The Keeper and The Listener: Drabble 1 (?)

    Why?

    Why did it have to be you, of all people?

    And why did it have to be Cicero?

    You tightened your grip on Shadowmere's reins, willing him to go as fast as his feet could carry him.  Astrid had, of course, ordered you to go and find Arnbjorn, if he was even alive, and to kill Cicero.  No questions asked.  The more you thought about it, the more your guts tied themselves in knots.  Even though you were in the "Family" of the Dark Brotherhood, the only person you ever actually felt close to was Cicero, especially after discovering you were the Listener to his Keeper.

    Another fear set in your heart: What if Cicero was already killed by Arnbjorn?  You could feel your stomach in your throat and your eyes began to burn. 

    That just couldn't be true, could it?

    The farther north you rode, the more snow pelted you and Shadowmere relentlessly.  You were both thankful and angry that Astrid had sent you on this mission: Thankful because you would be able to find Cicero and know if he was alive or not.  Angry because, regardless of how you find him, he was supposed to end up dead.
    
    After almost half a day of riding, Dawnstar finally peeked out from the snowy coast.  Guards gave you odd looks as Shadowmere stomped through the dark waters and around the coastline, around to the Dawnstar Sanctuary you had read about in Cicero's journals.  The scent of blood reached your nostrils and Shadowmere came to an abrupt stop, giving you a split second to jump from his saddle to the ground.

    Your eyes followed a trail of the red liquid over to a crumpled Arnbjorn whom was barely breathing.

    "Arnbjorn!"  You knelt down next to him and shook him gently.  "Arnbjorn, stay with me.  C'mon, look at me."

    The Werewolf let out a painful groan before opening his eyes and looking at you.  "Oh, figures Astrid would send you..."  He gave you a weak smile, and you began to sift through your potions.  "That freak is in there, and I managed to give him one good hit before he got me," Arnbjorn informed, "You gotta put this freak down, Listener."

    You had to hide your discomfort when he used the word 'freak' to describe Cicero, instead you handed him the potion while you placed your hand over his rather large wound.  After a few moments of concentration the soft golden glow of your Healing magic began to immediately mend the Werewolf.  "You should get back to Astrid.  She's worried."  You were snappy, and you knew it.  This whole mission Astrid had sent you on put you in a real sour mood.

    "Alright..," you began to stand once you were finished healing him, "I'll go.  But, (Name)," he reached out and grabbed your wrist, clutching it with a serious look on his face, "be careful in there.  This fool is, for lack of better words, no joke."

    You gave a curt nod before moving to the door of the Dawnstar Sanctuary.
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    You collapsed next to the body of the frost troll Cicero had so kindly left for you.  After all of the traps, ghosts, and troll you honestly felt like crying like a child.  Your body ached and you had several wounds that would need at least a week to heal, even with magic.  You attempted to push yourself up, only to have your arms give out and you fall to the ground with a pathetic cry.

    "Cicero..."  It came out a gentle cry, for that was all you could manage.

    "All I need... I need to know is if you're okay..."  You began to crawl across the gravel and snow, the black and red of your Dark Brotherhood armor becoming dirty with sticky blood and sandy dirt.  Your hood had been ripped off your head while fighting the frost troll, and now your hair sprawled around you like a halo, the tips becoming dirtier and dirtier as you dragged yourself across the ground.  However, that was the last thing on your mind. 

    Finally you rolled yourself into the room Cicero had barred himself in.  It was becoming increasingly harder for you to breathe, but you pushed yourself up to your feet anyway.  He was directly across the room from you, and you could barely make out his features in the dim light of the torches and candles.  He was facing the ceiling and apparently hadn't noticed you.

    You took a step forward and blood gushed from the left side of your abdomen, oozing through your fingers as you desperately tried to slow the bleeding.  Your health wasn't your priority, his was.  "Ci... Cicero," you almost pleaded.

    The closer you got, the worse the wound Arnbjorn had inflicted looked.  Cicero's motley was stained dark red, and half of his shirt was torn to shreds thanks to the Werewolf's claws.  His breathing was labored and sharp, and finally the tears in your eyes made themselves known.

    You were only a few feet away from him when you collapsed to your knees.  "Cicero..."  You reached out to him, however he shrunk away from you, madness in his eyes.

    "Oh, Listener!  I see you have survived!"  He seemed nervous as he spoke, inching away from you.  The pain was evident on his face, but he still decided to grin through it.  

    "Cicero, I-"

    "Kill me or don't, Listener... The power is yours."

    A pang of guilt rushed through you.  He knew that's exactly what you were here to do: End his life.  You stared down at your gloved hands and knew that the ultimate decision had to be made.

    "But spare poor Cicero and a friend you will have!  Oh, such a friend... Until we enter the Void..."  He was fading fast, and if you waited any longer it wouldn't matter if you killed him or not, he would die anyway.

    "Cicero," you reached out to him again, "I don't want to kill you..."  The pain from your abdomen shot through you and you hunched over forward.  Cicero watched you with curiosity and slight bewilderment, but still kept his distance.

    So many things were running through you.  You were scared.  Scared for Cicero to be alone in the Void.  Scared you were going to be left in this world without him.  However he would be fine if you were the one to die, for he still had the Night Mother, so he would never be truly alone.  A decision had ultimately been made: Cicero would live.  You slipped your hand into your bag and felt around for your last health potion.  After retrieving it, you dragged yourself closer to Cicero.

    "Listener, what are you doing?" you heard him ask, but dared not try to answer it.  Your answer would have sounded crazy out loud, even to someone as mad as Cicero.

