Tirdas 1 Morning Star 203 4E 10:00 PM

"What was he even thinking?" I complained. Babette and I were patching up various family members' clothes and armor in the main room. For some strange reason, assassins' clothes tended to get lots of tears and bloodstains in them. Normally I wouldn't be doing chores on a holiday, but this was no typical day and I needed to do something with my hands.

After my outburst with Cicero, I had come back to Sanctuary and barricaded myself in my room. Then I had crawled into my bed and buried myself in my sleeping furs. I've done this ever since I was a little girl; whenever I get angry I would seclude myself until I calmed down. I always think that I'm going to shut myself away for a few hours, but only minutes after wrapping my blanket around me I would be restless and want to go back out again. I would force myself to stay in the darkness until I calmed down. It's very stupid and childish, but it always helped settle me.

My thoughts were racing between the news of the fake Dragonborn and Cicero's declaration. I didn't want to think about either and squeezed my eyes shut. "Just go to sleep," I muttered to myself, "Just don't think and go to sleep."

When I woke up, it was evening. Aventus had spent the day alone; none of the others had come back yet and Babette had slept. I felt terrible that the boy had to spend the holiday by himself. "I'll make it up to you tomorrow," I promised as I tucked him into bed.

"It's okay. I understand adult stuff was going on. It happens. I remember sometimes my mom had to do adult stuff with strange men," Aventus said. He yawned unabashed with his mouth open wide. "Can we go sledding tomorrow?"

"Sure," I said with a small smile. Although small, Aventus wouldn't be a boy much longer with all the hardships life had thrown at him time and time again. Maybe things would work out for Babette and him.

Nazir and Meena had returned shortly afterward, but there was still no sign of Cicero. I thought about looking for the Fool, but felt it wouldn't be a good idea until I decided what I was going to do with him. Once I had calmed down, part of me rationalized that Cicero's attitude wasn't undesirable. I didn't have to worry about any awkward romantic desires from the Keeper. Anything between us would be purely business. Yet, it still didn't settle well with me.

I didn't want my funny, strange, adoring amber eyed Fool to only see the Listener.

After Babette rose for the evening, I told Meena and her about my conversation with Cicero. It was strange to have girl talk with a cat and child, but they were good listeners. At least Babette was. "What is wrong with Meena?" I asked looking at the Khajiit.

The calico was staring into space with her mouth slightly open and chittering. Her pupils were huge black orbs; they were so large I could barely make out her green irises. Meena's tail twitched uncontrollably.

"Oh, Nazir gave her catnip for New Life," Babette said nonchalantly. Khajiit shared more physical traits with felines than the races of men and mer. For example, Skooma, refined moon sugar, is a highly addictive drug for most races, but Khajiit need it as part of their daily diet or they get sick. Babette had made a large quantity of Skooma for Meena for New Life. I could only guess Nazir had expanded on the idea and had given the catkin a spice-like gift.

"Shush! Do you hear that?" Meena jumped to her feet and ran to the nearest wall. She started to lick it, "By Sheggorath, it tastes like strawberries!" Sheggorath was the Khajiit name for Sheogorath, the Mad God. He was a highly revered god to the Khajiit which might account for why they are typically regarded as a bit off.

I couldn't help but laugh at Meena's bizarre behavior. I started to think of telling Cicero, but squashed the thought. I sighed as I turned back to my mending of my leather armor.

"It is not that bad," Babette said bringing me back to our previous topic. "I think he was sweet actually."

"For following his duty?" I asked bitterly.

Babette laughed with amusement no child could copy. "Sister, you are not the first to lament her love life to me." I started to protest to the phrase 'love life', but Babette held up her hand for me to not interrupt. "I have heard many stories over the years, some sad and many exaggerated. I can say with some pride that as outside opinion, I have learned to pick up on little details. You have definitely missed the most important part of what Cicero was trying to tell you."

"Which was?"

