A/N: Alrighty everyone, who's ready for reunions and also more Tywin and Catelyn talking about this wild situation. I sure am! Enjoy!

Chapter 16: A Reluctant Arrangement

If Bran could write a timeline of his life, there would be an easy breaking point. Before the crash and after the crash.

Before the crash, his life was ideal. He had top grades in school, plenty of friends, and he was regularly placing at rock climbing and bouldering competitions. His family had their occasional fights, but Bran got along with every one of his siblings and his cousin. Not to mention, he was the second son of one of the wealthiest families in King's Landing. He wanted for absolutely nothing. Not that he realized that at the time. Thirteen-year-old boys never really did.

And then the crash.

Bran could not remember that night with any clarity. He did not remember what he and his father were discussing before it came. The doctors blamed memory loss. But he dreamed sometimes of the crash. Of the sudden crunch of metal, the sensation of falling, the shattering of glass. The pain.

And then... silence. And darkness.

When Bran woke up, they told him that his father was dead and that he was paralyzed from the waist down. He would never walk again. And just like that... everything he used to understand about himself was gone.

The rock climbing tournaments became impossible. Rickon told him that maybe he could learn to climb without his legs and Bran had snapped at him for trying to make him feel better. But Bran could have lived without that, he supposed. If his father had lived.

But he didn't. He had died because he was driving Bran home instead of sending a driver to pick him up, because their father liked to make time for them when he could. That was one of the most wonderful things about him. And once he died, perfect family life left with him.

Robb and his mother threw themselves into the company so they did not have time to think about anything else but work. And Rickon started acting out and getting into fights more. And Sansa jumped between bad relationships, ignoring the red flags because she wanted a distraction.

And Arya...

Arya disappeared altogether.

Everyone has different, terrible ways of dealing with their shit, Meera Reed once told Bran, and he found that he agreed with her. He had his own awful coping strategies. Pushing away friends was key among them. Meera Reed and her brother Jojen were the only ones he had kept from before the accident because they were the only ones too stubborn to leave. He once told them he never wanted to see them again, and they spent the next few hours lying on his floor doing homework. When he insisted they leave again, Meera had looked up, eyebrows raised and said: "Make us".

None of the others had tried nearly so hard, so Bran let them all go. That was for the best. Two friends were plenty. But his other coping strategy... that one was more unique.

It started at his father's funeral when he had to endure the pity in everyone's eyes as they talked to him. They asked him in such sad tones if he would really never walk again. They said they were sorry for his loss. And they looked at him like he was dead himself. Someone else to mourn. It made Bran angrier than he could say, and for a while it had made him wish that he was dead. That seemed better than having to return to school or endure one more conversation with someone who only pretended to care.

Then one day, when he was online, he saw that one of his old friends was in rehab for nearly overdosing on drugs. One of the Frey kids. He had always seemed so cool and in control but all the while he was hooked on this new stuff that had almost melted his brain.

The next day, he read the news and saw a story about a divorce between the parents of one of his other old friends. They had seemed so happy in public, but they had been hiding marital issues for years.

That was when Bran realized the truth—everyone in the world had something for which to be pitied. Alcoholism, drugs, soliciting sex workers to cure the loneliness inside of them, bad break ups, abusive relationships, divorces, collapsed businesses. It was just that the wealthy elite of King's Landing kept all of that hidden deep down and pretended that they were fine. His family did the same thing after they lost their father and sister. They shoved all the grief and rage and fear into some deep place inside of them and they smiled for the camera. Bran—he couldn't hide his wheelchair. It was obvious to anyone who looked at him. But he could discover the dark secrets of those who pitied him. That way when he looked at them, he wouldn't have to feel so small. He would know that they were just as fucked up as him.

So he started gathering information. He looked into the business of everyone at his school and cataloging their secrets. Then he moved onto their parents. Not for any nefarious purposes. He wouldn't use them for blackmail. That wasn't the point. He just wanted to know. It made moving through the world just a little easier. Though he toyed with what would happen if he published some 'tell all' book about the King's Landing upper crust. How would they react? How would they try to save face with the press?

He was clicking through pictures from the Charity Gala, thinking about that very idea that morning. Everyone looked good for the cameras, but he could tell some horrible secret about nearly every smiling face.

A text came through on his phone. Jojen.

J: We going out later?

Bran thought for a moment before replying.

B: Maybe. Have to build up the patience.

J: Or I could drag you out of your house by force.

Bran's mouth twitched.

B: Was that Meera?

J: How did you know?

B: Intuition.

He drummed his fingers on the desk absently, waiting for a reply. Then the door creaked open. Assuming it was his mother, he quickly closed down his window, so it looked like he was doing homework. "Need something?"

