A/N: Have fun with this one (HeheHEHHH! :})

As a general announcement, I have started another TES fan fiction called 'Foolish Mortal'. For those interested, it is a romance between a Dremora lord (OOHHH! AHHH!) and a Dunmer womer. Take a look.

Thank you again to all of my reviewers, especially my most loyal friends Nalledia and Yumeshojo! You guys are awesome and encourage me so much! :)

-Liliedove

Madrale slowly opened her eyes. She winced at the sudden brightness. Gingerly, she propped herself up with an arm, looking down at the floor as she painfully opened and closed her eyes in an attempt to adjust. She then noticed that her ears were ringing. She groaned, massaging her face with a hand. She ached all over her body, from what she had no idea. She did the best she could to process her thoughts, but kept drawing blanks. What was happening to her? As her eyes became comfortable with the lighting, she took in her surroundings. She was in a room, a bedroom to be exact: there was a large, fur covered bed behind her. She was on the floor, a warm, wooden floor... There was also a small fire place an arm's reach away. Was that where the light was coming from? But there was barely any fuel left for it to burn off of, and it was so small, as if it had been burning for many hours... Why was it so bright then? That didn't make sense. She held her head again, feeling rather nauseated. Oh no. It finally registered in her mind: she had been drunk the night before.

Then there came a groan, which sounded as if a bear had roared right into her hear, causing her to jump in her skin. Ugh! She pressed the palms of her hands against her ears, which rang louder for a moment. She then realized an arm lay across her lap, as if it were once wrapped around something but was now laying limply in place. She furrowed her brow as she looked to find Cicero up against her side, the arm being his own. Picking his hand up by the sleeve, she placed it beside his body on the floor; though that didn't do much good, since he was practically sticking to her skin. The action stirred him from his sleep, as he then pulled his hands beneath his belly to lift himself from the floor. He looked around, a dazed look on his face. He smacked his lips together before sinking back onto the floor.

"Make the accursed light go away!" He mumbled as he lay his head against the wood, his arms encircling his head.

"The fire isn't really that bright." She replied, then leaning against the back of the bed. Continuing to take in the contents of the room, she tried to piece things together. They were in Riften for a reason... Svenja! She was going into the Ratway! What ever happened? All could be lost if they didn't hurry: how could they have fallen asleep? She quickly stood to her feet, her intentions being to get out of wherever they were as fast as they could. However, as soon as she stood she made her way down again: it felt as though a thousand hammers all smashed together against her head! She growled, sitting on the bed frame.

Cicero turned over onto his back, whimpering again at the light. "What's wrong, Listener? Is something troubling you?"

Before she was allowed to speak again, the bedroom door creaked open. A face cautiously inched its way into the room, as if alert for danger. As soon as he lay eyes on them, however, he gave a sigh of relief, then opening the door fully. "You're awake I see." Now that she could get a better look at him, Madrale realized that the hooded man was a priest. He slowly entered the room, glancing around as if to check and see if anything were amiss. He looked at them again, expecting one to say something, but when he was simply greeted with silence he turned to look at the fireplace instead. "I apologize for the poor lighting, and surely it's cold in here now."

He approached it, taking some of the spare logs from the hearth and putting them into the fire. "There, that should warm the place. When I was told my room was in use, I didn't want to disturb you."

"Your room?" Madrale looked around once more.

Cicero, now fully awake, sat cross legged as he twisted a finger in his ear. "Everything is too loud." He muttered.

The priest stood, smiling broadly at them. "Well, now that you are both awake I think it is high time you eat something! We set some breakfast aside for you, but I'm afraid it will be cold now... But it's almost time for our mid-day meals! You can join me and the others at the table, if you wish." He made his way to the door. Madrale brought herself to her feet, not wanting to lose sight of the priest.

"Cicero, come." She said as she reached the door. Glancing back at him, she drew her head back as she watched him stand. "And put your pants back on while you're at it."

