Author's Note: Hello everyone, here's chapter 27! As always, a big thanks to all who review/follow/fav/read my fic! Hope you guys enjoy!
Chapter 27: The Weapon
"Listener, the nice Courier man gave Cicero this SPLENDID letter while he was lurking about the graveyard in town today! It looks like GOOD NEWS!" He bounded up to his Listener, who stood curiously eyeing him.
"How can you tell this is good news and not bad?" His Listener asked, with a small smirk on her face.
"Hmmm..." The jester studied, rubbing his chin. "Well, it is neither SINGED with fire or SPLATTERED with blood - - must be good news." He shrugged, grinning foolishly.
Reading the letter, his Listener's eyes grew wide and bright. Her features formed a wide grin. She looked at him, "Cicero - - it's from Nazir! The letter was true after all! They're bringing Temani back with them."
"Ah, the dark family GROWS! Hehehe! Cicero never thought a SINGLE soul survived the destruction of his old home sweet home!" He giggled, excited with the news himself.
"Now if Vottur and Violet return safely, we'll be two for two." She happily rolled up the piece of parchment, heading toward the study.
Cicero quickly followed behind her, soaking in her presence. He had been quite angry with her, but not for very long. He simply couldn't stay angry in knowing what he knew now. What his Listener had admitted completely changed everything. It was much easier to be vile and nasty when he thought his Listener was intentionally stringing him along for her own twisted amusement. Now that he realized it was her own afflictions and not some sadistic form of manipulation that made her inaccessible, it was an easier truth to swallow. He understood her affliction, and respected it. Cicero was no stranger to personal torment himself, and if anything, it somehow made him feel deeper for her. Just knowing in truth that she returned his fondness lightened his spirits. However, he also realized the hurtful truth that he may never be with her in the way he'd yearned for. Cicero chose not to mention the subject of their feelings any further since their little confrontation. It seemed to only complicate things, and they seemed to be happier operating on a simpler level - - their friendship.
"Well, I say we celebrate their new discovery. What do you think, friend?" She grinned, pulling a bottle of wine down from a nearby shelf and plopping herself at a desk.
The use of the word friend stung the jester's insides, as he couldn't will away his romantic feelings toward the girl. Try as he might, Cicero still found himself completely bound by his fondness for her. To Cicero, his Listener was the epitome of a perfect woman - - kind, caring, beautiful, deadly, powerful...His feelings for her were too intense to ever leave him. He'd just have to keep his opinions to himself, he supposed.
"Of course, Listener..." He bowed, grabbing a couple of goblets from a nearby dresser drawer. "Humble Cicero lives to serve..."
"Haha...Alright, enough of that. You're not my slave, Cicero." She softly chuckled, her voice flowing into Cicero's ears like a soft breeze.
Internally, Cicero mentally cringed at his previous state of mind. Why'd he ever think ill of his dear, sweet Listener in the first place? Perhaps jealousy was the culprit. Maybe even his inner fear of abandonment played a role in it. Perhaps poor Cicero had feared that she wasn't the wonderful being he thought her to be, and that all his adoration and life's work had been wasted in vain. He'd been so vile toward his sweet Listener, and yet she forgave him once more. His heart dropped a little each time he remembered spitefully lying to her about that harlot mage. Why did stupid Cicero feel the need to provoke others so often? He did so out of hurt and resentment. He wanted her to feel his burning jealousy and intense pain. Now he deeply regretted it. He'd never really wanted to be with another, unless it was his Listener. He'd never do that to her, but now his Listener was oblivious to that fact.
"Cicero knows, he merely JESTS...He enjoys getting a RISE out of you, dear Listener..." He said, watching her pour their drinks. He fiddled his fingers on the table a bit, debating on whether he should apologize for his terrible behavior. "Listener...about what Cicero said before..."
"What?" His Listener gave a curious look.
"What he said about the...mage..." Cicero nervously cleared his throat, now circling the tip of his finger around the mouth of the goblet.
"No need to apologize. I understand." She said, appearing a bit uncomfortable as she sipped her wine.
