Chapter 6: Horseplay
The icy ocean mist encrusted the lens of Tressa's mask as soon as she opened the Sanctuary door.
Damn Dawnstar.
Sure, a nearly uninhabitably cold coast, in the middle of nowhere, in an already nowhere country, probably was the most ideal place to secret a secret Sanctuary…but damn did she miss Falkreath's more timid climate.
She regretted ever begrudging the mud.
She swiped away the ice and was thankful Cicero wasn't immediately in her field of vision, jump scaring her for the hundredth time, to prove a point about her often obstructed view.
Even when she expects him though, he still manages to startle her.
However, he wasn't there to torment her this time.
He, instead, was closer to the cold beach, leaned back against a rock as he stared up at the pinkish glow of the dawning sun persisting through the icy mist. A slow tune whistled from his lips.
He either heard the Sanctuary door open or sensed the added presence, as his eyes quickly fell upon Tressa.
"Oh!" he snapped to attention, "You've finally come out! Cicero has missed you terribly so. It's been such a long, cruel absence without you."
"Ha. Ha-ha. Ha," Tressa slowly and sarcastically laughed.
She approached and looked about a moment before asking, "…Where's Kor?"
Swear to Sithis, if Cicero's already gutted the boy and stashed him behind that rock…
Cicero motioned with his thumb to beyond the outcrop of rock that blocked their Sanctuary, towards the town of Dawnstar.
"Cicero sent him to get a horse of his own," the jester said.
"Of his own?" Tressa repeated, "Oh come on, Cicero, he can at least ride in the cart with—"
"Summon Shadowmere."
"Nooo."
"Yes, my Listener," Cicero responded, his tone demanding.
He folded his arms and turned to her fully, "You need to learn how to ride a horse. The sneaky cutty killer of a Listener can't keep relying on public carts with her line of work, you know."
Tressa folded her arms the same as the jester and the jester seemed to know she was pouting like a child under that mask.
"No worries, littler one," he said with a cheeky smile and patted the top of her head, "Cicero will teach you without ridicule."
She frantically swatted at his patting hand.
"Oh, do not start our day like this," she blew with irritation.
The merryman chuckled, but his face soon fell to that unmerry seriousness of his and he said once again, "Summon Shadowmere".
Tressa stood stubborn for a moment, but finally relented.
"Fine," she grumbled, "But you need to come off this habit of bossing ME around. You're not my real mother…"
She concentrated, remembering the whispers that echo loud in the nothingness, and she called upon that supernatural beast, awakening it from its rest in the void.
Tressa may be hesitant to ride this creature, but she did adore his dramatic entries.
His thundering hooves and his distant neigh could be heard drawing near as a dark cloud of smoke materialized from the very air.
Within a moment, the steed burst through the very fabric of the realms and stood magnificently proud in front of the two children of Sithis. Shadowmere, the Dark Horse.
Cicero was quick to greet the steed with a gentle patting on his neck.
"Hello, beautiful. Sleep well?" he asked. The Dark horse neighed softly and lowered his head to allow Cicero to pet his snout.
Tressa reached over and petted awkwardly along the side of Shadowmere's face, under his eye.
Even through her covered guise, her caution bled through.
Cicero suddenly grabbed her by the wrist.
"Don't be so scared, oh great and powerful Listener," he said and guided her to pet the horse gently from between the eyes to the tip of the nose. "Shadowmere likes you."
"Yeah, I know," Tressa replied, "But he likes you better."
"Oh, fah, Listener. Come on now," the jester jested, "No one likes Cicero better."
"I like you better than anyone on the list of people I like," Tressa responded, "It's a short list, but you're at the top."
Cicero reeled back and put a hand to his heart.
"Don't make Cicero cry in front of the horse," he said, as if touched by the statement, but his taken expression fell flat in an instant, "Flattery isn't going to get you out of this lesson."
Tressa tossed her head back with a huff.
"Yeah, yeah," the girl said, "I'm going to be the one crying in front of the horse…"
"Well," Cicero chirped, "good thing for the mask then."
