Flesh Between Tainted Teeth

The Voice That Guides

The sun, bright and resting above the horizon made my skin prickle with uneasiness. It blinded me, made pale skin itch and crawl with disgust. I shook the confusion off my mind as I rushed towards the voice as it mumbled. I never been so happy to see the green foliage as I limped outside careful to not trip. Down a trail and twisting around a turn was a carriage. A coffin laying upright on the ground as if it had fallen during a bumpy ride. "H-HELP!" I did not care if my unmentionables hang out in the open for any peering eye as I ran with determination towards the oddly dressed individual. His red and black jester garb threw me off as I limped just slightly slower. "Huh? Cicero found a-" his mouth hang open as his amber eyes took in the blood that drenched me from head to toe. He rushed over his red hair hanging in my face as I collapsed to the dirt road. "Help, t-they were going to sacrifice me!" I wept uncontrollably clenching my abdomen tightly. "Cicero will fix you up, Cicero loves fixing up pretty elves" his voice rose excitedly as he reached under my legs with one hand and the other under my arm pit. "Oooh, this one is heavy. Nothing Cicero can't handle" he ended with soft giggle as he placed me on a roll of cloth on the back of the wagon. Then it set in, dizziness, thirst. I raised my head eyeing the mad jester as he hummed a lullaby with a needle in his hand. "Now Cicero must stitch that wound or poor little dove will bleed to death~" he spoke in a sing song voice.
The world was spinning, twirling around in a wicked dance of death. I could only call out into the void "h-help, it hurts, burns" I clawed deep into my throat hoping the scarlet blood that coated my finger tips sated my ungodly thirst. "Shh! Pretty elf, Cicero will take care of you just fine!" He proclaimed but didn't move, not one inch. I blinked my eyes grimly as I let my orbs focus onto his blurry face "b-but your not stitching it, I'm going to BLEED to death!" His eyes flicked back to mine as they shook in terror. A small smile spread across his thin lips "Cicero now understands, I don't have to stitch the pretty elf" he began plucking off his elegantly decorated glove finger by finger with his white teeth. "What do you mean?! I need stitches!" I sat on my elbows leaning forward to yell at the man the crackling growl sounding scratchy. "Is pretty elf that daft?" Cicero giggled as his bare wrist was shown to me. My uncertain orbs slitted in confusion as I glanced to his amber eyes and to his pale wrist. "Are you jesting Cicero? Cicero knows the pretty elf is a blood sucker" a insane laugh produced from his throat. I froze, eyes harden and cold. The sacrifice, wasn't just a sacrifice. My life was to be stripped away, thrown into the void only to have it replaced with a haunting immortality. "But it was just-" I whispered staring at his wrist with rage, disbelief, loathing. Cicero pressed his cold wrist to my lips in a attempt to shut me up. I wouldn't accept it, I couldn't. Tears begun welling up making Cicero's face twist into a frown "Cicero's poor elf is sad, Cicero understands he does but you must if you want the wound to heal" for once his voice was laced with concern as he stared on with sadness. Child, do as he tells. He's only trying to help, you can't take back your old life. I clenched my eyes tight, screwed together as my parched lips opened with a silent pop. "Cicero promises the poor elf, she will be just fine" it was sweet, honey filled words that made me clench down. Piercing the white flesh, hearing the crunch of collapsing veins and tendons. "Ow! This pretty elf has sharp fangs. Hurts Cicero, but he can handle it" he mumbled to himself with a slight whimper as the warm liquid drained down my throat, coating it with life. Hot fluid rushed down sunken cheeks as the feeling of disgust crept its way into my bones. "Is pretty elf almost done? Cicero feels woozy" his voice was dazed and weak. My pupils shrank, I unlatched my mouth from his wrist as I gazed worriedly at him. The tone, the frail voice much like my own tore the want of life in the form of blood. "Are you okay?" Undoubtedly quivering, thin hands reached out to grip Cicero's shoulder. "Oh, Cicero had been stabbed, sliced and diced" he giggled at his small joke before he continued "Cicero will be just fine pretty elf" like a crackling fire, warmth crept into my unbeating heart. "Look, the elf is already better" Cicero excitedly exclaimed motioning towards my abdomen. Indeed, the wound was closed only leaving clots of blood on the surface. "Thank you, Cicero" a soft pull of my lips sent a shy smile across my features.

"If Cicero remembers correctly, this beautiful elf didn't say her name" he twisted around to pull a woman's dress from a pack. With eyebrows pulled together I spoke "Gwyneth Sin" it had been so long since I spoke those words, too long since I heard those syllables. "A pretty name for a pretty elf" Cicero turned towards me with a dark gown, torn in spots but otherwise would work. I took the black dress into my delicate fingers gripping the silken fabric "how did you come by this Cicero?" I fondled the dress as I carefully brought it over my body. "Well, Cicero may or may not have killed a Widow" his voice cracked as he tried to contain his excitement. With the wringing of his hands he pulled his eyes away from my half dressed form. "Thank you, Cicero. You've done so much for me in so little time, sweet Jester" I pinched his ever growing bright red cheeks in amusement.

~A Imperial mad man and the immortal female Altmer. The oddest pair but the best of friends~