Chapter Summary
With the Elder Scroll retrieved, Cicero's ready to go and learn Dragonrend, but he gets a little more than he bargained for. Meanwhile, Delphine's very pleased to have Cicero back, but is a little discomfited by his new friend, and the next step in Operation: Kill Alduin, Save The World, is going to test even Delphine's skills.Chapter 21: Alduin's Bane
With breakfast done, Cicero had finally emerged from the room, a little flustered and dishevelled still and pointedly refusing to even discuss the subject of Lucien Lachance, much less resummon him. They'd settled their bill at the Bannered Mare and set off... only for Cicero to flag down the carriage driver parked outside the city.
"What are you doing?" Aranea asked. "I thought we were going to read the Scroll on top of the Throat? The carriages don't go to Ivarstead."
"No, but they go to Winterhold," said Cicero. He produced the Lexicon that Septimus had given them, now engraved with runes from the Dwemer machine. "Sister, please, take this back to the old man. Cicero has no time, he has a Shout to learn. But you do not need to be there for that. You could do this for Cicero." He looked hopefully up at her, holding the Lexicon out to her.
"Oh. You mean you were actually intending to return it." Aranea regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth. Cicero glared at her, hands on his hips.
"Of course Cicero intended to return it! Cicero promised! And Cicero keeps his promises. Besides," and here sadness filled Cicero's eyes, "he's all alone. Has been for years with no one to talk to. We can hardly just leave him there waiting, never knowing what became of us. Waiting for a voice that never came... no, no, Cicero will not have it! You must take it back." He thrust the Lexicon at her, glaring. Aranea sighed. Cicero's empathy wasn't the most highly developed sense he had, but of course when it came to lonely old madmen, it probably functioned quite well.
"Fine, I'll do it," Aranea sighed, pocketing the Lexicon. She braced herself for the inevitable bonecrushing hug, and Cicero did not disappoint.
"Thank you thank you thank you!" Cicero cried, head on her shoulder as he cuddled her tightly.
"Quite alright," said Aranea awkwardly, the hug having gone on for approximately thirty seconds longer than she was comfortable with already, and showing no sign of stopping any time soon. Really, was all this physical contact completely necessary? "Cicero, you can let me go now. If I'm to take this back to him, I need to get on the carriage."
Cicero let her go, bouncing up and down and waving her off. She paid the driver and turned to look at him before getting on the carriage.
"Cicero, you will be alright on your own, won't you? You won't get lonely or unhappy or anything?"
"Cicero will be fine," he replied, smiling at her, something approaching a genuine smile, like normal people had. It wasn't something she was used to seeing on him, except now and then when he was looking at Delphine. "Cicero can do without company for a time when he knows his family are waiting for him. But he thanks his sister for caring enough to ask. Not many do."
It was the rest of the world Aranea was more worried about, if she was honest. But all the same, it was nice to see Cicero healing to the point where being sent out on his own didn't cause clinginess, a nervous breakdown or paranoid fussing that something would go horribly wrong in his absence. While she didn't think he'd ever entirely regain his lost sanity, he was definitely doing better these days.
Cicero kept waving until the carriage was out of sight, before dropping the manic act and turning for Riverwood. Once away from Whiterun, he summoned Lucien back.
"Keeper?" Lucien asked. He noticed the change in scenery first, and then that Aranea wasn't there.
"How long has it been?" he asked, alarmed. "Cicero, where is your sister?"
"Not dead," said Cicero, feeling a little irked at the small smile of relief on Lucien's face. "She's on her way to Winterhold. We're off to the Throat of the World. Cicero must read the Scroll there and learn a Shout."
"A Shout? Ah yes, this... dragon magic you were talking about." Lucien still didn't really understand how this whole Dragonborn business actually worked, but between Cicero's ramblings and a quiet chat with Aranea, he'd gathered the gist of it. "So this... Shout. What does it do?"
