A/N: Hey guys, so I'm finally back with a new chapter! Thank you all for being patient. I appreciate your lovely reviews and suggestions for Tommy's League name. There were so many wonderful options to choose from, but I could only pick one. It'll be revealed in the chapter, and a big thank you goes to MiLa63 for coming up with it! In addition to the serious suggestions, some of you decided to add a bit of humor. They were so funny and in character with Tommy that I just had to write a scene to include them. Great work, guys!
Also, a gigantic thank you to Almondblossomme for all of the translations. She had more than usual to do for this chapter, because the translated version of Tommy's name was a huge factor to consider. Seriously, she deserves endless kudos!
Hope you guys enjoy this next chapter. Happy reading, and please let me know what you think!
Chapter 10: The Temptation
Sitting at her vanity, Felicity carefully applied the last touch of makeup to her face. The fact that she needed to use less was a good sign. It had been two weeks since her abduction, and the bruises on her face had finally faded to a pale yellow. The others on her body were healing and hurting less, too. But they were nothing compared to the wounds she still felt deep inside. The days that followed Talia's assassination attempt were some of the hardest of Felicity's life. She hesitated to leave the bedroom. She jumped at the faintest sound or if someone unexpectedly came up behind her. The library, which had once been a place that brought her peace and comfort, had become a labyrinth of shadowed, unsafe corridors that she avoided.
Nights were the most challenging. Felicity often had flashbacks. If it wasn't Al Torr's violent hands she felt on her, then it was the knife being held to her throat. Other times it was Ra's or Talia sentencing her to be tortured and strung up before the League. Felicity would wake up in a cold sweat, breathing heavily with her heart racing. A couple of times she'd awoken in tears, crying uncontrollably. Al Sah-him was always right there to soothe her. She'd clung to him as he wrapped her up in his warm embrace. He'd whispered words of comfort in her ear while she buried her face in his chest. It was the only time Felicity felt truly safe, and so she'd stopped denying herself his touch. Almost every morning now she would wake up in his arms. Felicity knew she was probably being too clingy at times, but Al Sah-him didn't seem to mind. If anything, he was reluctant to let her go and she, extraordinarily, found herself having the same struggle.
Their night on the roof weeks ago, when Al Sah-him had finally opened up to Felicity about his past with his family and what he'd seen in her that first night they'd met, had caused something significant to shift between them. Felicity meant what she'd said to him on the roof; she'd completely misjudged him, which wasn't all that unbelievable considering the circumstances of their union. The abduction and the retribution that followed had been a painful but eye-opening experience. While it reinforced that Felicity would always be in some form of danger in the League, it also showed her that Al Sah-him—or Oliver as she sometimes thought of him—was serious about the vow he made to her.
Felicity was still in awe of him, if she was being completely honest with herself. There had been only one man in her life who'd ever truly protected her, but even he'd had limitations. As her bodyguard growing up, John Diggle was only supposed to defend Felicity against external threats (enemies of her father or H.I.V.E). There was nothing he could do to shield her from her father's overbearing expectations or delusions of grandeur when it involved her future. Felicity never blamed Dig, especially when she realized the truth about him. He'd done what he could within the constraints of his position, especially over this past year when she'd escaped to Starling.
Oliver had no such restrictions as Al Sah-him and whatever circumstances might've threatened her standing in the League, he'd swiftly obliterated them with his strength and cunning. He'd protected her in every possible way, including emotionally. The comfort and kindness he'd so freely been giving her as she tried to heal, along with what he'd shared about his own origins, reaffirmed her desire to know him more intimately.
In addition to allowing him to sleep in the bed with her, they'd been spending a lot more time together. Felicity had started learning some of Al Sah-him's personal quirks and preferences. One was his penchant for spicy foods when he was stressed. They'd been taking their meals together either in their bedroom or a smaller, private dining area. After a particularly long and grueling day last week, he'd asked for a bottle of hot sauce that he then proceeded to dump all over his tahchin—a rice cake layered with vegetables and meat. Felicity had tried a bite and regretted it within seconds, claiming that the spicy condiment should be added to the League's list of torture techniques. Al Sah-him, despite his dour mood, had gotten a laugh out of that.
Felicity also discovered why he felt the need to get up at such an ungodly hour every morning. It turned out that he liked to practice his archery early, because it was the only time the range was ever truly empty. Al Sah-him was so good—hence his "Arrow" title—that others frequently stopped to watch. While he didn't mind showing off his primary skill, he seemed to value any time he got alone. Being Warith al Ghul meant the rest of his day was filled either with meetings with Ra's and his advisors to talk strategy or overseeing the training of his own personal unit of warriors to command. Al Sah-him let her accompany him a couple of times to the range, though. They didn't resume their lessons, because she was still too sore. But Felicity did enjoy watching as he took down his targets with swift and deadly precision. He made it look so effortless that his fluid movements were like living poetry.
Al Sah-him was also surprisingly good with kids. Sahar had personally delivered their dinner one night with Amina by her side. The little girl had heard that Felicity was hurt and was worried. She wanted to make Felicity something to feel better, so Amina had drawn a scribbly picture of a sunflower. Amina had gone on to explain that Felicity keeping a picture of her name by her bed would make her happier and, thus, heal faster. Al Sah-him had complimented the drawing and helped Amina to hang it on the wall by their bed. Watching a large and intimidating man like him gently pick up a child only a fraction of his size to help her find the perfect spot—while listening to Amina's advice for how to care for Felicity since she frequently played doctor with her own dolls—was adorable. Sahar was smiling at the pair as Felicity tried to keep her insides from melting to a pile of goo on the floor. It was heartwarming but also surprisingly sexy.
In fact, almost everything about Al Sah-him was sexy. It was much easier to deny her attraction to him before when they still had some barriers between. Felicity could admire that large, strong, bulging body of his from afar and then go off to do her own thing. But now that they were constantly around each other, and she was spending her nights in his arms, it was almost impossible not to feel that instinctive pull between them strengthening.
