┏━ tribulation.
( SCENE 1 ) ━┛

NINE moons passed since they declared their love. It had been such a defining moment in their marriage and they had easily found themselves wrapped up in each other's arms, sharing sweet kisses every night. The thought of that blissful night was not enough to shield the pain that coursed through Ismene's body, forcing gasps and shrieks from her lungs every few moments as she was consumed by the white hot pain that filled her lower half.

Her first birth was proving to be a difficult one. Even as she held Lukas' hand, where he sat at the side of the bed with an anxious and worried expression on his features, there was no telling what would become of his wife. After hours of pushing, this was the first sign that he'd finally see his newborn. His heir. He didn't care if it was a boy or a girl, it was an entirely perfect human created by solely he and the one the loved. The thought that a new person, someone he helped create, was about to enter the world was almost surreal.

"M'lord, there seems to be a complication," one of the midwives came to whisper in his ear. "The babes seem to be turned. Without us turning them, they won't come out."

Babes.

"There are two?" he utters lowly, the urgency within him seeming to grow stronger while his eyes widened. The birth of twins could be enough to kill Ismene if the right course of action wasn't take . "Quickly, do what you must. Lady Ismene will understand."

He knew that his wife would die for their children. Of course, that was the absolutely last thing he could ever want to happen, but he knew it the truth. It was a known thing that just about any mother would. Therefore, the more dire measures were to be taken.

Soon, a midwife began to press from the sides of Ismene's large belly, causing the woman to screech even louder than she had before. She didn't protest as she endured the pain, the pain that would bring her child into the world. Even when her vision began to blot and for a moment she felt herself slipping.

"Ismene, my love," Lukas said urgently while trying to coax her toward consciousness again. He was pained by her screams but he knew it had to be done. "You have to stay with us. They are nearly here."

What little bit of her conscious was left heard it.

Them.

Returning to the fight, she immediately gave one definite push that seemed like it might kill her until a tiny, pitiful cry broke the air. What pain she was still feeling from the second babe that was still within her seemed to melt away as a midwife lifted the newborn up into her field of vision. It was a boy, a beautiful and healthy and strong boy. Her heir. Even though he was pink and squalling she thought he was the most beautiful thing she'd ever lied her eyes upon.

"It's Damon," Ismene states immediately, breathless. The babe seemed large for a newborn, but when she saw the dusty brown curls covering his little head and familiar grey eyes that peered through squinted lids, she was able to crack a weak but pleased smile despite the second wave of pain the followed. He looked just like Darik. Damon was her wolf.

"M'lady, you'll need to push a little longer," the midwife coached between her legs. Damon was lifted up and away in a blanket so that there was ample room for the second babe to come. Ismene nodded, feeling as if she was growing numb to the pain which was almost a blessing.

Even as Lukas held her hand, he was unable to tear his eyes away from the midwife that held Damon. The babe was so strong and beautiful and he couldn't believe the Gods had already blessed him with a male heir. Though, he had to admit that his own son look somewhat like someone else he knew.

Not long after, another babe appeared. Ismene was able to relax then despite feeling the pain after such strenuous activity. Her body aches horribly and she thought she could pass out, but she endured. The midwife who had been between her legs lifted the babe up.

"M'lady, it is another boy."

Ismene looked to Lukas then, giving him a look as if to offer the chance to name the babe himself. The heir looked to his second son, seeing he had the same chocolate curls he possessed covering the babes head. He was somewhat smaller than Damon, but still looked strong. When his lids opened, Lukas saw the same green eyes his mother possessed. Rowan was his fox.

"Rowan," Lukas decides. It was true that men didn't usually dwell upon the names they wished to place upon their child, as that was normally left for the woman, but Lukas had and what few he'd been able to come up with, Rowan seemed to fit his second born son the best.

After the newborns were promptly cleaned, Ismene is given both of her sons where she precedes to nurse them. Even as Lukas sat next to his wife, seeing her exhausted and covered in perspiration, Lukas thought she looked as beautiful and strong as ever and felt his soul at peace for the first time in a while. Of course, it wouldn't last long. They were never that lucky.

