The Nightshades: Chapter One

Games > Elder Scroll Series > Pre Skyrim
Pairings: Cicero / Future Dragonborn - Listener
Location:  Bravil 188 4E (well before events at Helgen in 4E 201)

Story Status: Complete!
(All Chapters 1 - 6 posted)

Summary:  Tasked with delivering an important message to the Listener Alisanne Dupre in Bravil, a young and cocky Cicero let's curiosity get the best of him.  The Listener's stammering and seemingly meek apprentice Beatriz, he soon learns is but a year his junior.  She is also an "innocent" and not apart of the Dark Brotherhood.  At least not yet according to Alisanne and even though Cicero is ordered, during his short stay to help protect yet keep his distance from her apprentice, he cannot help but bend the rules.  To not just find out why Beatriz holds the Night Mother's interest but his as well.

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5th of Last Seed, 4E 188

We received word today - the Wayrest Sanctuary was raided and destroyed by the corsairs. There were no survivors.

There are now only three active Dark Brotherhood strongholds remaining: The Cheydinhal Sanctuary, here in the Imperial Province; a remote Sanctuary located in a forest in Skyrim; and the Corinthe Sanctuary of Elsweyr.

The Black Hand has ordered the Corinthe Sanctuary closed, and its members integrated into our own ranks here, in Cheydinhal. I will embrace those new family members as warmly as I was, when I first made my home here.

-Cicero's Journal - Volume II

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Cicero hated being the youngest among his brothers and sisters of the Black Hand. Mainly due to how some of them snickered over how their Speaker Rasha expected him to always be the errand boy more often than the lowliest of assassins.  

Well, today the joke is on all of them!

He thought with a cocky grin and puffed up his strong broad chest. It took everything in him not to strut down the road. For true, he might be only nearing his seventeenth year and was still the smallest assassin of the Cheydinhal Sanctuary but today he was about to complete and important task. He was to deliver a sealed letter to only the Listener herself. Finally he was going to formally meet the leader of the Black hand, his ultimate superior only short of their beloved Night Mother.  

As the town of Bravil came into view, from the outside to Cicero it seemed as well off as any other city of Cyrodiil. But as he crossed the bridge and passed through the gate behind the city's walls he found everything a little bit rougher about the edges than expectation. The roads were gravel at best and just dirt in others. Nothing was paved and boardwalks lined the fronts of shops. Most of the homes were stacked upon them or one another to three stories high. Besides the Great Chapel of Mara and the castle all of the other structures were made of aged grey wood and greening plaster with rock foundations. Still Cicero liked it all the same. The touch of seedy here and there made this smaller town a far more exciting location than Cheydinhal. Or so he thought. A place for some real trouble and in turn all the more fun.

Finally! Some-ooooh!

Easily distracted, Cicero honed in and deftly snatched a sweetroll from a market stand with a smirk and all without the guards or anyone noticing. But more amusement than pinching and gobbling down his favored snack around the corner would have to come later.  

Recalling Rasha's directions Cicero easily enough located the Listener's house. It was slightly larger than most others, two stories tall and not far from the Lady Luck Statue. At finding it, in happiness Cicero gave into another moment of silliness since nobody at the moment was about to see.

An indulgence his older childhood and literal fool for a friend always gave into without a care. Even though they saw one another rarely now, Cicero hoped Atticus with such an esteemed position, performing for the court in the Imperial City, would put aside some of his crueler and more nastier habits. After all the fool had no need to hunt now and therefore no opportunity to torment any animals instead of simply killing them for coin and supper.

Pushing aside those uncomfortable moments he witnessed when hunting with his friend years ago, Cicero danced playfully up and down the stairs before knocking. He also cleared his throat and wiped away the grin from his face and crumbs upon his dark clothing. Trying to take on a more appropriate look of a grim assassin.  But as he waited a nagging sensation washed over him as if he had forgotten something.  He hated the feeling since it always resulted in him getting yelled at by his Speaker or other superior. Checking his satchel one more time he let out a breath of relief. The thick letter was still there and the red wax seal intact. When the Breton lady of the house answered the door Cicero could not help the wide grin from returning. Even though her pale sage eyes widened at the sight of him upon her doorstep in alarm.

"Mistress Alisanne Dupre? Is it really you? Such an honor to meet you Lis-"

"Shut up," Mistress Dupre hissed, grabbed upon the front of his hooded black cloak and yanked him inside. "Are you an idiot or did Rasha fail to mention to come after dark!  And why are you wearing those in broad daylight in town!" She pointed to his enchanted shrouded gauntlets which he obediently took off and stuffed away.

