Fredas 21 Mid Year 203 4E 10:00 AM

One of the biggest advantages of living in Dawnstar Sanctuary was living next to the ocean. Most of the year it was too cold to actually swim in the water, but I loved to go down to the water line and watch the tide go in and out. The constant ebb and flow of the water was calming and the sound of the waves soothing.

I thanked the Eight that it was finally officially summer. For the last several weeks Aventus and I had been out in the sun slowly getting used to the heat. I was now fairly brown skinned from sitting out in the sun on the wooden rowboat Nazir had made for Aventus while the boy fished.

Aventus loved to go fishing. He used to go down to the docks in Windhelm to catch his dinner. He was a patient boy who didn't mind the quiet while waiting for a tug on his line. It was a wonderful quality in an assassin and unfortunately one I did not share.

Usually Nazir went out with Aventus for the fishing trips to supervise for safety. It was not practical to let a young boy out in the waves alone. The Redguard would use their catches for our meals. One time Nazir had gone out on contract which meant Aventus was without a watcher. I suggested Cicero but discovered to my surprise that the Keeper got seasick even on a small boat. The resulting mess overboard was pretty disgusting, especially with the slaughterfish trying to eat it like chum.

The first few times I went out with Aventus I was bored out of my mind. I have never understood how anyone can enjoy spending their time fishing. I quickly discovered that Aventus didn't feel insulted if I didn't fish too and he preferred the quiet to chatter. "The noise scares the fish, you know." Now I volunteered and I started bringing along books to read.

I had not been able to read much since joining the Brotherhood and I missed it. I've always had a strong love of books. The fictional worlds full of interesting characters that you could visit again and again held a strong allure for me. No matter how bad things were for me, I could always find comfort and stability in those written words.

Unfortunately living with Cicero made that virtually impossible. As soon as I picked up a book, the jester would start talking and wanting my attention for something or other. If I tried to ignore him and focus on my book, Cicero would pout and pull some prank forcing me to acknowledge him. I couldn't even wait for him to be busy with tending to the Night Mother's coffin since Cicero would do that while I was occupied with talking to Nazir about Brotherhood business.

Sometimes while I was on the boat I would look up and see the Fool pacing the waterline with his gloved hands folded behind his back, kicking shells while he waited for us to come ashore. Once back, Cicero would bombard me with whatever was currently on his mind whether it was a new song or joke or something regarding the Night Mother's coffin.

I had heard the "Can you bait a hook under a minute? Then you must be a master-baiter! Ha,ha,ha,ha." joke many, many…many times.

Today, Aventus was dropping me off at one of the islets that was near the Sanctuary. I could watch the boy just as easily from there while propped against a rock, lying on a sleeping fur instead of bobbing on the waves. A small basket held some snacks and weak wine for me to enjoy as I read in the hot sun.

"If you need anything, you give a shout," I warned as I disembarked. Aventus solemnly nodded before pushing off.

"I wish Babette could come at least once," the boy grumbled as he rowed out to deeper water. It had been eight months since Aventus joined us and Babette still had not revealed that she is a vampire. I couldn't help but feel it won't be for much longer. Aventus was starting to get suspicious.

One day while we were out fishing, Aventus asked, "Babette isn't like other girls, is she?"

"She is an assassin, dear," I said, folding my page to mark it. Festus used to always cringe when I did that and I thought of the cranky old wizard every time when I did it now. I felt both a pang of sadness and fondness at the memory.

"No, not that. I mean in other ways. Like how she sleeps every day and the way she talks sometimes. She doesn't talk like other kids I know. And how long has Babette been in the Brotherhood anyway? She's told me stories of her contracts and there are lots of them. How did she get so good with potions?"

"You'll have to ask her that," I said quickly putting my nose back into my book.

"But it's rude to ask other siblings about themselves," Aventus reminded me. "Remember how mad you got when Meena told me to ask you and Cicero about making the beast with two backs? I still don't know what that means, but you sure were mad."

Somehow I managed to push my face even further into my book to hide my blush. I'll kill that cat yet. Meena had thought it would be funny to put Aventus up to that little query when Cicero and I returned from Heart's Day in Solitude.

It was the other reason I was spending so much time with Aventus on his rowboat. I had thought sleeping with Cicero would erase my desire for the jester just like with every other lover I had ever taken. The thrill of the hunt was over. Surely the want would fade, right? Wrong.

If anything, learning exactly what the Keeper was capable of just made me want more. I had never been in a position to have a regular lover and actually had gone out of my way to avoid it. I didn't want the maintenance.

