Chapter Text
Two years passed peacefully which, for both the Stark and Lannister family, was a welcome change of pace. The first year was frequently spent looking over one's shoulder waiting for the other shoe to drop. Especially for Arya. It took her a long while to finally believe it was over. That Jaqen was dead, and the Faceless Men had no more hold on her.
It was a tumultuous first month of course. Tywin Lannister's sudden resignation from the company sent shock waves across the business world. The Stark and Lannister alliance was met with similar surprise. But both companies kept afloat through it all. There were rumors of scandal surrounding Tywin. Some conspiracy theorists even speculated about his connection to the dead CEOs like Olenna Tyrell. But those conspiracies petered off after the first few months.
According to Myrcella, her mother worked practically round the clock in the days after her father's resignation. She had large shoes to fill, and she was keen to make everyone realize that just because Tywin Lannister was gone did not make the Lannister corporation easy prey. There were some within the company that saw blood in the water when he left. They wondered how much longer Kevan would remain in his seat and eyed the coveted CEO position. It was Cersei's goal to shut any of those ambitions down.
"She is working too much," Myrcella said. "But…she's doing well. She's drinking less, actually, because she doesn't have the time. And her and Uncle Tyrion are sort of getting along for once."
"Really?" Arya asked.
"Well…they're constantly at each other's throats," Myrcella said. "But they're allies now, so it's not as bad. I'm glad to see him around the house more though. He used to avoid it like the plague. He still doesn't talk to Grandfather much, but it's nice to have him around."
No, Arya imagined that relationship would never truly heal. But she knew Tyrion would do well within the Lannister company. He was as sharp as Tywin himself, even if Tywin struggled to admit it.
Once the Lannister Corporation settled and the market evened out, it seemed their two families had finally weathered the storm. And so Arya let herself plan for the future. She got her high school diploma before moving on to pursue her business degree. More than ever, she wanted to gain skills to help the family. She didn't want to stray far from them again.
Sansa was of a like mind. She also pursued her degree in business and started shadowing their mother at work.
"I figure by the time I finish my degree and get a few years of work under my belt, maybe she'll be able to retire," Sansa said. "She's run herself ragged ever since dad died. She deserves a break."
"I'm sure she'd be happy to have you as a successor," Arya said. "I'm still wondering where I'd be best suited in the company. Maybe as a lawyer. I'm good at spotting small details others don't notice. And negotiating."
"I think you'd do well at whatever you set your mind to," Sansa said. "Good news is, you don't have to figure it out right away."
That was true. Arya had plenty of time, and she was still getting used to that sensation.
The whole family wasn't focused on the family business of course. Rickon was still working to graduate high school and Bran…well he had projects of his own. He was still curating his web of information, occasionally working with people like the Spider and Oberyn. But this time he had more…purpose. It wasn't about having all the gossip or distracting himself from family tragedies anymore. It was about making sure the last few years couldn't repeat itself.
"No more Faceless Men sneaking into the cracks. No more Long Nights," Bran said. "I want to be able to stop that sort of thing before it happens."
"You think you would join the police?" Arya asked.
Bran shook his head with a rueful smile. "The police still have problems of their own. You can't always change things from inside a corrupt system. I need a bird's eye view, you know?"
A bird's eye view. Fitting considering the name he started to go by—one based off an old folktale from the North. The Three Eyed Raven.
If Bran was working to change things from the outside, Jon continued to work from the inside. He kept his job with the police, but he spent more time than ever advocating for the Wildlings and their place in King's Landing. He frequently posted bails for Mance Rayder's people and even sometimes Mance Rayder himself, and when the Wildlings held protests, he was always there to keep the peace.
Ygritte was over at the house often and Arya sometimes heard them planning their next move in the kitchen or his bedroom. Sometimes Bran joined them. Sometimes she did as well. She liked Ygritte for her feisty attitude and righteous anger.
"Your brother is the only cop I like," she said. "Fuck the rest of them."
"You like Brienne fine," Jon reminded her.
"Suppose so, yeah."
"And Jaime."
"Eh. Not sure about that one. Rich pretty boy, he is."
"I'm also a rich pretty boy," Jon reminded her.
Ygritte gave him a gap toothed smile and kissed him on the cheek. "That's right you are."
There had been a lot of surreal moments over the past two years. But tonight, brought the most surreal moment of them all—the annual Autumn Charity Gala which Arya would be attending as herself for the first time since before her father passed.
