A/N: What's up. Its your girl Kallypso, very late with this chapter. I mean at this point, all I can promise week to week is to get the chapter out within the timeframe of Thursday lol. Anyway, enjoy some Braime content. And Catelyn and Tywin content. And a continue deepening of the mystery. Hope you guys like it!

Chapter 49: The Spider's Web

Jaime's whole body was aching when he woke. But of course, he felt fortunate to wake up at all. An explosion of that sort could have been much worse. If he had gone further into the apartment to investigate—well, he would be dead.

He blinked a few times, shifting in bed as he became aware of his surroundings. A different sort of beeping to his right. A heart monitor. That combined with the too-clean smell…he knew he was in a hospital.

Gods, I hate hospitals.

He glanced to the right and saw that he was not alone. Brienne sat in a chair beside his bed, dozing. He was relieved to see her all right. He'd heard her voice before he went unconscious, but still he worried she might have been injured. And he didn't want to see her in a hospital bed ever again.

"Keeping watch over me?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

Her head jerked up and a relieved smile spread over her face. "You're all right."

"So are you," he said.

"Well, that was never the real question," Brienne said. "How are you feeling?"

"Oh. Right as rain. Think I might go for a jog," Jaime said, shifting in bed.

She sighed. "Well, you're better than you might have been. Some burns on your back. A few cracked ribs. But nothing too serious."

"That's a relief to hear," he said. "Is my pretty face all right?"

"Yes, your pretty face is just fine, Jaime," Brienne said, rolling her eyes. "Bit bruised, but it will recover."

"That is a relief to hear," he said. "Kiss it better for me, Tarth?"

The words were out of his mouth before he fully registered them. His tone was teasing and yet…he wasn't fully joking.

Brienne's face went red as a tomato and she glanced away. "I…don't think that's a legitimate medical treatment."

"Sure it is," Jaime said, grinning so she wouldn't notice the heat rising to his own face. "It'd make me feel better."

She rolled her eyes, leaning over him a bit. "Fine." She kissed his forehead, just a short little peck. "Better?"

"Almost," he murmured. And the teasing tone melted away from his voice. "Can you…try one more time?"

She stared at him for a long moment, her bright blue eyes wide and confused. "You…shouldn't," her voice was hoarse. "You shouldn't joke about that sort of thing, Jaime."

"I'm not," he said, and he prayed that she would believe him.

Evidently, she did. Because she stooped and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He kissed her in return, his remaining hand lifting to cup her cheek. And it was only then that he realized he'd wanted this for a while. Every pang he jealousy he felt about her working with other officers or moving on from a broken down man like him…it wasn't just about his desire to have his old job back. It was about her too. It had been about her for a long time.

She broke the kiss looking even redder than before. Her gaze dropped to the thin hospital sheets. "How…was that?"

"Perfect," he said softly. "It was perfect." He grinned. "Outside me being in a hospital bed after an explosion obviously."

"Yes, that wasn't how I pictured my first kiss going either," Brienne said.

Jaime's head tilted to the side. "First…first kiss?"

Brienne swallowed hard, straightening and crossing her arms over her chest. "Yes, Jaime. Not a lot of men find women like me attracted. I've never…" Her brow knit together as embarrassment crossed her face. "You know why. You heard the comments from the other officers. You made some of the comments."

"I know. I'm sorry," Jaime said softly. "I was an idiot. I guess I just…I didn't really see you back then, Brienne. But now that I do…" he exhaled. "All right, I'm not doing well here. I'm bad at…"

What? Confessing my real feelings? Being genuine? Stringing words together in a complete sentence? What am I bad at?

"This," he finished lamely.

"Why?" she asked softly. "Women always look at you when you walk into a room. Women that are much better looking than me. I've seen you charm them before. You don't seem to be bad this with them."

"Because I don't care about any of them," Jaime said. "I care about you. So much that my chest hurts. So much that…you being okay was my first thought when I woke up. When you got shot a few months back I started to realize. But then I just…I don't know, closed the door on my feelings."

"Why?" she asked.

"Because you deserve better than me," Jaime said simply. "You're a better person by a long shot. You deserve much better."

