Disclaimer: WB/DC own these characters. I do not, just the original ideas. (I forgot this in first chapter. Oops. Don't own these wonderful characters there either, oh well.)
AN: Thank you so much for all the reviews, follows and favs. It does a heart good to know your hard work is appreciated! Here is the next chapter. I was going to take this story a different way (a more predictable way, I now realize) but with suggestions especially from Megth and Mz Valkyrie the story will now head in this direction. evil laugh so enjoy! Also a huge shout-out to Mellovesall for discussing with me "magical herbs" and other ideas to make Oliver's life miserable.
Also, to my faithful guest reviewer Sumana, thank you again so much for reading, reviewing, and leaving a name. So appreciated as well! Hope you continue to enjoy this story.
And this chapter could also be seen as my way of coping for what I was so afraid we would see tonight. Sigh. So hang on, and enjoy! Don't forget to review as well….for it will make me happy, and make me feel better as well!
Time passed for Oliver without his awareness of anything. He slowly became aware of his arms hurting in a strange but disheartening and familiar way, and of leaning against a cold surface. The survival instinct which had served him well over the past eight years was compelling him to open his eyes, but it was a struggle. Memories popped into his mind, and his eyes flew open. Recalling what had happened recently returned to his mind. His mouth dry, he remembered he was now at the mercy of Ra's, not knowing what his next plans were. Waking up now chained to a wall didn't help with the feeling of unease settling over him like a cloud.
First thing to do: test the restraints. He pulled on the chains and weren't surprised to find they were, without a doubt, secured tightly to the wall. Examining the manacles around his wrists, Oliver saw the same type of metal and technique from which the handcuffs from the bed were made. No appearance of a lock to be picked.
Noting the smooth walls surrounding him, Oliver's eyes travelled up to the small window at the top of the high ceiling. Bars were indeed on the window. Rays of sunshine shone through, indicating some kind of daytime hour. Wracking his brain, Oliver tried to remember what time it had been when he was awake last. Between the shock of finding himself alive and his talk with Ra's, coupled with his exhaustion, Oliver realized he hadn't had time then to figure out what time it had been. And now? He absolutely had no idea.
Checking within himself, he was pleased at least not to feel any other injury making itself known. He gingerly moved his abdominal muscles to assess the condition of his knife wound and was puzzled to feel no discomfort. Or bandage, now that he thought about it. There was no blood on the shirt he was now wearing, and no dressing on the wound. These finding could either mean days had indeed passed by, or he had been the recipient of a dunk in the Lazarus Pit.
Oliver slowly stretched his neck muscles by slowly extending his neck out to the right then the left while moving his head side to side. He felt remarkably well considering the fact he might have been spending much of his time standing upright. This puzzled him as well. Oliver was also surprised not to feel hunger pains, considering he had no recollection of eating since his last meal at the jail. Whenever that was. He wasn't liking all these facts, and he wasn't liking them at all. Ra's did say 'sometimes the ends do justify the means'. It was rapidly looking as though those 'means' included such things as torture, chemical manipulation and God knows what else.
His eyes were drawn to the door as he heard the unmistakable sounds of approaching footsteps. Oliver drew a deep cleansing breath as the door opened and Ra's walked in, followed by two of his guards.
"Hello, Oliver. How are you?" the dreaded voice of Ra's al Ghul, the leader of the deadliest band of assassins, floated to him from the doorway.
Oliver considered his reply. "Just hanging around, I guess."
Ra's nodded slightly. "Glad we haven't beaten your spirit out of you." Pausing, he looked Oliver up and down then continued. "Not yet anyway."
Oliver bit back the reply he wanted to make and instead asked, "What exactly do you want, Ra's?"
"This is what we are about to do. Tomorrow we start the initiation process. After the purification ceremony, you will spend three days in the sacred woods. If you survive, you are then considered worthy to continue on the process of becoming Ra's al Ghul."
"What if I say I don't want to be the next Ra's al Ghul?"
"Oliver, Oliver. It is rather interesting how you continue to not understand why resistance is futile."
Ra's then turned abruptly and left, followed by his guards. Oliver wanted to call him back and demand answers, but he knew it would be a wasted effort. His only action was to rest and try to gather all of his inner resources together to face the battle ahead.
~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~
It had been a difficult week for Felicity. She didn't know how she had gotten through it. She was rather surprised, truth be told, that she had. When she had received the call from Laurel saying Oliver had been killed at the jail, Felicity couldn't believe it. Not Oliver. Not the man who had survived death so many times she actually lost count, to only come back and die in a jail fight, like some common criminal. Not supposed to happen. So not fair.
Then Thea received the telephone call from the funeral home, with lots of condolences and apologies saying how sorry they were for the mix-up but somehow Oliver had been mistakenly cremated. And his ashes lost.
How could something like this happen?
Felicity had heard of things like that happening. But usually only on flaky TV shows. Or they happened to other people, other places. Not to a millionaire's son. Not to her friend, her colleague, her teammate, her…the man she loved. The man she never had the opportunity to tell how much she loved him.