"It will knock dragons from the sky," said Cicero dramatically. "And then Cicero shall find Alduin the King of the Dragons, and he shall use the Shout on him and kill him in the name of Sithis. Will Lucien help?"
"I have never killed a dragon before," Lucien murmured, fingering his dagger hilt, smile spreading across his face. "It shall be a most interesting experience. Keeper, you have my assistance and my thanks."
Cicero blushed, staring at his feet. "Oh the honour is all Cicero's," he said, embarrassed at Lucien's gratitude to poor, undeserving Cicero. Then something else occurred to him – the other reason he'd sent Aranea away.
"Lucien, my brother, listen. There is something else I must tell you. At the top of the Throat lives another dragon. He's called Paarthurnax."
"Ah," said Lucien. "And you wish him killed too. Of course, Cicero, you do not even need to ask."
"NO!" Cicero cried, appalled. Lucien actually turned to him in surprise, dark eyes staring at him in amazement from underneath the cowl. Normally those eyes would have halted Cicero in a second, but right now the little jester was too wound-up to care.
"Paarthurnax is Cicero's friend!" Cicero wailed. "His brother! The contract is only on Alduin, not Paarthurnax. Kind and wise Paarthurnax mustn't die!"
"I see," said Lucien, frowning. "Very well, Keeper, if you say so. Sithis cares little about dragons and their souls never come to the Void. If this Paarthurnax is willing to help us, then I will spare my blade."
"There is more," said Cicero, wringing his hands and capering about anxiously. "You must not mention he is there, not to anyone. He is a dragon, he has enemies, his kind are not well-liked. He just wishes to live out his remaining days in peace on his mountain. It would be best if no one knew he is up there. No one. Not even the Listener."
Lucien was now watching him very shrewdly. No one got to be a Speaker without knowing how to read people very very well. Cicero waited with bated breath, feeling the tension rise. At length, Lucien finally nodded and Cicero could have collapsed with relief.
"Thank you!" he cried, dancing around the ghostly assassin, taking Lucien's hands in his own. There was a bit of give there but enough solidity for Cicero hold on to. "Thank you thank you thank you! Dear Lucien is too kind to poor, humble Cicero!"
"I shall keep your secret, Keeper," said Lucien, lips curling. "If there is no contract out against him then he need fear no harm from me. But tell me. Should this Listener Delphine of yours, your own beloved, find out this dragon lives and order you to kill him, what will you do then?"
Cicero fell silent, laughter dying on his lips as Lucien's hands fell from his. In the back of his head, he heard something like a dragon roaring and the golden cage that kept the dragons within in check rattled, light flaring up for the briefest instant before fading away.
"Cicero is loyal and Cicero is obedient," he heard himself saying. "Cicero is a good son and devoted brother. Cicero... if it comes to it, Cicero will obey..." The cage rang out again as Cicero's inner dragon howled in protest. Cicero grimaced, shutting his eyes until it stopped. He opened them to see Lucien looking at him knowingly.
"Cicero keeps the Tenets," said Cicero harshly. "Cicero is loyal. Cicero will do what must be done... but only if it actually must be." Without another look at Lucien, he turned and strode off down the road towards Riverwood.
"Well reasoned," Lucien murmured, no choice but to follow behind. He'd keep the fool's secret, of course. As secrets went, it wasn't the worst he'd heard, and this Cicero was no Bellamont in waiting, of that Lucien was sure. All the same, the internal politics of the Brotherhood was the one thing he'd not missed and he dearly hoped the little jester was never put to the test on this.
The sky cracked and boiled, boulders raining from above as lightning arced across the clouds and the wind howled in torment. Above, brother fought brother as Paarthurnax wheeled to avoid Alduin's dragon fire and Alduin lashed out with both Thu'um and claw at Paarthurnax.
On the ground, Cicero dived and dodged for cover, trying to get a clear shot at Alduin. Which would be so much easier if the dragon would just stay still.
"Keeper, you did not tell me we would have to fight the Dragon King today!" Lucien seethed, clutching his dagger and following in Cicero's wake.
