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*Recently tweeked this and added a signature.

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It was more than him undressing that caused her to gasp or the fact that he was actually going to wear something else besides his Jester's uniform. It was the scars. Hundreds perhaps thousands of cutting and crisscrossing scars were upon his back, chest and palms. He sobered, turning quickly to face her as if wanting to spare her from seeing the worst of it. He worked quickly to put on what she made him. He saw her eyes watering before she looked away and to help defuse the tension he offered her back her earlier joke.

"Now-now Beth. Given what we were doing earlier... I think you have more than a right to look."

She studied the ones on his chest and found the word fool carved among them. But at least there were not nearly as many as there were upon his back. There it was more scar tissue than normal skin. And all of this time she was so worried about all of hers. A part of her wanted to ask about his.

Did they happen over time? Who or whom did this to him? And did they pay for it? Gods no wonder he was so concerned about the torture chamber being restored!

She trembled at the thought of helping him find that person or persons. Helping send them to the Void, very slowly and painfully for what they did to him. But for now she held back her questions and put on a strained smile instead.

Dressed he grinned at her with a sly fiery twinkle in his darkest amber eyes. Then calmly he hinted to their cause, "The Jester and the Dark brotherhood assassin... quite the contract to remember. My last before Cicero became the Keeper."

She felt an odd chill run through her as he started to hum and fuss over adjusting and tying up his belt. And then what he wrote in one of his journals hit her and took on an even greater meaning.

So long since I worked my blade. So long since I saved a soul. But I am now Keeper. No longer a taker. I think back fondly on my hours with the jester. His laughter, his screams, his pitiful cries. And then, as the end drew near, his laughter once more. Merry in death as well as life. I was honored to know him.

(A peek from Death and Madness)

Image Reference: 24.media.tumblr.com/6a7da457c2…

Description

Please read my Terms of Use before using: csphire.deviantart.com/journal…

*Recently tweeked this and added a signature.

This image is authorized for personal use. You may post elsewhere so long as reference to this location is given. You may NOT use my art in any way shape or form for profit.

It was more than him undressing that caused her to gasp or the fact that he was actually going to wear something else besides his Jester's uniform. It was the scars. Hundreds perhaps thousands of cutting and crisscrossing scars were upon his back, chest and palms. He sobered, turning quickly to face her as if wanting to spare her from seeing the worst of it. He worked quickly to put on what she made him. He saw her eyes watering before she looked away and to help defuse the tension he offered her back her earlier joke.

"Now-now Beth. Given what we were doing earlier... I think you have more than a right to look."

She studied the ones on his chest and found the word fool carved among them. But at least there were not nearly as many as there were upon his back. There it was more scar tissue than normal skin. And all of this time she was so worried about all of hers. A part of her wanted to ask about his.

Did they happen over time? Who or whom did this to him? And did they pay for it? Gods no wonder he was so concerned about the torture chamber being restored!

She trembled at the thought of helping him find that person or persons. Helping send them to the Void, very slowly and painfully for what they did to him. But for now she held back her questions and put on a strained smile instead.

Dressed he grinned at her with a sly fiery twinkle in his darkest amber eyes. Then calmly he hinted to their cause, "The Jester and the Dark brotherhood assassin... quite the contract to remember. My last before Cicero became the Keeper."

She felt an odd chill run through her as he started to hum and fuss over adjusting and tying up his belt. And then what he wrote in one of his journals hit her and took on an even greater meaning.

So long since I worked my blade. So long since I saved a soul. But I am now Keeper. No longer a taker. I think back fondly on my hours with the jester. His laughter, his screams, his pitiful cries. And then, as the end drew near, his laughter once more. Merry in death as well as life. I was honored to know him.

(A peek from Death and Madness)

Image Reference: 24.media.tumblr.com/6a7da457c2…