"Ah, there you are, my dear, I was just wondering where you were, I've found this ancient list of dragon-" Esbern stopped midsentence at the sight before him. Delphine was dressed in her simple innkeeper dress, hair unbound, lying back in Cicero's arms as he carried her along the corridor.

"Hello Esbern," she purred, a rather triumphant smile on her face. Esbern stared at her neck and chest, both lavishly decorated with lurid purple bruises.

"What in Oblivion happened to you?" Esbern asked, before glaring at Cicero. Cicero shut his eyes and looked away guiltily.

"Oh you don't want to know," Delphine murmured, still a little breathless. "Esbern, why don't you go and spend some time in the library for a bit? I need to address the others."

"Like that?" Esbern asked, raising an eyebrow. "Do you normally tumble from bed into addressing your underlings?"

"It's addressing one underling that got her into this state in the first place," Cicero muttered.

"Quiet," said Delphine. "You've done your part, my dear. Now I need to brief the others. Esbern, best make yourself scarce."

Esbern had no problems whatsoever with that. Frankly, he didn't want to know.

"Hey, Delphine!" Eola called as they emerged into the main hall. "Look at me, I have Shrouded Armour!" It was true, she was wearing Shrouded Armour from the head down, and her Helmet of the Old Gods on her head. "Don't I look sweet- ohhh." She stopped dead, took one look at Delphine and promptly sank into a chair, lost for words.

"Aventus. Your room. Now," said Calixto, giving the boy a little nudge.

"Why's Cicero carrying her, is she tired?" Aventus asked, frowning. "And what's with the bruises, is she ill?"

"Yes, but she'll be fine," Calixto lied, having a horrible feeling that no one had ever told the boy about... certain things and equally sure that it might well be him having to have that conversation in the not too distant future. "Go. I think our Listener wishes to hold a business meeting."

"Oh. Business," Aventus grinned. "Sure. I get it." Grinning, he ran off, leaving the adults alone.

"Sweet Sithis," Aranea murmured, watching as Cicero lowered Delphine gently into her chair at the head of the table and took a seat at her right hand side, head bowed and looking more wretched than she'd ever seen him. "Delphine, what happened?"

"Exactly what I wanted to happen," Delphine smiled, her eyes hazy. "Cicero is such a good boy sometimes."

"I bet he is," Eola whispered, still staring at her as if in a trance.

Sapphire took a seat next to Aranea. "'Nea, didn't you tell me it was usually Cicero prancing around the place and flaunting his love bites?"

Aranea nodded. "Normally, yes. I'd... not thought Delphine was the type to go in for the, er, rougher end of things."

"I'm not," said Delphine, gingerly pulling herself into an upright position. "But just this once, I needed to look... ravaged."

"Oh, you got that right," said Eola vaguely, reaching for a nearby glass of juniper juice.

"Mission accomplished," said Calixto. "But if you don't mind my asking... why?"

"I need to look weak, unthreatening and a victim," said Delphine calmly. "I know, it takes some doing." Next to her, Cicero let out a sob. Delphine stroked his arm in an effort to soothe him.

"You did well, my dear. I won't make you do it again, don't worry. If it makes you feel any better, I'll be sure to thrash you soundly after this is all done."

Cicero laughed nervously. "Not the point," he whispered. Eola finally tore her eyes away from Delphine to look at Cicero.

"Champ, you look awful, are you alright?" she asked.

"No," said Cicero sadly. "Sister, we can talk later. Hear the Listener out."

Silence fell as four assassins listened intently, all curious.

"Astrid knows."

Still silence, but faces had hardened in response. Cicero in particular looked more coldly furious than anyone except Delphine had ever seen him.

"You all have Shrouded gear. That's good," Delphine noted, nodding in approval at the outfits. "Astrid's performed the Sacrament. She wants to meet us – well, me anyway – at Cracked Tusk Keep."

"I know it," said Sapphire grimly. "It's about twenty minutes from their Sanctuary. A mini Orc stronghold, but we tolerated it. They weren't bad neighbours, kept themselves to themselves. Well, guess they don't any more."

"So what are we doing?" Aranea asked. "Meeting them or fighting?"

"Meeting them. Or at least, I am," said Delphine. "Of course, she fully intends to take me prisoner in the hope I'll betray you all in exchange for my life, so she can claim the Night Mother and get the contracts. Obviously that's not going to happen, but I intend to encourage her in this belief right up until it becomes apparent it's not her who'll be giving orders to me. Hence the need to look helpless and abused."

"Delphine plans to walk unarmed and unarmoured right into the blasphemer's trap!" Cicero burst out. "With not even her Cicero at her side to guard her. Listener, Listener, is there no other way?"

"No," said Delphine gently. "But don't worry. You won't be far away. In fact, you're crucial to this whole thing working."

