Chapter 12: A Flash of Red

Myrcella was eager to leave the Charity Gala, and Beth was glad to go with her. More for Arya's sake than her own. Being in that room had been absolutely suffocating. Even walking into that main ball room brought back an unwelcome rush of memories. The last time she was here, her father was alive, and so was she. She had hated being there that night, but what she wouldn't give to go back.

And the night only grew more difficult from there. The room was saturated with family friends and acquaintances she used to know. Her Aunt Lysa. Her father's business partners like Roose Bolton and Jon Umber. Petyr Baelish, who years ago had unknowingly sowed the first seed of doubt in Arya's mind about her father's fate.

And then there was her family.

Arya saw her mother first, and it was ten times as bad as any jab to the gut from the Waif's staff. She didn't know why it was such a shock to see her. She knew her mother would be attending this event. She did every year. But when she noticed her next to Tywin Lannister… she felt an immediate bout of nausea rise within her.

Beth is nauseous because she's not used to the wealthy elite. That's the reason. Her mother isn't here.

She repeated the words over and over again in her mind, as if she could make them true. But Beth could not begin to shove down Arya's feelings in that moment. Especially when her mother looked in her direction.

She hadn't recognized her, thank the gods, because she was at a distance when she looked. Or perhaps because she thought it impossible that her daughter returned from the dead. Arya had painted a convincing picture of Beth and her mother had not seen through it.

Part of her… part of her wished that she had. That she had rushed to embrace her. She missed her so much.

But she wouldn't. Two years ago, the police found a body which they somehow identified as Arya Stark. Her mother had no reason to question it. Even if she did see shades of her daughter in this stranger, Beth, she would assume it was a coincidence, or her mind playing tricks on her.

When Arya joined the Faceless Men, she knew she might never return home. But she did not expect them to fake her death. It made sense, she supposed. They were faceless and nameless. They needed her to be able to move outside without being identified as Arya Stark. But Arya felt tremendous guilt when she realized her family must hold another funeral, only a year after the last one.

There was no other choice, Arya thought. I had to protect them. I couldn't lose anyone else.

Arya had seen Robb as well. At one point, he stood nearly right in front of her, making conversation with Margaery Tyrell. Thankfully, he never noticed her. She was a shadow on the side of the room to him. One that could not possibly be his long dead sister.

He looked good after three years. Older, but in control of the room. Their dad always said he would be a natural at business and it seemed he was proving him right. He would be proud of him. Arya was proud of him too.

But she had to stand there, trapped behind Beth Rivers, and suffer in silence.

Thankfully, they were the only members of her family who showed up, so she was spared anymore heart wrenching meetings. And she was especially grateful for Myrcella, who was eager to get to Tyrion's party. A weight lifted from Beth's shoulders, allowing her to exist more comfortably. Finally, she could go somewhere no one knew either of her faces.

It was good that they had gone to the Gala though. It allowed Beth to meet Jaime Lannister for the first time. She had not completely figured him out. All she knew at the moment was that his smile was fake but convincing. She also knew that until recently, he had been a police officer. The police had been useless in the investigation of her father's death, but perhaps that was by design. Maybe there had been evidence and Jaime had gotten rid of it on behalf of his family. He had connections, and he had the ability to get away with murder if he needed to.

His smile was pleasant… but she would discover soon what he was hiding beneath it. She planned to do the same with his younger brother-her next target.

Tyrion Lannister's party was downtown in the penthouse of a skyscraper. When they pulled up on the street below, Beth could already see the flickering of colored lights from the top and Myrcella jumped up and down excitedly.

"All right Phillip, I'll call you when I need you again," she told the driver. Then she jumped over to Beth and pulled her along with her. "Come on. This will be fun. Uncle Tyrion always throws wonderful parties."

"You know I'm not here to have fun, Miss," Beth told her.

"Well, then you can watch me have fun," Myrcella replied.

The moment they entered the penthouse, Beth could tell that it would be a nightmare to keep track of Myrcella in this place. There were so many people and the flashing of the lights made it hard to see people. But then again, she hoped no one would give Myrcella trouble at her uncle's party. Tyrion was a small Lannister, but he was still a Lannister.

The host in question found them the moment they stepped through the door.

