A/N: Woo-hoo! Another chapter ASAP!:D Anyway, this is the last one before I head off to London, and then I'll start posting again from the week of the 24th. So, I wanna end this A/N with a couple Thank You's to my readers, favoriters, followers and silent lurkers – lilidove, SorenDevin, YuePantera, CheySkywalker, SkullKing223, Spark and Fire, Velsoul89, Horror Story 13 – and all 29 followers, 21 favoriters – it means a lot to me, you guys!:D Your reviews feed me and keep this story soaring high in my muses. Lotsa love to y'all, my lovelies! May you walk always in the shadow of Sithis.

Chapter 17: Travel Breaks and Sparring Lessons

I lay on my back in my bed that night, unable to sleep despite the training Cicero and I did together for most of the afternoon. He had beaten me each time, and it was frustrating. I learned to act faster and plan as things changed, so by the end I was figuring him out a little more, but I had been too tired to make much use of it.

And now, probably a little before midnight, I was still awake: my mind replaying the moment when Cicero and I had hidden the huntress's body. The way he had looked at me, specifically. It had been… almost…. I struggled to find the right word. Hungry? Wistful? I frowned at the ceiling. Had Cicero wanted to kiss me? A massive grin exploded across my face when I thought that. The last man I had allowed close enough to try to kiss me had gotten his throat cut seconds later: he was my target for a minor contract Nazir had given me, and that was four or five years ago. And before that… I sighed through my nose and pursed my lips. Before then it had been the man who had eventually become the first of many who turned into my ticket to the Dark Brotherhood.

My mood soured instantly as I remembered him, my lips instinctively curling into a sneer. I had been only twelve… sold when my drunk gambler of a father couldn't afford both of us anymore. I smirked darkly at the ceiling as I remembered how I had killed the nobleman he had sold me to. Oh, what a joyous night that had been. And the woman in Shor's Stone after that, and her sister, and unfortunately her son had survived. Then I went to Windhelm, and three years later my life had changed for the better….

I left those thoughts behind, and wondered what it would be like to kiss Cicero. My smirk turned into a soft smile, and I felt giddy all over. There wasn't a chance in the Void I was going to fall asleep in this state. I let my mind's eye show me the Keeper's face and especially his eyes this afternoon. I'll be saved by the Divines if he hadn't been considering whether or not he should kiss me. A stupidly massive grin was now properly plastered on my face. I needed to get rid of all my energy. I rolled upright and out of bed, wondering where I'd go, and what exactly I'd do. I settled on going through what Cicero had shown me when we returned to the Sanctuary.

It was a slow kind of training, working on balance and focus. I had failed miserably this afternoon, growing so frustrated with it that Cicero had eventually agreed to let me spar it out with him. I had forgotten that he was still better than me, even hand-to-hand, and after he pinned me to the ground for the third time, I started fighting dirty, relying on my instincts to guide my blows as I had that morning. Cicero had started sniggering gleefully, and although I was finally managing to be a little difficult to beat, he still got me another two times before we both called it quits. We were both breathing hard, and drenched in sweat. Once alone in the washroom – Cicero having left for his private one – I examined the fine collection of bruises I had acquired when we had gotten carried away. I healed them with my restoration spell, and washed away the grime of our mock-battle. I was going to be deliciously stiff in the morning.

I came back to the present when Babette glanced at me when I passed. I flashed her a toothy grin, and the coy smile of a young woman spread over the little-girl face. I pretended not to notice what she insinuated as she wiggled her brows at me, and padded barefoot to the training area. I breathed in deeply, trying to focus my thoughts on what I was going to do. It took me several minutes, but I finally calmed down enough to start stretching. I could already feel my muscles were stiff. It was a pleasant change: the last time I had been stiff was eight years ago, when my training was still incomplete. I slowly started flowing through the movements Cicero had shown me. I wasn't sure how long I had been there, but when I finally stopped I was warm, slightly damp and thoroughly tired. I cleaned myself up and donned new robes before flopping onto my bed, hugging my pillow to my chest as I lay on my stomach.

I was grumpy that morning. Grumpy and snappy, and I wanted to kill the first thing that irritated me. Little sleep did that to me, especially when I was home with my brothers and sisters, because their actions or words would probably set me off – and little Aventus would be the receiving end of it all. If I was alone, out on a contract, my mood would change from grumpy to hyper-alert. That little Imperial boy had better not push my buttons this morning…. Or Astrid, for that matter.

I stalked down for breakfast, my face set in a deep scowl. Nazir gave me a once-over. I immediately knew what sarcastic comment he would make – Good morning, Sunshine, you've got such a cheery smile, don't you go turn it upside down, now – also knowing he'd keep quiet because he wasn't interested in a fight so early. I was grateful that my Family had come to know my more extreme habits and moods. There were still leftovers from the food Festus had made yesterday afternoon, and it was warmed over the fire. I ladled the stew into a bowl, and ignoring the promise I had made to myself about mead, poured a large tankard of it to make my day start off just a little bit better.

