[ Astarion is disappointed by the fact that Iorveth plans to cover up his lovely torso, and it shows in a childish pouting as he seeks out Dolores. His mood improves quickly, though, as Dolores pulls out the spare shirt. Sleeves that balloon out—even more so than they should, given the poor fit—and cinch in with ruffles at the wrist. Astarion's pout instantly turns to a grin of delight as Iorveth puts the shirt on, and he steps back to give him a proper once-over. ]

You look positively darling.

[ It's half-bullying, half-compliment. He does look darling, in Astarion's opinion, but he also looks like he wants to die. Stepping back in, he takes the liberty of reaching out and tucking the shirt into Iorveth's waistband. ]

Something like this for the fitting next tenday, I think, [ he says, adjusting the collar so that Iorveth's tattoo peeks out more. Good stitchwork, he notes. ] You'd look ravishing festooned in frills.