random stories

skyrim - cicero x reader (not finished)

Pain racked your body.

“Damn Imperials.” You hissed, tearing bits of shirt away to press against the wound. Your attempts were futile and you were running out of fabric quick. With peering eyes, you tried to spot anything of use, but you could only find the empty bottle of a healing potion you used moments before.

It had alleviated some of the pain, but nonetheless, you were still bleeding out at an alarming rate. It would be sundown soon and you would most certainly be dead before next morn.

A soft hum caught your ears, and the voice continued a small song, pausing to chuckle and giggle with each strange lyric.

The voice giggled madly again and now, the sound of a horse drawn carriage met your ears. You just wanted to die in peace.

Can’t I ever catch a damn break? You thought to yourself. The last thing you wanted was to be killed by some mad wandering merchant. With a hiss of pain, you ducked behind a large rock, settling with your back against it.

You shut your eyes, waiting for the merchant to pass by you, but they suddenly stopped.

“Ah, Dear Mother! The weather is so wonderful! Yes, Cicero thinks it is.” The voice belonged to a man and you dared to peek around the rock. He was dressed in a jesters outfit and you bit back a groan of annoyance. “Cicero should let the pony rest, yes.”

He giggled again and you listened to him release the horse from the carriage, leading it over to a small brook of water. His small frame cane into your view and you found yourself staring at him. He had a soft jawline and deep eyes, his red hair was mostly tucked beneath his odd jester hat and his fingers busied themselves with twirling a dagger. His nose looked like it had been broken and reset one too many times, but it was left with an odd charm.

You figured his name was Cicero, or at least the name he referred to himself as. Despite him speaking to someone before, he wasn’t accompanied by another. Just himself, watching the dark coated horse graze in the thin grass.

The jester hummed to himself as he gathered water from the stream. You were almost surprised he hadn’t realized you were watching him.

-

It was nightfall and Cicero had set up camp not even fifty paces from you. Yet still, he did not notice. Whether he was stupid or just tired, was not up to you to decide, though you heavily agreed with the former.

The warm fire beckoned you and rather suddenly, you found yourself not wanting to die alone.

With a soft hiss of pain, you clambered up, clutching the large rock to support yourself. You limped to the little man and sat across from him at the fire.

His eyes darted to you with haste and he unscathed his blade.

“Whoah!” you cried as he circled around the fire. “Relax, I’m too tired to fight anyways.”

“Who are you?” He croaked, sheathing his weapon. “What do you want with Cicero and the Night Mother?”

“Nothing. Just a bit of warmth before I die.” You mumbled, knowing you were bleeding through your shirt again. The white tunic sopped up the blood eagerly. With a sigh, you began to realize you shouldn’t have moved at all.

Cicero's dark eyes fell to your abdomen and he clicked with distaste. “Poor bunny, Cicero can help.”

Bunny? You questioned, a strange look resting on your face.

The jester jingled off to his cart, and you could only hear him. The fire and moon shed little light. Cicero returned with a bag.

“Cicero has many supplies! The Keeper can help the poor bunny.” He giggled, plopping down next to you, and gently pushing you onto your back. He fiddled for a moment before lifting up your shirt. He glanced at your wounds, the one that had been, literally, killing you was from a deep dagger slice that trailed from your right hip up to the lowest bit of your left ribcage. There were other minor wounds that had mostly healed from the potion like quick nips of knives and burns from the mage of the group that had ambushed you.

Cicero hummed a soft tune, starting to wipe the blood away. His hands made a burning sensation on your skin, but it wasn’t painful. It just left the skin a bit warmer than before. Your eyes fluttered closed.

At least I won’t die alone. You thought with a soft smile. Even if he is probably crazy.

-

The feeling of being tossed side to side awoke you with a displeasing feeling. Suddenly, the whole wagon dipped beneath you and you released a startled sound.

“No! Night Mother! Bunny! Cicero will fix this.” Cicero said, hurriedly. You sat up to see him darting around the wagon to assess the damage.

“Cicero?” You called. He looked up at you.

“The wheel… Cicero cannot fix this on his own. Ah! But! Look there a farm!!” Cicero cried, joyously. He skipped off up the trail, leaving you alone with the horse and the giant box. Slightly disturbed by the ominous box, you slid off the wagon and hobbled over to the horse. It slightly turned its head to look at you, brown eyes humble and kind. With a smile, you stroked its neck and patted its head. You watched Cicero huff and puff down the walk way, angry.

He approached you. “The bunny wouldn’t happen to know how to fix a wagon wheel, would you?”

You shook your head. You weren’t good for much past low level sword fighting. Cicero grumbled and stood at the rear of the wagon, simply staring at the wheel as if it were to fix itself.

-

You and Cicero had been stuck there for two days. What little portions he had were thinning out. As a last resort, you offered to walk to the nearest town, that being Whiterun. Which, even still was a ways to walk.

