The Most Precious Listener

    “... Listener... Listener...”

    That voice.

    The owner of the voice bent closer to you, so that his nose was nearly touching your ear... And it spoke in a way that was intended to sound like whispering... But it was not.

    “LISTENER... This is SACRILIGE-”

    “NO!” you finally snapped, sending the keeper to send his head back against the wall. “Cicero...” you said in a huff of long-held breath. “It'd be sacrilege if there was a dead body in here.”

    Currently; the only thing wrong about this situation was that it was you and Cicero were bound and crammed into a small wooden coffin, somewhere, being jostled around by a cart- going only where SITHIS knows where.

    Though, you could be more thankful. There was a board missing from Cicero's side of the coffin, making it both easy to breathe, and giving you a relatively usable source of light

    Isn't it funny how you always wound up doing things in or for coffins?

    “Cicero was just... saying...” chided the Jester as he fiddled with his fingers, which were helplessly tied together up at his chest... “Cicero doesn't think he likes coffins all that much anymore...”

    “I was never too much of a fan of one...” you admitted. “Especially after-”

    “OH YES!” Cicero hummed. “How could Cicero and the Night Mother forget? After you fell backwards out of the Night Mother's casket! When we discovered that the kind _______ was really the kind Listener, __________!”

    You let out a sigh. “Yes, Cicero...”

    “Funny that the listener always winds up in coffins isn't it?”

    The palms of your hands meet your forehead in annoyance.

    “... Or perhaps it's not funny indeed?... Maybe a little morose?...” Cicero added lightly, looking to his hands. “... How are we to get out of this jam?”

    “I have no idea,” you sighed as you too, eyed your bonds. “... Maybe this is the end?... Maybe it's ended already and this is just... Our passage to the void?”

    For a moment, your follower said nothing, which unnerved you a little; you'd later admit... But then your Jester spoke up in a scrutinizing and almost sane way.

    “...That's foolish of you to jest, Listener...” Cicero actually whispered, his tone growing darker and darker with each passing moment. “... Cicero's dear sweet Listener will not go to the void... Not while Cicero has anything to say about it...”

    You gave Cicero a slightly mortified look. “Um... Do you know how to get out of here, then?”

    Cicero's amber eyes flicked up, towards the head of the coffin, his lips in a faint, but venomous frown. When Cicero returned his eyes to you he lowered his hands. “I have a dagger in my tunic... Get it out and hold it, Listener.”

    You raised an eyebrow at your companion but did exactly as he said, eventually pulling out a very... Small knife, no bigger than the palm of your hand... Almost as if you had no control of the situation yourself.

    Cicero immediately began working away at the bonds around his wrist and- for a madman- was incredibly fast. He took the knife from you and pulled his legs up, freeing himself entirely from the binds... Squishing you a bit in the process, but only a little bit.

    “By the nine, Cicer-”

    The Jester's cold stare interrupted you before you could finish, and his finger came up to your lips, and you could honestly say that you were mortified. You were tied up, in a coffin, with Cicero who was wielding a knife, and the single most sane face you had ever seen him with.

    Suddenly the Jester smiled, removed his finger. “Such filth as our captors are not worthy of your worry, Listener! Let Cicero take good care of them!” he hummed, quickly pecking you on the forehead. Cicero rolled over, bringing his boots to the top of the coffin, and he hit the lid, leaving you, alone in less than a minute, with only the sounds of screams and blood-curdling begs for mercy.

    As comforting as this was that the wagon stopped, that was the only comfort that you got. You were alone, tied up still, with boards blocking your only means of exit. You had no idea who was screaming, and you had no idea who was winning...

    You wanted to talk when the noise had died down... But in reality you were too upset to do anything...

    The silence was... Maddening. It tore at your insides like no tomorrow. You wanted so bad to know what happened; if Cicero was safe or not- if you'd be able to return to the Sanctuary again... It scared you.

    It scared you so much in fact, that you didn't realize the coffin was being pryed open again.

    “LISTENER!” Cicero squealed, happy as a clam. “... Is the Listener alright?”

    “Don't EVER. Leave me like that again....”

    “Cicero won't~” he hummed. “Not while he lives!~ The Listener is most precious to Cicero!... And if Listener dies horribly; Cicero will be sure to keep her just like Mother!” Cicero bent down and pulled you to your shaky feet.

    “Only- Cicero doesn't think the Listener should have a coffin... Cicero thinks she should have a tomb! Yes! A whole LOVELY tomb for the Listener!~”