I hope you enjoy this chapter. TinaDay3W encouraged me to write a wedding and a honeymoon. With all of the excitement around Oliver and Felicity finally getting together tonight, I agreed. This first chapter covers the prep and the ceremony.
xxxXxxx
The handmaidens collected Felicity early in the morning, just as the sunrise decorated an unfamiliar horizon. The attendants took her down narrow halls to a small room. There, she was told to disrobe and learned that undergarments would not be a part of her formal attire. Felicity rolled her eyes. Of course, they wouldn't. Next, the women brought out tiny sticks and brushes. With them, they painted tattoos on her flesh. Inquiring how long they would last and learned they would remain on her skin for roughly a week. The quills they used tickled her at first and caused her to squirm, frustrating the artists, until Felicity got used to the feel of them moving across her skin. Excerpts from sacred texts and League symbols were carefully executed on her arms, her back and her belly. She was asked personal questions about her life with Al-Saheem and her words were transformed into scripts and images that were added to her porcelain skin.
Her hair was a whole "thing." After several different fussy hairstyles, she convinced them to leave it down with a top layer gathered in a braid to keep it from flying into a nearby fire. Once the ordeal of the hair was completed, her ink was nearly dry. She was powdered and told to wait for the next step – receipt of her ceremonial costume. As she waited, she admired the brown, flowery patterns of the words and the occasional scandalous placement of images against her paleness.
The ceremonial garment was not the ballerina-style tulle gown that Felicity had imagined for her wedding day. No, what she was swathed in more closely resembled a scarlet shroud. The handmaidens had brought it to the private chamber and presented it to her like it was custom Christian Siriano. She accepted it with a sigh and a quiet sniffle.
Hideous burlap flats. That's what she was wearing today instead of the breathtaking pair of Louboutin wedding shoes she had splurged most of a paycheck on once and tucked in the back of her closet for "one day in the future." Doing the opposite of admiring her feet, she supposed that if a fight broke out, she would at least be able to run faster.
The only thing that made her feel like a blushing bride at the moment was the fact that she was wearing absolutely nothing under the heavy robe. Nothing would cover the artwork that had been applied to her body earlier. So, there she was, going commando and it felt a bit weird. She babbled to the handmaidens about how she usually wore panties and that thongs felt like dental floss, but they simply stared at her. She was grateful now for the hideous sack she was wearing and wished it would smother her.
On the up-side, there were unlikely to be any photos to document the proceedings. She had to keep reminding herself that this ceremony wasn't a real wedding – not in the eyes of the law, anyway. It was still an important ritual though, one that would effectively take their relationship to another level with head spinning speed. She tried not to dwell on it. They would figure things out as they went. Felicity assured herself that being joined with Oliver in this place would enable her to protect him from these people and his own self-destructive tendencies more effectively. The proximity and status of her new role would enable her to bring an end to whole mess…eventually.
After a brief mid-day meal in the chamber, Felicity was led to a library. There, the librarians showed off their extensive collection, which included, rather unexpectedly, erotica. She tried not to appear scandalized as they matter-of-factly flipped through manuscripts illustrating highlights of previous wedding nights. She was told that the women of Nanda Parbat kept the records and that she was to be tasked with chronicling the exploits of Al-Saheem. This meant future visits to the library, which pleased her very much – another opportunity to learn about the nest of vipers they were living amongst.
She headed back to her chamber for a time of quiet reflection gripping a piece of paper with the vows she was to recite during the ceremony. She knew how important it was to reflect well on Oliver and hoped she could deliver the words as perfectly, and with authenticity. Arriving in the room, she found that a curious necklace made from colorful orchids had been left on the table with a note.
Ms. Smoak,
Thea is still asleep, but I know that if she could attend today, my daughter would be happy for you, despite the rather unusual circumstances. Your soon-to-be sister would want you to have flowers, like any other bride. Since carrying a bouquet is not acceptable within League tradition, you might wear this under your garments on behalf of the young woman you have sacrificed so much for and as a reminder that beauty and love can be found in even the harshest places. Oliver is a very lucky man.
MM
Felicity hadn't cried yet today, but now several tears streamed down her cheeks. She had spent the day so far, surrounded by strangers – which felt very wrong for a life-changing occasion. Feelings of fear and concern for Thea had not left her since they had arrived in Nanda Parbat. This was a gesture of respect and kindness she had not expected and only just realized she desperately needed.