He looked down to see that beyond his curiass were bare legs. He crooked his head to the side. "Cicero doesn't remember losing his pants. Where could they be now?" He then began looking about the room, taking a minute before finding them. "Oh! Here they are! And my greaves as well!" He said barely above a whisper. "And here's your things too! All in a nice little pile! Only you aren't missing your pants... You're fully dressed. Strange, did Cicero go to relieve himself in the night and forget to put them back on? I can't remember... At least nothing silly of mine was showing, thanks be to Mother and this armor I've still got on! A little bit shorter, and whoops! Now that would be embarrassing.! Haha, don't you think?"He gave a lazy half smile, which was returned with a dull look. "Well someone's grouchy today." He muttered as he put his foot through one of the pant legs.

"Hurry up, we need to figure out where we are, and where Svenja is." She said as she crossed her arms.

"SVENJA?! Oh YES! The TRAITOR! I- urgh!" He held his head, pained by the volume of his own voice. Madrale sighed, then leaving. Cicero began to panic, hobbling as he attempted to put his greaves back on. "Wait, Madrale WAIT!"

Madrale found that there were two other priests who were now gathered with the one who spoke to them moments before, some giving them nervous glances as they spoke in low voices. There was an altar, and a couple rows of pews. Flowers were set in vases here and there, and heavy incense was in the air. She recognized the statue of the goddess on the altar, but something didn't quite register in her mind. It was clear to her now that she must have been drunk the night before, Cicero as well. She knew they had come to Riften to find Svenja, but that was all she could recall. And by Sithis, what in Oblivion were they doing in a temple? She could then hear Cicero trip out of the room they were in, still bending over to buckle things.

The conversation between the priests came to an end, and they simply looked at them helplessly. Then, one of them, a dunmer womer, approached them with a smile gracing her face. "Why, isn't it our lovely new couple! Did you two enjoy the pleasures of love and unity?" The look on Madrale's face was momentarily blank, and then became one of confusion. She looked at Cicero, who looked back at her with the same expression. The priestess looked between them for another moment, then biting her lip. "Come now," she said, beckoning them to follow her. "We have some bread you can eat, and some water: you must be thirsty." She sat them at a small table in the corner, then fetching a pitcher.

"Wait," Madrale began. "What do you mean?"

The womer gave another fake smile as she poured water into their cups as they sat down. Immediately they both picked up their cups, realizing they were completely parched. "Your marriage, of course! All praise be to our wonderful Mara! What else could I mean? Would you like a piece of bread? There is still a warm, freshly baked loaf from this morning! I kept it on the mantel for you."

Madrale glanced over at Cicero again, seeing his ungloved hand laying against the edge of the table. Horrified, she looked at her own bare hands, panic struck: there were matching rings on their fingers. Cicero began to piece things together as well, his eyes now wide in shock. He looked from his hand to Madrale's pale face, moving his lips but not letting out a sound. Madrale grabbed the priestess's wrists, which made the womer recoil. "I think there's been a mistake!"

"Calm down now, everything is okay." She replied, putting a hand on top of hers.

Madrale knocked it off, now puffing out her chest as she half stood from her seat. "NO, everything is NOT okay! What is the MEANING OF THIS? I want ANSWERS! NOW."

"Okay, okay! Settle down, I can't answer your questions if you kill me!" She shrieked, taking another step away from the table. The two priests watched from a distance, then talking to one another in low, frantic voices. One made his way towards the door.

"Dinya," the other called. She looked at them, then shaking her head.

"No, wait a moment! I can handle this, lets not get the Imperials involved." She replied, then glancing back at their two guests. Cicero then stiffened, looking around frantically.

"Imperials?! WHERE?" Cicero demanded, now standing with his dagger in hand. Madrale stood as well, reaching an arm over the table.

"Cicero, stop! We need answers!" She stated, a stern look on her face. Cicero looked at her, and then the hand on his arm. He flinched away from it slightly, sheathing his dagger. As he sat again, he mused himself with anything in the room, that is, except for her. She didn't mind this, for she herself was having a hard time looking at him. She was petrified by all the possible things that could have happened the night before. Had they...? She could feel the blood continue to drain from her face. She pushed the thoughts away, then putting her attention back on the priestess. "Well? You said you would give answers."

