Disclaimer: I only own a copy of Skyrim.


I kicked my lazy booty into gear and actually edited this chapter. I had a beta reader who edited this for me like months ago but...I honestly forgot who it was...I'll edit this with the credit where credit is due when I remember/find out...Heheh. This chapter isn't long but eh. It's something...


I slowly woke up to face a fire roaring strongly. My hand reached up and brushed my other arm's shoulder, and I noted that it was bare. I shifted to sit up but my side immediately had a sharp pain, instantly helping me feel a tad woozy. "The Listener is not fully healed, she should rest more before attempting to move!" a familiar voice scolded. I didn't answer, just closed my eyes and sighed heavily. "Is the Listener thirsty?"

I tried to croak no, but my throat was too dry and my voice cracked some. I felt a velvet glove pat my cheek and force me to lazily open my eyes. The jester was handing me a tankard. I took it and sloppily chugged it down, half-choking and spilling a good portion of it all over the fur blanket that was folded into a pillow.

"Does the Listener want more?"

I shook my head no and dramatically plopped onto the fur. I pulled the fur covering me up to my neck, rubbing my side were the source of my pain was, feeling heavy bandages all around my stomach and chest.

"What is wrong with Listener? Why is she not speaking to poor Cicero?"

Instead of a glove, I felt a bare hand touch my forehead. He felt too cold for my taste, making me whine pathetically. I was tired.

"Listener is burning up. Has she been too close to the fire too long or did that filthy troll give her an infected wound?"

I didn't respond to him, closing my eyes again and snuggling up in the furs. He smacked my cheek lightly again, making me grumble. A potion bottle was put to my lips, and I was too tired to really fight it as he poured a liquid down my throat. It had the sweet taste of honey with a slight bitter aftertaste, sort of like the cure disease potion Mama brewed for Ria and I when we got bitten by a skeever that one time.

After the bottle was empty, I felt Cicero lightly kiss my forehead and mutter something before I drifted off to sleep.


According to Cicero, I woke up two days after that. In that time, I faintly remember him dumping more and more potions into my mouth while I was half-asleep. After the second day when I woke up, I felt fully awake. I slowly sat up, the pain in my side not as harsh as it was when I awoken the first time after the attack. My hand slowly rubbed my side, realizing that the bandage was not as thick as the first time I took notice of it, covering from my belly button to come up just under my arms. The white was a very light pink on my left side.

I looked over and noticed Cicero lying on a single fur a short distance away, snoring lightly. Myself, I had a lot of furs, nearly six, covering me. Too many almost, I was a bit too warm. I shifted to stand. Cracking my back, I slowly stood and made my way to Cicero, gently laying the furs over him. He flinched, but didn't wake up. I found my shirt neatly folded on a wooden chair and put it on. My legs slowly moved me towards the door, stiff from the bandages around my knees and shins, and I went outside. The smell of the sea immediately hit me as well as the freezing weather. I shivered, wrapping my arms around me as I stared out at the water. The sun was beginning to rise.

I noticed Captain Wayfinder's ship was about to leave, his crew preparing the ship for deport. I briefly wondered where he was going, but my thoughts were distracted by noticing my old home was…rebuilt?

I jumped when I felt somebody wrapped a fur around my shoulders.

"Listener, you should be resting more," Cicero lightly scolded. I pulled the fur tighter around my shoulders and neck and began to walk towards Dawnstar. "Listener, where are you going?"

I ignored him and continued to shuffle towards my old home. The cabin was much larger than my old home, the wood fresh and new from the lumberyard. It had a porch. Our old home didn't have a porch. The porch had purple banners hanging with a strange symbol. A man in matching purple stood on the front porch, unlocking the door. I forced myself to rush a bit more.

"Excuse me! Wasn't this house burned down?" I called out to him. The man stopped and looked at me.

"Indeed. Fire killed the parents, and the daughters abandoned it, so the Jarl sold it to me for a thousand gold," he replied, opening the door. "It's a museum now. Come back when you have the gold, and I'll let you see some fascinating artifacts."