"That he had put aside his duty for one night for you when you were in Breezehome," Babette smiled and winked knowingly.

"Cicero admitted that it was a one night stand," I replied. How much easier for both of us if that had just been the case instead of whatever strange dance the two of us had ended up in.

"Exactly!" Babette rolled her eyes at my blank expression. "Cicero has said he has taken care of the Night Mother for over a decade. He told you as Keeper he feels that he is always on duty and will not indulge in vice. No wine, no women, nothing. And just for one night, before you became Listener mind you, he thought he would lay with a woman because she had 'kind eyes'. How much more of a compliment do you want?"

"Oh," I said in a small voice. "I've been unfair, haven't I?"

"You are a little stressed right now with this false Dragonborn business," Babette conceded, "but you really must not let it get to you. The past is the past. Let Ulfric use the name or kill the pretender, either way make a decision and be done with it."

"Daughter," the Night Mother's voice filled my mind. I looked up to where the large black coffin resided on the loft above. I had not even considered that the Lady could hear our conversation and worried what she thought of her favorite son's indiscretion. A long pause followed causing me to wonder if I had somehow imagined Mother's voice. "Cicero is in your room."

The Night Mother rarely contacted me unless she was giving me a contract or praising us for a kill well done. What could have drawn her attention enough to talk to me?

"Excuse me," I said as I stood. Babette looked at me quizzically, but did not say anything. She had seen me look at the Night Mother's coffin and was wise enough to realize I had heard something unspoken.

I wasn't sure what to expect when I entered my sleeping chambers. Had Cicero decided he wanted revenge for my rejection of him earlier? Would he be naked on my bed?

I gasped in wonder when I saw that my room was festooned with many bouquets of white winter lilies. Almost every surface wad covered with flowers. Red snowberries adorned each one like blood splatters of a murder scene.

How had Cicero gotten into my room without me seeing? I had been working in front of the secret entrance glass paned window in the main room and the normal entrance did not lead directly here. Was there another passageway I didn't know about?

Cicero straightened from arranging a setting on my bed. At first I thought he was flushing from embarrassment, but then I saw that the Keeper's hands were also an angry red color. Cicero must have been outside all day gathering flowers with no protection from the bitter winter cold.

Cicero started to stumble to me, but his legs gave out under him. I ran to him and held him. The jester's eyes were glassy. I had expected Cicero to feel hot; he always felt hot. But his body felt cool to the touch, much like the Night Mother.

"Listener," Cicero mumbled with his head against my shoulder, "I figured out what I did wrong. I wasn't supposed to kiss you like I did. I disobeyed an order."

"Fool!" I said. "Only you would have come to that conclusion." I shook him. "Don't fall asleep. Babette!"

"Tired," Cicero muttered. His forehead glistened with sweat. "Listener is always telling Cicero he needs to sleep more."

"Babette, I need you!" I yelled again. Where was that girl? I started to tear Cicero's frozen clothes off his body. One of the first things I learned coming to Skyrim was how to deal with frostbite. He needed warmth and the frozen cloth was only stealing it away. I pulled open my own clothes and pressed my body against his. I hissed from the cold against my bare skin.

"Oh, now the Listener wishes to be naked with Cicero, ha ha ha," Cicero laughed.

Babette came running in with her healer's kit. It had been less than a minute, but it felt forever. "Put him in the bed," she commanded. "Use the furs to help warm him."

"I don't know if I can pull him up by myself," I said as I pulled the semi-conscious Keeper to my bed.

"You're going to have to," Babette said as she rooted through her bag for the potion she wanted. "I'm not exactly built for manual labor, Meena is still out of it, and Nazir's room is too far away. We need Cicero off the cold floor."

"Get up!" I said as I pulled on Cicero with my hands under his armpits. Following the command in my voice, the Keeper managed to get his feet underneath him enough to push himself mostly onto the bed. I dragged Cicero's boots off as Babette scrambled across the bed with a vial.

