I am recently on a complete Skyrim bender and as a result I'm spawning many FanFictions – this is one I've been meaning to write for a while now. One focusing mainly on Cicero, the wonderfully strange Dark Brotherhood member! It follows the Dark Brotherhood Questline and as such SPOILER WARNING.

Please enjoy the story and please leave a review – I love them muchly :D

I own nothing except my OC, Meradith.

DELAYED BURIAL

Cicero feels nothing but anger, anger at the stupid Nord farmer for refusing to help him fix this damnable wagon wheel! Could he not see that he is transporting his mother, his sweet Night Mother? No no, of course not, the ignorant farmer doesn't know about the world except what he can see in front of his nose. Couldn't possibly see the magnitude of keeping the Night Mother from her new resting place.

Growling in anger, and kicking the broken wheel in a vain attempt to try and vent it, Cicero readies himself to approach Loreius again. Maybe this time he will change his mind hm? Maybe this time he will help poor poor Cicero fix his wagon? Before he could however he spots a figure approaching from a distance and he is unable to stop the large grin spreading over his features. The woman is approaching him! Oh how he hopes that she will be wanting to help fix the cart and get him on his way – Falkreath is still so so far from this place and he is already very late in his arrival.

"Are you alright?" she asks softly, a nice voice this woman has indeed, Cicero likes it very much he finds.

"No no, can't you see Cicero is stuck, stuck here!" he rages, stamping his feet in indignation "This insufferable wheel broke! Yes it did. Nobody has come to help poor Cicero, he and his mother have been waiting here for hours."

Of course, he can see the look on the woman's face when he speaks to her, she thinks the same as everyone else he's met in Skyrim no doubt. That he's mad! Cicero, mad? What a laughable concept. Still, there it is, the furrowing of the brow, pursing of the lip. He almost sighs, knowing that she will most likely not be helping him to fix his wheel.

"Has your mother gone to fetch some help for you?" she asks again, her voice in fact seems even softer than before, which confuses Cicero. The woman looks angered but is she not angry at Cicero? Oh happy days it might be that he is wrong! It might be that he and his mother will get the help that they need.

"No," he laughs wickedly "No, my mother is quite dead. Cicero is taking her to a new crypt. I have asked the farmer, Loreius many times if he can help me fix my wagon, but each time he turns poor Cicero away! Maybe if you were to ask him, he might help me…" Cicero grins widely, hoping that the woman would be so kind as to do him this small favour.

"Of course, it's no problem at all. I'll go and ask him for you, Cicero." She grins back, giving him a small wave before trekking up the hill.

The armour she is wearing strikes Cicero as very…odd. Black as the void and shifting all the while. Tight to the skin. It has a feeling of magic about it, perhaps it is enchanted? He muses with a small hum. Dismissing the thought he laughs happily and turns his attention to the Night Mother, gently stroking the wooden crate he is transporting her in as he whispers to her;

"Did you hear that sweet mother, the kind stranger goes to fetch us help. We will be at our new home soon enough, oh yes, yes we will!" he cackles, how joyous it will be to finally arrive at the Falkreath Sanctuary, for weeks now Cicero has been thinking about what it will look like, what brothers and sisters he might meet there. That is if this lady manages to convince the cruel Loreius to come down from his farm and help him.

A few minutes later he hears light footsteps on the gravel and whips his head up from his Night Mother to see if it is the sweet lady, and it is! And she has a smile on her face, that must mean that she comes baring good news. Bouncing on the balls of his feet Cicero can barely contain his excitement as she comes closer and closer, until she stops right by him still sporting the same smile as before.

"I managed to convince him to come down and fix your wheel." She states with a bright smile "He said he will be down in a few minutes with his tools."

"Oh joy of joys, happy happy day!" Cicero can't help his wild laughter as he lifts his legs and arms in a jig which he only snaps out of when he hears the sweet lady laughing, laughing at him? Her laugh is very gentle just like her voice, and Cicero finds it annoying that they must part ways – would it not be funny if he arrived at the Sanctuary and found that she is a part of it? Maybe that will be true, maybe Cicero will see the kind woman once more. "I thank you, but more than that, my dear mother thanks you, your kindness will never be forgotten."