"Oh, but Listener...Cicero believes you do NOT understand- -"
His Listener lifted a hand to silence him. "It's no longer a problem, friend. I'm okay." She stated, seeming to accept what he'd told her, be it true or not.
Friend. There was that taunting word again. Cicero sighed, feeling as though he'd have to get used to it whether he liked it or not. Either way, his very existence continued to revolve around his Listener. He loved her enough to accept what they were, and that was merely companions according to his Listener's desires. He quietly gave up, leaving things up to her from now on. There would be no more forcefulness and no more provocation toward her - - even if he didn't like that foul Blood-sucker that she'd apparently took a liking to. Cicero would be obedient, quietly hoping for the day to come when his Listener would change her mind about him - - if that day ever came at all...
Violet stood in a richly fashioned corridor in Castle Dour, adjusting her fine garment as she clung to her thick, leather-bound record book. She and Vottur had been vigorously travelling throughout the night so she could make it to Solitude in time for this very important briefing. She felt the ache of fatigue, but tried her best to inhale and compose herself before entering Tullius' quarters.
"Ah-hem," Violet promptly cleared her throat, while preparing herself and knocking on the door.
"Who is it?" A rough voice asked from the other side.
"It's Violet, sir." She promptly answered as the heavy door swung open. A large, muscular guard held it open, motioning her inside.
As the guard closed and locked the door behind her, she saw her father standing alongside General Tullius. Tullius leaned over a large map of Skyrim, the brow of his stern face furrowed in contemplation. Unlike the large, hardy Ulfric, Tulius was a smaller, leaner man. Despite being of Imperial stature, he was just as intimidating in his own fashion. His tanned skin bore the scars of past battles, and his grey features were hardened by the tides of war.
Maro fixed his eyes on Violet, scowling. "You're late, girl. I expect the next time you go off on those little studies of yours, that you return before my meetings begin."
"Yes, father. I apologize for my tardiness." She spoke, seating herself at a nearby desk and opening the heavy record book. She grabbed a quill out of the nearby inkwell and dated a blank page, thinking of how repulsed she felt to have Maro as her father. He'd never once asked her how her travels had went. He only cared for maintaining his high-ranking reputation. Violet knew she was precisely on time, as she always was, but the two had begun early and it was a ripe occasion for her father to show off his authoritative nature to the General. As usual, Violet humored her father's silent demands, as she was quite used to being his servant rather than his daughter.
Maro directed his attention back to Tullius, who began to speak in a solemn tone. "I'm not sure if what you're proposing will help the Legion in any way, Commander. We're in a weakened state as it is. Titus Mede II was slaughtered right under our noses, and it will take a bit for the new Emperor to settle in and adjust to his role. In my opinion, that makes us just as unstable as before, especially considering how weak and indecisive the man seems to be. We're still an easy target. To boot it all, the Stormcloaks' numbers are increasing at a rapid pace. Ulfric's rallying more support for his rebellion than ever. I agree that slaying the Dark Brotherhood would make Ulfric think twice about what he'd be up against. I also agree that it would bring more supporters to the Legion, for the sheer fact that it proves our cause - - which is to stand for the greater good of Tamriel. Unfortunately, if the Dark Brotherhood has become as powerful as rumor says, we could be our own undoing in pursuing them. I'm not sure the benefits outweigh the risks."
Maro straightened, pacing about with a broad grin now forming on his face. Violet hated that vile grin of his. It painted itself across his features everytime he knew he had the upper-hand in a particular situation. It had the sort of arrogant, self-promoting quality to it that she despised as much as Maro himself. Judging by the looks of him, he had an offer up his sleeve that he knew Tullius wouldn't refuse.
"You have some very valid points, General Tullius, and I do respect them. What good would it do the Legion to go after the Dark Brotherhood, only to be further weakened for Ulfric to conquer? Well, I can assure you I don't care a thing for suicide missions, General. I'd never wish to damage the Legion in that way." Maro rambled on, still pacing with his hands clasped behind his back. Violet knew he loved to keep his peers guessing. She figured it was another way for Maro to feel powerful over another person. To withhold information and string Tullius along was a perfect way to get what he wanted.