Seeing their calm demeanor, the priestess gave a relieved sigh. "Well, what do you want to hear? You and your husband here-"

"Companion."

The priestess paused at the interruption, pursing her lips as she looked between the defying look on her face and the still bashful face of the man. She huffed, putting her hands on her hips. "Look, like it or not you are married, and that is the way it is going to be. Marriage is something that bonds two people for a lifetime. Whether you like it or not, you're stuck with one another! You should have thought twice before getting so horrendously drunk last night!"

Madrale gave her a look of disbelief. Try as she might, the fury in her voice could not be concealed. "WHO in their RIGHT MIND would MARRY TWO DRUNKARDS?!" Her face was red, her body now shaky and her heart nearly bursting out of her chest.

The priestess seemed to have had enough of them as well, becoming angry herself. "What choice did I have? There I was last night, doing my last minute cleaning duties, when a pair of idiots walked into Mara's beloved temple! I could tell you were drunk from the first moment I lay eyes on you, and when I tried sending you on your merry little way you threatened to burn me to death along with the whole temple if I didn't marry you two! You were literally holding a ball of fire in your hands, ready to shoot at me at a whim if I didn't do things exactly how you wanted! I'm a priestess, not a warrior! Maramal was giving a sermon to the new guards, and Briehl was gods know where! What could I do but listen to your wish? I had to give you rings as well, a service we don't usually provide. Then you two babbled on to one another absurdly, and wandered into Maramal's quarters. He was kind enough to leave you two be when he returned, sleeping on one of the pews for your convenience."

"But, we didn't-" They both looked at Cicero, who then paused when he saw Madrale's stare. He looked at the ground again, and then up at the priestess. "We didn't..."

"Have sex?" She laughed. "By the eight divine, how should I know? I stayed as far away from you two as possible! Besides, it doesn't matter anymore whether you did it or not. You're married."

"Dissolve it. Dissolve the marriage." The look Madrale gave the priestess was cold, but it didn't seem to affect the womer's resolution.

"I'm sorry, truly I am, but there's nothing that can be done. Once you're married, you're married until death separates you..." She trailed off, not putting it past the strangers to go after one another's throats if this arrangement was as terrible as they were making it out to be. Rather, how she was making it out to be. She watched as they looked at one another. The poor man, squirming in discomfort. That womer could be the end of him.

Madrale gave her one last nasty look before standing. "Fine then. I'll be leaving." Cicero squared his shoulders as he saw her head for the door. Frozen in his seat, it took him a moment before he was able to bring himself to his feet.

"W-wait, what about your sword? Your cloak? You'll need that, won't you Lis- w, wife!" He winced when she shot daggers from her eyes at him.

"I don't need them. Let's go."

Darting through the door before it swung shut, Cicero swiftly caught up with her, following shortly behind. She walked stiffly in strides. She wouldn't even look at him now. He look at her desperate to fix it all, but fell into misery at the knowledge that he was the problem. "Madrale.." He murmured. He then frowned, sticking his nose in the air and sniffing. "Hey, Madrale. Do you smell that? Something, something is... burning." Madrale then stopped, taking a moment to sniff the air. With their thoughts on the issue of marriage put to the side, they suddenly realized their own surroundings. The sounds of flames crackling could be heard, as well as the that of an ecstatic crowd.

Madrale looked to the sky to find that large pillars of black smoke were rising in the air. Her blood went from boiling to frozen solid in the matter of seconds. Cicero put a hand on her shoulder, giving her a concerned look. "Madrale?" He walked around to face her, met with a distraught look on her face as she continued staring at the sky. He looked as well, letting out a sheepish laugh. "It looks as though someone's home is on fire! What a pityyyy." He then smiled a little, as if he had made a joke she should be laughing at. Instead of this, she lunged forward, setting him off balance and hopping on one foot. "H-Hey! Madrale, where could you be going in such a hurry? Really now, you're not going to be a hero now are you?"

