Aramis accepts both garments onto his person in meek silence, awed and more than a little touched for Athos' continued help. It is only a suit, and yet it feels strangely intimate, being dressed for what will eventually be one of the most important days of his life, by one of the most important men in it.

"Well?" he asks when the buttons of both are done up, the pocket square tucked into his jacket pocket, his tie straightened. He is not even in his fine trousers yet, but the effect of the suit is already upon him, and to his alarm, Aramis finds a tightness in his throat. He clears it with a quick touch of knuckles to his lips, smiling after. "Will it pass muster, do you think?"