Sanctuary
Nessa awoke feeling rested. She'd had such unsettled dreams and then, finally, she'd settled into a deep, dreamless sleep. Waking up had been like swimming to the surface of a lake after being submerged very deeply. She had forgotten everything if only for a few hours. Now, wiping the grit out of her eyes, it began to come back to her. There was no use trying to avoid what the day would bring her. It would seek her out no matter if she stayed in bed or met it head on. She got out of bed and wrapped a robe around herself, heading to the steamy grotto to wash herself.
After washing, she ate breakfast and then ventured into the common room. Babette was there and gave her a sullen look. Nessa flinched remembering how she'd thrown Babette out of her room the night before.
"I'm sorry I was so sharp with you yesterday. I was just tired," she said to the little vampire.
Babette shrugged. "Apology accepted, now why don't you collect some alchemy ingredients for me and we can craft some really nasty poison? I'd go but the sunlight isn't good for me."
It was the perfect excuse to get out of the Sanctuary and she could have kissed Babette for giving it to her. "Yes! I will go. My supplies are getting low too. Maybe I'll even check the shops in Falkreath." She went back to her room, collected her large gathering basket, changing into trousers and a shirt. She practically ran up the stairs, out of the cave, and into the fresh air outside.
For once the sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. She spent several hours scouring the countryside looking for mountain flowers, lavender, and thistle. The muddy banks of the river yielded a few rare nirnroot. When she finally returned to Sanctuary, she had to take another bath to wash off the mud.
Babette greeted her happily when she brought the loaded basket into the alchemy room and they started to work on creating potions. Babette preferred to make poisons, but Nessa like creating healing potions and other restoratives. They worked together happily, chatting and teasing one another until it was supper time, and then they carefully cleaned their hands and ate dinner together.
Nessa walked through the common room with Babette, back to the alchemy room, when she felt a large, familiar hand clasp her shoulder.
"Come with me, bit," Arnbjorn said, speaking quietly. There'd been far too much gossip already; he didn't need to broadcast the latest development to the entire guild.
Nessa whirled, her eyes large with alarm. "Is it… all right?"
Arnbjorn said nothing but turned and began to walk up the long hallway to Astrid's, and once his, room.
"Arnbjorn?" she asked, hoping for some indication.
He neither stopped nor spoke, he just continued up the hallway.
His silence made her more jumpy. Why won't he say anything?
Finally they stopped before Astrid's room and Arnbjorn stood aside. "Go in."
"You're not coming?" she asked, icy terror forming in her veins. What if Astrid means to kill me? Would Arnbjorn stand by the door and make sure she didn't escape? A dozen scenarios played through her mind, none of them pleasant. She wondered if, after their weeks together, Arnbjorn would lead her like a lamb to the slaughter.
"Go on." He opened the door and gave her a little push, then closed the door behind her.
Astrid was there, of course, sitting at her desk reading something. She put her pen down and looked at Nessa, who was still hanging back by the doorway, looking slightly terrified. "Oh, there you are, my dear," she said in a warm, friendly manner.
Nessa's throat constricted and words abandoned her. Astrid was so beautiful. Those weeks they'd spent together came back in a flood of memories. "Hi… Astrid," Nessa said, her voice sounding very small to herself. "You wanted to see me?"
The guild leader got up slowly from her desk and crossed the room. "Please, sit." She indicated a chair sitting in the center of the room.
Nessa hadn't ever seen that chair placed like that. It was well away from the wall, almost in the center of the room. It was a very strange place to put a chair. She stared at the chair a moment then sat obediently.
"Arnbjorn says you did well with your contracts but that you shouldn't be expected to use seduction. Did it trouble you?" Astrid sat on a chair across from her.
Studying her body language Nessa realized that Astrid wasn't being hostile. Her voice was warm and friendly. She seemed relaxed and there was even a small smile on her face.
"I… It was difficult. I thought the man might recognize me."
"Well, perhaps Arnbjorn is right. It isn't for everyone. It does seem that you and Arnbjorn got to know another quite well on this trip." She smiled and stood, then began to pace. "Quite well." She crossed behind Nessa's chair and continued to pace.
Nessa wanted to turn in her chair and follow her with her eyes, but she was afraid to. "Yes, ma'am," she said. She could feel a blush burning its way up her throat to her cheeks.
