Meme Announcements!
Oct. 29th, 2011 12:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
skyrimkinkmemeANNOUNCEMENTS: UPDATED 12/16/2017
Happy Holidays, fellow Kinkmemers! I have returned and have no reasonable excuse for my absence except LIFE. I will be working on updating the archives. If anyone sees anything amiss, please let me know.
I am also hoping to find another Mod and an Archivist.
The more dedicated people we have in this Meme the less chance of it dying. I admit that being the sole keeper of the Meme is not great for the fandom. If something were to happen to me, for good, this place would go the way of the Fallout Kink Meme. Let's not let that happen! If anyone would be interested in Modding/Archiving, please drop me a line. Thanks! <3
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 12.2
Date: 2013-11-10 03:34 pm (UTC)“It's Grand Master,” Delphine sighed. “Acting Grand Master. The Akaviri language used the same word for both male and female leaders, so we do the same.”
Cicero just giggled, biting his thumb and looking coyly at her.
“Cicero thinks Grand Mistress suits pretty Delphine,” he purred. Delphine just put her head in her hands, exasperated.
“Still not interested, Cicero,” Delphine sighed. “Go and bother someone else. Does Esbern need anything?”
“Esbern is more interested in books than people,” Cicero muttered. Then he shrugged and got up. “But he is still nicer than any of Astrid's people were.” Whistling to himself, he skipped off, presumably to bother Esbern.
Elisif took advantage of the quiet and went to sit next to Delphine.
“Delphine,” she said quietly. “Delphine, what are we doing next? I mean, we got this far, and believe me, I'm very thankful for the help... but I can't stay here forever and there's only six of us, four of us with Aela and Brynjolf gone. What next?”
“You're meant to be off to see the Greybeards, but I don't really want you going alone, and while I like Cicero, I don't entirely trust him,” Delphine sighed. “Damn it, if we just had more people... but as it is, you'll have to wait for Bryn or Aela to get back and take you up there.”
Frustrating indeed, especially with dragons out there ravaging Skyrim. But if all that was needed were more people...
“Delphine,” Elisif began. “What if I recruited some more people?”
Delphine lowered her quill and notebook and looked Elisif over, surprised.
“You'd do that?” she said, surprised. “Well, I suppose you did sort of get us Cicero, and I know Aela's involved mostly to keep an eye on you. All right, if you find anyone suitable and trustworthy and not a Thalmor agent, I guess I can take a look at them. Did you have anyone in mind?”
“As a matter of fact, yes,” said Elisif, grinning. “His name's Erandur and he's a Dunmer and priest of Mara. He lives a solitary life in Dawnstar but he's still quite capable. I helped him save Dawnstar from the Daedra Vaermina, and he helped me save Haafingar from no less than two necromancer covens. He's not got much of a life to leave behind in Dawnstar, I think he'd love to come here and help.”
“You think so, do you?” Delphine said, thinking this over. At length, she nodded. “All right. If you vouch for him, he can join us. Get to Markarth today, hire a courier and write to him, tell him to come to the Old Hroldan Inn. Take Cicero with you – I'm not sure I'd want to inflict him on the Greybeards, but you should be all right just taking him into the city. Frankly, getting him out from under my feet for a few hours is doing me a huge service.”
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.
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 12.4
Date: 2013-11-10 03:37 pm (UTC)~~~~~~~~~~
Markarth loomed up in the noonday sun, Dwemer stonework gleaming in the sunlight and making Elisif's eyes hurt. Cicero trotted behind, staring at it in awe. It turned out he'd not seen anything like it since leaving Cyrodiil.
“Look at it, Maia, look!” he gasped. “Stone, stone, solid stone, like in the Imperial City! And yet... not.”
Elisif had never been to the Imperial City, in fact she'd not even been to Cyrodiil. Suppressing a pang of envy, she patted his arm.
“It was built by the Dwarves, long ago,” she told him. “Then it got settled by the Reachmen, and then it became a Nord city when the Reach became part of Skyrim.”