Of course it was at that moment, when her mind had gone off on another tangent of heated thoughts, that the bathroom door opened. Felicity saw Al Sah-him emerge from the steam, and her own cheeks flamed. His muscular torso was covered in water droplets and nothing but a towel hung low on his waist. There wasn't a speck of fat on him; he was all hard muscle and defined edges. Despite her mind shouting for her to look away, her gaze remained locked on him.
Had the steam from the bathroom made their bedroom hotter or was it him? Felicity took note of the veins protruding from Al Sah-him's turgid biceps. Her eyes then drifted downward to his washboard abs and the deep V-like indentations of his pelvis just peeking over the top of his towel. Felicity tried to swallow the lump in her throat, but her mouth was dry. Her eyes raked over Al Sah-him a third time top to bottom, and she decided it was most definitely him. Holy hell.
Al Sah-him noticed her almost immediately and halted. "Oh, I thought you were still sleeping."
"Um, no…" Her voice came out high and scratchy, and she attempted to clear her throat. "No, I'm awake—obviously. My eyes are open, and you're not lying in bed. I mean I'm not lying in bed"—she blinked rapidly as the words poured out of her—"I wasn't trying to imply that I couldn't sleep because you weren't next to me. Because I can totally sleep on my own, but I have some things to do today. So I had to get up. Which is why, um, I'm now up…yeah…"
Al Sah-him's lips were pressed together. He was holding back a smirk, which made Felicity want to hide under her vanity in embarrassment. "I forgot to grab my clothes before my shower," he explained.
"Clearly," she said with a nervous laugh.
"I'll be dressed in a minute."
"Sure. No rush." This time he did smirk, and she wanted to die all over again. Before she could humiliate herself a third time, Felicity turned her attention back to her makeup and bit her lip.
While Al Sah-him shuffled through his drawers across the room, the blonde found her eyes wandering back to the reflection in the mirror. Al Sah-him was turned away from her and bending down to put on his pants. Almost to the top, the slacks pushed at the fabric of his towel and lifted it up. Felicity's breath whooshed out of her when she saw a glimpse of his bare ass. It was just as lean and muscular as the rest of him. A tremor of heat rippled throughout her entire body, making her breasts heave and her thighs clench.
Knowing she would absolutely keel over and die of mortification if he caught her ogling his butt, Felicity jerked her gaze back to her own reflection. The scar on her neck demanded her full attention. It was probably the worst one she had and covering it thoroughly was a challenge. Felicity grabbed a salve to rub into her skin and sighed. It was supposed to help dissolve the scarring, but Felicity wasn't seeing much progress.
She'd mostly managed to distract herself until she felt the back of her neck prickle. Al Sah-him, now fully dressed, had come up behind her. "Is the skin still raw?"
"It doesn't hurt. It just looks horrible," she muttered, dejected.
"It'll fade eventually."
"But it'll never be completely gone," Felicity lamented.
"Scars hold a different meaning around here. No one will think less of you. It doesn't detract from your beauty."
The compliment gave her pause, and Felicity glanced up at him. "I didn't mean to imply that there's anything wrong with it." Al Sah-him's body was riddled with scars, and she didn't want him to think she was saying that his were ugly. They were simply a part of him. "It's just that this one is right there. Whenever I look in the mirror or someone is speaking to me, there's no way not to see it." She shook her head and let out a low exhale. "I'm being ridiculous, aren't I? I'm lucky to be alive. That's what's important."
"It's a normal reaction," Al Sah-him said with a shrug, though his expression was thoughtful. He placed his hand on her shoulder and gently rubbed it.
Felicity wanted so badly to close her eyes and sink back into him. Snuggling up to him at night was one thing, but she needed to maintain some composure in the light of day. She settled for putting her hand over his and giving him a timid smile.
Pleased by the contact, Al Sah-him questioned, "What exactly do you have to do today?"
"I'm meeting with the seamstress. We have to go over the design for my dress for Eid Al Ta'sees." The day marking the founding of the League would be celebrated with a grand ball in another month and a half. It would be the first truly formal event she'd be attending as Al Sah-him's wife, and her father would also be in attendance as a former League member who was now an ally. Needless to say, Felicity had to elegantly yet boldly hold her own by her husband's side.
"Whatever you choose, I'm sure you'll look lovely," he reassured and stroked the ends of her curls.
Felicity's eyes closed for a second of their own accord. Finding her voice again, she focused and replied, "Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you. What's your favorite color?"
"What?" His hand paused.
"What's your favorite color?" Felicity repeated and moved to stand.
"Green," he answered, confused but intrigued.
With a firm nod, Felicity declared, "Then green will be the color of my dress."
His eyes widened in surprise. "You don't have to do that."
"I know but I want to," she told him, holding his gaze and reaching out to put a hand on his chest. "What about you?"
"What about me?" Al Sah-him mumbled, seeming distracted.
"Are you going to the range this morning?"
"Um," he cleared his throat, "no. I've got another training session with Tommy—if you can even call it that. It's more like prep for training." Since it was Al Sah-him who'd decided to induct Tommy into the League, he'd taken full responsibility for Tommy's care and assimilation. However, with Tommy still healing from his stab wound, it was a slow process thus far.
"How is that going?"
"Fine when he isn't chatting my ear off," Al Sah-him grumbled. "He's always pitching me with a new League name."
"He wants to be able to pick it. Nothing wrong with that, since he's basically being forced to become an assassin," Felicity pointed out.
"If I hadn't inducted him, he'd be dead," Al Sah-him reminded her.
"I know, but it's still hard for him to be letting go of everything he knew. Trust me. He needs to feel like he's got some control." Felicity was all too familiar with that struggle.
"I get that, but most of his suggestions are ridiculous."
"Well, what is he pitching?"
"Al Saif al Taweel," Al Sah-him stated. "It means The Long Sword."
"That doesn't sound so bad."
"He's not referencing an actual weapon."
"I don't get it. If it's not a sword he's talking about then what is—oh!" she exclaimed when it clicked. Seconds later, Felicity threw her head back and laughed. "Oh my God, you mean he's talking about his…" She couldn't finish the thought and just laughed some more. Picking a name to describe his manhood was such a Tommy thing to do.
