Author's Note: Hello everyone! Here's chapter 18! I hope you all enjoy it! I really appreciate all of your views/reviews/follows/favs - - I know I say this all the time, but I really mean it! It means a lot to me!
Chapter 18: Running
Cicero yawned, stretching his arms and scooting to the edge of his bed. The jester had stayed up into the late hours of the night cleaning and preserving the Unholy Matron. Eventually, he'd succumbed to exhaustion and had little choice but to drag himself into his sleeping chambers.
Mother's location was quite convenient - - she rested directly below the entrance to the Sanctuary so Cicero could keep watch should his Listener go mad and leave in the night. He'd developed somewhat of a habit of staying up late to guard the doorway, much to his Listener's distaste. Cicero could see it in her face - - how she would pace about at night, glancing toward the Black Door, hoping her foolish Keeper would not take notice. Cicero may have been foolish, but he was also clever and cunning. He could see what his Listener wanted, and his very purpose was to prevent her from it.
The jester believed she was rather stricken with madness. She'd never been so possessed by her desires before. She rarely ate, barely slept, and hardly spoke a single word. He was beginning to grow worried over the past few weeks. Would she dart out as soon as Cicero turned his head? Why was his Listener so deluded by her own wishes? Did she not see that Sithis himself would burn her to a crisp if she betrayed her dark family? Listener never behaved like this before! He didn't want to lose her, for she was his life's work - - his sole purpose. Cicero wasn't letting her go, even if he had to gouge his own eyes out with a fork!
Upon leaving his bedroom, Cicero crept over to the door to the Listener's sleeping quarters. Cicero could never watch her enough, it seemed. He knocked on the large wooden door. "Listener! It's Cicero. Are you in there?" The jester paused, waiting for a reply. Nothing but silence echoed through the hallway. He knocked again, to no response. Cicero began to feel a bit worried, and turned the knob. The door wasn't locked. It creaked open, exposing her unmade bed.
"Hmmm..." Cicero rubbed his chin. Maybe his Listener dwelled in another area. The jester travelled through the Sanctuary, checking room by room and coming up short. His Listener was nowhere to be found, and Cicero began to feel a powerful dread coming over him. The entire Sanctuary had been empty, save Nazir. Everyone else was out on a contract of some sort, and now Cicero and the Redguard were the only two left. No, Cicero couldn't have let his dear Listener slip away! He had watched her every move. He'd devoted all his spare time to keeping her on the dark path. Surely he didn't foolishly let his guard down...
The Keeper tried to stuff down his fears, approaching Nazir as he stood swinging his razor sharp scimitar at a practice target. "Redguard...Cicero needs to ask something of you..." Cicero said soberly.
"What is it this time?" Nazir grumbled, instantly annoyed by the jester's presence. He sheathed his curved blade, folding his arms while giving Cicero a sharp glare.
Ah, the Redguard was such a grumpy creature, but Cicero had no time for that. He had much more dire matters at hand. "Have you seen Listener anywhere?" Cicero inquired.
Nazir studied a moment, "Come to think of it, the last time I saw her was yesterday. I haven't seen a soul today. We're up to our bloody necks in contracts...Not that I mind."
Cicero swallowed hard. "Does Nazir think she had a contract?"
"How am I supposed to know? She's the one that hears the Night Mother! Look, clown, I don't have time for your crazy obsessions! She's probably fine." Nazir remarked, quickly growing tired of the jester's prying.
"AGH! STUPID REDGUARD! No help at ALL! It's NOT Cicero's OBSESSION...Listener may LEAVE us all FOREVER!" Cicero blurted out in panic and frustation. Maybe Cicero should have told them of her plight after all. Oh, but how they would only ignore him. Poor Cicero could never win.
"What in the Void are you talking about?" Nazir looked at Cicero as if he were mad. It had already begun! Why did all his brothers and sisters treat him this way?
"Listener is going to LEAVE! She's going on a trip with the STUPID Man-friend to go away...She may NEVER return! She may ABANDON us all..." Cicero began to whimper frantically.
