A/N: And we're back. I got another 6,000 word chapter for you guys. And, well, for the Catwin shippers, the scene at the end is for you lol. Non Catwin shippers...well I'm honestly surprised you all are still here after the strong hints I've been giving for chapters, but avert thine eyes at the end I suppose. Enjoy!

Chapter 53: Tomorrow

Arya was pacing up and down the ICU hallway when she encountered a sight out of a nightmare—her mother being wheeled by on a gurney by frantic hospital staff.

After leaving Brienne to make the arrest, she had gone with Clegane to meet Jon at the hospital. Sansa was drugged up enough that they decided she needed a stomach pump to get Long Night out of her system. But her prognosis was good. Arya had decided to stand guard while Jon went to deal with police. And she had just been starting to relax when she turned around and saw her mother flashing by.

She was pale. Her eyes were closed. There was blood soaking through the sheet covering her. At first, Arya thought it must be a hallucination. She wasn't the one who had entered dangerous territory tonight. She shouldn't have been anywhere near a gunfight. Arya was just imagining the worst scenario.

But when she blinked, the gurney didn't disappear, and she could still see her mother's red hair as they turned into the nearest open room. She took a weak step forward. Then a second.

"What…why…"

"Arya."

She was aware of Tywin's voice behind her. She wanted to turn and look at him, but she was still staring off down the hall—and she was too afraid to see his expression. What if his face confirmed all of her worst fears?

"What happened?" she mumbled. Her mouth was dry as sandpaper and her vision swam.

"Your mother discovered the puppet master," Tywin said. His voice was steady but not calm. There was something very severe about his tone. "She shot him. But he was wearing a bulletproof vest and he had a gun too. She has a severe gut wound."

A shiver went through Arya's whole body. She hadn't felt like this in years. Not since the accident that took her father. It was the shock of the initial news. The knowledge that she could die. That maybe it was already to late. The helplessness of knowing she could do nothing to help.

But…she had to try, didn't she?

She didn't even realize she was moving forward until Tywin stopped her.

"Let me go," she muttered, trying to shake him off. He blocked her path, gripping her shoulders.

"Arya."

"No," she said. "I have to help. I have to help her."

"You can't help her. You have to leave the surgeons to their work." Tywin's grip held strong as she jerked against it. "Arya, look at me."

She did. She looked up at him as tears of panic rose to her eyes. His expression was as serious as she'd ever seen it. And stranger than that, there was true sympathy in his eyes. Worry even.

"Your mother is going to be fine," Tywin said. "You've survived a gut wound before. Many people have. We got her to the hospital in time. They'll save her."

"They got my father to the hospital." A sob welled up inside of Arya, so powerful she thought it might shatter her the moment she let it go. "And he didn't…he didn't make it."

"It isn't the same," Tywin said. "I know wounds like this and it's not the same."

"You don't know that," Arya said. "You're pretending you do. But…" She shuddered. "I can't lose her too. Please. I can't…I can't…"

She crumpled against him as that sob finally escaped. His grip didn't falter. It shifted, wrapping around her. A hug. Was Tywin Lannister actually hugging her or just trying to keep her from collapsing on the cold floor. It was hard to say, but whatever he was doing, it was needed. It might have been the only thing keeping her together as she cried.

She wasn't sure exactly how long she stayed there or how many tears she shed. But when her sobbing died out, Tywin adjusted his grip again, steadying her. She swallowed hard, trying to regain control again. If this was not such a desperate situation, she might be embarrassed.

"The puppet master. Who is he?" she asked hoarsely.

"Petyr Baelish," Tywin said.

"Baelish," Arya repeated. "He's…he's one of my mother's oldest friends. Why…?"

"It seems friendship didn't mean very much to him," Tywin said.

No. It seemed not. Arya never liked Baelish very much. She didn't like the way he talked to her father. She didn't like the way he watched her mother. And now…well now her dislike was more than justified. And as panic ebbed, rage crept into replace it.

"Do…the police have him?" she asked.

"No. I do," Tywin said. "And as soon as we're sure of your mother's condition, I'm going to speak to him."

