A/N: Apologies for the long hiatus, I got inadvertently bunnied by another SKM prompt. You know how it is.
Anyway, here is a chapter, and to make up for the delay, there is pr0n. Filthy pr0n. Depraved, tentacled, dubcon, Cicero/Miraak pr0n.
There is also a Doctor Who reference in here - you'll know it when you see it.
Summary: Cicero, Aela, Frea and Ria explore Miraak's Temple, and Ria's feeling a bit surplus to requirements... but that's nothing to how Cicero feels when he finally lays eyes on their quarry and realises he's taken on more than they bargained for.
Ria wasn't sure what she hated most about the place. Was it the cultists throwing magic at her? Draugr that seemed fiercer and fouler-tempered than their Skyrim counterparts? Or was it the traps, that Cicero and Aela seemed to skip right over and even Frea seemed to avoid, but that she always walked straight into?
As the Deathlord swung its ebony war axe at her and the spiked gate kept smacking into her, spikes penetrating through even Akaviri steel, she decided it really didn't matter. She hated this place and that was enough.
Aela's arrow smacked into its chest, sending it staggering and giving Ria some much needed respite, then the gate hit her again and she fell back, bleeding.
"Cicero," she gasped, not sure why she was crying out for him, but he was the Dragonborn and fierce and nothing stopped him. "Cicero, help..."
"FUS RO DAH!" Unrelenting Force smacked the Draugr far away, sending them flying down the corridor, and then Cicero was there, grabbing her by the arm and hauling her away, one of his hands sending Restoration magic into her, sealing wounds and easing the pain.
"Come, come, Ria cannot fight Draugr there," Cicero was saying, his voice soothing in its cadence despite the singsong lilt of utter madness that never really left it. "Sweet Ria should not stay where the nasty trap gate will hit her. She does not have the healing gifts Frea does."
Frea was already chasing down the nearest Draugr, healing magic flaring as her own wounds closed, ready to rejoin the fight. Aela was letting loose with her bow, skilfully avoiding the pressure plate as she hit the target every time. Ria meanwhile was clinging on to Cicero, wincing in pain, worn out, wanting to go home and wishing she'd never come. Cicero didn't need her. No one needed her. She was just a twenty one year old kid, out of her depth and with no special powers or magic or mighty warrior skills. She should have stayed at Jorrvaskr and stuck with hunting bears.
"Are you better, sweet child?" Cicero asked gently, patting her shoulder. Ria nodded, accepting the offer of a healing potion and stamina potion.
"I think so," said Ria, gasping for breath. "Thank you."
"It is no trouble," said Cicero, rubbing her back. "Ria... if you wished to go back to Raven Rock, Cicero would think no less of you. Aela and Frea and Cicero can do this, we are not unskilled, and Calixto might welcome help watching over our friends."
"I'm not going back," Ria growled, reaching for her katana. She could only imagine how Aela and Vilkas would react to hearing she'd walked away from the fight. No, she was a Companion of Ysgramor now, and Companions did not back down just because a thing was hard. "FOR THE GLORY OF YSGRAMOR!"
Cicero watched, grinning as Ria charged back into action. Companions. So easy to manipulate, you didn't even need a Courage spell. Just imply that perhaps they should walk away from a fight and they'd all charge straight into the thick of it. Of course he didn't want to see Ria hurt, no. But he didn't like seeing her so unsure of herself either. That and Vilkas would never stop harassing her unless he finally got it into his skull Ria could take care of herself, and he'd never believe it until she did. Which she would never manage until she actually won some fights that challenged her.
Judging from the way she'd just charged into that Draugr, this wasn't going to be one of them.
After the Draugr and trap door combination had come the long corridor with the axe trap, circumvented when Cicero told everyone to wait, shrieked "FEIM ZII!" and skipped blithely through without a care in the world, finding the lever and shutting the whole thing down so the three women could walk through.