Five charity galas ago, she had been missing. Four galas ago, she had been declared dead. Three galas ago, she had attended as Beth Rivers. Two galas ago, she had been in the middle of a tense operation to rescue Sansa from Ramsay Snow. And one gala ago…well she just decided to skip that one, along with half of their family. They needed a break after the previous gala's madness.
But now. Now she would be attending as Arya Stark again, and that felt like a sort of triumph.
Sansa did her hair for that night and helped her pick out a dress that suited her. Her older sister was radiant as ever and also making her triumphant return to the gala after skipping the last few years due to kidnapping and also just wanting to rest for a bit.
"I think every gala we reach without some sort of crisis happening should be a milestone," Sansa said.
"So. Two galas since catastrophe," Arya said. "I like that. I hope we get the number up in the teens."
"I hope we get it up into the twenties."
"In fact, let's shoot for one hundred."
They both broke out into a fit of laughing and Sansa slid one last clip into Arya's hair. "There. You look perfect."
Arya smiled. "So do you. As always. I'm sure Margaery will like the dress."
"Oh hush," Sansa said. "I'm sure Myrcella will like yours as well."
Arya rolled her eyes, heat rising to her cheeks as she stood. "Come on. We should get going."
Then she walked arm and arm with her sister from the room.
Cersei never much liked the Charity Gala. She found it a rather overblown business meeting disguised as a party. It was work but with twice as much alcohol to tempt her. She made an effort to ignore trays of wine and champagne as they passed by. She needed to stay sober for at least the first few hours before she indulged.
Margaery Tyrell had, as usual, made a grand entrance. Though her father was the one to take over after Olenna Tyrell died, she was very much the face of the company. The Baratheon and Tyrell merger remained a threat to them but, fortunately, the Lannisters had found a way to stand against their storm even after her father had stepped down.
She could not deny the role the Starks had played in that of course. They had good business sense, but they had something even more important than that—a sterling reputation.
She found Robb Stark shortly after she arrived to capitalize on some of that good reputation as the press started taking pictures. "Mr. Stark."
"Mrs. Lannister." Robb glanced at her. "Wine?"
"Later," Cersei said. "Trying to keep a cool head for now. Planning to count how many people ask me prying questions about my father's resignation. I don't want to lose track."
"They're still on about that, are they?"
"Oh they will always be on about that," Cersei said. "Until he dies, likely. And then they'll ask if his ghost plans to return to the company."
Robb laughed once, shaking his head. "Well, I'm glad you're here. I wanted to discuss something with you. Something Bran got wind of that could mean something for us in the coming months."
"Ah yes, Brandon," Cersei said. "What has he seen with that bird's eye view of his?"
"You remember the Targaryen family I'm guessing?" Robb asked.
"Of course I do," Cersei said. "Their business fell apart when I was young. Then they fled overseas to avoid the legal consequences."
"Well, apparently a daughter of the Targaryen family has a thriving business overseas and she's looking to expand," Robb said. "Could be a problem for us."
"I see," Cersei said. "Well, she'll have a hard time overcoming her family's reputation. But if she already has strong international connections, she'll be one to watch." She glanced at him. "We'll schedule a meeting this week to talk it over in more detail. We don't want this tip to get out in the middle of a crowd."
"Fair enough," Robb said. "Later this week then. I'll be in touch." He inclined his head. "Enjoy the party."
Cersei gave him a nod. Reflexively, she started to reach for another drink, but she stopped herself with a huff.
Later, later, she thought. You've got a long way yet to go.
Then she put on a smile and dove back into the sea of businessmen and investors.
Jaime still didn't much like these galas. He came at the behest of Cersei—because he needed to represent the family—and Tyrion—who simply desperately wanted the company. But he knew he would be fielding questions from people all night, once again, about whether or not he intended on returning to the family business.
But even those questioning eyes could not dampen his mood tonight—not when he had tomorrow to look forward to. He was absolutely giddy thinking about it and he sometimes caught himself smiling for no reason at all.
"All right," Tyrion said, coming up beside him. "You're far too cheerful for this gala. Who are you and what have you done with my brother?"
"Not a thing," Jaime said.
"You complained all week about how you'd rather be on shift with Brienne and Jon," Tyrion said. "So what has you so smiley."
"Nothing to do with the party," Jaime said. "I'm just…thinking about the future."
Tyrion eyed him. "Still not convinced you aren't a Faceless Man."
