A/N: Alrighty, an ANNOUNCEMENT before we get this chapter started. Unfortunately, going into the new year, I'm going to have to take a break from this fic. I'm at a stuck point with some of the plot and it will cause problems for me in immediate chapters if I can't figure it out.

Not to mention, if I do continue to update as I have been, the chapters will likely be rushed and substandard, which I don't want. All things considered, A Wolf Amongst Lions was a freak of nature for the fact I was able to keep up with it. This one has a few more extended plot threads to manage, so its giving me trouble. Ideally, the break won't be longer than a month, but I can't make any concrete promises.

So, apologies for not keeping up with the same regular schedule all the way through, but I appreciate the continued support. Enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 28: Widening Circle

The press and the police were waiting at the station when they arrived, but Tywin avoided most of them. Or at least Arya assumed he avoided them. Perhaps she just blacked out while gripping onto his arm and forgot the conversation. She was only half conscious through most of the drive back to the Lannister manor, and before she knew it, someone had opened her door. Her head lulled to the side, and she recognized Qyburn standing there, holding out a hand. His expression was that of mild disapproval.

"It's only been a few weeks since our last visit. You should endeavor to take fewer bullet wounds."

"Well, I wasn't the one who caught a train I knew was targeted by a terrorist organization," Arya mumbled.

"No. I'm sure you weren't." Qyburn looked up from her, presumably toward Tywin. Arya didn't turn her head to see. "It's not my place to question you sir but... why?"

"I have matters to attend to this afternoon," Tywin said simply.

"I find it difficult to attend to matters when one is shot."

"As you can see, I'm fine," Tywin said. "See to the girl. I have to make a few calls."

"Yes, sir." Qyburn grasped Arya's hand and helped her from the car. "Well, Miss Rivers... no one can say you're not doing your job."

The Faceless Men might disagree, Arya thought, but did not say. Instead, she offered a smile. "I am trying."

The gunshot wound was deeper than the previous one, and it was a miracle that Arya had stayed conscious this long. Maybe she had bandaged the wound sooner to at least limit the flow of blood. She had let the last wound bleed for a solid twenty minutes before she got help.

Qyburn was able to set her up with a blood transfusion and more water to help combat the blood loss. By the time he finished the last stitch, Arya could sit up without feeling like she might topple over if the wind hit her wrong.

"You have a high pain resistance," he noted casually as he cut the thread.

"Do I?" Arya asked.

"Oh yes," Qyburn said. "You don't flinch when the needle goes in. Its unusual. But then, I suppose you've had many stitches in your life."

Arya's eyes narrowed. "You noticed the last time you treated me and told Tywin."

"He's my employer," Qyburn said. "And he asked if I noticed anything of interest. You don't see many young women with the scars you have."

"I've had an interesting life," she said.

"Naturally," Qyburn said. "Don't worry. I have no intention of interrogating you. I'm only here to patch you up." He placed a bandage over the wound to cover the new stitches. "There. Make sure you rest it. Is this your dominant arm?"

"No. My left," Arya said. "But I can use them both almost equally well."

"Ambidextrous." Qyburn raised an eyebrow. "Were you born with that talent or did you develop it?"

I developed it. When the Waif broke my left arm in training, Arya thought, but she gave him a look. "I thought you had no intention of interrogating me."

"I'm only curious, Miss Rivers," Qyburn said. "Sometimes people ask each other questions in conversation."

Arya studied him for a moment longer before she spoke again. "How long have you worked for the Lannisters?"

"Ten years now," Qyburn said.

"And how did you come to work for them?"

Qyburn smirked and paced over to the sink. "Now who's conducting an interrogation?"

"Don't answer then," Arya said. "I was only curious."

"That's all right. I'm not as guarded as you." Qyburn filled a cup of water and returned to her, handing it over. She accepted and drank deeply. "Cersei hired me. The previous doctor was getting old."

"Why bother keeping a private doctor?" Arya asked.

"Many notable families like the Lannisters hire private doctors. It keeps any more sensitive medical matters away from the press. And I proved that I could be discreet, so I was an ideal candidate."

"How did you prove you could be discreet?" Arya asked.

"Well, if I told you, I wouldn't be living up to my reputation, would I?" Qyburn asked. "I helped the Lannisters with a certain matter. That is all I am at liberty to tell you."

