A/N: Might be spoilery if you haven't gone through the Dark Brotherhood quests. Thought I'd be nice and throw that out there.
Djarfskald loved the way the leather clung to her, like a second skin. It made sneaking all the more easy. That thought was never far from her mind when she dressed for the Dark Brotherhood. It shouldn't have been, not at the forefront. She stared at the iron door before her; she had her mission. Licking her lips Djarfskald pushed open the door with little sound and slipped in, closing it quickly behind her. She had to move fast.
The Night Mother's Coffin stood before a stained glass window, bathed in red light the window gave off. Djarfskald's heart pounded as she stared at the iron maiden inspired coffin. She knew what was inside and it made her stomach turn. There was the mission, though, and she couldn't defy Astrid, not after she finally had the woman's trust.
Producing a lock pick Djarfskald went to work. It wasn't long before she heard the familiar click of the item unlocking. She smiled to herself and without a moment to listen to fear she opened the coffin. The body inside was a shadow of its former self. The body's was hugging itself, head tilted to one side and mouth open in a silent call.
"Come on," Djarfskald murmured to herself. "Just hop in and don't think of it."
Taking in a deep breath Djarfskald stepped onto the small platform that the body rested on, her feet straddling those of the Night Mother. Her gloved fingers took hold of the doors and pulled them shut behind her. Darkness fell around her. Much to her relief the inside of the coffin was pitch black. While she knew there was a body before her there was no visual cue and the smell of flowers filled the small space, fending off any odors that might be present.
"Are we alone?"
Djarfskald jumped at the sound of Cicero's voice. She hadn't heard the man enter.
The manic jester laughed, "Yes, yes. . . alone! Sweet solitude. No one will hear us, disturb us. Everything is going according to plan. The others! I've spoken to them and they're coming around, I know it. The wizard, Festus Krex. . . perhaps even the Argonian, and the un-child. . . ."
The was a slight tapping on the coffin from behind Djarfskald, causing her to stiffen in fear.
"What about you? Have you," Cicero's voice wavered for a moment. "Have you spoken to anyone? No. . . No, of course not. I do the talking, the stalking, the seeing, and saying!" The man must have struck the coffin out of frustration, causing it to ring on the inside like bell. "And what do you do? Nothing! Not. . . not that I'm angry! No, never! Cicero understands. Heh. Cicero always understands! And obeys!" The jester's voice lowered, sounding almost sadden by what he had just admitted.
Djarfskald frowned, 'The man's daft.'
"You will talk when you're ready, won't you? Won't you. . .sweet Night Mother."
"Poor Cicero. Dear Cicero." Djarfskald felt her skin crawl as she heard those words, spoken by the breathy sweet voice of a woman, swirl around her. "Such a humble servant, but he will never be my voice. For he is not the Listener."
Cicero cried, "Oh but how can I defend you? How can I exert your will if you will not speak to anyone?"
"Oh but I will," that voice said. Djarfskald clamped her gloved hands over her mouth as she felt the faint touches of fingers trailing over her. It felt oddly affectionate as those ghostly hands stroked her hair. "I will speak to you, for you are the one."
'No. . . I'm going crazy,' Djarfskald thought. 'It, she, isn't talking to me.'
"Yes, you," the voice replied. "You who shares my iron tomb, who warms my ancient bones. I give you this task- journey to Volunruud. Speak with Amaund Motierre."
"Poor Cicero has failed you. Poor Cicero is sorry, sweet mother." The man was almost weeping. "I've tried, so very hard, but I just can't find the Listener."
Those ghostly hands embrace Djarfskald and for a brief moment she felt the warm comfort a mother's touch. "Tell Cicero the time has come. Tell him the words he has been waiting for, all these years: 'Darkness rises when silence dies'."
