Disclaimer: Yeah, not mine.

There's a bit in the middle part of this chapter that some might feel is a bit preachy - I don't think it is, nor is it there deliberately in reference to events happening across the US, but it certainly is probably inspired in part. But it does serve a purpose for advancing the story and my plans for the characters.

Vigilantes' Dawn

By Kylia

Chapter 25: Conversations With Assassins

The Foundary

March 25, 2013

Because that man, Laurel, is Al-Saher.

Being stunned into speechless silence was not something that happened to Oliver much in recent times, but Nyssa's words certainly were that now. Despite Laurel speaking of her more than once since they'd found eachother again, Oliver had never met her.

His first thought on seeing her, even after knowing who she was, had been to assess the threat she posed. She had a long knife at her belt, and a sword on the other side, as well as her bow, red-feathered arrows in her quiver. From everything Oliver knew, the woman was deadly capable with both. He'd not want to get into a duel of archery with her, and he doubted - even ignoring their closeness - Laurel would want to get into a sword fight with her.

Together the two of them could handle her, Oliver reasoned, if they had to. She was Laurel's teacher with the blade, and no member of the League would bring a bow and quiver without being skilled with them - and the standards the League of Assassins was said to set for 'skilled' were punishing and exacting.

The greatest advantage Oliver could play against her was likely the fact that he was taller and stronger - but equally, Nyssa would be lighter on her feet.

When she started speaking, Oliver paid close attention to her words, and her motions - he had no desire to fight her, but he had to know how best to beat her, if it came to that.

But then - then she said that Malcolm Merlyn was Al-Saher. That Merlyn was the Dark Archer, the man who had killed Adam Hunt, Ravich... held those people hostage.

It seemed impossible - he knew Mr. Merlyn. Had known him all his life. Tommy was his best friend - how could Tommy's dad be... this? And why? Why would a man so wealthy as Merlyn be an assassin for hire.

But it fit what they knew. Merlyn had been gone for two years when Tommy was eight - right after his wife died. He had the right hair and eye color. And Tommy had said how... cold his father had become.

But still.

"That's - that's insane," Sara finally said, the first to speak. "Malcolm Merlyn's not - he's... he's an asshole and a ruthless capitalist but he's not a killer."

"Al-Saher did not earn the title of one of Ra's Al-Ghul's Horsemen in less than two years for his financial acumen, Sara Lance," Nyssa said calmly, looking directly at her. "He is a killer with few peers."

Sara started to say something in reply, and Oliver caught Laurel moving to interrupt when the door into the club opened.

"Right, you're all here. Good, of course you are, you haven't even had a chance to drop off your gear and all that fun stuff." Felicity babbled as she moved quickly to the computers. She didn't even seem to really notice Nyssa standing near them, just quickly sitting in front of one and connecting a tablet to it.

"Something's been bothering me all night, since you found out Merlyn was the target of the Triad hit. More importantly, where. Starling City Municipal Group was giving him the Humanitarian of the Year award, and that name rang a bell, but I only realized it on the way home and now I'm back here." Felicity sounded like she was tired and amped up, her mouth moving 90 miles an hour and almost too fast to be understood.

Oliver didn't even bother to try to interrupt her - her timing was terrible, but if it was about Merlyn, perhaps it could help make sense of some of this.

Felicity pulled up a list of names. "I've been looking into all the rich people in the city not on the list, like you guys had me doing it, and there's - every person who has won the Humanitarian of the Year Award from the SCMG has been a rich person in the city that's not on the list. Every. Single. One. Including your father - Mr. Queen. And some of his closest associates... including now Malcolm Merlyn and I mean on the one hand it's not odd that some of the people on this list - all bad people - wouldn't be considered humanitarians but-but-"

Felicity stumbled for a moment, then brought up several financial statements that moved across the screens. "Plenty of them have tons of charitable contributions on the books too. All for PR, sure, probably, but not one of them got Humanitarian of the Year in the ten years since it started?" She shook her head. "That doesn't make a lot of sense. They weren't even up for consideration at any point, as far as I can tell."

Felicity actually paused to take a breath, and Oliver interjected. Something about what she was saying poked at his mind, but he still couldn't get her point.

"What are you suggesting? What does this mean?"

