Chapter Summary
Cicero's back in Skyrim, but still needs to win Delphine's affections back somehow. Before that though, he needs to track down Eola, and she's got a confession that might derail everything. And what sort of peace offering could possibly be impressive enough to persuade a Blade to overlook her Dragonborn's dragon buddies?Chapter Notes
WE ARE NEARLY AT THE END FOLKS! This chapter, then one more, possibly another to wrap things up with, then an epilogue and we're done! I hope you've enjoyed the ride. This chapter has been a long time in the works and all in all, I'm pleased with it. Enjoy! Warnings for spanking, and full on penetrative man-on-man action.Chapter 36: Cicero's Return
Cicero eased onto the bar stool at the Vilemyr, wincing as he sat down, balancing his weight on his thighs. He'd paid for hot stew and strong mead, and both were now in front of him, awaiting his consumption. Bed had also been paid for, and Lucien was making himself at home in the room while Cicero fished for gossip.
Lucien had been true to his word and hauled Cicero off to a nearby cave. After dealing with the bears, Cicero had been told to drop his trousers and bend over a nearby rock. The resulting beating had gone on for some time, the stinging cold of Lucien's palm alternating with heat as blood flowed to his poor abused buttocks. Cicero had wept and howled and then Lucien had slid two of those dexterous fingers into Cicero's arse, and Cicero's mind had exploded from sheer pent-up want.
"Oil... in my pocket," he'd managed to get out. It had been massage oil really, for use with Delphine, but it would do for other purposes. Lucien had retrieved it, lubed him up and then Cicero had howled in delighted agony as Lucien had slid that ghostly member into Cicero's backside, pinning him down and moving slowly in and out, filling and stretching him, using him without mercy. Cicero had whimpered and begged, babbling anything that came into his head, anything at all as long as Lucien didn't stop. Finally Lucien had grabbed Cicero's own cock, ordering him to come now if he wanted to at all, because Lucien wasn't about to allow him to pleasure himself later. Cicero had writhed in Lucien's grip, thrashing around and almost sobbing as he'd come, seed spilling all over the rock and Lucien's hand. Lucien had smirked in satisfaction as he'd withdrawn, tucking himself away and standing back while Cicero collapsed, done in.
"You did not come," Cicero whispered.
"No," came the response. "I think you need my company a bit longer, hmm?"
Cicero could have cried, but he didn't. "Yes, Lucien," he'd gasped. "Thank you, Lucien."
Now here he was in the inn, getting fussed over. Cicero liked getting fussed over.
"Are you all right there, Cicero?" Lynly asked, sweeping up next to him. "You're not injured, I hope?"
Cicero shook his head. "Oh no, no, Cicero is not injured – well, he took a knock earlier fighting a bear, but he is quite well, not to worry. Sweet Lynly is very kind to ask though."
"Well, you're a very kind man yourself, for dealing with our ghost problem!" she laughed, blushing. "And you tip well and you're always so polite!"
"Hear, hear," Wilhelm agreed as he served Cicero his stew. "World needs more like you, Cicero, it would be a much better place for it."
"Oh, now you are making poor Cicero blush!" Cicero giggled. "Stop it, both of you, a man can only take so much flattery. Tell me of the latest news. Cicero has been travelling in the wilds of Morrowind for weeks, he has heard very little of world events. Has anything interesting happened?"
"Interesting?" Wilhelm cried. "I should say so, my friend! The Dark Brotherhood, they're back! And... they killed the Emperor himself!"
"The Emperor!" Cicero gasped, hiding his face behind his hands to hide his glee. She'd done it, Delphine had done it! That first contract from that meeting with Motierre – and she'd done it. Cicero could barely contain the joy and the pride threatening to burst out. His beautiful Listener had killed an Emperor, and when Cicero next saw her... well, he'd have to see, but if she was at all amenable, he'd be throwing himself at her feet in adoration. Maybe he'd do it anyway.
"That's right," said Wilhelm, despairing. "They crept on board his ship in the middle of the night, a whole army of them, and killed everyone! They say it was drenched in blood and the bodies were piled up in heaps. The same night, another group of them attacked Dragon Bridge and swept through the town. It was the Penitus Oculatus outpost they wanted but they killed anyone else in their way too. These are dark times, Cicero. Dark times indeed."
"Yes," said Cicero softly. "They are. It sounds," wonderful, "terrible. For such a thing to happen, right here in Skyrim. Is there a new Emperor yet?"
Wilhelm shook his head. "No, that's the worst thing. The Elder Council are trying to keep order, but there's infighting and factions forming. I don't think Cyrodiil will last long before civil war breaks out."
Cicero did feel a little sad at that. Cyrodiil had suffered so much already, it didn't need any more war or violence.
"What of the war here?" he asked. "Does Skyrim have a high king or queen yet? Or does the High Hrothgar Accord still stand?"
Wilhelm just laughed at that. "That treaty? Lasted about a month. Then the Forsworn killed the Jarl of the Reach, rioted and took over. Their leader, Madanach, is king there now."
"They say he's like a wild animal," Lynly whispered, but whether it was horror or fascination, Cicero honestly couldn't tell. "They say he married a Hagraven and then killed her, and that he eats the flesh of his fallen enemies!"
No, that's his youngest daughter who does that, Cicero wanted to say, but thought better of it. Still, he couldn't help but smile. Eola must be so pleased and proud. But a month after he left – around the same time Eola had been at the Throat, fighting her way through the cold to seek out Paarthurnax. Why was she there, if her father had finally taken the Reach? Wouldn't she have wanted to be near him, guarding him if nothing else? It made no sense, especially as this Forsworn uprising had Delphine's fingerprints all over it.
"Ulfric Stormcloak can't be very pleased about that," said Cicero. "Wasn't Thongvor Silver-Blood one of his Jarls?"
"You really have been out of Skyrim, haven't you, my friend?" Wilhelm laughed. "Not pleased? The man invaded. He's there now, laying siege to Markarth. Says he has a score to settle. Hope you weren't planning to head out that way. Place is a war zone. General Tullius is invading from the north claiming Ulfric's breached the High Hrothgar Accord, Ulfric claims there was no breach as Madanach's not an Imperial supporter, and then there's the rumours that Madanach's made a secret deal with Tullius. I don't even know what to think. At least there's not been many dragon attacks."
"Dragons lost their leader too," said Cicero, sipping his mead. "The Dragonborn faced the World-Eater and killed him. They're not going away, but they're also going to be too busy fighting each other to give too much trouble."
"The World-Eater – oh come now!" Wilhelm laughed. "The world might be going mad, but Alduin himself?" His laughter died as he saw the intense look in Cicero's eyes.
"Believe me or not," said Cicero with a shrug. "But Alduin is dead. Cicero knows this is true." He returned to eating his stew, thinking that dear Wilhelm should count himself lucky Cicero liked him, or Ivarstead might find itself in need of a new innkeeper...
"Well, if you say so, I'll believe you, but it's a far fetched thing to report," said Wilhelm dubiously. "But less dragons can only be a good thing. Here, let me get you another mead. You're nearly done with that one."
Cicero assented, all the while tucking in to his stew and pondering what he'd learned. Madanach as Reach-King was good, but the Reach turning into a war zone – that was bad. Very bad. Sky Haven Temple was remote and hard to find, but what if Stormcloak troops attacked and took over the Karthspire camp? What if they decided to explore the ruins and found their Sanctuary? Cicero shivered just to think about it, but there was nothing he could do until morning. His quest to find Eola and rejoin Delphine had just got that bit more urgent.
The following day, Cicero left the inn, a little hungover from the mead but some fresh air and exercise and a cure poison potion would soon sort that out. It took a few hours but he was soon out in the Rift, off the road, away from prying eyes and ready to see if Odahviing had anything for him.
"OD-AH-VIING!" he Shouted. For a few minutes, nothing – and then Odahviing was there, wind whipping through the trees and the ground trembling as the dragon touched down. Lucien had sworn loudly and dived behind a tree, slowly emerging as he saw Cicero approach the dragon with his arms outstretched, wrapping his arms around the beast's snout and clearly cuddling it.
"For Sithis' sake," Lucien snarled. "Not another one! How many more dragons are you going to befriend?"
