A/N: I'm back. Apologies for the very cruel cliffhanger but...there aren't too many more of them. Since I plan to end this story in another three chapters :) Enjoy!

Chapter 62: At the Graveside Again

It was late at night when Arya and her friends finally managed to leave the stadium. The police made their way around to them. Took their statements. No one balked at the blood on Arya's clothing because at that point, they had seen much worse. Of course, she did not mention how many people she had killed in her rage. Only that she had defended herself.

She wondered if the law would even bother to prosecute the murders that happened today under the influence of Long Night. She wasn't sure the courts could handle that many cases. But regardless, she had no intention of risking it.

They didn't question her. She was a girl from a wealthy family, after all.

She gave them Lommy's information of course. His family would want his body. She considered carrying it from the stadium with them, but she knew that wouldn't be allowed. So she'd just have to hope that when they were done sorting through the bodies, he would find his way home.

Their group was quiet as they made their way out into the streets. Everywhere they looked lurked remnants of the chaos. Crashed cars. Bloodstained pipes. Bodies not yet collected.

"You have a safe way home?" Oberyn asked.

"We'll manage," Arya said. "Thank you again…for helping me today. And for talking with me."

"I need no thanks for the talking," Oberyn said. "You're an interesting person, Arya Stark. And I hope to see more of you."

"You too," Arya said. "Though you could stand to be less mysterious when we next talk."

"I make no promises," Oberyn said, giving her a little salute before continuing on his way.

The drive home took twice as long as usual. Traffic was to blame for that. Arya invited all her friends to simply come back to the Stark manor and sleep there before going home. That way they wouldn't have to bounce all over the ruined city. Everyone agreed. They had no desire to be out in the aftermath longer than necessary.

The car pulled into the driveway and their mother met them halfway to the house. She pulled Arya and Rickon into her arms, holding on tight. They hugged her in return. No words passed between them, but Arya could tell that her mother had a difficult day as well.

Her mother noted the blood on Arya's clothes. She didn't question it. Only murmured: "Let's get you cleaned up." Then she looked to Myrcella and Tommen. "Your mother is here. Got here half an hour ago when she heard you were on your way."

"Thank the gods," Myrcella said. "I texted her up until my phone died. I hope she wasn't too worried."

"She was," Catelyn said. "But she'll be better now. Come on."

There was a flurry of people in the front hall and parlor. Cersei was waiting there and immediately pulled her children into a tight hug, refusing to let them go for a solid minute. They asked after their uncles, and she assured them both were fine.

Jon sat beside Bran in his chair. They were talking to two other police officers, including Barristan Selmy. Jon's boss. Bran's expression was flat and tired and Jon echoed that. The girl Jon had been seeing lately, Ygritte, perched at the top of the first landing, watching them. They all look like they had been through the seven hells.

Robb stood in the entrance of the parlor, speaking with Tywin Lannister of all people. Arya wondered how he had ended up at her house in all of this. For the same reason as Cersei maybe? Concern for his grandchildren?

And just past them, sitting on the couch, was Sansa and Margaery. Margaery's expression was vacant and her lovely eyes stared off into space. Sansa held her hand and stroked her back. She didn't say anything. Just sat with her. Her cousin Robyn was under the piano, almost completely hidden from view. How had he gotten here?

It was quite a collection of people. And they all had horrible stories to tell of course. Jon and Bran's encounter with the Night King which ended in the Night King's death at Bran's hand. Catelyn's encounter with their aunt and her ultimate death. Sansa's fight with the assassin that killed Olenna Tyrell. And of course, Arya and Rickon's experience.

But…when Arya took stock of the scene…everyone in her family was here. Alive. Unhurt for the most part. And for that reason alone, she could finally let out a breath.

There were barbs still stuck in her chest. Lommy's death. The way he looked when he reached for her. And also Oberyn's words. She glanced across the room at Tywin Lannister. A man she knew was involved in the Second Essosi war. Did he have an inkling why this attack had happened? Did he know of the origin of the drug? And did he know that, with Olenna Tyrell's death, his life might still be in danger?

And then there was what Oberyn said about the Faceless Men.

"Are you so sure they let you go, Arya?"

"Are you sure?"

"Are you?"

Arya swallowed thickly and pushed the question from her mind. She'd dealt with enough today. And tonight was for being with her family.