"How... how did he do that?" Frea whispered as Cicero solidified again, skipping about as if everyone could do that.
"He's special," was all Aela felt like saying right then, and Ria didn't fancy explaining the whole Dragonborn thing either. So they ventured on instead, for what seemed like miles and miles of corridors and traps and secret passages, with Draugr harassing them all the way. The monotony was broken by a Word Wall, which had Cicero squealing and cooing over it and excitedly babbling to Ria about it being the second word of some Shout called Dragon Aspect. To Aela's surprise, Ria seemed enthralled too, which was a little weird – sure, it looked a bit different to the Word Walls Aela had come across, being white stone not grey and the letters carved in red, but surely that alone wouldn't merit such enthusiasm, not from Ria anyway. Then she had no time to think about it when the coffins on the other side of the room fell open and the Draugr attacked.
Ten minutes of pitched battle followed, before the last of the Draugr finally keeled over and died, exploding from Dawnbreaker's touch as it did so. The toughest of them had a key on it, proving to unlock the door behind its coffin.
It proved to lead to an empty dining room and kitchen area.
"We fought all that lot for this?" Ria asked, disbelieving.
"No one builds all those protections in just to hide the kitchens, there must be a door somewhere," said Frea, already poking around. Cicero just giggled.
"Leave it to Cicero. There is sure to be a lever or a button somewhere!"
Sure enough, he found one and a hidden entrance opened up. More passageways, and more of those weird statues that looked like some sort of sea creature, except uglier and more threatening than most sea beasts.
"I don't like these statues, and there seems to be more of them as we get further in," said Frea, shuddering. "Almost feels like they're about to come to life."
Ria really wished Frea hadn't said that, and edged closer to Cicero for comfort.
"Don't say that, why did you say that?" she whispered. Cicero just petted her arm.
"Don't worry, sweet Ria, statues do not just come to life. Moving statues are not real, are they, Aela?"
"Well, I've heard a few stories," said Aela thoughtfully. "But never come across anything in person though. The only stories I've heard of stone things that come to life are gargoyles and the Aedra That Weep, and these don't look anything like those."
"Ooh, Cicero has heard of the Aedra That Weep!" Cicero squealed. "They can move as fast as an eye can blink, but only when they are not being watched! So you are all right as long as you don't blink!"
Ria whimpered and clung on to Cicero, eyes wide and not taking her eyes off the statue.
"Cicero," said Aela firmly, glaring at him. "The Aedra That Weep are not real. Stop frightening Ria."
"People would say that, the Aedra That Weep are better at not being noticed than Cicero is!" Cicero giggled. Ria stifled a scream, and Aela finally lost her temper and smacked Cicero hard on the backside. Cicero yelped and glared at Aela.
"Cicero did not consent to that!" he snapped.
"Stop scaring your sister and I won't have to touch you!" Aela shouted back. "There's likely to be enough genuinely dangerous things in here without telling stories of things that don't even exist!"
Cicero kept right on glaring, eyes narrowed, but at length he nodded curtly and backed down.
"Cicero shall be quiet," he purred. "If Aela does not hit him again."
"Act as your wife and your father would wish and I shouldn't need to," Aela returned, her own posture relaxing. Cicero nodded and moved on, and after a second or two, Aela followed. Next to Ria, Frea edged over to her.
"Is it always like this with you?" she whispered.
"Kind of," Ria said, thinking of all the times Cicero had squabbled with Shield-Siblings in Jorrvaskr – but Kodlak had always been there to arbitrate, and Cicero had always respected Kodlak's authority, always. But Kodlak wasn't here, and Delphine wasn't here, and nor was Eola or Aranea, or Madanach the Reach-King or anyone Cicero might actually respect or owe allegiance to, in fact it slowly dawned on Ria the person here who Cicero was closest to out of all of them was her. And she had no idea how to calm down, reassure or mollify a Cicero at the edge of his emotional reserves. Cicero was a very dangerous man who could carve someone into pieces before they even knew he'd moved, and he had the Thu'um besides, and it was now twenty four hours since he'd last slept. She'd got no idea when he'd last eaten. He must be nearing the end of his endurance, and with it his ability to rein in his temper. He wasn't terribly stable at the best of times and this was not the best of times. If Cicero lost it, she was the only one with any sort of ability to stop him and she had no idea how. It was a frightening situation. Which is why she kept it to herself.
