Chapter 8: The Hood

After catching a falling Felicity and carrying her to her quarters, he was escorted back to the King's throne room and kneeled before the man, this time of his own accord. The man looked down at him with suspicion before speaking.

"You have sworn fealty to my daughter, and therefore her family. Thus you are now a soldier of my kingdom. However, because of your oath to my daughter, I will allow you to choose how you serve," Felicity's father said, rubbing his chin in thought. Al Sah-him considered the different options he found himself presented with.

Originally, he had simply planned on being something of a bodyguard for the princess, but he realized that the older man was correct. He had pledged his loyalty to the king of Starling's daughter which meant that he had to serve his new king. He mentally listed his best skills, coming up with something at the top.

"I am trained to be an assassin. I work best from the shadows and infiltration is what I do. I would be wasted as a soldier; I could do more in my learned trade than in a new one," he answered in all frankness. The king seemed to smile before he nodded.

"And your weapon of choice?" he inquired.

Al Sah-him, again Ardeth, smirked.

"A bow and arrow. I am well trained in use of many other weapons though, so a diverse arsenal is a good plan," he stated matter-of-factly. The king nodded and lifted his hand, motioning for him to rise.

"Very well, Ardeth, you will be the assassin of the crown. When you are not on a mission, your prerogative is to protect my daughter from harm. I will have the soldiers fit you with armor and show you the armory. I will send for you when it is time to be briefed for your first mission as an agent of Starling. For now, go check on your charge," the older man replied. He waved his hand in dismissal and Ardeth bowed deeply, crossing an arm over his chest before straightening to his full height and striding out of the throne room.

Despite having only walked to her quarters once, he had memorized the way there and hardly even thought about his destination until he reached her door. He intended to just barge in, but thought to knock in case Felicity was awake. Rapping lightly on the door to announce his presence, he turned the oval shaped silver doorknob and pushed inward. Looking inside, he saw a woman who looked about his age sitting on the edge of the bed.

Her head whipped around in his direction and she gasped at the sight of him. It was right about then that he realized how he looked. While someone had roped him into getting his hand disinfected and wrapped, he had been adamant that he keep an eye on the princess until he was again called to the king. Thus, the left side of his black shirt was still ripped away and his chest was visible, in all its bloody glory.

Literally.

It had coagulated a long time ago, forming an unnecessary scab on his chest. The smeared sun on his chest remained as well. He planned to visit a mark-man after his visit to the armory. Stepping into the room, he raised his hands to show he meant no harm. She relaxed and sat back down on the edge of the bed, but still swallowed.

"Excuse me; I am sorry if I startled you. How is she?" he asked, dropping his hands and pensively padding over to the bed so he wouldn't frighten the woman again. When he stood beside her, he crossed his arms over his chest and watched Felicity's face like a hawk.

"She's alright," the woman replied, "your antics just scared her senseless is all. She'll be on her feet in a few hours." Al Sah-him nodded and continued to watch his charge and considered the drastic turn his life had just taken. He overall was not fazed by the specifics of the deal, but he was more stunned at the fact that he had actually gone through with it. He had actually tied himself to Felicity for life.

He kept his expression stoic but inside he had no idea what to think of his actions. The best he could do was follow his new prerogatives, but also keep a slightly secret agenda of figuring out the mystery behind his father's death.

"So. Heard the story of how you two met. Pretty surprising that you stuck with her, considering you're an assassin with no loyalty," she said, her tone and words were both bold. He turned his head to look at her, an eyebrow raised quizzically as he leveled an irked stare at her. She matched his gaze for a moment before looking back at Felicity. "I'm surprised she didn't faint right off the bat."

He felt the part of him that was strangely protective of the young woman lying prone in the bed rise to the fore. He clenched his fists, accidentally digging his fingernails into the bandaged area of his right hand. He strangled the hiss that threatened to make itself known, and turned his eyes back to the Princess. After a moment of silence, a thought struck him.

"How do you know the princess?" he inquired, narrowing his eyes suspiciously at the woman. She too had turned her face back to Felicity and looked back up at him, her face starting to take on an annoyed appearance. He could tell that she was considering a witty or sarcastic answer before actually preparing a decent one.