Tywin had questions for a great many of the people in the Stark house. But especially for Sansa Stark and Margaery Tyrell. He'd been wondering about Olenna Tyrell's death ever since he heard of it, but hadn't had a chance to investigate further. He doubted Margaery would be in the position to speak of her grandmother's murder.

But Sansa Stark had been a witness too, and she seemed of more sound mind. When he pulled her aside, she seemed shocked he would want to speak with her. But she went none the less, ducking into one of the first floor offices.

She gave a succinct account of what happened. The attempted attack on Margaery. Subduing the assailant. Going into the office and finding Olenna dead.

"Was the assailant under the influence of Long Night?" Tywin asked.

"No," Sansa said.

"You sound sure."

"Well…I know what it's like to be on Long Night, Mr. Lannister," Sansa said. "This man was too…focused. And quiet. We would have heard more noise if he was on Long Night because he might have attacked other staff."

"But he went from Olenna to Margaery," Tywin said.

"Yes."

"And you're sure the same person that attempted to kill Margaery killed Olenna?"

"There was blood on his knife," Sansa said. "So yes."

Tywin nodded, passing a hand over his face.

"Do you think it was coincidence?" Sansa asked. "That this man went after the Tyrells on the same day all…this happened?"

"No. It seemed someone wanted to use that as a distraction," Tywin asked.

"But who?" Sansa asked.

"If you're asking about Olenna Tyrell's enemies, the list goes on a long while," Tywin said. "But the list of enemies that would be bold enough to kill her? That list is quite a bit smaller."

"Petyr Baelish would be," she said flatly. "But he's locked up so…it couldn't have been him."

"Unless of course he arranged from something," Tywin said. "It would be rather pointless of him now. Even if he isn't convicted, which he will be, he'll have no chance of capitalizing on this death."

"No," Sansa said. "Do you think…the killing stops here? Or is there more left to go?"

I don't know. That was Tywin's first thought. Pure uncertainty. He'd thought the killing had ended with Baelish behind bars. But there will still questions he had left unanswered. That wealthy client of the Faceless Men that wanted to cause trouble in the Westeros economy. There felt like a connection between that client and the Long Night riots. Certainly, this day would send its own cracks through King's Landing. Much larger than that of a few dead CEOs.

"We'll wait and see," Tywin said. "But I don't think your older brother will be a target…if that is what you're wondering."

Sansa twisted her fingers together, nodding once. It seemed he had correctly guessed her fears. "Was there anything else, Mr. Lannister?"

"No. No, nothing else," he said.

She stepped back to the door, opening it. Arya stood just outside in the hall. She blinked in surprise at the sight of her sister. "Hey…you okay?"

"Better than most," Sansa said. She rested a hand on Arya's shoulder. They passed a silent look of 'talk later' between them, then Sansa continued on her way, and Arya stepped into the office closing the door behind her.

"Were you talking to my sister about Olenna?" Arya asked.

"I was," Tywin said.

She nodded once, stepping over to the bookshelves. She looked at the titles but did not seem to be reading any of them. "Seems as if almost everyone in my family watched someone die today. Or walked in on the aftermath." She pulled at two fingers on her right hand. "Robb said went with him? To get my mother from Aunt Lysa's?"

"I did," Tywin said. "I'm sure your brother would have come for you as well, if he could break through the crowds."

"I'm glad he didn't try," Arya said. "We were all right."

"Were you?"

She gnawed at her lip. "I've seen a lot of death before…you know? I've killed people. Death isn't new to me. I've just…never seen that much of it at once. That much chaos."

"I have," Tywin said.

"In war?" Arya asked.

"Yes. In war."

She nodded absently. "I did think of that…when I was watching it all. When the chaos surrounded me. I thought…this must be what it's like."

"When the chaos surrounded you?" Tywin asked. "You were in the thick of it?"

"At one point," Arya said. "That batch of Long Night…it was different than the stuff the Faceless Men used. Very different. It never made me feel aggressive. Just…sluggish. Blind. Like I was fighting through dark water. I learned how to deal with those side effects. But not these."

"So you inhaled the gas," Tywin said. She'd left that out of her story to her mother.

Arya nodded. "I made it out all right though. Someone had an antidote on them. They saved me."

"There's an antidote?"

"Yes. Apparently it's not really known in Westeros."

No. He imagined if it was, they'd have an easier time responding to this crisis. "Who was it that saved you then?"

"Oberyn Martell." She looked at him then. "You know him, don't you?"

