Chapter 88: Sisterly Rivalry

Mari's arrival had been fortuitous for the Assassins. Renewed vigor entered them, and with that, they began to turn the tide. Kara was the first to take advantage of the distraction, pivoting off the back of a fallen Shadow and plunging her sword into Al-Owal's midsection. She pulled her weapon out of him immediately, and finished him off with a single slash to the throat, deep enough to nearly decapitate him.

With the fall of one of their best fighters, the Shadows began to lose hope. Even with Talia desperately calling in for more reinforcements, her soldiers knew the score. No longer was victory in their grasp with this hero, who inexplicably still had her powers, present. No, defeat was the only option left for them, a bitter taste that left them blanching and retching.

As her comrades slowly began to finish the rest of the Shadows off, Nyssa cut her way through, finally confronting her sister face-to-face. The two women stared at each other for a moment, observing each other for the first time in many years. Like Talia, Nyssa had a brief dip or two in the Lazarus Pit, mostly to heal severe injuries, which also had a consequence of stalling her aging for a period. That is why she appeared to be the same age as Oliver and Laurel — in truth, she was anywhere from five to ten years older than them. The League cared little for keeping track of conventional time, after all.

How had it come to this? Despite the hatred she now bore for Talia, Nyssa couldn't help but mourn the woman that had been her sister in both blood and bondage. Memories of happier times flashed through her mind, of Talia teaching her how to hold a sword, to draw a bow. The way they shared such looks of love with each other, two siblings against the world. Talia had been her hero, once upon a time.

But as much as she liked to blame Father for the wedge driven between them, Nyssa knew that her sister was hardly innocent. No one in the League was innocent, of course, but Talia was the worst of them all, and for a long time Nyssa had refused to believe it. The whispers of unjust killings and tacit cruelty, the way she systematically engineered the deaths of any assassin that dared to upstage her — it was all just rumors, slander. Falsehoods intended to keep her sister from finally claiming her birthright.

She was only eleven when she learned otherwise. It was nothing more than a routine spar, a brief clash to test how far she had come with her lessons. Not once had she ever overcome her sister, nor did she ever expect she would, and she had been content with that. It had gone by in a haze, a practiced set of motions, but when Talia's blade descended upon her, Nyssa had just… reacted. She had caught it by the edge, flicking it away from her sister's grasp and holding her own sword to the neck, claiming the win.

There was shock first. And then anger. Hate. Feelings that Nyssa had never expected to be directed at her by Talia. Before she could comment on it, ask what she had done wrong, Talia had sheathed her sword and stomped away. The next week, she left on a mission with Al Sa-Her, and that was when the problems truly began.

When they had returned from that mission a month and a half later, the rumors began. Al Sa-Her had thrown himself before Father, respectfully requesting that he'd be released from his vow. Such a thing was rarely ever done within the League, and never within the reign of Father, so the gossip begun immediately. Al Sa-Her had been one of Father's Horsemen, one of his finest students, and seemingly loyal to the Demon. Why would his risk his neck asking for such a thing?

It wasn't long before fingers landed on Talia, especially when Father, against all expectations, actually granted Al Sa-Her's request, and with none of the conditions he would pile on Al Sah-him, Al Sa'iqa, and Saraab years later. When she later learned of the details of the mission, of the slaughtered harem, it became clear why. Talia was responsible for it, and while she had spun a tale for Father, he hadn't believed her. That was why he allowed Al Sa-Her to leave — the man's loyalty had been divided by what happened.

Father had begun to isolate Talia around the time. She was given less missions, less leeway. It was when Father had begun focusing more attention on her, taking charge of her training and advancing her through her lessons. That wedge between them only grew bigger, stronger, and Nyssa began to see more of her sister's arrogance and cruelty. There was no love to be found in those dark eyes anymore.

Then came that last mission. The mission that changed everything.

Another warlord. A routine mission whose difficulty was only dependent on how competent the warlord was, how vicious and brutal and paranoid they could be. Talia was sent with two others, and when they returned, those two others were shaken much like Al Sa-Her. They spoke of what they saw and Nyssa, deep in her heart, knew it was the end.