Ten years ago, Arya thought. She tried to think about what was happening ten years ago. She was eight years old, so she hadn't paid attention to the business world. She remembered Robert Baratheon was over at their house a lot, complaining loudly about his recent divorce.

The divorce. Perhaps that was it. Cersei wanted to get a divorce from Robert Baratheon and she ended up getting most of her demands in the divorce. Pregnancy may have complicated the situation. Maybe Qyburn had helped her to deal with it.

That would make sense. It was pregnancy that rushed Cersei into a marriage with Robert Baratheon when she was just Arya's age. Marriage was a better solution than abortion with the press. The Faith of the Seven was staunchly against it. If anyone had caught wind of Cersei getting an abortion amid a divorce hearing, she may have lost custody of her kids. So Qyburn had handled it discreetly, and now he made a great deal of money.

She couldn't help but wonder what other matters he handled discreetly. If he had helped to cover any of Joffrey's indiscretions. Or the indiscretions of the Lannister brothers. Or Tywin himself. This man likely knew much of the skeletons in their closets, but she could tell just by looking at him he wouldn't give anything away. You could tell the talkers. He wasn't one of them.

Arya finished her water and hopped off the table. "Well... thank you for helping with the arm. I'll try not to get shot again anytime soon."

"An admirable goal, Miss Rivers," Qyburn said with a nod. "Until next time."

From Qyburn's room, Arya made her way to Tywin's office. He was on a call when she entered and she started to back away, but he gave her a wave to come in. Apparently, he wasn't worried about her overhearing the conversation.

"When the boy's shift is over then," he was saying. "I would like to take care of this matter as quickly as possible." There was a pause as the other person replied. "I don't see why the train hijacking should delay us. No one died. It's handled... If there's a leak I'll find it. I'd rather deal with this threat first... All right then. Until later." He hung up the phone, tossing it onto the desk and glancing to Arya. "Is the damage permanent?"

"Just another scar," she said. "Who were you talking to?"

"My son, Jaime," Tywin said. "He'll be over with your cousin after he gets off his shift. They'll bring the number they obtained and we'll see where it leads us."

"Right." Arya swallowed hard. The train hijacking had been so eventful, she nearly forgot about the number-and how much closer it could bring them to the truth behind her father's murder.

But that truth was a double-edged sword to Arya. As soon as she knew the truth, she could act on it. Once she acted on it, the Faceless Men would have fulfilled the deal, and her name... would no longer belong to her.

"You don't seem pleased by that," Tywin said.

Arya cursed herself. She needed to stop dropping her guard when he was in the room. "I am. Just worried that it will lead to a dead end."

He studied her for a moment, searching for a lie on her face, but before he could interrogate it further, there was a commotion in the hallway.

"I know where I'm going. Thank you."

Arya's eyebrows shot up. "Is that my mom?"

Tywin rubbed his temples. "Sounds that way."

Moments later the door opened and Arya's mother entered, a mix of fury and worry on her face. The worry dissipated to relief when she saw Arya. "Thank the gods. You're all right."

"Yes, I'm fine," Arya said, standing in time for her mother to pull her into a hug. "Why wouldn't I be all right?"

"Because according to the news, the Brotherhood hijacked a train from Highgarden to the king's Landing this morning. And Tywin Lannister was on the train." Catelyn pulled back to look at her. "They said there were casualties, but they didn't say who they were. So yes. I worried. A text next time wouldn't be amiss, Arya."

Arya felt shame wash over her. Of course, her mother was worried. Until recently, she thought Arya was dead. To hear that she was involved in a hijacking... that must have been terrifying. But Arya was not used to keeping her mother in the loop. Not after three years with the Faceless Men. "Sorry," she murmured. "I'm... sorry."

"I'm just glad you're safe," Catelyn said. Then, her eyes narrowed slightly, and she turned on Tywin. "One stipulation of our agreement was that you not put her in danger."

A normal person may have said, "How could I have known they would attack the train?" But Tywin was not normal, and if he said that, it would be a lie. Because he did know.

"I promised I wouldn't let anything happen to her," Tywin said. "And as you can see, your daughter is fine."

"Really?" Catelyn asked. "What's wrong with her arm then?"

