A/N: Here it is! And Alysa is soon to make an appearance on my deviantArt account! Very exciting stuff, people! If you're interested, my original Dragonborn, a Bosmer called Nalledia (aka, my namesake) is up there (link on my profile page):) Righty then, on to this chapter! May the Night Mother wrap you in her cold, loving embrace, dear Brothers and Sisters. (PS: love Alysa's temperX3 You'll know it when you read it;))

Chapter 14: Negotiations are Best Left to Assassins and Thieves. Especially Assassins

"Stand still, Keeper!" the un-child hissed, grabbing poor Cicero by the ribs. Well, not his actual ribs, Cicero thinks that would hurt, but – well, Cicero thinks you understand, sweet Mother?
"Oww…" Cicero whines. Cicero had been fighting with wondrous Festus's Atronachs and summoned creatures for the past month, and the Frost Atronach Cicero had just been fighting had frozen his left side, and left a bad burn… oh, sweet Mother it hurts! Cicero hadn't expected it to move so quickly… Cicero was just out of practice! Oh– "Babette!" he exclaimed, flinching when the un-child poked his side.
"You have a few broken ribs. Festus, do you know any healing magic?"
The old Breton blinked at Babette. "Not much, but enough. Sit, young pup. Old Festus will see what he can do while the little one makes a potion…"
Cicero sighed, watching Babette whizz around her alchemy lab making a potion for Cicero. Such a fool: he could have won! He could! "He he he, that tickles," Cicero giggles; the Restoration magic the wonderful wizard was using itched and tickled Cicero. Wonderfully horrid feeling, horridly wonderful! It lasted a few minutes, and Cicero couldn't help but wriggle now and again. It was itchy! Ticklish! "Hm, that's the best I can do. You'll still have to be careful, your ribs aren't healed properly, and the burn is just a little bit less," Festus said, standing and going Snap! Crack! Pop! in all his joints. Cicero thinks he doesn't quite want to get that old… and Cicero is now thirty-five…. Cicero breathed deeply, feeling what dear Festus meant. Not quite right yet, but better. "I only hope our Listener won't have a fit when she hears about this," Festus said, ending with a half-chuckle. Cicero grins a silly grin, his cheeks warming. The Listener doesn't need to know…. He put his shirt back on, and his cap as well. What is the Fool of Hearts without his cap?
"Hm, and she insists nothing happened…" the un-child murmured, grinning. Cicero tried to glare, really he did. But he couldn't. So he just shook his head, wondering what exactly the un-child was talking about. Did something happen Cicero didn't know about? Cicero doesn't think so…. "Here, drink this. It'll help for now. I'll need a few more days to make a stronger one that will heal all the damage, so take it easy and wait."
Cicero took the potion. "Thank you, sweet sister, dear brother."
"Right then, I'll be off. Nazir gave me a contract in Haafingar yesterday already, so I should be off. Sithis and the Night Mother keep you, young pups," Festus grumbled, quickly walking away. Cicero thinks he's warming up a little. The un-child was still staring at dear Cicero. "Sweet sister –"

"Drink."

Cicero decided it was better not to argue with a vampire, even if she was so little. Cicero felt much better already. The un-child nodded, turning to her lab and started putting ingredients together. Cicero put the bottle on the table and stood slowly, still a bit sore. "Mother needs tending…" Cicero mutters, boringly walking back to his and Mother's chambers. Not that Cicero is bored with you, Mother! Never! Cicero could NEVER be bored with you! But Cicero finds walking so boring: not like running, or skipping or dancing… now those are all much more interesting…. Yes, they are. Ooh, the stairs are the worst, sweet Night Mother… Cicero can really feel he isn't right when he walks up them. Very uncomfortable. Cicero frowns. He wishes Alysa was home again already, and away from that horrid other Imperial… Cicero supposes he shouldn't hate his brother so much; after all, Cicero and Aventus are brothers now, and of the same race, but still: Cicero doesn't like that Aventus likes the Listener… but Cicero must take comfort in knowing his brother is younger than his honorable Listener, and that she isn't interested in him…. Cicero walks into his chambers, closing the door behind him. "Hmm… Cicero thinks Mother needs flowers…" Cicero looks for a vase – it must be a pretty one – but he doesn't see any that are worthy of Mother's presence. "Cicero will have to find a way to buy some," he says, wondering which one would be best for Mother. "But Cicero will definitely bring Mother some nightshade… yes, Cicero will quickly pick some for you, my dear, Unholy Matron!"

