I expected this to be easy, but somehow this chapter had turned out to be really tedious to write.

The carriage ride back to Whiterun was, for the most part, staggeringly boring. Lydia spent a great amount of time dozing or, whenever she could talk her escort into letting her take the reins, on the coachman's box. The soldiers accompanying her were all respectful and attentive. Either it was because she was a housecarl and her safe return their responsibility or Wulf had had words with them.

A week into the journey and she missed her Thane. They had grown close atop High Hrothgar, but Lydia had been happy when Wulf had voiced his desire to visit Dawnstar. It would give her some time alone that she very much needed. While it had been nice to have somebody to take care of her, or to just talk to whenever she wanted to, the housecarl needed to rely on herself once more.

She regretted that particular decision soon enough. It had just been impossible to be fret when you had an infuriating Thane cracking obliviously bad jokes. Lydia lay awake at night, worry gnawing at her. About the approaching birth, about her return to Jorrvaskr and confronting Farkas and about the future. She did not want to go down in Whiterun's history as the housecarl with the shortest, least heroic career.

She could not serve her Thane and raise a child and the more she thought about it the less she wanted to leave her son or daughter with a wet nurse. Apart from the fact that a part of the money would have to be provided by Wulf since her job as guard had not paid off much and most of her income she had spent on drink and a proper suit of armour, if she was going to be a mother, she was going to be a good one. But she could not do it on her own.

Wulf though more or less helpful and understanding was neither very patient nor caring and probably the worst person to leave a babe around. He might outright forget it existed - and that was a best-case scenario.

Farkas was sweet and loving, not something Lydia had expected from his rough appearance and reputation as a fearsome warrior. The man she had come to know better wasn't the sharpest sword around, however surprisingly sensitive and insightful, but deeply troubled after everything that had happened with the Silver Hand. They had rarely talked about it, striving for as normal a relationship as they could muster, at first as friends and then as something more. Having a pregnant lover return after half a year's absence was hardly normal. And they barely knew each other. Sure, there was attraction and Lydia would me more than happy to build something lasting with the Companion, but for all she knew he had already forgotten her and was heads over heels in love with Alfhild or Ysolda.

As if that wasn't enough, she was worried about the babe's health. Lydia had little experience with childbearing – whom was she kidding, she had absolutely none. The housecarl knew swords, not babies. But she wasn't just big. She was huge. Wulf had used to tease her about it and they had laughed, but when one of the guards accompanying her advised Lydia to see a midwife as soon as possible, because his wife had never been this big at this stage of her pregnancy, she had nearly panicked.

There was nothing she could do now, the warrior told herself, but the closer they came to Whiterun the more agitated she became. And then, after nearly three weeks, she saw it: Dragonsreach. From there it was only a couple of hours until their carriage clattered over the paved road and up to the city gates.

The guard on duty stopped them there; few people except for farmers and merchants making deliveries and the odd noble drove or rode into the city as custom and practicability dictated they leave their horses and vehicles outside.

The soldier's eyes went wide when he spotted her and Lydia heaved a heavy sigh. Here it came.

"Lydia! What happened to you!?"

"I ate the last idiot to ask stupid questions", the housecarl snapped at the man on duty, "And he's heavy on the stomach."

One of her escort chuckled into his fist and she allowed herself a rueful grin when the guards waved her through the gates without any further delay. She'd apologize to the poor guy later.

Lydia watched the city around her through the window and called out instructions to the soldier driving the carriage. They took the long way along the city walls where they wouldn't be hindered by any stairs. Somehow the housecarl expected to find Whiterun changed, but everything was as always, it seemed. She saw Mila, Carlotta's daughter in the distance and Idolaf and Jon arguing and Danica was sitting on a bench at the back of the temple, no doubt enjoying a short and rare break from her duties.

They passed the residences of Whiterun's most powerful and rich families and after a few more turns Lydia imagined she could hear Heimskr's never-ending sermon about Talos. That was one thing she had not missed.

