Author's Note: Hello again! Here's chapter 19! As always, I thank each and every one of you for taking the time to read my fic! This chapter's a long one! I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter 19: Rescue Me
The world appeared in a dark messy blur, as Ava's consciousness faded back. She breathed in shallow gasps, attempting to fill her lungs with a full breath once more. Her body felt an intense throbbing ache all throughout. She tried with great force to move her arm, but felt overpowered by an intense weakness. She felt as if someone had absorbed all the life force from her body, leaving her laying like a limp rag doll on the cold cave floor.
The musty smell of the cavern filled her nostrils as her vision slowly focused on what was above her. The ceiling of the cave appeared to have lines strung across in a parallel fashion. After a moment of studying the dark lines, she realized that they were not part of the cavern. The unknown objects were actually a set of bars directly above her head.
Her eyes traced the bars down to the floor of the cave, realizing she'd been placed in a large square cage. Still too weak to move her body, she gathered enough strength to slightly turn her head to the side. She noticed that her limp arm had an iron cuff placed around the wrist, and a chain hung from said cuff, connecting it to the wall of the cage. Ava could see a small amount of slack in the chain - - just barely enough to move. Pooling her energy, she looked to find that her other arm had been chained as well.
Still in a haze, Ava had a difficult time remembering what had happened. She closed her eyes, breathing faintly and trying to think. Why was her head so foggy? After what seemed like a lifetime of confusion, her mind began to clear. The first person that came to mind was Myles. She had followed him to this very cavern and he'd offered her some Spiced Wine while they chatted about their plans.
Ava remembered seeing Myles' smile...and his eyes. They were full of deceit, and his smile was so malicious. But why had she fainted? The only thing she did was sit and have a drink with him. It was the wine - - Ava realized in an instant what had happened. It was all so painfully clear. Myles must have poisoned her drink. But why would he do such a thing now? What were his true intentions? It just wasn't making any sense.
A cold, empty feeling welled up inside of Ava's chest. She began to feel a cetain despair that no words could describe. The only thing she knew was that it felt thick and draining, and it lay heavy upon her heart.
A lifetime seemed to have passed before Ava had the strength to push herself up off the cold, muddy floor. Examining her surroundings, she noted that this part of the cavern was incredibly dim. She must have been in the area that the winding tunnel she'd noticed from earlier had led to. The room was lined with empty cages, save for the one she was currently a prisoner in. The area was completely silent, except for the occasional dripping of water from the ceiling onto the floor below. Myles was nowhere to be found. Directly in front of her cage was an old wooden chair, with a long Imperial sword laying underneath.
Ava sat leaning her back against the iron bars, feeling a sickening dread course through her veins. She had no clue what was going to happen to her, but she knew it wasn't good.
...
For what seemed like hours, Ava sat in silence awaiting her fate alone in the dark. A sudden sound of footsteps began to echo through the cavern, alerting her and making her heart race. A light flooded out of the tunnel and into the room from Myles's torch. The man said nothing, placing his torch in the sconce on the moist rock wall. He calmly walked over to the old chair, sitting back with his other hand holding a tankard.
Ava said nothing as Myles took a drink, his head tilted up as if looking at the ceiling of the cave and pondering something. "I guess you would like to know why you're in here..." Myles spoke, his low voice echoing throughout the dark area.
She held her breath, waiting for him to finish what he was saying. His face, once appearing charming and safe, was now dark and ominous as the light from the torch danced upon his menacing features. His lips began to move slowly, "I'll start with Sidra...and her family. I lied to you, Ava - - they are dead. My kin slaughtered the lot of them before they laid foot at your home. There's nobody waiting for you, Ava. You hear that? You have nobody..."
Ava hung her head down, feeling warm salty tears trail down her cheeks. She suddenly wondered why she was foolish enough to believe they were alive in the first place. Never once did she question what Myles had told her, given his famiy's history. She'd just wanted it to be true so much - - that Sidra was back in Cyrodiil alive and well. Myles running into Ava should've been enough to make her more wary than she was - - the chances were so slim that they would ever meet again. Unless, of course, he had followed her. How he knew she was alive, she was still unsure of. Nonetheless, there was more to the man than met the eye.
Myles shifted in his seat, turning to directly face her. There was a look about him that she'd never experienced before. He seemed so empty and full of rage. "You were right, Ava. I was out for revenge...and now I'm going to get it. You'll regret the day you ever crossed paths with me again...Now if I may be excused, I'm going to rest for tonight. I'll fill you in a little more tomorrow..." He said, taking his torch and exiting the area, leaving Ava alone in the darkness once more.
A bitter gale blew snow in Cicero's face, making it hard to see the docks at Windhelm. He lowered himself from Shadowmere, walking closer to gain a better view of the ships. To his surprise, the dock was still full of boats, as if none of them had departed in the first place.
Cicero made his way over to the area in front of the ships, finding a crewman loading supplies on the Northern Maiden. "The Nord hasn't seen a young lady around the docks, perhaps?" He inquired.
The man looked warily at Cicero, "What happened to you?! You look like a pack of wolves laid into you!" The exclaimed, noticing the jester's rough appearance.
"Ah, one could say that..." The jester muttered, examining the deep scratches on his forearms, which were now bare due to his motley being ripped to shreds by the ravenous Khajiit.
"Yeah, I saw a young woman here earlier...a little dark-headed Imperial. Is that who you're looking for?" The crewman continued.
"Yes, YES! Did the lady take a ride on one of the boats?" Cicero asked, hoping the answer was no. How he despised boats - - The way they tossed and turned upon the grey grey waters, making poor Cicero ill. He'd rather not ride in one unless there was no other option.
"I'm afraid not. She wanted a ride to Cyrodiil, but I told her these ships hadn't been that route in years." The crewman explained, wiping his brow.
"She did NOT leave?! Ah, that is WONDERFUL news! Hmmm...Did you see where the girl went?" Cicero asked, relieved that his Listener was still somewhere in Skyrim.
"Ah...I think she went back that way..." The man said, pointing toward the city of Windhelm and looking unsure of himself. "Maybe she's staying at Candlehearth Hall."
"Very well, Nord." Cicero said dryly, not appreciating the crewman's uncertainty. However, this bit of information was better than nothing. The jester promptly retraced his steps back to the entrance of Windhelm, now standing in front of the enormous entrance. Cicero hoped so very much to find her within the walls.
