Middas 28 Last Seed 203 4E 5:00 PM

I smiled as I watched Cicero and Garnag hugging. Two brothers at long last reunited. I remembered how Nazir had heard that our prisoner had been in the Imperial prison for over a decade. It gave me a better idea of exactly how long Cicero had been alone with the Night Mother in Cheydinhal Sanctuary. Little wonder our jester was so strange.

"Present my son to me, daughter," the Night Mother's voice filled my mind. I was tickled to hear the pleased tone in her voice.

"Garnag, Mother wishes to see you," I informed the orc. Cicero and he have one arm around the other laughing merrily. They had been bombarding each other with questions when I interrupted them.

"Of course, apologies, Listener," Garnag said.

"Ooooh, foolish Cicero was inconsiderate to Mother! Of course, of course Mother should see Garnag first," the Keeper was flustered for once and I laugh as he jumped around nervously full of energy.

The older orc and I approached the coffin. It was standing open showing Mother in her terrible beauty. A dozen candles on the shrine lit the coffin causing shadow to flicker over her face. The smell of fresh nightshade wafted up clogging my nose. Garnag immediately showed reverence by kneeling in supplication. I started to follow, but a tug in my mind held me short.

"I am to speak for Mother. The words I utter are her words," I reported a little surprised. Any commands in the past were always given to me and then I was to repeat them in my own way afterwards. This is the closest Mother has spoken directly to anyone other than myself.

"'Ah, the prodigal son returns. I am pleased that you have returned safely to our home, my son. You are to advise the Listener with your knowledge of the Old Ways. Teach her of how we lived before the Sanctuaries fell. In return, you have been forgiven and the price has been paid for your crime.'"

"Thank you, Mother. I rejoice that you grace us with your wisdom once again. You will not be disappointed," Garnag said. His eyes were carefully lowered so as to not stare at the Night Mother.

"'You are dismissed. Meet your new brothers and sisters. Celebrate for you have been born again in blood and shadow,'" I uttered. I felt a chill as I repeated the Night Mother's words as if she was truly moving through me instead of me being the one speaking.

Assuming I had also been dismissed, I started to follow Garnag, but Mother's words stopped me short. "Tell loyal Cicero that he is also forgiven," the Night Mother stated. I could feel her attention on the Keeper who was busy laughing with the others over something someone said. A wave of love from the Night Mother went toward him and I felt overwhelmed with jealousy.

I've never begrudged Cicero's relationship with the Night Mother. I realized that they had been together a very long time and he was completely dedicated to her. If I felt that I came second to his goddess, what was wrong with that? If Cicero had not been so loyal and steadfast, then I never would have become the Listener. Of everyone, I was the only one who could possibly understand the sheer love the Unholy Matron had to give for her children.

But when I sensed Mother's love for her favorite son, pure and unrestrained, in that moment, I saw red. I had been the one who had obeyed her command. I was the one who had to travel for over nine weeks away from Sanctuary and home to deal with Stormcloaks, Imperials, and bandits to retrieve her lost son. I was the one who had struggled to regain her favor and instead it was given to her preferred son.

I stifled a squall of protest. I sometimes worried exactly how much access to my mind the Night Mother had. Could she only sense thoughts directed towards her, could she sense surface thoughts, or could she see into the very depths of my mind? No daughter should have to suffer for her mother to have that much access, but what could I do? One does not say no to the Night Mother.

I bowed indicating my obedience and was finally dismissed. I joined the others, but my joy was diminished. It was like coming to a grand feast with all your favorite food cooked to perfection, but finding a fly in your soup. Not enough to ruin the meal completely but still annoying enough that you can't enjoy it as much as you should have.

Middas 28 Last Seed 203 4E 11:00 PM

"I cannot believe how different he is," Garnag said nodding towards Cicero. The jester was goofing off with Aventus and Babette. The trio was laughing hysterically as the two smaller assassins chased Cicero who was holding a plate of candy high above his head.

Garnag, Nazir, and I were sitting around the table enjoying a bottle of Imperial wine I had bought while in Cyrodiil. In fact I had bought an entire crate before leaving the homeland. I figured I had paid enough for cargo space on the boat that I might as well use it, and Imperial vintage was getting harder and harder to find with the rebellion stretching on.

"In what way?" I ask. I had been quiet most of the night. We are celebrating a brother joining our ranks, but in a more subdued manner than our last two recruits. Maybe it is because Garnag was older or maybe it was because he was already a brother who was lost not just found, but the mood was different.

I suspected much had happened the two months Nazir and I have been gone. I can tell there is a space between Aventus and Babette that wasn't there before. I haven't seen Meena yet; she was out when we returned. Cicero is Cicero, joyful and strange.

"Chickpea used to be very quiet. Very serious and solemn too. I think the sisters found it strangely alluring since it made him very mysterious," Garnag said after thinking a moment. "He never lacked for company at night."

"Did you hear that, Nazir?" I grinned. "Cicero used to be quiet!"

"Ugh, by Sithis, why couldn't he have stayed that way?" Nazir lamented as he downed his glass.

