┏━ tribulation.
( SCENE 5 ) ━┛

IN the foggy distance, the colossal, shadowy Keep known as Winterfell loomed ominously as if it were waiting patiently to receive the Estemores. The air was thick with cool humidity, and with each breath that Lukas drew, it seemed to weigh him down, especially when he sat in his saddle.

 At his side, his father rode, his icy gaze narrowed toward the rolling distance before them. They emerged from the eastern forest bordering Winterfell, leaving them to cross the open, grassy hills. Behind the lord and his heir, a company of guardsmen followed with a small carriage house that contained their lady mother, Helen. In the air, the silver fox of House Estemore was proudly raised on a blue banner.

On Lukas's other side, his younger sister Evolet rode with an ever-present sneer apparent on her still features. She glared ahead with her mahogany eyes, having the same expression their father held. Lukas looked between them both, cracking a smile in an attempt to break up the tension that was obviously heavy in the already thick air. He let out a light chuckle, continuing to look between them both as they continued toward Winterfell.

"Here I am, the one being forced to marry a girl I don't know, and I have the company of you two," he jests. His attempt at being playful was to no avail, as both of them continued to stare off in the distance. The only response Lukas received was Evolet pulling her furs closer to her face. Rolling his eyes, he looked at his father. "What is it that troubles you?" He accuses more than asks.

Lord Henrik lets out a heavy sigh, his eyes finally looking at his heir. "It has been a long ride, Lukas," he mutters rather sleepily. "Just because you can keep your vitality does not mean we must either."

Lukas merely shrugged. He put his reins in one gloved hand before busying himself with cracking his knuckles. "I just find it unfair that I have to come here just to marry her. I don't understand why she couldn't've just traveled to Lakewell and made our lives easier."

At his side, Evolet scoffs. "Of course, you would think so," she mutters, shooting a dagger-like glare in his direction. "You don't consider that she is also being forced into this. She'll be living in Lakewell for the rest of her days, so perhaps just having her marriage in her home would be reassuring."

Lukas rolls his eyes at his sister. As his side, his father speaks up.

"House Stark is also our liege," Lord Henrik speaks up in his ever-domineering tone. It was the same one from which Lukas had experienced many scoldings. "We do as Lord Eddard wishes without question. We are lucky enough that I acquired this betrothal in the first place."

"Why is it that I must be the one to marry the Stark girl?" Lukas mutters. His face stills into an annoyed grimace. 

He saw it unfair that he was forced to marry someone he'd only met once, two years prior. He wanted to live his life the way he wanted, and it didn't involve a marriage for a very long time. He was fortunate enough, though, that he had been able to see what his intended looked like. Then, he deemed that the marriage wouldn't be that horrible since he was forced to participate in the union. "Why not give Evolet to the heir, Darik? Or maybe even the younger one, Robb."

Evolet begins to protest at his blunt statement, but she is quick to quiet. Their father sighs before replying. "Because I have different plans for her. I hear that the heir to Riverrun will need a wife soon, and I intend to extend another offer."

Seeing that he wasn't alone in the betrothal madness, Lukas glanced at his sister with a frolicsome grin. She sneered at him immediately, adverting her gaze as far away from his as she could.

"Southern bound with an attempt at creating more political ties," Lukas ticks, nodding his head in a false and mocking manner of approval. "Always an ambitious one, aren't you, father? Though, I don't fancy our family much for the heat."

Before anything else could be said about arranged marriages and broken dreams, the sound of pounding hooves approaching them fixed their attention ahead. Lukas narrowed his eyes into a squint to see a quickly approaching squad of Stark guardsmen brandishing the Direwolf on their raised grey banners.

Even though he tried his hardest to keep his usual cool composure, Lukas couldn't stop the rapid beating of his heart as he finally realized how real the situation was. He'd been told it would happen for years, but now that it was, he wanted nothing more than to turn tail and run home.

"Ah, it looks like our escort has arrived," Lord Henrik half mutters. Lukas, feeling rather intimidated by the thundering of the hooves, purses his lips and shifts nervously in his saddle. Evolet, noticing his sudden transition from his usual arrogance, allows a smirk to grace her lips.

The group of guardsmen pulls their horses to a stop not far away from the Estemore presage. "Lord Estemore," one of the men speaks up. Lord Stark waits patiently for your arrival. If you will, please follow us, and we will lead you to the Keep."

Lukas' father merely nods. The heir can feel himself being permanently locked into the betrothal now, and it fills his heart with an unsettling feeling of dread. The group of Stark guardsmen round their horses around, and the presage continues toward the castle.

❆

COMMOTION outside Ismene's chamber window causes her to draw her attention away from Fenrir. The little Direwolf pup managed to gain its strength after she nourished it, and she quickly found a loyal companion in the beast. With a sudden jolt of excitement, she gingerly sets the pup on her bed before running out of her chambers with the door closing behind her.

She sped through the halls, passing servants carrying trays and baskets in anticipation of their guests' arrival, until she finally came to the door leading to the courtyard. Shoving it open, she ran out to find they had finally arrived.

The Estemores were finally within the walls of Winterfell, indicating that her marriage was dawning on the horizon. Riders, wagons, and even a small wheelhouse were shared through the gates and into the courtyard. 

