┏━ tribulation.
( SCENE 21 ) ━┛

A week and a half later, Bran still hadn't woken. It was a looming omen to all the anxious and worried Starks that brooded throughout the castle while waiting, that including Lukas' pregnant and upset wife. He didn't want to tell her they had to return to Lakewell, but how could he let them stay any longer? He had to return to his lordly duties with his father. He wanted to give his wife the desires of her heart, to see her little brother wake up, but there was only so much he could do.

The Lakewell heir was caught within the ominous haze that had descended up Winterfell. It hadn't lifted a bit, for all knew that if the boy woke, he would be crippled forever. Whatever chance he had at being a normal man once day was all but gone.

Lukas meandered down the hall, not really heading in any particular direction or to a specific destination. With Ismene off with Darik, saying their farewells before they finally departed home, Lukas was left alone. It was obvious that Evolet was tangled under the sheets with Robb somewhere, as the heir had quickly figured out why his sister had joined them at Winterfell in the first place. Deep down, he wouldn't feel sorry for her if she got with child. His sister was naive and she would pay for it.

Amid his thoughts, the Fox didn't even notice his own good-father heading his direction. When Lord Stark finally came into his view, Lukas suddenly stopped. Ned did as well, the same melancholic expression painted on his that face he'd been carrying for days now.

"Lukas," Ned greeted weakly. "How are you fairing today?"

Lukas cleared his throat. "Quite well, m'lord," the younger man replied. Ned clasped a hand on Lukas' shoulder and gave him a reassuring look.

"Don't worry about the formalities, son," Ned managed to crack a grin that he obviously didn't feel. "You're the father of my first grandchild. We are family. Now, walk with me."

Lukas did as his liege lord said, following the older man down the hall in the direction he'd been going. He would be lying if he said he didn't still feel nervous around Ned, as he didn't spend much time around the man and he was Ismene's father after all. He hoped deep down that, if Ned could like him, Darik eventually would. Only for Ismene's sake, of course.

"You're leaving tomorrow, I hear," the lord began as they walked at a leisurely pace. Lukas wondered where the king might be at if not at Ned's side.

"We are," Lukas agrees. "My father will need me back as I'm to assume my roles. He's still grooming me as lord."

Ned nodded. "I am to assume a new role as of soon," He tells him. "I will be leaving for King's Landing to assume the position as Hand of the King. While I'm away, I already trust with all my heart you'll take care of my Ismene. She is safe. As for my heir... I can't say the same. If a problem should arise for Darik, stand with him. Will you do that for me?"

As much as Lukas wanted to say no, he knew he couldn't. Darik would be his liege lord once he officially rose to the position and he knew he'd dread the day if they still played their game of hate. No matter what he would bow to Darik eventually and that made his blood boil.

"I will," Lukas promises even though he felt it half heartedly. "This is my family as well and I will stand with it."

Ned's expression was relieved. He feels very pleased to know that he found someone who would truly stand for his family should any problems arise. He didn't think anything would, but he wanted to establish a basis for when he was in the south. Once the North was beyond his reach, he knew Winterfell and his House could be vulnerable. He was leaving it all in Darik's hands now.

"I'm glad to see how loyal you are," Ned smiles. "If only there were more men like you, Lukas. The North— the country could use more like you. I know that we are not very close, but I am proud of you. I chose wisely when I gave you my daughter."

With a pat to the back, Ned wandered away from Lukas and disappeared down the hall. With the kind words still replaying in his mind, the heir felt a little more of the weight lift off of his chest.

❆

THE last time Ismene had been in the Godswood, she and Darik had made up from their spell of contempt. Being with him there again only allowed room for growth, which she was willing to take after they'd finally mended what had broken.

Of course, Bran's accident didn't help, not with the worry it caused in all of them. Though, the twins had used the opportunity to further mend what had been broken and they found that the escape from most of their pain was in each other.

As the two sat next to each other on the stone bench under the Weirwood, Ismene felt like she did in old times. Times when they were children, running through the forest and laughing and playing. Times when they would share secrets and stories. She loved her other half with all of her being and she would declare it to the world.

"Have you considered names?" Darik asks her as her head rests against his shoulder. She smirks at the mention of her child, especially it being Darik who spoke of it. She had truly dreaded when he'd been angered over her pregnancy but now he seemed as if he only wanted to dote over his future niece or nephew.

"I've considered a few," she smirks. "But I'm not going to tell you. It's a surprise."

Darik chuckles. "Will I have to wait until the birth to find out then? I would much rather be able to prepare the gift in advance. Names hold personalities, y'know."

She laughs lightly as her hand drifts to her belly. It didn't show unless her midriff was bare, but she somehow knew it would be visible sooner rather than later. She had a hunch.

"You will be their favorite uncle no matter what," she promises. "I don't think Robb or Bran care too much, and Rickon being too small. I suppose Jon would want to meet them, but with him going to the Wall I don't think we'll be seeing much of him anymore."