Astrid walked around to the front of the chair and looked closely at Nessa's face. "Oh, that's so sweet. I haven't seen you blush like that since before you left. I always knew when you blushed like that I was going to hear some sweet sighs a short time later. Now here you are, blushing again, only this time I think those blushes are for my husband."
"No. I mean… " Nessa trailed off, realizing it was pointless to deny it. After all, hadn't it been for this very reason that they'd slept together? "They are for you still, Astrid," she whispered.
She'd caught the older woman by surprise. She'd expected denials and deception, not this. Astrid walked behind the chair and paused, closing her eyes and trying to make sense of her feelings. Her anger surged. She hated feeling this vulnerable and confused. "You fucked my husband," she said, stating it flat out, her voice losing its warmth.
"Yes," Ness said softly. "We thought…"
"He told me," she said, cutting her off. "It was his genius plan to get me back." She laughed and put her hand on Nessa's neck where it met her shoulder. She swept her fingers across the base of the girl's neck, reacquainting herself with how soft her skin was. "He's mine." Her fingers softly wrapped around her neck, as if she were going to throttle her.
The menace implied in the positioning of her fingers wasn't lost on Nessa. "I know. He said so from the beginning."
There was another reason for Astrid's hands to be situated around her neck, it was useful to keep track of signs that the girl was lying. Her senses were a vampire's; she could feel when the heart sped or skin temperature changed. So far, she was telling the truth.
"Do you love him?" she asked Nessa. There was a telltale increase in her heart rate and her skin grew warmer. She didn't need to hear the answer.
"I… I don't know," Nessa said. Her head was spinning. Having Astrid this close to her, touching her again… Everything came back: memories of those days they'd spent together, her touch, her kisses. The despair she had felt at Astrid's rejection crashed down on her again. "I just knew that I would have done anything to get you back, Astrid. What Arnbjorn suggested seemed like the only way."
Astrid felt the girl's throat move as she swallowed nervously. She removed her hand from her neck, suddenly unsure if she wanted to know the truth. "Do you still love me, Nessa?"
Nessa paused. So much had changed in the last six weeks, but she had forgotten nothing. There was still a residual enthrallment that made her desire even these caresses imbued with menace. I don't know, was perhaps a truer answer, but could such longings as Nessa felt once again be anything but love? Yet, if she looked deeper within for an answer, would her answer be rouged by the feelings she also had for Arnbjorn? It was a depth of analysis that threatened to paralyze her vocal cords and Astrid wanted an answer.
"I do," she said. It struck her that those were the same words that Astrid and Arnbjorn had probably uttered to seal their vows to one another. As she spoke the words she felt as if she were taking a vow as well.
For Astrid, being this close to Nessa again was sweet torment. The girl's blood still called her, though the song was fainter now, easier to resist. She walked behind her again, sensing how badly Nessa wanted to turn and watch her but didn't. She bent down next to Nessa's ear. "He's mine. Never forget that," she hissed, quietly. Then her hand tilted the younger woman's head back. "And so are you."
Nessa's breath caught in her chest. Something softened in Astrid's eyes and her lips descended onto her own. She shut her eyes and let it all wash over her.
Astrid tugged on her chin, getting her to rise out of the chair as they continued to kiss. She knocked the chair over carelessly and then she heard the door open.
Arnbjorn had been waiting. He knew the moment would come to either rescue Nessa or, as he had hoped, to find her like this, in his wife's arms. He'd been telling himself it didn't matter. Astrid could reject Nessa and he would be fine with that, just so long as he got his wife back, but he felt a distinct wave of relief when he opened the door and saw them kissing. He was sensitive to how tenuous this was. Astrid had to feel in charge and the center of this, otherwise it would fly apart, most likely explosively. Nessa, he knew, was smart enough to realize that. He quietly shut the door and stood behind his wife, wrapping his arm around her waist and kissing her neck. One hand, just one, reached for Nessa's back to draw the three of them closer together.
His wife's hands began unfastening the row of buttons on Nessa's dress and so he started to work on Astrid's armor, unbuckling the myriad small buckles. He peeled off her cuirass just as Nessa's dress dropped to her hips. Clever girl, he thought when he saw she was wearing those filmy underclothes she'd purchased in Solitude. The silken underthings weren't lost on Astrid either. He heard her low hum of approval as she slid her hands over Nessa's breasts.
