A/N: Alrighty my lovelies, it's a long one, this chapter. And maybe a bit fluffy, dunno. It feels almost too fluffy to me, but hey, you're the readers and you get to decide how and what. I think it's a bit of a filler chapter, too:3 Whoa… epic confessions here tonight…. Oh well. I'd like to give a big Thank You to everyone who has reviewed so far; I really appreciate it! Kill well, and often:) (Though, maybe only in SkyrimO.o)

Chapter 5: Whispers in the Dark, Barely

I awoke to a fairly calm and good morning, although I wasn't sure why I was so very happy. I felt light, as though I might fly away any second. I wasn't sure if I liked the feeling, or if I even really knew what it was. I waited for Cicero to start talking, to say something to greet me. But there was nothing but silence that greeted me. I opened my eyes as I rolled over to lie on my back, folding my hands over my stomach. A strange pain throbbed in my heart, and I unconsciously rubbed it, frowning. What was it, that I felt that? I hoped I wasn't getting sick or something. I would have to ask Babette about it. The throbbing eased a little as my thoughts turned to more practical things, and I sauntered through the many rooms and corridors to the dining hall for breakfast. Veezara was there, and Festus very briefly before muttering something about a revelation and disappearing to where he practiced his magic. I took a bowl of some sort of stew or soup, and sat down across from the Argonian.

Conversation was light, and I detailed again my contract with Alain, and the travelling. Veezara listened intently when I mentioned the Dwemer ruins, and he asked me hundreds of questions about them. Most had me simply gaping at him. I had no idea what he was talking about, and eventually he settled on asking me to mark it on his map later. Apparently he quite enjoyed exploring them, when he had the chance. We cleaned our bowls and I headed over to where I knew Babette would be busy with her potions.

"Good Morning, Alysa!" Cicero called, skipping towards me and stopping just in front of me, leaning close until out noses almost touched. It was a little disconcerting, really. "Uhm… good morning, Cicero," I replied, using a lot of my will not to pull back, to take that one step backwards to see him properly. Suddenly Cicero straightened, cackling, then spun around in a circle, hands behind his back. "Good good good! The Fool of Hearts must make his start!" he danced and skipped away, and I couldn't help but feel a little bewildered and hurt that he had just disappeared. Again. I sighed, the faintest of smiles on my face anyway. I heard Babette chuckle softly, a wry half-smile on her child's face as she turned back to her alchemical apparatus. "What?" I asked, coming closer to watch her.
"Oh, it's an interesting pair, but I think it will be good for both of you," she said, reaching to another table for some strange root I had never seen before.
I frowned. "What, or who, is an interesting pair?"
Babette froze, the knife she had just picked up hovering over the root. She looked incredulously at me. "Are you serious, Alysa?" she paused briefly, then turned back to cutting the root. "Hm, I suppose you are. Whenever he is near, you feel as if the world is kinder, safer. You can do anything and nothing can stop you, but as soon as he's gone, you feel lost, alone, and there's that ache right here," Babette stopped to touch where my heart was. The same place I had felt that dull throb this morning. Then she turned away, looking sad for a moment. "You only get an opportunity like this once in your life, Alysa. Use it, take it and never let it go."
I was confused, a little angry about what the vampire child had told me, though I knew I had no reason to be. Had I really missed something so important about myself? I stalked away, and I thought I heard her mutter something like, "This is when I envy any mortal."

Was what she was saying true, assuming I had understood what she meant?