Cicero frowned, “Take Cicero's horse, bunny. The Night Mother will not mind a bit more wait. Cicero will talk to the farmer again, even if in vain.”

You nodded and grabbed his bag. Carefully, you mounted the horse, and set off at a slow trot down the road.

The midday sun glared down at you and you kept a steady pace with the horse.

You guided the horse to the stable boy and offered him a few septims to keep the horse safe. With heavy limbs, you trailed up the way to the entrance. The guard in front of the gate stopped you.

“Halt! City’s closed with the dragons about. Official business only.” He said. You didn’t have official business.

“My… friend and I are stranded just North of here. All I need are provisions, but perhaps this might change your mind?” You offered him a pouch of coins and a bottle of mead.

The guard snatched them up, “Alright, but no funny business. Get what you need and hurry out.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, passing by him to open the gate. Once inside, you headed towards the market, buying fruits and water, then headed over to the potion shop. You closed the door softly behind you and a small woman skittered out to the front desk.

“You don’t look so good.” She mumbled.

“Yeah, I would assume so since I was ambushed. I need health potions. All of your stock.” You said, slamming down a large bag of septims. She glanced at it, surprised, before hurrying around the shop.

-

When you returned, the farmer was helping Cicero with the wagon wheel. The jester looked up to you as you approached. You pulled the reins and the horse stopped. You slid off, handing Cicero’s bag back to him. He peered inside with delight.

“You got him to help, Cicero?” You asked. He shook his head.

“No, no. A kind stranger came along and offered to talk to the farmer for Cicero! What joy!” Cicero grinned, hopping about. 

You lips quirked up.

“Cicero was worried you would run off, bunny. With his horse and gold.” He muttered.

“I’m back. You… saved my life back there. I don’t really think I had been ready to die.” You chuckled. The farmer stood and eyed you both cautiously.

“The wagon is fixed.” He said, and then left up the trail.

“So, where are you headed, Cicero?” You questioned. Cicero attached the horse to the wagon and clambered up to the seat. You joined him.

“A new sanctuary for the Night Mother. Our Unholy Matron.” He giggled, snapping the reins.

“Can I join you?”

“Of course, of course!”

-

The two of you had been on the road for two weeks now. Stopping here and then for provisions, but Cicero never gave you an exact location of where you were headed.

Just when Falkreath was in view, Cicero pulled the wagon to a stop.

“Why are we stopping?” You asked. Cicero jumped into the back of the wagon and began to pull the large box down.

“The Dark Brotherhood Sanctuary of Falkreath is just down there. Would bunny go knock on the door? The pass code is ‘Silence, brother'. Simple, no? Cicero will need much help with our Unholy Matron.” Cicero giggled, still fooling with the box.

You nodded as you passed him. “Yeah, okay. Dark Brotherhood.”

Nervously, you followed Cicero's instructions. Minding the fallen trees. You turned a corner to find a door with a skull painted with a red handprint. A signature sign of the Dark Brotherhood.

As you approached the door, a new voice spoke. It nearly sounded like a snake.

“What is the music of life?” The door asked.

“Silence, Brother.”

The door creaked open and you walked in. It shut behind you.

“Ah, back again already? I figured the contracts from Nazir would keep you… busy.” A woman said. You waved a nimble hello.

“I’m probably not who you were looking for… but I’m here with Cicero and the Night Mother. He has requested help.” You informed, biting on your lower lip. This whole situation made you nervous. You could see the rest of the faction members staring at you, oddly.

“You heard them! Go help.” The woman ordered. You smiled in thanks and turned to scurry away, back to Cicero where you didn’t feel like everyone wanted to slit your throat.

“Bunny! Did you get in?” Cicero questioned.

With a nod you said, “Yes, but I don’t they were too happy with me.”

“It matters not, little bunny. For in time, they will become accustomed to you.” He smiled, madly.

“In time…?”

Cicero could not respond as many of the members had approached the wagon to help.

-

Cicero stood next to the large box, as if defending it. You stayed off to the side, not entirely interested in listening to them bicker. The woman from before made it clear she was in charge, and although you and Cicero agreed, you deciphered the little grin he sent you as one with malice intent towards the members.

Just then, you noticed a member you had not met yet, enter the room with his head held high. He was an average Nord, with a built stature and two blades at his side.

He approached the woman (who’s name you learned to be Astrid) and began to speak to her.

You caught the words, ‘muttering fool’ and ‘his little helper'. You knew she spoke of you and Cicero, as well as the Night Mother with ill will. Despite her giving you the armor they all shared and the free will to take small contracts.

The Nord man approached Cicero and yourself. Cicero was overjoyed, giggling and hopping about.

"Oh! Cicero remebers you!" The jester said, still hopping from foot to foot like a giddy child.

The Nord man smiled, and shrugged, not saying anything. Cicero seemed to understand and offered to chat for a bit longer.

The man said hardly anything, a few questions here and there. You didn't know quite what to make of him.

Was he a threat?

-

might finish later, tbh

-ghost ♡