Author's Note: Here's chapter 25! Hope you guys enjoy! As always, thanks to everyone who reads/reviews/favs/follows! I appreciate all of it very much. It makes writing this even more enjoyable than it already is. Thanks!

Chapter 25: Stranger Things

Ava sat fiddling with her quill and vigorously patting her foot on the floor, feeling rather impatient and stir-crazy from being cooped up in the Falkreath Sanctuary for a bit. She'd been participating in her normal routine of splitting the contracts between the two Sanctuaries. She had just finished writing the letter per standard procedure, and sat fidgeting as she eyed over her words to make sure as not to leave anything out.

She'd not heard so much as a word from Nazir on his travels, and that worried her. She didn't care in the least for Lielle, but despite that fact, she hoped they hadn't met an ill-end. However, she felt relieved that Lielle was no longer around to antagonize her every waking moment. After initially being an emotional mess, the mage's absence helped Ava to clear her head and have some peace of mind for once.

She hadn't seen her Keeper since her last unfortunate visit, either. Since her raw emotions had cooled off a bit, she found herself feeling conflicted about Cicero. Part of her felt relieved that she didn't have to be face to face in any cringe-worthy situations with him. Ava figured it would certainly be awkward to see him once more, given that she'd not left him on the best of terms. She didn't like the thought of facing that hurt once more, though the intensity of it all had fell from a burning pain to a subtle ache.

The other part of her wondered how he was, and what he was doing. That part also realized that she was mostly to blame that he did look elsewhere for affection. He'd been loyal, treated her well, accepted her, and even saved her life at one point. She was the one who turned him away, and she regretted it more by the minute. Ava sighed, twirling her quill about and thinking of how truly stupid she felt for leaving the ring behind with an angry note like some scorned, jealous wife getting back at her unfaithful husband. How truly mad was she?! They weren't even in a relationship together, for Sithis' sake!

Maybe she'd just pretend it never happened - - avoid, avoid, avoid like she always did. Maybe she'd just be the Listener and he'd be the Keeper. She could avoid all those pesky, confusing feelings and focus on her duties like she kept reminding herself she needed to. If Cicero didn't say anything, then she wouldn't. That would be simple and easy. Hopefully.

"Ugh..." Ava laid her head on her desk, feeling like a downright foolish woman for her uncertainty and silly outbursts.

"Listener?" Ava jerked up, seeing Vottur's large frame standing in her doorway.

"Oh! Sorry, I was just...finishing this letter." She quickly rolled up the parchment, securing it with a leather strip and placing their infamous seal on the front of it. "It's ready to be sent to Dawnstar, if you'd like to have it now." She stood up, approaching the Nord and holding the letter out.

"Very well. I have something for you as well." He stated, holding out a letter appearing to be from Babette. "I have no clue what it's about, but she rarely writes for any reason other than discussing contracts. It's unusual." Vottur said, peering over her shoulder as she immediately opened the letter.

Ava read on, brow furrowed with a mixed look of concern and curiosity. "Vottur...One of our assassins captured a woman. Well, I guess captured isn't the right word. She seems to have voluntarily turned herself in. She claims to have information on Maro, and she says she can aid us in his extermination. Babette is having her sent here. They have her in the torture chamber in Dawnstar for now." Ava paused a moment, taking it all in. She locked eyes with the large Nord, meeting his unchanging expression. "...I-I...don't know what to think..."

"I think we need to question her when she arrives - - make sure she isn't against us..." He remarked. "It's not everyday that someone willingly turns themselves into the clutches of the Dark Brotherhood, Listener...It doesn't sound right."

"You're certainly right about that..." Ava replied, thinking of how strange things had become lately - - even by the Brotherhood's standards. First the mysterious letter, and now a strange woman had shown up unannounced. What was next? If anything, this seemed to be a sobering reality check for Ava. Possible threats were looming everywhere. At that moment, Ava reassured herself that the last thing she needed to worry about was her petty romantic feelings for her Keeper.

A couple of days had passed since the news of the stranger had spread among the Dark Brotherhood, and Ava had little idea of when she'd actually arrive at Falkreath. She hoped the woman was telling the truth, for any information about Maro meant the Brotherhood would have that much more of an advantage when trouble came - - and it surely would. It was only a matter of time.

