It had been a month since the Penitus Oculatus had taken their final stand against the Dark Brotherhood. With Maro buried alive, the threat plaguing the Dawnstar Sanctuary had finally come to an end.

With the safe return of the Keeper, the Night Mother's voice had once again appeared in the Listener's head. He was congratulated for proving his worthiness to lead the Dark Brotherhood. With this victory came an important lesson. Sometimes there were reasons to abide by the Old Ways, no matter what personal feelings one had for his friends.

Even though the jester was a dear, loyal and efficient companion for KaNack, the incident with Commander Maro made him realize that his safety was more important that the mage's own wants. With a heavy heart, the Listener decided to no longer allow his beloved fool to accompany him on any more contracts. He instead would remain in the safety of Dawnstar.

With the loss of his jester as a follower, KaNack took Shaleez under his wing to continue her training in the fine arts of destruction magic, just as Festus had done with him. She was making great progress, and with any luck, might be running her own sanctuary after a few years of practice.

Cicero in the end did miss the thrill of going out on adventures and getting to send new souls to the Void, but he was happy and remembered that as Keeper for the Night Mother he was no longer meant to take on contracts.

KaNack entered through the Black Door and brushed some newly fallen snow from his Dark Brotherhood mage robes as his two other companions followed him inside.

"You need a little more work on aiming your lightning, but I have to say that you are making progress, Shaleez."

The younger Argonian smiled at her leader and then turned to the Spectral Assassin as she crossed her arms.

"It didn't help that Lucien was staring over my shoulder the whole time."

"Trust me, you get used to it," the mage chuckled. "He'll soon become your eyes and ears. He helped mold me into the killer I am today. He's your voice of reason and wisdom, and soon he'll become a part of you." He stared at Lucien. "A rather judgmental part of you, but he means well."

The trio made their way down the stairs and KaNack walked over towards the Night Mother's shrine. Cicero was humming happily to himself as he wiped the coffin with a rag to keep it looking clean. The fool jumped with joy as he saw the mage make his way over to him.

"Listener!" he chirped. "Home again! Home again! It's been a while since we've seen you!"

"Had a contract all the way over in Riften," started KaNack. He then glared at the spirit. "Then somebody thought it would be a good idea for Shaleez to start practicing her magic on random strangers."

"Practice does make perfect," Lucien answered simply.

"Oh, Lucien!" laughed Cicero. "Such a funny specter!"

KaNack rubbed his hands together and grinned at his companions.

"Well, it's the end of the month, you know what that means."

"Pay day?" asked Shaleez as she bounced in excitement.

"Pay day," confirmed the mage. "Come on, guys. Cicero you too!"

"Of course, Listener! Cicero was just thinking he was running low on coin!"

The group made its way down the stairs to the large center room where Nazir and the others had already gathered. Once they had all taken their seats, the Redguard spoke up.

"Despite a minor setback last month, I am pleased to say that this was one of our most profitable months yet! I don't know why, but winter just seems to bring out the bloodlust in people."

KaNack and the others knocked on the wooden table in applause. Nazir held up his hands for silence before continuing.

"This reminds me of another winter a few years back. I had just been assigned to poison the Jarl of Markarth's minstrels, and…"

"Gold…Gold…Gold…" Vytalas started to chant as he pounded a fist on the table. Slowly all the others joined in until a frenzied 'Gold' chant started and the table rumbled from the many fists hitting it.

"Fine! Alright, I get your point!" snapped Nazir. He rolled his eyes and looked over at the Spectral Assassin. "Did you have to put up with this nonsense back in your day?"

"In my day?" Lucien asked. "Of course not."

"Thank you!" the Redguard exclaimed as he glared at the others. "See? Why don't we all take a moment to reflect…"

"In my day, we threw daggers if we grew restless for pay."

The room erupted in laughter as the assassins continued to pound on the table in glee. KaNack finally held up his hands and the others calmed down.

