A/N: Happy days! Can't say a double update will happen again; I just couldn't leave this one like thisX3. May the Unholy Matron guide you, after a review. You know you want to….

Chapter 9: Storytelling and Celebrations

Babette asked Cicero to join her in herb shopping late one windy-cloudy afternoon. Cicero wondered why, then he remembered the un-child was like a child to everyone else! So he agreed, locking the Night Mother and his chambers and he fixed his jester's cap. Babette was waiting patiently by the Door, a basket in arm. "Sweet sister, shall we go, go, GO?!"
Babette rolled her eyes. "Yes, Keeper."
Cicero opened the door and held it for Babette, grinning brightly. Once he looked at the sky, he frowned. Alysa hadn't come back yet, and it was a month off five months since she left. I wondered when she would come back. "Brother?" an innocent girl's voice called. Cicero was surprised to see it was Babette. He hadn't thought the un-child could be so much like a child….

Cicero closed the Door behind him, holding his hand for the un-child "Yes, sister?"
Babette just looked him over. Cicero wondered what she was thinking, but then Babette smiled too innocently – at least Cicero thought so – then put her cold hand in his. "Let's go to Falkreath!" she exclaimed, excited. And they all wondered about me… Cicero was sure this vampire was worse. Much worse. When Cicero and Babette got close to Falkreath, the un-child ran ahead, giggling. Cicero almost didn't run after her. Oh, sweet Night Mother, Cicero would have trouble with that one… "Sweet sister! Don't get lost!" he called, spying Babette again. Not that he'd lost her. But Cicero could, if she wanted to be lost…. Vampires were always tricky. Tricky tricky….

Oh! Cicero knows what he can do while his sister buys herbs that sadly doesn't involve killing! Cicero can perform! He cackles, and starts dancing, miming… and what a crowd the Fool of Hearts gathered! Young, first, then older and older and oldest! Ha ha ha! "Good sir!" Cicero shouted at a weapons dealer, the same one he stole the dagger from the last time he came with Alysa… oh, that was fun, Mother! Cicero should do it again! "Cicero, the Fool of Hearts, would like a few daggers! For juggling!" Cicero showed him what he meant. The man looked concerned. If Cicero was that man, maybe he'd be concerned, too: but then, Cicero is Cicero and not that man, because that man is himself and not Cicero's self… Cicero is a little confused, sweet Mother. The crowd cheered and jeered! For me to have daggers! "Give him a few daggers, Haaldin. What's the harm?" someone called. Cicero bowed as the knives were brought to him, then took them up. "First, just three for Cicero!" he called, juggling. Later, Cicero called again. "Another one, dear people!"

And they held out another one for Cicero, until he had, oh, seven? Seven! Seven deadly dangerous daggers to juggle! Cicero giggled. What would they do if he threw the daggers at seven very lucky, lucky people? They wouldn't know what hit them! Cicero laughed a little louder, and then a lute and drums gave him a beat to dance to. Oh, a funny joke! Don't you think, Mother? "How about another two, Jester?" a familiar voice called. Cicero almost forgot to juggle, almost dropped his daggers.

It was the Listener! It was Alysa! The Listener has returned from the hunt! Cicero beamed. "Of course! Throw them to Cicero, Li-lovely lady!" Cicero stammered, grinning. Alysa smirked; she heard Cicero's slip. He giggled as she readied her daedric daggers, coming closer. The crowd parted and whispered… oh, what a moment! Cicero noticed Alysa wasn't wearing her Dark Brotherhood armor, just the plain leather the commoners wore.

She took the dagger by the blade. Cicero glanced back at his flying daggers, frowning quickly. She was going to throw it like a throwing knife! It came! Cicero stepped aside, catching it and threw it into the air! The crowd cheers loudly! For the Fool of Hearts! And for the Listener's skill! Cicero grins and laughs at the crowd: oh, if they only knew his true skill, sweet Night Mother! Cicero is juggling eight now! "Ready when you are!" Cicero calls, moving in a circle with his daggers. Oh, he does love these sharp shiny daggers!

"The last one," Listener Alysa said, speaking just above the almost-silent crowd. She readied her blade. Cicero watches. She throws! Slower, this time: concentrating on not killing humble Cicero.

