Work Text:
May 15th, 2014
Nyssa's lips curl into a shark-like smirk as she watches the penthouse from an adjacent building, watching for any movement from inside. She's noted two men in the main lobby guarding the penthouse elevator, another three going in and out of the service entrance, and a patrol in the stairwell, but there's only one person on the penthouse floor. Nyssa is not sure if she's more amused or insulted because this is going to be so unbearably easy.
(Much easier than the family dinner she'd endured with the Lance family before she left Sara to say her goodbyes.)
(Nyssa's promised her beloved that she'll meet her at the cargo ship in three-hours, but in the mean time there's someone she needs to see.)
Nyssa pulls a trick arrow from her quiver (one that she stole from Oliver Queen for this very purpose because the League doesn't stock something as frivolous as trick arrows) and nocks the arrow before she releases, her smirk widening when the high-polymer cable catches at the end.
Frivolous it may be, but also convenient.
She attaches the cable to one of the concrete pillars on the roof and then she's sliding her bow over the top and pushing off into the night. Nyssa's riding boots barely make a sound as she drops onto the penthouse's balcony and then she's slipping in through the patio door. It's not even locked. The entirety of it all takes less than three minutes and that's when Nyssa is hit by how eerily silent it is.
Nyssa moves silently through the apartment, checking each room as she passes. There's a master suite, two more bedrooms and the bathroom, an office that's littered with broken computers and other pieces of tech that have been cannibalized for parts, and finally a state of the art kitchen (one that's all flawless white and pristine, top-of-the-line appliances) that's just off from the living room.
There's a flickering light in the living room, and Nyssa follows it. She finds a blonde curled up on a flawless blue-grey couch, tapping away on a tablet while the news plays on mute on the television that's mounted on the wall: the news anchor is detailing the damage that has been wrought on Starling City by Slade Wilson and his army of mirakuru soldiers, estimating the dollars worth of damage and the numbers of lives lost.
"You know, I really hope you left the window intact this time." The blonde huffs as she turns her head to see Nyssa, lips pursed and an eyebrow raised. "The hotel in Dubai did bill me the last time you decided to drop in unannounced."
Nyssa arches her own eyebrow. "If my presence vexes you so much, perhaps you should look into improving your security."
Blue eyes narrow at the insinuation that she needs security to defend herself, and she tips her head to the side. "What do you want, Nyssa?"
Nyssa's face breaks out into an uncharacteristically wide smile, and the words tumble from her lips of their own accord, "You and your father, dead at my feet."
She doesn't react to Nyssa's taunting, instead vibrant pink lips widen into a smile that is as radiant as the sun. Felicity Darhk (there was a time she was known by another name, but there is no point in dwelling on the past because Felicity Smoak never existed, not really, and now the name is simply a reminder of a woman Felicity can barely remember, one with bright blonde hair and a constant, wide smile) lays her tablet off to the side and climbs to her feet.
Felicity looks so unbearably normal in her black jeans and flats and over-sized khaki-colored sweater, with nails painted a steely while her mouth is a vibrant pink, while her blonde hair falls around her face in loose curls, but Nyssa knows better. She knows better than to underestimate the woman in front of her.
Felicity is smart beyond measure and proficient with a variety of weapons, knives especially, and her skill in hand-to-hand combat rival that of Nyssa's. Their father had been conscripted into the League together and then molded into warriors the likes the world had never seen, and in turn they have both trained their daughters, their heirs, in their image. Nyssa holds no illusions when it comes to Damien Darhk. She is fully aware that, while her father may be the Demon, Felicity's father is the devil.
Damien Darhk is elusive, well-connected, and incredibly intelligent.
He is also the most bitter enemy of Ra's al Ghul. Darhk has vexed Nyssa's father for years (the water from the Lazarus Pit giving both men unnaturally long lives, and as a result their rivalry has spanned both continents and centuries) and that means that Nyssa should want Felicity's head on a pike right beside that of her father's.
"I opened a bottle of Lafite Rothschild 1982 earlier," Felicity says, shrugging. "Would you care for a glass?"
But somehow, someway, Felicity Darhk is her friend.
Felicity's one of the few people in existence that understands Nyssa and the life she was born into.
Nyssa's lips quirk in mirth because Felicity loves wine, especially red. "If it would please you," Nyssa shrugs.
Felicity rolls her eyes in a mixture of amusement and exasperation as she walks towards the kitchen, and Nyssa is helpless against her own amusement.
Not many people feel comfortable enough to be at ease around Nyssa, daughter of Ra's al Ghul, Heir to the Demon. In fact, Sara is the only other person Nyssa has ever met that doesn't look at her with the fear and apprehension Nyssa's title as Heir to the Demon earns.
