┏━ tribulation.
( SCENE 17 ) ━┛

TERRAN places a newly arrived letter in Ismene's hand, bearing her maiden house's familiar and heartwarming sigil. The dire wolf was a calming sight indeed, and with such a formal display, it could be no one other than her father announcing official news. She breaks the seal away with a crack and hungrily begins to read. Indeed, it is her father's small, conservative script covering the paper, detailing some important news.

"What might it be, m'lady?" Terran asked as she stood a few feet away. "If you don't mind me asking, of course." Fenrir wandered up to the man's side and sat, allowing Terran to give him a scruff on his big, fluffy head. The dire wolf had grown accustomed to the guard's presence ever since he began shadowing Ismene. He was one of the few who could touch the beast.

Ismene looked up in glee at her guard, flashing him a bright smile. "My father tells me that the King is on his way to Winterfell, and he requests that Lukas and I make an appearance," she told her friend and guard.

Terran is quiet momentarily as the Estemore girl continues to scan the letter.

"What might the King be riding so far north for?" Terran asks, voicing the same question they'd both been thinking. It was unnatural for the King to travel such a distance when everyone in the Kingdoms came to him. It must be important enough for the notoriously lazy man to make an effort to travel north.

Ismene shrugged as she set the letter on the table beside her. It wasn't normal for the King to even leave the capital, let alone if the said King was Robert Baratheon. Either way, they would find out soon enough.

"We'll know once we arrive," she tells him as she grips the chair. A sense of nausea suddenly takes her over, and she grabs the chair with both of her hands. Her stomach churns in a horrible way that is all too familiar as he creeps its way up her throat.

"M'lady?" Terran asks, noticing the sudden change.

Before Ismene can even lift a finger, she bolts toward the empty chamber pot near her side of the bed. It was quite embarrassing to be unleashing the contents of her stomach in front of a man, being a noble lady, but at that moment, she didn't care as tears welled in her eyes and her throat burned. Once she could finally utter a word with drool hanging off her lips, she ordered Terran to get help.

"Find Lady Evolet," she croaked as she felt another wave hitting her. Terran must've have been utterly confused as be bolted out of the door and down the hall, the sound of his armor clinking as he ran. Not long after, he came back with her good sister following close behind.

"Ismene?" Evolet exclaimed as she rushed over and pulled Ismene's long locks away from her face. Just as she was finishing up, Terran had obtained a cloth and handed it to Evolet. The girl began to clean up Ismene's face.

"Are you ill?" Terran asked with concern behind them, trying to be helpful in any way he could. "I can fetch the Maester."

Evolet looked up to the man, a pleased and excited grin covering her features as she began to lift Ismene up and toward the bed behind her. Once the girl was lying down, she turned to the guard. "No, she is far from ill," Evolet replied, leaving a confused expression on Terran's face. It would appear the Gods have been kind."

It seemed as if the Terran began to connect the dots as his expression lit up. "You mean to say she's with child?"

Evolet nodded happily. It was one of the most obvious signs of pregnancy, given that it was so early. Either way, House Estemore would finally have another heir. "Unless she seemed unwell throughout the day," she grinned.

"No, no, m'lady was just fine until she finished reading that letter," he replies, gesturing to the open letter on the table near him.

Evolet, now interested, saunters over and snatches the letter. She sees there's a Stark sigil broken on the front, meaning it was from Ismene's family. She planned to scan it to see if anything important was in it. She was too curious not to take a look. Once a few sentences caught her attention, she found her heart leaping bounds. 

"Your father is requesting you visit Winterfell?" Evolet asks, whirling around to face Ismene. She had recovered and seemed to feel a little better after her episode. She was curled up, her face pale.

Ismene nods. "Yes, if we are to get there in time, we'll have to leave tomorrow."

This was Evolet's chance. She'd get to see Robb again, meaning there was still hope. Ismene had promised she'd help make her dreams come true, and Evolet thought the Gods were actually smiling down on her. They should be, as she spends much of her time in God's Wood nowadays.

