Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Cicero, the Keeper of the Night Mother, greeted me with a smile as I entered the Dawnstar Sanctuary, taking my helmet off and shaking my hair out, slightly damp with sweat, framing my face in the dim candlelight.

“Listener! Welcome home!” Cicero squealed with delight. He was always thrilled to see me, always ready to worship the ground I walked upon. Of course, it was always a joy to see him, too, but I couldn’t help but feel a slight pain in my chest whenever I saw him so willing to serve me. Something deep within me always asked, whenever he put his devotion and loyalty on display: Had he ever known what it was like to have someone serve and worship him the same way? Had he, the broken-minded Fool of Hearts, ever truly felt love? It was a question that plagued my mind every time I was near him, every time I felt his hand on my shoulder or heard his voice in my ear.

“How was your latest adventure, my Listener?” He said, sitting down across from me at the table just a few feet from where the Night Mother’s coffin was prominently displayed, pulling me away from my thoughts. “Cicero wants all the details. The bloodier, the better.”

He leaned toward me across the table, his hands folded together. He had that gleam in his eyes and that smirk on his face that never ceased to make me just a little nervous. It was almost like he was toying with me, almost like he knew he got to me whenever his eyes met mine in that way…

“Well,” I began with a sigh, leaning back in my chair to create some distance between us so I could properly control myself, “It was the usual adventure, I suppose. Most of the time I was gone was spent hunting down bandits and looting their corpses of all their worth, then selling off the loot to whoever would buy it. I’ve been getting better at picking locks, too. I seem to get better at that fairly quickly these days.”

As I spoke, rambling on and on about everything I had done while I was away, Cicero's gaze never left my face, seeming as though he was closely watching my lips move as I spoke. He was almost making me nervous, and he would have, if it weren't for me getting lost in my story, now going on about becoming bloodkin to the Orcs.

“I’ve even found someone new who's willing to travel with me, an Orc woman named Borgakh,” I mentioned, not really thinking anything of it. But as I said those words, Cicero frowned slightly, looking a bit uneasy, and my heart ached. I reached out and gently took his gloved hand into my own, holding it gently as I met his piercing gaze, lowering my voice to soothe him. “But no one could ever be as good a traveling companion as you are, Cicero.”

His smile returned, and he rubbed his thumb along the bare skin of my hand. “Thank you, my Listener. That means more to Cicero than you will ever know. I live to serve you, and I am always eager to accompany you on your adventures, to be by your side and at your beck and call.”

A comfortable silence fell between us as I gazed into the jester’s eyes, my lips curling into a soft smile of my own. There had always been a tension between us, an unspoken spark that neither of us had ever seriously pursued.

And still, that feeling, that damned feeling, was gnawing at me.

Chapter Text

The Night Mother’s voice rang in my ears, only slightly less off-putting than the sound of a nirnroot, only a few nights later as I lay awake in bed. Damn that ghostly woman, I didn’t even need to approach her anymore, she would just speak to me, seemingly whenever she pleased. I would never disrespect her, but sometimes, secretly, I grew tired of the orders.

I sat up in bed, unable to sleep and nearly unable to think as I tried to memorize the location she wanted me to travel to and the name of the contact she needed me to speak to. I nodded obediently in the darkness, not knowing whether she had the ability to see me, wanting her to know I was listening. Once she had finished, I sighed, running a hand across my eyes. So tired, but I could not disrespect Mother.

I could, however, seek a little bit of comfort.

As quietly as I could, knowing the others, Nazir, Babette, and the new recruits, needed their rest, I got up and crept through the sanctuary, my feet softly padding against the stone floors. After walking through the halls of the Dawnstar Sanctuary, I came up the stairs to the entryway, quietly peeking around the corner. Cicero was still working, still keeping, still tending to the Night Mother, even in the late hours of the night, and for once I saw him without his gloves on, just a bit more of his skin exposed than usual as he gently washed the Unholy Matron’s body with essential oils.

He was so careful with her, so gentle and reverent, it almost made me jealous. I had to shake the impure thoughts away from my head, as much as I wanted to think them…

And smacked my head against the stone wall.

“Ahhh…” I let out in pain before I could stop myself, my hand reaching up to cup the bruise quickly forming on my temple. Of course, alerted of my presence by the noise, Cicero turned around to look at me.

“Listener? Are you alright?” He said, discarding the bottle of oil onto the floor, careful to put it where he wouldn’t accidentally knock it over later. He rushed to my side, leaning down to where I was kneeling on the ground with pain and tilting my head up to look at him.

My eyes widened as I saw the look on his face, the concern in his eyes unlike any he had shown for me before. In this dim light, now even darker this late into the night, his high cheekbones were especially prominent, his smile lines were clear, and his eyes were filled with a deep desire to care for me.

