A/N: I'm back! I really thought I was going to be late today since I hadn't started the chapter. But I had a burst of productivity, so here we are! Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 45: Tentative Normalcy

There were times that Arya's life felt almost normal. Three months after the incident with the Waif and she was sitting in the Stark family room with Sansa and Myrcella, passing a bowl of slightly burnt popcorn (courtesy of Rickon) between them. This was the sort of strange scene that would have been impossible less than a year ago.

Of course, she could only be at the Stark house without suspicion because she was still posing as Myrcella's bodyguard. And their conversation often strayed to the continued investigation into the identity of the puppet master behind the deaths of multiple of their family members.

But other than that. Very normal.

Truth be told, the investigation was slow going and they kept meeting with dead end after dead end. Much of their speculation about the puppet master was just that—speculation.

The very first of their suspects had been Renly himself. He had been doing very well for himself over the past few months since he came into power at the Baratheon company. But they quickly dismissed that idea since Renly did not seem the type to commit murder to change his position. He would have done that long ago otherwise.

Clearly the culprit was someone who benefited from Renly being in power. That suggested the Tyrells. But Tywin had spoken with Olenna plenty of times about events, asking subtle questions here and there in her meetings. She was inscrutable.

"She's certainly benefiting from the incident," he had told Arya. "But I don't think she engineered it. She has no reason to go after the Starks for one thing. The Starks and the Tyrells have never been in direct competition."

That was true enough. Olenna had no reason to go after Jon Arryn either. The only lead on that front was Arya's Aunt Lysa. She had been the one to suggest that Jon Arryn was, indeed, murdered. But she had suspected the Lannisters, and recent events had effectively ruled them out as culprits.

Arya's mother had returned to her aunt to ask further questions. To try to drag any more clues about Jon Arryn's death from her that might give the culprit away. But Aunt Lysa was, as usual, very unhelpful. She didn't crave justice like the rest of them. She'd rather hide away with her son and keep on living.

And then there were the sex workers. The ones used to blackmail Joffrey and many other members of the elite in Westeros. Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth had continued to investigate that while Jon ran interference on anyone else at the Watch asking questions. But understandably, few sex workers wanted to talk to the police. The legality of their work was highly questionable due to the laws about prostitution in Westeros. Who would want to talk to a cop?

The only woman they had been able to speak with was Shae, Tyrion's companion. She knew about the workers marked with birds at the very least. Said she was friends with a few of them. But she didn't know their boss. They apparently kept to the shadows. And even if they did find their boss, they might not be the ultimate puppet master. Just another cog in the endless machine. But at the very least, Shae had promised to find someone who might talk to them.

Bran too, it seemed, had hit a dead end. A few months ago, he thought he had something big. A contact. He wouldn't say who. But that contact had been very tight lipped and difficult so Bran was playing a bit of a waiting game with them.

In the midst of this mess of an investigation, it was crucial that they appear normal. Almost as if they were moving on from the whole affair. Cersei had actually been quite helpful in that. She gave the press a few tearful interviews about her dead eldest son. Saying that she 'hadn't known what was happening with him until it was too late'. It gave the impression that she believed he had killed Stannis and then killed himself to escape his guilt.

Arya knew she must loathe every moment of the interviews. But they might do their part to relax the culprit. Make them think they had gotten away with it.

And of course, Arya kept up her fake name and fake job of guarding Myrcella. That was considerably less difficult. She still had to stay at the Lannister manor, but Myrcella took a sudden interest in frequently visiting her dear old school friend Sansa. And naturally she needed her bodyguard along for the visit. So Arya got to see her family often.

And of course…guarding Myrcella wasn't a problem. Especially since the first kiss. There had been more since then, stolen in hallways and stairways and the safety of Myrcella's room. All in secret of course. Arya didn't want to imagine what Cersei would do if she found out. But kissing Myrcella was just one more thing that gave her life that disturbing sense of normalcy.