    You slipped your hands under his head and neck and placed him gently on your lap.  He only stared at you, both exhaustion and pain settling on his face.  His face deserved a smile, not a pained scowl.  You could feel your vision becoming hazy from tears and dizziness.  "O-Open up, Cicero."

    He stared at the potion before glancing at you.  "Listener... Isn't going to kill Cicero?"  You shook your head, a soft smile playing on your lips.  "Listener is sparing poor Cicero?"  A nod came from you and your lower lip began to tremble, which you hoped went unnoticed by the jester.

    Cicero obediently parted his lips and drank the health potion quick.  Once the bottle was empty, he let out a content sigh.  "Alright, now Listener must drink a potion, too!"  Oh, his smile was back!  

    A choked sob stuck in your throat.  

    "Listener?  You must drink a potion and remain Cicero's friend until the end of time!  Until the Dread Lord calls us to the void!"  He tried to sit up, but the wound was still incredibly fresh and caused him to collapse back onto your lap.

    "Shh, Cicero..."  Your hand hovered over his wound and glowed faintly as you healed him.  Your breathing became short and heavy.  'I must have gotten poisoned from one of those traps earlier...  I can feel it setting in...'

    "Listener... Doesn't have another potion, does she?"

    You shook your head in response.

    "She gave Cicero her only potion..?"  Cicero's voice became softer, realization of the situation becoming all too clear.

    "Yes, I did." 

    "Why would she do that for poor Cicero?"  You glanced up at his face and noticed all traces of his smile were gone, and that devastated you.

    You placed a hand on his pale cheek and everything became so much harder to deal with.  How could you have come to love someone so much in such a short time?  Even if the affection wasn't reciprocated, you knew where your heart was, and that was with the Fool of Hearts himself.  Your tears began to pool over your lower lashes and they landed with little 'plips' on Cicero's motley.

    You pulled your right hand away from his abdomen, a fresh scar covering the once grotesque wound.  "Why would Listener give Cicero her last potion and not take it herself?" he asked again, something that sounded like panic laced in his words.  He pushed himself up into a sitting position just as you collapsed backwards against the stone wall of the room.

    "To... To see my jester smile."

    Cicero furrowed his brows together in confusion, "What?"

    "That's the last thing I want to see before I-"

    "Don't you say that!"  Cicero felt like screaming and kicking and crying.  "It's Cicero's fault... I brought the troll in to stop you and I set the traps and... Now Listener is dying!"

    "Shh, Cicero," you smiled weakly, "It's not your fault.  This is just how fate decided.  You did nothing wrong."

    "But..."  Cicero's lower lip began to tremble,  "But Cicero finally had a friend..."  

    You felt your heart break into a million tiny pieces.  You couldn't leave him here alone...  That would be selfish.  And cruel.  You pictured the two of you exploring Skyrim together.  No Night Mother, no Astrid, no contracts.  You envisioned high mountains, vast oceans, and all of them had Cicero by your side, whether it be as companions or something more.  All that mattered is that he was there, and so were you.  Pain ricocheted through your body and your head began to fall forward.  Reaching out for Cicero was the last thing you remember doing before he was gone from your sight.

    "Listener?  Listener!  Wake up!"
___________________________________________________________________

    "Is she going to be okay, Nazir?"

    "She'll be just fine, Babette.  Just let her rest."

    Voices floated around your head like little pixies and your eyes fluttered open.  You looked around and noticed you were back in your chambers at the Falkreath Sanctuary.  Babette, whom was sitting on the edge of your bed, gasped and called Nazir over.  "Look, look!  She's awake!"

    You sat up and massaged your temples, the pain attacking your head.  "Ugh... What happened?"

    Nazir came to your side and offered you a bottle of mead, "Well, we were wondering the same thing when Shadowmere raced up to the door with and unconscious Listener on his back."

    "Turns out you were poisoned.  Pretty badly, too.  You've been out for three and a half days." Babette added.

    You heard the door to your chambers open and Astrid's voice ring out.  "So, you've decided to come back to the land of the living.  I take it you... Disposed of Cicero, correct?"

    You felt six pairs of eyes on you, and you felt your heart beat in your head.  Should you lie to your Family, or tell the truth about how you healed Cicero?

    "Well, Listener?  Did you or did you not?" Astrid prodded.

    You nodded before saying, "Yes, I sent his soul to the Void." with much confidence.

    A sly smirk crossed Astrid's face and she crossed her arms.  "Excellent!  That's exactly what I want to hear!  Now, get all rested up before your next contract.  I don't have time for you all to just lay around."  Astrid turned and left, leaving silence to fall between Nazir, Babette, and you.

    "You know you're a terrible liar, (Name)." Babette chimed, a knowing smile on her child-like face.

    "W-What?" you choked out, staring at her with wide eyes.

    "Oooooh yeah.  You've got it bad, Listener." Nazir added.

    "What?  What are you talking about!"  Heat began rising to your cheeks as Nazir and Babette left the room as well.

    Babette stuck her head in, "Don't worry.  Your secret is safe with us!"

    After a moment of silence surrounded you and you huffed, attempting to rid your face of the terrible blush.  You glanced over to the table in the corner and caught sight of an unfamiliar book.  Slowly standing up and moving to the table, you grabbed the book and inspected it closely.  

    "Just... A regular journal?  But whose is it?  It looks familiar, now that I think about it..."  You opened the leather cover to the journal and were immediately met with a small bouquet of pressed mountain flowers.  With slightly widened eyes you caressed the delicate beauties and noticed something was written on the first page.

    "Must get Sweet Listener some flowers.  Pretty, pretty flowers."

    A soft smile crossed your lips as you curled back into your bed.  You placed the flowers back into the journal, hugged it to your chest, and let the sleep you so desperately wanted pull you back under, where you had sweet dreams of a certain mad jester.