"I didn't know he'd be here!" Cicero hissed. "How was poor, foolish Cicero supposed to know Alduin could sense the Elder Scroll being read?"
"Well, he's here!" snapped Lucien. "And as I have neither a bow nor magic at my disposal, you are going to have to get him on the ground yourself!"
Right, yes, as if it was that simple. As if Cicero had not tried Dragonrend only a minute ago only to have Alduin dodge it at the last minute. As if the same problem had not happened with every arrow Cicero had fired. Really, it was too unfair. Cicero was the one who wore opponents down by not being there whenever they tried to land blows. Other people weren't allowed to do that! The only saving grace was that he had not actually broken the universe by reading the Elder Scroll, but given that a world-eating dragon that could break the sky had turned up instead, it wasn't a lot of consolation.
Fortunately for Cicero, Alduin's vanity had always been his biggest weakness.
"Run and hide, little Dovahkiin," Alduin growled, hovering above Cicero. "Makes no difference. I shall find you and devour you in the end. YOL TOOR SHUL!"
"JOOR ZAH FRUL!" Cicero shouted back, preferring not to waste time talking when he could be killing. He braced himself for the fireball, shielding his face to let his armour take the brunt of the flames. Thank Sithis and Sapphire, the flame-resistance held and Cicero was barely singed.
Alduin was not so lucky. Dragonrend had taken hold and brought the huge dragon crashing to the ground.
"Dovahkiin," Alduin growled. "Do you think this has not been used on me before? It did not help Gormlaith Golden-Hilt. It will not help you."
Having just seen the woman's death at Alduin's fangs via the Scroll, Cicero didn't really need telling that Dragonrend would only do so much. That was fine though. Cicero had only been working with Shouts for two months now. He'd been working with blades all his life and unlike poor Gormlaith, he wasn't weighed down by a ton of steel armour either.
To Alduin's left, Lucien ran in, slashing at Alduin's wing with his dagger, doing enough damage to ensure Alduin didn't leave any time soon. Alduin turned to swipe at Lucien, sending the assassin staggering back and crumbling into ectoplasm, but that was all Cicero needed. With Alduin looking away, Cicero cartwheeled forward, leaping into the air, off-hand clutching Alduin's horns while he set to work with Dragonbane, stabbing and slashing and carving pretty patterns while the World-Eater raged.
Alduin thrashed wildly, trying to buck the annoying joor with the stupid hat off his head, to no avail. Cicero was light and nimble and very good at keeping his balance, dancing with Alduin and somehow managing to keep his footing. He wasn't trying to bludgeon a dragon to death with a greatsword either. Dragonbane slashed through the air, slicing through scales, Alduin screaming at the shock that rippled through him with every strike. Cicero grinned, loving every minute. This was the sort of thing he'd been born for. Trained for. Lived for.
Alduin roared, flipping his head back in a vain attempt to shake Cicero free. Even Cicero couldn't keep his feet on the dragon at a ninety degree tilt, but he kept his grip and it also meant that he no longer needed to stretching very far to get at the underside of Alduin's mouth. With one fluid motion, he sliced Dragonbane across the roof of Alduin's mouth, slicing through palate and gum and leaving the dragon bleeding. Alduin howled in pain and twisted in an attempt to crush Cicero on the ground. Cicero let go and rolled free, drawing Dragonbane for another strike.
Alduin didn't give him the chance. Wings beating, Alduin hauled himself into the sky, keeping himself airborne with an effort.
"You are strong, Dovahkiin," Alduin growled. "I shall grant you the privilege of living... for now. We shall meet again and when we do... the krongrah shall not be yours."
He whirled away and was gone, trailing blood, definitely listing to one side and clearly struggling to keep height.
"GET BACK HERE!" Cicero shouted after him. "I HAVEN'T FINISHED YET! COME BACK AT ONCE AND LET ME KILL YOU! DON'T YOU FLY AWAY FROM ME, ALDUIN!"