"I don't think the Faceless men would choose to impersonate me," Jaime said. "They'd have a hard time echoing my missing hand."
"Unless they cut off a man's hand especially for the act," Tyrion said.
"They couldn't possibly duplicate my handsome face."
"Ah. I suppose that's true." Tyrion sighed. "So. What's happening in the future?"
"Well. I'm going out with Brienne tomorrow," Jaime said.
"Fair enough. Brienne is lovely," Tyrion said.
"And I'm going to give her something."
"What's that?"
Jaime's hand dipped into his pocket, and he pulled out a small box, flicking open the lid when he was sure no one was looking. It gave Tyrion just the briefest glance of the ring inside.
Tyrion's eyes widened and he looked from the ring to Jaime. "No…is that real?"
"It's real."
"Jaime." Tyrion broke out into a grin. "Well, fuck…isn't that something."
"Yes. To be honest, the only thing getting me through tonight," Jaime said.
"Have you told anyone else yet?"
"No. You're the first."
"Good. I was going to be offended if you gave me another answer." Tyrion clapped him on the shoulder. "I'm happy for you. You deserve this after the seven hells of the last few years."
"It was hell at points," Jaime said. "But I suppose in the end, I can't be too angry. It brought me closer to Brienne."
"Exactly the kind of sappy talk I'd expect from a man in love," Tyrion said. "Well, whatever it takes to get you through the night I suppose." He winked. "But still, try not to smile too much. They'll see you as vulnerable."
"You smile all the time," Jaime reminded him.
"Yes. Because I'm lulling them into a false sense of security before I strike," Tyrion said.
Jaime grinned. "The family business suits you, little brother."
"It does, doesn't it?" Tyrion adjusted his collar. "I owe it all to father. Spiting him by being good at my job keeps me going."
"Whatever it takes to get you through the night," Jaime said, raising his wine glass. "Cheers."
"Cheers," Tyrion echoed. "To the future."
"To the future."
Catelyn was learning to tolerate the autumn again. The passing of one autumn without any disasters whatsoever had helped. And thus far, the second autumn was on track to do the same. Thus, she was learning to tolerate the Charity Galas again as well.
It was nice to see almost all her children gathered here. Robb always attended but both her girls being here made her happy. Rickon decided to come for at least a few hours before running off with his friends. Even Bran, against all odds, decided to make an entrance.
"I'm going to test the disability access of this old castle," Bran said dryly when she asked if he was sure he wanted to go. "Taking one for the team."
Still, it was a big step for him to want to venture out during a hugely public event like this. She had a feeling he had other hidden motivations related to his three eyed raven alias. But after Bran's skills had saved their family multiple times, she had no plans on intervening. Just as long as he didn't put himself in danger again. That was the only rule.
Only Jon hadn't been able to make it tonight, but Catelyn knew he wasn't upset about that. He'd prefer to work a night shift than endure these crowds after all.
She relaxed back in her chair, scanning the room. It made her feel at peace to be able to see most of her children in the same room. They couldn't get into any trouble without her knowing that way.
There was a soft clink and a glass of bourbon appeared on the table beside her. She smiled softly. She did not have to look up to know who it was.
"Mr. Lannister."
"Mrs. Stark," Tywin replied. "Enjoying the party?"
"It's certainly not the worst Charity Gala I've attended," Catelyn said.
"No, I imagine not," Tywin said. "Considering you did get shot at one of them."
"I did, didn't I?"
"Indeed." His hand rested on her back for just a moment longer than was proper before he took a seat beside her. It wasn't so strange anymore to see a Stark and Lannister conversing. But they still were careful not to give the press any fodder for the tabloids.
"How are you enjoying the party?" Catelyn asked. "Have you had to field too many questions?"
"Less than last year. Still several. But the investors are beginning to realize that the Lannister Corporation isn't going anywhere," Tywin said.
"Good," Catelyn said. "I'm sure they'll settle more each year."
"And maybe by the time I'm on death's door they'll finally have quieted," Tywin mused.
Catelyn inclined her head. "Well let's hope that's a long way off."
"Indeed," Tywin said. She felt his hand rest on hers under the tablecloth. "Will you be by after the gala?"
"If I can make the time," Catelyn said. "What's the occasion?"
"Business."
"You're retired, Tywin."
"Ah, that's right." He glanced at her. "Well?"
Catelyn fought a smile, entwining her fingers in his for a moment. "I'll be there."