A slaughter. Of not just the warlord but of his village as well. Hundreds of innocent souls lost because of a few insults to her sister's person. Nyssa had been aghast, and had even attempted to sneak out to see the carnage for herself. She had been caught and punished but not too severely, for it seemed even Father had been put off by what happened.

The next week, Father named her the heir. The next night, Talia tried to cut her down. The next hour, she failed, and she fled into the night, and Nyssa thought they would never see each other again.

Talia, however, had proved her wrong.

"Sister," Nyssa said, voice cold, sword brandished before her.

"Sister," Talia acknowledged, equally arctic. She too drew her weapon. "Shall we skip the pleasantries and get on with it?"

A swing of the sword was Nyssa's answer, and so did the duel begin. The action around them began to slow as everyone's attention settled on the siblings. The sparks that flew off their blades, the way their feet moved as they jockeyed for position, so vicious a fight that one would believe that everything depended on this. It was false of course, for if Nyssa were to fall then Talia would die soon after, most likely by an arrow shot by Al Sah-him. The war had long since been lost, but Talia still wished for a victory, and this victory would be the sweetest of all.

But it was not meant to be. For Nyssa had surpassed her sister long ago, and that was a truth that Talia, even now, refused to accept.

They said a single moment, the slightest of openings, was all that was needed to win a battle, and if that were true, then Nyssa had taken it to heart. She saw her moment as her sister wrenched backwards, preparing for another slash of her sword. In the process, she had jutted the elbow of her other arm forward and Nyssa, like a striking snake, grabbed it with her free hand, pulling Talia forward. As her sister stumbled, Nyssa swung her own sword down, severing Talia's hand in one blow.

The resounding scream of pain was obscene. Even a woman raised in the ways of the League, taught that pain was inevitability and that suffering was merely a choice, could not stave off the excruciating agony of losing an appendage. Talia retreated like a rat before Nyssa could finish her off, tossing a smoke bomb with her remaining hand and fleeing like she had all those fateful years ago. And it was in that moment, that her students knew the war was lost.

But the Shadows were not fools. They knew that no clemency would be found even if they surrendered. So they continued the fight anyway. Before Nyssa could even contemplate chasing after her sister, she was beset again by enemies and the battle continued.

I'm getting sick of this. J'onn thought to himself as he once again flew upwards to dodge another blast from the Shadows. They had yet to hit him, but they were firing enough shots to bar him from reaching the switches. It was a stalemate, and J'onn thought it ridiculous because these Shadows, no matter how trained, were still mere humans.

Another hard blast broke off a piece of stone, and J'onn had enough. His comrades were out there still fighting, and the longer he stayed here the closer they inched to death. It was time to pull out the big guns.

The Shadows had only a brief moment of warning before a powerful push of telepathic energy disoriented them. It was a crude, brutish, and harmful form of combat telepathy that J'onn was always reluctant to use, but he was practically fighting a war right now, so he pushed pass any reservations he once had and went through with it. Before the Shadows could right themselves, they were knocked out by sharp blows to the head. J'onn walked past them to the switches, fingering the labels before flicking the ones he wanted to turn off. There was brief flash of red, and then the sound of a sonic boom, and J'onn knew that, at last, the day had finally been won.

As soon as Barry felt his powers return to him, he didn't hesitate to end the war. Conscious of the fact that his fellow Leaguers were present and would be uncomfortable if he killed the Shadows now that he didn't have to, he had elected to knock out the enemy army instead, bundling them up in groups of ten with rope he had found in the armory. He also did a quick run through of the entire fortress for Talia, even checking the secret passageways he was aware of, but it was no use. It seemed that despite the sheer confidence she had displayed in her victory, Talia had been prepared for the possibility of defeat, and had found a way to escape that would hide herself from even him. He doubted Kara would have much luck finding her either — the fortress had been lead-lined years ago to keep even her from learning too many of the League's secrets.