The carriage came to a stop in front of a sight she had, on the other hand, missed very much. The barracks were still the same, low long rows of houses that leaned against the wall behind the Jarl's palace. She climbed out of the carriage stiff and with her joints creaking, accepting a helping hand from the only woman in her escort.

Then, as she looked around, it really sunk in that, Kyne's breath, she did not even know where she lived. Her old quarters had probably been given to somebody else by now. But Wulf had bought Breezehome, so that's where she could stay. Lydia only needed to get the keys from Proventus.

The climb up the stairs to Dragonsreach left the housecarl short on breath – had she really managed to ascend the Throat of the World a couple of months ago? Balgruuf was thankfully absent, as was his brother and Irileth, but she found the Imperial steward pouring over accounts in the back. He handed over the keys to her new home practically without looking up. Lydia thanked him, received a grunt in answer and left again.

The guards who had accompanied her from Ivarstead followed her to the house, one of them carrying the pack with her belongings. Lydia thanked all of them with last instructions about where they should leave the horse and carriage, gave their leader a pouch with coins and pointed them to the Bannered Mare with strict orders to have a good time and a couple of drinks on her.

The housecarl put her hands on her hips and stretched in hope of easing her back pain. The house didn't look like much to her and she remembered the hanging cobwebs when they had inspected it right after Balgruuf had given it to Wulf. Breezehome. It did sound draughty and it wasn't her home. It was her Thane's and she was honour-bound to stay with him and look after his possessions in his absence. Not that Wulf had many, and most were probably still in Jorrvaskr. So...an empty house it was.

Lydia was all the more glad to have her assumptions proven wrong when she unlocked the door and stepped inside. She had quite forgotten Wulf had commissioned its furnishing. There was a small layer of dust over everything and the furniture smelled new, of sawdust and the oils used to preserve the wood, but other than that it was...homely.

Or, it would be if it was a bit more lived in. The fireplace was cold, but Lydia found a staple of logs and immediately got to work. Moving around felt good after all the time she had spent cooped up in the carriage. The walls of the cottage were lined with shelves and decorations: a woven tapestry, a deer's skull, a weapon rack. Some of the shelves were filled with edibles, others had plates and cups lined up upon them, but most were empty. Behind the fireplace there were two massive, comfortable looking seats and a table. The pantry at the back of the house was well-stocked and Lydia made good use of what she found.

While the food was sizzling in pans, spreading a delicious aroma throughout the house, she explored the upper story. There was not much to be found, a large bedroom and a smaller one and – wait! She knew that trunk! Just as she lifted the lid to confirm that yes, those were her belongings, somebody knocked at the door.

"I'm coming", Lydia hollered and got up again.

Before she made it all the way down the rather steep stairs, her visitor let herself in.

"Hello, sweetheart", Signy called out. "I brought cherry pie!" The redhead spotted her friend and waved like mad. "Derek says you got knocked up!"

Lydia hugged the other woman, took the plate and decided not to comment that Derek would be better off keeping his mouth shut. She had not been back an hour and all the guard probably already knew. Damn gossips!

"How did you know I'd be back?", she asked and lifted the cloth.

"I didn't", Signy replied and made herself comfortable in one of the chairs closest to the fire, stirring the vegetables so they would not burn. Just like Lydia had never been gone. "I just happened to have pie. Well, half of one", she added when she noticed the housecarl give her a look she knew all too well. "Dinner is ready."

The guard heaped a healthy amount of food on her friend's plate and helped herself to the rest, talking the entire time. After Proventus had declared the house inhabitable the guards had moved all her stuff and apparently held a housewarming party – without its owners. Lydia laughed until she choked on the food and then some more. She relayed how she and her Thane slew a pair of vampires that had been plaguing Ivarstead and her unfortunate first encounter with Arngeir, as well as the exciting snippets from their stay at Hogh Hrothgar.