An objectionable look covered Tullius' stern features. "Commander Maro, with all due respect, what you are describing is just that - - a suicide mission. We aren't strong enough to take on both the Stormcloaks and the Dark Brotherhood."
Maro paused, stroking his facial hair with a sly look on his face, "Yes in our current state that is very true..."
Tullius straightened, seeminly curious to what Maro was carrying on about. "What do you mean by that, Commander?"
Maro came closer to the General, placing his hands on the table and leaning in with a piercing expression on his features. "What if I told you I had the ability to make us powerful enough to conquer them all? What if I told you I have someone capable of fighting the battles of a hundred men at a time? Would that change your mind, General?" He spoke in a low, hushed tone as serious as death itself. Violet could see the fire burning in his eyes - - the hunger for vengeance and power at any cost.
Tullius raised an eyebrow, "You've caught my attention Commander. I'm listening."
"I could tell you, General Tullius, but it wouldn't bring what I have any justice. If I have your permission, I'd rather show you my weapon of choice." Maro said, as Violet felt a wave of anticipation overcome her. She watched as Tullius nodded silently, seeming intrigued by Maro's claims.
Maro turned to the guard, "Bring in my guest." He ordered.
The room fell silent as Violet waited for what was to be revealed. A moment later, the door creaked open as the guard came in followed by a large, muscular Nord. Maro politely gestured that he be seated by the table.
Tullius scowled, "Who is this?" The General questioned skeptically, as the Nord folded his arms, unamused by his wary disposition.
Commander Maro grinned slyly, "General Tullius, I'd like you to meet the true legend of Skyrim. He is none other than the one they call Haldor the Lawless."
Tullius' mouth gaped slightly open, as he appeared to be caught off-guard by Maro's claims. "I-Is this true? You're Haldor the Lawless? You're the defeater of the World-Eater - - the Dragonborn himself?"
The Nord snorted, while an arrogant smirk formed on his rugged face. "You see me sitting here, don't you?"
"Is this true? You've seen his powers?" Tullius asked Maro, baffled by what he was seeing.
Maro grinned. "Of course, General. He has the voice. I've witnessed it with my own eyes. I saw him blast a carriage over a hundred feet with a mere whisper. I've already given him special privileges within my agency, but he wants more. He wants - - we both want - - him to join your ranks as well. His power to shout in dragon tongue will make us nearly inpenetrable."
"Haldor..." Tullius turned to the Nord. "Why do you wish to join our forces?"
"I'll tell you why..." Haldor folded his arms, his expression turning more bitter by the moment. "I used to be aligned with that bastard Ulfric until I realized he was nothing more than a self-serving prick. He treated me no different than a bottom of the barrel soldier. He's an ungrateful bastard. I'm the Dragonborn. I saved his sorry ass, along with the rest of you, from that overgrown lizard, Alduin. Ulfric didn't care about any of my sacrifices or accomplishments. He thought just because he spent a little time studying with those pacifist Greybeards that he was my ruler. Well, he's not. Not even close. I got tired of his damn mouthy ways - - bossing me around like I was one of his grunt workers. So one day, I decided he was gonna pay for his disrespect. That's why I have this." He growled, reaching into a leather pouch on his side and pulling out a large, sharp-toothed crown.
"By the gods...It's the Jagged Crown! Ulfric has had his eyes set on that for some time. How on Nirn did you get it?" Tullius questioned, astonished by this new evidence.
"I told that bastard I could retrieve it, and he refused to let me go alone. He wanted the glory for himself. The night before he planned on leading the mission to retrieve the blasted thing, I did what I had every right to. I retrieved the crown and never came back. I left that miserable egomaniac to his own devices - - without me. He wanted to let the Dragonborn do all the heavy lifting - - lead the troops, risk his life time and again, fight those filthy Draugr...Then he'd use my abilities to bolster his own pathetic name, saying he lead the great crusade to retrieve that cursed crown. If he thought he had say over me, he was damn wrong. I've faced the eyes of the dragon, I've travelled to Sovangarde and back, and I defeated Miraak himself. Don't tell me I don't deserve the right to glory. I damn well earned it!" He growled, baring his teeth with rage against his former leader.