Felicity studied her "speech" for an hour, practicing the words until she knew them by heart. When she had it down, she took the paper, along with Merlyn's note, and touched them to a nearby candle, setting them aflame before tossing them in a nearby metal bowl until they were nothing but ash.
As dusk fell, Felicity heard attendants arrive outside the chamber to escort her to the ceremony. She quickly opened her robe and donned the lei, breathing in its sweetness before tucking it out of sight and tightening her sash. Two attendants entered. The hood of her robes was lowered over her face and she suppressed a giggle. The humor of her wearing a hood while committing herself to "The Hood" was not lost on her. She was also excited because she had missed him all day and would finally be able to see him again.
Amusement did not last long. She was brought out into a square illuminated by torches – these people loved their damn torches. From beneath the red robe covering most of her face, she glimpsed faces that were now becoming familiar. Her vantage point, off to the side, enabled her to see a fire pit and two pillars on a raised pedestal in front of the crowd. Ra's strode in and took his place on it.
Merlyn suddenly moved by her side, himself in a black robe, looking more like the Dark Archer than usual. The two made eye contact. He leaned toward her and whispered.
"Whatever happens next must not be interrupted. You may want to cry out for him, but you cannot. Not a sound. Nothing can stop this now. He'll be alright, but he can't be worried about you."
Felicity's eyes grew wide with concern.
Next, Oliver walked in confidently, like a prize fighter ready for a bout. He wore a dark tunic, loose trousers and boots. His eyes burned deep blue in the fire light. Felicity wanted to run to him, but she stood still, understanding that this was not the time or place.
She looked on curiously as the coals of the fire pit were jostled by pokers. Then Ra's took an iron brand with a hook at one end and placed it within the hottest part of the pit. Attendants helped Oliver remove his tunic, leaving him bare-chested. He seemed calm, almost drugged as he stood there on display for the audience of assassins. He had spent much of the day in meditation, readying himself to face the challenge of the ceremony.
Then, Ra's clapped his hands and the attendants swarmed him. When Oliver submitted to being chained to the stone pillars, Felicity finally figured out what was happening. Her eyes darted from his torso, to Ra's, to the brand that was glowing in the fire pit. Her body instinctively tense and moved forward, but Malcolm stopped her, grabbing her hand. She steadied herself and gulped. Then Ra's spoke.
"Tonight we witness the beginning. My heir, moving toward the place I have bestowed on him. The next Demon's Head has been chosen with great care. He will be an exceptional leader. He is a fighter. A survivor. This man will command your respect and earn your loyalty. When we meet here again one month from today, the final ceremony will occur and he will take my place. Tonight begins his transition toward a new life as a new man. We shall first observe his courage and strength. Then he will take his new name, Al-Saheem. And finally, he will take a Consort, signifying his commitment to her and to the League.
Felicity kept her eyes glued to Oliver's face. It concerned her that she could not see any sign of recognition on his face. Then, she saw Ra's pick up the golden brand from the fire. He turned and faced Oliver.
"You accept this without fear. Without pain." Ra's raised the hot iron shape in front of him.
Oliver nodded, the only sign of his consciousness of what was going on. Felicity started to whimper. Malcolm moved behind her. Still holding her hand, he muzzled her with his forearm, and leaned into her ear. "Quiet. If he's distracted by you, he will fail the test."
Felicity blinked tears from her eyes and nodded. He was right. She closed her eyes and heard the sound of hot metal searing his skin, but she heard no sound of Oliver Queen. She smelled burning flesh and willed her turning stomach to refrain from rushing up her throat. At this point, Malcolm was holding her up and she was grateful. It wouldn't reflect well on the new Heir if his Consort passed out during the ceremony. She was expected to be brave.
When she opened her eyes and looked upon her love, there was a 4-inch angry welt opposite his Bratva tattoo. His jaw was tight and his eyes were piercing an unknown point in the distance. He was standing strong, unwavering. Ra's looked on him, appeared satisfied with his handiwork and Al-Saheem's reaction. He handed the brand to an acolyte.
"From today on, you are no longer Oliver Jonas Queen, the son of an ordinary man. You are Al-Saheem, Heir to the Demon's Head. You are the Arrow, sure and steady, deadly and straight. One day all will heed your will or they will feel your wrath."