When he reported as much to Ra's, his master merely sighed. "We will simply have to deal with her on a later date. With how catastrophic the battle ended for her, she'll have difficulty keeping control of the Shadows, especially since she is now crippled. If the Shadows are anything like the League, a weak leader does not have long to live."

"If the Shadows were anything like the League then her minions would not have been so weak," Oliver commented disparagingly, glaring down at the many bodies that were being carried out of the atrium by the Assassins not currently being treated at the League's medical facilities. While the deceased Assassins would be interred in the catacombs, as per tradition, the Shadows would simply have their bodies burned in a massive pyre. They did not deserve the dignity of a proper burial, being such weak opponents.

"It seems my eldest daughter had far laxer recruiting standards than I," Ra's observed, his voice also holding a degree of contempt. "It would explain why she had so many to begin with. Perhaps she took whoever dared to come for her, instead parsing out the truly worthy." Not all that came to the League of Assassins, after all, were lost souls; just as many were greedy men who sought strength and power. Ra's had been quick to dispose of them, but it seemed Talia had been more permissive. It certainly would fit the policy the Shadows had towards their own missions.

"Some were loyal, however," Barry commented, thinking of the Shadow that had thrown himself in front his leader to take Barry's knife in her place. "She may have also collected orphans as well, particularly war orphans. Children lost with nowhere to go. With such misfortune everywhere, they would be easy to steal away and raise as her loyal soldiers."

"A valid deduction, Al Sa'iqa. Regardless, however, it does not matter," and here, the eyes of Ra's al Ghul grew dark, "the days of the Shadows are numbered. They have contended with the wrath of the Demon, and the fires of our rage are all-consuming. The very moment they dare to rear their heads again, we shall swoop in and strike them all down, and remind our enemies why we have stood strong for millennia before, and shall continue on for millennia after."

His students ruminated over his words for a moment, fear crystallizing in their souls. Once again, they were reminded of why, exactly, they had feared this man so. Ra's al Ghul did not suffer the enemies of the League to live, would maintain the Demon at all costs. They had to take care that he would never view them as threats to his chosen goal.

"Ollie!"

Everyone's attention immediately turned to the front of the atrium, where Laurel and Jefferson, both dirty and more than a little bedraggled, stood. A giant smile spread across Oliver's face, and he stepped forward, pulling Laurel into his arms, burying his face into her matted hair. It had been a long day, and he was glad he could spend a moment of it in his lover's arms.

As they let go of their embrace, the Justice League congregated towards their general area, one by one. It hadn't been quite as harrowing as the Dominator Invasion, but it had been dangerous all the same, and they were glad they had all managed to make it through alive.

"So this is the famous the Justice League that has become so revered around the world," Ra's mused as he leveled his gaze across the surrounding superheroes. "I must thank you for the aid you lent us during the battle. For that reason alone, I will not kill you all for entering our sacred ground. I shall even allow you to reside here within Nanda Parbat until you have fully recuperated from your injuries. And as a further gift…" He entered his hand into a hidden compartment within his armor, and withdrew a small slip of paper, handing it off to Barry.

Barry gazed down at it in confusion. "This is…?"

"The location of Al Sa-Her."

Immediately, eyes drew sharply up at him. "You knew?" Oliver asked, slightly astonished.

Ra's smirked. "I have taught you all well, but I didn't teach you everything," he said cryptically.

"Right then," Kara interjected, having remained silent for most of the conversation, "We should go and pick him up." She moved to leave, the rest of the League following her, sans two omissions. Upon realizing that via her extraordinary vision, she turned around, an eyebrow raised. "Aren't you two coming?"

Oliver and Laurel, still hand in hand, grimaced. "You guys can handle it. Laurel and I have something to talk to Nyssa about."

Quickly realizing what that was, everyone gave their assents and departed for Merlyn's presumed location. Ra's also gave them a quizzical look, but it seemed the matter of his daughter's personal life was of little consequence to him. He too left, wanting to take a look at what the Shadows had done to his beloved fortress himself.