Cicero ignored him, smiling sweetly at the enormous beast. "Pay him no attention, Odahviing, he won't hurt you," he cooed. He turned to Lucien, glaring. "Lucien, be polite. This is Odahviing. He's my dragon. He used to work for Alduin, but now Alduin is dead and Odahviing wanted a new overlord. So as Cicero killed Alduin, now Odahviing helps Cicero."
"And have you thought how you are going to explain this to Delphine?" Lucien sighed. "She threw you out over one dragon, she's not going to want to take you back if you turn up with another."
"Tough," said Cicero stubbornly. "Odahviing's my lovely Dovah, aren't you? My beautiful Dovah with fine red scales and great big teeth!"
Odahviing obligingly yawned, bearing said teeth so Lucien could appreciate them too.
"Dovahkiin," Odahviing said, eyeing Lucien carefully. "Why is there a ghost following you? Did you bring him back from Sovngarde?"
"No, no!" Cicero laughed. "He was already bound to Cicero before that. Odahviing, this is Lucien Lachance. He is Cicero's brother. Cicero calls him at need and Lucien helps him."
"Your actual brother? Or a zeymahzin?" Odahviing asked cautiously. Assassin and Dovah were staring at each other, neither exactly comfortable with the situation but neither willing to outright attack either.
"Oh no, not a zeymah-sos, no," Cicero laughed. "Lucien has been dead for two hundred years, but I was taught a spell to summon him. Has Odahviing heard of the Vul Zeymahhe?"
Odahviing had not. "Ziizahro, I was dead for many years longer than that," said Odahviing. "These Vul Zeymahhe, I know nothing of them."
"Nothing?" Cicero cried, shocked. "Well, we must remedy that! Dear Odahviing has heard of Sithis the Volbormah at least?"
"Indeed," said Odahviing, shrugging. "But we Dov, we pay him little mind. We are the undying children of Akatosh, why would we fear the Volbormah? Not unless we die at a Dovahkiin's hand..." He looked at Cicero anew. "You follow the Volbormah?"
Cicero nodded, gleeful. "Oh yes! We are Sithis Incarnate! We are led by the Night Mother, the Monahvulon, the undying spirit of the lover of Sithis. She hears the prayers of those who wish another sent to the Void and she tells those prayers to our Huzrah, Delphine. She instructs the rest of us and we kill them!" Cicero's eyes blazed with unholy joy as he contemplated the Brotherhood's dark mission. Sithis, aside from those bears, he'd not killed anyone since he got back! He'd have to do something about that soon.
"The Huzrah is your Thur," said Odahviing, understanding. "You and your brothers and sisters, you kill who she tells you to."
"Yes, yes!" Cicero cried. "Only... Cicero was bad and refused to kill Paarthurnax when the Listener told him to. So he was banished. But he intends to win his place by her side back! He just needs to find someone else to kill instead, someone she doesn't like. The Monahvulon doesn't care about dragons dying, they don't go to the Void when we kill them. It is only Huzrah Delphine Cicero needs to win over."
"Yes, a Listener who used to be a Blade and who hates dragons," said Lucien tersely. "I'm sure she'll just love you turning up with this... Odahviing."
"And why would she not love me?" Odahviing purred. "If she wants joor to die, she need only ask. I am not a child of the Volbormah but I have no problem sending mortals to him. If you are a Vul Zeymah, following the path of the Monahvulon, I will happily join you."
Cicero turned to Lucien in triumph. "See? See? Odahviing will join the Dark Brotherhood! Delphine will have to accept him if he's one of us!"
"She will have to do no such thing!" snarled Lucien. "She is the Listener, she can decide if someone is a member of the Brotherhood or not!"
"But if Cicero swears him in, he is safe until Delphine officially casts him out, yes? That will buy us time, time enough to convince the Listener that having a dragon in the Brotherhood will be a good thing, yes?"
"New members of the Brotherhood can only be sworn in by an existing member in good standing, which you assuredly are not!" Lucien shot back. Cicero just shrugged.
"Then Cicero shall find a brother or sister of his to administer the oath for him. Speaking of which, did Odahviing find Yol-Ah?"
Odahviing grinned, teeth bared. "I did indeed. She's in the North, in a small settlement by the sea. There's a bay with boats, a ruined tower on the headland to the east, and lots of wooden buildings that would go up nicely were a Dovah to set light to them."
"Dawnstar," Cicero breathed, recognising the place immediately. But why would Eola be there? "Are you sure? She was definitely there last night?"
"She was," Odahviing confirmed. "She could not answer like a Dovah, but I sensed her spirit when I called. Come, Ziizahro. I shall take you there. Let us find you your briinahzin!"
Cicero needed no further encouragement. Odahviing lowered his head for Cicero to perch on and Lucien, seeing that Cicero was not going to be talked out of this insanity, was forced to climb on behind. Once his passengers were safely aboard, Odahviing took to the air, flying north, bound for Dawnstar.
Odahviing dropped them off by the road, just to the south of Dawnstar.
"They will not want a Dovah in their town," Odahviing told them. "I will find a safe place to hide and wait for your call when you are ready to leave. You will need to visit the town on your own and ask questions. Someone must have seen her."
Not if Eola didn't want to be seen, but Eola wouldn't have had anywhere to stay other than the inn, surely? Even if she'd left, someone would have remembered her taking a room there. She might even be there still. Cicero could only hope. Taking his leave of Odahviing, he ran towards Dawnstar, Lucien in pursuit.
The Windpeak Inn was more crowded than usual, the townsfolk on edge and falling silent as Cicero walked in. Something was clearly up.
Cicero headed for the bar, trying to avoid the stares, and approached the bartender. Thoring, was it? Cicero hadn't spent a lot of time in the inn while he'd lived here, but it had been a good place to buy food.
Lucien had elected to wait outside while Cicero investigated. So Cicero was in here, alone, with lots of wary townsfolk staring at him. It wasn't promising, but Cicero steeled himself anyway. He settled himself at the bar and ordered a drink.
"I remember you," said Thoring, passing Cicero an ale. "You were here a few times in the summer. Put Rustleif to a lot of trouble to get that horse and cart for you. Hope you're not here to cause trouble. Dawnstar's had enough of that."
"No, no, Cicero is just passing through," said Cicero. "Has there been some sort of trouble? Only Cicero notices that everyone seems a little on edge..."
"Aye, so would you be if your Jarl had just been murdered the night before!" Thoring cried. He lowered his voice on seeing half the inn looking at him. "I – I'm sorry, it's just, it's not something you expect to have happen in a place like this. I know Skald wasn't always the best liked, but even he didn't deserve to have that happen to him."
"Why, what did happen?" Cicero asked, wide-eyed and guessing exactly what Eola had been doing out here.
"It was... horrible," said Thoring, shuddering. "Skald, his housecarl Jod, and the Stormcloak commander Frorkmar Banner-Torn, all murdered. Cut to pieces and looking like someone had taken a bite out of them. Happened while a dragon was menacing the town, a big red one flying overhead and shouting. Didn't actually attack but while the guards were all out watching it, someone crept inside the White Hall and did... that! The guards say they'd never seen so much blood."
Definitely Eola's work. She'd been here... but where was she now?"
"Do they know who it was?" Cicero breathed, just about managing to conceal his excitement. Thoring shook his head.
"No, no one's got any idea. I tell you who it was though – the Dark Brotherhood. Sneak inside, slaughter everyone, get out without being caught? Had to be them. They killed the Emperor – they can manage a Jarl. Brina Merilis has taken over as acting Jarl for now. She's doing her best to reassure people, but everyone's on edge. What if someone else is next?"
"If it's a Brotherhood kill, there won't be any more, not just yet," said Cicero. "Sounds like it was just Skald they wanted dead – the housecarl and Stormcloak maybe got in the way."
"Aye and if I offend the wrong person and they call a contract down on me?" Thoring shivered. "Ah, but you're probably wanting food or a room or something, aren't you?"
"Actually, Cicero is here looking for someone. A friend of his, a young woman, about twenty five, this high, Breton, short blonde hair, blind in her left eye, red war paint over it. Have you seen her?" Cicero asked hopefully.
