BLUE EYES: Chapter 37

A/N: Wow... I can't believe that this is really the end. It took 10 months for this story to unfold, and now we have to let it go. For those of you who have followed this story that long, THANK YOU SO MUCH for sticking with it. I appreciate you! Thank you also for those who have caught up somewhere along the way. You are just as appreciated. You guys are simply amazing! I really hope you like this epilogue.

Almost two years later…

"Are you ready?" Oliver asked her. "The journey is going to take longer than usual." He smiled at her mischievously.

Felicity raised an eyebrow and smiled back at him. "As ready as I can ever be, considering the weight I'm carrying." She laughed softly, and he did too. It was wonderful how she was seeing her husband happy more and more since they were married.

Then she sighed and said, "I miss Starling. That old horse served us well."

"Yes, it did."

The first horse they'd bought when they had gone to Christentown together for the first time had retired and eventually died in the village after the second harvest, at just about the same time when the elders of the clan had paid their fale a visit.

How could Felicity forget that day? Oliver had been busy pounding rice grains beneath the house that day, while she was folding the clothes she had washed in the stream the day before. The civil conversation between him and the elders had quickly turned into a heated argument, and even with her limited Kinanyao at that time, she had understood why the elders had come and why Oliver had been upset.

At around that time, Chief Muidatu had fallen ill – so ill that not even the village healer nor the prayers of the priestess to the gods could do anything more. The elders had worried that Asintado's foreign wife still had not produced a male heir for the favored son of the chief, not even a single offspring. Felicity had heard her beloved reiterating that he loved her, and threatening to leave the village for good if they forced him to follow the tribal custom of taking a second wife. But since Wandatu had died when he'd come to Asintado's rescue at the Merlyn estate more than a year ago, and no other male child of the chief was as capable to lead the tribe like him or Asintado, the elders had wavered in their resolve to persuade Asintado to marry another. They elders had left disappointed yet impressed by the solid resolve of the Chief's son, which was, to them, an admirable and desirable trait to have in a leader.

Just like she had quite a few times since the first harvest had passed and she still hadn't gotten pregnant, Felicity would have cried in frustration at her inability to conceive. But the day the elders visited, she hadn't cried. In her heart, she had been prouder of her husband more than anything, and that had given her the inner strength not to give in to the tendency to mourn her misfortune. Oliver's love had been enough, and it still was.

The elders had not come a second time, or a third, for the chief had declared it on his deathbed a month later that his favored son should not be forced to marry another woman if he did not wish to, and that the tribe would do well to wait for an heir from his union with his foreign wife, no matter how long it took. At the brink of death, Chief Muidatu had still had faith in the prophecy, even if he had not lived long enough to see it for himself.

And yes, things had begun to change significantly after the death of the Kinanyao chieftain, when Asintado had been named his rightful successor.

A tribal feast had been held in the village to celebrate the new chieftain's ascension to leadership, with the elders and prominent families from the other clans on the island in attendance. The new mayor of Christentown had been present – a man by the name of Adrian Chase – and had been accompanied by Lyla Michaels, Roy Harper, and Big John Diggle. A handful of representatives from the colonial government had also been sent by Governor-General Blood all the way from Paradise Point.

Ever since that fateful day when Oliver, Big John, and Roy had delivered Malcolm Merlyn's body to the authorities, and then Dr. Ray Palmer, Moira, and Felicity had testified under oath about the atrocities that the corrupt businessman and mass murderer had done all those years, the perception of the foreigners about the Kinanyao had started to change. The government had begun to issue orders that allowed better trade with the natives and to enact less strict policies for security, allowing natives to travel all over the island more freely than before, now that the foreigners understood better that they were not as savage as they used to think they were. Likewise, the natives had understood that although there were indeed foreign plunderers who wanted to take advantage of the treasures of the tribe and the island, there were still those whose intentions towards them were noble. Chief Muidatu had encouraged clan leaders to be a little more welcoming of efforts by groups of foreigners to extend olive branches to the tribe. The relationship between the two peoples had improved, and the incidence of land-grabbing all over the island had significantly decreased. This had led them all – white-skinned and brown-skinned alike – to that audacious day of celebration about nine months ago.

