The Dragonborn's Apprentice

Komeyt Oblaan

The next few days were spent in the Dawnstar Sanctuary, never straying far from Cicero's side. I didn't care what the Brotherhood thought, I needed to make sure that he was alright. The gash in his side was much deeper than anything he had done to the other guild members. While both Arnbjorn and Veezara were able to walk mere minutes after their attacks, Cicero was unable to stand properly for a full two days. I had very little training in healing spells, although Sanguine was well versed in them. A few times I had gone out to retrieve medicine from the city but had come back to Cicero trying to claw his way to the Night Mother. Even the spirits, who had quickly gotten used to my presence there, as they had with Cicero, seemed to understand his urgency, disapparating into the stony floors whenever he approached.

"You can't go back there, Cicero," I spoke softly, as to not agitate his emotions further. He hadn't seen her in almost a week and it was driving him mad. Madder, I should say. "They will kill you. They already think you're dead." I had sent Shadowmere, who had arrived back in Dawnstar since returning Arnbjorn, back to the sanctuary with a letter of what had happened. Well, almost. I had detailed my trip to the Dawnstar sanctuaryand how the inside was no larger than a stable. The last thing we needed was for them to come and investigate the property. Cicero had been inside and put up quite a fight, but ultimately fell to my blade. I wrote that I was fine, but I needed to stay in the city and rest, replenishing my strength for the next part of our plan to assassinate the Emperor. Shadowmere had returned after only one night, causing me to wonder once more what realm of existence he came from to have speed and strength such as that. The reply simply read 'See you soon, Sister' in Astrid's neat, cursive hand writing.

"Cicero needs to see her," he gasped, the pain from his side causing him to stop for breath every few words. "Innocence doesn't know what they'll do to her. Astrid's a traitor!" When he spoke of the Night Mother, he fell back into third-person. I was sometimes able to calm him down. Other times, not.

Cicero told me how the entire situation had started.

...

"Is Veezara distracting the two of them?" Astrid asked her husband with hushed voices in the Dark Brotherhood's common area. Cicero had stopped on the stairs where he could listen both to the argonian, who was in no doubt about to try to court his Listener, and to Astrid and Arnjborn's mysterious whispers. With how open Astrid had been about her distaste of the Night Mother's customs, Cicero decided that he should turn his attention to the married couple. The lizard would have to wait.

"Yes, I sent him as soon as I heard the door. Poor Veezara. He isn't going to know what to do with himself once Innocence is out of the picture," the werewolf said. Cicero's ears perked at the sound of my name.

"He'll be fine. Keeping power properly distributed is what matters most right now. Even if she was able to land us the largest contract we've ever seen, we cannot let this go on. This sanctuary has stood for many years under my rule, not the Night Mothers. Several sanctuaries have fallen even with her rotting corpse, but ours will not be one of them. Once we kill the emperor, we will have no need for her." Her voice smiled sinfully. "If we're lucky, we will knock Cicero out of the picture as well." Cicero held his tongue to keep from shouting. His fingers curled and uncurled around the handles of his dangers with anxiety and anger.

"So, did you do it," Arnjborn asked, voice low, but not low enough. "Did you speak with Commander Maro?"

"Better," she paused, as if to emphasize her news. "I spoke with the Dragonborn." Cicero's breathe hitched in his throat. Sanguine. "He was simply elated to hear from us. Said he would do anything to have her back. With his status, he was able to promise us full safety of our organization in return for her." That was enough for Cicero. He charged and aimed for the throat.

...

"You know the rest," he spoke softly, obvious guilt in his voice. "My goal was never to kill any of them, you know that, or else Sanguine would be dead by now."

Sanguine. My brother. My brother. Cicero and I had finally talked about what had been plaguing me most. My past. He told me that I was born into the Dark Brotherhood, as had Sanguine. Our parents' names were Nibenay, who was an Imperial, and Yorgrim, a Nord who had travelled to the Cheydinhal sanctuary to be with my mother after his home, the Dawnstar Sanctuary, fell. Cicero would watch over me when I was a toddler.

"That's how I knew you'd be so good with the dagger," he giggled, thinking back on fond memories. "You used to sleep with one in your crib!"

Cicero told me all about the Cheydinhal Sanctuary, my parents, and Sanguine. He said that my piercing blue eyes came from my father. Every feature of mine I could never identify the origin of belonged to one of my parents. The thought was almost comforting. Most all those features were shared with my brother. Blue eyes, tan skin, wide hips and strong calves. I don't know how I had never noticed the similarities before.

"Just about the only difference between you and him is your hair," he said, twisting mine between his fingers. "You have your mothers' hair." His face twisted once we were back on the topic of Sanguine. "He always hated the Dark Brotherhood," he said with a sneer. "ever since he was small. But I didn't think he hated us enough to try and frame me for your parents' murders. He talked about how evil we all were and how killing innocence people for coin was wrong. I always just assumed it was because he was so bad at sneaking," Cicero giggled. "We used to play hide and seek in the Sanctuary, he was never very good at it. But you were! Even as a babe, you were quite as the night. You were a born assassin!" Cicero told me of a contract that the two of us had gone on together, posing as lost children. "It was rather successful," Cicero said with a smile. I finally understood why this had felt so easy. Why I was drawn to the dagger, why I could sneak with ease, and why my blade found itself in the stomachs of contracts so easily. This was my life blood and I was proud of it.

"I'm so sorry that I didn't tell you sooner. When I saw you two out on the road in that Imperial armor, I didn't know if you'd want your dark past plaguing your new life. I should have known better. But I'm happy you know now," Cicero said against my lips. I stayed, feeling content in his embrace.