"Yes, I know her," said Thoring thoughtfully. "She was here a few months back, visited old Silus's museum, then came back with some Nord friend of hers. They went off with old Erandur the priest, but we've not seen any of them come back. I don't think you're likely to see them again. I'm sorry, friend."
Damn. So she'd not stayed in the inn then. Well, probably you wouldn't if you were planning to kill a Jarl. But Eola wouldn't just turn up, sneak in and kill them all, she'd need somewhere nearby to stay and observe – after all, she wouldn't have known Odahviing was going to turn up and provide a distraction. So if you knew no one in town, where would you stay?
Cicero finished his ale, tipped Thoring for the information and left the inn. He had a few ideas.
The Museum of the Mythic Dawn had been deserted and the interior covered in dust. No one had been there for weeks. Nightcaller Temple wouldn't even open – it was locked tight and Cicero had no key and nothing close to the lockpicking skill needed to get the door open. Which only really left one option.
"Dawnstar Sanctuary," said Lucien, approving. "I wondered when you were going to try that. I stayed there as a young assassin visiting Skyrim, you know. Dark. Dank. Shadowed. Truly a Sanctuary to call home."
"Cicero did for a while," Cicero said softly. "Eola knows of it, Cicero told her. But not the passphrase. Cicero didn't think anyone else knew it. But he will try."
So they made their way down to the beach, Cicero half crawling, half falling down the steep slope behind Nightcaller Temple to the beach below. The Black Door looked just as he remembered it.
"What is life's greatest illusion?" it asked. Cicero and Lucien both grinned and responded in unison.
"Innocence, my brother," they chorused. The door swung open and they walked in.
Inside, the Sanctuary hadn't changed much. It seemed a little cleaner than Cicero remembered though. Surely it would be more cobwebbed and dusty after so long abandoned? That was until he got to the little study area where he used to rest and sleep and realised it had been ripped out and turned into a forge and workshop area. Cicero rubbed his eyes. How... who? Delphine, could only have been her, but how... Slowly it dawned on Cicero that he'd written the passphrase in his diary, a diary he'd thought well hidden. He felt his skin grow cold as he realised Delphine had found it and read it, and had clearly sent people up to reclaim the Sanctuary for the Brotherhood. Oh Sithis, what else had she read in there? He had to assume all of it, all his dark history laid bare, all his foolish ravings, all his babbling about how much he loved and desired her. Sweet Night Mother. She must either love him or hate him after that. But there was no help for it. He'd brave a little embarrassment for her sake, and she'd known most of it anyway. He'd not kept much from her. He just hoped she'd not shown it to Eola.
He made his way further down the corridor, up on to the balcony overlooking the common room. Off to one side was what looked like a shrine to Sithis, with candles and flowers and a tablet with the names 'Festus Krex * Gabriella Drakyrten * Veezara Shadowscale' and the words 'In Memoriam Aeternitas' underneath. A memorial to three of Falkreath? What on earth had happened? Dropping into a sneaking crouch and motioning for Lucien to do the same, Cicero crept forward as he heard voices floating up from the kitchen.
"Still think you should have waited, sister." Nazir the Redguard. Another Falkreath assassin here. Why?
"Why? I wasn't going to get a better chance than that, and Del wanted him dead anyway."
Eola. It was her, it was her! Cicero felt his heart sing. She'd gone back to Delphine, made up with her, rejoined the Brotherhood... and taken up with Falkreath to settle out here. Why? Why would Eola leave the Reach? Unless she was just here to sort out a contract and then go home. But with the Reach at war, Eola might not be able to.
"Yes, but this soon?" The unchild, Babette. "Delphine's not dealt with Ulfric yet. What if he retakes the Reach and comes here?"
The thud of a tankard hitting the table. "Ulfric is not going to retake the Reach!" Eola shouted. "Da is going to link up with Tullius' troops and put the Stormcloak in his grave, that's if Delphine doesn't get there first, which we all know she will!"
"Hey hey hey. Easy there," said Nazir soothingly. Cicero crept to the top of the stairs to see all three of them sitting around a refurbished kitchen with a large stained glass window to Sithis dominating the room and Brotherhood banners draped all over the place. Eola had her back to him, firelight reflecting off her hair and Shrouded robes as Nazir placed a hand on her shoulder.
"No one thinks Delphine's not got things well in hand down there, and I for one don't think Ulfric's going to take Markarth any time soon, not with the city well fortified and half the Forsworn in the Reach defending the place. I trust the Listener to have something planned, and I'm sure killing Skald a little early won't derail it. Will it, Babette?"
Babette, sitting just out of Cicero's field of vision, took Eola's hand in hers.
"I'm sure it'll be fine, Eola. I didn't mean to worry you, I know you're worried about your father."
"I'm worried about all of them," said Eola softly. "But thanks, you guys. You're awesome." She smiled back at them both. Cicero could barely believe his eyes. Falkreath and Karthspire assassins as friends. Who would have thought it?
Slowly, he got to his feet and began making his way down the steps as quietly as possible. It wasn't quite quietly enough. Babette's sensitive vampiric ears heard him and she spun round, hands raised with Vampiric Drain at the ready. Eola's reflexes weren't bad either, as she immediately cast her mage armour and raised Destruction magic in both hands, kicking her chair back as she turned. Nazir was on his feet, scimitar at the ready.
All of them froze to see him. Cicero carefully raised his hands, fists clenched in a sort of hybrid of the Imperial gesture of surrender and the Forsworn display of peaceful intent.
"Cicero!" Babette gasped. "You're back! Did the Listener send you?"
"Not exactly," Cicero admitted. He looked hesitantly at the three, Babette surprised but seemingly pleased, Nazir grimacing but no longer hostile and Eola... Eola had gone pale and was visibly shaking as she lowered her hands. Cicero wasn't sure if she was pleased to see him or not.
"Sister?" he whispered, slowly approaching her. "It's me. Cicero. I – I came back."
She had a hand over her mouth and there were tears glittering in her eyes.
"You're alive," she managed to get out. "You're not dead. Are – are you really here?"
Cicero looked down at himself. He seemed real enough, but he patted himself down and pinched his arm to make sure. He felt real, but could never entirely be sure.
"I think so, sister. Lucien, I'm alive and really here, aren't I?"
"Yes, Cicero, you are," Lucien sighed, emerging into the firelight. "Eola. It is good to see you again." Lucien's eyes fell on Babette and he actually smiled. "Greetings, my sister. It has been a long time."
"Lucien!" Babette laughed, rushing to hug Lucien. Ghost and vampire moved off into a corner to have a private conversation, while Nazir suddenly and mysteriously found something to occupy himself with over near the cooking pot. Leaving Cicero and Eola facing each other.
"Cicero," Eola whispered, slowly moving forward. "It's... I... old gods, I can hardly believe it..."
"Believe it, sister," said Cicero, uncontrollable smile spreading across his face. "It's really me."
"Cicero," she cried again, and then she'd closed the distance and was in his arms, clinging on to him and hugging him so hard he could hardly breathe. Cicero didn't even care. Picking her up, he swung her around, cackling in delight at seeing his favourite sister again. She was holding on, likewise squealing until he finally put her down and looked at her properly. She was smiling, wiping the tears away.
"You did it!" she sniffled. "You killed Alduin!"
"I did, I did!" Cicero laughed. "I went to Sovngarde and killed him! With arrows and shouting and stabbing and fire! And you! You killed the Emperor!"
Eola laughed. "Not me, babe. Mama Del. Her and Babette there snuck on board the Emperor's ship and killed 'em all."
"All of them? Everyone on board?" Cicero gasped. Eola nodded.
"Oh hell yeah. I heard the lower decks had so much blood spilled, the boat nearly sank."
Cicero closed his eyes, shivering in awe at that mental image. "Oh sister. Sister, our Listener is truly a killer beyond compare."
"Yeah," said Eola, a happy little smile on her own face. "Yeah, she surely is." A shadow flitted over her face and she turned away. "Come on, sit down. We've got a lot of catching up to do, hey?"
"We do," said Cicero, joining her and accepting the mead she poured out for him. "Such as telling humble Cicero why Delphine opened this place up. Why are the three of you living here?"