Cicero perked up a little at that. "Really? Is there sneaking and stabbing to be done? Ooh! You wish Cicero to sneak up on them and stab Astrid while you distract her! Or did you merely want me to take a few others out while you fight Astrid?"

"In a way," Delphine grinned. "You'll need to do plenty of sneaking, but hopefully no stabbing. You do however get to threaten with a knife and generally look insane and frightening. Think you can manage that?"

Cicero squealed, clapping his hands in delight. "Ooh yes, Listener! Cicero can manage that quite well indeed."

"Excellent," said Delphine, turning to Sapphire. "Now, Sapphire, you say you know the passphrase to their Sanctuary, right? And Eola, think your father will mind lending us a few people?"

"I'm sure he'd love to," said Eola.

"Good. Also, this is a bit of a long shot, but I don't suppose there's any old Hagraven techniques for binding werewolves into their human form? I've heard stories of such a thing being possible but never seen it done."

"It's possible," said Eola thoughtfully. "Not pleasant for the poor wolfie, but it's possible. Ma had something for that very purpose – saw her use it on someone once. I can see if it's still in her things?"

"You do that. We'll need it. Alright folks, gather round. This is what we're going to do..."

"Are you alright?"

Eola's voice was kind, kind and gentle, too kind and gentle for poor Cicero who deep down was anything but, he knew that.

Eola sat down next to him. He'd left Delphine in the main room to carry on with the planning and discussions and stepped outside to get some air. Now Cicero was crouched on the temple steps, staring out at the view over the Reach.

"Does Cicero look it to you?" Cicero asked, misery writ large all over his face. Eola slipped her arms around him, letting him rest his head on her shoulder.

"Champ, she's fine. Really. She's not injured, she's not even seriously hurt, and she'd clearly had one daedra of an orgasm not long prior. Looks like whatever happened, she was in total control the entire time."

"Cicero wasn't," he whispered. Eola stroked his hair, beginning to guess what was bothering him.

"You didn't like doing it? Or... you did, didn't you? You enjoyed hurting her and now you can't face yourself or her."

Cicero nodded, tear rolling down his cheek. "Never again," he whispered. "Many years ago, back in Bruma, Cicero was a charming and handsome young man, and never lacked for company if he wished it. But he never loved any of them, no, and so he used to indulge in the most vile cruelties with the women he bedded. He was... he was not a good man, sister. Some say he still isn't, but he has some principles these days. Bruma Sanctuary was destroyed and Cicero still wonders if perhaps the townsfolk might not have let it happen if Cicero had not debased so many of their daughters. He could not live with the guilt, and when he went to Cheydinhal and met sweet Andronica, he swore to change his ways. He let her use him, treat him as he'd treated others. He surrendered unto her and he knew peace at last. Knew freedom from guilt. He was happy, so very happy, and he fell in love and became happier still. Then he lost it all again. Now he has Delphine and he thought... he thought he was safe forever. Even with the dragon souls consuming him from within, he thought that particular monster was safe. That he did not need to worry. That his beautiful Listener would keep him on a tight leash. Now..."

"She let you off the leash," said Eola, understanding. "Namira's mercy, Cicero. No wonder you're scared. Have you told her any of this?"

Cicero shook his head. "It would distract her. Upset her. She needs to be focused. A distracted Listener is a dead Listener, especially outside a Sanctuary, defenceless, without Cicero at her side. Cicero cannot, Eola. Not now."

"All right," said Eola gently. "But after we've sorted things out with the Falkreath Sanctuary, you tell her, right? You tell her what you told me, and you tell her you're never hurting her again, no matter how much she asks. She wants to see your inner psychopath let loose, we'll lure a stranger back here for you both to play with. If we get lucky, maybe we'll even find someone who's into that sort of thing who thinks jesters are hot, and gets off on being watched by terrifying older women."

Cicero did laugh at that, and next thing she knew, she was being squeezed to within an inch of her life. Cicero planted a big, wet kiss on her cheek, and let her go, beaming at her.

"See, Cicero knew you would be able to help!" he giggled, squeezing her hand. "Cicero is so very glad he has dear Eola for a sister. She understands him!"

"Well, we're not so different, you and I," said Eola. "Hey, Sapphire says she's done with your armour. Want to give it a go?"

Cicero squealed and leapt to his feet, clapping his hands in delight. Eola took him by the hand and led him inside to see Sapphire's creation.

Said creation was laid out on a table in Sapphire's workroom next door to the armoury. Cicero bounced in, eager to see what she'd made him, and stopped dead in his tracks. It wasn't Shrouded Armour.

"I thought I'd do something different for you," said Sapphire, tracing admiring hands over its leather surface. "You like?"

