Moonlight flooded the courtyard where Oliver restlessly for his sister. What was taking so long? Had she changed her mind?
Finally, he spotted her, making her way across the courtyard toward him with steps quickened by nervousness. She had a knapsack slung over one shoulder, and she had traded her usual dress for attire more practical for traveling- a tunic, leggings, and sturdy leather boots.
"Are you ready?" Oliver asked when she reached him. Thea nodded, but asked "Are we really doing this Oliver? Are we really about to go sneaking off into the night like thieves and leave behind everything we've ever known?
"A gilded cage is still a cage," Oliver reminded her. "Mother has only gotten more controlling since Father died. We need to get out of here now, before her hold over who we are and how we live our lives becomes absolute. We may never have another chance." Thea nodded again, looking small and frail and fearful.
"Come here," Oliver murmured, drawing her into his embrace. "Everything will be fine. I'll be with you every step of the way." Thea nodded and pushed away from him.
"Let's go," she said. "Before I lose my nerve." Oliver turned away from her and climbed up onto the courtyard wall, then reached a hand down to help her up. A moment later, they were standing on the other side of the wall, closer to true freedom than they'd ever been.
They made it only as far as the next town before their mother's men-at-arms caught up with them. The last Oliver saw of his sister was her screaming his name and reaching desperately for him as they dragged her through the door of the inn, leaving him wondering why they didn't take him too…
Oliver's eyes flicked open. Through his chamber window, the sun could be seen rising over the mountains far in the east. He sat up in bed, dragging a hand over his face. He hadn't thought oft- hadn't allowed himself to think of- the last time he'd seen his sister in years. To dream of it now felt like a portent of something. Or at least it would have if Oliver had been the sort of person who believed in fate. He dressed, shivering in the brisk morning air, then went to the kitchen to break his fast. Dig was already there when he arrived. He grunted by way of greeting. He wasn't the most talkative person in the morning. After a time, he spoke.
"I would strongly advise against patrolling today," he said. His deep rumbling bass voice rattled off the kitchen's stone walls. "There are rumors circulating that your mother is looking for you again."
"My mother is looking for the Green Arrow," Oliver corrected, swallowing down the last of his breakfast. "She has no reason to suspect that he and I are one and the same." Dig narrowed his eyes. It was clear he didn't appreciate Oliver's apparently flippant attitude in response to the news.
"Still," he said after a moment. "Be careful out there. Don't get yourself into trouble trying to rescue damsels in distress."
"How many damsels in distress am I likely to encounter in the middle of the forest, John?" Oliver asked as he went to the armory to retrieve his weapons. If Dig answered, he didn't hear it.
Outside, Oliver drew in a deep breath of the crisp morning air and smiled. He felt energized. He felt alive. He felt...complete. He may not have believed in fate, but he still felt deep in his soul that this was what he had been put on the world to do. He could help so many more people this way than he ever could have in his family hall, trying to navigate around court life and political intrigue. Hearing a disturbance somewhere off in the distance, he set off to do what he did best.