She sat in the large, central cavern by the cool waters watching some assassins train with Vottur. She smiled in amusement, watching the Nord knock the weapon out of an eager young initiate's hand with such force that the poor fellow stumbled, falling back on his rear.

The grating of stone could be heard from the entrance of Falkreath, and Ava could feel her body instantly tense up, wondering if this was the prisoner or merely another dark sibling returning from a kill.

Ava involuntarily raised from her seat when she caught sight of who'd entered the Black Door. A young Imperial woman stood silently, head raised in a high, almost proud manner. Her dark brunette locks were worn in a plait that fell to her waist, and she wore a plain peasant's tunic.

Her hands were tied behind her back, but she didn't seem to struggle or put up any sort of fight. Ava swallowed hard, seeing that none other than the jester stood behind her, sheathing his ebony blade. He wore the look of a deadly assassin rather than a foolish madman, his face as severe and serious as death.

Vottur stopped his training, as did the others. A hush fell over the room, as Ava forced herself to approach them, not sure how to react to the situation or seeing her Keeper. Ava cleared her throat, mentally and physically composing herself. She needed to be the Listener now, not a young woman intimidated by her own emotions.

"Ah, Listener...So good to see you. Cicero has brought our little spy for you." Cicero's features stayed sharp, not showing the faintest form of a smile.

Ava could feel her heart begin to race. Was he angry? Did he hate her? No, now wasn't the time for that. She needed to speak to the Imperial girl. "Thank you, Cicero." She said formally, internally cringing from the way they were interacting with one another. She turned her attention to the young woman, who'd been staring silently, head still raised high. "You...You say you can aid us with Maro?"

The woman's dark brown eyes met with Ava, and she began to speak in a calm manner. "Yes, I can. I'm in a position that enables me to aquire any information necessary that you need to rid yourselves of Commander Maro, and perhaps any others that are affiliated with him. I can spy on him at any given time, and I can tell you his most intimate affairs when it comes to matters of his personal agenda against you and your dark establishment. I assure you, I am no enemy. I'm quite the opposite, really."

Vottur stepped up beside Ava, as she folded her arms, pondering things over. "Why turn yourself into us?" The Vampire asked, seemingly baffled by this stranger.

"I realize this makes no sense to any of you, but it makes absolute sense to myself. Let's just say I have nothing to lose at this point in my life."

"Tell me, then...Who are you?" Ava asked, puzzled and wishing to reveal the woman's true motivations.

"My name is Violet...Maro...I am his eldest child - - the one he'd rather not let on about. My younger brother Gaius, the man your Brotherhood murdered, was his pride and joy. I've been nothing but a curse and a burden in his eyes since the day I was born. He and Gaius were two of the same, I'm afraid. They both spoke of honor, valor, and protecting one's land and citizens; yet behind closed doors they were far worse than the likes of those they pursued. If you'd like to know why I am doing this, it is for my own personal gain. Of course, my gain in this matter shall be of your benefit, I'm most certain. I want Maro dead as much as you do, if not perhaps more. The cruel, unrelenting man I call a father has ruined my very being, and I want him to pay for it. You've all done me a great favor in murdering Gaius. Please, grant me one more. I can tell you whatever you need to know. I can spy and plant information - - whatever you need. Believe me, he has caused me such pain - - such grief. A woman with a vengeful spirit can do things she never thought possible within herself..." The woman professed, her voice sounding quite elegant and refined. Ava could figure that she came from noble status just from her manner of speech and the way she carried herself. If this woman was telling the truth, then the Brotherhood contained a quite powerful and useful weapon.

Ava stood quietly looking the slender young woman over, piecing together all that she'd heard and milling over it. Her eyes involuntarily trailed from Violet to Cicero. He stood, gloved hand on his hip, waiting silently for her command. His eyes had been fixated on Ava, perhaps the whole time. His face seemed so cold and intimidating. Ava felt herself tense under his gaze. She didn't know what it meant, as it was hard to read him. However, she needed to speak to him whether she liked it or not.

"Cicero, you can take her to our chambers. We have a spare room in the sleeping quarters, if you wish to stay." Ava stated, afraid of the distance that she felt between Cicero and herself. This didn't feel right at all.

"As you wish, Listener..." The jester slightly bowed his head, leading Violet out of the room and into the passageway that lead to the prison. Ava didn't like the way he behaved so unlike himself. What was he thinking?