He thumped her directly on the nose, or where it should be.
Tressa stumbled back and clasped her hands to the mask.
"Hey!" she exclaimed, "It's not so thick that I didn't feel that!"
"Oopsie," the jester shrugged with a chuckle.
Their attention drew to Kor, who finally reappeared from his fetching of a horse, with said horse in tow.
Tressa and Cicero both did a small snort.
There the two of them were, with their enormous equine beast from the darkest nether…and there was this enormous Nord…with the prettiest palomino mare.
For some reason, the image just tickled them. Though, at least the color schemes matched riders to their respective horses.
The black and red of Tressa and Cicero's attire with the black of Shadowmere's coat and the red eerie glow of his eyes.
The golden hair of the Nord stood proudly next to the golden coat of the mare.
Though Kor's bluish top contrasted with not only the coat, but the bright red of the snowberries laced prettily within the horse's braided white mane and tail. But it didn't clash.
The Nord looked unashamed at the snorts of the two troublemakers.
"What?" Kor said, "She's gorgeous."
The duo nodded and Cicero replied, "That she is. Cicero finds her quite… adorable. I do believe he can say the Listener thinks so as well, it's just…"
Kor held a hand up to halt him.
"It's just what?" he retorted, "What exactly about me says I'd be embarrassed by the company of such a beaut?"
Tressa shrugged.
"Not sure," she said, "but you did once talk of saddling one of these dragons, one of the 'scaled beasts of sky and time, their tongue laced with the elements and wings aloft with the leather of man's blood'…If you squish the berries in her mane, maybe she'll look fresh of man's blood too…"
Kor grinned but shook his head with something akin of disappointment.
"You realize," he said, "that people can like dogs…and cats, right? I figured you of all people would be more open minded."
Tressa let out that snort again.
"And what makes you think that?" she shot back and gestured to her entirety, "I'm a closed book."
Kor's grin grew wider and he gave a wink.
"Never judge a book by its cover."
"You can this one," Tressa replied and her lens followed Cicero as he moved towards the mare.
Kor looked ready to tug the horse aside, unsure of the jester's quiet approach, but Cicero finally cooed and petted the mare's snout.
Shadowmere gave an uninterested blow of his nose and turned his attention elsewhere. Tressa wasn't an expert in animal language, but she knew jealousy when she heard it..
"Anyway," Kor cleared his throat, "…Her name is Snowberry."
"Aaah?" Cicero quipped sarcastically as he lightly thumped one of those said berries intertwined in the braids, "Cicero would have never thought that."
"Ha, yes," the Nord tossed his head, "We going?...Wait, are you two going to share that horse?"
"Yes," the jester nodded, "If the Listener is taking opportunities on this quest, then Cicero is taking one as well. He's teaching her how to finally reign a ride."
Kor looked to Tressa, who almost seemed to be trying to scoot behind Shadowmere and out of the Nord's view.
"You don't know how to ride a horse?" Kor asked.
The Listener stepped back out into view with a stomp of her foot.
"I've ridden plenty of times!" she snapped, "These beasts are just hard to stay on! I don't think they are meant for small persons!"
Cicero mumbled, "Cicero is small and does just fine."
It did nothing but produce an angry growl from the girl.
Kor, at least, made an effort not to laugh at her, though his inward lips and his shaking chest read he was barring a laugh from bubbling out.
He spoke as soon as he was confident the shake was off his breath.
"Tres, uh, Listener," he said, "being small is actually better for the horse. Not much weight to stress their back, and in turn, they'll be less likely to resist or throw you…so long as they don't think you're a little rat on their back, I guess…"
Tressa folded her arms with heated enthusiasm.
"WELL, I guess it's just ME then!" she barked, "I'M the problem of the horse problem."
Cicero and Kor both nodded at that statement.
The jester even cheekily bobbed the mare's head up and down to make even the horse nod, but once noticing he and Kor were in agreement once again, the clown made the horse vehemently shake her head instead.