In truth, Wulf had burned the bloodsuckers to ashes after managing to repulse them with some terribly inappropriate innuendo but that was a minor detail. Two vampires were dead and that was all that counted. Her other tales needed no embellishment.

Signy listened with longing on her face. How often they had talked about going on adventures together? But the guardswoman did not begrudge her friend the experience and asked questions as quickly as Lydia could answer them.

"What are the Greybeards like? Everybody is envious of you, you know. Eren threw a fit. She's been assigned to border patrol." The redhead shrugged. "Haven't seen her since."

Lydia knew it was a bad habit to gloat at a rival's downfall, but she could not hold the gleeful grin in. Eren had been making her life hell during her first months with the guard, when she had not had made any friends yet. Hearing the other woman was green with envy was an oddly satisfying feeling.

After a while, their talk inevitably turned to the child Lydia was bearing.

"Ooh. I'm going to be an aunt!", Signy crooned. "That's so exciting!" She leaned forward in her chair, voice dropping to a sly whisper. "So, who's the father? A certain dragonslaying adventurer?"

Lydia endured the waterfall of words with a patient smile, but at that last remark she just shook her head. Signy could not be serious. "It's Farkas", she replied.

"Does he know?"

"No."

The baby had been kicking her more than usual lately and she could not get that one soldier's words out of her mind. What if there was something wrong with her? What if-? She forced herself to stop.

"Look", Lydia began, "Before I tell him I want to see the midwife. To make sure...everything is fine", she forced herself to say. She put away her empty plate and clasped her hands across her belly protectively.

"Sure." Signy polished off the remains of their dinner, soaking a piece of bread in the oil. She then dusted her hands of crumbs and helped Lydia to her feet. "Let's go see her."

oooo

The midwife and her assistant, it turned out, were not at home. They had gone to a distant farm to help with a particularly difficult birth, the woman's sister informed the two warriors when they knocked to the cottage's door. "You could try at the temple", she suggested with an apologetic expression.

"Wasn't there a second one?", Lydia enquired of her friend. Danica was a great healer, but her field of expertise was to treat wounds and illnesses and not delivering babes.

"Yes, but she left for Solitude", Signy replied.

There was nothing else they could do but visit the temple. The resident priest of Mara welcomed them to the Temple of Kynareth and agreed to get Danica. Lydia did not recognize him, but Signy explained that he had taken over the duties of the grandfatherly old priest that the housecarl remembered always had dealt out sweets to the children.

While each city had a temple primarily dedicated to one deity, there were booths where everyone could worship one of the nine. Or, eight, because Heimskr was tending to the shrine of Talos. In each and every city there was a Hall for Arkay and priests to look after the dead, as well as a chapel dedicated to Mara. In Whiterun, Kynareth's temple had a small side wing and served for both, and weddings were usually held outside, beneath the Gildergreen.

To Lydia's surprise, the head priestess was not the one to treat her. After listening to the housecarl's concerns she nodded and went to fetch Jenssen, who, according to her, 'had more experience in the field'.

When Signy asked how that came to be, the acolyte from Rorikstead told them that his mother had been once the town's only physician and he had assisted her as a boy, before he had come to Whiterun. The redhead shrugged, and Lydia immediately felt better to place her child's health in the priest's capable hands. And, if there really was something wrong, a healer wasn't a bad choice anyway.

Jenssen pressed his fingers into her abdomen in various places and Lydia answered a couple of uncomfortable questions. Had she bled? Was there any pain? Finally the priest's hands lit up briefly with a golden glow. Lydia shifted nervously, not able to guess the outcome of the examination from the man's stoic demeanour.

The acolyte righted himself again, clasping his hands in front of him. "As far as I can tell, they are hale and growing up strong."

The relief lasted for only about a heartbeat. "They?", Lydia asked feebly and Signy clutched her hand in delight.

The healer nodded with a small smile. "Of course. You are carrying twins."