It was true, Ismene would miss her half brother. She truly cared for him and it sorrowed her to see him sell himself off to the Night's Watch. The thought of their bond being almost severed hurt her deeply. It was his life, though, and there wasn't much else he could do. She had considered asking him to join the house guard at Lakewell, but she knew he belonged to something higher.

"I suppose I will be, then," Darik seems pleased at the thought. "I like the sound of Uncle Darik, don't you?"

Ismene nods as she smiles. "Perhaps one day I'll be Aunt Ismene, if you manage to snag a particular archer."

"I'm trying my best," he says playfully in his defense as he runs a hand through his dusty brown hair.

Ismene can only think of the prophecy.

The Archer will fight valiantly but the Wolf will be unable to defend.

"You two will be wonderful together," she says, not betraying the uneasiness she felt inside.

Darik nods, obviously thinking about the Mandal heir he cared so much for.

"I will miss you once you're gone," he murmurs, changing the subject.

"I will be back soon enough," she promises. "To present a little niece or nephew to their favorite uncle."

❆

EVOLET peppered Robb's face with kisses as she lied on top of him next to the blazing fire they'd been tending to all night and morning. Evolet didn't hold much care if anyone wondered where they might be or what they might be doing. If only they knew what a night, or better, nights, the two had spent together, they'd understand. She was free to do as she wanted, as Lukas didn't know and Ismene didn't care. That allowed the Estemore girl to finally fill the emptiness she'd bared for over a moon. The fortnight she'd spent with Robb was something out of a tale.

"My little fox is eager, I see," Robb hummed as he held her.

She smirked before biting her lip the same way she knew drove him crazy. "I must be, as I'll be leaving as of soon and I don't know when I will see you again."

"Soon," he seemed to promise her. "I've already spoken to my fathers about our engagement."

Robb knew it was a lie.

Evolet grinned wildly as she then pressed her lips against his. They both sank into the kiss, letting out pleasured moans before pulling apart once more. The girl was overtaken by sheer emotion, wanting to express in the way she'd withheld for so long.

"I love you."

Robb was silent.

Evolet felt a tinge of worry form in her chest as she saw his Tully blue eyes look away from her. Why wasn't he saying it back? Did she upset him? What was wrong?

There was a long pause before he sighed.

"Evolet."

She knew in that moment that he didn't love her back. The man, no, the boy, she'd given herself to seemed to have only ever wanted her for what she could do to please him. How could she had been so foolish? So foolish as to think he could love her back for merely being her.

Mother was right, the wounded girl thought to herself. The Starks seem to be a selfish breed.

She shoved herself off of his chest, her lithe, bare body feeling the heat from the fire as she crossed the room to retrieve her clothing. She couldn't bare to look at him where he lied, those blue eyes she loved trained on her.

"Evolet, please."

"I don't want to hear it," she snapped, the pain evident in her cracked tone. Tears were already beginning to form.

"You can't just leave like this. We have something here. I don't want to give you up."

After she'd quickly pulled the garment over her body and turned to face him. Her deep brown eyes held a mixture of resentment and pain.

"You don't want to give up what I can offer you," she mutters lowly. "Perhaps anyone who spreads their legs for you could make you happy for the time being. I'm sure. But it's evident love is not something in your vocabulary."

Robb was sitting up now, looking to her with a hurt expression. Despite feeling as if she still loved him, Evolet couldn't look at him any longer.

"You must know that my future is not in my control," he states mattarfactly. "I cannot choose who I marry."

Evolet flared with rage, yet she didn't display it.  Of course he had lied about their betrothal. No, she wouldn't be the one to carry on the pain. She would be dealing with enough once she returned home to the place that only ever made her feel alone. The place that felt like a prison.

She scowls. "If you truly want something," she says lowly, feeling the pain of the truth she spoke of hitting her deep down. Securing her dress onto her body, she fixed her hair enough that questions wouldn't arise. "You'll get it. I'm proof enough."

Without another word, the Estemore girl fled from the room. Just outside the door sat Greywind, the beast she'd grown to love, that she'd imagined protecting their children in the future. The thought of all of her broken dreams were too overwhelming as she disappeared at the end of the hall.

❆

THE last night in Winterfell that Ismene and Lukas lied next to each other was peaceful. It seemed that, in each other's arms, under the furs, nothing could reach them. Not their worries, not their fears. With her head lying on his chest, Lukas loved to keep his hand on her ever swelling belly that held his child.

They often enjoyed listening to the fire crackle a cross the room, offering a warming glow that danced on the walls and often lulled them asleep. Fenrir liked to sleep on the floor next to her side of the bed, where he would rest his big furry head on his large paws. Sometimes, his dreaming whimpers could be heard.

"Ismene," Lukas speaks up, his voice raspy after having not talked for a while.

She looks up to him, seeing his stormy eyes were trained on her in a sleepy thoughtful way. The father of her child was so handsome, so kind and so gentle. Even as she looked up at him, feeling pride swell inside her over the fact she'd married someone such as he, she felt utter bliss. As she gazed up at him, his next words take her thoughts straight from her mind.

"I think I love you."