┏━ tribulation.
( SCENE 9 ) ━┛

LUKAS' heart pounded in his chest while his stomach rolled and turned in a horrible way. He felt nearly dizzy with rage and fear, all while trying to contain himself for the mere fact that he needed to deliver devastating news to Darik, now. It seemed as if Theon Greyjoy had adopted new ideals of what it meant to approach his father for aid in the war, for he'd abandoned them in the effort to provide ships to Darik and turn toward the undefended north, which they were plucking one after another. Not only was their invasion problematic, but even graver news had been scribbled onto a raven scroll by Winterfell's Maester Luwin.

After Theon had taken Winterfell, he'd brutally murdered Ser Rodrik in cold blood and, if the news were true, Bran and Rickon as well. In the letter Maester Luwin had seemingly scribbled in a rush, they'd been hung and burned. Lukas fumed at the seems, thinking of how he would horribly dispatch of the craven bastard himself if he got the opportunity to do so, yet knew Darik would want him for himself and rightfully so.

Luckily, he hadn't received any news of the confirmed deaths of Evolet or his niece, but the fear still remained. He hoped that Robb would be able to protect them, but without men, he doubted it. He knew as well that his niece had been legitimized into a Stark, which worried him further. Theon already murdered Bran and Rickon for being Stark's, who was to say he wouldn't go after her as well?

He walked at such a fast pace through the camp that men parted out of his way, they all watching him long after he passed. As he arrived to the main tent where he would find Darik, he halted his eyes landed on Catelyn Stark, who had returned from the Stormlands after a failed attempt at an alliance with Renly Baratheon. Behind her was a tall, blond woman donning armor as if she were the Lady's guard. Other lords were present in the tent as well, carrying on their own conversations. Lady Catelyn and her guard'a attention turned to him, along with Darik. She smiled at him slightly, not appearing to be in the best of spirits herself but offered kindness all the same. Lukas cursed himself for having to deliver the information he had in his hand.

"Lukas," Catelyn greets as she makes her way over to embrace him.

"Lady Catelyn," he weakly greets, accepting the embrace despite feeling as if he were going insane with the information at the tip of his tongue as they pulled apart. He wanted to delay it, but knew it would be cruel. He looks to Darik, once again regretting being the barrer of bad news. "A raven. . .from Winterfell."

Darik looks to the scroll in Lukas' hand, eyeing it strangely considering it was open. More than likely, he knew it bared grim news, for Darik knew Lukas well and he never came breathless and red faced in a delivery of a raven scroll. He takes it, his stormy eyes scanning the words until he has taken in all of the information. His grim expression had turned ominously still with rage as he looked to his mother.

"Darik?" She asked, her tone betraying she knew something had happened. "Darik, tell what it is?"

He throws the scroll to the table at his side in a display of defeat. "Theon has betrayed us," he uttered between words that were barely held together from turning into sobs. His jaw clenched as he spoke. "Bran and Rickon. They're dead."

Catelyn grew strangely still and in that moment Lukas wished he could disappear. He cared for his good-mother, but he was scared to see the ugly grief she was about to display.

"No," she muttered in denial. "No, no, that's not right," she rushed forward to snatch the scroll. Her eyes scanned the words as her expression turned to agony.

"Lady Brienne, would you please care for my mother for the time being," Darik as the tall woman.

"Of course, Your Grace," Brienne obeyed as she went to pull the now sobbing Catelyn into her arms. She began to usher the older woman out of the tent, her horrified sobs already heard echoing through the camp. They were painful for Lukas to hear. He knew it wasn't over yet, for he still had to inform Ismene.

His attention turns back to Darik, who has called the attention of the lords to the table. Lukas finds his spot at Darik's side, where his is still shaking with rage. He hoped that a plan would be devised to exterminate the Ironborn then and there.

"Theon Greyjoy has betrayed us," Darik spoke up for the lords. "Instead of going to his father for aid with ships, he instead has apparently vowed his fealty. He now has made a conquest for the north. Winterfell has been captured. My brothers Bran and Rickon, dead."

The lords erupted into outage, shouting profanity's toward the Greyjoy's and for the untimely deaths of the innocent boys. Lukas wants to disappear, to fall asleep for the day but he knows the situation at hand must be dealt with.

"For this," Darik uttered dangerously. "I'll march the host north and retake Winterfell. And then, I'll destroy the Iron Islands so that there is nothing left."

"That would not be wise, Your Grace," Roose Bolton spoke up from where he stood a crossed the table. Emotionless as ever, the older man's mind never seemed to go untrained from the war in front of them."Repelling the invasion would allow the Lannister to catch us at the tail as we fled. We'd be decimated."

"He isn't wrong," Daulton Ryswell agreed with Lord Bolton "We could march home after all we've done, after the all men who had died already. They'd be fighting for nothing."

"We've yet to lose against the Lannister's," Henrik Estemore spoke up. "Our campaign has already triumphed so far, doubling back north would only mean it was for not."

"There are still men left in the north," Roose Bolton went on. "Let me write to my bastard, Ramsey, at the Dreadfort. Perhaps he could rally the troops and take back Winterfell and extinguish the Ironborn invasion. We would be able to continue our campaign and your brothers could be avenged."

Lukas saw no better option for them, for marching back north was out of the question. Bran and Rickon's deaths could not go without vengeance, he knew, for neither Catelyn nor Darik would allow such thing.

"Write to your bastard," Darik finally conceded to the plan. "But I want him captured alive. I want to be able to look him in the eyes and ask him why he would do this before I behead him myself."

Roose Bolton nodded obediently. "At once, Your Grace. My son will perform well."

The lords broke apart after the decision was made final, Darik leaving the tent to most likely tell Aubrey of the news or comfort his mother. Lukas had watched him leave, sympathy aching in his heart.

"Was there no news of Evolet or my granddaughter?" Lukas' father asked at his side. He'd stayed as the other lords had left.

"I'm afraid not," he sighed. "But if Theon would have done anything, it would have been in the letter. All we can do is believe that they remain alive."

His fathers expression was hard as stone and even colder. "Your sister has made mistakes, and there has been tension between us all," his father elaborated. "But she is my daughter I still love her despite everything. I guard my family fiercely and if this Greyjoy has harmed either of them," Henrik uttered icily calm. "He will need to pray to whatever god will listen to him. Once I have a grasp, there will be nothing of him left to bury."

Lukas watched his father turn heel and leave the tent, feeling a sense of calm wash over him after learning that his rage went just as deep as his fathers and if he knew anything, Henrik Estemore rarely knew what mercy was.