“When Tiber Septim won the Battle of Old Hroldan and defeated the Forsworn,” Cicero grinned, having read a few books on the Reach that Esbern had found for him in the library. “Yes, yes, Cicero has read of it. So much blood!” He cackled to himself, rubbing his hands. Elisif shivered a little, wishing he didn't have to be quite so gleeful over the idea.
“Well, Markarth is quite safe these days,” she told him. “The Forsworn only attack in the hills and wilderness. You don't have to worry.”
“Oh, Cicero wasn't worried,” Cicero purred, fingering the hilt of his ebony dagger, and Elisif could only sigh as she recalled yet again that death and violence didn't put Cicero off. Quite the reverse. She just hoped he'd behave himself in Markarth.
“Welcome to Markarth, traveller,” the guard on the gate said as they passed by, Elisif back in her scaled armour with Dragonbane and Dawnbreaker at her side, and Cicero in his elven gear, the hat hidden away but she was sure he had it on him. “Safest city in the Reach.”
Only city in the Reach, unless the definition of city had changed recently. Elisif was sure she'd have remembered the paperwork if it had. Still, she nodded at the guard and entered.
The gates opened onto the market, Dweller buildings looming over them, the inn on the left, houses built into the cliff on the right and the Markarth Brook flowing down the central street. It looked beautiful, although Elisif could hear smelters and forges from the other side of the central crag and was sure the industrial centre of Markarth was less appealing. Still, this side of the city looked nice.
Elisif was looking around to see if there was a forge anywhere when it happened.
“Glory to the Forsworn! The Reach will be ours again!”
Forsworn?? Here? Elisif drew Dawnbreaker, staring around wildly and then she saw him, near the jewellery stall, a Reachman with a knife. Before she could do anything, he'd grabbed the Nord woman who'd been browsing and slit her throat.
Elisif stared as the woman slumped lifelessly to the floor and the guards struck, butchering the killer in seconds.
“I die... for my country...” he gasped as he died, and then he lay still, blood pooling out everywhere. Kynareth save her. What sort of city was this??
Behind her, Cicero cackled and capered, delighted.
“Hee! HEEEEE!!!! Cicero likes this place already! Cicero should have come here years ago!”
Elisif sheathed her sword, feeling her knees go weak and her stomach turn as she remembered Ulfric sinking a sword into her husband, blood everywhere and now another innocent had just died in front of her. Shaking, Elisif sat down by the wall, trying not to cry. She should never have come here, never.
“Maia? Maia? Pretty Maia?” Cicero was kneeling by her side, looking worried. “Are you all right?”
“No!” Elisif gasped. “I just saw a woman murdered, of course I'm not all right!”
Cicero paused and then began stroking her hair.
“Of course, of course you are not, Maia is not used to death and blood. Maia is sweet! Innocent! Maia is a dragonslaying hero, Maia does not trouble herself with such things as removal of her enemies, no. That is what loyal Cicero is for, is it not? Do not worry, sweet Maia, Cicero will look after you.”
Elisif really didn't know how he could change from murderous to sweet in seconds, but she was rather glad of it. Then a shadow fell over them both and Elisif looked up, hand going to her sword.
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 12.5
Date: 2013-11-10 03:38 pm (UTC)It turned out to be a young Reachman, face painted in the traditional style, but not dressed like a Forsworn, or armed as far as Elisif could see. He just looked like a young man out for a walk.
“It's fine,” Elisif said, letting Cicero help her up. “I just had to sit down for a bit after...” She indicated where the guards had brought stretchers and were hauling bodies away. The young Reachman shivered, looking sympathetic.
“I know, I saw it too. To have such a thing happen here in the city... how much did you see?”
“Saw the whole thing,” Elisif whispered. “I just couldn't do anything about it. My first time in Markarth and this happens!”
“That must have been a horrible shock,” the young man said. “I hope the Eight give you more peace in the future. Oh! I think you dropped this. Some sort of note, fell out of your pocket.”