He opened his mouth to try and answer that indeed the Khajiit did.  

Or maybe it really did slip my mind after all. Which is it? Oh dear! So that was what I forgot! Damm! Well so much for a good first impression.

He worried away and gave his Mistress at least a contrite look. Seeing it Alisanne's expression softened and with a weary sigh she checked up and down the street. Finding nobody upon it she closed the front door and grumbled, "Just my poor luck! My apprentice will be back soon from gathering ingredients. Sadly it’s about the only aspect of alchemy she does not mess up. Still a bright girl in other schools of magicka." Cicero noticed how the Listener started to glow with pride as she continued, "My little bee took right to learning flames and healing but I don't dare teach her more just yet. Too much power too soon could make her become far too dangerous for anyone's good. Come along and let this be quick!"

As she pulled at the knee of her green robes to start up the stairs Cicero wondered aloud, "Why? Is she not a sister, Listener?"

"Doesn't anyone tell you anything?" She gave him a bewildered and pitying look over her shoulder. To his silence she paused when they reached the second floor hallway and reassured. "All you need to know is she's to not be harmed and needs to be protected at all costs."

"I don't understand. If she is not a sister then-"

"You don't need to. It is the will of the Night Mother. All you need to do is obey her command."  

"Of course! Of course!" Cicero agreed readily with wide eyes as they started to walk again.

"Good because hopefully for my sake and hers she will never be needed for more than what you do anytime soon," Mistress Dupre muttered cryptically under her breath but not quiet enough. Cicero close at her heels, silent as the dead beamed over how the oh great and powerful Listener did not notice how he heard everything. At least so he thought as she jerked to a stop and he crashed into her.

“Pardon me! Sorry Mistress!”

The short middle aged Breton fussed to throw back her shoulder long silver streaked brown hair from her full face. Then turning with a sigh and tapping a finger at his chest she emphasize each and every word. "Just remember, for now she is innocent still and from a good family. I will not have someone like you corrupting her just yet. An easy thing perhaps, since you look to be of the same age."

"Corrupt? Even with the briefest of visits? But I can be-have!"

"Behave he says," She snorted softly back and grinned at how his deep voice had cracked. Shaking her head the Listener led them to the door at the end of the hall. Unlocking it and entering her office she squinted at him again. "I think I remember you from my visit at Last Rain's Hand now. Cicero is it not? The one who completed the Arena contract?”  To his rapid nod she sat down with a small smile. “It was well done and just how old exactly are you boy?"

"Boy!" His voice choosing to go high again at that moment did not help his argument. At her cocked brow he immediately stopped frowning and straightened. "Why sixteen Listener! Oh please, it would be so nice to have some company of my age even-"

"No," she cut him off and stuck out her hand. At his confused and hurt look she reminded playfully, "The letter or is there another reason for you to come and disturb my peace?"

"Sorry Listener only this very important letter." With a blush and his shoulders slumping Cicero patted down his dark robes before remembering it was in the satchel and handed the bulky sealed message over. As she started to open it he sighed out loud, "Humf! Doubt she’s of the same age anyways."

"She is indeed not but a year your junior and still no!  Best you are not even here when she returns."

"But-"

"I'm not doing this to be mean. The Night Mother simply does not wish her to be a part of the family just yet. Why you think? I'm guessing with exception of the Shadowscales and you she prefers assassins with some age."    

"Ah! So she has not murdered anyone yet," Cicero declared cheerfully.

"Correct, till then she is not strong enough in Mother's eyes. Plus you and I both know this life is not-well it's not an easy one. Especially as of late with all of our losses."

Shifting from one foot to another Cicero agreed, "True.  So you are preparing her now? Does she know who you really are? Suspect?"

"By Sithis no and I hope not. I've tried my best to keep her completely in the dark of our business. True, I am your Listener but I also strive to always follow the rules as any other of our brothers and sisters. Telling her would break a tenant would it not? Again, only once she has killed can we bring her into the fold."

"The second tenet yes but what if she never-"

"She will," Mistress Dupre reassured with a certainty that only Sithis himself could offer. With dark smile she added, "It's in her to kill.  It's only a matter of time."

"In that case it would be so very interesting to meet her now. Why in fact if we were to become friends perhaps when she does join us she will find it less um... daunting?"  

"No."

Not failing to sway her from decision Cicero tried in earnest to give her the saddest of looks.  

