┏━ tribulation.
( SCENE 5 ) ━┛

THE night was surprisingly warm that they were going to attack and Lukas sucked in a breath as Ismene clung to him. In her arms was Damon and Rowan, who Lukas planted a gentle kiss on each of their soft little foreheads. Ismene was obviously in distress, looking up to her husband with already reddening eyes.

"You come back to me," she states through her teeth. "You will."

Lukas tries to offer a joke to lighten the dark mood. He smiles. "Is that a promise, or a threat?"

Ismene, despite being pained to be seeing her husband off to battle, cracks a weak grin. She pulls the twins up into a tighter grip in her arms. "It's both. Now, go win a battle."

Lukas watches her walk away, toward Darik. The two held each other in an embrace for a long while and Lukas' grin faded as he watched. Looking away, Lukas mounted his horse that was being held by an Estemore soldier. He was handed his sword and a shield with the familiar fox and salmon on the front.

"Jaime does not know," Darik spoke up loud enough for all his army to hear. Lukas listens intently from his horse a few feet away. "I'll stake my life on that. No bird has reached him, the Mandal archers have seen to that. We've seen a few of his outriders, but those that saw us did not live to tell of it. He ought to have sent out more. He does not know."

"The Kingslayer has us at three to one," his father tells the crowd for Darik. "With such odds, this battle with be simple."

"True enough," Darik nods, "Yet there is one thing Ser Jaime lacks." There was a pause as Lukas watches as a smirk appears on Darik's lips. "Patience."

Soon, Darik gave the lord's a nod before whipping his reins and beginning to lead the host toward the Whispering Woods, where Jaime Lannister and his tiny force were unknowingly waiting to be crushed.

It didn't take long for them get there. As they broke from the trees with Darik leading the army of 18,000 strong northern men toward the proudly hanging banners of the Lannister lion, the Kingslayer wasn't suspecting them.

Lukas had never been in true combat before. Nothing with true carnage, blood, and bodies scattered about. He could only think that perhaps he may never see Ismene again, nor his sons in the small chance that he would be a casualty. Darik had just informed them all, though, that Jaime's forces were far less prepared and outnumbered. Death was as simple as being pierced in the right area of ones belly and the thought terrified him. Though, it gave him a little comfort knowing that the fighting wouldn't be as hard fought, but it still made him uneasy as the northern army melded from the tree line and out into the little valley that held Jaime Lannister's forces.

Clad in a heavy steel breastplate emblazoned with the Estemore fox and salmon, he felt more comfort in knowing his long sleeved wool padding covered an entire shirt of chainmail. He prayed that no blade would be able to pierce the armor, and he prayed for much more as soon as the Lannister forces caught site of the advancing northerners.

Mounted on his horse next to Aubrey, his heart pounded. Even with Fenrir standing at his side, the massive dire wolf nearing the size of his horse, he was worried. When he looked over to her, she looked ahead with fearless anticipation. She looked like a true warrior, he thought, fearless and clad in her own breast plate and padding of Mandal green armor and her blonde locks flowing in the cool breeze. She caught his eye, offering a reassuring nod.

The northern forces broke through the tree line and onto the unprepared Lannister men with force. Spurring his horse, the steed launched into a gallop, the entire line of northern forces moving as a giant mass. Lukas leaned forward in his saddle, hearing the howling of the wind at it blew passed his ears and blasted his face.

When their forces got close enough, Lukas hopped from his horse, his shielded arm lifted up to deflect the blow of an oncoming Lannister soldiers.

He remembered the movements and swipes he'd been taught when he was younger by Ser Wendall, who's stayed behind in Lakewell to hep his mother manage the Keep. Dodge what you couldn't deflect. Advance when they were vulnerable. Uppercut when they over swung. He did just that, swiping the blade that had previously felt heavy up into the mans gut. It felt light now as the adrenaline coursed through his veins and his heart pounded in his ears. Warm blood spattered on his breast plate, some getting on his hands and his face. He was unable to wipe it off before another soldier was on him.

As the sun was just barely beginning to rise, Lukas cut down six men when he finally spotted him: the Kingslayer. He'd only ever caught glimpses of the Lannister Kingsguard when they'd been in Winterfell all those months ago, but as Lukas looked at the man who caused so much trouble with his family amid all the carnage, he he felt compelled to capture him. He was the entire objective, after all.