Elisif's hand went to the sealed letter to Erandur in her pocket but it was still there, quite safe. She frowned at the young man.
“I didn't drop anything – is this your note?”
He shook his head, utterly guileless. “No, that's your note. You dropped it when you sat down.” He pushed it into her hand and turned to leave, and now Elisif was sure something was up.
“Do you know something about all this?” Elisif demanded. She was almost positive he did, and if someone was behind the attack, if it wasn't a one-off, she was honour-bound to do something about it.
“Me? No,” the young man laughed, shaking his head. “I just stepped out for some air. Had one too many pints of mead at the Silver-Blood inn.”
Drinking in the middle of the day? But Elisif hadn't smelled mead on his breath. She watched suspiciously as he left and then opened the note.
Meet me at the Shrine to Talos.
Well hadn't this little mess just got complicated. She showed the note to Cicero to see what he made of it.
“What do you think he wants?” she murmured. Cicero pursed his lips, frowning.
“Cicero doesn't know but he is up to something. He is not Brotherhood, no, but Cicero doesn't trust him. He lies, Maia. He knows too much.” Cicero's frown faded and then he was all smiles again. “But Maia doesn't need to worry about this. Maia has business in this city and once that is done, Maia and Cicero go home, yes? Yes! Let Markarth deal with its own problems.”
“Markarth's problems are my problems, I can't just walk away from this, Cicero! I'm queen!” Elisif protested. Cicero's smile faded as his eyes darkened and he glared at her. Elisif felt her bravado fade as she remembered that for all the prancing and posturing, Cicero was underneath it all a very dangerous man.
“Now see here,” he murmured, voice dropping to a growling low pitch. “Sweet Delphine was very insistent that you are important. She was most keen that you return safe and unharmed. Cicero thinks that if Elisif starts poking under stones, things might start crawling out from under them... and that would be bad. Very bad indeed. Also if Elisif were harmed, Astrid would take the credit and Cicero will not have that. Let the filthy pretender work for her coin!”
Fair point, it wasn't like Elisif didn't have other things to do. All the same, she could sense the secrets, the corruption just under the surface of this city. When she was queen, she promised, she'd come back here and talk to Igmund and see just what sort of city he was running here. But for now, she had a courier to hire and a bow to buy for Cicero.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Courier hired, letter sent, Erandur likely to be on the way within a few days, and now Elisif was haggling over the price of an Elven bow with Ghorza, the Orc who ran the forge. It was very shiny and Cicero had taken one look and starting cooing over it. So Elisif had bitten the bullet and asked after it. Good thing she'd been able to top up her coin purse to a full thousand septims before leaving Solitude really.
“Do you need his measurements?” Elisif asked, reaching for her purse. Ghorza stopped, looked up and stared at her as if she was insane.
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 12.6
Date: 2013-11-10 03:39 pm (UTC)“To make sure it's in his size...” Elisif stopped, seeing the incredulous stare the Orc was giving her, and slowly turned to look at Cicero, who was giggling nervously, looking rather flushed.
“Your arm wasn't sore at all, was it?” she snapped, glaring at him. “Did you just want a new bow? You could have just asked!”
Cicero giggled, swaying from side to side as he looked coyly up at her. “Oh but sweetling, you might have said no! Or left poor Cicero behind! And Cicero cannot keep using yours, can he?” He turned to Ghorza, producing his own coin purse. “Four hundred and forty septims for the bow, yes? Here!”
Ghorza took the coin, probably just wanting to get him out of her shop and gave him the bow. Elisif could only shake her head as she followed him out.
“I really don't get you sometimes,” she sighed. Cicero was still giggling. “Do you have any money left?”
“Well, no,” Cicero admitted. “Not a lot. But some! More will come. It always does. Oh but sweet Maia, pretty Maia, it was a funny joke, was it not? You believed me! Believed foolish Cicero's funny joke!”