I sat down at the furthest end of the table, away from the already chatty group. I was finally beginning to feel a little better when Aventus plopped down next to me. Oh, Sithis help you…. And me, I thought darkly, ignoring him as he started eating. I slurped the stew, concentrating on its warmth and flavor. "So, Alysa, I was thinking that today we could maybe head into Falkreath," Aventus started cheerfully. I felt the gazes of my other brothers and sisters on us, especially on Aventus. I think they might have been trying to warn him without making it too obvious. Astrid came by, rounding my end of the table, a slight smile on her lips as she winked at my younger brother. I narrowed my eyes at her, scowling even deeper. She had something to do with this. "Aventus, why don't you come join us over here?" Gabriella tried.
Aventus shook his head. "I'd like it if you could show me around, and tell me about –"
"For the love of Sithis," I spat, rounding on him. "Leave me alone. I am not interested in you: not now, not ever, boy. You were eleven when I met you; I was nineteen. Whether you like it or not, I still think of you as a little boy who belongs in Honorhall Orphanage, with all the other pathetic little creatures that were there," I stood, my half-eaten breakfast suddenly not so appealing. Thank the Night Mother my mead was already finished. "And as of now, you will refer to me as your Listener," I snarled, striding out. I was cold all over from my rage.

It vaguely registered that it was also the first time I had used my new-found title to get what I wanted. When I suddenly came to my senses again, I was standing at the Night Mother's coffin. I glanced around. I couldn't see Cicero anywhere. I opened the lid, and sat down cross-legged at the Night Mother's feet. I sighed angrily. "Damn that bloody Imperial to Sovngarde and back," I started.

Cicero froze. Was that… the Listener? No, surely Cicero is hearing things again. Hee hee, yes: just the voices again. But then it continues! I don't normally hear it so clearly…. He inches closer to the Night Mother's chambers. If there is a defiler… Cicero shall throw them on a pyre! Hee hee hee…. He snuck forwards, staying close to the wall.

A woman's voice spoke clearly – clearly angry! Oh, sweet Mother, what is she fuming and flaming and ranting and raving about? Cicero wonders. "I swear, if he doesn't just leave me alone, I'll probably end up gutting him myself! I just can't believe that idiot fool would even think that he stood a chance with me! Foolish Imperial…."

Cicero froze. Was the honorable, beautiful Listener talking about… me? Humble Cicero? Cicero hoped not. Oh, dear Night Mother and terrible Sithis, please: let it not be Cicero! Cicero doesn't want to be the one his Listener doesn't like… doesn't love. Cicero kept listening, anyway. Eavesdropping, he corrected himself, inching closer. He could see the Listener sitting cross-legged by the Night Mother's open coffin. "But Cicero…" the Listener's voice trailed softly, sweetly. Cicero felt his hopes and heart soar. Oh! THANK you, Unholy Night Mother and Dread Father Sithis! Dear Alysa was ranting and raving about Aventus! "Cicero is an entirely different matter. In fact, I think I –"
I could hear the smile in her voice. He couldn't hold his excitement anymore. "Listener! It's you! It's the Listener!" Cicero squeals, jumping forwards and bounding to his honorable Listener. "Cicero thought he was imagining things – voices – again, but when Cicero came to see, he saw the Listener!" he babbled. Cicero knows he's babbling, and the Listener looks wary. Cicero beams at her.
"How long have you been there?" she asked, twisting to look at the dear Fool of Hearts.
"Well, Cicero came as soon as he heard muttering, and when he saw you sitting here, he said hello! Well, not 'hello'; after all, Cicero called you the 'Listener', which is what you are and–" Cicero stopped, watching his Listener, his dear Alysa, grin. She still hadn't stood, and was still twisted to look at Cicero. So pretty… so strong, too. Difficult to teach but a fast learner once she stopped over-thinking. Cicero loved that about his Listener. Among various other things…. "Cicero?" she asked.
Cicero swallowed. "Yes, Listener?"
She scoffed quietly. "You really don't need to call me 'Listener' when no-one else is around," she hesitated. Cicero wondered at it. "I'd prefer it if you called me Alysa."
Cicero blinked. Had he heard right? She had spoken so softly…. "Alysa?" She looked back at Cicero. "Must Cicero - I - call you Alysa?"
She took a deep breath. "Yes. I'd like you to call me by my name." She smiled.
Cicero beamed back. "Then Cicero shall call you Alysa!" he skipped closer, sitting down next to Alysa. "What does our Mother say?"
"She hasn't said much to me now, but I can feel her presence when I speak to her. It's strangely comforting to feel," she looked up at our dear Night Mother. "A little disconcerting, and cold, but comforting."

Cicero looked up at the Night Mother, then at Alysa's profile. So perfect, so perfect…. A few strands of her hair fell between Cicero and Alysa, and Cicero wanted to brush it away.