So Eola told him of how their first attempt on the Emperor's life had gone wrong, and how Maro had sent the Oculatus to burn out what he thought was the only Sanctuary in Skyrim – Falkreath. Cicero listened in horror as she told of their frantic ride across Skyrim and of getting there too late to stop it but in enough time to intercept and save Astrid, Arnbjorn and Nazir from the flames. Cicero, veteran of not one but two lost Sanctuaries, was shaking and pale by the end of it.
"So Delphine gave Astrid this place," he said softly. That explained the memorial upstairs. Eola nodded.
"Yeah, and half the cash from the successful attempt as weregild. Astrid's had the place done up a bit, as you can see."
Cicero had seen. He was impressed indeed.
"And now there's another contract or several on the go. Tell me, sister, is it pure coincidence that the Forsworn have taken over the Reach and killed one of the Stormcloak's Jarls to do it, and now you're here murdering another one?"
Eola looked up, grinning fiercely. "What do you think?" she asked.
"Well now, sister, Cicero thinks that Delphine the Talos worshipper has had a terrible and regrettable falling out with the Stormcloak Jarl and wishes to kill him, which is why she's murdering his allies. Either that, or someone is offering her a large amount of money to sort the Skyrim Civil War out." Cicero looked at Eola, grinning himself, sure there was a story here. He wasn't wrong.
"You guess correctly, my brother. Turns out us killing the Emperor has caused a bit of trouble in Cyrodiil, which means General Tullius wants to take the Legion home to sort it out. Of course, he can't do that until Ulfric's taken care of, so guess what he wants us to do."
Cicero threw back his head and laughed. "Oh sister, that's wonderful! So of course Delphine has said yes and brokered a secret arrangement between Madanach and Tullius whereby Madanach gets to be king if he recognises the Empire – oh sister, that's genius. Genius!" Cicero sighed happily, smiling as he imagined Delphine hosting a conference and dictating terms. He wished he could have been there. His fierce, talented Listener, rewriting history. "My Delphine," he said softly. "My lovely Delphine. Oh sister, she's so clever, you know. Cicero wishes he was that smart. He does love her so very much. Sister?" He looked up to see Eola smiling bitterly, tears in her eyes again.
"Yeah," said Eola softly. "Yeah, she's a fucking wizard of scheming and cunning. I know."
"Are you alright?" Cicero asked, concerned. "Sister? Don't cry, please! Did I say something wrong?"
Eola dried her eyes, looking away. "No, no," she sighed. "It's fine. I know you love her, it's all good, really."
Cicero patted her hand, still a little concerned but knowing when not to push things. "So Delphine arranged a secret peace deal, encouraged Madanach to murder the other Silver-Blood and lead an uprising, and now she sent Eola here to kill Skald the Elder to make way for a Jarl who supports the Empire. Cunning!"
Eola was staring at her hands, breathing very heavily, eyes closed as if in pain. "Not exactly," she said softly.
"Not exactly?" Cicero asked, worried. Something was clearly bothering her, something she didn't want to talk about. She looked almost guilty, but surely not, very little ever bothered Eola's conscience for long.
"She never asked me to come here," said Eola, still not meeting his eyes. "She doesn't even know I'm here. I left, Cicero. I ran away. I just couldn't face her after what happened, and couldn't stay in the Reach, looking at the Karthspire every day, so I came here. I knew Skald had been marked for death, so thought I'd scout the town and take care of him, deal with any other contracts that might come in too."
"You ran away?" Cicero gasped. "But why? What happened? Did the two of you fight? Did something bad happen? Was it – was it because of me? Were you still angry at her for banishing me? Oh sister, that is very loyal of you, but please, don't be angry with her, it was all Cicero's fault..."
"I'm not angry with her!" Eola cried tearfully. "I forgave her for that weeks ago! No, I – I'm in love with her. Gods, have been for ages, but you and she were so wrapped up in each other I never thought it would ever go anywhere. Then you were gone and you said you weren't coming back and she was lonely and needed someone and then she came up with a way for my father to get the Reach back and... and I ended up kissing her and..."
"You kissed my Listener," said Cicero, his voice low and dangerous and every thought process he had glowing red and furious. "You. Kissed. My Listener."
Eola's eyes grew wide as the blood drained from her face. Casting her mage armour, she got up and backed away, hands raised to defend herself.
"Cicero. Hear me out, it's not..."
"You little HARLOT!" Cicero shrieked, drawing his dagger and leaping for her. Eola hastily cast a frost spell at him, slowing him down a bit, but it was Lucien sprinting across the kitchen and wrestling him into submission that actually stopped Cicero from murdering her on the spot. Nazir likewise had dropped everything and raced to Eola's side, scimitar drawn and his own body between Eola and Cicero. Babette looked appalled, watching from a distance as Nazir and Lucien pulled the two apart.
"Not another move, Keeper!" Lucien shouted at Cicero. "Put the knife away! We do not murder our siblings!"
Cicero struggled in Lucien's grip, still waving his dagger around.
"You knew what she meant to me, you knew!" he howled, maniac's eyes fixed on Eola, who despite the frost in the palms of both hands, was shaking all over and looked terrified.
"Cicero," said Nazir firmly. "Put. The dagger. Down."
Slowly, something like sanity returned to Cicero's face. Very slowly, he lowered the dagger and sheathed it.
"You knew," he repeated bitterly. "You knew how I felt. Sister, how could you?" He turned in Lucien's arms and buried his head in the ghost's chest.
Eola crept out from behind Nazir, no longer afraid but not terribly relieved either. Folding her arms, she just watched, her face a mask.
"You don't need to worry, Cicero," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. "She turned me down. She said no... because she's still in love with you. She's still head over heels for you, watching and waiting, hoping and praying that one day her Dragonborn will come home. So you don't have to worry about a thing. Get your arse over to Karthspire, bring a big fuck-off peace offering with you, grovel at her feet unashamedly and she'll almost certainly take you back. Go on, go. Don't want to keep the Matriarch waiting, do you?"
Cicero bit his lip, feeling his jealousy leave him. Poor Eola, she looked so unhappy. Despite everything, she was still his sister. Still his dear sister, and he still cared for her.
"Why are you telling me this?" he whispered. It was the news he'd hoped for, but he couldn't run around screaming his head off in joy, not with Eola looking so broken and defeated. He might have stabbed her in sheer rage, but now it had subsided? No, he couldn't hurt her, not now.
"Because one of us might as well be happy," she said, turning away with a sob, making for the door that led to the sleeping quarters. Cicero felt his heart break at the sight.
"Eola!" he cried, pushing Lucien away and running after her. "Eola, wait! WULD!"
He closed the gap in seconds, crashing into her and catching her in his arms.
"Sister," he whispered. "Dear, sweet sister, Cicero is sorry, don't go!"
"Don't," she gasped. "Don't feel sorry for me, damn you! Go back to trying to stab me again, I'd rather that than pity!"
"Eola," Cicero gasped, suppressing the urge to laugh. "Oh, Eola. Sister mine. Always you have to be the strong one, don't you?"
"One of us should have some emotional stability, shouldn't they?" she muttered, with a dark look at him. Cicero bit his lip, unsure whether to laugh or cry. Yes, she'd kissed his Listener, but he could hardly blame her for loving Delphine, or even acting on it. At least she'd not gone behind his back – he had told her not to expect him to return, after all. She'd even confessed, knowing he'd be upset. Damn it all. He couldn't hate her, not for long. Not his Eola.
He pulled her close and held her, resting his forehead against hers. Slowly but by degrees, he felt her relax just a little as her arms went around him.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I know she means the world to you. I don't want to take her away from you, I really don't. You two are cute together, and she's really happy when you're around, well, apart from that time when Kaie told her you had a five-figure bounty on your head after the whole Cidhna Mine trip, and when you were whining about not being able to breathe fire, but honestly I think both of those were entirely your fault."
"They were, they were!" Cicero giggled, blushing as he remembered. He also remembered Delphine afterwards taking him in her arms and kissing him, reminding him he was still her beloved Dragonborn when all was said and done. "Does Eola mean it? Delphine still loves her Cicero?"
"Love you?" Eola laughed, still bitter. "She read your journals after she got back to Karthspire, realised you weren't actually going to take over the world with Paarthurnax after Alduin died, and travelled through the night to Whiterun to try and find you. Cicero, she just missed you. If you'd taken just a bit longer to catch Odahviing, or slept in... she'd have found you and probably taken you back that day."
