Cicero x GN! Reader (FINISHED)

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A/N:

Background information – the Dragonborn has completed the Dark Brotherhood's main quest line, and decided to let Cicero live. Cicero has been living in the Dawnstar sanctuary for nearly three months now.

Please let me know if there are any spelling errors, it was rather rushed.

:)

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"Well shit." I murmured with a frown. I tugged down the mask of my shrouded cowl, desperately needing some fresh air. I eyed the Night Mother's coffin warily. She had just informed me of a new job. One that dealt with, let's say, an old friend of mine.

It was a young woman named Ysolda, the one I had given an extra hand to upon my first entry to Whiterun. In fact, I had nearly died for her, and all she did was give me a few septims in return. But never-the-less, I had continued on my way up to the Jarl to see if he could send some of his men to Riverwood. Say, that had to have been at least a year ago now.

I supposed that since I was headed to Whiterun, I might as well stop by and see Lydia. Just as I was packing my knapsack, I heard humming behind me.

"When I see the lady named Miss Nelly, I'll stick a knife right in her belly."

By Sithis, it was Cicero. The last person I wanted to see before I left. I pulled my mask back up, sealing off my identity again. Cicero's humming stopped and I turned to face him. He had a large array of bottles in his hands, most likely for the Night Mother.

"Oh, Listener! What a surprise!" He laughed, doing that odd dance. I furrowed my brows.

"Yes, I apologize for cutting you short, but I have work to do." I huffed, slinging my bag over my shoulder. Cicero's smile faded for a brief second before it returned twice as big.

"Might Cicero be able to assist you in some way?" Cicero giggled.

I went to shake my head, but remembered that the new recruits were still settling in with smaller jobs. I couldn't ask them to come with me. Any of my housecarls were immediately out of the picture, considering this part of my life was a secret to all. I never removed the mask unless I was making a kill. I will admit, I like to make myself appear friendly before I stab someone in their sleep.

Cicero hummed, walking up to the Night Mother, touching up her garments, and applying oils to her withering skin.

"Perhaps you could, Cicero." I answered, checking my knife. Cicero jumped up, excited.

"Does the Listener mean it?" He cried, drawing his weapon. "Who does the Listener want to kill?"

He rushed past me in a frenzy, but I grabbed him by the waist before he could get too far. "Slow down, you fool. I have to speak with Ysolda first."

He stopped squirming and I let him go. Sheathing his weapon, he glanced at me. "Does Ysolda not bring good memories to my Listener?"

My eyes widened a bit. "Well, no. Not exactly. But that's not my point."

Cicero shrugged and went to tidy up the bottles from before. He stood up and walked over to me. "When does the Listener plan to leave?"

"Now." I answered, walking towards the door. He ran after me with a grin and I opened the door to Skyrim.

With a few minor re-arrangements, I had managed to get my knapsack onto Shadowmere, before hosting myself up too. I was about to dig my heels into Shadowmere's hips when I looked down at Cicero. His eyebrows were raised, as if curious. I tilted my head back to the sky with a large sigh.

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