Last Laugh

The family once again was gathered together for dinner and sharing stories regarding their latest contracts and past adventures. Some of the faces had gotten more wrinkled over the years, but their personalities had not changed in the slightest. There were even a few newer faces amongst the assassins gathered.

One was the shy but playful Bosmer, Ardwen. The Mer was almost the same age as the Keeper, but the elf blood running through her kept her looking young and her beauty eternal. She had been chosen by Cicero as his successor and was now prepared to care for the Night Mother as diligently as the resident jester.

Another was the mischievous Vianna, daughter of the assassins Vytalas and Kaie. Her arrival was a joy for all the brothers and sisters of the guild. She had been trained early and had began taking on solo contracts at the young age of seventeen.  She took to both the bow and blade like her parents and had an annoying habit of sneaking up on the other assassins and overtaking them.

“Ow!” Dro’marash rubbed at his head and glared at the potato that was now rolling across the floor. “Who threw potatoes at Dro?!”

The feline’s ears flattened as his orange eyes scanned the surrounding brothers and sisters at the table. All looked equally guilty as they were sniggering and avoiding eye contact with the Khajiit.

“The kitty cat is so flustered,” Cicero remarked as he brushed a few gray stands of hair out of his face. “I believe the question you should be asking is why you weren’t able to avoid the potato,” Cicero said, his golden eyes twinkling with merriment.

The Listener chuckled as he leaned over to nuzzle the fool’s neck. For fifty years the Keeper had been his friend and lover. No one understood KaNack the way Cicero did. From the first time they had met, the reptile could sense some kind of spark between them. They loved each other and needed each other. Few that could even hold a candle to the bond that the couple shared.

Cicero was almost a hundred years old now, wrinkled and gray. His jester frock hung loosely on his shrunken frame. The Dark Brotherhood leader still adored him. Even as a frail old man, Cicero’s personality and wit were as sharp as it had ever been and the Listener loved him more than any other on Nirn

“Listener, that tickles,” the Imperial giggled as he playfully shoved the reptile away. The Keeper muttered quietly as he moved his plate to the side signaling he was done eating for the night.

“Are you alright? You’ve barely touched anything on your plate,” the mage remarked in concern.

“Not true,” Cicero quipped as he leaned towards the Listener to speak behind a cupped palm. “Cicero touched the potato, did he not?”

The red and black reptile grinned as the Fool of Hearts stood from the table and bowed gracefully to the rest of the family members.

“I am afraid poor Cicero is quite tired and will be turning in early tonight.” His eyes turned to Ardwen at the end of the table. “Would the kindly Bosmer tend to Mother this evening?”

This was nothing unusual in the sanctuary. There were days in which the Keeper was either sick or too tired to be able to do an efficient job in tending to the Night Mother. It was one of the reasons he had chosen successor and was pleased that she was competent enough in the duties that he could trust her unsupervised.

KaNack watched as his jester vanished into one of the tunnels towards the bedchambers. He could not help but have a nagging suspicion in the back of his head. Something felt amiss tonight, but he was unable to determine just what it was.

“Keep an eye on your Keeper, Listener,” Dro’marash remarked as he pointed his fork at the Argonian accusingly. “If he pulls that stunt again, Dro will put something wicked in his food.”

“You can’t trick a trickster, Dro,” KaNack insisted with a smile. “He’s too clever to fall for any of our ploys.”

“I’ll get him one day,” Vianna chuckled as her red eyes gleamed back to where the jester had vanished. “I know I’ll be able to take Cicero eventually.”

“Good luck with that,” Kaie remarked as she poked at the venison on her plate. “There is only one person in this room that has eve managed to fool the Keeper.” The Breton looked over at the Dark Brotherhood leader. “Only the best can defeat the best.”

“That’s what he’s always told me,” the mage answered quietly as he resumed eating dinner with the others.
****

The Listener paced from side to side in front of the closed doors of his chambers. In the middle of the night, Cicero had begun a coughing fit and was barely able to breathe.

Restoration magic was of no use and KaNack had to rely on the skills of the two skilled alchemists residing in the sanctuary.  The Dark Brotherhood leader could heal wounds, but his lover required medicine, the very best kind of medicine. Both Babette and Dro’marash were working frantically to try and produce a remedy to cure the Keeper of his ailment. They had managed to subdue the coughing, but the breathing was still ragged.

The Argonian would pause his pacing every moment or so to press his ear against the door to see if he could get word of any progress that had been made. He could make out faint hints of Dro’marash suggesting some form of ingredient and the light crunching of the Unchild mixing the reagents.