"How have things been at the Lannister manor?" Sansa asked, plucking a less burnt piece of popcorn from the bowl. "Calming down at all?"

"As calm as they ever are," Myrcella said. "My grandfather and mother are swamped at work. Mom is drinking a lot… but I don't blame her for it. She hates dealing with the press more than anything. And having to talk about Joffrey is even worse." She exhaled. "I guess I shouldn't be telling you about her drinking."

"I would have mentioned it if you didn't," Arya said. "She doesn't hate my existence at least. She's got another nebulous person to hate right now so I'm more…an inconvenience."

"A very cute inconvenience," Myrcella said casually.

Arya's face heated. "I don't think your mother thinks I'm cute."

"Oh right. That's me." Myrcella stood, smoothing down her shirt. "I have to go to the bathroom. Be right back!"

Arya nodded once, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. She could feel Sansa's smirk even though she was looking away.

"So," Sansa said. "How's that going?"

"Fine," Arya said. "It's going fine it just…well it feels strange. I've never had a girlfriend before. Or a boyfriend. Or anything." She could feel her face radiating heat and she cupped her own cheeks. "She's great though."

"She seems great," Sansa said. "Considering how much you blush every time you talk to her."

Arya tossed a pillow at Sansa's head. "Shut up. I'm not used to this."

"I know, I know," Sansa said. "Who else knows? Besides me."

"Tommen," Arya said. "And Bran, I think. I haven't told him, but he knows everything, so I just assume."

"You haven't told mom yet then," Sansa asked.

"No," Arya said. "It's not that I think she'd be…bad about it. She's already handled the 'I trained to be an assassin for three years' thing extraordinarily well. But… I don't know. There hasn't been a good moment."

"I get it," Sansa said. "You've already given her a lot to absorb. Bringing home your first girlfriend is a lot."

"Especially since she's half Lannister," Arya said.

"Well…you're not the first in the family to do that," Sansa said. "You picked a better half Lannister."

"True," Arya said with a little smile. "It's also just…I know Westeros has been getting better about the whole thing but for people in prominent families its still a little…taboo, right?"

"It is," Sansa agreed. "The tabloids used to speculate about Margaery all the time before she got married. They still do a little bit. I think it's a little harder on eldest daughters."

"So it won't be as hard for me as it will be for Myrcella then," Arya said.

Sansa shrugged. "I wouldn't think about that just yet. You two don't have to tell anyone you don't want to. And so long as we're in the middle of a secret murder investigation, there are bigger problems to worry about."

Arya laughed a little. One of the dogs—Greywind—loped through the room, ball in his mouth and dropped it in her lap. She threw it across the room and watched him scramble into the hallway. "How is Robb doing?"

"Busy at work," Sansa said. "He and mom both. I think we would have solved this already if so many of the people involved weren't running giant companies."

"True," Arya said. "We aren't."

"We aren't," Sansa said. "Maybe I will one day. Or at least…maybe I'll be helping."

Arya cocked her head to the side. "You're interested in the business?"

"I'm not sure. But I've been thinking about finally going to school," Sansa said. "Obviously the stuff with dad and you happened just as I was finishing high school. Tanked my grades badly. But even with that, my GPA is salvageable. I just…haven't been able to find the motivation until now."

"You should do it," Arya said. "You're smart. You're good with people. Those are two things that do well in the business world."

Sansa smiled. "What about you? Once you can start going as Arya again…do you think you'll go back to school?"

Arya wasn't sure. She was interested in the business. At the very least she liked passing the little tests Tywin Lannister gave her. She always did decently well in school, but especially in math. And she knew how to deal with people. She only needed to put on the right face.

"I hadn't thought of the after," she said at last. "I didn't think there would be an after…until recently."

Sansa shifted closer to her on the couch, resting a hand on her shoulder. "I know."