❆

TERRAN Bayle walked down the darkened hall with a solemn expression. The only noise that had filled the keep that morning had been Lady Ismene's agonized cries, ones that pained any to hear. Now, as it was silent, the clinking of his armor and hollow noise of his boots assumed. It was evident that the heir had finally been born, but no one had left the room to alert Lord Henrik or Lady Helen.

In the man's hand was a letter that had just arrived, bearing the familiar Stark sigil in crimson wax. He hadn't taken a second thought to a letter arriving from Winterfell until the messenger explained the urgency of the contents. He wondered why a raven wasn't sent instead, but he assumed that the news was much more dire than sending a raven.

"Deliver this to Lady Ismene's hands immediately," the messenger had urged him before taking off on horse. With those ominous words, Terran had made haste toward the room where Ismene had been most of the day. Once arriving, he knocked on the door. Moments later, Lukas appeared, seeming to be in the highest of spirits.

"Terran," the heir greets as he opens the door more widely. "Come in."

The guard does, still gripping the letter in hand. He sees Ismene propped against the headboard of the bed, looking tired but triumphant. Next to the bed were two bassinets, which caused the guard to raise a brow of confusion at the woman.

"We were blessed with an unexpected second child," she smiles warmly at the guard who had grown to be her friend. He was looking over the edge of the bassinets to view the newborns. Sitting in between them both is the massive Fenrir who seems out of place, seemingly dwarfing the room by just his size. He looked as if he were nearly the size of a small pony now.

"Two sons," Lukas spoke up with a grin. "It seems the Gods are pleased with us."

In that moment, Terran feels guilty for having to deliver troubling news to the new parents, whatever it might be. He didn't know how dire it was but he could only hope that it wasn't as bad as he thought. He lifts the letter up, which Lukas then takes it. Terran allowed him to read it to his wife. After breaking the seal, the heir begins reading the letter aloud.

"Dearest sister," Lukas begins, voicing none other than Darik's own words. "Tragedy has befallen our family. Our father has been seized in the capital under the order of the Lannister's and our sisters are being held prisoner. I am calling the banners. We will not go quietly after such an act of betrayal, which will be met with war. I do hope that you'll be able to accompany me in our revenge. I also am eagerly awaiting to hear about my niece or nephew. I hope to see you soon," his voice is somewhat shaky. "Signed, Lord Darik Stark."

The three in the room were left in utter disbelief. Terran was speechless, Lukas infuriated, and Ismene holding a blank expression that was entirely unreadable. Eddard Stark was seized. Arya, Kaela and Sansa were being held prisoner. Darik was lord now, officially Lord Stark as long as their father was locked away.

"What do we do?" Terran uttered with concerned blue eyes looking between the nobles.

Lukas looked as if he were going to punch a wall as he paced. "I'll go speak with my father. We'll gather an army to support Darik," he promised Ismene. "I'll also announce Damon and Rowan. It's a shame we cannot even enjoy their births before something like this happens."

With that, Lukas leaves the room.

❆

LADY Helen came not long later, surprisingly showing interest in her sons wife for the first time in over a year. She'd done good in avoiding her daughter-in-law, it seemed, as Ismene almost never saw her. It was a blessing in disguise, the girl would admit.

The former Mandal entered the room with hungry green eyes, ones she shared with one of her newborn grandsons. Of course Helen wanted to see her grandchildren. Though she didn't particular care for her sons wife, she was pleased to see another member of her own blood enter the world. Even if they were part Stark, they were part Mandal as well. That was all that mattered to her.

"There were two," Helen stated as she neared the bassinets. Fenrir growled lowly in the defense of the little beings he'd immediately taken to, his golden eyes trained on the black haired woman. The beast that she had failed to prevent coming to Lakewell was luckily ordered away by Ismene.