The other assassins knew that something was amiss with the Keeper, but kept their distance from the Listener’s chambers. He was far too upset to try and console and trying to reassure him would only distress him further.

The Listener stopped his pacing and slammed both palms against the wall of the tunnel, coating it in a fine layer of frost and ice.

“My Listener, you must try and calm yourself.”

The reptile turned around and saw that the Spectral Assassin was now standing before him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he must have felt that he needed the company one whom he felt he could trust to give him an honest answer.

“Lucien,” he choked as he slowly slid to the floor. “You’re an Imperial. Your race can live to be over a hundred, right?” The mage hid his face in his claws as he tried to convince himself that his beloved fool was going to make it through the night. “Cicero is going to recover, isn’t he?”

The spirit sighed deeply as he took a seat next to his distraught caster.

“A hundred is a lengthy life for an Imperial, especially one who does not have magicka flowing through his veins.” The blind eyes of the ghost looked to the side. “I have heard rumors spreading through the Void…” He paused for a moment wondering if it was best to be truly honest with the Dark Brotherhood leader.

“It’s about Cicero,” the mage finished for him sadly. “He’s expected to be arriving there soon.”

“That is what I have heard.”

KaNack shook his head frantically as he grasped at the crimson feathers on his head. “There has to be something we can do,” he flustered out. “I can’t lose him, Lucien.”

“Death comes to us all.”

“Not to him!” the mage snarled as he rose from the floor and glared down at Lachance. “There are other options! The Dark Arts of magic! Vampirism!”

“You would ask the Keeper taint himself for you?” the Speaker hissed viciously as he rose to stand tall before the desperate Listener. “If this is to be his last night on this plane, Listener, that is what Sithis has decreed!”

“Sithis can have someone else,” KaNack spat out venomously. “I’ll claim a hundred souls for Him in replacement of my Cicero.”

Lucien gave the Argonian a tired look. It would do no good arguing with him. He had suffered horrid loss in the past, but this was going to be the worst. This was going to be a death that would haunt him to the end of his extended life.  

“It is borderline impossible to change the mind of our god, Listener,” Lachance explained patiently. “I know it’s hard to accept.”

“Only you could possibly understand, Lucien.” The Listened rested his hand against the door of his room and stared into the deep cracks. “You know what true anguish and loss is.” The Argonian began to pace again. “I can’t stand the thought of losing him. Having to live my life without seeing his face or hearing his voice.”

“I am here for you. What would you ask of me, my Listener?”

KaNack turned back to the spirit, his white eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I want you to lie to me. Just tell me he has a chance, Lucien,” KaNack pleaded as he rested his head against the door frame. “Tell me there is some possibility of Cicero living through the night.”

The Spectral Assassin rested a hand on the assassin’s shoulder sending a cold chill up the reptile’s spine.

“Nothing is ever impossible,” he answered in a low and velvety voice.  

The Dark Brotherhood leader stared into the blind eyes of his spiritual guardian and was about to thank him when the door to his chambers opened. Dro’marash stood before his leader and swallowed forced himself to give the news to the reptile.

“We’ve done all we can, KaNack,” the Khajiit said as he wiped his claws with a rag. “This is not some medical condition we can treat; it’s simply the Keeper’s time.” The black and red feline lowered his head sadly. “He is no longer in pain, but Dro has no idea how much longer he has.”

The small frame of Babette appeared next to Dro’marash and she rested a hand on her apprentice’s arm.

“Before you ask, Listener,” the Unchild began, “I did offer my Dark Gift to Cicero. He refused. He’s accepted his death, have you?”

The Argonian narrowed his eyes at the vampire; as though anything could prepare him for saying goodbye to his dearest companion.

“We’ll leave you two alone then. I’m sure you and Cicero have a lot to say to one another,” she remarked as she and the Khajiit started down the tunnel.  The mage sucked in a deep breath as he entered his chambers and approached the large bed in the center.

The room was littered with half crushed alchemy ingredients and dozens of bowls in Babette and Dro’marash’s attempts to cure the Fool of Hearts. The jester looked to be so tiny and pale on the large bed in KaNack’s room. Grasped in one hand was a rag that was riddled with aged blood stains. It was apparent that the Imperial had been fading for some time and was had kept it hidden from the others.  Cicero’s eyes opened and he smiled when he saw the Argonian and spirit approaching him.

“And here we are, all three of us gathered in these chambers again. Will you be joining us for once, Kindly Specter?”

“That will remain one challenge you shall never undertake, Keeper,” the spirit answered. Lachance smirked as he took a seat in one of the nearby chairs.