He nodded once, letting his hand slip away. It was a little game they played at public events. Sneaking small gestures of affection where no one could see. Perhaps their families knew, but no one else was entitled to know a thing.
They had both wondered in the first few months if it was just a passing infatuation. The sort of thing that would pass out of their systems. But two years later…well they still enjoyed each other's company. And Catelyn quite liked what retirement had done to Tywin. He'd had trouble relinquishing control in the beginning, but he was learning to relax a bit. Especially when he was with her.
They were a strange pair. One that should not work at all on paper, considering their history. And yet ever since the first drink he offered her at her worst moment—their fates had entwined.
Catelyn was done fighting that current. She was done fighting at all. She had earned a bit of rest and happiness.
"You know," Sansa said as she glanced across the room at where her mother and Tywin Lannister were sitting, talking in low voices. "I'm actually surprised it took us as long as it did to notice them."
"Speak for yourself," Bran said, glancing up from his phone. "I was one of the first to find out."
She glanced at him. "You never told us how."
"And I never will. Trade secrets," Bran said.
Sansa laughed. Her mother and Tywin never really announced it to the group. That wasn't their way. Rather the news had made its way slowly through both of their families, one person at a time.
Tyrion was, apparently, the first to find out (though since Bran was quiet on when he found out, that claim was in question). He accidentally let the news slip to Jaime when he was drunk. Meanwhile, beside Bran, Sansa was the first of the Starks to notice the…energy between the pair. She simply asked her mother about it and her mother admitted the relationship with little fight.
"It's not that we're hiding it from everyone," Catelyn had told her. "Just trying to find the right time."
Sansa had no idea when Cersei found out, but it was sometime after her. All she knew was during a party once, Sansa caught the woman observing the two while drinking a glass of wine far too fast. Ever since she seemed keen to avoid the topic and pretend that the relationship did not exist at all.
Rickon found out because Sansa let something slip to Bran while he was walking by their room. And Jon found out because Ygritte asked how long his aunt had been seeing Tywin Lannister after seeing them interact for all of five minutes. Myrcella and Tommen found out from either their uncles or their mother. Sansa had forgotten who at this point.
In the end, it had become a question of who would be the last to know—Arya or Robb. And who would have the bigger reaction.
They started a betting pool about it. First just Tyrion and Bran were in on it, but they eventually roped in Sansa, Rickon, Jon. Even Jaime and Myrcella. There were many spirited discussions on a group text message chain about who was more likely to figure it out.
Sansa, Bran, Myrcella and Jon were sure Arya would find out first. The Lannister brothers and Rickon had their money on Robb.
"Arya has spent more time around my father than most of you," Tyrion pointed out. "If she hasn't figured it out yet, she never will."
"It will click for her," Sansa had insisted. "Robb is completely clueless. But I bet Arya knows in the back of her mind. She's just in complete denial."
"She's right," Bran agreed. "All it takes is one puzzle piece and she'll know. Robb hasn't even started the puzzle."
It turned out Sansa and Bran were right. Myrcella was the only one present for the moment, unfortunately. Arya had run into her mother at the Lannister manor coming out of Tywin's office. Catelyn gave a few vague excuses before telling Arya to be home for dinner. Myrcella described the moment of realization as 'Arya speed running the five stages of grief in her mind'. And by the time Tywin had emerged from the office, the question just spilled out.
"Are you…seeing my mother?"
"Yes," Tywin responded simply, never one to beat around the bush.
"How… How long exactly?"
"Do you truly want the answer to that question, Arya?"
Arya thought for a long moment before she said. "No. No, I really don't."
Myrcella was lambasted in the text chain for not capturing the moment on film. Tyrion claimed she could be lying to skew the results in her favor. But ultimately, money changed hands as they other side admitted defeat.
Catelyn was the one to tell Robb just a week later. Now that everyone knew, there was no point in keeping it from him anymore. He took it…well he didn't take it well, but he accepted it eventually.
"At least, I wasn't the last to know," Rickon spoke up, resting his chin on the table.
"No," Bran said. "But no one was waiting with bated breath to see how you'd react."
"It's true. I didn't really mind," Rickon said. "I know our family had beef with the Lannisters but I was like…ten when all of that was happening."
"True," Sansa said. "I'm glad everyone knows now. I don't like having secrets in our family."
She felt a hand rest briefly on her back, fingers tracing over her bare neck. "Lovely to see you tonight, Sansa," Margaery Tyrell's voice came somewhere close behind her, sending a delighted shiver up Sansa's spine.