The grey Estemore fox and salmon dotted the scene before her on banners brandished by guards. Days before, her mother and father had warned her they would be coming, and she had spent many restless nights pondering how it might go. As her eyes scanned the area, she found them landing on a single figure dismounting from his horse.

It was a tall, young man with deep chocolate hair similar in shade to hers. Though he wasn't looking toward her, his light, greyish-blue eyes were narrowed suspiciously as he gazed around the unfamiliar surroundings. His jaw was clenched and his posture rigid, indicating he might have been upset or uncomfortable. When his gaze finally did meet hers, she instantly knew that she had met him before.

Her father suddenly appeared behind her on the threshold, placing a kind hand on her back. "Come on, dear," he says optimistically. "Your mother and siblings are already waiting to receive them."

She knows she cannot escape her problems as she wishes. Nodding submissively, she allows her father to guide her and cross the courtyard even though everything within her tells her to run. Sure, she harbored confusing thoughts about the entire ordeal, about marrying someone she didn't know and finding excitement. The other part of her was scared, scared of her soon-to-be husband being a complete psychopath.

Wandering further out into the open, she found that, just as her father had said, her siblings were, in fact, lined up to formally receive their guests. Darik stood at the head, a very noticeable grimace apparent on his still features. Robb and the others followed in coordination of age until it ended with little Rickon. As Ismene shuffled past the obvious gaze of her intended, her heart beat uncontrollably. She felt his gaze, including that of his father and the girl he supposed was his sister, burning into her. After finding her place in line, she forced her gaze to the ground.

Behind Lukas, one of the Estemore guards was opening the wheelhouse door. Outstepped his mother, Lady Helen, her green eyes gazing around with an ever-present look of arrogance. She was a haughty woman, and her behavior followed her like a shadow wherever she went. It was often a joke among their family that she was the one from whom he had inherited his fiery spirit.

His mother pulled the tresses of her dress as high as possible as she glides forward to find her place at her husband's side. Once stopped, she still grips her dress tightly in her fist. Lord Eddard and Lady Catelyn step forward with the kindest smiles. Lord Henrik returns it, but Lady Helen simply gives a curt nod. The lower lord and his wife bow before their liege.

"Lord Stark," Henrik greets formally before taking Lady Catelyn's hand and kissing lightly on the top of her palm. "It is good to finally see you." Lukas could tell that his father was already upset about how his mother acted. His father turns back to Lord Stark, who gives the same gesture to his Lady mother.

"It is good to see you as well," Eddard replies warmly. "I believe it has been many moons since we last saw each other. I see that your son has also grown into a fine young man." At the mention of him, Lukas looks to their liege Lord with a shy smile and dips his head respectfully. His father glances at him with an agreeing smile as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

"Indeed," Lady Helen replies with her usual proud tone, not giving her husband the chance to speak. Henrik glances over with an annoyed glare. It was known that, ever since Lady Helen bore a bastard fathered by a house guard, their marriage had dwindled to nothing from what little had existed. The bastard was now a part of the Night's Watch. "Lukas has proved himself to be more than prepared for lordship. Our Evolet has turned into a fine young lady as well."

Eddard lets out a slightly nervous laugh before looking back to Lord Henrik. Lukas knew that his mother's haughty demeanor always bothered people.

"Well, Catelyn and I are more than happy to be hosting your family," Eddard continues. He turns slightly, his gaze suddenly resting on Ismene, where she stands between Kaela and Darik. Her cheeks flush with heat as he motions for her to come over. "Come over, my dear," he coaxes, though it does no good at making her feel at ease. She glances at her twin with a terrified look, but Darik only nods for her to go. She then looks to Jon, who is nearby, and offers her a supportive nod. Not feeling any reassurance, she reluctantly makes her way over.

As soon as she stops at her father's side, she can feel the burning gazes of the Estemore's. Lord Henrik is a reserved man, she can already tell, and his wife is even more intimidating. The girl, Evolet, doesn't seem to be the same way as she stares at the ground submissively. The only gaze still curious her is the one of her intended, Lukas.

Eddard clasps gentle hands on her shoulder. "This is Ismene, our eldest daughter," he presents her as if she were a prized horse. For a moment, she feels angry, as if she were property being auctioned off. Only Lady Helen's approving nod makes her feel a little more hopeful.

"She is a beauty," the older woman comments approvingly, the slightest of smirk appearing on her lips. It was the first time that she hadn't acted haughtily. "She will give us fine grandchildren one day."

Lord Henrik nods his head for Lukas to step forward. The heir gives his father one glance before finally stepping forward, just feet away from his betrothed. She was much shorter than him, with a stature that made her almost look like a child. She had a full body, though, with the slightest hints of curves visible through the opening of her cloak. They met eyes, and he offered her a gentle smirk. She returned it a little more nervously.

"I am Lukas. I believe we have met before," he utters amid the silence that had hung between all of them. He said his name as if she never knew it, but it was proper to formally introduce themselves. He offers her a hand, which she takes in a light shake. "During a dance a few years ago."

Ismene suddenly understood why she thought she knew him or at least had seen his face before. They had danced together at her and Darik's eighteenth Name Day celebration just two years before.

"Ismene," she breathed, recalling how he had swung her around beautifully and treated her like a princess that night. She remembered the flashy smiles and the laughter, which made her heart beat from the wonderful recollection of that night. Even though she would normally be embarrassed to show affection in front of her family, she didn't care. "I remember that night very vividly."

They both smile, gazes locked.