Cicero's breath caught in his throat. He could have had Delphine back months ago if things had gone differently.
"I have to find her," he breathed. Without another word, he let Eola go and ran for the door – or at least he did until Eola grabbed his arm.
"Cicero, you can't just go back to Karthspire and fling yourself at her feet," Eola cried. "The place is overrun with enemy troops! You'll get arrested as a spy for sure! Even I'm not sure I want to head back out there right now, and at least I could blend in with the Forsworn and get smuggled back in with them! Secondly, she's not just going to take you back no matter how much she wants to. She's Listener and you broke the Tenets. You've got to have a plan. Some way of making it up to her."
Which was more or less Cicero's original idea, but he still had no idea who or how to murder to try and regain her affections. Still, Eola was bright. Maybe she'd know someone the world could live without.
"Cicero was thinking maybe he could find someone she didn't like and kill them for her," said Cicero hesitantly. "But he's not sure who. Does Eola think killing the Stormcloak will please her?"
Eola shook her head. "No, she kinda likes Ulfric. She was a bit sad at having to kill him, but said if anyone was going to do it, she wanted it to be her if possible. She won't be happy if you butt in and steal her kill."
Understandable. Cicero wouldn't have been terribly pleased if he'd got all the way to Sovngarde to kill Alduin only to find some upstart had got there first.
"Well, who else doesn't she like?" Cicero sighed. "She was a Blade, who don't the Blades like?"
The answer came to both of them at the same time.
"The Thalmor," both Cicero and Eola said in unison.
"So I need to kill the Thalmor," said Cicero thoughtfully. A vicious little smile appeared on Eola's face.
"We," she said. "We kill the Thalmor. I mean, maybe not all of them, but maybe we could sneak into the Embassy and abduct Elenwen and bring Delphine her head?"
Cicero's grin widened. "Why not all of them?" he purred. "We kill Elenwen, they'll just replace her. We slaughter them all and burn their Embassy – that will send a message. It will be some time before they're able to replace all that. Time Delphine can spend not living in fear."
"And how are the two of us plus Lucien meant to achieve all that?" said Eola. "We're good but we're not immortal. Also it's not just the Embassy. There's a Thalmor prison fort at Northwatch Keep too. We'd have a tough time storming either, never mind both before anyone realised what was happening. They're miles apart, Cicero."
Cicero's grin didn't even falter. "Come with me, sister," he laughed. "There's someone you need to meet."
"Sweet Namira," Eola gasped, staring in awe as Odahviing crashed to the ground before her. They were on the beach in the next bay east of Dawnstar, Cicero with his arm in Eola's and Lucien standing behind, looking as if he disapproved of the whole thing.
"Ziizahro!" Odahviing laughed. "You were successful, I see. Yol-Ah Ziizahro-Briinah, it is good to see you again."
"Er... likewise?" said Eola hesitantly. Cicero was bouncing up and down next to her, looking terrifically pleased with himself.
"Look, look, I have a new dragon friend!" Cicero cried. "Odahviing was so impressed by my killing Alduin, he wanted to pledge allegiance to me, as Cicero is the strongest of the Dov now. So as Cicero is a great admirer of Odahviing, Cicero has accepted."
"Wasn't your first dragon friend the reason Delphine kicked you out in the first place?" Eola asked. "You put any thought into what she's going to say when you show up with another one?"
"Precisely what I told him," Lucien put in. "He would hear none of it."
"Ah, but this is different!" Cicero grinned. "Cicero has a plan! Cicero is not going to hide it and hope Delphine never finds out, no! Cicero is a hero of Sovngarde now and he is going to be strong and decisive."
"Oh Sithis," Eola sighed, exchanging a pained look with Lucien. "All right, Cicero, what's the plan."
"Odahviing is going to join the Dark Brotherhood!" said Cicero gleefully. Eola rubbed her forehead, feeling a headache coming on.
"Cicero," said Eola wearily. "Only the Listener can decide who is and isn't in the Dark Brotherhood. She's the Listener. All she has to do is kick him out and you're back to square one."
"Yes," said Cicero, "but in the Listener's absence, any Dark Brotherhood member in good standing can swear in a new member and that membership is valid subject to the new member keeping the Tenets until a more senior member decides otherwise. It is the law of the Brotherhood!" Cicero nodded firmly. Eola had a horrible feeling she knew where this was going and turned mutely to Lucien, hoping for a reprieve. Alas, she was out of luck.
"I am afraid he is correct in this at least," Lucien sighed. "However rest assured the Listener will almost certainly revoke it as soon as she lays eyes on him."
"Not reassuring," Eola sighed. "So let me get this straight. You want to get your dragon friend sworn in on a technicality so you can sweet-talk Delphine into letting you both stay before she tells you to get out and take your scaly buddy with you?"
Cicero nodded enthusiastically. "That's right! Well, sister? You'll help your poor, devoted brother, won't you?" He smiled hopefully, sidling up to her and peeping out from under his eyelashes.
"Oh yeah, strong and decisive, good one, bro," Eola muttered. She turned to Odahviing, sighing. "All right, Odahviing. So are you serious about being Cicero's dragon lieutenant then?"
"Why would I not be?" said Odahviing, surprised at the question. "He has proven his worth. His Thu'um is strong. He freed us from the tyranny of the World-Eater. It is my honour to assist him."
"But you're a Dovah," said Eola, recalling a few conversations with Paarthurnax. "Aren't you guys meant to be all about the thirst for dominance? Don't you want to be the boss?"
"Indeed," Odahviing growled. "But if the dragon in charge is clearly stronger, it would be foolish to challenge him. I am not a fool and have no wish to die. It was not pleasant the first time. Ziizahro Dovahkiin is the strongest of us all. I will serve him willingly."
"Until he isn't the strongest," said Eola knowingly. Odahviing inclined his head.
"You surmise correctly," Odahviing said. "However, rest assured that should anyone best Ziizahro, Ziizahro is unlikely to have survived the experience. Should Ziizahro die, I will take my leave. I would not harm Ziizahro's friends, not unless they attacked me first."
"See?" said Cicero smugly. "And no one is going to beat Cicero in a fair fight."
"What about an unfair one?" Lucien asked. Cicero's grin got wider.
"All Cicero's fights are unfair," Cicero cackled. "Cicero always cheats!"
Well, wasn't that typical Cicero all over. Eola turned back to Odahviing.
"All right. Has Cicero told you who we are and what we do?"
Odahviing confirmed he had. "I am most interested in aiding an organisation designed for culling the weak amongst the joor," Odahviing said, sounding a bit too eager even for Eola's liking. "I can assure you I am very good at killing things."
"Oh I believe you, buddy, I really do," said Eola. "Did he tell you about the rules?"
"He mentioned something about Five Tenets," said Odahviing. "What are they?"
So Eola explained, with a little help from Lucien and some rather less helpful input from Cicero, what the Five Tenets were and what Odahviing would need to do to keep them. The dragon listened intently until she finished.
"So I would be required to treat the Monahvulon with respect at all times, not betray the Dark Brotherhood or reveal its secrets, not kill any members of it, not steal from them and obey anyone above me in the hierarchy?"
"That's it," said Eola, nodding. "You good with all that?"
"It is no worse than serving Alduin," said Odahviing. "Tell me, who is the Dovahkiin's immediate superior?"
"Cicero serves the sweet Listener!" Cicero cried before anyone could stop him. Eola sighed and turned back to Odahviing.
"There you go, bud. You alright with killing who the Listener tells you to, and not killing anyone she doesn't want you to?"
"Dovahkiin?" Odahviing asked, turning to Cicero, who was bouncing up and down enthusiastically.
"Yes, yes, you must, you must!" he cried. "Listener Delphine hears the Monahvulon's words, and we are sworn to obey her!"
"Until she orders you to kill someone you like, then it's apparently wail and complain until she takes you back just to shut you up," Lucien muttered quietly, but fortunately Cicero didn't hear him.
"OK then," said Eola, suspecting she was probably going to regret this. "Let's swear you in. Lucien, is there an official oath? Delphine didn't really bother with one with me, but if we're going with the whole 'smuggle a dragon into the Dark Brotherhood on a technicality' plan, we don't want get caught out ourselves, hey?"