"Good to see you too, Margaery," she murmured.
"Will you be coming to the gathering at my house after this gala?" Margaery asked innocently.
Sansa nodded once. "Mm hmm. I think so."
Margaery smiled brightly. "Lovely. Enjoy the gala."
Then she continued on.
"Our family seems to have a thing for secret relationships," Bran observed casually.
Sansa flicked him on the arm. "Listen. After all the press has done to us in the past few years, our relationships are none of their business."
"I agree," Bran said. "That's why I make sure the press doesn't get anywhere near it."
Sansa gave Bran a look. "Bran. Have you been blackmailing reporters?"
"I have done nothing," Bran said simply. "Nothing that you can prove anyway."
"Is that why so few reporters have been coming around our house lately," Rickon said.
"I don't know, and I have no opinion," Bran said.
Sansa smiled a little, sitting back in her seat. After enduring threats from all sides, the Starks were naturally protective of each other. And that protectiveness extended to all of their loved ones which meant…well the Lannisters were in that circle.
It was strange, but she didn't mind it. She was just glad to see her family happy and whole again. Whole as it was ever going to be without her father.
They were all going to work hard to make sure it stayed that way.
Arya spent much of the night at Myrcella's side and Myrcella joked it was like having her as a bodyguard again.
"Except this time, you're in a very pretty dress," Myrcella said.
"Sansa picked it out," Arya said. "I could still fight someone off in it though."
"Oh, I know," Myrcella laughed, looping her arm in hers. They were making a round of the halls around the main room to get away from the crowds for a bit. Arya had endured them for a few hours, but she needed a few breaks from the stares and Myrcella was happy to provide that. "It's good to have you here as you though."
"It's good to be here," Arya said. "Though only because I have you to help me suffer through it."
"I'm always there for that," Myrcella said. She glanced around for a moment before giving Arya a kiss on the cheek. "And I always will be."
"I know." Arya squeezed her hand.
They rounded a corner and found a large gathering of people at the other end of the hall. Arya identified them quickly as reporters and she groaned.
"Gods, not now. They'll never let me past if they see me."
"Then they won't see you." Myrcella said, stepping away from her with a smile. "I'll distract them. You make your escape, okay?"
"I love you," Arya said seriously.
"Love you too." Myrcella winked and approached the crowd as Arya ducked into the shadows.
She made her way along the halls until she found her way to one of the balconies. She stepped out into the open and took a deep breath of the crisp autumn air. It cleared her head. Reminded her she was lucky to be here.
Every day…every day she lived as Arya Stark since it all ended had been a gift. It was something she thought she'd never get back and she was ever grateful for it.
"Taking a break from the crowds?"
Tywin Lannister's voice came from behind her. She smiled glancing over her shoulder. "I'm assuming you're doing the same."
"Indeed." He approached the edge of the balcony, standing at the railing with her. "You probably only need to last another hour before you can make an acceptable exit."
"So I'm guessing jumping over this railing isn't acceptable?"
"No. I'd say not." He glanced down at her. "Are your studies going well?"
"Yeah. Busy but…I'm enjoying it," Arya said. "It took a bit to adjust to going to school again. But I think I'm finally used to it. I'm practiced at going without sleep too."
"I'm not sure that's a good thing," Tywin said.
"As if you had a regular sleep schedule while you were working." She stretched. "It's just a shame that our families are working together, you know?"
"And why is that a shame?" Tywin asked.
"Well, I hoped to be your rival in business one day," Arya said. "And now I can't. Very disappointing."
"I'm also retired," Tywin said. "Which is an additional problem."
"I know. Very frustrating," Arya said.
Tywin's mouth twitched. "I'm sure you'll find another worthy rival to occupy your time."
"Here's hoping." Arya leaned over the railing. "It's strange…that it's been two years."
"It has."
"Do you still look over your shoulder," Arya murmured. "Wondering if the Iron Bank is going to keep their promise."
"Every day," Tywin said.
"Me too." She glanced up at him. "Think that will ever go away? Or is it sort of like grief and…you just get used to it?"
"I'm not sure," Tywin said. "We'll have to wait and see."
"Wait and see," Arya repeated. "Yeah. That sounds good." She straightened, slapping her cheeks a few times. "All right. I'm ready to dive back into the chaos. Are you coming?"
"I'll be right behind you," Tywin promised.
Arya smiled. Then she returned to the party. To her family. And to the uncertain future stretched out before her.