Chapter Text
“Ouch! Pointy pointy!” A voice rang out from somewhere in the sanctuary as three sharp spears protruded from the wall and out over the small wooden bridge. Of course Cicero would of set traps up all over the place. He was a fool but he wasn't an idiot. The air was heavy and freezing cold inside of the abandoned DawnStar sanctuary as The Listener silently made their way through, staying low to the ground so the guardians wouldn't detect the wood elf. Cicero's echoed chattered filled the air as he giggled and laughed at his own jokes. The Bosmer sneaked silently as a well placed arrow hit the ghostly guardian, making it exclaim before disappearing, leaving behind a pile of blue dust on the floor.
It had only been a few months since the jester had arrived with the Night Mother to the Falkreath sanctuary, and even less time since the unsuspecting Bosmer had become The Listener. Scrump didn't see themself as anything special and they didn't understand why the Night Mother had chosen them. They had only completed a handful of contracts before hearing the binding words. Almost anyone else in the sanctuary would have been a better fit but Scrump was chosen either way. Since that day however, Cicero had been considered their closest ally and friend. He was the only member of the Dark Brotherhood who still respected the old ways, unlike their leader Astrid who did all she could to remain in power, even going as far to eradicate the tenets. Even if he was crazed, Scrump had found the jester to be loyal and much more wise than he seemed.
“You're still alive!” The voice echoed once more as Scrump silently made their way up a set of stairs, leaving behind a room that was now partly on fire, thanks to another trap set by The Keeper. “Cicero respects The Listener's abilities, of course, but could you at least slow down a bit? I'm not what I used to be.” There was a pain in his voice as he struggled to keep his energy up, even giving up a weak laugh as Scrump just shook their head with a frown. Why in the name of Sithis did he have to make it so hard to get to him? It was insulting to the young mer that Cicero would go to these extreme measures to keep Scrump away. The jester would of had time to disable all of this traps before the assassin arrived but no, he decided to hide in the back of this gods forsaken place. It did confuse them to see the guardians attacking Scrump. They were protecting the Keeper but not The Listener.
As Scrump made their way through the sanctuary, they soon came across the icy cavern that had been forcefully made behind where a stained glass mural used to sit. A frost troll was guarding it's new home but after a few arrows, the beast was down. After it was defeated, Cicero continued to exclaim, admitting that he attacked Astrid. It seemed like she had insulted The Night Mother one too many times in front of the fool and he snapped. The Listener truly did understand. Cicero had dealt with disrespect from most of the family ever since he arrived. Even as Scrump left the sanctuary to go after Cicero, the only person sympathetic to him was Gabriella. She felt he was justified in what he did even if she would never say that out loud. It was clear where the rest of the family held their loyalty and it wasn't towards the unholy matron. There was only so much mocking that one could take before they were at their limit. But still, it was reckless and idiotic to attack another member of the family the way he did, especially the self proclaimed leader. There was no way Cicero would be let back in now. Scrump had been sent to kill him after all.
The Listener made their way through the sanctuary, following the blood on the stones to track the fool as quietly as possible. Their light feet carried them across the stone floor but the ghostly assassins were trained well to pick up on intruders. As Scrump attacked the guardians from the shadows, Cicero could be heard trying to bargain as he realized the assassin was nearing his position until soon, Scrump pulled a chain in the wall. The spikes blocking their path disappeared back into the ceiling before they continued. This was the end, the blood lead to a door, the Imperial was there. Scrump let out a deep breath, realizing the fighting was over. They attached the bow to their back once making sure there was no more danger and neared the door which sheltered the fool inside. “And now, we come to the end of our play. The grand..finale..” Cicero said from behind the door that Scrump stood at. His voice sounded strained and painful as he talked, still trying to be jovial even in the face of death. Scrump let out a deep breath as they smoothed back their dark brown mohawk, trying to calm down from the combat that they had fought through to get here. After a minute, Scrump lifted the wooden bar off of the door and pushed it open.
There on the floor, was the fool of hearts. The Imperial man was curled up on the floor, holding onto his stomach, in front of a fire to keep himself warm as he had awaited the arrival of The Listener.. Scrump stepped forward, hands to their sides as they stopped at the foot of the two stone steps that Cicero was on top of. Scrump stood there, wanting to hear what he had to say for himself. “You caught me! I surrender!” He said through pained laughs before taking another deep labored breath. The elf was still mad about the hoops they had to jump through and simply frowned and cocked an eyebrow up, allowing Cicero to talk more. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, Cicero spoke once more with a forced laugh. “Oh you prefer to listen eh? Of course, of course! The Listener listens! A joke, a funny joke!” he laughed out, giggling before his face turned menacing for a moment and his voice dropped “I get it.” He said coldly, causing a chill to run down Scrump's spine. They only heard that tone briefly before in the past but now that it was targeted at them, it really was spine tingling. Before they had the chance to fully register the drop of his facade, Cicero went back to his normal pitch and continued, “Then listen to this, don't kill me. Let poor Cicero live. I attacked the strumpet Astrid, I did. And I'd do it again! Anything for our mother.” He rambled on. The assassin stayed silent, knowing they wouldn't get a word in until he shut up. That was something they learned long ago. “Return to the pretender. Tell her I'm dead! Tell her you strangled me with my own intestines! But lie! Yes, lie and let me live!” He yelled with strained laughter in between his words. Was that it? Was the fool finally done with his begging and pleading for his life?