How could Oliver forget that day? It hadn't been just a day of celebration, with him taking the reins of leadership over the tribe; it was also a day of peace, when he and the official representative of Gov.-Gen. Blood had sealed a peace pact with their own blood, drawn from shallow cuts on their forearms, as was the manner of covenant-making practiced by the natives since ancient times. Oliver had been sure that his father would have wanted to be present to witness such a peace pact, so he had publicly promised himself and his people that he was going to do his best to make sure that the provisions of the agreement were honored as far as their tribe was concerned.

But that was not the only thing that had made that day special for Oliver. It had also been the day when his Blue Eyes had danced in the Kinanyao way for the very first time. She had danced the tachok with the other women of the tribe, and then she danced the salip without the other maidens, inviting him to dance the traditional wedding dance with her. She had learned the salip and practiced it every day for two weeks with the help of his youngest sister Amihan. They had been deprived of a proper wedding feast when they had been wed rather hurriedly the day he saved her from burning at the stakes, so he had gladly and willingly obliged his wife. To his eyes, she had never looked more beautiful than she had that night, the dancing flames of the giant bonfire casting shadows on the fair skin of her bare limbs, neck, and upper chest. Like the other women of the tribe, she had worn tribal cloths to conceal the parts of her body that only her husband ought to see, especially because of the presence of the foreign guests that might not take such a daring act on her part very well. But even with her breasts modestly covered all the way to her back, and the wrap-around skirt that covered her from the waist to just above the knees, Oliver could not deny how attractive she had been in his eyes. He had been the proudest married man in the feast that night, and he had made sure to let her know just how he felt by dancing the salip like no Kinanyao warrior had ever danced before, to the envy of all the other Kinanyao women present.

Oliver was sure that the night he had intimately shared with his wife on the night of that feast had been the night when Felicity had finally conceived.

"Goodbye, both of you, for now," Moira said as she embraced and kissed her son and her daughter-in-law goodbye.

"Goodbye, Mother," Oliver replied.

"Thea and I promise to visit as soon as you send word that that my grandchild has arrived."

Moira knew that she would miss them sorely. The past eight months had been the happiest she had ever been for more than fifteen years.

Oliver and Felicity had stayed with her and Thea at the Merlyn estate for the past several months. Felicity had been preoccupied with starting a small school for natives in Christentown. Lyla had given her one of the rooms in her inn to use without charging her for lease, because the generous woman fully supported her advocacy for education among the natives. Even the new mayor had granted permission, and after just a couple of weeks since they had arrived, the doors of the school for reading and writing had opened. Oliver had learned even more things about his family and his people, and he often joined the lessons, admiring the brilliance of his wife even more. In the afternoons, he had taken it upon himself to teach the native boys and girls how to shoot with bows and arrows. The children and the townsfolk, native and foreign, had learned to adore and respect the half-white, half-tribal chief of the Kinanyao, as well as his lovely and intelligent wife.

Every now and then, Oliver would travel up the mountains with either Big John or Roy Harper to see to the village and the affairs of the tribe, leaving Felicity in the care of his mother and sister. Although Felicity had learned to love the village and the Kinanyao and to adjust to the tribal way of life, she had insisted on staying behind for the sake of her young students who had been making impressive progress in just a few weeks' time.

The very first time that Oliver had gone back to the village in the Abu Mountain was unforgettable. He had scarcely been in the village for three days when Moira had sent word to him that Felicity had suddenly fallen ill. He had wasted no time coming down the mountain, only to be told by the physician whom Moira had fetched from Paradise Point that his wife was with child. That had been the most wonderful news that he had received in all of his life. The entire household and the servants of the estate had celebrated, and upon sending word to the village, the Kinanyao had also held another feast to celebrate the blessing of Kabuniyan.

Felicity, however, had not been able to travel up and down the mountains in the last eight months because of her condition. She had had a difficult first three months, but Moira had been there for her like a doting mother-in-law helping her son to take good care of his pregnant wife. After Felicity had finally gotten her strength and her appetite back, she had devoted the last five months in teaching the children at the school. She had wanted to give them advanced lessons, and to train young Roy Harper to take over her teaching duties when her time came to deliver the baby.

