A/N: I'm not late technically because its still Thursday. Anyway, here's the next chapter. It involves Cersei, the Spider and some other reveals. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter 50: The Proper Tool

Cersei was wary of speaking to her father since Joffrey's death. She was wary of speaking with anyone but especially him. Ever since he discovered the secret she had been keeping for Joffrey, he didn't trust her. She was once again in that precarious position where she felt she had to earn back his respect and love.

It wasn't the first time she'd been in this position of course. After she got pregnant with Joffrey and rushed into a marriage with Robert—she'd felt she had to earn his forgiveness then too. Tywin Lannister had a way of making his children feel as if they owed him even when he didn't say a word.

So she'd doubled down at work and she continued to feed lies to the press about Joffrey. She continued to imply his guilt in the death of Stannis to give their family a smoke screen behind which they could safely operate. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, but she did it anyway.

Whatever helped them catch the one behind his death. That was all that mattered.

That morning, she had to speak to her father, but when she went to his office, she had heard a second voice within. Catelyn Stark.

Ah. The Starks are in our house again, she thought. Why am I even surprised at this point?

She caught a few scattered words from behind the door. Something about 'forcing embezzlement'. But she left and decided to get a drink and wait for the Starks to leave before she spoke to her father.

She found Myrcella in the kitchen when she entered, bouncing nervously up and down on her toes. Despite everything, her daughter smiled when she saw her. "Mom. I thought you were still at the office."

"Came home early. Had things to go over with your grandfather." Cersei plucked a bottle of wine from its rack. "How many Starks are in the house right now, Myrcella?"

Myrcella paused then smiled sheepishly. "Three?"

Cersei exhaled. It's like an infestation.

"Bran needed to talk to Arya," Myrcella said. "So his mother drove him over. They're trying to be careful right now. Since what happened to Sansa."

Right. Cersei had heard about that. For a moment, she regretted her disdain. If it were Myrcella gone missing…she would have ripped the world apart. And she would have risked working with even their worst enemy if she thought it would get her back.

"I see," she said, pouring a glass of wine and sipping. "Have the kidnappers sent a price yet?"

"Not yet," Myrcella said. "Just threats. If the Starks are seen investigating too deeply into anything, Sansa's life is at risk."

I suppose that doesn't extend to our family, Cersei thought. Hence why the Starks keep asking for help.

None of them would ask her for help of course. Amongst all her family, she had become the least trustworthy. None of them would ever forgive her for keeping Joffrey's secret. Not that she wanted their forgiveness.

She took another swallow of wine.

"Mother? How much have you had today?"

Cersei glanced at Myrcella. "Hmm?"

"Wine," Myrcella said. "How much?"

Cersei shrugged. "I don't really keep track."

"I know. Neither did dad," she said.

Amazing how Myrcella's sweet voice could cut right through her like that. Cersei paused, lowering the wine glass slightly. "It's been a difficult few months, Myrcella."

"You were drinking a lot before Joffrey died," Myrcella said.

She was right. Cersei had been drinking more than ever this year and it seemed it was only increasing. Maybe that was why she didn't keep track. She circled one finger around the edge of the wine glass and did not reply.

"It's not you fault what happened to him," Myrcella said. "There's nothing you could have done."

"There is," Cersei said. "But its something I should have done a long time ago."

"Maybe," Myrcella said. "But you can still come back from this." She exhaled. "You have to come back from this. I don't want to lose any more family."

Then she hurried from the kitchen before Cersei could respond, leaving her alone with her thoughts and her wine glass.

Cersei wasn't sure if she could come back from this. If she could be a better mother. If she could prove herself worthy to her father again. If she could even help solve this tangled mess which had linked the Stark and Lannister families together, for better or worse.

But she supposed she had to start somewhere. And today she started by pouring the rest of her wine down the drain.

When the Starks had departed, Cersei made her way to her father's office, Myrcella's words still echoing in her brain. He glanced up for a moment from his work before returning to it.

"Did you need something?"

"I have a few contracts for you to look at," Cersei said. "Standard enough."

He nodded, extending a hand and she passed the folder to him.

"So," she said. "New developments with the Stark family?"

"There usually are," he said.

"I heard something about embezzlement earlier," Cersei said. "Is someone embezzling from their company?"