"You see now what I'm dealing with."
Felicity shrugged as she tried to tame her giggles. "To be fair, The Arrow could also be considered phallic."
"I chose Al Sah-him, because I'm an archer," he defended.
"Sure you did," she teased. Al Sah-him had the tendency to get growly when he was frustrated, and Felicity couldn't help but find it amusing. She continued to press him. "Arrows also happen to be long and pointy. Although not all arrows at the range were long. There were some shorter ones with—"
Al Sah-him suddenly took a step forward and invaded her personal space. His voice was low and husky. "If you're going to insist that I chose my name based on that, then stick with the first description. It's more accurate."
Felicity abruptly stopped laughing as her breath caught in her throat. Goose bumps prickled on her skin, because she knew he wasn't exaggerating. Having woken up cradled in his arms with their bodies pressed together, Felicity was fully aware of that part of his anatomy some mornings. They never actually talked about it, because usually Al Sah-him was up and out of bed first. He probably thought she was asleep and hadn't noticed, but there was no missing that particular sensation when it was just so…imposing. The sound of the shower running always followed and, damn it, her face must be as red as a cherry by now.
"I also hit the bullseye every time." While the little tilt of Al Sah-him's mouth was mischievous, his bold blue eyes were smolderingly serious.
Her hand intuitively fisted in his shirt. "I should probably get dressed now," Felicity croaked. It seemed like forever since Al Sah-him had said something so provocative to her, and she'd forgotten how simultaneously disarming and exhilarating it could be. "Sara will be here soon." Her friend and perpetual bodyguard would be sitting in on her session with the seamstress, since Felicity still didn't like to be in a room alone with anyone outside of their inner circle.
Al Sah-him covered her hand and gave it a squeeze. "I'll leave you to it then."
The loss of his touch was instant and a hollowness took root in the pit of her abdomen. Felicity moved in a daze to her dresser but turned around when he called her name once more.
"Yeah?" she replied in the most casual voice she could muster.
Al Sah-him took a moment to observe her. Whatever he was looking for, he must've found because he was the most at ease she'd seen in weeks. "It's good to hear you laughing again, shamsi. I've missed that smile."
His comment brought on another grin—this one just as genuine as the last—that stayed with her long after he'd gone.
The only time Felicity had ever visited the north wing of the compound, where the barracks and training facilities were located, was on the tour Al Sah-him had given her the morning after their wedding. It was the busiest area of the compound, which meant it was a place that Felicity mostly avoided. Even now surrounded by guards and with Sara by her side, Felicity felt uneasy to be passing through. She didn't dare show it, however, and kept her head held high.
While the entire League knew that Al Sah-him would cut down anyone who so much as looked at her the wrong way, he'd also made sure that they knew she was strong in her own right. According to Sara, Al Sah-him had announced to the League that it was Felicity who'd defeated Al Torr. He'd kept the dagger she'd used on Al Torr lodged in his neck as proof when he'd hung the bastard before the League. Even though Felicity accepted that she'd had no other choice but to defend herself, it still bothered her that taking another human life was considered a bragging right in the League.
Nevertheless, it gave her a credible edge. Felicity no longer received contemptuous or hostile stares. Curiosity did remain, but most of the looks she got now were serious, respectful, and sometimes fearful. Crowds immediately parted for her as members sunk to their knees. Felicity barely spared them a glance and continued on her way.
The training room they sought was the farthest away. Sara informed Felicity that it was for Al Sah-him's private use. No one was allowed to enter without permission. It was there that he'd begun to work with Tommy. Felicity had been curious to see what exactly they were up to these past few days. The only time she'd been able to speak with Tommy was a couple days after the attack. Felicity had wanted to check on him and thank him for helping her. Tommy remained in a private room segregated from the rest of the League as a safety precaution. Al Sah-him had accompanied her for propriety's sake. While it sucked that Felicity couldn't talk to her friend as freely as she had before, it was necessary to ensure that no further accusations of adultery were brought against her. An advantage of Al Sah-him's private training room was that there'd be no prying eyes, which meant they didn't have to be so on guard.
Sara motioned for the guards to wait outside while Felicity knocked on the door. She heard a female voice shout "come in" and entered. The blonde only made it a couple of feet beyond the threshold when she completely stopped in her tracks. In the far corner of the room, Al Sah-him was dangling from a metal bar on a tall set of rungs. His shirt was off, and the hard lines of his muscles glistened with sweat as he swayed in mid-air. Al Sah-him let out a loud grunt and propelled his body forward and up, lifting the metal bar so it latched onto the next level. His abs scrunched and then flexed as he dangled again.
"Holy frack," Felicity muttered and gawked as he kept going higher. Al Sah-him was like a machine—a big, hot, grunting, sweaty machine.
Felicity licked her lips and swallowed the lump in her throat. She thought for sure nothing could beat the image of Al Sah-him in a towel, but she'd clearly been wrong. The power and precision he commanded of his body on whatever the hell that thing was called was unlike anything she'd ever seen before. Her fingers twitched in the folds of her dress with the urge to walk forward and touch him. Despite the fact that she slept in his arms almost every night, Felicity had never actually let her fingers explore his stunning physique. Unbidden, an image of herself stroking a panting, sweaty Al Sah-him as his body glided on top of hers popped into Felicity's mind.
"It's called a salmon ladder. He's really good at it," came Sara's voice from beside her. "I can clear the room if you want a one-on-one session with your husband."
Felicity jumped a mile, finally remembering where she was and that she wasn't alone. Sara wriggled her eyebrows suggestively and grinned. Her friend/protector knew exactly what she'd been thinking and was clearly amused by it. Felicity swore she felt the blush all the way down to her toes. She attempted to clear her throat and said, "That won't be necessary."
"You sure?"
"Yes. He's fine—it's fine," Felicity swiftly corrected. "I meant it's fine, as in the situation and not a particular person."
Sara continued to grin knowingly at her, which made Felicity fidget uncomfortably. "If you say so."