"He can be a bit of a handful, but he usually means well," Ria lied. "He's just a little cranky and on edge. A few hours sleep should sort him out."
Frea nodded, still looking warily at Cicero, and Ria honestly couldn't blame her. Normally she'd consider him a dear friend who'd never harm her, and at heart she still did. But right now, he worried her.
At last they came to a large chamber comprising steps leading upwards. Steps... and a number of tripwires.
"What now?" Frea whispered. "Those look like traps."
A harsh rattle came from the top of the slope, the all-too familiar cry of the Draugr.
"Do you think," Aela murmured, "the Draugr might be lured in to said traps? We know they're not very bright."
Cicero grinned and raised his bow. One arrow to grab their attention, killing a skeleton archer in the process. Then the Sanguine Rose to really make things interesting.
"THERE YOU ARE, WEAKLING!" The summoned Dremora tore up the steps, breaking all the tripwires and causing boulders to come crashing down, taking out the remaining skeletons and the weaker Draugr, and causing the stronger ones to stagger. The rocks kept on coming, until finally they'd all come to a halt and one lone Deathlord staggered out, near the end of its strength. One arrow from Aela finished it.
"Is that it?" Ria whispered in the silence. "Are we done?"
"Looks like it," said Aela, getting up from where they'd all been crouching. "Let's see what this lot were guarding."
"This somehow seems like a bit of an anticlimax," said Frea, frowning as she nudged the Deathlord with her toe. "But still, I thank all three of you. I do not think I would have made it this far on my own."
"It is no trouble, no trouble at all!" Cicero giggled, dancing on the spot. "Cicero does this sort of thing all the time, isn't that right, Ria?"
"It's true, delving into dangerous Nordic ruins is a hobby of his," Ria added as Cicero skipped off after Aela. "He collects words off the Word Walls."
"Off the... like he did here," said Frea, eyes widening in understanding. "But no one can even read that tongue, it's the tongue of dragons, so my father tells me. It can be learnt by humans, but no one's got the secret any more, except a few scholars and... by the All-Maker. Is he...?"
"Yeah," said Ria, finding herself smiling up at Cicero's retreating back. "Yeah, he's a Dragonborn. Like Miraak. And he's going to kill that bastard Miraak and mount his head on his wall. Count on it, Frea."
"Maybe that's what I'm afraid of," Frea said quietly, not looking reassured. Ria didn't entirely blame her. Maybe Cicero was Dragonborn but morally speaking, he wasn't much better than Miraak. However, Ria could at least be thankful that Cicero was easily amused and not terribly ambitious. Maybe the area of the tundra near Rorikstead was getting known for the odd traveller disappearing, and for the mutilated remains of bandits and Skooma dealers and Thalmor patrols to keep being found dumped in the wilderness, but at least he'd never likely start trying to take over the world.
There was loot to be had at the very top of the room, and a passageway leading inwards, the architecture strange and not like the usual Nordic style. The strange tunnel led deeper, until it finally ended in a dark room with more of those creepy fish-monster statues... and a thick black book on a pedestal.
"I think this is it," said Aela quietly. "Whatever Miraak's doing, it's to do with that book, I know it."
"Not sure I want to be the one to read it," said Ria dubiously. "Looks evil."
"It is," said Frea, reaching for her axe. "But if it is the source of Miraak's power, it was never going to be anything but. We should take it to my father – wait!" Cicero had taken one look at the book, whimpered and turned to flee back down the corridor. Ria glanced at Aela, saw her nod, and then both women had moved to intercept the little fool before he could disappear on them.