As fun as several months of sexcapades with the Keeper would have been, I had too many other responsibilities to indulge. We still desperately lacked any arcane support in our ranks and Nazir was busy outfitting the torture room for Aventus' next step in training. I dreaded that part very much and often found myself waking up in the morning with my stomach hurting with anxiety.

I was so busy with my thoughts; I failed to see the figure pull up from the depths of the water behind me on the islet. I didn't notice until cold wet hands wrapped around me, pinning my arms to my side. I screamed in terror until I turned around and saw a dripping wet Cicero grinning madly wearing only his underthings.

I was also wearing only my underclothes. It only made sense in the hot sun to not wear normal clothes so you could take a dip in the much cooler water without worrying about the weight dragging you down or the seawater spray ruining your outfit while in the boat.

"What are you doing here?" I squeaked. The jester had scared the breath out of me. "How did you get here?"

"Just because Cicero gets seasick, doesn't mean he cannot swim," Cicero teased. He pushed me until I was lying on my back on the sleeping fur. With Cicero pressed against me, my clothes were dampened from his wet skin and definitely not from the pressure of his hips on mine. "Remember when Cicero swam with Hecate to kill the Emperor? Cicero had to stare at Hecate's fat bottom as she climbed the anchor."

"You're so smooth," I said sarcastically. I craned my neck to check on Aventus and saw that he was fine. The boy's back was to us, but he was in the boat and clearly not in trouble.

"May I?" Cicero asked with his lips near my ear.

"May you do what?" I asked confused.

"This," the Keeper demonstrated by cupping my 'fat bottom' with both his hands while continuing with more pressure from his hips onto mine. I gasped in pleasure from the friction.

"The boy will see us," I stammered. This was exactly why I had to avoid Cicero. He never exactly begged, but he would always ask permission for physical intimacy and I had a very, very hard time refusing him.

"Then he'll finally have the answer to his question, won't he?" Cicero said laughing. He had not continued his advances waiting for my response. Deft fingers played with the ties to my underclothes.

I had the unfortunate image of Aventus rowing by and innocently asking, "Is that what Meena meant?" I couldn't stop myself from laughing. Cicero looked confused, but joined me. I pushed him off me and sat up.

I wished I had brought spare clothes, but having to deal with my book, food, sleeping fur and an oversized hat to keep the overhead sun off my face had been enough of a burden at the time. Having a shirt to pull on now would have been nice with Cicero's hungry gaze taking in my mostly naked body.

Not that I wasn't doing the same thing back. Scars fascinate me and Cicero was covered in them. I wanted to know their stories, but was too shy to ask. The only one I recognized was the huge bite mark. Arnbjorn's scar dominated Cicero's left side and my eyes were drawn back to it. The werewolf had come very close to killing Cicero for trying to kill Astrid. As much as an inch to one side and Arnbjorn would have gotten that artery after all. I couldn't blame the Nord, but I was glad he had failed.

"When was the last time you slept?" I asked noting the dark shadows under Cicero's eyes. The jester shrugged. The days and nights tended to blur together for Cicero. He could remember certain big events by relating them to other things that had happened like killing the Emperor or meeting me, but ask him the day or date and you'd be lucky to get a correct answer. Except what day it was to oil the Night Mother. Cicero always got that one right.

"Lay by me," I commanded reclining on the sleeping fur again. This time Cicero was beside me in a more brotherly fashion. I picked up my book again certain of what would happen next.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Cicero asked. I sighed; sure enough he wasn't going to let me read.

"Why do you think I'm avoiding you?" I asked.

"Because you didn't deny it," Cicero scowled. "You just asked a different question."

I hesitated not sure how to answer. "I'm thinking," I said to stall for time.

"Cicero will wait," the Keeper promised. He rolled onto his stomach and folded his arms before resting his head on them.

I stared up at the clear blue sky. My hands were folded on my stomach with my book underneath. I crossed and uncrossed my ankles several times. As much as I tried, I couldn't think of a sensible way to express myself. I am avoiding you because I want to sleep with you? That was worse than when I had told Cicero I wouldn't sleep with him despite wanting to because of my one night stand only policy. Hell, my usual argument of not wanting the maintenance of a relationship didn't really hold water since the Keeper was higher maintenance of an entire Hold.

I was afraid of getting lost in those intense almost golden eyes. I couldn't surrender to those clever hands and eager mouth constantly when the Brotherhood needed me to be focused and lead them. Surely, Cicero would understand duty had to be first. I turned to the Keeper to give him my answer.

