Morndas 7 Rain's Hand 4E 204 9:00 AM
I was reviewing the reports from around Skyrim that Nazir had gathered from his contacts. Mostly I was focusing on how the Civil War was progressing. Falkreath had finally fallen in late autumn of last year. Fort Neugrad should have been an easy victory, especially after the grueling campaign against Whiterun the year before.
However, thanks to the whispers I had placed in the right ears, some folk were uneasy about the supposed Dragonborn assisting Ulfric's rebellion. She had arrived late in the siege against Balgruuf and had provided invaluable morale to the troops in helping defeat him, but since then the pretender had been hiding in Windhelm instead of leading the charge on the field.
There was only one reason for that: she could not produce a thu'um, a dragon shout. I had frequently used my shouts wherever I went when I was the Dragonborn. Many people did not know me by name or face because of the obscuring dragon scale helm I used to wear, but too many could remember the raw power of my Voice as I used the whirlwind sprint to dart from shop to shop whenever I stopped in a village for supplies.
It had been a few months since I checked up on the Civil War. The new recruits needed a lot of attention and I felt it was important to know each of them personally. Time passed so quickly when I wasn't watching it. I cannot believe only six months ago there were only seven of us and now we were swollen to thirteen.
I was displeased to see a report stating that a wagon loaded with silver and weapons from Markarth headed to Solitude had been waylaid by Stormcloak rebels. No doubt Ulfric had quietly arranged that little ambush and was profiting quite nicely from the influx of free weapons and increase of wealth. It was a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but small victories often feed into large ones over time.
Now Stormcloak soldiers had gathered on the fields before Fort Sungard, the Imperial military outpost near Markarth in the Reach. I gasped as I read the reports that the Dragonborn was on the field leading and fighting with her large two handed sword. And there were witnesses, Imperial soldiers, who saw her use the thu'um!
Impossible! Impossible! Those reports had to be wrong. False rumors planted by Ulfric. I reread the scrolls. "The Dragonborn shouted and I fell away from her through the air." "I saw three men fly upward like ragdolls in the wind." "She was surrounded by soldiers and then suddenly the area around the Dragonborn was empty as men fell under her voice." "The rumors were wrong. This is the true Dragonborn. May the Eight have mercy on us."
The pretender must have managed to master fus, force. It was possible for a person of strong will like Ulfric and the Greybeards to learn the dragon language, but that took years of study. But how? How had Ulfric managed to find someone similar to my build and train her so quickly? One year's time in the midst of campaigning a war? Unbelievable.
Maybe the Greybeards had agreed to mentor the woman. I found that unlikely. They were pacifists and steadfast against taking sides in the war. Far away from the world of men in their monastery in High Hrothgar, they wanted nothing but to contemplate the Way of the Voice as taught to them by ancient Paarthurnax.
This had gone on for long enough. I was going to personally put a stop to this. I had waited in my Sanctuary confident that the truth would be revealed on its own. Now that the woman had figured out my trademark thu'um, she and Ulfric would succeed in bringing Skyrim to their closed-minded way of thinking. I didn't care if they did it on their own, but I'd be damned to the Void before I let them do it using my name.
I felt strangely calm. I was seething, but it felt like a fire controlled in the forge waiting to melt steel to make a masterwork blade instead of the normal inferno of rage I had to struggle with constantly. I stood up from the table where I had been reading the reports and went to my room. There I calmly picked up Styx, the daedric long bow I had been given by the Brotherhood. I strapped it to my back before adding an ebony dagger Cicero had given me for my most recent birthday. It had not yet tasted blood. I intended to change that fact.
"I'm going out," I told Nazir. "You and Garnag are in charge when he gets back."
Garnag was out on contract with Aventus. The two of them made a good team. Aventus could easily get close to his targets while Garnag could provide cover from attacks with his alternation magic. When Aventus had left for his first contract, Garnag had been the boy's backup. Both of them were as excited as could be.