"Where do you think you're going?" Aela demanded, grabbing an arm and hauling him back, Ria securing his other arm. "Companions don't just turn and run when things get dangerous!"
"Cicero isn't a Companion, well all right he is, but it was an accident!" Cicero wailed. "A technicality! He didn't mean to! He only comes back now so Kodlak doesn't get lonely! Cicero serves the Night Mother! And Cicero needs to go home, Listener needs him, Eola Tinvaaki needs him, Mother needs him, Cicero can't do this, please please, let poor Cicero go!" His eyes were wide, skin pale and waxy, real terror in his eyes and that scared Ria, that terrified Ria in fact, because Cicero wasn't afraid of anything. Cicero was the thing that terrified other people. Cicero wasn't meant to be running scared from the evil corners of the world – he was one of the world's evil corners.
"Cicero, stop it, this isn't like you, tell me what's wrong!" Ria cried. She turned and looked back at the book again – that had been the trigger, that had sent Cicero running, and while the thing looked pure evil, she didn't think an aura of pure evil alone would have frightened Cicero off. "Cicero, what is it? Is it that book? Have you seen it before? Or one like it?"
Cicero struggled in their arms, seeming to get even more panicked.
"Cicero doesn't want to! Cicero isn't going back!" he wailed. "Cicero was hurt and Cicero was scared and Cicero doesn't want to go there again!"
"Go where?" Aela demanded. "Dammit man, will you just tell me what's going on? Ria, can you talk some sense into him?"
"Dragonborn," and that was Frea, coming to stand behind him, a hand on his shoulder and some Illusion spell trickling out of her fingers. "My village is in trouble. Miraak's enslaving my people, and it won't stop with Solstheim. If you are truly of the dragon blood, you are the only one strong enough to stop this. Please, Cicero. If you know anything about that book, anything at all, please tell us. We need to know what it is to have any hope of stopping Miraak."
Cicero had stopped struggling under the Calm spell's influence, but he still looked petrified.
"It is a Black Book of Hermaeus Mora," Cicero whispered. Frea let him go, horrified.
"Aie! Herma Mora? Then it is worse than I thought. And yet not surprising. But... how did you know?"
"Yes, Cicero, how did you know?" Aela asked, letting him go and moving to stand in the doorway to block any further attempt to flee. "You don't strike me as the scholarly type, and the Brotherhood don't serve Mora."
"We found one," Cicero whispered, looking utterly defeated and wretched. "Calixto and Cicero, we were exploring the mine in Raven Rock and there was one down there. Calixto is a scholar and a mage, he recognised it and told poor Cicero what it was. So... so we read it and we ended up in Mora's realm in Oblivion, Apocrypha! We were lost and we didn't know how to get back, we had to explore until we found the book to take us back! And... and there were monsters, strong monsters, stronger than poor Cicero and he nearly died, but Calixto saved him and got him home. And Mora was there and he knew Cicero was Dragonborn and thanked Calixto for bringing him one! Cicero doesn't want to go back, Cicero is scared Mora might decide to keep him!"
Ria had taken him into her arms as he'd gasped out the story, stroking his hair as he snuggled against her, clearly trembling. Poor thing, he seemed traumatised. Everyone had their weaknesses, and Cicero's was clearly eldritch abominations from Mora's realm of Oblivion. As weaknesses went, it would be hard to find anyone who wasn't scared of those.
"What do we do?" Ria asked, feeling helpless. "Sounds like anyone who reads it gets sucked into Oblivion."
"No wonder that one's here then," said Frea, eyeing the book warily. "That must be how he did it, how he got away from the Guardian. He fled down here and used the book to escape to Apocrypha and he's been hiding all this time. Time doesn't flow there like it does here, he wouldn't have aged."
