The conclusion to Once and Forever Queen
Description: Oliver and Felicity are blissfully married, but Felicity’s father, Damien Darhk, is back and bent on revenge. His plan has unexpected consequences and forces Oliver and Laurel to finally confront their past. Meanwhile, Thea’s grip on her sanity begins to slip and Felicity struggles with a secret she’s keeping from Oliver.
It’s not necessary to read Once and Forever Queen first, but it would be helpful. I will be posting this fic chapter by chapter. Special thank you to @hotcookinmama for your editing genius and @callistawolf for being my sounding board for ideas!
Archive of Our Own link
***Music I listened to while writing the story
Chapter 1 (of 11)
***Lost Boy by Ruth B
The Queen property was large and expansive, spreading from the tailored, impeccably kept lawn to the forest behind the massive mansion. The wind slipped through the high canopy of trees and lifted them high. Then it let go with just as much ease. The branches drifted down and then the breeze would begin again. The sunlight skipped along the top of the forest. The slants of light peeked through the open air between the mangled twist of the branches. It created a kaleidoscope of colors on the ground like walking through a rainbow. Children’s laughter echoed throughout the woods.
Tommy and Oliver, adventurous ten years olds, tossed a football between them, as Laurel lagged behind. She painstakingly inspected every tree, completely focused in her task.
“Ha! Touchdown!” Oliver shouted triumphantly.
“Only because I’m fast enough to catch your crap throws,” Tommy countered.
Oliver scoffed and said, “You wish.”
“You wish you were as fast as me,” Tommy taunted.
“Race you to that tree,” Oliver challenged.
“You’re on!” Tommy accepted. Laurel looked up from her inspection completely exasperated with the boys.
“Come on you guys, you said you’d help.”
“We are helping,” Oliver answered distractedly as he tossed the football to Tommy who effortlessly caught it.
“Playing football is not helping, Ollie,” Laurel complained. “We need at least six different species of mushrooms for this science project, and I’ve only found three.”
“Right. You said we needed to look in the woods. I provided the woods. I helped,” Ollie argued triumphantly, raising his hands towards the forest around them, a little prince in his kingdom.
Tommy tossed the football back at Oliver hard, landing it squarely in his stomach. He caught it with an “oof” and gave Tommy a wry look. Laurel giggled.
“Let’s split up. It’ll get done faster,” Tommy offered.
Oliver opened his mouth to argue again, but Tommy quickly added, “Mrs. Frasier is close to busting us, Ollie. Laurel’s done most of the work on the last three projects - “
“All. I’ve done all the work,” Laurel corrected.
“Okay, all. Whatever. Frasier is starting to suspect. I can’t flunk this… my dad will kill me.”
This silenced Oliver, and Laurel triumphantly handed out photos of the assigned mushrooms . The boys begrudgingly took them, and Laurel scampered off deeper into the forest, calling out instructions as she went.
“Make sure to note the location of where you found it!”
Tommy muttered to Oliver, “She’s such a pain. Why do you always bring her along?”
Oliver shrugged, “Because she does all the work.”
Unable to argue with his logic, Tommy set about his task. For several minutes the forest fell silent as each child searched. Then, suddenly, the sound of a blood curdling scream deep in the forest ripped apart the tranquility. Tommy and Oliver looked at one another alarmed. Without a word, they took off in the direction of the scream.
“Laurel?” Oliver yelled.
“Here! Ollie! Here! I fell!” Laurel tearfully cried out.
Oliver and Tommy scanned the woods and followed the sound of Laurel’s voice. They came upon an opening to an old cavern, shabbily & hastily nailed shut with planks of wood. The boys bent down and peered inside. Laurel was several feet down, clutching her arm. Her forehead was bleeding and her arm was badly scraped.
“Here! Grab my arm!” Oliver commanded, reaching down.
Laurel tentatively stood and reached up, but Oliver was too high. She shook her head and said, “I can’t reach. My arm hurts. I think it might be broken.”
Tommy looked at Oliver gravely and said, “Go get your dad, Ollie.”
Oliver shook his head and said, “No. You go. I’ll stay with her.”
Tommy argued back, “No. You’re faster. I’ll stay.”
Without another word, Oliver took off in a dead sprint. The inside of the cavern was dark and cold. Laurel began to softly cry.
“Don’t cry Laurel. Ollie will be back with Mr. Queen any minute,” Tommy offered gently.
Laurel took a deep breath and tried to calm herself, but when she looked back at the opening Tommy was gone. Panic immediately seized her, and she cried out, “Tommy? Where are you? Don’t leave!”
Suddenly a rope plopped down along the shorter end of the cavern hole. Tommy called out, “Can you climb it?”
“No! I told you my arm is broken!” Laurel shouted back frustrated.
Tommy began to slowly climb down the rope.
“Tommy! What are you doing?” Laurel cried out in alarm.