Aventus and I finally made our way closer to the Ragged Flagon. I was grateful for the shadows in this den: the five or six people in the small, fire-lit area hadn't seen us yet. It was surprisingly clean, all things considered. Although, I'd never had to deal with thieves before so it was an interesting experience. I stopped Aventus when he started moving past me. "Let me do the talking; you listen and learn, and back me up if something goes wrong." He seemed a little upset, but nodded. "And keep your hood and cowl up," I added, stalking closer. It suddenly occurred to me that I didn't know what Delvin looked like. I stopped before the circle of light began and listened, watching who spoke. A volley of insults came from a woman called Vex, and a few pathetic attempts at flirting from an older Breton. "Delvin, only with you in your grave and me standing over it!" Vex shouted, storming off to a different part of the den. The Breton sighed, sitting down at a table half-hidden in shadow and called over a man to bring him a tankard of beer, then the man returned to the bar. I strode into the cordoned-off are, silently making my way to the table where Delvin sat. I planted myself across from him in the shadows, Aventus close behind me, a silhouette in the dark. Pity he wasn't as skilled as I am yet: the second he moved the world could still hear him. "Ah, now you must be lost. Best ya scurry off while you're able. The Ratway… well, it has a habit of swallowin' up the uninvited," Delvin finished, chuckling. He hadn't even bothered to look at me.
I leaned forwards just a little, my movement catching his eye, my cowl just visible in the half-light. "The Dark Brotherhood requires your services, Delvin."
He blinked twice. "Oh. Oh I see…" he trailed, leaning forwards as well, a glint in his eyes. "Well now, how is Astrid doin' these days, uh? Tell her to stop by some time. We can have a drink. Catch up." He stopped when he caught my cold look. "Ah, but we can discuss that later, yeah? What does the Brotherhood need?"
I unclasped the amulet, pulling it out of my armor and put it on the table. "What can you tell me about this?"
"Let's see…." Delvin picked it up, holding it in the light. His eyes widened, and he let out a low whistle. I frowned under my cowl. "Where-oh-where did you get this? Don't answer – I don't want to know," he said when my brows drew closer together. "This is an amulet of the Emperor's Elder Council. Specially crafted for each member. Worth a small fortune. Ain't somethin' you'd give up lightly." He stared at it a while longer, admiring the many faceted gems in all colors on its surface. His voice was soft when he spoke next. "Look, it ain't my business ta tell the Dark Brotherhood its business, but if you killed a member of the Elder Council, you'd better belie–"
He was cut short when Aventus moved, hand on his axe, almost ready to whip it out. "You're right; it is none of your business. Will you buy it?" I interrupted, my voice icy.
Delvin narrowed his eyes, looking at the amulet again. "Buy it?" he repeated. "This? An Elder Council amulet? Oh yes. Oh yes, indeed!" he chuckled darkly, placing it on the table as he made to stand. "Wait just one moment…."
I watched the Breton head over to a cupboard and grab ink, a quill, parchment and wax with some kind of stamp. He returned and quickly wrote out the letter of credit Astrid had told me about, heating the wax over a flame while he wrote. He was about to fold the letter when I stopped him, taking the parchment and reading it. Fifteen thousand septims… not bad. I handed the letter back and nodded my go-ahead and he sealed it. "Here. It's a letter of credit as you've seen. Usable, by Astrid only, for any service or item I can provide. As per our standard arrangement. You bring that back to your lovely mistress. With my regards," Delvin finished, holding out the sealed letter to me.
I dipped my head quickly. "A pleasure doing business with you." As I stood, I glanced at the seal. A shadowmark denoting the Thieves Guild adorned the dark grey wax. Aventus and I left the Ragged Flagon and the Ratway. It would probably be midday when we got out, so we would have a quick lunch before heading out. I still wanted to buy another horse for myself.