At that moment, Myrcella returned, nudging Arya over so she could sit beside her. She grasped Arya's hand in her own and Arya let her, a little smile on her face.

There was still a lot of work to do…but these tastes of normalcy were welcome.

"I have something for you," Tyrion said at once when Jaime picked up the phone. "But you're going to have to play it extremely cool."

Jaime exhaled, sitting back in his chair. "You are going to have to be more specific."

"Being specific over phones is dangerous, brother. Don't you know that?" Tyrion asked. "Shae has a friend for you to talk to."

Jaime blinked. Oh. Oh. He sat up at once, trying not to let too much excitement show in his voice. "Great. What time?"

"Cooler than that, Jaime," Tyrion said.

Jaime exhaled. "Sorry, Tyrion. What time shall we schedule this unimportant and boring meeting?"

Tyrion laughed once. "Come to my place for dinner. Just you though. For obvious reasons, don't bring your friend Brienne. Or Jon."

"Friends is a generous term for Jon and me," Jaime said.

"But not for you and Brienne. All right. Noted," Tyrion said. Jaime could here the grin in his voice.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, nothing. It's good to see you have friends."

Jaime rolled his eyes. "I'll see you tonight, Tyrion."

"See you tonight!"

He hung up the phone with a sigh. It was a relief to have a lead like this. He and Brienne had been struggling to find more information on the dead sex workers. Their last big break was a few months ago when they dug up the grave of "Arya Stark" and confirmed that the girl buried there was one of the missing prostitutes. And, as they suspected, she had a winged tattoo.

If nothing else, it confirmed that the boss of these particular sex workers was working in conjunction with the corrupt police and the puppet master behind the deaths of the CEOs. It would make a good piece of evidence once they went to court. But they had to keep it quiet. They covered the grave again and put the remains of the pour soul on ice.

They only disturbed her body at the strange request of Bran, when he asked them to see if there was any evidence of Long Night in her system. Qyburn had checked and found that yes, there was. And when Jaime asked Bran what that meant, the boy simply said: "I'm not sure yet" and hung up the phone.

So not much progress since then. But maybe Shae's friend would be able to help.

Jaime had been to Tyrion's apartment plenty of times. He had one of the best views in the city and it proved that even after their father had cut him off, he didn't need his help. His brother always knew how to do well for himself. Apparently, he was very good at investing in the right people.

Tyrion met him at the door and ushered him inside, offering a drink. Jaime accepted. He had a feeling he'd need it.

"Shae and her friend are in the living room," Tyrion said. "I've been asked to tell you to keep questions short and gentle. And if she refuses to answer, you're not allowed to press."

"Right," Jaime said. "I'm guessing getting Shae's friend here took some convincing."

"Quite a bit," Tyrion said. "But she's lost a lot of friends. Maybe she wants to see their deaths mean something."

Two women sat in the living room. Shae and her nameless friend. The woman had pale golden hair which fell around her shoulders in waves. She was a beauty, her complexion marred only by a bruise at her jaw—a present from a client, he suspected. She perched on the edge of the couch, tense, as if she planned to flee at any moment.

She glanced up when Jaime entered the room, her hand closing around Shae's. He gave her a gentle smile.

"My name is Jaime."

"I know who you are," the woman said. She glanced at Shae. "You're sure he's not a cop?"

"He's not," Shae said.

"He was though. Why'd he stop?" the woman asked.

"Lost a hand," Jaime said, extending his left arm. "I hope you don't mind if I shake with the left."

She studied him closely before accepting the hand. "My name is Pearl."

"It's nice to meet you, Pearl," Jaime said. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

"A favor for Shae," Pearl said. "She's helped me more than once when I was in a bad place." She tugged at a curl. "Go one, ask your questions. I'll answer what I can."

"My interest is mainly in your boss," Jaime said. "The one who gives you your jobs. Who are they?"