Which Delphine hadn't seen fit to enlighten her about either, although it was possible the Breton had seized at any excuse to get Cicero out of her hair. Elisif had her hands on her hips, glaring at the little jester, who just laughed all the harder. At least he did... until he glanced over her shoulder, the smile fading, blood draining from his face and then he promptly dived into the Markarth Brook, hiding under Ghorza's forge, out of sight, finger pressed to his lips.
Elisif would have asked why until she saw the figure walking down the steps from the Hag's Cure alchemy shop at the top of the city. A woman in hooded red and black robes with a handprint on the front, and as she approached, Elisif could see the grey skin of a Dunmer. Cicero had gone pale, hiding in the shadows and while he didn't look scared exactly, he looked nervous. Elisif could only think of one reason for Cicero to look nervous. Red and black, like the armour on that Argonian who tried to kill her, and Elisif didn't know if it was a good thing or not that she knew his name now, Veezara he'd been called.
This woman was clearly one of his siblings in darkness. Elisif drew out of the way, staying close to the wall and watching out of the corner of her eyes as the woman headed for Understone Keep, barely sparing her a second glance. It wasn't until she'd gone that Cicero finally clambered out of the stream, shaking the water off himself.
“Who was she?” Elisif whispered, needing confirmation of the worst.
“Gabriella,” Cicero murmured, the syllables rolling over his tongue like poison. “Obsessed with death, claims to venerate Mother but she's Astrid's really. Never stepped in to defend poor Cicero from the others' teasing, no!” He turned to Elisif, looking unusually grim. “Maia must go. Now. Leave the city, go back to the Temple. Cicero shall deal with this.”
Elisif nodded, looking nervously at the rest of the city, wondering if there were any others out there. Cicero seemed to guess what she was thinking.
“Do not worry, pretty one. Astrid has few enough people left to her and she could not have known you would be here. She is likely here alone on other business. You will be safe once Cicero has dealt with her. But go you must! Quickly now! Cicero shall see you back at our Sanctuary.”
Without further words, Cicero was gone, slinking off after the Dunmer and Elisif could guess what he was planning. The thought made her a bit sick, but on the other hand, her safety lay in secrecy and Gabriella was an assassin after all. Even so, the thought of Cicero killing her in cold blood unsettled her. This city had seen enough death.
Elisif recalled the note the young Reachman had given her earlier. To meet at the Shrine of Talos. It had to be about that young woman's death, must be.
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 12.7
Date: 2013-11-10 03:51 pm (UTC)~~~~~~~~~~~~
Gabriella had made her way into the Keep, apparently unaware of Cicero tailing her. Good. Cicero hadn't got where he had in life by being bad at his job – quite the reverse. Clinging to the shadows, he watched as Gabriella stood in the corridor, watching a priest of Arkay arguing with a Nord warrior about the Hall of the Dead being shut. As the Nord stormed off, Gabriella approached the priest.
“Excuse me, brother, did I hear correctly? The Hall of the Dead is shut? Whatever for?”
“Does it matter?” the priest snapped. “It's closed, you can't go in there, that's the end of it.”
“What?” Gabriella cried. “But I always visit Arkay's shrines when I'm in a big city. I'm a devout follower of the god of death, I was hoping for his blessings! Can't you at least tell me why? Or is it coin you're after?”
“It's not... all right, I'll tell you. But you have to keep it to yourself.” The priest whispered to Gabriella who looked suitably impressed – if a little appalled.
“That's awful,” the Dunmer said, sounding sympathetic. “Would you like me to help? It sounds like it just might be my area of expertise. I'm very skilled at... pest control.”
“Well, I was going to ask the Jarl to hire someone... all right, here's the key. See what you can do. Any help you can offer would be wonderful.”
Gabriella promised she would and made her way off to the Hall of the Dead. Wanting to meditate over dead bodies, that was Gabriella all over. Cicero smiled, drawing his dagger and pulling his hat on, his lucky hat that helped him sneak better. What better place to kill someone than a mausoleum? Made hiding a body so much easier.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Not many would walk into a crypt blindly, smelling of steel and blood... but not fear.”