That just left the couple alone in the atrium, with Nyssa. She had remained silent throughout the entire interaction between the Justice League and her father, and now that it was just the three of them, a certain awkwardness had settled in.

"Can we talk in private?" Oliver asked. Nyssa slowly nodded.

As the Heir to the Demon, Nyssa had her own personal quarters, not quite as sumptuous as those of her father but certainly at least as luxurious as the guest rooms of the Queen Mansion. Both Oliver and Laurel marveled at the furnishings; few had seen the insides of this room, and even Oliver, with the close friendship he had shared with Nyssa, had not seen it before.

"What do you wish for us to talk about?" Nyssa asked curiously after the door was closed and locked, guaranteeing what little privacy they had in a citadel of assassins.

The couple exchanged looks. "We've come to a realization recently, about our relationship," Laurel explained, trying to keep the nervousness out of her voice. "See, during the Dominator Invasion, we were captured, and placed into a forced sleep while the Dominators parsed through our minds for information. To keep us occupied, they placed our minds in an illusionary world, a hallucination of some kind."

"In that hallucination," Oliver continued where Laurel left off, "we were placed in our perfect world. Laurel and I were engaged and Rebecca Merlyn, Al Sa-Her's deceased wife, was alive. As a result, I never went on the Gambit and was never stranded on the island. There were plenty of other changes as well, but those were the biggest ones. It was… enticing, to say the least."

"We could tell there was something wrong," Laurel said quietly, "flashes of the real world, but we didn't want to believe any of it. It was so happy there. There was no pain to found anywhere."

"But then you appeared. In that world, you were a musical director for a famous orchestra band, and we hired you for our wedding. And seeing you… our feelings, they helped us break out of the illusion."

"Your… feelings?" Nyssa said slowly, as if trying to understand the words in conjunction with each other.

Oliver shifted forward, taking Nyssa's hands in his and clasping them tightly. "Nyssa, I'm just going to say it outright: I love you. I think some part of me always has, ever since you dredged me out of those waters all those years ago. And after everything that's happened, everything we've been through together over the years, I didn't think it was fair to keep my feelings a secret from you."

Nyssa blinked rapidly, before turning to the other half of the couple. "But Laurel—"

"I have feelings for you too, Nyssa," Laurel admitted, betraying her shyness. "They're not as strong as Ollie's, but they're there, and I don't think they're going away any time soon either."

"We don't expect anything from you, Nyssa," Oliver explained after his girlfriend finished, "We just wanted you to know. And if you don't feel the same — for either of us — then that's okay too."

Nyssa gazed at them both, face completely blank, before she sighed sadly. "Why must you both do this to me? Why must you give me this hope, knowing that it is hopeless for all three of us?"

Oliver frowned. "Nyssa, what do you mean?"

"I love you too, Oliver, and you as well, Laurel," Nyssa declared, with more than a little bitterness, "But neither of you belong with the League. Not anymore, in your case Oliver. And I cannot leave to be with you. I know how you must feel about our methods, but we are a necessary force in this world — the collapse of the League will only cause problems in the future. And this life… this life is the only life I have ever known. I cannot give it up." She peered at them both. "Not even for you both."

Both of the vigilantes couldn't help but deflate at that. While it was lightening to know that Nyssa returned their feelings, the fact that the three of them couldn't be together was a hard hit. "What do we do now, then?" Laurel asked.

Nyssa pursed her lips. "I don't know about the far-off future. But for today, and perhaps tomorrow, we have this time together. I suggest that we make use of it."

"You mean…?" Oliver asked, a little stunned.

Nyssa smiled. Despite themselves, Oliver and Laurel couldn't help but smile back.

Geez, I wonder what those three got up to.

Anyway, we've got two more chapters in this Act, and then we'll move on to the final Act of Arc IV. Man, writing this fic is getting easier by the day. At the rate I'm going I might finish Arc IV by the end of the month!

Provided I don't get distracted by my other story, of course, which I am working on simultaneously with this one.

Please comment or review, flames will be ignored, constructive criticism welcome, and don't forget to update the TV Tropes page!