"You guys decided that your dad was involved in the blackmail thing, that's why he had a copy of the book, and he won an award, and no one on the list, and it has to be a rich person behind it - I think the Starling City Municipal Group is behind it or is cover or something for whatever the blackmail scheme was. Because no one who was being blackmailed seems to be involved in it anywhere. At all!" Felicity finished hurriedly.

"This means - I mean I know your friends with his son because it's in the tabloids and he manages your club but I mean - this means Malcolm Merlyn is probably involved in this whole thing and hired that other archer to kill you guys and-" Felicity finally looked away from the screen and noticed the unfamiliar - to her - woman standing right there, nearly behind her, watching her screens with interest.

Felicity's startled gasp was almost a half-scream, really, asshe nearly jumped out of her skin.

"I - who - who is-" she started.

"I am Nyssa al-Ghul, heir to the Demon," the woman said eying Felicity for a moment. "You possess a remarkable ability to speak quickly with little breath."

"Uh-... thank you?" Felicity managed to get out without stammering, though from the looks of her posture, it was a close thing.

"It was not entirely a compliment," Nyssa told Felicity, at the same time as Oliver interjected.

"Felicity, this is Nyssa. She's a member of the same organization the other archer used to belong to. That archer being... Malcolm Merlyn, as she came here to tell us."

"I knew not his name outside of the League, but that is the man. Older, more cold and calculated then when he first came to us, but the same man nonetheless." Nyssa nodded. "If you have been aiding Laurel and Oliver in their efforts-"

"I have! Or at least - I've been trying to- I- I'll just shut up now," She said, swallowing. "Let you guys talk this part out." She gestured to the other four of them.

Probably for the best. Nyssa didn't seem like she was happy about the interruption, though at least Felicity had provided the last clue to make this make sense.

"If Felicity's right - and it makes sense, even if it is flimsy as hell," Sara pointed out, "then that means Merlyn isn't a hired killer. Or at least... he hired himself."

"It's a perfect corporate mindset - cut out the middleman, do it yourself," Laurel pointed out, nodding. "And it creates a layer of protection, because no one would think a Billionaire would do his own murdering himself."

"If he was behind the list - he still told the truth when he said the man who wrote the list wanted us dead," Oliver pointed out. "The Hood most especially. And we saved his life." Oliver glowered at the ground for a moment, as if that would help. It didn't of course.

"I am not sure my Father would accept his death at the hands of others as you bringing Al-Saher to the League's justice," Nyssa admitted. "It might have been best that you assisted to ensure he survived." She stepped away from the computers, walking towards Laurel. She eyed Laurel's tonfas.

"I know you have sworn from killing, Laurel. But Al-Saher must die, you understand that?" She said quietly, looking Laurel in the eye. "A world in which you do not live would be a poorer one," she said, almost too quietly to be heard. "And if he is indeed not only Al-Saher, but the man you thought behind all you have fought, he needs to die."

Laurel bit her lip, inhaling a deep breath. She said something in Arabic that Oliver didn't understand - Russian, Chinese, sure. Arabic? No. He should probably learn it, though, especially if Nyssa was going to be a regular visitor once Laurel was safe.

Of course, for Laurel to be safe, Tommy's dad has to die...

The idea of killing his best friend's father to save Laurel... under any other circumstance, the thought would have been... well, it would have been unthinkable. His entire time as the Hood, he'd sought to do whatever he could to protect his friends and loved ones. Tommy had already lost his mother... he'd nearly lost his father tonight - after Oliver had pushed him to mend some fences, or at least, try...

And now...

Now he'd have to lose a father.

Tommy already has issues with the Hood... with how he - I - kill. If the Hood killed his father... especially without a way to prove just what Merlyn was up to.

There was no not killing Merlyn. Not after what he'd done, after what he was doing. He'd sunk the Queen's Gambit. He'd killed Adam Hunt, Nelson Ravich... taken those people hostage. He'd done god knew what else as part of his blackmail scheme and to keep it covered.

And who knows what he's doing with all of that money in the first place. Oliver wasn't naive, even if he was not well versed in how to run a company or how to actually make money - though Verdant had been a crash course in that.

