She stood above the three prone bodies of her attackers. She must admit she was a little disappointed. She had not had to draw a weapon or even lower her hood. The three were skilled, but their fighting style was very familiar to her, so defeating them was more a matter of battling the odds than anything they could have thrown at her. The sword under her cloak was itching to be drawn, but their deaths would be meaningless. She was here for a very specific reason and it was not to kill three lackeys who were dumb enough to greet her with such hostility.

On the trek here, she had spotted three different look out posts. While invisible to the untrained eye, she had spotted them with little difficulty. She knew her arrival would not be a surprise. This wasn't a stealth mission anyway. She was out in the open looking to gain an audience. She knew this would end in confrontation, with swords drawn and blood spilled. There were only two people left in this world she felt could best her in combat. One had sent her and the other she was about to face.

"Sent" really isn't the right word for it, she mused. All her life, she had been sent places and ordered to do things. This was the first time she had been asked politely with the full acknowledgement that this would be tough and that she know the risks. But she wasn't stupid, she knew the risks. The trip alone was fraught with risk. Sheer cliffs, unseen drop-offs, unpredictable weather, and possible booby traps, it was an unforgiving maze of risk, but it was meant to be. It was meant to scare off enemies and the uncommitted alike. The first true test of skill before arriving. However, for her, it was a breeze.

The fact that she was asked politely was one of the reasons she was doing this. She was honest enough with herself to acknowledge that even if the request had come out as an order that brokered no argument, she still would have happily taken this mission. The affection she held for the man making the request was unquestionable to her but unknown to many. Not a romantic affection in any sense of the word, but an unparalleled respect for a man who always tried to do the right thing and always looked out for others before himself. She knew the world would be a better place with more people like him in it.

This was possibly the first time he ever truly asked her for something without pushing for the answer he wanted. Even after she had made multiple attempts to kill him or leverage him into doing her bidding, he was still kind to her. Unlike most men, he wasn't using the kindness to try and get her into bed, but he was kind because he respected her and saw her as an ally in his fight, whatever that fight may be. He viewed them as equals, even if she saw him as the leader.

So here she stood, in the entranceway of a facility she had never seen before, after trekking across torturous territory, waiting for one of the two people who she felt could kill her in a fight all because a kind man asked her politely. What was the world coming to?

She was brought from her musing when her target appeared before her. "Normally, I don't appreciate being summoned in my own home, but I need to meet the person who neutralized three of my better students."

The clipped tones, the way she stood, the slight smirk were all the same as she remembered. She even looked the same, all these years later. She almost felt like a little girl again, in the presence of the woman she had idolized. But they weren't the same people anymore, too many years had passed and too much had happened. She had been asked by the one person she cared about above all others and she wasn't going to let foolish memories of the past derail her.

"I would at least like to know who you are before I kill you," her target continued.

She reached up with both hands and lowered her hood. "Hello sister."

Nyssa was rewarded when she noticed Talia's eyes widen slightly before returning to normal. "Nyssa," she said and very slightly smiled, but her body stayed posed for action. "It has been too long. You've grown."

"And you've stayed the same."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Nyssa reached into her cloak and pulled out the arrow Oliver had given her before she left and threw it on the floor between them. The very same arrow Talia had embedded into Oliver's leg when he faced Chase. "My husband sends his regards."

"My sister married to the playboy?" Talia asked rhetorically. "I have to admit, I didn't see that coming," she continued with a patronizing smile. "And he sends his wife to clean up his messes. So, here to kill me little sister?"

Nyssa takes a step to the side to clear herself the obstruction that was her welcoming party. "Blood doesn't need to be spilled here today," she started before looking down. "Well, any more than has already been spilled. Technically, Oliver only asked me to distract you while he dispatched of your wayward student."

"Yes, distract me," Talia smiled as she eyed Nyssa. "I'm sure he wants me distracted with a sword through the stomach."

"You did train someone whose sole purpose for the training was to get revenge on Oliver."