As she went in flight, he bounded after her, pushing people out of the way as she navigated to the front of the crowd. Flames were touching the sky: no matter what amount of help were to be given, the structure had gone past any chance of salvation. In front of it stood Legionnaires, along with a woman dressed in rich robes and a crown. She was giving some sort of a speech. When he looked at Madrale again, he saw something others might have missed, but he could never. It was the slightest thing, but it was there: she was trembling. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

"And I, Laila Law-Giver, declare Thane Madrale Uvani as an enemy of the Rift. There is evidence to believe that she is none other than the leader of the Dark Brotherhood, a illegal organization of murderers!" At that, the crowd shivered, a wave of fear and disbelief protruding through baited breaths and worried words. "...Her penalty, when found, is death. Anyone who finds this traitor will be given a great reward! Those who associate with this murderer, this enemy of the Empire... Those who help her, or know her whereabouts yet do not speak, shall also be put to death."

As the crowd grew into an uproar of debate and zealousness, Cicero firmly grabbed Madrale's shoulder, standing close behind her. "Cicero thinks it is time for us to flee. Fight another day, Sister." She continued to stand firm in her place. Cicero glanced around nervously, eyeing the guards. He searched for the best way of escape.

"I've been back stabbed." She whispered.

Cicero continued to look around as he grabbed her arm. "We must go!" After giving first a gentle pull, and then a yank, Madrale returned to her senses and followed him. Cicero hummed softly to himself, looking from side to side as they turned their bodies to get around the stirring crowd. Guards stationed at the gate watched them, but took no action to go after them. Of course, to them they were simply a couple: a warrior carrying his lady on an arm. Perhaps they believed that she felt sick from all the smoke and flame; at least, that was what Cicero wanted them to believe. "Just a few more steps, and we will be free, my queen." He said gently. "One, two... one, two... one, two..."

A man amongst the mob turned and watched as they exited the crowd, squinting his eyes at them. He seemed rather hesitant, going between pointing and putting a hand on his chin, but that was all it took to alert the guards. As soon as they began shifting at their posts, the man took courage and let out an accusing hand. "THERE! THERE SHE IS! It's the TRAITOR! RIGHT HERE IN FRONT OF US!"

"Oops, guess that plan didn't work, huh?" Cicero giggled as the guards became alarmed and all eyes were placed on them.

"RUN!" Madrale exclaimed, grabbing Cicero's arm as they ran away from the gate.

"But where do we go? That was our only exit!" He yelled excitedly. They were now running side by side, all the guards of Riften now on their tails. As they ran towards the market place, they found that they had been surrounded.

The Redguard from the day before was at the front, a warhammer gripped between his hands. He snarled at them, his nose flared. "I knew you were trouble from the first time I lay eyes on you, elf!" He spat. "I won't let you get away! I'll tare you to pieces!"

"What do you want us to do, Listener?" Cicero said in a low voice as they stood helplessly, the wall of soldiers growing thicker by the second. "Do we SLICE and DICE these dogs to PIECES?Mhmhmhm! OH, PLEASE SAY YES!"

Despite their predicament, she could tell that there was a smile on his face. His apparent trust in her decision making was rather... inspiring. "No, that won't do I'm afraid. I've known many of the townspeople over my past 7 years here as Thane, and I'd rather not kill all of them."

"Oh!" He whined in disappointment. "They wouldn't all die, not all. Just some!"

She snickered as she shook her head. "Stay back to back with me. Follow my every movement, otherwise it will be you who gets killed." He nodded his head, then getting into position. She then sprung into action, launching bolts of lightning from her hands as she made a sweeping circle around them. The soldiers in the front jumped back, taking in the new situation. Cicero laughed as he looked at the towering walls of electricity, letting out a whistle.

"So that's your magic, huh?" He exclaimed. "ALL HAIL THE LISTENER! SERVANT OF THE GREAT NIGHT MOTHER AND LORD SITHIS! ALL SHALL FEAR HER AND HER KEEPER!"

Madrale didn't allow a single moment to be lost, standing on the railing while creating a frost tunnel down into the water to shield their escape from the legionnaires swarming the lower level. Giving one final touch, she opened a portal, summoning a Storm Atronach where they once stood. That would keep them occupied... Giving Cicero a nod, the two jumped down the tunnel that was already being worn thin by Imperial mage's fire.