"We grew up together. We weren't the best of friends, but we were close nonetheless," she informed him. Ardeth nodded and kept the few questions he could have about her past to himself. It was none of his business who she chose as her friends.

"What are you here for really?" she asked him in a tight clipped voice. Once again, he looked down at her, perplexed.

"I don't understand."

"Oh come on. An assassin? How could you come here and just blood pledge your loyalty to a woman you hardly know?"

"There is more honor in my oath to Felicity than you believe."

"Oh really?"

"Laurel," a voice came from the door causing both parties to turn around, "don't get into an argument with him on his first day, please?" A man walked in, his short hair dark with bits of white tossed in here and there. He ushered Ardeth out of the room quickly, seemingly much to the chagrin of the woman, apparently named "Laurel."

~oOo~

Three hours later, Al Sah-him was trying on yet another set of armor that just didn't fit right. Either the gear was wrong or the body suit. He growled in frustration as yet another of the leather and cotton suits made it difficult to perform even the most menial of tasks. He wondered if the sleeve would rip should he notch an arrow in his bowstring and pull it taught. The material was aggravating as well, specifically, it rubbed against the already irritated area around his brand new sun tattoo.

It had also proven to be an informative afternoon as well. He learned that the man escorting him, Captain Quentin Lance, was the head of the security and intelligence division for Starling, and he was also the man whose legs he had kicked out from under him and whose knife he had procured. He had apologized. The man said he wouldn't hold it against him in the field. That didn't mean, however, that they would be on kind speaking terms when within city limits.

Stalking out of the changing area once more, he discarded the unwanted armor on the pile that had grown since they had arrived. Looking at the many more he had to go, he sighed. Then he looked closer. That suit. He liked that suit. It was light and looked easy to move in, but it also looked durable.

Soon, he was digging through the racks of clothing, searching for the things he wanted, not caring that he would be leaving incomplete outfits behind. Oh well, another man's trash is another man's treasure, so someone was bound to like it.

Once everything was strapped on and comfortably in place, he walked out of the soldier's changing rooms. Captain Lance was leaning against the wall, looking half asleep until he heard Ardeth's approach. He straightened up and even he had to crack a smile at the new soldier's look. It was a combination of effective and menacing. Ardeth thought he'd done well.

"Nice. I don't remember that being in the closet."

"It wasn't. I improvised."

"I think you're the only one of us who could get away with that sort of thing. Put the hood up, it makes you look more dangerous."

"You're probably right."

Al Sah-him did as he was told and reached up to pull the forest green hood over his head. It was darker than the normal lush green that he usually donned. The small mask that covered his mouth hung around his neck so he pulled it up to complete the intimidating look. Captain Lance put his hands on his hips and gave him a no-nonsense smile.

He jerked his head in a gesture for Ardeth to follow him and the latter complied, striding leisurely a few steps behind his sort-of-friend. The long hallways that wound around beneath the throne room, though they were not totally underground and light still shone through a few well-placed windows, reminded him of the corridors he had often walked, played, run, and even fought in when he was much younger and still lived in Nanda Parbat. However, unlike his one-time home, this place was far less centered around war and killing. The Assassin peoples' lives all but revolved around those two subjects.

They reached the armory without him realizing in, and Captain Lance had to wave a hand in front of his face to snap him out of the little trance he had unwittingly put himself in. he couldn't keep acting like this. He was supposed to be a cocky and uncouth yet deadly dangerous and silent Third City assassin, not a scatterbrained schoolboy who was bemoaning his decision to leave his home.

"What's a matter Hood? You leave a light on in Nonda Parabt or something?" he looked up at him, a slight amused gleam in his dark eyes, but his face lined with the beginnings of a father's worry. Al-Sah-him screwed his face up and pulled the small mask down before lowering the hood as well. He shook his head slightly before answering the man.

"It's Nanda Parbat, and I'm not sure. I get the feeling that I did though. I had friends. I left them behind," he said, deciding it would be best to change the subject. "So, why are we stopped?" he asked, deflecting the Captain's next question before he even said it.

