Murder in her heart
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I wipe the sweat from his brow, nurse his trembling wounds with unsure fingers. Somehow, my lips find his temple, covering his face with butterfly kisses. I have always loved him.
I loved him before the stars found their place in the skies, I love him before the birds learned to fly, before the darkness clouded his mind.
Come back to me, I whisper, memories flashing behind my eyes like flickering candles in the night. Please, my sweet Cicero, come back to me.
I slowly slide his cap from his hair, freeing the golden locks hidden there. His eyes flutter briefly, a sigh escapes his lips. I lean forward, trying to transfer my healthiness into him.
He reaches for my hand, and I take it, tears rendering my vision useless. His hands are stained with our blood, our life forces intermingling with each other. It is slack, cold, and nearly lifeless- but it feels like home.
"Protect... The night... Mother," He gasps, before coughing up black blood.
I have never felt so helpless. Not when my mother was burned alive by dragons, not when my sister was taken by the Thalmor, subjected to countless imprisonments, not when I watched her die, strapped to a table, screaming for Talos to save her. Not even when my father crept into my room at night and groped me, before forcing his way inside of me, his hands wrapping around my throat so nobody would hear me scream.
But this- this is fucking heartbreaking. Out of everyone in this gods-forsaken world, it is my brother who breaks my heart.
"Please stay with me; I cannot do this alone. Cicero, I cannot wake up and view this world without you by my side, facing it with me. I cannot."
My voice breaks with the reality of my speech. I have never spoken so many words at one time. Cicero smiles at me, or perhaps at the night mother behind me. But he does not listen to my pleas; he is gone.
"How pitiful, that he died so easily, so quickly, without putting up a fight," A voice echoes in my mind, shaking me to my core. "He was no match for my listener..." A deep, feminine chuckle sounds, old and powerful. My skin begins to crawl, and a dark rage fills me with disgust.
I do not answer the voice. I focus on sweet, sweet Cicero's face, wiped clean of all pain in his slumber-like death. Young, so young. Too young. He should not have died like this, on a cold floor in an abandoned sanctuary. I bury my face into his chest, sobs wracking my body, my hands clenched into balls in his shirt. I can still smell him, his baby smell. Vaguely of embalming fluids, oils, and sweets. Cicero always had a soft spot for sweets. The thought makes me cry harder.
"Yes, yes, cry it out. But then, don't you think it would be a good idea to avenge sweet Cicero's death? After all, he did die at such a young age- it really is such a shame."
I look up from Cicero's chest, glance over at the open tomb, the shriveled corpse within.
"No, no. Not there, dear. In here. My power isn't in some crusty old corpse, my sweet. Now, listen closely, for I have other... mortals to attend to. Cicero died a sad death. He died scared and alone. You weren't there when he needed you most, when he was crying out for his older sister for help. That's the ugly truth. However..." She trails off, leaving me to complete the thought process.
But I don't want to. I don't want to I don't want to I don't want to. To complete that thought makes it so much more real that he is gone. Snuffed out. Never to see his blue eyes shine with a strange euphoria we never understood. Never never never.
"You've already thought it through. I must say, your mind shares a stunning similarity to Cicero's. I mean, I understand you were twins, but this is ridiculous. Perhaps it is inherited, or perhaps it's because I've touched your mind. I really must be going, sweet Cleo; I'll be watching, my dear."
Her crazed laughter fades entirely, leaving me all at once alone with my thoughts. Dangerous, so dangerous. Alone, so alone.
Alonealonealonealonealone.
All at once, Cicero suddenly sits up and caresses my face, and I am overjoyed. I was dreaming. dreaming dreaming dreaming. He is alive, I know he is.
I blink, a smile pulling at my lips, and he is back on the floor, like he never moved. I touch my cheek. It is cold, and there is no blood- he never touched my face.
I am crazy. So crazy. I must be crazy.
And all of this is the Listener's fault! The listener. I will kill him. I will kill him slowly, so I can hear his screams. I will strap him down to a table, burn him alive. But each time, I will heal him, just so he hovers on the brink of death, never dying. His pain will be boundless. He will feel what I feel. The whole family will. First, the Listener. And then, the Argonian, and the un-child. Ah, yes, and the redguard. And everyone else- and finally, Astrid. I will kill Astrid last, so she knows what happened to her miserable family; I will make her watch. No, perhaps the Listener last. Oh, well, they will all die. By my hand. With these hands, I will rip them limb from limb.
I plant a kiss on Cicero's head, before picking up his corpse and making my way through the Sanctuary, a grim smile pulling at my lips. I'd get my revenge, and everything will be okay. Cicero will be okay. I just have to do this one thing.
Easy, right?