Ava slumped against the bars, numb from sleep deprivation. Her mind had raced so long that she had grown tired, and simply sat staring at the iron bars that imprisoned her- - waiting for whatever hellish fate she was soon to endure.
"Did you have a good night's sleep, Ava?" Myles asked in a sarcastically cheerful tone, while entering the area. "Hmmmm...You don't look so good. Well, I'll be happy to assure you that I slept like a newborn babe last night. No worries, right?" He scoffed, now leaning against the cage.
Her mouth now parched from dehydration, Ava spoke in a raspy voice. "Myles...Why are you doing this? Why did you lead me out here?"
"Haha...You know, you remind me of myself at one time - - All caged up, like a feral beast." He rambled, ignoring her question. "You know, I was like you once - - so naive and trusting of others. However, I find it incredibly strange that you act so innocent. It seems like an assassin like yourself would be a bit more wise than to trust so easily." He sneered, his face full of malice.
Ava stiffened at what Myles had just said. "H-how do you know that?!" She gasped, baffled by his knowledge.
"Ah, you want answers..." Myles squatted by the cage, meeting Ava at eye-level. "Okay then...Let me tell you a little story. Now, I'm not the best story teller, but I'm sure the content is enough to keep you interested..." He stood back up, pacing about with his bands at his hips. "Hmmm...where do I start?"
Ava could feel the tension building inside of her, as Myles took his time to start speaking. He was devious and calculated in his actions - - knowing just what to do or say to make her squirm. After what seemed like a lifetime, the Imperial began to speak.
"Well, you remember when we were young and I went to stay with my uncle and aunt to learn the smithing trade. It was quite a promising time for me, as I'm sure it was for you. I knew before long, I could perfect my skills and start a blacksmith's shop of my own in the city...Maybe even travel, like we'd spoken about..." Myles said, painfully reminding Ava of how nice things used to be before they had become so twisted.
"I was working away one day, when a couple of Imperial Soldiers approached me, their faces looking sullen. They told me that practically all my living relatives had been slaughtered and left to rot. Now I know what you're thinking, Ava. You're thinking 'well, they were bad people doing bad things'. Heh, you may be right, but let me continue before you open your mouth." He growled, casting a glare in her direction.
"My aunt, much to my surprise, had turned out to be a treacherous bitch. I thought she cared for me the way my uncle and his sons did, but I was so very wrong. She'd pretended - - she merely tolerated me all that time. With her family out of the picture, she kicked me out so I wouldn't be a bother to her anymore. Haha...nice little twist, eh? Well, there is more." Myles said, his manner of speech becoming more frantic. "I scraped by on my own for a while, namely doing odd jobs as a farm hand or whatever came my way. That was until I was travelling alone one night, and a real group of bandits got a hold of me. Kind of ironic, isn't it?" He asked, his eyes wide and animalistic.
Myles grabbed a key that had been hanging on his belt, unlocking and opening the door to the cage. Ava put an arm in front of herself, bracing herself for whatever this rage-filled man was willing to do to her. He squatted in front of her, his own face inches from hers. She could feel his breath hot on her face. "Then I was just like you..." Myles's voice trembled. "They beat me to a pulp, and they chained me up inside a cage...Just...like...you...They were going to use me for a ransom, until they found out that nobody gave a damn if I was alive or dead. Then they used me as there own personal punching bag. The men would get drunk and beat me...among other things...terrible things..." He snarled, tears of trauma and rage forming in his eyes.
"Eventually, they let me out to roam with the chains still around my ankles. They made me their slave, doing whatever they told me without question. I could disobey, but that would earn me one hell of a beating. But one night the lot of 'em got drunk and passed out. It just so happened that there was a mace within my reach. I grabbed it and I smashed those sons of bitches' heads open! When I escaped it had been countless months that I'd been a prisoner...I was malnourished and emaciated. Ah, but being the good person that I was, I wanted to do something good and right. Hahahahaha..." He laughed darkly, rubbing the sweat that beaded on his forehead.
Myles leaned over Ava, his lips against her ear, "Ah, but that's where you come in...I decided to devote my life to a good cause, so I decided to stand by my land and the Empire. I became a Penitus Oculatus Agent so I could proudly serve and protect Emperor Titus Mede II. I spent many years serving the Empire, and I had found a new purpose - - a new family. But, like everything else, you had to take that away from me, too. Didn't you?! DIDN'T YOU?!" He began to scream into Ava's ear, sending a sharp pain shooting through her head. She was terrified at the man's pure rage and hatred, that he focused solely upon her. It was as if every horrible thing that had happened to Myles had been deliberately blamed on her, no questions.
He grabbed her by the collar, pulling her up to his twisted face while she could do nothing but wince and brace herself. All Ava could think of was the fact that she may die very soon. "Guess what, Ava? I was on the deck of the Katariah! I saw you leave out the back of the ship! I saw your FACE! You SLAUGHTERED my brothers in arms! What few of us that were left alive...well we spotted you and made way to the Emperor's Quarters, and you'd KILLED him before we knew you were there! You made me a FAILURE! A GODS-FORSAKEN FAILURE, YOU HEAR THAT?! YOU WORTHLESS BITCH! I TRIED AND TRIED AND YOU ALWAYS TOOK FROM ME!" Myles screamed forcefully in her face, spitting with every word. He shook Ava violently, making her cry helplessly. She felt the intense terror that any moment from this point forward could very well be her last.
"NO! Please, Myles...I didn't- - " Ava cried, begging Myles before he interrupted her pleading with a fist to her face. "NO! NOOOO!" She cried, begging and pleading with him, but her shrieks of terror had no effect on the rage-filled Imperial.
Ava could feel the intense pain ringing her head with every blow of the strong Imperial's fists. Myles didn't stop until he was satisfied, and Ava's unconscious body draped against the side of the cage.
The jester sat shivering on a dusty old bed in a shack by the river. His hands were so numb they had become stiff from the stinging cold. Cicero had attempted repeatedly to stretch the stiffness out, but to no avail. Cicero looked behind himself to peer out the cracked and dusty window. Snow gusted by at a lightning fast pace, making poor Cicero dizzy just watching it. Such rotten luck - - to so desperately need to reach his Listener, only to be trapped in a ridiculous snow storm and lose that dreadful horse. Such madness!
Not long after he'd spoke with the Nord on the boat, he'd made his rounds about Windhelm. He searched every street, knocked on every door, and checked in every shop for signs of his Listener. Of course, poor Cicero came up completely empty-handed. STUPID Nord - - telling poor Cicero the wrong way to go.
