The Future of Skyrim, the Future of Tamriel

Sequel to Darkness Rises When Silence Dies

Loredas 13Frostfall 202 4E 6:00 PM

"Cicero, your hair is getting really long."

The Keeper and I were lounging on my bed in the Dawnstar Sanctuary. It has been two month since the murder of Emperor Titus Mede II and we had settled in well to our new home. The bounty from Armaund Motierre was very generous; more than enough to decorate our new home with plenty left over for emergency funds. Nazir was still a little pouty about me refusing to let him outfit a torture room, but overall things were going smoothly.

Cicero had just finished his bath and was dressed in his usual patched jester's motley. The Keeper smelled pleasantly of jasmine. I had been brushing out his long, fine red hair when I realized it now reached about three inches past his shoulders. "If you're not careful, someone might mistake you for a girl."

"Oh, Listener!" Cicero turned towards me and suddenly his mannerisms were that of a woman's. I don't mean that he was effeminate; I mean that he mimicked a woman exactly. I held my breath as Cicero timidly put his gloved hand under his chin and fluttered his long lashed eyes at me coyly. "Would Hecate hate me if I was a girl?" Cicero's normally high pitched voice slid into that of the female alto.

Cicero hopped off the bed and walked around to the other side where I was sitting. The jester even had the walk right. His movements were sultry and he moved his hips very suggestively. I swallowed nervously. With his hair falling forward and obscuring his face, Cicero was very easily passing as a girl. For Nord standards, Cicero was very small and lean in stature, adding to the illusion.

I've always had a weakness for redheads and found female redheads ten times more attractive than males. Lately I've been more attracted to women sexually and my complicated relationship with Cicero only exasperated my reaction.

Cicero placed one gloved hand on my knee and slowly slid it up the length of my thigh. My heart was thudding heavily and the heat in my chest was traveling quickly downward. Cicero climbed onto my lap and straddled me with his legs. "I'm just an innocent girl from a small village. I don't know the ways of the folk from the cities." The tone was shy and innocent.

Gloved fingers trailed up my arm making me want to shiver with pleasure. "Maybe you could help me learn," Cicero whispered in my ear, tickling me with his warm breath. Suddenly, the jester's right hand squeezed my breast twice. "Honk, honk!"

Cicero laughed madly and jumped backwards off my lap. "You fool!" I yelled laughing as I jumped up and ran after him. I had no idea the Fool of Hearts was so good at mimicry.

The Fool tore out of my room with me on his heels. Cicero took a hard turn and ran past Babette's room. The vampire child was exiting with some herbs and was almost run over as the jester tore past. "Hey, be careful!" she said, her tone much too old for her appearance.

As I followed, laughing as loudly as Cicero, we ran past Nazir's room. "Guys, calm down, it's late. You'd think they had been raised in a barn," the Redguard said affectionately to Babette.

The Initiates' bedroom door was open. Our lone recruit, a Khajiit, poked her head out. "Kittens must chase and run," Meena said amused. She shook her head causing her golden ringed braids to jingle softly. Her mottled fur was more like a domestic calico than one of the great cats like most Khajiit. Delvin Mallory, our contact in the Thieves' Guild, had pointed the catkin out to us.

"She's enthusiastic enough," the smooth voiced fence had said, "but unfortunately she's a bit bloodthirsty for us. The lass killed three of her five last jobs."

Cicero rounded into the common area with the large stain glass window that provided a secondary exit from the Sanctuary. He tumbled and cartwheeled to tease me since doing so slowed him down enough for me to think I could catch him but moved him about erratically enough I couldn't get a grasp.

"Get back here!" I laughed swiping and missing. It was good to hear laughter again in the Sanctuary. Things had been tense back in Pine Forest during the struggle for control between the Night Mother and Astrid. Then, after the Purification, not many of us felt like laughing. Cicero had laughed, but he always did and the Keeper had no love lost with the family who had died.

Cicero flipped and somersaulted around the common room. He had pulled out his jester's cap and placed it firmly on his head at some point during our scramble. As always, it didn't fall off no matter how much he jumped about.

When Cicero decided to run up the stairs towards the exit, I followed him. No doubt he would lure me outside and dunk me in the snow, but maybe I would manage to get one over him first. I was about to run past the Night Mother's coffin when I heard her unearthly voice in my mind.

