Author's Note: Hey everyone! As always, many thanks to all my readers out there and those who have fav/followed/reviewed. You guys are awesome, as always! Here's chapter 38, hope you enjoy!

Chapter 38: Crash and Burn

Cicero ran a gloved finger over his ebony blade, humming merrily to himself as he stood watch at the forest's edge. He could hear the distant screams of battle ringing like jubilant music to his ears. He could only imagine how much blood had been shed. Such a lovely sea of crimson to be seen! Despite his excitement, he waited patiently, hoping that perhaps an unfortunate straggler would cross paths with him at any moment. He chuckled to himself, thinking of how easy it would be to pounce and kill his prey. Even more amusing was the thought of keeping the potential victim alive long enough to have a bit of fun with them. Perhaps a friendly game of cat-and-mouse would pass the time?

His eyes followed the noise in the distance, narrowing and straining to catch a glimpse of a possible future victim. He growled and grumbled to himself, disappointed when he didn't see a thing.

Sighing, the jester slinked to the ground, bored with it all. It seemed completely unfair that the other's were having such fun slitting throats and lopping off appendages, while poor Cicero had guard duty. Initially, the jester was elated to have such an important task, other than tending to Mother. However, when death was playing a lovely tune just out of his reach, his opinion seemed to quickly change on the matter.

At least he had the thoughts of his sweet Listener to fill his mind as he waited. Cicero found himself missing her more by the minute. He missed the sweet smell of her hair, the warm touch of her skin, and the soft caress of her voice on his ears. He felt not only content in her presence, but for once calm and at peace from the chatter of his thoughts and the subtle hiss of noise that always seemed to trickle through his subconscious. His Listener was the one person who made him feel welcomed and loved in a life where love had become as silent and nonexistent as the voice of his Unholy Matron. She was his small, undying flame in the black of night. She was the cure to everything that ailed him, it seemed. His Listener was his missing piece, his other half, and his everything. Where the laughter and madness had most certainly spared Cicero from his traumatic past, it had also taken away much of his humanity, leaving him as not a man, but as Laughter Incarnate. For once, Cicero felt himself becoming truly whole again, as if his humanity had somehow slowly been awakened by her over time. Not that the Laughter went away. He wouldn't dare wish away his dark, beloved jester. It was simply the fact that, unlike any other woman that the jester had stumbled across since he'd been reborn in the Laughter, his Listener didn't wince in disgust or flee when face-to-face with him. No, his beloved embraced his madness.

Cicero loved her, simply put. He couldn't wait to bask in her presence again. He couldn't wait to spend day after day together, to laugh together, to make love together, and for the two of them to sing the sweet song of death while sending souls to the Dread Father. Cicero felt very lucky indeed. Perhaps Mother had gifted him with happiness for all his diligence, suffering, and devotion. Perhaps she was a gift from Mother - - the greatest gift of all.

Cicero gently sighed, smiling as he thought of her while fiddling with a pointy stick. At least she would be safe from harm. Despite missing her, he'd rather feel the inconvenience of her being away than the intense worry of harm befalling her. The very thought of it sent a cold shudder up his spine. The jester shook his head, releasing the unpleasant thought as he tossed the stick to the side, returning to boredom.

Suddenly, the sound of running footsteps peaked Cicero's interest, causing him to jump to his feet and draw his blade in one swift motion. It seemed as if the foolish creature was running directly into Cicero's path. The jester smiled wickedly, thinking of how funny it would be if the unfortunate soul happened to stumble right onto his dagger.

A blur of red caught the jester's eye, causing him to pounce on the fleeing form, tackling them to the ground.

"AGH! Get off me you fool! I'm on your side!" Nazir coughed, attempting to catch his breath after Cicero had knocked it out of him.

"Not fair." Cicero pouted, as a frustrated Nazir threw the jester off of him.

"What in the Void is that supposed to mean?!" Nazir stumbled to his feet, dusting off his attire.

"Can't kill YOU..." Cicero sulked, regaining his footing as he sheathed his blade.

"Damn right you can't!" Nazir scowled, causing Cicero to react with a foolish smirk. He loved to see the Redguard's face twist up like that. "Look, I have to inform the others that the Legion has surrendered for the time being. Then I have to make a break for Dawnstar. Seeing as though I don't care for chit chat, I'm going to Falkreath now. I'd suggest you get out of my way." he demanded, his voice thick with irritation.

Cicero scowled in return. "Why does the grumpy Redguard get to travel to Dawnstar? Cicero needs to go, too."

"Ugh, not this again. Look, you're supposed to stay put. So stay put." Nazir demanded. "They need you here. Best do as you're told, jester."

Cicero placed his hands on his hips defiantly. "FINE, but Cicero is going to Falkreath with you, Redguard. He wants to hear all the BLOODY details!"