As they surfaced the water, Cicero spun around until he found Madrale. They both looked up as the sound of a whistle fell between them: the archers were already positioned. Madrale looked around as if she could see past the ice: her memories of the city's layout, were enough for her to devise a plan. After another moment, she turned to Cicero."We need to swim to the wall. It's more like a dam or a gate, I recall it being low; low enough for me to make a platform for us to get over it. I'll make an ice ledge for us to climb up on. Do you have any frost spells to aid me in this?"

Cicero shrugged with a laugh. "Oh, Cicero isn't a mage, you are! You know that! Cicero sticks and STABS! You are the one who BURNS and freezes. And zaps... And summons scary, SCARY things! Well now, doesn't Cicero serve a great mistress worthy of praise?"

She smiled a little, making his grin grow. "I should be able to do it on my own. Watch my back."

"Why, of COURSE!" He cackled. They dove under the bottom lip of the ice, swimming as close to the muddy floor as possible as they made their way beneath the docs. The legionnaires had kept a watchful eye on the perimeter of the ice tunnel, however, and quickly spotted their movements once they exited. Cicero did the best he could to keep up, having to watch for fire and ice as well as the arrows being shot at them. Madrale surfaced a few feet from the wall, generating a ball of white flurries between her hands as she kicked to keep it above the water. The foundation was barely erected when a whirl of frost swept over the water towards them. Cicero took hold of her waist in an attempt to move her out of its path without disturbing her spell. He cringed as the right side of his back and shoulder became partially frost bitten.

With one last push from Madrale, the ledge was as complete as it was ever going to be. Immediately, Cicero ran up the ramp, grabbing and leaping over the dam with Madrale shortly behind. Few soldiers were posted around the fishery docs, which gave them the opportunity to make a run for it once they reached land.

"We MADE it, WE MADE IT!"Cicero sang, clutching his numb shoulder. "You did it, you really did it! Cicero knew you could do it, for you are the LISTENER! Great and powerful, THAT YOU ARE!" He laughed merrily, running as fast as his legs could carry him. Madrale glanced at him, panting without a word as they followed the water's edge towards the wilderness.

Madrale sat with her head in her hands as she stared into the small fire. She looked up briefly as Cicero came marching through the brush with a bundle of sticks in his hands. He snapped a few of the branches against his knee, arranging them as he liked best in the fire. After fussing over it for another minute, he glanced down at Madrale, a down trodden look on his face as he sat on a rock with a few feet in between them. They had run until their legs could not carry them any more, until they knew they would be a safe enough distance away from any pursuers. False tracks, changes in direction: they took as many precautions as possible. There was no possible way they could find them now. As soon as they had found a good place to stay for the night, Cicero removed his curiass and chemise for Madrale to see to his injury from the frost. Words between them were few, limited things such as 'how does this feel?', 'is it any better now?' and 'we should have ate before we left the temple'. With that settled, their thoughts and emotions returned from the thrill of battle to the chaos of that morning. A deadly silence lay in the gap between them.

"Hnm, hnm hnmmmhnmmm HNMMMM!" Cicero hummed to himself as he observed his own ring. He glanced at Madrale, who continued to stare into the flames with a straight face. That unreadable, straight face... "Da-da-DA! DE-Te-he-HE! Snap the lute across me KNEE! Hehehe!" He muttered to himself. He looked at her again, pursing his lips as he then rubbed his fingers with his thumbs. "It wasn't so bad, was it?" When he looked up, he saw that she hadn't even given him a glance. "We're both alive, aren't we? Yes, yes... A-and Cicero think that was a great adventure! A great fight, no? You showed those damn Imperial bastards that they couldn't take you down! No, NO! Not the Listener! Hnmmm..." She gave him the smallest of glances. After another pause, he gathered his courage. "Yes, mighty indeed, that you are, but Madrale we really must talk."

"I suppose we do."

