The harbinger- Oliver Queen FF (completed)

Part 14

Oliver turned to the door opening, Felicity entered with a piece of paper and a wooden box. The light from the fireplace illuminated her tear stained face. The both of them sat together, hugging, mourning the loss of a woman they loved so much. They looked at the wooden box, seeing sets of gold and silver jewelry but a small bag caught their eyes. They opened it, hearts dropping as they saw her jewelry, the rings, earrings, necklaces she wore everyday, in this little bag.

She always said that her jewelry was the only thing she had left of her family, and she didn't even die with that, how tragic. Oliver continued crying, at this point that's all he could do, that's all he had the power to do. All alone, all night long, he cried and his heart called out her name and his body yearned for her, with no satisfaction.

He spent the next few days rotting in her apartment, smelling her perfume and holding onto the clothes she left behind. He was inconsolable, a man who had lost the thing he held dearest.

He barely ate, barely drank, was barely alive. He suddenly woke up, remembering one detail, Roy. Did Roy even know Amira died? Probably, but how was he handling it. Oliver got out of the house, still tired and looking like hell, he roamed the streets like a zombie, until he reached Roy' house. He entered the door, finding the boy sitting down on the floor, with his back against the couch, he held his knees, burying his head down.

Oliver sat down next to him, as devastated as he was, he had to stay strong, for them. That's what she wanted, that's what she asked. He stroked Roy's head, offering him little comfort.

"It's okay Roy, she made peace with her death" Oliver explained.

"I didn't, we didn't, we won't. Oliver she was like my sister, the sister who bought me suits and made sure I had breakfast, she cared, for once, someone care about me Oliver, and now she's gone" Not a tear escaped Roy's eyes, but his voice was laced with sadness.

"We're still here, we still care. Amira asked me to take care of you, and I will"

"It was the League wasn't it? They killed her right?" Roy's sadness turned into anger. His jaw clenched

"Yes" Oliver stayed silent, he knew what Roy had on his mind, because he thought about the same thing, but it was a bad idea. Attacking the League in the name of revenge was straight suicide, and as much as he wanted to join her on the other side, he couldn't go against her wishes. "We can't Roy, we really can't".

"Why not? We need to avenge her", his voice got louder. He had too much in him, he needed to let it out

"No Roy, it's the League of Assassins we're talking about. Assassins, plural, many assassins, more than we can count and more than we can fight. We can barely fight one, let alone the entire league" his voice stayed low, monotone, he was too tired to argue

"But-"

"No Roy, I know you're mad, I know you miss her, but this is not what she wanted. She wanted us to continue living, and be happy and enjoy life. She didn't want us to kill ourselves to avenge her. Please Roy" Oliver's tone was hard, stern. He knew how hard headed Roy was and couldn't let him essentially kill himself.

They sat there in silence, getting comfort off of each other's company, until Oliver had to go home, he laid in what was once their bed. Smelling her scent on the bed sheets, he always loved the way she smelled like freshly picked flowers, like a blooming garden. A blooming garden that he won't get to access again.

Still laying in bed, he deeply sighed when the doorbell rang. Wondering who would come bother him. Oliver groaned as he pulled himself out of bed, going to open the door. Recognizing the person in front of him, his fight or flight activated, and he decided to fight.

He attempted to grab the man's neck, but being so weak, he could barely touch him before being pushed to the floor. The man invited himself in, walking to the kitchen and starting a pot of tea.

Oliver calmed down, inhaling the familiar smell of the tea Amira used to make him. "Merlyn" Oliver's raspy voice echoed in the room.

The suited man served him a cup of tea, guiding him to the couch. "How are you holding up? I know how hard it is to lose the love of your live".

Oliver drank the delicious tea, though it wasn't as good as the one she made him, it was good enough. "You and I are nothing alike Merlyn"

Merlyn sighed, drinking his tea, "I know you hate me, and you have every reason to, but Amira was also very dear to me. I have a duty to fulfil towards her, she asked me to make sure you were alright, and that's what I'm doing".

"She came to see you?" Oliver knew Amira and Malcom knew each other after their many years spent together in the league, but he didn't know they were close enough to the point where she would ask him for favors.

"A few days ago yes, she told me to take care of you after her departure, make sure you were eating and drinking well, and that you weren't beating yourself up over it. You couldn't have prevented it, she, of all people knew how much of a threat the League is, you can't fight them even if you tried your hardest" Merlyn explained, sipping on his tea.

"I still can't accept she's gone" Oliver's throat started hurting and he feared he was going to sob again.

"She'll still alive, in your heart and your memories, as long as you remember her, she'll never die"

Oliver hated Merlyn, but he needed that. "Can I have the recipe for the tea?", he asked, feeling ridiculous, but it was needed.

"She wrote it down for you, here" Malcom handed him a small piece of paper.

Oliver read the recipe, memorizing it, he chuckled, Amira had terrible handwriting in English, almost unreadable.

Merlyn left, not forgetting to make him some food. Oliver was once again left alone, feeling lighter, still heartbroken, but now the pain was a bit easier to handle.