She seems hesitant to accept praise, Cicero notes with a raised eyebrow – he will just have to praise her all the more so she will not be able to ignore it!

"Really it was my pleasure to help, I hope that you and your mother have a safe journey from this point onwards. There are lots of bandits around these parts, so, please be careful." She warns with a small smile.

"Oh such a lovely sweet lady thinking about poor Cicero and his mother, not a worry we shall be quite safe, Cicero is not as silly as he first appears." He grins with a wink, not quite sure what to say, throughout his long journey Cicero had not met someone who had wished him safe travel, or helped him like this. Curse and confound that he must be on his way, and could not talk to the lady further. "Here, take this shiny clinking gleaming coin for your kind deed."

Again she hesitates to take the rewards Cicero gives to her! Maybe Cicero should pin the coin purse to her hand with his dagger, then she would have no choice but to take it, but no, no he could not harm the sweet lady. He should not. Pulling her hands towards him he places the pouch forcibly into her grasp, before closing her fingers over it with a wicked grin;

"Cicero insists." He states, a low undertone running through his voice which makes the sweet woman take a most unusual colouring to her cheeks.

"W-well thank you Cicero. I'll make sure to put this to good use." With a small bow that surprises Cicero no end, the kind woman turns on her heel and continues her walk down the dirt path. Cicero wonders why the strange lady would bow to him, he was no Jarl or Emperor, it made him feel odd. Giving her retreating form one last glance he merely cackles once more, and returns his attention to the stupid farmer, who is approaching down the path, perhaps when he is done Cicero will snap his neck, slit his throat, drain his blood for daring to keep the sweet Night Mother waiting.

ARRIVAL AT THE FALKREATH SANCTUARY

Finally! Finally Cicero has arrived at the Sanctuary! His journey has ended and the Night Mother may rest happily in her new home, yes she may. The Brothers and Sisters have gathered to welcome him, minus one he had been told was still doing a contract.

Cicero already does not like many of the family here.

The pretender Astrid so clearly abandoning the five tenets, leaving the teaching of their sweet Night Mother in the dust! Such a thought makes Cicero quake in anger, makes his hand itch for his blade to end the warped teachings this woman impresses upon these brothers and sisters in shadow. Not only her but her lumbering lapdog of a husband who so blindly follows her out of some misplaced loyalty – loyalty to the Night Mother, to Sithis should come before any 'bonds of matrimony'. These two deserve death by his hands, that will teach them for what they're doing here but, no, no, Cicero will calm down, Cicero will give the pretender a chance to change!

Hearing the door to the Sanctuary crack open, Cicero can't help but turn to see who the last member of this little family might be. It is far more interesting than listening to Astrid mumbling her idiotic statements about Cicero being crazy, being mad. Cicero? Mad? Why, that is madness in itself! Chuckling to himself he watches as the pretender ascends the steps to speak with the new family member before he gets even a glimpse at who it might be. Oh why does she always ruin poor Cicero's fun?

"…What?! Mother? Is that your voice I hear?" he asks urgently, placing his ear against the wooden crate, oh please let it be his sweet Night Mother, finally answering him, finally gracing him with her sweet voice! Sighing softly, Cicero dejectedly allows his hands to slip from the wood "No, no…just my head playing tricks. Foolish Cicero."

"Cicero?" a familiar gentle voice coos, too close for Cicero to be comfortable!

He jumps away and stares at the new comer, this new bold family member, why he could have his robes covered in her crimson blood by now she had scared him so! Ah-ha! So his hopes have come true, Cicero never forgets a face oh no, and this one he remembers all too well. The sweet lady from the farm, who had helped him and the Night Mother on their way.