His heart jumped at her response. Licking his lips, he too began to stare into the flames. "We're married. I do wonder what happened last night, but what is done is done, is it not? This was least expected, who would have THOUGHT? HEH! We can make this work though, can't we?" She remained silent. Still unreadable as ever, which was certainly not a good thing for Cicero! How could he know her thoughts if she refused to show them? Refused to speak them? Cicero put his fist across his chest. "Cicero declares that he will be a loyal to our relationship, and will protect you: forever and always! Of course I was already doing that, hehehe, but now even more so! What is it you think? Cicero can't read that bland face of yours now can he? No, sometimes but not now. You're like one of those statues! Ehh, Cicero, uh..." He drifted off, unsure of what to say next. He then sighed.

Madrale turned her head to look at him. The corner of her lip twitched as if she were about to say a thing, but then had trouble deciding whether or not she wanted to say what she was going to say. She sighed as well, shaking her head solemnly. "I don't know Cicero, I really don't know about all of... this. I really shouldn't have accepted the drink last night, I knew better but I forsake my better judgment. Just don't speak a word of this."

He paused tilting his head as he looked at her. "Don't speak a word of this?" His tone was one that wasn't so much confused as giving her a chance to say things weren't how she made them sound.

"Don't tell anyone when we return home. We already have enough problems, we don't need to add this to the stress everyone is feeling. Just think of how they'd react!" She huffed. "The Listener runs off, the jester follows, Svenja betrays us, and then after days of worrying the Listener and the jester returned with the news that they're newly weds! Because they got drunk while trying to collect information! No, that wouldn't do... Not now."

Cicero became silent as his heart dropped in his chest. He had hoped, secretly, that a day like this would come, but not like... this. Of course Nazir would be he most skeptical of them all, but because it was something the Listener decided upon he would have to accept it. But now... now even the Listener was against their union. Perhaps he had imagined it, the feelings he thought she had. Perhaps they were never there, rather it was simply his mad delusions of wanting to be with her that fabricated these apparent feelings he thought she had for him?

Deep down, somewhere beneath her mask, he had thought for sure she had feelings for him too. Could she still? No, OF COURSE not! WHY would such an AMAZING creature, such a beautiful, MAGNIFICENT being such as herself EVER give him a second thought? Him, the troublesome clown. Him, the babbling idiot who spoke out of turn and followed her around like... What did Nazir and the un-child say? A pestering devil who could throw himself at her, but would never be the least bit interested in by her?

Maybe he was right, maybe he was just annoying. Maybe she only spared him because the ghost of Lucien told her it would be unwise to kill him, and she only accepted him back into the family because of their small numbers. Maybe Madrale went to Nazir for loving instead of him, because who would want to be with a delusional, mad freak like him? NO ONE! NOT HER!

He felt a wave of heat rise through his face as his eyes gave in to trailing tears. Shocked by them, he quickly wiped them away, horrified of how she would react if she saw them. As he continued battling against them, he turned his head away in shame, mentally kicking himself for his weakness. "Stupid, stupid Cicero!" He muttered to himself. He then stood with the intention of saying he was going to relieve himself in order to get away for a time. Before he could however, she spoke again.

"Cicero... I don't know what happened last night, and I don't know what is going to happen in the future now... I really don't know, and I have never dealt with a situation like this before... I just, I need time. Cicero, really I-" A howl rang through the air, causing her to fall silent. The hair on the back of Cicero's neck stood on end once again, as a sense of fear hit him square in the face. They both stayed where they were, frozen. "That was not a wolf's howl, was it?" She said in a low voice.

"No, no that wasn't. Cicero knows better than anyone: THAT WAS NOT A WOLF'S HOWL!" Madrale stood to her feet as Cicero became frantic, running like a chicken without its head. He turned to her, dancing from foot to foot. "We have to go, we have to go! He will hunt is! He can SMELL US! He knows our STENCH! It was that Redguard! You saw it didn't you, that look on his face as he took in our scent in Riften? You must have recognized it, you must have because of Arnbjorn! WE MUST RUN! THOSE DEVILS ARE FAST, HE WILL BE HERE SOON! HE'LL TARE US TO PIECES!" He loped into the thicket, turning back to see that Madrale hadn't moved an inch. He ran back, howling himself as he turned in circles, then running up and grabbing her arm. "HE WILL BE HER ANY SECOND! ANY SECOND! COME, COME! COME NOW!"