Arya's jaw tightened. "I think…I'd like to come with you."

"I expected as much," Tywin said. "And you will. But first, call the rest of your family. They'll want to be here when your mother comes out of surgery."

Arya nodded, fumbling to get a grip on her phone. She hurried back down the hall, a task now in her mind. A task to keep her busy as she prayed to every god she knew. The Seven. The Old God. The Many Faced God she had abandoned.

Please, she thought. Don't take her. You already had my father. You cannot have my mother too.

You cannot take any more of my family.

Catelyn woke up. Which was a bit of a surprise after being shot in the stomach by her former friend. She had passed through a whole range of emotions as she lay bleeding out on the floor. Shock. Fear. Acceptance. She was sure that she would pass on and join Ned.

But then Tywin…

Well…Tywin hadn't allowed that, had he?

She shifted carefully in bed, aware of a sharp pain in her abdomen. The nurse entered the room and saw her awake.

"Oh good. You're awake. How is the pain, Mrs. Stark?"

"It's there," she said hoarsely. "Could be worse though."

"We'll add more medication to your drip," the nurse said. "Your family will be glad to hear that you're awake. Are you up for visitors right now?"

"Yes," Catelyn said quickly. She would have said yes, no matter what condition she was in. She wanted to see her family. She wanted to know they were okay.

The nurse nodded. She checked Catelyn's vitals and noted a few things on her clipboard before walking from the room. Catelyn rested back against her pillow, trying to process everything that had happened.

Petyr's betrayal. Their exchange of gunfire. That entire night had been, perhaps, the most insane night of Catelyn's life. And that was saying a lot.

There was the sting of discovering Petyr's treachery of course. Fury at him. And also fury at herself for not seeing it sooner. She had always known he wasn't trustworthy. That's why she had, wisely it seemed, not confided in him about recent events. But she never imagined he would go this far.

You should have, she thought. Should have suspected. Should have seen it.

And then, coming so close to death. Thinking, for a moment, that she would have to leave her children behind in this dangerous world. She was angry at herself for accepting the possibility as she lay bleeding out. But maybe, in a moment of weakness, she had just wanted to see Ned again. To rest for a while.

"Mom?"

Catelyn looked up. Relief flooded through her as she saw Arya hovering at the head of the room. Behind her—Robb. Jon. Rickon, steering Bran's chair. Her eyes filled with tears at the sight of them all.

"I'm here. I'm okay."

Arya ran to her, letting her head fall against her shoulder as she started crying. The others were quick to join her. Catelyn was reminded of that night when Ned died. The way the family had crowded into the room at the hospital, sobbing over his body. This…this was different. It was tears of joy in the room. Tears of relief.

"Sansa?" she asked, through the sea of embraces and tears.

"She's fine," Jon promised. "She's a few doors down. But she's going to be fine."

Catelyn let out a breath. Thank the gods. Thank the gods they were all right.

Her family dragged up chairs and settled around her. They chattered about the night. About what had happened. About Bolton's successful arrest and Sansa's rescue from the drug house. About the news coverage. About Petyr being 'under control' whatever that meant. And Catelyn was overwhelmed, for the first time in a while, by how lucky they had gotten.

Half an hour later, someone else shifted into the doorway. Tywin Lannister. Catelyn was…almost surprised to see him there. But she shouldn't be surprised, should she? He had been the one to send for the ambulance after all. And keep her alive until it got there.

"Sorry to interrupt," he said. "Arya?"

"Right. I'm coming." Arya hopped to her feet, kissing Catelyn on the cheek quickly "I have to go. But I'll be back soon."

"Go where?" she asked.

"Nowhere dangerous," Arya said. "Promise, mom."

Catelyn let out a breath. That wasn't exactly a reassuring statement from her daughter.

"She's correct," Tywin said. "Just a few loose ends to tie up. Focus on recovering…Mrs. Stark."

Catelyn managed a nod. She opened her mouth to say something else. But he was gone before she could, Arya trailing after him.

Thank you, she thought instead of said. For keeping me here.

Sorry, Ned. But you'll have to wait a bit longer.