Tommy silently offered Laurel his hand, but their fingers only brushed. Laurel expected Tommy to climb back up when it was apparent he wouldn’t be able to pull her. Instead, he did just the opposite. Tommy released his grip on the rope and fell with a thud to the bottom of the cavern, only a few feet from Laurel.
“Ow,” he grimaced as he rubbed his backside.
“Are you crazy? You can’t reach the rope from down here, dummy. Now we’re both stuck!” Laurel shouted angrily.
Tommy shrugged, brushed himself off and sat down, making himself comfortable. He said, “So, we’ll be stuck together. Okay?”
Realization dawned on Laurel. She softly replied, “Okay,” and sat down next to Tommy. They sat in an easy silence, comforted in one another’s presence. Soon Oliver arrived with Mr. Queen. Robert Queen’s height and strength allowed him to easily navigate the cavern. He lowered himself down and scooped Laurel up in his arms.
“Hold on, sweetheart,” Robert whispered. His voice was soft and reassuring, but his low, deep register boomed throughout the cavern. Laurel wrapped her good arm tightly around Robert’s neck and buried her head into his chest. His scratchy beard tickled the top of her forehead. As they climbed, Laurel peeked over Robert’s shoulder. The sunlight grew brighter and brighter until it almost blinded her. She finally looked back down at Tommy, but he was gone. Completely vanished… as if he was never there.
Laurel reached towards the darkness below and cried out, “Where’s Tommy? Don’t leave Tommy!”
The sound of her own cries awoke Laurel from her dream with a start. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. It was before dawn, and it took her eyes a minute to adjust to the dark. Then, she realized she was in her own bed, covered in sweat, her heart racing and gasping for breath. The memory from her childhood, recalled so clearly in the dream, intermixed with the returning knowledge that Tommy was dead. Gone… forever.
Laurel knew sleep would be impossible, so with a deep sigh she rolled out of bed to begin the day. The air conditioning bristled against her wet skin and Laurel shivered. She stepped into the shower, desperate to warm up, but she knew the cold feeling deep inside her gut would be with her all day.
***My Demons by Starset
The only sound in the Arrow bunker was the click of Oliver and Thea’s bamboo sticks as they sparred. Thea swung hard at Oliver, a fury in her movements. Oliver’s torso shifted back with ease. The stick narrowly missed him, which only served to anger Thea more.
“Control your breathing Thea,” Oliver commanded as he met her strike for strike.
Thea ignored him and only quickened her pace more. Their fluid movement become almost frenetic as Oliver matched Thea’s speed. Oliver swung over Thea’s head, and she ducked but then spun and moved to strike. Oliver was prepared for her, however, and blocked her stick with his own from behind. As Oliver turned, Thea froze. She spotted Moira over Oliver’s shoulder, standing a few feet away, watching them with a blank stare. Oliver didn’t hesitate to capitalize on the opening. He bent down and swiped one of his bamboo sticks at Thea’s knees, knocking her legs out from underneath her. Thea hit the mat with a loud thud.
“Ow,” She grimaced.
“You lost focus,” Oliver explained.
“You don’t need to point that out you know. Knocking me on my ass did that just fine,” Thea answered irritated. Oliver leaned down and offered her his hand. Thea softened and took it as Oliver hoisted her back onto her feet in one motion.
“What happened? Where’d you go?” Oliver asked.
***Running Up That Hill by Placebo
Thea hesitated and looked over his shoulder again. Moira was gone. Thea shook her head a little and answered, “Nowhere. I just didn’t sleep well last night.”
Oliver’s brow furrowed in worry. “Is that all? Any headaches?”
Moira appeared again. She reached out to smooth a piece of Thea’s hair behind her. She whispered gently, “You can’t tell him sweetheart. He wouldn’t understand.”
As Moira spoke, hundreds of invisible, whispering voices echoed all around Thea.
“Silence…”
“We need more.”
“There’s no end.”
“Blood for blood.”
The swirling sounds were overwhelming and Thea struggled to maintain her focus. She closed her eyes for a moment and breathed deeply. When she opened them, Moira and the voices were gone, but she could feel her head begin to throb.
“No,” Thea lied. She chugged a bottle of water to avoid Oliver’s gaze, but her hands were shaking ever so slightly.
Concerned Oliver asked, “Have you been meditating? Maybe we should -”
“Ollie! Will you relax? I didn’t sleep well. That’s all. We don’t need to play 20 Questions. I’m meditating. I’m fine,” Thea argued.
Satisfied, Oliver dropped it. Captain Lance entered the bunker, with a file in his hand.
“Queen, we need to talk,” Lance said grimly.
“Here I thought Ollie was the only person who worked this early,” Thea said dryly, tossing Oliver a wry look.
“What’s up, Captain?” Oliver asked.
