"Parry - that's right - block, then counter."
Leola shifted her form to the side, her sword clanking against the other woman's sword as she blocked it. She quickly moved forward, thrusting her sword towards the other woman in retaliation. The brunette jumped back slightly, a grin coming to her lips.
"Wonderful, your majesty, that was perfect!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together. "You're a natural, you really are - you just keep on getting better."
"Thank you, Caelia," Leola said, a grin coming to her lips as she sheathed her sword again. She lifted her hands to remove her helmet, letting her blonde curls fall free and giving her head a shake. Beads of sweat dotted her forehead, and she was breathing rather heavily.
"I think that's all our time for today, but you've done really well," said the brunette, Caelia. "Have a good day, your majesty - I'll see you at the same time tomorrow?"
"Actually," Leola said, "Erith is coming home tonight, so I was hoping to spend the day with her tomorrow. Perhaps we can schedule our next lesson for this time on Morndas?"
"Ah, yes," Caelia said with a smile, nodding. "That's fine, she's been gone quite a while so I'm sure you're looking forward to seeing her."
"I am," Leola replied with a grin. "As lucky as the College is to have her, I do miss her when she's gone."
"I know the feeling," Caelia replied, smiling. "I do miss my dear Asgorn when I am away."
"I'm sure that he misses you as well," Leola replied, putting a hand on her arm. "Perhaps you should visit him while Erith is here, as you'll not have your lessons with me for a few days?"
A light seemed to come to Caelia's brown eyes and a grin spread across her lips. "I hadn't even considered that," she said. "I should do that, though - he'd love the surprise."
"He certainly would," Leola replied with a grin. "I shall see you on Morndas, then?"
"You shall," Caelia replied with a nod. "Take care, my Queen."
"And you," Leola responded. She headed over to Jorleif, who took the helmet from her and handed over a towel in its place.
"She's right, your majesty," Jorleif said. "Your skill with the blade has certainly been improving. Your parents would be proud."
"I'd like to think so," Leola replied softly, a smile coming to her lips as she patted the towel against her face, drying it of the beaded sweat. "I've no plans for this afternoon, do I?"
"After your lesson, I believe that your schedule is clear until supper," Jorleif responded. "Unless, of course, Lady Erith arrives early."
"Then I am going to take a long, hot bath," she replied with a smile. "If Erith does arrive early, then send for me - otherwise, I'd like not to be disturbed."
"Certainly, your majesty," he replied with a nod, turning and heading off with her helmet. She smiled to herself, running a hand through her dampened blonde hair as she retreated indoors.
Within half an hour, the servants had filled a basin with hot water and Leola was soaking in it in her chamber. The warmth felt nice against her skin, her muscles sore from her intense training over the last several months, and she settled in well, closing her eyes and laying her head back against the rim of the tub.
She still couldn't believe that it had been almost two years since her father had died. Almost a year and a half now that she'd been Queen… So many things had changed, and yet, it all felt strangely familiar to her. Would her father be proud of the way she ruled? She liked to think that she was just, fair, and kind. Her people gave her the utmost love and respect, and she reciprocated it.
As the steam rolled off the hot water in her tub, Leola found herself growing light-headed and woozy. Such hot baths often left her drowsy, and this one was no exception. She'd been in the tub for barely ten minutes before she started to drift off to sleep.
In her sleep, she found herself in the woods. It was a dream she had often enough - a recurring dream that she could never quite understand. She grasped a torch in one hand, and in the other hand there was a blade - it was familiar to her, but she couldn't quite place it. There was blood on her hands, and standing between the trees ahead of her, she saw a man. This part was different.
It was an Altmer man, with piercing blue eyes that almost seemed to glow in the dark and a mess of black hair. She had seen him before, on the day of her coronation a year and a half ago. He'd been in the palace, but when she'd looked again, he was gone. In her dreams, though, he stayed. He had a chilling smile on his face as he watched the young Queen, eyeing the bloody dagger in her hand.
"So we meet again," he said to her. These dreams were unlike any Leola had ever experienced, because in them, she was completely lucid - aware that she was dreaming, fully able to control her own actions, but unable to wake herself.
"Indeed, we do," she responded. They had conversed a few times before. At first when she had the dream, she had found herself unsure what to do, but the more it came, the more sure of herself she was. "Did you consider what we discussed?"
"I did," he responded with a nod. "And I acted on it."
"You did what?" she asked, her blue eyes widening as she took a few steps towards him. "Did you find him?"
"No, but I looked," the man replied, giving a shake of his head. "Your little assassin friend is a hard man to find when he does not wish to be found."
"That can't be it," Leola said softly, shaking her head. "He said that he would come back. He promised."
