┏━ tribulation.
( SCENE 16 ) ━┛

"ISMENE, are you alright?" Evolet's question suddenly snaps the girl out of her day dreaming as she remembers she had been having tea with her good-sister that afternoon. She tried so hard to stay focused the days after hearing the uncanny prophesies from the witch in the village, yet even at night, when curled up next to sleeping Lukas, she couldn't shove them away. They seemed to follow her wherever she went. The thoughts of Aubrey and Darik terrified her even more when she really tried to analyze them.

"Yes, I am," Ismene replies as she reaches for the tea she'd barely touched, which was cold by now. They sat together in her chambers while Lukas was off performing his duties as he did everyday. With him away so much, it seemed that he had been distant as of late. At nights he would come to their room to sleep and that was all that she saw of him as by morning he would be gone again. She hoped dearly it wasn't because they hadn't come together yet as everyone believed. Part of her knew he wasn't that type of man, but she also wasn't quite sure.

Evolet, she too with her mind swirling with thoughts, had spent a fortnight trying to keep her nerves at bay and do everything in her power not to cave and tell Ismene about her love for Robb and beg for her to do something about it. She'd confirmed the feeling once they'd left Winterfell, when she wasn't entirely too far from Robb and she felt as if she could just run back to his arms and no one would notice. Even when she reminisced on their intimate night together did she feel her heart swell and her breath hitch. She wanted it back so badly that she almost felt as if there were nothing else to live for.

Though Ismene had been acting different since she'd heard the eerie prophesies, she knew she wasn't alone, not with the way Evolet seemed to carry herself when she wasn't locking herself up in her chambers. Even when they'd been in Winterfell, she'd seen the strange way that Evolet had acted when the Mandal's arrived, how she looked invigorated even though it was early in the morning. Perhaps now would be a good time to ask.

"Evolet," Ismene says. The mention of her name seems to have the girl even more nervous, as her brown eyes are wide when she looks to Ismene. "Would you mind telling me what is wrong?"

Evolet adverts her gaze, seeming afraid to say anything. Ismene wants to prod and find out what was really running through her good-sister's head and perhaps find a solution.

"Evolet."

The girl shuffled uncomfortably before her tear filled brown eyes met Ismene's and the Estemore girl broke down into a gentle fit of sobbing. Ismene watched with wide eyes as she leaned forward and cupped her face with her hands.

"He told me— he told me we would be wed," Evolet sobs. Ismene watches her in bewilderment while trying to understand who he was. "He promised me."

"What do you mean?" Ismene asks as she places and kind hand on Evolet's shoulder. The girl was only a few years younger than Ismene, but as she weeped she could only see the fears of a child in a situation she didn't want to be in.

"If I tell you, you'll despise me," Evolet nearly whispered once she'd tried her best at wiping away the salty tears from her cheeks and red eyes.

"You are my good-sister," Ismene gently scolded. "I would never despise you for telling me something like this."

Evolet, though not entirely convinced, takes a deep breath before finally speaking. As if to reassure her, Fenrir pads over and rests his big grey head on her lap. She lets out an emotional laugh as she looks down at the dire wolf and pets his head before she speaks.

"I love Robb," Evolet states simply as if she's declared the worst act of treason. "When we were in Winterfell, I lied with him. I know it was wrong, that I shouldn't have given him my maidenhead. I know it will be punished for it, but it felt right in the moment. I don't know what overcame me, but I wanted to feel something after feeling nothing for so long."

That damned boy, Ismene mentally scoffed at her younger brother. I hope he didn't merely take the girls maidenhead for a quick fix. Hopefully he plans to actually wed her if our father permits it. Otherwise I'll have a few choice words to share with him. This poor girl doesn't deserve this.

Evolet seemed to teeter on the edge while waiting for Ismene's response. Fenrir must have noticed the girls anxiety as he forced his upper legs onto her lap and rested his chin on her shoulder.

"I am not upset with you, Evolet," Ismene declares. "I do not judge one for actions of passion. If you truly love Robb, then perhaps it was right for the time. I presume you were..." she pauses for a moment, deciding not to say the words so that whatever was left of Evolet's dignity stayed intact. "Safe."

Evolet doesn't seem to care as she simply nods. "As safe as you can be, I suppose," she tells Ismene. "In moment's of passion, you don't quite think as much as you normally do." Ismene felt as if she were missing something by not performing all of her marital duties. Perhaps she was holding back because of fear or maybe even embarrassment. She wasn't quite sure, but a part of her decided maybe there was no reason to wait any longer. Lukas was her husband and she knew it would come eventually.