It was to no avail. Alduin was out of reach. Cicero swore loudly and kicked viciously at the snow, sheathing Dragonbane with somewhat unnecessary force.
Behind him, Paarthurnax landed, the ground shaking with the impact. Cicero ignored him, still sulking about Alduin getting away.
"Dovahkiin. Zii-Zah-Ro. Turn and face me."
Cicero scowled, still staring after Alduin, now a speck on the horizon. Paarthurnax sighed.
"Zii-Zah-Ro. Tinvaak with me. This sulking does not become you."
Still nothing. Paarthurnax gave in.
"ZII-ZAH-RO!" Cicero leapt about a foot in the air and came crashing down in the snow, only just preventing his hat from falling off.
"Do not do that!" Cicero cried, scrabbling to his feet and brushing the snow off. "Cicero heard you the first time."
"Then it would be well to answer the first time," Paarthurnax growled. "Yes, Alduin fled. No, you did not kill him this day. But he did not kill you either. Do not be downhearted, my zeymah. You were winning that fight."
"It hardly matters if Alduin is not dead!" Cicero snapped, voice shrill. "Paarthurnax, Cicero is a Vul Zeymah, we are not paid to fight and nearly win. We are paid to kill. And Alduin is not dead. Cicero has failed! Cicero never fails! He might not always get a bonus, but he always gets his quarry!"
"Yes, and you will do so with Alduin as well, Kul of the Monahvulon." Paarthurnax nudged Cicero gently. "I have no doubt you will meet him again, and I have no doubt you will not grow weaker in the mean time. You have done well, Zii-Zah-Ro. You fought the World-Eater, Alduin himself, and you forced him to flee, injured. This has not happened before, Dovahkiin. Always he has triumphed in the past. This time... this time you drove him from the field of battle. It is a mighty feat, Dovahkiin. Something to be proud of."
"Cicero would be prouder if Alduin were dead," Cicero muttered. He finally looked up at Paarthurnax. "Paarthurnax is proud of his mal zeymah?"
A low rumble in Paarthurnax's throat indicated that this was so. "Paarthurnax is very proud of his krilot zeymah. My valiant brother."
"Valiant? Me?" No one had ever called him that before. "Cicero does not know what to say," he whispered. Stepping forward, he rested his head against the dragon's jawbone, stroking Paarthurnax's muzzle. It was the nearest he could get to a hug.
"Then say nothing," said Paarthurnax gently. "Instead, think how you are going to hunt Alduin down and finish the job."
"That won't be easy," Cicero sighed. Paarthurnax laid his head down on one claw and brought the other nearer for Cicero to sit on while he snuggled in to Paarthurnax. He'd not expected a Dovahkiin who was quite this physical in his affections. Still, it was rather endearing.
"But not impossible," said Paarthurnax. "First, find out where he has gone."
"And does Paarthurnax know where he's gone?" Cicero asked, not expecting a positive answer for a second. He was not disappointed.
"Sovngarde," came the response.
"Sovngarde," Cicero repeated. "Of course. The place drunken Nord warriors go to die and carry on being drunken Nord warriors for all eternity. Cicero can just see Alduin cozying up to Ysgramor and friends. How is Cicero meant to follow him there, hmm? Challenge all the Companions to a fight and let them kill him?"
Paarthurnax laughed. "Niid, Dovahkiin. You do not have to die to follow him there. He has a portal to Sovngarde, which he travels through to feast on the sille dilon, the souls of the dead. There he will be resting, gathering his strength until he is ready to return. You will need to find this portal and follow him through it."
Well. That didn't sound so bad after all. It would be something to impress the Aretino boy with in any event. Might even impress Eola.
"So where is this portal then?" Cicero asked.
"I do not know, Zii-Zah-Ro," Paarthurnax admitted. "He moved the portal after I abandoned his cause. Where it is now, few can tell. But his allies will know. Capture a dovah who knows and interrogate him."
"Capture and interrogate a hostile dragon," said Cicero, sighing. "Paarthurnax, my zeymah, Cicero loves you dearly but why, whenever I visit, do you always give me an impossible task to carry out?"