Turdas 3 Frostfall 203 4E 3:15 PM
"Be safe, Aretino," I had told Aventus as I reached to hug him goodbye. I couldn't believe that he was almost as tall as me now.
"I'll keep him safe, Listener," Garnag promised.
"Love you, sister," Aventus said, his expression solemn but his eager eyes betraying him.
"I love you, too," I kissed the boy on the forehead. "Kill well and often."
I had butterflies in my stomach until they came home a week later.
Aventus did a fine job retelling the tale with many poses and gestures. The boy was almost thirteen now and almost a man. I thought I would enroll him in the Bard's College for the final stretch of his training. Aventus had a natural gift for storytelling, singing and making friends. I didn't doubt some of that was from all the time he liked to spend with Cicero. Well, the first two anyway.
Morndas 7 Rain's Hand 4E 204 9:00 AM
"I'll be heading down towards Markarth, so it will be about a week before I come back," I continued.
"I don't recall there being any contracts that way," Nazir said, frowning.
"There aren't. I'm going on personal business."
"Kill well and often," Nazir said bidding me farewell. He had read the reports before I received them; he had to know what I was planning. I waved and headed towards the exit.
Before I left Sanctuary, I paused before the Night Mother's shrine. "If you are going to stop me, now would be the time," I told my matron. There was absolutely no profit in the mission I was about to undertake. I waited a few minutes but the only reply was silence.
I turned to leave and saw Cicero standing a few feet away holding his cleaning supplies for the Night Mother's shrine. "Where are you going?" he asked looking at my bow. "Did Mother give you a special contract?"
"No. I am going down to Fort Sungard and I am going to kill the fake Dragonborn," I said simply. I was a little scared by how calm and cold my voice was. Years of trying to find serenity to master the thu'um and all it took was an identity thief.
The jester stepped forward so that he was a hand's breadth away from me. "Let Cicero accompany you. The Listener always does better when she has someone to watch her back." I was glad we were in front of Mother; Cicero wouldn't try to touch me in front of her. And then I wouldn't have to flinch away.
It had been about a month since Cicero told me that he loved me. I stayed up all that night agonizing about his declaration, but the next day the Fool acted as if nothing had changed. I had come to the conclusion that he must have confused me with the Night Mother. That had to be what he whispered to her when he finished his weekly oiling. I couldn't imagine Cicero saying anything else to his goddess.
Despite assuring myself, I felt uncomfortable with Cicero now. I had discontinued the nightly massages and tried to avoid the Keeper whenever possible. I found myself stiffening or jerking away whenever he touched me. It did not go unnoticed.
Morndas 31 First Seed 204 4E 12:00 PM
"Has Cicero done something wrong?" Cicero asked. He had brought me lunch while I was working on some reports in my room. When his hand touched mine, I jerked away.
"Why do you ask?" I replied mentally hitting myself. Cicero knew me well enough to know that when I redirected a question with another question I was being evasive.
"Garnag talked to you, didn't he?" Cicero asked, his voice scaling upward. "Tell Cicero!"
"Why would Garnag talk to me?" I asked confused by Cicero's reaction. I realized my response wasn't helping anything, but I sincerely didn't know what the jester was talking about.
"Garnag told you why Mother forgave Cicero and Garnag," the Keeper was yelling. "Mother forgave us, that is all that matters. Hecate shouldn't hate Cicero."
"I don't know what you're talking about," I said. I wanted to wrap my arms around Cicero and comfort him, but I couldn't bring myself to touch him. I couldn't feed into whatever he felt for me. If I stayed cold to him long enough, Cicero would realize his feelings were just something momentary or hormonal and let it go.
"Don't lie to me!" Cicero screamed. He was shaking all over and his face was red.
"I'm not lying! Garnag hasn't said anything to me about whatever your punishment was or what it was for, although now I'm starting to wonder. You've never felt guilty for anything you've ever done," I yelled back.
"Cicero doesn't feel guilty. Cicero did what had to be done. Cicero just doesn't want the Listener to act like she's better than him with her morals." The jester backed away with his fists clenched.