Scrump stayed silent as The Keeper lie bleeding on the floor, breathing heavily as his hand was tight around his abdomen from where he was bleeding. Of course they would lie. They wouldn't kill Cicero, they had made their mind up before leaving Falkreath. It wasn't what Mother would want nor Sithis. Unlike Astrid, Scrump was loyal to The Nigh Mother and the Dread Lord. Cicero knew this so why, in this moment, was he so desperate to bargain with them? They let out a deep huff through their nose and put their hands out in front of themself as they neared the pitiful man on the ground. Scrump watched as Cicero's hand moved to his side, his hand hesitating over his ebony dagger that was sheathed. They looked back down at him as their face twisted into a deep frown at the mere thought of him attacking. Then their hands started to glow and a moment later, they gingerly placed their hands on his wound as the magic from Healing Hands reaching Cicero and started healing his wounds. The jester's eyes widened in surprise, expecting only one of two outcomes; The Listener leaving or slaying him. “What are you doing?” Cicero asked as he fully moved his gloved hand away from his body to see the slash in his skin slowly closing.
“Did you really think I would just leave you to die?” Scrump spat out, angry at the man for distrusting them so much. “You're not making it easy to be on your side.” As their own energy drained, they put their hands down and sat on the step right below the man. His eyes never left the mer, at a loss of words (for once). The two sat there in silence, the crackling of the fire filling the air. The tension was thick in the air, perhaps Scrump should of just left after finding him...
“Cicero is sorry, Scrump.” The man said after a few minutes of silence. He sat up slowly and looked down at his hand, inspecting the blood on his glove before looking down at where the wound once had been. It was much more shallow that it had been and all that would remain was a faint scar. The slash to his outfit did annoy him however, he would need to fix it up. “There's only so much mocking one can take. The cruel words that harlot said about Mother-” He spoke before Scrump turned their head around quickly, glaring daggers at the Imperial.
“That is no excuse and you know it!” They shouted, sending Cicero reeling slightly “Things were working out fine and now I have to go home and lie! I have to tell them you're dead. Did you not think about the repercussions?” Scrump scolded, feeling like a parent disciplining a child. “You hurt Veezara! You stabbed him! Astrid wanted me to kill you for this. I have to go home and lie to everyone. I have to pretend that I killed you! And what of Mother then, hm? You can't go back now and take care of her! In your haste to defend her honor, you abandoned your duties!” Cicero was silent as The Listener shouted, turning his head away to look at the stone floor but listened either way. He now knew the consequences of his rage filled outburst. He couldn't return to the sanctuary, couldn't return to The Night Mother. He hung his head and shut his eyes as he thought. What was to become of him? If he couldn't protect Mother, then what? “I have to take care of her now and try and pull of the biggest contract we've had in years! I needed you Cicero. I needed you there, not here!” They shouted, needing to release the anger they felt towards him. He had been the one person Scrump could trust.
“You're right..” Cicero sighed as he coughed up a bit of blood, spitting it out to the side as he lifted his head to see Scrump still staring at him with black eyes that were somehow burning.“Cicero has neglected his duties and in turn our Mother. For this, Cicero is truly sorry.. I shall stay here, for I am safe in this sanctuary. Only you and I know the words to enter. Yes, Cicero is safe here...” he said, his voice falling and sounding melancholy.
“I think that's for the best.” Scrump said as they grabbed their bag from their back, placing it on the floor, and pulled out a small pack of food. They handed it over to Cicero along with a small sack of gold. “Use this to buy any supplies you need in town.” They instructed as the man took what was given and listened closely to them. “I'll return to check on you in a week's time. Despite this.. stunt, you're still my friend, Cicero. I am still The Listener and you, The Keeper. No matter what Astrid thinks, The Brotherhood is nothing without us. The change to the old ways will just take more time now.” They sighed as they leaned back against the step, staring at the ceiling with their hands behind their head. Without Cicero's help in the Brotherhood now it would be much more difficult to work, and more lonely.
“Anything you need Listener, Cicero is still here to serve” he said as he leaned over into their line of sight. Scrump's eyes focused on him now as they smiled faintly.
“Loyal Cicero...” They said in almost a whisper as they gazed up at him, his fiery red hair hanging down near their face as the fool disregarded personal space, a common trope with him. The Listener reached up slightly, putting a gloved hand against his cheek as he peered down at the Bosmer. After a moment, they pulled their gaze away and focused on a long forgotten skeleton against a wall, keeping their hand in place against his cheek.“What have we gotten ourselves into?”