"Maybe," she said. "But…well no one else is offering."

"Ah, I see," he gave a little smile. "So I'm a last resort then? The man you'll settle for?"

"Oh, gods, do you ever stop being sarcastic, Lannister?"

"Only when I'm asleep," he said. "But…I did mean it. What I said about you. I…I care about you. Not just as a friend. If you believe nothing else…believe that. Please."

His voice sounded almost pathetic to his own ears. But it softened Brienne's expression. She leaned down, blessing him with one more kiss. And he cherished the feeling of her lips on his.

"I do believe you," she murmured when she pulled back. "I don't understand you…but I believe you."

"That's a start," Jaime said, toying with a few strands of her pale blonde hair.

Brienne straightened, smoothing down her shirt. "I think your father is somewhere close. I'll tell him you woke up. He was furious when he heard about the explosion."

"I'll bet he was," Jaime said. "I hope you didn't take too much of that fury."

"Don't worry about me. I can handle him," Brienne said.

"Yes, you can," Jaime said. Brienne was tough as nails. Tough enough to handle even his father if necessary. It was one of the things he liked so much about her.

She flashed him a crooked smile then ducked from the room. And despite the pain and his body and the memory of the explosion and everything else going wrong right now…Jaime felt a little burst of hope in his chest. That when all of this was over, and things went back to normal…he might have someone to make his "normal" a little brighter.

When Tyrion called Bran a few days after their meeting, Bran nearly dropped his phone in his haste to answer it. He tried not to sound too eager as he held the phone to his ear.

"Well?"

"The Spider got back to me," Tyrion said. "He told me that he can find where your sister is being held. And what he wants in return for it."

"And what does he want?"

"Not something you can give," Tyrion said. "He wants information about the Faceless men and a way to contact them."

Bran blinked. "Oh."

"According to him, the Faceless men are notoriously difficult to pin down. That's why they're a conspiracy theory I suppose," Tyrion said. "He hasn't been able to get in touch with them."

"They wouldn't want to deal with a man who passes whispers around," Bran said. "That's death to their organization."

"Exactly," Tyrion said. "But I guess the Spider found out about your sister. He wants her to give him an in."

"I don't know how much information she has," Bran said. "Or if she can give it up. It might put her in danger."

"I get the feeling Arya won't care about that with Sansa's safety on the line," Tyrion said.

No. Of course she wouldn't. And in that moment Bran realized why the Spider had waited all this time to contact him. He wanted information about the Faceless Men from the beginning, but he knew Arya wouldn't give it up easily. So instead, he waited. Waited for the puppet master to strike again. Waited until times were desperate before he reached out again. He built a web in between the Starks and Sansa, and they had walked right through it in their frantic hunt for her.

It was smart. It was cruel. But Bran had not expected charity or kindness from someone nicknamed the Spider. He was a mercenary above all else, looking to take advantage of a difficult situation.

"I'll talk with Arya tonight," Bran murmured. "And I'll get back to you." He exhaled. "How's your brother?"

"Extraordinarily lucky, considering," Tyrion said.

"Good," Bran said. "I worried we might lose Lannister help…now that Jaime had a brush with death."

"Oh, you underestimate the Lannisters," Tyrion said. "For my father, a threat on his eldest son is a declaration of war. He will see this until the end now. No chance of him backing out. And Jaime…well, he doesn't know when to quit. Cersei would risk one thousand bombs to find the person who killed her son."

"And you?" Bran asked.

"I'm full of spite and wine," Tyrion said. "Either way, Bran, you don't have to worry. The Starks and Lannisters are in this together. For better or worse."

I hope its for better, Bran thought as he hung up the phone. We could use 'for better'.

When Bran asked Catelyn to drive him to the Lannister manor, she didn't question it. She was far past questioning their involvement with the Lannisters. And when Bran claimed it was something that might help them find Sansa, she had her purse on her shoulder in a heartbeat.

"I'm trying to avoid phones," Bran said. "In case they have some way to watch them."

"You think they could be?" Catelyn asked.

"Maybe. Maybe not. Better not to risk it," Bran said. "So I need to talk to Arya in person."