But then again, maybe Cicero was wrong about the Nord. If it weren't for him sending Cicero to Windhelm, he would have never entered the alchemy shop. Upon questioning, they certainly hadn't seen his Listener...Of course, they had seen someone else, and it was that putrid, VILE man-friend of hers!
Cicero had asked if they had seen him. They answered that they had seen a man who fit that description enter the shop earlier. They even remembered his name. They said he'd come to purchase some poison. Now, what would the stupid man want with poison? The shopkeep told Cicero that the man said he was using it as a means of exterminating a pack of Skeevers from his home in Dawnstar. There was only one problem with that story - - that pathetic man had no home at all in Skyrim - - especially Dawnstar! Cicero knew all too well what Myles was more than likely planning with it, and he could've whacked his own arm off with a blunt axe for not thinking of it sooner!
The man-friend had ill-intent toward his Listener. Why else would he find her out of the blue one day and try to charm her with those honied words with little rhyme or reason? Why would the foul creature try to lure her away, only to go to the wrong port? Cicero had a perfectly good reason for being ignorant concerning the ship-he hated boats! Hated hated hated! He rode one to Skyrim when he corresponded with that harlot Astrid; However, he knew or cared little else about the damned vessels. But this man; he said he was a travelling merchant, no? Why did he not know the ports very well by now? All things pointed to alternate motives - - and heinous ones, at that.
Feeling terribly frightened for his Listener's well-being, Cicero had dashed out of the city and directly into a blizzard. What made matters utterly worse, was the fact that poor Cicero had not the faintest idea where that disgusting man went with his Listener. Why, she could be resting with the Dread Lord by now, for all Cicero knew! Oh, but poor frantic Cicero certainly hoped not. True, he and the Dark Brotherhood would surely suffer without a Listener, but Cicero would suffer most of all without this dear, precious woman in his life...
The jester shook his head to rid himself of the awful thought of losing her. "No. No, foolish Cicero...Listener is alive...she HAS to be..." He hoped aloud. That is, if that monster hadn't poisoned her to death by now. Oh, how Cicero's thoughts TORMENTED him so.
Cicero stood up from the bed, walking over to the entrance of the shack. The freezing gale stung him to the bone, causing the jester's teeth to chatter. His wounded body ached, as he studied the deep gashes up his arms. STUPID Cicero should have thought to buy a healing potion. Ah, but he was far too concerned with his Listener to think of it.
He was still horribly worried - - worried enough to go out into the bitter storm once again. He didn't know where she was, but he knew he had to find her. He'd search all over Nirn if that's what it took. Nodding to himself, as if agreeing with his own thoughts, the jester darted out into the gusting force once more. If Cicero was going to freeze to death, it would be in loyalty to his Listener - - not in some stupid shack letting her die!
Something lightly dropped onto Ava's face as she regained consciousness. A drop of cool water ran down her forehead and dripped off the edge of her nose. Her mouth seemed as dry as the deserts of Elsweyr, and this meager drop of water appeared to be taunting her parched throat.
Ava lifted her trembling hand, wiping the liquid from her face. Studying her palm, Ava could see thick traces of blood mixed in with the water. Remembering the brutal assault from earlier, she frantically felt of her face. Though she had no means to see it, she could tell by the way it felt that the damage had to be extensive. Her forehead and cheeks were sticky to the touch; Ava imagined it was from dry, caked blood that had trailed from the gashes she could feel. A couple of large knots protruded from ther forehead, and she was well aware that her right eye was nearly swollen shut. Her upper-arms throbbed, most likely from Myles forcefully grabbing them and shaking her violently.
Hopeless - - that was Ava's ultimate feeling. She wished now more than ever that she had listened to her dear friend Cicero. Sure, he didn't say Myles was a twisted and violent man, but he did realize that it was unwise for her to try and relive the past. She regretted ever doubting the jester. He was her true friend and companion, unlike Myles, who happened to be nothing but a liar. She missed Cicero terribly. His devilish grin, his ludicrous sense of humor, and his unrelenting devotion to her. The worst part was that she'd probably never see him again. She figured she'd die alone in this prison, and probably in the worst possible manner.
The jester creeped into her mind again. She thought of the way he tried to comfort her when she grew troubled, the way he found every excuse to be around her, and the way he fiercly protected her over the slightest offence to her character. She smiled, then her quivering lips turned downward into a lonely frown. She hated herself for pushing him to the side over an infatuation with Myles and his deceiving story. She had been so weak and vunerable to his lies - - and he had been more than happy to exploit her weakness.
Ava was beginning to think insanity fit the bill when it came to her condition. Her yearning for her former life, and her constant running from her true identity was the very thing that landed her into this disaster. She most certainly had to be crazy to do such a stupid thing. She hated herself for being so pathetic, and her very thoughts began to turn on herself. She began to think that maybe she deserved all this pain. Maybe she deserved to die alone. She believed herself to be an awful leader for going astray so easily. Even worse, she was a lowlife who killed shamelessly for a living. She was too damaged to be of good character, and too full of cowardice to be the dark person she was intended to be. Ava cradled her bloody face in her hands and began to weep. Her helpless cries only ceased as she drifted back to an exhausted slumber.
"Ohhhh...Listener, where ARE you?!" Cicero chattered, pacing against the rough and icy wind that blew against his aching body.
The jester had been searching for hours, and his body had grown numb and weary from the treacherous elements he'd put himself against. Oh, but Cicero had to find his precious Listener before it was too late - - Even if poor Cicero froze into a hardened corpse!
Cicero couldn't shake the feeling of eminent danger. Alone and up to his knees in freezing snow, he only had his racing thoughts for company. He tried pushing his fear away, but it eeked its way back in, slowly devouring his mind. The thought of his Listener being dead nearly brought him to tears. He just couldn't live without his Listener. Pathetic Cicero's life would be MEANINGLESS without her.
Stopping and pivoting with his back now facing the gale, Cicero realized this feeling was deeper than he imagined. YES, she was the great and powerful Listener. Yes, she was kind and pretty. Ah, but there was more...
Cicero hung his head down, as tears welled up in his eyes. She was all those things, and yet, she was more... The girl spoke of many tragic things in her life, and Cicero found himself intrigued. Ah, but it was more than mere interest - - the jester could relate very much to her. Much like his Listener, his past was filled with empty dreams, constant loss, and vicious betrayal. And while he had the laughter to fill him up, there was always an empty void inside.
