"I knew it! I knew it all along!"
A giggle escaped Leola's lips as Aventus all but jumped up and down, celebrating that he had guessed Leola's father completely unintentionally. Erith rolled her eyes, reaching over and slapping his arm gently.
"Knock it off," she said with a laugh.
The trio sat at their usual table by the fire in Candlehearth Hall, but this time, they were joined by a couple of others. To Erith's left sat two Nords, a brunet named Bottar and a blond named Sond. Bottar was slender as far as Nords went, with a boyish face and short brown hair. Sond was bulkier, his armour sleeveless so as to show off his toned muscles and his face more elongated and defined than his friend's. These were Erith's two companions, the travelling merchants with whom she went about most days. They had finally arrived in Windhelm, growing tired with having to wait for Erith to get back to them about Leola's mother's possessions. Erith had sternly told them to stay quiet about the possessions, as she was more interested in being friends with Leola than leeching off her loss.
"So it is Leola Stormcloak! Princess of Skyrim!" Aventus said, laughing. Leola hadn't seen him this cheerful and amusing before, but it was certainly a welcome change from the typically dark and cryptic man she knew.
"I'm happy for you, Leola," said Erith with a grin. "I think this calls for a drink. A real drink."
"Oh, shut up, Erith," said Sond with a grin. "We're all Nords here except you, you're the last person should be talking about real drinks."
"Agreed," chimed in Bottar, lifting the bottle of Nord mead that was in his hand as if to prove his partner's point. Leola and Aventus laughed, while Erith rolled her eyes.
"Well, I'm going to go and get myself a drink, do any of you want anything?" asked the Breton, standing and putting her hands on her hips.
"I'm fine, but I wouldn't complain if another bottle made its way to our table," Sond replied with a cheeky grin, and Erith nodded.
"Sounds good," she replied, and then looked at Leola. She skipped Aventus; the girls had figured out the previous day during their travels that he didn't actually drink often as he wished to keep his guard up and stay sharp.
"I'm fine," Leola said, smiling.
"Oh, come on!" exclaimed Bottar.
"Yeah, you're Ulfric Stormcloak's kid! Your blood must be about eighty percent mead alone!" Sond chimed in.
"Goodness me, I think that's a perfectly good reason to stay away from the stuff!" Leola teased, and the whole group laughed.
With that, Erith headed down the stairs. The group was mostly alone upstairs, but for one local enjoying a drink by himself nearby. He basically ignored the rowdy kids as they talked. Leola quite liked Sond and Bottar – they were loud and silly, but they were well-travelled and had a number of exciting stories to share. She had been fascinated several times by their tales just over the course of the hour or so the group had been there that morning.
"So, Leola," said Bottar, leaning forward and looking intently at her. "Which of us will you take as your husband?"
"None of you!" exclaimed Leola with a giggle, her eyes going wide. "What makes you think I'd consider any of you as suitors?"
"Well, you're the Princess, so you'll be High Queen of Skyrim when Ulfric dies, and what's a Queen without her King?" teased Sond, grinning.
"What if Leola wants a Queen?" came Erith's voice from the staircase as she came back in. She grasped a bottle of alto wine in one hand and two bottles of Nord mead in the other. As she came to the table, she held out the hand that held the mead, with each of the two merchant boys eagerly snatching a bottle from her grasp once it was within theirs.
"If Leola wants a Queen we riot," said Sond.
"There's no fun if we can't fight over her," agreed Bottar as Erith seated herself back down in her chair beside Leola, smirking over at the two.
"We'll just see about that," said the Breton, and Leola felt a flush come to her cheeks, her blue eyes moving away from the group momentarily before she turned back to them, smiling.
"So, what's going to be your first act as Princess of Skyrim?" asked Aventus teasingly, taking a spoonful of his soup as he awaited her answer.
"The Shrine of Boethiah isn't far from here," Leola said in a soft voice, having discussed it with Erith the previous day. "Getting rid of that ebony mail is our goal for today."
"It's not something we want falling in the wrong hands," said Erith sternly when Sond opened his mouth to protest.
"As I understand, there are cultists at this particular shrine," Aventus said. "I'm sure they'll be more than happy to take the mail and return it to their prince, just as the Orcs will be taking the hammer."
"Having Sond and Bottar with us will be useful in case the cultists are hostile," Erith said. "They're excellent fighters. Obviously Aventus and I are as well, but having more strong fighters is always better."
"So you didn't worry about the Orcs being hostile?" asked Bottar with a smirk.
"I didn't," Erith replied, shaking her head. "Now, shall we get going?"
"Let me finish my soup first," snapped Aventus, and the rest of the group laughed as he quickly began to eat the soup.
There was a light, cheerful feeling about the group of them that morning. Leola wasn't sure why – even when discussing their plans to visit a Daedric shrine, they were laughing and enjoying themselves. Perhaps it was the presence of Sond and Bottar, who had arrived in the middle of the night and were certainly proving themselves to be entertaining and fun-loving companions. Perhaps it was her excitement over the news of finally knowing her father's identity – and the fact that it was none other than Ulfric himself. Whatever it was, Leola was certainly enjoying it and she hoped that it would last.
When Aventus had finally finished his soup, the group began to gear up. Sond and Bottar had rooms there in the inn, so they disappeared into their rooms to put their armour on. Erith was already wearing her simple leather armour and enchanted jewellery, having figured after their talk yesterday that they would be going to the shrine, and Aventus also wore his shady armour already. Of course, that was just because he always seemed to wear it, as if it was a second skin to him.
Leola hated that she didn't have any armour. She had to go out in her pretty dresses and risk her life, entrusting it to her friends because she couldn't fight at all. She trusted the lot of them, of course, but she was jealous that she couldn't even protect herself. She had decided to learn to fight, but she wanted to do it secretly, so that it would be a surprise to her friends. She hoped, of course, that she would never be put in a situation where she had to show them her skills, but Skyrim was a dangerous place to live, and it was even more dangerous now that the group of them were venturing out to Daedric shrines and temples.
Sond came out first, clad in heavy steel plate armour, though he didn't bother wearing the silly-looking helmet that had come with the set. Across his back was a massive greatsword that Leola was sure would be heavy and require both hands. Bottar came out afterwards, wearing golden armour that Erith softly told Leola was elven, with a matching mace hanging from his waist. He did wear a helmet, but it wasn't one that covered his face.
Leola smiled a bit as she saw them. "Very impressive," she said.
"Have you decided which one you're going to marry yet?" asked Sond with a grin.
"I think I stand a better chance than either of you," Erith said, shooting Leola a wink as she headed for the stairs. Leola felt herself overcome with the flush that seemed to overcome her often when it came to Erith, and she quickly looked away for a moment to regain her composure. There was a part of her that suspected that the Breton was right – she certainly didn't feel this way about Aventus, and though she hadn't known Sond and Bottar long, their teasing and jokes didn't fill her stomach with butterflies or send a hot blush across her cheeks. There was just something about Erith that Leola liked, and as she followed her group out, she decided that she would have to start entertaining the idea that she was falling in love.