Skyrim One-Shots

Cicero x Reader(Female) ~Cold Travels~

Cicero glanced to the woman in his arms, completely passed out with scrapes, blood, and wounds littered all over her.

He didn't know how exactly to respond to the situation.

Should he leave her to the bears? Surely Cicero could never do such a thing!

So he decided to take her back to the small clipping of rock he found shelter in, away from the heavy rain. It protected mother, sweet Cicero, and the horses.

Whenever this wretched rain halted, he could go to his new home!

However, she was an unplanned hiccup. After he'd gotten her to his fire and supplies, he started to peel away her nearly shattered armor, cringing at what lay beneath.

"Cicero does not like glass for a reason," the drenched jester muttered, carefully examining the small shards of glass impaled in your skin from a poorly crafted glass weapon.

No, a dagger, as it seemed from the hilt sticking out of your leg.

Quickly scurrying through his bags of things, he brought out a medical kit he'd never used before, frowning.

"No, no," he huffed, "Cicero must clean the wounds first."

And so, he rushed off to get a clean rag and got it wet with the water he had in his current waterskin, approaching the woman once more with a hesitant face.

Cicero did not want to hurt to poor doe, no! 

With quick, concentrated actions, the assassin began to clean her wounds, plucking out as much glass and dirt and grime as he was able to.

The hilt in your leg revealed that it was merely that- a hilt. It came off easily and didn't require the intense care he believed it would.

After that, you only needed a few easy sewing jobs. He couldn't do much about the broken wrist you had, or the twisted ankle, but he hoped there would be a mage at the new sanctuary.

Feeling pleased with himself at his care for the female stranger, he fell into a slight slumber for a few hours. It was quiet and peaceful- just the thing he needed.

Even so, when his eyes flickered open and his senses came to, the harsh cursing of a voice came into sound, making him whip himself awake and come face to face with the person who had spooked him.

Indeed, it was the woman, wide-eyed as she scrambled back, trying to find some sort of weapon to protect herself with. Cicero calmed himself- mother was safe, it was only the doe. The scared, fragile little doe with such pretty eyes.

While the man began to study her, a soft smile on his lips as he crouched to her level, her chest heaved with the weight of every breath.

"Isn't the little doe hungry?" his voice was quiet and raspy, going from high to low in odd formats.

It rang off all of her alarms in every single way possible known to man. He was creepy, she didn't have clothing, he had a pet name for her, and he was offering food.

She swallowed, but did not respond either with actions or verbally.

He huffed. "She is scared. And," a strand of red hair fell from his ear, coming to hang above his eye, "she is shivering."

True enough, she did shake with the force of her low body temperature. She had no idea what to do- she was too weak and injured to run or ride the horses nearby, and she could not trust this insane wildling in the woods.

But yet, there wasn't really a choice to be made. She almost had to trust him; who else could have carefully strewn the white cloth bandages around her? Why would he go into that care if he wanted to kill her?

Did he want to keep her as his pet, like some maniac? 

"Eat," the man insisted, scrambling about before extending a hand with a small loaf of bread. "Cicero will not hurt the pretty doe- he swears it!"

He exclaimed this with such vigor it was hard not to trust his childish nature, so she carefully took the bread, starting to eat it with controlled, cautious bites.

The man in that odd attire inched closer and closer until he was able to literally touch her. She'd tried her best to ignore it, but it didn't seem to be going well as arms hugged her waist and a head propped on her shoulder.

"Cicero will keep the doe warm," came the soft murmur.

She tensed but allowed it.

If this wackjob helped her, she supposed she'd let it happen. Anything more, she'd bash him upside the head with a rock and run, but otherwise, she would allow it.

She really didn't fancy having another run-in with the elven folk currently chasing her- at least this Cicero fellow seemed to be nicer than them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I PROCRASTINATED AND THIS IS WHAT I GET I WROTE THIS IN 30 MINUTES OMG I SAID I WOULD GET IT UP TODAY AND IT IS STILL TECHNICALLY TODAY OH GOOD LORD OH GOOD LORD

REQUESTS

DANI OUT

ADIEU!