Cicero stared at it, lost for words. Black leather, padding at the shoulders, dragonscales on the sleeves and on the black leather trousers that went with it, and from the look of it, dragonscales were sewn into the chest and back as well, hidden behind the red lining. Twin tails akin to the ones on his jester shirt that hung down from the waist, and fastenings up the front. A red handprint painted on the front, and as Sapphire turned it over, the Akaviri Dragonborn symbol in red leather sewed on to the back. The gloves and boots looked more like the standard shrouded set, but the colours had been reversed – what was normally black was now red, and vice versa.

Eola nudged him in the side. "Well, say something! We put a lot of work into this. Well, Sapphire did, I was more of a design consultant."

"The Dragonborn symbol was her idea," said Sapphire. "Also the idea of using different enchantments. Sure, the boots still have a muffle spell on them, and the gloves still do the whole backstab thing, but we put fire resistance on the armour, not poison. Haven't bothered doing headgear, but your hat'll go nicely with it, we think."

Cicero stared it in longing, running his fingers along the sleeve. "Cicero does not know what to say," he whispered, tears rolling down his cheeks. "It's beautiful! He does not deserve this!"

"Try it on, try it on!" Eola urged him. Cicero promptly grabbed the armour and disappeared behind a nearby Akaviri screen set up for this very purpose. A few minutes later, he emerged, brushing himself down as he adjusted the fit a little.

Sapphire nodded, impressed with her handiwork. "Oh yes. Yes, that'll do nicely. What do you think, Cicero?"

Cicero twirled around, watching the tails swirl, and then back again. An experimental little dance followed, then the drawing of the daggers and a few stabbing, slashing and pouncing moves. It ended with Cicero skidding to his knees, blades raised as he slid to a halt at Eola's feet. He grinned at her, winked and slid both daggers back into their sheaths before leaping to his feet.

"Well Eola, I think he likes it," said Sapphire, pleased. "Reckon it suits him?"

"I... yeah," said Eola, lost for words. "Yeah, absolutely. You go, Dragonborn." She knew it'd be fairly tight-fitting, but she'd not quite expected it to cling as much as it did.

"You are both wonderful," said Cicero, practically glowing with delight. "This... this is the best armour Cicero has ever worn. No one will see or hear me coming, and then Cicero shall stab stab stab stab stab! Stab them all!" He skipped over to Sapphire and hugged her fiercely.

"Talented Sapphire is a very dear sister and friend, and Cicero shall never call her a thief again, not unless he is complimenting the way she emptied someone's pockets or got a lock open." He let her go and skipped over to Eola, who still wasn't quite over the way Cicero moved in that stuff.

"Thank you," was all he said as he pulled her into his arms. "For everything. Cicero is not sure what he would do without his dear sister and best friend. There, Cicero does not say it often, but you are."

Eola hugged him back, tears in her eyes. "Come on, Jester. Let's show you off to Delphine." She took his hand and led him out of the room.

Sapphire cleared her remaining work tools away and followed them out. Somehow, she had a feeling that Eola's love life was about to get as tangled as her own.

One moment, Delphine had been quietly sketching out a plan of attack based on the various plans Sapphire had drawn for her of Falkreath Sanctuary and environs. The next minute they'd been swept aside and a vision of death in black leather and a jester hat was draping itself across the table.

"Cicero has new armour," said Cicero, grinning. "Does my Listener like it?"

Delphine tried very hard to think of some words that actually made coherent sense, but none were coming to mind.

"Would my Listener like to see the back as well?" Cicero continued, clearly enjoying her reaction. "Eola had Sapphire put the Akaviri symbol for Dragonborn on the back. It's very nice. Feels... delightful."

"Oh dear Sithis, no, do not turn around, I need to get work done," said Delphine faintly. The last thing she needed was for Cicero to start showing off his backside in that getup. Looking at his front was bad enough. "Are those... dragonscales sewn into it?"

Cicero nodded, still grinning. "Why yes, Delphine, how perceptive of you! Sapphire sewed them in so I would have extra protection. So thoughtful."

Delphine traced his chest, somehow resisting the urge to pull him into her arms and run her hands all over him, breathing in him in. As it is, he was close enough that she could smell the leather.

"I wanted them to keep you safe and not make you look like a sex object," said Delphine. "Looks like they've done both."

Cicero shivered, delighted. "Is my Listener pleased?"

"Yes. Very. I need to keep my hands off you though. Need to prepare for tomorrow night's virtuoso performance as Helpless Innkeeper Taken Captive by Cruel and Insane Dark Brotherhood. I can't really get in the mood for that if I end up spending all my time ravishing a leather-clad Dragonborn now, can I?"

Cicero's grin faded. "You are still intent on this fool's plan then. When even the Fool himself cannot think it a good idea."

"It's the only way, Cicero," said Delphine softly, stroking his cheek. Cicero reached up and took her hand away, kissing her fingertips.