"Drink!" she said as she tipped the liquid down Cicero's throat.

"Augh, gross," Cicero complained as he flailed weakly. I dodged as Cicero almost kicked me in the head with his movement.

"I'll see if I can bring Meena down enough to help," Babette said as she climbed off the bed. "Meanwhile keep up with what you're doing. Once he's stripped, climb into the bed to add your body heat. Good job!" With that last bit of encouragement, the vampire child ran out of the room.

After I managed to undress an unhelpful Cicero, I shucked my own clothes and climbed in with him as instructed. Cicero kept muttering to himself, all I could make out was, "Oooh, Listener," before he burrowed his head between my breasts. His body was still cold, but his face was burning up.

I wrapped my arms around him. "You idiot," I grumbled over and over. "Idiot, idiot, stupid idiot."

Meena wobbled into the room, her eyes still unfocused. "Little one said this one was needed," her voice slurred.

"Climb in on the other side of Cicero," I ordered.

Meena followed my command, but not before she managed to hit me in the face with her swishing tail a couple of times. As the Khajiit settled down, she looked at me in the eyes and said with all seriousness, "Don't worry, we won't let the mudcrabs win victory."

"I really hope this is not prophetic of how the rest of the year is going to be," I sighed.

Babette returned shortly with warmed towels. "Gradual heat is the best we can do for the frostbite. I would be surprised if Cicero does not have pneumonia. I will know for certain tomorrow. If that is the case, we may not be able to move him for a few days." Babette glanced around my room and took in all the flowers. "Well, well, I must say the Keeper knows how to impress. You think he may give Aventus a few tips? Have to train them while they are young, you know."

"Har, har," I replied. Cicero was mumbling incoherently as I stuffed the towels under the sleeping furs. "What about keeping him awake?"

"Rest is better right now," Babette said. She pulled up the blankets at the foot of the bed and checked Cicero's feet. "Toes look fine. Cicero probably took cold in his chest rather than his feet or hands; he does wear warm boots and gloves. He is plenty warm with the furs, towels, Meena, and you. I can check on the lot of you through the night. Try to not have too much fun," Babette smirked as she left.

"Not likely," I said looking at Meena who was rubbing her chin happily against Cicero's face. I could hear her purring loudly. Cicero was giggling in response. "By Mara, I hope not at least."

Morndas 14 Morning Star 203 4E 3:00 PM

Cicero did have pneumonia.

Cicero did have to stay in my room.

He was the worst patient ever.

The first three days weren't too bad. Cicero slept pretty much the whole time. When I had first met the jester, I thought he was three or four years older than me putting him around thirty-five. But when Cicero slept, he always had a worried look on his face that I never saw when he was awake and suddenly my Keeper looked ten years older. I felt like time had been stolen away that I would never get back.

Cicero talked in his sleep; he cried to people I didn't recognize. "Garnag, where did you go, brother?" "Pontius killed by a common bandit; how tragic!" "Rasha, false, fake, liar!" "Alisanne Dupre, oh, blessed daughter." "Andronica, poor sister, poor, poor sister." There were many more names, but I couldn't keep track of them all.

Alisanne interested me the most. She was the only one Cicero said the full name and never only her first name. The woman must have made quite the impression on Cicero. The tone he used for her name was always with respect and reverence. Who had she been to be remembered so well? Maybe his mentor for when he joined the Brotherhood? The head of his Sanctuary?

I spent most of my days by the bed and watched Cicero. I replaced damp clothes and changed sweat soaked bedclothes with Nazir's help. Meena kept offering her "assistance", but I just chased her out of my room every time.

I did make time to go sledding with Aventus that first day. Cicero would want me to keep a promise; keeping promises was important to him. I had fun, but my attention kept drifting back to Cicero. Aventus noticed. "Go on back," he offered as he held the large wooden plank we had used. "I'll get Meena to help me hunt some rabbits. She likes how they scream."