I could feel Cicero staring at me. I was trying hard to ignore his steel-grey gaze, but the lightness in my stomach was proof of his effect on me. I wondered if he noticed. When my loose hair fell between us, I felt a little relieved to be protected from his piercing gaze – though I also wished for it.

Cicero shifted next to me, and a few moments later gloved fingers gently brushed my hair away, tucking it behind my ear. I turned to look at Cicero, seeing the same surprise in his eyes as I was sure was also in mine. His fingers trailed lightly along my jaw, and I couldn't think of anything else – just his touch, his eyes, how close he was to me…. We stared at each other for a few seconds, but a crash from the training room and Arnbjorn's loud swearing and a younger man's cry had both of us on our feet, immediately alert.

I turned to look for Cicero when I saw he had closed the Night Mother's coffin. He was silent and fast. I admired that about the jester; the skills he still had. I licked my lips and turned to the door, stalking out with Cicero taking the rear, a soft hiss of a dagger sliding out of its sheath the only sound he made.

A lone howl turning to deep growling met our ears at the training area – a few tables had been overturned and smashed, along with a few of the dummies. Aventus was pinned to the floor under one of Arnbjorn's massive mealy-white werewolf paws, pale and lying dead still aside from a few involuntary shivers as our resident wolf growled in the young Imperial's face. I could only imagine what that must've smelt like. I sniggered despite myself, immediately sobering and slapping a hand over my mouth when Arnbjorn's wolfish attention turned to me.

I didn't have a weapon, and I wasn't wearing armor, and Arnbjorn was furious about something – murderous, if he had phased into a wolf. And there were only two things that got him this angry: something about Astrid, or something about this Sanctuary. A hand tugged at my arm, pulling my backwards.

I stumbled, surprised as Cicero's motley-covered form moved in front of me, dagger in his left hand. "Cicero, wait," I breathed.
Babette was standing in the shadows, ready to dart out and pull our younger brother from immediate harm's way, given the chance. Her red eyes glowed a little as she concentrated. Astrid stormed in, followed hotly by Festus, Gabriella and Nazir, the last two chuckling silently at the spectacle. Festus cleared his throat, calmly striding forwards as magic glowed around his hands. Arnbjorn snarled at snapped at him, ignoring his pinned prey for the challenge that presented itself. "Really, pup, you should learn to control yourself better," the old Breton chided, his magic glowing a brighter green.

Arnbjorn pounced.

Festus didn't flinch, throwing his magic at the werewolf.

Arnbjorn crashed to the ground, paralyzed as Festus immediately used his magicka to cast a calming spell. It must've been one he had developed specifically for werewolves, because Arnbjorn immediately started phasing back into a Nord man. I looked over at where Aventus had been, and saw him safe on the other side of the Sanctuary with Babette, still watching warily as she held onto Aventus's arm. Astrid was grumbling angrily about the damage and werewolves as she grabbed a cloth from somewhere and threw it at a very naked Arnbjorn.
"Get dressed," she snapped, storming past everyone to her chambers.

I tried hard to bite back the giggles that threatened to break out. They came out anyway as a strangled chortle. Cicero gave me a funny look, and I lost it. I sniggered openly, and Nazir's deep rumble soon joined me. Babette only grinned, slightly sleepy, and our younger brother Aventus only looked more upset and embarrassed. Arnbjorn seemed too relaxed to catch the humor, barely getting the cloth around his waist as he grinned merrily, humming some happy tune as he strolled to his shared room with Astrid. She probably wouldn't let him in, and only just throw out some clothes while she worked out what needed replacing, and how much it would cost. I loosed Cicero's fingers on my arm, lightly brushing past him down the stairs.

"So, Aventus," I called, smirking gleefully at him. "What did you do to our werewolf that he lost it so much he phased?"
"Foolish boy probably doesn't even realize what he did," Festus grumbled, scowling off to his spell-making altar. Aventus blushed furiously, and Babette poked his ribs, grinning. Then she yawned.
"To bed for me. I'm up too late," she declared, walking to her stone slab. "Again," she added as an afterthought.
"Ah, yes: Gabriella, your contract is in Whiterun. Someone wants one of Kynareth's priests dead," Nazir interjected, turning to Gabriella with an innocent expression. "Now, if that isn't divine intervention, then I don't know what is."

The few of us still around sniggered, and even Aventus managed a nervous, twitchy smile. The Redguard and Dunmer walked off to the dining room to discuss the contract further. "Let's train," I called to Aventus and Cicero.
The Keeper's face lit up, and Aventus looked crestfallen. "Yes, Listener," they chorused, one bright and madly cheerful, the other definitely defeated.

I grinned. I'd bet Aventus had mentioned something about Astrid to get Arnbjorn all worked up like that, and it would be my pleasure to embarrass him even more with a lovely training session with Cicero. I glanced back at the Keeper, offering a smile which he returned.

I felt humbled that he had tried to protect me: few people had ever done that for me.