Nazir sighed, placing his hand on his forehead. "Fine, you fool. Just come on! I don't have time to debate with a clown."

The jester followed the Redguard to the Sanctuary, noting a frightened Temani standing watch at the Black Door.

"Oh, thank Sithis! I saw two red figures running this way, and I thought for sure we'd be under attack! I'm certainly relieved to find you gentlemen, instead." the Altmer sighed, his voice trembling from being spooked.

Cicero watched the Redguard give Temani a sharp look. "Don't tell me you were afraid. How in the Void did you become an assassin in the first place?"

"Um...er...I..." Temani stuttered, seeming to be put on the spot. Cicero raised an eyebrow curiously.

Nazir sighed, "Never mind. Frankly, I could care less. Just get out of the way so I can relay the good news." Cicero noticed the elf sigh with relief, not having to answer his question. The elf was certainly a funny one.

"G-good news?" Temani questioned timidly.

Cicero grinned widely. "Ah YES! We come bringing merry tales of the Legion's defeat tonight!" he chirped, as Nazir knocked on the Black Door the required five times, so as not to be incinerated upon entering.

After the routine answering of the pass phrase, the door rumbled open. Babette stood waiting on the other side, arms folded and eyebrow raised, ready for answers. "So?"

"HOO HOO! Ah, the Un-child is an EAGER one! Better be careful, the STRUMPET may get away once your head is turned!" Cicero chimed, feeling the urge to tease the Un-child for no good reason other than his own amusement.

"Shut it, Cicero." she scowled, giving Cicero the reaction he wanted. He laughed hysterically, well aware that he was annoying both the Un-child and the Redguard.

"Those Legionnaires left running with their tails between their legs!" Nazir grinned proudly, as Cicero began to cackle once more.

"Hehe! Such a funny thought! Who knew the Redguard would be capable of saying something amusing?!" he snorted, causing both Babette and Nazir to scold him until he behaved himself.

"So what now?" Babette inquired, glaring at Cicero ahead of time to warn him not to open his mouth. He merely grinned in reaction, feeling content with himself.

"Vottur has some business to attend to in Dawnstar. He hasn't told me the details, but he said he needs me there. I guess I'll find out more when I meet him. As far as the Legion goes, Ulfric insists that we meet him on his turf as soon as possible. He's planning a siege in Solitude at their main headquarters. Meanwhile, Ulfric wants us to command our assassins to infiltrate the Legion-oriented cities, slitting the throats of their guards in the night. We'll do this to weaken them and send our message loud and clear. I need you to give the orders here, Babette. Meanwhile, Vottur and I will take care of business in Dawnstar. " Nazir explained.

Babette grinned slyly at Nazir. "You know, you're rather believable when you're giving orders. One would almost think you knew what you were talking about." she teased.

"Very funny, you old She-Devil." Nazir smirked. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to gather my supplies and head for Dawnstar." Nazir yawned, shaking his head and stretching his arms. "By Sithis, I'm tired, but I have to go. I guess I can just sleep when I'm dead."

Cicero snorted, hearing the Redguards last words and finding them quite hilarous. The two Speakers shot him a mean look in return. "WHAT?! Cicero didn't say a WORD!" He shrugged, innocently.

...

Cicero watched from the shadows of the study, seeing Nazir's form dart quickly past the doorway and out the entrance of the Falkreath Sanctuary. The jester smiled, waiting patiently for just enough time to pass that he could gently slip out, unnoticed by the others.

Once the time was right, he crept up the stairs and out into the night. The grumpy Redguard and that big, dumb Blood-sucker weren't keeping Cicero apart from his Listener. He'd rather die than be away from her.

A faint slit of daylight hung low in the horizon, as Vottur jumped down from Shadowmere, spotting two lifeless bodies now half-covered in snow. He bounded over, feeling his heart race and his stomach churn.

He stopped at the lifeless forms, collapsing on his knees when he caught sight of Ava. Hot tears began to trail down his cheeks as he gently brushed the fresh layer of snow from her face. Vottur could tell she'd fought hard, as her face was bloodied, charred, and bruised. His heart wrenched when seeing the blood that painted the front of her shrouded armor.

Her glassy blue eyes stared into the sky, prompting Vottur to respectfully close them for her. Ava laid lifeless, bloodied, and battered in the wilderness, just like his dear Mina once had. Like a great stone wall, the world seemed to cave in on him. He felt the tremendous weight of grief from losing her. He began to sob uncontrollably, embracing his dark sister and pulling her form close to him. It was as if he was reliving that night with Mina all over again. He felt much the same way as before: desperate, alone, and helpless to do anything for her.