Ah, it is a fair day today! Cicero hasn't been outside yet, no no no! But I know it is a fair day! I saw Alysa! He knows that he will have a good day, Mother! Oh, Cicero is happy…. He will come to oil you soon, Mother! It is almost time again for Mother to be cleaned, to glean with a wondrous sheen! "Cicero," a quiet voice – a cold voice – calls him. Oh, Dread Father! Is this what you felt for our Mother?
"Yes, sweet Sister Alysa?" Cicero turns on his heels, his hands clasped behind – not in front! – of his back (Cicero wonders what it would feel like to clasp his hands in front of his back – he supposes it would be uncomfortable, since he can only clasp them in front of his body, which isn't in front of his back – though, it could be… but that's all very confusing to Cicero; he should stop thinking about that now). She looks confused, and hurt for some reason! Cicero will find whoever did that and turn them inside-out and make them do cartwheels! Wrap them in their intestines! Skip with them! Alysa frowns at Cicero: she sees him scowl. "Cicero was thinking of doing horrid things to mean people," he explains. "What can humble Cicero help you with?"
Alysa pursed her lips. Such pretty lips…. "Would you train with me? If you can, that is –"
"If Cicero can?! Cicero was an assassin just like you, too! Before he was Keeper! Then the Keeper must keep and not take like the Taker! Yes! Alysa is a Taker! Ah-ha ha ha ha!" Cicero laughs. Oh, that was clever of the Fool of Hearts! Alysa blinked, raising a brow at Cicero. He just smiles at her. "Very well, sweet Sister. Cicero will train with you. What would you like to start with? I am best with the knife, and the sword, but Cicero also knows a little about martial arts and the bow. But not very much with the bow, not at all. Not an elf, you see, it was not to BE!"
Alysa is close to laughing, Cicero sees, but she is interested too. She wants to know what Cicero knows. A little unbelieving, too, he thinks. "Come, Alysa! We shall train to avoid being slain!"
"Fair enough," she agrees, walking next to happy Cicero to the training area. There we will take wooden swords, if she wants swords, or we will dance hand-to-hand, if she wants. Cicero isn't sure how much she knows, but he is sure there is much she can still learn. And he will teach her! Yes! And –
"Veezara!" she called, greeting the Argonian.

Cicero frowned inside, but smiled outside. This was Cicero's time with Alysa… but maybe now he could see Alysa fight, and know what to teach her. Cicero knows he is good, fighting has saved him and Mother many times before, just never his Sanctuary. Cicero isn't listening to what they are saying, but he sees Veezara look at him. Blankly, like all Argonians do. Cicero wonders if they can show emotion, but Cicero will never know – or maybe he just hasn't spent enough time with them to see what emotions they have. Cicero grins brightly for them, wishing he could have his sweet sister to himself.

"Veezara!" I called, greeting the Argonian. He was probably the only one of all the people of all the Beast races I could stand, really. The Shadowscale raised a hand in greeting, his tail-tip twitching all the time. He was already in the training area, and we often trained together. "Alysa! How are you today?"
"I'm alright, especially after having completed my first real contract!"
"I've heard that many times today," he laughed. "Are you here to train?" Veezara asked, his eyes moving carefully between me and Cicero.
I nodded. "Cicero and I are going to train."
Veezara looked at Cicero, his face blank to someone who doesn't spend time with him, but I could see he was a little incredulous, just as I am about what exactly Cicero knows about fighting. "I see…" he eventually said, nodding slowly in a way only an Argonian could. I was glad Cicero was a little behind me, because I was wearing an expression that might have insulted him – I didn't really believe he knew all that much. Oh well, that's just the humor of it, not so? "Perhaps Cicero will watch first, it has been a long time since he has fought, so Cicero would like to refresh his memory."
Veezara and I turned to look at Cicero, his face serious for once. But I could have sworn I saw a light glow in his eyes. I wasn't sure what it meant, but surely nothing good. Nothing innocent, at least – you'd have thought that a jester would be innocent, regardless of his occupation, but not this one….

I nodded, and turned back to the Shadowscale. "Hand-to-hand?" he checked.
I nodded, bending by knees a little as we circled each other, the Argonian's tail swinging lazily from side to side. My fists were raised, at the ready, so was his. The world narrowed until it was just me, my opponent and our immediate environment.