She had changed, and Astrid appreciated it. Whatever had happened over the course of the last six weeks, Nessa had lost a lot of that little girl innocence. Certainly there was still that wide-eyed, sweet look on her face, but her hands and lips were more confident, and the way she cried out her need when Astrid pinched her nipples through the diaphanous chemise, said she had matured. Still, she recalled her as she had been, so shy that a ribald joke would send her fleeing to her room. It came to her suddenly how Nessa had flushed when she first met Arnbjorn; it was obvious she'd been attracted to him then. She remembered thinking she might arrange for this very thing someday and now, here it was, presented to her, arranged for her, and it wasn't even her birthday.
Nessa's clothes dropped to the floor first, then Astrid's. Arnbjorn removed his own as he watched his wife push the girl onto the bed. She looked like a starving woman, feasting as she explored the Nessa's body once again. The girl's soft cries were getting louder. He joined the two women on the bed unsure whether he should interrupt and precisely how. His wife beckoned him to her and he let her guide him into the waiting girl.
Finding himself now the center of both their attentions, he wasn't sure how to act. He kissed and fondled his wife while he thrust into Nessa. Always he feared to cross some line that might offend Astrid. He was afraid to kiss the girl—too affectionate.
Astrid's nails scored his sides as she urged him to take the girl in the same bestial way he'd always fucked her. Let her experience the real Arnbjorn. Her sharp bites and whispered instructions made his eyes glow and some of his wild nature began to drive him.
For a moment Nessa's eyes flew open and she gasped under the onslaught of his ferocious thrusts and his nails scratching her hips where he held her. It bordered on painful, but in a way that contributed to the building ecstasy. Astrid watched them, a little smile on her face. Then she fell forward and kissed Nessa.
"You're so close aren't you, sweetling?" Astrid whispered to her. "Not yet, though." She prompted Arnbjorn to stop and they shifted positions. Now Astrid was astride her husband and Nessa's face was where they were joined together, trying to reach one moving target or another with her tongue. Then there was another rearrangement and they were stacked one upon the other, with Arnbjorn on the bottom, Nessa on her back in the middle, and Astrid on top. It wasn't good, so the deck was reshuffled again and they lay together on their sides.
This time it all seemed to work smoothly. Nessa wasn't exactly sure where her leg ended and Astrid's started, but she was building to a tremendous release and someone's lips found hers. It was Arnbjorn. His kiss was as brutal as his thrusts. Her lips felt bruised and swollen. She'd never seen this sort of ferocity from him, he'd always been careful with her, as though she might break. Astrid coaxed her closer and closer to the edge with her fingers.
When Arnbjorn began to roar with his release, she sank her fangs into Nessa's neck and that caused the girl to peak. She shuddered uncontrollably in her arms as she drank from her. Arnbjorn was lost in his own world and she, Astrid, tasted again the sweet elixir she'd missed for so long now. In an entirely different way, it was just as exhilarating as an orgasm.
When Arnbjorn recovered and his eyes began to focus, he saw his wife drinking from the girl. Nessa seemed to still be locked into a release that wouldn't end. He gently pulled his wife away from her. "That's enough, Astrid," he said quietly.
This time she didn't hiss at him. She looked up at him, her pupils dilated, and a drop of blood on her lip. She licked it off and kissed him tenderly. "I love you, Arnbjorn," she said quietly. The enormity of everything he'd done to win her back finally hit her. He'd gone against his very nature and had seduced this girl intending to share everything with her if that was what it would take to please her. Perhaps he'd even fallen in love a little, but she was certain that she still came first. Loyal as a hound, she thought. And Nessa? She ran her hand gently down the length of the girl's body as she lay on the bed panting, still trying to recover herself. Nessa loved them both, she was certain of that.
Limbs still trembling, Nessa felt boneless and relaxed. It had been awkward at first, but it worked out. Astrid looked lovingly at Arnbjorn and the two of them shared a private moment, and that made Nessa feel like she was intruding. "I should go," she said, and started to rise, but Astrid put out and arm and prevented her.
"No. Stay."
Astrid gave her a sweet, long kiss, and she felt Arnbjorn's mustache brushing against her shoulder as he kissed her lightly. The three of them fit into the big bed, but it was a tight fit. They chatted quietly for a while, talking about the contract in Solitude, the civil war and the future of the guild. Nessa was surprised that they asked her opinion. She cared little about the civil war, but her encounter with the Imperials in Helgen had left her with a dark opinion of them.
