His White-Gold Tower

We know the story: Cicero’s last job was to assassinate a flamboyant jester, who laughed until the moment he died; this obviously had a lasting psychological impact on dear sweet Cicero… but it’s never fully delved into what sort of impact this had and why it was so poignant, nor why Cicero chose to take on the role as a Jester, himself, other than mentioning that he did so to cope with the silence and isolation within the dark brotherhood.

It’s important to note that Cicero is very much a rebellious figure, and he pokes fun at Astrid’s Dark Brotherhood chapter because of the way it deviates from the original, and this is where the character of the Jester becomes not just fun, but deeply political.

Historically, let’s break down the elements of a court jester’s outfit, because it’s deeper than you think.

Poulaines and Pointy Caps

Let’s start with his poulaines - pointy boots. The typical court jester would wear long and exaggerated pointy shoes because pointed shoes were a symbol of wealth among elites: this was to mock the impractical nature of upper class fashion - he could be foreshadowing Astrid’s betrayal of the Listener and faux assassination plot of the Emperor by wearing what appears to be a combination of exaggerated rich fashion and the dark brotherhood colours, painting a portrait of the Dark Brotherhood ‘sucking up’ to the Emperor and Solitude Guards (since they also share the same colour scheme).

The double points on his jester’s cap are made to mimic an ‘ass’ or a hare, and this is because donkeys were symbolic of stupidity and stubbornness, and rabbits, cowardice.

Bells and Ruffs

The star ruff mimics real ruffs worn by the upper classes, again mocking rich fashion, but the bells on the end of each point held a different and more blasphemous connotation: the bells were something historically associated with priests. This is openly mocking the church; in Cicero’s case, he is mocking what he thinks is a bastardisation of the faith and tenets of the dark brotherhood.

The bells also symbolise ‘foolish chatter’ and meaningless noise - perhaps his dancing and loud manner of speaking was to cope with isolation to begin with, but the second he steps into the Falkreath Sanctuary, it becomes a mockery of the treasonous plots that are about to ensue and Astrid’s ridiculous arguments over (and obsession with) leadership whilst the Night Mother is right there.

(But this is in fanart depictions of him where he has bells; he doesn’t typically wear them in the game because he does still need to sneak around. Still. I love the bells when they’re added.)

Dual Tones and Chaotic Patchwork

The chaotic patchwork in a typical jester’s outfit often symbolised being ‘outcast’ in society and mental fragmentation, and bi-coloured clothing was typically legally reserved for criminals or mentally ill individuals; Cicero gets away with wearing bi-coloured clothing because he is mentally ill, but to then wear a two-toned jester’s outfit in the colours of the Dark Brotherhood pokes fun at the fact that they’re all criminals.

Jester Status and Artificial Fools

‘Jester Status’ allows Cicero to get away with mockery because Jesters were not seen as people; they were seen as property - in this case, property of Astrid, and property of the Emperor. Kings rarely executed their jesters because they would be seen as stupid if they were offended by a ‘thing’; this is why Astrid falls into idiot territory the second she begins her shenanigans with Cicero. Because she is offended by him. She does react in a disproportionate way when her authority is questioned, even playfully.

‘Natural Fools’ were usually people with facial deformities or learning disabilities; since it is clear that Cicero has neither, that puts him into the category of ‘Artificial Fool’… and artificial fools were usually highly skilled performers; hence why you should never underestimate Cicero as a character and why he’s one of the best - if not the best - companion to bring along with you.

To Conclude

Cicero is making some very bold statements with his choice of attire and persona; not only does it bring him comfort, and not only does his ‘Jester’ status allow him to mock Astrid and the Emperor… he can do it whilst wearing their fucking clothes.

