Cicero pounced. Gabriella had just enough time to see him and cry “You? How?” before Cicero slit her throat and let her fall lifeless to the floor, blood pooling out and yes this felt good, felt so good, blood everywhere, just how he liked it. Cicero dropped to his knees beside her body, helping himself to her coin purse, all five hundred septims of it, replenishing his own. He knew he'd find money eventually. He always did.
“Now that's more like it,” the hidden woman breathed, sounding delighted and Cicero hissed quietly. Whoever this little harlot was, she had no right whatsoever sounding so seductive and aroused and doing strange things to Cicero's head like she was.
“Who are you,” he growled. “Show yourself!”
Movement and then she was there, a young Breton with short dark blonde hair, one eye blind and sightless but still pretty for all that. She was dressed in studded armour, sword at her side, and Cicero had a feeling she probably knew magic too. She was smiling at him, and Cicero didn't know if he liked that or not. That was the smile of a born predator and Cicero wasn't sure he liked being prey. He guessed it all depended what sort of hunt she had in mind.
“Hungry?” she purred, nodding at Gabriella's corpse. “Don't let me stop you. I will not shun you for what you are. It's all right. You've found a friend who... understands you.”
Cicero just bet she did.
“Do you,” he said, tilting his head and starting to smile craftily back at her. “Do you truly know what I am?”
She just smiled, coming to kneel on the other side of Gabriella's body. “You're a true-born child of darkness,” she whispered. “Oh, so was she, she reeked of death too. But she was a mystic, meditating on death without really understanding what it means. Of someone, a friend, a sibling maybe, living and breathing and warm... and then not. Hacked to pieces in front of you? Or maybe you just found the body. Cold and lifeless and you were there for hours, perhaps days, until they found you and she wouldn't move or react and you were alone and so hungry...”
“I didn't eat Mama!” Cicero wailed, flashing back to the Imperial City, barely thirteen, picking his way across a neighbourhood in ruins, the battle over but the Thalmor still ravaging the place anyway, hunting for his mother and when he finally found her... He couldn't remember. Couldn't remember any of it, only the numb horror of her being cold and unmoving, gone, gone forever and his childhood was over and nothing had ever really been all right since. Mama...
“It's all right,” the woman said softly, eyes surprisingly gentle considering she was a murdering cannibal deviant. “It doesn't matter. She was dead, and she always fed you in life, didn't she? Why not in death too? She wouldn't have wanted her boy to go hungry.”
Cicero shook his head, tears in his eyes. He couldn't remember... but for all he knew, he might have done.
“Cicero never did,” he whispered. “Cicero is a good boy!”
“Yeah, you sure are,” the Breton said, patting his arm with a smile. “Well, maybe not her. Maybe you didn't actually take a nibble. But I bet you were tempted. It's OK. You don't have to hide it any more. I know what you are, Cicero. You're a hunter. Like me.”
Cicero did look up then, little growl coming from his throat.
“Cicero is nothing like you!” he hissed, and the woman just kept on smiling.
“You just stabbed a woman in front of me, and you say we're not alike?” she laughed. “Sure you don't want a nibble of this one? Food's going cold.”
“Very sure,” Cicero said through gritted teeth, looking the other way as she shrugged and began stripping the corpse, taking the robes and Elven dagger for herself. Then came the sound of chewing and Cicero definitely didn't want to look at that, certainly found nothing arousing about this strange woman feeding on the flesh of his former Dark Sister, that was not an erection in his underwear, certainly not, oh Sithis, he was doomed.
Magic flashed behind him, then the sound of the woman ordering the corpse into a coffin, and she was a necromancer too, that was just marvellous. The coffin lid slammed shut, and then there was Destruction magic, first ice then fire.
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 12.8
“Now that's more like it,” the hidden woman breathed, sounding delighted and Cicero hissed quietly. Whoever this little harlot was, she had no right whatsoever sounding so seductive and aroused and doing strange things to Cicero's head like she was.
“Who are you,” he growled. “Show yourself!”
Movement and then she was there, a young Breton with short dark blonde hair, one eye blind and sightless but still pretty for all that. She was dressed in studded armour, sword at her side, and Cicero had a feeling she probably knew magic too. She was smiling at him, and Cicero didn't know if he liked that or not. That was the smile of a born predator and Cicero wasn't sure he liked being prey. He guessed it all depended what sort of hunt she had in mind.
“Hungry?” she purred, nodding at Gabriella's corpse. “Don't let me stop you. I will not shun you for what you are. It's all right. You've found a friend who... understands you.”
Cicero just bet she did.
“Do you,” he said, tilting his head and starting to smile craftily back at her. “Do you truly know what I am?”
She just smiled, coming to kneel on the other side of Gabriella's body. “You're a true-born child of darkness,” she whispered. “Oh, so was she, she reeked of death too. But she was a mystic, meditating on death without really understanding what it means. Of someone, a friend, a sibling maybe, living and breathing and warm... and then not. Hacked to pieces in front of you? Or maybe you just found the body. Cold and lifeless and you were there for hours, perhaps days, until they found you and she wouldn't move or react and you were alone and so hungry...”
“I didn't eat Mama!” Cicero wailed, flashing back to the Imperial City, barely thirteen, picking his way across a neighbourhood in ruins, the battle over but the Thalmor still ravaging the place anyway, hunting for his mother and when he finally found her... He couldn't remember. Couldn't remember any of it, only the numb horror of her being cold and unmoving, gone, gone forever and his childhood was over and nothing had ever really been all right since. Mama...
“It's all right,” the woman said softly, eyes surprisingly gentle considering she was a murdering cannibal deviant. “It doesn't matter. She was dead, and she always fed you in life, didn't she? Why not in death too? She wouldn't have wanted her boy to go hungry.”
Cicero shook his head, tears in his eyes. He couldn't remember... but for all he knew, he might have done.
“Cicero never did,” he whispered. “Cicero is a good boy!”
“Yeah, you sure are,” the Breton said, patting his arm with a smile. “Well, maybe not her. Maybe you didn't actually take a nibble. But I bet you were tempted. It's OK. You don't have to hide it any more. I know what you are, Cicero. You're a hunter. Like me.”
Cicero did look up then, little growl coming from his throat.
“Cicero is nothing like you!” he hissed, and the woman just kept on smiling.
“You just stabbed a woman in front of me, and you say we're not alike?” she laughed. “Sure you don't want a nibble of this one? Food's going cold.”
“Very sure,” Cicero said through gritted teeth, looking the other way as she shrugged and began stripping the corpse, taking the robes and Elven dagger for herself. Then came the sound of chewing and Cicero definitely didn't want to look at that, certainly found nothing arousing about this strange woman feeding on the flesh of his former Dark Sister, that was not an erection in his underwear, certainly not, oh Sithis, he was doomed.
Magic flashed behind him, then the sound of the woman ordering the corpse into a coffin, and she was a necromancer too, that was just marvellous. The coffin lid slammed shut, and then there was Destruction magic, first ice then fire.