"Daughter, approach me. I would speak with you," my matron commanded. I immediately stopped playing and walked over to the Night Mother's coffin. I dropped to one knee with my head bowed in reverence.

"Mother?" Cicero asked. He had come back when he saw I was no longer chasing him.

I held up a hand, "Shush, I'm Listening to Mother." Mother's voice continued with the details of our next contract. A Black Sacrament had been heard. It was up to the Children of the Night Mother to answer.

Tirdas 16 Frostfall 202 4E 11:00 PM

"And I said, 'That's not a horker. That's my wife!'" Cicero burst into a gale of laughter. Rolff Stone-Fist, the town drunk and brother to Galmar Stone-Fist, joined suit.

It was late in the Candlehearth Inn. Only a few patrons were still awake and fewer were drinking at this hour. Rolff seemed to not be stopping any time soon and eagerly accepted a refill of mead from Cicero.

I was nervous. Of our little family, Cicero was the only one I could use on this mission. Rolff was a known racist; he frequently trolled the Gray Quarters and the docks to sling curses and insult the Dunmers and Argonians. Nazir was taking care of the second half of our objective in Windhelm and it was too likely that Rolff would recognize me since he was the brother of Galmar Stone-Fist, Ulfric's second-in-command.

Cicero was more than capable of adopting a role for a scheme. After the Fool of Hearts' little stunt the other day, I had had Cicero adopt different personas for me. Each one was extremely convincing, especially with a little makeup and the right clothes. Thus posing as a rich merchant who loved to share jokes, mead, and a healthy dislike for the "lesser races" should be very simple. I only had to worry if some random factor would cause Cicero to flip out. One wrong look or too fast of a gesture and the jester might go on a murderous rampage.

If it had to happen, at least it would happen in Windhelm, my least favorite city in Skyrim.

Our contact had been Neetrenaza, the same Argonian I had helped negotiate reasonable wages for the lizardfolk from Torbjorn Shatter-Shield. I hadn't expected the wage increase would be used in such a manner.

"I'll tell you what," I offered, "instead of gold how about you owe us a favor? I might need cargo sent out or in on a boat with no questions."

Neetrenaza hesitated. It was a tempting offer, but risky. On one hand, it would save his kin a thousand septims which could go towards much better living standards and it might be a payment that would never come due. Yet, if I asked to move something dangerous, all of the dock worker Argonians could suffer. I waited patiently for Neetrenaza to decide. I had no personal investment in the matter and could take which ever payment the Argonian chose.

Finally, Neetrenaza nodded. "This is acceptable, land-strider." He had not recognized me under my cowl and mask.

Meena and I were sitting on the other side of the loft of the Candlehearth. We had been discretely watching Cicero ply Rolff with alcohol all night. Cicero had not drank any; instead he would gesture with his mug causing it to spill about or inconspicuously pour it out when Rolff was busy down his current mug. I thought it was interesting that I've never seen the Keeper drink liquor. There have been a few late nights were I would offer to share a bottle of wine and Cicero always demurred.

I was wearing the robes of a priestess of Talos. Windhelm was the only city in all of Skyrim that allowed open worship of the ascended god. No one would harass me and the hood kept my face in shadow. It was a struggle to not sit with my legs draped across the arms of my chair in my typical fashion.

Meena was wearing wizard's robes with similar concealing hood and long sleeves. Technically Khajiit were not allowed in most cities and definitely not in Windhelm, but the catkin could be clever about getting around anything that was supposed to keep them out.

There were few women out even during the daylight hours because of a serial killer known as the Butcher. He had been stalking the women of Windhelm for almost a year now and had recently claimed his fourth known victim. With the majority of Ulfric's army camped at the footstep of Whiterun, the local guards were spread very thin and unable to devote any attention to the serial killer. Instead they encouraged women to stay inside after dark and to only travel in groups.

Overall, this worked in the Brotherhood's favor. It allowed us to move more easily and I didn't have to worry about Ulfric or his inner circle recognizing me. On the other, it made the presence of females a little more memorable and there was always the off chance one of us could be targeted as the next victim.

I was pulled out of my train of thought when I saw Cicero flashing the signal that Rolff was drunk enough for our next phase. Meena nodded and stood up. She walked past the drunk, paused, and dropped her hood so her catlike features were easily visible. "This one is getting more drink. Would you like some more?"