🗡️

So here’s my little introduction (without any tragic backstories, because I don’t want to carry that with me when I’m using Skyrim as escapism):

I’m Taliesin (yes, that’s my real name. Yes, I’m aware that there is a follower with the same name, and I adore him). I’m a Reachman (I’m Welsh), and my playthrough consists of foraging and brewing potions (irl, I’m a Herbalist), reading, collecting and writing books (I’m also an author irl), playing instruments at the inns (that too), and looking after my two cats put upon me through Skyrim’s cat distribution system. I spend a lot of my time at the College of Winterhold, roaming around the wilderness and swimming. I’m researching the falmer and the daedra as particular points of interest and I’m certain I’ve figured out what the Eye of Magnus actually is.

In this playthrough, as myself, I’m a follower of Xarxes and really taking the time to read all of the books that I find.

I wanted the romance to go in an organic way (instead of my usual making a beeline for Ancano/Vingalmo), and in-game me fell for Nelacar (alas, those damn altmer still have me in a chokehold). I also brought Erandur home to live with me, and turned the cosy room with the fireplace and shrine of Mara in it into a bedroom. (I live in Mirele Bismath)

Erandur also has the cats in with him, as well as the zaza plants. He’s been through a lot, so I figured he should spend some time getting zooted and playing with the cats.

🌼 He’s 6’6”. Cicero’s 5’4”.

🌼 Despite Cicero being wild, fun and unhinged around Sheherazeth, Cicero is actually by far the more serious of the two when they’re out on a job. Cicero will crack jokes and be lighthearted, but likes things done a certain way and can be very anal (hurhur) about sleeping in public places.

🌼 Cicero is paranoid as fuck in public and will fully walk away from Sheherazeth if the dunmer causes any sort of scene. Sheherazeth finds it funny but it lowkey ragebaits Cicero.

🌼 The Yellow Mountain Flower lore also took a while for Cicero to adjust to, and he still gets jittery when people approach Shere. He remembers, though, how he approached Shere for help outside the Loreius Farm, and checks himself.

🌼 Cicero is also paranoid about sleeping at the inns. He will insist on having the same bed as Sheherazeth and will further insist on being wedged up against the wall. The entire night, Cicero does not break bodily contact with Sheherazeth, whether they’re sleeping stomach to stomach, back to back, locked ankles or ass to ass.

🌼 One thing Sheherazeth doesn’t tolerate, though, is Cicero’s very dangerous habit of taking knives to bed, putting them under pillows, in mattresses, etc. The Jester *has* injured himself before and *has* injured him before. As such, he holds out his hand and counts the daggers Cicero hands him, permitting only one to be kept close by, provided it is on the floor under the bed.

🌼 Cicero is one of the only people outside of Windhelm who has seen Sheherazeth without the morag tong mask on.

🌼 Cicero is a mixed bag with affection: sometimes, he wants to be as close as physically possible and other times it’s a ‘don’t fucking touch me’ sitch. Shere is generally an extremely patient and placid guy, so he just lets Cicero initiate on his own terms.

🌼 In the comfort of the sanctuary, Cicero sleeps sprawled out on top of Shere. In the discomfort of an inn, if it’s a particularly bad night, he will request that Shere sleeps more or less on top of him. Shere understands that he’s a shield and doesn’t care.

Background:

Born to a Dunmer and a Redguard in Windhelm’s Grey Quarter, Sheherazeth was exposed to racism at a young age, and quickly became very anti-authority.

As a child, his mother - a redguard - was murdered and the man who did it dressed the scene up to look like she was a skooma addict who had OD’d. Instead of investigating the murder properly, the guards just saw the skooma bottles and turned the other cheek, prompting Sheherazeth to contact the Dark Brotherhood. Without a name for the murderer however, the contract could not be fulfilled. His father - a dunmer - decided to try to investigate what had happened so that Sheherazeth would have a name to give the Dark Brotherhood, but he was attacked and beaten in the street by Rolff Stone-Fist, leaving him with injuries that disabled him. Sheherazeth cared for his father instead of pursuing his education as a mage until his father eventually died. Once more, the guards turned a blind eye when he demanded that Rolff Stone-Fist be held accountable, and did not even bother sending him to an orphanage because he was ‘too old’ to be adopted.