"Hey, Felicity," Tommy called to her. He stood off to the side of the mats, wearing a training uniform and looking freshly shaved. His own bruises from when he'd been a prisoner had faded significantly, as well. He seemed more like himself, which she took as a good sign.
At the sound of her name, Felicity noticed Al Sah-him briefly pause on the bar. She looked away quickly before he could see how truly flustered she was.
"Did I say we were finished?" Nyssa snapped. She was in the middle of demonstrating a type of sword technique.
Tommy hunched over and put a hand on his ribs. "My stab wound hurts. I think I need a break."
Nyssa's eyes narrowed. "How can it hurt when you have done nothing but stand there and watch me for the last hour?"
"Well, I'm looking at you and picturing my own body doing that. So it's pain by association, really," he replied and attempted a charming smile. When Nyssa's expression remained unperturbed, Tommy quickly scrunched up his face and groaned pitifully.
Felicity bit her lip, trying not to laugh. Tommy was really laying it on thick.
Rolling her eyes, Nyssa muttered something under her breath that had Sara snickering. The tall, dark-haired woman lowered her sword but held her stern stance. "You have ten minutes before we resume. If you do not remember what I just taught you, then I will make you do it this time to ensure that you are paying attention—regardless of the pain."
When Nyssa joined Sara off to the side, Tommy joked, "She may be a hardass, but she totally wants me."
Felicity snorted and pointed to the two women, who'd shared a quick kiss. "I highly doubt that."
"Huh." He frowned and crossed his arms. "Didn't see that one coming. It's kinda hot actually."
The blonde smacked his arm, and Tommy made a show of flinching. "Jeez, must you all pick on the injured guy? I thought the torture was supposed to stop once I got out of the dungeon."
"Behave, Merlyn," she playfully warned.
"Okay, so I get that Nyssa's a lost cause but I'm not called Al Baher for nothing."
"What's that mean?"
Tommy was grinning proudly from ear to ear. "The Most Handsome."
"Oh my God, please don't tell me that's the League name you chose," Felicity laughed. It was probably better than The Long Sword, but she wasn't going to encourage it.
"You have to admit it's the most accurate. And if I'm going to be branded—which I am definitely not looking forward to because ow—why not have it be with the male symbol? It'll be very Austin Powers, international man of mystery. The ladies will love it."
There was a loud thud. Al Sah-him had jumped back down to the ground, but he didn't stay there for long. He began another set on the salmon ladder. With how much he was sweating, Felicity wondered how long he'd been at it. It looked strenuous and utterly exhausting. Once again, Felicity found it difficult to tear her eyes away completely.
Tommy followed her gaze and huffed. "Unless it's already taken."
"I think it is," Felicity muttered while subtly sneaking peeks at Al Sah-him.
He shook his head and grumbled, "Show off. Luckily, I have a backup..." Felicity wasn't sure what he'd said afterward, because the words came out garbled. Tommy's pronunciation sounded even worse than hers normally.
Sara interrupted then, chuckling, and repeated it in the correct way. "Hami Sharaf Al 'Athara." She translated for Felicity, "It means The Defender of Maiden's Virtue."
Another set of giggles erupted from Felicity. Al Sah-him hadn't been exaggerating when he said that Tommy's name choices were bordering on ridiculous. "I'm a little lost on that one, since only seconds ago you were talking about scoring with the ladies."
"Hey, I can be a gentleman. I helped save you, didn't I?"
"True," Felicity agreed, sobering. "For which I'm very grateful."
"See, it fits. And you're very welcome. I'm glad you're okay." Tommy studied her intently. "You are doing okay, right?" He nodded toward Al Sah-him. "He's treating you well?"
Touched by his concern, Felicity said, "Thank you, I'm getting there." Her eyes drifted back to Al Sah-him, and her heart skipped a beat. "Al Sah-him has been helping me a lot. He's been really wonderful, honestly."
The look Tommy was giving her was difficult to interpret, but he seemed satisfied with her answer. "Good." Her friend smirked seconds later, "I bet the eight-pack doesn't hurt either. Maybe I can get one. All I have is a measly six which, you know, everyone has. Something good has got to come out of being an assassin."
His tone was lighthearted, but Felicity was aware it was just a cover for the overwhelming anxiety he must be feeling. "Are you okay?" she questioned him.
Tommy sighed and rubbed at his ribs. "It is what it is. It's better than being tortured behind bars or dead. So there's that…"
"I'm around if you ever need to talk," Felicity offered. She would've put her hand on his shoulder, but they'd been keeping their distance from each other physically. Al Sah-him didn't seem as bothered anymore by their friendship, but Felicity thought it was best to maintain some boundaries. It was still a dangerous time for them both and getting used to the League's protocols of propriety was necessary.
"Hey, Al Muharej," Sara called to Tommy. "Why don't we give poor Nyssa a break and you work with me for a bit?"
"I wore you out, didn't I?" Tommy quipped and winked at Nyssa. She did not look amused. "What does Al Muharej mean? Because if it's The Sexiest Man Alive, I most definitely accept that title."
Sara folded her arms and grinned cheekily back at him. "It means The Joker."
"Um, no. Hard pass on that one," Tommy immediately dismissed. "Too Batman."
With a shake of her head, Sara picked up a sword and went to the mats. She whirled it around a few times to loosen up her wrist. "Just get your snarky ass over here, Merlyn."
"I'll let you focus on your lesson, but I had a name in mind, too," Felicity informed Tommy. She was a little nervous to share it but pressed on. "I was thinking maybe The Falling Star."
"Huh." He scratched his chin and mulled it over. "It's interesting, but do you think it might be kind of depressing?"
"Not at all. I put quite a lot of thought into it. You're from Starling City, where you shined like a star, and now you're here. It might seem like you're falling, but you're really not. You survived weeks of torture and have proven yourself by defending me," Felicity explained. "Sara helped me with the translation. It's Al Tareq, which really means The Shooting Star. Tareq comes from the translation Jabal Tareq, referencing the rock of Gibraltar that was named after the Algerian Moors that settled it. It's at the southern edge of Spain and guards the entrance to the Mediterranean. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that despite appearances, you're just as strong and important as that rock. Does that make sense?"