He released Snowberry from this puppetry and walked away from Kor and that mare to approach Tressa.
The jester patted her on the shoulder and gave her a sympathetic but encouraging smile.
"There, there, my Listener," he said, "You'll have it down pat in no time at all...Now. Up, up."
He motioned for her to climb up onto Shadowmere's saddle.
Tressa was hesitant.
"Go on. Hop up," Cicero waved upward with his hand again, "Shadowmere won't mind."
Tressa stood firm.
"Oh, I know," she said, "He was more than ready to let me hop up the first day I summoned him, but…I overshot the saddle. Nearly broke my elbow…and hip…And I'm pretty sure he laughed at me in his horse tongue…"
Cicero rolled his eyes and shook his head. He made a stance for Tressa to step up on his hands so he could lift her up to the saddle.
Tressa was, on the other hand, bound to test his patience.
The jester frowned.
His jolly attitude was well known to flip and flop.
It flipped into the flop.
"Get up there before Cicero throws you up there," he warned.
Tressa put her hands to her hips.
"Whoa now," she said, "Are you threatening me, Keeper?"
Cicero did not back down nor did he move from his stance.
"Yes, Listener," he responded and boldly continued, "It's no idle threat, either. It's not against any tenets to toss you, so stop stalling and get on the damn horse already, …my Listener."
Tressa's scoff could be heard under her mask and she stood firm… until the moment Cicero made even the slightest of movement.
Upon such, she flung her arms down in agitation and walked towards him.
"Sithis, spare me," she conceded, "Fine. Okay. Help me up on the horse then."
The jester's smile returned; albeit, he added a bit of a smug flair to the upturn of his lips, for his victory of wills.
He readied his stance again and helped Tressa up to the saddle.
Once upon the large seat, she adjusted a bit and nervously gripped the reigns of Shadowmere's bridle.
Tressa's lens looked down at the jester, who was looking at her and the horse, his smug smile turned into a strange one.
A mischievous one.
Reading this mischievous smile, Tressa shook her head adamantly.
"Don't you dare!" she snapped.
Cicero tried to look surprised, but his grin bled through.
"What?" he snickered, "Cicero isn't doing any—"
"You were thinking about popping Shadowmere's rump, weren't you?!" Tressa accused, "To get him to run!"
The jester put his hands behind himself innocently.
"Cicero would never be so cruel!" he replied, with what sounded earnestly, although he was still smiling, "You'd fall right off!"
"Don't lie!" Tressa spat.
Cicero cracked a chuckle and waved his hands at that.
"Oh, alright…," he admitted, "Okay. Cicero was thinking about it in jest, yes, but he wasn't actually going to do it."
Tressa shook her head and a small growl of frustration rumbled under her mask. She seemed to be about to say something or scold the jester, when she unintentionally pulled the reigns instead.
Whatever she was going to say turned into a frightened yelp as the horse began to trot backwards…
"Cicero, get up here!" Tressa spat quickly.
The jester caught his laugh before it got too mockingly gleeful, and he grabbed ahold of Shadowmere's bridle to halt him.
Once the horse stood still, Cicero quite smoothly did a hoisting jump and slid right on behind Tressa.
"Show off," the girl muttered and Cicero patted her bicep.
"You will too," he assured.
He got to work with the lesson and put his arms under hers to correct her hold on the reigns.
He also knocked her legs a bit with his boots to get her to stop squeezing Shadowmere's sides so tightly.
"Loosen up, Listener," he said, "Cicero promises he won't let you fall."
The Listener actually whined, but she did loosen up.
However, she tensed once again when Cicero made his next comment.
"Why, Listener! You're shaking!" he exclaimed.
"Shut up!" Tressa ordered, embarrassment evident her voice, "You said no ridicule!"
"It's not ridicule, my Listener," Cicero replied, "Promise. Merely a comment. Cicero didn't expect you to be this anxious."
The jester noticed Kor weakly holding in a laugh, and the Nord seemed ready to unleash it, but the clown gave him a very strong glare and shook his head to warn him against it.