Djarfskald felt the cool iron doors behind her disappear and light flood around her as she fell onto her back. Whatever pain she may have felt was gone the moment she met the anger filled eyes of Cicero, who loomed over her. "What? What treachery! Defiler," Cicero hissed. "Debaser and defiler! You have violated the sanctity of the Night Mother's coffin! Explain yourself." He kicked her violently the moment she began to move, "Speak, worm."
"The Night Mother spoke to me," Djarfskald stammered, rushing to her feet. "She said I am the one."
Cicero's eyes grew wide, the anger leaving them for the briefest of moments, "She. . . spoke to you? More treachery! More trickery and deceit. You lie. The Night Mother only speaks to the Listener. And there is. . . NO. . . Listener!"
Djarfskald caught Cicero's arm as he shot forward, surprised to see the glint of a steel dagger in his hand. He stared at her, the surprise of being caught absent from his expression but his eyes filled with rage filled tears. "She said to tell you, 'Darkness rises when silence dies'."
"She. . . she said that?" The dagger fell from Cicero's hand with a clatter against the stone floor. He blinked away tears, "She said those words. . . to you? 'Darkness rises when silence dies'? But those are the words; the Binding Words. Written in the Keeping Tomes. The signal so I would know. Mother's only way of talking to sweet Cicero. . . ."
In a flurry of motion Cicero escaped Djarfskald's grip and the tears and sadness in his eyes were gone. In their place was a smile as a man danced around her. "Then it's true! She is back," he grinned. "Our lady is back! She has chosen a Listener and she has chosen you!" Laughter ripped through Cicero's body as he took hold of Djarfskald, forcing her to skip in a circle. "All hail the Listener!"
"By Sithis, this end's now!" The sound of Astrid's voice brought the strange dance to an end as Cicero wheeled around. She brandished her blade with a frown. "Back away, fool! Whatever you were planning is over!" Djarfskald hurried to the woman's side, surprised as she stepped between her and Cicero. "Are you all right? I heard the commotion. Who was Cicero talking to? Where's the accomplice? Reveal yourself, traitor!"
Cicero crossed his arms over his chest, "I spoke only to the Night Mother! I spoke to the Night Mother and she didn't speak to me! Oh no! She spoke only to her! To the Listener."
Astrid strode forward, seizing the jester by his collar, "What? The Listener? What are you going on about? What is this lunacy?"
"It's true, it's true!" Cicero let his head fall back as he was wracked with laughter. "The Night Mother has spoken! The silence has been broken and the Listener has been chosen!"
With a growl Astrid released Cicero from her grip and turned to Djarfskald. "What in Sithis' name is going on? Cicero spoke to the Night Mother, but she spoke to you?"
Djarfskald nodded, "It's true. The Night Mother spoke to me. She said 'I am the one'."
"What?" Astrid shook her head, "So Cicero wasn't talking to anyone else. Just the Night Mother's body? And the Night Mother, who, according to everything we know, will only speak to the person chosen as Listener. . .just spoke. . . right now. . .to you?"
"Yes," Djarfskald replied matter-of-factly.
A look of anger flashed in Astrid's eyes, "By Sithis. What did she say?"
"That I must speak to someone named Amaund Motierre in Volunruud."
"I have no idea who that is. But Volunruud, that I've heard of and I know where it is."
Djarfskald swallowed hard, "So I should go to Volunruud and speak to this man? Like the Night Mother has said?"
Astrid frowned, "No! Listen, I don't know what's going on here but you take your orders from me. Are we clear on that?" She shot Cicero a look of pure hatred as the man began to protest. "The Night Mother may have spoken to you but I am still the leader of this Family. I will not have my authority so easily dismissed."
Djarfskald watched as Astrid left, barely hearing the woman give her further orders as she disappeared. She looked at Cicero; the man was staring at her with a smile on his face. "What do you think about all of this?"
"Cicero thinks Astrid is over stepping her bounds." The smile on Cicero's face was suddenly gone, replaced a look far more serious. "The Night Mother has spoken to you and you are Listener. She must pay for ignoring you and mother."
"Don't worry, Cicero. Give her time."