"You must take me with you," Evolet pleads as she walks over and sits next to Ismene. "Please. I have to see him."

Ismene had promised she'd help Evolet with her Robb situation, so she nodded without a second thought. "Of course," she said, and it seemed as if Evolet was going to start bouncing off the walls. Now, Ismene's good sister seemed in the highest of spirits.

"Will you be telling Lukas tonight?" Evolet asks, now showing excitement about her future niece or nephew. Perhaps her lady mother will finally show a little gratitude toward Ismene for providing an heir for House Estemore so soon in the couple's marriage. Evolet expected the lateral, but there was still the possibility.

Ismene gives her a weak smirk. "I'll tell him tonight, before supper."

❆

LUKAS was in a bitter mood that evening as he approached his chambers. His father had done well in royally pissing him off after assigning him a task better left for the peasants down in Long Lake village or maybe at least someone more qualified.

"Every Lord should be qualified in handling their realm," his father said just as he fled the room. More often than not, Lukas found himself wishing he wasn't a highborn noble with so many responsibilities. Maybe then he wouldn't always be in such a sour mood.

Terran Bayle was standing at the entrance of his shared chambers; the man sent from Winterfell to act as Ismene's personal guard. At first, Lukas had found it annoying, as if he could not protect his wife. He grew to like the man, though, just over the near fortnight he'd been there. Lukas had to admit he was a good guy, and he wouldn't have wanted anyone else to protect his wife when he couldn't.

"Evening, m'lord," Terran greeted as Lukas got closer. The guard seemed to have a joy about him that Lukas couldn't quite place.

"Terran," Lukas greeted simply with a weak smile before passing him and entering the room. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Fenrir loped over to greet him with a kick to the hand as he always did.

Ismene sat at the table, diligently sketching something on parchment with a charcoal piece. Lukas quickly learned that his wife was a skilled artist, among other talents, which he loved about her. As he got close, he found it strangely to be the vague image of an infant.

"Why might you be drawing that?" He asked in all curiosity as he gazed down upon the beautifully crafted drawing. She was so gifted, he thought.

Ismene broke from her trance, gazing up at him with the same knowing look Terran had. It made Lukas' brow cock in inquiry.

"I often sketch things I love and want," she begins. She pulls away the sketch of the infant, revealing Fenrir on a separate page. Just below that was a rough sketch of Winterfell, and finally, she revealed Darik. She loved seeing his face, and she had an almost photographic memory of his features. The sketch brought her comfort.

"It does well in soothing a heart of longing," she then specifically picks up the infant drawing and proceeds to shred it. Once in pieces, she tosses them into the blazing fire behind her, where they disappear into embers. "So I suppose I won't be needing that one anymore."

It didn't take long for Lukas to understand what she was implying. He felt his breath hitch and his heart quicken.

"You mean—?" He could barely get the words out, feeling his body trembling.

Ismene rose to her feet, nodding her head with a wide grin.

Lukas couldn't say anything else as he snatched his wife into a joyful embrace. He was going to be a father, and he would have the heir he needed. He couldn't properly express his happiness, as he could only squeeze his wife as she laughed. Once he set her down, he put a hand against the wax-covered mantle and caught his breath.

"I can't believe this," he sighs, feeling it. This is truly happening. I'm going to be a father."

Ismene wraps her arms around his waist, feeling as pleased as he. She thinks back on the night they'd come together, just after a heated fight. Perhaps the witch had been right; their marriage would prosper through tribulation.

"I also received a letter from my father," she tells him, remembering the letter. "I suppose the King is on his way to Winterfell, and my father invited—more requested that we make an appearance. We would need to leave tomorrow."

Lukas nods, thinking about telling everyone, including the King, that he will be a father. Not that he'd really care, but Lukas would tell anyone with working ears. The heir felt his soul at peace for the first time in a while.