"Don't waste your time trying to figure him out, Listener. He's a madman. Remember that." Vottur remarked, seeming to have noticed Ava studying the Keeper.

"Yes...You're right. I have bigger things to deal with." Ava nodded, as if to reassure herself that she didn't need to fret over Cicero.

Cicero pressed his ear to the door of his guest room, attempting to decipher the mangle of voices he'd been hearing over and over. He'd been listening to the muffled speech as he sat at his table, whittling the end of a harmless wooden ladle into a menacing shiv. He couldn't stand the temptation any longer, as he'd immediately recognized one as the soft voice of his Listener.

His Listener...So very many thoughts whirled in Cicero's head about her. The jester's head throbbed with every failed attempt to make sense of her. Poor Cicero thought she was his friend. No, that is what she wanted him to think...He thought she could be more - - much more. But, no! Never! She told him long ago that he was Keeper and she was Listener. Nothing more...But what of now? Was she nothing? Were they nothing? Cicero didn't think so. Cicero knew they were something, whether she admitted it or not. The way she smiled so warmly at her foolish Keeper, the way she accepted and enjoyed Cicero's company, and the way she let him in when others shunned his madness made him think more. There was simply no helping it.

Madness. That was it. His Listener was mad. Her lips would lie to her Keeper. They would tell him she thought nothing of him, but her actions spoke many volumes. Why did his Listener become so distressed with Cicero? She thought ill of him. Listener thought that he sought after another woman, and a disgusting strumpet at that. Jealousy, jealousy, jealousy. Madness. She was mad - - far madder than Cicero.

The jester's eyes narrowed, realizing the second voice belonged to none other than that filthy Blood-sucker that trailed behind her like a shadow. If Listener cared for her Keeper - - became possessive over him like she was - - then why did she constantly seek the company of the undead Nord? Was her Keeper unfit to speak with her anymore? His Listener was so very difficult to decipher.

Cicero reached into his satchel, pulling out the discarded ring his Listener had left him. He squeezed it tightly, so that it burned in the palm of his hand. Perhaps they were nothing. Perhaps Listener wasn't so sweet and kind, after all. Perhaps it was all a funny joke - - a game - - and Cicero was merely her plaything. She was toying with stupid Cicero - - pulling him in with her kindess and allure, only to push him back when she found it amusing to do so. Back and forth like a pendulum. Did Listener not see that Cicero wanted her? Did she not see that it pained him so to be stuck following her and obeying her every whim, while pretending she was nothing more than his master? Her Keeper tried to ensure her safety, making sure the mage wasn't planning on harming his dear Listener. Then what did she do? She left poor Cicero, and went running to that pathetic Blood-sucker! Treated Cicero as if he was some sort of enemy! Listener forgot how much he'd went out of his way for her! How he cared for his Listener - - never once begrudging her - - even though Cicero wanted so badly to be Listener himself! How he saved her when she ran after her vile man-friend who told her cruel lies! Always choosing another over her Keeper! Always. Always. Always. WHY?!

Cicero growled to himself, feeling intense resentment boil in his veins. If only he could stab, stab, stab that big, nasty Blood-sucker! How he'd love to slay every man she laid eyes on, until there was nobody left but her Keeper! Then maybe Listener would see how mad she truly was for not choosing him! Maybe Cicero could make her see. Perhaps Cicero wouldn't be so obedient anymore. It was Cicero's turn to toy with her. Perhaps he'd let her have her way for far too long...

Ava stood at her doorway speaking to Vottur and trying to come up with some sort of feasible way to deal with the prisoner. "It all sounds so promising, but I'm afraid to just send her back to Maro. What if this is all some lie? We can't be positive it's not...She seems real, but we have no way of knowing for sure."

Vottur silently pondered on the matter, expressionless and hard to read as always. "Why don't you send the jester with her. Make him wear a disguise. He's taken her this far as it is. He could easily take her to Maro, as well." He shrugged, folding his arms.

"That is an idea..." Ava pondered aloud.

"Why is it CICERO that ALWAYS has to leave?!" The jester's voice growled from down the dark corridor, causing both Ava and Vottur to turn their heads in surprise.

