A/N: Woo-hoo! Three chapters in one day! I feel awesome about it!XD Haha, obviously not all are for this one – two are for The Tale of Arya, Champion of Cyrodiil. I'd come up with a better title for it, but damn: I just can't think of anything and it's kinda grown on me so that's how it'll stayX3 So anyway, back to For the Jester's Heart, I've taken a few creative liberties with Cicero's past – bite me if you don't like it – and I think it turned out pretty ok. They came to me when I was writing extra exams for university acceptance, and I spent all three hours grinning like an idiot because of itX3 Oh well, it was awesome, and I have no regrets!:D So, without further ado, I present Chapter 16. Enjoy, and Sithis keep you in the Void.
PS: I've scrapped the current drawing of Alysa – she just looks a little funny to me. Also, I'll be heading to London from the 14th to the 24th of June 2013 – no updates during that time, although I should have drawings and chapters ready for uploading by then. That's all: enjoy!:D
Chapter 16: Let the Planning Begin!
"Good, you're back again. Well, what did Mallory have to say? Is the amulet authentic?" Astrid asked eagerly, her eyes shining as she almost jumped up and down in excitement. For the first time since Cicero arrived, I found myself agreeing with her emotions. I really wanted this as well – maybe even more. "Delvin said the amulet is authentic, and is uniquely made for each Elder Council member," I replied, a grin spreading over my face and a light, giddy feeling rising in my stomach. I couldn't wait to get started on these contracts….
Astrid's eyes widened and she gaped for a few seconds. "The Elder Council… Oh, now that explains quite a bit! Motierre, you naughty, naughty boy! Hiring the Dark Brotherhood to help you rise beyond your station…. Delicious," she giggled darkly.
I smirked in reply. It really was quite something. I held out the letter of credit. "Delvin agreed to buy the amulet," I said before she could ask. She opened the seal, her eyes gleaming at the amount she saw inside. She folded it shut, a certain light in her eyes. I met her gaze evenly. "Splendid! Then we're ready to begin. Or, more specifically, you're ready to begin. After all, you're the one the Night Mother spoke to. Now then; I hope you have something nice to wear. Because you'll be going to a wedding."
I raised my brows. "The first contract. It's only due in several weeks."
Astrid nodded excitedly. "Yes. I'll send notice to our spies in the Thieves Guild, and our contacts in the cities to gather as much information about the wedding as we can. You seem to know something about it…" she trailed.
I nodded. "I spoke to someone who is close to the top Stormcloaks, and he mentioned the wedding would probably only be set in a month to two months at the fastest. Vici seems to have trouble on deciding about anything."
Astrid nodded thoughtfully. "Very good. Well, you won't actually be attending the wedding, but the public reception. It'll last three days, and should be a lovely affair," she purred, smiling darkly. "You'll mingle with the guests, eat some cake… stab the bride. Oh yes," she in response to my half-grin. "You've got to kill Vittoria Vici. At her wedding. And they say romance is dead…." I nodded, listening as Astrid continued. "I'll let you know as soon as we find out more about the happenings, Alysa. How is Aventus doing?" she asked before I could leave.
"Well. I'm meeting him in the training area now, in fact."
Astrid nodded. "It's good to know. You know, you'd make a lovely couple, even though he is younger."
I narrowed my eyes at her, feeling my blood turn to ice. I clenched my jaw and left. Aventus… no. I couldn't even begin to imagine it. He was a child to me still – no older than eleven when we had first met, and I had been nineteen, hardened by three years of life on the streets of Windhelm. I wrinkled my nose in disgust at Astrid's suggestion, striding to the training area. Arnbjorn was working the forge, Veezara was meditating, and Aventus was warming up, shirtless. I stopped to look at him. He was – I supposed – pleasing, but still…. I almost grinned when I thought of Cicero training yesterday. That, I wouldn't mind seeing again. Gabriella appeared from deeper in the Sanctuary, a strange smile on her face as she openly admired our younger brother, while he moved through different stances completely oblivious to her. I sighed, and padded closer. I could tell he was already warm, and excited to train. I would be happy to oblige, especially if I could give him a proper beating to boot.
"BROTHER!" Cicero shouted, sing-song as he skipped to us. "Cicero would be honored to help train his younger brother! Honored indeed! If the great and mighty Listener would permit humble Cicero, that is."