"True, Nessa, but if the Stormcloaks had sprung the ambush do you think anything different would've happened?" Astrid asked her when she learned about Helgen.
That set her to thinking. "Probably not." Ulfric, despite his kind, sad eyes, probably would have chopped her head off just as readily as General Tullius. "It's all in the past now. It doesn't matter." As she said it, she realized she meant it. Her life now was nothing like it had been. Back then she'd been just a homeless waif trying to find a way to survive. Now she was a member of a family. She turned on her side and draped an arm over Astrid's waist and Arnbjorn's big hand covered hers. She fell asleep and slept peacefully again, as if she were a child napping in the arms of a loving mother.
~o~o~o~
It was still a busy time for the Dark Brotherhood. Assassins were sent on contracts, but Astrid didn't assign Arnbjorn or Nessa any more kills. Call it selfishness, but this time with the pair of them was blissful. Yes, it was awkward at first, but that soon faded, and now, when everyone else was out of the Sanctuary, the entire place became their playground. Babette would be furious if she learned what they'd done on the alchemy table. Nazir would certainly be disgusted if he'd seen Nessa naked on the table, draped in grapes, and a pot of honey strategically placed between her legs. And best not to even mention some of the places that Festus's extra magical staff had been.
"Get your practice blades, bit," Arnbjorn had ordered her one morning. "Your blade work is lacking."
Nessa sighed deeply. She was tired and a little anemic from Astrid's feedings. "Must we? I'm not feeling so great."
"Not feeling great?" Arnbjorn said quietly, dangerously. "Yes. That excuse will work well on bandits or a target who fights back." He planted his feet and glared at her, mocking her words. "Oh, pardon me, my dear assassin. I'm sorry you're not feeling well. I'll just sit quietly while you kill me." He growled at her. "Get your blades!"
"All right!" she replied a little sharply. "I'll get them." She stomped off to her room to get her practice swords.
When she returned Arnbjorn had his own pair of practice swords. He preferred to use a great axe, but he was a more than competent swordsman as well. He barely waited until she was in the room before pressing an attack.
He went easier on her than he should have, he knew. She was looking very pale lately. Astrid was taking too much from her and the girl refused to eat the raw deer liver he kept trying to give her. It was the best cure for blood loss. Well, the coddling would end now. She would damn well start eating liver and he would have to get Astrid to stop drinking from her for a while. Neither woman would willingly stop; they both enjoyed it too much.
It didn't take much before Nessa was breathing heavily and sweating. He pressed her relentlessly and she could only barely counter his attacks while, time after time, he touched her with a blunted sword. She continued to give ground until there was no more ground to give and her back was against the wall. He finally stopped when his sword was pressed against her throat.
"You're a disgrace to the black hand, bit," he said shaking his head.
She looked apologetic. "I will practice more." She bit her lip and peered up at him, flirting. "I promise."
"That's good, but there's something else you need to do." He kept the tip of his blunted sword on her throat, but smiled a little at her flirtation.
"Oh?" She titled her head and raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "You've bested me. I suppose I am at your mercy, woof."
"True." He leaned in closer and turned her head to the side with the flat of his blade, and kissed her ear.
She shivered as he worked down her neck with his kisses. "What would you have of me?" she asked, believing she would enjoy the answer to the question.
"Eat your liver," he said. Backing away from her, he grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the dining hall.
Her feet dragged as she tried to escape from his grasp. "Gods no!" She shivered at the thought of eating raw deer liver.
He gave up trying to tug her and picked her up, tucking her under an arm.
"Ahhhh!" she yelled. "Put me down!"
He ignored her and carried her into the dining hall. "Stay," he ordered her gruffly and set her down in a chair. He left to fetch the liver and when he returned she was sitting at the table, her arms folded over her chest and a scowl on her face. It was almost enough to make him laugh. She looked like an angry toddler. He put the plate down in front of her and stared at her.
"No," she said, stubbornly refusing.
He sighed heavily, sat down next to her, and sliced the liver into bite-sized pieces, spearing it with a knife. "Come on. You need this. You've lost too much blood." He brought the liver up to her mouth but she wouldn't open it. "Nessa." His voice was clearly a warning.
Her will crumpled and she opened her mouth while squeezing her eyes shut with a look of total disgust on her face.
"Good girl." He slipped the piece of raw liver into her mouth.
