Olive had very cold feet, but she didn't want to complain because she had a feeling that Mathis would then take off his shoes to have her wear, and she was already wearing what seemed to be his only form of coat.

She wouldn't ask to ride his horse either. The poor thing was tired, he had said. Poor horsie.

But she couldn't feel her toes anymore, except for the parts that burned like little ice cubes were stuck to her skin with salt.

Luckily, the sun started rising after they had only been moving for half an hour. Another half hour after that, she could make out the beginnings of a town.

And then they actually got into the town and she was baffled.

Where was she, in Skyrim? Would a dragon be seen flying on the horizon? Would she be brutally murdered if she killed a man's chicken?

"Are you all right?" Mathis inquired kindly.

"I'm very… confused."

"Yes, you look it. There's a shop up ahead with premade dresses where we can find something for you, I'm sure. Then we'll get to an inn so you can bathe and eat, how's that?"

"I can't get pants?" Olive asked.

He paused, smiling sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Lady, but do you see any women wearing pants? I think it's safer if you don't stick out. Perhaps we can get you a pair trousers to ride in while we travel, though, how's that?"

She grumbled. "All right. Thank you for the compromise, then."

"I'm sorry that, in the way of progress, you seemed to go backwards in your travels. A place where women wear and say what they please sounds like a place of great freedom. Unless… you make the men wear the gowns?"

Olive blinked at him and then tossed her head back and roared with laughter. "Oh, if only," she said, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye. "No, we don't make anyone wear anything, as a whole. In some places, they probably do. Depends on one's religions or culture, I suppose. But where I'm from you have men wearing dresses and women wearing pants and vice versa and sometimes people say things about it, but for the most part I think I live in a relatively open minded place."

"That sounds… foreign." Mathis turned and held the door open to a small shop, gesturing her inside.

"Well this is all foreign to me, so I see where you're coming from."

"Good morning, how can I-?" A plump older woman looked up from the desk where she was writing. "Sir Mathis! It's been a while since you stopped in. What can I help you with? I see you've brought a friend as well?"

Mathis smiled. "Good morning, Franny. You're perky this morning, as usual." He set a hand on Olive's shoulder. "My friend here is in a bit of mess. We were wondering if you might have any premade dresses in her size."

Franny had a silver braid that hung to her hips and a mess of curls that framed her face, and everything she said and did seemed to fill her with excitement.

"Oh of course, dear," the older woman said, snatched up both of Olive's hands. "You poor thing must have had a terrible fright. Come alone and I'll get you measured and we'll see what we have."

"Can you size her for unmentionables as well? And shoes?"

"Sir Mathis!" Franny snapped. "Call them that is the same as mentioning them! Of course, I'll see to all her needs, you don't have to spell it out for me."

Mathis grinned. "I beg your pardon, Miss Franny. I only wanted to see her looked after."

"As if you don't trust me," she grumbled, leading Olive toward the back of the shop. "Really, men act they know everything don't they? I've got a perfectly fine head on my shoulders, thank you very much."

"Oh, so they're the same everywhere?" Olive asked, smiling.

Franny laughed. "Everywhere at every age, dear. It doesn't matter how much you know, you could be the queen and a man who's milked cows his whole life would want to tell her how to run the country!"

"Does the queen run the country?"

"Perhaps not, but a good queen knows how to run the king, doesn't she?"

Olive grinned. She liked Franny.

"Okay, stand up here, dear, let me have a look at you."

Olive shed her borrowed cloak and did as she was told. Franny gasped at the sight of her, lifting her hands to take her face and examine her neck.

"Oh, love, you've been positively abused. Who on earth did this to you?"

"Uh," Olive rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed. "I ran into a band of… brigands? I was lost. Mathis saved me." She crossed her arms though. "Not before I hurt most of them myself though," she defended. She was in no way useless, and would have no one thinking so.

Franny gave her a small smile. "Well good. You look like they did a number on you, so I would hope they got the same in return." She paused. "Mathis is going to take you to an inn to clean up, I hope?"

"Oh yes, he mentioned that."

"Good. He's a scamp, but he's a good boy. Lift your arms for me?"

Olive did as instructed.