"We are at the armory. When you earn yourself some trust, I'll give you the code, but for now," he reached over and, fast as lightning, whipped the green shoulder cape over Al Sah-him's head. The younger man flailed beneath the sea of dark green fabric, fighting his way out of the makeshift distraction.

When he finally freed himself, he glared hard at Captain Lance who was now standing by the open armory door chuckling quietly to himself. Deciding to let Ardeth out a little bit, he growled, "You're fortunate we happen to be friends." Captain Lance turned and raised his hands in mock surrender as he ushered the young assassin inside the room.

It was small and square, but weapons lined every feasible bit of wall, shelf, and table space. It was smaller than the assassin armory, but dare he say it, they were just as creative as the assassins with their weapons. The typical swords and bows lined the walls, but there were also shurikans, darts, blowguns, heavyweight spears, staffs, arrows with various tips, and most importantly a quiver that could hold an arsenal of about twenty. Briefly, he looked back hesitantly toward Captain Lance, like a child waiting with bated breath for their parent's approval. The man nodded and gestured for him to knock himself out.

Acting more stoic than he felt, he wandered around the room, searching for weapons he could use. He grabbed some darts, placing them in the small compartments on his wrists and belt. He selected a pair of escrima sticks that could be screwed together to make a staff. He filled the black quiver with opaque black arrows, and other spots on his belt were loaded with shurikans of the same color. At least six throwing knives were housed in both his boot and leg holsters. He examined every compound bow until he found one that he deemed strong enough to suit him for the time being. It was brand new and not as well-worn or tailored as his other one, which he had mistakenly left behind in his room in Nanda Parbat. He decided he could modify it as he saw fit later on.

When he was done and armed to the teeth, he exited the room and followed Captain Lance back up to the main floors. The man said his goodbyes and that he needed to return to his duties. Ardeth replied in kind and pulled his hood up again and wandered off down the corridors once again to the Princess's room.

This time he didn't bother to knock, wondering if he would scare Laurel. He turned the knob and entered the room, seeing that the shades were still drawn and the woman was gone. However, the washcloth and small bowl of water remained on the nightstand. He looked around the darkened room for a place to sit, seeing none. He ambled over to the bed and sat down on the edge, the mattress creaking beneath him.

Felicity was still asleep, but she looked like she had moved around as her golden hair was out of place and had drifted across her pillow. Suddenly, she shifted and her brow scrunched up. She swallowed and sighed, her blue eyes cracking open. She blinked a few times and took in a deep breath, which she let out slowly, only to inhale it again in a sharp gasp when she saw him.

She kicked her feet out from under the soft sheets in her scramble to push her as far away from him as she could. He raised his hands in a placating gesture, trying to get her to calm down. He supposed that the hood didn't help at all, not to mention the fact that he was covered in lethal weapons from head to foot.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's me, Princess. It's me," he said quietly, slipping a finger under the mask and pulling it down while using his other hand to push his hood back. She relaxed noticeably when she saw his face, removing her fingers from the headboard and lowering herself exhaustedly to the pillows her head had rested on mere moments before. Just as she had relaxed, she set her jaw and before he realized what she was doing…

SMACK

His head was whipped to the side as the searing hot pain throbbed through his cheek. He reached a gloved hand up to rub his jaw.

"What was that for!?" he shouted in a hopefully non-threatening tone.

Felicity had blushed and slapped both her hands over her mouth in surprise at her own actions.

"Omigosh, I am so sorry! I can't believe I just did that!"

Then

"DON'T EVER DO THAT AGAIN, YOU ASSASSIN SON-OF-A-CROSSBOW!"

Al Sah-him knew what she meant. She was talking about earlier, before she fainted. The blood oath. Still, it took all he had not to grin at her mock insult.

"Calm down, Princess. I won't have to," he said calmly, trying to restore peace to the once-quiet room. She sighed and slumped in on herself, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. Remembering something, she stopped and her hands both shot out to grab his left which rested in his lap. She held it in her hand and examined the bandage, making sure that he hadn't bled out in the time she had been asleep. Al Sah-him couldn't help but smile at her mothering.

~oOo~

While she continued to check her friend's self-injured hand, Felicity's memories of the moments preceding her fainting spell slowly returned and lost their fuzziness.