"No," he said. "Someone is trying to force Robb to embezzle. Using his sister as bait." Tywin looked up at her. "Are you truly interested in knowing?"

"Yes, actually," Cersei said. "Whoever is behind this is behind Joffrey's death. If it involves the Starks as well, so be it." She sat in the chair across from his desk. "Do we think its someone inside of their company?"

Tywin studied her carefully. Then: "The ultimate culprit isn't. No one in the Stark company would have the motive to kill Stannis. That only makes things more difficult for them."

Cersei raised an eyebrow. "But?"

"But someone within the company could stand to gain something if Robb is caught embezzling," Tywin said.

"So someone on his board then," Cersei said. "Did the Starks mention the most disagreeable board members in the company?"

"Oh there are several," Tywin said. "Karstark. Bolton. Umber and Glover are known to make their opinions known as well. But that doesn't tell us anything. The Starks encourage disagreement in board meetings. They see the value in the opinions of others."

"Shocking that anything gets done," Cersei said, leaning back in her seat. "Still…I've interacted with all of those men before. Several times. I know you usually deal with the CEO directly. You send people like me to deal with those lower down the totem pole." She tapped her nails against the arm of the chair. "If you ask me, there's only one man on Robb's board who's clever enough to turn on him without getting caught. Roose Bolton. None of the others have the subtlety."

"Roose Bolton is a clever man, yes," Tywin said. "Perhaps too clever to involve himself in this debacle at all."

"Maybe," Cersei said. "But it seems worth checking out."

"I plan to," Tywin said. "However, if he really is clever, I doubt he'll leave evidence lying around."

No, Cersei agreed. So maybe he needs to be tricked into turning out his pockets.

The Spider asked to meet them in a public place. Which did not quite make sense for someone like the Spider, but they followed his demands anyway.

Arya went with Bran and Tyrion to an open-air café and sat at one of the tables near the outer border of bushes. Tyrion sat on the other side of the place, connected to both of them via an earpiece. The Lannisters and Starks shouldn't be seen associating in public, after all.

They waited for a long while. Arya couldn't stop bouncing her leg as she looked around, waiting for some sort of messenger. Then, nearly half an hour later, a child approached their table and set down two phones in the center before scampering off.

Arya stared at the phones, confused for a long moment. Then they rang. Once. Twice. Arya and Bran stared at each other for a moment before both quickly answering.

"Hello," a distorted voice said on the other end. "Bran and Arya Stark. I must say, one of you is looking very alive for someone declared dead a few years ago."

"And you're very well informed," Arya said. "I'll give you my secret if you give me yours."

"Oh, I know your secret, Miss Stark," the Spider said. "It's the Faceless men who have been prolonging your life. And I very much would like to get in contact with them."

"Why?" Arya asked.

"I don't think prying questions was a part of our deal," the Spider said.

"No. But giving you what you want might put me in danger," Arya said. "I want to know what I'm risking all of this for."

"Your sister's life presumably," the Spider said. "But all right. The Faceless Men haven't tangled in Westerosi life much. Their stage is in Essos. I want to know more about their sudden presence here. And I want to contact them. I'm intrigued by their many eyes and ears."

"You want them for information?" Bran asked. "Does your web not expand all the way to Essos?"

"Only strands of it. I would like to grow my web further," the Spider said. "So. Let's start with the easy question, Arya Stark. Why did you join the Faceless Men?"

"Because I thought they might be behind my father's death. I found out they weren't. But they offered to protect my family if I joined. And give me my revenge."

"And why did they send you here?"

"I'm not sure," Arya said.

"They didn't give you a single goal?" the Spider asked. "Just set you loose in Westeros?"

"No," Arya said. "They asked me to apply for a job as Myrcella Baratheon's bodyguard."

"Anything else?"

She exhaled. "To get close to certain members of the Lannister family. But they never told me why. I imagine because I failed at the task of hiding my identity."

"That you did," the Spider said. "And how did you receive your orders?"

"A phone number," Arya said. "I'm guessing you want it."

"You guess correctly."

"It probably doesn't still work," Arya said. "They let me go."

"Maybe it works. Maybe it doesn't," the Spider said. "Either way, I don't plan on just calling it. They could just hang up. But this number could help me get in a back door. Even if it doesn't work anymore."