He was fast asleep.

Figures.

I pulled out my hat and placed it on my head as I settled down to read. At least I would have some quiet for a while.


Fredas 21 Mid Year 203 4E 6:00 PM

"It huuuuuuurts," Cicero whined. He was sitting in a chair wearing only his pants and boots. The motley top was folded to the side with his cap on top of it. Tears clung to his eyelashes. The jester was absolutely miserable.

I had forgotten that Cicero had barely been out in the sun unlike Aventus and me. Where we had slowly built up a tolerance to the hot sun's rays, Cicero was completely unprotected. Add in his fair skin and red hair, Cicero had suffered from a very bad sun burn. His entire body was an angry red color.

"Hold still, I cannot reach with you twitching like that," Babette scolded. She was gently applying some aloe vera to the burns. Cicero hissed and jerked away despite the vampire child's light touch.

"Babette should make Hecate do it," Cicero complained. "It's her fault this happened to poor, loyal Cicero." I giggled guiltily from Cicero's glare.

"It is not funny!" Babette snapped at me. She shoved the jar into my hands. "I believe the Keeper has a good point. You are at fault. You should not have let him stay out there for so long asleep directly under the noon sun. Did you even bother to think?" The vampire stomped off. It would have been funny if she wasn't so angry. I should have realized that Babette would not find a sunburn funny in the slightest.

I heard Cicero hissing in pain and saw that he was touching the sunburn. "Stop," I said. "Why are you touching it?"

"It hurts, it hurts, it hurts," Cicero cried. I rarely saw him in tears.

"Hold still. Let me apply the potion," I said feeling terrible. I really should have been more careful, but I had gotten caught up in my book and completely didn't take into consideration that Cicero would get a burn or that it would be so bad.

Cicero looked so pitiful with his red skin and sulky expression. I leaned forward and kissed him deeply. "I really am sorry," I murmured. I put some of the mixture on his burning cheeks.

"Hecate only wants Cicero when he's hurt or sick," the Keeper lamented still frowning. "Cicero wishes Hecate would be normal for once."


Sundas 30 Mid Year 203 4E 4:00 PM

It was time.

I had been dreading this for months now, but Nazir had declared that the torture room was ready to be implemented. Delvin Mallory had supplied the appropriate tools for the room months ago. The wall manacles had been replaced and firmly fastened. An iron maiden sat in one corner while the other housed a stretching device. Whips, pokers, daggers, and too many to name implements had been carefully categorized and organized for easy reference by Nazir's personal system. Cicero had danced with glee and clapped his hands like a small child eager to put them to use.

The other older assassins; Nazir, Babette, and Cicero, had lovingly looked over the various polished, gleaming steel tools of torture in a manner that I had found rather disturbing.

I had been surprised by Meena's attitude about the ordeal. I had thought she would join the others in their fascination. The Khajiit had disdained the need for both torture tools and room. "This one has her claws and fangs," she had said, "what more do I need?"

Ironically, I hated this room most because it had been where I thought I was saying goodbye to Cicero for the last time instead of its intended use. I never came in here; there was no reason to until now. However, if I was going to have Aventus train in torture, I felt I needed to attend too at least for the first session. I firmly believe that I should not ask someone to do something that I was not willing to do myself.

I was sitting crossed legged in the middle of the room on the floor. Aventus was sitting on my lap. The boy looked handsome in his Dark Brotherhood clothes. It suited him. The red shirt with the large Black Hand print emblazoned on the chest was a bit big, but I knew Aventus would quickly grow into it. He was growing rapidly and had already outgrown several outfits.

There were days I had wondered if I had done Aventus a great injustice by bringing him here. I could have just as easily forced him to go to Honorhall or paid someone to come for him. He would have been around real children his age and grown up learning all the lessons every child learns.

Instead he was here learning how to bring pain to an unknown stranger so he could survive when he must kill. For an assassin to hesitate at the wrong moment, to flinch for even a second, could mean death for the killer and not the target.

At least the boy looked excited. His physical training was going as well as could be expected. He moved quietly in the shadows and managed to steal a fair amount of snacks that he generously shared with his siblings, namely Meena and Cicero. Aventus had been hurt that Babette never shared in the bounty, but the girl always made sure to praise him for his skill.

Cicero was looking much better too. Babette's oils and potions had done wonders for the Keeper's skin. There had been minimal peeling but only because I had been required to "Oil the Cicero" multiple times a day. I was so tired of Cicero insisting that I get "all the hard to reach spots."