"What else?" I urged Garnag on. I always craved more information about Cicero's past. I knew on some level it was strange to wonder who he used to be when the Fool of Hearts only lived in the now, but as Garnag said the mystery was part of the allure.

"I remember when he joined us in Cheydinhal. Burma had fallen and he was the only sibling to make it out alive. We only called him Cicero then, the nickname would come later. But we all swarmed around him and welcomed. We were glad at least someone survived the destruction."

There went my theory that Cicero had been the jester's name, stolen like the rest of his identity by the Keeper. I was intrigued to find out that Cicero was not originally from Cheydinhal. He had never mentioned Burma, a Nordic settlement in northern Cyrodiil so I assumed Cheydinhal had always been his home.

"He was friendly enough. A person always felt welcome with Chickpea. You'd come in from a contract and his face would light up, especially if you had been gone a long time. If you told about your kill, it was like you were the only person in the world.

"Chickpea kept to himself though. He would sit in a corner writing in his journal while the rest of us would sit around drinking and bullshitting. Sometimes someone would drag him over to join us, but when he did Chickpea would just mostly watch the rest of us. I don't think I ever heard him laugh. A small smile or maybe a light chuckle, but never a full gut busting laugh."

"I don't understand why you called him Chickpea," Nazir admitted as he filled everyone's cups. "It is a type of bean common in Imperial dishes, right?"

Garnag and I laughed. "It's a type of linguistic joke," I explained. "It's what Cicero's name would mean if you translated it. Kind of how your name would mean 'helper' or Babette's would mean 'my god is my oath.'"

"And what would your name mean, Listener?" Nazir asked politely.

"It's a complicated name," I admitted. "It belonged to an ancient goddess of Cyrodiil, from before people turned to the Divines. She was a goddess of magic, crossroads, and the moon." I had mostly taken the name for the connections with the moon. Diana, my old name, had also been a goddess of the moon and I had always felt the connection. To be the wanderer, traveler, and hunter always following the path of the moon owing nothing to any man was the life I wanted. Eternal virgin, yet motherly at the same time. That goddess had been a contradiction comfortable with being true to her own self.

"Oh, so much more than that!" Cicero popped up behind me. I barely managed to not spill my drink from jumping in surprise. It felt like any time I took my eye off the Keeper, he was springing up from behind me. "Darkness, blood, and secrets too! Sharp, sharp daggers for rituals of sacrifice. Maiden, mother, and crone was three-faced Hecate." Cicero cackled at his own cleverness.

"Join us, brother," Garnag said. "We were just talking about you."

"Talking about humble Cicero? Then I must stay lest you all slander the Fool of Hearts' good name," Cicero flopped into a seat. He refused Garnag's offer of wine.

"I was just going to tell them about when Rasha made you Keeper," Garnag said. "The Black Hand had convened the night before and taken a vote. When the old cat put his arm around Chickpea and told him the good news, I thought his face was going to fall off from how hard his jaw dropped. 'Oh, not me, there must be some mistake. I'm not worthy.'" The orc laughed at the memory.

"Oh, yes, dear old Rasha," Cicero drawled. There was an undertone and the way he looked at Garnag when he said it seemed dark. Garnag got the same vibe because he immediately shut up. There was a look of guilt on Garnag's face.

I frowned at the interaction. I had not had a chance to give Cicero Mother's message yet. I felt she had meant for it to be private and would tell him when I had a chance. Yet, what could the two of them have done that required forgiveness?

"I'm hoooooooome!" Meena's shrill voice could be heard at the top of the stairs. I could hear a series of thuds as she fell down them.

"By Mara," I muttered. "Garnag, that's our last sister, Meena. I hope you like Khajiit." I got up to go check on her to make sure she hadn't broken anything. One could hope though.

"Oh, you're home," Meena looked at me with one eye shut as if she was winking. She smelled strongly of mead. "Meena celebrated her contract before coming home. Everyone was boring with Hecate and Nazir gone. Little kids cannot drink and stupid Keeper wouldn't." She wobbled to her feet. "How did your contract go?" I always that it was funny that Meena stayed more or less the same level of coherent drunk as when she was sober. Only catnip made her completely incomprehensible.

I offered Meena a hand to steady her. She leaned into me and nuzzled the side of my face with her muzzle. "I love you!" the Khajiit declared drunkenly.

"Sigh, I love you too, sister," I started dragging her to the Initiate's room. "I think it's bed time for you."

"No! I just got here, you got here, Nazir got here, that one other guy just got here," Meena pointed to Garnag. "Hello, new person!" Meena turned towards me, "He's with us right?"

"Yes." I refrained from groaning. It felt like the only time I really interacted with Meena she was off her mind from one reason or another. I didn't know enough Khajiit to know if this was standard for them or if it was another reason she was a social outcast.

"I'm a kitty!" Meena explained as she curled up next to Garnag. "You remind of this orc I met in Cidhna Mine. Oh, he was so hot with being shirtless and chiseled abs."

"Unfortunately, I'm neither of those," Garnag said repressing a chuckle.

"I wanted his babies," Meena said solemnly. "I mean to have, not eat. This one was never into cannibalism. Tried it once, but didn't really see the appeal. Although there were a lot of interesting people from Markarth at that feast. Old priest got to be the guest of honor. And by guest of honor, Meena means that he was the main course."