"A minor graze from a bullet."

"She was shot?"

"It's not that bad though," Arya chimed in. "I'm fine."

"See," Tywin said. "She's fine."

Catelyn didn't reply for a minute. Instead, she drew in a deep breath. She had one of the looks, which every Stark child was quite familiar with. Actually, it was a delicate blend between two looks. The 'Seven help me' look, which she wore when Arya's father brought home six dogs without telling her. And the 'one second from flipping the nearest table look' which she wore when an assistant principal once made the mistake of blaming Sansa for the rumors circulating about her.

Arya wasn't sure if the look was meant for Tywin or her, or possibly both, but when her mother finished taking a breath, she looked at Tywin. "Mr. Lannister... I agreed to leave my daughter with you because if there is a snake in the grass, we don't want them to grow wary. But I should make something clear... if you let something happen to her, I will make you regret it. That's a promise."

Arya felt a surge of admiration for her mother just then, that she was so willing to face the notorious Tywin Lannister on her behalf. She also felt a surge of guilt, knowing that she would hurt her again when she left. And a slight twinge of worry, because if Catelyn blamed Tywin for that she might murder him, continuing the streak of dead CEOs. Could her mother get away with murder? She wasn't sure, and she didn't want to put her in a position where she would have to try.

Tywin tilted his head to the side, studying Catelyn. If her statement angered him, he didn't show it. In fact, he seemed more intrigued by the declaration than anything. "I understand, Mrs. Stark. But you need not worry. Your daughter, it seems, can handle herself very well in dangerous situations."

Catelyn looked from him to Arya, who picked at her nails. "You know... I've been training. Keeping up with the stuff Syrio taught me back before I disappeared." She shrugged. "Anyway, Mr. Lannister is exaggerating. Most of it was luck."

She wasn't entirely lying. In fact, she would be dead if Tywin hadn't been ready with his gun. The Waif and Jaqen would have berated her for such a careless mistake.

Catelyn exhaled. "Arya-"

The door to the office opened and Arya paled as Cersei Lannister stepped through the door. She was sharply dressed as always, and her expression was sharp to match it. But her eyes went from hard to confused when she saw Catelyn and Arya in the room.

"Mrs. Stark," she said. "And... Miss Rivers. Shouldn't you still be with my daughter in the Reach?"

"I... yes, ma'am," Arya said. "But your father asked me to return with him."

"Why?" Cersei asked. She looked back to Catelyn. "And what are you doing here? You've almost never come to the manor, but this is the second time I've seen you here in less than two weeks."

Catelyn didn't respond. There was nothing to say, really. No lie that would sound convincing. Cersei was not a fool, and she was right. Arya should be with Myrcella, and the only reason she wasn't was because she needed to help find her father's killer. And Catelyn did not come to the Lannister manor. She was only here for Arya.

Cersei let out a frustrated breath and looked to her father. "Okay. Seriously. What the fuck is going on?"

Arya glanced at Tywin, hoping he might come up with some brilliant lie. But even he seemed to recognize the absurdity of the situation. "Catelyn Stark is here to check on the wellbeing of her daughter."

"Her daughter?" Cersei asked. "Why would Sansa Stark be here?"

"Not Sansa. Arya," Tywin said.

Cersei's eyes narrowed. "Arya Stark is dead."

"Not... exactly," Arya said.

Cersei turned her gaze on her, and Arya sank a bit in her chair beneath her scrutiny. The realization hit the woman's face, and Arya watched a whole litany of emotions pass through her green eyes.

"No. That's impossible."

"It's unlikely," Tywin said. "But not impossible. Beth Rivers was Arya Stark in disguise from beginning. She was missing, but never dead."

For the first time, Arya saw Cersei caught entirely off guard. She looked from Tywin to Catelyn to Arya, as if trying to make it all make sense. At last she got out a question: "And... what was she doing pretending to be a... bodyguard?"

Tywin exhaled, and Arya didn't envy him for having to recount recent events to Cersei. It was a confusing story, and it made little sense, especially since she had only told them half the truth about her time away.

To his credit, Tywin was good at delivering incredible information as if it were of no consequence. He nearly made the situation sound normal in his bored, dry tone. An impressive feat. But still at the end, the truth left Cersei rubbing her temples, looking like she desperately wanted a drink.