"I don't know what you're talking about, and personally I don't care. I don't think Ava's personal life is any of my business. She hands out the contracts and I take them. That's how I like to keep it. How do I know you're not making all this up, anyway? What is this, another crazy excuse for you to stalk her? Maybe you should just mind your own business for a change. Go dance or something..." Nazir scoffed, pulling out his scimitar to resume his training.
"NO, CICERO WILL NOT MIND HIS OWN BUSINESS! HE WILL NOT SIT BACK AND FACE THE WRATH OF SITHIS!" Cicero hissed. There was no time to lose! Cicero bolted out of the training area, leaving the Redguard standing in bewilderment.
Ava stepped off the carriage and into the deep snow, standing across from the bitterly cold city of Windhelm. She knew Shadowmere would have been a faster method of transportation, but Ava didn't feel right in leaving him stranded while she left Skyrim.
It was dusk, and the grey horizon hung over the icy waters of the dock across from where she stood. It wasn't the last day of Evening Star, but she didn't care. She'd wait as long as it took to travel with Myles back to Cyrodiil. How she longed to reunite with her family once more, even if it meant Cicero would be unhappy with her.
She didn't like to upset the jester, but Ava concluded that he was overreacting to her harmless visit. Ava had no intentions of harming the Brotherhood or disrespecting her Matron. Ava only wanted a little happiness for herself, and this was one way to find that glimmer of light in her otherwise dark and despairing existence. She would simply travel to her family and let them know she was alive. She swore to herself she would return, as not to provoke the Wrath of Sithis upon her or her dark brethren.
Ava walked onto the stone steps and across the large stone walkway that led to the main entrance to the city. She hooked a right, travelling down another set of steps that led to the docking area, where a ship called the Northern Maiden was located. The deck was dotted with crewmen working to vigorously load supplies.
She walked around the icy stone dock, stepping up on the deck of the vessel. She approached a Nord, who stood sweeping the area. "Excuse me, but when does this ship leave for Cyrodiil?" She inquired eagerly.
The Nord gave her a strange look, " Ma'am, this ship isn't leaving for Cyrodiil at all...I mean, you can speak with Captain Gjalund if you like, but I doubt he'd change his mind. As far as I know, this ship hasn't been to Cyrodiil in a number of years. We only travel to Raven Rock, where we ship supplies to the island of Solstheim. We can take you there, if you need a lift." The Nord explained.
"Oh...Do you know where one could get a ride to Cyrodiil by boat?" Ava asked, hoping for some direction.
"Eh, maybe the East Empire location in Solitude. They travel a bit of everywhere, I suppose. If not, one would have to travel by foot, I'm afraid." The man scratched his head, pondering over the matter.
Ava departed from the ship, making her way back to the outer walls of Windhelm. She'd have to meet up with Myles and tell him the unfortunate news. They would have to make a quick change of plans if she wanted to leave before she was tracked down by her Keeper again. Ava felt a bit set back, but figured this was merely a hiccup in their plan of action. Myles wasn't familiar with Skyrim, so he probably confused the ports. She'd been in Skyrim over a decade, and hadn't travelled in a ship herself since she'd arrived. She figured mistakes would happen, but the main goal was for her to see her loved ones again. That was all that mattered to her.
Ava stepped over to the carriage once more, pondering the idea of renting a room in the tavern for the night.
"Ava! I didn't think I'd see you here so soon!" Myles's figure seemed to appear from nowhere, hauling a load of supplies on his back. "I'm so glad to see you've decided to come join me..."
"I couldn't refuse your offer, " Ava smiled at the sight of her companion. "But there's a slight problem...The Northern Maiden isn't headed to Cyrodiil. We'll have to check the port in Solitude if we want to ride by ship..." She said, feeling somewhat dissapointed.
"Yes, I found that out when I came to Windhelm a couple of days ago. I stuck around here, just in case you decided to travel with me. Now I'm glad I did..." He smiled, seeming not the least bit affected by the setback.
