┏━ tribulation.
( SCENE 6 ) ━┛

ISMENE felt like she couldn't breath. As the Estemore's were being led away from the courtyard to settle in and be shown their temporary quarters, she felt reality finally settling over her. This was real and this was happening. She never fully grasped that the Estemore's would arrive as her parents had promised, nor did she really think she would ever marry. Of course it would happen, but to her, it didn't seem like it really would. As she watched her intended and his family slip out of the courtyard at the lead of servants, a slight frown formed on her lips.

"I don't like him," her twin brother's voice has her turning. He is standing rigidly, with his arms crossed as he shifts from one leg to the other. A sneer covers his face as he is looking off in the direction that Lukas has disappeared with dagger like eyes."I don't like him at all. He seems rather dodgy."

Ismene shrugs with a sigh. She can tell that the dislike that her twin has toward her future husband was going to be an issue. She loved her brother dearly, but his disapproval of Lukas would be something that would become a bane.

"Darik, I know you do not approve of him," she begins with a heavy sigh. She wasn't even sure if she would be able to convince him to give Lukas a chance or if she even wanted to herself. "I know you don't know him. I mean, I don't even know him. But I hope these next few days will help me understand the man I'm to marry and I hope that you won't make this union a burden on me."

Darik scoffs, his sharp jaw line clenching every few moments as his eyes statues narrowed. "I just don't like him. Just the way he acts, the way he looks at you; you're nothing but brood mare to him. He's arrogant and haughty, just like his mother. Our father is sending you into a life of misery."

The courtyard is nearly empty by now, making their conversation available for any wondering ears. She is aware of the unsettling silence, but she must make it clear that he needed to back off. "Don't do this to me," she nearly pleads, except it sounds more like a demand. "This isn't my choice. I am forced into this. Don't resent my intended for this." His eyes immediately look to her and gleam with a flash of anger.

"I won't promise that I will accept this," Darik mutters with all seriousness. "This is unfair." They stand just a foot apart, Ismene looking to him with a pleading gaze. She wanted her brother to be the one that supported her and eased her worry, but now he was doing nothing but magnifying his anger. "You don't deserve to be sold off like this."

"We both knew this would happen one day," she says, crestfallen. "We knew that one day I would marry and leave Winterfell for good. This isn't something unexpected."

Darik sneers, shaking his head. "It don't care, Ismene," he growls lowly. "Now that it is actually happening, you can't expect me to not show any resistance."

She understood that her brother was deeply conflicted. He must've known that he would not be able to change what was to occur and that it would happen no matter what. She couldn't be angry with him for being upset himself. He was still worked up, as he shook his head and began to turn away. As a single tear began to roll down her cheek, Darik left her where she stood. Snow had begun to fall above as she watched him leave with his cloak flowing behind him. She stood alone in the courtyard, wallowing in her sorrow.

❆

LUKAS loved being in Winterfell. The Keep made his own home look far smaller, in a sense, and less prominent, with its stone walls heated by underground springs and the seemingly endless passageways. It was beautiful, but reminded him that he was only ever going to be a lesser Lord and for a moment he wished he were able to be married into a higher family. His intended, Ismene, was marrying lower in a sense.

As he made his way toward the Great Hall, the room he had been instructed to go to was just a few turns left and right, he felt the pain of hunger make its presence known as spasms in his belly. He was hungry and he hoped that the Starks would be serving something delicious.

As he strides passed hustling servants carrying platters and things alike, he finally finds the room. Already, it was filled with the glowing light of burning candles and a few fire places and the smell of cooked food had him wanting to run inside. The music, being played by more servants, was at a slow and leisurely pace that aligned with each step he took into the Hall. Finding the table of honor, just below the platform seats of the Starks, his sister and mother were already seated and picking at a plate of cooked meat.

"How is the dinner?" He asks with a slight grin as he steps over the bench to take a seat at the table. "I'm famished." The table, adorned with a blue silken table cloth and a few silver candlesticks, indicated that it was reserved for them alone.

"Roasted duck," Evolet tells him as she is cutting a piece of the meat with a knife and a fork. Lukas flashes a pleased grin, as duck is his favorite dish. Snatching a piece from the cooked carcass before them, he places it on his plate and doesn't hesitate to start cutting it into morsels.

"Don't eat so ravenously," Lady Helen mutters as she is pulling away a napkin from her lips. She was often the more judgmental of his parents which often made it difficult to be around her. "You'll make yourself look like a heathen." She glares at him with steely green eyes, but he ignores her.

"Don't be so uptight, mother," Lukas replies with a shrug of his shoulders. He is shoving a piece of the meat in his mouth. "This is to be my kin within the next few days. If they can't handle the way I eat, then perhaps they have worse issues to be dealt with." He shoved another piece of the meat in his mouth before reaching for a chalice of wine to wash it down. Already, he feels the hunger pains waning.

Taking a moment to breath after stuffing his face, Lukas manages to catch the wandering gaze of his sister. Evolet's eyes are locked on something behind him and it has him raising a brow. He turns quickly to find the source without consideration that it may draw attention to them. Searching the crowd of conversing people, his eyes land on one of the younger Stark boys, Robb.

