A/N: I got a lovely mod to allow a playable Dremora character and this story came about from possible so yep. RnR!

A dark figure slunk squatted in the shadows, a small dagger in hand that was glistening with dark fluid, the figure tutted and bent to wipe the blade on a fresh corpse's shirt,

" . . . what a mess." the hooded woman murmured, straightening to sheath her daggers, Ice Sliver and Lightning Spark, on her belt and shook her head.

The woman wasn't human, but she wasn't really anything else normally seen by mortals, her horned head and dark demonic eyes set her aside as one of the Dremora, she'd been exiled from her home in Oblivion for things best not discussed and roamed the mortal plane with naught but her faithful servant, Farandast, to summon for company and even then, he did not speak much and would return to Oblivion after a short time.

Her name was Etcetera the Eldest and she was a thief, an assassin, and, for the moment as long as they continued to amuse her, a member of the Dark Brotherhood. How she ended up with a pack of mortals calling her 'sister' and sending her about to kill other mortals was neither here nor there and she didn't much care for details anyway.

The daedra slowly made her way back out of the town without being noticed, the perks of soft-soled shoes and years of practice, and then she opened a portal and with the blink of an eye she was no longer standing outside of Rorikstead and appeared just south of Falkreath. Etcetera pulled the mask down from her cowl to breath in the pine-scented air and sighed in an almost content manner, she was home, or at least the closest she'd ever come to calling any place 'home'.

The dark door swung open easily at her touch and she ducked inside.

"Ah, there you are." Astrid smiled from her normal spot of leaning on the Sanctuary doorway.

Etcetera nodded once and moved to go past her leader, the Dremora did not often speak aloud and preferred to keep her answers to questions short and to the point or use gestures to communicate rather than the long-winded dialogue that so many of the mortals seemed to enjoy. This didn't seem to bother the Brotherhood at all, in fact they were all rather content to let the odd, dark-eyed woman do what she would without complaint.

"Nazir has the payment for you." Astrid said then she stepped into Etcetera's way, "I wonder if I may have a word before you toddle off to get your reward, dearest?"

The snide tone made the Dremora stop in her tracks and tilt her horned head in Astrid's direction, crossing her arms over her chest and nodding, go ahead.

"That . . . man, Cicero . . . I don't like how he is acting. But he won't listen to me, you on the other hand . . . for some reason that I cannot discern the little madman likes you and listens to you, for whatever that's worth, so find out what's got him so agitated and put an end to it." Astrid narrowed her eyes and leaned closer to the Dremora, "In any way you can."

Etcetera's eyebrow rose slightly and she frowned behind the mask but the nodded and slipped around Astrid, moving down to the main area of the Sanctuary and turning to pad up the stairs. Etcetera stopped in to give Babette a pat on the head and wave to Gabriella (she'd found she enjoyed the Dark Elf and Vampress's company the most) before slipping down a short hallway to the Night Mother's chamber.

She took a moment to admire the massive coffin standing in front of the stained glass window before moving on to Cicero's chambers. And sure enough the short ginger was pacing about and wringing his jester's hat in his hands, mumbling to himself and so much in his own world that he didn't notice the silent Dremora, but then, no one ever heard her if she didn't want them to.

Etcetera moved in and tugged her hood off (grimacing at the effort of maneuvering her horns out of the holes she'd cut in the hood) and crossed the room to grab onto Cicero's shoulders, ceasing his pacing. Cicero started in surprise and blinked up at Etcetera,

"Oh. OH! Hello, Sister . . . fancy seeing you here, of all places to be seeing you, Cicero would not expect to do the seeing of you here in his room. Why is it that he is seeing you here?"

Etcetera tilted her head slightly then glanced around the room at the objects that had been knocked about in his frantic pacing. She reached down to remove the twisted cap from Cicero's hand only for the small man to leap back,

"No, no, this is Cicero's! You can't have this, can you? No, it doesn't belong to you! And Cicero knows how sticky Horned-Sister's fingers are! He knows how you pilfer away anything that looks so shiny or pretty!" Cicero scowled and quickly pulled the cap down on his head and turned away, crossing his arms and pouting petulantly, "No."

Etcetera sighed and moved around Cicero to sit on the bed, she impatiently patted the place next to her and gazed at Cicero with her dark eyes, " . . . sit."

Cicero scowled and turned up his nose, "Horned-Sister talks to Cicero as much as the Night Mother, not at all! Why should Cicero do what she asks and says when he is so dutiful and she so negligent?"

Etcetera pondered whether Cicero was talking about her or the Night Mother now and patted the bed again, it was like trying to coax a cat to come.

Cicero glanced about again before huffing and, arms still folded firmly across his chest, he stiffly moved to sit next to the Dremora,

"What does she want with Cicero this time?"