"Ah I know you, Cicero never forgets a face! You are the kind lady from the road, helped Cicero fix his wagon you did, never thought I would see you again never mind as a sister in the Dark Brotherhood!" he cackles with glee, clapping his hands together and hopping from one foot to another in happiness. Oh happy happy days, Cicero has one friend at least in this place, one friend who might stand by him in this nest of vipers.

"Yes, I remember you too. So the mother you were transporting is the Night Mother? I'm even gladder that I helped you then." She laughs, running her hand through her unruly hair.

"Oh yes yes, our mother! it is my happy duty as the Keeper to take care of the Night Mother." He giggles "Cicero hoped that he would see the kind lady again."

"My name is Meradith." She laughs in return "I too am happy to see you again Cicero, but what pray tell does the Keeper actually do? Astrid has not told me a lot about the structure of the Dark Brotherhood so I'm afraid I don't know."

Scowling at the floor, Cicero wishes to sink his blade into the pretender all the more, lying to sweet Meradith. He would make sure that she followed the Five Tenets, he did not want her to be punished in the void like he wishes the rest of these ignorant fools would be. She is new, she has not been taught. So happy Cicero will be the one to teach her! Where to begin? Where to begin…with her question of course. What question could he better answer than one about his own duties to care for their mother?

"Cicero is not surprised Meradith has not been told. Cicero takes care of our ladies body, preserving, oiling and tending to it. Of course, Cicero also makes sure that nobody defiles the sanctity of the Night Mothers coffin!" he states, with a firm tone to his voice, anyone who he caught disrespecting the Night Mother will be skewered, no more than a Skeever on the end of his blade.

"That sounds like a vast responsibility." She states with a soft smile "You must be very trusted. I'd be happy to learn more about the Dark Brotherhood when I come back from my next contract, right now I have to go and prepare…it was, nice to talk with you Cicero."

And just like that, just like that the kind Meradith is gone! Gone! Walking away in that same armour that Cicero remembers her wearing when they first met, the same admiration of it gleaning through him. If Cicero is not the Fool of Hearts he might even kill for such a fine suit of armour, but no, he is happy with his simple hat and coat – for whoever would suspect a simple jester of such an atrocity as murder? Meradith disappeared over the stairs and Cicero hummed, he enjoyed speaking with his sister, perhaps he should wish her well on her journey like she wished him well on his? Cackling viciously, Cicero shook his head, Meradith is thin and gangly but an assassin she still is, she does not need his wishes well.

"Come my sweet Night Mother, let me introduce you to your new home." He grins wickedly, cracking his knuckles, as Cicero readies himself to move his Night Mother up the stone steps to her resting place.

MOURNING NEVER COMES

Cicero is bored. He has been speaking with the other members of this sanctuary and Cicero can't help but want to dance with joy that they all seem to be coming around to his own way of thinking – that the pretender Astrid should take into consideration the Five Tenets again. How they could have been working without them is unknown to Cicero, but what matters now is that he can tell the strumpet that they should be reinstated once more. The Un-child, the wizard and even the Argonian and Dark Elf are in agreement with him, the only person he has not asked yet is Meradith and that is only because she has not come back from her contract yet.

"Perhaps Cicero was wrong." He sighs, as he polishes the Night Mothers coffin "Perhaps he should have wished sweet Meradith luck on her journey, she has been gone longer than a week now, oh bother and blast it." Cicero growls, taking his frustration out on a particularly annoying spot of dirt on the Night Mothers coffin.

"What are you muttering about now, fool?"

Cicero jumps, over exaggerated of course, as nobody can actually surprise sneaky, stealthy Cicero. He can pierce the Un-Child's heart while she stands at the alchemy table and she would not know it until his cold blade was already through her ribs!

"Cicero talks to himself, very rude to eavesdrop on conversations it is, mhm." He states, folding his arms across his chest as he stares down at the vampire. Oh! What is this! The child is sighing, sighing at poor Cicero? Whatever has he done now?