"You...defeated the first Dragonborn the legends speak of?" Tullius questioned, eyes wide with awe.
"I don't know," Haldor retorted sarcastically as he unsheathed a dark, ominous blade."You tell me." It glowed with a putrid green light, as black sickly tentacles seemed to writhe about it. The blade was unlike anything Violet had ever set her eyes upon. It was as if it were a living, sentient being that came from a world beyond her plane of existence. It was quite fascinating to behold.
"I-is that Miraak's sword? It certainly doesn't look like anything of this realm...I-It is you, Dragonborn..." Tullius spoke, nearly breathless.
"Yes it is." Maro piped in, smiling proudly in seeing how taken aback Tullius seemed by his soldier of destruction. "He can be on your side too, if you will agree to his terms - - which are a small price to pay for the power you will gain."
Tullius seemed to instantly tense up, growing leary at the sound of Maro's comment. "What...terms?"
"I don't want another rehash of Ulfric." Haldor said bluntly. "I want the respect I deserve. I'm not to be bossed around. In other words, I'll fight with you - - as an ally, but on equal terms. You aren't my leader. I'll keep my word - - as a matter of fact, Ulfric was the one who went back on his. I told him the same thing I'm telling you, but he tried to be superior when he had no chance of it. Nobody is my superior. You see this?" He huffed, pointing to the large, angry scar travelling down his right arm. "Alduin gave this to me. He thought he left it as a curse, but I consider it a gift. Until you have one of these, I suggest you listen to me."
"You are powerful, Dragonborn, there's no questioning it. But, this is a lot to process. Maro, I can't help but to feel like you're blind-siding me with all this for your own gain. I don't know how I feel about sharing my authority in this way. I know you really desire to eradicate the Brotherhood because of Gaius - - I'm not naive to this." Tullius remarked, with a frown on his serious features.
"I know you are no fool, General. My cause is more personal in nature, but it is as beneficial to you as it would be if it didn't concern my son. You will wipe out the Stormcloaks either way. You will complete your destiny - - your life's work, which is to make sure the Empire stays on top. Why is this a bad thing?" Maro coaxed, patting Tullius on the shoulder as he tried to appeal to his emotions.
Haldor, not seeming to have the slightest bit of patience, quickly stood up, crossing his arms. "Look, General - - I'm not saying you won't defeat the Stormcloaks by your own merit. If you do - - and that's a pretty big if, considering you're weaker than ever now - - this war may wage on for a long time. We're talking years, possibly past your lifetime. Would you rather draw this damn thing out forever, or just cut to the quick and wipe their self-righteous Stormcloak asses out now?!" He growled, raising his voice in agitation. He placed the Jagged Crown on the table in front of Tullius, pushing it toward him. "The choice is yours. Just remember, I can go elsewhere. I don't have to be your ally, and there's definitely nothing saying I can't be your enemy as well. You give me a shot at Ulfric - - at wiping out these gutless rebels - - and this crown is yours. It'll be your first step to dominance." He said, smirking as if he already knew Tullius had little choice in the matter.
"Well, General Tullius, what say you?" Maro grinned slyly. Violet could see that her father had the General in his grasp. If Tullius wasn't in cahoots with her wretched father in the first place, she'd feel sympathy for him at this moment. Violet could see the look of defeat on Tullius' face. He was merely another pawn in her father's sick game of revenge.
"I must say, Commander, you've certainly outdid yourself this time. It appears you have me at a stalemate." He admitted, grasping the Jagged Crown firmly and pulling it toward himself. "Haldor, I accept. I'd be honored to have the Dragonborn at my side. We need to rid this place of Ulfric, and I'm ready to do just that." He stated, a slight grin travelling across his lips. He held out his hand to Haldor.
The Dragonborn firmly shook Tullius' hand. "Heh...Smart man." He remarked, grinning.
"Violet, take note of this. It's important." Maro barked, as Violet carefully noted the events in her large book. He turned his attention back to Tullius, "Now that we all have that out of the way, let me inform you of Haldor's plans concerning the Dark Brotherhood..."