"So in order to find and kill Miraak, Cicero's going to have to read that book and follow after him," said Aela, face falling as she took one look at Cicero, shaking and sobbing in Ria's arms and realised he was in no shape to be fighting anything. Their quarry was hiding in the one place their fearless Dragonborn assassin was scared to go. Cicero knew it too, which was why he clung on to Ria tighter.
"Cicero can't – I can't!" he wailed. "Cicero is sorry! Cicero has failed the Listener, Mother, dear sweet Muiri and Argis, Eola, Madanach, Kodlak, everyone! Cicero... Cicero can't kill Miraak. Cicero has failed his contract."
"You can't have failed it, you haven't even tried it!" Aela snapped, sympathetic as always. "Come on, Cicero, they attacked Jorrvaskr, tried to kill your father! They'll do it again if you don't stop this. Come on, Shield-Brother, where's your courage?"
Cicero didn't say anything, just whimpering piteously. Well, if he wouldn't do it, someone would have to.
"It's all right, he doesn't have to do it if he doesn't want to," said Ria gently. "We can't force him, it wouldn't be right. It's OK, Cicero, you can wait here. I'll go."
"WHAT?" Cicero pulled back out of Ria's arms, appalled. "Certainly not! Sweet Ria isn't going! Sweet Ria would be killed on the spot! Ria is no match for Miraak! Ria would be brutally killed and then Cicero would have to break the news to Vilkas, who would likely rip poor Cicero's arms off and beat him to death with them, especially when he found out you only went because Cicero was afraid!"
"I'm not a weakling!" Ria protested, although she had to admit Miraak probably was a bit beyond her.
"Ria isn't going," Cicero hissed, glaring at her, and Ria took a step backwards from the fury in those dark eyes of his. Cicero turned from her to Frea.
"You! Skaal mage! You were casting Illusion spells on Cicero just now!"
"Yes, you looked upset, should I not have?" Frea asked nervously.
"No! I mean, yes! I mean, do it again!" Cicero cried. "Cast the Courage one on poor Cicero!"
Frea nodded and cast it on him. Cicero writhed in the magic, giggling to himself.
"Yes, yes, that is much better!" he purred, skipping about on the spot. "Do not fear, dear friends. Cicero shall travel into Apocrypha, find Miraak and stab him to death, then return to tell you all the story!" He danced over to the book and flung it open, starting to read. As he did, tentacles shot out from it, black and viscous in the grotesque green glow of the book's pages, wrapping around Cicero's neck and drawing him in. Cicero's body went transparent as his mind vanished off to Apocrypha.
"What has he done?" Frea gasped. "Is he insane?"
"Yes," said Aela softly, looking Cicero's half-there form over. "But that was something even for him."
"He's not crazy," Ria whispered. "Well, he is, but that's not why he did it. He's brave. He's really really brave."
"If he comes back out of this one intact, he will be a hero to the Skaal forever," said Frea.
If he came back out of this one intact, he'd be a pretty big hero in Jorrvaskr as well. But it was a very big if.
Cicero materialised in Apocrypha, familiar green sky above him, gloopy ocean beneath, separated from him by a thin metal grille. Strange buildings towered around him, and in front of him... In front of him, flanked by two Seekers, was a man in robes, staring off into the distance, watching a strange dragon wheeling in the sky. Miraak.
Cicero promptly dropped into a sneaking pose, slowly drawing his dagger. Miraak hadn't even noticed Cicero was there yet. Could it really be this easy? Sneaking and stabbing, the old way – the good way. The best way. Ebony dagger in hand, Cicero crept forward.
He'd gone about two steps when Miraak started and turned round, staff raised. His face was hidden by a gleaming Dragon Priest mask shaped a bit like a Seeker's face, and he took one look at Cicero and wove his staff.