Merlyn loosened his grip on Felicity before Ra's turned and offered his hand out, summoning her. All eyes were now on her and she suddenly found herself frozen to the spot. Malcolm took her arm and tugged. He began to walk her forward towards the pedestal. It occurred to her that Malcolm Merlyn was basically giving her away. How fucked up was that? She didn't care. The alternative, tripping over her unsteady feet, unassisted, was not acceptable. Reaching the pedestal, Felicity was grateful for her crappy flats as she climbed up. Merlyn stayed behind, leaving her to join Ra's and Oliver on her own.
Oliver was still staring forward. Felicity wondered for a moment if he even knew she was there. Her gaze was drawn back to the fresh red mark that joined so many other signs of abuse on his beautiful body. She had never witnessed anything like this before and she hoped she never would again. Ra's addressed Felicity now, his attention on her.
"You may free him from his bonds, dear. That is your role. " Felicity found his term of endearment weirdly paternal and totally creepy, but nodded and rushed to Oliver's side. She carefully removed the chains from one wrist and lowered his heavy arm, grateful to be able to touch him and hopeful that feeling her hands would give him some comfort. She rushed to the other side and did the same to the other arm, rubbing her hands along his wrists to circulate his blood. The marks on them indicated that while Oliver had made no outward show, he had strained against them at some point, perhaps to distract himself from the pain.
Ra's cleared his throat, reclaiming Felicity's attention. "Examine the mark of the League upon your beloved." Felicity comprehended his order and moved in front of Oliver to get a close look at the brand. Its shape was unusual – some arcane symbol – and it made his skin pucker at its edges.
"You will never know his pain, but you will observe it and understand it. You will heal his wounds. You will minister to his needs. That is what is required. That is your role." Felicity nodded, looking up at Oliver, who only blinked.
"It is time for you to speak." Ra's voice cut through the quiet of the moment. Felicity looked at him. He motioned that she should lower her hood. She complied, but her hands were shaking. She was not a public speaker in the best of times and this was not a meeting of the Toastmasters. She looked over at Oliver and wondered still if he was even present, if he was going to hear what she was saying. She turned her back to the crowd and faced only him.
"Today, I dedicate my life to you, Al-Saheem." She swallowed hard. It was then that Oliver's head slowly dropped. His eyes met hers, creating a feeling of relief. A wave of emotion rolled over her as she drew closer to him. "My friend. My partner. My beloved. This bond I make transcends time." She could see him listening and knew her words were affecting him. "This bond I make defies pain. This bond I make vanquishes death." She looked deeply into his eyes, full of love and hope. "My body is your home. My breath is your breath from this day forward."
Oliver took her hand, his own pressing flat against it. He raised them both up in the manner of an oath. Felicity's back was still to the gathered crowd and she focused solely on the blue eyes looking deeply into hers. She held her breath.
"I am Al-Saheem. Today, I pledge my life to the League of Assassins and I dedicate myself to this woman, Manar." Felicity looked at him quizzically. She was getting a new name as well.
"My partner. My beloved." Oliver's gaze softened and she knew that he was present with her. She felt his love, despite the currently surreal situation. His hand was warm against hers and the pressure of them against each other felt intense. "This bond I make transcends time. This bond I make defies pain. This bond I make vanquishes death." That last word connected with her hard because it was so real. Oliver had died too many times already. He continued, "My body is your home. My breath is your breath from this day forward."
Felicity mouthed the words "I love you" for only him to see. Oliver wrapped his hand behind her neck and drew her close. His mouth crashed into hers in a display of heat and want that would be whispered about for days. Felicity felt it in her bones, moving one hand to stroke his hair and curling the other around his arm. When he finally pulled away, leaving her lungs breathless and her lips thoroughly assaulted, he whispered "Love you," before straightening up and returning to his stoic demeanor.
Felicity smiled. Then she heard the Demon's Head clear his throat. She pivoted around, feeling a little woozy, but a little cocky too. The words they had spoken were real. He was hers now and despite the physical danger that surrounded them, her heart felt safer than it had in a very long time.
Then, Ra's Al Ghul moved toward them and grasped Felicity's small hand with his stubby, callused fingers. She panicked a little, not knowing what he was doing. He produced a silver knife from an unseen pocket and handed it to Oliver. She could see a hint of torment in her lover's eyes as he nodded to Ra's. Oliver took the knife and addressed the delicate hand that Ra's was holding out to him. He made a small cut on the top, near her knuckles, just deep enough to draw noticeable blood. Felicity stifled a whimper, pressing her lips together. Felicity looked into Oliver's eyes and saw that he was troubled by what he had just done.