"Meradith will be fine. You've been like a kicked puppy since she left, so maybe next time you want to say something to her, just do it and save the rest of us the trouble of listening to you pining." Babette states with a frown, rolling her eyes and swiftly walking out of the Night Mothers chamber towards the Alchemy Lab. Cicero does not know what the Unchild means, Cicero merely worries for his fellow sister should not they all? Frowning he slips out of the chamber and into his own quarters, Cicero's confusion could be better puzzled out when written down methinks, he is definitely not acting like a dog, let alone one that has been kicked! What could the Unchild be suggesting?

WHISPERS IN THE DARK

How could she?! HOW COULD SHE?!

Sweet sweet Meradith, not so sweet after all! Like a sweetroll dipped in the foulest of poisons, she has deceived him, he trusted her and now she has defiled the coffin of their Night Mother! Growling Cicero unsheathes his pointy knife and pulled her from the coffin where she has been hiding away, wrapping his fingers around a delicate wrist to hold her still for when he begins to drain the life from her body. Nobody desecrates the coffin of his mother and lives to tell about it!

"You! What treachery! Defiler, debaser and defiler!" he bellows, placing the cool blade of his dagger against her pale skin, the black metal contrasting against the cream colour.

"Cicero please…"

Her wide eyes do nothing but further enflame Cicero's rage, how dare she look so scared she brought this upon herself when she stepped into the sacred coffin, when she betrayed his trust. The last person poor foolish Cicero ever thought he should be worrying about in this place is this treacherous, treasonous Meradith!

"Explain yourself!" he growls, pressing the blade against her closer, making the skin a shade of rose pink. He will not give in to such pleas from his former sweet friend, it makes the betrayal worse by far that she is someone that he trusted above all of the others in this place – someone he…has been growing to enjoy being around.

"D-darkness rises when silence dies." Her false voice utters.

Cicero must have misheard, she can't possibly have said those words, could she? Very slowly he lets his blade drop from her neck and he steps away so that he can look into her eyes. If the liar has simply guessed these words there will be no amount of putting her back together again from what dark, angry, Cicero will do to her.

"What did you say?" he asks, keeping his tone low, his emotions packed away and unreadable.

"Darkness rises when silence dies, the Night Mother, she spoke with me Cicero, said that you would understand if I told you those words." Meradith whispers, her eyes still wide, still wary of angry Cicero still lurking just around the corner should he sense she lies in any way.

"But those are the words, the way that I will know. Mothers only way of talking with sweet Cicero." Laughing manically, Cicero slips his dagger away and claps his hands, doing the very same jig that he often does whenever he is around sweet Meradith "Then it is true, our Lady is back! You are the Listener! All hail the Listener, all hail sweet Meradith!"

Of course, of course there has to have been a reason she was within the Night Mothers coffin and now it all makes sense! Finally, he has found what he has been looking for all these years, and it is the marvellous, wonderful Meradith! He grins, gripping Meradith by her shoulders and squeezing them gently.

Her wide green eyes, that before filled him with anger now fill him with a sincere weight of guilt. How could stupid Cicero doubt his one and only friend, dear Meradith? How could he think that she would betray him? Not only that but stupid, violent Cicero almost killed the Listener! Oh, he should be punished eternally in the Void for such a blunder, sentenced to spend all eternity without a single joke, laugh or caper. He has made the Listener scared of the Keeper, mad, crazy Cicero! Allowing his hands to gently slip from her shoulders, he turns his face from hers, he does not deserve to look upon the woman the Night Mother has chosen after what he has done to her.

Poor Meradith had been scared no doubt by what had happened, and then Cicero goes and tries to slit her pretty throat. How hopeless he is with women!

"Forgive me Listener, Cicero…"

"By Sithis, this ends now! Back away fool!" The annoying pretender shouts from the doorway, making Cicero scowl fiercely in her direction, he was about to apologise profusely to the delightful Listener for his mistake but it is all ruined! All ruined now and it is all her fault!