I smirked at the ground to stop the stupid grin over my face. "Personally, I would never say no to a more experienced brother…" I trailed, lifting my gaze to my younger brother's. Aventus seemed to pout a little, while a certain gleam came into Cicero's eyes. I wondered what exactly he had planned for the poor child. Either way, the younger Imperial had a lot to learn from the both of us. And it wasn't going to come easily.
Sneaking, and lockpicking, and stalking, and pretending to pickpocket – that's what humble Cicero and the mighty Listener started teaching their little brother – he he he, Cicero enjoyed teaching him, because it gave Cicero a chance to use skills he had almost forgotten. Almost, but not quite. Cicero remembered them again quickly, and had so much fun teaching his younger brother to sneak… oh, Cicero was cruel, Cicero knows, but really, when the Fool of Hearts is given a chance… "Oh, if I see that fair maid Nelly, I'll plunge my knife into her belly!" Cicero sang, twirling and skipping to the dining hall with a beaten Aventus behind, and a bemused-amused Alysa next to sweet Cicero. Oh! 'Twas bliss, sweet Mother! She – the honorable Listener, of course – shot Cicero a grin at his rhyme.
Cicero had also trained with his Listener – she was getting better, but was still fighting a little too clean – not the kind of fighting humble Cicero had gotten used to, really. Cicero went quiet when he remembered that night, and how his Listener had been there for him. It was all those long years ago on that night that Cicero had learned to survive – not just sneak and stab-stab-stab and escape, or leave a flourish, or a signature of his work… and sometimes training for proper combat. Since the start of it all, the Black Hand had made it important for all the members to be able to fight – really fight, like the Legion or the Stormcloaks, and not just like assassins in the dark. Not that there weren't those who knew it already, it just wasn't all that practiced. And not that it helped most, but it had helped Cicero, and now Cicero was still alive, in the last Sanctuary in Tamriel. Well, except for the other one, but Cicero wouldn't mention it now. Not yet, and perhaps only later to the Listener.
"Ooh! Cicero thinks that smells wonderful! Delicious! MAGICAL!" he cackled – it was definitely Festus working on lunch. Cicero had learned to smell the difference!
Aventus half-laughed. "How do you know Ch-Cic-Keeper?" he stumbled over his words.
Cicero flashed the boy a dark grin. It was fun to make him nervous, really. Lots and lots of fun! Tee-hee-hee. "Cicero just knows," he grins, grabbing dear, sweet Alysa's wrist and pulled her along to the hall.
She chuckled, impressed. "Well, I suppose you were right," she smirked, and Cicero beamed! So happy to see her happy – Mother chose well, as Mother always does! Cicero is glad to have one like Alysa for a Listener. So strong, so mighty, so pretty… especially pretty and clever, sweet Night Mother.
Festus looked up from his work at the wondrous, magical and amazing food. Cicero really did prefer his cooking to Nazir's, but then, the Redguard wasn't so bad, either. Just different. "Hmf, you're getting too good at recognizing the differences, Keeper," he growled, but Cicero had a feeling he was a great big wonderful ball of something soft underneath – I was very sure of that, but I suppose the wizard enjoyed being grumpy and rude and intelligent all the time – for Cicero, if he had to be like that, humble Cicero would go crazy… he he he, yes, absolute madness!
Cicero saw Nazir snort, ignoring some sarcastic comment which his dear Listener scoffed at happily and Aventus laughed at. The Dunmer woman and the green-lizard-man had left apparently, or weren't here yet, or were somewhere else because Cicero hadn't seen them yet. Or, maybe he saw the fortune-teller this morning while training with Aventus… but Cicero isn't really very concerned with her. Strange womer, that one. Very strange…. Cicero poured mead and ale for his Family – he was feeling happy and generous, after all, otherwise he would have done it just for himself and dear Alysa – and squealed happily when his beloved Listener came with a large plate of food for Cicero, and a slightly smaller one for herself. Cicero grinned gleefully when Aventus had to go for himself – he wasn't nearly as lucky as sweet Cicero was! No, dear Night Mother, he never would be….