Baelish was in the basement of the Lannister manor. The same basement where Qyburn had seen to Arya's wounds after Myrcella's near assassination. Qyburn had seen to Baelish's wounds as well—though not nearly as kindly. Just to make sure he didn't bleed out on them. And his knees would require extensive surgery if he wanted to walk on them again. The longer they kept him here, in fact, the more extensive the surgery needed became.

And Arya had no qualms about giving him more need for surgery after he shot her mother. She couldn't kill him. But no one said anything about making him hurt.

Baelish had his hands cuffed to the arms of his chair. His ankles were tied to the legs, giving him little mobility. Qyburn stood close at hand, turning something thing and shiny in his hand. A pair of plyers. He looked up when Tywin and Arya entered, a pleasant smile coming over his face.

"Any problems at the hospital?"

"None," Tywin said.

Baelish tilted his head back, looking from Tywin to Arya. "Huh. This is an interesting sight. A wolf pup and an old lion in the same room."

"Indeed," Tywin said. "What's the animal you associate yourself with again Baelish? A mockingbird, I believe." He tilted his head to the side. "How well do birds usually fair against lions and wolves? Especially when they can't fly away?"

Baelish laughed once, but Arya could hear the nervousness in the sound. "Well…I still have friends in high places."

"And I'm in higher places than your friends," Tywin said. "Don't expect your contacts at the police department to be much help to you. Or any of your contacts for that matter. Now that you're caught, they'll cut you loose as soon as they can. And for now…the police don't even know you're here. So you're stuck in this room until you answer my questions in a way I find satisfactory." He tilted his head in Arya's direction. "And her questions as well."

"Why do you even concern yourself with this whole…incident," Baelish asked. "It has nothing to do with your family. Why would a Lannister intervene on behalf of the Starks?"

"It has everything to do with my family," Tywin said. "For one thing, your friend Ramsay Snow set an explosion which put my eldest son in the hospital. And even if it hadn't…you're the one who blackmailed my grandson into killing Ned Stark and Stannis Baratheon. And, for that matter, you're likely the reason he's dead."

"That's quite the conspiracy," Baelish said. "I'd like to see the proof you have for all of that. Who knows why Joffrey did the things he did? He was a troubled boy. As is Ramsay Snow it seems. My hands are clean of all of that."

Arya barred her teeth taking a step forward. Tywin held out an arm in front of her. "I'm sure you left some paper trail. Fortunately, we don't need it. Because you indisputably tried to murder Catelyn Stark tonight. You have plenty of blood on your hands from that."

Baelish let out a sigh. "Ah…yes, that was my mistake wasn't it?"

Mistake, Arya thought. Shooting my mother was a mistake? You pretended to be her friend for all this time. You killed my father. You treat trying to kill her as an inconvenience?

If only she could murder a man with her mere gaze. If only she was allowed to murder him at all.

"It was your mistake, yes," Tywin said. "And it will put you in jail for quite a long time."

"How is Cat?" Baelish asked. "Did she survive it? It was bleeding quite a lot."

"She's alive," Arya said. "And she's going to be just fine, despite your efforts. Keep her name out of your fucking mouth."

"I've been saying her name longer than you've been alive," Baelish told Arya. "At one point, I would have done anything for her. But she never noticed that. Not even after your father's untimely passing." He smiled. "I supposed she noticed me tonight."

There was silence. Tywin let the arm in front of Arya lower—silent permission. Arya stalked forward, punching Baelish in the face. She heard a satisfying crunch beneath her knuckles as his nose broke. She hit him twice more. Pressure points that would really make him hurt. Then she stepped back before she got carried away, her breathing heavy. He was breathing heavily too—wheezing with pain in fact.

"I don't care about why you did it, Baelish," Arya said. "We worked that out for ourselves a long time ago. You wanted to create chaos in King's Landing and use it to your advantage. But I want to know how the Faceless Men factored into all of this."

"Who's to say they did?" Baelish asked in that terribly smug voice.

"Qyburn," Tywin said. "Start with two. We'll work our way up from there."

Qyburn nodded, gliding past Arya with a gentle "excuse me, miss". She then watched as he proceeded to rip off two of Baelish's fingernails at their roots.