Everything happened quickly then: right fist, duck, left foot, rise, move, kick, block, attack and dodge. I felt myself move through all the positions easily, keeping up with Veezara, dodging his claws easier than I had the last time we trained. Then his tail whiplashed me from behind. I was going down, rolling to face him but he was already on me. We struggled for the upper-hand, and I was suddenly aware of Cicero moving then making himself stand still. Those precious seconds cost me a narrow victory.

Veezara flipped me over onto my stomach, bending my left arm behind my back. I struggled briefly, but stopped when my shoulder started screaming in pain and Veezara's claws pricked my skin. "You're getting better, Alysa," the Shadowscale said, releasing me and standing. I rubbed my arm, then shrugged my shoulder a few times before I stood up. I was a sour loser, especially in front of an audience. "You're still too distracted by other things. In a fast fight you do well, but something that lasts will kill you," the Argonian continued. I bit my tongue to stop from giving out snide remarks. I knew that, now it was just a matter of fixing that. I nodded curtly. "Cicero has an idea!"

I glared at the jester. He seemed unfazed my glare, and Veezara seemed mildly interested. "Cicero will take you to Falkreath, and there Cicero thinks he can show you some things about concentrating, Alysa." He actually looked hopeful. What about, I wouldn't know. Veezara suddenly smiled. Apparently this was something 'older' assassins recognized. "Fine, let's go," I conceded, turning to Cicero.
Cicero was nodding violently. I briefly wondered if he would kill himself nodding so hard. "First, Alysa must change into normal clothes, not from the Dark Brotherhood! And Cicero must make sure the Night Mother is safe while he is gone, so Cicero will meet you outside the Door!"
I sighed. "Fine, alright. I'll see you there." I watched Cicero skip away.
Veezara chuckled softly. "I don't know what he has planned for you, Alysa, but I think you should try it," he said, then went on to practice more by himself. I stalked to my chest, digging in it for something vaguely resembling something halfway normal. I eventually found a dress at the very bottom, one of those the serving girls wore in taverns – thankfully not that very short, revealing thing some wore – with open shoulders. I shrugged, raising my brows as I pulled it out. It would surely still fit me.

I had managed to avoid each and every single member of the Family after I had put on the dress. I felt like an intruder, really. It was horrible. I felt exposed, vulnerable without my armor, and Dark Robes. I sat on a boulder outside, waiting for Cicero to come. I probably hadn't been here for long, but it felt like forever, and if he didn't arrive soon I was going back inside and nothing except a contract would get me out again. I was about to stand up when the door opened, and Cicero stepped out.
He was still a jester – but dressed more like a normal person, and that ridiculous hat was gone, his auburn hair loose. I was struck speechless for a moment, thinking for just a moment that maybe, maybe the jester I had come to know was gone: the Fool of Hearts was still inside the Sanctuary, and the man had come out. "What does Alysa think of Cicero? He feels too normal, but he must put the Fool of Hearts to one side for now."
I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding, laughing and standing up. "You know, Cicero, for a moment there I thought you were someone else," I admitted. "But it looks good."
Cicero beamed at me, clasping his hands at his heart. "Cicero is glad you like it!" he paused, looking torn for a moment as his eyes ran over me quickly. "I would like to know… if you would link arms with Cicero while we walk to Falkreath City."
I smiled. "I have a better idea."
"Oh?"
I motioned for him to follow me.

Cicero had been thoroughly pleased to see a horse, and mounted quickly once he had insisted on tacking up by himself, lifting me into the saddle in front of him easily. I felt unstable sitting sideways in a skirt, and sharing a saddle with another person, although I was comforted by the fact that Cicero could apparently ride well. The crazy jester was full of surprises, as I quickly learnt. We made it to the city fairly quickly, Cicero singing some ridiculous song at the top of his lungs. Thrice-cursed bards…. But I couldn't help but feel happy, a feeling that wasn't natural to me, and left me feeling wary, and as if my senses were dulled at the same time. I was letting go of control, something I had rarely done before.