Lukas hadn't expected to be the one fighting the Lannister lion, as he had thought it'd be Darik, the lead of their host. But as he maneuvered his way through the battling, toward the Lion that had been fending off Northern men left and right in a frantic display, Lukas wanted to be the one to capture him. He wanted to drag the rumored sister-fucker to Darik and throw him to his feet.

Leaving Fenrir to fend off any Lannister soldiers who might try to cut him down while he dealt with the Kingslayer, he stomped over. Jaime soon swung around, his narrowed green eyes shadowed by his furrowed, angry brow. His jaw was clenched as he glared at Lukas, looking as if he would cut the heir down without a second thought.

"How thoughtful of you," Jaime utters as the two begin circling each other. "Attacking the smaller force. Quite smart, actually."

Lukas decided a shield would not be what helped him defeat the Kingslayer; it would be speed. He ripped away the shield and through it to the now muddy ground.

"I do have a good liege," Lukas mutters a reply. He knows Jaime could lunge at any moment, and being the older swordsman, Lukas knew he'd have to be quick. "But I suppose a hostage will do well helping us too. Though, it seems like you Lannisters figured that out sooner. I'd say you and you're sister are pretty close, right?"

Jaime let out a maniacal laugh, one full of anger. "You northerners are so pesky," the lion grins evilly. "Never knowing when to stay in your shitholds and warn of a coming winter. My, a sigil with a fox and salmon? Your house must hold much power for I've never heard it."

Suddenly, he launches toward Lukas. The heir manages to deflect the blow that could have potentially killed him, hopping back and clutching the blade with both hands. He then returns it with his own advances, the blade feeling right in his hand as he swung and deflected the older mans blows. He had to admit to himself that Jaime was in fact a fantastic swordsman, one that could have bested him in a better day. He had many instances where he would have easily killed Lukas but the heir seemed to be quicker with his lighter armor and youthful strength.

"You'll know my House soon enough," Lukas growls as he deflects a blow. "For such a notorious swordsman, you'd think someone with such a background as you would be able to fend off a young man," Lukas jabs as they continue to swing. "Is the lion becoming lame after fucking his sister too much?"

The words seem to flare Jaime's anger as his swings get harder. Lukas begins to fear he won't be able to keep him off long enough, with his quick and battering hits becoming jarring to Lukas as the vibrations made his hands begin to ache. Their clashing rings in Lukas' ears and he wished he could end it already. Jaime's fit didn't seem like it was ending any time soon and his muscles were growing weary.

He's still worried as he clashes with the lion, up until Jaime over swings in his fit of anger and Lukas sees an opportunity. With his knuckles bare and not necessary in his survival as a prisoner, the heir swipes at the lion's hand, causing him to howl in pain as his knuckles are struck and the sword flies from his hand.

Jaime crumbles to the ground, his green eyes glaring up at Lukas, who had his blade shoved in the lions face. He clutched his now bloodied hand. By now, the battling had began to wane as the Lannisters forces had quickly been defeated. Fenrir loped up to Lukas' side, pulling back his blood stained jowls to expose the fangs they had previously been ripping the throats from Jaime's men.

Not long after, Lukas dragged Jaime all the way a crossed the ground littered with his own men and to the feet of Darik. He threw the lion to the mud, earning the surprised looks of all those around, including Darik.

"The Kingslayer, as you've requested, Lord Stark," Lukas says with a hollow voice. As much as he didn't want to directly talk to Darik, he wanted to present Jaime and leave the scene of carnage as soon as possible.

The lion looked up to Darik with contempt. "Lord Stark," he utters from his knees. Blood ran down one cheek from a gash across his scalp, but the pale light of dawn had put the glint of gold back in his hair. "What a pleasure."

"Jaime Lannister," Darik feigned a greeting. From beside him, Luna gives a growl. "What a pleasure this is, indeed."

❆

EVOLET hadn't been to Cotherstone in years and when she'd received a letter from her uncle Darren inviting her to a small feast for Enith's Nameday, she forced herself to swallow her pride and accept. Despite being ashamed of her current condition, her uncle had always been an understanding man, far more understanding than her own father. There were times that she envied Aubrey and Enith for having a father like Darren, one so kind and understanding.