Gabriella started up at the voice, seeming to echo off the walls and inside Cicero's head too as he crept in after her.
Mother? Is that your voice I hear?? No, no, surely not, Mother wasn't here, Mother was in Falkreath, all alone, far away... This was someone else. Someone different. Someone... wrong. But not in a bad way. Cicero shivered. That voice was the very soul of evil and he could feel it enticing him on. Was she talking to Gabriella or him though?
“I don't know who you are,” Gabriella said imperiously, casting her mage armour. “But you have no business here. Show yourself, shadow warrior. Let us at least talk like reasonable adults.”
Laughter, soft sibilant chuckling echoing around the stone tombs. “I wasn't talking to you, Dark Elf. But since you asked... I know your robes, Dark Sister. Are you here to kill me or recruit me?”
“Verulus wants this place cleansed. He didn't specify how,” Gabriella said, looking around in vain. “But we could do with the recruits. Even if you are a... corpse-eater.” A little shudder from the Dunmer, and Cicero's eyes shot up. The mysterious woman had been living here, eating corpses?? How revolting. Disgusting. Vile. Filthy. Enticing. Cicero shivered, shaking his head, repressing memories of killing previous victims, seeing the blood flow and resisting the urge to taste it. Sometimes he'd not resisted. Wrong, wrong, he knew... but so hard, so hard to resist. Seemed this woman had gone one step further. Then Cicero saw Gabriella looking up, frowning.
“Wait, who else is here?” she asked, reaching for her dagger. No response from the woman other than more soft laughter. Cicero reached for his own knife, guessing he didn't have much time. He also guessed the mysterious woman wouldn't object too hard to witnessing a good stabbing.
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 12.8
Date: 2013-11-10 03:56 pm (UTC)“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 12.9
Date: 2013-11-10 03:58 pm (UTC)And now he was doing her fetching and carrying – Sithis, this was too much, he should treat the designing little hussy like he had Gabriella, silence the sole witness... except he couldn't bring himself to do it. He passed her the broom, amazed to see the blood on the floor reduced to red dust.
“Freeze-drying,” she explained. “Old Forsworn method of getting blood off stone, we – they – perfected it when they took Markarth. First you freeze it solid, then you burn it, then you sweep it up. Thanks, honey.” She swept the red dust into a corner and handed the broom back with a smile.
“My name's Eola. And yeah, I used to be a Forsworn, it's where I got my training. Grew up on a camp, both my parents were committed to the cause. Me, I had two sisters die, saw it happen to one with my own eyes. When I came of age, I had other ideas and ran away. Never looked back.” Something in her eyes told a different story though, and despite the levity in her voice, Cicero realised that when she'd talked of being cold, hungry and alone, clutching at a loved one's corpse after they'd been killed, she'd spoken from memory, and that she'd looked back more than a few times on the Forsworn family she'd left behind. Cicero felt his heart go out to her and he knew then he truly was doomed. Everything about this Eola woman was wrong... but he still wanted to cuddle her better. And possibly then kill someone with her, butcher the corpse for her and then bend her over a hard surface and... oh Sithis, this was ridiculous. He was better than this, wasn't he? Wasn't he?
Apparently not because he'd put the broom back and gone back over to her.
“You have not been here long, have you,” he said gently. “You had a home, didn't you?”
“Yeah,” Eola sighed. “Nice little place just outside Markarth called Reachcliff Cave. Just an old Dragon Cult ruin, not even a big one, one of the few not colonised by the Forsworn. But it was home and it was mine. Until the dragons came back and the Draugr decided it was time to start serving them again. I had to run for my life.”
Just outside Markarth... near Karthspire perhaps? With Elisif safely on her way home and Gabriella dead, Cicero had a little time to spare. Perhaps he could help. Perhaps he could be of assistance to the pretty murderer, stab some Draugr for her. He had his new bow now, and Elisif had given him her ebony axe earlier, finding it a bit heavy to carry now she had two swords. Yes, yes he could certainly help. And if the pretty flesh-eating necromancer proved grateful and wished to... reward him... well, Cicero wouldn't say no to that either.