"I, Ardeth of the Third city, swear that until the lasting sun, moon, and stars fall from the sky, until the last drop of my blood is poured out onto the ground, until my dying breath, I shall defend you. With this oath in blood, I swear to you my life and loyalty."

She couldn't believe he had done something like that. Of course, he probably did it as a last ditch effort to save his skin in the event that her father decided to execute him. She would have done anything she could have to prevent it but she wasn't sure she would have been able to convince her father otherwise. Often when he made a decision, the outcome was final.

She tried not to think about what could have happened, and instead get the scoop from the refugee himself.

"So, what exactly did I miss?" she asked, dropping his hand and scooting back toward her pillows once again so she could look at him a little better. He had, quite obviously, gotten a change of clothes since she had last seen him. He's picked up some weapons as well. I guess that's a good sign, she thought. Her father wouldn't have given Ardeth weapons if he didn't have some basis for trust in the man.

"Well, your father and I discussed what I am to do in my time here. Since I am not trusted yet, and I doubt I will ever be, I have been conscripted to serve the crown of Starling. At least until your father, or, in a less than savory situation, you, die. I explained that I would serve him best as an assassin and that I would be wasted as a foot soldier. He agreed and conceded that, when not on a mission, I am to watch after you as your personal bodyguard," he was summarizing, she could tell.

Felicity nodded. The plan was sound. It made sense that her father would want Ardeth to prove himself. However, she still had one question that nagged in the back of her mind.

"How long?" she asked.

"What do you mean?"

"How long does that blood oath keep you here?"

"Princess, I-"

"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT! YOU GAVE UP YOUR FREEDOM! YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE DONE THAT FOR ME OR FOR YOURSELF!"

"I DID IT BECAUSE-BECAUSE I WANT TO SEE THAT YOU'RE SAFE! I DON'T TRUST MY BROTHER! Now that he's lined up to become the Demon's Head, he could do anything."

Felicity felt her sudden rush of anger fade until all that was left was the exhausted feeling of adrenaline no longer flowing into her bloodstream. They had been doing a lot of yelling lately. At least, she had. Why was she so angry at him? Why did she care so much? Right now, she couldn't make heads or tails of her feelings towards the assassin sitting barely a meter away from her.

"I did it because I want to stay," Al Sah-him said quietly, his head turned away, "I have nowhere else to go. The rest of my family is quick to make decisions and without proper evidence for my side of the story, they will have sided with my brother. I have no one to turn to right now. You are the only person I can trust, Ta'er Al Sa-fer."

Felicity was suddenly struck with the full weight of his situation. She had, admittedly, not considered the full scale of his "crimes" but from the way he stared off into the middle distance, a mixture of emotions clouding his eyes, she knew he had hardly thought about anything else in their entire time together. Any distraction she may have brought would have been welcome and happily received.

Ta'er Al Sa-fer.

Bird of happiness.

Yellow bird of joy.

Felicity.

Intense happiness.

She understood the assassin nickname he had given her now. In his own silent and almost brooding way, he cared for her. Perhaps not as deeply as love, but this man was in desperate need of a friend. Embarrassed at her outburst, she blushed and turned away.

"Okay," she said, "I'll work with you on this. But first, you need to tell me one thing you think is important about you."

"My real name."

"Your real name? How many names do you have?"

"Just two, not including aliases. My birth name, my real name, is Oliver. Oliver Queen."

For a moment, Felicity had to stifle her laughter. Here was a big, tough assassin who had probably killed more people than she had ever met and his name was Oliver. She would have to ask him if anyone had ever called him "Ollie." But after a moment of looking at him a little more, she just replied:

"It suits you."

A/N: HI GUYS! Sorry again about the constantly late updates(does that count as updating on time if by time you mean three weeks after the original deadline?) Anyway, so this chapter showed Laurel and Detective Lance in their respective positions and, in case any of you are wondering about his appearance, I can only give you a guideline as to how the cape looks. Check out the Justice League 3000's Green Lantern and tell me what you think. Most people chose option 2 for the poll last time, and that is what I decided to go for anyway, so the next chapter will most likely be an abbreviation of "The Arrow Years" as I have dubbed them. See you all (hopefully) next Sunday! =)