Nyssa follows Felicity into the kitchen, drapes her bow and black blazer over the counter, leaving her in a blood red form-fitting dress and leather riding boots as she slides onto one of the bar stools that line one side of the island. The kitchen is state of the art and surely every professional chef's dream, but Nyssa knows that if she were to look in the fridge all she would find are various take-out containers.
Felicity can't cook. She's never had the need to learn, Nyssa knows.
Damien Darhk demands a certain level of refinement and, even in hiding, he cannot resist extravagance.
Damien Darhk is in possession of numerous properties and villas all around the world and, through their talks over the years, Nyssa knows that Felicity spent most of her adolescence living in her father's Tuscan Villa. Even now she knows that Felicity tends to stick to European countries over the United States. (It holds too many memories, Nyssa suspects, of a life that could of been and a mother she barely remembers.)
Which begs to question: why is Felicity here now.
"I would have thought you'd leave Starling City after your father's fruitless attempt to purchase Malcolm Merlyn's earthquake generator." Nyssa says conversationally, but subtly has never been her strong suit and she does have a point because it's been months since the Arrow stopped Ben Turner from stealing a prototype of the earthquake device out of the Merlyn Mansion. "It is not like you to stay in one place for so long, Felicity," Nyssa adds.
Felicity stills.
Nyssa watches her. Waiting.
Felicity's lips curve into a smile, but it's cautious. "And it's not like you to beat around the bush, Nyssa. You know why I'm here."
Nyssa lifts an eyebrow, an action that Felicity copies, and then she nods. It's true, she does know why. "Your mother," Nyssa says.
Klosterneuburg, Austria [2008]
Nyssa is nearly twenty-three the first time she seeks out Felicity, curious about the woman who is her rival.
"I am Nyssa, daughter of Ra's al Ghul," Nyssa introduces, lips quirked into a smile she notices the way the then-brunette (Felicity's hair is so dark it nearly looks black, with strands of purple mixed throughout that perfectly match the purple lipstick that paints her lips) imperceptibly moves her weight to the balls of her feet and prepares to pounce.
It appear Damien Darhk's daughter is as delusional as he is, believing her father to be the rightful Ra's al Ghul when it's Nyssa's father that holds the mantle of Demon's Head.
"Heir to the Demon," Nyssa adds.
But the brunette doesn't pounce, merely tilts her chin in an act of defiance as she answers, "Felicity Darhk, IST Austria class of '09."
Nyssa's pale, chapped lips curve into an amused smile because it's so incongruous to her, that Damien Darhk's daughter does something as ordinary as attend university at The Institute of Science and Technology in Austria. "Oh," Nyssa practically purrs, "I think we both know you're more than that, Miss Darhk."
Felicity purses her lips, her head tipped to the side. "I suppose you're right, I'm also starved." Felicity announces and her mouth curves into a vibrant smile when Nyssa's eyes widen in surprise. "You wouldn't believe the appetite you work up when you're resisting the urge to put your incompetent professor's head through a wall."
Nyssa blinks. "No, I suppose I would not."
Felicity visibly brightens. "There's a diner near here that serves a pretty mean milkshake. It's not as good as the ones I used to get home--in Vegas," She corrects hastily, pained eyes incredibly blue before she hides her emotion behind a facade. "But they're not bad. It's taken me years to find a place that makes a decent black and white milkshake."
Nyssa isn't sure what she expected when she went in search of Damien Darhk's daughter, but it definitely wasn't this. "What is a black and white milkshake?"
"How about you join me and see for yourself? And, if afterwards, you still want to bring my head back to your father on a silver platter, you can try." Felicity's voice is confident and arrogant (surely traits that she has picked up from her father over the years, if the stories Nyssa's father have told her are true) but Nyssa finds herself agreeing anyways.
She doesn't bring Felicity's head back to her father on a platter, but they do spar, and Nyssa learns that Felicity is quite good. Not that she expected any less.
Afterwards, Felicity beams at Nyssa, her chest heaving as she struggles to catch her breath. "Do you crave dim sum after fisticuffs, or is that just me?"
Nyssa snorts, somehow making it sound refined, her head between her knees as she too tries to catch her breath. "What is this obsession with food?" Nyssa asks, baffled, her brows furrowed as she looks up at Felicity.
Felicity rolls her eyes (an action that Nyssa will become familiar with over the years) and the two do them do order dumplings for two.
