It was her first full day at Gladsheim. Fandral Karisdottir had things to do, people to see, and grandmothers to scandalize.
Well, she was really only intending to scandalize one grandmother in particular- her own- but that wasn't the point.
To that end she shoved past the rack of gowns waiting for her in the wardrobe and instead picked out one of the outfits she had chosen, beautifully worked leather breeches that clung to her legs like a second skin and an intricately worked tunic is soft green wool, bedecked with colorful embroidery and interwoven with finely worked strips of metal as was the fashion at court. Over it all went similarly-worked boots and a belt, to which she attached a sheathed rapier. No one was going to mistake her for just one of the court lovelies now, which was how Fandral wanted it. A few minutes spent braiding her hair got it contained, aside from the loose tendrils she allowed to hang free around her face.
"There," she murmured, inspecting her appearance in the mirror. This was her, really her, for the first time in her life- skilled swordswoman and clever agent, though no one would know the latter. That was fine with her.
"Time for Fandral the Dashing to go make her first appearance in Gladsheim."
She gave her reflection a fierce grin and swaggered out of her rooms to make her introduction with the princes of Asgard.