KaNack laid himself out on the bed so that he was resting alongside his beloved fool.

“Cicero is keeping his promise, Listener,” the Imperial somehow managed to chirp. “No Morag Tong is killing faithful Cicero.”

“You’re not dying,” the Argonian hissed. “This is just another one of your stunts. I’m not going to fall for your trick.”

“If this is a trick then Cicero must be very good! I’m fooling myself!” The Keeper laughed loudly only to burst into a fit of coughing. He covered his mouth with the rag and frowned at the new bloodstains on the cloth.

“This isn’t very fun. Cicero doesn’t like being sick. It’s boring and I hate being bored. Listener, we must do something to help pass the time for me to recover.” He grinned at the reptile. “After all, I can’t let that elf tend to Mother forever. That’s my job!”

Lucien narrowed his eyes as he watched the two. The Keeper knew damn well that he was dying, but was trying to put forth a strong front for the sake of his lover. Lachance hated to lie to the Listener, but the jester had no qualms if it meant KaNack would remember him as the lively fool he adored.

The Listener reached forward and began to run his claws through the jester’s silver hair. “Do you want to tell stories until you feel better?” the mage offered.

“Cicero loves stories. We have had so many adventures together, my Listener.”

A small smile crept up the red and black reptile’s face. Cicero’s eyes seemed so full of life; he appeared so bright and alert. This didn’t look like one who was sitting on the precipice of the Void.

“Do you remember when we assassinated that entire band of bards?” the Brotherhood leader asked as he continued to stroke the Imperial’s hair.  

“Ooh! Ooh! Yes! We didn’t even bother being sneaky! We ran in and started stabbing and burning madly! What fun! What mirth!”

“What a mess,” Lachance remarked bitterly. “I had to take down a few stragglers with arrows that were at risk of escaping due to your sloppy handiwork.”

The jester cackled loudly. “It was messy! But Cicero likes things to be messy every once in a while! It was so chaotic but so exciting. We made that simple contract into a challenging one and we killed every last singer, strummer and scriber!”  

“Then we shared a bottle of their mead around their campfire, relishing in our tribute to the Dread Father.”

“I wanted to throttle the both of you,” the spirit hissed as he crossed his arms and thought back to that frustrating night.

“Tsk! Tsk! That would be breaking a Tenet! Killing both a Listener and Keeper? How naughty!”

A small smile crept up the ghost’s face as he glanced over at the ailing fool. He was putting on a damned good performance for the Listener. If the Spectral Assassin didn’t know any better, he would have thought that Cicero was only in bed with a common ailment.

“Cicero remembers when newest member of the family arrived in our sanctuary,” the Imperial began as he rolled onto his side and rested a hand on KaNack’s claws. “Little Vianna, the first child to be born into the family.” The fool tittered gleefully. “Cicero had to pester the Dunmer and Breton forever before they finally allowed me to have a turn in training the munchkin!”

“You made her start attacking us and claimed it was exercises!” the reptile laughed. “We could barely sleep because we’d be awoken in the middle of the night by a half-elf poking us with a wooden dagger.”

“Assassins should always be on their guard,” the fool answered with a shrug. “If a child can get the best of you, clearly your skills needed improving, wouldn’t you agree? Hmmmmm?”

“Worst month ever,” KaNack sighed as he beamed lovingly into the dancing golden eyes of his Cicero. “You have a terrible influence on children.”

“Cicero loves children. They are so eager to please and unafraid to try new things.” He smirked at Lachance. “Unlike the kindly specter.”

“Your and my idea of what is practical to learn is clearly on opposite sides of the pole, Keeper.”

“Clearly…coward.”

The ghost made a warning gesture with his hand to the Imperial which only caused Cicero to laugh once more.

“I think one of my fondest memories was simply traveling the realm of Skyrim with you,” KaNack said as his tail swung forward and brushed against the jester’s hip. “Even when I was still with Brelyna, I always loved being with you on the open road. Foiling bandits, clearing dungeons….I was not afraid of dragons so long as I had you by my side.”

“Cicero is fearless, my Listener. There is only one scaly creature that possessed a dragon soul that I cared about.”  The Keeper grunted as he pulled away from the reptile and began to cough violently into the rag once more. Trying to hide his ailment was taking its toll and he could sense the fear and distress building up within his companion. “Cicero is fine, Listener. Just a little cough.”

“Cicero,” the mage groaned as he wrapped an arm around the small Imperial and rested his chin on his shoulder. “Please don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the jester insisted quietly. “How can I move with you holding me like this?”