Ava could see Cicero's shadowy figure lurking across from them. How long had he been there? He sounded so different...so cold, and with not a drop of warmth to his voice. Ava couldn't help but feel uneasy. "Y-You don't want to?" She quipped, startled by his strange demeanor.

"The Blood-Sucker ALWAYS stays with Listener. Cicero thinks the NORD should leave!"

Vottur turned to Ava. "It's up to you, Listener. I can do it if that lunatic won't. Just remember - - he'll be the one with you while I'm gone. Will you be able to stand him that long?"

Cicero approached them, the faint light from Ava's room painting across his features and revealing his glare, which he now fixated on her. "Is that how you feel, Listener? That you have to TOLERATE your lowly Keeper?"

Ava stood dumbfounded. She didn't say a word, for fear of blurting out the wrong thing.

Cicero scowled, "Cicero takes that as a YES, he supposes..." His face twisted in what looked to be a mixture of a frown and a snarl. He quickly met eyes with Vottur, a devious smile speading across his lips. He clearly looked up to no good. "So how is Listener? Hmmmmnn? Does she MOAN quite a bit? Make a great deal of NOISE when you...FULFILL your DUTIES, hmmm?" The jester cackled, provoking them both with his insinuations. " Cicero has heard it's the QUIET ones that make the most noise!"

"Cicero!" Ava gasped, embarrassed and red-faced with what he was attempting to suggest.

Vottur narrowed his eyes. "What did you say...?"

"Well, Blood-Sucker does ENJOY the Listener so very much! It is only NATURAL for these things to PERPETUATE! Hehe! Was she GOOD, Blood-Sucker? Perhaps even BETTER than that WIFE of yours, hmn?" Cicero raised an eyebrow, taunting the Nord.

Before the jester could so much as utter another sound, Vottur had pounced full-force on top of the Keeper. He hit Cicero as hard as he could, causing the jester to screech with pain.

"STOP! STOP IT! BOTH OF YOU!" Ava yelled, hoping Vottur wouldn't kill Cicero before her eyes.

After a few well-placed hits, Vottur halted his actions due to Ava's command. He'd had the jester held firmly by the collar, and now he'd forcefully let Cicero go, causing the back of the jester's head to thud against the cold stone floor.

Vottur stood, glaring at the foolish Keeper, and clearly only holding back because of Ava. The jester coughed violently, scrambling to his feet. He returned a hardened gaze to the Vampire, as a trail of blood oozed from his bottom lip. "If you make Cicero go, then he will NOT come back - - and neither will the HOSTAGE..." He growled. Ava could see he was serious. The jester would go to any length necessary to stay in Falkreath with her for some reason. Apparently, it would be a terrible decision to send Cicero away.

"Vottur, you can go. Cicero, stay here. Just...stop the fighting. Please..." Ava said, shutting the door and leaving the two standing out in the dark corridor.

Now more than ever Ava wished she hadn't overreacted that night. She felt completely responsible for this mess, and she'd be lucky if the two of them didn't kill each other before the night was over.

Ava peered down the dark corridor outside of her bedroom. It had been a few hours since the debacle that took place there had ended, and now all was quiet. Too quiet. Growing increasingly worried over her companions, she found herself completely unable to sleep. Ava sighed, queitly shutting her door behind her and stepping barefoot down the hallway.

After a bit of sneaking, Ava saw nothing of Vottur whatsoever. She hoped he was merely out feasting for the night, as there were no prisoners about to quench his thirst, save for Violet. Cicero's door had been closed and not a peep came from guest room he'd resided in.

Ava really didn't know what she was doing up pacing about, except for trying to burn off that worrisome energy the events from earlier had left her with. Hopefully Vottur didn't crush her Keeper to death. Why did Cicero have to antagonize the Vampire so? Truly, Ava really didn't blame her Keeper. Maybe she'd just pushed him to his limits. This was all her fault, after all.

After searching about for a while, she crept into the prison. The shadowy chamber was almost empty. Violet sat on a chair, her shadowy figure sitting upright with her hands cuffed above her head to the stone wall. At least her Keeper was curteous enough to let the woman sit rather than dangle there helplessly like their usual prisoners. Violet didn't seem to be in any discomfort or pain. She sat with a quiet dignity about herself, as if she felt a sense of self-righteousness in what she was participating in. She didn't cry or snivel, but Ava thought it would be the right thing to ask her if she needed anything - - food or perhaps a strong drink. She didn't enjoy the thought of letting the young woman needlessly suffer.