Tommy looked stunned. "Wow, you're really smart."
"I'm actually a genius. I told you how I skipped high school to go to MIT and then I—" she forced herself to stop before her ramble really got going. "I mean thank you. So what do you think?"
"I think that's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Al Tareq," Tommy reverently repeated, sounding it out. "It's got a great ring to it." With a resolute nod, he declared, "I think that's it."
"Then Al Tareq is officially your League name," Al Sah-him interjected. Felicity hadn't even heard him approach. He had a towel wrapped around his neck to wipe off some of the sweat. "As always, shamsi, you never cease to amaze us with your brilliance."
Felicity beamed at the compliment, keeping her eyes on his face and trying not to stare at his glistening physique. It was a futile effort. She couldn't resist a quick glance and bit her lip upon seeing his own eyes darken.
"Why do you call her 'shamsi'? Is it some kind of nickname I don't know about?" Tommy asked. "I thought your League name was Abad-eshams."
"It is," Felicity said, still staring at Al Sah-him.
"It means 'my sun,'" Al Sah-him translated. "I'm the only one who calls her that." His voice was deep, commanding, and slightly possessive.
Felicity's body thrummed with a frenzied kind of energy at his bold statement. The invisible tether between them tightened, though she dared not move an inch. Her teeth sunk further into her bottom lip to relieve the tension, and Felicity knew if she bit any harder it would bleed.
A throat clearing loudly broke the spell. Tommy was staring audaciously between the two of them. "Noted," the dark-haired man declared and backed away. "Thanks again for the name, Felicity. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to go show what's her name—"
"Ta-er al-Asfe," Al Sah-him interjected just as Felicity said, "Sara."
"Yeah, that wasn't confusing at all," Tommy muttered. "Anyway, I have to show blondie that I'm a rock."
"Unless you want a matching stab wound on the other side, I would refrain from calling me blondie," Sara called to him.
Tommy said to Felicity in a mock whisper, "Please tell me she's joking."
"She probably won't stab you, but whatever she does decide to do will most definitely hurt," Felicity informed him.
"She's right," Al Sah-him added. "You don't want to piss Sara off. I've seen her snap a guy's neck twice her size with her bare hands." He whacked Tommy on the back, causing the other guy to flinch. "So pay attention."
Tommy gulped and reluctantly went to join Sara back on the mats. Nyssa watched with her arms folded and the ghost of a smirk on her face.
"You didn't have to scare him that badly," Felicity quietly admonished to Al Sah-him.
"Sometimes a healthy dose of fear is necessary. He needs to take this seriously. Ra's wants him battle ready within a few months."
"I thought you would be training him."
"I will be. But Ra's is away, and I had League business to handle. Nyssa offered to fill in," Al Sah-him explained and went to grab his shirt. "Besides, he needs to be exposed to different kinds of fighters. It can't always just be me."
Finding out Ra's wasn't around was music to Felicity's ears. She'd been avoiding him as much as possible anyway. Seeing him in her nightmares was quite enough already.
"Well, I'm glad you and Nyssa are getting along again."
Al Sah-him hadn't said it directly to Felicity, but there had been some tension between him and Nyssa after her abduction. As mad as Al Sah-him had been with himself for leaving Felicity behind, he had also been disappointed that Nyssa wasn't around when Felicity had needed her the most. Felicity, of course, didn't see it that way, because Nyssa had always made sure she was guarded properly. Talia had blindsided them all, which Felicity made sure to communicate to Al Sah-him. Now that some time had passed and he'd cooled down, Al Sah-him and Nyssa seemed to be in a good place.
Since Nyssa hated Malcolm Merlyn, Felicity had figured that was why the other woman had never personally accompanied Felicity to the dungeons. Tommy was supposedly an extension of his father, and Felicity could understand that Nyssa didn't want to be around him. It was why Felicity found it so surprising to see Nyssa now working to train Tommy. Did Tommy saving Felicity change Nyssa's view of him, or was helping to turn Tommy into an assassin simply Nyssa's revenge against his father? Felicity hoped it was the first option and made a mental note to ask Nyssa about it the next time they had a moment alone.
Al Sah-him didn't say anything and just nodded as he put the rest of his gear on. "Are you free right now? I have something to show you."
"Is there another secret hiding spot I don't know about?" Felicity quipped. "Because while I love a good mystery, I don't think anything can top the roof." They visited that spot almost every other night. It was one of the only times Felicity got to be outside and get some fresh air, which made her enjoy it all the more.
That earned her a tiny smile. "Yes and no." Al Sah-him became serious and lowered his voice, forcing Felicity to lean in closer to hear him. "Where I'm taking you has to remain in the strictest of confidence. Ra's would not be pleased if he found out."
Felicity placed a hand on his chest. "I won't say anything, but I also don't want you to get into trouble on my account."
"Thank you for your concern"—his fingertips lightly traced the curves of her face—"but you need to see this, shamsi."
"Okay," she whispered, choosing to trust him. If Al Sah-him thought it was important, then she'd go. "Lead the way…"
It had taken ten minutes for Al Sah-him and Felicity to ditch their usual contingent of guards and get to their destination. They weren't going far, but Al Sah-him needed to take her on a roundabout route. He wanted to make sure that they weren't being watched or followed. Even with Ra's away and Talia confined to her chambers, they couldn't be too careful.
When they finally arrived at the sanctuary, Felicity frowned in confusion. "Is this it?" she inquired.
"Almost," he answered and tugged her forward.
Felicity tightened her hold on Al Sah-him's hand and followed. The sanctuary looked almost the same, except for a few new tapestries hanging. The last time they'd been there was during their wedding. At the time, Felicity had considered their union a fate worse than death. Her anger and distrust had been at an all-time high as she'd begrudgingly walked toward her husband-to-be and, subsequently, attempted to stab him. It wasn't her finest moment, but she'd been desperate. While life in the League still wasn't ideal, so much had changed over the last two months. Al Sah-him had, ironically, become the person Felicity trusted the most, and this time she walked willingly down the aisle clinging to his side.