Cicero had made a promise to not disrespect the Listener with this riding lesson; he'd be damned to let the Nord brat do it.
That anxious Listener let out a breath.
"Can we go now?" Tressa asked impatiently.
She added an attempt to lighten it up, "…Enough horseplay?"
Cicero's attention snapped back to her and he gave a little laugh at her joke.
"Ha, of course, my Listener," he said, "We go whenever you--Oh! Wait! Not yet! The bag!"
He spun himself and leapt off the horse.
Tressa turned rigid and remained absolutely still, as to not accidentally do anything at all with the reigns again.
While Cicero retrieved their main supply bag to strap to Shadowmere, Tressa very carefully looked over towards Kor and saw the Nord looking at her with a smile and shake of his head.
Great.
Kor was here to prove himself, yet here she was before they even clop off, proving herself to be so experienced…
Once Cicero was done hooking on the bag, he once again hoisted himself up with ease, sliding in behind Tressa in one seemingly fluid motion.
He reached around her once more and corrected her hold on the reigns again.
Great.
Already not learning.
Tressa hoped the Nord wasn't making such observations.
She didn't want his guessing at what's under the mask to turn into answers of inadequacies.
Kor, however, shook his head silently again and saddled atop Snowberry, all set to follow.
With everything seeming a go, Tressa let out a sigh and gave a determined toss of her head.
"Okay," she said, "Now?...Do I…snap the reigns?"
Cicero shook his head. "No. Unless you want us to head out at full gallop?"
"I'd rather not…"
"Then, give Shadowmere a gentle heel kick," he said.
Tressa semi-turned her head and with suspicion on her tongue she replied, "That seems rude…And like a set up…"
Cicero sighed.
He was trying not to lose his patience, what with all this hesitation and reluctance, so he simply did it himself and gave Shadowmere a small jab on the side.
The horse stamped and then began to trot forward at a slow pace.
Tressa noticeably tensed again, but she relaxed upon realizing the horse was only trotting.
Cicero gave him a couple more gentle jabs and clicked his tongue to bring Shadowmere up to a steadier trot.
He helped Tressa steer the horse around the outcrop, the girl's arms stiff as the dead. She would probably say her stiffness was the freeze of the perpetually icy weather, but all knew such a statement would be just one of her many masks.
Kor trotted behind with Snowberry and followed them through the main street of Dawnstar.
The denizens of which no longer held their suspicions of these Dark characters, or at least waived their suspicions, after Tressa took care of their nightmare problem.
It made shopping there and treading through so much easier…
Abelone, the pretty Nord maid of the Windpeak Inn, stood on its porch and waved politely at them as they passed by, as if they were close knit neighbors.
She gave Kor a rather more direct wave, leading Tressa to suspect a bit of closer knitting there…
Once the trio journeyed through and were on the main road out, they picked up the pace just a bit, but Cicero kept Shadowmere at a steady canter—and even that the jester could tell was making Tressa uneasy.
It was so very tempting to break into gallop and watch the amusement of Tressa's panic unfold, but Cicero was bound to his promise, and no amount of deafening laughter in his head would drown out his word once given.
He did, though, see a fork in the road ahead and let go of the reigns to let Tressa steer them herself.
"Cicero is sure you can handle this," he commented, "Utmost confident I am in your abilities, my Listener."
"Thank you for your confidence," Tressa remarked flatly, "You ready to bust your shoulder on the fall that's coming?"
"Pah, Cicero won't fall," he replied, "And I won't let you either, as promised…But I must ask. How in all of Nirn did you give chase of me and the mangy Arnbjorn from Falkreath to Dawnstar, if you couldn't steer a simple fork in the road?"
A small chuckle muffled under Tressa's mask.
"My limping about that day wasn't from your traps," Tressa admitted, "Not mostly anyway…Let's just say I was the epitome of the phrase 'get back up on that horse'."
"Ouch…," Cicero mumbled.
They reached the fork in the road and Tressa smoothly turned Shadowmere to the path she wanted.