The Stark guard that had been sent with her stood in the near distance, keeping watch over her. She'd been shocked when she'd learned that it had been Robb who had ordered it so. She'd previously believed he despised her.

The soon-to-be mother was bulging, and with such a bulge, she gained many glances of those in attendance of the feast. Most were ladies and children of the lords who were off warring with Darik, and the elder lords who were unable to join. It was nothing like she would have wished for her dear cousin, but she knew Enith was a girl who was eagerly pleased. Evolet hoped she would be with the gifted she'd had crafted just a few days before back in Winterfell.

The Estemore sipped at a chalice of water, her go-to beverage considering she carried a child within her. She would have much rather been tipsy if she were forced to be around the prying eyes of those who judged her for her condition, yet she was trying to teach herself how to ignore it all. It wasn't easy.

The sound of opening doors has her turning to see Darren and Enith entering, the young girl looking as if she'd gained a few years by having her blonde locks fashioned so beautifully. She wore a beautiful gown as well and Evolet grinned to herself as she made her way over.

When the young Mandal caught site of her, the two met in a slightly awkward embrace due to her belt before pulling apart.

"I didn't think you would come!" Enith exclaimed happily.

"Are you kidding? I wouldn't miss your Name Day for anything," Evolet bummed happily. She looked to her uncle, whom she flashed a smile at before he wandered away to speak with those who were in attendance.

"When are you going to have the baby?" Evolet's cousin asked with an excited expression as she rocked on her heels. She looked so pleased to know she'd have another cousin soon enough. The support made Evolet's nerves ease.

Evolet sighed, lifting one hand to run over the fabric covering the area her babe constantly kicked. "Hopefully soon," she replied, "I'm not sure how long I can handle this. I must admit that I thought a pregnancy would be different."

"How so?"Enith chirped intuitively.

"Well for instance, I didn't think I would hate the foods I once loved. They make me so sick that I spend the day expelling them into a bucket." Evolet chuckled.

Enith wrinkled her nose in disgust. "That sounds...pleasant."

Evolet hummed. "Extremely."

"I hope it's a girl."

Evolet smirked. "Do you now? Rickon wants me to have boy. That little one has clung to my skirts since the moment I entered Winterfell."

"She will be fierce and loyal and beautiful," Enith declares, referring to the babe growing in Evolet. "She does have some Mandal blood in her, afterall."

Not much time passed before Enith took a seat to unveil the gifts that the other nobles had so kindly brought for her despite the shortage of such things during war. Evolet beamed when she saw Enith open the box that contained the pendant she'd had the black smith craft for her. Her cousin was so pleased that Evolet felt relief wash over her for the first time in a while.

"An arrowhead," Evolet smirked as she watched her cousin gaze upon the pendant, "I thought it suited you."

"It's perfect," Enith smiled, wrapping her in a quick hug. "Thank you, Evolet."

"You're welcome," Evolet said. She then took the pendant and placed it over her head so the arrowhead could rest against her shirt. "Beautiful as always."

Just when Evolet thought she'd gifted her cousin with the best gift, she was sorely mistaken once her uncle Darren appeared with a bow in hand, most likely from Aubrey she assumed. Enith hazed upon it with hungry as she ran her fingers along the pommel and woodwork.

"It's..." Enith was breathless. "It's beautiful. Father, thank you!" She passed the boy to Evolet who barely had time to take it before the young girl leapt from the bench to hug her father. Evolet watched with a warm smile.

"Don't thank me," he said as he patted her back. "It's a gift from Aubrey. She was hoping to give it to you herself, but given the circumstances I didn't think you should have to wait."

Evolet felt her heart warmed at such site. She was blessed to have family that was so close, even if it didn't include her mother or father. She was thankful beyond measure.

❆

WHEN they arrived back to camp, Lukas felt different. Different in the sense that he'd been in a life threatening situation and lived, now able to tell his wife all about. He wasn't quite sure if Ismene would want to here about how close he been to having his head lopped off by Jaime Lannister, though.

After Ismene had greeted Darik, she made her way over to Lukas and pulled him into an embrace. She looked far less worried, pleased to have her husband in one piece.

"So, it was a promise I see?" Lukas jokes with her as she grins and kisses him. As they pull apart, her caresses her cheek.

