┏━ tribulation.
( SCENE 17 ) ━┛

TERREN places a newly arrived letter in Ismene's hand, bearing the familiar and heart warming sigil of her maiden house. The dire wolf was a calming site indeed and with such a formal display it could be no one other than her father announcing official news. She broke the seal away with a crack and hungrily began to read. Indeed, it was her fathers small, conservative script covering the paper, detailing some important news.

"What might it be, m'lady?" Terran asked as she stood a few feet away. "If you don't mind me asking, of course." Fenrir wandered up to the man's side and took a seat, allowing Terran to give him a scruff on his big fluffy head. The dire wolf had grown accustomed to the guard's presence ever since he began shadowing Ismene. He was one of the few that could touch the beast.

Ismene looked up in glee at her guard, flashing him bright smile. "My father tells me that the King is on his way to Winterfell and he requests that Lukas and I make an appearance," she tells her friend and guard.

Terran is quiet for a moment as the Estemore girl continues to scan the letter.

"What might the King be riding so far north for?" Terran asks, voicing the same question they'd both been thinking. It was unnatural, indeed, for the King to travel such a distance when everyone in the Kingdoms came to him. It must be important enough for the notoriously lazy man to make such an effort as to travel north.

Ismene shrugged as she set the letter on the table beside her. It wasn't normal for the King to even leave the capital, let alone if the said King was Robert Baratheon. Either way, they would find out soon enough.

"We'll know once we arrive," she tells him as she grips the chair near her. She is suddenly taken over by a sense of nausea and she grabs the chair with both of her hands. Her stomachs churns in the horrible way that is all too familiar as he creeps it's way up her throat.

"M'lady?" Terran asks, noticing the sudden change.

Before Ismene can even lift a finger she is bolting toward the empty chamber pot near her side of the bed. It was quite embarrassing to be unleashing the contents of her stomach in front of a man, being a noble lady, but in that moment she didn't care as tears welled in her eyes and her throat burned. Once she was finally able to utter a word with drool hanging off her lips, she ordered Terran to get help.

"Find Lady Evolet," she croaked as she felt another wave hitting her. Terran must've have been utterly confused as be bolted out of the door and down the hall, the sound of his armor clinking as he ran. Not long after, he came back with her good-sister following close behind.

"Ismene?" Evolet exclaimed as she rushed over and pulled Ismene's long locks away from her face. Just as she was finishing up, Terran had obtained a cloth and was handing it to Evolet. The girl began to clean up Ismene's face.

"Are you ill?" Terran asked with concern behind them, trying to be helpful in anyway he could. "I can fetch the Maester."

Evolet looked up to the man, a pleased and excited grin covering her features as she began to lift Ismene up and toward the bed behind her. Once the girl was lying down, she turned to the guard. "No, she is far from ill," Evolet replies leaving a confused expression on Terran's face. "It would appear the Gods have been kind."

It seemed as if the Terran began to connect the dots as his expression lit up. "You mean to say she's with child?"

Evolet nodded happily. It was one of the most obvious signs of pregnancy with it being so early. Either way, House Estemore would finally have another heir. "Unless she seemed unwell throughout the day," she grinned.

"No, no, m'lady was just fine up until she finished reading that letter," he replies, gesturing to the open letter on the table near him.

Evolet, now interested, saunters over and snatches the letter. She sees there's a Stark sigil broken on the front, meaning it was from Ismene's family. She planned on just scanning through it, to see if anything of importance was in it. She was too curious to not take a look. Once a few sentences caught her attention, she found her heart leaping bounds. 

"Your father is requesting you visit Winterfell?" Evolet asks, whirling around to face Ismene. By now, she was recovered and seemed to feel a little better after her episode. She was curled up, her face pale.

Ismene nods. "Yes, if we are to get there in time, we'll have to leave on the morrow."

This was Evolet's chance. She'd get to see Robb again, meaning there was still hope. Ismene had promised she'd help make her dreams come true and Evolet thought the Gods were actually smiling down on her. They should be, as she spent much of her time in the God's Wood nowadays.

