A/N: Hello again! I realize it's been a while – thank the virus and MIA backups, which I have found again! Rejoice! Anyway, here is chapter four, so enjoy, and may the Night Mother walk with you always.
Chapter 4: Innocence Lost, Madness Gained
Oh, she thought Cicero would let go! Hee-hee-hee! But no! Cicero will hug his sister, his petite, little sister! And she hugged him back! Ooh-hoo! Cicero is so happy! He lets Alysa go, but holds her at arm length. "Welcome home, sweet Sister! Oh, Cicero wondered when you would return! Tell us, oh tell us about the kill! Did you make your target bleed? Scream? Beg for mercy? Poison, magic –"
"Cicero," she interrupted, quiet but cold and deadly like her daedric daggers! Cicero listened, but he wishes he could listen to Mother!
I stared at Cicero, for a moment lost for words. What was I going to say? I had just realized how much taller he was than me – I only just made it to his shoulders – and how perfectly I had fit into his embrace. "Yes, Alysa? What did you want to say to Cicero?"
I started, blinking. "I don't remember…."
"OH!" Cicero clapped, bouncing on his feet. "Cicero know how to help his sweet sister remember! She has travelled far –" he swept his arms to one side, "– and wide –" he swept his arms to the other side, "and Alysa will want food! Mead! And then you must tell me what you did! How you killed your target, and–"
"Hm, no," I interrupted, half-smiling coyly as I brushed past him, his expression falling as he thought I blew him off. "Target-ss."
"More than one? Oh, oh, oh! Cicero must know! Tell us, dear sweet sister!"
"Of course, Brother. But first, as you said, a tankard of mead and a plate of food is calling," I said over my shoulder.
Cicero watched her walk away, lightly swaying hips, coy smile – oh, she is so… Cicero doesn't think there is a word for Alysa. He just knows that he will follow Alysa, and whatever happens, he will stay with her. Oh, he can't wait to hear her stories! The way she hunted and killed… Cicero skipped closer, linked her arm with his. "So, Sister, tell humble Cicero about your target-sssss."
Oh, sweet Night Mother, she laughed. Cicero will forever remember that laugh, not the same one as the last jester Cicero killed – oh, no, no! This one is so full of life, so full of a dark passion for serving our Dread Father and Unholy Matron – Cicero believes there is something special about this one, something there that there hasn't been in a very long in any of the many Families Cicero has been to – of that, this Keeper is fairly sure.
Cicero kept good company, actually. Or at least, he kept good company with me. Nazir wasn't overly fond of him, calling Cicero a clown under his breath every now and again, and a Fool outright whenever he referred to the Keeper directly while we were in the dining hall eating, and eventually I think he had enough of an almost-mellow Nord woman-assassin and a loud jester-assassin, so he left. Cicero listened attentively when I told him about Nilsine, Alain and Muiri, and offered some useful tips on assassinating targets. But he didn't give all that much about himself, when I asked – some things he refused to say, and anything I asked was cleverly and very easily deflected, just as one might deflect swords with swords. Once or twice he actually almost managed to force me to share my own past, so I gave up eventually, partly because it was getting old to have my questions sidestepped and the mead was making me feel a little warm and fuzzy, and I had no intention of sharing something I wasn't interested in reliving just yet with someone I didn't know all that well. I can't remember a time I had laughed as much as now, and we eventually made our way to the beds, arm in arm again. I sighed, dropping my weapons on the bed. "Cicero, you and I will speak again tomorrow, but for now, there are things I must do. Alone," I added when he looked a little excited.
"Of course, sweet Alysa! Cicero wishes you a night blessed by the Dread Father and the Night Mother!" he turned abruptly, skipping and humming as he disappeared to wherever he kept the Night Mother, probably. I sighed, taking out my robes and heading for the washrooms to soak for a while. I was content, and peaceful. Thanks to the kill, the mead and Cicero, I felt a smile of a different kind spread over my face as I let myself sink a little deeper into the water with my eyes closed. What was this feeling, so sudden and new to me?
Astrid found me a short while after I came out of the natural caverns. She looked more than a little worried, and the urgency with which she seemed to call me before turning away and striding to her chambers annoyed me. I frowned, deliberately being careful with my things before I went to her chambers, and trying to get serious enough after my very mellow and slightly drunk mood before making my way to where she leaned on a large table, a map of Skyrim staked to it with two steel and two iron daggers. "You called, Astrid?"
