Hi! I hope you enjoy this. I only own Mina, my little addition to the Merlyn clan. Please tell me what you think as my ideas are not fully formulated yet.
The last thing I remembered was the boat capsizing. Losing my footing and slamming into the wall on the other side of the room. Glass shattering as I managed to hit a mirror and framed picture. Ribs bruising as I slid across the room in another direction, crashing into a chest. A massive cut opening on my calf. Yelling for Oliver and Sara, as though they weren't dead. There was water, a whole lot of water, and I was sucked out of the Queen's Gambit like a rag doll.
Then I was lost at sea, tossed about in a raging storm, calling out for my brother's best friend. Finally day broke and I was floating on a piece of driftwood, trying not to die of thirst.
I should have known, I thought. I should have known this trip would be horrible, miserable, ATROCIOUS.
When Oliver first invited me to go on a vacation with him, I was ecstatic. Finally, I thought. Finally Oliver sees me as more than Tommy's sister. Boy, was I wrong. When I showed up to the docks, bags packed and full of my most attractive outfits, I saw Sara Lance getting onboard with Oliver's arm draped around her. Turns out, I was invited along because Robert wanted someone else capable of captaining the ship around.
I don't even know what I could possibly have seen in Oliver at the time. He was a spoiled brat who slept with every woman in sight… except for me, of course.
That's what you get, Mina. This debilitating crush on Oliver Queen will actually cost you your life, I told myself.
I couldn't be sure of just how long it had been since the boat went down. It could be days, it could be hours, but it'd been long enough for me to come to terms with the fact that I was the lone survivor. I tried to raise my wounded leg out of the water and onto the driftwood, Titanic-style, but found I was too exhausted to do it. Judging by the blood in the water and the pain, my shin wasn't doing that well.
What about sharks? I wordlessly questioned. Oh well. Let them come.
When I began to feel myself finally giving up, my manicured grip on the ship's wreckage slipping, I saw land. At first, I wondered if it was a hallucination because the salt water had already made me sick once, but it never faded from view. Eventually, I and my piece of wood washed ashore.
When I learned the name of the island was Lian Yu and that it meant "Purgatory," I had never heard anything more fitting.
I was torn between hoping the place was deserted and that it was populated. I was scared either way. My best guess was that I was somewhere near China so tangling with the wrong people was a pretty big possibility. But I just wanted to go home, to lay eyes on someone who would tell me it would be okay, like Tommy.
A wave pushed me farther up the beach at that. I groaned and coughed, sand clumping my black hair. My fingers reluctantly let go of my makeshift raft as I stared ahead at a forest. I knew if I could reach the trees, the likelihood of finding water would skyrocket. And I was in desperate need of water.
I looked around the beach for any signs that Oliver and Sara had made it but there were none. I was the only one to wash ashore, sand coating my pale skin and blood streaking the water behind me.
Another wave hit me forcefully and I dragged myself away from the surf, my hands clawing at the beach. Stand up, I commanded myself, wiping dark sand away from my round cheeks. I managed to sit upright before stopping. I decided to assess the damage to my leg before anything else. I sucked a breath in through my teeth when I finally got up the courage to take a look at it.
A gnarly gash took up the better part of my right calf. The salt water had undoubtedly been good for it but the wound was still the worst I'd ever had. I thought about tearing off part of my flimsy silk nightgown and wrapping it but then, I'd be left with practically no clothing whatsoever. I had planned for seduction on this trip. What I got was third-wheeling on a romantic getaway between a cheating billionaire and the sister of the girl he was cheating on. I shook my head at my own stupidity.
"Damn your beautiful face, Oliver Queen," I whispered through cracked lips. "Please don't be dead." I told myself that I couldn't focus on Oliver, Sara, and Robert at the moment. If I didn't get water soon, it would be my death that was imminent.
Act on instinct, I told myself, thinking of what my father would do. Survive.
I used both hands to push myself up. It was the hardest thing I had ever done. My legs gave out from under me the moment I was fully standing and I crashed to the sand with a groan. I'd been in the water too long. I tried again, doing my best to balance atop wobbly legs. I pushed my hair back out of my face with shaking hands and futilely attempted to brush sand off my arms. I made it to the edge of the forest by sheer luck and babying my wound. All I was aware of was how cold it was. My bare feet plodded against the ground, dirt covering pink toenails. My ankles turned and I grabbed a branch to keep from crumbling to my knees. The gash on my leg started bleeding again, rushing over my ankle and foot. My vision started to blur.