They talked together, the pretender and the Listener, his Listener…no, Cicero thought wrong, not his Listener but his mother's Listener. It still makes his blood boil, what right has the pretender to not act on the words of the Night Mother? To repress the knowledge that the Listener has given to them? To not even believe that Meradith has been appointed as the Listener! Cicero's dagger would be in his hand again if he does not think that the dear Listener would be most angry with him for trying to kill the pretender and her in one night.

"The Listener has been chosen, she spoke the binding words, rejoice! All hail the Listener!" Cicero grinned, clapping his hands in glee that the pretender Astrid would soon, whether she wanted to or not, be forced to adapt to the proper way of things now that there is a Listener once more. His brothers and sisters will stand by the Listener now, and she will have no choice but to change, the very thought made him cackle happily.

Nothing changes in her plan though, nobody takes what poor Cicero says seriously let alone the strumpet Astrid. Scowling at the door she has just walked through, he turns his attention back to the Listener who is hugging her arms about her body gently. Is she still upset with Cicero? Tentatively Cicero taps her upon the shoulder and notes that her eyes are a darker shade of green than normal, unsure of what this means, he merely admires the difference. Oh such a small difference makes the Listener seem all the more beautiful, he sighs softly, but stops when he sees the thin pink line he himself has made on her skin.

"Listener, Cicero wishes to…" Cicero begins but halts at the look on her face, a small lump settling in his chest - when dear Meradith has left he will see about ripping that lump out, he finds it very irritating, the pain that it creates - .

"I think I just need to have some time by myself for now," she whispers, moving her small shoulder from his touch as if it burns her. Stupid, stupid Cicero! The Keeper should always look out for the Listener and now the Listener wants nothing to do with him, however should he take care of her when she does not want to be in the same room as him! After all these years, no Listener to keep Cicero company, only the Jesters laugh in his head…he finally makes a friend, finds a Listener and loses both in one day. Sithis this is a cruel punishment for Cicero's misdeeds, a cruel punishment indeed.

"Very well, Listener. Cicero will leave you be."

With a flash of her flaming red hair Meradith disappears around the corner, and leaves poor Cicero all alone, with the Night Mother once more. Times are indeed looking up, however, this is not how Cicero has imagined this moment would go.

THE CURE FOR MADNESS

Cicero knows the pretender will send the Listener to kill him, they were friends and she would send her to test the Listeners loyalty to her own cause. Of course, Cicero cannot blame the dear Listener if she did kill him, he did try and kill her after all, and the Argonian. In his defense though, he did not actually kill either of them so, perhaps she would show some leniency? Oh poor Cicero hopes that she will do, he loves the Night Mother but is not ready to serve in the Void just yet, there are so many things he has not done yet!

He hears the door to the sanctuary open and Cicero tries desperately to keep whatever little blood he has, within his body, he will need his strength if the Listener makes it through the tricksy traps he has set for her.

The idea, of Meradith going through those traps and possibly getting hurt appeals to damned Cicero on some levels. It means he will most likely survive another day, he can return to Bravil, he can…go anywhere really. Yet, if she dies in those tricky traps dear Meradith will be no more! The Night Mother will not, and does not, want the Listener to be killed by the Keeper. Only protected! Protected and kept safe, yes yes. What has Cicero done? With a groan he rests his head against the stone of the sanctuary, hearing the Listener come closer and closer;

"Oh but this isn't at all what Mother would want. You kill the Keeper or I kill the Listener?" he sighs.

Each trap and creature the Listener defeats makes a cold stone plop into Cicero's stomach, the time is coming where he will have to defeat her himself if she cannot be stopped by the guardians. Meradith has even killed the frost troll by now! Whatever shall he do, he does not want to fight the Listener no, maybe she will spare him, leave him here to whatever fate Sithis has in store for him. Did she use to enjoy being around him like he still enjoys to be around her, to listen himself to the gentle voice of the Listener. Giggling at his own pun, Cicero's eyes lock onto the door he is lying in front of and smiles serenely, sounds of commotion occurring outside;

"And now we come to the end of our play, the grand finale."