Tentacles sprang up through the grille, one around each wrist, one around each leg and one sliding round Cicero's neck, all hauling him to his knees as his dagger went skittering across the floor. Miraak picked it up, admiring it and then pocketed it.
Cicero yelped as he struggled in the tentacles' grasp, but he was very firmly held. Not his dagger, his favourite dagger, he'd had that for years, it had been a present! A bonus! A gift from a very satisfied client! He'd lost count of the number of stabbings he'd carried out with it. It was an old and dear friend, a friend that had stayed when everyone else had died or left... and Miraak had just taken it.
"Thieving defiler, that is my knife!" Cicero howled, struggling to free himself, but the tentacles only tightened their grip.
"Yes, and you would have planted it in me if you could," Miraak purred, and this was bad, this was very bad indeed. No one had warned him of this. No one had warned poor, trapped Cicero that Miraak would be tall and broad-shouldered and that his voice would flow into Cicero's ears like warm honey. Cicero could feel his cock spring into life, hard and ready and wanting and oh Sithis, this was about as bad as it could get. He was tied up, helpless, and a man with a voice that could lead an Aedra to sin was advancing on him. Cicero had had an awful lot of fantasies that started off just like this... but the reality was something else.
"So you're the latest Dragonborn," Miraak said, sounding a mix of impressed and amused. "Finally, something interesting – you have no idea how dull this place can get after a few centuries. I was hoping Talos or Reman might have proven a worthy diversion, but alas they were both obsessed with their Empires. You however... you're not the ambitious type at all, are you? You prefer the shadows. You like being unnoticed and out of the way... and you definitely like someone else in charge, don't you?"
Cicero strained at the tentacles, to no avail, wishing the erection in his underpants would go away and his cock would just ishut up. /i He'd come here to kill Miraak not have sex with him!
"Yes, you killed Alduin," Miraak purred. "But not because it was the right thing to do, or because you wanted his power for yourself. No, you did it because your wife wanted you to. How very sweet." He stepped closer, leaning down and trailing a gloved finger along Cicero's jaw, forcing him to look up.
"You're strong, no doubt about it," Miraak continued, that cold mask staring down at Cicero, and Sithis that just made it sexier, utterly unmoving features while Cicero whimpered and couldn't help himself. Miraak glanced down and clearly had noticed Cicero's raging erection. "But not strong enough," Miraak gloated. "You won't stop me. You don't even want to stop me. You want me to triumph, you want me strong... you want me."
"Never," Cicero gasped, willing his cock to go to sleep now please. "I'm going to kill you, Miraak. I'm going to kill you and I'm going to enjoy it."
Miraak actually did laugh at that. "Are you now, Ziizahro? That remains to be seen. But I do know what is definitely going to happen right now. I'm going to fuck you, and you're going to love it."
Cicero hissed, trying to fight the tentacles, but they just tightened their grip, the one around his neck cool and clammy and slowly throttling him and Cicero couldn't breathe, his vision going dark – and then it relaxed and he could breathe again, and Sithis help him, he'd just felt his cock twitch at the mere idea of being so helpless he couldn't even breathe without Miraak's permission.
Miraak flicked his staff again and two more tentacles sprouted up, both slithering up his legs, one caressing his throbbing genitals and the other sliding along the curve of his arse. Both got as far as his waist before halting at the waistband of his armour.
"Mmm, that is very tight armour," Miraak purred. "It suits you, but it must surely be a little uncomfortable, especially in your... current state." To prove his point, he reached down, unlaced Cicero's crotch and loosened the leather, freeing Cicero's cock and also loosening the armour sufficiently for the tentacles to advance. One lashed itself around his cock, tightening so hard it made Cicero sob and Sithis, oh Sithis, it hurt, it hurt, there was something in the oil that was seeping into his skin, poisoning him or drugging him or something, and then the other tentacle slid down the back of his trousers and in between his buttocks, rubbing gently at his hole.
