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Lydia and I are back from a little jaunt to take care of a few bandits. I open the door to Breezehome, contemplating a quiet evening. Maybe I'll read a little, do a little alchemy.
I'm not prepared for the sight that greets me as I enter the house. "Sweet Mother, what-!?"
Lydia rushes to my side, sword half-drawn, but sheathes it when she sees that there's no immediate threat. Just a very large number of dead deer stacked up in the kitchen. And Farkas and Vilkas, naked except for their loincloths, curled up on the hearth, fast asleep.
"Lydia?"
"Yes, my Thane."
"Is this a Nord thing?"
"No, my Thane. I believe this is what happens when werewolves have a stag party."
I glance at her. Utterly impassive, as usual. I look at the dead deer, and then at the sleeping twins. Which, I have to say, is a lot nicer than looking at the dead deer.
"What should I do about this, Lydia?"
"Serve venison at the wedding reception, my Thane."
Practical as ever, Lydia. "No, I mean about-" I guesture at Farkas and Vilkas. "About them."
"My Thane, I am a simple housecarl. I cannot possibly be expected to know what to do should the two handsomest men in Whiterun turn up in my house naked. However, as Dragonborn, I'm sure you're equal to this conundrum."
I think maybe I catch just a hint of a smile on her lips, but she turns away before I can be sure.
"Where are you going?" I ask.
"Oh, to the market. I think we need garlic and lavender."
As the door shuts behind her, I think I hear her chuckle.