As she leaves an inspection of the League's newer recruits, Damian appears at her right, hands crossed in front of him, head bowed. He falls into step behind her as they walk down the hall. He has been incredibly deferential the last few days in her presence, especially when not distracted by the whirlwind of energetic change that is Azra and Soraya's new place in their family.

"Damian," Nyssa greets her young charge.

"Khala," he answers, eyes on the floor.

"Is there something you would like to discuss?"

"My desires are your desires, Khala," he repeats something he's heard her say to her father on several occasions.

"Aha." She stops and turns to face him. "Then I would like to discuss your insubordination."

If possible, Damian's head sinks lower.

"Yes, Khala."

"Look at me."

He complies. It isn't fear in his eyes. He does not fear her as she feared her father, and she is grateful for that. There is some shame, but mostly it is awe and respect and, until recently, complete obedience, at least in the realm of the League. Obedience is something he must perform flawlessly if he is to survive. It is not something she relishes, forcing this vibrant, funny, oh-so-clever boy to unflinchingly obey her will, but it is necessary. He cannot usurp the chain of command, cannot question what comes from above, or he will put his very precious life in danger. She hopes she can continue to receive complete obedience without using fear, or breaking his will.

"You comported yourself well in the field," she starts, and there is a light of surprise and pride that briefly dances across his face. "You obeyed orders, you avoided unnecessary danger, and you made yourself useful, not a burden. You performed quite admirably under pressure and kept a calm and level head despite your fear."

He does not deny fear, because he has been taught that fear of what could hurt you is a useful emotion, a sense to be recognized and respected, so long as it does not overcome you. Acknowledge fear. Do not give into it.

"But you may never again disregard my decision on a matter by appealing to Ra's al Ghul. It is my permission you must seek. It is my word that is law. We both serve Ra's al Ghul, but I am your direct superior. Ra's al Ghul may countermand my order, but never by your intervention. Do you understand?"

He pauses, processing so that his answer may be the truth.

"Yes, Khala. I beg forgiveness, Khala," he says formally.

"It is given," she responds in kind. "I did not order that you remain in Nanda Parbat to punish or deny you, Damian. It was a dangerous, chaotic situation, an unstable one. You saw that we almost lost Taer al-Asfer."

Damian nods, an echo of the scare they both suffered in the village in his visage. He drops his gaze. She puts a hand to his cheek and draw his eyes back up to hers.

"We could not lose you."

If she were reprimanding him about something else, like failing to clear the table after dinner or not wiping his feet after playing on the beach, this is where, at the conclusion of the lesson, she would embrace or kiss him, reminding him that despite his missteps, he is well loved. This is not one of those lessons. This gentle touch to his face will have to do.

"But you must take more responsibility, and your grandfather knew well that you were ready. He is, as ever, the wisest of us. You must still, however, follow my orders without question."

"I understand, Khala," he promises, his face brighter as he nods. She removes her hand.

"Very well. I believe we are late to dinner with Taer al-Asfer and your sisters."

"That's never good."


Sara waits nervously for the line to connect, double checking the time in Starling City. Laurel is going to be so mad. Laurel, who always complains about Sara's major life surprises via phone call or text message, years/months/weeks(/days in this case) after the fact. Laurel, who was talking to her sister about when the appropriate time was to even start to try to get pregnant with Stella. Laurel who basically live texted her pregnancy, much to Sara's alternating interest and disgust.

Yeah, she's gonna be pissed (and happy and excited, of course).

Laurel's smiling face pops into view.

"Sara! I was just about to call you!"

"Hey you."

"I have a surprise for you for once!" Laurel says brightly.

So. Pissed.

"Okay, sis, shoot."

Laurel has a shit-eating grin in place, and Sara is too busy feeling terribly guilty to be in any way prepared for what comes out of her sister's mouth next.

"I'm pregnant."

Sara's jaw drops.

"It's twins."

So! Pissed!

"Sorry I kept it from you for a minute there, but I wanted to actually - Why are you making that face? This is not the face I was expecting."

"I… also have a surprise."

"Sara!"

"But congratulations! I'm so happy for you! Twins?! Is Mom freaking out? I'm totally surprised!"

"Spill your secret surprise, Sara," Laurel sighs, and she's got that exasperated, loving big sister face on.

"No, I'm really excited for - "

"Sara!"

"So, um. Nyssa and I adopted two little girls?"

"Oh my god!"

"So the good news is that we'll each have three, and the little ones will all be the same age, about, and-"

"Oh, my, god, Sara! You're the worst," Laurel is grinning.

"Hey! I'm impulsive; that's why you didn't know. You purposefully kept this from me!"

Laurel is laughing.

"Okay then, Miss Impulsive, catch me up. Where are my little nieces? Who are they?"

"I'll grab them in a little bit, or at least the little one. Soraya. She's about four months old, and Azra just turned three. They're sisters from a nearby village who lost their family in a landslide. We rescued them, actually, and I…"

"Have a too big heart you hide behind sarcasm and an uncontrollable need to take in strays?" Laurel smiles warmly.

"It's a family trait," Sara quips. "Anyway, Soraya, she's just a baby, so her sleep schedule's a mess, and she's still adjusting to formula, but otherwise she's settling in fine. Azra's having a harder time, crying for her mom and dad, trying to cope with what happened. But we'll figure it out."