"So... Arya Stark infiltrated our pay roll because she suspects us of being involved with her father's death. She lies to us and applies for a job under false pretenses. And apparently we're rewarding this behavior by... helping her?"

"Considering that anyone who murdered Ned Stark might target our family next, yes. We're helping her," Tywin said. "This isn't a charity. This is for the good of our family. It just happens that Stark and Lannister interests align for once."

"And why should we trust her?" Cersei asked. "Considering she's lied about everything else."

That's actually a good point, Arya thought. I have lied about everything else. I'm still lying.

"If the girl meant our family harm, we would know," Tywin said. "I'd say that besides lying about her identity, she's performed well in her job. She proved herself suitable again today when our train was hijacked."

"Gods. Right. The train. That was what I came to talk to you about, wasn't it? And I forgot because," she gestured wildly. "This." Cersei let out a long breath, pacing from one book shelf to another. "I don't like this."

"No one likes this," Catelyn said. "It's just a necessity, given the circumstances."

"Your husband was killed in a car accident," Cersei said. "There was no evidence of murder. Why are we assuming it's murder?"

"Because too many CEOs have died in King's Landing lately," Tywin said. "And we've already found evidence of foul play. We just don't know the extent of it yet."

"And until we do?" Cersei raised an eyebrow. "We let the Stark girl play bodyguard to my daughter? Why should I put Myrcella's life on the line for this?"

"Excuse me?" Arya stood from her seat. "Look, I know I lied about my name and my intentions, but I haven't put Myrcella on any lines since I've been here. In fact, if not for me, she might already be dead. Or did you forget?"

Cersei's green eyes flicked to her and Arya saw the fury burning within them. But it was a mask for her worry, and even she couldn't retort to that. "I have not forgotten." She looked to her father. "Is our family truly in danger?"

"I've always preferred to err on the side of caution," Tywin said. "But we have a lead. If something comes of it, I'll let you know."

"Will you?" Cersei asked. "It seemed you would have gladly kept me in the dark if I didn't walk in at the right moment."

"I hoped not to involve you until we knew more," Tywin said.

"I see," Cersei said. "And who else knows besides the people in this room?"

"Clegane," Tywin said. "He's the only one on the security team with any information."

"My children," Catelyn added. "Though most of them don't know details. My nephew Jon knows the most because of his connections with the police."

"And Jaime," Arya said. "For the same reason."

That seemed to send a spark of irritation through Cersei. "Really? Jaime? You involved Jaime before me. Next you'll tell me that Tyrion knows."

"Don't be ridiculous, Cersei," Tywin said. "I involved him because of his connection with the police. We needed-"

"Never mind. No need to explain," Cersei said, stalking toward the door. "I'm sure you'll update me when it becomes relevant."

"I will," Tywin said. "I trust you'll keep this new information to yourself?"

"As if anyone would believe this story," Cersei muttered before she slipped out the door and slammed it behind her.

"That wasn't exactly a yes," Catelyn observed.

"She'll keep it a secret," Tywin said. "Cersei often plays at rebellion, but does as I say more often than not. And she won't endanger her daughter."

Arya pulled nervously at two fingers. Tywin was right. Cersei wouldn't endanger Myrcella. But the ever-widening circle of people who knew the truth worried Arya. Her family, Tywin, Cersei, Jaime, Sandor Clegane... when would Jaqen or the Waif join their numbers?

She had to hope they closed in on her father's killer before the Faceless Men closed in on her.

There were many people who Jaime didn't expect to spend an extended amount of time with after he lost his hand—or ever. One was Brienne Tarth, who after their rocky start, he assumed would rather fight a bear than spend more than a few minutes with him. Another was Jon Stark.

Eddard Stark's nephew looked a great deal like his uncle—more so than any of his sons in fact. He had a mess of dark curls which fell in front of his dark grey eyes. Those eyes showed nothing but distrust when Jaime pulled up beside him in the station parking lot.

"Shift over?" he asked.

"Yes," Jon said flatly. "What are you doing here?"

"My father returned to King's Landing this morning," Jaime said. "We're going to call that number today, so we're going to the Lannister manor."