I spat blood outside the Riften stables, glaring icily at the owner. Even Aventus looked a little warier of me. Good. I'm sick of his puppy love, I thought scathingly, snarling at the man moaning on the ground in front of me, the stableboy cowering behind a barrel. The horses were a little spooked: I could hear their restless movements. "Your horses are pathetically underfed and scraggly and you want A THOUSAND GOLD FOR ONE?!" I shouted, glaring down at him as he tried to stare at me. I snorted. "All of them together aren't even worth four hundred! And then you insist on a brawl over your non-existent honor?!" I hissed, gesturing at the boy. "Saddle up the two best horses you have, or Sithis help you…." He nodded hurriedly, and scurried away to tack them up. I grudgingly called upon my meagre store of magicka, and used the basic healing spell I knew to heal the damage I had taken, remembering what Festus had told be about directing it to the places that needed it most. My gums hurt and itched as my teeth settled into them again, and I could feel the worst of the bruises become a little less swollen and colorful. I stepped closer, kneeling by the man when the boy returned. "But, because I am a generous and considerate person, I will not report your assault on my person to the guards." I stood, taking the reins of an intelligent-looking white and gentle-looking palomino, leading them to Aventus. I nodded at the horses. He quickly got onto the white, and I mounted the palomino. "Here's five hundred," I muttered angrily, tossing a coinpurse at the still-groaning stable owner trying to get to his knees, pushing my new steed to a canter. I grinned wryly, pulling up my cowl and hood: I had managed to get two for the price of half. I couldn't wait to get home.

Babette's potion had Cicero right and ready again very soon! Cicero actually feels much better than before that Frost Atronach took him, but Cicero can't really be sure. Festus had left little over a week ago, and Cicero was wondering when Alysa would be back: he hoped it was soon, very soon. But, Cicero had spent his days training, or looking after Mother – he had bought her special vases and all the different poisonous flowers and plants were all around her coffin, Cicero thought it looked proper, just as it should have been! – and sometimes Cicero went out to practice by himself in the woods. A major road was just above and behind the Sanctuary, and several times Cicero thought he heard – and saw, too – people and carts and horses and things travel along that way. But Cicero wasn't too sure – he couldn't go look, and after all, Cicero is crazy… he he he. But Cicero enjoyed the time outside – he remembered what it was like to hunt, and stalk, and tease and taunt his prey… oh, how Cicero had enjoyed it. But he had given it all up for the Night Mother, and Cicero would do it again! He would! But sometimes Cicero wishes it was someone else who was Keeper, someone else who had to stay behind and hear the tales…. But Cicero is the Keeper, and he will keep until the next one is chosen. Cicero can only hope that the Family will grow, and soon. And that less and less brothers like Aventus will come. Or more, but ones not so interested in the mighty Listener. Cicero suddenly finds himself in the city of Falkreath, and Cicero decides to head to the inn for a quick break before he heads back to the Sanctuary. Maybe he can earn some more septims for the other place while he's here….