Vottur stood with his large arms folded and head turned downward, so not to reveal his unusual, Vampiric eyes. He wore a simple black mage robe with a hood to both shield himself from the burning sun and disguise himself as he propped up against the outer wall of Castle Dour, waiting for Violet's return.
He sighed, awaiting the verdict and wondering how bad the news would actually be. If what this girl spoke of was true, then tough times were certainly ahead. It certainly seemed probable, given what the Night Mother had recently told his Listener.
Vottur didn't mind the thought of battling things out with their soon-to-be opponents. If anything, bloodshed was what he now lived for. His yearning for the sight of the precious red liquid far outweighed his concerns. Those concerns, however, were still there lingering in the back of his mind. In the beginning, he could've cared less for his fellow dark siblings. He simply joined the Dark Brotherhood for its purpose of satisfying his rage and bloodlust. Over time, much to his surprise, he did develop a bit of attachment to his dark family - - especially his Listener. He was especially fond of her by this point. The two of them seemed to share a common bond, and over time had become very close. His only fear was losing one of his dark brothers or sisters in battle - - unless, of course, it was that insufferable jester. Vottur never spoke much, and he certainly would keep his feelings to himself, but they were there all the same.
"Vottur..." He heared a hushed, feminine voice. He glanced up to meet eyes with Violet, who was now wearing her plain peasant dress once more. "Hurry, we need to get back to Falkreath. My father is combining his forces with the Legion itself. Have you heard of a man by the name of Haldor the Lawless?" She asked, her elegant voice sounding both anxious and tense.
"I'm a Nord. Of course I have." He answered, thinking of the man of legend whom he'd heard of time and again in taverns all across Skyrim.
"Well, my father recruited him as an ally. He's now our enemy." She stated, now frantically pacing toward the entrance of the city with Vottur falling in behind. This was the Dragonborn himself the girl was speaking of. Even Vottur didn't anticipate that much bloodshed...
"Haldor says he has obtained certain information regarding the Dark Brotherhood, but he didn't mention just what that information was. It seems he has a secret liason of sorts that has relayed information to him concerning your dark orginization. I do know that he plans on dwelling closely to the area for a bit in order to regain communications with this person." Violet informed. Vottur could see the fear in his Listener's eyes as she heard the news. "I know I have no precedence in your Brotherhood, but I would highly suggest that you leave this area. It's much too risky for you to stay here, Ava." She suggested.
"I think the girl's right, Listener." Vottur agreed with Violet's concerns. He had to admit, to not be one of their own, so far she seemed to have a true concern for the welfare of the Dark Brotherhood - - even if it was for a different reason. "We need to get you back to Dawnstar."
Ava quietly nodded. "Yes. That would be the only sane thing to do. I don't know much about this Haldor fellow, but I do know if he's the Dragonborn then he's a huge threat. Violet, do you know anything else?"
"My father will have another briefing next week at the same time. I'll be able to find out more then. I do know that Haldor is working on his own terms - - he's not under the rule of the Legion. I suspect he's trying to find more input on the Brotherhood so the Legion can commence their attack on you." Violet explained.
"Very well. I guess I'd better pack up and leave as soon as possible. I know I'm their main target in the Brotherhood, and if he kills me I'll be of no help to my dark family." Ava admitted, obviously shaken from the new information. Vottur couldn't help but feel sympathy for her. She was a wanted woman after all, and this new threat had her rattled to the core.
"Do you need me to escort you back to Dawnstar?" Vottur volunteered, feeling protective of his Listener while witnessing her in such a vulnerable condition.
"Listener...Cicero could take you back, if you'd oblige..." Cicero piped out from behind her. Vottur could feel himself grow angry with the little vermin. The jester was always running his mouth when it should damn well be shut. After his little stunt with that crazed mage, he was lucky their Listener even gave him the time of day. Vottur wanted to reach over and strangle the jester right then and there for his antics, but he restrained himself, knowing his Listener would not approve.
"Now's not the time for that, jester." Vottur said, attempting to be as civil as his temper would allow him.