“Yes, I’m alright…” I said softly, my head still pounding and my vision swimming slightly.

He smiled, his eyes looking me up and down, making sure I was alright everywhere else before lingering on my bruise. “What happened? Cicero thought the Listener was asleep, and then here you come up the stairs and you get yourself hurt…” He murmured, ‘tsk’ing with his tongue with disapproval.

“I was just coming up to talk to you. I haven't been able to sleep because of Mother's whispering in my mind…”

He brought one of his hands up to gently touch my wound, the skin of his palms so much softer than I ever would have imagined, his touch so careful as he ran his fingers over the bruise. He didn't go manic at my mention of the Night Mother as I suspected he would, instead nodding understandingly as he ran his free hand over my flushed red cheek.

“You wanted Cicero’s company,” he muttered under his breath, his eyes widening just slightly – it was still hard to detect his smaller movements because of my injury, though it was ever so slowly improving. Chugging a jar of Molasses would have been faster – as both of his hands now gently cradled my face. “Well, if you truly cannot sleep, I suppose you can accompany me whilst I tend to Mother. I’m almost done; it shouldn't be too long. I just need to say a few prayers.”

He stood up, slowly so that I was able to stand with him, and took my hand, guiding me toward the Night Mother’s coffin and allowing me to lean against the wall as he went back to his work. His soft voice filled the quiet chamber, his whispered prayers to Sithis and the Unholy Matron filling the surrounding silence. I closed my eyes and listened to him, and every now and again I could feel the sensation of his eyes lingering on me for just a moment.

A soft smile made its way onto my face, even with the pain that still lingered on my temple, as I heard Cicero’s soft voice concluding his final prayer:

“...And thank you, Dread Lord, for bringing me to the Listener. She has proven to be the one true key to saving the Dark Brotherhood, and more than that, she has proven to be a woman I almost admire as much as our Mother, a woman I will gladly serve and protect for the rest of my days until the Void claims us both.”

Chapter Text

“That should do it,” muttered Cicero, nodding his head in approval as he gently set the Night Mother upright in her coffin, retrieving the bottle of oil from the floor and corking it before putting it back into his belt pouch, closing the Matron’s coffin with a thud of the stone doors. “Now then, Listener, Cicero thinks it’s about time you returned to bed. You must rest if you want that nasty bruise to get any better.”

I opened my eyes as he addressed me, rubbing my temple softly, the pain still lingering, my headache still immense. “I suppose you’re right,” I replied, taking his hand as he offered it to me. We walked together, hand in hand, to the master bedroom, in which I resided whenever I was home in the Sanctuary, and I sat on the edge of the bed, looking up at him.

“Good night, Listener,” he said, keeping his voice low. His eyes shone with that familiar kindness and loyalty, and still that ache lingered within my soul. “Cicero will be in his chambers, should you need me.”

“Wait!” I said, grabbing at his overcoat. “Cicero, could you… Could you stay here?”

Cicero looked shocked, his eyes wide as a smile of disbelief swept across his face. “Of course, Listener. I’ll stay for as long as you want me to. Cicero promises.” He sat down on the bed next to me, looking over at me as his smile softened. “Would you like me to tell you a joke, or perhaps a story? You know I’d do anything to serve the Listener.”

My face felt hot, but I couldn’t back down and send him away now. Not when he was so close, when we were so close…

“Anything, Cicero?” I murmured, knowing how foolish I must have looked with my flushed cheeks and shaking voice. I leaned in just a bit closer to whisper to him, resting my hands on top of his and gazing into his eyes, not bothering to hide my longing anymore. “Anything at all?”

“Well, yes,” he hesitated, his face still holding the same surprised expression as his body began to relax. “I suppose I do have my limits, though admittedly there are not many… I’ll do nearly anything you ask of me, and of course that extends to you also being able to do whatever you wish to Cicero… Within reason.”

His voice was careful as he spoke, as though he was considering every word that passed his lips, and his eyes kept darting away from mine sheepishly. For a moment, he even appeared to be blushing. I smiled and nodded understandingly, giving his hands a reassuring squeeze. “I just want you to do one thing right now, my Keeper. I would like it if you laid down with me for a while, if you let me hold you as I fall asleep.”

He let out an audible sigh of relief, smiling and tilting his head up to the ceiling, resting his hand on his forehead. “Listener… you made Cicero nervous there!” he said, his tone amused and exasperated, as though he had been holding his breath. He lowered his arm and his head, leaning down to rest his elbows on his knees. “You had me thinking that you wanted to do something much more than that! Cicero is happy to comply; it gets lonely all alone at night, so this’ll be… nice.”