I couldn't even come up with a response, my mind blank. Cicero stood next to me and gently pulled me back to the Sanctuary. Once inside, I let my fury unleash.

"I cannot believe that the Jarl just LET him buy my old house! He turned a blind eye to Sera and I when our house burned and we were starving!" I screamed, grasping at the fur tightly before letting it fall from my shoulders.

"What would the Listener have Cicero do?" he offered.

"And you!" I yelled, turning to him. "What the hell is wrong with you? You went crazy, tried to kill Veezara and Arnbjorn, ran off to the Sanctuary, but then when I show up to kill you, instead of letting the troll kill me, you decide to slaughter the troll and save me!"

"You are the Listener! Mother chose you!" Cicero cried out. "And Cicero's been waiting for the Listener for as long as poor, humble Cicero can remember!"

I didn't say anything in response, just waited for him to continue.

"Mother's been silent, too silent. Silent for nearly as long as poor Cicero can remember," he continued seriously, his eyes becoming more and more distant as he spoke. "So silent, no Listener to tell Cicero what Mother's trying to tell him. No Listener to reveal the Black Sacraments, just silence. All of Cicero's brothers and sisters in Sithis left him, gone, gone, gone. Nobody but Mother there, but Mother is terrible company when there is no Listener. She never spoke to Cicero. Not. A. Single. Word. It was so quiet, always so quiet. You could say the silence was…maddening."

I snapped my fingers, and the far-away look disappeared.

"Cicero has waited too long for the Listener to just let her be a troll's plaything," he half-chirped with a mad grin.

I sat slowly on the wooden chair and sighed.

"You know Astrid wants me to kill you, right?" I informed him. Cicero looked a tad surprised but nodded.

"I do feel bad for Veezara," he said quietly. "But please tell me that the stupid sheepdog met his death."

"No, he didn't," I sighed. Cicero looked heavily disappointed. "Do you still have your butcher knife?" He shook his head no.

"Cicero dropped it in the snow near the beach," he replied. "The sheepdog was hot on Cicero's trail so he didn't stop to look."

"And how much gold are you carrying?" Cicero checked his pockets and informed me that he had a little over a hundred. "Give me about thirty gold so that I can get back to Falkreath. I let Arnbjorn take Shadowmere back to the Sanctuary."

"You let that hulking sheepdog take Shadowmere!" he roared, stomping his foot and growling angrily.

"Get over it fool! He wouldn't hurt the horse!" I hissed back. Cicero gave me a glare but gave me the gold. I slowly stood and made my way to the door, holding my side some as it began to ache.

"The Listener cannot leave! She is not fully healed yet!" he scolded, grabbing and pulling me, making me trip over my own feet a tad before I found myself sitting on the furs once again. "Cicero will go and get more potions from the kind elderly woman."

"Get me materials to write to Astrid," I told him. Cicero scowled.

"Why would the Listener want to write to that harlot Astrid!" he whined, beginning to throw a fit. "She lies and is mean to Cicero, all of them are!"

"Cicero," I sighed impatiently. "Look, if Astrid thinks you killed me, she will send somebody else. We don't want to hurt another family member, right? That's against the 5 Tenants. I'm going to write to Astrid reporting your death, but that you put up a good fight along with the troll so I need to stay here and recover, but when I'm well I will return."

"The Listener isn't really going to return though, correct?" he asked, voice shaking in slight worry. "Why would the kind and sweet Listener return to them?"

"I'm the Listener. Somebody has to care for Mother," I had to remind him. "And we still have a contract to carry out. You have to stay here though, and maybe when everybody's blown this whole thing over, when people have forgotten and the Dark Brotherhood has returned to glory, I can admit the truth and talk Astrid into letting you back in."

"Why not just kill poor Cicero?" he mumbled, sighing.

"You saved my life twice. For once, I get to save you. Now go and get what we need."

"Right, right! Cicero will go and get potions, parchment and more bandages! Oh don't be embarrassed dear Listener! Cicero has already seen you! The bandages did not put themselves on!"

I glanced down at my bandages, cheeks burning when I realized that he was right.