"Oh, gods. I need to sit down." Lydia felt herself being dragged over to the nearest bench and collapsed on it, only mumbling a weak 'thank you' when Jenssen brought her a cup of cold water.

Twins. She should be happy, focus on the 'healthy and strong' part, but instead that one work kept playing over and over in her head.

Twins.

oooo

Later that day, Lydia was warming her feet by the glowing embers; all that remained of the fire from midday. Signy had a duty she needed to return to and the housecarl was trying to come to terms with the news. While she was glad there was nothing wrong with her, she now worried about what awaited her. Taking care of two children would be even more taxing than one – as if that prospect was not enough of a challenge. For all that she tried to come up with a plan, her thoughts kept swerving back to the father.

She had to tell him. Farkas deserved to know and it was cruel to keep away from him without reason. They were friends, at least, and she didn't want him to think she did not want to see him again. Besides, the longer she waited the more likely it was one of the Companions was going to visit her...and if she confronted them she wanted to do it on her terms. Like she wasn't scared out of her mind.

Lydia collected the gifts into a bag. She had Athis' cloak and the design's for Ria's shield, and a few other knickknacks. After a brief search she found Vilkas' book and clutched it to her chest.

Midyear had passed, but there had been no way to know how long Wulf's training was going to take. At least with the gifts she would have a reason for stopping by. Besides, it was a nice gesture.

No backing out now, housecarl.

Lydia pulled the door closed behind her firmly and set a brisk stride, but checked it quickly. She did not want to rush or appear desperate. She was just going to catch up with friends, tell the one or other story and...confront the man of her children. Only then did she realize that nobody was watching her. She huffed in annoyance at her silly behaviour and drew in a sharp breath when the baby gave her a kick. One of them, anyway. Gods, six months old and they already knew how to pack a punch. They were going to take after their father, of that she was sure already.

Jorrvaskr lay in front of her, for once not the welcoming wooden structure that was like a second home to her. She swallowed, ignoring the churning sensation in her stomach and took the stairs one at a time, trying to get all the imaginary arguments that were plaguing her out of her head.

Lydia briefly rapped her knuckles against the door's wood and let herself in without waiting for an answer. The mead hall was dark – and quiet. She tensed, but then she saw that a fire had burned low in the hearth and a man stood up from an oversized cushioned seat that creaked in protest. She felt hear heart beat faster.

"Who-"

"Hello, Vilkas", Lydia greeted the Companion with forced cheer and set down her bag. It wasn't heavy, but she knew she should not be carrying any more than absolutely necessary. "Nobody home?"

"Farkas is, the others have gone out-"

She saw his eyes wander to her stomach and whatever warmth there may have been in his eyes, died. He stopped a couple of feet away from her and there was no mistaking his scowl, not even in the bad light.

Well, this was uncomfortable. "I actually really need to speak with your brother", the housecarl said, sensing the warrior's displeasure radiating from him.

"I don't think so", he replied coldly, crossing his arms as if he intended to put himself between her and his brother. Great. He was still the dramatic, judgmental jerk she remembered. It was good to know some things, apparently, never changed.

But Vilkas wasn't done, not by a long stretch. "You dare come back like that!?", he asked, with flared nostrils and his voice rising almost to a shout. "Did you know that not a day has passed Farkas wasn't talking about you? I thought you felt something for him as well! Instead you run off with that...and come back...!" He did not find the right swearword to say with whom, not that he needed to.

Lydia thought she had misheard at first. And when the insinuation sank in, she felt the burn of anger. Curiously detached from her actions she watched herself cross the distance between herself and the tall Companion, and her hands took action without her having any control over them. One thing she registered with great satisfaction was the half-step back he took and the look of alarm the warrior shot her right before she was upon him.

Vilkas had a brief glimpse at the title of the book in Lydia's her hands: 'Songs of the-', and then the tome hit him square in the face. Vilkas' head was whipped around and he felt his teeth cut into his cheek. Worse by far was the crack in his jaw, the sting of the slap and a feeling of wrongness catching up to his stunned brain a moment later.

