Entirely understandable – too much Cicero would give anyone a headache after a while. Elisif had never met anyone quite so desperate for company. Then there'd been the time she'd got up in the middle of the night to find him wandering the corridors, looking scared and pitiful and wanting to know if she knew where his mother was. She'd not really known what to do other than take him outside to sit under the stars for a bit and cuddle him, whispering she was sure his mother was out there somewhere and thinking of him too. He snuggled her back, and then whispered that if Astrid had hurt Mother, he would carve her to pieces. Elisif really hadn't known what to say to that, other than pat him on the back and tell him maybe he'd be able to go home one day. He'd just smiled that sad little smile of his and thanked her for her kindness. They'd stayed out there for some time before he'd finally got cold and walked her back to her bedroom. She still wasn't sure if he'd actually slept at all that night, but he'd seemed perky enough the next day.
Even so, she was sure being cooped up in Sky Haven Temple wasn't good for him. Getting him some fresh air and some new scenery would be just the thing, she was sure. Prophetic really, because a few moments later, in he walked, brandishing her ebony bow.
“This will not do!” he snapped. “This will not do at all.”
Delphine rubbed her forehead, clearly having a headache coming on.
“What won't do?” she sighed.
“This!” Cicero snapped, thrusting the bow at Elisif. “Sweet Elisif, pretty Elisif, Cicero knows you meant well and he thanks you for the loan, but it simply won't do. This bow is ALL WRONG!”
Elisif took it back off him, inspecting it. It didn't look any different to when she'd given it to him, and he'd used it well enough before.
“What's wrong with it?” Elisif asked. Cicero sank down into the chair next to her, arms folded as he glared sternly at her.
“It is the wrong size!” he hissed. Elisif scratched her head. She'd always thought bows were fairly interchangeable, but she supposed Cicero knew more than she did about archery. Delphine had just gone back to her work, smiling to herself.
“I didn't know bows came in sizes...” she began, but Cicero was nodding vigorously.
“Oh yes, yes indeed!” he breathed. “They must be precisely calibrated to the wielder's height and arm length. Otherwise it works... but not well. Cicero's poor arm is very sore from all the shooting at dragons and Forsworn.” He looked up at her, those dark eyes staring pitifully at her as he pouted.
“I... you poor thing,” Elisif said, glancing at Delphine, who was biting her lip and looking like she was trying not to laugh, which really wasn't that nice of her. “I was going to Markarth today anyway, did you want to come? I can get you a new bow while we're there.”
Cicero looked, inhaled and then squealed, clutching his hands together and beaming at her.
“Cicero would love to!” he gasped. “Cicero thought you would never ask! Let humble Cicero get his things and we shall be on our way. Cicero and the Dragonborn, on the hunt!” Cicero skipped off, singing happily to himself, presumably to find his weapons and armour. Delphine lowered her quill and grinned at Elisif.
“There you go, you were wondering what to do next. Now you've got a plan.”
She had indeed, although Delphine could look a little less cheerful.
“The poor man, I had no idea the bow was hurting him!” Elisif whispered. “And you! Laughing at him! He was in pain!”
Delphine chuckled, shaking her head. “I – yes, I'm awful, laughing at poor Cicero like that. Poor man. Well, he's yours for the day, so you look after him, you hear? Don't let him wander off or get into trouble. I wouldn't want him arrested, especially not here. Markarth's prison's a dangerous one.”
What was so dangerous about it, Elisif didn't like to ask, although Torygg had mentioned it once or twice too, always refusing to tell her the details on the grounds no decent woman should have to hear about the cutthroats and murderers that inhabited the place. Cicero might be an assassin, but he was also needy and vulnerable and definitely didn't need locking up in what was essentially a high security hole in the ground.
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timeasmymeasure
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 12.3
Date: 2013-11-10 03:35 pm (UTC)Even so, she was sure being cooped up in Sky Haven Temple wasn't good for him. Getting him some fresh air and some new scenery would be just the thing, she was sure. Prophetic really, because a few moments later, in he walked, brandishing her ebony bow.
“This will not do!” he snapped. “This will not do at all.”
Delphine rubbed her forehead, clearly having a headache coming on.
“What won't do?” she sighed.
“This!” Cicero snapped, thrusting the bow at Elisif. “Sweet Elisif, pretty Elisif, Cicero knows you meant well and he thanks you for the loan, but it simply won't do. This bow is ALL WRONG!”
Elisif took it back off him, inspecting it. It didn't look any different to when she'd given it to him, and he'd used it well enough before.
“What's wrong with it?” Elisif asked. Cicero sank down into the chair next to her, arms folded as he glared sternly at her.
“It is the wrong size!” he hissed. Elisif scratched her head. She'd always thought bows were fairly interchangeable, but she supposed Cicero knew more than she did about archery. Delphine had just gone back to her work, smiling to herself.
“I didn't know bows came in sizes...” she began, but Cicero was nodding vigorously.
“Oh yes, yes indeed!” he breathed. “They must be precisely calibrated to the wielder's height and arm length. Otherwise it works... but not well. Cicero's poor arm is very sore from all the shooting at dragons and Forsworn.” He looked up at her, those dark eyes staring pitifully at her as he pouted.
“I... you poor thing,” Elisif said, glancing at Delphine, who was biting her lip and looking like she was trying not to laugh, which really wasn't that nice of her. “I was going to Markarth today anyway, did you want to come? I can get you a new bow while we're there.”
Cicero looked, inhaled and then squealed, clutching his hands together and beaming at her.
“Cicero would love to!” he gasped. “Cicero thought you would never ask! Let humble Cicero get his things and we shall be on our way. Cicero and the Dragonborn, on the hunt!” Cicero skipped off, singing happily to himself, presumably to find his weapons and armour. Delphine lowered her quill and grinned at Elisif.
“There you go, you were wondering what to do next. Now you've got a plan.”
She had indeed, although Delphine could look a little less cheerful.
“The poor man, I had no idea the bow was hurting him!” Elisif whispered. “And you! Laughing at him! He was in pain!”
Delphine chuckled, shaking her head. “I – yes, I'm awful, laughing at poor Cicero like that. Poor man. Well, he's yours for the day, so you look after him, you hear? Don't let him wander off or get into trouble. I wouldn't want him arrested, especially not here. Markarth's prison's a dangerous one.”
What was so dangerous about it, Elisif didn't like to ask, although Torygg had mentioned it once or twice too, always refusing to tell her the details on the grounds no decent woman should have to hear about the cutthroats and murderers that inhabited the place. Cicero might be an assassin, but he was also needy and vulnerable and definitely didn't need locking up in what was essentially a high security hole in the ground.