It was a hearty meal, and Cicero was thoroughly, through-and-through happy and glad and ecstatic and thrilled! Cicero enjoyed himself a lot, especially when the assassinations and planning for the Emperor's assassinations came up when Astrid and Arnbjorn and Gabriella-the-Dunmer came in. Oh, oh! It would be wonderful! Spectacular! Cicero wishes he could have joined his Listener on her contracts – it would have been so much fun! The Listener and the Keeper! On the hunt! But Cicero would settle for his honorable Listener's stories, and would always, always stay behind to look after you, Cicero's dear Unholy Matron. Always.
It always occurred to me after a meal, that a bunch of assassins together were incredibly loud. Pleasantly so, but loud all the same. Talk over lunch had quickly turned to that of my string of assassinations-to-be, and the planning each member was putting in. Veezara had apparently left a day or two ago to pan out Solitude – even before the assassination was to be planned, it had been established that a grand wedding would take place there. We'd know more once our Shadowscale came back. Nazir and Festus had their usual banter about who was the better chef, and only when Astrid and Arnbjorn had come in – the werewolf grumbling something about not having enough raw meat – did the rival chefs slow down enough to add to the conversation. I was pleased to see Aventus listened first, asking questions that were growing in usefulness each time. Still not quite as they should be, but between my training with him on the way to Riften and back, and Cicero's rather relentless training that morning, and an apparent aptitude for assassinations, he was learning fairly quickly. I smirked into my mug when I thought of how the morning had gone. It would undoubtedly be my turn again a little while after lunch, and I found myself excited by the idea that I could train with Cicero again. He was a challenge, and although I knew I was a sour loser and he would surely beat me many more times, I welcomed it. Probably a little more than I should have.
After lunch had become more of an easy conversation around the table, I excused myself to see to the horses. I was actually feeling a little cramped inside the Sanctuary, and some time outside was just what I needed. The horses were munching quietly outside, sneezing now and again as the seeds of some plant irritated them. My steed whickered softly at my appearance, and I felt a softened half-smile, half-smirk spread over my face. I grabbed a handful of grass, and touched the palomino's shoulder before I started sweeping the grass over its coat in attempt to brush the dirt off. I'll need to buy brushes when I head into town again, I made a mental note, and listened to their breathing and the quiet forest sounds.
The horses sensed a presence before I did, and I turned to search where they were looking, only to see Cicero walking closer, hands in his pockets and throwing his legs out, striding as if his legs were made of wooden poles. The horses lost interest quickly, while I kept watching, amused. Cicero beamed at me from the other side of the horse. "Cicero thought he'd find you here, when the Listener said to excuse her," he grinned, very proud of himself.
I couldn't help but grin back, and quickly glanced down at the horse's withers. I wondered if he could see a change in me whenever he was near. As much as I hoped so, I almost dreaded it at the same time. It was the strangest feeling for me.
Cicero hasn't expected the Listener to go outside – Cicero thought she was coming back when she excused herself. But when she didn't return, Cicero remembered she said over lunch that she had gotten two new horses. Two! Cicero was so proud of his mighty Listener's clever plans! So very well chosen! Very well indeed, sweet Mother…. Cicero cut a handful of grass and brushed the other side of his Listener's horse. It was quiet, and Cicero was content. Just the Listener and the Keeper – well, the horses and the birds and the worms and the insects and the plants too – but just the Listener and the Keeper.
"So, what made you become an assassin, Keeper?" the Listener asked. Cicero stopped brushing to look at his Listener, just able to put her chin on the horse's back. If she wanted to, that is. "You don't have to tell me; I was just wondering," she added quickly, brushing intently. Cicero wonders at how interesting brushing a horse can be.
Cicero continues brushing. "Well, Cicero was never meant to be an assassin. Cicero was supposed to join the Legion, like Cicero's father, and his father's father, and his father's father's father… and so on. Many generations from Cicero's family went to the Legion," Cicero frowned. "Cicero never wanted to join. Cicero wanted to be a bard! Or a mage, but a bard first. But! Cicero forgets: he was the youngest son, and had a sister and two brothers. Both in the Legion – his brothers, that is – and Cicero's then-father was very proud. He taught Cicero how to use the dagger – Cicero had always, always loved daggers." Cicero giggles, looking up to see his Listener listening attentively. At-tent-ive-lyyyy… strange word. Cicero flashes a grin, resting his hand on the wheat-colored horse. "Cicero thought he'd get a better chance at being a mage, so Cicero asked to be trained by the Legion mages. Cicero was a fool! But, not yet the Fool of Hearts! Cicero couldn't learn as much as he should have fast enough, and Cicero was trying so hard. Cicero would have tried anything just so that he wasn't just another worthless soldier…. So Cicero made the mistake of mentioning he might like to go to the Bard's College in Solitude – Cicero had always been clever with rhymes. But, Cicero never really used it, so it got rusty and dusty and GONE!" Cicero grinned at Alysa.