But even he understood how even someone like Malcolm Merlyn might find the idea of untraceable money appealing - he had millions of dollars to his name and millions or at least several billion through Merlyn Global, at least. But that money - especially Merlyn Global's - was public. Traceable.

Some sort of secret fund of money funded by blackmailing the wealthiest and most corrupt of Starling City? You could do a lot with that. Enough to kill over, as Sara had said when she'd suggested that blackmail was at the heart of all this.

While Oliver came to terms with the inevitable reality that Malcolm Merlyn had to die - Laurel seemed to be doing the same. She'd been silent after Nyssa spoke, but finally, Laurel nodded.

"I understand he has to die. And... after everything he's done... he certainly deserves it." Oliver could hear the pain in Laurel's voice as she confronted the notion she'd have to take another life herself. Oliver saw from the way Sara reacted that she heard it too, looking away, flinching a little.

Nyssa picked it up just as well. "Even in the League, you always strove for the light, for the highest ideals... that Ra's al Ghul set this task before you..." she said nothing for a moment, trailing off, as if unsure of what to say. "However... you may not have to be the one to deliver the killing blow." She looked at Oliver, then Sara. "His death is your task, but the ancient Law of the League is clear - a blood oath may be fulfilled by family - of blood, or of heart."

She looked to Oliver and Sara again, stepping back to catch them both in her gaze easier. "His death at your hands would satisfy Ra's al Ghul. Do you have the strength to do it, if you must?"

"That was always what I planned to do, once Laurel told me about Ra's deal," Oliver admitted.

"Not if I beat you to it," Sara growled, voice full of what he could only call hate. The expression on her face reminded him of her reaction to Laurel telling her about Ivo, or when Vanch had taken her...

Sara's hand fell to her gun. "Cops across the country get away with murder or nearly so plenty of times. More than I like to think about. Why don't I use that problem for good, for a change? Shouldn't be too hard to kill him without witnesses and make sure someone else takes the fall."

Oliver blinked - though he wasn't actually surprised Sara was so willing to kill for Laurel - she'd been ready to do it to Vanch, and she'd already proven that her position as a police officer was flexible where what was right and what was legal clashed.

"Sara, no-" Laurel spoke, her voice louder, more firm. "You can't."

"Laurel, I've killed people before. You were there when I did it. If that's what it takes to save your life - God, Laurel, this is the guy who sank the Gambit, and put you both through five years of hell." Sara protested.

"There's a difference, Sara, between shooting someone who is attacking you or someone innocent right then and there, and killing a man in cold blood. You're right, cops do get away with murder." Laurel walked closer to Sara, "You shouldn't add to that. I..." she bit her lip and swallowed. Oliver stepped towards Laurel, putting a hand on her back gently.

"I don't want to see you become a murderer." Laurel said softly, her voice almost breaking for a moment. She took a breath, and then spoke louder, stepping away a bit to look at both OIiver and Sara.

"Besides," she added, "We can't kill Merlyn - not yet."

Oliver blinked. What? The sudden comment, felt so abrupt that Oliver's mind just felt like a complete blank.

"Laurel, you cannot be serious. Al-Saher must die-" Nyssa said. "You cannot delay out of-"

"It's not a moral concern, Nyssa," Laurel interrupted. "Merlyn has to die. But he can't die now. Not until we know what else he's up to. At least- at least not while we have time," she added. "If he really is the man behind the List, the man who sank the Gambit - and this point that makes too much sense - then he's doing it for a reason. He's been blackmailing the richest scum in the city for years, and he's killed people to keep that secret, so he's not using the money to..." she threw up her hands a little, "I don't know, plant flower gardens to brighten everyone's day. He's got a plan - something he calls the Undertaking."

"If there's no other choice, no other time, then yes, I'll have to kill him," Oliver started to interrupt, repeating his willingness to do it in her stead, but she held up a hand and closed it into a fist, giving him a soft glare to be silent. Oliver swallowed his words - for now. "But we have time, and we have to use that to figure out what he's got planned."

Right. Of course that's what she meant. He nodded, slowly, and saw Sara doing the same.

Oliver couldn't help but agree with Laurel - pursuing the List and what it meant was what had driven him since he came back here, and yet...