This was why Moira and Thea were sending them off that day.

By tradition, the Kinanyao expected the possible heir of Chief Asintado to be born inside a tribal village with the blessings of the elders and the gods. (Everyone wished for their first child to be a son.) Felicity had agreed to it, even if Oliver had assured her that she didn't need to, because she knew how much it meant to her husband. She had also wanted to show the tribe how grateful she was for having accepted her as one of their own. Someday, she still wanted to introduce them to the God she believed in and give them a chance to make their own choices about who or what to believe in. It would truly help if more of the natives could read, because she really wanted them to be able to read her most favorite book of all.

And so, Oliver and Felicity were all set. They had bought new horses to help carry her and their belongings up the mountains, for a carriage would not be able to make it all the way up to village. Big John had offered to join them in the journey, knowing that in her condition, Asintado would certainly need all the help he could get. According to Moira's physician, the time for her delivery could come at any moment. They only hoped it would not happen until they reached the village and got settled in their mountain home.

After one final embrace with Moira and Thea, Oliver and Felicity left the estate with Big John Diggle, excited for the next chapter in their lives.

A week later…

Blue. His son's eyes were bluer than his own, bluer than his wife's. Oliver marveled at the little wonder that he held in his arms. How their tiny infant loved to sleep! But every now and then when he was awake, he would open his eyes a little, and Oliver was sure that they were the color of the clear, summer sky on a lovely day.

Azul. That was to be his son's name. Oliver was sure that Felicity would agree.

Felicity hadn't really rested yet since giving birth. Soon after the women had gotten her cleaned up, she had asked for the midwife to teach her how to nurse. The birth pangs had come early and too slowly for the midwife's liking, and the labor had taken almost an entire day. Yet instead of settling on their mat to rest and regain her strength, she was determined to make sure that her breasts were ready for their infant to suck and get nourishment from. She refused to rest until their son nursed, because she had learned from her father, the late Dr. Smoak, that the first milk that comes out of a mother's breasts were rich in nutrients that would help strengthen a baby's immune system. Oliver had only watched from afar, admiring his wife and thinking that she was actually the strongest, bravest person he knew.

The midwife, who had been busy massaging Felicity's breasts for the last half hour or so, called out to him in Kinanyao, "Noble Chief Asintado, your wife is ready to nurse."

"Wen," he replied. He brought their son over and kneeled on the mat beside Felicity. She received the baby and positioned him such that she could nurse him properly. Guiding her baby's mouth, she finally got him to latch on and feed. Felicity winced a little bit, feeling the initial discomfort, but after a while, she became more relaxed, a smile blossoming on her face at the sheer contentment that she felt deep inside as she nursed their firstborn.

"We are doing well. You may go now, Manang. Thank you for everything," Felicity said to the midwife.

The midwife nodded in understanding. She stood up and turned to Oliver, saying in their native tongue, "Take care of your wife and child. Kabuniyan is pleased. I'm sure your father is pleased too." At the doorway of their fale, the midwife stopped and turned back to them. "I will be back before sundown." To Oliver, she said, "We will prepare the guava leaves. It will help her with the pain. She will heal better."

"Thank you," he replied, and then the midwife descended the steps and left.

Once they were alone, Oliver sat down beside Felicity on the mat so that they were both leaning back against the wooden wall of their native house, which to the Kinanyao symbolized the safety inside a mother's womb. The light coming through the open doorway was just enough to illumine the interior, just enough for both of them to behold in awe the precious little bundle of joy that is their son. He kissed her temple, and she let her head rest gently on his shoulder.

Felicity had never thought this was what God had in store for her when she planned on the trip to the colony with her father. All she had wanted was to make her life count and make a difference in the lives of people. When her father was brutally murdered more than a week ago, she had thought that her dream was no longer possible, especially when she had been so rudely trapped in a marriage of convenience, even if it was one that had saved her life. But now, as she sat in tranquil space, alone with the love of her life and their newborn son, she couldn't help but think that miracles still happened in mysterious ways. How two people from the same city of origin and subjected to a similar heart-rending tragedy could possibly meet in a distant place and fall in love amidst turmoil, seemed too incredible to fathom, not even her intelligence could grasp it. Oliver had been the key to her survival, and she had been the key to his revival. She now had everything that she ever wanted and more – a school and a vocation that helped others, a family, a loving husband, and a beautiful child.