The door opens and Cicero can see her, oh yes he can. The beautiful powerful Listener. Her curled hair, red as blood flows around her thin shoulders as she walks into the room surveying the scene she is greeted with, surveying the state of poor Cicero. But while she is doing this, Cicero still admires the Listener, it may after all be his last chance! Despite being slender he can sense the power that rolls from her in waves. Power that comes from her bow and from her magic, not from skull crushing weapons and armour like normal brutish Nords. Her green eyes burn with some…foreign emotion Cicero cannot understand but it leaves his throat drying inexplicably.

"Dear Listener…"

"Meradith, my name is Meradith." She states firmly, her eyes narrowing in displeasure.

"Ah yes of course, my sweet Meradith. You, ah, you caught me, I surrender." Cicero holds up his hands weakly before placing them back over his abdomen to keep pressure on the wound he had received from that lumbering lapdog. Meradith remains silent, her eyes lock onto poor Cicero and Cicero feels like squirming under the intensity of her gaze. Just what is she trying to see? What is her mind trying to figure out?

"I attacked the strumpet Astrid, I did! And I'd do it again, anything for our mother. Return to the pretender, tell her I'm dead, tell her you strangled me with my own intestines. Lie, yes lie, and let me live." Cicero whispers softly, looking up at dear Meradith from the floor "Do what you will, in the end Sithis will judge us all."

The small hands on his stomach makes Cicero jump and he stares wide eyed at the Listener as she kneels beside him; "I know that Astrid provoked you Cicero, and, I'm not about to kill you because you defended our Mother, and the Old Way." Meradith whispers, and Cicero finds himself unable to look away from the dear Listeners eyes as she lifts his hands from his chest and looks to tend the wound that he has. She merely raises an eyebrow when she finds out that in fact, tricksy Cicero has been lying all along, no injury for poor Cicero!

"I er, truly thought that the pretender had turned you against me, sweet Meradith, Cicero apologises for being so tricksy." He cackles, looking at her with a cheeky smile on his lips, which Cicero is proud to admit makes the Listener smile gently back at him.

"It's okay, but…Cicero, if we ever meet in the future please don't lie to me again. Show me the same courtesy I show you."

Suitably chastised Cicero finds himself nodding his head, shamed that he has done so much wrong by the dear Listener but he swears upon the Night Mother never again would he do a thing to harm the Listener! She is his Listener, and he will do everything in his power to protect her from those who would seek to attack her just as he protects the Night Mother herself! Cicero goes to place his hand upon her own, but Meradith moves away before he can feel that soft skin beneath his rough fingertips – poor Cicero almost pouts at the loss of contact. He wants to thank sweet Meradith, yet here she is, getting up and leaving again!

"I should be getting back to Falkreath, here's some food for you until you figure out you know, what you're doing." Meradith whispers, and Cicero swears on the Night Mother that he can see her beautiful eyes gathering some tears! "Goodbye then, Cicero." She states, not even meeting poor Cicero's eyes as she says it.

Standing swiftly, Cicero gently grips dear Meradith's hand and grins cheekily at her;

"Stay safe, until the next time, my Listener, my Meradith." Cicero gently raises her hand to his lips, and places a tender kiss there, before cracking a wicked grin and chuckling lightly "I promise we will meet again."

An indescribable mixture of sadness, but also, hope descends on poor Cicero's shoulders as he watches Meradith turn on her heel to dash back out of the Sanctuary to return to the arms of the pretender. Despite knowing he would see her again (Cicero has promised and more than that, he did not think that he could go two weeks without seeing his Listener never mind the rest of eternity!) Cicero still felt that weight on his chest once more, but, as he learnt the first time he couldn't simply just cut it out.

Ironic, that the Fool of Hearts himself should be needing advice about hearts. Yet it is simple to see stabbing a heart, and learning to nurture one is quite different but perhaps, for his fiery Listener, he could learn.

There you go guys! I hope that you enjoyed my work, and please leave a little review if you did. Thanks for reading! :D