Every day Malcolm Merlyn lived was another day Laurel's life was in danger from the League, less time to kill him, less time to save Laurel's life.

"What is this Undertaking, then?" Nyssa asked softly.

"We have no earthly clue," Laurel admitted. She looked over at Felicity, "Play the recording." Thankfully, Felicity knew which one Laurel meant, and she played it, that clip of his mother speaking to someone whose voice they originally couldn't identify.

But who could only be Malcolm Merlyn.

"Whatever it is, it requires large sums of illicit money and is worth killing over. He's... he's roped people into his plan through fear and intimidation, whatever he's doing..." Laurel shook his head. "Whatever he's up to is bigger than just my life, and it could happen even after we kill him. We need to know what he's up to first."

Laurel stepped away and set her tonfas and sonic device on the table.

"Then you will need a plan for that," Nyssa said, cautiously, accepting Laurel's argument. Oliver thought her expression suggested that maybe she wasn't happy about it, but... she was accepting Laurel's decision. "I cannot assist you in any execution, but if you would desire it-"

"If you want to help plan, I'd appreciate it," Laurel nodded. "But it is late, and... I still... I still need to process the idea that a man I've known through his son for over a decade is the man who did everything he's done."

Oliver couldn't help but agree. Everything fit, it made sense, and he didn't think Nyssa had lied at any point - why would she lie about Al-Saher's identity?

"Then I will return tomorrow." Nyssa nodded. She turned to walk towards the exit, but Laurel said something in Arabi, and Nyssa turned to face her.

"Thank you, Nyssa. For coming. For helping. For... everything."

"I should be the one thanking you, Laurel. I pray that you find the answers that you seek and that... what must be done does not do as you feared and change you."

It won't, because she won't have to be the one to do it. Oliver wasn't going to let Laurel kill Merlyn. She'd left the League because of what killing was doing to her, and -

Oliver couldn't deny that he'd been changed just as she had, but he'd never been anywhere near as good a person as Laurel. Laurel... he wasn't sure anything could truly diminish her light, but he wouldn't leave her to have no choice to feel like she'd crossed a line and became something she didn't want to become.

I won't fail her. He'd done that once, when they'd gotten separated after the Amazo. He'd failed her several times before, affairs, lies, secrets... being nothing like the man she deserved. He could never be good enough for Laurel, but he could do this for her.

Starling City Shooting Club

March 26, 2013

Sara hadn't had a chance to check in on Laurel apart froma few cursory texts. The assassination attempt on Merlyn, since the vigilantes had been involved in stopping it, the task force had ended up working with Organized Crime on it. Which meant her day had been busy, and she really needed to get back to the precinct to get back to it. But she'd needed a break.

Shooting a gun - at a lifeless target, anyway - was a simple, almost mindless activity that she could use when she needed to clear her head, when she needed to think about something.

When she had to grapple with the prospect that she might have to murder someone.

Bastard deserves it. Laurel might not want her to do it, but if she had to, Sara would. And it didn't bother her. Merlyn needed to die.

Of course, the very fact that she wasn't bothered by the prospect of murdering someone in cold blood and then covering it up, abusing her badge to cover it up, even frame someone or some group - even the Triad - for it...

That bothered her.

Sara took her pistol in both hands and fired, quickly emptying the clip into the paper target at the far end of the range, getting all of them in or near the center ring.

She'd been so sure of becoming a police officer, and then a detective. Sure, police brutality and overreach was a thing, but it had all seemed so simple when she'd started. It wasn't. Corruption, coverup... the thin blue line.

Starling City Police Department was better than a lot of other cities, true, but it wasn't perfect. Far from it. She'd never been forced to turn a blind eye to an officer-involved death that wasn't actually as justified as someone pretended, but she'd ignored excessive force. She knew racial profiling and harrassment was the core approach of all too many colleagues she knew well, even would trust to watch her back in the Glades.

It was the thing she'd always hated, always hated having to realize it was bigger than just 'bad applies', that the old school approach to policing that her father - who she'd always kind of idolized growing up, in a way - still practiced to a degree was... wrong. That there were problems in the whole structure.

