“No!” Eola cried, grabbing Cicero's hand before the dagger could come out. “I mean, no, something more is going on. If Madanach has a secret assassination ring going on, why'd he get her arrested? She's a Nord, there's no reason to keep her alive. Plenty in the Forsworn would happily kill her. Something more is going on, and we need to find out what.”
Cicero tilted his head, motioning for her to go on. “Does Eola know how? This is her city, not Cicero's.”
“No, not my city,” Eola said quietly. “Madanach's and always was. But he had a steward, a right-hand man, taking care of it all for him. A man called Nepos.” Eola glanced up to the top tier of the city, home to the wealthiest of the city. How a Reachman had got to be one of them was a question few asked. But Eola knew the name and Eola could guess why he was still so influential.
“Ooh!” Cicero breathed. “You want Cicero to take care of him too?”
“What – no!” Eola sighed. “No, we need to be careful who we stab. The Forsworn have our Dragonborn so we need to rescue her – but no heroics, right? Or careless stabbing. Cicero, I'm – I'm still one of them, even though I ran away years ago. I don't think I'll ever really not be one – I left them, they never left me. Namira help me, I never wanted to do this but... well, Ma's dead at least so I suppose I don't have to worry about that any more. Cicero, I'm sorry, but I think the only way we're getting her back is if... is if we use me as a bargaining chip. I'm sorry, sweetie.”
Cicero's face fell, eyes staring helplessly up at her, and this was breaking Eola's heart, it really was, but what choice did she have?
“But Cicero only just found you,” he whispered, sounding heartbroken. Eola stroked his cheek, feeling a bit torn up herself. But she wasn't going back as a helpless child any more. This wasn't the end.
“I'll be all right,” she told him. “And you and me aren't done yet either, jester boy. We'll see how this goes, but right now I need you to leave the negotiations to me. What I need you doing is making sure there's a Dragonborn left to rescue. Are you able to sneak down there, see if they'll let you visit?”
Cicero scoffed at the mere idea.
“Cicero thinks not. Maia doesn't need a visitor. Maia needs a bodyguard. Maia needs someone to sit next to her and watch over her and ensure no one tries to take liberties. Do not worry. Cicero has survived tough prisons before. Here.”
He handed over all his things, saving the Ring of Namira for last, keeping only his motley and his dagger, before leaning down and kissing her full on the lips.
“Negotiate for me as well, pretty Eola,” Cicero whispered. “And if it doesn't work, know I'll never forget you.”
“Cicero, no,” Eola whispered, realising what he was planning. “Don't, please!”
“You have any other ideas?” Cicero breathed. “Cicero left Maia alone in this city and she got herself arrested. Cicero will not leave her alone again.”
Eola nodded, giving him one last hug.
“Don't kill Madanach,” she whispered. “Kill whoever else you have to, but not him. And if you need to stop him killing you... tell him you know where to find me. You tell him Eola's a friend of yours.”
Cicero nodded, but he was looking very suspicious. “He knows you,” he said, frowning. “But he has been in prison these past twenty years, you can only have been a child when he saw you last. Why would the King in Rags care for some Forsworn child?”
Eola couldn't even bring herself to look at him, and she should perhaps have told him this before, but damn it, hadn't she spent the last decade trying to forget and move on? A waste of effort in the end. The Reach had a way of calling you back, and how was she supposed to forget the King in Rags in a hurry?
“He cared for his own,” she whispered, not meeting Cicero's eyes, the little gasp from him telling her all she needed to know.
“Oh. Ohhh. Oh that... that explains... oh Sithis. Sweet Eola is a Ragged Princess.”
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 14.5
Cicero tilted his head, motioning for her to go on. “Does Eola know how? This is her city, not Cicero's.”
“No, not my city,” Eola said quietly. “Madanach's and always was. But he had a steward, a right-hand man, taking care of it all for him. A man called Nepos.” Eola glanced up to the top tier of the city, home to the wealthiest of the city. How a Reachman had got to be one of them was a question few asked. But Eola knew the name and Eola could guess why he was still so influential.
“Ooh!” Cicero breathed. “You want Cicero to take care of him too?”
“What – no!” Eola sighed. “No, we need to be careful who we stab. The Forsworn have our Dragonborn so we need to rescue her – but no heroics, right? Or careless stabbing. Cicero, I'm – I'm still one of them, even though I ran away years ago. I don't think I'll ever really not be one – I left them, they never left me. Namira help me, I never wanted to do this but... well, Ma's dead at least so I suppose I don't have to worry about that any more. Cicero, I'm sorry, but I think the only way we're getting her back is if... is if we use me as a bargaining chip. I'm sorry, sweetie.”
Cicero's face fell, eyes staring helplessly up at her, and this was breaking Eola's heart, it really was, but what choice did she have?
“But Cicero only just found you,” he whispered, sounding heartbroken. Eola stroked his cheek, feeling a bit torn up herself. But she wasn't going back as a helpless child any more. This wasn't the end.
“I'll be all right,” she told him. “And you and me aren't done yet either, jester boy. We'll see how this goes, but right now I need you to leave the negotiations to me. What I need you doing is making sure there's a Dragonborn left to rescue. Are you able to sneak down there, see if they'll let you visit?”
Cicero scoffed at the mere idea.
“Cicero thinks not. Maia doesn't need a visitor. Maia needs a bodyguard. Maia needs someone to sit next to her and watch over her and ensure no one tries to take liberties. Do not worry. Cicero has survived tough prisons before. Here.”
He handed over all his things, saving the Ring of Namira for last, keeping only his motley and his dagger, before leaning down and kissing her full on the lips.
“Negotiate for me as well, pretty Eola,” Cicero whispered. “And if it doesn't work, know I'll never forget you.”
“Cicero, no,” Eola whispered, realising what he was planning. “Don't, please!”
“You have any other ideas?” Cicero breathed. “Cicero left Maia alone in this city and she got herself arrested. Cicero will not leave her alone again.”
Eola nodded, giving him one last hug.
“Don't kill Madanach,” she whispered. “Kill whoever else you have to, but not him. And if you need to stop him killing you... tell him you know where to find me. You tell him Eola's a friend of yours.”
Cicero nodded, but he was looking very suspicious. “He knows you,” he said, frowning. “But he has been in prison these past twenty years, you can only have been a child when he saw you last. Why would the King in Rags care for some Forsworn child?”
Eola couldn't even bring herself to look at him, and she should perhaps have told him this before, but damn it, hadn't she spent the last decade trying to forget and move on? A waste of effort in the end. The Reach had a way of calling you back, and how was she supposed to forget the King in Rags in a hurry?
“He cared for his own,” she whispered, not meeting Cicero's eyes, the little gasp from him telling her all she needed to know.
“Oh. Ohhh. Oh that... that explains... oh Sithis. Sweet Eola is a Ragged Princess.”