"Come on Nazir! Stop wasting time! We have septims to spend!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," muttered the older assassin. He reached under the table and picked up a wooden crate that was filled with coin purses. He pulled out a large one and hurled it at the Argonian. "Here KaNack, you greedy bastard!"

"Love you too," the mage snickered as he opened the bag and pulled out a single gold septim. Slowly, the Redguard distributed all the coin purses until there was only a single, small one left.

"Finally, the jester." He hurled the bag over and the fool reached over snatched it from the air.

"Cicero thanks you!"

KaNack stared at the coin purse in confusion. "That's a lot smaller than I remember it being. You can't have lost that much just by not going on contracts anymore." He glared at the Redguard. "Nazir, quit holding out on Cicero!"

"I'm not holding out on anyone!" barked the Redguard. "He insisted that half of it be sent to Cyrodiil to a…" He paused and looked back to the fool. "What was her name again?"

"Oh, her name's not important. It's Cicero's mother," the jester answered.

Everyone stopped counting their septims, and slowly turned to stare at the jester as though he had grown another head. Cicero noticed this and laughed loudly.

"No! No! Not the Night Mother! She's quite dead! What could she possible do with Cicero's gold?" The Fool of Hearts shook his head still chuckling. "No, this is Cicero's real mother."

"I…" started KaNack. "I had no idea she was still living. I just assumed…"

"Oh, Listener never asked," answered Cicero. "Yes, my mother is going through hard times. Cicero's gold should help her."

Lucien stared at the jester puzzled, and then narrowed his eyes as his lips thinned.

"Look at that! An assassin, a Keeper and the face of generosity! I am inspired!" KaNack laughed as he stood from his seat. "We should all take a page from Cicero's book and follow his example!"

The Argonian pointed towards the stairwell.

"To the Windpeak Inn!" he announced. "First rounds are on Nazir!"

"Wait a minute, what?!"

A chorus of 'huzzah's filled the chamber as all the assassins got up and started for the door, thirsty and eager for a good time.

"Hey! Stop! I didn't agree to anything! Dammit, don't ignore me!" the Redguard barked as he chased after the young initiates.

"Thanks Nazir!" chimed Kaie.

"I'm not paying for your drinks!"

KaNack laughed loudly and clapped his hands in amusement as he saw the frantic Redguard go after the next generation of assassins. Babette shook her head before smiling at him.

"You're so mean."

"All in good fun," snickered KaNack. "Will you be joining us Babette?"

"Why not? Come on, I'll let you buy an older woman a drink."

Argonian offered her his arm like a gentleman, and the smaller girl took it.

"Lucien! Cicero! You too! Come on!"

"Spirits with the spirit!" laughed Cicero. "A joke! A funny joke!"

"We'll be right with you, Listener," Lucien said quietly. "The Keeper and I need a word."

"Okay," started KaNack. "Don't take too long. Those young ones look to you for discipline. I can't guarantee that they won't start using the bard's flute as a dart before you get there."

"When you say the young ones, do you really mean yourself?" sighed the Spectral Assassin.

"Exactly!" KaNack laughed.

"I'm sure you'll manage somehow."

The Argonian and vampire vanished up the stairs to join the rest of their family at the local inn. Cicero turned to the Spectral Assassin, still grinning.

"Tell me what is on the kindly specter's mind."

Lucien glared at Cicero as he shook his head.

"Cicero, you know as well as I do that your mother has been dead for the last thirty years."

The smile vanished from the jester and he scowled at the floor.

"Was the book not a good enough trophy? You had to take his mother as well?"

"That is no trophy," the jester grumbled. "It is Cicero trying to make amends for Kind Finn." The fool glared at the spirit. "I have taken many lives with glee. It was thrilling! Satisfying!" The jester pulled the small yellow book from his boot and looked at it sadly. "With Finn, Cicero got no pleasure. Only pain."

