The Listener was sprawled across a pile of barrels, up in a corner as Astrid had once preferred. He looked entirely relaxed and content in the uncomfortable position, playing with his bloody daggers as he watched the scene before him with liquid eyes.
Cicero was keenly aware of the Listener's gaze.
"This is a very hospitable one, are they not sweet Mother?" He murmured softly to himself, watching the Contract drag her broken body across the floor of her home, a gaping maw where her eyes had once been. Her hand stretched with bloody stumps instead of fingers towards the daylight streaming in front a grimy window. Her moaning filled the air, as she struggled to form words with a tongue she no longer had and make sounds with a throat that was already torn raw.
Cicero loved nothing more than to hear the Contracts sing for Mother, adding their beautiful voices to the choir that sang for both her and the Dread Lord in the Void.
Except for that Orc, hmm sweet Mother? Cicero thought, a giggle escaping his lips as he skipped forward, easily passing the Contract. He stopped in front of her, putting his foot on the bloody wrist pressed against the floorboards, eliciting another garbled cry from her.
"Is there anything else you want, my Listener?" He asked, glancing up at the other man. A smirk lifted the Imperial's lips, and the Listener shook his head.
"No, dear Keeper." He said quietly. Cicero nodded, and crushed the woman's severed wrist to the ground. Blood exploded over his boot, and with a soft 'tut', he slipped his ebon blade through her throat, reveling in the feel of absolutely no resistance. He'd worked hard to get his blade this sharp.
The Listener was suddenly at his shoulder, and Cicero glanced at the man. The Listener studied the corpse for a moment, then abruptly turned to leave.
"Is something bothering you, my Listener?" Cicero asked, following silently. The man's jaw tightened, then slowly he nodded.
"Yes, Cicero, there is."
Cicero frowned at the confession. Little bothered the Listener. The Imperial was very relaxed, and easily rolled with whatever Sithis decided to throw at him. Even when dealing with Astrid's betrayal, Cicero had never seen him so agitated…or put on such a calm façade.
"What is it, my Listener? Something Cicero can solve for you?" The Jester's fingers brushed the handle of his blade as he spoke, making it clear what his 'solution' would be. The Listener's lips flicked upwards for a moment, tension draining from him.
"No, dear Keeper. That would be most unfortunate." Cicero tilted his head, frowning. He couldn't quite grasp what the Listener's meaning was. Someone had upset the Listener, yet the Listener didn't want them dead.
Why?
"Driving your blade into your own heart would be displeasing, Cicero." Cicero blinked in shock at the Listener's words, realizing he'd spoken aloud.
"Cicero…is the one upsetting you so, my Listener? What has Cicero done?" The baffled Jester apparently amused the Listener, because the Imperial laughed.
The situation was entirely beyond Cicero. He wanted the Listener to be happy, and would do anything to make the Listener smile-just as he would the Night Mother. What had he done to make the Listener so agitated? And why in Sithis's name was the Listener laughing?
The Listener was acting like little Brother Aventus had acted when-
Oh.
The Listener watched him, intent eyes alight with mirth. Cicero crossed his arms, scowling at the Night Mother's chosen.
"Cicero is not amused." The Jester said dryly. The Listener put an arm around the Jester's shoulder, and the two of them began the trek back towards Morthal.
Little Brother Aventus was waiting for them at the inn, as was Aventus's wife.