Finally, I saw it. A stream. Sure, there were dangers to consuming it but as far as I knew, I would be dead soon anyway. I fell to my knees and drank. Even though the water was cold, I eased my leg in, wincing as I tried to clean the wound. I gagged when I touched it.
Blood soaked the leather bracelet around my wrist. Tommy had given that to me when our mother was killed. "It's a good luck charm," he'd told me. "It'll keep you safe." He always told me he made it "just for you, Mina!" but a flap inside said, "Made in China." Still, I'd worn the bracelet ever since, never taking it off even to shower. On this island, it would be my only reminder of home.
I poured the cold water over my leg one last time. It needed stitches at least and cauterization at most. It would be more likely that I could cauterize it since I was more confident in starting a fire than stumbling on a needle and thread. What would Dad tell me to do? I wondered. Frankly, the gash on my leg would be the least of my father's worries. He'd tell me to find shelter first. Other things could come later.
He'd also tell me to protect myself but would fencing lessons really help out here on Lord of the Flies island? What could I use to hit somebody? A stick?
Shelter, I decided as I pushed myself to my feet. I needed to find shelter.
My wound throbbed with pain and it was all I could do to keep going. At times, I dragged my right foot behind me. I'm not sure whether I was hoping to find other people or just to find something like a cave. But I discovered the island wasn't deserted before I miraculously stumbled on shelter.
My first experience with Edward Fyers and Billy Wintergreen was entirely one-sided. I ducked behind a tree when I heard footsteps and voices. To this day, I wonder if they knew I was there, sinking onto the ground, holding my breath. But I knew how to be quiet. I knew how to blend in. My father taught me to be light on my feet years ago, along with some self-defense that would prove invaluable on this hellish island. After what happened to my mother, he wanted me to be able to marginally protect myself. "Tommy doesn't listen to me, not like you do, Mina," he stated one day. That was because I had forgiven him for abandoning us for years after my mom died… and Tommy never would.
I barely paid attention to what Fyers was saying except to know that I didn't like him. I was too busy focusing on not being seen. I began to lose feeling in my toes and the cut (which was a blessing in disguise) from the cold. I moved closer to the tree when they finally passed me by and I glimpsed the first of many foes I would face on Lian Yu. Hand covering my mouth, I gawked at the size of Wintergreen, terrified of him already, and I will never forget the face of Edward Fyers. I wondered if I had stupidly avoided my ticket home but something told me I hadn't.
My second experience with Fyers and Wintergreen wouldn't go as well as this one had.
I waited behind that tree for what felt like hours, praying that the soldiers had passed me by. While I laid there, pretty nightgown coated in dirt and nails now chipped, I let myself freak out for only a few minutes. It was too cold to cry so I settled for putting my head in my hands. They were shaking and I had to bite my bottom lip to keep it from quivering.
I couldn't survive out here, not by myself. My leg would get infected. I'd freeze before I'd starve. I needed help and I knew I wouldn't receive it from the soldiers I'd seen. Pull yourself together, I ordered. Get up. Find shelter.
I used the tree to pull myself up onto numb feet. I went in the opposite direction of the soldiers. At least, I hoped I did. I'm not sure how long I wandered before I found the clearing but night had fallen and frankly, I was afraid. I stumbled into the grass of the clearing without giving it much thought, keeping pressure off my right leg. Then I saw it. I pushed dark hair out of my face to see the wreckage of a plane. I grinned and almost laughed when it occurred to me that I just might get out of this alive. My good luck seemed to end when I heard something behind me.
A hand covered my mouth and a knife was at my throat. I tried to pull away but the knife (a sword, really) just got closer to my jugular.
"Where are Fyers and his men?" my attacker demanded. I could tell he was large, probably could've killed Oliver or Tommy in one fell stroke. He dropped his hand from my mouth, only to place it across my midsection.
"The big guy in the mask?" I muttered. "Uh, I don't know. I think they were going in the opposite direction."
"Did Yao Fei send you?" It occurred to me that he had an accent; Australian. We weren't that far south, were we? Or was he just as out of place as I was?
"I don't know who that is. I don't know who those people are. I just hid from them, I swear." He shifted and the blade almost nicked me. I tried to grab it but only succeeded in almost slicing a finger off.
"Who are you?"