Catelyn did not ask any further questions. She simply took the increasingly familiar road to the Lannister house with her car. When they entered the Lannister manor, Myrcella was there waiting with a bright smile.

"Hello, Mrs. Stark. I'm glad you could bring Bran," she said. "I'll take him to Tommen right now."

Ah yes. Tommen. And certainly not Arya. Catelyn nodded once with a forced smile. "Thank you, Myrcella. I'll wait in the parlor."

She did wait. Restlessly. She couldn't sit so she paced instead. Right now, staying still felt poisonous to her soul. She needed to keep moving. Keep busy. Because the moment she thought about Sansa she began to spiral.

Every lead the found kept getting cut off. Jaime Lannister and Brienne Tarth's investigation ended in an explosion and, fortunately, no lives lost. They'd lost track of their witness. They didn't know where Sansa was and any attempt to find her could end in her being harmed. They hadn't gotten a ransom number from the kidnapper. She was losing her fucking mind.

Gods I hate the fall.

"Mrs. Stark."

Catelyn whipped around to see Tywin Lannister. Which shouldn't have surprised her, considering it was his house. But somehow it did.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Lannister," Catelyn said.

"I heard your son is here to speak to your daughter," Tywin said.

"Yes," Catelyn said. "Apologies. I should have…warned you that I was coming."

"I've gotten used to the sudden appearance of Starks around here," he said. "Would you like a drink?"

"Please," Catelyn said. She hoped the word didn't come out too desperate.

Shortly after, Catelyn was standing in Tywin Lannister's office, a drink in her hand. It wasn't quite surreal as it had been the first time. Or the second or third. It was actually becoming strangely routine, and the thought drew a slightly hysterical laugh to her lips.

Tywin glanced at her from where he leaned over his desk, pouring a glass of his own. "Is something funny?"

"No. Very little is funny," Catelyn said. "Its just…it seems to have become tradition for you to offer me drinks when my daughters are missing."

"It seems it has," Tywin agreed, sipping his drink. "I'm sorry the tradition ever had to begin."

"Well. It appears its just my life now," Catelyn said. "You didn't happen to see Sansa the day she went missing? Like you did with Arya?"

"I'm afraid not," Tywin said. "But we will find her. If we're speaking of traditions, Arya returned to you. Odds are good for the second."

"I didn't know you were such an optimist, Mr. Lannister," Catelyn said.

"I'm not," Tywin said. "But this is a war. On your family and on mine." He sipped his drink. "I've never lost a battle before."

"Is it?" Catelyn asked. "A war?"

"My son was almost killed a few days ago. It certainly is," Tywin said.

"Right." Catelyn circled the rim of her glass with her thumb. "How is Jaime?"

"He's fine. They'll likely release him from the hospital in a few days," Tywin said. "It doesn't change the fact that there was an attempt. When I find the person behind it…I plan to make them suffer in whatever ways I can."

"I do like the sound of that," Catelyn said. "It's interesting…My husband didn't much like your strategies in war."

"Yes, he made that quite clear to me," Tywin said, seeming unbothered. "He thought I was too brutal. But always got what I needed."

"Hmm," Catelyn said. "I won't speak for your actions there. But after these past few years…I can live with brutal methods." Her grip tightened on her glass as she stared straight ahead. "Whatever you might do to them…I think I might do worse given the chance."

Tywin did not reply for a long time but she could feel his watchful gaze on her. "I suppose we'll see."

"You sound like you doubt me," Catelyn said.

"It's not that I doubt you," Tywin said. "But I'd say on the whole you're a more moral person than me, Mrs. Stark."

She smiled bitterly. "Maybe not as moral as you think, Mr. Lannister."

Her phone buzzed in her phone, and she checked the screen. It was Robb. She set down her now empty glass and stepped toward the edge of the office. "Excuse me, I have to take this." She answered, trying to gain her bearings. "Robb?"

"I got a message," he said. "From the people who have Sansa."

She stilled, leaning up against the wall. "What did they say?"

"They gave us an amount," his voice was tight. A little frantic. "A very large amount. To be paid by the morning after the Autumn Charity Gala."

The Autumn Charity Gala. It was earlier this year. Only two weeks away. Not much time at all.