It dwelled deep within the jester's very being...somewhere burried beneath the foolishness, the laughter, and the cunning assassin. It was a hurt, and a longing for someone who cared for Cicero the man - - not just the fool. The Listener cared - - she filled his void, whether she was aware of it or not.
From the moment he laid eyes on her, he became smitten with the beautiful young creature. She showed him compassion when no one else would. It wasn't merely a one-time charitable decision, either. Her kindness continued from that moment forward. Why, she even betrayed the Pretender for Cicero! Saved his very life, she did! Listener did many good things for humble Cicero - - too many for him to count.
Everything about his Listener was perfect. Cicero loved the way she smiled when he acted foolish (which was nearly always), while others simply mocked him or grew irritable with poor Cicero. He loved how polite and patient his Listener behaved toward his constant clinging and suffocating behavior. His Listener was a compassionate woman, and she saw things in the fool other than his insanity. She saw Cicero the man - - the person. Why, even in her position of authority, she never once had the desire to take advantage of his devotion.
Only the Mother and Sithis himself were held in higher honor in Cicero's mind...and in a different way, perhaps. His feelings toward the Listener were a bit more romantic in nature. Of course, Cicero would never tell her that. He was merely her Keeper - - her servant, after all. Ah, but he could certainly dream about it.
This feeling - - it was not merely lust or infatuation. Over their time spent together, he'd realized he felt deeply for her. Cicero turned back to face the storm, focusing straight forward.
"Cicero will find you, Listener..." He trudged onward, dissappearing into a whirling white wind.
The bonfire blazed brilliantly under a clear and starry sky in Cyrodiil. Ava sat on a stump among her family who sat encirled about the flame. Her father, Timaeus, sat just to her left. To his left was her mother, Rosalia. Her Aunt Sidra sat to her right, next to her husband Albus and their two small children next to him. Through the flame at the opposite end she could see Myles, laughing and chatting along with the others.
A large deer lay strung across the flames, the sweet smell of it's cooking flesh among various spices filled Ava's senses. A slight chill in the night air caused her to hug herself as if to hold close the heat of the flame.
"Yep, she's becoming a regular hunter - - just like her father!" Albus exclaimed to Ava's father, who beamed proudly.
"Haha, but of course! She has the best teacher in all of Cyrodiil, isn't that right?" He grinned widely at Ava, chuckling.
Ava smiled warmly at her father.
"Alright now..." Her mother nudged Timaeus jokingly with her elbow, "I think 'good teacher' may be a bit more accurate, don't you?"
"Ah, my wife is too modest...She doesn't want you to be jealous of her for having such a talented husband!" Ava's father laughed, speaking to Sidra.
"Hey, now! What's wrong with me?!" Albus yelped, folding his arms. "Your daughter was the one who sent an arrow through that big stag, anyway! I didn't see you bringin' any meat home!" He smiled, pointing at Timaeus.
"I wasn't trying, that's all..." Timaeus shrugged, as Rosalia rolled her eyes, grinning.
"Now, now, boys...Enough of that bickering! Here young Myles is half your age, and he's being more mature than the both of ya!" Sidra quarreled at the two jokingly.
"He may not be sayin' it, but he's thinking the same thing! I taught him too! Isn't that right, my boy?" Timaeus chuckled, poking fun at Myles.
"Haha, yeah you've been taking me on hunts since I was little. I've learned a lot, but I've never killed a stag as monsterous as Ava's!" He looked upon the roasting deer in amazement over it's sheer size.
"Neither has Timaeus!" Sidra belted out in laughter.
"Hey, now!" Timaeus feigned an angry attitude, folding his arms and exaggerating a look of rage.
"Sister, I can assure you that no matter what my husband says, you have nothing to be jealous of." Rosalia smiled at Sidra, who nodded in response.
"Yeah, yeah! Well, the important thing is that my girl got the big one! I'm proud of you, Ava." Her father's tone turned serious.
"Well, I can agree with you on that. You did good, Ava..." Sidra patted Ava's shoulder.
"I'm glad everyone came to celebrate this with us." Rosalia said smiling warmly at Ava. "Our daughter has brought a great feast to us. It's not everyday that a mother can celebrate her child in such a way. I couldn't ask for a sweeter, smarter, more capable daughter than the one I have now."
Ava sat blushing from the embarrassment of having so much praise and attention. She felt an overwhelming sense of love and warmth. She felt so lucky to have such a caring family. "Heh...thanks..." She mumbled, nervously wringing her hands.
"You're always so humble, Ava. I was there when she shot the thing, and boy was it a good shot! Right through the heart! That deer dropped like a sack of iron ingots! You're pretty damn good with that bow!" Myles exclaimed.
"Yep, that deer didn't stand a chance! Maybe next time you can get your ole' man and his brother to come along with us." Timaeus said to Myles. "He used to come along every chance he had, but here lately I can't get him to do a damn thing with me! I'm beginning to worry about the old boy!" He teased.
Myles averted his eyes from her father. "Heh...yeah..." He mumbled nervously. "I'll see what I can do."
"That'd be great! I miss the old meatheads..." Timaeus smiled.
...
The cuff around Ava's left wrist faded in all of a sudden. She could see her blurry, blood-stained hand laying limply on the floor. How long had she been out? She didn't remember falling asleep. The last thing Ava remembered was crying until she could cry no more. She merely stared blankly at the lock on her cage, until she faded out. She reasoned that maybe the memory she'd had could very well have been a hallucination. Reality was getting a bit blurred since she'd been deprived of food, water, and brutally beaten.
Her vision focused in and out, as her body felt more lifeless by the hour. Her eyes slowly moved about the cavern, trying to focus. She feared that any moment Myles would come back to finish her off. Ava reckoned that the only reason he hadn't was for the sick pleasure of letting her suffer.
The cave seemed to grow dimmer by the minute. Her surroundings began to grow dark, as a violet smoke began to rise from the depths.
"Ava...Ava..." A woman's gentle voice whispered- - a familiar voice.
"M...othe..r?" Ava managed to speak, her voice extremely hoarse from her dehydrated state.
A beautiful spectral lady rose up from the ground in the purple smoke. "Ava...hold on..." The woman looked so much like her mother, but it couldn't have been. The lady never moved, her hair whipping about her face as if an unknown wind were blowing in her direction.
Ava could feel an icy hand on her shoulder. "Do it for us, my girl. Hang in there." She could see the pale translucent face of her father looking into her eyes.
She had a sinking feeling about the ghosts she was witnessing. These had to be hallucinations..."A..am...I...dying...?" She whimpered, barely above a whisper.