Ah. Pliers. That's what he was playing with, she thought as Baelish screamed.

When Qyburn was done, he stepped back and returned to his place against the wall, expression as pleasant as ever. Apparently, he had done this before. Arya would think about that in more depth later.

"Ask your question again, Miss Stark," Tywin said.

Arya nodded once, turning her gaze on Baelish. "How did the Faceless Men factor into your plan?"

"You know the Faceless Men well enough…to understand why I hesitate to answer that question," Baelish muttered.

"You're worried they'll kill you," Arya said. "Fair enough. Sometimes the God of death demands payment. But your death isn't assured. Unless of course we start asking questions about them in court. Giving them publicity. That's the one thing the Faceless Men will not allow." She leaned in close. "But if you tell me the truth here. I can guarantee you—no one will mention a word of the Faceless Men in court. And because of that, maybe you'll get to live."

"And why should I trust that?" Baelish asked.

"You're asking me about trust?" Arya raised an eyebrow. "It's simple. The Faceless Men wouldn't be happy with me if I let their involvement go public. I'm trying to avoid their wrath too."

Baelish rolled his head, cracking his neck a bit. A nervous tick to show he was bowing. "They didn't factor in much. I couldn't afford too many of their services. Certain hits…they would have carried too high a price. I had to get creative."

"They had nothing to do with my father then?" Arya asked.

"No. Nothing," Baelish said.

"But they did have something to do with Stannis."

Silence. A clear yes, though he wouldn't confess it outloud.

"How could you afford a hit on Stannis Baratheon?" Tywin asked. "That couldn't have come cheap at all."

"It's as I said. I do have some friends and high places," Baelish said. "But I suppose they gave me a discount in return for a favor I did them."

"And what was that?" Arya asked.

Baelish smiled through the pain. "Giving them you."

Arya shivered. She remembered, years ago, that brief conversation she'd had with Baelish at the foot of the stairs of the Stark manor. He'd mentioned the Faceless Men so casually. Not insisting that they were behind it…but suggesting that they could be. Arya remembered the way her grieving mind had circled that little thought. And then…and then she found the Braavosi coin at her father's graveside.

"You planted a coin in the cemetery," she murmured. "And you hoped I would look into it."

"I did," Baelish said. "You took the bait better than I could have hoped. I was willing to plant other hints as well. Guide you in the direction of Braavos. All else failed, I could just take you there…but the Faceless men insisted it would be better if you went on your own. And you did."

"Why?" Tywin asked. "Why would they want the daughter from such a high-profile family?"

"Oh, it didn't have to be her," Baelish said. "They asked for a child from a high-profile family. Someone that they could mold. I had other prospects besides Arya. She's just the one that worked out the quickest." He shrugged. "As for why, I'm not sure. But I kept my end of the deal. Even assisted them with making her death more…legitimate. And that earned me the one hit I bought from them. But if I were to guess…I'd say they have another client wanting to cause trouble in the Westeros economy. One far wealthier than me."

And one that likely has a problem with Tywin Lannister, Arya thought. Considering they placed me with him. Did they always assume I would reveal myself as Arya Stark? Or did I deviate from the plan?

She didn't know. She just didn't know anymore.

"So they supported your endeavors to sow chaos then," Tywin said. "But you did much of the work on your own."

"Well, I've always had to work for everything I've had. That's what happens when you aren't born with wealth," Baelish said.

"I'm not interested in discussing your work ethic," Tywin said. "Have you been in contact with the Faceless Men since the wedding?"

"Not at all. Not a word," Baelish said.

"You're lying," Arya said. She could see it in his eyes.

Baelish smiled. "Fine. I haven't done business with them."

"Then why did they contact you?"

"Oh, because the terms of a deal we made had changed," Baelish said. "You see…after you joined the Faceless Men, they informed me that the Stark family was not to be touched. Then…it seems you left them. So that deal changed."

Arya's stomach twisted. She had suspected as much but still…thinking that Sansa and her mother and her whole family had suffered because of her was a heavy blow.

"Do the Faceless Men have specific designs on the Starks?" Tywin asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine," Baelish said. "I tried not to question them too much. They're a bit…creepy."