"Of course you will," Laurel reassures her.

"They were the only survivors. Twenty-seven people died. A whole family and a half, wiped out…" Sara trails off, then shakes away the pain. "Anyway- Twins!"

"Twins!" Laurel laughs. "I swear, Cisco almost passed out in the doctors' office. Me too!"

"Is Stella excited to be a big sister?"

"She has like zero concept of what's going on. What about Damian? How's he handling everything?"

"He's pretty bonded to Azra already - it's very sweet. But I don't think it's really sunk in yet."

"And the true queen of that castle?"

"Oh, Rocket is so mad."

Laurel laughs.

"So basically we just tripled the amount of Lance kids in the world," Laurel says. "Dad is gonna have a heart attack. He's still recovering from twins."

"Maybe I'll call his doctor before I deliver the news," Sara teases.

"Not a bad idea," Laurel chuckles.

"Congrats again, Laurel. Were you trying for Number Two?"

"Two? Yes. Two and Three? No."

Sara grins. "Sorry I couldn't let you have your big surprise moment."

"Hey, I got two nieces out of the deal. Now go get them! I'll take a pee break cause these guys have started early on the bladder kicking."


Damian knocks twice and then pushes into their quarters, dressed for bed. It's been a long week. Damian just finally moved back into his own room two nights previously. They're trying to transition Azra into her own bed too, so she has at least started the last three nights on a small cot in the corner, just as Damian did until he was five when they were here in Nanda Parbat. She's fast asleep there now, Soraya snoring in the bassinet at the foot of the big bed, Rocket relishing the fact that she is once again the only small thing sharing the (her) giant four-poster with Nyssa and Sara.

"Hey D," Sara beckons him over and scoots closer to Nyssa to make room for him on her side. Nyssa puts her book down to give him her attention. Damian clambers into the bed and sits up against the pillows, pulling his knees to his chest.

"It is late, little one. Have you just finished your evening with your grandfather?"

"Yeah. We were discussing the Qing dynasty and I had a lot of questions."

"Oh really now," Sara chuckles. "Like what?"

"How such powerful horse warriors could become such spoiled emperors."

That goes over Sara's head, 'cause unless it was strategy, battles, or combat, Sara struggled to pay attention in her League lessons. Nyssa nods thoughtfully, though.

"A rousing conversation, I'm sure," she praises.

"The girls are asleep," Damian notes, chin on his knobby knees. "At the same time."

Sara laughs as Nyssa grins: "A miracle, for sure."

"What are they gonna call you?" he suddenly asks.

"What do you mean?" Nyssa asks as Sara instinctively puts an arm around his bony shoulders, pulling him tight.

"Well, I call you Khala and Habibti, cause, well, you're my khala and my… habibti."

"And 'cause your Khala is terrible at teaching babies names."

"Or because you, habibti, never picked a different name you wanted," Nyssa counters.

"Okay, okay," Damian cuts through their bicker-flirting with a roll of his eyes. "But aren't you their moms now? Like their mom-moms. I mean, I know they had other parents first but they died so… Like they're your real kids?"

"Ah."

"Oh, D."

"I mean, you're my moms, too!" he says quickly, thinking he's offended them. "But Mother is my mom-mom, and I don't know! They gotta call you something!"

Sara's heart melts at his cute confusion and sweet claiming of them. She scruffs his hair, and he groans.

"I know our family structure is very confusing, but we love you very much, and we always will.

"You'll always be our first baby," Sara chimes in. "Well, after Rocket."

"I know," Damian says, exasperated, flinging himself back, breaking Sara's hold on him. "But Khala and Habibti are my names for you."

Sara laughs, so loud she's scared she'll wake the girls. She'd spent this whole conversation, this whole week, really, worried that Damian would feel left out by this new situation, that he'd feel disconnected or replaced.

But no- he's just staking his claim.

"And they should call you moms, 'cause you're gonna be their moms, but there are two of you and that's confusing," he pushes on, very upset that they don't have an answer to the simple question he asked them.

Nyssa looks bewildered, and Sara's side aches from holding in her laughter.

"Well, I called Gramma 'Mommy,' so that would be okay with me, I guess," Sara volunteers, leaning over to smack a kiss on his cheek.

"I called my mother Mama. I'd have no objection to the girls doing the same."

"Okay, thank you," Damian says, rubbing at his cheek. "Jeez."

Jeez - a Sara-ism.

"Wow, Khala. Eight-year-olds have a lot of attitude."

"Sounds to me as if he has some excess energy that will need to be drained off in training tomorrow."

Damian groans again.

"D, what Khala said is true, though," Sara says seriously. "We're always going to be a family. All five of us."

Rocket pops her bat-eared head out from under the covers.

"Well, six," she corrects.

"And being an older sibling is a significant responsibility," Nyssa adds.

"Yeah, that's what Aunt Laurel said."

"And Aunt Laurel would know," Sara laughs.

"Because Aunt Laurel has the most troublesome younger siblings there are."

"Rude."

Damian smiles and unfolds, leaning over to kiss each of them in turn.

"Okay. Goodnight, Mommy. Goodnight, Mama."

"Huh," Sara says when he's out the door, as she curls under Nyssa's arm and waits for the sound of Rocket's snoring to join Soraya's. "That's gonna take some getting used to."


tbc in the epilogue