She barely chewed and struggled to swallow it. Afterward she had to admit it wasn't as bad as she thought it would. It tasted like metal and blood. Arnbjorn offered her another piece and this one went down a little easier.
When she had finished the fist-sized piece of liver he smiled at her. "See! That's not so bad is it?"
She shrugged, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer.
"The best part," he said, leaning close to her, "is that now you taste like liver." He kissed her, his tongue seeking out hers, and he savored the musky, coppery flavor of deer blood.
"Hmmm… It seems I've missed the first course," his wife's lovely voice came from the doorway to the dining hall. "But I hope I'm in time for dessert."
Arnbjorn broke off the kiss and turned to greet his wife. "You're just in time, my love, although you need to give up drinking for a while. Nessa is looking pale."
Astrid chuckled and joined them. "I'll do my best, husband, but you know how I can get."
"Drink from me, my love," he invited her.
There was a flurry of kisses and caresses. Nessa's shirt fluttered to the floor, then Arnbjorn's. It seemed the dining room table was going to be misappropriated once again, when the door to the Sanctuary announced a visitor. There was a hurried flurry of dressing, and smoothing of hair.
"Hellooooo… is anyone home?"
Astrid turned to Arnbjorn and Nessa and gave them a puzzled look, her eyebrow arching significantly as the strange voice floated down the long stairway to us.
"Mother and I are here, at long last. Here to meet our brothers and sisters. Aren't we Mother? Hee, hee, hee!"
The voice was… unique. It sounded to Nessa like a cheese grater against a slate tablet or… no, against sandpaper. Loud, piercing, it carried almost every quality that could make a voice unpleasant.
"Dear father Sithis," Astrid murmured. "Do you suppose that could be the Keeper? I had a letter from him a few weeks back saying he had been delayed. I just hope he has an indoor voice."
Arnbjorn picked up his axe and growled. "If he doesn't, I'll cut it out of him."
"Hellooooo! Hallooooo! We've come, at last!"
"Well, let's either welcome the Keeper or rid ourselves of this annoyance," Astrid began to walk out of the common room up to the entryway of the Sanctuary. Arnbjorn and Nessa trailed behind.
At the top of the stairway they found an Imperial dressed in motley. Nessa had never seen anyone dressed in such outrageous clothes. The hat in particular was odd with the strange points curling away from the crown.
"Oh ho! Cicero's new family. Well met, my sisters and brother!" Cicero said, with a voice that was decidedly not an indoor voice.
Astrid's eyebrow arched tellingly as she examined the jester. "Ah, the Keeper," she said smoothly. She extended a hand which Cicero grasped and pumped up and down vigorously. "I was worried something might have happened to you."
"Oh yes, Mother and I had our adventures. Bad weather, broken wheels, bandits…." The jester sighed theatrically. "There were all manner of bad, unhelpful people Cicero had to kill. But… here we are!"
Nessa extended her hand tentatively. "Welcome, Keeper. I am Nessa," she said softly. She didn't know what to think of the strange, rather abrasive newcomer, but she was fascinated with his title. Did he really keep the Night Mother? Perhaps he would have interesting stories to tell about her. Astrid had never been all that interested in talking about the origins of the Dark Brotherhood. To her, Sithis and the Night Mother were just used to terrify children. Nessa, however, wasn't sure such tales could be dismissed out of hand.
"Why, you must be my little sister," he said looking up at her. She towered over him by a few inches, but he was at least fifteen years her senior. "I always said there needed to be more apple-cheeked cherubs in our order and it seems…," he cackled happily, "…it seems we found one, Mother!"
Nessa looked askance at Astrid who shrugged with confusion. The Keeper seemed—well, to put it mildly—a bit moon-touched. Still, other than his unpleasantly loud voice, and odd manner of dressing, he seemed harmless.
"And who is my brother with the large… axe? I hope I'm not keeping you from your firewood. Mother does like a good fire." Cicero held out his hand to Arnbjorn.
Arnbjorn narrowed his eyes and growled. He took the proffered hand and Cicero gave a high-pitched squeak.
"Oh! My new brother has quite the grip!"
Astrid jabbed Arnbjorn with her elbow. "Be nice," she said quietly. "Cicero, this is Arnbjorn, my husband."
"Ooooh! Husband of the lovely leader, not the apple-cheeked cherub." He turned to Nessa. "Does your husband have such a fierce grip too?"