❆

SUPPER in the presence of Henrik and Helen Estemore was an occasion that Ismene soon found to be bleak since she'd joined the family in their home. Unlike the cheerful meals surrounded by her siblings, filled with laughter, jokes, and tales about their days, the meals eaten by the family of foxes were far more tense and unwelcoming.

Despite knowing that supper was usually a tedious gathering among her new family, Ismene could hold at least a slight grin on her lips as she followed Lukas into the dining hall. As he always did, anytime Ismene left her and Lukas' chambers, Fenrir trotted after her. By now, the beast seemed as if he were nearly the size of a normal-sized wolf, which was very large for an animal considered as a pet. When he would reach full size, she was unsure of the type of implication they would face with her good mother and her distaste towards Ismene's companion.

As expected, Helen, Evolet, and Henrik were all present at the table already. A servant was already setting out plates of food and filling chalices with wine. Another servant was serving the foot onto their smaller platters.

"By gods, does the beast always have to be present at supper?" Helen scowled as she watched the dire wolf sit on his rump next to the chair that Ismene had taken a seat in. The animal looked between them all with his golden eyes as if he was involved in the conversation.

"He is very protective of her," Lukas responded in his wife's defense. We would need a new chamber door if we tried locking him up for even the shortest time. It's best to allow him to be with her, mother."

Helen rolled her green eyes. "Best that I don't find one of my cats missing," she warned. "Otherwise, there'll be a need for more than a new chamber door once I've had it with you."

Just as the servant girl was going to pour wine into Ismene's chalice, she covered the top politely before looking up at the meek girl. "Water instead, please."

Her strange choice of drink, especially for a grown woman, did not go unnoticed by those seated at the table. Henrik gave Helen an inquisitive glance, which was a rare thing Lukas knew. His parents rarely conversed on any level other than formal. They only spoke when necessary, and at any other time, they were silent towards each other. It was as if they weren't even married. Evolet also noticed before she began to quietly sip at her wine.

"Are you feeling well, Ismene?" Henrik spoke up. She looked at her good father in surprise.

"Oh, um, yes, I am," she says quickly, with a shy smile and a dip of her head.

"Is wine not your drink of choice?" Helen asks curiously in a tone other than brash, which confuses Lukas and Ismene. I understand it's a Southern drink. We have mead if that is more to your taste."

"She can't drink right now," Lukas answers for her. She silently praises her husband for sparing her the embarrassment.

"Why not?" Henrik asks the question that had been appearing in everyone's mind.

"I don't want to hurt the baby," Ismene blurts out. The weight of the news lifts from her shoulders as the expressions of the Estemores suddenly change. For the first time, Ismene sees a grin appear on Henrik's features. Helen's usual scowl softens into something kinder, and Evolet displays a face of utter glee.

"You're with child?" Evolet exclaims happily.

Ismene nods, which prompts more questions from her good-parents.

"How long has this been known?" Helen asks curiously. Hearing her speak in such a curious and open tone was strange.

"She found out just this morning, I believe," Lukas informs them. "Then she told me shortly before supper."

"It'll be a welcoming site to see these halls filled with plenty of Estemore's again," Henrik says. "I was lonely in my youth, but my father told me that our Keep was once teeming with our likes."

It doesn't help when the lord and lady of the house can't even speak to one another properly, Ismene thought to herself. She wondered how they were unable to find love despite the circumstances they faced. She could only think of how she and Lukes did and were. Helen was once an outstanding beauty, and Henrik was a fairly attractive man. What was so wrong between them that even instinct couldn't pull them together?

"Will you announce it during King Robert's visit to Winterfell?" Evolet asks.

"I couldn't think of a better time," Lukas nods with a smirk as he looks at Ismene.

"I propose a toast, then," Henrik raised his chalice. They all raised theirs; Ismene's now contained water. "To the health of the impending addition of our house."

Metal chalices clicked together in unison just before the family gulped at their wine. Ismene drank her water, but she could only distinguish the sharp taste of the metal.