A/N: *Pops head in* Ah. Hey guys. Been a bit. Much longer than I intended certainly. I took a much needed break which then shortly after shifted into straining my wrist and COVID so its been hard to be productive. And the longer a break I took, the harder it was to assemble my thoughts for this dumb monster of a story which has a lot of dangling plot threads and stuff that are kind of difficult to keep track of. So I had to do a lot of thinking and rereading in order to get back into the zone to write.

But, I'm here! With a chapter! Doing my very best! Going forward I'm going to try to make this a weekly rather than biweekly thing (I don't think I can jump back into the AWAL schedule after such a long break), but I'm still gonna be as consistent as possible.

Again, thanks everyone for ALL of your patience and I hope you like the chapter all right.

Chapter 29: Progress

Jaime's father was waiting for them in the security building, along with Arya Stark and, surprisingly, her mother. Jon was just as confused as Jaime to see Catelyn Stark in the room.

"Aunt Cat? What are you doing here?"

"I came to make sure Arya was okay after the train hijacking this morning," Catelyn said. "I figured I'd best stay for this."

"Train... train hijacking?" Jaime blinked rapidly and Jon seemed just as worried.

"Arya was on the train that was hijacked?" he whipped to look at her. "Are you okay?"

"Yes. I'm fine. Everything's fine," Arya said dismissively. It seemed she had already received enough grief for this and was eager to move on. She looked to Jaime. "You have the number, right?"

"Yes. I have the number," Jaime said glanced at his father. "Should... should I be concerned about this train hijacking business?"

"No, you should not," his father said flatly. "That's not what you're here for anyway. You're here to make a call."

"Right," Jaime said. His father was, as usual, dismissive of matters that would usually not be dismissed.

"Dial on this phone," Clegane approached, handing him a rather blocky phone. "We'll try to track the number. It might not work. Considering this person knows enough to scramble their voice, they'll probably know enough to avoid detection from us."

"Doesn't hurt to try I suppose," Jaime said, accepting the phone.

"You have a plan then?" Tywin asked.

"Yes. Stark and I reviewed it on the way over," Jaime said. "I'll impersonate Slynt and try to convince the culprit to meet with me and fork over more cash as insurance."

Tywin considered the plan for a moment and Jaime could sense him looking for holes. "He may not take you up on that offer."

"And risk Slynt revealing the truth and prompting a full scale investigation?" Jaime asked. "They have no choice but to go for it."

Tywin drummed his fingers on the desk. "Tread carefully then. This could be our one window of opportunity."

It was permission. Permission to dial the number and show how much he was worth. Instantly, Jaime's hands felt clammy and his jaw tightened. But he steeled himself and dialed anyway.

The phone rang four times, and Jaime was sure it would go to voicemail. But then... a voice.

"Who is it?"

It was garbled just as Slynt said, but the tone was snippy and irritated. Jaime sensed the whole room tense at the wound and he closed his eyes, trying to focus.

"It's Slynt. There's a problem."

A pause. Jaime wondered if the person on the other end suspected his voice of being false. "Slynt? This isn't your number, is it?"

"No. Throwaway number. Don't want any record of this call. You understand," Jaime said.

Another suspicious pause, but this one was shorter than the last one. "What's the problem?"

"People asking questions around the station. They've noticed the missing files," Jaime said.

"Noticed?" the voice was nervous. "What do you mean noticed? Are you so stupid that you can't hide a file right?"

"They're hidden fine. Destroyed," Jaime said. "Can't hide the fact they're missing."

"Well then what are you going to do about it?" the voice asked angrily.

"I can minimize the damage. Nothing will lead back to you," Jaime said. "But this can cause a world of problems for me. I need more... insurance."

"How much insurance?"

"Double."

"Double? You're joking."

"I think it's a fair enough price."

"You'll get half of what I gave you the first time," the voice said. "Not a penny more. I have the resources to frame you for all of this, believe me."

It was a threat, and yet Jaime could hear the fear. The voice editing could not hide it. But Jaime knew Slynt would be easily won over.

"Fine then. Half," he said. "I want cash. I can't have any record of this popping up on my account. Not right now."

"You'll have your cash," the voice said. "Same place as last time."

The good news was, the person was willing to meet. The bad news was, Jaime didn't know the last place. His mind raced for a response. "No. We should meet somewhere else. Best not to make any patterns. Police, you know... they look for patterns."

"Where do you suggest?"

Jaime raced to think, pacing the room. "There's a park on the west side. Mostly broken down and abandoned and not much surveillance. We'll meet there. Three in the morning. No one will be there then except for a few drug addicts."

There was a long silence and Jaime pressed the stump of his wrist against his leg, trying not to lose his nerve. This had to work. He needed this to work.

"All right," the voice said at last, and Jaime had to fight not to breathe a sigh of relief. "All right, we'll meet. But on my terms. And if you try anything—"

"I won't," Jaime said. "If you go down, so do I, remember?"