It was one of the reasons she'd been so willing to ignore the rules of the badge to help Laurel and Oliver - not just because Laurel was her sister. She didn't like to think about it, when she didn't have to, but it was real. And so... well, if others could ignore the rules to do bad things, couldn't she help? Justice was more important than the law, and...

But it shouldn't be so easy. Especially not to contemplate taking that final step, crossing that final line.

I always told myself I would be a good cop. I've tried to be. But actually taking Merlyn to trial isn't possible anyway. He needs to die, and Laurel doesn't want to have to be the one to do it.

The whole situation had left her needing a lot of time to think. And so, she was here.

She could have used the police shooting range, but her dad knew that she went shooting to clear her head, so she didn't want to have him asking what was bothering her. So she did what she always did when she wanted to clear her head without her dad asking her why.

She came to a private shooting club. Fortunately, she was the only one out on the range at this point.

Or at least, she was until the door opened and a familiar face walked in. Sara was halfway through changing the target and sending it back out to the end of the range when Nyssa 'Raatko', dressed in casual, normal-looking clothes, a black, somewhat loose shirt and a pair of dark grey slacks that...

Fuck. Okay, Sara had to admit it - everything else aside, Nyssa might just be the most attractive woman she'd ever met.

Was a pity about all that everything then. Okay, seriously Sara, are you really saying that under different circumstances, you'd try to have a night with this woman you barely know?

Well... yeah. Sara was saying that. She wasn't averse to a one-night stand, even if she hadn't had many in recent years but... damn. Sara didn't let her eyes linger too much on Nyssa's hips, and instead moved to watch her eyes, her eyes, her face. The woman's expression was unreadable, even for Sara.

Nyssa was holding a gun, safety on, pointed downwards, and had in her other hand, the ear protection you needed at the range. Looking all the part like she was just here to shoot.

Sara set her gun down on the small table in front of her shooting stall, but she didn't actually let go of it. She didn't intend to do anything with it, but...

Well, Nyssa was an Assassin. Bad idea to let your guard down around her. Sara moved her ear protection off down to around her neck.

"Is there a reason you followed me?" Laurel had said the League didn't really use guns, so Nyssa wasn't here for the primary purpose of the range.

"I came to speak to you," Nyssa stated the obvious, walking towards her, speaking quietly as she came close. "You do not like me, Sara Lance," Nyssa murmured.

"I don't know you enough to dislike you, Nyssa." Sara pointed out, flicking her pistol's safety on, letting go of it, slowly. "And... look, you were there for Laurel when I couldn't be because I thought she was dead. You risked yourself to come here to help Laurel. You... you were good to Laurel, and still are. I like that. But I don't trust you."

"Because I am of the League?" Nyssa asked, her tone implying she expected the answer to be yes.

"Before Laurel told me it was a thing, I'd never even heard of this 'League of Assassins' - talk about a name full with single entendre - so no..." Sara bit her lip. Maybe it wasn't a great idea to mouth off to the trained killer that Laurel had suggested was even better than her at hand to hand combat. Then again, Nyssa's hardly going to kill me if I'm rude to her.

"Let me put it like this - if Laurel doesn't kill Merlyn in time, and your... Ra's al Ghul tells you to kill her, what would you do?"

Nyssa said nothing for a long moment, her face unreadable. "I cannot defy the Demon's Head, or the law of the League. To do so would be madness." Her tone was utterly flat and emotionless. I guess she doesn't like being forced to admit she'd kill Laurel.

"So yeah, I don't trust you." She couldn't hate Nyssa, not knowing how the League was basically one of the brainwashing cults, and that Nyssa had been raised in it, but... that wasn't the point, was it? and if Nyssa did kill Laurel... well, then Sara would hate her. And do everything she could to get revenge. "Now, unless you're going to shoot that gun, you should probably clear the range."

Sara covered her ears again and picked up her gun again, and flicked off the safety, aiming it at the target. Nyssa didn't leave, but instead put on her own ear protection and moved to one of the firing lanes. Sara watched Nyssa set up her target, then start shooting.

Nyssa's firing form was solid, and whatever the League's lack of interest in guns, the other woman clearly knew how to use one. Still as Sara watched the target, she could tell that Nyssa was not as good with a gun as Laurel had said she was with other weapons. She hit the target every time, but she didn't hit the center ring every time. Close, and hit it once, but not every time.