She cursed in an inner monologue. Of course these bastards would have to incorporate blood in the damned ceremony. Then Oliver raised her hand to his mouth and tasted her wound, all the while keeping eye contact with her. Felicity conceded that it was kind of sexy in a kinky "Twilight" kind of way and decided that while she never wanted to repeat that particular ritual, it was okay this one time.
Ra's reached out and an acolyte handed him a red robe, similar in color to Felicity's, but lacking a sash. He took it and presented it to her. She accepted it, wordlessly, and helped Oliver put it on, carefully trying to avoid contact with his inflamed flesh. She thought for a moment that it was rather cruel to make him wear anything right now, but recalling the current company they were keeping, she kind of understood it.
Felicity allowed herself a moment to consider that he looked handsome in red (even if it reminded her of Roy). Better in green. Sexy in black. Devastating in blue. This man made any color look good.
"And so it is done," Ra's announced. Felicity turned and looked at Ra's as he made a final nod and lowered his arms. Then she looked back at Oliver. That was it. Ceremony over. He looked down at her and pressed his hand to her back.
No applause. No cheering. The crowd quietly dispersed. "Come," Ra's ordered. The newly minted couple looked at him, then each other. They moved to trail behind their host, their captor, Oliver gripping her elbow securely. After a few moments, Felicity couldn't hold her curiosity or her tongue.
"Manar. What does it mean?" she asked.
Before Oliver could speak up, Ra's stated, "It means guiding light. Like a lighthouse."
Felicity looked up at Oliver and he beamed down at her. That was exactly right. Felicity took his hand and kissed it as they continued walking briskly.
"What happens next?" she asked as they moved down a corridor.
"Ah, the orgy," Ra's tossed off, like it was nothing. Felicity sighed at Ra's feeble attempt at humor while Oliver looked worried.
"He's just teasing," Felicity assured him.
"How do you know that?" Oliver murmured. Felicity shook her head.
Ra's finally stopped at a door. He spun around to face them.
"Here is your chamber. Rest. Tend your wounds. You will be collected in 30 minutes for dinner." He looked straight at Oliver, "30 minutes." This, apparently, bore repeating. He opened the door. The two rushed inside. OIiver slammed the door closed and leaned his back against it.
Felicity sprang toward him, desperately worried about the brand on his chest. "Oh my God, Oliver! I can't believe they did that to you." Her hands hovered above his skin. "Are you okay?" He responded by swallowing and looking at the ceiling.
"I would be lying if I said it didn't hurt like a motherfucker. Because it did. It's a little better now." Oliver panted a bit now, coming down from holding all of his emotions in check outside. Felicity noticed some ointment and bandages on a nearby table and pulled him over to join her there for some first aid.
"How did you get through it? I couldn't even watch."
"I went to what you would call my happy place for a while." Oliver dropped his forehead to meet hers. Felicity reached up with her cut hand and raked her fingertips against his stubble.
Oliver stopped her. He grasped her hand and examined the cut, which wasn't bleeding much now.
"Baby, I am so sorry I had to do that. You know I would never hurt you…"
"Oliver, it's okay," she touched his chest gently. "Almost stopped now. I should have known when they put us in red robes that there was going to be blood. I feel kind of dumb for not figuring it out earlier. When you think about it, it could have been much worse."
For the next few minutes, they traded salves and bandages. When they were finished, Oliver wrapped her in his arms. She was careful to avoid pressing against his tender skin.
"Thank you," he said quietly.
"I'm used to patching you up."
"I meant thank you for everything. For this. For loving me more than I could possibly…"
Felicity tilted her chin and kissed along his jaw. She rubbed her nose against his playfully and smiled.
He continued, "I want you to know that for me, what I said…I meant every word of it. Do you understand?" his eyes found hers, desperate to be understood.
"Yes. I meant it too, Oliver. I do love you." She felt his mouth on her again, this time soft and gentle. Like the best kisses, it evolved in intensity. Oliver's tongue slipped in and began to make demands. She was happy to comply. Feeling the heat rising, Felicity finally pulled away, gasping for breath.
"How much time do we have left?" she panted.
xxxXxxx
With some encouragement, I could be persuaded to post the next chapter, which picks up right where this one leaves off and gets very steamy. So, let me know.
I am also quiveringbunny on Tumblr.