"Where are we go—"
Al Sah-him gently shushed her and brought her to the farthest corner, past the altar, to the left. He reached for the lit torch above and yanked it down and twisted. Something shifted behind the hard stone, unlocking, and the wall in front of them cracked and swung inward to open.
"Whoa," she breathed in astonishment.
Al Sah-him reached for the torch and began to pull her inside with him when Felicity planted her feet. The room inside looked completely dark and narrow. The prospect of entering such a desolate area brought her up short.
"This isn't some kind of tomb, is it?" Felicity asked quietly. "Because zombies give me the creeps. They're right up there with kangaroos. Actually, kangaroos would be the first with zombies as a close second."
"It's not a tomb or anything having to do with the catacombs," Al Sah-him explained to her, understanding the true root of her fear. "We'll be above ground. I promise."
"O-okay," Felicity muttered and latched onto his arm.
Al Sah-him took the lead, and his broad frame just barely squeezed between the walls. Eventually, the walls opened up into a spacious foyer with another door set into the stone. Al Sah-him's back was turned to her as he felt along the wall. One of the stones came free to reveal a hidden key. "Do you see where I got this?"
Felicity nodded, a mixture of nerves and intrigue. Al Sah-him unlocked the door and held out his hand for her to take once more. The new room they entered was circular and no more than ten feet in width. Torches lined the walls.
"Is there a special guy in charge of lighting around here?" Felicity wondered aloud. She found it so odd that certain parts of the compound were left in darkness while others always seemed to have lit torches. This was probably the weirdest instance, since the corridor to get there was so grim.
He explained, "Aside from myself and Ra's, the only other person allowed in this room is the priestess."
"Why?" Al Sah-him motioned to the center of the room, where she noticed a dark, circular body of water. "Um…all of this secrecy for a hot tub?" Felicity remarked. "That's…cool, I guess. Running the League means you deserve some kind of perk."
Al Sah-him let out a low chuckle and shook his head. "It's not a hot tub. Have you ever heard of the Lazarus Pit?"
"Uh, I think so. It's like the Fountain of Youth. The legend is that it's supposed to have healing properties and prevent aging."
"It was discovered by al-Khidr and was sought after by many men throughout history. The original Ra's al Ghul took possession of it when he first founded the League of Assassins. The Lazarus Pit's regenerative waters are what has allowed each new ruler to live long enough to guide the League and shape history over the course of centuries."
Felicity's eyes widened as she stared back at the shadowed water. "Are you saying this is the Lazarus Pit? That it's real?"
"It is," Al Sah-him confirmed.
"I've heard my father talk about it, but I never actually believed him. I thought he was just trying to scare me, because the League was his enemy."
"He wasn't lying—at least about this. The Pit works. Ra's—this Ra's—has been using it for centuries."
"So if my father was in the League with this Ra's and was passed over, that must mean he's also…" Felicity couldn't even finish the thought. It was too unthinkable. "Holy frack, that's terrifying." She warily looked to Al Sah-him and asked, "Have you been using it, too? That story you told me of your parents and being lost at sea, was that forever ago and now you're—"
Al Sah-him cut her off mid-ramble, "I've only used the pit a couple of times, and it wasn't to stop the aging process. I was brought here when I was twelve. That was fifteen years ago."
"Oh…okay," Felicity mumbled, feeling slightly relieved. She took a moment to get her thoughts together. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to freak out on you. I'm just a little overwhelmed."
"It's okay. I understand," he reassured her. "I was freaked out the first time Ra's showed it to me, too, which is why I've waited to show you. There are quite a bit of rumors about the pit and its properties. One is that it contains the souls of its previous users. And if used too often, it can corrupt you."
His explanation gave her chills. "Is that true?"
"No. It was a warning created by a previous Ra's to frighten and discourage both allies and enemies from seeking it out. The only drawback is that the pit eventually loses its potency on an individual over time. It's why each Ra's must still choose a successor. Life is prolonged but death is inescapable."
"Has it started to lose its potency on this Ra's?"
Although the current Ra's came off as strong and virile, Felicity had noticed the strands of gray throughout his hair. She hadn't given it a second thought before but, in light of this new information, it made her wonder if Ra's was more vulnerable than he let on. Furthermore, Felicity was curious to know if her father had also sensed this weakness. Was this why after so many years of being mortal (or was it immortal?) enemies, they'd called a truce? Did her father sell her to the League because he had a more sinister ulterior motive that required her presence here?
Al Sah-him didn't answer, which was actually an answer in and of itself. "Come here," he instructed. Felicity hesitated for a second before walking forward. They were at the edge of the pit. "Sit down."
There was a wooden box next to him on the ground. He reached inside and took out a cloth and a small handheld mirror. He dipped the cloth in the water and rung it out. "Lift your chin."
"I'm really not in the mood for a bath," Felicity said nervously. A very big part of her was still freaking out internally about this revelation.
"Trust me," Al Sah-him implored.
She took an uneasy breath but bobbed her head in assent. Al Sah-him would never do anything to cause her harm. That she knew for certain, and so Felicity finally lifted her chin. Her eyes closed when she felt Al Sah-him brush her hair aside and press the wet cloth to her neck. Her skin became hot and started to prickle. It was neither completely soothing nor painful.
Afterward, he removed the cloth and handed Felicity the mirror. She gasped upon seeing her now unmarred skin. The scar that had been on her neck was completely gone. "Oh my God," she muttered, stunned. It was one thing for Al Sah-him to tell her about the pit but another thing to see the results. She pressed a shaky hand to her neck to feel it. The once raised skin was smooth and soft.
"I've noticed how much that scar bothers you," he told her. "Now you'll never have to look on it again."
Tears stung Felicity's eyes as a lump formed in her throat. She didn't know how to respond. This was all so surreal, and nothing she could say seemed meaningful enough.
