Darren felt like shit. He always did after a full moon. Unlike some of the Circle he hated being a werewolf and resisted the change, fighting it instead of embracing the feral part of himself. Darren had made a habit of traveling back separately to avoid lectures about rejecting his 'gift' from the others and calm down. Luckily for him the road had been empty of bandits, dragons or other problematic creatures, giving him ample time to gather his thoughts and enjoy the trip for a change.

He finally approached the open gates of Whiterun where he had now made his home. Greeting the guards with a curd nod, Darren entered the hold. Hopefully Lydia had seen the other Circle members returning and made him something warm to eat. Her stews were particularly good.

"My thane' one of the guards said, jogging after him and interrupting his thoughts of food. "Congratulations on your marriage. Your wife came looking for you just now. You just missed her. Apparently you had forgotten to tell her where you lived."

Darren snorted, not looking at the guard now awkwardly trailing behind him. After his night out with Sanguine the guards kept messing with him for days, but that was before he had enough and a shout send them flying. This guard must be new, hard to tell with face covering and matching armor. Maybe some weird initiation ritual, bored guards do come up with the stupidest stuff sometimes.

The guard didn't give up however and undeterred by the silence followed Darren to the door of Breezehome. "We send her up to Lydia, not really knowing what to do with her until you arrived. The captain said to tell you as soon as you returned from your quest with the companions."

Getting tired of this bad joke the dragonborn turned to the annoying young man, about to give him an earful. Before Darren could open his mouth however, the door came off its hinges and slammed straight into him, knocking him to the ground. The people responsible falling on top of the door, effectively pinning him to the ground. His first instinct was to shout, but the crash and now the heavy weight on his chest made it hard to breathe, let alone shout.

The people on top of the door weren't done with whatever they were doing, Darren realized, as the tip of sword was jammed through the door and hit the ground next to his head with a thud.

He swallowed nervously. 'Surely this wasn't how the legendary dragonborn and champion of many eadra and deadra was going to meet his end?'

The dragonborn could hear punches being dealt back and forth between the people on top of him and the door, heavily armored fists landing on even tougher armor. He prayed neither of the fighters would allow the other a moment to pull the weapon free and give it another go. He really, really didn't want to die as collateral damage.

His name as Darren the lucky seemed once again deserved as he could hear guards yelling and running towards them, their heavy footsteps becoming louder and louder. The fighters above him stopped trading blows and judging by the weight, one of them got off the wooden door.

'Saved by the guards, that's a first! The new guy from before wasn't as dumb as previously thought. He earned himself some ale!' Darren thought with a smile.

He breathed a sigh of relief and was about to thank the gods just when the wooden surface suddenly moved towards his face and everything went black.

XXX

Darren woke with a gasp and bolted upwards. A headache made itself immediately known and stabbed at his skull. Gritting his teeth, he cursed and let himself fall down again.

He was lying on a hard uncomfortable bed under a thin dirty blanket. The air was a bit damp and there was not much light, save for candlelight a few paces away. Turning his head to the side he cursed as he recognized where he was.

Jail.

Guess that guard wasn't getting his ale after all, if he just sends victim and troublemaker alike to the cells, he noted humorlessly. The throbbing in his head made him grimace and he put his arm over his face, trying to shut the pain out together with the flickering light from the candle.

"You are an asshole, you know that right?" a female voice near him spoke.

Great, Lydia was here with him in jail to tell him off on top of everything else.

"How about you tell me what happened first? You can yell at me later, I got a headache now so please speak softly."

"Well, I had just cleaned the house, because that is what housecarls are apparently for, according to some piece of dragonborn shit and decided to do some actual combat training. You know, that thing I have actually spend most of my life doing instead of babysitting you."

Lydia was speaking a lot louder than she needed to, clearly ignoring Darren's plea. What she was saying didn't hurt his feelings though. He knows she sounds bitter when she is angry, but when she has spit all her venom and had calmed down, she actually doesn't mind staying in the town that much. Lydia had even admitted before she liked protecting the town and training the local militia more than crawling through weird dungeons with her thane. So no hard feelings, but for now that doesn't stop his headache from getting worse with all this yelling.

"So I just finished putting on my armor and get downstairs when there is this large orsimer woman, clad in heavy armor, strutting around the house like she owns it. And then, here is where it gets good, she tells me she actually does own it! As she has just married the piece of shit I mentioned earlier. I tell her off, because who by the nine does that? Who is dumb enough to do that?! She gets angry, accusing me of being your effing mistress. I laugh at how ridiculous this all sounds, but then she sees this as an admission and an insult. She charges me, we fight and smash through the door after demolishing half the furniture. The guards come and tell us to knock it off, so we back off. That clumsy orc then manages to step on the part of the door where your ugly mug was under. Her fat ass and a full Orcish armor weight a lot, so you were out for the count. And that is how we got here. Enough explanation for ya?"

Lydia takes a few deep breaths after this outburst while I take the time to let this all sink in.

"So you weren't making stew? I really hoped you saw the other Companions and decided to make me some." Darren finally said, his mind still a bit hazy.

"You little ….!" Lydia snarled, jumping up to show him that he had crossed a line. Darren knew she could throw a mean punch, so this might not have been the best time for a bad joke.

Before the housecarl could get close however, heavy footsteps on the hard floor echoed through the dungeon. Three guards, Darren noted, wearing full armor.

Soon they came into view of the cramped cell and halted before the pair. Two men and a woman, their faces covered by their telltale helmets while their hands were gripping their weapons tightly. Darren thought they were all looking quite tense judging by their body language

"It is time, the jarl would like to see you now and sentence you for any crimes committed. If you would follow me, please. Your wife has already arrived." One of the two guard said as he opened the cell. The 'please' didn't sound friendly at all.

Lydia and Darren exchanged looks before he stepped out of the cell. The guard that had spoken started leading the way out of the dungeons, while the second guard kept trailing them.

Looking back Darren could see that the third guard, the woman of the trio, kept an eye on Lydia but did not close the cell door again.

'Guess she got off easy…' He thought to himself. 'But usually they all go easy on me too? At least it I can now see what all the fuss is about…'