"Bold words coming from you, Baelish," Tywin said. "I have more questions, but I think I'll leave those in Qyburn's capable hands. I find speaking with you…taxing." He gestured. "Miss Stark."

She followed after him, left mute by the confirmation that Baelish had played her since the beginning. That she had been a cog in a much larger plan that she didn't understand. And that maybe…she still was.

Even Baelish's fresh scream was not enough to improve her spirits.

"Do you want to tell me now why you can't kill him?" Tywin asked when they reached the top of the stairs.

"Because that was part of the new deal I made," Arya murmured. "Jaqen…paid me a visit in the hospital after the Waif put me there."

Tywin's brow furrowed. "You neglected to mention that."

"I know," Arya said. "But I thought I had it handled. He said that the Faceless Men would release me…but that I had to relinquish the terms of our deal. Namely, that I could not kill the perpetrator. Not only that—the perpetrator could not die by any hand. Or I would be breaking the deal." She rubbed her palms together. "He didn't say it at the time…but I guess me leaving also took protection away from my family. So all of this…"

"Was Baelish's fault," Tywin said. "The Boltons fault as well. But not yours."

"I feel like an idiot," Arya said. "I should have remembered Baelish talking to me about that. Planting the seed. And I shouldn't have fallen for it so easily."

"You were a child," Tywin said. "You were grieving. People rarely think clearly when they're grieving."

She swallowed hard, pushing back tears of frustration.

"My question is…if the Faceless Men wanted someone like you so badly, why did they let you go?" Tywin asked. "They must have had some grand design. That's why they placed you with me. And it seemed they wanted you to kill me. Or for me to kill you. One or the other."

"That's just it," Arya said. "I asked Jaqen about that job. He said the Waif wasn't supposed to take it. I think…that might have been Baelish, trying to stir up trouble. Trying to use my new place to his advantage." She licked her lips. "But that still leaves the question of why they put me in there in the first place. And why they let me go so easily."

"Maybe their plans changed," Tywin said.

"Or maybe they realized I would very badly fuck up their plans," Arya said. "I was never a very good Faceless Man. I was good at some things. Just not the…Faceless part." She shrugged. "Or maybe they were counting on me to be overcome by vengeance and kill Baelish anyway."

"Fair enough assumption. I've wanted to kill him at least three times tonight," Tywin said. "Do you think this Jaqen was lying to you?"

"No. I don't think so. The Faceless Men are very strict about deals," Arya said. "And they do know the value of backup plans. They never put all their eggs in one basket. I think…as long as I keep up the terms of this new deal, I'm free."

"Good," Tywin said. "Then I suppose you'll be saying goodbye to your disguise."

Arya blinked. "What?"

"You kept your identity a secret because we were trying to catch the puppet master," Tywin said. "We've caught him now. So it's no longer vital that Arya Stark stay dead."

"Oh." Arya leaned up against the wall a bit as the weight of that thought crashed over her. She could…really be Arya Stark again? After all this time? She could step back into her own family and her old life. She had always wanted to do that. Ever since she left, that was what she wanted most. But now…

She felt a hand on her shoulder, steadying her.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. "I'm just…I wasn't sure we'd actually get here, you know?"

"I know," Tywin said. He retracted the hand. "You should go back to the hospital and be with your mother. I'll handle Baelish and make sure he gets to the police when we're done with him."

"Right," Arya said. "You…don't think they're going to question where his fingernails went, do you?"

"People don't tend to question me, Arya," Tywin said. "Certain members of your family are just…exceptions to that rule."

Arya gave a short laugh, nodding. "I…thank you. For everything. And for…for getting my mom to the hospital. Thanks for that most of all."

Tywin stared at her for a long time, his expression unreadable. Then he nodded. "You're welcome. Now go on."

She obeyed, running off down the hall. Running back into Arya's life.

Arya Stark.

I am not Beth.

I am not No One.

I am Arya Stark.