Lukas quickly looks back to his sister, a mischievous grin plastering itself on his face. "I see you fancy the Stark boy," he jests. "Will we be fated with our own wolves then? Or will father sell you off to that trout?"

Evolet is quick to pull her gaze away, her cheeks blushing. She hadn't intended for anyone to see her staring at Robb, but she couldn't stop herself once they had met gazes. Then, she had been entranced with the fluttering of her heart.

Their mother glares at him, then his sister. "You stay away from that Stark boy," Lady Helen immediately growls at Evolet. "It's tragic enough that your brother is being forced to marry one. I don't need to face losing you to one as well."

Evolet feels her heart drop and her cheeks grow hot. Sudden tears of anger, or maybe even sadness, threaten to well in her eyes and spill onto her cheeks. In response, she drops her eating utensils and adverts her gaze to her lap.

The grin that had been so apparent on Lukas' features was quick to melt away. He looks to his sister, who's gaze is adverted down to her lap. He then looks back to his mother.

"Why do you resent them so much?" He asks.

His mother sneers, brushing away loose strands of dark brown hair as she lets out an annoyed sigh. "The Starks wronged me years ago," she mutters. What she was saying was something he had never heard before. "When I still was apart of my maiden house Mandal, my intended was none other than the man you will call your Good-Father." The conversation ended promptly with the aversion of her green eyes.

Lukas was left realizing two things: his mother had a resentment for house Stark, and his sister had an attraction. Never would he have known that his mother was supposed to be the Lady Stark, and not Estemore. He wanted to know more, but he knew that his mother would not be the one to reveal it; he would have to speak with his father, if he ever had the time. His usual optimistic and playful attitude soon faded as he continued to eat despite having lost his appetite.

As they sat in a silence for a very long spell, Lukas pondered. He knew that their mother and father didn't have a very healthy marriage, that he and his sister were but a duty fulfilled and not an act performed in love. He never thought that his mother might have loved someone else, and that's why she resented their father so much.

Amidst his deep thinking, his eyes manage to catch a figure wandering into the Great Hall; It was Ismene. She was clad in a flowing violet dress and her chocolate ringlets fell lazily over her breasts. Behind her, a little puppy trailed close to her legs, it's golden eyes looking excitedly up at her as it pranced.

She drifted through the crowd, many wondering eyes following her. Lukas saw men looking after her longingly, while others leaned over to talk to each other, most likely about her. In a split second surge of strange jealousy, he rose to his feet and jogged over to her before she could take a seat. As he ran up, he checked to make sure that the men knew that she was already claimed. A strange feeling filled him once he realized he was beginning to care.

When Lukas appeared at her side, she immediately felt her body fill with heat. They both stopped, meeting gazes. Steely grey and mahogany brown met and she felt her legs growing weak. At her side, Fenrir is leaping to attention. The little Direwolf yelps excitedly.

Lukas gazes down at the beast, noting that it didn't look much like a hound as he had previously thought. It had bright golden eyes and a strikingly silver pelt and pointed ears. "That's a type of hound I've never seen before," he comments. "We've got plenty in Lakewell but none like this." Ismene reaches down and picks up the animal, where it excitedly begins to lick her cheeks.

"He isn't a hound," she laughs lightly. "He's a Direwolf. His name is Fenrir." Lukas raises a brow and they both begin to gravitate toward the edge of he crowded area. They find a relatively empty area to stand near one of the two fireplaces.

"A Direwolf?" He asks, now realizing why he had noticed how different it looked from a normal dog. He rubbed the pup on the head, and in response Fenrir turned his head and began to lick Lukas' hand. He let out a light chuckle before pulling it away. "That's quite fitting, I must say, with your sigil being such a magnificent beast. I once found a silver fox when I was a boy; I kept it in secret but it wasn't long until my father discovered it and I was forced to let it free."

Ismene giggles at his little story. At that moment, she couldn't understand why Darik had found such resentment in her betrothed. She didn't know him all to well, but he was making an effort to talk and that was good enough for her. She was grateful enough that at least Jon and Sansa seemed to liked him. Feeling as if she was being watched, she turns her gaze to her right to see the glaring gaze of non-other than Darik.

Lukas turns his gaze not long after she does. He sees the glare of Ismene's twin brother, Darik. He frowns slightly before looking back to her. "I see that your brother does not particularly care for me," He half mutters.

Ismene looks back to him, slightly nodding as she too holds a still expression. "Please don't feel like you can't talk to me because of him," she is quick to say. She is scared that Lukas will no longer try as he has been after seeing the disproving glare of her brother. "He is just not happy with the marriage we are both being pushed into."

Lukas offers her a slight smirk of reassurance. "There is a something I want to ask you," he says softly. They lean a little closer and the proximity has Ismene's heart leaping. Fenrir manages to stay still in her arms, which she is thankful for. "I know that we are just acquaintances, but I would like to extend a preposition to you." His words have her completely on edge.

"Would you like to be friends?" He asks. His question was not what she might have expected. He was right, though; it would the first step into making their transition to husband-and-wife far easier if they were first friends. The intimate feelings would come eventually, with time.

She nods her head lightly, a slight smirk appearing on her lips. "I think I would."