He watched as Cicero narrowed his eyes at him, "It's LISTENER'S decision."
Ava bit her bottom lip,while wringing her hands and milling things over. She had a look of indecision on her face, until she spoke softly. "Vottur, I think it would be best if you stay here with Violet. I trust you to look over the place while I'm gone. Perhaps you can spread word of the possible traitor among our Brotherhood as well - - you know, have everyone on alert. Tell our assassins to report to you if they see any suspicious activity." She explained, glancing at the jester. "Besides, Cicero's been here too long as it is. I didn't expect he'd be travelling as much as he has, but it had to be done if we were to have Violet's help. He needs to get back to his duties with the Night Mother."
"Very well, Listener. I respect your decision." Vottur replied, hoping that the fool wouldn't get her killed along the way. He turned to glare at Cicero, "You better take care of our Listener. If so much as a hair on her head gets harmed, you'll have me to answer to."
"Cicero would never allow Listener to be harmed. Now if it were YOU, Blood-sucker, it would be QUITE a different story..." The jester returned a hateful scowl as the Listener left the room to pack with Cicero turning to follow after her.
"I guess you and I are stuck together for now, Vottur." Violet grinned. "I know I'm no assassin, but I can make for good company."
"We'll see about that." Vottur remarked, still too wary to trust her completely. So far Violet seemed to be truthful and have a good head on her shoulders. She was a decent travelling companion, as well. However, he had to have his guard up for the Brotherhood's sake. "Come with me. I need to take you to your room."
Violet followed behind him, speaking in a more cheerful tone. "It's certainly lovely to think I'll have a room instead of- " She completely stopped speaking, in seeing that he'd led her to the prison once more.
It wouldn't be comfortable, but Vottur felt it would be necessary for her to stay locked up at night just in case she was some sort of conspirator herself. "Come along." He said, motioning for her to sit in the chair so he could cuff her once more.
He watched the young woman sigh, "Very well, then. I guess it was rather naive of me to think we'd move along that fast, eh?" She smirked, sitting calmly on the chair as he locked her restraints.
"Just yell for me if you need anything. I'll be up all night." He said, beginning to exit the prison chamber.
"Vottur..." He turned his head, hearing her voice echo his name.
"Yes?" He asked, brow furrowed.
She smiled slyly, "Just checking. Next time I'll wait until I need something." Violet teased.
He silently turned away, leaving her while he shook his head, grinning. Perhaps she would be good company, after all...
Cicero helped his Listener up into the carriage at the edge of Falkreath as he bounced in happily behind her. He could feel the wagon begin to move over the craggy path, rocking them to and fro as they began their journey to Dawnstar.
The jester hummed merrily to himself, eyeing the dark shadows of the landscape as they moved along in the dark of night. He fixed his gaze upon his Listener, who sat silently with her usual mage robe pulled over her head to hide herself. She was awfully quiet tonight - - even more so than usual.
"Is my Listener distressed? She seems AWFULLY quiet..." He pondered aloud, trying to provoke a response from her.
She jumped a bit, as if she'd been awakened from her thoughts. "Hm? Oh, well...Yeah, I am. I'm nervous about all this Dragonborn talk. I'm guess I'm a bit afraid..." She admitted, making Cicero feel quite good. He didn't feel good that she was afraid, per say - - just that she was saying how she felt instead of trying to hide it from him. It felt lovely for Cicero to indulge in her true emotions.
"Cicero won't let him hurt you, Listener. He would surely cut the Lizard-slayer's TONGUE out first! Then he wouldn't be able to so much as WHISPER one of those wretched spells at you!" He mused, hoping to comfort her in some way.
"Heh...Thanks, Cicero. I wouldn't put you in that position, though. Hopefully none of us will have to face him alone. I guess I'll have to wait and see what Maro is planning. I guess that's what makes me so fearful - - not knowing." She explained, rubbing her arm anxiously.
"Oh, Listener...It is of no matter. If we die HORRIBLY in service to our Dread Father, then we shall die TOGETHER! Your Keeper will be by your side until the HIDEOUS, PAINFUL, TORMENTING end!" He laughed, watching her smirk at his comment.