"Not as long as you hold on..." Timaeus said, fading out. Rosalia had vanished as well, leaving her alone once more.
Two days Cicero had journied against the raging storm. The cruel wind and freezing ice had subsided, leaving the jester in a terrible way. His feet and legs were numb with cold, and his very body felt as if it would give out at any moment. Cicero's torn motley was no means of protection from the brutal cold, leaving him susceptible to freezing to death.
Trudging ever forward, the jester had little idea where he currently stood. The intense white blur of the storm had caused Cicero to become confused as to which direction he'd been travelling. Now he stood in the dead silence of the night, legs painfully weak and trembling, and wondering where to go.
In the distance Cicero could see a couple of faint lights moving in his direction. The jester squinted hard, trying to make out the figures that were travelling his way. As they moved closer, he could make out two torches. Cicero wanted to quickly bound in their direction, but found himself much too flimsy to do such.
Taking a couple of forced steps, one of Cicero's exhausted legs buckled below him, plunging his knee into the snow. The two figures had become more clear in the distance. They were guards. Maybe they could help feeble Cicero!
"YOU! GUARDS! HEEEELP! HELP POOR CICERO!" He screeched desperately, waving his arms. Cicero could hear how frail and raspy his voice sounded from the severe condition he was currently in. He yelled, flailing about as his other leg gave way, plummeting him face-first into the fallen snow.
"Pleeeaaassseee..." He whimpered pitifully. The two guards had noticed him in the distance, and had rushed to his aid, now leaning over him.
"What in Oblivion happened to you?" The female guard asked, taking hold of his left arm.
"C-Cicero was caught in the blizzard...He became lost...doesn't know where he is..." The jester mumbled, feeling as if he'd lose consciousness at any moment.
"Why on Nirn would you be travelling in this mess?!" The male guard asked in bewilderment, grabbing his right arm as the two helped him to his feet.
"Cicero was searching for his..." The jester's lips slowly quit moving, as his head slumped forward. His body grew limp once more, pulling down on the two guards and causing them to stumble from his dead weight.
"This fellow's in pretty rough shape. He's done gone and passed out on us." The man said, eyeing the unconscious jester.
"We'd better hurry and get him to Kynesgrove before it's too late." The woman said, as the two began to carry Cicero's limp body to shelter.
Ava dabbed her trembling fingers in a small pool of water at the edge of the cage. She attempted to lick the moisture from her hand to wet her barren throat, but it was so very little water. After repeating the process a good number of times, her mouth was not so barren, but her thirst had been far from quenched.
She had seen hide nor hair of Myles since he'd nearly beat her to death. Ava had concluded that he'd left her to die a slow and painful death, and perhaps she would never see him again. She'd also reasoned that she would never see anyone again. Ava felt she had made the ultimate mistake, and this would be her punishment. With her body growing weaker by the moment, she knew it was only a matter of time before she'd be slipping into the Void.
If Ava had any tears left to cry, she would surely spend the rest of her life sobbing in misery. She had truly lost it all - - her family in Cyrodiil, her dark family, her best friend, and now her very life was coming to an end.
"I've...been...so...foolish..." She mumbled to herself, barely above a whisper. "I...guess...I...deserve...this..."
Out of everyone in the Dark Brotherhood, Ava would miss Cicero most of all. How she wished she could go back in time and take heed to his warning...
"Ava...Are you still in here?" Myles's voice came echoing from the passageway. He stepped into the area and up to her cage. "What am I saying? Of course you are! You can't go anywhere! Haha! Did you miss me?" He asked mockingly.
Ava glared at the deranged man in silence. She wished he would either kill her and get it over with, or simply leave her alone to die in peace. Why did he have to repeatedly taunt her while she was suffering? Ava knew why - - because he was a scorned man who blamed every unfortunate event in his life on her. How many others out there were just like him? How many people would love to see her dead, knowing what she was?
Sure, she wasn't responsible for Myles's unfortunate life, but it didn't stop her from hating herself. Maybe Ava did ruin everything she touched. She'd surely ruined many lives along her dark path. Now she'd be harming her dark siblings as well - - soon they would be without their Listener, just as Cicero had warned. She began to feel intense rage toward herself, as she felt as if she were nothing; nothing but a dark vortex, devouring everything it came into contact with.
"Why...don't you just...kill me and get it...over with? Do yourself...do...everyone...a favor..." She spoke in disgust with herself, her anger and rage turning inward.
"Hahaha...You would like that wouldn't you - - for me to show you some mercy and end your suffering? Well...I could do that, but I won't. Well, not yet anyway. Not until I'm satisfied...but I will, however, leave you with some interesting news. It's my former commander. I'm sure you know him. Remember? His name's Commander Maro. Well, before I discontinued my duties, I told him a little secret. Haha, I told him about you. I told him you killed the Emperor, and that you were still alive. I know where you've been holing up at in Dawnstar, and I told him that too. Every Agent around knows it was you who killed his son. He informed us all about that little shenanigan. They didn't know it was you at first, per se, but you fit Maro's description of the assassin who murdered the fake Emperor to the tee. And that assassin killed his son, so being the intelligent man that I am, I put two and two together. It was you, and he knows...He'll certainly be out for revenge. Of course, he will never find you, as you'll be good and dead by then. However, he will probably roast that little Sanctuary of yours to the ground to get to you. You see, he assumed you had died back in Falkreath along with those other gutless bastards. It's actually quite funny!" Myles laughed, turning about and heading out of the area. "Well, I believe I'll leave you with that for now..."
Cicero's eyes burst open, as his body jolted, nearly causing him to spill out of the bed and onto the tavern floor. The jester looked frantically about, trying to figure his whereabouts. A brunette Nord in peasant clothes walked into the room upon hearing his movement.
"I see you've come to..." The woman spoke.
"What happened? Where is Cicero?" The jester asked, puzzled by his current whereabouts.
"This is the Braidwood Inn in Kynesgrove. I'm Iddra, and I run the shop here. Apparently you were lost and nearly died out there in the cold. A couple of guards found you and brought you here. I tried doctoring you up a bit, but I can't do too much seeing as I have no more healing potions. You're still pretty tore up, from the looks of you. I'd say good old fashioned rest is what you're gonna need." She explained to the baffled jester.
"REST?! Cicero CANNOT rest! He needs to find his - - AAAGGGHHH!" Attempting to stand up from off the bed, the jester's legs buckled in, causing him to fall hopelessly to the floor. Oh, why were Cicero's miserable legs so uncooperative? He desperately needed to find his Listener, and now even Cicero's own body had turned against him!