He catches!

He throws! And he juggles!

The crowd cheers again!

Even the un-child can't help herself: she's grinning at Cicero's skill! Cicero sees a gap in the crowd. There's a wooden post on the other side of the crowd… and I throw! All seven – one right after the other, right below one another into the post! A pity it wasn't a person… or many people. He caught the Listener's two daggers, and held them out to her, bowing as she took them. The crowd cheered as Cicero bowed again, taking off his cap for coins. "Thank you, thank you! The Fool of Hearts thanks you! Cicero appreciates your time, O audience of Falkreath!" They all give him at least one coin, and some even gave him up to five and one gave him six, and Cicero puts his cap on carefully. He mustn't waste his gold, no not at all! Not ever! The other place might need new furnishings still…. Babette bought her last few herbs, and Alysa disappeared. Cicero was disappointed.

I took the un-child's hand when she held it out and left with her. He wondered how often she came to buy, but didn't ask. They were halfway to the Sanctuary when Cicero saw the Listener! "Listener!" Cicero stage-whispered, leaving the un-child and skipping to Alysa. She stood, a lazy smile on her face. Oh, such a pretty face, sweet Mother… every time Cicero sees her he knows you made the perfect choice – as you always do, Mother – for your Listener. "Cicero, Babette," she greeted. "That was quite a performance you've put together, Cicero."
Cicero beamed. Babette sighed. "Cicero found many ways to help the Family!"
"Yes, Keeper. That you have… mind your cap doesn't fall off in front of Astrid or Arnbjorn… one can never know what you three will do if that happens," she said, leaving for the Sanctuary.
Cicero and Alysa watch the un-child disappear. "Cicero wonders why the Listener is wearing that armor and not your usual armor," Cicero looked back at Alysa.
She frowned. Well, rather scowled. She reached for her pack on the ground, but Cicero was faster. She sighed, waving at Cicero that he could carry it. "Alright, then. Well, Penitus Oculatus agents are active on the roads. If I hadn't run into the Dragonborn, they would have found me."
"A disguise! Clever, dear Listener! Dragonborn? And where is Listener Alysa's horse?" Cicero doesn't like the way she said that word, 'Dragonborn'….
She nodded as we walked. "A dragon was attacking Rorikstead, and grabbed my horse. I helped the Dragonborn kill the dragon and he told the Penitus Oculatus agents when they arrived in the inn that night that no-one had the armor they described. They know exactly what we wear, Cicero. And they're getting bolder in their search for us," Alysa frowned. "What's going on between you, Astrid and Arnbjorn?"
It was Cicero's turn to sigh. "The pretender still defies the Night Mother's wishes. Cicero confronted her and her… husband wanted to attack poor Cicero! He's never liked the Keeper! If Festus hadn't returned when he did, I think I might not have let the pretender and her husband live…" Cicero hisses. Oh, it still makes him furious, angry and deadly to think of it!
"Hm. Well, between us, I found Volunruud anyway," Alysa said quietly. Cicero draped an arm around the Listener's shoulders.
She looked a little uncomfortable, glaring at Cicero's arm. "Of course, Listener! Just between Listener, and Keeper! Just as it should be! Well, until the Listener finds a Speaker…" Cicero trailed sadly. Then Cicero would just be Keeper again to Alysa.
"Cicero…."
"Yes, Listener?" Cicero sang.
"Don't…" she looked at Cicero's arm.
He sighed, taking his arm back. "Of course, Listener."

Alysa nodded, saying the passcode to the Door. Cicero followed her inside, stopping to admire the stone door sliding shut with a boom! Cicero smiled at Alysa's back. Her hair was recently tied again, the long wisps wisping away from the wind that had blown in. Cicero wanted to smooth them away, but he knew the Listener wouldn't let poor Cicero touch her again, not so soon, anyway. "Festus returned a little while after you were gone," Cicero told Alysa. "He seems happy to know you are the Listener!" Cicero clapped and skipped around Alysa. She grinned. Time had made her cold to dear Cicero again…. Cicero would fix that soon enough! Alysa sighed and rolled her eyes. "Come on, I'm looking forwards to whatever Nazir and Festus argued over making," she said, walking on and skipping down the stairs to the main area. Cicero followed her as she made her way to her bed, and put her pack on the floor. She looked at Cicero. Cicero looked back. He grinned. "Oh! Cicero understands! Cicero will see you downstairs!" he turns, skipping down to the dining hall to talk to Festus.