"A bard? That explains all of your songs," she nodded, an assassinly-lazy-clever half-grin. "I can imagine you being a bard."
"So could Cicero. But, as Cicero says, he made the mistake of mentioning it to his then-father… anyway, Cicero left that night with a small pack and his dagger. But Cicero was a young, stupid, foolish boy of fourteen: he didn't know gold didn't just APPEAR!" Cicero waved his hands and made a 'poof' sound. "He made it to Anvil from the Imperial City, and did some here-and-there work on the docks. But Cicero soon had to leave, because a man remembered Cicero's father, and then Cicero, and called Cicero 'Chickpea'. Cicero always hated that nickname…. So, Cicero…" he trailed off, grinning at Alysa. She grinned back, darkly and lovely-ly as she realized what Cicero said-without-saying. "Cicero quite liked the feeling of slashing and cutting and stabbing, and poisoning and skinning… so then he made his way to Chorrol, so no-one would find him and because he needed to go: too many were finding what Cicero left be-hiii-iiiiinnd," Cicero sang, giggling with his dear Listener. "It was there – in Chorrol – where Cicero really started killing, and a then-Speaker found Cicero. He was a Dunmer, and taught Cicero all about sneaking and stalking and lockpicking and assassin-fighting. He kept us off the road for a month – or was it three? Cicero doesn't remember – before he took Cicero to the Bruma Sanctuary." Cicero stopped, frowning to himself as he remembered his Family there. So kind, so accepting…. Cicero had immediately been at home.
"At least they found you quickly," the dear Listener said quietly, and Cicero looked up. He was about to ask what the mighty Listener meant when the horses jumped and snorted.
"I apologize; I hadn't realized people and horses were here," a hunter – huntress – appeared, dropping down from an outcrop. "Could you tell me which Hold I'm in?" she asked.
"Falkreath. The city's half-an-hour or so that way," Alysa pointed. "Perhaps we can accompany you; we need supplies, anyway."
His Listener had a plan to protect the Sanctuary? Or was she going to kill the huntress? Cicero wondered: the huntress was very close to the Door. "I'd appreciate that," the huntress smiled.
The Listener gestured for the huntress to come past, and nodded at Cicero. He grinned broadly. You see, sweet Mother, the huntress was too close to the Black Door…. Too close. "Tee-hee-hee," Cicero couldn't help but giggle. The huntress glanced back at Cicero, concerned. Then she froze. "Is that… a… Black Door? For the Dark Brotherhood?" she asked, staring at the Door.
Alysa came up behind her. "Yes. So?"
"We need to tell the Penitus Oculatus! They must erase these disgusting, bastardly cutthroats!"
"Someday, maybe. But not today."
Oh, the Listener was so cool! Composed! Cicero loved the dark smile that played her lips when she looked at the huntress who kept complaining. Alysa crossed her arms as the huntress grabbed her by the shoulders, shaking the Listener! How dare she?! Cicero snarled, whipping out his dagger. The Listener moved, turning the huntress to face Cicero. "Sithis take you to the Void, Huntress," the Listener smirked, and Cicero saw the huntress's fear. "Oh, if I see that fair maid Nelly, I'll plunge my knife into HER BELLY!" Cicero sang, giggling as he stab-stab-stab, slash-slash-slashed the huntress.
Cicero and his Listener Alysa were both covered in blood. Lots of red, warm, metallic-tasting blood!
Especially Cicero.
He he he. Cicero wiped his blade on the grass, hoist-hoist-hoisting the huntress into his shoulders and with the honorable Listener's help, hid her body. I looked up at her once we were done. She was so pretty, even covered in all the blood. Maybe even more so than before… all the little splatters and drops around her face and mouth…. She licked her lips, tasting some of the blood as she did. Cicero wondered what she would do if he kissed her… Cicero supposed he shouldn't yet. He swallowed hard. "Shall we go back and train a little, beloved Listener?" he managed instead.
She smiled. Really smiled. At Cicero. "I'd be honored, Keeper."