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The Enemy of my Enemy is my Ally

Summary:

Mutual desires can make allies out of the most unusual suspects. And avians.

 

Update: final chapter of this story, tho' not necessarily of this Universe - cha15 up - 04-11-15 (Arrow-Muse(s) still going strong - yay!)

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: An Ending... and a Beginning

Summary:

The ending... and the beginning.

Chapter Text

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“It's Ra's' custom to leave behind the instrument of death, as a memorial to honor the fallen.”

Malcolm Merlyn set the blood-stained sword down on the cabinet-top, turned to face the room, the team standing there watching him in stunned and shattered silence.

“Oliver Queen is dead.”

“You need me.”

“Do you have a death-wish?” Diggle snapped.

Merlyn smiled. "Believe it or not, Diggle, there are worse things in this city than me. And you're about to meet all of them. Without Oliver. I can help you. You can help me. I suggest we put our petty differences aside in favor of mutual survival."

“I wouldn't call them petty...”

“Stop it! Both of you.” Merlyn merely quirked an eyebrow at Felicity's outburst, but Diggle subsided, reluctantly. “What proof do you have, Merlyn?”

“None that you would believe in, my little silicon blonde.” He gestured and a small round piece of mirrored-glass materialized out of thin air. At the sighs of disbelief, he snapped, “Oh, really – do you people ever pay attention to details? Names have meaning, have power. I am not called Merlyn for nothing.”

“Here. Here's your proof. The only kind I have for you. It's not like I was there in person to snap a video.”

“Like you did with Thea.” Felicity's voice, hard and angry.

“Let us not speak of the past, shall we? It's over and done, and what's far more important is what's in your future.”

“Watch.” And the glass grew foggy, then cleared to show a fight on a mountaintop, one that Felicity knew she had seen before, for all that was impossible.

She watched, horrified, as... almost, but so fatally not-quite, and Oliver died, in front of her, as she had known he had, for all she had prayed, had hoped, that it would be otherwise.

“What are those words?” was all she asked.

“A blessing for the dead, that they may rest easy. Turns out our Oliver managed to impress Ra's al Ghul. Not enough to spare his life, of course, but then you know how confining tradition can be.” He smiled at her in a way that left Felicity acutely aware of every one of the nearly five thousand years of the Judaic tradition.

“At least I have faith,” she retorted. “Whereas all I see from you is blood and death.”

“I have faith – in human nature, and in the best ways to exploit it.” He gestured again, and the mirrored-glass disappeared. “However, we waste time. Will you accept my offer? Or do you, too, covet death that much?”

“I'd like more proof that what you say is true. You don't exactly have the best track record with that around here.”

“Fine. Don't believe me. But don't come crying to me when the wolves are at your door.” He began to walk away, then turned back just before he got to the side-door leading to the courtyard. “Make no mistake – they are coming. Oliver left you to die – I won't. As I told him, this was my city first, and I have no desire to see it perish. That is the one thing on which we can all agree. The enemy of my enemy can be my ally. Remember that.”

He turned back, made a gesture, and the door opened. “You'll know how to find me, when you're ready.”

And he was gone.