~~~~~~~~~~~
The Draugr had proved easy prey in the end. Even the Deathlord in the final chamber had fallen to Cicero's axe and arrows and Eola's magic. None of them had ever even seen Cicero coming. He was feeling very pleased with himself, and Eola had looked nothing short of admiring. Then she'd given him gold and told him to go find a main course to reconsecrate the Shrine of Namira with. Well of course she was a Daedra-worshipper, Cicero hadn't even been surprised by that point. About the only thing about her that could actually have shocked him by then was finding out she was an untouched virgin. Which struck him as vanishingly unlikely, to put it mildly.
So he'd done as asked and lured that priest of Arkay back, giggling all the way, and really it was amazing what a tale of a cave full of undead needing Arkay's blessings and a bag of gold would do.
There they'd been, he and Eola standing across each other with Namira's altar in between them and a sleeping priest of Arkay on top of it.
Carve, she'd told him. Cicero had never flinched from a good stabbing in his life. So he'd carved, squealed at the blood spatter and then licked the blood from his fingers while she'd stared hungrily at him.
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 12.10
Date: 2013-11-10 04:00 pm (UTC)And then Namira had spoken and Cicero's world had imploded. He'd just stood there staring as Lady Namira herself had told him he'd pleased her, that he was now Keeper of her Ring, and to wallow in his wretchedness as her newest champion. He'd just nodded, tears rolling down his face and then she'd been gone... but her ring remained on his finger.
“She spoke to me,” Cicero whispered, staring vacantly into space.
“Yes,” Eola said softly, coming to stand before him, stroking his face, staring in awe. “You're everything I hoped you'd be... and more.”
“She spoke to me,” Cicero whispered again. “Twelve years of tending to Mother and nothing and I bring Namira one victim and... and Cicero gets to hear her voice...! Named Champion... Keeper...”
“I know!” Eola breathed, still smiling at him. “To be given that honour... I'm so proud of you.”
Cicero nodded, biting his lip and then he was sobbing, howling his heart out on Eola's shoulder, clinging on to her as grief for twelve wasted years as the Night Mother's Keeper, resentment at said Night Mother for never repaying him with her voice, not ever, not once, washed over him, tearing him apart, making him cry with the sheer emotion. And then the love, the hope, the realisation he'd been claimed by another... the realisation he was free, thanks to the woman before him.
“All right, champion,” Eola whispered, rubbing his back. “You're all right. It's a little overwhelming, I know. Oh honey, I've got you, it's all right.” She raised her voice to the rest of the coven, two of whom Cicero recognised from Markarth market and stables. “Right folks, our champion is clearly touched beyond words, so he and I are going out for a little privacy. Carry on without us and drink to Namira's glory. Tonight we have been blessed, brothers and sisters!”
The coven cheered and raised glasses, all praising Cicero's name. Cicero smiled tearfully back and raised the ring so they could all see it, before following Eola out.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
They sat under the stars by the river, Cicero huddled in Eola's arms as she stroked his hair and comforted him, and then he started talking, hesitantly and rambling at first, then telling her everything, all of it, all the Brotherhood's secrets, the Sacrament, the Listener, how he'd been one of their best assassins until the Listener died and the Night Mother came to Cheydinhal. How he'd become Keeper and how the others had left, left him alone in the dark for so long, so very long! Then he'd gone to Falkreath, to the last remaining Sanctuary, but found no Listener, just heretics who'd abandoned the old ways and mocked him as a fool. In the end he'd lost his temper when Astrid had insulted the Night Mother and tried to kill her, and had to run for his life... and then he'd found the Blades and their Dragonborn, Jarl Elisif of Solitude, High Queen to be. And she was pretty and nice and had been kind to him before and saved him again from Arnbjorn, so he'd joined up with her. That and depriving Astrid of the large sum of money she'd receive on Elisif's death struck Cicero as amusing.