"Woah, now!" Iddra exclaimed, helping the jester back onto the bed. "What are you trying to do? You're in no shape to go anywhere! You'll just have to let your body heal. You nearly died out there..." She explained, trying to talk some sense into Cicero.
"Cicero CANNOT wait!" The jester growled at Iddra. "He needs to leave NOW!"
"Look, I'm not trying to stop you...but you can't get out of bed as it is. Why are you in such a hurry anyway? What is so important to you that you need to risk dying?" Iddra asked, bewildered by the jester's frantic behavior.
"It's his Lis...er...his dear friend. He needs to FIND her!" Cicero explained. "She ran away...Cicero needs to make sure she is UNHARMED! OH, if only he could SEE her once more..." Cicero whimpered.
Iddra seated herself across from the jester, looking intrigued by his statement. "It sounds like you really care for this woman, to risk so much to find her."
"Oh...Cicero does..." The jester said, speaking softly.
"This woman...she's very lucky to have a man care for her in such a way. I have to say...I'm a little jealous of that. I doubt my husband Kjeld would do such a thing for me. The only perilous journeys he makes are the ones to go off with other women..." She sighed, scowling.
Cicero studied for a moment while rubbing his chin, a smile forming on his face. "Hmmm...Cicero could KILL him if you like."
"Hahaha! I certainly feel like strangling Kjeld myself sometimes!" Iddra chuckled, seeming to mistake Cicero's offer for a joke. "As one-sided as it may be, I do love the oaf. My children are crazy about him, and he's a good provider...I guess I love him enough to tolerate him."
"Hmmm...very well...Now, HOW does Cicero get his hands on a healing potion? He would GLADLY offer coin to anyone who can provide him one." The jester asked Iddra, in hopes that she could help him. Cicero simply had no time to dally!
Iddra thought for a moment. "Well...Roggi usually has a few potions here and there. I'll ask him when he comes in this evening after he leaves the mine."
"Is Iddra SURE she cannot go and ask for his potion? Cicero would be MOST grateful! " The jester began to coerce.
"I'm not gonna bother Roggi while he's at work! He'll be in shortly...Just rest until he comes in. I'll let you know if he has anything." Iddra said, looking irritated. Oh, why did she refuse to hurry! Couldn't she see that Cicero's situation was urgent?! STUPID wench...Ah, but Cicero had to be patient to get what he so desperately needed...
Babette walked in the darkness, with only a torch to light her way. She'd gone out on her nightly prowl as usual, and the taste of fresh warm blood still lingered on her tastebuds. Ah...An old drunkard with a tankard of Ale was an easy target! All she had to do was catch the man with his head turned and drop a little poison in - -then it was time to feast! Sure his body lay out in the open, but who would suspect an innocent child of doing such a thing? He certainly didn't.
The child of the night was nearing the Sanctuary at this time, seeing her icy breath against a pitch-black sky. For the first time in quite a while, Babette had grown rather worried. She'd seen no sign of Ava or Cicero since they had departed. The Sanctuary had grown eerily silent with the hushed waiting of the assassins for the return of their Listener, and to a much lesser extent, their Keeper.
Babette had grown rather attached to Ava over time. She may have been unusual in terms of a dark sibling, but she was a good friend and a fair leader. Cicero could be overzealous and often irritating at times, but he'd grown on the Vampire as well. She hoped they were alive and safe.
What would the Dark Brotherhood do without those two? Sure, the three of them could scrap by on rumors like they previously had with Astrid; Of course, it would be much harder for the Brotherhood to prosper...if any.
She'd spent countless years as an assassin, and these sort of situations were familiar to her. Leaders would come and go, and life would go on. However, the Brotherhood was struggling as it was, and she didn't know if it could stand another blow.
Ava now lay on her back, sprawled on the damp floor of the cave. Attempting to listen to her Father's words, she tried to hold on to what life she had left.
"I'm...sorry...Cicero..." She moaned, feeling delirious now more than ever. She could see the jester's dark grin...his wicked, yet foolish expression...and she missed it so. She reached forward, toward the illusion hovering overhead. She suddenly noticed her hand appeared to be wearing a black velvet-covered glove with gold threads embellishing the cuffs.
Ava moved her hand in front of her face, straining to see the glove that had magically attached itself to her. "Ha...haha...ha..." She laughed to herself, feeling somehow light and airy. Why did she feel so...wispy...as if she'd be blown away by a whisper of breath?
Her surroundings grew incredibly dark, and she could see a bright fire burning around her, engulfing her. "Oh...my Sanctuary...Night Mother...forgive me...I...never meant harm...to my family..." Ava whispered, thinking of her home in Dawnstar going up in flames just like Falkreath. Myles had told her whereabouts, and for all she knew, Commander Maro may have slaughtered all her dark siblings, and it would be all her fault.
"Tell me, Listener...Do you believe Cicero NOW?!" Ava could hear her Keeper's voice speaking. Was it real? Ava wasn't so sure anymore.
"Yes...yes, I...believe...you...I should've listened...to you..." She whispered, her eyes feeling so very heavy.
"Listener...You DO know how Cicero feels about you, hmmm?" His voice rang out.
"I...don't...know..."
"Hmmm...Maybe not...Ah, but perhaps Listener knows how SHE feels about her Keeper?" He chuckled, his icy breath tickling her cheeks. Why was he so cold? Why was the world so chilling and dark? What was happening?
"I've...never really...thought about it..." She replied. Of course, now that he mentioned it...Ava wanted nothing more than to reach out and touch him. She moved her finger toward his crimson hair, not feeling it, but instead passing through the hallucination in her mind. What she wouldn't give to have him next to her at this moment. Why did she never see it before?
Cicero was more than a dear friend and companion - - he was a man who she cared for. He was a man in which she could look into and see a part of herself. He accepted her for all of her - - not just the her innocent side, but her darkness as well. This feeling...Why did she never realize what it was? Maybe she had been so guarded - - so closed up that she never aknowledged why it felt so easy and natural to be around the jester.
The corner of Ava's lips lifted in a faint smile. "I...do...feel it..." She whispered, closing her heavy eyes.
"What do you feel, Ava? Do tell..." Myles stepped into the room, his piercing eyes full of malice.
"Cicero! Hey! Wake up..." The jester awoke to find Iddra shaking him by the arm.