There was a long silence which was strange enough to make Bran turn his wheelchair around. And he found himself staring at a ghost.

The last time he saw Arya, she was begging him not to tell their mother she was skipping school. And he had listened to her, because he understood. He didn't want to go to school either, but he didn't have the luxury of making a quick escape like his sister. So he agreed, and he regretted that every day since then.

Now she was standing in front of him. Her hair was red and curly and her skin a few shades darker, covered in freckles. But it was her, hovering in the door, chewing on her lip.

"Is this... the sleep deprivation kicking in?" he asked.

"No," Arya said. "Though... though if you're worried about that, you probably should sleep."

Bran swallowed hard past a well of emotion. "So you're really here. Alive. How?"

"It's a long story," she said.

"Three years long, obviously."

She nodded once. "I'm sorry. I... I really am."

"I'd hope so." Bran looked up at her. "Well... are you going to make me come to you? Because that's rude to do to a person in a wheelchair."

Her eyes filled with tears and she hurried over to him, drawing him into a hug. She felt real when he wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Solid. She wasn't a dream.

"You've grown a lot," she said when she finally pulled back from him.

"Though not taller, obviously," Bran said.

"You've gotten taller," Arya said. "You just can't stand to prove it."

"You're right. If I could, I would definitely be taller than you."

She crossed her arms. "Well, that's not a competition Bran. Everyone is taller than me."

A smile cracked across his face. It really was her. She hadn't grown at all, but she had aged. There were dark circles beneath her eyes and there was a nervousness to her that had never been there before. She was always his fearless sister. The very first one to attempt a stupid idea to see what happened.

This stupid idea seemed to have gone too far for her.

"Bran, I have a homework question!" Rickon's voice came from down the hall and Arya turned to face the door, taking a few steps backward as Rickon appeared. He saw her and dropped his notebook. The pencil went rolling across the floor.

"Hey," Arya said awkwardly. "I'm home."

Rickon, unlike most of the family, had never been one to suppress his emotions. He was already starting to cry when he crossed the room to Arya, wrapping her in a bear hug that lifted her off the ground and swung her around.

Bran could not help but smile. Three years ago, the car crash that took his legs had irreparably shattered their family. They would never really be whole again, he knew. But it was a relief to see one of their missing pieces come back to them.

If someone had asked Tywin a few years ago, or even yesterday, if he would ever be invited inside the Stark manor as a guest, the answer would have been 'no'. But then, he hadn't expected to find the dead Stark girl working for him either, so life was recently full of surprises.

Catelyn Stark still hadn't processed what just happened. He could see her mind rapidly trying to work through it all. That her daughter was alive was enough of a shock. That he had found her was probably more so.

She handed him a shallow glass of whisky before pacing away, sipping at her own. He could see her fighting the urge to drink it all at once. He turned the glass in his hands.

"I didn't take you for a whisky drinker," he said lightly.

"What kind of drinker did you take me for?" Catelyn asked.

He thought about it a moment. "The wine sort."

"Well... wine isn't strong enough for this situation. Not nearly strong enough." She turned her glass in her hand. "I'm actually not sure this is strong enough either."

"I suppose it will have to do for now," Tywin said.

Catelyn let out a slow breath, closing her eyes for a moment to gather her thoughts, pinching the bridge of her nose. Then she looked at him. "Where did you find her?"

"In my house," he said. "She was posing as a bodyguard for my granddaughter."

"That..." Catelyn's brow furrowed. "That does not make any sense."

"No, it does not," he agreed.

"Did she tell you why?"

"She did. I don't fully believe her but she did," Tywin said. "According to her, she's spent the past three years searching for her father's killer. Her most recent efforts brought her onto my payroll, because she suspects someone in my family of the deed."

Catelyn finished the rest of her drink, apparently deciding against propriety at the moment. Then she sat down in a chair across from him, steepling her fingers together in front of her face as she tried to gather her thoughts. He honestly sympathized with the woman. Every sentence of explanation he offered just opened up more questions.

"I put up with hearing the tabloids speculate," she said at last. "I put up with friends speculating. 'Are you sure it was an accident?' 'Your husband had a lot of enemies. Are you sure'." She shook her head. "I dismissed them but somewhere along the line she must have heard one of the rumors and... locked it into her mind as a certainty. Gods, I should have seen that." She looked up at him. "Did she say why she suspected you?"

"Well, it was no secret that I didn't get along with your husband, Mrs. Stark," Tywin said. "Perhaps that was enough for her."

She exhaled, moving a hand through her red hair. All of this exhausted her, and it wasn't the kind of exhaustion that came from a few nights' lost sleep. It was a part of her now after these three years.

"More to the point," Tywin said. "I agree with your daughter on one matter. I do think someone killed your husband."