Sighing, Lucien stood by Eola and fed her the official oath, which she then administered to Odahviing. The dragon swore quite sincerely to love the Night Mother, serve the Dread Father, keep the Tenets and be loyal to his brothers and sisters in Darkness. When it was done, Cicero capered about, squealing and then leaping on to Odahviing's snout, lying spreadeagled inbetween the dragon's eyes and clinging on, singing happily to himself.
"Brother, brother, Odahviing's my brother!" Cicero chanted. "Who is life's most beautiful Dovah? Odahviing, my brother!"
"Lucien, what have we done?" Eola sighed. Lucien was just staring at the sight of Cicero cuddling a dragon and the dragon seeming to like it.
"I'm really not sure," said Lucien. "But the Keeper seems happy at any rate. And as Dark Brotherhood assassins go, I have sworn in worse."
Eola really didn't want to know what Lucien Lachance's definition of worse was.
"Hey Cicero," she called to him. "So now that we've got a dragon on our side, are we going to go kill some Thalmor or what?"
"Yes!" Cicero cried, sliding off Odahviing. "Odahviing, Odahviing, we have come up with a plan to persuade the Listener to love Cicero again and take him back. Will you help us?"
"What do I need to do?" Odahviing asked, curious.
"Fly us across Skyrim to Northwatch Keep and kill lots of Thalmor Elves!" said Cicero, eyes alight. "Then fly us to the Thalmor Embassy, kill everyone there and destroy the place! Then take us to Sky Haven Temple to find Listener Delphine and talk to her. Can you do that?"
"Transport you all over Keizaal and kill lots of people?" Odahviing's lips curved back into a frightening smile that showed all his teeth. "Oh yes, Ziizahro. I think you'll find I can manage that quite nicely."
Another fine morning in the Reach. Clear skies, sunshine, not even that cold considering it was almost the end of the year. Easy to forget there was a Stormcloak army not two hours away laying siege to Markarth. The Stormcloak siege engines were making life difficult for the inhabitants, but it was hard to burn a city made of stone and the Dwemer-built walls held firm. Not only that but a good percentage of both Karthspire and Dead Crone Rock Forsworn camps were now in the city too, bolstering the defences. The Nords might fling fiery missiles over the walls, but there were Hagravens and Briarhearts and other spellcasters on the walls firing right back. Half the siege engines were already in ruins.
Delphine had somehow managed to persuade Ulfric that she'd known nothing of said uprising and that Eola had said nothing to her before mysteriously vanishing one night and next thing Delphine knew the entire Reach was in uproar. Of course, it helped vastly that Eola had actually vanished without trace the night Thongvor died. Delphine had put out feelers to all her contacts, but no one had seen or heard of her. Eola was gone. Delphine missed her horribly. First Cicero gone, now Eola, and she adored them both. Her Dragonborn and her first recruit, the two eager young faces that had been there as she'd taken her first steps as Listener. Best friends to each other... and both far more than that to her. She regretted turning Eola down even as she knew she couldn't have done anything else. She couldn't just give up on Cicero, and taking someone else as a lover would mean doing just that. Certainly it couldn't be Eola. Not Cicero's best friend. He'd never forgive either of them. She couldn't do that to him... or her.
So here she was, alone. Well, not exactly alone. She was training Aventus in archery. The boy was doing quite well. She'd found him a hunting bow and he was proving not to be a bad shot. Needed practice, but he'd learn. Delphine watched fondly as he hit the inner ring for the third time in a row.
"Not bad!" she told him, smiling. "All right, you're getting the hang of it. Now, try it from further back..."
A shadow swept low over them, blotting out the sun as a cool wind chilled them both. Delphine looked up, heart in her mouth.
"Inside! Now!" she shouted at the boy, unshouldering her own bow and cursing her luck at being only in her leather armour. "And get Esbern!" she cried over her shoulder as Aventus fled inside. She took aim, determined to go down fighting. The dragon veered away, releasing something from its mouth as it did so. Its burden crashed to the ground near Delphine. As the dragon flew off, Delphine approached warily, katana out. As she got closer, she fought the urge to be sick as she realised it was a corpse. A chewed, burnt corpse in what looked like Thalmor robes. Gingerly, she nudged it with the tip of her katana and rolled it over. The side of its face that was still intact was a face she recognised. Elenwen the Thalmor Ambassador.
What in the name of Talos...
The ground shook as the dragon landed behind her. Delphine spun round, prepared to fight – but the dragon wasn't attacking. It was just looking curiously at her.
"Greetings," it said, voice deep and rich and sounding like gravel-filled honey. "Have I the honour of addressing Delphine, Huzrah of the Vul Zeymahhe?"
That must mean Listener of the Dark Brotherhood. But how on earth did a dragon know about that?
"Who's asking?" she said, wary. The dragon just tilted its head.
"Forgive me, we have not been introduced, have we? I am Odahviing."
Slowly, Delphine lowered her sword. She knew that name.
"You're the dragon that took Cicero to Skuldafn." Odahviing nodded.
"I am. I was told you were Thur-se-Ziizahro, the one who Ziizahro answers to, and that anyone wishing to join the Vul Zeymahhe must speak with you. So here I am, Huzrahi. Well? May I join you?" He looked at her patiently, clearly awaiting a response.
A dragon. In the Dark Brotherhood. Delphine's brain was trying to wrap her head around that one and failing. Who on earth would come up with an idea like that, it was completely insane. Well, clearly there was only one person likely to think of that. Delphine took a few deep breaths to calm herself. Surely not, he couldn't be...
"Who told you that?" she demanded. "Who told you who I was and how to find me?"
There was a movement off to her left, a flash of black and red and then a voice that had haunted her dreams every night but that she'd not actually heard in person since that night at High Hrothgar.
"I did, Listener."
The world seemed to grind to a halt as she turned to look at the speaker. Cicero. He was there, right there, alive and well and unharmed and breathing and... He was staring at her like a starving man at a steak, eyes wild and hungry but more than anything else, pleading. Slowly he approached until he was only a few feet away, then he lowered his eyes and dropped to his knees, removing the hat and hanging his head, hair falling forward. Behind him, Delphine saw Lucien with his arms folded, acknowledging her with a small smile and next to him... Eola. Eola who met her eyes, smiled briefly then looked away awkwardly. Delphine took another deep breath, hastily looking away. Cicero clearly didn't know, couldn't possibly know or she'd be dead, and Delphine wasn't going to tell him otherwise. Of course, before things got to that stage, she had to find out just what he was doing here, with a dragon who wanted to join the Dark Brotherhood and the corpse of the Thalmor Ambassador.
"Delphine!" Esbern cried, fire blazing from his hands as he rushed outside. "Are you al-" He stopped dead on seeing a non-hostile dragon, a dead Thalmor and a very much alive Cicero on his knees before her, and promptly lowered his hands. Behind him, Aventus stuck his head out of the door, saw Cicero and ran forward, or at least he did until Esbern stopped him.
"Delphine, what in the name of Talos is going on?" Esbern asked, confused. Well, at least she wasn't actually going mad and this was all happening.
"That's what I'm trying to find out," said Delphine, staring at Cicero. "Cicero, why is there a dragon in my courtyard wanting to join the Dark Brotherhood and a dead Thalmor Ambassador on the steps?"
Cicero took a deep breath, still not looking at her directly. Still she could see there was a determination there she'd not often seen before on him, not without a fiendish grin anyway. This time, he looked deadly serious.
"The Listener asked Cicero to kill Paarthurnax and Cicero refused," he said, the barest hint of a tremor in his voice. "Because Paarthurnax is his friend and his ally. Cicero has not done this... and he never will. But he is sorry for it, very sorry indeed that he cannot do his Listener's will in this. However, he was thinking that the Listener wanted Paarthurnax dead because of his past crimes against humans, particularly the ancient Blades. So as Cicero has failed his Listener by not killing Paarthurnax, he decided that he could give her the next best thing. The Listener wants justice for the deaths of innocent humans and of her Blade comrades. Well, Cicero thinks that the Thalmor have killed just as many of both as Paarthurnax ever did, and they killed people Delphine knew. People Delphine loved. So Cicero... Cicero has avenged them."