"And if you get in the backdoor. Could they trace it back to me?" Arya asked.

"Not at all. I'm a professional," the Spider said.

"You would tell her that regardless of if it was true or not," Bran said.

"I suppose I would," the Spider said. "But your sister's life is on the line here. Unless you want to risk her, I suggest you take my word for it."

"We can still find her without you," Bran said.

"You would not have hastily agreed to this meeting if you could," the Spider said. "Please, Brandon. Let's not play games. I have no problem with walking away empty handed. The stakes are considerably lower on my end. For me this is a…curiosity. For you…a family member in danger."

He was right. It was the same thing that made the Faceless Men so terrifying. One couldn't bargain with them easily because they had little emotional investment in desperate tales. They did everything to preserve their reputation and keep their details. No amount of pleading would help her sister. But this number might.

"And this address is good?" Arya asked.

"It is," the Spider said. "I am not the type to trade false information. And believe me I don't care to protect the interests of the culprit behind her capture."

"Then maybe you'd like to throw in a name," Arya said.

"I wouldn't like," the Spider said. "You asked for an address. Not a name. But I imagine if you find your sister, the name will follow."

"Is the address permanent?" Tyrion's voice filtered in. She supposed he had been given a phone as well. "They haven't been moving her?"

"No. Not since she was abducted," the Spider said. "That's why I waited to reach out to young Bran. To make sure that the address was legitimate."

"Okay," Arya said. "I'll give you the number. But you don't just give us the address. I gave you information too. I want some in return."

"What information?" the Spider asked.

"I want to know what kind of security is around this place," she said. "What it looks like on the inside and where exactly Sansa is being kept. We aren't going in blind."

"Hmm. Fair enough." There was a pause, then: "Mr. Lannister, check your phone please."

Arya's brow furrowed but she understood when Tyrion answered.

"He sent pictures. Of the inside of a building," Tyrion said. "Sansa is inside."

"It's a house used for running drugs and women," Varys said. "There are hundreds of them all over the city. Send me the number and I'll give you the address you want."

Arya swallowed hard. Then she nodded. "All right. Get ready to take this down."

She read him the number slowly, trying not to think of all the ways this could go wrong. But it didn't matter. They needed to get Sansa back. And she had no doubt the Spider was good at not revealing his methods.

"Thank you, Miss Stark," the Spider said. "I should mention…if this information you gave me isn't good, I am just as dangerous an enemy to have as your puppet master."

"It's good," Arya said. "Whether you can make it work is up to you."

"Indeed," the man said. "The same goes for the address I just sent to Mr. Lannister."

"Tyrion?" Bran spoke up.

"I have it," Tyrion said. "We're good."

"One more thing," Bran said. "This place. Does it run Long Night specifically?"

"It does," the Spider said. "And what do you know about Long Night, Bran Stark?"

"Not much," he said. "I was hoping to learn more about it from you."

"Another time perhaps," the Spider said. "Once I find out what this number is worth. Good luck to you both."

The line went dead. Slowly, Arya lowered the phone, looking to Bran. They were both thinking the same thing. They had an address. They knew where Sansa was. It was a victory. But even as close as they were…they still felt so far away.

"Well," Tyrion said in her ear, breaking the silence. "I suppose now we calculate our next moves."

Any good CEO had different tools for different occasions. Robb Stark's board was no different in Cersei's mind. When he needed a hammer, he send Umber. When he needed a drill, he sent Karstark. And when he needed an easily concealed knife, he sent Bolton.

But Cersei, just like those men, was a tool that her father often used. And her specialty was softening men and making them feel comfortable before she struck at their weak points. Like a glass of wine with a poisonous after taste.

Bolton was not the kind of man who would fall for that approach. But she had another method in mind for him.

He agreed to meet with her on the topic of the Tyrells. He seemed interested in their activities since Stannis Baratheon's death. Of course, he would be. The Starks had reason to fear the Tyrells if they took over the Baratheon company. She invited him to meet on neutral ground.

She started with purely business. She fed him some information about the Tyrells, only half of which was true. They discussed the concern with Olenna and her next moves. And then, Cersei dropped the first of her searching questions:

"I hope your boss has plans to handle the Tyrells," she said. "Because believe me, they are quite difficult to deal with. Never miss a trick on the contract. If the Baratheons start using the same tactics…Robb Stark will have to be quite vigilant."