"This is the second time we have ever met, Zii-Zah-Ro," said Paarthurnax. "And you managed the last one. This one is not even impossible. It has been done before."
"Before? How? Who? Where?" Cicero gasped, amazed that someone had managed this and survived.
"You know the tale of Numinex and King Olaf? No, you are not of the Bronne, you may not. It is based on a true story, Zii-Zah-Ro. A tale of an ancient Nord King who bested a dragon and held him captive in his palace. A palace that still stands, not too far from here. Dragonsreach. Lure one there and hold them captive again."
"Ooooh," Cicero breathed, mind already alive with the possibilities. "Cicero knows Dragonsreach! Yes, yes, we could do that! Of course Cicero does not know exactly how. But that is all right, that is why Cicero has his Delphine. He will tell her all this and she will think of a plan. She always does. She's very smart like that. Cicero wishes he had a mind like hers."
"Yours works well enough, Dovahkiin," Paarthurnax said. "You likely have many strengths she does not. Do not compare yourself to others, Zii-Zah-Ro. You are who you are."
"Cicero is who he is," said Cicero, getting up and smoothing the creases out of his armour, lethal grin firmly back in place. "And Cicero is a Dark Brotherhood assassin with a job to do."
Bidding Paarthurnax goodbye, he made his way back down the mountain. He could hardly wait to hear what Delphine thought of this idea. He had no idea how they'd do it, but it would be fun finding out.
Delphine had come back to Sky Haven Temple, feeling prison bars fall around her and a weight in her heart. Back here. Back in what should be the heart of the Blades and now a murderer's mansion. All her doing. All her fault. Building a home for a Dragonborn whose allegiances were firmly for the night. Keeping her sweetheart happy even as she had others' sweethearts slaughtered in the street. Or the tavern. Or their beds. Or wherever else was most convenient.
I did all this for him and he's not even here. Delphine felt irrationally angry at the thought even though she'd sent him away in the first place. She missed his laughter. Missed the attention. Missed the little menial tasks all done for her before she even realised they needed doing. Clothes cleaned and mended, the bed changed, the room swept, flowers artfully arranged around the place to make it look nice. She'd never asked him to do any of that, he'd just taken it upon himself without anything being discussed. Apparently a Listener should not trouble herself with such tasks, and he'd been fiercely resistant to the idea of stopping.
Calixto and Sapphire had returned before her, and while she'd paid them and congratulated them, part of her was dying inside. Aventus had hugged her and enthused about how he could now sneak up on some of the Forsworn without being seen and how Calixto had been teaching him anatomy using a dead bandit's corpse and where to best inflict stab wounds for maximum impact.
Delphine had tried to have words with the man, she really had, but even she'd not been able to avoid the logic that if Aventus wanted a career in the army, he'd need to know this, so why not teach him now? She'd given up arguing and spent the rest of the day sulking in the library with Esbern, who'd been less than sympathetic.
"You knowingly took the Night Mother and her, let's be frank, murderously insane keeper into your home. Delphine, under the circumstances, this is one of the better scenarios."
"I didn't know she'd start talking to me!" Delphine protested. Esbern was having very little of it.
"Would she have named you Listener if you didn't already have blood on your hands?"
Of course not, that was the point, wasn't it? She'd killed one too many marks in the Guild, and on at least one occasion, it had been because she'd been recognised from the war and she couldn't risk the Thalmor knowing where she was. Her innkeeper days hadn't entirely been free of murder either. Not that Thalmor spies really caused her to lose much sleep over killing them, but keep at it long enough and eventually it would become second nature. As it had... until now.
She'd ended up curled at the Night Mother's feet.
"Why me, Mother?" she whispered. "Why me?"
No answer. When she most needed to hear the Night Mother's voice, nothing. Just silence. She had an inkling then of how Cicero had felt all those years and it had taken all her self-control not to rip the corpse to shreds in fury. Shaking, she'd closed the doors to the Night Mother's room and retreated to bed.