One day, she hoped, her mother could see her first grandchild, hoped that the joy that their baby brought would change her mother's mind about the path that she had chosen to walk. Ray had written her a while back, telling her that her mother Donna Smoak was still grieving the passing of her father. Her mother had not yet written her herself, and knowing her mother, it must have been because she still had not accepted everything that had happened. She had prayed since the day she received Ray's letter that her mother's heart would change.

Chasing away the gloom of that memory, Felicity looked at her son in wonderment and said to Oliver, "He's beautiful, isn't he?"

"Yes, he is. Just like his mother."

She lifted her head and shifted a little so that their lips could lock. There was so much love in their eyes, they didn't need to say the words.

"Oh…" Felicity gasped in surprise, as the little baby tugged at her breast, reminding her of what she was expected to be doing at the moment. Oliver laughed slightly at that. He thought that his son was going to be so much like his mother – always wanting to get her way.

He ran his fingers down his son's cheek, silently adoring the little child in Felicity's arms. "His name is Azul," he declared softly.

"Azul… I like it," she replied with a smile, acknowledging what the native name meant. "I'm sure he's going to grow up strong and brave like his father."

Strong and brave like his father. The words scared him and challenged him at the same time. The task of leading an entire tribe was not half as daunting as that of raising their son to follow in his footsteps and someday lead. And this was just the beginning. Now that they knew that Felicity was capable of bearing children, he wouldn't be surprised if they would have more in the future. Oliver smiled, thinking to himself what that would entail. There was no denying that he loved those intimate moments with his wife.

Not a minute later, a sobering thought filled his mind. What legacy would he pass on to his son? What kind of future was he ushering both his people of origin and his people of heritage into? They were living in such a crucial and pivotal time in history, and he knew in his heart that though better days have come, they would, most assuredly, not be free of struggle. Not knowing what lay ahead, he closed his eyes and prayed for a hopeful future and for continued peace on the island, for the sake of his children and their children's children.

For now, like his wife Felicity, Oliver Queen, Chief of the Kinanyao people, was happy and content with his lot in life.

THE END

A/N: And, that's it! I hope you drop a line, even if it's just a phrase, to let me know that you've been there all along. If you can spare the time, letting me know what you liked about this fic would be nice. This has been an amazingly long journey, much like PURPLE HEARTS was.

Would you be interested in a sequel? You might have noticed that I have dropped a few hints that allow the plot lines in the epilogue to be open for something like that. I have some ideas, that are already exciting me just thinking about them, but if no one is interested to read a sequel to BLUE EYES, I might as well just forget them. Time to write is already difficult to squeeze in to my weekly hectic schedule, so I'd really like any writing that I do to count. Let me know what you think, and what you might expect in a sequel, if ever.

Author's Notes:

1. The tachok is a festival dance from the Kalinga tribe in the Cordillera mountains of northern Philippines. It is usually danced by women during celebrations and happy occasions like weddings, the birth of a firstborn baby boy, or a peace pact called the budong. Dancers imitate birds flying in the air. The music is provided by flat gongs called gangsa, which are played either with sticks or with the bare hands.

2. The salip is a traditional wedding dance performed by a groom and his bride. The man dances with a cloth or blanket, signifying the protection and comfort he promises to give his wife. His movements imitate those of a rooster at love play, aspiring to attract and seize his woman.

3. The leaves of the guava tree have medicinal value and has been known for its healing properties. For women having given birth, it helps heal the wound. The leaves are first cleaned and washed and then boiled. The woman can sit over the container of the boiled leaves and allow the steam (at a safe, bearable distance) to soothe her. Water from the boiled leaves can be used for washing the private parts also, when it is no longer scalding hot, to help the wound heal. I have given birth in the modern age, but I tried this traditional remedy when I gave birth to my firstborn, and it did work wonders. :-)