"Violet...is it?" Ava asked, catching the young woman's attention. "Do you need anything? Food? Drink? You've been in here a while, and I don't know if Cicero fed you anything..."

"Oh, the jester? He's a strange one, that fellow. He gave me a carrot and a half-empty jug of milk on the way over. I believe the milk was spoiled, so I'd rather not ingest anything else at the moment. Are you perhaps this Listener he keeps speaking of?" Violet asked, curiously.

"Um...Yes...Just what did he say?" Ava's brow furrowed, wondering what Cicero had been saying about her.

"Just the basics, really. Things I'm well aware of, such as the obligatory duties of your position. He informed me who you are, and what you do. I do find your ability to commune with the Night Mother via her dead remains to be rather fascinating." Violet explained, sounding rather intrigued by the subject.

"So these are things you already know? How?" Ava interrogated.

"I know plenty about the Dark Brotherhood and its origins. I've studied just about every piece of literature I could find on the subject. One could say I'm well-versed in knowledge concerning the Black Hand. I like to study, to learn, and to gain knowledge of the world we live in and beyond. I'm a bit of a scholarly type, I suppose."

Ava found herself drawn in by the woman, and now seemed like a perfect time to continue her questioning. She certainly wouldn't be sleeping anytime soon, so perhaps this was a more productive way to distract her mind from the situation. Ava grabbed a nearby chair, dragging it up to Violet and seating herself closely by. Silence filled the room briefly, as Ava sifted through the many questions that filled her mind. "You said you're Maro's daughter. What information can you tell me? What do I need to know?"

Violet paused, as if milling something over in her mind. "You know, I'm quite surprised you hadn't asked me this previously. It is a rather important bit of information - - one that shouldn't be dismissed."

"I guess it is an obvious question." Ava bit her bottom lip nervously, reminded of seeing Cicero again for the first time. He was the reason she'd been so distracted. "I guess my mind has been clouded with other matters, even though it shouldn't be. This is more important."

"I can, with utmost certainty, tell you that he is planning on attacking your Brotherhood; it is only a matter of when." She said, bluntly.

"Yes, I figured as much." Ava sighed. The news was predictable, but quite displeasing to hear regardless of that fact.

"I'm sure you did. But, Listener, you don't know the half of it. I've heard him speaking to General Tullius. I'd wager you know who he is." Violet said as Ava nodded in response. "I believe he's wanting to use the Imperial Legion's forces to rid Skyrim of your kind. The Legion and the Penitus Oculatus do have common ground in where their allegiance lies, yet they are separate entities. My father's forces are supposed to operate independently of the Legion. They are a secret service to the Empire, and are to lay low in their operations as to snuff out any threats. Maro wants to change this. He wants to persuade Tullius to aid him in his attack on the Dark Brotherhood. He wants to appeal to Tullius' ongoing war with Ulfric Stormcloak. Maro thinks wiping out your dark organization will give the Empire as a whole a morale boost, and a strategic edge on Ulfric. The Stormcloaks will get the message of what they are dealing with - - an Empire that is powerful and dangerous enough that it did away with the Dark Brotherhood." Violet explained, matter-of-factly.

The Night Mother didn't exaggerate when she'd told Ava there would be a great uprising. With the Imperial Legion possibly involved, this would be far bigger than Ava had imagined it to be. "You're right. I really didn't know the half of it."

"There's still more to be told, Listener. Maro has been speaking of a weapon of sorts that he plans on using both in his attack and to sway Tullius' opinion of joining with him. Unfortunately, he hasn't revealed so much yet. I do know my father, and any day now he will follow up with the information. He is a strategist to the very core, and he persistently plans his every move until it is executed. I just need to be there to witness it when he divulges the information. As a matter of fact, I need to be there in order to give him the impression that things are as they should be." Violet informed.

"I know he's your father, but just how do you hear all his secret plans? Do you just eavesdrop on him?" Ava questioned.