My answer was unnecessary as Rolff turned drunkenly towards our Khajiit. "Hey, your kind ain't welcome here, furball," he slurred.

"This one does not like your attitude, Nord," Meena hissed. The other patrons turned towards the raised voices, curious at the commotion.

"I'll what whatever I damn well please, cat." Rolff managed to stumble to his feet and raised his hands into fists. "In fact, a hundred septims says I can beat your ass."

Meena grinned, displaying her sharp predator teeth. "This one accepts the foul smelling one's challenge." The Khajiit raised her furred hands with claws extended. Rolff's eyes widened in horror as he realized too late that Khajiit were much better equipped at hand-to-hand than men were. Before the Nord could back out, Meena delivered a quick one-two combo that left the drunk unconscious on the ground. Blood seeped onto ground from the claw wounds Meena had left on Rolff's face.

I frowned slightly. It was unnecessary for Meena to have wounded Rolff that way and she knew I didn't want him bloodied for our next step. Delvin had been right about Meena being bloodthirsty.

Cicero jumped to his feet feigning rage. "Damn cat! Ulfric was right about your kind. Get out of here before I call in the guard." The redheaded man stood over the fallen Rolff as if to defend the fallen man, but I noticed Cicero kick the Nord in the back of the head. I shook my head in frustration. If those two screwed this up, I was going to give them both a piece of my mind.

Meena hissed, but left as planned. The other patrons were muttering amongst themselves. I stood up and walked over. "'I'm terribly sorry about that. How about we help your friend get home?" When Cicero and I bent over to pick up Rolff, I mouthed, "Behave," to the Keeper. Cicero merely shrugged, unapologetic as always. Between the two of us, we easily lifted the Nord although his feet dragged behind him. Waving off any assistance from any would be helpers, the Keeper and I dragged Rolff off to his death.

Middas 17 Frostfall 202 4E 12:00 AM

It was time.

Nazir had been waiting for us in the nearby residence we had chosen for the murder to take place. "You sure about this?" the Redguard had asked.

I had nodded, but to be honest I wasn't. I had no idea what the old methods of recruiting had been like. My studies with Festus Krex hadn't covered that particular subject. Who knew how much Astrid had modified recruitment to keep her small family safe from discovery and to only include people who would be obedient to her?

"It didn't matter who you killed; only that you did when I told you to," her sultry voice stamped into my mind. For all her faults, Astrid had been a strong leader until her paranoia had given one of the Brotherhood's oldest enemies a chance to destroy us. And they had almost succeeded.

Nazir and Cicero were no help in this matter. Nazir had been recruited by Astrid and Cicero's memories tended to be erratic. He could remember the name and face of every member of his Cheydinhal family, but he would barely recall events from the week before. Babette might be able to help me, since she was over three hundred years old. However, the vampire child had been keeping to herself a lot lately. I knew she felt comfortable in the ancient Dawnstar Sanctuary, but the immortal was still dealing with her complicated emotions of her adopted family dying.

Babette claimed that she did not feel sorrow for her fallen siblings. Instead their murders made her aware of her own vulnerability to being killed. Vampires did not fear much, but fire is the ancient tool of the righteous for killing monsters and Falkreath Sanctuary had burned. Only by luck, Babette had been out that night search for flowers for her alchemy. No doubt Babette had seen many of her associates age and die over the years. I don't know if that is something one can get used to and be considered anything similar to sane, but Babette seemed very well adjusted for an eternal childlike blood drinking immortal. So I let her be.

As Cicero and I dumped Rolff into a chair, Meena came into the house. The Khajiit had done a lap around Windhelm just in case our little display had caused anyone to follow her and cause trouble. "Meena did good, yes?"

"Ooooh, yes! Miss Kitty did very well, very well indeed," Cicero agreed as he shrugged out of his merchant garb. Unmindful of his audience, the fool dropped his pants to change back into his familiar jester's clothes. Nazir grumbled while he secured Rolff with rope. Meena's eyes lingered on Cicero's nakedness a little too long for my taste.

As Cicero straightened from shucking his unwanted costume, I leaned over and gave him a light kiss on the lips. "You did well tonight as well, Keeper." Cicero's flight from Pine Forest had some unforeseen benefits. The Keeper was more comfortable leaving the Night Mother for long periods of time and I was more willing to show little signs of affection.