"I completely understand, my dear," Ismene replies after clearing her throat. "If Gods be willing, you and Robb will be wed. For now, I will do all that I can to reach my father about it. I cannot promise anything, but know I am going to try my hardest." Ismene's words seem to brighten Evolet, as she straightens her back and continues to stroke Fenrir's large head.

"You are truly a blessing," Evolet murmurs softly. "I couldn't ask for a better good-sister. The Gods were kind when they put you in this family. It will prosper because of you."

Ismene smiles warmly, content with the fact that at least half of the Estemore family was kind and tolerable. In reality, Lukas and Evolet would be the only ones Ismene would ever need. It would be a godsend once Lady Helen was gone and Lakewell was rid of her.

Ismene gets to her and Fenrir wanders to her side. "I would say it's growing late, and I do know that you must be tired," she tells Evolet. "Perhaps you should return to your chambers and rest for the night." Evolet agrees, standing as well to follow Ismene to the door. Before she leaves, she stops in the threshold.

"I truly appreciate what you are doing for me," Evolet says softly. Ismene can see the exhaustion now that they are close. Evolet has dark circles under her eyes and Ismene feels pity for the girl.

"I would do anything for you," Ismene swears. "We are sisters. I always will."

Evolet offers a kind smile before dipping her head in farewell. As she wanders away, Ismene closes the door and turns back toward the room. Fenrir has hopped onto the bed, where he sat with her his tail wagging and his golden eyes trained on her. Oh, how she loved that wolf. Wandering over and crawling onto the bed at well, she lied in her spot and embraced the quietness of the room. Fenrir lied against her side, his head turned toward the door as it always was. Just when she felt as if she might drift to sleep, the door opens and Lukas enters.

Ismene sits upright immediately, causing Fenrir to hop off the bed and greet his other master. Lukas does scruff the wolf on the head, but says nothing as he begins to kick off his boots and pull away his doublet. Once both are off, he wanders to his side of the bed and plops down next to Ismene. She watched the entire time, somewhat hurt that he didn't say a word to her.

"Do we have grievances?" Ismene asks him softly, somewhat afraid of what he might say. He's first response is a heavy sigh, which made her regret even saying anything.

"No, I am not angered with you," he tells her with the voice she'd been longing to hear for a few days. His words soon turn sour. "I've been busy, you know that. Don't ask silly questions that you already know."

At his unexpected and stinging words, Ismene is wounded. She'd been so keen on talking to him, perhaps even spending some time together, but now she wanted to flee the room in anger. She felt rejected. "Perhaps I wouldn't have to ask such questions if you actually decided to give me attention every once in a while," she growled, a defense mechanism she'd learned growing up around boys most of her childhood. She always seemed to use it with Darik the most, but Lukas was the last person she thought she would.

"You know that I've been tending to my affairs with my father," Lukas is quick to retort. He was outraged at how she was coming at him, as if he was gone just for the purpose of leaving her alone. If only she knew how hard he was working to become the lord that she needed, that she wanted. "If you think I disappear everyday to find entertainment elsewhere, you're sorely mistaken." 

Tears begin to well in her eyes. Already, they were fighting, married only a moon and acting as it'd been hundreds. No, it wasn't a good sign, but the witches words had come in a warning. Your marriage will prosper in tribulation, she had so ominously informed her. Already, the terrifying prophecies were coming true and she could only imagine what Darik and Aubrey's meant.

"Your words pain me, truly," she utters lowly while she rises and begins to pace the room. "Do you really think that I've enjoyed spending my days alone in this Keep with merely the company of Fenrir and Evolet once in a while? I feel alone, Lukas, and as my husband it is your duty to make me feel otherwise."

Lukas knew he was in the wrong. He shouldn't have talked to her in such a way, have been so harsh to the woman he was supposed to love and cherish and make his queen. Instead, he'd allowed his work to get the best of him and had been distant and knew it. This was his fault, not hers.

"Please, forgive me," he murmurs as he tiredly forces his way to his feet. He wanders over to her and wraps his arms around her from behind. She doesn't seem to want the contact at first, but she does accept it. "I have no right to be so harsh toward my wife. You've only been good to me. Allow me to make you feel wanted."

Ismene turns to look at him. Her husband, even when tired, even when she was upset with him, was utterly handsome. She'd admit it to anyone at anytime and in that moment she forgot about the way he'd so harshly spoken to her and instead of forcing away his affection she took it. Forcing her lips against his, they fell into almost synchronized movements that began to lead toward their bed. Ismene swore she'd never forget the way his lips moved up and down her neck and the way he grasped her waist. Lukas loved the way her lips tasted and how soft her cascading hair was.

Articles of clothing began to be tossed to the floor as the tension grew. That night, in her husband's arms, Ismene felt loved. Truly and utterly cherished.