I had forgotten how easily Cicero could get in my space, after spending almost six months by myself and as little physical contact with people as I could get away with. I pulled out my red and black robes and quickly changed into them. I didn't like the way this leather fit me, and it was hard, uncomfortable compared to the Brotherhood's armor. I finished quickly, the smell of food wafting down the passages to my nose. I was hungry for something from home. I hurried down the stairs, barefoot and slipped in behind Nazir as he filled a bowl of a spicy stew. "Toothpick…" Arnbjorn growled behind me. I turned to smirk at him.
"You snooze, you lose," I chirped, sweeping the bowl out of Nazir's hands and planting myself on a chair at the table. Nazir had chuckled, and Cicero giggled hysterically from where he was stationed at the mead, filling two large tankards and setting one down next to me. I raised it when Cicero sat down in the chair next to mine. "Cheers," I said. Cicero grinned, echoing me as we clinked our tankards together. The tables filled quickly with the other members, though I still hadn't seen Astrid, and Arnbjorn had apparently only come in to fetch food, glaring at me and Cicero briefly when he passed.

Even Babette came in, though her nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell of cooked food. She sat across from me, two chairs down, next to Festus. She had an excited, expectant look on her face. I blinked at her, playing dumb. "I forgot to ask you earlier. So…" she started, shifting in her seat a few times.
Cicero glanced between us. "'So' what, Babette?" I asked innocently, blowing gently on the stew in my spoon before I tasted. I closed my eyes in bliss. By Sithis, this was the best food I'd had in six long months…. "Alysa! My poison! You did use it, right?!" she insisted, her eyes going a little red from excitement.

I took my time to answer, eating more of the stew just to ruffle her feathers. "A new poison? What does this one do, Babette?" Festus asked. He seemed to be the most affectionate about Babette out of the all the Family members, and that was probably only due to the fact that they were both interested in the arcane. The little vampire grinned, full of herself for the moment. "It does ice damage while simultaneously driving the victim insane. Genius, I know. So, how did it work? How much did you use? What happened?" she pressed, turning back to me.
I sighed through my nose but grinned coyly. Cicero was at the forefront of the cheer to convince me to share the details. I leaned back in my chair. "Oh, Babette, it was… oh, I was… I want more of that poison next time!" I cackled, then added, "Well, it works a little quickly, but very well."

I needed no further egging to describe my meeting with the unfortunate bard, and his tragic demise. Babette looked like she was about to cry from pride. Nazir and Festus had both laughed: at least they had agreed that Luburk's death was worth laughing about. Cicero had tried to imitate Luburk's howling, and might have gotten close, too, if he was a little more drunk. I had laughed, and added that not even Arnbjorn at his worst could make that kind of noise, which dampened the jester's mood a little, but it lightened quickly as other exploits were passed around. Festus explained a few magical details but gave up when we asked about his distorted victims, especially the very bloody ones, instead of the technicalities behind the spells.

Nazir told tales of older contracts, and the times he had been hunting in Hammerfell before he had been moved to Skyrim. Cicero was planning something in the midst of all the merriment: his eyes were twinkling and the grin that spread over his face gave him away. He licked the ends of his fingers, and like lightning he stretched across the table to smack Babette on the forehead, shrieking with laughter at her blank-shocked face.

I was still sniggering about it with the others when he did the same to me. I gasped, tensing and blinking, my laughter dead in my throat. Cicero was trying to stifle giggles. I wiped my forehead with a napkin, and turned to glare at him, but found I laughed the hardest of everyone. Mead flowed like water from Skyrim's mountain streams, and Nazir had eventually grabbed a drum and played some old, tribal Redguard beat. Veezara gave a fight display, and Festus graced us with an intricate magical display before waving us off and made his way to the sleeping quarters. Gabriella had come in at some stage, linking hands with Babette and spinning around.

I think I might have danced with her, too. I couldn't remember how much mead I'd had. But I was swept into different arms, and found myself spinning around and around and around and around –