"Heh, I didn't even see you coming! It's like you appeared out of thin air!" Ava chuckled.
"Yeah, I was actually staying in an abandoned hideout close to here. It's not very far, so I came to check this place ever so often to see if you'd arrived at the docks. It's getting pretty late..." Myles said, glancing up at the darkening skies. "It's a bit too late to set out tonight. You should come with me for the night. It's a nice little hideout, and best of all - - it's free!" He persuaded, smiling warmly at her.
"Yeah, but we're so close to the Inn..." Ava spoke, thinking it unnecessary to go through the trouble of travelling.
"That's true...But where's your sense of adventure? Besides, maybe your little jester friend won't find you and make you leave this time!" Myles teased.
He did have a point. Ava hadn't considered the fact that she'd be easier to find within the walls of the city. If she didn't want Cicero banging on her door, her best choice would be to travel with Myles. "Yeah...you're right..." Ava nodded.
"That's the spirit!" Myles cheered, patting her on the shoulder, as the two started hiking toward the abandoned cave.
"FASTER, DAMN YOU!" The jester cursed. Cicero spurred Shadowmere roughly in the sides, causing the dark stallion to rear back, throwing him to the ground.
The jester pushed himself up off his rear, dusting the dirt from his motley. "STUPID horse didn't have to do THAT!" The jester quarrelled at the angry steed, who then turned and bit him on the arm. "GAAAAHHH! FINE! YOU WIN...Just get Cicero where he NEEDS to go, hm?" He said, mounting the irritated horse once more.
As Shadowmere galloped onward, Cicero hoped that for Sithis' sake his Listener hadn't left with that vile scoundrel! At least Cicero knew where he was going, though he was still quite far from his destination. His naive young Listener didn't expect Cicero to stick his foot in the door of the tavern and eavesdrop on her little conversation with the ruffian. Windhelm, Windhelm, Windhelm! That was all her precious Man-friend could speak about! Oh, and he thought Cicero was mad...nothing new there. But the stupid man didn't realize he was being watched, studied, and listened to by the Fool of Hearts himself! If he thought he knew madness, Cicero would show him true madness - - He'd stab him so so many times! Hehe! Oh, Mother would be so proud of Cicero's devotion!
Cicero's main objective was to keep the Brotherhood intact, yet it wasn't the only reason he pursued his Listener. Contrary to what she believed, the jester did care for her more than her high position in the dark family. She may have been acting rather erratic as of late, but his Listener was normally an excellent companion. He delighted in nothing more than being near her, looking into her beautiful eyes, and enjoying her kindness. Cicero never experienced many kind people in his life, and the few he did know never held a light to his wonderful Listener. The jester had really felt something deeper than friendship for quite sometime, yet wouldn't dare acknowledge it to himself for fear of being inappropriate. As a matter of fact, sometimes Cicero wanted to be inappropriate as well. He'd just keep that to himself.
"Well, here we are." Myles said as the two entered the mouth of the cave. "It's a bit different from your average inn, but it's got a lot of character!" Myles joked, dropping his heavy pack on the ground and stepping over to the dying fire. " There's a couple of bedrolls in that chest if you need one later." He said, tossing some firewood onto the hot cinders, watching the flame catch up.
Ava sat on a rickety chair by the fire, warming her hands and examining the cavern. She noticed a winding tunnel at the back heading deeper within. There were weapon racks filled with rusty swords and tarnished shields. A broken grindstone sat against one of the wet, moss covered walls. Old tables of various sorts were scattered about the large cave, covered in dusty utensils and ruined books. Some sort of torture rack sat among the rubble, giving Ava a strangely uneasy feeling. Despite the cave's delapidated appearance, it proved to be rather warm and comfortable. Ava felt herself growing more relaxed, taking in the heat of the flame that was warming her cold bones.
"I'll be right back..." Myles said casually, walking toward the tunnel at the back end of the cavern.
"Where are you going?" Ava wondered, curious to what was back there.