"Oh gods," Cicero gasped, terrified and aroused and furious all at once, and he didn't want this, he didn't, he didn't, he didn't, it was horrible and degrading and humiliating but that was just making him hornier.
"Like it, do you?" Miraak laughed. "I thought so. Beg for it, Ziizahro. Beg for it and I'll give you more."
No more... no more, please... "Please," Cicero heard himself say, sobbing as the tentacles held him, cock throbbing with need, and Miraak laughed.
"Fabulous, this is utterly fabulous," Miraak murmured, flicking his staff again and the tentacle nudging at Cicero's hole pushed forward and slid inside, pulsing and throbbing and stretching, and Cicero couldn't help it, he was thrashing, howling, sobbing, pleading, needing something, needing to come, needing the release. Needing Delphine. Sithis, Delphine, his Listener, his wife, his lover, domme, everything, he needed her, needed her to cup his face and tell him what a good boy he was, how proud she was of him for being able to take the pain and punishment and how good he looked on his knees.
Delphine... sweet Delphine, I love you, I'm sorry...
"Ah, you're too perfect to kill," Miraak was gasping, his own breath ragged now as he reached for the crotch of his robes. "I think I'll keep you. When I come back to Tamriel, I think I'll keep you as my little pet, my little court jester. You'd like that, wouldn't you? No responsibilities, no worries, no being sent on impossible quests. Just being pampered and indulged and used and fucked and teased and possessed for the rest of your life. How does that sound, hmm?"
Cicero moaned, as the tentacle in his backside seemed to actually widen if that were possible, and he could feel himself shaking as Miraak's hand gripped his jaw, Miraak's other hand unlacing his own robes, and then Miraak's cock was there, strong and hard and large, just the way Cicero liked them, and Cicero could only whimper. Then Miraak's cock was at his lips and Cicero couldn't resist as it slid into his mouth, Miraak moaning as he sunk into Cicero, fingers running through Cicero's hair as he began to fuck Cicero's mouth, and Cicero sobbed, knew he was crying at the hurt and humiliation and need, but helpless to stop, helpless to do anything but suck on Miraak's cock, wishing it was Delphine wearing a strap-on and Eola, sweet, perverted, filthy Eola with her hand up his backside, the two of them using him and abusing him and reducing him to this, not Miraak and whatever tentacled thing was currently exploring his arse.
Miraak was thrusting harder and faster, speeding up and then a flick of the staff and the tentacle pinioning his cock began shuffling along it, skilfully pleasuring him and Miraak was hissing "yes, yes, come for me, Ziizahro, yes," and Cicero sobbed and struggled and thrusted into the tentacle and then came, seed spurting on to the grille, sinking into the ooze and narrowly missing Miraak's boots. Miraak didn't seem to notice or even care, just grabbing Cicero's head and thrusting into Cicero's mouth, coming with a primal roar as his seed shot out and down Cicero's throat, Cicero grimacing as he was forced to swallow it. Finally Miraak withdrew, tucking himself away and stepping back, flicking his staff and watching as Cicero slumped to the floor, boneless and unmoving.
"Yes, Ziizahro, you'll do," Miraak gasped. "I look forward to claiming the world and you, and when I have my full power, be sure you'll be at my side, chained and ready and I will claim more than just your mouth. Until then..." Miraak stepped away as a dragon that looked like a cross between dragon and lurker landed, ready to transport Miraak away.
"Send him back," Miraak ordered as he boarded the dragon. "He can await my return with the rest of Tamriel."
As the Seekers advanced, blasting Cicero with magic, making him scream in pain, powerless to even move, Cicero could only wail at Miraak's retreating form, and whether it was in fury for using him or in despair at being abandoned, not even Cicero could tell.
A/N: Oh gods, I think I broke Cicero. :(
*snuggles poor Cicero* I'm so sorry, sweetie. *snuggles him harder* You get to stab him eventually, don't worry. (What do you mean, you're not sure if you want to now?)