She looked up, then flashed a lazy grin. "How did the first contract go?"
I nodded, deciding to keep Nilsine's murder out of the conversation. "Very well. Muiri was pleased, and as you said, generous."
"Very good," Astrid nodded, turning back to the map before straightening. "Alysa, there is a matter I want you to take care of."
"Alright," I agreed. Since when did I 'take care' of matters? I suppose I should be grateful for this… promotion, but I can't say it was expected: I had been protected from the beginning, being the only 'new' recruit to have made it past my third contract in years. "Go on."
"It's Cicero…" Astrid started, wary of my reaction for some reason. She also sounded a little exasperated. "While you were out on your contract, and ever since he arrived, really, his behavior has been…" Astrid sighed. "Well, erratic would be an understatement. I do believe he is truly mad. But it's worse than that."
She stopped talking. Oh, I hated it when she did this – this leading-on, around-the-bend kind of talk. "Tell me what he's done," I tried not to sigh.
"He's taken to locking himself in the Night Mother's chamber, and talking," Astrid dropped her voice. "To someone. In hushed, but frantic tones."
I frowned deeper. Cicero did talk to himself sometimes; that much I gathered from the first time I saw him to now. I wondered briefly if Astrid knew that, but then, why tell her that? Surely she already realised he wasn't completely together… she had said that herself, after all. But I would do what she told me to: she is my leader, after all…. "Are you sure you aren't just being a little too paranoid, Astrid?"
She glared at me briefly, then turned away, rubbing her hands together. She started pacing. "A little healthy paranoia has kept this Family alive for as long as it has. I want to know what they're planning, Alysa. I fear treachery. As the Night Mother's Keeper, Cicero believes he's entitled to the rule of this Sanctuary. He will cite our independence as undisciplined, unruly and heretical. He will claim we must revert to the Old Ways. Ironically," Astrid sneered, "the Night Mother may be just as much a victim. The Queen in a fool's game of chess…."
"What do you want me to do?" I said softly, coldly. I don't like spying on my Family; it was wrong in so many ways I cannot begin to explain: it felt like betrayal to me, and wasn't that in the Five Tenants? Something about betrayal was in them.
"Dear Sister," Astrid said, turning to stand in front of me. "I need you to steal into that chamber, eavesdrop on their conversation. Clinging to the shadows won't help you. They will surely see you…" she paused, thinking. No, no don't ask me to do that, Astrid…. "The Night Mother's coffin is an ideal place."
I scowled, feeling my blood run cold. It was sacrilege! I might not have had much of an idea of what the Night Mother actually did for the Dark Brotherhood anymore, but she was a part of us, and what Astrid was asking was sacrilege! Never mind that no sane Nord would willingly climb into the same coffin as the dead! "When should I find him?" I asked instead, my voice low and steady. Astrid narrowed her eyes at me, realizing that something about her request was bothering me. She went on about how I had actually already missed Cicero today, and that I would have to hide tomorrow at least an hour before dinner in the Night Mother's coffin. I left feeling more than a little sour, and a little afraid of desecrating the Night Mother's coffin: it was foolish to disturb the dead, and especially one who was reputed to be supernatural.
Cicero went back to find Alysa after he looked after his sweet, dear Mother, but she – Alysa, not his Mother, although Mother was always sleeping – was sleeping! So peaceful, she looked, sweet Mother. Surely you bless her with cold dreams of death and murder! Yes! I know! Oh, Cicero can't help himself, sweet Mother! He just has to… Cicero padded closer to her bed, knelt next to her. So pretty, this little Nord woman! So fair, so fine…. Oh, that she were mine! Cicero giggled, but quickly clapped a hand over his mouth. Such a pretty creature, Mother. Blessed by our Dread Father as well, with her skill. Just one touch… that's all Cicero wants. But what if she wakes up and she fights with poor Cicero again? Dear Cicero doesn't want that! No no no! He knows he will let her win, now. I will not fight back, just ask Alysa Ice-Wrath to stop fighting poor, sweet Cicero. That's all I would do. But he would like to fight with her. Cicero sighs. He will not touch her cheek, he will not brush her hair away from her face… No, not Cicero. Maybe never Cicero. "Cicero is coming, sweet Night Mother," he whispers, standing and leaving dear Alysa. Perhaps one day he might do all this, and more, for his Alysa. Perhaps. But now, now all this humble Fool of Hearts has is you, Unholy Matron.