Come home soon, Cicero. Come home.
Eola had turned up three days later with a sackful of Orc body parts, one writ of passage, and a mission accomplished. Delphine had avoided the kitchen while Eola set to work preparing enough supplies to keep her going for a week at least, but she'd not been able to avoid the girl forever. Not least when she turned up bearing moon sugar tea and offering a shoulder rub.
"It'll be alright, Delphine," Eola had murmured into her ear as she'd set to work. "He'll be back soon. In the mean time, you lie back and let me take care of you, hmm?"
Delphine hadn't resisted, letting Eola see to her shoulders and back, lying face down and moaning softly as the younger woman got to work. She felt the tension slip away, but the loneliness hadn't and the lump in her throat was still there. Finally Eola stopped, pulling some furs up to wrap around her, then lying alongside Delphine, stroking her hair.
"Anything else I can do for you, Listener?" she asked gently.
Yes. Stay. Turn into Cicero. Or... something. Talos, I need someone to touch me. Touch me, kiss me, use me, fuck me, anything.
"No," Delphine whispered, tears in her eyes. "That'll be all. Thank you, Eola."
"If you're sure," Eola said, hand trailing down Delphine's back before she got off the bed.
"I'm sure," Delphine whispered, eyes closed and wishing Cicero would hurry home.
Aranea had turned up two days later, which had caused Delphine's heart to leap... then plummet as she realised Aranea was alone.
"Where is he?" she whispered, throat going dry. "Sithis, what happened?" Please, no, he can't be...
"He's fine," Aranea reassured her, taking a seat across the table from her and rubbing her hand. "He sent me on ahead, that's all. Said he didn't need me along once we found the Scroll and he could learn Dragonrend on his own."
Delphine finally felt herself relax. Alive. Thank the gods, Cicero lived. Of course, that did mean he was out there roaming Skyrim on his own with an Elder Scroll, which was a whole other problem. Not that there was a lot Delphine could do about it, other than hope he didn't accidentally destroy the universe.
Then that very evening, Cicero finally waltzed in, Elder Scroll held out in front of him, grin on his face and a skip in his step.
"Listener!" he sang out. "Cicero has returned! And he knows Dragonrend!"
Delphine couldn't have cared less about Dragonrend right then. She raced around the table, took the Scroll off him, passed it off to Esbern and then swept Cicero into her arms, crushing him to her and kissing him with all the pent-up ferocity she could manage. Cicero squealed, happily kissing her back and squirming in her arms.
"Delphine," he gasped as she finally let him go, face flushed, hat on the floor and hair in need of tidying. "Keep this up and Cicero will begin to think you can't live without him."
"I missed you," was all Delphine trusted herself to say in response to that. Cicero's smile faded as he noticed the expression on her face.
"Delphine? Sweetness? Are you well? Cicero was only jesting, he did not think..."
Delphine stroked his cheek, already feeling the guilt and the emptiness start to fade away. My Dragonborn is back. At last, at last. Cicero was here and finally the world made sense again, crazy as that sounded. If leading the Dark Brotherhood was the price to be paid for loving him, for having him love her... so be it. There were worse fates.
It was then that a silky smooth baritone she'd not heard before echoed throughout the chamber.
"So this is your Sanctuary. Impressive. Bigger than I'd expected."
Delphine stared over Cicero's shoulder to see the ghost of a man in Shrouded Robes wandering around the place, dagger at his waist, face hidden by the cowl but what there was visible suggested an Imperial not much older than Cicero.
"Oh hey there, sexy dead guy," Eola breathed. "Never had that sort of craving for the flesh of the dead before."
Delphine turned to Cicero, who was blushing and looking rather guilty. "Cicero, why is the ghost of a dead Dark Brotherhood member wandering around?"
"Ah. Er..." He was saved from having to answer by Aranea.
"Lucien. Welcome." She rose to her feet, smiling. "Should have known Cicero would have resummoned you. Everyone, this is Lucien Lachance, Speaker of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary during the Oblivion crisis."