"You mean Cicero fell ASLEEP?! ARRGGHHH! Cicero did NOT want to sleep! Iddra was supposed to keep him ALERT! OH, what if it is TOO LATE!" The angry jester screeched at the Nord woman.
"You have an awfully strange way of saying thanks. Here." Iddra said, holding out a healing potion.
"OOOHHHHH!" Cicero squealed in delight, his demeanor instantly changing at the sight of the precious bottle. "Ah, so the Roggi man DID have a potion. HOO HOO! How much does Cicero owe him, hmn?"
"Oh, it's not from Roggi - - he was all out. I did a little trading for this. That strange fellow that keeps asking for poison came by a while back and traded the potion to another mine laborer for what he wanted. I just so happened to have a little talk with that miner. It's all yours - - on the house." She smiled, gently shaking the potion.
"What...Strange...fellow?" Cicero asked suspiciously, narrowing his eyes.
"Ah, he's some Imperial fellow that kept coming in here asking for poison. He said something about a Skeever problem...I don't know - - I mean, he's kind of odd. He doesn't ask for poison anymore, just plenty of drink. Roggi and Kjeld said they seen him travelling in and out of a cave about a mile from here. I mean, he's polite and all, but...I don't know...there's something that seems a bit...off...about him to me." Iddra shrugged.
Cicero's eyes grew wide and filled with terror. He had no time to lose! The jester forcefully grabbed the potion from Iddra's hand, guzzling it down as quickly as possible. Cicero could feel the tonic working within. Unfortunately, it wouldn't heal him completely for it was a rather standard healing fare - - not the type of miracle cure that an Ultimate or Extreme mixture would provide. But alas, it was enough! Wonderful, happy, sweet Cicero could stand and move once more!
"Cicero THANKS you!" The jester huffed, bolting out of the tavern and leaving Iddra standing in bewilderment at his impulsive nature. Finally Cicero had some strength and direction! This time there was no big awful blizzard to slow sly Cicero down.
The jester left Kynesgrove, in search of a very close cavern. He felt intense pain and aching still, but he was able to quicky travel nonetheless. It was only a matter of time before his thirsty blade would drink this vile Imperial man's blood...and Cicero would enjoy nothing more than to indulge his dagger once more.
Myles sat in his chair facing Ava, his piercing eyes focused on her. Among the hazy darkness Ava could still see his evil glare, and it brought fear to her soul. Was this the end? Was he planning on finally taking her life?
"I said, what do you feel? I'm curious..." Myles asked in a low growl.
Ava knew good and well the feeling she had for the jester. It was an intimate one. She wasn't going to tell Myles, however. She'd rather die than give him the satisfaction of her innermost thoughts. "I...feel...afraid..." She spoke faintly.
"Smart girl - - you should be." He spat, reaching under his chair to grasp the hilt of the Imperial sword that had rested beneath. "Now...I'm growing tired of our little game. I do like to watch you suffer, but I'm still finding myself wanting more. I'm afraid our time together is running out, dear friend." He said, looking into the blade.
Ava could feel her adrenaline surge, causing her heart to forcefully pound in her chest. She knew how weak and helpless she had become, and now she was going to see her death. Darkness spilled even more, surrounding her. The world was blotted out by the darkness; only Myles and his gleaming sword were left. This man, who she once trusted as a dear and loving friend, she now felt a sick hatred toward.
The sadistic man slowly turned a key, unlocking the door to the cage. "I have to say...I never thought I would get the opportunity to show you what you've done to me...for that I am grateful..." He knelt down, grinning at her.
Ava slowly shook her head. "No...I didn't...do this...to...you...Your family...they did this...to...me..." She strained to speak, her face full of both anger and agony. If Myles was going to murder her anyway, he was at least going to hear the truth. Ava may not have been an innocent person, but she certainly knew she didn't ruin his life. She figured she had enough dark secrets to take to her grave and that this wasn't going to be one of them. She despised Myles, and she wasn't about to pretend his warped view of reality was the truth.
"Very well, Ava. I understand you think you're the victim in all of this, but the truth is...You and I are very similar. We're both murderers...right? We both do the wrong thing...we both get the shit end of the deal...well you get the bad ending this time. I, on the other hand, get a bit of relief for once." Myles chuckled to himself, giving Ava a sick, bitter feeling inside.
"I'm...so...happy for you..." Ava growled sarcastically. "Just...kill me...and...get...it...over with." She groaned, fearing death but desperately needing an escape from her intense torment.
"YOU don't get to decide when I kill you!" Myles screamed, balling his fist while tightening his grip on the Imperial sword. "I have the power here, not YOU!"
"Oh, Mother...forgive me for leaving..." Ava began to wail, feeling hopeless. "I'm so sorry I didn't listen to Cicero...Ohhh..." Tears began to stream down her cheeks.
"Haha, where's your dear Cicero now? Looks like he gave up on you, doesn't it?" Myles laughed mockingly in her face.
"I...hate...you..." Ava glared, tears trailing down her cheeks.
"Hahaha...This really is the perfect moment, isn't it? This is just how I want to remember your last moments...angry, desperate, and full of despair...I guess I have nothing more to do..." Myles said, cathartically.
"Wha-" Before Ava could speak, she felt a sharp driving pain in her stomach. She looked down, where the razor sharp blade had penetrated, with traces of blood trickling down the sides of it. She weakly looked at Myles, who glared at Ava, drinking in the very sight of his blade piercing her flesh. A dark mist filled her vision, and she could feel her body begin to grow numb...
The jester stalked silently in the shadows, peering around the corner and into the cavern where his Listener had been imprisoned. His body felt sick with injury and severe fatigue, but he forced himself to trudge along for her...
Cicero could see him, kneeling before his Listener. What was that he saw in the man's hand? A sword - - plunged into his Listener! Cicero's eyes became wide and intense, his body growing tense with fury and fear. This man was KILLING her!
Ignoring the impulse to pounce, Cicero thought better of it. He could very well slit her throat if Cicero surprised him. The jester crouched, slinking through the shadowy cavern like a cunning serpent ready for its prey.
He glided into the cage right behind the pathetic creature, his eyes darting to his Listener's body. She moaned in pain, with tears streaming down her face. Cicero could see the blood oozing from her body, and his heart raced in terror at the very sight of it.
Holding his breath, he glided his hand over the hilt of his blade, pulling it out ever so gently, as not to make the TINIEST sound. The jester loomed behind the ignorant fool, wishing he could torture the man and bask in his torment. Ah, but he had to act quickly and save his dear Listener.
