Hello everyone. I'm sorry this chapter took so long to get out. I just started the new semester of school, and it usually takes me the first month to get situated. Also, I'm sorry that this chapter is a bit on the short side. I held onto it for weeks trying to figure out how to extend it, but I think it's better if I just leave it the way it is. I hope you enjoy it either way. :)

Reviews are always appreciated.

Cicero had to tend to Mother the moment they returned to Dawnstar. He had to scrub the iron coffin clean, oil the leathery corpse, right down the tiniest cranny. The work was monotonous and repetitive and it allowed his mind to wander. The jester had been chattering incessantly since the return from Riften, and it was difficult to think past the continual nonsense. Whenever Cicero was distracted by the Listener, however, the jester's train of thought immediately ran to follow the Redguard. It was becoming increasingly frustrating and irritating. He was used to the Listener being at the forefront of his mind –it was the Listener! – but this was different than just obsessively worrying about her safety or making sure she was doing what was best for the Night Mother. It had become a festering, painful desire to discover what the Listener was hiding. Who she was hiding.

The trip from Riften all the way back to Dawnstar had been too long. If it had been shorter by a few days then perhaps Cicero wouldn't be so infected by the desire. The lack of sharing that Karma had partaken in on the return journey had been infuriating. The jester had posed prying questions as carefully as he could, but the Listener always turned them away with some sarcastic remark or pretended not to hear him. The blatant refusals only made the need to have the answers worse, but Karma didn't seem to want to answer him anytime soon.

Upon returning to the Sanctuary, Karma had consulted Babette for the proper care of her wrist. The vampire child had given her something for the pain and something to make the swelling go down. Within a few more days she was able to use it again, though not to its full range of motion. It had been badly sprained and she'd need to be gentle with it and stretch the tendons carefully. Babette wrapped it up properly and for the next few days Karma had been mostly unable to use her left hand. When the wrappings came off and her wrist was back to a normal size, Karma had taken up her bow and left the Sanctuary for a bit of practice and stretching. Cicero, normally so close to her side, had stayed behind to tend to Mother and complain to her about the Listener's secrecy.

The jester wouldn't be so interested in the Listener beyond her station and the happiness of Mother if it wasn't for that damn peeling, cracking, half held together false face.

A week later, Mallory and a few choice people arrived in Dawnstar. Karma allowed them to enter the Sanctuary, appeasing the door in a whisper, and the renovations began. Nazir and Babette were happy to finally see things moving forward, but Cicero was on edge. There were too many people outside of the Brotherhood within an arm's length of his Mother, and every time someone came too close he would get twitchy and irritable. The builders mostly stayed away from him, probably because those amber eyes shaded by dark circles were intimidating even when they weren't threatening injury. He hovered obsessively by the iron coffin and became increasingly irritated when Karma wasn't within his line of sight. These strangers in their home were unwelcome in his eyes even if they had been contracted by the Listener.

Karma was aware of the stress that the renovation was putting on her Keeper. Though she was careful not to show it, she didn't like to have these people in her new Sanctuary either. But in order for the Brotherhood to be rebuilt, there had to be a place for them to live. There had to be a room for beds, a kitchen space, space for Babette's alchemy, weapon's racks, shelves for books and items, chests for belongings. They had to muscle through this leg if they wanted to move forward, and Karma was willing to do just that. It had been something Astrid had not done, and Karma would have none of it on her watch.

It was only a matter of time before the stress boiled over.

The insistent mutterings of Mallory's workers were often less than appreciated by the four members of the new Brotherhood. They made no effort to hide the fact that they fully expected the Dark Brotherhood to die off, what with how pathetic it was now with only four people and little hope of returning to its former, terrifying glory. It was irritating, but bearable. Karma, Nazir, Babette, and Cicero had heard far worse insults in their time and they were willing to ignore it. But Cicero could not ignore the insult that one worker let slip, a snide comment about the Dark Brotherhood worshipping a disgusting corpse, probably a corpse of some common whore that had been used for decades to control a band of assassins. It had been foolish of the man to say it within the Keeper's earshot.

Cicero was upon the man before anyone could blink, screaming obscenities. His gloved hands clenched around the builders' neck, squeezing viciously. He meant to crush the windpipe and let the man suffer, but two others pulled him away. He struggled against their hands, kicking at the shocked and downed builder, howling with unbridled rage. The screaming alerted everyone within the Sanctuary that something had gone wrong, and within moments Nazir, Mallory, and Karma were standing in the room and surveying the scene.

