Oliver held back a deep moan as he sank into the steaming water in the tub. After living without warm water and certainty for years, a nice hot bath where he could lounge eyes closed was his guilty pleasure. Felicity often joked that he liked the water scalding hot because he could sit in the tub for hours without adding more hot water; she even began stationing bubble bath, candles, fake rose petals, and rubber duckies on the shelved edges of their tub. Oliver would never give her the satisfaction of knowing that he enjoyed the vanilla scented bubble bath the best, but he was sure she knew since a bottle was always stocked under the cabinets. He grabbed a wash cloth off one of the shelves, dipped it in the hot water, wrung it out, and, placing it over his face, sat back into the water with his arms braced along the edges of the tub. He took deep breaths and felt his shoulders finally begin to relax. Oliver loved the feel of the water slipping over his body, massaging away the tensions of the day.

"Mmmm, perhaps I should have insisted on our wedding night." Oliver sat up quickly and grabbed the short throwing knife hidden under the rose petals. The cloth fell into the water and Oliver looked to the counter where the voice had come from. He looked at the beautiful brunette perched on the white marble countertop with a mischievous smile the Cheshire cat would be proud of. Oliver took a deep breath and put the knife back in its hiding spot; if she intended to kill him, she would have done it already.

"Nyssa," he nodded his head, unamused that his bath time was interrupted.

"Beloved." Her eyes twinkled with satisfaction as she sat back against the mirror. Oliver watched her eyes roam over the exposed parts of his body and saw them linger on all of his scars and tattoos. She gave a slight nod, acknowledging his pain and suffering. Oliver noticed she wasn't in her usual League attire, instead she wore all black: a sweater that hung off her shoulders, tight pants that hugged her curves and disappeared beneath knee-high leather boots. By her attire, Oliver guessed she was more on personal business than a League mission.

"What are you doing here, Nyssa?" Oliver stood and wrapped a towel around his waist; he refused to let the water drain out, determined to finish whatever Nyssa wanted and return to his bath before the water was cold.

"A dutiful wife can't simply visit her husband." Oliver bit back a smile at her teasing tone.

"Nyssa." He glared, but without any true malice in them.

"Fine," she huffed in feigned insult and hopped off of the counter. "I came with good news and purpose; something I'm sure you'll be happy to hear of." She walked out of the bathroom and into the bedroom he shared with Felicity.

"And what would that be?" He crossed his arms over his chest as he followed her. She turned and her smile was back in place.

"You had best put clothes on, before I change my mind."

"Nyssa." He groaned in exasperation.

"Fine, fine, you take the fun out of teasing you." All evidence of joy and playfulness left her face. "I have found a way to release you from the bonds of our marriage." Oliver's eyes perked up. For a few months, Nyssa had been looking for a way to annul their marriage and keep both of them alive. Fidelity and commitment until death being bred into every member of the League, it was no surprise that the price for ending a sacred bond such as marriage would result in one of the members losing their life as a result of breaking the contract. Since Nyssa was technically no longer the Heir to the Demon or Wife to the Heir, she was no longer afforded any leeway within the League.

"I thought there wasn't a way." He looked at her slightly skeptical; he had no desire to have the League sicced on him again and Oliver refused to have Thea beg Malcolm for his life; she had enough to worry about as it was.

"A ceremony lost to time due to its rarity. Luckily, my father kept good journals over the decades…and many concubines who bore sons when his wives could not."

"What's the price?" Oliver asked skeptically.

"Does it matter?" Nyssa looked him in the eye and he thought he saw something akin to sadness in them. Oliver bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head. "Then let us be done with this." She spoke a few words then stopped. "On the upside, it will be a nice intimate little ceremony, just us, as husband and wife." Oliver saw that her joking tone didn't reach her eyes, but he kept his mouth shut.

Nyssa took his hand and pulled up her right sleeve. She began to whisper words in what he assumed was Arabic. He was a little mesmerized by how quickly the words flew over her tongue; she rarely seemed to breathe or pause between words, as if she had memorized them on her way from Nanda Parbat. Oliver wanted to ask her what she was saying, but didn't want to interrupt her. Soon her voice came to an end and she walked into the bathroom with determined strides. Oliver followed her. She searched the cabinets until she found a dark colored wash cloth then walked to the sink. She pulled out a sharp thin knife from her boot and took a deep breath before beginning to carve words into the inside of her forearm. Oliver grabbed her wrist to stop her.

"What are you doing?" He looked confused and grabbed the wash cloth she brought.

"What must be done. Let me finish." Her eyes glared into his own as she gritted back the pain of her self-mutilation. Oliver stood at a loss; yes he wanted to be free of his ties to Nyssa in order to marry Felicity guilt-free, but not at the cost of her inflicting pain on herself.

"Oliver, everything demands sacrifice. This is the lesser choice to death." She tried her best to reassure him. Feeling even more guilt rest on his shoulders, he released her wrist. Nyssa continued where she left off carving symbols and words into her skin. Blood dripped into the sink and Oliver reached under the cabinet to pull out a first aid kit and have antiseptic and bandages ready for her when she finished her task. Finally, she set down her blade and ran water over her arm. She inspected her work as Oliver soaked a cotton ball in hydrogen peroxide then gently grabbed her arm.

"This will probably sting a bit."

"I believe I have just proven that I am no weakling to pain." Her smile was gritted and forced. Oliver admired her strength for a moment then began to dab her fresh wound gently, blowing cold air to lessen the sting when he felt her tense.

"I had grabbed the darker cloth to keep blood from staining your bathroom." Oliver looked up at her but Nyssa turned away.

"Felicity keeps these in the house at all times, says they come in handy, especially when she paints her nails." He made a small joke to try to lighten the mood. Nyssa let a little smile claim her lips.

"It would seem she was right to be well prepared." Silence filled the space between them for a few moments while Oliver began to wrap gauze and a bandage around her arm. "This domicile life," Nyssa whispered as she looked around the room, noticing little trinkets strewn around. "It seems to suit you."

"It does." He answered and secured the bandage. Nyssa pulled her sleeve down over the bandage and waited as he cleaned her blade then handed it back to her. Once she had secreted it back into her boot, she knew she could no longer keep answers from his determined and probing stare.

"Ask." She prompted, eager to be done and leave.

"What do they mean?" Her eyebrow rose and lips pursed tauntingly. "The words on your arm." He elaborated.

Nyssa sighed before answering. "Roughly translated to the closest language, Arabic, it means 'Alkasarat Alssanadat,' 'bond breaker.'"

Oliver furrowed his eyebrows. "Given what I know about the League, I'm going to guess that is a mark of dishonor."

"It brands my spirit a disgrace so long as I am in this body, whether that be in this world, or the next."

"Don't I get one?" Oliver asked, angered that she wouldn't tell him of such a high price for a freedom that was more for their peace of mind than actual physical harm."

"You are not of the League." Nyssa turned and walked out of the bathroom. "Besides," she tossed her hair over her shoulder as she looked back at him. "When I claim my rightful position as Ra's al Ghul, the Lazarus pit will remove such a blemish. Enjoy your bath, former beloved. I can see myself out." She disappeared out the window Oliver just noticed was open. Oliver tossed the cotton balls into the trash can and tossed his towel onto the counter. He slipped back into the bath tub where the water was still warm enough to enjoy, but his peaceful mood had been shattered.