The weeks in recovery passed slowly for Catelyn. She had an endless stream of visitors of course. She never went a day without at least one of her children coming to visit. And sometimes she got other visitors too. Sweet Myrcella who came with Arya some days and always brought flowers with her. Tyrion Lannister who stopped by after visiting his brother to say hello. She even saw Cersei once. She didn't exactly visit but they locked eyes across the room, and she gave a nonchalant wave before hurrying on. That was, perhaps, the best either of them could hope for after everything. Tolerant acquaintances/rivals in business.

She never saw Tywin Lannister after that first day. Not that she expected to. But she had hoped to speak to him. Maybe she'd have to hunt him down once she got out of the hospital.

Her visitors brought her updates from the outside world. Robb told her of clearing out his board of anyone sympathetic to Bolton. Bran helped him figure out who had been most in support of Bolton. Karstark. Ryswell. Locke. He fired them all and handed their names over to police for investigation. The methods of discovering their involvement weren't legal. But after the kidnapping attempt on Sansa, none of them cared.

Arya brought her updates on Sansa. She was slowly working her way off dependence on Long Night, but Arya assured her Sansa would be fine.

"She wasn't on it for very long," she explained. "I've been on the stuff myself. When I was the Faceless Men. It's hard to kick the addiction. But I know how. I'll help her through it all."

Two weeks after the Gala, Catelyn was released from the hospital. She could walk and breathe without much pain. She took it easy at home at Robb's insistence. She spent much of her time with her daughters. She sat through the day with Sansa. She spoke with Arya about how they would handle her return into the limelight. As soon as the press got wind of the fact that Arya Stark was alive after all these years, they would want the full story. But the full story was impossible to give them. They'd have to tailor a pretty tale to feed the vultures.

"There will be a lot of attention on you," Catelyn warned her. "You'll deal with people following you when you go out. You'll see your name in every paper and tabloid for at least a year. All sorts of people will make assumptions about you that are based in pure fiction. Are you ready for that?"

Arya just smiled and nodded. "I am. I'll take all of that gladly. I just want to be Arya again, mother. I want to be a Stark again."

"You have always been a Stark," Catelyn murmured, clasping her hands in hers. "My brave girl."

So they prepared for the future. For the press. For complications at work. For the trial that Baelish would soon face. They prepared for a tomorrow they hadn't thought they would have.

But a few weeks after her release from the hospital…there was one more thing Catelyn needed to take care of that she had been avoiding: she needed to speak with Tywin Lannister.

She needed to speak to him about Baelish for one thing. He'd been the one handling much of that situation personally. Robb had his hands full with Bolton and Catelyn had been recovering from a gut wound, so Tywin had stepped in to deal with the legal situation. Just another unexpected kindness from him.

But besides that…Catelyn knew she should thank him for what he had done. She just had no idea how to begin. Ned had always hated Tywin because he never missed a chance to call in a debt. But…he hadn't been calling in a lot of debts lately. Not where her family was concerned.

She hadn't expected the past few years from him. Returning her daughter to her, helping to figure out the culprit behind her husband's murder and then...then helping her to survive long enough for the ambulance to arrive. Of course, much of it had been to his benefit. culprit was also after the Lannisters so of course he wanted him caught. But saving her life...had that been of any benefit to him?

She was pondering that question as she waited in the front hall of the Lannister manor. Before she settled on an answer a shadow fell over her and she looked up to see Tywin.

"Mrs. Stark," he greeted her with a typical formality. He dropped that, she remembered, in the moments she was dying.

Look at me, Catelyn. That's it. You're all right. Keep looking at me.

"It's good to see that you're well," he said.

"Thank you. I feel much better," Catelyn stood slowly from her seat. "I hope I'm not interrupting. I just wanted...an update on the situation with Pety—Mr. Baelish."

No. That wasn't what she wanted. She wanted to thank him. But it was easier to give some logical reason.

"Of course," Tywin said. "Would you like a drink?"

"Please," she said, trying not to sound too desperate for one.

He led her into the parlor, pouring her a shallow glass of whisky and passing it over. She clutched at it, taking a long sip to soothe nerves that should not be there.