To his sad humming she paused and looked up from the letter exasperated. "Silence! So I may concentrate and compose a response. Now sit and stop fidgeting."

Cicero bit back the whine at the idea of sitting so very still. With nothing to do but wait he reluctantly moved to do as ordered. Upon reaching the chair however the back door opened then closed. Causing both assassins to freeze and meet one another's eyes growing large. Mistress Dupre's in sheer alarm. Cicero's in wicked joy.

"She's back! Your apprentice is back!" Cicero cried out cheerfully in a stage whisper. "Please Listener! Oh please let me distract her for-"

"Shhh!" Alisanne hissed and started turning over papers. Presumably more correspondences from other members of their order.

Biting his lower lip Cicero obeyed, waited and watched his Mistress for what to do next. That and it was rather amusing to see the Leader of the Black Hand so utterly flustered.

"M-mistress? I had no la-luck finding nigh-nightshades. Are you ho-home?" The Listener's apprentice called out from downstairs and they could hear her starting to explore the house.  

"Lock the door! Be quick!"  

Cicero jumped to Alisanne's mouthed command yet with a pout turned to obey and not a moment too soon.   For shortly after he clicked it secure there was a soft tapping at the door.

"M-mistress? Ca-company again? S-sorry to di-do-dis... disturb you."

Oh she sounds pretty! Even more so with that sweet stammering voice!

Cicero exclaimed silently, yet as commanded he dared not to make even a single sound. Instead he turned to give another pleading look back to the Listener and pondered.

Humm… should I use tears? I do wonder if that would-no… no don’t be silly! That would be far too much.

He offered instead an expression filled with pure sorrow. The emotional manipulation however did not work. The look the Listener returned was not kind at all but her voice was as she called back. "Oh don't be Beatriz my dear. Just head back downstairs and start work on preparing what you've collected with the mortar and pestle. I just have an important letter to write and send off with this messenger."

"Do you want m-me to try to m-make another p-pa-potion to-too?"

"Goodness no! Not without my supervision again just yet.  Now do as told and for the love of lady luck stay away from my new retort and alembic. I will try to be down shortly."

"As you wa-wish, sssorry ta-to have di-disturbed you and for the am-am-well sa-sorry again."

And with that her apprentice’s steps faded away. Cicero's frown deepened and he tried one more time for Mistress Dupre to permit him to formally meet and speak with Beatriz. Hoping perhaps that at least the young woman would find him amusing.  

Because ever since the loss of the Burma Sanctuary everyone at Cheydinhal was upon edge. Cicero being one of the few survivors to escape by pure luck of running an errand for the Speaker there had dealt with the deaths in his own way. Trying to honor his fellow Black Hand brothers and sisters by telling others jokes and stories. A way to never forget them but nobody was amused. Everyone was also a little bit paranoid. So much so the Black Hand stopped hiring outside messengers. Hence Cicero found himself once more the errand boy when not reading or trying to make poisons and doing the very simplest of contracts.

Sighing the Listener explained, “I don’t know how but she made the alembic explode and fractured the retort so bad it can't collect anything of use. Do you have any idea how hard it is to replace master quality items such as those?”

"Oh-oh yes! Very hard. In fact I do know quite a few things about alchemy! Why according to Synnolian Tunifus and Anarenen with alembic one places the arcane properties of natural and supernatural substances to be distilled from their raw form by simply infusing them in water. Well usually water-but then one just heats the alembic until vapor is produced. The vapor is then condenses in a separate container allowing the precipitation from the distilled elements with the desired magical properties. Now the retort could have gotten plugged perhaps if I may assist her-"

"Nice try, again… not yet. And please not another word or I'll send you outside. Where you can wait in that bright sun and from the looks of that red hair of yours, probably burn to a crisp."  

Sitting back down, Mistress Dupre ignored his huff and started reading. What she did not see was Cicero's outrage melt slowly into a smirk. An idea coming to mind he forced one last sad look and opened his mouth. "But Listener-"

"Wait outside and try to do so without her seeing you."

Jumping up from the chair and to attention, Cicero asked, "And what if she catches me? Whatever shall I do then?"

"Tell her you are the messenger. Now shoo," Mistress Dupre waved him off without pulling her eyes off of the report.

It took all of his self-control not to laugh as he quietly unlocked the door to dutifully carry out the order. But before he slipped out, he grinned and whispered, "Very well Mistress. I will try my best to not let her see me. Oh yes, I will certainly try."