With one sharp plunge, Cicero's black dagger drove its way through the back of Myles's neck, cracking his vertebrae and severing an artery. The jester could hear his attempts at screaming, while his mouth spewed blood and his body fell limp on the floor, gasping for air like a slaughterfish out of water.
Cicero swiftly kicked Myles's dying body to the side, kneeling in front of his Listener, who was struggling to hold on to her life. Her eyes looked glassy, and her hands trembled around the sword that stuck out of her abdomen.
"C...Cicero..is...th..at...you?" His Listener asked faintly, her glazed eyes meeting his.
"L-Listener...Yes, it's Cicero." Cicero answered, finding himself extremely shaken by the state he'd found her in. "Listener, you're hurt badly...Cicero needs to know where he kept his potions..." His voice trembling, Cicero found himself feeling more frightened than he'd ever felt in his entire life. He could see the life draining from her with every labored breath.
"I...don't...know..." Ava whimpered, placing her frail hand on Cicero's. "I'm...sorry...for...leaving...you...It...was...a...st..upid...thing...to...do..."
"Shhhh...Listener, hold on. Please...Cicero will be back." He said, his voice quivering as tears welled up in his eyes. The jester bolted out of the area, and frantically searched every place he could find. He dug through the large chest toward the cave entrance, but came up empty-handed. Cicero searched every chest and table he laid eyes on, but found not one healing mixture. He began to panic intensely. His Listener HAD to have a healing potion, or else she would surely perish! Cicero couldn't LIVE without her...
"AAAARRRGGGGG! NOOOO! VILE BASTARD! WHERE DOES HE KEEP HIS POTIONS?!" Cicero pulled at his hair, screaming in rage. NO! He COULDN'T go on without her; Cicero was NOT going to sit back and let his Listener DIE!
In a raging fit, the jester bounded back to the cage, picking up Myles's dead body by the shoulders and shaking it violently. "DISGUSTING! VILE! PUTRID WORM! MAGGOT!"
Cicero shook Myles's corpse with such force that his satchel fell from him, dropping onto the floor. Catching a glimpse of the bag, Cicero quickly dropped the man and grabbed the satchel, digging frantically through it's contents.
"Oh GLORIOUS SWEET MOTHER herself! OH, Cicero FOUND it!" The jester squealed in glee, holding a healing potion. He turned to Ava, who sat with her head slumped over. The jester crawled to her, gently holding her head up.
"Cicero..." She mouthed, her voice barely audible.
"Listener, hold on. Now, Cicero is going to pull the sword out...drink this very very fast, Listener..." The jester gulped nervously, bracing the Imperial sword in one trembling hand and holding the potion with the other. "Cicero is sorry, but he must do this..."
The jester gave the sword a quick, sharp pull, extracting it from her abdomen. Blood began to gush from the wound, causing his Listener to wail in pain. Catching her with her mouth agape, he forced the potion into it while pressing his other hand on her stomach to try and lessen the bleeding.
"DRINK!" Cicero demanded, fearing his Listener wouldn't be able to down the potion in time.
Almost involuntarily, she began to swallow the tonic as it poured down her throat. Cicero could still feel the pressure of her blood trying to force its way out from between his fingers. The jester felt completely helpless, fearing blood loss would kill her before the healing mixture could take effect.
His Listener drank the whole bottle, coughing and gagging for air after it was finished. Much to his dismay, she suddenly became so very still and quiet...as death.
"L-Listener?! LISTENER! NO! PLEASE DON'T DIE...NO...CICERO WON'T LET YOU! HE NEEDS YOU!" He began to wail, fearing the worst. His Listener just couldn't die...Cicero would be NOTHING without her...
Feeling the pressure subside from his hand, the jester pulled away from her abdomen. Blood was no longer gushing from the wound, which meant either she'd bled to death or the gaping hole had closed from the potion.
Cicero held his breath, tearing her dress to examine the gash in her stomach. Much to his joy and relief, the wound was closing before his eyes. His gaze lifted to her chest, which was no longer laboring up and down in shallow gasps, but now gently moving and taking in deeper breaths.
"Listener...can you hear Cicero?" He asked, lips quivering in hope that she would be okay.
"...Yes..." She said softly, her voice sounding a bit stronger than before. She opened her eyes, looking directly into the jester's. "I'm so sorry...for what I've done..." She pleaded.
Cicero's heart thumped wildly, knowing his Listener was stabilizing, despite her desperate condition. "Listener doesn't need to apologize to her Keeper..." He said softly. "Cicero was afraid he would lose you forever..."
"You're a good friend, Cicero..." She smiled.
Ah, there was that smile. Despite being bruised and battered, and even coming back from the brink of death, his Listener was still the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen. She had a smile that could stop his very heart from beating. He studied it, drank it in, and let it fill him up. He watched her arm move - - toward him. Much to his surprise, he felt her delicate hand around the back of his neck.
The jester felt her pull him so very close to her, their foreheads now touching against one another. Cicero wasn't sure what she was doing, but he felt a tingling sensation run through his entire body.
"You saved my life..." She whispered, her breath warm on his face. He loved being this close to her. Touching her. Being in this moment with her. He wanted nothing more than this. "Thank you...I know I don't deserve it...but, thank you..."
"Listener doesn't need to thank Cicero...the fact that Listener is ALIVE is enough for Cicero...That is all he cares about..." He grinned, both joyous and relieved.
Before he could utter another word, the Keeper found himself being pulled in by his Listener. She brought her other hand up to touch his face, pulling his lips into her own. Overtaken by shock and surprise, Cicero froze, feeling her warm, soft lips pressing against his. He felt overpowered by her affections, which he'd secretly craved for so very long.
Breathing heavily from exhileration, Cicero wrapped his arms around her as her mouth parted from his. She returned his embrace, as they sat wrapped in each other's arms. What the jester felt inside himself was something powerful - - even more powerful than the laughter within...
Suddenly, his Listener's arms weakened as she let go of him. Confused by her abrupt lack of contact, Cicero looked down at her. Her eyes were closed, and her arms hung limply at her sides.
"Listener?!" Cicero quipped, worriedly. When his Listener didn't reply, he gently laid her back against the cage bars. He leaned in close, noticing her still breathing in a relaxed manner. She had appeared to have collapsed from exhaustion. The jester breathed a sigh of relief. His dear Listener was alive and well, and her Keeper would ensure that his beloved Listener returned to the Dark Brotherhood - - to her home.