"Thanks, I guess." She laughed softly. "I hope it's not that horrid."
Cicero grinned widely, shrugging. He loved to say things to see her reactions. She was so pretty when she looked disturbed. Cicero felt so very glad to be with her. His features softened, "Listener...Cicero wants to thank you for letting him join you."
"I knew you wanted to go. Besides, I wasn't lying about you being away too long. You needed to come back to Dawnstar." She replied.
"Cicero DOES need to tend to Mother. OOoooohhh, he bets all her tiny CREVICES are dry and in DIRE need of oiling! Got to get all those hard to reach PLACES..." He stated slyly, watching her wince at his strangely lewd comment. "Cicero is very happy to have Mother AND Listener again. He misses Mother when he is with Listener, and misses Listener when he is with Mother..." He smiled devilishly at her, his voice dropping low while he spoke. "Shouldn't make him choose between two different women, you know."
He watched his Listener shake her head at his foolish behavior. "One thing is for sure, you can certainly lighten the mood." She turned to him, her sparkling blue eyes full of gratitude and warmth in the pale moonlight. "What would I do without you here to make me feel better?"
He felt his heart pound with the sound of her words. Cicero felt cornered with no way out again. Here his precious Listener was right in front of him, and Cicero wanted nothing more than to lavish her with the affections he'd felt for her for so long. Ah, but he couldn't step out of line. Cicero wouldn't go against her wishes. He needed to let her be, no matter how bothersome it was to him. "Hehe..." Cicero chuckled nervously, feeling sweat bead on his forehead from the impulse to pull her into him and do some things he'd wanted very badly to do. "You'll never have to be without your Keeper, dear Listener..." He strained out his words.
...
"If I spy a sleeping bird...I'll snap it's neck..." Cicero sat singing to himself in the dead of night, attempting to amuse himself. His Listener sat with her head propped against the side of the carriage, sitting up sound asleep. Without her company, things were rather dull and Cicero was much too full of energy to sleep.
He watched her sleep peacefully as the moonlight hit her features, illuminating them in a pale glow. His eyes automatically traced her neckline down to watch her chest move up and down and she breathed peacefully. Then his wandering eyes moved a little lower. Cicero shook his head, mentally scolding himself. No, no! None of that - - even if her feminine parts were quite lovely to look at. It wasn't right. Listener wouldn't approve of her Keeper staring a hole through her while she slept.
Cicero grunted irritably, watching a fox bound down the road for a distraction.
"Oohhhh..." A soft moaning noise came from his Listener as she slumbered, catching and holding his attention. She shifted around a bit in her sleep, letting out another one. "MMMmmm..." It sounded even more delicious than the last. Cicero couldn't help but wonder what his Listener was dreaming about. Whatever it was, it must have been nice to cause her to make such pleasantly enticing noises. Perhaps Cicero was in her dreams. The very thought caused the jester's lips to curl into a wicked grin. She suddenly turned over, still sound asleep, but now facing him. He watched her, eyes wide and waiting for the next wonderful noise to come out.
Suddenly, a wagon wheel dipped into a deep crevice in the road, causing the wagon to bounce about furiously. His Listener, thrown forward by the fierce motion, landed face-down in the jester's lap.
"GAAAAAAHHHH!" Cicero jerked back and flailed as if someone had thrown a kettle of boiling water on his groin, causing his Listener to raise up, half asleep.
"W-what's...going...on...?" She asked, eyes half open as she looked into his own, seeming halfway between dream and reality.
Cicero straightened himself, acting as casual as possible. "I'll snap its neck before it's heard..." He sang to himself nervously, pretending to be oblivious to the fact that her face had been thrown into his crotch a mere two seconds ago.
"Hello...Cic...ero..." She mumbled, now drifting back to slumber as she shifted, laying her head on his shoulder.
"Whew..." He blew, relieved she'd been unaware of what just happened.
"OOOoooohhhh..." She moaned again, snuggling up on his shoulder.
Cicero's face twisted worriedly. This would be a very, very long trip home.