"You crept into the Thalmor Embassy, killed Elenwen and flew here on a dragon?" Delphine asked, stunned and somehow knowing that wasn't what he'd done. Cicero did look up now, the serious look fading as his usual predator grin re-emerged to take its place.
"Oh no, Listener," he said cheerfully. "Cicero and Eola and Lucien flew to Northwatch Keep prison on Odahviing, killed all the Thalmor there, released the prisoners and then we flew to the Thalmor Embassy, where Odahviing tore the place apart and set fire to it, and Eola, Lucien and I killed all of them!"
Delphine glanced at Esbern to make sure she wasn't hearing things. He was looking as stunned as she felt. Speechless, she looked at Lucien and Eola for confirmation.
"It's true, Listener," Lucien confirmed, wickedly evil smile on his face. "We descended on them like the Wrath of Sithis and soaked the ground in Elven blood."
"Good times! You can see the smoke from here if you look in the right place," Eola grinned, before remembering things were meant to be awkward between her and Delphine, and lowered her eyes.
"It was glorious!" Cicero breathed, eyes ablaze with unholy glee, before he remembered he was supposed to be pleading for forgiveness and swiftly dropped his gaze.
Delphine didn't even know what to say or how she was supposed to react. The Thalmor in Skyrim – wiped out. Their Embassy in ruins. All of them, dead. At the Dragonborn's hands, for no other reason than that it might please his Listener.
"You did all that..." she whispered. "For me?"
Cicero nodded, still not looking at her. "Yes. For you, my Listener. Delphine... sweetling... I cannot kill Paarthurnax. It would not be just or fair. But if it is justice or vengeance on the killers of Blades you want, Cicero can still give you that."
"The Dark Brotherhood doesn't do justice or fairness," she heard herself say.
"No," said Cicero. He finally looked up, tears glittering in his eyes despite the gentle yearning smile on his face. "But you do."
Delphine just about managed to sheathe her sword despite the shaking in her hands and the blurring of her vision. Then she buried her face in her hands, trying desperately to get herself under control before she actually did something ridiculous like start crying.
"Listener?" she heard Cicero say, worried. "Delphine? Oh no, don't cry, please." She was vaguely aware of him staggering to his feet and then he was there, right in front of her and he was taking her in his arms, holding her and stroking her hair and making little soothing noises as he held her... and she was clinging on to him for dear life, tears rolling down her cheeks, too shocked even to sob. All she could process was that her dear jester boy was alive and back and here in her arms, the smell of his leather armour filling her nostrils and the softness of his hair against her face as she held him.
She was vaguely aware of Eola cheering and Lucien saying disdainfully "Far too merciful," but she didn't care. He'd just wiped out the Thalmor presence in Skyrim in one night. Of course they'd be back eventually. But right now, Skyrim was free of them and if Paarthurnax got to live, at least she could be sure that the Blades had been well and truly avenged. Cicero had done all that, and he'd done it for her. The gnawing sense of emptiness and helplessness that had been lurking inside her for the past two months finally faded away as she realised he was hers once more. Her Cicero. Her beloved Dragonborn. Home again.
"I missed you," she whispered. Cicero shivered in her arms and she realised with a pang of guilt that he was crying softly too.
"I'm sorry, Listener," he wept, so quietly she could barely hear him. "I'm so sorry."
"You came back," she said, still not quite able to believe this was really happening, that he was really here.
"Always," he breathed. "I'll always come back for you." Delphine clutched him tighter, remembering the first time he'd made her that promise, right after they'd been given the Motierre job. He hadn't even been her lover then, but if his journal had been anything to go by, he'd definitely had feelings. Speaking of which...
"I read your journal. All of it," she confessed. Cicero winced.
"Cicero is very sorry," he said guiltily. "He never meant for you to see all that. He hopes you're not offended?"
"No," Delphine whispered, stroking his hair. "Oh Cicero, it was the most romantic thing anyone's ever written about me. Don't worry, I didn't show them to anyone else – well, I showed part of one to Esbern but only the Paarthurnax entry. No one else has seen them. Didn't even show them to Eola."
"Please don't," Cicero said nervously, lowering his voice. "Cicero may have written some rather, er, intemperate things in there about his dear sister..."
Delphine had to grin at that. "Don't worry. She won't find out from me. And speaking of siblings..." She let him go, folding her arms as she recalled that he'd only explained one of the two things he'd brought with him. "Cicero, why have you brought a dragon here to a Temple of the Blades? And... why is he asking to join the Dark Brotherhood?"
Cicero went a little pink at this, giggling nervously. "Oh, but Listener, Odahviing is already in the Dark Brotherhood! Any member of the Brotherhood in good standing can swear in a new member! So we swore him in before going to kill all the Thalmor."
"You did what?" Delphine shouted, her goodwill evaporating. Honestly, she knew she'd missed him but right now she was having trouble recalling why. Cicero flinched away... but then he did something unexpected. He folded his own arms, frowned and faced her, determined.
"Yes, Cicero made Odahviing his brother," said Cicero firmly. "Because Cicero likes Odahviing, and Odahviing helped him, both by taking him to Skuldafn and afterwards by helping him find Eola and kill all the Thalmor. Cicero killed Alduin, and Odahviing was so impressed he offered Cicero his services. So Cicero has accepted which means Odahviing is under Cicero's protection now."
Delphine ran a hand through her hair. She should perhaps have guessed something like this might happen. The worst thing was, she wasn't even sure she could do anything about it. She'd never seen Cicero quite this adamant before. Yes, she could pull rank in theory... but she'd lose him in the process. She wasn't sure she could stand to go through all that again.
She turned and looked Odahviing over. The enormous dragon was spread out, taking up the entire courtyard and watching her curiously. She'd never seen a living dragon this close before, certainly not one that wasn't trying to kill her. It was surprising just how much intelligence was in those eyes, mixed with more than a little cruelty. So often they just seemed like beasts as they attacked settlements, it was easy to forget they were sentient. Maybe she needed to remember that a little more often. She had a feeling Cicero never forgot, in fact it was becoming very apparent that not only did he never forget that, he saw dragons as people too. Of course, he also had very little problem killing people.
Maybe that was why he got on so well with dragons.
"So, you want to join up, do you?"
Odahviing nodded. "I have spoken with Ziizahro, Huzrahi. I offered my loyalty to him, and he told me his loyalties lay with you and the Monahvulon. After he had explained, I decided that I might be able to assist you and you might be able to offer me... opportunities."
Delphine could guess what sort of opportunities Odahviing had in mind.
"More opportunities than you could get on your own or taking over where Alduin left off?" she asked. Odahviing snorted, twin jets of smoke dissipating in the air.
"I was caught by joorre like a common beast in a trap," he growled. "Take over from the First-Born? No Dovah worth having as a follower would follow my lead now. And I would not last long on my own. If my fellow Dov did not hunt me, the joorre would. No, I need allies. Protection. Why would I not seek the protection of the strongest of us? Ziizahro's Thu'um is mighty and I have assisted him before now. I will go where he follows, and his path leads to you."
"Not joining up with Paarthurnax then?" she asked. Just to make absolutely sure that Paarthurnax definitely wasn't forming his own army or anything. This time, Odahviing actually laughed, rolling on to his back.
"Hahahahaha! HAHAHAHA!" Odahviing roared. "Oh that is funny, Huzrahi. Tell me another."
"Odahviing!" Cicero shouted. "Do not laugh at poor Paarthurnax!"
"Sorry, Dovahkiin," Odahviing grinned, calming down sufficiently to reply. "I have much respect for the Old One, of course. But if he had his way, we would all be sitting on top of our mountains singing to the sky or meditating on the Rotmulaag or praising the glory of Kaan or whatever he does with himself all day. That is no true path for a Dovah! We are the children of Akatosh, lords of the sky! We hunt, we kill, we feast on our enemies, we shed their blood and kill them with fire! That is what it means to be Dov, Huzrahi. Ziizahro understands this, and that is why I choose to follow him. If following him means submitting to the will of the Monahvulon, then so be it."