"You're a good kid," I ruffled his short brown hair before I ran back to Sanctuary.

When Cicero finally woke up and not in delirium, he was in a bad mood. The jester was flushed from fever and hungry, but mostly he was mad that I wouldn't allow him to get up and attend to the Night Mother's coffin.

"Cicero is the Keeper; he must keep the Night Mother," Cicero complained shrilly.

"The Night Mother understands that you're sick," I said trying to offer Cicero a bowl of broth. He disdained it and turned his nose up at it. "Surely you've been sick before and needed to take a break. Let someone else watch the shrine for a day or two."

"No, never!" Cicero was aghast. "Cicero always, always takes care of Mother. If loyal Cicero is sick with a cough, he covers his mouth and is very, very careful to not befoul Mother with his sickness."

"Well, you're going to have to take some time off for being sick," I said offering the bowl again.

"You just don't want me to do my job!" Cicero accused me. He slapped the bowl out of my hand spilling hot broth all over me. I almost slapped him across the face but managed to refrain. It was only barely though. "You tried to keep me away from Mother before too!"

"If you hadn't acted like a fucking maniac, then I wouldn't have had to do that!" I yelled back.

The two of us glared at each other; feelings hurt and pride stung. I held my hands up in surrender. "Go then, I won't stop you."

Cicero glared at me unsure if I was trying to trick him or if I was sincere. He watched me cautiously as he slipped out of the bed. The Fool of Hearts smiled smugly as he stood, but his victory was short lived as he lost his balance and fell. I stood to help him, but he pushed me away. "Cicero doesn't need your help. Cicero is used to doing things on his own." His face was turned away from me so I couldn't see his face.

"I know," I said as I sat by him, "but I'm here now. Let me take care of you for a change."

"Would that make the Listener happy?" Cicero asked me. He turned so we were face to face. "Can Cicero serve by allowing to be served?" His hopeful expression made me sad. Cicero had been Keeper for so long he really didn't know how to be anything else.

"We'll see," I said. Cicero rested his head on my shoulder.

"Did Hecate like the flowers?"

"Yes, just next time be more careful. I don't want you sick like that again."

"Next time?" Cicero smiled slyly. "The Listener wishes for more of the same?"

Caring for Cicero went a little smoother after that, but once the jester decided he was going to be needy he decided he was going to be very needy. Constantly I had to fluff his pillow, bring more juice, talk to him, sing with him, and so on. It was enough for me to scream. It didn't help that I was pretty certain that Cicero was doing it primarily to get a reaction out of me.

The Keeper would frequently ask me to let him visit Mother, but I had to refuse. Nazir was out on contract and I didn't want to risk Cicero relapsing without help around. Finally, after almost two weeks, Babette declared Cicero was well enough to up and about again.

"Now Cicero can see Mother?" Cicero asked, his eyes shining with excitement. One would think he hadn't seen her in years instead of weeks.

"Let me finally cut your hair and you can go," I said as I pulled a chair over. "It won't take but a second."

As Cicero settled into the seat, I picked up his fine red hair. I bunched it with my fist and ran the scissors across so it was cut shoulder length again. Cicero snorted, "Hecate wasn't kidding about it only taking a second. Most people take some time to trim and shape the hair."

"Do it yourself next time then," I said sharply. I handed him the cut locks which were about six inches long. I had put off cutting Cicero's hair for quite a while. "Here."

"What is Cicero supposed to do with that?" he looked between the hair and me confused.

"Make it into a braid and give it to someone you love," I teased.

"Ooooh, Cicero will do that for Mother!" He quickly braided the hair together. "Cicero knows exactly where to put it too."

The Fool jumped up to get a ribbon for the hair. He sprinted out of the room, but quickly came back. I was putting the chair back with my end table. "Forget something?"

"Just this," Cicero gave me a quick kiss on the lips. "Thank you for taking care of Cicero." Then he was gone again a red blur.