"Quite," said Delphine, approaching the spectre. "But what's he doing here?"
"He was Astrid's bonus for the Stone-Fist job," said Aranea. "I told her Cicero could have him. So now he's bonded to Cicero and Cicero can summon him at will to help fight for him."
"He was Cicero's hero," Cicero sighed, the blissful expression on his face something Delphine wasn't used to seeing aimed at people other than her. "Come, come, let Cicero introduce you." Taking her hand, he led her over to where Lucien was standing, watching them both intently.
"Lucien, Lucien, this is Delphine, our Listener. Delphine, this... this is Lucien." He stepped back awkwardly, clutching Delphine's hand still and looking for all the world like a child who'd brought a new pet home. An apt comparison, that.
"So you are Delphine," said Lucien, smile flitting across his face. Now he was facing her, Delphine could see Lucien's eyes glittering at her. Same colour as Cicero's from the look of it but colder and far more focused. The eyes of a true killer.
"Cicero has told me all about you," he continued in that deep voice that could melt butter with a word. "It's a pleasure to meet you... Listener."
"Likewise," said Delphine. "Did I hear right? You're... bonded to Cicero now?" She shot Cicero a glance that told him exactly what she thought of him binding himself to strange men without telling her. Cicero's blush deepened and he shuffled awkwardly, staring at his feet.
"Indeed, Listener," Lucien replied, still with that not-quite-smile on his face. "When he has need of me, he may summon me to his side and I will accompany him and protect him. So far, he's seemed to need me quite frequently."
"I imagine so," said Delphine, glancing at Cicero, who responded by drawing in closer and wrapping his arms around her.
"Cicero was lonely," he said, a pleading note in his voice. "Aranea could not be there all the time, and then she got injured and Cicero needed help and..."
Cries of "You never told me this!" and "Are you alright?" erupted from both Calixto and Sapphire while Aranea swiftly began reassuring them both that yes, she was fine, she'd seen a healer, all was well, please stop fussing, didn't one of you end up getting stabbed as well not so long ago?
Delphine smiled and cuddled Cicero. It was the pitiful look in his eyes that won her over, the desperate need for her approval. It was really very hard for her to say no to him like this, not that there appeared to be a lot she could do about this particular situation.
"It's alright, love. You're allowed to have friends. He's clearly someone we can trust, so it's fine. We've got a lot to talk about, haven't we? Come on, let's eat and you and Aranea can tell us everything. Lucien, it's a pleasure to meet you. Join us and I will introduce you to the others."
The storytelling and sharing went on late into the night as everyone recounted their adventures. Needless to say, Cicero's took the longest and involved most interruptions. Finally, he finished by telling them all that after a titanic mountain top battle with Alduin, he'd gone back to the Greybeards who'd suggested finding out where Alduin had gone by trapping a dragon and interrogating it.
"Trap a dragon," said Delphine in disbelief. "Are they serious?"
"Oh yes!" said Cicero, apparently oblivious to the difficulties inherent in this particular task. "It's been done before after all. Someone once caught a dragon in Dragonsreach."
"King Olaf and Numinex," said Sapphire softly. "I haven't heard that story in years. It's a little short on detail though – just said King Olaf used Shouts to defeat Numinex the dragon on Mount Anthor and took him prisoner. Dragged him all the way back to Whiterun and trapped him in the Great Porch there."
"Sounds like utter fiction to me," said Calixto. "Cicero, are you sure these... Greybeards were telling you the truth?"
"They were, they were!" Cicero cried. "They said it was based on a true story and that h- they, well, not them personally you understand but a member of their order at the time, used to go and speak with the dragon. Delphine, it's possible, it must be possible, you can think of something, surely!"