"Don't know," she said. "None of us do. He reached out to all of us anonymously. Gives us the jobs anonymously too. But the jobs he finds for us pay way more than the average, and he let's us keep most of it."

"And these jobs," Jaime said. "Do you do more than the obvious?"

"Depends on what he asks for," she said. "Pictures sometimes. Information. Always on big shot businessmen and politicians." She swallowed hard. "See, none of us thought much of it. We didn't feel bad either. Most of these men were doing terrible things. They used people like us for fun. They had more money than any of us would ever see. So what's a little blackmail?"

"But then the murders started," Jaime murmured.

Pearl's eyes welled up with tears and Shae shot him a dirty look. He held up his hand in apology.

"I'm sorry. Go on."

"It was suppose to be safer," Pearl said. "The job was supposed to give us protection. And it did at first. More money. More stability. But then he started throwing some of us under the bus. And when others tried to leave, to get out of the business, well they ended up dead too. Whoever this man is, he has a lot of power. A lot of connections." She shrugged helplessly. "So, we're trapped. We have to do what he says."

"I'm sorry," Jaime said. "You keep saying 'he'. You're sure it's a man?"

She shrugged. "It usually is, isn't it?"

He supposed that was true. "Any other clues you have as to his identity?"

"Not much," she said. "Just that he must be important. That's why he keeps anonymous. Doesn't want anyone to trace him back to us. It'd be illegal." She sniffed. "He's someone who needs the blackmail. Maybe someone from the press."

"Or someone in business," Jaime said.

"We could follow the blackmail trail," Tyrion theorized. "See if there's one person who always seems to win out."

"It'd take a lot of work. There's a lot of snakes in this town." He glanced at Pearl. "How did he contact you? Do you have an email address?"

"No," Pearl said. "The jobs always came from different places. Phone, email. Nothing consistent. We'd get the job and instructions for where to send the information. But I think he did a lot of work to scramble it."

"Perhaps our friend Bran will be able to unscramble it," Tyrion said.

"Can you give us the information from your last job?" Jaime asked. "It may be a throw away, but it's something."

Pearl seemed to freeze. "If you used it though…it might trace back to me."

"Nothing is going to trace back to you," Jaime said.

"You can't promise that," Pearl said. "It traced back to all of them. Why should I trust you?"

It was a good question. One that he couldn't answer. She had every reason to distrust him. He was a Lannister after all. Someone important in King's Landing. But if she got caught and killed, she would just be a few lines in the paper.

"I'll let you think about it," Jaime said. "And if you feel safe enough to give us information, pass it to Shae." He stood. "We don't want to put you in danger, Pearl. But this was helpful. Thank you."

She nodded once, dropping her gaze. Shae wrapped an arm around her, murmuring words of comfort as Jaime moved into the kitchen.

"Was it helpful?" Tyrion asked.

"Well, it was something," Jaime said. "It tells us more than ever that their boss isn't a common pimp. I think it's someone in the business world. Someone who's trying to rearrange the board to capitalize off a little tragedy." He glanced at Tyrion. "How involved are you in all of this stuff. Business."

"Quite a bit," Tyrion said. "But I invest more in startups. New businesses trying to make it in Westeros." He paused, his brow furrowing. Then he snapped his fingers. "Which is difficult with the old guard at the gates."

"And a lot of the old guard have died lately," Jaime said.

"Yes, they have," Tyrion said. "I'll look into some of my new projects. See if there are any leads."

"Thank you," Jaime said. "For this and for finding this girl."

"Thank Shae for that one," Tyrion said. "But you all should have brought me in on this mystery much earlier." He winked. "I'd have solved it by now."

"Sure you would, little brother," Jaime said. He just hoped they solved it soon. Before more dead women started turning up in the river. And before this puppet master decided to shake up the board again.

Sansa had been to the library in a long time and, quite frankly, she wasn't sure where to start. She'd need to pass a test to get into any sort of business school and most of the skills she learned a few years ago had turned to dust in her brain from all the stress.