"There was another reason I brought you here," Al Sah-him confessed. "We sent a strong message to the League and Talia about what will happen if you're ever made a target again. And while I'm doing everything in my power to fulfill my promise to you and keep you safe, the reality is that there will always be danger. You're my wife, and that comes with the territory. I'm sorry for that, because I know you didn't ask for any of this. But just in case you're ever seriously hurt again and for some ungodly reason I'm not there, I want you to get yourself here to the pit." He reached into the box again and pulled out a tiny, clear vial full of liquid. "This is water from the pit. Like the dagger, I want you to keep this on you at all times. It won't completely heal a serious injury, but it will buy you some time to either get yourself here or for me to get to you. Do you understand?"
Accepting the gift, Felicity tentatively held it in her hand and whispered, "Yes." That was the only word she was able to formulate. The utter shock and awe of what he was doing for her left Felicity speechless.
At her acceptance, Al Sah-him grinned in relief and returned to his task. He dipped the cloth in the water a second time and pressed it to the remaining bruises on her face. Felicity watched him as he tended to her. His handsome face was scrunched in concentration while his hands delicately framed her face. With every healing stroke, she felt like a piece of her was being put back into place—rebuilding her from the inside out. The overall picture they formed affected her deeply.
Droplets ran down Felicity's cheeks, but they weren't from the water on the cloth. They came from her own eyes as the emotions bubbling up inside of her spilled over. For once, Felicity didn't try to hide them and freely let them fall.
The rest of the day passed in a blur for Felicity. Al Sah-him had left her in their room before leaving to check on Tommy one last time and attend to additional League matters. He hadn't taken supper with her that night. Instead, Felicity ate with Sara and Nyssa. She caught up on some reading later in the evening, spent a little time out on the balcony, and then finally got ready for bed. Felicity had needed the reprieve more than she realized. She couldn't stop thinking about that moment between her and Al Sah-him in the sanctuary.
There were clearly two sides to the man she called her husband. Al Sah-him was undoubtedly Warith al Ghul—strong, possessive, commanding, and deadly. Then there was Oliver, who seemed like a normal guy still mourning the loss of his family and who genuinely feared losing anyone else. That man was kind, attentive, vulnerable, and fiercely protective. Felicity had witnessed the two sides converge tonight when he'd taken her to the Lazarus Pit. It was Al Sah-him who'd defied Ra's orders and gotten them there undetected, but Oliver who'd healed her scars and given her the water to protect herself in the future.
Even though Felicity was still trying to reconcile the two sides, what she did know for sure was that both ignited a fire in her. A fire that instead of being extinguished, demanded to be fueled. While it had taken longer for Felicity to acknowledge the attraction between them, it didn't mean that her feelings were any less intense. There was a moment by the pit, when they'd been sitting so close their breaths mingled, that Felicity almost expected him to kiss her. When he'd wiped away her tears, she'd not only expected the kiss but had wanted it.
Al Sah-him didn't kiss her, though. The desire and hunger were there reflecting back at her, but he'd simply returned his task. Afterward, Al Sah-him had given her some privacy to undress and tend to the injuries on her body that he couldn't see. Felicity had required his assistance undoing and then later rebuttoning her dress. Like the night she'd been attacked, his hands were gentle and steady. The only difference was that this time she could take pleasure in his touch. She'd trembled when his fingers grazed her bare skin and found herself craving more.
Felicity currently lied awake in bed, and she knew it had everything to do with the empty spot beside her. Hours later her thoughts ran rampant while her body still thrummed with a need that was unfulfilled. She also felt notably stronger and refreshed physically, which she figured was a direct effect of the pit. The fatigue and soreness that had plagued her these past couple of weeks was almost completely gone. Felicity touched her hand to her neck and marveled yet again at the smoothness of her skin. She was still trying to wrap her head around the pit's existence and what role it already had played (with her father) or would play (with Al Sah-him) in her life.
When the bedroom door finally opened, Felicity quickly sat up. "Hey," she greeted.
"Hey, I didn't mean to startle you, shamsi," Al Sah-him apologized.
Felicity shook her head. "I wasn't sleeping." I was waiting for you.
He appeared to study her before asking, "Are you feeling okay?"
"Yeah. I feel great. Better than great, honestly." She started playing with a loose thread on the bedspread. "I couldn't sleep. That's all." The strap of her nightgown fell off her shoulder, and Felicity watched as his eyes honed in on it. She left it as it was.
"I need a shower," he announced and quickly looked away.
That would be his second one of the day. While he had been running around all day and sweating from his earlier workout, Felicity couldn't help but wonder if his newly rigorous hygiene routine had something to do with her. In fact, she kind of hoped it did. Making herself blush with such a bold thought, Felicity sank back in bed and fiddled with her fingers.
She didn't know how much time had passed. It could've been ten minutes or an hour before Al Sah-him finally emerged. Unlike this morning, when he'd been deliciously half-naked and in a towel, he appeared already dressed in his black slacks. After blowing out the brighter candles in the room, he joined her in the bed. Al Sah-him barely had time to settle in before Felicity was moving toward him. She stopped just short of touching him and let her hands rest in the space between them.
"Can I ask you something?"
"Sure, go ahead."
"Why don't you use the pit to heal your own scars? Not that there's anything wrong with them," she was quick to clarify. "Your scars are fine. Well, they're not fine. That's the wrong word because they must've really hurt, which is why they're scars. But I was just wondering why not take advantage of the pit? You said you've done that before."
"I only used the pit a couple of times, because Ra's forced me. Once to show me how it worked and another time to heal a very serious injury while I was unconscious."
Her curiosity piqued. "But why? Is it because your scars make you look tougher in front of your men, or do you just not like the feeling of it?" The healing sensation of the water had certainly taken Felicity some getting used to at first, but the end result was a feeling of revitalization.
Al Sah-him considered the question before meeting her inquisitive stare. "I don't like to use it, because I don't want to rely on it."
"How so?"