"I'm Mina Merlyn. I'm from Starling City and I've got money. I'll pay you whatever you want if you get me off this island!" My dad wouldn't bargain for me, that much I knew, but Tommy would. He had a full trust fund begging to be spent. And at the time, that's exactly what I was; a trust fund princess with no survival skills. In fact, my "skills" amounted to telling everyone that I could triple whatever they were currently paid. It took only a few weeks on Lian Yu for me to learn just how little people truly care about money or rescuing pretty girls. The pretty girls have to learn how to take care of themselves.
"How'd you get here?" he asked, ignoring my offer of money.
"I was shipwrecked. I- I think I'm the only survivor." Even though it was reluctant, he came to believe me. Later, I understood that he'd been smart in being suspicious. I've met a lot of people since then who were not at all what they seemed.
"Is that what happened to your leg?" I'd barely noticed that it was bleeding again. I nodded, head against his shoulder. "How'd you find this place?"
By "this place," I assumed he meant the clearing. "I've been trying to find shelter all day." My story rang true to him because the knife slowly moved away from my throat. "You're not one of those soldiers are you?"
"No, I'm not." Thank God, I thought. Chalk it up to being scared of a freaky mask or whatever you want, I was already wary of Fyers and his men.
"Then can you help me get off this island?"
"I think the better question is whether you can help me." He moved the knife and thrust me away from him. I put my arms out to keep from losing my balance. When I finally assessed the man in front of me, I knew I would never stand a chance against him. If killing me was what he wanted, he could do it at any point. He was staring at me too, taking in my ragged appearance. I can only imagine how I looked; bedraggled in a torn silk nightgown, shivering, my right leg about to give out from under me. Tabloids had once called me "as beautiful as her brother and father are handsome." I doubted I would ever look that way again. Finally, he shrugged, almost like he felt sorry for me and threw me the sword he was holding. That I was able to catch it was a miracle.
"You want me to fight you?" I asked in disbelief. The blade was heavy in my weak hands and I doubted I could lift it above my head. The small strap of my gown fell off my shoulder.
"I've gotta fight my way through an airstrip of those soldiers to get on my way off this place and I cannot do it on my own." I was still looking at him, dumbfounded, as he drew another sword from his back. "So yes, I want you to fight me."
"But you'll kill me."
"Then I'll find someone else." I backed away at that and he came at me. My eyes widened and I threw my sword up to block the blow from his. I was surprised when I heard the clang and felt heavy weight bear down on me.
I tried to remember the training I'd had in fencing classes over the years. Tommy had never taken one with me but Dad was good at fencing and impressing him had once been foremost on my mind. But fencing was more about discipline than fighting. I was more qualified to disarm than to strike.
I ducked the next swing through sheer luck and I tried to parry him. I never struck him a blow. Finally, my right leg buckled and I fell to the ground. He brought his sword down and I blocked him again. But I saw my moment. He was holding his blade with one hand and had it extended pretty far from his body, like we do in fencing. It wasn't that difficult to disarm someone like this so I decided to attempt it. I made like I was trying to get back up but kept my sword against his own. I slid my blade to almost his hilt and twisted. Disarming is often a complicated maneuver but somehow, I managed it. His sword fell out of his hand and I dropped mine before collapsing onto my back. Every muscle in my body twitched, either from the cold or exhaustion.
He laughed. "We may get out of this yet. I'm Slade Wilson." He extended a hand towards me and weakly, I took it. He pulled me to my feet. "Let me sew up that leg."
He helped me to the plane, which was in much better shape than I expected. He gave me a jacket (still the best gift I've ever been given) before making me sit down. I watched him clean the ugly gash on my leg and stitch it up, wincing. For someone so brutal, he was miraculously good at this sort of thing. Finally, he bandaged me from ankle to knee.
Little did I know that Lian Yu would be a constant cycle of someone getting injured while others tried to help.
He gave me some clothes so that I could "get out of whatever that is," gesturing at my nightgown. I took them graciously and changed while he had his back turned. They were, of course, huge. The pants dragged the ground and I had to tighten a belt around me. The shirt dwarfed my frame as did the jacket but I was grateful for them. I began to fold up the blemished silk gown but instead, I held it for a moment.
It had been beautiful when I bought it, a revealing pale pink gown designed to make men drool. Now its lace was torn, ocean water had stained it irreparably, and a strap had nearly fallen off. I held it to my chest for a second, my mind revolving around Oliver. I'd wanted him so badly that I would've betrayed Laurel just to lay a hand on him and now he was at the bottom of the ocean with her sister. I'd grown up with Sara and Oliver, been hopelessly in love with that boy since the day I met him. I wanted to cry about it, grieve them in the way they deserved, that young girl who'd barely begun college and the boy I'd adored since childhood. But I knew I couldn't. To honor them, the best thing I could do was survive. Survive to tell their families what happened to them. And survival meant I couldn't waste time grieving.