"Cella! You made it." Tyrion Lannister caught his niece's hand gave it a kiss. "The party is better with you. Just be safe, yes? Just because you're an adult doesn't mean you can do whatever you want."

"I know, I know," Myrcella said. "Oh, Tyrion this is Beth Rivers. She's the bodyguard mother hired for me."

Tyrion gave Beth a once over. "Your mother hired a bodyguard, did she? Well, if that's the case, I'm guessing she's no fun at all."

"That's not what I'm paid for, sir," Beth said.

"That would be a yes," Tyrion said. "Well, have a drink anyway, Beth Rivers."

"I can't drink on the job."

"Well, that makes you different from my sister at the very least." Tyrion flashed her a grin. "There are non-alcoholic drinks. Feel free to partake in that. First one is on me."

Beth offered him a smile. "Thank you, sir."

"I insist that you call me Tyrion," he said. "You're on my family's payroll, but my father cut me off, so you're not on my payroll. It's Tyrion ."

Beth nodded once. "Tyrion then."

"That's not fair," Myrcella exclaimed. "You won't call me Myrcella."

"Because I do work for you, Miss."

"That's true," Tyrion said. "Come, Cella. You don't want to get your dear friend Beth into trouble with your mother. Enjoy the party. We can focus on getting you two on a first name basis later."

Beth watched Tyrion lead Myrcella away, and she quickly wiped the smile from her face. She had come here to meet Tyrion to see if he might be a potential suspect. But he was so charming she found it very hard to imagine him murdering her father. His smile was just as false as his brother's, but they were different somehow. Tyrion's seemed warmer and more cheerful.

She would watch him throughout the night, she decided, but she did not expect to find anything of interest.

Beth found a good place against the wall near the bar which stretched all the way across the room. She could see Myrcella from here toward the middle of the bar laughing with a few of her friends. There was no one in the vicinity that seemed like a threat to her, so Beth relaxed a bit against the wall.

Then came a flash of red hair.

Beth's eyes widened as she focused on the woman who had just stepped up to the bar right in front of her. A tall, willowy girl with long red hair, impeccable make-up and Tully blue eyes. Sansa.

Seeing her so suddenly nearly knocked every ounce of Beth out of Arya. It had been hard enough seeing her mother and brother at the gala but at least she had expected that and had kept her distance. But Sansa… Sansa was right there. And she was looking at her. For just a split second, her sister looked up and noticed her through the press of bodies and Arya knew she would have to make a quick escape. But seconds later, Myrcella stepped between them.

"Sansa, it's good to see you. I feel like it's been ages," she said cheerfully. "I didn't see you at the gala."

"I couldn't bring myself to face them," Sansa said with a small smile. "You know how the press was… after Joffrey."

What does she mean after Joffrey? Arya thought. Her sister had a short stint of dating Joffrey when they were in school but… but she had broken that off a long time ago. Surely they hadn't gotten back together, had they?

"I understand," Myrcella said. "Forget about him. I'll get you a drink. My treat."

"Thanks," Sansa said. "Gin martini. Extra olives."

Arya swallowed thickly. Sansa always liked olives. Not that Beth Rivers would know that, but it was so hard to remember Beth when Sansa was right there in front of her.

Myrcella got her a drink and Sansa thanked her before moving on to mingle with some of her friends and Arya let out a breath, returning to watching the comings and goings of the guests. She tried to find Tyrion in the crowd again. She was meant to be watching him. But he was quickly fading on her suspect lists. Nothing about his demeanor suggested that he could kill someone. He certainly wouldn't kill anyone for the sake of the Lannister business. He clearly didn't care about that if he was throwing this part on the same night as the King's Landing Charity Gala.

And anyway, he was the most likable of the Lannisters she had met so far, excluding perhaps Tommen and Myrcella who were only half Lannisters. Perhaps Joffrey had taken all the unlikable traits before they were born.

There was a commotion near the door, and Beth glanced over to see what was happening. She let out a breath. Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

Sure enough, Joffrey was making a grand entrance to the party, and the seas parted for him. He was an asshole, but he was still popular. Being the heir to two family fortunes-Baratheon and Lannister-did that. Lots of people considered money a replacement for a personality.

Instinctively, Arya looked for Sansa again and found her back at the bar. She tensed when she noticed Joffrey, hunching slightly over her glass. That was the look of a person who desperately wanted to go unnoticed.