"Ah, and see!" Cicero cheered at her, "That hard headed determination of yours paid off!"
"...It was just a little fork in the road, Cicero," Tressa replied and sarcastically quipped, "…Congratulations to me. I have the skill of a colt striding five year old."
Cicero giggled.
"And next we will thread 'round a row of barrels! Six year olds be damned!" he merrily chirped.
Tressa merely shook her head.
A couple of hours of steady and smooth cantering later, they were passing the Dwemer ruins of Mzinchaleft.
Cicero, who had at some point put on a dark shawl with a mouth band for warmth, pulled down the mouth piece to vocally point out the ruins.
"Oh, Listener! Remember that place!" he asked with a bit of excitement.
"Yep. That contract we tackled there!" Tressa replied and her tone turned accusing , "And then someone got us lost in the big black beyond…"
"There was plenty of glowing lichens for light," Cicero quipped back, "You would have seen where you were going better if you'd have taken off that mask for once. Besides, I know you're really just mad about me dropping you into—"
"Into the cold dark water?!" Tressa snipped, "Yes! Forty feet off that bridge?! Yes!"
"And Cicero hopped after you! Yes!" Cicero snapped back, "I had to drop you! That Falmer would have shot its arrow clean through you, had I not! We were in quite the predicament, in case you forgot!"
Tressa kept up her arguing.
"That water could have been two feet deep, for all you knew!"
"But it wasn't, was it?!"
"But it could have been!"
"But. It. Wasn't!"
"But if it had been?!"
"Then I suppose the Listener wouldn't be here for Cicero to have to listen to the Listener's incessant whining right now!"
"Hurtful!"
Kor had been trotting just behind them, blandly listening to their chattering and squabbling, but he finally spoke up.
"Wait, you've been in Blackreach?" he asked as he brought his horse along side theirs, "The Blackreach? Aphid and I once plundered our way into those dep—"
Tressa interrupted with no attention for his tale.
"Blackreach?" she repeated, "Is that what it's called? Might as well be called toss-your-friend-out-of-reach…"
Cicero grumbled.
"Should be lack reach if it's like that attempt at a joke...," he said.
"Did you just--"
"Make a far better joke than you? Of course Cicero did! I drop Listeners, not the ball."
Kor shook his head and kept quiet as he made no further progress in trying to interject the other two's bickering. He quietly wondered just how low his maturity had been, if these two were the proving standard.
He kept his mouth shut and hung back as they furthered more down the path, heading westward, until it came to a T.
Here was a moment for Tressa to prove herself again, something more engaging than a little fork in the road.
Cicero assumed Tressa was going to turn them left to head towards Morthal, but instead…
She made no attempt to steer Shadowmere into a turn and they headed straight through crosspath and off the road.
"Listener…?" Cicero asked, "Did you… freeze up?…It's alright. You give a little pull to this part of the reign--"
"Nope, I meant to do this," Tressa answered and elbowed his help away.
Cicero wasn't sure if she was being sarcastic or not.
"Cicero isn't poking fun…," he said, " I promise—"
"Nope," Tressa said, "Really, I did. I know where I'm going and it's not Morthal."
"Um…alright then," the jester replied. He was clearly unsure of her sureness though.
Tressa looked back around him and noticed Kor had halted at the T in the roads. He probably assumed she hadn't meant this off roading bit either.
"Kor, come on!" she hollered back, "Into the woods, my boy!"
He began to follow, and Tressa was just about to turn her attention back around, but she had not noticed Cicero had stretched up to look over her. Something caught his attention.
It was too late when she heard his small gasp, and in that instant, Shadowmere suddenly reared up in a fury.
The jolting up of the horse caused Tressa to nearly slip right off in this compromised position, but Cicero quickly grabbed her, wrapped an arm around her, and held Shadowmere's reign with his free hand.
"Easy, Shadowmere!" Cicero called, "Easy, easy!"
He gently tugged the reign and softened his voice to reel the horse out of his frenzied stamping and rearing.