"You're back and safe. That's all that matters to me," she smiles. They're attention is turned toward Darik, who now had Jaime sitting on his knees once again. The lord's surrounding him flared down in distaste.

"By the time they knew what was happening, it had already happened," Darik told Lady Catelyn.

Lannister raised his head, which was dirty after having battled Lukas. "Lady Stark," he said from his knees. "I would offer you my sword, but I seem to have mislaid it."

"It is not your sword I want, ser," she replies curtly to him. "Give me my daughters. Give me my lord husband."

"I have mislaid them as well, I fear."

"A pity," Catelyn said coldly.

"Kill him, Darik. Send his head to his father. He cut down a dozen of our men. He killed Lord Rutherford. You saw him," Theon all but whispers encouragingly into Darik's ear.

"You kill the sister-fucker, and they kill Lord Eddard, maybe even Sansa, Kaela and Arya too," Aubrey retorts to Theon's suggestion. Jaime sighs at the name he calls her and even shoots the Mandal heir a dirty look, but she simply returns it with a smirk.

"Aubrey's right," Ismene agrees at Lukas' side. "He's more use to us alive than dead."

"Put him in irons," Darik orders. "Let him sit in his own shit."

"We could end this war right now, boy, save thousands of lives. You fight for the Starks, I fight for the Lannisters. Swords or lances, teeth, nails ─ choose your weapons and let's end this here and now."

Lukas knew that wouldn't happen. If they ended their qualms then and there, the sacrifice they'd made with the two thousand men would have been for nought.

Darik shook his head. "If we do it your way, Kingslayer ─ you'd win even when I end your pathetic life. We're not doing it your way. Find a place for our prisoner that is far from the babes within camp."

"Yes, my lord," utters Greatjon Umber, who marches forward and grips Jaime's arm, pulling him to his feet. "Come on, pretty man."

"I would make certain there's a strong guard around him," Aubrey pipes up. "Lord Karstark will want his head on a pike."

"Keep strong guards on him, day and night," Darik orders as Jaime is yankee to his feet by Stark men and lead away.

Ismene wraps her arm with Lukas' and offers a warm smile. "Perhaps you'd like to rest now, dear?" She asks. "I'll have my hand maiden clean up that mess on your breast plate as well."

Lukas, thankful for his kind and gentle wife, nods. A day of rest seemed perfect for him.

❆

IT had only been a few hours since returning from Cotherstone that Evolet was stumbling a crossed her room and toward the chamber door. She hissed and cried at the pain that began to pulse within her, like a white hot iron was stabbed into her belly and lower region. She managed to yank the door open, before stumbling into the dimly lit hall. Luckily, there was a Stark guard making his way down the hall.

"Get— the Maester," she managed to utter as she winced. "My babe— it's coming."

The man, understanding the urgency, took off down the hall. Evolet's teeth were grinding as she stumbled back into the chambers and managed to flop onto the bed. Amidst her spasms pain, Maester Luwin had appeared, looking as if he'd been ripped from his bed. Lucky, he had brought along his medical utensils.

"Oh, my child," the Maester exclaimed as she cried out in agonizing pain. He immediately got to work, putting pillows behind her head and helping position her correctly so that he could properly receive the babe once it arrived. Once her legs were up and her lower half covered by the furs, he coached. "Alright, my dear, I'm going to need you to push. I know it will hurt worse than anything you've experienced, but you must keep going."

Evolet cried real tears, ones that streamed down her cheeks and tasted salty when they reached her lips. Of the hours that it took for the child to be delivered, Evolet thought she was going to die. She gripped the furs and felt as if she were going to slip away in that moment, bringing her child into the world with a few final pushes. The pain became unbearable at points, where her visions turned white and she almost was lost to oblivion. The entire process carried on for what felt like eons, until a defining cry pulled her back to reality.

In the Maester's hands was a small, brown haired baby girl, squalling and pink. After properly taking care of her, he was placing the babe onto her chest. She cried, not because of sorrow or pain, but because of joy.

"Do you know what you will name her?" The Maester asked.

She looked down on the babe, so small and sweet, that she reminded her of a young girl she once knew from Long Lake Village. She had been so kind to Evolet in the short time she knew her and she had cherished the memories.

"She will be called Laila," she smiles tiredly.