But that had never been Sansa's specialty. Sansa had stood out in every crowd from the time they were children. She drew friends to her with ease and often she found herself at the center of attention. She could not just switch that off when convenient.

So, Joffrey noticed her.

Arya could not hear them from this far away, but she could read their body language. The way he sauntered up and leaned over the bar right next to her. The way his arm crept around her hunched shoulders. Sansa ducked under his arm, pushing away, her eyes wide. He reached out to grab her arm.

Arya stepped forward instinctively, every fiber of her being demanding that she cross the room and punch Joffrey square in the nose. It would get her fired, but for a moment, Arya did not care. Not even a little.

But before Joffrey could pull Sansa back to him, Tyrion interceded.

"Nephew, where are your manners? I don't think she wants to talk to you."

He spoke loudly. Loud enough to draw attention from others. Joffrey took a step back at that. "We were just talking, Uncle. I don't need your help."

"I'm not helping you," Tyrion said. "And this is my party. I make the rules. And I have a new rule. You're not allowed to talk to redheads for the rest of the night."

Joffrey's lips curled into a sneer as he leaned down closer to Tyrion. "You can't-"

Tyrion smacked him across the face. For a minute there was silence in the room. "I told you nephew. I make the rules. I don't like them being broken."

Half of the guests kept quiet, not wanting to root against Joffrey. But the other half let out a cheer for the slap. Arya had wanted to join them. The smack had just made Tyrion rise in her esteem.

Joffrey looked for a moment like he might protest, but another man slid up behind Tyrion, this one much taller. He looked like the kind of person who fought for a living.

"Maybe you should leave, boy," he said. "This party may be a bit to adult for you."

"I am an adult," Joffrey protested.

"Wonders never cease," Tyrion said. "Get out, or I'll have my man throw you out."

There was no way for Joffrey to save face now. All he could do was look down disdainfully and claim the party was rotten all along. Then he spun and left with a few other friends. When he was gone, Tyrion stood up all the table. "Sorry for the disturbance. Next round on me!"

A cheer went up and at once the party resumed as normal. Arya looked for Sansa again in the crowd and found her standing up against the wall, her arms wrapped around herself. Tyrion brought her a drink and said something. Arya could not have hoped to hear it, but at the very least, Sansa smiled.

"What a mess," Myrcella said, appearing by Beth's side. "Joffrey just can't help but make trouble everywhere he goes. I'm glad Uncle Tyrion knows how to handle these things. That's Sansa Stark. She's my brother's ex-girlfriend. They broke up a little over a year ago."

A little over a year.

So they had dated again. Arya felt nauseous at the very thought of it.

"I'm glad it ended. Sansa deserves way better than him," Myrcella said. "You know, I think she knew that. She was just acting out a bit. Her family had a rough time. I'm sure you saw the papers. First her father died in a car crash and then her little sister disappeared." She sighed. "I always felt bad for the Starks. At least, when my father died, we weren't very close." She put a hand over her mouth. "Oh… I shouldn't have said that."

Arya swallowed hard. "So… her sister died then?"

"Yes," Myrcella said. "They found her body under a bridge. You know, I think it was pretty soon after that Joffrey and Sansa started dating again."

Guilt shot through Arya's chest like a lightning bolt. She knew what Joffrey was like. He could put on a show when he needed to and seem like a charming, normal guy. But beneath all of that, he was horrid. She hated to think of Sansa spending even one moment alone with him.

"But that's all over now," Myrcella said. "Uncle Tyrion won't let Joffrey back in so she's safe."

Arya let out a breath, letting Beth back in to take over. Sansa was safe now. She didn't have to worry.

Besides, she didn't have a right to protect her. She was the one who had disappeared for three years and left the rest of her family behind to deal with the grief.

Whatever happened in the past three years… Arya could not help but feel responsible.

Myrcella was quite enjoying the party. She enjoyed being in crowds like this. It made one feel not so alone.

She hated being alone at night. Not that she was afraid of the dark. Just the emptiness. The silence. Sometimes, the Lannister manor seemed so large and it swallowed her whole. She couldn't stand how much empty space there was. But here, in a room packed with people, there was no space and there was no silence.

There was no space between her and Trystanne Martell either.