“But, uhh…” he muttered, a little awkwardly, and a little unexpectedly. “Do allow me a moment to… undress.”

I could feel my face grow hot once again. “O-of course,” I stammered, nodding and allowing him to stand up. My eyes fell to the floor, and all I could do was listen to the sounds of his belt unbuckling the ties of his collar and overcoat, both falling away from his body. His hat came off and was lightly tossed onto the bed and into my peripheral vision, and my heart raced as I realized I had never seen Cicero without it on before. I had never seen his hair as it flowed freely, and I couldn’t stop thinking about what he must have looked like, the view right in front of me, yet so far away… Next to come off were his boots, which he stepped out of easily and set aside, against the wall of the bedroom. Then his shirt and pants, sliding off his body with only a slight huff. It was killing me not to look up, but I would not break nor disrespect his trust in me.

But as my mind raced, as my body ached to see him, he set his fingers under my chin and lifted my head up until I was looking him in the eyes.

“Cicero hopes you didn’t think he slept in all his day clothes, Listener,” he purred, likely lower than he meant to. A part of me wanted his tone to have intent behind it, wanted him to purposefully tease me. “He may be mad, but even Cicero has standards.”

I couldn’t help but blush. It felt impossible to do anything else while he stood in front of me in nothing but his loincloth. My eyes drifted downward tantalizingly slowly. I could feel Cicero smirking, feeling my gaze go lower and lower until I was staring straight down at his bulge, swallowing hard so I didn’t accidentally drool.

He chuckled softly, running his hand across my face and behind my head, working it down to gently hold the back of my neck. He leaned forward, his breath hot against my ear, my eyes trembling closed at the sound, the feeling. “See something you like, Listener?” He whispered, his voice containing much more intent now.

“Cicero…” I whimpered softly, my body shuddering, unable to move any more significantly.

“I certainly see something I like,” he crooned softly into my ear, his breath hot against my neck, sending a shiver up my spine. “With your permission, Cicero will take care of you. Cicero will do whatever he can to soothe you and sate your desires. Lay back for me, sweet Listener.”

Cicero gently pushed me down into a laying down position on the bed, slowly and carefully getting on top of me, giving me every chance to reject his advances or push him away. He lowered himself onto me further, sensing the way my body sank into the soft down mattress, lifting up his hand to brush a stray hair from my face.

From my view below, he had never looked better. His eyes glimmered with equal reverence and hunger as he looked down at me, the soft candlelight hitting his face so perfectly. His high cheekbones and flowing red hair hypnotized me, my mouth hanging open just slightly as I gazed up at the godlike sight above me, his weight pressing down against mine, his loincloth doing little to stop his growing bulge from pressing against my inner thigh.

Leaning down to kiss my neck, his lips felt warm and soft on my skin. “You have no idea how long Cicero has been waiting to have the Listener like this,” he whispered, his voice muffled as he continued to press gentle, worshipping kisses to my neck. My eyes were shut tightly, my hands coming up to wrap around him as I let out a soft moan. He hummed softly in approval as he heard the slight noise, letting out a moan of his own against my neck in response. The vibration sent a wave of pleasure over my skin, and I knew right then that I wanted this, I wanted to give him pleasure. I wanted to serve him just as he had served me since I had become the Listener and killed Astrid. Just as faithfully, just as willingly.

“Mmm, Cicero…” I moaned, the sound soft and sweet as it left my lips.

He smirked, running a hand over the edge of my face, brushing a few stray hairs from my forehead reverently. “Yes, Listener?”

My eyes slowly fluttered open, and I looked up to meet his gaze. Butterflies flew through my stomach, and I almost couldn’t speak, but there was something soothing in Cicero’s gaze that allowed me to get rid of all my inhibitions. “I… I want to serve you tonight. I want to worship you,” I whispered, bringing my hand up to cradle his face in my palm.

He leaned into my touch, his skin soft and warm, and turned his head, pressing a kiss to my palm. “My dear, sweet Listener…” he began, his eyes looking just barely away from my own, “I’m honored that you want to serve Cicero, that you would even consider worshipping such a fool as I. I must admit, no one has ever wanted to… No one has ever asked to…”

He bit his lip, trying to find the right words. “Cicero still wants to serve the Listener… Is it possible that we could worship each other?”

I threaded my free hand into his hair, gently pulling his head down to nuzzle his nose against mine. I couldn’t help but smile as I whispered, “nothing would make me happier.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do, my sweet Listener. Cicero will serve you just as reverently as if you were the Night Mother herself, and I will allow you to worship me, as well.”

A smirk formed on my lips, my hands remaining on his face and in his hair. I didn’t speak, but the look on my face was enough to show my gratitude for him, and my excitement for the night of passion that laid before us.