Tressa, however, nearly whimpered.
"Please stop, boy," she clutched his mane, "I do not want to expel in this mask…"
Shadowmere wound down for a moment, with an agitated blow of his nose and a stamp of his hoof at the fox that skittered and slinked out of the tree line.
"Oh," Cicero panted, "…A fox? A little fox? Cicero swore he saw something bigg—"
The jester and Tressa both yelped in absolute fright as a large frost troll had somehow managed to sneak its way among the trees and burst out after the fox.
Its three eyes suddenly locked on to them instead…
It pounded its large fists against the ground in excitement, or agitation, or both, and it charged their way; its apelike gait digging up earth in its rush towards them.
Shadowmere again raised up in a fury, bravely readied to meet the charge, but his rearing up nearly caused Cicero to lose his grip on the horse and Tressa.
The jester managed to keep hold of both, but this certainly was not a position one would want to be in as a frost troll closed in. If there was any such position anyone would want to be in around those forces of muscle and unbridled hunger.
"A damned troll?!" Tressa fussed, "Oh, I hate them! Shadowmere, you doof, let us handle it!"
Tressa uttered an incantation and conjured up a quick firebolt, tossing it around Shadowmere's neck.
It miraculously nailed the troll directly in the face, despite the awkward aim, and Shadowmere jolted towards the beast.
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!" Tressa and Cicero both frantically shouted at the horse's brazen offense.
The troll shrieked, its face still sizzling from that fiery hit, and it wildly flung about. It narrowly missed clawing Shadowmere across the neck as the horse reared up again, and then the troll would have almost gutted the horse too, if Shadowmere hadn't clogged it right on the skull with his heavy hoof.
That hoof connected directly with the troll's third eye, rupturing it and surely cracking a good deal of the skull with it.
Another monstrous shriek escaped the troll, and it desperately turned away.
Back into the tree line it went, running awkwardly and compromised, colliding into each tree as it went.
Shadowmere seemed content with his victory as he scrapped the ground with his hoof and let out a snort, but Tressa was the one too riled now to end this.
"Oh, uh-uh!" Tressa hissed, "Shadowmere, after him!"
She yanked the reigns from Cicero who had only just grabbed them himself.
"Listener, no, wait!" the jester tried to warn her, but she snapped, twisted, kicked, everything she thought for go, and sent them off in chase.
Shadowmere bounded off and around the trees hazardously in pursuit of the troll.
"Oh, damn!" Tressa realized her error, letting go of the reigns to grip both Cicero's arm around her and Shadowmere's mane, "Bad idea!"
"Yes, bad idea! VERY BAD!" Cicero barked angrily as he held her and Shadowmere's mane too as best he could, for he couldn't feel for those reigns at the moment.
"Stop him, please!" Tressa yipped, "Shadowmere! Stop!"
"I can't stop him while my hands are busy keeping us a saddle!" Cicero shouted, "Where are the reigns?!"
Tressa quickly braved letting go of Cicero's arm and the mane long enough to grab the reigns. Cicero snatched them in a quick move.
"Halt! Shadowmere! Whoa!" he yanked back. The jarring action caused the horse to rear once again, but Cicero worked him down from the sudden halt with more control and a steadier voice. Finally, the horse simmered from his bucking and obtained his wits again.
Something the two riders were trying to do themselves.
Gathering what wits the sudden forest stroll left them with, they realized they had come into an icy, swampish area.
It was far more open, but the footing could prove just as hazardous as whipping branches and hard tree trunks.
Tressa and Cicero caught sight of the troll still in retreat and sloshing through the icy waters a bit ahead.
"Go. Kill it," Cicero spoke with agitation and forced Tressa to slide down off the horse, "Cicero needs a minute before we have a word about all this. Look! Cicero's hat is gone! BAD. BAD LISTENER!"
Tressa was unbalanced for a moment when she touched ground, and whether she wanted to smart something back to him or not couldn't be seen on her mask, but she caught her footing and stomped after the troll, the only speaking she spoke being grumbled incantations.