"There's a shelf back here where I keep my drinks. I'll get something good to warm us up." He flashed a grin, disappearing into the passageway.
Ava smiled contently, waiting for his return. She felt a great sense of nostalgia and happiness spending time with Myles again. She couldn't wait to experience the same pleasure of seeing Sidra and her family once more. Somehow being in the presence of her past made her forget about all the pain and darkness. It was as if all her cares had become as light as a hawk's feather and drifted far away on a calm wind.
"This is some of my best stuff. You've got to try it!" Myles said, appearing out of the tunnel and handing Ava a large tankard.
"What is it?" Ava asked, sniffing the unusually spicy aroma.
"Spiced Wine - - I picked it up in Solitude during my travels. It's some of the best brew I've tasted since I've been here." He smiled, taking a drink from his own mug.
Ava took a swig from her tankard. "Oh, this is good! I've been to Solitude plenty of times, and I never once thought to try this." She remarked, eagerly drinking another large gulp.
"Speaking of Solitude, I guess that's our next stop...Hopefully we can hitch a ride on one of the ships. I wish I'd have known about these ports earlier. I could've saved us some time." Myles spoke apologetically.
"Heh, it's fine. I've been here a long time and I didn't know any different." She replied, feeling more relaxed from the tasty drink.
"It's pretty amazing that we're here together. It's as if it were meant to be..." Myles grinned.
"Yeah...I'm glad we ran into each other...I have so much to look forward to now, and I have you to thank for it..." Ava yawned, feeling a bit groggy.
"Tell me, Ava. Do you believe these kinds of things just happen? Like a coincidence?" Myles looked at her inquisitively.
"...What do you...mean?" She stretched, feeling overtaken by a sudden drowsiness. She felt so very tired. Could it have been the long time she'd spent out in the elements? Somehow, her body didn't feel right.
"You, know...Most of the time people don't just run into a ghost from their past by chance..." He said somberly, staring into her eyes.
"Oh...do...you mean...like...fate...?" Ava's head began to spin. She could barely keep her eyes open, now struggling to hold her head up.
Myles lips curled into a devious smile, his piercing eyes glaring into her. "Yes. You can call it fate, if you like..."
"I...I..." Ava faded out. The last thing she had seen were those eyes - - those piercing eyes.
Cicero could barely keep his eyes open, growing weary from hours upon hours of ceaseless riding. The jester plodded onward, hoping to make it to the docks before the next sunrise. He had little idea of how much of a head start his Listener had, but he'd hoped to catch up to her before she could leave Skyrim.
Feeling consumed with exhaustion, the jester guided Shadowmere to an icy river where he dismounted. Cicero knelt down, pulling his velvety gloves off and dipping his hands in the freezing waters. He splashed the chilling waters in his face, hoping to wake himself up. After he'd felt the icy jolt of the water, he began to feel more alert. He then strolled a good distance away from the steed to stretch his aching legs.
"Heh heh...Look what we have here..." A rough voice chimed in from somewhere behind the jester, who whipped around in response.
A huge male Orc approached Cicero while holding a menacing battleaxe. Behind him, a female Orc, a Khajiit, and a muscular Redguard followed with their weapons drawn. They appeared to be bandits, with the larger male Orc seemingly the leader.
"What is he? I've never seen a garment quite like his..." The female Orc wondered aloud, tapping the head of her mace against her large battle-worn hand.
"He looks to be some sort of...jester..." The Redguard replied, eyeing Cicero's garb.
Sensing danger, Cicero took a few steps back toward Shadowmere in hopes that he could make an escape. Poor Cicero - - such terrible luck he'd been having!
"Heheh...Cicero will just be on his WAY..." The jester said, inching closer to his horse.
"Now why would you want to leave? We've only just met!" The humongous Orc chief threw his head back in laughter.
"Hmmm...Such an unusual creature..." The Khajiit purred, taking notice of the red-eyed steed. "This one thinks a rare stallion such as this would be worth much coin..." He said, stroking his whiskers with intrigue.