"You could say that eavesdropping is my current occupation - - I keep records for the Penitus Oculatus. I'm usually in the room when he makes these types of plans. That's why I have to be there, or else he'll become suspicious. I informed him I was going to travel for a bit, but he does expect me back for his briefing with Tullius. Considering the friction between he and the Brotherhood, this would be the first place he'd look if I came up missing. I was quite persistent with telling your companion Babette that I needed to be sent here as soon as possible. I need to get back to Tullius' quarters in Solitude as quickly as I can, Listener."

"I see." Ava sat listening to Violet's explanations, while twiddling her thumbs with nervous anticipation of what was to come. "Well, Vottur plans to accompany you on your travels. When I see him, I'll speak to him of what you told me."

"Oh..." Violet nodded, as if she were silently agreeing with some unspoken rule. "I understand you'd want to take precautions with me. I'd venture to say that this situation does not occur too often. I won't hold it against you, as I realize you are trying to protect your own, and I'll respect that. Though, I think you will come to understand that I am everything I say I am...and more...Listener..."

Ava certainly hoped so. Upon first impression, Violet seemed to be headstrong, intelligent, and truly convicted of her cause. Only time would tell if she would remain true to her word. Even if it all sounded wonderful in theory, it would be madness for Ava to trust a person she barely knew. "It's Ava, by the way. You don't have to call me Listener. Haha...Only a fraction of my family even calls me Listener." She chuckled.

"Which do you prefer?" Violet raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Honestly, I like to be called by my actual name, but I won't say anything if someone chooses to call me Listener." Ava shrugged. "I guess I'm a bit lienient. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing, though..."

Violet smiled, looking amused by Ava's answers. "You know, you aren't anything like I'd imagined you to be."

"Oh?" Ava stopped fiddling her thumbs, interested by Violet's comment.

"Haha, well I expected you to be some intimidating, cold, vengeful being. I guess it rather surprises me that you're so...approachable. Do not take this the wrong way, Ava, but you don't strike me as the Dark Brotherhood type at all, let alone their leader. I dare say you have an interesting story to tell..." She remarked.

"Haha..." Ava chuckled, as the mood seemed to lighten between them. "As you say, you don't know the half of it."

A cold, chilling drizzle danced down on the jester in the dead of night. Cicero had to leave that awful place, if just for a moment. His head pounded and his lip stung from where that disgusting creature had bashed it. Maybe that Blood-sucker was out feeding for the night. Maybe Cicero would luck up and do what he does best - - use the friendship of the beloved shadows as his weapon and kill the foul thing while it was unaware of his presence.

The Keeper snorted, slightly giving off a dark chuckle at the thought of it. Madness, it was! Mother would never approve, so he'd just have to hold off from his dark urges. Oh, but they were so intense and so persistant. The urge to gut the Blood-sucker like a slaughterfish crawled over his skin like a thousand tiny, prickly spiders tickling his flesh. The darkness within wanted so very badly to be released. His darkness - - his constant companion. His jester. His madness. It was as if a gateway to the Void itself lurked deep within his soul. It was hate. It was rage. It was love. It was everything. It was nothing.

"Madness is merry...and merriments might..." He sang out softly in a low, unnerving manner. No, he couldn't let his wrath out. He had to be good. Obedient. Subservient. He needed to watch his mouth around his Listener. He didn't need to cross the line and break a tenet by disobeying her, though he was so very close. If Listener had told him to go with the hostage, then he ultimately would have. Wouldn't he? Rules, rules, rules. Cicero was always obeying those who never rewarded his faithfulness. Mother never made him Listener, no matter how hard he'd suffered for her. Listener never returned his affections no matter how much he lavished her with his own.

"As the jester comes calling...with his knife in the night..." He continued, his eerie singing echoing through the thick forest in the dark. Why did they reject him so? He'd given his life to the Brotherhood long ago, only to endure the cold silence of rejection.

Why, even his putrid trollop of a mother rejected poor Cicero. Sleeping with every drunken, honied-worded ruffian that gave her the slightest traces of affection. She left poor Cicero to rot - - a young man scrubbing filthy floors in a tavern while she lay down with every vile beast around. Bastard. That's what Cicero was - - what everyone knew him to be. Mocked him, they did. A wretched, red-headed bastard son. A burden. Oh, but he made them pay...They all paid, in the end. Just a tiptoe in the dark and a kiss from his razor's edge would send them away. That's when he'd discovered his talents - - his beautiful, dark calling.