Cicero's stern eyes followed her for a moment before his focus shifted all around, trying to spot his jester's cap. He spun around backwards on the horse to eye the traveled path.
His eye caught Kor finally following their unintended path carefully with Snowberry. The jester gave the Nord an annoyed expression.
"Well, look at you," Cicero commented snidely, "Proving just how useful you are, hm?"
Kor's expression turned guilty and he seemed to earnestly reply.
"I'm sorry. Really. All that happened so fast, I…Where's your hat? Unnerving. You look too different without it."
"WHAT DO YOU THINK HAPPENED TO IT?!" Cicero snapped. He leapt from Shadowmere's rump and frantically turned his gaze all about again, desperately trying to spot his precious cap.
Kor took notice that the jester's smaller protégé wasn't seated on the horse anymore.
"Where's Tressa?" the Nord asked, but the loud fiery blast and the dying roar of the troll answered it for him.
Tressa stomped back towards the men with a shake of her boots here and there along the way, having evidently sloshed a bit in the icy marsh herself.
Cicero glared at her return and he held up a warning finger.
"Don't step too close," he said, "Cicero is still too angry."
Tressa held her hands up defensively and she clasped them together in a stance of apology, although her tone was not sincere.
"I'm sorry," she said, "Clearly, I am not ready for the barrel races. I'm sorry…I'm sorry. I am sorry. I'm sorry. Sorry I am. Sorry. How many times are we looking at me saying it before you forgive me?"
Cicero folded his arms with a hmph.
"Perhaps Cicero will forgive you when he finds his hat," he replied, "Which is to be a thousand years!"
Tressa turned her head only slightly, and with what sounded like a scoff under her mask, she pointed.
"There. I see it. Forgive me?"
Cicero tilted his head, and he and Kor both looked to where she pointed. They saw the jester's cap floating out towards the middle of one of the many icy water holes scattered around.
Cicero frowned and looked back at the Listener.
"How could you see…Nevermind. Once Cicero plucks it out, then forgiveness."
The hatless jester started his storm off, but Kor spoke up.
"Hey, one moment," the Nord said as he slid down off Snowberry.
Cicero ignored him and had already sank his boot into the cold water, ready to wade right into it.
The jester didn't look comfortable at all, but he sank his other boot right in and started treading.
He heard Kor approaching behind him.
"Not now," Cicero hissed at the Nord, "Cicero would like to get his hat before who-knows-what snatches it in this dreary bog."
Cicero had just begun to wade further out when Kor suddenly lifted the smaller man from the water, as if Cicero was merely a child, and he set him afoot on the ground.
"Wha-!" Cicero nearly yelped, but he regained his anger quickly and snapped at Kor, "Don't ever pick Cicero up like that again!"
Kor stepped back and held his hands up.
"Calm down," Kor said, "I might can lift you like a sack of flour, but I'm certain you can gut me before I could ever do it in a fight...All I was going to suggest was to let the Nord go into the icy waters. You know…prove my worth?"
Cicero still seemed quite upset with him, his expression a mix between perturbed and pouting, but he nodded.
"Fine," he conceded and ordered, "Fetch my hat, water dog. Let the icy grip clasp your unfortunately unneutered specimen. Howl an octave higher for us."
Kor blew a breath from his nose and smirked.
"Nord boys aren't afraid of a little cool weather," he said with pride, "And that's especially true for me, even for a Nord. You've noticed I've no need for a shawl? Or even sleeves?"
Cicero waved his hand dismissively.
"Cicero doesn't care what brisk weather it takes to shrivel a Nord's snowballs. Just get my hat."
Kor rolled his eyes and sighed, but he slid his boots off and stepped into the water.
He gave no reaction whatsoever, not even when wading up to his middle. Not so much as even one tiny shiver.
Kor didn't look back, but he smiled broadly upon hearing Cicero's grumbling hmph.