We left my horse on the outskirts, and walked in. I almost expected Cicero to link arms with me, but he was just walking very close. He was too close, in fact. It made me a little uncomfortable. "Tell me, sweet sister," he whispered in my ear, "what would you like to do in this city with dear Cicero? Perhaps we should go prank the inn-keepers, or assassinate a random stranger for our Dread Father and Unholy Mother! Or we could dance, or run around Falkreath naked, but it's cold and Cicero would rather not do that, since he is an Imperial and he'll get very sick very quickly. But you can, if you want – you are a Nord…. Cicero will make sure the guards don't stop you," he giggled, his face still by my ear. I felt my face flood with warmth, something I couldn't remember having ever done, no matter what I had seen or done. "Let's maybe start with an assassination. Show me how it's done."
Cicero chuckled, the sound almost sending shivers down my spine. I had never expected him to sound so… sinister. "Yes, sweet sister, I will show you, and then you will show Cicero."

He bounded off suddenly, and I wanted him close again, suddenly wishing I hadn't said anything. What had I just unleashed on this pitiful town? Then again, they could do with the excitement. We had wandered into a street market, and I watched Cicero approach a vendor. What now? I thought, wandering to a jewellery stand for no reason other than it was closest. Cicero started talking animatedly with the shopkeep, his arms flying from side to side and brushing across the tabletop. I glanced down at the amulet in beneath my fingers, then again at the weapon stand. Cicero was gone – melting into the crowd. I suddenly realized he had swept one of the daggers in one of his wild gestures.

He walked up behind a man whom I had once seen harass a girl not much younger than myself. He suddenly swayed in the thick of the crowd, and Cicero pushed past him. Then his auburn hair was gone. A woman screamed, blood on the front of her dress, all the way to the floor as the man had fallen to the ground against her and her knees gave in. I hadn't even seen the kill. It just happened. And Cicero was gone. Everyone was gathering around the body, guards arriving on the scene shoving through the throng. A hand touched the small of my back, and I spun round, raising my knee and my left fist to punch. I was quickly subdued, held tightly to someone. "How did you think that went, Alysa?" Cicero asked, letting go of me as soon I calmed down a little. I frowned. No-one had ever managed to sneak up on me before. "Cicero thinks you don't pay much attention to what is behind you," he continued as if he hadn't asked a question.
"It was impressive. I didn't even see it –"
"AH! That is your problem! Alysa doesn't see, she glances. Cicero knows you can do better than him, if you pay attention and learn. You could kill anywhere, anytime, even with a guard next to you." He grinned, a devilish fire in his steel-grey eyes.

I narrowed my eyes. I could take the challenge. "Pick one, anyone in this city," I dared him. I would prove I was just as capable, and better because I wasn't the Keeper; I was out on contracts and I killed more often than he did – and until I knew some more of his story, I was sure I had killed more than him, anyway. Cicero looked over the crowd, and grinned. "That boy, sweet sister, is the one you must kill for me," he said softly, pointing at a young man, perhaps a farmer from around here. Not that there was all too much to farm, unless you liked goats and cows. He seemed the least interested in the murder, even looking a little sick at the thought of a dead human. He carried a short iron sword with him, and he was heading out of Falkreath to the south. I followed him with my eyes, waiting a while longer before I followed him: I knew a shorter route out, and if he continued south he would come across me for sure. I listened to the world around me, and Cicero was somewhere further behind, waiting and watching.

There was something of a sparse forest, and the area was hilly, rocky and not the best for a hapless, helpless woman in a dress. I passed a bush with blue berries, and crushed a few against my ankle, pleased with the dark blue stain on my skin. The road was just ahead and I could hear someone coming. I frowned at my blue-stained hand – my only give-away – then started running, clutching my skirts as I jumped over a few things, then crashed onto the road, feigning a fall.