"Yes. I'll make sure you do," the voice threatened, but Jaime found it hard to feel anything but elated. The voice had bought it. Now they had a chance to meet in person.

For once in his life, it seemed he was actually providing some sort of help for his family.

For the first time since she met him, Arya felt a surge of fondness for Jaime Lannister. His performance not only confirmed that the person on the other line killed her father, but also guaranteed a meeting. They set a time and place-the next night at 3:00 AM in the park on the west side of town. Jaime and Jon would go to intercept the culprit and, hopefully, get a solid picture of their face.

"I'm going too," Arya said.

"No," Jon said. "No, we need to handle this carefully. It's possible that whoever was on the other line knows you. Better not to risk compromising this."

"He's right," Jaime said. "Our only advantage right now is that the culprit doesn't know we're onto him. If we lose that, they could disappear for good and we'll lose all leads. The two of us will go. As well as Tarth for back up. Then if things go south, we can at least claim it was a police matter."

"You're not police though," Jon pointed out.

"Well then, I'll be a civilian who wandered in at the wrong time," Jaime said. "Whatever the case, we can handle it."

"And you're sure Tarth is trustworthy?" Tywin asked.

"I'm sure. If she wasn't, she would have snitched on me by now," Jaime said. "She's an honest woman. I know I'm not a great judge of character, but still."

Tywin seemed to consider this before he nodded. "Fine then. It's your call."

"I could hide in the car," Arya brought up. "They never have to see me."

"No," Catelyn said. "Jon is right. Better not to risk it."

"Agreed," Tywin said. "You'll remain here, Miss Stark."

"You're not going to keep me away from this," Arya said. "I've waited three years to find out the truth."

"Exactly," Tywin said. "Which makes you more likely to act impulsively. I'd rather not take the risk." He sat back in his chair. "If all goes well, you'll face your father's killer before the end. Be patient."

Arya swallowed hard. Jaqen always told her the same thing. Be patient. Watch and wait. She had gotten better at that over the years, but she never shook her old nature. And hearing that distorted voice over the phone... it lit a fire in her.

None the less, she knew better than to fight when she was outnumbered. So she nodded. "Fine. I'll stay here then."

Like Tywin said, if all went well, she would face her father's killer before the end. And then she would know exactly who was responsible for ruining her life.

On the day of the meeting, Arya woke feeling two deeply conflicting emotions. First, she was excited, though not in a good way. She had been waiting for so long to find out who killed her father and now it had become a desperate need—one of the only things that kept her going through difficult times. She was ready for it to be done with.

But that desperate eagerness… she only felt it because she was stuck in the short term. Never looking far enough ahead. Jaqen once told her that it was her greatest strength and weakness all at once. She could stay in the moment better than most, focusing on surviving day to day. But she didn't look ahead. She didn't think about the future. It made her impulsive and she made serious missteps because of it.

And right up until that day, she had forgotten for a moment what finding her father's killer meant. It meant she would have to return to the Faceless men. It meant she would have to give up her name for good.

Arya Stark. I am Arya Stark.

The name was just a name. But her family… that was more important. She had seen the kind of destruction her disappearance had inflicted on their lives. Her mother, her siblings, her cousin Jon. She felt their pain in the way they embraced her. She didn't want to do that to them again. She didn't want to leave them.

But what would happen if she didn't? If she broke her deal. She was worried enough that the Faceless men might find out that she failed at pretending to be Beth Rivers. But if this job did indeed lead her to the person who killed her father, just as they had promised, and she refused to keep up her end of the deal… she did not want to imagine the consequences.

The tangle of emotions set her nerves on fire and she could barely keep still the entire day. The Lannister manor was open to her and she paced up and down the halls more than once and circled the garden a half dozen times. In her Beth disguise, she pretended she was guarding the perimeter after an attempted break in. At least that's what she would say if the Waif happened to see her. She wondered if she was out there in the woods, peering through the gaps in the fence, watching to make sure Arya was doing her job.

The thought was enough to send Arya back inside, this time to the parlor, where she stood in front of the piano, letting her fingers trace lightly over the keys. It played a few sour notes and she backed off. She never could play the piano. Sansa could. Robb and Bran used to take lessons but stopped at some point. And her mother... She had some memories of her mother playing the piano for her father when she was young. But music had never stuck with Arya in the same way. She didn't have the patience for it when she was kid.

She could learn now if she had to. She learned patience at the House of Black and White. How to stand still for a very long time. How to endure a blank dark room for what seemed like an eternity. Sitting at a piano bench, forcing herself through a song. That didn't seem so bad at all.

She played a small series of notes up and down the keyboard, letting the soft music distract her. The parlor door closed behind her and she spun around, her hand leaping from the keys and slipping into her jacket pocket where she kept her knife. For a moment, she feared the Waif might have found her way into the manor.

But instead of the Waif, she found herself looking at Cersei. One eyebrow raised as she looked Arya over. "You're tense. You'd think I had caught you stealing something."