"You must take me with you," Evolet pleads as she makes her way over and sits next to Ismene. "Please. I have to see him."

Ismene had promised she'd help Evolet with her Robb situation, so she nodded her head without a second thought. "Of course," she says and it seems as if Evolet's going to start bouncing off the walls. Now, Ismene's good-sister seemed in the highest of spirits.

"Will you be telling Lukas tonight?" Evolet asks, now showing the excitement about her future niece or nephew. Perhaps her lady mother would finally show a little gratitude toward Ismene for providing an heir for House Estemore so soon in the couples marriage. Evolet expected the lateral, but there was still the possibility.

Ismene gives her a weak smirk. "I'll tell him, tonight, before supper."

❆

LUKAS was in a bitter mood that evening as he made his way toward his chambers. His father had done well in royally pissing him off, after assigning him a task better left for the peasants down in Long Lake village, or maybe at least someone more qualified.

"Every Lord should be qualified in handling their realm," his father had said just as he was fleeing the room. More often than not Lukas found himself wishing he wasn't a highborn noble with so many responsibilities. Maybe then he wouldn't always be in such a sour mood.

Standing at the entrance of his shared chambers was Terran Bayle, the man sent from Winterfell to act as Ismene's personal guard. At first, Lukas had found it annoying, as if he was incapable of protecting his own wife. He grew to like the man, though, just over the near fortnight he'd been there. He was good guy, Lukas had to admit, and he wouldn't have wanted anyone else to protect his wife when he couldn't.

"Evening, m'lord," Terran greeted as Lukas got closer. The guard seemed to have a joy about him that Lukas couldn't quite place.

"Terran," Lukas greeted simply with a weak smile before passing him and entering the room. As soon as he closed the door behind him, Fenrir loped over to greet him with a kick to the hand as he always did.

Ismene was sitting at the table where she was diligently sketching something on parchment with a charcoal piece. Lukas has learned quickly that his wife was a skilled artist among other talents, which was something he loved about her. As he got close, he found it to be the vague image of an infant, strangely.

"Why might you be drawing that?" He asked in all curiosity as he gazed down upon the beautifully crafted drawing. She was so gifted, he thought.

Ismene broke from her trance, gazing up at him with the same knowing look Terran had. It made Lukas' brow cock in inquiry.

"I often sketch things I love and want," she begins. She pulls away the sketch of the infant, revealing Fenrir on a separate page. Just below that was a rough sketch of Winterfell, then finally she revealed Darik. She loved seeing his face and she had an almost photographic memory of his features. The sketch brought her comfort.

"It does well in soothing a heart of longing," she then specifically picks up the infant drawing and proceeds to shred it. Once in pieces, she tosses them into the blazing fire behind her, where they disappear into embers. "So I suppose I won't be needing that one anymore."

It didn't take long for Lukas to understand what she was implying. He felt his breath hitch and his heart quicken.

"You mean—?" He could barely get the words out, feeling his body trembling.

Ismene rose to her feet, nodding her head with a wide grin.

Lukas couldn't say anything else as he snatched his wife into a joyful embrace. He was going to be a father, and he would have the heir he needs. He couldn't properly express his happiness, as he could only squeeze his wife as she laughed. Once he set her down, he put a hand against the wax covered mantle and caught his breath.

"I can't believe this," he sighs, feeling it truly. "This is truly happening. I'm going to be a father."

Ismene wraps her arms around his waist, feeling just as pleased as he does. She thought back on the night when they'd came together, just after a heated fight. Perhaps the witch had been right, their marriage would prosper through tribulation.

"I also received a letter from my father," she tells him, remembering the letter. "I suppose the King is on his way to Winterfell and my father invited—more requested that we make an appearance. We would need to leave on the morrow."

Lukas nods, thinking about telling everyone, including the King, that he was going to be a father. Not that he'd really care, but Lukas would tell anyone with working ears. The heir felt his soul at peace for the first time in a while.