"If you hadn't done it, the Listener would have. Why are you doing this? You're not one known for his charity."

"Finn was a terrible soldier and would have made a worse assassin," Cicero muttered. "But he was a good friend and an even better son. He cared for his mother, how could Cicero just let his mother suffer because he chose the wrong side?"

"We're killers!" snapped Lucien. "We take lives! What do we care who else gets hurt? If we tried to make amends for every life we took, the Dark Brotherhood would not be able to stay alive! Forget about that boy! He was just another soul for the Void"

"He was NOT just another soul!" Cicero snarled at the ghost as he slammed his fist on the table furiously. "Finn was Cicero's friend! I would have died long before you or the Listener got there if not for him!" The jester panted as he scowled at the Spectral Assassin.

"If there was any other way, Cicero would have tried to make it work! We had no choice! No single Penitus Oculatus could be left alive! I understood that, and I took care of it! That does not mean I enjoyed it!"

Cicero head lowered as he looked at the book sadly. "I just wanted to make things right. If that means Cicero pretends to be another Imperial's son, then so be it. No one else should get hurt. Not people like them." He scowled at Lucien with resentment. "You didn't know him, you could not possibly understand."

The Spectral Assassin sighed as he took a seat next to the jester. "I've never seen you react like this to a kill. Perhaps it was for the best that he was your last life to take."

"There's no guarantee of that. If Cicero has to kill again, he will," the fool growled. He then got a look of sorrow in his eyes and turned to face Lucien. "Have you seen him in the Void? Kind Finn?"

"I have."

The jester stared at the spirit expectantly. Lucien shut his eyes and realized that this was important to his Keeper.

"He's not mad, if that's what you're wondering," the ghost muttered. "He's more confused than anything else. He trusted you Cicero, and you betrayed that trust with a warm embrace."

Cicero gently opened up the riddle book as he read through a few of the brainteasers. "Can you give him a message for me?"

"That's against the rules, you know that," Lucien growled. "I can't take anything to the Void with me that is not mine to give. Not even a friend's wishes. You will just have to learn to live with your actions."

Lucien got out of his seat placed a comforting hand on the jester's shoulder. "Do what you always do. Crack a joke about your kill, and move on."

"It's hard."

"We all have had to make kills that we did not agree with. If we always let our conscious get the better of us, none of us could make it as assassins."

The ghost managed to pull the Keeper out of his chair and began to lead him up the stairs. "Come along, a stiff drink might be just what you need."

The two made their way out into the snow storm that was blowing through Dawnstar. They fought the elements and managed to make their way to the warm security of the Windpeak Inn. Inside, they found all their companions, no longer in their Dark Brotherhood garb, but their fancy clothes. KaNack was standing on top of a table with a huge mug of ale in his hand. The others had drinks as well, with Nazir at the bar looking rather miserable as he pulled out his coin purse.

Thoring took Nazir's money and then saw Lucien enter with Cicero. "Oh no, that ghost is back!" He pointed at the specter angrily. "Hey! Shoo! You are going to scare away all my costumers!"

KaNack stopped laughing as did all the other members of the Dark Brotherhood. Menacing eyes stared holes into the Nord as the inn became silent as the grave.

"I'm sorry," started the mage with a hiss, "did you just tell my friend to 'Shoo'?"

"He is one of us," growled Dro'marash. "One of our brothers."

"You'd better apologize," Nazir muttered from his spot at the bar as he sipped his ale. Thoring stared at the Redguard. "Things might start to get ugly. Ugly is never a good thing with these guys."

The Nord held up his hands as he realized that now more than half of his costumers were turning on him, and they did not look like the type that used their words to settle disagreements.

"Sorry! I don't know what I was thinking! No! No! It's fine! He can stay!"

"Smart man, that's what I'd thought you'd say," KaNack grumbled. "Now get my jester a sweet roll and some mead!"