Arya swallowed hard. "No, ma'am."

"Ma'am." She repeated. "So you're still calling me that even though I know who you are."

"Force of habit," Arya said.

"Hmm." Cersei glided over to the decanter are the table, pouring herself a shallow glass. Arya absently wondered how hard the maids had to work to keep alcohol readily available in the house. How many spare bottles did they keep at one time? "Will force of habit make you answer my questions?"

"It depends on what they are," Arya said.

"Naturally. And its not as if I'd trust your answers either," Cersei said. "You've lied about most everything. I'm sure you could continue doing so without much trouble." She pointed at Arya with one perfectly manicured fingernail. "That's why I don't understand my father letting you wander around the house."

"If everything goes to plan, I won't be in your house for much longer," Arya said. "I'll go back to… to where I came from."

She wanted to say 'home', but she knew better than that.

"Good," Cersei said. "And how is that investigation of yours going? My father won't tell me, so you might as well."

Arya kept her face impassive. She had not yet dismissed Cersei from her list of suspects, and the woman could just be prying to see if they knew she was involved. The voice on the other end of the phone could easily be female. "It's progressing."

"That's very vague of you." Cersei took a seat on the couch. "Why keep it a secret? Unless of course you suspect me." She tilted her head to the side. "Ah. That's it, isn't it? You haven't ruled me out. I'm a Lannister after all, and I work closely with my father's company. I have to deal with the most major contracts. Maybe I didn't like the way your father negotiated and wanted him out of the way. Is that the theory?"

Arya didn't respond, but yes, it was something along those lines.

"Please." Cersei sighed. "If I was going to kill someone, it wouldn't be with a car accident. Too many variables. Too many ways to get caught."

"How would you kill someone?" Arya asked.

"Well, if I told you, it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?" She swirled her glass around a few times before she answered for real. "Poison."

The Faceless men would have approved of that answer. Poison was their favorite method of execution and Arya had slipped it into more than one drink. In fact, if she meant to poison Cersei, she could have slipped it into hers easily. She certainly drank enough to make it simple.

Still, Arya asked, because she wanted to hear it from Cersei's mouth. "Why poison?"

"It's subtle," Cersei said. "Easy to hide behind other things. Sickness, old age…"

"Alcoholism," Arya suggested.

Cersei's eyes narrowed slightly. "I can't tell if you're threatening me or accusing me of something."

"I was just listing things, but take it however you'd like," Arya said.

"I'm sure you were," Cersei said. She paced across the room to the piano, letting her fingers drift over the keys. "I'm no fool. I know your family hates me. They were bound to since your father was so close with Robert. Maybe your father claimed that I drove him to his grave."

"And did you?" Arya asked neutrally.

"I didn't have to do a damn thing," Cersei said. "My father thinks that the deaths of Jon Arryn, Robert and your father can't be an accident. I'll grant you, its possible someone killed all of them. But Robert… he did the job for his enemies. No poisoning required." She gave a dismissive flick of her hand. "In any case, I was well rid of him at that point. Would have been pointless to bother with the pig." She glared at Arya. She was drunk. She had been drinking before she came into the room. "I suppose you'd like to defend your father's dear friend now? Blame me for the divorce and everything going wrong?"

"No," Arya said. "I didn't like Robert very much. He was loud and he never listened to my father. It's just that they met when they were young. Father had to keep being friends with him. It was his… responsibility."

Cersei studied Arya for a moment. "No. Robert never listened to anyone but himself."

They lapsed into silence for a long moment and Arya kept her eyes on Cersei as she took another drink. She wasn't lying about how she would kill someone. She didn't seem the type to run a man off of the road. She was a controlled woman and that would be a desperate play. But that didn't mean she wasn't someway involved. Maybe she knew who did it. Maybe she was asking about the investigation because she hoped to cover for them.

Whatever the case, Arya couldn't let her guard down yet.

"We still have a long way to go," Arya said at last.

"Hmm?" Cersei asked.

"In the investigation," Arya said. "We still have a long way to go."

"Ah." Cersei nodded absently as if she had forgotten she asked. "I see."

Arya scrutinized her expression. Was it worried? Relieved? She couldn't see anything past the fog of the drink in her eyes.

"Well, I'll leave you to…whatever it is you do for my family now." Cersei stood, moving toward the door. "Certainly not protecting my daughter at the moment."

She left the room before Arya could retort to that. She was right, she supposed. So long as she was here, she wasn't doing her job. Not for the Lannisters. For the Faceless men on the other hand…

But Beth must also get closer to the others in the house. Most of all, Tywin Lannister.

Impossible a task as that was, Arya imagined she should keep working at that. He at least seemed to tolerate her presence, and that was a start.

A/N: And we'll take a pause for now. Hope you enjoyed after the long wait and I hope that I'll see you guys next Thursday. As always, review, subscribe and I'll see you next time!