"I have never acted like I was better than anyone here," I said stunned by the accusation. How long had Cicero felt that way?
"Yes, you do! 'It's wrong. They're innocent. I don't like that.' Hecate likes to forget she is an assassin like the rest of us," Cicero mocked me pitching his voice just like mine.
"Keeper, you are dismissed," I growled pointing towards my door. Cicero turned and stomped out of my room. I followed him to make sure he didn't lash out at any of the initiates. It had happened before, especially if he perceived the slightest fault of their behavior around the Night Mother's shrine.
Thankfully, the Keeper went straight to his room. I heard things being broken behind the door, but I left him alone. They were his possessions and he could clean up the mess afterwards.
"Geldii," I called to the bosmer who was walking past, "watch the Keeper for a bit. If he comes out of his room and looks like he is going to strangle someone, tackle him and send someone to get me."
"Yes, ma'am," the slight elf said saluting cheerfully. She had a bubbly nature that seemed so out of place with the steel armor she wore.
Morndas 7 Rain's Hand 4E 204 9:30 AM
"Maybe I should take one of the initiates," I said trying to sound casual. The thought of being alone with Cicero for a prolonged period of time both thrilled and scared me. I missed the two of us talking, laughing, and dancing. There was no time for that now with so many people in Sanctuary. At the same time, I didn't want the two of us fighting again and I especially didn't want to give in and share a tent under the spring sky. If I was going to stop this, whatever this is, I had to stop it completely. "Get to know them better."
"This sort of mission is not when you take a green recruit," Cicero said smiling lopsidedly. If he was still mad about last week then he wasn't showing it at all. "Cicero is the most experienced one here. Take him."
"I'll be gone close to a week. You might miss Mother's oiling," I said gesturing to the giant coffin. I knew I was making excuses at this point. I could just tell Cicero "no" and he would obey. He always understood and obeyed.
"Cicero will take that chance," he said calmly as he pulled on the curtain that hid the shrine when he oiled the Night Mother. It fell into place closing off the area. He placed the cleaning supplies on the floor next to the wall. "Cicero is ready whenever you are."
Middas 9 Rain's Hand 4E 204 3:00 PM
Cicero and I had stopped thirty minutes outside of Rorikstead to take a break from riding. It was a beautiful spring day and I felt a need to lie on the thick green grass with the multitude of wild flowers and just take in the blue sky and white fluffy clouds above.
Nearby I saw a herd of goats nibbling on grass. Our own horses, Shadowmere and a nameless brown mare, were also enjoying the fresh food.
I was lying on my back with my arms crossed behind my head. Cicero was lying with his head next to mine, but his body was pointed in the opposite direction. A cool breeze picked up and blew dandelion fluff into the air.
The last two days of travel hadn't been too bad. Cicero kept his distance and other than muttering quietly to himself, we hadn't talked much. I didn't mind because I was not in the mood to speak. Once the initial rage passed, I started to question my plan.
Ulfric's army would be camped out, making security a joke, but there were still a lot more of them than the two of us. Could I honestly sneak into a military camp, slit the throat of their leader, and escape alive? It would be easy enough if I did it while the fake Dragonborn was asleep. But I wanted to know why. Why had this woman taken my name for her own? For a culture that was so concerned with honor, how could she rationalize this theft?
"Cicero hates clouds," Cicero stated. I was amused by the venom in his voice.
"Even white, fluffy ones like these?" I asked gesturing.
"Yes," Cicero frowned. "The sky should be dark like the void. The cold of space and the terror of midnight. Not…this."
"You just have to make a game of it," I said trying to not laugh. "Like how that one looks like a girl milking a cow. Or that one that looks like a mudcrab."
"What about that one that looks like a dragon?" Cicero asked pointing eastward.
I turned and gasped. "That's not a cloud. That's a dragon!" I scrambled to my feet. I grabbed Cicero's hand and dragged him towards Shadowmere. She was much faster than his mount and could tolerate our weight with no problem. "Hurry, it's headed towards Rorikstead."