"Oh, Cicero ASSURES you he has nothing of VALUE! Why, Cicero is BROKE! He has no GOLD, if that is what you desire...And his horse is worth no more than any other..." The jester persuaded, trying to convince the bandits to leave him be.
"I'll be the judge of that!" The Orc leader demanded, getting a bit too close for Cicero's comfort.
Beginning to feel trapped and obviously outnumbered, Cicero continued inching further to his getaway. Cicero normally enjoyed these occasions in which he had the opportunity to murder others, but due to severe fatigue and time constraints he wasn't quite in the mood.
"Not so fast...This one thinks it would be unwise for you to take another step..." The Khajiit spoke calmly, aiming an arrow at Cicero's head, and making him freeze in his tracks.
"Check those satchels. Surely this madman has something of value." The massive Orc pointed to Shadowmere, as the Redguard made his way behind the jester. He opened a knapsack hanging on the horse's saddle, digging through it's contents. "This jester fellow thinks he's a smooth talker!" He scoffed, pulling out a large coin purse and dangling it for the other bandits to see. He glared at Cicero, "Did you honestly think we were that stupid?"
"Ah...Please FORGIVE poor Cicero for judging you based on APPEARANCES alone...Next time he will try to remember that bandits aren't as STUPID as they LOOK! Hehehe!" The jester giggled mischeviously. Cicero was growing tired of these pesky bandits! He hoped they would hurry up and rob him and leave; or they could take a swing at him so he could gladly send their souls to the Dread Father and be done with it!
"Now listen here you little maggot, I'd be careful what I was saying if I were you! That is, unless you want that arrow through your head!" The Orc chief threatened, balling his fists.
Cicero scowled at the Khajiit, who stood at the ready with his bow drawn tightly. "Tell me CAT, did the big old Orc train you all by HIMSELF? Hmmmn?" Cicero smirked, attempting to provoke the feline. "Ah, to be a CAT! Do they give you a little jug of MILK when you perform your TRICKS, hm? Do they ever SMACK you in the nose for licking your NETHER-REGIONS? HAHAHAHA!" The jester threw his head back in mocking laughter at the Khajiit, who was now showing his fangs aggressively. That was it - - make the stupid cat attack! Cicero had to speed things up if he was to be on his way!
Cicero could see it in the Khajiit's sharp emerald eyes - - he was ready to pounce. The feline curled his mouth in a hiss. "Foolish man...You will pay for your disrespect..." There it was! Cicero waited...for...it...
In an instant, the Khajiit let the arrow fly, narrowly missing the ducking jester. Instead, the sharp tip landed directly into the Redguard who'd been standing at a distance behind Cicero, piercing his throat. Cicero was right, these bandits were stupid after all!
"Get that little bastard!" The Orc leader raged.
Cicero had lunged at the Khajiit before he could ready another arrow, forcefully yanking his bow away and smashing him square in the face with it, cracking the slim curved wood of the weapon. The feline fell to the ground, unconscious from the heavy blow.
"GHAAAAA!" The female Orc cried, hurling the mace as Cicero dodged her swings, pulling out his ebony blade to defend himself.
She was quick, but nimble Cicero was far quicker! The jester sliced and slashed the Orc, making her cry out. The big hulking male came up from behind Cicero, swinging his powerful battleaxe. The jester quickly rolled out from between the muscle-bound Orcs, sprinting toward Shadowmere.
Cicero was quick, but the Orcs stayed right on his heels. He knew they'd yank him right off his horse if he scrambled to mount it. Ah, but he had a far better idea! Cicero opened another satchel on Shadowmere's saddle, digging frantically for what he needed. The massive male Orc ran up behind Cicero, swinging his heavy battleaxe. Instantaneously, Cicero had pulled out a certain scroll, whipping around just as the blade was travelling down in his direction and opening it in the Orcs face.
A vibrant green burst shot out from the parchment, engulfing the two Orcs and freezing them in their places. The two forms stiffly flopped over in the snow like two hardened statues. Ah, thank Sithis for the Scroll of Mass Paralysis!