Tywin paused before he answered. "I believe that's a question to which you already know the answer."

Arya shrugged.

"Yes. I know him," Tywin said. "How did he come across the antidote?"

"He's done a lot of travelling. He's been to Braavos," Arya said. "Anyway…I'm lucky I had it. Otherwise who knows how long I would have kept fighting. It felt like I could have kept going forever. It was pure adrenaline. Instinct." Her voice and her eyes were very far away as she spoke. "It was survival. But I also know…I killed some normal, innocent people. I'm not sure how many exactly."

"That's an inevitable outcome in battle," Tywin said. "Wars are not simple things. The other side is full of normal people. And yet you kill them to survive. And to win."

"Do you ever regret the things you've done in war?" Arya asked softly. "Or wish you could have done them differently."

Tywin observed her carefully. It was hard to tell if she was angling for information or just seeking comfort from someone who had seen battle. "I try not to regret anything."

"Why?"

"Because I find it a useless emotion," Tywin said. "What happened in the past…it's over and done with. There's no changing it."

"I know that logically," Arya said. "That doesn't mean I don't regret leaving home and going to Braavos though. I know I can't change it, but I regret it every day. But you…don't?"

"I didn't say I don't," Tywin said. "I just said I try not to. I have some regrets in my life. But at the end of the day, my family has survived, and I have survived. That's enough for me."

She nodded, taking a step back toward the door. "You…should probably be careful though. Going forward."

"What do you mean?" Tywin asked.

"Baelish is in prison. But Olenna Tyrell is still dead," Arya said. "That means you could still be a target. So…be careful. Please."

That 'please' was shockingly sincere. Which shouldn't have surprised him. The girl had refused to kill him once before. Perhaps to keep her family name away from the stain. But still…

"I'm always careful, Arya," Tywin said. "You should do the same."

"I'll try," Arya said. She paused for a moment. As if she had more to say. More to ask him. But she evidently decided against it because she slipped from the room and out into the hall with her waiting family again.

Catelyn loathed the process of getting ready for a funeral. Those few hours before loading into a car and journeying to the cemetery to say goodbye to a person forever. She had attended many of these in her life. Her father. Her husband. Her daughter, the only one to return to her. And now her sister.

She wished she felt more though, as she got ready for the funeral. Wished it more than anything. The phone call from the police was the last thing she wanted on top of it.

"Mrs. Stark. Do you have a moment?"

She knew that voice. Jaime Lannister. "Not very long," she said. "I'm about to go to a funeral."

"Sorry. Bad timing. I can call back if you'd like," Jaime said.

"No, no," Catelyn said. "If you have bad news just…get it over with. Better to get all of the terrible things of the day better before noon."

"We've finally finished cataloguing all of the dead from the prison riots," Jaime said. "We haven't released the data to the public yet, but I didn't want you to read this in a newspaper. Petyr Baelish is dead."

Catelyn went silent. Two mixed reactions swirled through her chest. The first was 'good'. To the seven hells with the bastard. Let him rot for what he did. But then again…she had hoped he would rot in a cell first. A quick death seemed too merciful for him.

"He died in the riots?" she asked.

"It seems so," Jaime said. "Bludgeoned over the head with…something. We couldn't begin to name the murder weapon or the culprit. Not in that mess."

Catelyn nodded, then remembered Jaime could not see her through the phone. "I…thank you for telling me."

"Are you all right?" Jaime asked.

"I'm fine," Catelyn said. "It's good to know. I'll…tell my children later. After the funeral. I don't think they'll shed any tears over his loss."

"No doubt," Jaime said. "At the very least you won't have to endure a trial with him. He seems the type to not shut up when given the witness stand."

"That is a silver lining," Catelyn said. "Again. Thank you for the warning. I hope…I hope you're making it through work all right."

"Best we can. We're a bit short staffed after the explosion at the warehouses. And everything else."

Yes. The explosion which had almost claimed Jon's life. It was a miracle Catelyn had only lost one person that day.

"I hope things get better for you," Catelyn said "I'll speak with you later." Then she hung up and walked from her room. The others were still in various stages of getting ready, but she found Robb pacing the floor of the foyer speaking with someone on the phone.

"Okay I…right, right. Listen, Theon, any help you need, you know I'm with you…Sure…I mean I know you didn't like the guy but…Yeah. I'll talk to you later."

He hung up with a sigh. Catelyn's brow furrowed.

"You finally got through to Theon? Is he all right?"