"Who cares?" Cicero asked confused as he mounted behind me.
"I do," I said. I might kill for money, but that didn't mean I was going to stand aside and watch a town be destroyed.
Shadowmere flew across the plain. We would not beat the dragon to the village, but we wouldn't be very far behind either. I angled the demon horse so we could try to intercept the beast as quickly as possible. I could see figures in Stormcloak armor preparing for the dragon. Some soldiers must have come up for supplies.
"Take the reins," I yelled to Cicero. He didn't really need to guide Shadowmere; she was clever enough to know where to go on her own, but I didn't want to risk her tripping over the straps. I drew Styx and began to breathe.
Everything was falling away. The blurring background, the sound of the wind in my ears, Cicero, and even the rippling flesh of Shadowmere between my legs all faded into the Void. There was only me, my bow, and the dragon.
I'm only fair with a sword and dagger, but with a bow I am a master. When we were still two hundred feet away from the dragon high in the sky, I pulled back the string of Styx and let an arrow fly. I could see the arrow lodge itself into the creature's neck.
The creature landed on a building and released its ice breath on some guards on the ground. The men's screams were cut short as they fell down dead. Archers shot at the beast, but their arrows only bounced off the tough scales. Dragons are incredibly difficult monsters to defeat. Their tough skin deflects most blows and you have to be able to know the weak points. They can fly and shoot either fire or ice with their breath. And most importantly, they are smart as hell. They use tactics, not something most creatures do.
"Don't let the dragon escape!" a man's voice raised about the crowd's screams. I couldn't believe my luck. That was Ulfric Stormcloak leading the defense of Rorikstead. He must have decided to make an appearance for his men. Truly Old Lady Luck had decided to bless me this day.
Still, he was for later. For now, my focus was only on the dragon. I pushed out the deep, pleasant voice of the Rebellion's leader as I drew another arrow.
Breathe in, breathe out. Call the target to you. Serenity and the Void. I released my arrow and it flew until it landed in the large eye of the ancient dragon as it wheeled passed me. It cried in pain and landed awkwardly onto the plain.
I could see Ulfric and a woman wearing dragon scale armor dart forward with their huge two handed swords. I had to admit the two worked like a well-oiled machine as they swung in unison. The dragon screamed in pain as the enchanted blades bit into its flesh. It opened its mouth to breathe again and I sent an arrow down its throat.
It shuddered its death throes and was still.
Ulfric stood victorious with his whore over the dead dragon. As Shadowmere wheeled around to come back towards the fallen dragon, I dragged on my cowl. Ulfric filled my vision as I drew Stxy again. This time I was aiming straight at that bastard's throat. Let's see him Shout someone to pieces ever again after I put an ebony arrow through it.
"Kill him," Cicero hissed. His tone was almost orgasmic.
"For the Night Mother," Cicero and I screamed in unison. Shadowmere's neigh joined us.
The arrow flew and I knew it would hit true. I always know when my arrow will find its target. I crowed in delight, but my victory was celebrated too soon.
The fake Dragonborn, reflexes honed from years of being a body guard, shot her arm out and caught the arrow before it could kill Ulfric. Even from this distance I could see the bead of blood where the tip just barely touched the jarl's skin. I cursed myself for not using poison.
"Are you safe, my jarl?" the woman asked. I recognized that voice. It couldn't be. She reached up and pulled off her helmet.
"I am thanks to you," Ulfric said. That bastard was as calm as ever. You would never know he had almost died. Ulfric smiled down at the woman. "I knew you would prove to be a worthy ally, Lydia."
Lydia. The fake Dragonborn was Lydia. My old housecarl. My best friend. The one who swore to watch my back always had been the one to betray me the most.
Ulfric and Lydia looked to where the arrow had come from and saw Cicero and me on Shadowmere. My affiliation was unmistakable with the trademark shrouded armor. Lydia shook her fist holding the arrow at us. As we rode away, she screamed after us, "Damn you, Brotherhood! Damn you to the Void! I will avenge my thane's death if it's the last thing I do!"