He stared at the housecarl, who was still clutching the book with her arms stretched out, ready to deal him another blow, in mute shock, one hand going to his limply hanging jaw. He tried to close it, and just like from stuck hinges there was a gritting sound and pain and he realized that she had dislocated his jaw.

Lydia burst out in a hysteric bout of laughter at the Companion's expression of shock and bewilderment, and this entire fucked up situation they found themselves in. Oh, this was so not going how she had imagined it.

She stopped when she saw Vilkas' head snap up and heard the creak of the floorboards. Farkas was standing at the top of the stairs staring at the pair, and he looked like Lydia felt: like he wanted to sink through the floor and into his room.

"I thought I heard shouting", he said quietly.

When the dark warrior saw her, his eyes, so similar and yet so unlike those of his brother, widened, whether because of Lydia's pregnancy, or because of the state his brother was in, or maybe from what he had overheard. Perhaps it was all of the above. Lydia didn't care.

She had not seen her strong, gentle man in half a year and the funny, lightly tingling sensation in her stomach flared up again. She wanted to do something stupid and reckless, like tackle him and kiss him the way reunited lovers did in sappy romances. She wanted him to hold her, wanted to feel his arms around her and to listen to his rasping laugh as they sat upon his bed, legs stretched out comfortably in front of them, whilst they shared a bottle of mead. She wanted everything to be normal again.

But it wasn't. It wasn't and it was his doing.

"You!" Farkas stood his ground when she advanced and poked her finger into his chest. Hard. "You did this to me!"

The Companion looked like he had been the one to have been hit by that book. "I'll be a father?", he asked, dazed.

This was not the reply Lydia had expected. It was the one she had not dared to hope for. "Do...do you want to?", she asked, breathless.

Farkas stirred, the tiniest of nods and Lydia clasped her hands in front of her mouth to hold back the half-sob, half-something-joyous of relief. Her eyes lost focus, the world around her becoming blurry and still she saw Farkas reach out to her, worry and concern on his face.

He did not understand why she was crying all of a sudden, not when she had been angry with him a moment before, but he wanted to comfort her even so.

A whining noise made them both spin around. Vilkas was standing in the middle of the room, mouth slack like that of a fish and pointed animatedly at his face, making another one of those whining sounds.

With a sigh Farkas turned his twin's head left and right before he stepped back. Then, his fist collided with his brother's jaw. Vilkas went down like a sack of potatoes.

Lydia used the distraction to wipe at her eyes and when Farkas turned back to her she smiled up at the Companion. "Hey."

"Hey", he whispered back, his thumbs trailing feather light over her cheeks, fingers combing her hair behind her ears. But no more than that. He was unsure if she would welcome the affection after all this time. Lydia stepped closer and pulled the giant oaf into a kiss that left them both breathless and smiling.

On the floor, Vilkas groaned.

"Let's go down", Farkas suggested. "Before he wakes up."

He had heard Vilkas' accusation and packed more force into that blow that had been necessary. Neither of them wanted to deal with the other man right now. He'd come around, and if not, Tilma could drape a quilt over him.

Farkas led them to his room, not letting go of Lydia's hand and she briefly wondered if he was afraid she was going to run away again. The thought made a fleeting smile pass over her face. She wasn't going to leave, not for all the ancient legends Nirn had to offer. Farkas fetched two bottles of mead from under the counter and she refused the one he gave her. "I shouldn't drink."

"Oh." He had clearly not considered that. "Right."

They sat together on the bed, like they had so many times, but this time something was different. Lydia was all too conscious of the space where their shoulders did not touch. It seemed wrong, this awareness. Farkas must have felt it as well.

"I'm sorry, for Vilkas", he began. "He's been...", the Companion's voice faded into silence; he did not finish. They both knew the excuses by now. "Is Wulf back with you?", he asked, anxious.

"No", Lydia assured him. "He's gone to Dawnstar."