❆

SUPPER in the presence of Henrik and Helen Estemore was an occasion that Ismene had soon found to be a bleak one since she'd join the family in their home. Unlike the cheerful meals surrounded by her siblings, filled with laughter, jokes, and tales about their days, the meals eaten by the family of foxes were far more tense and unwelcoming.

Despite knowing that supper was usually a tedious gathering among her new family, Ismene was able to hold at least a slight grin on her lips as she followed Lukas into the dining hall. As he always did anytime Ismene left she and Lukas' chambers, Fenrir trotted after her. By now, the beast seemed as if he were nearly the size of a normal sized wolf, which was very large for an animal considered as a pet. When he would reach full size, she was unsure of the type of implication they would face with her good-mother and her distaste towards Ismene's companion.

As expected, Helen, Evolet, and Henrik were all present at the table already. Platters of food were already being set out and chalices were being filled with wine by a servant. Another servant was serving the foot onto their smaller platters.

"By gods, does the beast always have to be present at supper?" Helen scowled as she watched the dire-wolf sit on his rump next to the chair that Ismene has taken a seat in. The animal looked between them all with his golden eyes as if he too was involved in the conversation.

"He is very protective over her," Lukas responded in his wife's defense. "We would find ourselves in need of a new chamber door if we tried locking him up for even the shortest time. It's best to allow him to be with her, mother."

Helen rolled her green eyes. "Best that I don't find one of my cat's missing," she warned. "Otherwise, there'll be need for more than a new chamber door once I've had it with you."

Just as the servant girl was going to pour wine into Ismene's chalice, she covered the top politely before looking up to the meek girl. "Water instead, please."

Her strange choice of drink, especially for a grown woman, did not go unnoticed by the rest of those that were seated at the table. Henrik gave Helen a inquisitive glance, which was a rare thing Lukas knew. His parents rarely conversed on any level other than formal. They only spoke when necessary and any other time they were silent towards each other. It was as if they weren't even married. Evolet noticed as well before she began to quietly sip at her own wine.

"Are you feeling well, Ismene?" Henrik spoke up. She looked to her good-father in surprise.

"Oh, um, yes I am," she says quickly with a shy smile and dip of her head.

"Is wine not your drink of choice?" Helen asks curiously in a tone other than brash. It has Lukas and Ismene confused. "I understand it's a southern drink. We have mead if that is more your taste."

"She can't drink right now," Lukas answers for her. She silently praises her husband for sparing her the embarrassment.

"Why not?" Henrik asks the question that had been appearing in everyone's mind.

"I don't want to hurt the baby," Ismene blurts out. The weight of the news lifts from her shoulders as the expressions of the Estemore's suddenly change. For the first time ever, Ismene sees a grin appear on Henrik's features. Helen's usual scowl softens into something kinder and Evolet displays a face of utter glee.

"You're with child?" Evolet exclaims happily.

Ismene nods, which prompts more questions from her good-parents.

"How long has this been known?" Helen asks curiously. It was strange to hear her speak in such a curious and open tone.

"She found out just this morning, I believe," Lukas informs them. "Then she told me shorty before supper."

"It'll be a welcoming site to see these halls filled with plenty of Estemore's again," Henrik says. "I was lonely in my youth but my father told me that our Keep was once teeming with the likes of us."

It doesn't help when the lord and lady of the house can't even speak to one another properly, Ismene thought to herself. She found herself wondering how they were unable to find love despite the circumstances they faced. She could only think of how she and Lukes did and were. Helen was once an outstanding beauty and Henrik was a fairly attractive man, what was so wrong between them that even instinct couldn't pull them together?

"Will you be announcing it during King Robert's visit to Winterfell?" Evolet asks.

"I couldn't think of a better time," Lukas nods with a smirk as he looks to Ismene.

"I propose a toast, then," Henrik raised his chalice. They all raised their's, Ismene's now containing water. "To the health of the impending addition of our house."

Metal chalices clicked together in unison just before the family gulped at their wine. Ismene drank her water, but all she could distinguish was the sharp taste metal.