Meant to be a one-shot, however, it doesn't have to be. ;) *wink wink nudge nudge* I'm kinda thinking about making each chapter a different adventure with Cicero. I am currently working on 'A Fool's Daughter' but I'm having trouble with it and I think doing stuff like this will help me move it along smoothly.

Reviews are always appreciated.

Enjoy!

"Ho ho ho and he he he! Break that lute across my knee! And if the Bard should chose to fight, why then I'll set his clothes alight!"

"Cicero, please, shut up!"

"But Listener, Cicero cannot sleep." Cicero sat next to my bedroll illuminated by the glow of the fire. Knees to his chest, shivering from the cold of the night despite the warmth of the crackling flames.

"Cicero, you're going to get sick. Please get in the bedroll." I tried to persuade him. The Imperial didn't have the natural tolerance of the cold like my Nord blood. He ignored me, watching the steam of his breath rise. I crawled out of my bedroll and hugged my knees beside him as he did. I leaned into him, and as a response I got an arm around my shoulders, holding me tight. Cicero and I, ever since he came to the sanctuary, had been friends. But when he ran away to the Dawnstar sanctuary, and I let him live despite what Astrid had ordered, we had become more than that. That was only a month ago, and I still vividly remembered his cold dying form curled up next to the fire place.

I pushed open the door, and then I saw him. Blood covered and dying. I rushed to his side, any anger I had fading.

"Cicero?"

"Abigail." he said, using my actual name for the first time.

"Does it hurt?"

"I don't feel much, honestly." he said, laughing a little. He didn't refer to himself as Cicero. He blood spilled to the floor. Out of sadness and shock, I attempted to stop it by putting my hand on the wound. Cicero's face twisted in agony, and he moaned in pain. I winced. If he died, I would lose my only friend, my best friend. Lose the one who made me laugh. Lose the one who made me feel. Whether it was anger, sadness, love, or happiness, he made me feel.
Tears clouded my vision as I looked down into his amber eyes. The merriment in them dying away. How I missed seeing those eyes bright with merriment. The tears had built up all they could, and fell.

"Cicero does not want to die seeing his Listener weeping." His Listener. 'Only his.' I vowed to myself.

"But, I need you Cicero." my voice cracked, holding in sobs that threatened to escape me.

"You've shown Cicero great kindness, Listener." I don't believe I had heard Cicero so serious. I had thought that when the time came for him to not laugh at everything, and treat life like a joke, and actually see things my way, I'd be the happiest girl alive. But it was in his dying moments, and I missed the constant laughing and joking. I missed the singing and dancing Cicero. I wanted him back.

At the memory, I snuggled up closer to him. Tears made their way to my eyes, and fell slowly. A gloved hand wiped them from my cheeks.

"Something is bothering you." he said, like he was telling me.

"No, I'm okay." I assured him. He held me tighter. I watched him as his mouth opened and he inhaled and exhaled deeply in a yawn. I smiled.

"Come to bed, you Fool. You can sleep with me in my bedroll. It's cold tonight." His tired eyes looked at me, and the corners of his mouth turned up in a small smile. I took him by the hand, pulling him along with me as I made my way to my bedroll. After we had both settled into the warmth of the furs back to back, I spoke.

"Cicero?"

"Yes?"

"I'm your Listener. Only yours. Always." he didn't say anything back to me. Instead, he turned over, put his arm over me, and drew me against him. I found his hand with my own, and laying it on top of his, I intertwined my fingers with his own.
Soon I felt his breathing become steady and deep. I knew he had fallen asleep. And as I closed my own tired eyes, I smiled.