"He left you?" There was a hint of outrage in his question that warmed the housecarl's heart. He cared.

"Only because I told him to. Don't worry; I've had several guards to escort me back", she appeased him and he grunted in answer. "Look, I really don't want to talk about Wulf right now", Lydia sighed. They had to address what had really brought them here, the sooner the better.

The Companion nodded, took her hand into his and with his honest, sincerity that Lydia had come to love about him, he said, "I know we haven't seen each other in a while and I'm not sure if I have a right to ask this, but I want to be there for you. For the child. What I'm trying to ask is; Lydia, do you want to be my family?" He flushed and winced at the wording, but did not back down.

"Are you asking me if I'd marry you?" She was not sure if she was ready for that, if she even wanted it.

"I don't know. I should have an amulet for this, right?" He was beginning to look panicked now.

"Let's try 'together' for now", Lydia suggested. "We don't need an amulet. Maybe tomorrow I'll remember how terribly you snore and rethink my decision."

"You snore worse than I do", Farkas shot back and they laughed.

It wasn't much, no great confessions of love, but the camaraderie they had been missing was restored. They needed some time to mull things through; especially Farkas, who had to come to terms with suddenly becoming a father. They'd take small steps and go from there, but Lydia was sure all would work out now that the Companion wasn't making a run for another city.

She loved how uncomplicated he made such difficult things, with his open-heartedness and his dedication to stick to a decision once he had made it. She might love him, she realized. Farkas wouldn't go back on his word, of that she was sure, no flowery promises needed. The good thing was that with the big warrior ofttimes words were unnecessary.

When he pressed his palm to her stomach, Lydia said, "Sometimes you can feel them move."

"Really?" There was wonder upon his face, and love and when he looked back up at her, realization. "Wait. There's...more than one?"

"Farkas. I'm carrying twins", Lydia burst out.

"Twins?", Farkas repeated, like he had never heard the word before.

"Yes."

Oh Gods. He didn't want them.

And then the warrior's face broke into a huge smile. "They'll be just like me and Vilkas", he declared dreamily.

"I hope they'll be more like you", Lydia answered and they smiled at each other. And then, they had gone from sitting to lying down and were kissing leisurely, hands trailing light touches over each other's bodies.

Farkas was eager, but unhurried and focused on kissing every inch of her skin. Lydia giggled when his breath ghosted over the sensitive skin of her navel.

Their lovemaking was urgent, yet gentle and soft chuckles turned to moans after a brief, awkward struggle filled with breathless laughter when they tried to find a suitable position. Lydia drifted off with her back against Farkas' broad chest, the warrior trailing circles over her bare shoulder, his hand wandering from time to time to briefly touch her stomach as if to assure himself this was all real.

oooo

In the morning they were slow to wake, kissed languidly and dozed off again. Farkas' arm rested heavily over Lydia's chest and he pulled her close, their legs entwined and she could not have gotten away if she wanted to. And it felt absolutely wonderful.

She tickled him awake an indeterminable amount of time later and his retaliation led to another roll in the sheets, slow and thorough this time.

Eventually they left the sanctuary of Farkas' bed to take a bath and head upstairs. No breakfast awaited them, it was far too late. But he other Companions were there and Lydia was greeted with hugs and cheers when Farkas announced with a sheepish smile that they were going to be parents.

She dealt out gifts that had been noticed and carefully looked through, with the items put back to make it look like they had not been touched. Lydia laughed when she found out they had played a guessing game as to who would get what and answered one question after another, about the trip and High Hrothgar and the Greybeards.

Lydia even approached Vilkas who looked suitably chastened, a dark bruise standing out against his pale skin. "This is for you." She held out the book.

Vilkas eyed it wearily. "Is this the one you hit me with?"

"Yes, it's got your face imprinted", Lydia snapped. "See?"

Indeed, there was a small dent in the cover that may have just as well come from being jostled around in her backpack during her journey to Whiterun. Vilkas took the tome gingerly, ready to draw back at the smallest sign that she was going to use it to hit him again.

