Dorian's mouth quirked as he finished with the last of the lacing on Bull's armor. He didn't understand fully what the clothing meant to him, but he could respect what he could understand. Perhaps he even had an obligation to, outside of their personal relationship. He understood so little, truthfully, about the Qun, and yet he'd been raised to hate it.

"Can't say that I have anything I could add to my wardrobe that would be equivalent. Unless you count a proper set of robes with my family crest emblazoned hugely on the front. And a very stupid hat."

He slid reluctantly off of Bull's lap and went to rustle up a hot, damp towel.