"I will not run, Cicero." She stated, standing tall.

He looked at her as though she had lost her mind. "NO! You CANNOT STAY!" He exclaimed, pulling on her arm again. "YOU WILL DIE! PERISH! BE NO MORE! IT'S NOT TIME FOR YOU TO GO TO THE VOID, NO NOT NOW!"

"I WILL NOT DIE!" She barked, then calming herself. "This has been, by far, one of the most troublesome days of my life. That being said, I will not add being chased by a werewolf onto my list of shames! We will fight, and we will kill this werewolf, do you understand?" He slowly dropped his hands to his sides, understanding that she meant what she said and nothing would change her decision. At his resignation, she turned as another, louder howl was sounded. Breathing out steadily, she drew back her arms. As she summed energy in her hands, her voice became soft and gentle. "Did you forget Cicero? I'm a master conjurer; I don't conjure up what mere necromancers might when you come across them. You yourself said you haven't seen me use my magic... Don't you want to see it now? Don't you want to see that you did not wait 14 years for your Listener in vain? Do you think that the Champion of Boethiah can't take on a werewolf? Someone who has dedicated decades to mastering the arcane arts? Have some faith in me: Mother chose me for a reason."

Cicero swallowed, taking in her words as he heard a rush through the grass and leaves not five stone throws directly in front of them. As the seconds slowly passed and the disturbance came closer and closer, the Listener threw whatever was in her hands, two portals then opening before them. As the thing bounded from the brush, it was suddenly brought to a halt as it rammed into two figures. As Cicero hid behind the Listener, he peaked over her shoulder to see what had happened as two unearthly voices spoke with much agitation.

"I am summoned again!" One bellowed.

"You shall die, foolish mortal!" The other one shouted as he pushed the burly creature back with his claymore.

"Listener..." Cicero uttered in amazement. "Those are... And, two? Two of them? You can do that?"

"I don't like to disappoint." She said as a small smile grazed her face.

The beast stretched out on its hind legs, now clearly visible in the fire's light and standing heads above the dremora lords. Cicero trembled, imagined pain returning to the scars left from Arnbjorn's claws. As he sniffed the air, his gaze set on the Listener and he growled. He bounded back towards the trees, then turning around. Reading his movements, the Listener lifted a hand by her waist. The beast, on cue, began rushing forward, leaping over the dremora. Right in a row, the Listener threw multiple fireballs at the werewolf, causing it to take a few steps back as it shook the fire from it's matted hair. It didn't have much time to think, for the dremora began cornering him, taking its attention away from the Listener and forcing it onto them. It struggled against them, lunging at them with claws and fangs. He began gaining the upper hand, laughing between his teeth as he tore through their strong armor. What he didn't expect was that for each and every one he killed there was a replacement by the time the one he clobbered faded out of the realm of Nirn. Growing tired after many of these repeated cycles, the beast glared at the Listener, snarling in irritation and hatred towards her. Processing that it would run out of its energy before the mage would, it turned in retreat, bounding into the forest with the dremora lords following in pursuit.

As the sound of shouts and branch snapping faded in the distance, their surroundings became still again. Crickets mustered up the courage to sing once more, and the sweet sound of crackling wood could be heard again. Cicero's breath was still shaky. As he stared at the back of her head, he saw her in a way he never had before. He had always figured that she was great, had always said that she was great, but never before did he know that she was great. He knew now that she was the great and mighty Listener. So mighty, so strong, so magnificent and terrifying! The Great Listener of Mother's choosing! And whether or not she shared his feelings, this one thing stood out bold and true in his mind: that this great and powerful, mighty and strong, terrifyingly beautiful Listener was his wife, and as his wife he would stop at nothing to win her affections even if he had to start from scratch.

A/N: And with that, let me say that for those who plan on following me in future fan fictions, you should uh... Recall this scene. Just saying. Cheers.

-Liliedove