"Our friend Baelish plans to plead guilty to all charges," Tywin said. "He refuses to mention anything about his investors or the Faceless Men of course. But at the end of the day, he was the driving force behind much of this. And I think it's best not to drag the Faceless Men into this for your daughter's sake. The trial will be held as soon as he is released from the hospital."

"And when would that be?" Catelyn asked.

"I don't know. I don't know much of his injuries," Tywin said. The lie fell easily from his lips. Catelyn knew well enough from Arya that Tywin had taken Baelish into his custody before the police did. "You'll need to testify of course."

"I will. Gladly," Catelyn said. "I'll see him rot as long as possible for what he did to us."

"He'll get life," Tywin said. "If I have any say. Which I do. He won't get out to bother either of our families again."

"Good," Catelyn said. "It's hard to believe...I ever considered him a friend."

"I'm sure you won't make that mistake again," Tywin said, sipping his drink.

"No," Catelyn said. She drummed her nails against the glass. "I..." she trailed off, not sure how to continue.

"Yes?" Tywin asked, sensing her hesitation. "If something is troubling you, you might as well say it."

"No. Not troubling me," Catelyn said. "I just...thank you for what you did. I'm not sure I can repay you for that."

Tywin studied her for a long moment. Then he sighed and shook his head. "You Starks are always so concerned with repaying me." He set his empty glass aside. "It's all right."

"But—"

"You owe me nothing," he said seriously. "Not for that or any of the rest of it. If that's what was worrying you, put your fears at ease. I don't do everything to put people in my debt."

He almost sounded irritated. Like she had offended him.

Catelyn shook her head. "I'm not saying that. I just wanted to thank you. Nothing more. That's all. I'm not suggesting that you did it for any...reason."

"Well...I did do it for a reason, technically," he said, pacing closer to her.

Did you?" she asked. Her voice came out softer than she intended. "And what's that?"

"I prefer you alive, Catelyn," Tywin said.

There it was. Her name again. She liked the way he said it for some reason. Most people who were friendly with her called her 'Cat'. Ned had called her that. So had...Petyr. But he said 'Catelyn'. There was something new about it.

She caught herself staring at him for too long and she swallowed hard, finishing her drink. He held out his hand for the glass. "May I take this?"

She nodded and he took it away, setting it on the counter. Then, in one smooth motion, he closed the space between them, drawing her lips to his.

She stiffened at first. In shock. In confusion. She was dazed by the feeling of Tywin Lannister's hand on her cheek and his lips on hers. And yet, on instinct, she returned the kiss. She was surprised by the honest hunger there. She hadn't expected such a thing from him.

The kiss was brief. He broke it nearly as soon as he started it, pulling back to look down at her. "Forgive me," he murmured. "That was a poor idea."

But he didn't back away and his hand did not leave her cheek.

"A terrible idea," Catelyn agreed softly, before she pulled him back down to her, kissing him again.

He let out a breath like something of relief and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against him. She gave to it though she knew she shouldn't. This truly was a terrible idea. Ned hated this man in life, for good reason. And this felt like something of a betrayal. She needed...to stop...

She lost focus when Tywin deepened the kiss, his thumb tracing a lazy path along her jaw. Seven hells. How was this happening? He seemed to be wondering that himself as he pulled back to look down at her again. His mouth opened as if he had something to say but had forgotten it. His expression was that of a man who didn't quite know where he was going yet did not want to stop.

"Someone could easily..." Catelyn swallowed hard. "Someone could easily walk in and see us."

"That can be remedied." He bent to kiss her again, short and fierce. Then his lips wandered, tracing a path along her jaw to just below her ear. Catelyn let out a shuddering breath, her grip tightening on his collar. "If you'd like to go somewhere they won't see."

She was not sure if it was the suggestion or his low voice in her ear which made her shiver. It was both an offer and something of a plea from him. And in that moment, Catelyn found herself weak to it.

"Yes," she breathed.

This is a terrible idea. A truly terrible idea.

But I'll worry about that tomorrow.

A/N: God I've been building to that for a while. I'm so happy I finally got to it. And the Baelish interrogation as well. But as you can see, a few loose threads are still dangling so we'll see how they get tied up in our final arc :) Review, subscribe and I'll see you next time!