It was very busy in the inn tonight, sweet Mother: Cicero marvels that fewer people end up killing each other. He giggles, and smiles when the crowd notices the Fool of Hearts from a few months ago. Or was it many months ago? Cicero forgets, or doesn't bother to remember. Cicero isn't very concerned with time. Except where dear, beloved, mighty Listener Alysa is concerned… then Cicero is aware of every second. Cicero did some performances for the good, ignorant people of Falkreath, and two hours or so before dusk, an Altmer mage and his Nordic companion came in. Horrid scars on his face, and the woman was older – Cicero guesses she is at least ten years older than Cicero. Cicero wonders, are they lovers? It must be strange, sweet Mother, to see one stay young while the other grows old…. "Dragonborn!" someone called, and the Altmer turned.
"Ahhhhh! Now Cicero knows who he is! And he knows Cicero's dear L-one," Cicero nods, grinning. He watches the crowd turn and ooh-and-ahh and Cicero puts his full cap on, and pickpocketed the jarl's housecarl. Oh, idiot to carry so much gold! Pity Cicero can't kill you now… such a pity… Cicero pouts, but moves into the crowd. He wants to go home now. The innkeeper even let Cicero have his mead for free! Oh, you have blessed humble Cicero, sweet Night Mother, Unholy Matron! Cicero slips out, and skips home. To the Sanctuary and the Night Mother!