"Tell me," she said.

He did. And the number almost made her knees buckle. It was an absolutely exorbitant amount of money. And more than they had to give. More than anyone had to give. They did not have that much money on hand, and they would not have time to acquire it in time for the Charity Gala. Not through legitimate means, anyway.

Still, she thanked Robb for telling her. Promised they would talk later. Figure something out. Her voice was distant to her own ears. Slowly, she lowered the phone and looked back to Tywin who had been watching her all the while.

"What's the number they gave you?" he asked.

She couldn't say it. She could barely speak at all. So she jotted down on a slip of paper from her bag and handed it over to him.

Tywin studied the number for a long moment. Then handed the phone back to Catelyn. "You don't have that much in liquid currency."

It was a statement, not a question.

"No," Catelyn murmured.

"But your company does."

"Yes."

Tywin nodded once; suspicions confirmed. "I think, Mrs. Stark, the culprit behind this kidnapping is trying to force Robb to embezzle from his own company."

Catelyn swallowed hard. "Yes. It seems that way."

Another step in their plan. Another attempt to break the Starks after they survived so many other attempts to break them.

And she wondered, this time, if they might succeed.

"Information on the Faceless Men," Arya repeated, just to make sure she had heard right. "That's what the Spider wants."

"Yes," Bran said. "Information and, presumably, a way to contact them."

Arya sat back against the couch in the living room. "Well…they're not difficult to contact. I practically stumbled across them."

"You went looking for them," Bran said. "And based on your stories…you only found them because they wanted you to."

True enough. Arya had spent all day searching the docks. But she only found her way because Jaqen told her where to go. The people of Braavos did not speak openly about the Faceless Men. They avoided questions about them like the plague, in fact. It was something beyond just loyalty. Something beyond fear. It was a sort of…reverence for the Faceless Men and the Many Faced God they served.

Arya did not share their reverence. But she had plenty of fear. If there was one thing she was taught over and over again in the first days at the House of Black and White—never give a location or means of contacting the Faceless Men. The Faceless Men came to you, not the other way around. If they heard someone expressing interest, they were meant to pass the information along to someone higher in the organization. The number by which she received orders from Jaqen was only for her. She'd never even think of giving it to anyone else.

Until now.

"Why can't the Spider go wander the docks like I did?" she asked at last. "If he has resources, they'll answer him."

"The Spider is different," Bran said. "He's the sort of person they'd never deal with because he could uncover their whole organization if they give him the smallest bit of information." He exhaled. "Besides. If he does contact the Faceless Men, I get the feeling he'll want to do it on his own terms. He wants to be the one in control."

"Right." Arya rubbed her hands together, still considering the proposal.

"Will this get you in trouble, Arya?" Bran asked. "Will it put you in danger?"

"I don't know," Arya said. "I don't even know if the number I have is still good. I haven't tried it again. The Faceless Men let me go and I'm not going to argue with that." She swallowed hard. "But…if this guy can help us find Sansa…"

"There might be another way," Bran said. "We can keep looking. Do this without him."

"I don't think we can," Arya said. "He said he could find where Sansa is?"

"He did," Bran said. "And I think he's telling the truth. He has a reputation for making good on his trades. Otherwise, no one would deal with him."

Arya thought it over. Jaqen had cut her loose. That was clear enough from Sansa's capture. The Faceless Men were no longer protecting the Starks from harm. So they might not still be watching her.

But she couldn't be certain. And that doubt was enough to make her hesitate.

"Like I said," Bran said. "We could—"

A knock came at the door. They looked up to see their mother enter, looking ghostly pale. "We have a number from the kidnapper," she murmured. "And…a deadline. A close deadline."

"And?" Bran asked.

Their mother just shook her head. "Its… not good."

Its not good. But when was it ever good with their family. Their lives had been a nightmare for the less few years and Arya wanted to end it.

"Don't worry," she found herself saying. "We have a lead. A way to find her." She looked to Bran. "Tell the Spider I'll tell him whatever he wants to know."

A/N: Braime kisses in order to offset all the other many things going wrong. Hope you enjoyed. Review, subscribe and I'll see you next time!