Furious, Sheherazeth began teaching himself the art of destruction magic and the way of the spellsword, and began making himself known as a troublemaker in Windhelm for arson attacks on guard barracks and getting into fistfights. He was arrested at least seven times before he reached adulthood.

When he did mature, he once again took matters into his own hands and beat the shit out of Rolff Stone-Fist when the Nord was drunk and walking through the Grey Quarter late at night, later following him home, robbing him and then setting fire to his house, earning him yet another lengthy jail sentence. He spent most of his young adult life protecting other dunmer, the argonians in the docks, and the Khajiit outside the city, as well as the working class and beggars.

He was still dead set on finding his mother’s killer, so when he got out of jail, as the murders in Windhelm began happening to Nord women - causing the guards to actually take notice - he stepped in. When he found the killer, it wasn’t pretty: Sheherazeth tied Calixto down to his own bed and repeatedly force fed him almost lethal doses of skooma for days until the man pleaded for death, at which point, Sheherazeth slit his throat and once more set fire to the house.

This time, when he was jailed, he escaped and left Windhelm altogether, but not before agreeing to ‘clean up the filth’ for Aventus Aretino, who reminded him of himself as a child, promising him that he would find and kill Grelod the Kind.

Main Story:

After seeing tavern wenches being kidnapped and mistreated by vampires on the road, Sheherazeth devoted himself to Meridia, and began killing the undead.

When he was turned into a vampire by one of them, his soul was split in two - the Wrath and the Dawn; Molag Bal and Meridia - causing Meridia to punish him violently. This was the reward for his loyalty. This sparked an intense and seething hatred for the daedra, and he began hatching a plan to weaken and commit treason against all of them; no gods, no masters.

He began seeking each of the daedra out, becoming champion to all of them, splitting his soul in order to cause them to fight each other over who should claim him. He’s weakening them all by depriving them of any new champions, taking their artefacts for himself, and decreasing their thrall over their followers by drawing attention to himself.

He turns the other Daedra against Meridia. Then starts turning them on each other. Eventually, he brings the priestess of Azura to Boethiah’s shrine and slaughters her there.

Boethiah, however, cannot punish Sheherazeth for what he has done, even though he has turned Azura against them and killed their own priest for Molag Bal, because treachery is their domain, and the treason he has committed is on a deific scale; the highest level of treason possible.

Boethiah has the greatest stake on Sheherazeth’s soul, and claims it quietly, so as to prolong the fighting amongst their fellow Daedra. They know it is a game with immensely high stakes, but there is something just too delicious about having a champion that despises you so viciously that they embody your entire aspect. To Boethiah, Sheherazeth is their very own viper; fun to observe, but best kept at arm’s length or behind glass. He is the ultimate traitor.

So it is then, when he begins targeting authority figures through the Dark Brotherhood, who pick him up after he fulfils his promise to Aventus, and Astrid betrays him… he goes absolutely nuclear and kills her brutally.

As a vampire, he only feeds on the corrupt and the powerful, and the one thing he takes from also being the champion of Namira? Eat the Rich.

Personality:

First and foremost, Sheherazeth is a protector. He protects women, children, beggars, the working class, the marginalised and the abused. He does not tolerate rapists, racists, sexists, abusers, corruption, authority or the needlessly wealthy. He will find them and he will kill them.

He’s charitable in nature, and anything he loots or has of significant monetary value he gives to those who need it. He donates whatever gold he has to beggars and orphans, clothes them, feeds them, and makes sure they have a place to at least rest their heads at night. He chaperones travelling wenches and makes sure that sex workers are treated fairly and have access to relevant potions.

He makes sure that temples to the Aedra are accessible and free of indoctrination and that no faith is being forced upon others (bye, Heimskr).

Aaaand though he’s friends with Delvin Mallory and thinks that thieving from the wealthy is good, Maven Blackbriar’s got a huge target over her head when it comes to him.