Tressa came over and stood next to Cicero as they watched the Nord wade his way to the hat. Perhaps it was a good idea to send him after all, as the other two's shorter statures would have had them practically swimming for it.
"Forgive me yet?" Tressa jabbed at the jester with her elbow.
"As soon as I get my hat," he replied, unbothered by her jabs but still a rather serious look upon his face.
Kor was close enough to grab that cap now, and he had begun to reach out, only for a claw to suddenly reach up from underneath and snatch it down into the dark beneath.
Everyone startled at the sudden thievery; Cicero most of all.
"NO!" he shrieked, "NOOO! Get it! GET IT BACK!"
The jester's fiery gaze seared back on to Tressa.
"Cicero will never forgive you!"
"I didn't do that!" Tressa seethed back with an angry squeak and a stomp of her foot.
Kor wasted no time and dove underneath the water. He emerged moments later with the large mudcrab that held Cicero's cap in its claw.
The Nord ripped the entire clawed limb from the creature and tossed it to the jester, hat and all.
The relieved merry man caught it and immediately worked on prying the clenched pincer from his precious cap.
The hat came loose and the jester plopped the wet hat atop his head with a happy sigh, despite the cold splat of the cap.
He looked to Tressa.
"You're forgiven," he nodded as the water trickled down his face like happy tears.
Tressa shook her head at the sight, before they both caught sight of the rest of the large mudcrab being tossed their way.
They stepped back as it thudded upside down on the soggy ground; its weight sinking it slightly. There was a hole in its underbelly where Kor had punched it through to end its hat snatching days for good.
The Nord sloshed out of the water behind it. He was sogging wet from head to toe, but he still did not give even a shiver.
He did; however, make a suggestion.
"So, um, Tress—Miss Listen—Listener?" he asked, "I know our mission hasn't even quite started yet, but could we take a little break, maybe? Snack upon this thief? It's probably best I at least change out of these clothes. Don't think Snowberry will appreciate a cold, soppy wet pile of Nord on her back."
Tressa nodded.
"Yes, we can. Actually, that's why I wanted to come this way—Horses could use a breather."
Cicero eyed her skeptically.
"You wanted to come out…here?" he said more than asked, "There's nothing here...Except cap stealing mudcrabs."
"Yeah, and the perfect place to—"
Cicero cut her off when he grabbed her arm and pulled her closer so he could whisper, hopefully out of Kor's sense of hearing, "You didn't mean to go off path at all, did you?"
Tressa was silent for a moment, before finally replying, but she dodged answering his direct question, choosing instead to finish what she had already started to say.
"Aaaand the perfect place to rest our rumps."
She pointed outwards towards said place.
Off in the distance, settled in the fog of icy mist, was indeed a lonely shack.
"That's exactly the same shack Astrid took me to at the start of all this," the Listener explained, gesturing to her Dark Brotherhood attire, "…Well, where she dragged me unconscious to. Initiating me to the Brotherhood with the good ole do or die. I wonder if all the blood has stained the floors a lovely cherry…"
"Urgh, …Astrid," Cicero spoke with disgust before whispering again, "…admit your mistakes, Listener."
"Alright fine!" Tressa whispered back in a hiss, "I didn't mean to go off road! But what a coincidence, huh? I'm thinking symbolic. Or metaphorical? Whatever. Shack snack time. Let's go."
Cicero remained staring at her, almost looking as if he was second guessing whether he had enough insanity left in him to companion her antics any longer.
How was it he was becoming more reasonable while she became a manic hobgoblin?
"Come on, Cicero," Tressa motioned, "Free cabin. Nobody but mudcrabs to bother us. Besides, you need to dry your boots and hat as much as he needs to dry his…entirety, I suppose."
Kor flicked a bit of water from his own hand right into Cicero's face.
The jester jumped and darted a dangerous glare at the Nord before sighing and replying to Tressa.
"Alright, my Listener," he said, "Whatever you wish to do…But be sure the horses have somewhere dry to rest their hooves."
"Yes, teacher," the Listener replied with mocking obedience, "...Let's go set stuff on fire now."