“Jarl Elisif,” Eola said faintly. “High Queen of Skyrim according to the Empire. Dragonborn. And you joined up with her.”
“Yes!” Cicero giggled. “Yes, yes! Sweetling, she... she eats dragons!”
“Really?” Now that had grabbed Eola's attention. “I didn't know there was meat to be had on a dragon! How does she get through the scales?”
“It burns,” Cicero breathed, eyes wide as he described it to her. “The dragon burns and she takes the fire into herself! It is all bright and shiny and she takes the fire and then the dragon is gone! Dead! A skeleton! So obviously Cicero was very impressed and now he helps her. Keeps her safe. From Stormcloaks and Forsworn and Thalmor... and discreetly stabbing false Dark Brothers and Sisters when they get too close.”
Re: The Wolf Queen Awakens 12.11
Date: 2013-11-10 04:03 pm (UTC)“Oh yes,” Cicero grinned. “Cicero sent Elisif home for her own safety and dealt with the sneaky Dunmer before she could bring word to Astrid. Of course, he didn't expect... this.”
“Nor did I,” Eola whispered, running fingers through his hair as they cuddled. “The last true Dark Brotherhood assassin, becoming Champion of Namira. Never saw that happening.” She wrapped her arms around him, holding him closer. “Whatever happens, you will always have a friend in me and a home here at Reachcliff. You just be sure and tell me the rest of the story, you hear? I want to know how it ends.”
Cicero didn't respond to that, not immediately. Then he looked up, smiling in the aurora.
“Why not see for yourself?” he purred. Eola frowned, confused.
“What do you mean?” she asked, thinking she'd just been invited to join the Blades... but surely not, weren't they supposed to be heroic dragonslayers, protectors of the Empire?
“Come with me!” Cicero whispered, grinning. “Delphine and Elisif were talking of recruiting more people, Cicero heard them! Sweet Eola has skills. Sweet Eola is a former Forsworn nightblade. Delphine is worried about the Forsworn after we wiped out one of their camps. Eola could help!”
“You don't know the Forsworn that well if you think they'll listen to me,” Eola said bitterly. Not to a runaway who'd been AWOL for the last decade. All the same, it wasn't like she had no leverage to speak of. And killing dragons – that sounded exciting. Hunting down the Dark Brotherhood – even more so.
“Please?” Cicero whispered, looking hopefully up at her. “Come with Cicero! Keep him company! Cicero is tolerated because he is useful, and Elisif likes him... but Brynjolf and Aela wouldn't care if anything happened to him, and Cicero will not be useful forever. Cicero would like to have a friend there...”
Bless the man, but he was adorable. And lonely, Namira he must have been so unhappy. All that time with no one, literally no one... poor boy. Even in the Blades it seemed he was tolerated rather than loved. Maybe Eola could fix that.
“I don't have to worship Talos, do I?” she asked. “I mean, I really don't think that would be a good idea. Not that I'm scared of the Thalmor, but I'm still a Reachwoman at heart. I don't care if Talos is a god or not, but he's not getting prayers off me.”
“No, no,” Cicero laughed. “Cicero doesn't think it's required, not any more. Not now a new Dragonborn walks.” He looked hopefully up at her. “Does this mean sweet Eola will come?”
Eola smiled, tracing a finger down his cheek, making him squeak, and that sounded delightful, Eola could stand to hear that again.
“I'd follow you anywhere, honey,” she murmured as she leaned in to kiss him, lips meeting his. Cicero moaned, little keening noise in his throat, and then he was kissing her back, pushing her onto her back, reaching for the buckles on her armour as she reached for the ties on his jester shirt. Then there was no more talking, just touching and kissing and lovemaking and Cicero the Keeper finally found peace.
~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: For a pair of unrepentant murderers, they're a bit cute. Next up, we find out what Elisif's been doing all this time.