"Cicero did! Cicero told jokes and stories for the nasty Nord just as the Listener asked," the jester beamed.

"Rolff's ready," Nazir said rolling his eyes. Although the Redguard had accepted Cicero's return without batting an eye, Nazir still maintained his dislike for acrobats, tumblers and the like. Cicero's dancing and singing at a whim seemed to cause Nazir's right eye to tic uncontrollably.

I nodded and left the main room to the small bedroom off the kitchen. Our recruit was curled up on his bed sleeping. I knelt by the small figure and placed my hand on his thin shoulder. Shaking gently, I said, "Wake up, Aventus. It's time."

Large brown eyes fluttered open. For a second, they're wide and searching for danger, but then they focused and Aventus smiled timidly at me. "Am I going to be an assassin?"

"Yes," my heart was thudding in my chest. I was asking such a huge thing of a child. "You just have to prove you can kill someone for me."

"And I'll have a new family?" Aventus' face was so sincere. The boy had not returned to Honorhall. A combination of his fear of the new matron being just like Grelod the Kind and not wanting to leave his family's home had caused Aventus to stay in Windhelm. Using the coins I had left with him, Aventus had been surviving, but just barely. A boy needs friends and a family and Windhelm was not the place to find them. When I nodded, Aventus said, "I want to be a Dark Brotherhood assassin. I want to help people like you helped me."

I took the child's hand and led him into the main room where Rolff was tied up. The drunk was slowly waking. "That is the man you have to kill," I said.

Aventus looked shocked. "I know that man," he stammered. "He's at the Candlehearth a lot."

I knelt by Aventus. "I know. But he's a bad man. Rolff hates anyone who isn't a Nord. He hates Imperials, Redguards, and Khajiit," I gestured to each of my companions in turn. "Rolff especially hates Dunmer and Argonians. He spends a lot of time with his friends throwing garbage at them and cursing them for nothing more than existing."

"Little boy, don't listen to that woman. Run, get help!" Rolff struggled uselessly against his bonds. I hated the cuts and bruises on his face. The sight could only add to Rolff's words and was why I hadn't wanted the man marked.

"Aventus, I won't make you do it if you can't, but you need to know Rolff's crimes," I continued ignoring the Nord. "Rolff has gone past simply taunting what he considers lesser races with his superiority. A couple of weeks ago, Rolff killed an Argonian named Shahvee. She was a kind and gentle soul who saw only the good in life. She smiled when others couldn't because she wanted to be happy more than sad." In the corner of my eye, I saw Cicero twitch at these words. "Shahvee was supposed to marry another Argonian named Neetrenaza. Rolff saw Shahvee in the city one night and killed her because he thought a 'dirty lizard' didn't deserve to be within city limits. Shahvee was supposed to be married the next day."

Rolff continued to strain against his bonds and scream for help. Aventus looked very scared and uncertain. I placed an iron dagger in the boy's hands. "If you do this, it won't be easy for you or him. Rolff will bleed and beg and it will probably take a long time." I looked Aventus directly in the eyes, "And he deserves it."

I stepped away from the boy and waited. I smiled encouragingly. I had told Aventus all I could about the situation. If he had any questions, I would answer them, but I would not force the matter. It was the boy's choice.

Aventus looked at the frothing Rolff then my siblings. Nazir with his arms crossed nodded his own encouragement to the boy. Both Cicero and Meena had large, toothy grins. Sometimes I thought that they got along as well as they did because Meena was as crazy as Cicero. Or Cicero was as mad as a Khajiit. It was one of the two. The fool did speak in third person like the sand folk. Even with their evil grins, my group did look much more civil than Rolff who was cursing incoherently.

Aventus looked back at me. His face was set, "I want to be a Dark Brotherhood assassin. I want to help people," he repeated. The child stepped up to Rolff and started stabbing. At first his strikes were hesitant, but eventually there was a rhythm. Rolff died poorly, just as Neetrenaza had requested.

Turdas 18 Frostfall 202 4E 9:00 PM

"We did it! We did it!" Cicero and I danced in a circle, stomping our feet in time. As usual, we danced to music only the Fool of Hearts heard. For a long time I had stumbled and tripped not knowing the song, but now I moved as one with Cicero.