How ironic that Oliver will indeed end up with an empty grave after all of this. Like he would've been if he had never returned from that cursed island. Never became the Arrow. Never met an IT girl and changed her entire life. Blinking back tears, Felicity desperately tried to tell herself there was a part of her who wished Oliver had never returned. Then she wouldn't be hurting this bad. She furiously wiped the tears away, but more stubbornly took their place. Giving into the despair, she threw herself onto her bed once more in an attempt to drown the sorrow with her tears.
~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~
The next morning, after spending a night of trying to rest while standing chained up, guards entered the cell and unchained Oliver from the wall. He attempted to see how the manacles were locked, but they were removed too quickly for him to see how the mechanism worked. Oliver thought it very telling when he wasn't again restrained in some manner but instead was simply led out of the cell. Of course, why wouldn't they be confident any escape attempt he made wouldn't succeed, thus negating the need for any type of handcuffs? He was only surrounded by hundreds of deadly assassins. Even the Arrow couldn't defeat them all and survive.
Oliver was led out into the outside courtyard. A van stood there, being packed up with various equipment in burlap sacks and boxes. Before he could question this, Ra's walked over to him.
"I hope you were able to get some rest, Oliver."
"Are we taking this to our destination?" Oliver asked, nodding towards the van. He refused to rise to Ra's' bait and made a point of avoiding Ra's' question. Wishing he could've made a grand gesture and walked boldly into the van without asking, Oliver decided not to take a chance of being incorrect.
"Yes, you may get in the back seat, if you please."
Oliver walked past Ra's as straight and tall as he could and got into the van. He couldn't resist looking at Ra's and wasn't surprised by the small smile on Ra's lips. A smile which failed to reach his eyes.
~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~
The next thing Oliver knew, he was again regaining consciousness chained to the wall of the supposedly same cell he had been in…yesterday? He wracked his brain for any indication as to what day it was, what had happened…yesterday? He sighed in disgust. Nothing, he couldn't remember….anything. Oliver shook his head, but the cobwebs refused to clear. His vision was even a little blurry. Was he taken outside yesterday? A memory of sitting by a fire, cross-legged, with Ra's across from him handing him a cup of…tea? What happened after that? Oliver doubted he was wrong about what was in the tea. More than just sugar or honey.
Oliver wanted to get angry about this…but he suddenly lacked the willpower to do so. He knew he was fighting a losing battle against losing his very self. Parts of himself were already missing, he could still tell. Not knowing exactly what Ra's was doing to him prevented him from fighting against it. His last conscious thoughts were of Thea and his Felicity. He knew he had to hang onto them. The last tie to his humanity. I'm sorry, Felicity, this may indeed be something I can't get over. I'm sorry, Thea, I tried to return to you.
The man watching behind the one-way mirror smiled. He turned to the younger man beside him. "Sarab, the time is close. Al-Saher has held onto his old life longer than I had expected, but we have finally reached the end stretch."
Sarab looked at Oliver sadly through the glass. Unfortunately Maseo was still somewhere within him, and regretted having to do this to his friend. However, Sarab recognized the futility of resistance. Destiny had spoken, and made Oliver Queen the Heir to the Demon, the Wareeth al Ghul. Being Ra's would only bring his former friend riches, prestige, honor, in ways he hadn't ever dreamed, and he, Sarab, was honored to be part of the process.
"Yes, Master, it is indeed a glorious thing to see the process almost complete."
~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~OQ~~
Several more days passed, but the man who was becoming Wareeth al Ghul wasn't aware of it. Instead, memories were being exchanged for League traditions, beliefs, and goals. Time disappeared into itself, and the man lost himself in the knowledge he was now part of a larger group, of which he would someday be its ruler.
On the day of the true birth of Wareeth al Ghul, the man in question woke up in a bed, unrestrained, unaware of the significance of these facts. He no longer cared he couldn't remember his childhood, his life before the League. He wasn't even aware they weren't there anymore, just that he was filled with the purpose of fulfilling the League's goals, as determined by his ruler, Ra's al Ghul. Of living every day according to the Will of his Ruler.
Ra's was especially pleased with the results from the last two nights. He had reviewed footage showing Oliver sleeping, and was relieved to no longer observe the man tossing and turning with nightmares. It was one of the final holds his old life had held, the nightmares of those terrible years shaping Oliver Queen into the man who had caught Ra's attention in the first place. Ra's could appreciate the irony of how, in order to fulfill his purpose, Ra's had to wipe out those very memories which had shaped the man in the first place. However, as he had told the young man, the end did indeed justify the means.
Unable to hide his satisfied grin, Ra's turned to the faithful servant at his side, Sarab, and said, "Sarab, prepare the jet. Wareeth al Ghul is now ready for his first mission. In Starling City."
AN: I probably rushed this out too soon. However, the muse ran with the plot bunny and came up with this. And then I wanted to publish it before tonight's episode, which would show this to be amazingly accurate, or totally inadequate. I didn't make that deadline. How great was that episode anyway! And how close to the mark this chapter is. Hmm….as well as some of my stories now. And then again, how so far off as well. All good.
Thank you again so much for reading! Here's hoping we all survive these final episodes of the season. The jury is still out on that one, I think. Hope you leave me a review and reward that pesky Muse. She is demanding, that's for sure.