"I can assure you that he is not dead," the man said, clasping his hands behind his back and taking a step towards her. "I asked the leader of his organization. Mister Nazir claimed not to have seen him since the days leading up to your coronation. Nor has he seen any of your friend's subordinates - you know, his three friends."
"Cassius, Minot, and Naniena," Leola responded.
"Alas, Nazir would not give me any information on the three of them. It would have been a good lead, knowing that wherever they are, he must be nearby."
"Naniena has two sons in Morthal," Leola said in a soft voice. "Their nanny's name is Larethia. She may know something, if you ask her - but please, Nericano, be kind. Larethia is a good woman, and Nani's sons are good children."
"I will be nothing but the kindest, my sweet Queen," the Altmer responded, giving a sweeping bow. "Have you any more leads that I might follow, or is this the best we can muster?"
"It's the best that I have for now," Leola replied. "Erith is returning home tonight. If she has any information, then I will tell you the next time we meet."
"Ah, yes, the Queen's queen," Nericano murmured, a smirk toying at his lips. "I shall make my way to Morthal, and I will see for you what this Larethia knows."
"When will you make your way to Windhelm?" Leola asked, gazing towards him. He stepped forward, outstretching his hands to take hers.
"We shall meet when the time is right, sweet Queen," he replied, a smile on his lips. "Until then, let me do your bidding in silence. I will find you your assassin, it is only a matter of time."
"Very well," Leola replied softly, nodding. "Thank you, Nericano. Good luck in Morthal."
"Good luck with your mage," the man replied with a smirk, and before Leola could respond, she awoke. She gasped out sharply, sitting bolt upright in the tub. The water had gone lukewarm, and she saw only darkness through the window. How long had she been asleep?
She hurried to clamber out of the tub, drying herself as quickly as she could before getting dressed. It was late, shouldn't Erith have been home by now? She left her room, grabbing the nearest servant to handle the water basin before hurrying into the main hall.
"Jorleif! Farkand!" she said as she entered, seeing her steward and commander in the throne room. "What time is it? Where is Erith?"
"Relax, Leola," said Farkand with a laugh. His tall blond figure moved towards her and he put his hands down on her shoulders. "It's not as late as you think, merely a storm moving in. Erith should be here soon, don't worry."
Leola bit her lip, nodding quickly. "Of course," she said. "I'm sorry."
"There's no need to apologize," said the Nord, shaking his head. "Take a seat, relax."
"I think I will," Leola replied with a nod, walking towards the throne. It still felt strange sitting on the throne, but she lowered herself on to the seat and leaned backwards, sighing to herself.
She eyed Farkand as he walked by. He wore regular clothing, rather than the armoured leathers that he typically wore, and she could see the bulk of his muscles straining against his outfit. He reminded her a great deal of Sond, how she missed him. Farkand was hardly Galmar - where the old man had been gruff and tough, Farkand had a gentle kindness about him when he was with the Queen. She often missed Galmar's opinionated grumbling around the palace, but in the months since he'd passed, Farkand the Stone had been nothing but wonderful as his replacement. He'd even been responsible for hiring Caelia to train Leola - Caelia used to be an Imperial soldier, and then she worked for the Dark Brotherhood training their new recruits. They'd found that her style of combat was a bit loud and aggressive for the shadowy kills they needed to make, though, so they'd let her go.
Thoughts of the Dark Brotherhood brought a great deal of sadness to Leola's heart. How she missed Aventus. He had been her best friend, her closest confidant...and yet, when she needed him most, at her side as she ruled, he was nowhere to be found. She'd not seen him since the night of her coronation, when he said that business called and he would be back. He had never come back.
There came a sudden banging at the doors that caused all three of them to jump. Leola's blue eyes darted towards the large doors of the palace. It couldn't possibly be Erith - she would have simply breezed right in.
"Your majesty?" asked Farkand, looking at her.
"Open them," she said with a nod, and the large blond man hurried to the doors. He opened them, filling the throne room with the deafening roar of the thunder and the rain as it crashed down, and Leola let out an audible gasp as she saw who was coming in.
"Leola!" exclaimed the brown-haired Imperial, his dark eyes gazing towards her. He was soaked, his hair falling in his face and stuck to his forehead, but she knew him well enough to recognize him immediately.
"Cassius?" she asked, rising from her seat. The assassin was covered in blood - his own blood, she could tell by the gashes and cuts in his wet armour - and she could see a limp in his step.
"Leola - aargh," he gasped out, collapsing to one knee. Leola could almost see the pain shooting through his broken leg. "Leola, this is - it's important… Aventus, Leola, he needs your help…"