"He's fine," Robb said. "Yara too. But…turns out his dad got caught up in the chaos. His car got hit by a truck and he died. Now his uncles are all fighting over the company before his body is even cold."

"Gods," Catelyn said. "How is he?"

"Theon and his dad never got along. No love lost between them," Robb said. "He's trying to back Yara for the position of CEO. I think it's the right call."

"Then we'll support her too," Catelyn said. She pinched the bridge of her nose. Always something. Always something. If Petyr was alive, he would have reveled in this chaos. Instead, it had killed him before he got to see the results. There was a cruel irony in that.

"We'll deal with work later," Robb said. "Funeral first."

"Yes. Funeral first." She turned, calling up the stairs. "Five minutes everyone! Let's go!"

Arya had never gotten along with her aunt. She was the sort of woman who enjoyed slipping snide and passive aggressive comments into conversations and disguising them with a sweet smile. She never once had a pleasant interaction with the woman, and she hated the way she talked to her mother.

She went to the funeral to be there for her mother. She imagined even if her relationship with Sansa had soured completely, she would mourn her death. And her mother had been to so many funerals.

But when it was over and the private reception at its end, she didn't want to go home quite yet. She had someone else to speak to in the cemetery. Someone she had avoided speaking to for a while.

The last time she stood at her father's grave was at Joffrey's funeral, and her visit was cut short by the Waif. Since she reclaimed the name Arya Stark, well, she had been avoiding coming back here. She wasn't sure why. Maybe because she knew the truth about that coin she found at his graveside. The truth about the trick she fell for. To revisit this place was to revisit the site of her failures.

But…she did. Because she missed her dad and she wanted to talk to him.

She went to his graveside when the others left. The cemetery was now rather deserted besides a single groundskeeper. So she didn't mind talking to him out loud. She told him what had happened since he died. She knew he might not be able to hear her. She hadn't put much faith in the old or new gods since she was a kid. But it felt good to get all of it off her chest. And if there was a chance he could hear…

"I miss you," Arya said. "I still miss you every day. And I think of you every time some other CEO dies." She passed a hand through her hair. "But you shouldn't have been one of them. You shouldn't have. You didn't do anything to earn it. Baelish had you killed out of…spite." She looked down at her hands. "We're lucky, I think. That we're all still alive. I know that. We all know that. But I still wish you were here.

"I made a mistake here. A long time ago. And I'm going to try to do better, okay? I'm not going to leave the family again. I'm going to protect them. And I'm going to help Robb with the company. Whatever I need to do for that—school, grunt work—I'll do it.

"I know you'd say…I don't have to. I can do whatever I want with my life. But I do want this, I think. I think I could be pretty good at it." She ran a hand through her hair. "And I'll…I'll try to visit more…okay?"

He didn't answer. But still, something settled in her soul when she finished speaking. Above came a gentle rumble of thunder and she felt a few raindrops on her head. She sighed, unrolling her umbrella and shielding herself from the droplets.

"You came more prepared today."

Tywin's voice behind her was unexpected. And yet not. Arya smirked a little, glancing back at him. "I have payment for the bus too."

"Really. Then I suppose I won't have to give you a loan," Tywin said.

Arya laughed once. Then let out a breath. "You weren't at the funeral, were you?"

"You'd have seen me if I was, I expect," Tywin said. "But no. I was in the neighborhood. Came to pay respects of my own."

"Strange that we seem to meet each other in a place like this," Arya said.

"Well," Tywin said. "I suppose twice in a few years isn't so strange."

"Guess not," Arya said.

"I can give you a ride, if you wish," Tywin said.

"I appreciate that, but I think I'll stay out a bit longer. I don't mind the rain," Arya said.

Tywin nodded once continuing down the path. He stopped before he got far. "You're not going to run away again, are you?"

She smiled and shook her head. "No. I'm not going to run away. Promise."

"Good," he said. Then he left her alone there.

She stayed there for a while longer. Enjoying the rain as it washed her father's stone clean. The cool breeze. And just as she was preparing to go, the shadows shifted.

She looked up, half expecting Tywin Lannister again. Instead, she found herself looking up at an all too familiar man, dressed as a groundskeeper, standing casually beside her.

"Hello, lovely girl," Jaqen H'ghar said. "We meet again."

A/N: Jaqen is here to call in a deal :) And we approach the true climax of our story! Review, subscribe and I'll see you next time!