He and Nazir had a rather explosive argument about the contract on Narfi in Ivarstead after Sheherazeth weeded out whoever had put the contract out and murked them instead. It’s also the only time he and Cicero have quarrelled - Cicero is his partner (in more than just crime).

Behind the Name:

I took heavy inspiration from the 1001 Nights and the story of Scheherazade; a woman who married a sultan and told 1001 tales to prevent her execution and the executions of any more women.

Sheherazeth mirrors parts of this story, where he ‘marries’ the daedra and spins a thousand betrayals in order to deprive them of power.

His surname, ‘Drul’ is the Tibetan word for ‘Snake’ or ‘Viper’; I wanted him to have a distinctive South/Central Asian vibe.

In his features and appearance, I’m specifically taking inspiration from Tibet, Nepal and India. He’s a handsome dude. Rather tall, too.

HC Notes:

🌼 He wears a yellow mountain flower very clearly in the front of his armour to communicate to people that they can approach him if they feel unsafe or need help.

Kicking it off with two new OCs, who I shall be introducing imminently:

🌿 Gwyddach Wledig: a stupidly clever alteration and illusion mage, proud Reachman, and vampiric vampire hunter; a follower of Hircine who figures out the Eye of Magnus and has a goal to become the strongest of all hunters.

🐍 Sheherazeth Drul: a working class Dunmer born in Windhelm’s grey quarter, daedra hunter and vampiric vampire hunter. Assassin who targets authority figures and eats the rich.

I just woke up from a dream after meditating and falling asleep during it—

In this dream I was a dark fae type creature in this luscious but dark, colourful, hazy and luminescent environment, gripping onto these rings like the olympic style ones in some sort of arena and demanding a champion. I hear the approach of my champion in all of its musical glory, getting closer and closer as I grip and swing at these rings, practically foaming at the mouth for a battle.

Sounds like the basis of a poetic and fantastical boss fight right?

Right?

Wrong.

It’s David Tennant, in a metallic leotard, and this is suddenly an episode of fucking Gladiators.

The best bit? Apparently this dream was my brain going “time to address a homoerotic sitch, you big ol’ fairy! You don’t know whether you want to be or fuck David Tennant, so here he is! Hash it out!”

And I woke up like

Student: i’m really worried about my final exams, I don’t think I’ll even pass this year!

Ancano: why don’t you have a nice hot bath.

Student: we don’t have baths in the college, just basins

Elenwen: Her head jerks to the side as the slap lands on her cheek. There is a moment of complete silence as she sniffs. You see her jaw clench, and she reaches up to tuck her hair behind her ears again, straightening herself out with dignity and grace… and then she takes her earrings out, calmly setting them down before reeling around at you and you know you’re fucked.

Ancano: audibly gasps, but recovers quickly. Takes his gloves off. Rolls up his sleeves. Pushes back his hair and starts to go visibly red in the face. “You absolute FUCKING heinous BITCH” - the RP english accent drops into the most council estate Essex/London mum voice you’ve ever been witness to and you realise that Ancano isn’t from the ‘nice’ area of Alinor. And he’s not as ‘proper’ as he puts across. And you might have fucked up here. You’re about to star in your own Skyrim-Edition episode of Eastenders versus Altmer Kat Slater.

Ondolemar: He knows how to take a hit, so much so that he barely moves, and just stares at you. It’s such a horrid look that if you don’t back down immediately you’re either nuts or incredibly brave. And if you don’t back down, he gets up, and stands toe to toe with you. “Do you want to try that again?”

1. Susan Boyle

2. A Stagecoach Bus

3. The Cost of a National Trust Membership

4. Icecubes in wine

(Thighs can now press just over 90kg, biceps 55kg, chest/shoulders 70kg and triceps 60kg).

If any terf calls me a lost lesbian sister ever again and weighs under or equal to 90kg/198lbs please know that I could easily put my foot through your ribcage with a force equal to your bodyweight ☺️☺️☺️ I could also smash your skull between my thighs like a watermelon.