"I thought the League didn't like guns," Sara commented, once Nyssa finished firing.

"Guns are... inelegant." Nyssa noted. "A crutch for weapons that require true skill. But circumstances may sometimes require their use."

"Because only swords and bows and stuff that went obsolete centuries ago takes skill?" Sara rolled her eyes. "I'll give you that they're inelegant, but I don't think elegance and killing people go together." Killing, even for good reason, should be messy. Dirty. 'Inelegant'.

What was it that one General said? It's good that war is so terrible, lest we grow fond of it? She couldn't remember which one, but she was pretty sure they'd been involved in the Civil War. Regardless, the same applied here.

"Besides, shooting with a gun takes skill." Sara countered. She turned back to her own target and fired five shots rapid, right into the center of the target. "Anyone can shoot a gun. Not everyone can be good at it." Granted, Nyssa was good, but at least Sara could say she was better than this world-class assassin at something.

Granted, shooting a moving target was harder, especially if they were shooting back, but that was harder to test under the circumstances.

"And where would you be without your sidearm?" Nyssa asked, raising one eyebrow in a deliberate move.

"Someone who can manage without it," Sara replied, taking off her ear protection and taking down her target, heading for the exit.

Her father had always cautioned her to have a spare, when entering any situation she thought was dangerous. But there was no reason to share that tidbit with Nyssa.

After all.

She didn't trust the woman.

The Foundary

March 26th, 2013

Laurel was working out a few frustrations on the mook jong dummy, hitting all the rods with her tonfas quickly and repeating. Drawing up plans to actually figure out what Merlyn knew was easier said than done. They didn't know enough to know where to start looking, and they couldn't get any information out of Mrs. Queen. Not with Walter as a hostage, not with her being five years into this. She was so used to keeping secrets - and if Oliver and Laurel spoke to her as themselves, revealed they knew...

Well, that wasn't a good plan either. She could hardly imagine what Moira Queen's reaction to finding out her son was the Hood, or that she was the Black Canary.

Laurel paused a moment, setting one tonfa down to grab her bottle of water and drink a few quick sips when she heard the door open. She picked the tonfa back up, then relaxed as she saw Nyssa entering. She didn't really bother to ask how Nyssa was getting past the electronic lock - there were very places that could truly keep Nyssa out of somewhere she wanted to be.

"You fight with the same grace with your new weapons as you did with the blade." Nyssa mused, wearing her League garb again. Nyssa always seemed the most at ease in some variation of her 'uniform', but it was what she knew best, so that wasn't especially surprising.

"It took some readjustment." Laurel admitted. "The balance is different, and since they don't cut..."

"And yet you managed and more." Nyssa noted. "Have you begun to plan how to uncover the secrets of Al-Saher's plan?"

"I've tried. But it's not so simple," Laurel admitted. "I doubt he keeps the information handy on a convenient USB drive labeled 'Undertaking', and even if he did, he wouldn't keep it at his place, or his offices at Merlyn Global.

"I would not underestimate his pride and arrogance," Nyssa disagreed. "Al-Saher believed he could keep his actions secret from Ra's al Ghul. And I do not recall a man who possessed humility."

"So you really think it'll be that simple?"

Nyssa shook her head, smiling, "Of course not, but simpler than perhaps you are worried." She walked onto the training mat. "You did not abandon your blades, I hope?" She put her hand on the hilt of her sword, and Laurel shook her head.

"No, I didn't." Laurel walked over to the box they'd rested in since she'd come back to Starling City, pulling out the two blades, each shorter and lighter than Nyssa's sword, but honed to a fine edge. She'd only opened the box to ensure the blades were in good condition, but she hadn't even so much as trained with them since coming.

She wasn't even sure why she'd kept them.

But now, she supposed, was proof that she might have been right to keep them.

She walked back onto the mat and Nyssa drew her own sword. She stepped to the right and Laurel matched her with a step to the left.

"You've said what you know of the plan, but what do you know of the man?" Nyssa asked, her eyes on Laurel, watching her eyes, her hands, her feet - ready to respond to any move Laurel made. Of course, Laurel was doing the same, waiting for that barest hint that Nyssa was about to make a move.