The Brotherhood noticed Cicero's fine-tuned abilities and took him in. Oh how he soaked in their outpouring of dark love, but it seemed that even the thrill of sending a soul to the Void was eventually robbed from him. Mother wanted him to keep her safe from harm. She wanted him to protect her; to preserve her. He held the Keeping Tomes and all her dark secrets safe and close to his heart. He'd risked his life for her; he'd slaved away at her unyielding demands.

Mother asked so very much of him, and faithful, diligent Cicero gave so very much. But Mother - - she never returned his gifts. Not so much as a hint of her precious voice lingered in poor Cicero's ears. Only laughter. But his Listener - - she was softer, gentler, and kinder than the cold, indifferent, ever so silent Mother. Oh, he loved Mother very much - - more than anyone or anything. Why, he literally worshipped her very being. But his Listener - - He felt a different type of love for her. It was perhaps a more physical, intimate love. It pained him not to have her as his own. Rejection from the both of them. Stupid, stupid Cicero. Fool of Hearts. He loved them, but they did not return his affections. He loved them both so much that he was beginning to hate it.

The jester propped himself against a tree, pulling out his deadly black blade and running his gloved thumb up its edge. He hummed softly, hearing the laughter surround him. He flashed a wicked grin while he cackled, and began to sing once more.

"Love is quite the tricky thing...The more you fall...The more the pain...Hehe.." He paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. If only he could see just a trickle of blood, maybe he'd feel better. No longer would Cicero feel like a pet, a slave, or a servant. He could sense the jester dancing upon his very brain, his feet caressing Cicero's mind as they pranced across it. Oh, the impulse. Be good Cicero...Be oh so good...Mind your Listener...Obey Mother...

"The more the pain...the more the plight...and the Jester comes calling...with his knife in the night..." He let out his breath, watching the hot steam rise in the darkness. A rustle from deeper in the forest peeked his interest. Now who could this be?

The jester lurked with the darkness at his side to cover himself. He followed the rustling echoes until they had led him to a small camp, in which two bandits sat drinking by a fire.

"Heh, that last poor sap was dumb, wasn't he?" A gritty looking Redguard smiled, showing his nasty, discolored smile.

Cicero felt the rush of madness sweep over him. It appeared that his wonderful Mother had left him a gift, ripe for the taking. Not one, but two souls to thrust into the depths of the Void! Her beloved Keeper could quench his insatiable thirst. He could finally find his release and tame the darkness coursing through his veins. Perhaps that would lift poor Cicero's spirits!

"I know, the stupid bastard didn't even see us comin'!" A filthy, scraggly Nord replied, taking a swig from his tankard and belting out in laughter.

Ah, laughter. A beautiful sound, really. It sounded so much like the jester. Cicero honed in on the back of the Nord's scrawny neck, caressing the hilt of his second blade and licking his lips. He hungered for it. Now was his time.

Cicero launched the dagger in one precise, sharp motion. It landed deeply in the back of the Nord's neck, causing him to immediately fall over, coughing and sputtering blood.

"By the gods!" The Redguard jumped up, scanning about himself and drawing his weapon.

Cicero watched the hopeless bandit dart around, confused and unable to see him. How could he see Cicero? He was in the darkness - - he was the darkness.

When the bandit was positioned just right, the jester pounced, his other blade firmly grasped. He knocked the Redguard flat, with the man's back falling on the blistering fire. The bandit wailed, dropping his weapon due to his writhing reflexes.

"HAHAHA! Sweet Mother, sweet Mother...Bring your child unto me!" The jester crooned merrily, stabbing the man in the chest as he struggled to free himself from the burning torture. The Redguard screamed and fought, clawing at Cicero's skin and clothes. He tore the jester's sleave, and scratched at his face as fire danced around the jester's sinister frame.

"So TOUCHY, aren't we? Hehe!" Cicero mocked, shoving the bandit's back harder into the fiery coals, causing him to scream in agony. He grinned, putting his hand over the man's face and thrusting the back of his head in the burning cinders.

"AAAAHHHHHHHHHH!" Cicero screeched, as the man's teeth clamped tightly onto his gloved hand, ripping through the material and into his flesh. It was so very painful, but it was also so funny! So very, very funny!