Night had just fallen over Falkreath when Aventus and I arrived. We headed to Dead Man's Drink, and left out horses in the stable. I thought I recognized two horses: a white and flint pair. I was also quite sure I saw red hair flash behind the flint horse. I brushed the thought aside, tugging at my plain leather armor, and glancing at Aventus in his Stormcloak armor. He looked as uncomfortable as I felt. We headed into the inn. It was packed to bursting. I shouldered and elbowed my way to the counter, Aventus in tow. "One room, two beds," I called over the noise at the innkeep. He checked his books, then shook his head. "Sold the last to another patron. I have a room with one bed, though," he offered.
I nodded curtly. "I'll take it."
"You'll take what?" Aventus shouted into my ear.
I turned to frown at him, fishing out twenty septims. "Go fetch your bedroll. You're sleeping on the floor again." I paid, and followed a woman to our room on the roadside of the inn. Aventus dropped his bags next to mine, and disappeared to the stables again. I headed out to the common room to try and find us a table, but somehow ended up at the counter again. So I did the most sensible thing – I ordered food and drink while I was there. Aventus finally came back, and the few glimpses I caught of him at the door, he was looking a little like a wet cat. I sniggered to myself at the image, and presumed it was raining outside. I wound my way through the crowd to him, and someone bumped into my shoulder. I turned, sharply, stumbling and trying to righten myself as a hand belonging to that person caught me and held me up. The snarl froze on my face, and my insult died in my throat when I looked into the golden eyes of the Dragonborn. He looked as surprised as I felt. "Alysa," he greeted, turning to face me and letting me go.
I dipped my head in greeting. "Tawarthion. It's… good to see you again," I managed, hating the crowd.
The Altmer grinned, apparently at my forced attempt to shout at him. "I can hear you just fine if you speak a little louder than usual," he tapped his ears, "I have a spell which helps dim the noise, and I can hear better than the mortal races."
I rolled my eyes, quickly scanning the crowd. Aventus was a short distance from us. "Lucky you," I returned, closing my eyes briefly when glass shattered on the stone floor somewhere, and a stream of shrieks and loud curses followed. Bar fights were always fun to watch, but even better to take part in, but only if you were a sober assassin. Ah, I remember when I won four hundred gold from such a fight… pity I had to pay the fine and damages afterwards. It left me with little more than fifty gold in the end.
"Why don't you join me and Uthgerd?" Tawarthion asked, interrupting my reverie.
"I have a companion with me," I said, nodding at Aventus as he appeared at my shoulder. "My half-brother. Hate to intrude," I finished, lying. Aventus looked pale suddenly. Somewhat in awe.
Tar smiled. "It's no matter, really. Greetings, Son of Skyrim," Tar added, looking at Aventus.
"Greetings," Aventus said stiffly, blinking. I was about to say something when he blurted out: "Are you really the Dragonborn? Can you really Shout?"
I flicked my brother's ear. "That's rude," I chided. I was really enjoying playing the part of older sister. Not that Aventus would have had much of a choice, otherwise. He rubbed his ear, frowning at me.
The Altmer only chuckled. "Join us, just for tonight, and I'll try to answer your questions."
I sighed. Nodded. Tawarthion led us back to his table, and Uthgerd greeted us with a warm smile. I invented a cover story for both of us, which Aventus just nodded to. We were half-brother and –sister, and according to my tale, my father had re-married after my mother had died, and now I had collected my sibling from Riften. We were going to tour the wild around Falkreath before I sent him back to the Stormcloaks. I almost snorted at that part. As if, I thought, watching as the crowd slowly thinned as the night wore on. And I had renamed Aventus to 'Aerius'. I eventually directed the conversation towards the impending wedding in Solitude, and Tar admitted that he was going – he was the Dragonborn, and had to represent Ulfric Stormcloak at the same time so it left him with no choice but to go. Aventus quickly monopolised the conversation again, and after he had finally finished interrogating the poor Altmer, Uthgerd said something that made me backtrack her words. "Wait – did you say, a jester was here earlier?"
Uthgerd nodded over her ale. "A jester, of all things. Strange fellow, though," she trailed, sipping her drink.
"Mm, I remember him – he spoke in third person the whole time. But was he gifted! I've never seen anything quite like it before," Tar laughed, shaking his head.
I could barely stop the smile spreading over my face, so I drowned it in swig from my tankard of water. "What was his name, if you got it?" Aventus asked before I could. I think he was catching on to who this was.
"I believe he called himself the 'Fool of Hearts' and also 'Cicero' at one point," the elf said. We were slowly but surely speaking softer – the majority of the town had returned home for the night. Aventus gave me a strange look when I leaned back in my chair, stretching my legs out in front of me. "When did he leave?" I asked.
"Perhaps an hour or more before nightfall…" Uthgerd said, watching me. I nodded, finding the patterns in the wooden tabletop fascinating. Hooves came hard and fast from outside, with a few huffs and snorts from the horses, and a few men calling to them and each other. I turned to the slightly frosted windows, and stiffened, sitting straighter. "Aerius, go see to the horses."
"What? Why –"
"Do it. Now," I hissed at him. He stared back. A Penitus Oculatus agent walked in. Aventus's eyes flicked towards him, and recognition bloomed in them. I leaned closer to him, whispering in his ear. "I need to know how many there are. Go outside, and see to the horses. Be careful, Brother," I added a little louder, pulling away. Aventus set his jaw, but nodded, heading out anyway. I shifted in my seat, tuning in to every movement, every word the agent made and said. I looked at the Dragonborn who was staring at me knowingly. "Those agents and my… family, aren't particularly friendly with each other, as I'm sure you remember from last time," I said softly. I doubted Uthgerd could hear me, but the slight dip in the Altmer's head told me he had.
Aventus came back a while later, followed by several more agents. "At least twelve," he breathed as he brushed past me, sitting. Damn, I thought. "And it sounds like they'll be here for at least another week, too. I overheard two speaking in the stables," he looked over at Tar and Uthgerd, and then the agents. I followed his gaze darkly. We couldn't go around and approach the Sanctuary from the west – a road ran above us, and if there were more agents camped there…. "We can keep them busy for a while. Where are you two headed?" Tar asked, his voice low when he leaned forwards. "West and north from here," I said. If he could even buy us a single day, I'd be grateful for it. "I'd take this favor from you instead of the horse, if it's all the same to you."
Tar sighed: he looked torn between agreeing and paying for my two-fifty horse anyway. But he nodded. "Fine. I'll send them north-east of Falkreath. Go, retire for the evening," he commanded, leaning back.

Uthgerd the Unbroken just watched me frown, the suspicious part of me coming out for a moment. But I agreed, despite hating being commanded, and pulled Aventus along behind me. "Good night," we greeted in unison, and my brother and I ignored the uninterested gazes of the Penitus Oculatus agents as we headed to our room, closed the door and locked it, drawing the curtains shut. I unsheathed my daggers, holding one in each hand under my pillow, and Aventus laid his axe down on the floor next to him, his hand resting on the glass hilt.