"Cicero will go along with it then. But he does not like it." He was gazing into her eyes now, not the seething rage of that morning, but just as intense. "Cicero needs you too, pretty Listener. Not just because the Brotherhood needs a Listener either." His other hand was sliding around the back of her head, fingers entwining through her hair, bringing her forward. "Cicero loves you, sweetest Delphine. He begs you, take care. Come back to him safely, if you must persevere with this insanity. Only come back safe."

"Yes," Delphine whispered, heart racing and her mind gone, utterly gone, melting as he'd said he loved her. Not that she hadn't guessed but to hear him say it out loud, and he was close to her, so close now and her lips parted as his mouth met hers. She couldn't stop herself moaning, letting go of his hand so she could run it across his thigh and round to squeeze his arse. Cicero made a happy growling noise in the back of his throat and Delphine broke the kiss before things got any more heated.

"I really do have work to do," she gasped. "And you need to practice a few moves of your own, remember."

Cicero pouted but nodded assent. Delphine smiled, deciding there was something she could do at least.

"This all reminds me, I have something for you. We found it in the armoury. I think you should have it."

"Oooh! A present! For poor Cicero?" Cicero leapt off the table, dancing with excitement. "Two presents in one day, Cicero can hardly contain himself! It's not even his birthday."

"When is your birthday anyway?" Delphine asked, taking his hand. "And just how old are you exactly? I want to know the size of the cradle I'm robbing."

Cicero had to think about that one. "Ooh. Good question. Cicero is not sure. Some time in Sun's Dawn, he thinks, but he doesn't remember when. He knows he was 15 when the Brotherhood recruited him, and 25 when he arrived in Cheydinhal, and it was 188 when he became Keeper, so he thinks he may be forty? Perhaps?"

"Forty. Hmm. Not so bad. Only fifteen years younger than me, you're not quite young enough to be my son. That's something."

"Cicero had not noticed any age gap," said Cicero, deploying the charm that had been the bane of Bruma's womenfolk back in his younger days. "Delphine looks as young and beautiful as a woman half the age she says she is."

"Oh, you're such a flirt," Delphine grinned. "Come on, come see this."

She led him into a small side-room. Blades armour and weapons decorated the room, and on the main table lay a dai-katana, glowing faintly with an enchantment that looked like it might be a shock enchantment of some sort to Cicero's novice eyes.

Delphine lifted it off the table and handed it over. "For you, Dragonborn. Esbern thinks it might just be the legendary dragonslaying blade Dragonbane. Reman Cyrodiil wielded it once. Now, well, we think it should be yours. What do you think?"

Cicero took it off her, admiring the way it felt and the lightning sparking along the blade. "This... for me? Delphine, you shouldn't."

"Why not? Dragonbane for the Dragonborn. I can't think of anyone who deserves it more. Shocks anyone you hit with it, but it's especially potent against dragons. I want you to have it. I already have a katana."

Cicero fastened the scabbard to his waist and then stepped out into the main hallway, experimenting with a few moves. It was a sight to behold, Cicero twisting this way and that, Dragonbane slicing through the air, assassin and blade a blur of black, red and purple sparks. Cicero ended by aiming the sword at the candelabra on the table, slicing through the wicks of the candles to extinguish the flames and leaving the wax untouched.

"Oh now, that's just showing off," Eola commented from her seat at the table where she'd been watching all this. From the gallery above Alduin's Wall where the rest of the Brotherhood and guests had been watching, applause broke out. Cicero sheathed Dragonbane and swept a deep bow at his audience.

"Well done, Dragonborn," Esbern called out. "You're a joy to watch with that blade, although less said about how you got those skills the better."

"That was amazing," Aventus gasped, unable to take his eyes off Cicero. "Divines, I want to be able to do that when I'm older. I wanna be just like you, Cicero."

"Oh sweet Azura, no," Aranea couldn't restrain herself from saying. She winced a little at the boy's pout, but fortunately Calixto was on hand to rescue the situation.

"What my esteemed sister means is that rather than try and be a second Cicero, it would be far better to be the very best Aventus Aretino. Certainly I would urge you not to copy his dress sense – we don't need two jesters."

Aventus pouted at this but subsided. Delphine, feeling rather proud, called them all to attention.

"Well. Now that our Dragonborn has his new sword and new armour, may I remind you all we have an operation to prepare for tomorrow night? Come on, you all have things to do, let's get to it."

The Brotherhood dispersed to prepare. Cicero was last to leave. As he did, he shot one last look over his shoulder at Delphine.

"Stay safe, Listener," was all he said out loud, but the darkness in his eyes spoke volumes about the likely consequences if this failed to happen. Then he too was gone, leaving Delphine watching where he'd been.

"You too, Keeper," Delphine whispered. It wasn't her own safety she was worried about. It was his. Always his.

Chapter End Notes

I had a hankering to see Cicero in a trench coat. This was the nearest I could get. A woman can have her fantasies, right?