“Gods, you’re not that good a performer, Cicero!”

“Oh.” The Keeper’s brow furrowed. “Pity. I guess my talent has taken a bit of a downward spiral as I’ve gotten older. Still, the Fool of Hearts has put on quite a show over the years. A jester though and through to the bitter end! Right, Listener?”

The Imperial frowned as he felt his lover hold him closer and could feel the reptile shaking, trying to refrain from crying.

“Oh,” Cicero remarked sadly. “Please don’t cry, Listener. If you cry, then poor Cicero will as well and a fool should leave this world with a smile.”

“Cicero, I need you,” he pleaded quietly as he leaned over to stare into the aged face of the Fool of Hearts. “I can’t possibly continue without you by my side. You’re my faithful Keeper.”

“You have a new Keeper who…”

“She’s not MY Keeper!” he howled frantically. “She’ll never be my Keeper! Gods, Cicero, no one could ever replace you!”

“That we can both agree upon at least,” the Imperial said solemnly as he reached up to caress the face of the crumbling Argonian above him. Slender fingers maneuvered around the small spikes jutting from KaNack’s cheeks.  “Death comes to us all, does it not, my Listener?”

“Not to you. Your place is here in the Dark Brotherhood.”

“Why are you so afraid, Listener?” the jester asked as he smiled up at the mage. “Cicero is not. The Void is where all of Cicero’s fallen family and friends are. The Void is where the worthy sons and daughters are blessed with an eternity with no pain nor sorrow. This is a happy day; can you not be happy for poor Cicero?”

“How can I be happy with you dying?”

“I may be dying, but I can say you are dying as well. I have served Sithis and the Night Mother well and now they are pulling me into their loving arms. From their love I was born and I will return to them worthy of their love.”

The Argonian burrowed his head into the blanket not daring to release his beloved fool. “I need more time, Cicero. I’m not ready to let you go yet.”

“Cicero is exhausted, Listener,” the Keeper whimpered weakly. “Just let me rest my eyes. I’m so tired I feel like I could sleep like a log.” A smirk crept up the Keeper’s face. “Let’s hope I don’t wake up in the fireplace, hmmm?”

The jester began to chuckle quietly and despite himself KaNack began to snicker well.

“Cicero, don’t make me laugh. I don’t want to laugh while you’re…”

The Argonian froze as he no longer felt the sensation of Cicero’s breathing. He stared into the face of his Keeper. The Imperial still had his familiar smirk plastered on his face, but other than that he was free of any form of movement.

“Cicero?” KaNack cried.  “This isn’t funny. Wake up.”

The Argonian shuddered as he heard Lucien begin to chant quietly behind him.

“Sweet Mother Sweet Mother we return your child to thee, may his soul be embraced by your love.
Sweet Mother Sweet Mother watch over his spirit, may he live forever knowing neither fear nor pain.
Sweet Mother Sweet Mother watch over us all, may we prove ourselves worthy to join him in darkness
Sweet Mother Sweet Mother let us stand strong, may we never forget our Brother in arms.”

“You bastard,” the Argonian hissed viciously down at the smiling face. “You made me laugh as you died. How could you make me do such a thing?” The mage held the fool tighter as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to embrace the warmth of his beloved Cicero before the chill of death claimed his body.

“My Listener?” the Speaker began as he approached the two.

“Leave us,” KaNack commanded in a shaky breath. “Please, just let me be.”

Lachance sighed heavily as he began to back away from the heartbroken Argonian.

“Death comes to us all, Listener. We work hard so that we may be rewarded with a place amongst our Brothers and Sisters in the Void.”

“By the gods, would you please just go?!” the reptile sobbed, refusing to release his hold on the Imperial. The Spectral Assassin removed himself from the chambers as ordered leaving the Dark Brotherhood leader to mourn in privacy.  

“Fifty years,” KaNack whispered quietly as he nuzzled into the crook of the Keeper’s neck. “For fifty years the two of us have shared this bed. For fifty years you served as my other half. What am I supposed to do now, Cicero? How am I supposed to go on when you have left where I cannot follow?” Pressing his lips to the jester’s, the mage slowly pulled himself away as he gazed upon his lost lover.

“Sithis had better take care of you Cicero. I will not tolerate you having anything short of the very best in the Void.”  He narrowed his eyes. “I will never have another so you best not fool around with anyone else there!” A small chuckle sounded in his throat. “But then again, you are a jester. What else can you do but fool around?”

His head dropped as he released a shaky breath.  “In the end, you got the last laugh my Keeper. You win.”