A Dragonborn by any other name

The last ones left

Lucia's story was told over the course of days. It was not a pretty story, not healthy for children at all, but then, what would you expect of an assassin. Some things were left out, such as her exact parentage, but the fall of the sanctuary, and subsequent days were told in horrific detail. She spoke of the silence of the Night Mother, which had the others nodding, and how everything fell apart. It would have taken less time, but Babette insisted that everyone be around to hear the story, that she would not have to tell it multiple times. Astrid was cold, unyielding, though seemed to warm up to her a little as time went by. Arnbjorn, her partner and husband, was gleeful when Lucia told of the attack of the were-bears when visiting her sister on Solstheim. Festus was older and grouchier than she remembered, but they still held their delightful conversations about magic, though he finally held a more mature viewpoint. A few compliments on his cooking seemed to get the Redguard, Nazir, to open up a little, and a pouch of spice all the way from Corinthe definitely got her on his good side. She had managed to steal a few of her possessions back, and was glad she had thought to pick up the aromatic packet. Veezara was easy to get along with, as her time in Elseweyr gave her a healthy respect for the so-called 'beast people.' Gabrielle was delightful, with 'Let's talk about the worst tasting potions we have ever had' yielding many unique recipes and mixtures Lucia had never thought of. Babette kept her company when she couldn't sleep, which was often, and when she finally finished her story, she was treated with respect, if only because she had a long life behind her, most of it in service to the Brotherhood.

The morning after she finally finished, Lucia found herself sitting in the shadow of the scratched wall in the main room of the Sanctuary. She remembered, from when she was younger, much younger, sitting with Gwen as they held discussion about anything and everything. At the time, her sister's words had meant the world to her, and anything she said must be true. She closed her chocolate eyes, remembering fondly the words of power, of chanting, knowing her family was irrevocably connected to this place, when she was interrupted by the scrape of the entrance door. The only ones out of the sanctuary at the moment were Gabrielle and Arnbjorn. Neither were due back for a day at least, so either something had gone wrong, or the sanctuary had it's second uninvited visitor within a week. There was no question that it was someone going outside, the door opened outwards silently, and so Lucia was up, bow at the ready with an arrow nocked. The cackle that drifted down the hall instantly brought her mother to mind, but she dismissed it. The sound was far too masculine. Babette was beside her even faster than she had drawn her bow, gesturing for her to put it down. Astrid's voice greeted the visitor, false delight cloaking it. "Keeper. What a… lovely surprise. We have been expecting you for some time." Keeper. Lucia's mind was racing. The Keeper kept the Night Mother, when the Night Mother had no Listener. There had been no Listener in years, it was why the Brotherhood had fallen apart. If the Keeper was in Skyrim, the Night Mother must be too. It was obvious, in hindsight, that She would be brought to the last remaining Sanctuary, but it didn't make her feel any better. The words exchanged gave her a definite sense of her mother, and a glimpse of the jester's motley as he came into the main room told her all she needed to know. Her mother had touched this little imperial, for reasons known only to herself. It was probably for the best, anyway, as he would have been alone for so long. It took a moment for her to look past the motley, to see the man underneath.

"Cicero must be seeing things, poor sweet Cicero thought he saw his sweet sister!" She beamed, and actual, true, smile, and set her bow down, crossing the room. She hugged him, though her eyes spoke to Astrid over his head, of her shock, her worry. Lucia vowed to herself that she would convince her mother to give Cicero up, knowing that he wouldn't be accepted until that happened.

"Cicero, you haven't seen a ghost. It's really me." Shock greeted the pair's exchange, though Babette put it together first, and it was almost as if a torch had gone on in her head.

"You were in Cheyindal weren't you Lucia. For many years." A simply nod greeted her, as she stroked Cicero's hair. He had burst into tears at seeing a familiar face for the first time in decades, and she silently wondered just how bad it must have been for him.

"Shh… shh… Cicero… it's alright… you're here now… among your sisters and brothers… you're safe…" She was trying to get him to calm down, and she looked to Astrid again, eyes pleading. The woman softened slightly, seeing the bond between the pair. They were directed to a room, and finally, she was able to get him to calm down. They spoke for a few minutes, before the little man fell asleep. Sighing, she returned to the main room, to be bombarded with questions. Holding up her hands, to stop them, she took a breath. "I was attached to Cheyindal for many years. I was Cicero's mentor when he joined the Brotherhood, and I was the last to be reassigned before it fell. I had duties at the time, so couldn't go back to check on him. Now, I wish I had. Sheogorath has touched him, whether to his benefit or disadvantage I don't know. I will try to convince her to release him at least a little when I can, but for now can people please go easy on him. From what I can gather he was alone with nothing but the silent Night Mother for decades." Without waiting for a reply, she went to bed, knowing she wouldn't get any rest once that sunk in, and needing to sleep for a little while at least.