"Gods... you too?" Catelyn asked in a heavy voice.

"Yes," Tywin said. "I think you must have suspected it as well. But it was easier to think it was an accident."

"Sometimes accidents do happen," Catelyn said.

"Yes. Sometimes," Tywin said. "I wouldn't have questioned it if it didn't come on the tail end of the deaths of Jon Arryn and Robert Baratheon."

She sighed. "And now you're sounding like Ned."

I wonder if that should insult me, Tywin thought. "How so?"

"He was sure that Jon Arryn didn't die of old age," Catelyn said. "He had seen him two days before and he seemed healthy. Talked to him on the phone that morning. These things come on suddenly sometimes but... but he didn't believe it. And then Robert died, and he suspected that as well."

"Interesting," Tywin said. "Did he ask questions about it?"

"Yes. Of course he did," Catelyn said.

"And soon after he died."

She looked up at him and he could see in her eyes that her mind was making connections she had ignored in an effort to push forward. She and her daughter had both stood on the edge at one point, wondering if Ned Stark's death was not an accident. Catelyn had stepped away from the edge and Arya had taken the plunge.

Catelyn rested her head between her hands. "All right... let's say I'm considering this. Do you have suspects?"

"None yet," Tywin said. "Your daughter may be the key, however."

"If I'm not mistaken, you told me she suspects you at the moment."

"Yes," Tywin said. "But I told you there was a part of her story I didn't believe. When you came to my manor three years ago and asked for my help, I did set people to looking for her. I found nothing. Which is unusual, especially with the whereabouts of a fifteen-year-old girl. If she was searching the city for culprits as she claims, she would have left a paper trail at some point. Someone would have spotted her. But they didn't. And then there's that body the police found under the bridge. Which we now know wasn't your daughter at all."

Catelyn's brow furrowed. "No... it wasn't. But the police said it was a match. Did they falsify the results? With what purpose?"

"Because they wanted everyone to believe Arya was dead, presumably," Tywin said. "And we didn't question it because it was the first we had heard of her in a year. But now that we know she wasn't dead... I think someone was keeping your daughter somewhere."

Her fingers wound tightly around each other and her jaw went taut. "Keeping her?"

"Yes," Tywin said. "It's not just the fact that no one could find her. It's the injuries. Our family doctor noticed them last night when he was stitching up a gunshot wound."

"She was shot?" Catelyn's voice cracked on the question.

"Yes. Last night, protecting my granddaughter from a would-be assassin. This has been an interesting last twenty-four hours for me as well, Mrs. Stark." He set down his now empty glass. "Not to worry. Your daughter is fine. It was a minor graze. But it's not the only wound she has picked up in the past three years. The doctor reported she had quite a few other scars from various injuries."

Her eyes were blue like water, but somehow they were burning with fury. Just the thought of someone keeping her daughter from her and hurting her in any way, seemed to make her want to overturn the table in front of her. But she didn't. She stayed still and calm.

"Do you know who?'

"No. She wouldn't tell me," Tywin said. "She was afraid when I asked how she knew someone killed her father. And she was even more afraid when I told her I was bringing her home. Almost as if she was breaking some important rule."

Catelyn did not reply. There wasn't much to say. This was a great deal of information to process.

"Admittedly, it might have been a mistake to bring her back here," Tywin said. "It may have been easier to find the culprit if I had let her stay in disguise. But I don't think you would have forgiven me if I kept your daughter from you."

"What does my forgiveness matter to you?" she asked.

"Not much. But your cooperation matters a great deal," Tywin said. "Especially since I believe that the person who kept your daughter and killed your husband are closely connected." He leaned forward. "You asked me three years ago to help you find your daughter. I have. And now I'm going to ask for a favor in return."

"What favor," Catelyn asked quietly. There was a nervousness in her eyes. She knew that he could demand a great deal from her. And she would not refuse it. She was an honorable woman.

"I need you to keep your daughter's return a secret," he said. "You can tell your family. No one else. But for all intents and purposes, your daughter will remain as Beth Rivers, my granddaughter's bodyguard. I'll take her back with me to the manor once she's finished her reunions and keep her there. Right now, she thinks I believe her story. I'll let her keep believing that and I'll poke holes in her lies when I can. But I would say she's more likely to give the truth to you than me."

"And if we get the truth?" Catelyn asked. "Then what?"

"That will depend on the nature of the truth," Tywin said. "Regardless, I need you to follow my lead with this."

She observed him with a skeptical expression. He did not blame her. He was asking a lot from the woman, but chief among those things was trust, and that was not something that passed easily between Stark and Lannister. That was the primary reason he had brought Arya home. Because he needed her trust and her help, though he hated to admit it. Whoever had come for her family was coming for his. He was sure of it. He would not end up the next victim. Nor would anyone else with Lannister blood.