It thrilled her to see him at this party. Normally a Martell wouldn't come to a Lannister party. But her Uncle Tyrion had made friends amongst the Martells ever since her grandfather cut him off.

She found him at the bar, and he bought her a drink. Somewhere along the line, they had started kissing. She liked how he kissed-soft and sweet and just a little awkward. She was probably awkward too. She had so much to drink already and her mind was all a fog.

"My mother would kill me if she knew I was here," she told him when they parted for a moment

"What?" he asked, because it was too loud to hear.

She started to repeat herself but then they were kissing again, and she decided it didn't matter.

Her mother would kill her if she knew she was here, kissing a Martell. But there was something exciting about that. Her mother was always so busy with work. She didn't have much time for her. If she knew about this… oh, she would make time.

She would spend that time yelling and lecturing Myrcella on responsibility and 'thinking about the family'. But it was something at least.

Myrcella blinked hard to clear her vision. She had been so distracted by her thoughts; she hadn't realized she was no longer kissing Trystanne. He had gotten distracted by some other friends and was all the way across the room now. Did that make her sad? Angry? No… neither of those. She didn't really feel anything beneath the weight of the drink.

"Miss?"

Myrcella blinked a few times, focusing on her bodyguard who stood right beside her.

"It's okay, Beth," she said with a sleepy smile. "I'm not in danger."

"You may be in danger of passing out if you have any more drinks," Beth said. "It's late. I texted your driver. I think we should get you home."

Myrcella nodded once. Yes. They probably should. She was feeling quite drunk. She let Beth guide her from the room. She said a quick goodbye to her uncle before she left, almost stumbling as she bent down to kiss his forehead. And then they were off.

Once out in the hallways, Myrcella felt a sense of relief flood over her. Quiet. Quiet at last. It was so loud in there that she had lost track of her own thoughts.

"Mm… that was fun," she murmured, letting her eyes drift slightly closed. She didn't need them open. Beth would guide her.

"I've seen you with that boy before," Beth said. "Who is he?"

Myrcella gave Beth a little smile. "Miss Rivers are you prying into my personal business ?"

Beth looked away. "Forgive me, Miss."

"Stop Beth, I'm teasing," Myrcella giggled, pulling her on down the hallway toward the elevator. "His name is Trystanne Martell. Do you know what that means?"

"I'm afraid not, Miss," Beth said.

"It means I shouldn't be kissing him. But I am," Myrcella said. "My family and his family don't like each other. The Lannister side I mean. I think grandfather almost broke their business once. He's very ruthless with competitors, you know. No survivors." She spun around in a circle. "But Trystanne and I aren't involved in all of that, so we don't mind. And it's fun, don't you think? Just a little rebellion. It's like a song. Two young lovers who shouldn't be together because of a family feud. Have you heard a song like that?"

"Something like that, yes," Beth said, guiding her into the elevator.

Myrcella had as well. She had heard all the most popular songs. So many of them talked about forbidden love affairs and made them sound very exciting. Myrcella had not done a great deal of exciting things in her life. She was always concerned with following the rules. But this… this felt like a good start.

"I'm not even sure I like him," Myrcella continued when the elevator opened, and she stumbled out into the front hall. "It's just that… well I know he's trouble because he's a Martell and I'm half a Lannister. And it's not good for me to cause trouble, but sometimes I want to you know." She spun to look at Beth, wobbling a bit in her heels. "Joffrey always causes trouble, and that's bad. But he got all the attention because of it. Even when my parents were still together. They always talked about him, paid attention to him. And they paid attention to Tommen because he was the baby. The youngest. Sometimes they forgot all about me."

For some stupid reason, she felt tears burning at her eyes and her throat felt thick. Why? She had just been at a party. She was having fun. Why was she crying now? But she couldn't stop talking the words just kept pouring out of her stupid little mouth.

"I don't think my father ever remembered me. He forgot my birthday some years and… and went weeks without calling. And mother. Well, she's so busy with work and Joffrey and I try not to be a bother, but I wish she would notice me more, you know? So maybe she'll notice me if I go to parties like this and… and kiss boys I'm not supposed to kiss. Do you think?" She looked at Beth as her vision blurred. "Do you think that will work, Beth?"