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" The jester laughed hysterically, now stabbing the man multiple times with his free hand as he tried pulling the other loose from the bite. He stabbed the man continuously and without ceasing until he lay limp and lifeless over the flame. The smell of charred flesh and salty blood began stinging the jester's senses. It was done. He'd returned the Mother's gift with two of his own - - their souls would be resting with the Dread Father now. It wasn't the love or affection Cicero craved so desperately, but it eased the pain.

Ava had finished interrogating Violet for the moment, and was now making way to her sleeping quarters. Signs of fatigue had entered her body, and she was ready to attempt to slumber once more. She stepped softly along, until she heard the grating of the Black Door opening.

Perhaps Vottur had returned so she could relay the news from Violet. "Vottur?" She asked, stepping toward the stairs that led to the entrance. She stopped beside the old Master Bedroom that used to be Astrid and Arnbjorn's, but was now converted into a study. She could hear the echoes of footsteps bouncing off the dimly-lit walls.

A shadowy figure came into view. It was engulfed in darkness until it stopped at the bottom of the steps. Flickers of candlelight jumped across the jester's bloody face, causing Ava to freeze. He stared at her for what seemed like a lifetime, neither moving or making a sound. Ava's eyes trailed down his shredded motley that had been generously sprayed with blood. Cicero stood holding a ripped glove in his hand. His other hand was uncovered, exposing a deep wound that appeared to be a bite mark. It was still seeping blood. Scratches streaked across his face and the exposed flesh on his arms. He'd never looked as absolutely terrifying as he did at this very moment.

There was a loud, screaming silence in the atmosphere. It felt as if it was creeping out of Cicero and into the room, grabbing Ava and tightening around her throat. Ava began to move her lips. She had to say something to break the eerie hold his silence had on her. "C-Cicero...are you okay?" She asked, her voice cracking from the tension inside of her.

The Keeper said not a word, now stepping slowly toward Ava. She felt as if all of Nirn was caving in on her. What was he going to do to her?

Her wide eyes followed his injured hand as he brought it up toward her face. She felt mortified. What did he do - - kill someone? Surely it wasn't Vottur. Did her actions push him to that point? She didn't mean to break him, but Cicero was mad - - it probably wouldn't take much. Maybe this was it. Maybe she was next.

Ava shivered, feeling his bare hand press against her cheek. It was as cold and clammy as a corpse, save for the warm blood that trickled out, which happened to attach itself to her face. Her eyes darted back to his. They conveyed a sick, dead stare. She could not speak. She could not move. She could not breathe.

"Yes, dear sweet Listener...Your Keeper is just fine...He was empty, but now he is filled to the brim...So much merriment in the dark...So much laughter...My anger has been painted red with laughter..." He said slowly in a low, hushed tone barely above a whisper. She stayed silent, still afraid to move while feeling his bloody hand embrace her cheek. Cicero studied her face a moment, then cocked his head slightly to the side. "Do not fear Listener. Cicero will not harm you. Never, never, never...for the Void is filled with love, and the Void rests within your Keeper. Cicero will behave. Cicero will tolerate until he cannot, and when he cannot, he will simply fill himself once more..."

"I-I don't understand- -" Ava stammered, completely afraid and confused by his riddling answers and deathly appearance. She completely froze, as his bloody hand moved across her mouth, gently covering it. She winced, pursing her lips tightly together as the metallic taste of his blood invaded her mouth.

"Shhhh...There, there Listener...I am not here for you to understand...I am simply here to serve you, oh great and powerful Listener. No matter what pain your Keeper feels, he will live to obey your every wish. Forever and always..." His unnerving voice trailed off, as he slowly released his hand from her trembling lips. He made a faint, high-pitched chuckle as he walked past her into the Sanctuary below.

Ava didn't dare move until she was sure the jester was out of her sight. As soon as her bout of paralysis wore off, she darted out of the dim corridor and down the stairs to the pool in the central room. She could feel Cicero's wet blood across her cheek and mouth, and she desperately wanted nothing more than to remove it. She fell down on her knees, leaning over the deep waters of the pond, and seeing her rippling reflection. A bloody hand print rested on her cheek and smeared across her lips. She witnessed her own fear looking straight into her.

Ava whimpered, splashing and scrubbing her face with liquid until the pool tinged red with his blood. She looked back into the crimson reflection of her own worst enemy, wishing she'd never lied to her Keeper to begin with. What had she done?