"If you put my daughter in any unnecessary danger-"

"I won't," Tywin said. "At least not beyond the dangers of being a bodyguard. But I assure you, on that front, she can handle herself."

Catelyn swallowed hard. "Is... your granddaughter all right?"

"She's fine," Tywin said. "Shaken. But it would have been worse if you daughter hadn't been there."

"Seems you owe her a debt then," Catelyn said.

Tywin's eyes narrowed a fraction. "Yes. It seems so. I hope we'll all pay our debts before the end."

Catelyn nodded once, standing from her seat and pacing over to the piano at the far end of the room. "You'll leave Arya here for the rest of the day. I'll dismiss any staff still in the house to make sure they don't see her. We don't have many of them here today, so it shouldn't be a problem. And I don't think any have seen her thus far."

"Good," Tywin said. "Fewer people to swear to secrecy then."

Catelyn drummed her nails against the piano. "You can come back for her tonight and she can return to being Beth Rivers. No one outside of our families will know. And... I'll cooperate with you as much as I can."

Tywin nodded once. "We have a deal then?"

"Yes. We have a deal." Catelyn turned back to look at him. "But if you let something happen to her..." She trailed off for a moment trying to find the words. "I've mourned her once already. Now she's back. I cannot do it again."

No. A blow like that would be too much for anyone to endure. Hard enough to lose someone once. To have them return, only to lose them again...he imagined that would be far worse.

"Nothing will happen to her. You have my word," he said. He meant the promise, though he was not entirely sure if he could keep it. Safety was never a guarantee in King's Landing. He stood to go. "I'll be back this evening then."

"Yes," Catelyn said. "I hope you know this won't affect our business."

"Oh, I didn't dream it would, Mrs. Stark," Tywin said, heading toward the door. She stopped him when he reached the parlor door.

"Mr. Lannister."

He glanced back at her.

"... Thank you," she said with great effort. "For bringing my daughter back."

His inclined his head. "No need to thank me. I'm sure you'll repay the debt in time."

Catelyn did not let herself falter until Tywin Lannister left. Only then did she sink onto the couch, her head in her hands. She could feel herself trembling. This was so much—too much—to take in. She had just gone to the cemetery that day to mourn her daughter, only to have her back in her house and an hour later, returned to her by a Lannister no less. Not just a Lannister. The Lannister.

When she had asked for Tywin's help three years ago, it was more a desperate plea than anything. She didn't really think he would try to find her daughter, not even when he promised he would. Because Tywin Lannister had more important things to do with his time.

And then he showed up on her doorstep, holding her daughter by the collar like a stray he had found out in the rain. How was she supposed to absorb that?

She rose from her seat and drifted through the parlor and up the stairs. She had to see her again, just to make sure this had not been a very bizarre dream. She heard laughing from Bran's room and she slipped over to peer through the gap in the door.

Through the crack, she could see her three youngest children, together for the first time in three years. Bran in his chair, smiling like he hadn't in years. Rickon practically bouncing around the room as he told Arya about a fight he'd had a few months ago at school. And there was Arya, sitting on Bran's bed, one knee tucked up to her chest, a little smile on her lips.

Her girl, the one she thought she lost, was really there. She kept expecting her to disappear, but she didn't. It was almost too good to be true.

Almost. Because even though Arya was back, her return had ripped the blinders from Catelyn's eyes. All the suspicions about Ned's death which she had shoved to the back of her mind. It wasn't because she didn't care. It was because she could not deal with the paranoia that came with it. Because if someone had killed Ned, then they could have come for Robb or any of the rest of her children. That possibility was too much for her to bear so she had ignored it.

Arya hadn't. Arya had stumbled right into the belly of the beast. Catelyn wanted nothing more than to sweep into the room, take her daughter by the shoulders, and shake her. Ask what in the world had happened to her. But if what Tywin said was true and someone had been keeping her locked away... hurting her...

No. She couldn't approach her daughter like that. She had to be smart about this and she had to be careful, or else she knew she risked losing her again. And, against all odds, she had to cooperate with Tywin Lannister.

Ned had to be rolling in his grave.

A/N: Bran and Rickon were probs the simplest people for Arya to reunite with. More reunions coming next time and they're a bit more emotionally complicated. But I'm all about angst, so it should be fun.

Also I very much enjoyed writing this Tywin and Catelyn scene because he REFUSES to deliver shocking news with any amount of gravity. Just casually drops that Arya was almost shot like its nothing and poor Catelyn is just trying to absorb all of this crazy info. Its a good time all around.

That's all for now. Review, subscribe and I'll see you next time!