I folded up the skimpy gown and sat it behind me.
Starling City, 2012
Oliver and I are spirited away to a hospital the minute we set foot back in Starling City. They need to clean us up (for public image) and make sure we're physically okay. I expect they'll find me in top form because even though I should be riddled with scars, I have none. I take a real shower for the first time in years and it's worth smiling over. I finally allow myself to let it sink in. I am back in Starling. My father and brother are waiting for me, ecstatic that I'm alive. Oliver and I made it. But many other people didn't. The smile drops from my face.
They cut my waist-length black hair to my shoulders and Oliver's is shorn clean off. I don't let them get rid of the clothes I came home in, which includes a coat that is much too big for me and a plaid scarf. So what? I think. I'm sentimental.
I am inspected from head-to-toe. I'm in better physical condition than I was when I left. Not at all surprising. I hear the doctor tentatively broach the topic of emotional scars with my father. Just because I have no outward injuries doesn't mean that I'm all right. He follows that with what I expect is also told to Moira Queen; that the person they found might not be the person they lost. Honestly, I think that thrills my dad. "Mina's a survivor," he states. He doesn't know how true that is.
I ask my father not to tell Tommy what happened to me. I wouldn't be able to live down his questions and that's one thing you can say for Malcolm Merlyn; he knows when to be quiet. Oliver and I had discussed on the fishing boat that rescued us what our plan would be; say the island was deserted and that's where we were the entire five years. Truthfully, I ran into Oliver on Lian Yu not long before we were rescued. I'd thought him dead for years, since the freighter went down. He thought the same thing of me, surprised to see that I hadn't died onboard the freighter, as was commonly thought.
Coming home for the first time in years is wildly harrowing. Nothing has changed. My dad is ever the polished and unemotional businessman. I'm pleased he seems to understand what happened to me and that I won't ever want to speak of it. He tells me I've been through a "crucible" and that he understands more than I will ever know. Now that I'm back, he's confident that Tommy will finally take to him. That he will finally forgive him for abandoning us after my mother's murder. I want to ask about their reaction to my disappearance. Had there been a funeral? Had there been another extended trip where he left Tommy to deal with things in his own way? In many ways, Malcolm Merlyn can be described as a father in name only. From the outside looking in, it would appear that Tommy and I had never wanted for anything. That we had had the love of an incredible dad. But Tommy's real father had been Robert Queen. Since he never did a thing that our dad wanted, Tommy was punished for it with distance. I had been the suck-up that my father desired. Tommy was instead a party boy, blowing money on things that don't matter. I wonder if that has changed.
My father shows me my room when I get home and it is so well preserved as to be a tomb. It's a room that is more appropriate for a girl who still has some growing up to do, like the girl that washed up on Lian Yu; me with tangled long black hair, bags under my blue eyes, leg torn open, wearing that ridiculous dress. I had been so hilariously unprepared for what I would fall into. The dainty billionaire who once lived in this room had no place on Lian Yu and I had suffered for my inexperience, as had Oliver. There had been torture, pain, and extensive training for both of us. We had left home as children and were returning hardened adults.
My dad seems to sense my aversion to the room now, the frills and lace of it all. "I'll get rid of everything in it, if you want." His hand is against my shoulder and I have to resist flinching away from him.
"I'm not that girl anymore," I respond.
"I know." There is such understanding in that small statement that I contemplate telling my father everything. But I know I shouldn't. Oliver will be the only one I can truly be honest with. The door opens downstairs and my dad smiles. "There's Tommy."
I ran downstairs and saw him. He's just as handsome always, maybe even more so. He grabs me and his hug lifts me off the ground. I feel myself start crying, fingers digging into his back. Tommy was my crutch on Lian Yu. More than anything else, I thought about getting home to Tommy. Telling him I loved him. Telling him he got me through it. He groans beneath my grip as though I've injured him and I quickly pull away, wanting to apologize but Tommy doesn't realize anything's wrong. He doesn't know that I genuinely could have hurt him.
"It's really you," he declares in disbelief. His hands graze my arms before landing on my cheeks.
"Yeah, it is," I respond. For the first time in a long while, I grin.