Karma, immediately on edge, demanded that the builders release Cicero. She stood before him, placing both of her hands on his chest, her expression firm but worried. The crazed anger in his eyes was familiar. She'd seen a subdued version of it when Astrid had been alive – every doubt of the Night Mother had put that fury into the Keeper. She could tell he was at war with himself, wanting to obey her but wanting to attack the builder who was still sitting on the ground in shock. Karma slid her hand up to touch his cheek, her eyebrows furrowing harshly over her dark eyes. Only one thing could enrage Cicero like this, and that was…

She turned slowly, regarding the man on the floor with a dull expression.

"…did you insult the Night Mother?"

The words held little emotion. Her voice was stony and hostile. It sent a shiver down Cicero's spine. He swallowed down the sour taste in his mouth and watched her, ignoring the jester screaming in the background, screaming for blood and revenge and Mother's honor. The builder stared at the small Redguard woman for a moment. He was unimpressed by her; that much was easy see; he was unimpressed and not at all intimidated. So he felt it proper that he toss his head arrogantly and meet her eyes with equal hostile fire,

"What does it matter? If you've deluded yourself into believing that a corpse speaks to you, what good does reasoning serve?" He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "I'll not believe a word of it. All of the different races have their legends, and your talking corpse is no different than any of the tales my mother told me to keep me in bed after dark."

Karma's eyes were wider than normal, her eyebrows hidden beneath the fringe of badly-cut bangs that obscured her forehead. It was unnerving when she smiled, the slow spread of her lips bringing a scary sort of gleam to her eyes. And Cicero could see it, plain as day, the mask completely gone. Karma had stripped herself raw before his eyes without her even knowing it, without her even thinking about it. The others couldn't see it. Not like he could. They were staring with mixtures of fear and confusion and uncertainty; Cicero was the only one with awe etched into his features.

"I didn't pay you to come into my home and insult my Mother." Karma tilted her head and her smile tilted as well, into a smirk. The space between her eyebrows wrinkled with anger and her eyes narrowed, though the smirk stayed firmly in place. The man on the floor seemed unnerved and even leaned away from Karma when she closed the space between them. She crouched on the floor next to the builder, reaching up with her newly healed hand to cup his cheek. His eyes flicked from her face to rapidly search her body for weapons – but she was at home in the Sanctuary, and all of them had been discarded. He visibly relaxed upon realizing that she was unarmed and met her eyes with a fierce determination not to feel intimidated by the tiny Redguard woman.

She stayed still for a while, which was why it was such a shock when her hand slid down to cup his throat and, with startling force, slammed him down to the floor. Her knee landed squarely on his chest, pinning him down. The builder protested loudly but Karma silenced him with a hand on his mouth and a shake of her head. Mallory seemed uncomfortable with it all and stepped forward, but the Redguard shot him such an intense glare that he actually backed off. Everyone was full of tension, muscles tight as a bowstring. Cicero was so wound that he was physically trembling, unable to tear his eyes from the spectacle before him. Karma brushed her fingers though the man's hair, almost like a lover would, before cupping her hands to both sides of the builder's face,

"…No one speaks badly about our Unholy Matron. Do you understand me?" Her voice was light and conversational, as if she were talking with an old friend. "She is the leader of the Dark Brotherhood, the wife of Sithis, and she gives us guidance. I will not tolerate anyone who insults her."

It was so unexpected that no one saw it coming. The builder screamed in pain and shock as Karma dug her fingers into his left eye. He struggled wildly, trying desperately to push her off, but the Redguard was immovable. Blood and fluids poured from the socket as the eye burst, but Karma wasn't satisfied until it had been completely gouged out. The wet plop of the deflated sphere landing on the floor was stomach churning, as was the blood still gushing out from around the man's fingers as he tried to stem the flow. Karma finally rose to her feet. Her smile was still in place.

"The next time, I will kill you." She said, almost sweetly. Her eyes roamed across Mallory and the other five builders, all frozen and staring, "And if any of you are smart, you won't speak of the Night Mother again. You will complete the job I paid you to do and then you will leave."

The smile faded from her lips and she turned away, pacing out of the room. Cicero watched her go, just as frozen as the others. He was still standing still when the builders jumped into motion, hauling their injured buddy to his feet and starting to tend to the wound. Three of them hustled back to work and Mallory left to supervise them. Nazir seemed unsettled but unconcerned and turned away as well. The jester was laughing and screaming with a burning mirth. His Listener let herself slip and tortured a man in Mother's honor…and it had been the most amazing and attractive thing he had ever seen. The desperation to see more of that person beneath the mask had been sated, but it had been increased again by leaps and bounds. With the jester so wild, Cicero fled to Mother's side, desperate to talk it out. Though he would never hear Mother's voice, that was a pleasure only Karma could know, the Night Mother was still the highest in his regards. Always would be.

"Oh, dear, sweet Mother…how did you pick such an amazing Listener? How? Do you see what she is? What she's been hiding? She's not hiding anymore, Mother, do you see?"