Author's Notes: This wasn't supposed to be a chaptered fic, but it turned into one anyways because I had so many requests similar to it. Oops?

Disclaimer: GRRM owns all of these characters and also my soul.

Reconstructed
the pack survives

Arya prowled the hallways of the Red Keep with a stealth that was unknown to any of the gold cloaks. Every time one of them popped up with the intents of catching her, she would slip away from them with ease. Even with the dress that they had forced her into, she managed to escape all of them. The trick was running barefoot. The new septa that had been given to her upon her return to King's Landing had nearly had a fit when she had realized that Arya had slipped out of her shoes, but there had been no way for that old hag to catch her. There were some old habits that she couldn't be broken of.

As she scaled the outside walls, much like Bran had done at Winterfell before his fall, Arya thoughts jumped all over the place. She needed to focus on where she was stepping, but she couldn't keep her mind from wandering. So much had happened in the past few months, so many things that it was difficult to wrap her head around them at times. Things had been much simpler in the road with the Brotherhood Without Banners, before the Mountain had come down on them suddenly in the night.

At least some of them escaped, Arya thought. In the end, she had sacrificed herself for their lives. Upon finding the real Arya Stark alive, the Lannister men had given up hunting the outlaws in the woods. She had howled loudly and fought wildly enough to distract them all. Arya hopped to another ledge, Gendry's horrified face crossing her mind. The stupid bulk had tried to run back to save her, before Lem had grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled into the bush. She could still hear him screaming her name if she concentrated hard enough when looking into the flames.

"There she is!"

The shout startled Arya, making her wobble. She whipped her head around, catching sight of two gold cloaks in the window down the hall running in her direction. She had just started to really get into the groove of things too; she always did when she dwelled on how this had all started for her. "Seven hells," she grumbled under her breath once she caught her balance again. She hurried along the ledges, not nearly as fast as them, but if she could get to that roof, they would lose track of her again.

She was nearly there too when a hand closed onto her braid. A yelp escaped her; and she nearly fell completely. "Gotcha!" one of the gold cloaks shouted in triumph as he began to pull her inside the castle.

"No!" Arya twisted around and kicked the gold cloak in the face hard. He grunted in pain and let go of her, stumbling back. She grabbed the window to steady herself before leaping to the next ledge and then the window. Her foot throbbed painfully since she'd kicked him barefoot and had hit part of his helm, but she ignored it as she jumped to the little roof. She was breathing heavily as she scrambled across the roof and then jumped to another window ledge. He stood there, trying to catch her breath and watching the gourds curse at her from across the yard. "Stupid heads," she muttered, turning to go to the next ledge.

Without warning, a hand tightly clasped around her arm; and she was pulled inside the castle. When her feet smacked against the stone ground, she yelped in pain again.

Arya started to struggle against her captor, demanding that he let go of her or her lady mother was going to hear about this, when a deep, calm voice said, "And I'm sure she would also agree that what I did was best. Running around those ledges like a wildling – I thought you were smarter than that."

Immediately, Arya stilled and looked up to see that it was Tywin Lannister that had a hold of her. The moment she stopped fighting, his grip on her lessened and she was able to tear her arm out of his hand. "I was practicing," was all she told him.

"Practicing what? Being a cat?" There was an amused lilt in his voice, but no smile on his face to match. One thing she had learned from the many times she had seen him was that Lord Tywin never smiled.

Close enough, Arya thought to herself. She just shrugged her shoulders instead of saying anything out loud. He wouldn't understand. He may have been more understanding and even indulging in her ways than most people, but even he wouldn't be able to understand the things that Syrio had taught her.

Tywin shook his head at her. "Come, child; it is almost time for supper and you look a mess. We're dining with everyone tonight."

Of course she had run to the Tower of the Hand. She almost always seemed to do that when she was panicking, even without realizing it. Arya groaned as she followed him down the hallway. "Everyone?" She looked up at him. "The king and...queens?"

Tywin gave her a look. "Yes, everyone, including His Grace, Queen Margaery, and the Queen Regent."Arya turned her face and stuck out her tongue. If Gendry or Hot Pie were here, she would make some sort of joke, but it was just her and the Hand of the King. "Arya, I know that you do not like them, but being around people you don't like is generally what life is about."

There were people you didn't like – and then there were people that you wished dead on a nightly basis.

When they were standing outside of her bedchambers, they stopped and Tywin turned to face her. "Now when your mother asks where you have been all day, what will you say?"

"Pretending to be a cat?"

Again, there was that threat of a smile, but it did not come. Arya thought she had seen him smile once, during the wedding when he had first laid eyes on his wife-to-be, but she couldn't be sure of it and her mother wouldn't say. "You will say that you were riding in town with me. You wanted to get out of the castle and also see what I did as Hand. Hence why you are late for supper: you had to get cleaned up."