"As soon as I heard you were back, I thought of all the good food you must've missed out on so I ordered your favorite!" Tommy exclaims. "A mushroom and olive pizza from Mario's!"
"Tommy, that's your favorite," I reply.
"Is it?" he questions and I laugh. I can't remember the last time I laughed.
"Well, let's eat it!" my dad says. Tommy nods as though he was hoping Dad was going to leave us alone. So, that hasn't changed either.
The mushroom and olive pizza is actually the best thing I've ever eaten. I devour half of it on my own. Tommy interrupts me mid-bite when he looks over at my wrist.
"You kept that terrible thing?" Tommy asks pointing at the bracelet he'd given me when we were kids. It is now coupled with another.
"Well, my brother made it for me," I respond as he rolls his eyes.
"Where'd you get the other? The gift shop in the Hong Kong airport?" My fingers cover the second leather strap around my wrist as though to protect it. Truthfully, I'd been tied up with it once. When I was cut free, Slade had knotted it around one wrist. It was one of those foolish times we believed we were actually going to get off that island. One bracelet had been to remember home, the other had been to remember Lian Yu. When we weren't rescued, I never removed it.
"It's just a reminder of the island," I reply.
"So what happened to you there? Just you and Ollie for five years? What'd you guys do all that time?" There's a tone of suggestion to his voice and he's even raised his eyebrows.
"Tommy," my father warns. He scoffs in return but doesn't ask any more questions.
Even though I am happy to see my family, particularly Tommy, I'm grateful when it is time to go to bed. For one thing, I will be alone and after spending practical years by myself, that's where I'm most comfortable. For another, Oliver has promised to bring me my things from the island.
It is long after Tommy and my father have gone to sleep before Oliver slinks through my window, tossing a bag to me. I don't need to ask whether the guards saw him. I know they didn't. Even when not wearing the hood, Oliver is too well-trained to ever be caught off-guard.
For a moment, in the dark, I understand what there is to see in Oliver Queen. He's gorgeous and these last five years have crafted him into someone worth caring about. I got it completely backwards, I think. I wasted time, valuable time, loving the old Oliver Queen. The drunk partier who seduced every woman he met. But the moment he started showing integrity, started to change into the man that now stands before me, my feelings for him faded. Maybe that can be chalked up to me changing too.
I clutch the bag to my chest as Oliver nods at me. I put it on my bed and unzip it. It's filled with odds and ends from Lian Yu. At the bottom is a torn pink nightgown that had been far too revealing. At the top is a pair of swords that I used to find heavy. There are other things in the bag. A bottle of medicinal herbs, a bow and quiver, a blanket. But the nightgown and the swords are the most important items in it. They're the bookends to my journey on Lian Yu. Where I started and where I ended.
"Thank you," I whisper.
"You're welcome," Oliver responds. He doesn't smile at me. He's not a big smiler anymore. "I also wanted to extend you an offer."
"I've already told you no." My hands start to shake, a very unfortunate side effect of something that happened to me three years ago.
"Mina, you're only in this position because of me."
I scoff before interrupting that thought. "Oh and don't I know it."
"But you can do something with it, something good." I roll my eyes. "You can help me right my father's wrongs."
"That's your vendetta, not mine." I turn away from him. I know that eventually Oliver will convince me to join him. He's still got some pull with me, for better or for worse.
"Why did you bring the swords home if you aren't going to use them?" My hands ball into fists.
"Do not make me angry, Oliver."
"This doesn't mean you have to be a killer. If all you want is to be backup, then that's what I'll use you as." He puts a hand on my shoulder. Yes, I will give in. "I know that you can do this. You're the only one in the city with the skill set I need. You're the only one I can trust."
"Well, if you want me to join you in any capacity at all, you're going to have to stop looking at me like I'm some rabid dog that you might have to put down."
"That is not how I look at you."
"Yes, it is." That's the saddest part about it. Oliver and I both saw what happened to Slade. I suppose it's only natural that he fears I've lost my mind too.
"You're in so much more control than that." I jerk away from him. "I know you think I owe you-"
"You shot me, Oliver. Yes, you owe me."
"That was an accident and you know it." He pauses before moving on. "What I'm trying to say is, we're home now. We're not on the island but we can use what we've learned. You don't know how many names are in that book, Mina. They are people who deserve what's coming to them. I know you don't want to lose control but bottling it up isn't healthy either."
"I just can't do that. I'm dangerous and I could just as easily hurt you."
"I don't believe that."
With that simple vote of confidence, I agree to it.