"TAKE THE BLADE, MY LISTENER..." Vottur heard the hiss of the new voice in his mind. His thoughts interrupted, he gently laid Ava down in the snow, while wiping his face on his sleeve to dry the freezing tears. He then turned his attention to the body beside her. It was most certainly the Dragonborn that Ava had once spoke to him about.

Vottur could see Ava's true abilities from the man's injuries. She'd gouged out both his eyes, leaving them nothing but bloody indentations. Blood stained his armor from an abdominal injury, and lastly, the Blade of Woe lay buried deep in his throat.

Vottur growled, pulling the blade from the Dragonborn's throat, and feeling its warm, powerful hilt in his hand. A slight burst of energy seemed to travel through his body as he held it.

"GO TO THE SANCTUARY. FIND A SYMBOL OF THE BLACK HAND, AND PLACE IT ON THE DRAGONBORN FOR ALL TO WITNESS. PLACE HIS BODY IN THE CITY OF DAWNSTAR..." the voice commanded. Vottur had no qualms about doing that very thing. This was the bastard that killed Ava. He deserved it.

"Vottur, brother!" Vottur heard the Redguard call out, now running to meet Nazir and speak to him before his eyes caught sight of the disturbing scene that lay ahead.

"Nazir! WAIT!" he yelled, frantically waving his arms to catch the Redguard's attention. "STOP THERE! DON'T COME ANY CLOSER!"

"What?!" Nazir's face contorted in a look of confusion as he swiftly ran, stopping close enough to catch a glimpse of the two dead bodies. Vottur sighed, closing his eyes. It was too late. He couldn't prepare the Redguard now.

He stood helpless, watching as the Redguard's eyes, which were once fixated on him, darted past his form, catching a glimpse of what lay beyond Vottur. Nazir's brow furrowed deep, "Who's that? What is this, Vottur? Did someone plan to infiltrate Dawnstar? Who did you kill?" Nazir threw questions left and right, stepping past Vottur before he even had a chance to answer.

He followed behind Nazir, head held low, waiting for the inevitable. He watched as the Redguard came to a screeching halt, gaping with a loss of words as he realized who lay before him. Nazir turned to Vottur, his eyes wide with shock. "...It's...Ava..."

Vottur nodded, holding a large hand to his forehead. Running his fingers through his black mane, he sighed. "Yes...Yes, it is."

"Why? What happened? What is all this?" Nazir launched more questions his way. The Redguard's voice was trembling, signifying how shaken he'd become.

"...Ava said she was destined to kill the Dragonborn, but to murder him was a suicide mission." Vottur answered reluctantly. "He was far too powerful for her to survive him."

Nazir sighed, shaking his head. "This...is all my fault. I allowed Lielle into our dark family. She was the one who cozied up to that Dragonborn son of a bitch! He knew where Ava would be because of her..."

"No, brother. It wasn't you at all, despite what you think." Vottur reassured Nazir, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Ava confided in me before these events took place. She told me that it was all part of the Prophecy. She told me she was the one to set things in motion. Thus, the rebirth, the final stage of the Prophecy, would come to be...I'm sorry, I couldn't tell you, brother. I was told by Ava herself to keep this between the two of us until it was time for everything to be revealed."

Nazir gave him a confused look. "How will all of this help us? I get the Dragonborn part, and believe me, I'm glad the bastard is dead. But, we've lost Ava now." Nazir sighed again, subtle traces of his pain spilling out through his mannerisms. "No disrespect to the Night Mother, but how do we possibly thrive without a Listener?"

"Well..." Vottur braced himself, hoping the Redguard would believe him. "You see, that is why Ava confided in me before she left this realm. She told me that I was the one to carry on her legacy. Nazir, I am the next Listener..."

"...You?" Nazir's face went slack, as if shocked once more by the flood of information he'd been given. "Have...you heard her voice?" he inquired, curiously.

Vottur nodded. "The moment the Legion surrendered and the ground began to quake, was the moment our Matron spoke to me. She was the one who told me to come here."

"By Sithis..." Nazir stroked his facial hair, taking it all in. "So that's why you bolted off. I have to say, I'd never have guessed in a thousand lifetimes that Ava would be off killing the Dragonborn while we were in battle. I didn't think she had it in her." The Redguard turned to look at Ava's lifeless body once more, sighing. "We'll give her a proper funeral by the Sanctuary, like she deserves." He then smirked, as if he'd suddenly realized something. "No wonder she was acting like a loon the last time I saw her. That girl was something, alright."

Vottur watched the Redguard reminisce about Ava, while feeling relieved to see how easily Nazir believed him. It felt good to have his brother's trust at a time like this. "We need to take her to the Sanctuary, Nazir." Vottur sighed, his heart still as sullen as ever.

"What about him?" Nazir sneered at Haldor's corpse.

Vottur grinned deviously. "The Dragonborn has a special burial awaiting him. I'll tell you all about it." he assured Nazir, as he lifted Ava's small body from the snow, his heart feeling heavy with her in his grasp.