Sometimes I feel like I don't give Babette enough credit as our alchemist and healer. The girl literally had hundreds of years of experience. Her potions were stronger and smoother than any others I had quaffed. The problem is that restoration, whether it was a spell or potion, has limited effectiveness. You have to use restoration almost immediately to have any effect. Even then it only really works on immediate damage. Wounds knit together faster, but the actual damage is still there, especially if it is tissue or bone damage. The name "healing potion" is actually misleading. They don't repair so much as help block out the pain so you can keep functioning at optimum efficiency while fighting in increasingly more dangerous situations.

Think of it as an adrenaline rush in a bottle.

Regardless, Babette's potions had reduced most of the pain Cicero would have suffered and kept his skin moisturized enough that he barely peeled at all. Ten days later, Cicero's skin was only a little red similar to a healthy blush instead of the angry burns he had initially.

There was currently only one victim chained to the wall. There could be more, but Nazir had felt that having one would allow Aventus to focus his attention instead of being distracted by others' cries for help. She was an older woman, a grandmotherly type with her iron gray hair pulled back into a stern braid wrapped into a bun that had mostly fallen apart. Her wrists bled from straining against the iron manacles.

Cicero hummed happily as he tested his blade for sharpness. "Is Aventus ready?"

"Yes," the boy said, leaning forward. His posture was that of an eager student not only ready to learn but to make his teacher proud.

Cicero smiled cheerfully before turning to his victim. "Hello, hello!" he chirped. "You're going to be our test subject today. Lucky you!"

"Please, this is about my husband's money, isn't it?" the woman rasped. "I'll tell you where I hid it from the tax collectors. I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

"No, no, no!" Cicero scolded clicking his tongue in frustration. "You spoke much too soon. You were supposed to wait and let Cicero show the boy what to do. Now what can Cicero do? Hm, I suppose showing where to cut for the most amount of time with the least bleeding will have to suffice. Lesson plan change, sorry." His playful grin was not the least bit apologetic, but almost gleeful.

"Come close, child," Cicero gestured for Aventus to stand next to him. "How can Aventus learn from so far away? Most of the training is in the holding of the blade anyway. Cicero will stab and slice and cut. Then it will be Aventus' turn. Generous Cicero will not be greedy and not share."

Aventus looked at me and I nodded permission. The boy scrambled to his feet and ran to the Keeper. "Did you bring a blade?" Aventus nodded. "Good, good. Now watch."

The next two hours were very educational for both Aventus and me. The boy followed Cicero's examples with much less finesse but with more than enough enthusiasm. By the end of the lesson, the two of them were covered in splatters of blood and the woman was dead.

The woman had begged and screamed for help and mercy. She offered to tell them whatever they wanted to know and had even offered up what she considered useful tidbits to distract her tormentors. Mostly Cicero and Aventus ignored her as Cicero explained what he was doing and why. A few times Cicero had slapped the woman screaming at her to shut up so he could talk. They never once asked her a question, not even her name. I could see the confusion in her eyes as she died; why would anyone hurt her so and not want something from her in return?

When the lesson ended, Aventus solemnly thanked Cicero for his time and instruction. Cicero had laughed and ruffled the boy's hair before dismissing him. "Go. Clean up. Get ready for dinner."

Cicero turned to me smiling madly after Aventus had scurried away. He rubbed his hands in satisfaction. "That went rather well I think. Using a woman who looked similar to Grelod was a stroke of genius on Nazir's behalf." Cicero bent forward so his face was inches from mine. "What do you think, Listener?"

I looked at Cicero's blood splattered face and then over to the dead woman. Words failed me; I couldn't think of anything to say. Instead I burst into tears.

Cicero jumped back; startled by my reaction. "What's wrong? Did Cicero do something wrong? Tell Cicero!" He fluttered around anxiously while I sat on the ground weeping. Cicero sank to his knees and drew me into his arms. Part of me wanted to resist and shy away from the blood of his victim, but I wanted his embrace more.

I sank my head against the jester's shoulder and cried. I couldn't do this. I could kill someone. I could order to have someone tortured for information, but to hurt them just for the sake of it? No.

"Just tell Cicero what is wrong. Cicero will make it better," the Keeper tilted my face up and rained down butterfly kisses to try to wash away the tears. Our roles were reversed with him as the comforter and me as the inexplicably tormented soul.

Oh, the irony.