Which was exactly why the Akaviri had come to Tamriel to exterminate the last of the dragons, to make the world a safer place for humanity. The whole reason there was a Dragonborn. Delphine had to laugh at that. The gods had played a cruel, cruel joke by gifting the dragon blood to Cicero. The world was arguably safer with dragons in the skies than it was with the Dark Brotherhood prowling the streets. But she couldn't turn back now. Far too much blood on her hands to be welcome anywhere else. In a way, she was in the same situation Odahviing was – following the Dragonborn because there was nowhere else for her to go. At least she'd walked into the trap with her eyes open.
It went against everything she believed in, but then murdering innocents wasn't exactly what she'd dreamed of doing as a child either. Now here she was feeling sorry for a dragon.
"I take it Cicero explained about our organisation and about the Tenets," she said. Odahviing nodded.
"He was most informative, he and his friends Yol-Ah and Lo-Sah-In. They have told me much. I am not to harm any of my new brothers and sisters, I am to kill who you tell me to and only who you tell me, and I will not disrespect the Monahvulon. You need not worry about theft or betrayal either. I would not last long without protection." He looked around the Temple courtyard approvingly. "This is a good strunmah. I can see why Ziizahro missed it."
"It wasn't the Temple Cicero missed, brother," said Cicero, fingers entwining with Delphine's. Delphine squeezed his hand, returning his smile. If she was going to be Listener, she might as well do it with the Dragonborn at her side.
"All right," said Delphine, already thinking how she might make use of a dragon assassin. Happily, one use was already forming. "There's certain criteria new recruits must fulfil before I can approve their membership. Firstly, they must have already proven themselves to be killers without remorse and have at least one murder in their past – well, you're a dragon, we'll take that as a given. Secondly, once we've approached them and they've shown willingness to join and abide by our rules, we send them out on a job to see what they're made of. Just so happens I've got a little job that would be ideally suited to a dragon's talents."
"Delphine, are you out of your mind?" Esbern cried. "He's a dragon!"
"I'd noticed!" Delphine shouted back, rolling her eyes. Honestly, she loved Esbern dearly but really he had no idea the sort of pressure she was under to produce results.
"We're Blades!" Esbern said sternly. "Have you forgotten your oath? It's one thing to decide not to hunt a dragon who's no threat, but hiring one?"
Delphine let go of Cicero's hand, told Odahviing to excuse her and walked over to where Esbern was glaring at her.
"I've not forgotten my oath, Esbern," said Delphine. "To protect, guard and serve the Dragon Blood. Well, I can't protect, guard or look after Cicero if he's walked out on me because I won't have his pet around, even if it is a dragon. So I'm sorry, Esbern, but the dragon stays until or unless he breaks the rules."
"Delphine, the Oath of Allegiance has its limits!" Esbern cried. "I think you can be forgiven for throwing out a Dragonborn who not only befriends dragons but brings them home!"
"Not by me, I couldn't," said Delphine, closing her eyes. "Esbern, I lost any right to judge anyone else or present myself as some paragon of virtue when my sword went through Titus Mede's chest. So Cicero's new best friend is a dragon, so what? His other best friends are a Daedra-worshipping cannibal and the ghost of an unrepentant murderer. We are the Dark Brotherhood, Esbern. We're not Blades, not really. We don't make the world safe for humanity, we're the ones in the shadows making it worse. At least they'll see a dragon coming. I'm sorry, Esbern. But Odahviing is staying. I can't lose Cicero again, I just can't."
Esbern sighed and lowered his eyes, resigned.
"Well, he did kill all the Thalmor, I suppose. Just take care, Delphine. Dragons aren't trustworthy creatures, and this one's only with us because he has to be."
"That's how I started out with Cicero," Delphine said with a smile. "Now look at us."
"Cicero's not a dragon," Esbern pointed out. Delphine glanced over her shoulder to where Cicero was now sitting on the ground next to Odahviing, leaning against the huge dragon's cheek and cooing over his scales.
"Not on the outside, no," said Delphine. "But inside... inside he's a trueborn Dovah all right. Given that, I think it's better for everyone if I keep him where I can see him."
That Esbern had to concede was an excellent point. Sighing, he gave in. Delphine smiled, thanked him and went to gather her assassins. Cicero and Eola were sitting down, both leaning up against Odahviing, with Lucien across from them.
"All right, brothers and sisters, gather round. Now I said we have a contract to work on, and it's another big one, I'm afraid. Cicero, did Eola fill you in on what she knows?"
"She did, she did!" Cicero giggled. "We're going to kill Ulfric Stormcloak! Cicero is so pleased! Sovngarde is a nice place, Ulfric will like it there."
"Quite," said Delphine. Some people visited the afterlife and experienced a spiritual awakening that made them resolve to be a better person. Trust Cicero to visit it and experience a spiritual awakening that made him resolve to kill even more people so they could go there and experience it for themselves. "General Tullius is paying us a large amount of septims to win the war for him, and we're going to do just that. Part of the deal was an independent Reach as run by Madanach – well, we've more or less achieved that, once Ulfric's army is sent packing anyway. We also need to secure the Pale and Eastmarch. Now, I've got Aranea off in Windhelm with Calixto and Sapphire, mingling with the citizens of Windhelm, gathering information, identifying an Imperial-sympathising successor Jarl and ensuring that when the news of Ulfric's demise reaches the city, the transfer of power takes place as peacefully as possible and that nothing unfortunate happens before the Legion can get there. I have Nazir and Babette up in Dawnstar ready to take out Skald the Elder for me."
Cicero raised an eyebrow at Eola who coughed nervously.
"Er... actually, he's, um, kinda dead already. See, I was up there hiding out with them, scouting the place out, and then this big dragon flies overhead, circling the town, drawing every guard in the place after it, shouting 'Yol-Ah! Yol-Ah!' at me and sending shivers down my spine. So I ran inside the Hall to get away from it and happened to find the Jarl and his housecarl as the only two around..."
"That's where you were hiding!" Delphine realised. "So you killed Skald already. In that case, I owe you money. And that dragon..." She looked up at Odahviing.
"It was me," Odahviing grinned. "Ziizahro wanted to find his sister and it's easier for a Dov to search than a joor when there's an entire country to cover."
"I thought so!" Eola laughed. "Well, it's a good thing you were there. Thanks, bro."
"You're welcome, sister," Cicero began to say, up until Eola nudged him in the side.
"Wasn't talking to you, I was talking to Odahviing!" She patted the dragon's side, leaning up against him. Delphine smiled despite the tugging at her heartstrings. It was harder than she'd thought to have Eola here again, especially with Cicero here as well and the two of them clowning around like neither had ever been away.
"OK, so the Pale's already sorted out," said Delphine firmly. "Which just leaves us with a rebel Jarl of Windhelm to kill and a siege of Markarth to relieve. All of which just got manifestly easier thanks to our new friend here."
"Ooh!" Cicero cried. "Are we going to swoop down on the Stormcloak army and slaughter them all? Please say yes!"
"Yes," said Delphine, feeling her heart leap as Cicero shrieked and threw himself on her, declaring her the best Listener ever. Delphine caught him and held him as he slid on to her lap, cupping her face in his hands and claiming her lips. Delphine could feel herself melting, giving in as she pulled him to her and began kissing him back. Sithis, but he felt so good, so right in her arms. She'd missed him so much – couldn't believe he was finally here again. Soon, soon they'd be doing the Night Mother's will together – and more than that afterwards when she finally took him to bed again. But first, the preparations. She broke off the kiss, smiling as he nestled against her, as happy as she'd ever seen him.
"All right, here's what we need to do," she said. "It's nine am now. Cicero, I need you and Lucien to fly up to Windhelm and deliver a message to Aranea for me. Just tell her we're doing it today, and she's to be ready. Then get back here and pick up Eola. Eola, get rid of that corpse, get some rest, be ready for Cicero when he returns with Odahviing. At midday, all three of you get on Odahviing's back, fly to Markarth, touch down in the middle of the Stormcloak camp outside Ulfric's tent and start killing everything that moves. Odahviing, can you fly from here to Windhelm and back in three hours?"
Odahviing just looked rather pityingly at her. "All right, forget I asked," said Delphine. "Right, assassins. Let's go kill a Jarl."
Chapter End Notes
Next chapter - epic bad-assery from start to finish! Excited? You should be...