"Fenrir, here," Ismene ordered hoarsely. Helen watched as the wolf stalked away, her catlike gaze following him until he was a safe distance away from her. She then looked toward her slumbering grandchildren who were already proving to be heavy sleepers.

"They are strong," the older woman notes, though it isn't necessarily a complement toward Ismene. Helen looked down on the larger of the two, seeing pale brown wisp of hair covering the babe's tiny head. The other had dark wisps much like hers. "What are their names?"

Ismene clears her throat. She didn't care to talk to Helen. "The larger one is Damon. The other is Rowan."

Helen nods her head expectantly as she gazes down on them. Of course it wasn't wise to wake the two sleeping babes, so it left no reason for her to stay. Ismene would have preferred if she left.

"You've done a fine job," Helen begrudgingly admits despite it seeming as if it were against her nature. She'd waited years for one of her children to give her grandchildren and the time had finally come. "Well done."

"Thank you," Ismene says blandly. She was angry, wanting to know why she never saw Helen in the Keep except during supper. She never asked to be in her presence as Evolet did. It was as if she lived with a stranger. She continues, her tone sharp. "Can you tell me why you've chosen to visit me for the first time when my sons are born?"

Helen's eyes narrowed as she looked up from her grandson's and focused on Ismene. Her thin lips pursed. "These are my grandsons. They give me a reason to visit this side of the Keep. Otherwise, I don't have a reason."

"Is it because I'm a Stark, then?" Ismene asks distastefully, wishing that Helen would disappear and leave her with her sons. "I am your daughter by law. I've done nothing but give you grandsons and love your son yet you still despise me?"

Helen's features faultetef into an rolled her green eyes. "You are a Stark. That is enough for me to resent you. You know nothing of the past. You're but a green girl that needs to learn her place in this world."

"A green girl?" Ismene scoffed. "I'm green because I don't know all that has befallen you because of my father? I know about your betrothal to my father after my mother's death, Lady Helen, but it is not at my fault that he married Catelyn instead."

"You're father," the older woman uttered with tight lips and infuriated green eyes. "Did nothing except betray House Mandal. He betrayed me. Be he is still hailed a hero by the realm for defeating Tywin Lannister and helping King Robert overthrow the Targaryen's. You know nothing, child. Nothing of the truth."

Without another word, Helen shot her a dangerous scowl before turning heel and making her way out of the room, leaving Ismene fuming. The girl wanted to know what her good-mother meant by the passed. Was there something she was missing?

Not long after the heated confrontation, Evolet appears. The girl that was once so lively and full of life only became a former shell of herself. Now quiet, shy, and evasive. It was sad to see such a vibrant soul dwindle into a valley alone. Ismene truly couldn't blame her, not when she carried a bastard that was due soon. Robb's bastard.

The Estemore girl glowed in her pregnancy, but her shame followed her wherever she went, dampening what beauty there was. Her mother had done well in making her feel worthless and used, and her father was outraged to learn that there was no way of using her in a bartered betrothal. She spent most of her days locking herself away in her chambers, seeking solitude from all except Lukas and Ismene. It seemed that Evolet would simply have a bastard child and that was the end of her.

"I heard," the quiet girl uttered, her voice sounding as if she hadn't talked in a while. A hint of hope was audible though. "There are two. Boys by what I'm told. I'm happy for you."

If only the child I carry had a name, Evolet thought to herself. If they were a Stark, they wouldn't have to carry the burden I do now.

"Yes, it would seem the Gods favor us," Ismene replies.

Evolet peers over the bassinets, looking down on the babes. Her stomach twinged with guilt. Every day she scalded herself for being so ignorant.

"We're going to war," Ismene states bluntly. "My father has been siezed, wrongfully accused by the Lannisters. Darik has called the banners."

For a moment, Evolet is able to forget her burden as she realized what that meant. War. That was something that hadn't happened in years, not in her lifetime at least. Ismene's father was trapped as well which made Evolet think about the pain her good-sister was facing.

The pregnant girl leaned down and pulled her into an embrace. "I'm so sorry, Ismene," she murmurs. "The North will save them. I promise."