Aventus, his eyes twinkling with amusement, watched the two of us acting like fools. After killing Rolff, the boy had crawled into my lap and cried for almost an hour. I had sent the rest of the Brotherhood to look for rumors and secure our exit.

Most of the news was about the Civil War. Ulfric had been campaigning against Whiterun all summer. Balgruuf had managed to maintain control of his hold. Winter was coming fast and soon Ulfric would have to choose between keeping up his siege and falling back to more secure outposts. There were great risks and rewards on both sides. If Ulfric stayed on the field, he had a better chance of taking Whiterun sooner. If he fell back, he didn't risk his army to the bitter winter as much. Odds were in favor of Ulfric staying in the field. It would show Tamriel the hardiness and determination of the "true sons" of Skyrim.

"They are calling for the Dragonborn," Meena had said looking at me meaningfully. There had been two policies I had established with officially becoming the leader of the Brotherhood. My family would know I was the Dragonborn. I still wanted to hide it from the rest of the world; I felt the image of the savior of reality shouldn't be sullied with that of a murderer for hire. I felt no shame in the life I lived now, but many would not. Second, Cicero was to come with me on recruitments. Newcomers had to accept the Keeper if they were to join us. I would not have a repeat of Falkreath where my Fool was an outcast amongst misfits.

"They can keep looking," I had said simply.

Upon returning to Dawnstar, Nazir had broken out the alcohol. It was time to celebrate! We had successfully carried out our Mother's will and acquired a new brother. When Meena had joined us, we had drunk ourselves sick. Tonight was a little more restrained so far. I had drunk about three glasses of wine and was feeling the effects.

I pressed myself up against Cicero and we switched to the body grinding dance of the Bretons. "I really should cut your hair soon," I said. I loved how it curled slightly and bounced up and down as we moved. Suddenly bold, I whispered, "I've missed you in my bed."

Since coming to Dawnstar, Cicero had been given his own room. Except for that first night after murdering Emperor Titus Mede II, Cicero had not slept beside me like he used to in Falkreath. I had waited the first several weeks, expecting to wake with the Fool of Hearts beside me, but I never did. I wondered if Cicero had truly only shared a room with me before because it was the only solution acceptable for my status or if there was another motive. And why crawl into my bed when he had his own then?

"Hecate is only bold after drinking," Cicero smiled slyly.

"Is that bad?" I pouted.

"No," Cicero laughed, "Cicero won't refuse Hecate. Cicero won't refuse the Listener." Gloved hands circled my waist crushing me against his velvet clothes. "Cicero doesn't want Hecate to be full of regret afterwards."

Everything was falling away. Nazir and Meena drinking. Aventus watching us. All I could see was my target, those expressive amber eyes pulling me into the abyss. Oh gods, I was going to let go like Cicero was always tell me to.

"Good evening, everyone," Babette said. Suddenly I was back and I pulled away from Cicero to approach our oldest little sister. "Did you kill well?"

"Aventus did," I said gesturing to our newest brother. Aventus looked happy to see someone similar to his age. "Brother, this is Babette, she's a…."

"Alchemist!" Babette interrupted. "I'm an alchemist."

I gave the Breton a sharp look. Babette returned a desperate look. I mentally shrugged, "That's right. Babette knows about potions and poisons, so if you need either, I'm sure she'll help if you ask nicely."

"Oh, wow," Aventus smiled. "I thought I would be the only kid here. I'm really glad. The adults were getting kinda boring."

"I know how it is," Babette said smiling shyly in return.

"Do you wanna play?"

"Sure. I can show you some neat stuff about this place," Babette offered. As the "children" ran off to play, I frowned. I would need to be sure to talk to Babette later.

"Nazir, it looks like everyone is pairing up except us," Meena lashed her tail meaningfully. She grinned suggestively at the Redguard.

"No, just no," Nazir replied. He drained his mug, "At least not until I've had more mead."

I laughed and looked to share the joke with Cicero. The Keeper smiled back. I pressed my back against Cicero and he circled his arms around me. We slowly started to sway together as if nothing had interrupted us. "What do you want?" he breathed into my ear.

"To dance with you," I answered.

"As the Listener commands," Cicero responded. I could feel him smile against my hair. Tomorrow, maybe tomorrow. We had all the time in the world.