"He killed our father!"

"Yes, I know," Nyssa answered right back. "And I was there. And I helped him!"

There it was. Nyssa had made the admission to Talia of her role in their father's death. Oliver had warned her about this. That Oliver killing Ra's was the catalyst for Talia training Chase. That Talia wanted her revenge for his death. This was a bridge that Nyssa was going to cross, knowing that this would most likely result in a fight to the death.

"You?!" was Talia's strangled response as she tried valiantly to hold back her anger.

Nyssa took a deep breath before she spoke. "He married me off to a man I didn't love for his own selfish purposes. He stripped me of being the Heir and gave it to a relative outsider."

Talia gave a small chuckle. "The man he married you off to, the "relative outsider" is the man you are here in service of," she spat.

"Oliver and I have found common ground, born from our mutual distaste for our father," Nyssa answered calmly. "The League was a shadow of what it should be and I couldn't abide by his rule any longer," and Nyssa knew she had to play to her sister's vanity in order to spare her life. "I wasn't strong like you, I couldn't just leave."

"Don't patronize me. You disbanded the League after Oliver defeated Merlyn for you. You're on your own, you are plenty strong," Talia said, still with tinges of anger in her voice. "Though," she said, changing gears, "there is a common pattern here. Merlyn and father, getting a man to do your dirty work for you. Almost as if you can't handle it. Maybe father was right, you weren't fit to be Heir."

She was goading her now, Nyssa knew. She was trying to get Nyssa to give into emotion, to do something stupid. When you're emotional, you make bad decisions. The League had taught her that. Her father had drilled that into her at an early age. Everything Nyssa had done, her father had admonished her, with some variation of "why can't you be more like your sister" or "your sister would have done it better." Nyssa had lashed out early at those comments, acting purely on emotion. It never ended well for her. She learned to not let it affect her and even as her father kept using it, it stopped affecting her. Talia was a rank amateur when compared to their father.

"You have two options Talia," Nyssa began, effectively ignoring her barbs. "You can either leave this place, never take on new students, and live a life of solitude or you can die right here, right now."

"Big talk from the former head of the League of Assassins," Talia said with a smile. "And I bet some people are actually scared by that. But all I see is the little girl in pigtails who would sneak into my room at night scared of the dark." Talia began to pace back and forth in front of Nyssa before speaking again. "I prefer option three. I kill you and let my students throw your body into the snow outside," and with that, she drew her sword from her cloak.

Nyssa reach into her cloak as well and pulled out her sword. "If that's how it has to be then. It was good seeing you again," and then their swords clanged together.

"Hey, we just got a package," said Felicity as she entered the lair with a smile on face. "It's for you," she said as she extended it toward Oliver.

"Who's it from?"

If possible, Felicity smiled even more. "The return address says "Mrs. Oliver Queen.""

At this, Oliver reached for the box. It had been two weeks since Oliver had asked Nyssa to distract Talia. He had only received a two word text from her since that read "she's dead." Nyssa had not responded to any of Oliver's attempted follow-ups.

Oliver put the box down on the table and moved to open it. He felt Felicity over his shoulder looking, intrigued as he was by the package. He opened it and the first thing he noted was a letter. He flipped it open and read the first line quickly before his eyes widened and he looked deeper in the box.

"Ewwww, what the…" and Felicity quickly turned and put distance between herself and the box. Inside was Talia's left hand, packed in dry ice. Oliver reopened the letter and reread it. "A hand for a hand" was the simple missive. Oliver couldn't help but smile a bit a Nyssa's attempt at humor.

He then noticed further writing near the bottom. "P.S. tell Felicity that she'll be my date for dinner next time I'm in town. She's just my type."

Oliver rolled his eyes and handed the letter over to Felicity before walking away muttering "blonde haired ex-girlfriends indeed."

Before he got more than a dozen steps away he heard Felicity exclaim "oooo, I got me a hot date," and Oliver just kept walking.