Ah, he was speaking about Etcetera this time, the Dremora reached up and took Cicero's hat off and the jester visibly struggled with himself, as if he wanted very much to snatch his tailed-hat back but also wanted to keep his arms defiantly crossed. The dark-eyed woman reached up again and ran her fingers over Cicero's soft red hair, tucking it behind the man's ear and sighing heavily,

"Cicero."

The ginger slowly looked sideways up at Etcetera, "What?"

"Hush." Etcetera murmured, she continued to tangle her fingers in the shoulder-length tresses.

Cicero bit his lip and let his arms fall to his sides, " . . . Cicero lives to serve."

"Yes." Etcetera stopped stroking his hair and moved to stand only for the jester to grab desperately at her arm.

"No! Nonononono! Don't leave Cicero alone again! He doesn't like the quiet! Well, Horned-Sister does not speak very much, but-but Cicero does not want her to go!"

Etcetera blinked down at the small man and her face contorted slightly as she mulled over the idea of being near a human for more than was necessary then she sighed and moved to sit back down only to snarl when Cicero launched himself at her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist and nuzzling into her shoulder like a cat . . . an over-sized, mumbling cat.

But, unfortunately, Cicero didn't seem to notice her snarl of irritation and continued to snuggle against the rigid Dremora,

"Cicero doesn't like to be alone, Horned-Sister knows this, doesn't she? Yes, Cicero thinks she does . . . even though she likes to be left alone, he knows that she is lonely. Lonely like dear, sweet Cicero."

Etcetera sighed resignedly and leaned back on the headboard, glaring at the far wall for a moment then groaned and shifted to be more comfortable, tugging Cicero more onto her lap so her legs wouldn't be cramped under his surprisingly solid body.

Cicero looked uncertainly up at Etcetera for a moment then he reached up to tentatively trace one of the white tattoos on her face, Etcetera pulled back and her lip curled up in a snarl at Cicero but this didn't seem to deter the small man from stroking her cheek with his fingertips.

"Cicero wonders why Horned-Sister is so unhappy when she is so well-loved by the Family? Cicero misses the Family he had back Home, misses being talked to. Now Cicero does all the talking and Horned-Sister is unhappy and silent.z" he murmured, shifting a bit then putting his head back down on Etcetera's shoulder, large hazel eyes gazing up at the Dremora's face.

Etcetera closed her eyes and huffed, "I'm not."

Cicero's eyes widened and he hopped up to crouch in front of Etcetera, "She speaks! Oh, Horned-Sister, say something else! Anything at all! Please? Please, Cicero loves Horned-Sister's soft, rough voice so much, he wishes to hear it more, please? Please?"

Etcetera's brow furrowed and she grimaced, she was not used to being begged to speak, in her experience it was more often that silence saved her hide, she licked her lips absently then looked back at Cicero,

" . . . why?"

Cicero's whole face lit up excitedly and he dove back down to snuggle against the taller Dremora, "Oh! No reason, Sister dear, no reason at all! Cicero is just glad he has sway over his sister like this!"

Etcetera growled and pushed Cicero up, glaring into his beaming face, "Power? You do not have power over Etcetera the Eldest! How can such a tiny, weak human hold anything akin to power over me? You can't, you miserable, smiling fool!"

With that she threw him back on the bed and stood as if that proved her point only to whirl around at the sound of hysterical giggles,

"What is this? What is funny, human?" She demanded, grabbing onto the front of Cicero's motley.

Cicero smiled widely even as his eyes widened in what Etcetera told herself was fear, "See?"

Etcetera blinked then released Cicero disdainfully, "No, I do not see."

"This sister speaks when Cicero asks it of her." Cicero smiled and knelt on the bed, his hands gripping his knees, the ever-present smile on his face, "She will speak when Cicero wants her to."

Etcetera's brow furrowed deeply and she growled only to sigh heavily, and shake her head, "I do not understand you, little fool."

Cicero scooted closer until he was at the edge of the bed, his head tilting slightly to the side, "Sister, dear, sweet, sister, Cicero knows how lonely you are, how you long for Home and whoever it was you left behind, but . . . " Here Cicero bit his lip and looked away, reaching over for his hat and holding it in front of his face, "Homes burn down and are broken into, families age and waste away."

Etcetera blinked slowly and reached forward to take the hat from Cicero, she ran her fingers slowly over the worn material, then she squatted down to be eye-level with him, "You are a fool, Cicero, a mad, muttering, stupid fool . . . "

Cicero's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak only for Etcetera to shove the hat down on his head roughly, it fell over his eyes and mussed his hair. He wrestled it back off his eyes in time to see the Dremora stop in the doorway and sigh,

"But you are my fool." She said shortly and then she turned and left the room.

Cicero smiled and adjusted the cap on his head and settled back down on the bed, nuzzling his pillow, "All yours, Sister, all yours."