Cicero will admit, she was clever with the berries. To pretend she was hurt! Very clever, but she fell soon after, and Cicero almost ran to help her when she cried out, holding her ankle carefully. Was Alysa really hurt? Or was she pretending? Cicero hoped she was pretending… the boy he pointed out to her came running to help. Cicero watched them talk, wasn't really listening because the boy was lifting her – arms around her small waist – and she was hiding her hand from him. The blue one, with the berry juice. Cicero watched her other hand trail over the boy's chest, and Cicero knew fury. Oh, sweet Night Mother stay humble Cicero's hand! I must let Alysa show me how she does it… so Cicero knows how to show her better.

Alysa was still touching him – the boy, not Cicero, though Cicero might have liked it if she touched Cicero – close to his sword, and she was smiling, talking softly and the boy looked bashful. Oh, Cicero likes that word! Bashful… as the Fool of Hearts should be! Cicero shakes his head, he must concentrate! Alysa's hand was around the hilt – oh, clever Nord woman! So very clever…. The boy didn't even have time to look shocked when she sliced right through his throat! And she smiled at him, so sweetly, so darkly! Ooh-hoo! She is cold, cruel! Just as a True Assassin should be! She turns to Cicero, her face and top of her dress a little bloody. Well, very bloody. "Cicero commends you on your kill, sweet Sister, and he thinks we should ride back. I think you're a gifted assassin, much worthier than that…" he stops himself from singing her praise: he doesn't know how much Alysa likes Astrid.
"So much worthier than who?" she asked dear Cicero, coming closer after she dropped the sword. "Be honest with me, Cicero."
"Much worthier than that harlot-pretender, Astrid," Cicero spat. How dare she mock the Night Mother and her Keeper? Alysa smiled, chuckling wryly. But she shook her head and walked on past Cicero. What did that mean? That Alysa agreed? "What do you think of that, Alysa?"
"Me?" she turned, pointing at herself. Cicero was about to say Who Else when she went on. "I think Astrid is a little too attached to her way of doing things, but then, it has kept this Family alive, while none of the others have made it…" she paused, walking through the forest with Cicero right behind. Oh, she was so pretty…. "I guess I don't know what it had been like to have a Listener, and how things had been before. Tell me about the Night Mother, and the Listener, and everything as it had been, Cicero. I want to know what the Dark Brotherhood is now missing."

So Cicero told her: the Listener listened to the Night Mother, when she heard the prayers the normal people prayed in the Black Sacrament, and how the Listener would come to be again once The Words were spoken. Cicero told Alysa about the Speakers, the fingers to the Black Hand, where the Listener was the thumb, and how the five children the Night Mother killed for Sithis were kept alive that way. Though, Cicero supposes, once it's dead it's always dead, unless they serve the Dread Father in the Void. Alysa listened, Alysa learned and Cicero thinks she might join him in his plan for later. But Cicero will see.

I was still processing everything Cicero had told me when we eventually got around to our side of Falkreath again, and rode back to the Sanctuary. If all of what he said was even halfway true, shouldn't this remaining Family search for the Listener? Shouldn't we be recruiting more members, maybe taking young ones who showed promise and raise them to be one of us? Honorhall would be full of young children we could mould and shape into the perfect assassin. Wouldn't that ensure our survival, along with reverting to the Old Ways? I didn't – couldn't – know, and it seems things went backwards after a Listener in the third era disappeared when some portal opened in the Niben Bay.

Maybe one day I would travel south and see of this portal was still there, and find out about why the Listener left Tamriel, and what was on the other side. Cicero couldn't tell me much about it: just that it had been a strange island that had appeared and never really gone away, and no-one went in. It was too much for me to think about, and when we arrived at the Door a little after dusk, we were still silent. Cicero bade me a merry night of murder, and disappeared down a separate passage. I slapped my hand to my forehead: I still hadn't spied on Cicero's mystery conversation. What's to say he wasn't just talking to himself or the Night Mother, in the hopes she would talk to him? I was more convinced now than before that was exactly what he was doing.