Arya furrowed her brow. "But I–"

"Or we could tell her that you were recklessly running around on the window ledges outside the castle and see what punishment she comes up with." The look on Tywin's face was final, one that would've made her gulp if she was not a braver person. She nodded her head. "I thought so. We will actually do that tomorrow. You're growing restless and avoiding Septa Raechel, I've heard. That was Cersei's septa, you know."

"I don't want her septa," Arya blurted.

Tywin looked at her carefully and then opened her door. "Perhaps it is a good thing you were on the road while Joffrey was king," he said to himself as he pushed her inside. He was right though. Arya would've killed Joffrey herself had the Imp not done it before she had been dragged back to King's Landing. To be honest, she didn't mind Tommen. He was actually nice and even somewhat scared of her, though she didn't really know why. All she ever did in front of him was curtsey badly, mutter "Your Grace" a lot, and sulk.

Her handmaidens seemed to appear at a snap of Tywin's fingers, even as he shut the door. They managed to drag her to a tub, stripping her for the dirty dress and tossing her into the tepid water. They scrubbed her clean, not caring to be gentle with her as she was sure they had been with Sansa, but it didn't bother her. Sometimes, the pain felt a little good, though she would never admit it out loud. Once clean, they put her in another dress, a Tully blue one this time. They never let her wear Stark colors anymore. She wouldn't let them touch her hair though. She brushed that herself. It was just now reaching her shoulders. Gendry had said that she was starting to look like a little lady again, a little over a month ago. She'd punched him for that.

She wondered where he was as she meandered to where they would be supping. Normally, it was just her, her mother, and Lord Tywin, but every now and then they ate with everyone. They hoped it would make her more comfortable with everyone, but it just made her feel worse. She didn't know how her mother could handle herself so well, but there were times when she could see the pain in her mother's eyes. Those were the times when Arya wanted to kill everyone and hug her mother fiercely at the same time.

Just as Tywin had predicted, Arya was late for supper, the last one to arrive. There was an empty spot for her in between her mother and Lord Tywin. It was a small relief. She didn't want to sit next to either of the queens. How Sansa had managed to survive all of this on her own, without their mother or anyone, was beyond Arya. She shuffled to the table and sat in her seat.

"How nice of you to join us, Arya," Queen Cersei said, a mocking smile on her pretty face. Arya was half in mind to throw a knife at her and make her ugly. "At least your sister was always prompt."

Arya gritted her teeth and turned to face the king. "My apologies for being late, Your Grace," she said, ignoring the Queen Regent altogether. That would anger her enough.

The little king nearly choked on his peas. "It-it's fine."

"Lord Tywin says you went riding with him through the city today," her mother said. Arya looked up at her as a servant placed food in front of her. "Did you enjoy running around?"

She knows. Arya stabbed at her mashed potatoes. "It was fun getting out of the castle. Father never–" She caught herself quickly, but too late. Cersei rolled her eyes and Queen Margaery made a dainty cough. She could see the hurt in her mother's eyes for the briefest of moments before it was replaced with interest. Stupid head. How had Sansa done this for so long? "I never knew that the Hand did so much work outside of the castle in the city."

"Well of course, child," Cersei sighed, as if Arya was the stupidest girl she had ever met. "The Hand does more than work with the castle and city; he helps rule all of the Seven Kingdoms."

Arya chewed her food and gripped her fork tightly. She wanted to say how there hadn't been any war when her father had been Hand and how they had all been happy. Everyone had been alive back then, not just her and her mother. She wanted to tell Cersei that she was the stupid one. All of a sudden, she felt a hand on hers and she looked up and saw her mother looking at her, a little smile on her face. Arya felt the anger and tension leave her body.

"Your name day is coming up, is it not?" Margaery brought up.

"Yeah." Arya looked up from her food, noticing that all eyes were on her. "I mean, yes, Your Grace. I'll be ten and two."

"How delightful." When Margaery smiled, she was so pretty, but Arya was sure that there were plenty of other things hidden behind that smile. "Have you thought about what you might want?"

My family, Nymeria, Winterfell, my mother's freedom, Needle, all of you dead. None of those were appropriate to say, so Arya settled for, "A horse of my own, maybe. I liked riding back...back when I was younger." She hated having to watch everything she said; she wasn't meant for this kind of life at all. Living on the road with the Brotherhood and Gendry had been easier.

"You're a stronger rider than most girls your age," Tywin added as an afterthought. Her father had said that it was in her blood – that her Aunt Lyanna had been the best rider he'd ever seen and she looked just like Aunt Lyanna.

"I know what we could get her," Cersei said, that venomous smile back on her face. "We could fix that surname of hers. Catelyn is a Lannister in name now, thanks to your marriage, Father, why not–?"