"He's vigilant about contracts," Bolton said. "But sometimes he doesn't look far enough into the future."

"Young people never do," Cersei said. "He's only halfway through his twenties. It's surprising he even held Stark Industries together."

"Yes. He's held it together," Bolton said simply.

"Hasn't expanded it much though," Cersei said lightly. "It seems you've stalled lately. Not that my father is complaining about that."

Bolton's eyes narrowed. A small prick to his pride.

"Don't mistake me. I'm not blaming you," Cersei said. "I'm sure you've done your best with the Starks. You've always been the most difficult to deal with. I can't get anything past you. And all of your board has much more experience than Robb." She shrugged. "I imagine if someone else was in charge, a lot more would get done."

"Well," Bolton said. "The boy may not be in charge for much longer."

Cersei smiled. "Oh? Is the Board tiring of having Ned Stark's son in charge?"

"He's been having a great deal of personal problems lately. It may be a good time for him to step back to deal with them," Bolton said. "And I admit, some people look for stronger leadership. Newer leadership."

"I'm glad to hear that," Cersei said. "Because our company might be doing the same."

Bolton's eyebrow arched. She knew that would get his interest.

"Is that so?"

"Yes," she said. "My father isn't quite the force he once was. And, well…let's just say I've been in contact with people lately who would like to see a shift in leadership." She sipped her wine. "Maybe we've been talking to similar people."

"Maybe we have," he said. "But don't be fooled. Those "people" have only spoken to us because they think we cannot handle the company should the current CEOs fall from grace."

Cersei smiled. "Well, I've always liked proving people wrong. What about you?"

"Yes, Miss Lannister,' Bolton said. "I have."

Got him, Cersei thought, sipping her wine to keep her smile from widening. "Well then. I look forward to seeing how our working relationship changes in the future, Mr. Bolton."

Jon was eager to help Brienne with her recent case. Carefully, of course. He wasn't sure if his cousin's kidnapper would consider it crossing a line. On one hand, this was related to a complete separate case and it was perfectly ordinary police business to investigate the bombing. On the other hand, Jon didn't want to tempt fate.

"I'll get the data we need from the site," Brienne told him. "And you can help me process it once we get it back. Also, see if you can find Rigel in the system. His body wasn't at the scene, but we haven't heard from him since."

"Which could mean a few things," Jon said. "Either the kidnapper silenced him some other way…"

"Or he's still alive and hiding somewhere," Brienne said. "And the worst possibility: he was working with the kidnapper and trying to scare the police into staying away."

"Knowing our luck, it's the worst possibility," Jon said. "But I'll look for him."

They didn't have many Rigels in King's Landing and the ones that they did have looked nothing like Brienne's description. It didn't take long for Jon to determine that it was probably a false name—which only lent more evidence to the theory that he was not an innocent witness but, in fact, an accomplice.

Brienne was able to gather some evidence from the decimated crime scene, but they weren't sure if it would give them anything. Jon was, once again, tempted to assume it would go nowhere.

But then Brienne rushed by his desk, motioning for him to follow her into the back. He did and they ended up in the file closet.

"I got a hit," Brienne said. "A name. Ramsay Snow."

"Ramsay Snow," Jon repeated. "Should I know that name."

"No. Because clearly we weren't supposed to find it," Brienne said. "But he's in our system. He's had a run in with the law before. I went back here to look for his file and see why." She tapped one of the cabinets. "Take a look."

Jon did. He flipped through, searching for Snow. Snow. Snow. "There's nothing here." He blinked as he realized. "There's nothing here."

"Someone took it out," Brienne said.

"So that's our guy," Jon said. "And he's definitely working with the culprit."

"Without a doubt. Maybe in exchange for getting his record clean. And he didn't want the police to get close." Brienne sighed. "But its still a dead end. We don't have the file."

"No," Jon said, his brow furrowing. "But maybe Bran will have something."

A/N: Bolton is confirmed to be in on this whole debacle and, as it turns out, Ramsay Snow is too. What a coincidence. Wonder if they're related ;) Hope you guys enjoyed. Review, subscribe and I'll see you next time!