"Okay, I'm going to bed," I said standing quickly. This conversation had just gotten way too bizarre for me. "Still recovering from my long journey and I could use the rest."

"Garnag, why don't you take Cicero's room?" the Keeper offered. "As a veteran it doesn't seem appropriate to put you with the initiates. At least until we can figure out better accommodations."

"I couldn't possibly take your room," Garnag replied. "Besides, I wouldn't mind the company. So many years alone in a ten by ten room makes it so one craves the company of others."

"Cicero understands," the jester said completely serious for once.

Turdas 29 Last Seed 203 4E 1:00 AM

I was lying on my bed reading when Cicero came into my room. "What do you want?" I snapped as I closed my book. I was never going to finish it at this point. After two months of neglect I barely remembered who was who and what their goals were.

"Cicero thought the Listener looked tense tonight," the Keeper said. He walked in without being invited and sat on the edge of the bed. Leaning over and rubbing my shoulders, Cicero said, "I thought I could help you relax."

"I'm not in the mood," I growled moving away. I'm always unreasonably bitchy when I'm tired and I was still resentful of Mother's affection for Cicero earlier.

"Did Cicero do something wrong?" he asked confused by my actions.

When I was putting Aventus to bed, Garnag had come into the Initiate's room to pick out a bed. I had made the mistake of asking the old orc, "By the way, I didn't get to ask earlier, but who was Alisanne Dupre?"

"Your predecessor," Garnag had replied while he placed fresh sheets on the cot. "How did you know her name?"

"Cicero had mentioned her," I said a little stunned. I had never really given thought to who the old Listener had been.

"I'm not surprised," Garnag smiled. "I think Chickpea was a little in love with her. He stood in awe of her when she came to visit Rasha and asked all sorts of questions about her when she left. Listener Alisanne was a fine, noble woman. I'm ashamed I wasn't able to save her when the Night Mother's crypt was finally infiltrated. Poor woman burned alive in mage fire."

Would I always be in the shadow of the Listener?

Between that little enlightening tidbit and my earlier jealousy, I was in no mood to be around Cicero. The jester, on the other hand, clearly wanted to spend time with me. Despite my clear body language that I wanted to be left alone, he stayed on the edge of the bed watching me. Golden eyes begged me to tell him what was wrong and how he could fix it.

After a few moments, I realized I wasn't going to be able to concentrate on reading. I put the book on a shelf and then moved to my wardrobe to change to my bedclothes. I was still wearing my shrouded leather armor. I probably should have changed out of it earlier, but you get used to the skin tight leather like a second skin and although it constricted I sometimes forgot I was wearing it instead of normal clothes.

I pulled out my gown and felt a presence behind me. I turned around and sure enough there was Cicero right behind me. He had no sense of personal space and often would get right behind me almost pushing me against stuff at times.

"Why don't you leave?" I said pushing Cicero back.

"What is your problem?" Cicero countered shoving back. I loved that he was reacting to me instead of just quietly accepting my attitude. It proved that he wasn't perfect, always willing to put up with anything thrown at him.

"You're my problem," I practically spitted. I shoved Cicero again I couldn't believe the next words to come out of my mouth. "I hate that you're Mother's favorite."

"Oh, you jest with poor, gullible Cicero," the Keeper laughed bitterly, "for you are Mother's favorite."

"She had a message specifically for you. You were the reason I had to go to the Imperial city to get Garnag. She had all that done for you!" I countered.

"You get to hear sweet Mother's voice, not Cicero!"

"You're the only one she calls by name. I'm always 'daughter' or 'Listener', but you get to be 'sweet Cicero!'" I was in Cicero's face making him back up.

"You're the one she waited for fourteen years to break the silence. Not loyal, faithful Cicero," Cicero said pushing me away.

"No, you!" Shove.

"No, you!" Shove back.

"You!" Somewhere in the storm of "you", Cicero and I were kissing. My legs were wrapped around his hips and he fell backwards onto my bed. Suddenly my top was off and somehow the Keeper had lost his pants.

"Mama's boy!"

"Brown noser!"

"Cry baby!"

"Brat!"

Dimly I knew we were fighting, but my brain wasn't exactly sure about what. It might have had something to do with why blood was rushing towards the bottom half of my body. All I knew was I planned on winning this fight one way or another.

Our hands were a flurry of pushing and pulling at each other. We weren't quite slapping each other so much as making full handed contact each time we touched.

My fingers in Cicero's hair weren't certain if they wanted to pull or just curl the fine hair with my fists. Cicero's lips nipped and kissed across my body making me gasp. Even when Cicero entered me, we were still yelling accusations at each other.

At some point I think one of us said, "I missed you," and the other replied, "Me too," but I'm not sure with mouths busy exploring each other's bodies.

Afterwards, we were both lying on the bed sweaty and out of breath. Cicero was smiling and lying on his stomach while I was sprawled on my back. I could feel sleep coming and I struggled to keep my eyes open as I rolled over to put my mouth against Cicero's ear.

"You," I whispered before rolling over and going to sleep.