Just the idea of studying again filled her with anxiety. It reminded of her sharp downward spiral of a few years ago. But if she was going to get her life together, she would just have to push past that.

She steeled herself and made her way deeper into the library. Found a few basic books that would give her a starting point. Then she found a secluded table and sat down to begin working.

A soft click of a camera disturbed her. Her shoulders hitched and a flash of annoyance went through her as she looked around. Paparazzi? Here of all places? Surely a picture of her at the library would be boring material.

But the camera, as it turned out, wasn't pointed toward her. It was pointed down one of the aisles of books where Margaery Tyrell stood.

She was stunning as always. Not a hair out of place. But there was an exhaustion, a frustration on her face as she leaned against the bookshelf. She wasn't glaring at the camera. She couldn't afford to let herself look angry for the papers. But the man was clearly trying to catch her in some sort of state of distress.

Anger bubbled through Sansa. She slammed her book closed and marched over to the man, putting herself squarely between him and Margaery.

"Fuck off. It's a library. Go take pictures of someone who wants you there."

The sudden venom of her tone made the man shirk back. She realized she was brandishing her book like a weapon. That would make a shot for his papers. But she didn't care. She didn't care what they printed about her anymore.

He retreated at once. She watched to make sure he scurried all the way to the door. For a moment he paused like he might try to get another shot. But when he made eye contact with Sansa, he continued on his way.

"My hero," Margaery sighed. "I ducked in here hoping they might give up the chase. But that one was dedicated."

"It's fine," Sansa said. "I dealt with my fair share of them."

"You did, didn't you?" Margaery said. "They've usually been kind to me over the years. No paper wants to tangle with my grandmother. They still don't but…my disaster of a wedding still makes good news on a slow day I suppose."

"Right," Sansa said. "How are you doing? After that."

"Well, I'm not the one who lost a brother," Margaery said.

"No. But still," Sansa said. "You already didn't seem thrilled about the whole thing so—" She stopped herself when Margaery raised an eyebrow, pressing a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to—"

"No. You're right," Margaery said. "What gave me away? Was it the wine you caught me drinking?"

Sansa shrugged. "It's none of my business."

"Maybe not." Margaery lowered her voice. "The marriage was a good move for my family. That's all. And a good move for Renly. A business transaction. It used to be very common a few decades ago."

"Still," Sansa said. "I'm sorry."

"I don't mind," Margaery said. "It was the best possible option. The other options…would have made much more trouble for my family. For our image."

"Your family's image shouldn't be your responsibility," Sansa said.

Margaery smiled, stepping closer to her. "Shouldn't be. But it is." She leaned in a bit and Sansa was suddenly very aware of her proximity. Her breath coasting over her face. "Sometimes…I think about ruining it all. What about you?"

"I…" Sansa swallowed hard. "I already damaged my family's image once."

"That's right. You fell off your pedestal." Margaery's green eyes glimmered. "How's the view from down there?"

"Better than yours I think," Sansa said.

Margaery smiled. Leaned just a little closer. Then leaned back. "Well…I need to be going. Busy day." She winked. "Good luck with your studies, Sansa." Then she flounced away.

Sansa licked her lips. She could almost feel Margaery's breath there. Had she…had she almost…No. She was married. And even if it wasn't a love match, someone of Margaery's status wouldn't risk…

She released a shaky breath, adjusting the strap of her bag as she turned to go back to her seat. Something moved in the corner of her eye, and the hair on the back of her neck prickled. More press? She whipped around but found only a quiet library with a few studious occupants.

She swallowed hard and slowly returned to her table. But she couldn't shake that feeling. The feeling of being watched.

A/N: Next time we'll check in on the investigations of some of the other characters, including Jon, Catelyn and others. Still a while to go for them to solve this mystery~~ As always, review, subscribe and I'll see you next time!