The innkeeper mumbled to himself as he left for the pantry.

The innkeeper's daughter was Dawnstar's resident bard and could usually be found singing in the inn. This time however she was mingling. She was settled at a table with another bard who had been traveling across Skyrim. He was a strong blond Nord and was showing her his lute proudly.

"Yeah, I've been called the greatest bard in the entire Pale," he boasted.

"Really, Sven?" Karita muttered, not at all impressed.

"Of course! Why would I lie? Want to hear a favorite of mine?"

"Sure why not?" she sighed with a roll of her eyes. She figured that his playing might at least drown out the banter of the resident idiots drinking at the inn.

Sven stood from the table and positioned his lute as he started to play a few notes.

"We drink to our youth, and to days come and gone.
For the age of oppression is now nearly done."

Karita's eyes widened, and she motioned frantically with her hands as she looked in KaNack's general direction.

"Sven! No! Not that one!"

"We'll drive out the Empire from this land that we own.
With our blood and our steel we will take back our home."

KaNack looked over at Sven, still perched atop the table. His eyes narrowed as he recognized the tune.

"All hail to Ulfric! You are the High King!
In your great honor we drink…"

Sven screamed as his lute suddenly burst into flames. He dropped the instrument, and jumped away from it. He looked back over at the group and saw the Argonian with a palm forward, still smoking from the fire bolt he had cast.

"Ulfric Stormcloak is dead! Long live the Empire!" he roared as he raised a fist in the air.

"Long live the Empire!" the others cheered with raised mugs.

"Get out of here with that mess you call a lute! We don't need bards singing honor to that fat racist bastard! Out!"

The Nord could not scramble out of the Windpeak Inn fast enough. KaNack laughed heartily as did the others, and mugs were clinked together in triumph. The Argonian looked down from the table and saw Lucien glaring up at him. The Spectral Assassin's arms were crossed and he frowned at the mage in disappointment.

"Uhh, for the Empire?" he stated meekly.

"A great shot Listener!" Cicero exclaimed as he joined Lucien's side. "That lute did not stand a chance to your might!" The jester then began to dance. "Ho! Ho! Ho! Hee! Hee! Hee! Break that lute across my knee!"

The other Dark Brotherhood members clapped and laughed as they sang along with Cicero.

"And if the bard should choose to fight!" they all cried out in unison. "Why then we'll set his clothes ALIGHT!"

The Brotherhood released another loud 'Huzzah' before drinking from their mugs again.

The spirit rolled his eyes with a sigh. The jester interrupted him as he had tried to remind KaNack about retaining discipline. He had no reason for doing so at this point; the Fool of Hearts had won all of them over. Now there was pride instead of shame for their actions.

Thoring returned, carrying a tray that had a sweet roll and a bottle of mead. He saw the group celebrating and placed the tray on a table nearby the Keeper.

"What happened? Where did Sven go?"

"Don't ask," his daughter sighed. Being a bard was really hard in Dawnstar. Some people booed musicians when they did not like the songs played; here one's instrument got turned into kindling.

Vytalas grinned and raised his mug of ale high as did all the others.

"To the assassination of the lute!" the archer cheered as he held up his mug. There was a chorus of 'huzzah' in response to the Dark Elf.

"To getting paid!" added Nazir and his toast was cheered for as well.

"To Buddy!" KaNack laughed as he pointed at the Spectral Assassin.

"Listener," Lucien growled in a warning tone.

"To Buddy!" laughed the others before releasing a booming round of applause as their leader danced on top of the table.

"To Finn!" Cicero suddenly called out as he held up his bottle of mead.

KaNack looked at the jester in confusion, and then shrugged his shoulders. The Argonian was getting fairly drunk as was everyone else.

"Sure, why not? To Finn!"

"TO FINN!" all the Brotherhood members cheered loudly before downing their ale. The jester released a small smile before taking a drink.

"To Finn, indeed," he whispered quietly.