Beth looked at her with a pitying expression in her brown eyes. "Your mother notices you. She wouldn't have hired me otherwise. She cares about you, really. It would devastate her if something happened to you."

Myrcella hiccupped. "I don't want to have to wait for something to happen though."

"I know." Beth rested a hand on her arm. "You should talk to her then. I'm sure she would understand, Myrcella."

Myrcella nodded once, hurrying to wipe away her tears. Then she let out a little laugh as she realized something. "Beth?"

"Yes."

"You called my Myrcella." She smiled brightly. "You should do that again."

Beth shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Well… don't tell your mother if I do, Miss."

Myrcella sighed. Stiff and professional as always. But she supposed that was her job. She fumbled for her phone and checked for a text from the driver. Sure enough, there it was.

"Oh! Phillip is here. Right outside." She looped an arm through Beth's, guiding her through the door. She was already beginning to forget her tears. Emotions passed quickly when one was drunk, and she was back to being happy. "Sorry for keeping you out so late, Beth."

"That's all right," Beth said. "I am being paid."

Phillip stepped out of the car to greet them. "Hello, Miss. Did you have a good night?"

"Yes, Phillip. A very good night," Myrcella said, letting a little bounce come into her step as she crossed the sidewalk. But then Beth's grip tightened her arm, and she stopped her.

"Hold on."

Myrcella's brow furrowed. "What is it Beth?"

That's when the gunshot echoed through the street and the front of Phillip's head burst open.

And Myrcella screamed.

When Arya was in the House of Black and White, they once tasked her to spend the whole day practicing with her gun without rest. Not shooting the gun. Getting into position. Pulling the trigger was the very last step. Before that came the position of the torso, the angle of the feet, the extension of the arm, the grip, and the position of the finger. And then… the seeing.

" Do not aim," the Hawk had told her. That was what people called him around the House of Black and White. She did not know his real name. "If you practice enough, you won't have to. If you practice enough, when you raise your gun… you will know where the bullet is going without having to look."

It was muscle memory for Arya the moment she heard the gunshot. In one beat of her heart, she shoved Myrcella behind the car. In the next, she drew her gun and crouched beside her. Myrcella was trembling, her eyes wide.

"Oh, my gods," she mumbled. "Someone is shooting at us. They… oh gods, they shot Phillip."

Yes. Phillip was already dead. A shot to the head would do that. It also meant that the marksman was skilled, but close. She pulled off her coat and tossed it out from behind the car. Two more gunshots at the movement, but now she knew exactly where they were coming from.

She stood. She raised her gun. She fired. And she hit her target twice in the chest. He sank to his knees, blood already bubbling from his mouth. Then he crumpled over onto the cobblestones. Only then did Arya register a shooting pain in her arm. He had gotten another shot off and carved a deep hole in the side of her shoulder which now gushed blood.

"Beth," Myrcella said in a panic. "You're… you're bleeding."

"It's a graze," Arya murmured. She couldn't think like Beth right now. Not in the heat of the moment. "Get in the car, Myrcella. There could be more of them."

Myrcella didn't move. She was frozen stiff, yet quivering just enough for Arya to see.

" Quickly, " she snapped.

Myrcella obeyed, scrambling into the passenger's seat. Arya circled around the car and clambered behind the wheel. Her left sleeve was practically dyed red, but the adrenaline kept the pain from setting in. She had trained to deal with pain during her endurance training.

But Myrcella was not convinced. "B-Beth you need to go the hospital. You're bleeding a lot."

"No," Arya said. The pain hadn't panicked her, but the hospital? If she went to the hospital, then they would see through her cover. They would see Arya Stark. She could already feel Beth slipping away in the midst of the adrenaline. "No hospitals. I'm fine. I promise. I'll get you home." She swallowed hard. "Call… call your mother for me. Tell her what happened."

Myrcella obeyed though the phone trembled so wildly in her hands that she could barely type in the number. "Shit," she cursed under her breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Myrcella," Arya said. "Listen to me. Look at me." She glanced to the side as she drove. "We're safe, all right. You're safe. I've got you. Now breathe… and call your mother."

Myrcella took a deep breath. Then nodded and dialed, calmer this time. And Arya focused on the road again. She had to get Myrcella home. Then she could worry about the bullet wound.

And about becoming Beth again.