Jon shoved his hands in his pockets. What serious face he had for someone only in his mid-twenties. "Could you not have texted me this?"

"Sure. Probably," Jaime said. "But you've never been to the Lannister manor, and you'd have to deal with security at the gate. Terrible inconvenience. Thought it might be easier if I gave you a ride."

Jon did not respond immediately. He glanced from Jaime toward his own car. Not one to disguise his dislike, was he? He was like many members of his family in that regard. It was a Stark family trait to be honest about the good and the bad.

"I'd also like to form a strategy before we talk to my father," Jaime said. "That's my other reason for offering."

Jon seemed to accept this motivation. "Fine then. We'll discuss."

"Excellent," Jaime said. "Hop in."

Once in the passenger's seat, Jaime noticed Jon glance more than once at the stump of his wrist which rested on the wheel. Either out of curiosity about the accident or worry that perhaps a one handed man wasn't the best driver.

"Relax, Stark," Jaime said. "I've been without a hand for a year now. I'm a perfectly good driver."

"I didn't say anything," Jon said.

"You don't have to. I could see the question written all over your face," Jaime said. "You Starks are an honest lot. Got that from old Ned I suppose. Though, no, he wasn't your father so... perhaps the trait came from your grandfather?"

"I'm honest because my uncle taught me not to lie," Jon said. "I'm sorry that your father didn't do the same."

Jaime smirked. "You know, Stark, I'm not sure where you got the idea that I'm a liar. I've never lied to you, have I?"

Jon shrugged, looking out the window.

"I suppose your uncle told you some nasty rumors about me," Jaime said. "Maybe I should be flattered that Ned Stark was so concerned with my past actions that he spoke of them to his children. Was it a bed-time story he told you at night?"

"Keep his name out of your mouth."

"Why? He didn't keep my name out of his," Jaime said.

Jon crossed his arms over his chest, and Jaime could see him wondering if he could jump out of the car without damaging himself.

Jaime sighed. "Peace, Stark. I'm not here to fight. And I'm not asking you to be my friend either. Once this is all over, our families can go back to hating each other from a distance."

"That will be a relief to all of us, I'm sure," Jon said. "So. A strategy. How do we approach this?"

"I figured we'd call the number pretending to be Slynt," Jaime said. "We can tell whoever is on the other end that something has gone wrong. There are people asking questions and we need a little more security."

"You want to ask them for more money?" Jon asked. "Won't that drive them away?"

"I doubt it," Jaime said. "Slynt said that the voice on the other end sounded nervous and pegged them as 'some rich kid'. Which means he thinks they have money to burn and will do anything to keep this quiet."

"Of course they would," Jon said. "Even someone without money to burn would want to keep this quiet."

"Exactly," Jaime said. "We'll play on the nerves and coax them into some meeting."

"They won't want to show their face," Jon said.

"No. I'm sure they'll come with a mask. But it won't matter if we have the backup," Jaime said.

"What if they come with backup?"

Jaime paused. That was a good point. It was likely that someone with cash to burn would burn some of said cash on bodyguards of some sort. "Then we'll play it safe. At least we'll be able to identify their build and voice. It will give us something."

Jon nodded once. "So maybe we coax them into a meeting. Only one problem with that. Neither of us are Slynt."

"True," Jaime said. "But I worked with the man for a few years. I can do a decent enough impression."

"Good enough to fool the one on the other side of the phone?" Jon asked.

Jaime sighed. "Well, we'll see, won't we?" He glanced at Jon. "Unless you have a better idea?"

Jon thought for a moment before he shook his head. "I thought about pretending to blackmail them into more money if they wanted their secret to stay that way. But that might just make them nervous and send them into hiding."

"Agreed," Jaime said. "We want them to think we're their friend. Or at least their ally." His hand tightened on the wheel. "It still might fail. I'm banking on our culprit being a bit... stupid. You'd have to be if you hire someone like Slynt."

The slightest smile tugged at Jon's mouth, and Jaime counted that as a victory. "Aye. You'd have to be."

A/N: And that's the end of that. Like I said, I'm going to endeavor not to take too long a break. But if I don't, the following chapters will definitely be rushed and sloppy and I don't think anyone wants that. So happy new year and keep subscribed to this story for when it comes back. Review, subscribe and I'll see you next time!