"I will, but it's a little short notice!" Delphine sighed. "Dragonsreach, hmm. If it really did hold a dragon before and is still capable, I'm sure they'll have refurbished it, given the current situation. But I'll need to go and have a look myself, talk to Irileth, see if it's usable still. We'd need to lure a dragon there though, we can't drag one back from Mount Anthor or anywhere else – if we could do that, we wouldn't need the trap. Need to talk to Jarl Balgruuf as well – we can't just take over his palace without asking."
"Why not?" Cicero asked.
"Why not? Why n- because," said Delphine firmly, "not even we are going to be able to lure a dragon to Whiterun, fight it, subdue it, get it into a dragon trap and interrogate it without anyone hearing and coming to investigate! The Jarl, Irileth and the guards WILL notice!"
"Not if we kill them all fi-irst!" Cicero sang out, fingering his dagger gleefully. Delphine put her head in her hands, garnering sympathetic looks from Esbern, Eola and Aranea in particular.
"We are not murdering every guard in Whiterun, and the Jarl and his housecarl!" Delphine sid through gritted teeth. "I said no, Cicero, stop pouting."
"Bet she doesn't miss him quite so much now," Sapphire whispered in Eola's ear. Eola had to agree.
"But what if the Jarl says no?" Cicero asked innocently. "This is a very important matter – we cannot leave it to the whims of one man. Can Cicero kill him if he refuses to help?"
"If he refuses, I will think about the matter and then make a decision," said Delphine, using her sternest 'I am the Listener' voice. "Are we clear on this, Cicero?" Her eyes stared directly into his, almost daring him to challenge her. He didn't take the bait.
"Yes, Listener," he said, dropping his eyes first. "Cicero will follow his Listener's orders as always."
A brief wave of snickering and knowing glances made its way round the table, or at least it did until a look from Delphine killed the merriment.
"You'll follow them alright," said Delphine, her voice low and dangerous. "You will follow them because I will be handling all these negotiations personally, and you will be at my side. Where I can see you at all times. With your weapons away. Saying nothing unless specifically asked for an opinion. Am I quite clear on this?"
To her surprise, Cicero looked nothing short of delighted at this. "You mean... the Listener and Cicero? Travelling? Together? Just the two of us?" Delphine nodded warily, beginning to wonder if just perhaps she'd been wrongfooted. Cicero squealed with joy, flinging his arms around her.
"Cicero would like nothing better than to go on an adventure with his most sweet of Listeners!" he cried. "Thank you thank you thank you!"
Delphine felt her irritation melt away. He might be an insane murderer, but he was her insane murderer when all was said and done. As he snuggled into her arms, she felt a long-missed feeling of contentment and rightness settle into her bones. I will be Listener. For you, I will do this.
"We'll leave in a couple of days – Cicero's only just got back after all. The rest of you can amuse yourselves for a few days until we get back. Esbern, will you be able to research ways of luring dragons? There must be one, there's so many stories of challenges being called out to dragons somehow, and dragons answering."
"There are indeed," said Esbern. "It's the Thu'um – dragon names are always three words of power, like a Shout. Shout a dragon's name and it will hear it and quite possibly come to investigate."
"Oooh..." Cicero breathed. Much of what Paarthurnax had told him made rather more sense now. "So Cicero could call a dragon if he knew its name?"
"You could," Esbern confirmed. "If you knew its name. Dragons aren't obliged to come, but I think they might if they know it's you calling them. You just sent Alduin running to Sovngarde – I think we can expect a certain unrest and curiosity amongst his erstwhile allies."
"So we need a dragon's name," said Delphine. "The library has records of dragons the Blades encountered, doesn't it?"
"It does," said Esbern, looking overjoyed at the thought of some research. "I'll look into it for you, Delphine. Come back when you've convinced the Jarl that this is a good idea, I should have something."
With that, it was settled. Toasts were drunk, promises were made, and as the celebrating quieted down, Delphine and Cicero slipped away to do a little celebrating of their own.
Chapter End Notes
Notes on the Dovah: Krongrah - victoryKrilot - valiant
Kul - son
Monahvulon - Night Mother Next chapter advances the plot hardly at all, but to make up for that, it is quite long and utterly filthy.