Cicero hopped down from the carriage and onto the swampy ground of Morthal. The jester felt more than tired, and his muscles ached with fatigue from his previous bout of running. Nazir had taken the usual carriage from Falkreath, leaving Cicero with nothing but his two aching feet to carry him. He'd trekked for miles until he was able to flag another carriage down and bribe the driver to transport him to the marshy town. Perhaps he could've persuaded the man to go to Dawnstar and saved himself the trouble, but Cicero thought better than to risk it. Besides, he needed to follow standard protocol when it came to travelling, even if the Legion was but bloody remains. Better safe than sorry. Or dead.

However, no distance was too far for Cicero to travel when it came to his beloved. How he anticipated seeing her beautiful face once more! Perhaps they could celebrate the Brotherhood's current victory together with a night of debauchery and trouble-making! At the very least, perhaps he could convince her to dance with him again. It had been so very long since poor Cicero could convince her to dance.

Cicero hummed merrily to himself, happy to take matters into his own hands. He wouldn't listen to that hateful Redguard or the stupid, undead Nord. The Listener was his and his alone, and Cicero could see her whenever he pleased. Oh, and Mother desperately needed tending. How he missed his dear, poor Mother, all alone in her cold coffin without Cicero to fulfill his duties.

The jester, for that matter, was happier than he'd been in ages. His Mother had rained prosperity down on his beloved dark brothers and sisters, had given his life humanity and meaning once more, and most of all, had brought him together with his Listener - - his divine being with the raven hair and sapphire eyes.

Cicero gazed into the sunny sky, chuckling and walking with an extra bounce in his step. His eyes traced the beautiful land about him, as he followed the path that would ultimately lead him to her once more. The jester then spotted a batch of beautiful red mountain flowers. Ah, red for blood, red for love. He picked them, smelling their soft, delicate scent. They were so much like her. He grinned widely, carrying the fresh bouquet. It would be a befitting gift for his love. Cicero's poor feet may have ached, but it was a small price to see his beautiful Listener again. He simply couldn't wait to lay eyes on her once more.

Vottur and Nazir steadied the long, wooden plank, now thrusting it into the icy ground in the center of the city of Dawnstar. From it dangled the lifeless body of Haldor the Lawless, eyeless and bloodied, and most importantly, dead. With the dusk approaching, it was a rather horrendous sight. It was perfect, really.

"How's that for a funeral?" Nazir remarked, eyeing the body with a smirk of satisfaction. Vottur watched as the townspeople gathered in, gasping and murmuring amongst themselves.

"One more thing..." Vottur reached into his satchel, pulling out a steel dagger and a piece of parchment with the symbol of the Black Hand inscribed on it. He grinned darkly, holding the parchment to Haldor's chest and stabbing it with the dagger. The blade lodged in his armor, pinning the symbol to him, and showing all that surrounded them who was responsible for bringing him down.

"You..." A Pale guard caught sight of Vottur. Seeing as Dawnstar was Stormcloak affiliated, the Vampire had no worries about being seen. "I think I know you...You've both fought alongside our brothers in arms."

"You're damn right, we did," Nazir said proudly, hand on hip.

"Is this...the legendary Dragonborn? Are you..." The guard stopped, in awe of what he was seeing.

Vottur nodded, "Yes he is. And yes, we are...I suppose you know our affiliation with your leader, Ulfric Stormcloak?"

"Aye, I do. We all know. We commend you for your contributions to our efforts." the guard nodded eagerly.

"Well it is by our Brotherhood's divine guidance that we were to plant Haldor's dead body in plain sight, with our emblem attached to his corpse. Do with it what you will, for my task ends here. All I ask is that you don't remove our insignia." Vottur informed the guard, who promptly agreed, signaling more of his fellow men to surround them.

"I will not harm your symbol, sir. However, I believe it would be in our best interest to return his body to Ulfric's headquarters." The guard began to smirk, "Of course, not without parading it about for a bit. We'll send our message loud and clear to the Legion. We'll march with his body held as high as our flag."

"I like the way you think." Nazir smirked, as an unknown figure came sprinting into their view, diverting their attention.

The man was a young assassin, his eyes wide and full of fear. "I need you both to come back quickly! It's the jester! He showed up at the Sanctuary unannounced, took one look at us preparing Ava's body, and...and..." The young man's voice began to tremble. "It's bad...Please, you have to come with me!"

Vottur could feel his stomach churn. If Cicero was involved, there was no telling what would happen. He was a raving lunatic, and he'd just found his lover's dead body. The madman was dangerous enough as it was, and there was no telling what he'd do at this point.

"By Sithis, I told him to stay put!" Nazir growled, as the the three of them bounded off to the Sanctuary.