"You deserved that one", Lydia said and when he didn't answer, flushing red, she knew he agreed.

"What's your gift?", Farkas asked when he noticed that Lydia appeared to be the only one without one.

"I don't know", she replied, only now remembering that secretive letter Wulf had written. "It's still in Breezehome."

They went over together, their arms hooked, drawing glances and mutters already. Lydia didn't care one whit about being the city's gossip fodder now that she had her man at her side, and neither did he. They found the letter. Wulf had tied it closed with some frilly ribbon that she was sure he must have ripped off one of the Greybeard's banners. She turned the paper in her hands, wondering what might be inside. It was not addressed to her, but Proventus or Jarl Balgruuf, but she was absolutely sure it was the right one.

"Open it", Farkas urged and Lydia slowly pulled the letter out of its cover.

A card with a single word written upon it fell out.

Snoop.

Both Lydia and Farkas exchanged guilty grins and the Companion was reminded of all the times he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He offered to take the letter to Dragonsreach since it seemed inappropriate for Lydia to deal with her own gift.

oooo

"What did Proventus get?", Lydia joked in greeting when Farkas returned.

But the Companion did not smile, an unusually serious expression on his handsome face. "Breezehome is yours."

"What!?" Surely, he was leading her on.

"That's what the steward said. Breezehome is yours now", Farkas repeated and looked at Lydia as if for confirmation. He was also dead serious.

"Oh, Mara." Wulf had given her a house. She could not believe he had taken it this much to heart when she had said she feared for her future. "I didn't know." It was way above the call of duty and there was no way she could repay him.

"What are you going to do with it now?", Farkas ripped her out of her thoughts.

"Dust it?", Lydia asked. "Sleep in the big bed?"

"We should initiate it", Farkas suggested, a grin already pulling at his mouth. "Let's go look at it", he decided and Lydia gave in. Together they explored every nook in the house. With Farkas, even hunting for cutlery was exciting. The warrior wanted to help her carry her things into the main room, but Lydia declined. It felt odd to just move in.

Farkas cast the bed a loving glance. "The bed in my room? It was Jergen's. Vilkas and I, we used to jump on it. Got in trouble for it, too." He laughed at the memory. "I bet this one doesn't have an impression yet."

"Farkas, no", Lydia moaned. "The thing might break down, or worse, fall through the floor and what then?"

The Companion scratched his head. "Be awkward explaining it to Proventus." He nonetheless sat down, crumpling the immaculate duvet and petted the empty place next to him. Lydia joined him and let herself fall back. The mattress was soft and bouncy, the pillows stuffed with down. This was much more comfortable than anything she had lain in a long time.

"See?", Farkas grinned. "I told you we should test it."

They did.

xxxx

Summer had passed and the storms had ravaged the countryside, announcing the coming of the cold season and somewhere in that time Lydia had begun to think of Breezehome as hers. By now she was spending as much time at Jorrvaskr as he was at her house. It was nice to have some privacy every now and again, even if the evenings at the mead hall were some of the best she remembered. Everything seemed, brighter, happier, tinted in the glow of her and Farkas' love. She did not even mind that the other Companions around her drank while she had to abstain. Only Farkas kept away from the mead, out of solidarity.

They were to be married on the twenty-fourth of Hearth Fire. The warrior had asked her, properly, with an amulet and in front of all the other Companions and Lydia had said 'yes', amidst tears and laughter and deafening cheers. Ria cried a river, wiping her eyes in the handkerchief Athis had given her, Aela looked wistful, but happy for her and Torvar's eyes were glazed with drink. He managed to slur some congratulations.

Vilkas had managed to apologize for his behaviour on the day of her return. He had taken over the management of their wedding; was inviting all the guests, making sure there would be enough food and drink and generally overlooking all other arrangements. For his brother's big day everything had to be perfect.

