"Alex, I am not wearing that."

Alex sighed petulantly, shaking the chainmail in front of Nala.

"Nala, come on, I rarely ask you to do anything –" Nala snorted – "but this is important."

"Alex, look at it," Nala said impatiently. "There is nothing to it whatsoever. I am not wearing that…that excuse for armour, and that is final!"

They had been arguing for three hours. The twins had returned home long ago, when the storm was barely brewing. Winston was slowly falling asleep in the plush armchair Nala kept for him in her living room, a chipped mug of tea balanced between his legs that was now stone cold. Nala wanted nothing more than to collapse into her small bed in her new home and into sleep, but she would not let Alex win. It was more than her pride (and her dignity in that armour) would allow.

She had been living in her own quarters for a month now. As much as she liked staying in the tavern, it had too impractical. Lukas, despite being too nice to complain, was not particularly enamoured with her after she had returned from a dungeoneering adventure completely covered in blood and slime. A woman in the bar had vomited at the sight of her. After that, he had asked politely if she'd thought about other living arrangements. Besides, she was beginning to make plans and progress with Grakas, and she had to admit, they would be in Winterhaven for a long portion of the foreseeable future.

The twins had turned up at her house, dizzy with excitement, with the news that the "young, handsome, and courageous" Archduke Ianneiros was visiting and wished to speak with those that had led the efforts to vanquish the dragon. Winston informed her that Bandobras had commended them, apparently, and they had been invited to a formal dinner at his home.

As they were saying their goodbyes, having enjoyed a rough dinner and many glasses of wine, Alex had barged in, and informed her that she would be dressing for the occasion in a suit of armour he had bought for her. It was nothing more than ridiculous, a fine thin layer of chainmail with plates designed only to cover the essential areas needed for a shred of modesty. Nala had laughed, assuming he was joking, but one look at Alex's face and she realised he was perfectly serious.

He told her it was the latest fashion (Nala had snorted at that), that he would be wearing dress armour and that he expected his company to match. Nala had told him, in no uncertain terms, that she would be wearing her full suit of armour, which was perfectly dressy enough as it was, and if he didn't like it he could take a long walk into the Hellplanes.

"Nala, it's what is expected of you!" Alex growled, throwing the armour onto the table by Winston. Winston woke up with a snort, spilling tea down his shirt. It was a testament to how little there was of the armour that it landed on the table and stayed there without much difficulty.

"Alex Debard," Nala spluttered, indignation dripping from every syllable, "that is the most pompous, arrogant, ridiculous thing I have ever heard your mouth utter! I am a dragonborn! We do not bow to what is expected of us, we carve out our own path by what is right, and we carve it by our own choosing! How dare you!"

"It's nothing to do with you being a dragonborn!" Alex yelled back. "Why is everything with you due to being a dragonborn, I swear to the gods, Nala…"

"Then what is it about?" Nala asked, pure venom replacing her irritation. Alex suddenly looked very uncomfortable. Winston stopped mopping his front and stared at Alex. Nala stared Alex down, as they faced one another. The glowing embers of the fire danced in her eyes. "Answer my question, Alex."

Alex had the good grace to break eye contact before muttering his response.

"Well, you need to be…ladylike. It's what the Archduke will anticipate."

Nala saw Winston sigh and bury his face into his tea-soaked hands. At first, she wasn't quite sure she had heard Alex right. As he squirmed under her gaze, she was suddenly too sure of what he was inferring.

"Are you saying," Nala hissed, through gritted teeth, "that because of my gender, because I am not blessed with manly prowess, I will therefore be expected to wear that travesty of a costume? I suppose you'll want me to call you sir all evening and simper like a babe barely weaned from its mother? That I am not ladylike as I am, because I have drowned my enemies in their own blood next to you in battle? Or perhaps that merely makes me a traitor to my sex, and I must atone?"

Alex hesitated for a second too long.

"Get. Out. Of. My. House." Nala growled, blood rushing into her brain with a thundering roar. She struggled to contain it, clenching her fists, resisting with all her might the urge to punch her superior where she could inflict the most pain. "Now."

Alex looked more than a little scared. He turned to go. Nala picked up the offending clothing and threw it at him, hitting the back of his head. She heard him gasp as the chainmail caught in his hair and felt a little satisfaction in the pit of her stomach.

"Will you just think about it?" he asked, turning as he opened the door to leave.

Nala gave him what she hoped was her best withering look, too angry to retort. Alex took the hint. He walked out the door, carrying the chainmail, and didn't look back.