He shifted so that he was also on his side, facing her. "When you start thinking you can cheat death, it takes something from you. You're not only weaker for it, but you become arrogant. You can be the best fighter but without that edge, that will to survive, you actually start to take life for granted. And if you're not fighting for something, then you're more likely to lose everything."
"You need to have the eye of the tiger, so to speak. Like Rocky," Felicity commented.
Al Sah-him looked utterly puzzled. "Who's Rocky?"
She smiled and shook her head. Apparently, Warith al Ghul wasn't exactly well-versed in pop culture. "It's a famous movie about a boxer. It's not that important. Please, go on."
Reaching out his hand, Al Sah-him let his fingers brush along the tops of her knuckles. "You know how I said it's believed that the pit will corrupt its users?"
Felicity, captivated by both his insight and his touch, nodded. "Yeah."
"Well, it does in a way. It's not the power of the water that does it but the power the water gives you. Life is precious. We're not meant to live forever. But when you have nothing but time, your outlook on life starts to change. Your mind can become warped, and your humanity fades." His fingers glided up along her arm. "Immortality creates a kind of god complex, where you put yourself above others and force them to live by rules you've deemed as law. Ra's al Ghul, whoever has held the title, has almost always thought this way. While he's one of the most revered leaders in the world, he's also one of the most feared—both inside and outside of the League."
Sensing his apprehension, Felicity pressed, "So you don't want to live forever?"
"It doesn't matter what I want," Al Sah-him declared with a shrug. "Fate will catch up to me eventually. As long as I'm Warith al Ghul, it just doesn't have to be today." While his voice sounded firm, his eyes looked haunted.
Felicity's heart broke a little at that, and she reached out to touch his face. He sighed at the contact as his eyes fluttered closed. "Al Sah-him—"
"Oliver," he reminded her, his voice deepening. "I'd prefer it if you call me Oliver when we're alone." He opened his eyes to meet her stare.
"Oliver," Felicity acknowledged. She stroked his cheek, feeling the roughness of his scruff against her tender skin. "What happens to me in this scenario? Am I expected to use the pit, too?"
While one of Felicity's greatest fears was missing out on her life—especially spending so many years trapped by her father—the idea of living well past her time actually unsettled her. It seemed so dauntingly infinite. And the prospect of losing herself along the way, which Oliver said was common, seemed like nothing more than a slower kind of death.
"No. Typically, only Ra's and his heir use it."
"Spouses are excluded then."
"It's not a formal rule, but it's the way it's always been. Fidelity isn't a priority," he said grimly.
His words would've bothered her if not for one glaring fact. "But you showed me the pit and let me use it."
His stormy yet intense blue eyes never flinched from hers. "I did."
The underlying meaning of that simple declaration caused the thrum of desire already coursing through her to morph into a shuddering need. Felicity's hand drifted down the curve of his neck and along his shoulder. His muscles twitched under her touch before relaxing as she ventured lower. Her fingers reverently traced the red, raised ridges on his skin.
"I think it's admirable that you didn't wash away your scars," Felicity mumbled, wholly focused on her exploration. Ever since their wedding night, Oliver had never been shy about hiding his body from her. There had been countless times she'd looked upon him shirtless but, even sleeping in his arms these past weeks, Felicity had never actually allowed herself the intimacy of truly touching him. She hadn't been ready then, but she thought she was ready now.
"You really think so?" His voice came out low and gruff. His hand traveled along her back and bunched in her nightgown before sliding her forward.
Felicity gasped at the contact and closeness of their bodies pressed together. "Yes." Her own speech quivered. "They show how strong and brave you are." Recalling the way she'd enjoyed watching his muscles flex while doing the salmon ladder, Felicity let her hands slide along his torso. His skin was hot and smooth against hers until she reached the scar on his right pectoral. It looked like some kind of burn. Whatever it was had to have been extremely painful. Felicity placed her hand over it, gently caressing it.
"Maybe I should've kept mine, too," she murmured and went lower. Her palm spread across Oliver's abs as their noses brushed. When her fingers stroked the long scar on his stomach, he took a shaky, labored breath. She went lower still and felt his abdomen spasm under her touch, eliciting a groan from deep in his throat.
"No," he almost growled. It was obvious he was trying to keep himself in check. Despite holding her in his arms, he wasn't taking the same liberties of touching her. His hands stayed fisted against her lower back. "You don't deserve a reminder of that pain when you've done nothing wrong."
"I've gotten a lot of scars over the years, too. You can't see them," she told him, "but I feel them all the same." Felicity pressed their foreheads together. "They hurt a little less when I'm with you, though." It was the most honest she'd ever been with both Oliver and herself, and it felt damn good. Lifting her chin the tiniest fraction, Felicity felt their hot breaths mingle until her lips glided over his in a feather-light touch.
Oliver wound his hand in her hair but drew back. "You don't owe me anything, Felicity."
"I know." She slid her hand up his torso to reach the back of his neck. She tenderly stroked the skin there, which earned her another stifled moan from him. Despite his desire, his body was tight and coiled. He was still holding back, yet Felicity felt emboldened. "But you once told me"—she struggled to think through her own hunger building—"that if I ever wanted anything from you, all I need to do is ask."
"Oliver," she grazed his lips a second time, "I'm asking now." Speaking against his mouth, and putting her Arabic lessons with Sara to good use, she implored, "Boosni." Kiss me.
Her plea had the desired effect. His hand tightening in her hair, Oliver snapped and claimed her lips in a passionate kiss. They both moaned loudly at the sensation, clutching and clawing at each other in a desperate attempt to satisfy the burning temptation they'd long denied. For once, Felicity's overactive mind was silenced as she met his ravenous kisses with equal, if not greater, rhapsody. She kept her eyes closed and willingly let her heart take over. It thumped wildly in her chest, bringing Felicity closer to Oliver with every enraptured beat.
Translations:
Eid Al Ta'seesFounder's Day
Al Saif al Taweel = The Long Sword
shamsi = my sun
Al Baher = The Most Handsome
Hami Sharaf Al 'Athara = The Defender of Maiden's Virtue
Al Muharej = The Joker
Al Tareq = The Falling Star
boosni = kiss me