He also appeared nervous at the prospect of having Lydia as his sister-in law.

The housecarl found that she was actually was looking forward to being married. She and Farkas were both happy, and if they were rushing things a little, then Nords were known to fall in love hard and fast.

Only two months were left until the birth of their children, but of Lydia's Thane there was no sign.

oooo

"He promised me he would come", Lydia told Farkas one day. "I fear something might have happened to him."

She felt Farkas shrug. He wanted his friend to be at his wedding, but also had an axe to grind with the man over his treatment of Vilkas. Farkas' way of solving such problems usually involved fists and they were not Orcs to consider an appropriate amount of bloodshed at a wedding to be a good sign, she reminded the Companion. The warrior gave her his word he would wait until after the wedding to settle any grudges.

The day Lydia and Farkas were to marry arrived, Wulf did not.

All the Companions were assembled around the temple, as well as what amounted to half of the city guard. A few, like Tilma and Torvar were seated in the benches, but mist remained standing. Farkas was wearing his best suit of armour and Lydia had a gown tailored extra for the occasion. Ria had helped her select the fabrics, and Signy had woven her hair into a complicated plait.

Lydia would never forget Farkas' expression when he saw her walking down the street with her arm linked into Vilkas'.

She could not recall a single word of the priest's sermon, or the blessings the guests bestowed upon them, but she always would remember the way her man's eyes shone, or the soft drone of his voice when he said his vows.

Above them, another storm was rolling in, thunder echoing across the tundra. The Gildergreen's rosy petals were a stark contrast to the dark blue sky and when gusts of wind made the branches swerve, a shower of red sailed down to create a carpet for the newlyweds to stand upon.

Danica said the tree was ill, and it might be, but that joyous day was stained by no such thoughts.

When the first drops of rain began to fall, the guests sought shelter in Jorrvaskr for the reception that would last well into the night.

They received more congratulations, Signy crying how her girl was all grown up now and Tilma kissing Lydia's cheek.

"These halls have seen too much sorrow lately. I wish you all the happiness in the world."

Ria, Athis, Aela and Torvar had bought gifts, and presented them proudly. There was a cradle and toys, blankets and tiny gowns that looked like they had been sewn for a doll that Tilma crooned over.

Vilkas was on his best way to getting drunk with the other Companions, laughing and joking with his brother. But there were also the silences, the glances he cast the housecarl. When there was a lull in the party, he came over and sat down next to her.

Lydia noticed that he wiped at his eyes every now and then.

"I don't remember when last I saw him so happy", Vilkas whispered with a nod towards his brother. "Thank you." He hugged her, cautiously but warmly and drifted away again.

Lydia too rejoined the festivity, she ate and danced until at long last it was time for the couple to retreat.

Lightning illuminated their way as Lydia and Farkas raced for Breezehome through the icy downpour, their fingers linked.

The housecarl opened the door and gasped when she was swept clean off her feet. Farkas had bent down and picked her up like she weighted nothing. Lydia held on to the warrior's neck as he carried her over the threshold and kicked the door shut behind them. She expected to be put down, but no, he insisted on carrying her up all the way to the bedroom.

They were both dripping wet, Lydia's dress turned almost translucent, but that was only one more reason to get rid of their clothes. The Companion smiled as he gently laid her down on the bed. Their bed. Their huge, soft, downy bed.

Wulf could have the bunk in the side room. If he decided to ever show up again.

And then Lydia didn't think about her Thane again, Farkas chasing away all thoughts except for the one about this wonderful man at her side.

xxxx

They were married scant two weeks, when Lydia awoke screaming. Farkas was lighting a wick with shaking hands as she clasped her hands to her abdomen. Her fingers touched wetness as she reached down and when the spark caught, a quivering tiny speck of light, it revealed the dark stain on the linen sheets.

Farkas was already running for the healers, naked as the day he was born while she stared with growing horror at the red dripping down her inner thighs.

Divines, no. Please, no.

It was too soon.