It's so bizarre that Nyssa almost envies that Felicity's life allows her the chance to have some semblance of a "normal" life. Nyssa's idea of normal has always been a world where only the strong survive, but then Felicity turns the conversation to the hours of training and their fathers' consuming need to destroy the other and vague memories of a mother she barely remembers, and Nyssa realizes they're not all that different after all.
Nyssa never thought she'd find someone who would understand.
Never thought she ever could.
Without speaking, Felicity drops her gaze to stare at her hands. She was seven the last time she saw her mother.
Donna Smoak had read two chapters of The Princess Bride to her only child before she left for her late shift at the casino where she worked, and a couple of hours later Felicity's father had woken her and a claimed that the two of them were going on an adventure. "An adventure just for the two of us, my jewel," Damien had smiled, tucking then-dark curls behind his daughter's ear.
Felicity can barely remember Donna, doesn't remember much more than blonde hair and blue eyes and the brightest smile she's ever seen.
And grilled cheese sandwiches.
Donna couldn't cook, could probably find a way to burn water, but she always took the day off from work when Felicity was sick and then she'd make her daughter homemade tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches before they curled up under a wool blanket and read either The Hobbit or The Princess Bride until Felicity feel asleep, curled into her mother's side.
(Even now, when she finds herself struggling to remember her mother, Felicity breaks out her well-loved copy of The Hobbit.)
"It wasn't hard to put together," Nyssa says quietly. "Damien Smoak is the alias your father was using the last time my father caught his trail."
Felicity has already connected the dots. She watches as Nyssa connects them herself and accept the implications that come with the truth.
Ra's al Ghul last found Damien Darhk in Las Vegas, living in a small two-bedroom house with his wife and daughter. He'd reminded Damien of a time many lifetimes ago when he had left his family without a farewell (the woman he'd loved immeasurably as well as their two children, a son and a daughter) and had given the man he once viewed as brother the opportunity that had once been denied to him: a chance to say goodbye.
But Damien decided to take Felicity with him instead, leaving his wife to endure an agony worse than death.
"And then, earlier tonight, Ta-er Al-Sahfer invited me to a family dinner. It was a sordid affair with take-out from a place called Big Belly, but it was important to Sara." Nyssa continues and, if she doesn't mention that the reason the dinner was important to her beloved is because Sara will be leaving Starling City with Nyssa and the League, she doesn't really have to because the League doesn't offer their services for free—even when it comes to the likes of Slade Wilson. "Her entire family was there," Nyssa adds, "Including her stepmother."
Felicity doesn't look up.
"Felicity."
She purses her lips to keep them from trembling.
"Look at me, please."
Felicity does as Nyssa asks.
She first came to Starling City months ago when her father tried to buy a prototype of the earthquake device Malcolm Merlyn used to level the Glades, and she had stumbled across both the Arrow and Detective Lance. Denial had been her initial reaction when she'd first come across the detective and his second wife, but the truth has since settled in Felicity's heart and she can no longer deny that her mother has moved on with her life.
Once her hands had stopped shaking, Felicity had scoured the internet for information on Donna Smoak.
She could have done it at any time (if it's online, she can find it) but fear had always stopped her.
Felicity learned that, after she came home to find her husband and child both gone, Donna Smoak had lost herself in men, alcohol and debt. She'd worked 60-hour weeks in six-inch heels for tips and she'd spent every penny she earned looking for Felicity. But, eventually, Donna put her life back together. She started taking classes at a local college and eventually climbed the ladder from cocktail waitress to assistant manager to manager. Then, when the casino where she worked expanded into a chair and that expansion led to a new casino opening 1,000 miles away in Starling City, Donna made the move and met Detective Quentin Lance.
"I guess this makes Sara—your Sara— and I sisters." Felicity notes. "Does that make us family?"
Felicity's voice cracks and her eyes flicker away from Nyssa's face, but before they do Nyssa notices just how sad and haunted Felicity's blue, blue eyes truly are and she wonders how many more lives will be ruined because of their fathers' relentless need to destroy the other.
But Nyssa ignores the question, "She still goes by Donna Smoak, Felicity."
"The good detective must love that," Felicity snarks, an old defense mechanism.
"She said it's so her daughter will be able to find her," Nyssa continues. "She still has hope."
"No, what she has is a fantasy." Felicity refutes firmly. "The girl she remembers doesn't exist anymore."
Felicity's face is laid bare for a brief moment, and Nyssa's expression softens. "She will love you regardless, Котёнок. She is your mother."
Felicity drains her glass of wine before refilling it. "Love is irrelevant, Nyssa." She says bitterly, eyes flickering to Nyssa's face. "For people like us, love is a bullet to the brain."