Due to the short time-frame of the spell, Cicero swiftly plunged his dagger into the Orc leader's throat, then rushed over to the female and slit her's as well. When time is of the essence, one tends to be less creative in their work.
The jester stood proudly over the dead bodies, panting to catch his breath. Suddenly, he felt a sharp sting in his side, knocking him down into the snow. The Khajiit had regained consciousness and lunged at the jester, swiping him in the side with his razor-sharp claws. The fearsome Khajiit pounced on top of Cicero, clawing and raking him wherever he could. The jester writhed about under the large feline, until he broke loose from his grip enough to forcefully back-hand the cat across his furry face. The Khajiit rolled down the icy hill, tumbling toward the cold waters below.
Cicero stood up, wiping the fresh blood from his mouth and lunging himself at the beast. They locked arms with each other, until they splashed in the freezing waters with Cicero on top of him.
"HAHAHAHAHA! Does the kitty HATE water? Well that's UNFORTUNATE! Cicero LOVES water!" He said, pinning the Khajiit under the current, causing his lungs to fill with water.
The feline writhed and flailed, scraping Cicero's arms wildy in trying to knock him off. Soon the coughing, strangling, and struggling weakened as the feline's body gave in to the effects of drowning. After a few final twitches, Cicero had won. He jumped up from the wintery waters, shivering and drenched from head to toe.
The jester walked past the dead bodies, stepping on the back of the large Orc to mount Shadowmere once more. He took the reigns in his hands, with a look of satisfaction. "Cicero CERTAINLY isn't sleepy anymore..."
Vottur entered the Sanctuary in the dead of night, pacing down the staircase and grabbing a bottle of Mead that lay up on a shelf.
Babette stood with her arms folded, scowling at Nazir. "Why didn't you at least ask him what he meant before you let him run out of here?"
"Because he is a raving lunatic! He says so many idiotic things, how am I supposed to know when he's telling the truth or not?" Nazir huffed at the tiny Vampire.
"All I know is we have no idea where our Listener is, and Cicero said she was leaving for good. I really don't know what to think of it all...I'd go searching, but where to look?" Babette asked in frustration. "Come to think of it, she was acting rather unusual..." Babette rubbed her chin in contemplation.
"What's new about that? She's always acting unusual!" Nazir remarked, belittling their leader.
"With an attitude like yours, it's a thousand wonders why the poor girl stayed this long. All you do is berate her! She is our leader, you know. She deserves a little respect!" Babette scolded, waving a finger at the angry Redguard.
"At least I don't sit back and get some sick enjoyment from their crazy relationship! You make it your own personal form of entertainment to watch those two act like nut-cases! At least I mind my own business!" Nazir fired back.
Vottur popped the cork, taking a gulp from the bottle of Mead and watching the two assassins hash it out. He listened casually to their argument, taking little interest in what they were actually arguing about. He had little interest in anything, for that matter. The only thing that brought him any pleasure was bashing an enemy's head in. The Dark Brotherhood had given him a good means to do just that.
After Mina died, all his joy had drained - - and that had been many years ago. The Vampire was now a shell of his former self. Life was meaningless, people were useless, and pain was inevitable. Vottur rarely felt like speaking, because he had little worth talking about these days. Empty and hollow inside, he only felt the anger from losing her.
He wished no harm to his Listener wherever she took off to. In fact, she'd been the only person to directly aknowledge the loss of his wife, and do so in a respectful manner. Cicero, on the other hand, was a disgusting moron. If he hadn't held himself back that night, he'd have caved that miserable jester's skull in for speaking that way of Mina.
Vottur watched as Babette stormed away from Nazir out of sheer frustration. He took another drink of Mead, as the Redguard glared in his direction with a bitter look on his face. "What are you looking at?" Nazir remarked, irritable from the previous argument.
"Nothing." Vottur said solemnly, and it couldn't have been more true to the Nord. These people were nothing to him.