"Less than I'd like to, when I stop to think about it," she admitted, stepping again to the left, which Nyssa matched. "What do you know of Al-Saher?"

"He was a driven, determined man. He rose fast through the ranks on skill - and proved himself capable of earning my father's regard with similar speed." Nyssa made her move, and Laurel only just had enough time to raise one sword into a position to block, catching her sword and then swinging at Nyssa's side with her other weapon.

Nyssa twisted away from her and from the swing, grinning. Laurel felt the rush of adrenaline as they started to spar in earnest, speaking between swings and attacks, moving, trying to step around the other.

She'd forgotten how much she had enjoyed this - not fighting, but the contest of sparring with Nyssa, by the end. Of sparring with anyone that could challenge her in melee. Oliver was good, very good, but he wasn't anywhere near the sort of challenge Nyssa or some of the others in the League posed. Though he'd been improving.

"He proved quickly able to be held in high regard by many in the League." Nyssa went on, ducking under another swing from Laurel.

"He's always been able to affect a charming enough air, when he needs to." But he'd let the veneer slip before, and it obviously was an act. But she'd seen it, from time to time. "I didn't know your father could be charmed." She blocked a thrust from Nyssa by catching the other woman's sword in both of hers, pinned between her blades.

"I have never understood how he did it," Nyssa admitted. "Nor what he did to get Ra's to agree to grant him release from the League."

Merlyn probably charmed Ra's by being just as twisted a bastard as him.

"Well, it worked, but not enough to retain Ra's favor, clearly," Laurel noted, lunging forward and they clashed blades again, blocking and catching eachother's blows. "I don't know what motivates him. Money, I guess but beyond that..." What was he using the money for.

Merlyn Global made more than enough money to make it so he didn't need to blackmail anyone to buy what he wanted. Unless it was something he couldn't normally buy.

"There is no better way to discover information than by discovery itself," Nyssa pointed out, jumping up and grabbing onto the lowest part of the salmon ladder, landing behind Laurel - though Laurel had already turned to face her. "You may not find out his plans in detail by entering his home or office, but it is a place to begin. Any clue - and if you are to kill him or see him killed by your beloved or your sister, you will need to enter his domain regardless."

That much was true, but Laurel was a little busy with another part of what Nyssa said.

"Sara is not going to be the one to kill him," she ground out, lunging forward, almost catching Nyssa off guard with the force behind her thrusts, but not quite as the other woman twisted away. "I won't let her have to make that choice."

She didn't want to be the one to kill Merlyn, but she didn't want Oliver or Sara to do it. Especially not Sara.

Oliver was more than willing to - and if he did... well, Oliver was still willing to kill when killing had to be done. In the League, she'd gotten so close to losing herself, with the killing. Oliver had managed to walk that line better than she had, and if he was the one...

"Then she shall not," Nyssa agreed. She darted to the side, then thrust her blade in the other direction, upwards and towards Laurel's neck. Laurel reacted, bringing one blade up to try to block Nyssa's strike, but her other aiming somewhere very different.

Nyssa moved her arm just enough to avoid Laurel's block, and Laurel tried to twist away, but she failed, the cold steel resting centimeters from her neck.

"You do seem to have let your skills-" Nyssa started, then she cut off as she felt Laurel's other sword pressed against her thigh, near her femoral artery. She chuckled and pulled back at the same time Laurel did. "Or perhaps not. Even if you do not yourself fight to kill Al-Saher, I would not go armed without your swords when you face him. His reputed prowess with the blade is great, and you will need yours to combat his."

"I'll keep that in mind, Nyssa." Laurel nodded, putting the blades back in their sheaths in the box. "Will you have to leave soon?"

"Within a few hours. I will try to be here again before the end..." she shook her head slightly. "But I do not think I will be able to."

"You don't have to. You've... you've done more than enough. One way or another, Nyssa, Merlyn will have to die." She bit her lip, then took a breath.

"I'm not going to let myself die." Not when she had come back from the brink she'd found herself in in the League, not when she had her family back, and Oliver, and was building a new life here again in Starling City, where she could help people both in and out of the mask.

Nyssa smiled softly: "From most others, that could be an empty boast, but from you, Laurel... your will is great enough to make it reality, I believe."