"I'm not married," Nessa replied. She could feel her cheeks glowing.
"Ooooh, precious! Preeeecious! Cicero made the cherub blush!" He danced another little jig until Arnbjorn advanced on him menacingly.
"Don't you need to attend to a corpse or something?" he said. His tone conveyed as much menace as the axe he still clenched in his hand.
"Oh goodness, yes. Yesssss! Poor Mother is alone in the cart, waiting to end this dreadful journey." He looked over Arnbjorn. "You could put some of that brawn to good work! Mother needs to be unloaded from the cart and put into her new shrine." He looked at Astrid and smiled. "You've set up Mother's shrine, I trust?"
Astrid paused a moment. "Well, uh, yes. We've set aside some rooms for both you and the Night Mother. I confess, I had no idea what you needed for your… needs, so I'll leave it up to you to decide what you want." Truthfully, she'd spent no time, thought, or effort at making room for them other than deciding a pair of rooms in the unused wing of the Sanctuary could be set aside for the Keeper and his… corpse.
Cicero's eyebrow shot up in mimicry of hers. "Very well! Cicero will set up the shrine. Now, let's bring Mother in out of the weather."
Astrid declined to go outside. It was full daylight and, like all vampires, the sun made her ill, but Nessa and Arnbjorn both helped Cicero unload the large wooden crate from the back of a cart. It weighed a lot, but Cicero had a spell that helped lighten the load so they were able to carry it downstairs and get it into the room that Astrid had set aside.
Cicero had the room adjoining the Night Mother's. Nessa noticed that neither room looked tidy or ready to be used. She thought perhaps Astrid really hadn't given much thought to the Keeper's arrival. She's been busy, she thought. Certainly, this had been a very busy time for the guild. Although, to be honest, these past weeks Astrid seemed to have a lot of time to spend with Nessa and Arnbjorn. She could have assigned me to cleaning up these rooms. Nessa felt a little guilty. The Keeper was an important person; he shouldn't be given such disorderly rooms. She hung back when Astrid and Arnbjorn had left.
"I'll help you get things organized, if you like," she offered.
Cicero was uncrating the Night Mother's coffin and he stopped to turn around and inspect the girl. She was comely, he had to admit: fair-haired, fair of skin, but far too tall. Her eyes might be a little bluer than some, and there was a splattering of freckles across her nose that he liked. It was just a little hard to believe that a girl like her served the Night Mother. How could such a naïf be entrusted with helping him in his sacred duty? He was, after all, the Keeper. Still… she could be useful.
"Oooh, yes! Yes. These rooms are a little dusty and the floor seems a bit dirty. Do you think you could tidy up a bit?"
"Of course," she said. Housework was nothing foreign to Nessa. The orphans of Riften had had to scrub entire rooms on their hands and knees. She immediately set to work sweeping, dusting and scrubbing. Surprisingly, she even enjoyed it and found herself humming a folk song in time to her work. Cicero joined in, humming along with her, and then he made up nonsense lyrics to sing. That started them both laughing. Cicero might have a voice like sandpaper on slate, and he might be crazier than a hare, but he had a certain quirky charm, Nessa decided.
Astrid said nothing to her as Nessa scurried around with a bucket and rags. "I like this not," she murmured to Arnbjorn, unsure exactly what it was that bothered her more: the Keeper interrupting their idyll, or Nessa acting like a chambermaid to fix up their rooms.
~o~o~o~o~
Notes: Thanks to those who reviewed: Biff McLaughlin, Zevgirl, x_Janelle_x, Rayven Feather, Steffiii07, Leonidas Raistlin Knowitall, Procrastination Possum, EllaBea, Blue Dartwing, and Heiwako. I really love the feedback!
Finally Cicero arrives! I know at the beginning of the story I mentioned he would be arriving any day and uh… he was delayed. But interestingly enough, I was replaying the game and I noticed how Astrid mentions that the Keeper is supposed to be arriving but he is several months late… so in reality he's right on time!
I've been dreading writing Cicero. I find him horribly annoying in game. His voice drives me up a wall. However, my friend Heiwako assures me he will grow on me if I keep him alive and have him as a companion. This latest play-through I'm doing that. I even dressed him up in Nightingale armor and he even looks kind of like Brynjolf if you use invisible helms like I do. Now… if only he spoke like Brynjolf!