Before Arya could even jump to protest, her mother had let go of her hand and was on her feet. "Don't you dare insult my daughter like that." Arya had never heard her mother sound so cold or angry before. Catelyn Stark (no, it's Lannister now) was always a good and proper lady, but she looked close to smacking the queen right in the face. "Feel free to make jabs at me all you like when your father is not around – I know how you need to make yourself feel powerful when you lack true power – but do not presume to think you can act like this towards my Arya."

"The Stark name is rotten and dangerous these days. I only want the safety for my good sister."

You're not my sister! Arya wanted to scream, but the look that Tywin gave her made her bite her lip.

"Arya is a Stark – and she will stay a Stark until she marries or changes her mind otherwise. Besides, nothing could be more rotten than you." Catelyn threw her napkin onto her plate. "It appears as if I've lost my appetite. I'm retiring to my chambers."

And so her mother swept out of the room, leaving everyone shocked. That wasn't how a proper lady acted and talked to the queen. Cersei fumed in her seat while Margaery comforted King Tommen, who looked confused about what had just happened. Arya went to look at Tywin's reaction, but he was already out of his chair and following his lady wife out the door. That left Arya with the queens and king.

"I'm leaving now," Arya said to no one in particular as she jumped out of her chair. She hesitated and snatched a roll before bounding out of the room. Who cared if it was rude? She headed in the direction of her mother's bedchambers when she began to hear voices. She rounded a corner, spotting her mother and Lord Tywin together, and jerked back so that she remained out of sight but could still hear them. Holding onto the roll with both hands, she slid down the wall to sit and listened to them talk.

"This place isn't good for her," her mother was saying. "We had hoped that being here the first time would help straighten her out, but... It's only made things worse."

"Not everyone is meant for the court," Tywin told her, "but the girl is strong and smart. She'll adjust with time."

"If she adjusts to this place, she won't be Arya anymore." Arya closed her eyes and listened as her mother ran her fingers through her red hair. It had begun to dull, with a few grey hairs here and there, but it was still beautiful. She wore it like a Southerner now, as Sansa had done. "Maybe we could send her somewhere to be fostered, someone you trust. There is my sister in the Vale. Now that she and Petyr are married, she is tied to the throne..."

No! As much as Arya hated King's Landing and all the stupid people in it, she hated the idea of leaving her mother even more. It made her feel like a little baby, but she didn't want to be separated from her mother again.

"Do you honestly believe Arya will want to leave you behind?" Tywin asked, speaking the very thoughts on Arya's mind. "After all she went through to be with you again?"

Catelyn sighed. "No, and I don't want to abandon her again." Arya wanted to jump up and run to her mother to hug her. She hated hearing her mother sound so sad. "I just...I worry about her. She is all I have left."

"Catelyn," Tywin said, making Arya peer around the corner. She had never heard him call her mother by simply her name, only by proper titles. What she saw startled her: Tywin had pulled Catelyn into his arms, holding her as Arya's father had once done all those years ago in Winterfell. "I promise you that no harm will befall the girl. Believe it or not, but Cersei was the same way."

Arya frowned at that. I'm not like that evil queen.

"Though she reminds me of Jaime at that age more, strangely enough," Tywin continued. Arya mused on that. Being compared to the Kingslayer could be just as bad, but he was great with a sword and let her slip out of the castle when he could have easily caught her.

"She does like her swords," Catelyn pointed out. Arya cringed. She thought that she'd been hiding her practice with swords well in the godswood, but it appeared as if Catelyn knew about that as well.

"Then maybe I will get her a sword for her name day, if only to help her feel at more ease. She has been through much. It will make her feel more in control." Tywin was right, no matter how much Arya wanted to deny it. She missed the security having Needle at her side had given her. "But I promise you, Catelyn; I will protect your daughter. When I said the vows, I promised to protect not only you, but her as well."

Arya slipped away after that, unsure of what to make of Lord Tywin's words or the way he had been holding Lady Catelyn. So many strange and confusing things had gone on in the past month: from her capture to news about her brother Robb's death to her mother's wedding to Tywin Lannister to this. Sometimes Arya didn't know how to make sense of any of it.

When she crawled into bed that night, she couldn't help but wish that her father was here to comfort her; that Sansa was here so they could curl up in bed together like they'd done when they were really little; that Gendry was here to tell her that she was being the stupid one now and make her smile. Some time later, she heard her door open and felt someone sit on her bed. When she peered out of one eye, she saw that it was her mother.

Arya reached out blindly in the dark and grabbed her mother's hand. "Mother?" she whispered.

"Yes?"

"I don't need Lord Tywin," Arya said. "I can protect myself. I'll protect us both."

Her mother looked at her; and even in the dark, Arya could sense the sad smile on her mother's tired face. "Oh, Arya..."