Lance dropped the file down on Felicity’s desk. “Got a strange case, and I think it needs a fresh pair of eyes. This is off the books.”
“Of course,” Oliver said.
“Murder rate has taken an uptick, and that’s sayin’ somethin’ for Star City. At first, I didn’t think there was any connection. It seemed completely sporadic, but when I took a second look… there’s a pattern.”
Oliver flipped open the file and began to read. Captain Lance continued, “Every two to three weeks there’s a spike in homicides. Then there’s a lull. At first, the gap was as long as a couple months, but now this perp is escalating.”
“These victims were killed in a lot of different ways: strangulation, sliced throat, stabbing. There’s no singular method, but you think it’s a singular killer?” Oliver asked, unconvinced.
Captain Lance answered flatly, “Call it a hunch. Take a look at the victim list.”
Oliver peered closer and immediately recognized a few names. He raised his eyebrows in surprise and said, “These are all criminals.”
“Seems someone is finding a more permanent solution to Star City’s crime problem,” Lance said, staring coldly at Oliver.
“This wasn’t me or anyone on my team, ” Oliver answered defensively, crossing his arms.
“Yeah, I know that. You’ve changed your ways, but this is a vigilante for sure, which puts it in your jurisdiction.”
“We’ll look into it,” Oliver said.
“Why?” Moira said, appearing suddenly. Her voice startled Thea, and she turned to look at her mother. Moira sauntered over and reviewed the file over Captain Lance’s shoulder, a bemused expression on her face.
“A drug dealer. A serial rapist. They seriously consider these people victims?” Moira sneered.
She stepped toward Oliver and brushed her hand softly down the side of his face, but Oliver didn’t react. He simply kept talking with Captain Lance. Moira looked coldly at Thea and said, “Seems to me they got what they deserved.”
The chanting began again, only louder and more insistent.
“We need more.”
“There’s no end.”
“Blood for blood.”
“ENOUGH!” Thea yelled loudly. She closed her eyes and covered her ears with her hands to block out the noise.
Oliver and Captain Lance abruptly stopped speaking. Thea opened her eyes and saw Oliver and Captain Lance staring at her in shock.
“Thea?” Oliver asked, furrowing his brow in concern.
Thea chuckled uncomfortably and awkwardly explained, “Sorry. Didn’t realize I said that out loud. I’ve had the same song on repeat in my head. It’s driving me nuts.”
“Okay,” Oliver slowly said, accepting Thea’s answer with some hesitation. He looked at Captain Lance and said, “If there’s another player out there, we’ll find them.”
“Good. That’s for you,” Lance said pointing to the file.
“I’ll have Felicity review it. She may be able to dig a little deeper on those patterns you mentioned.”
Thea gathered her stuff. “Yeah, I gotta get to the club, but fill me in tonight okay Ollie?” she said as she hurried out the door.
Lance watched her go and gave Oliver a sidelong glance as he said, “You’re starting to look like the normal sibling Queen. Maybe you should look into that.”
Oliver stared after Thea and answered softly, “Maybe I should.”
***Here, Now by Andrew Simple
Oliver returned back to the loft to shower and change into his business suit. After Jessica Danforth’s daughter was threatened, she dropped out of the mayoral race. Oliver, confident in his ability to protect himself, chose to step up and ran in her place. Oliver had given Jessica the cogeneration project as a platform to run on, so staying with that, he won the election in a landslide victory.
Oliver smiled to himself as he remembered Felicity’s early wedding present - changing the name of her company from Palmer Technologies to Queen Inc. Her love and generosity never ceased to amaze him. Thanks to Felicity’s support, Queen Inc. began to anonymously donate their excess energy for free to The Glades. His first act as mayor was a huge success and Oliver wanted to use his sky-high popularity to push through Captain Lance’s request for a larger police force. He had an early morning meeting with the city council, and he was already running late.
As Oliver stepped into the bedroom, he was surprised to see Felicity still sleeping. Typically, he’d use this opportunity to wake her and start the morning off right, but something stopped him. The truth was, Felicity seemed tired a lot lately, and Oliver decided she needed the rest. He showered quickly and dressed quietly, leaving Felicity to her slumber.
As Oliver fixed himself an omelet, however, Felicity stumbled into the kitchen. She was still dressed in her pajamas, a light blue tank top that brought out the color of her eyes and polka-dot shorts with a hint of a lace trim along the edge. The rumpled tank top exposed Felicity’s toned stomach down to her hip bone. Oliver let his eyes drift over her and silently cursed his morning meeting.
“I overslept,” Felicity grumbled as she flopped down on the bar stool. “Why didn’t you wake me?”
“So you’d oversleep,” Oliver answered. “You’ve been exhausted lately.”
“No I haven’t!” Felicity argued. Oliver gave her a pointed look, and she relented, “Okay… maybe a little bit.”
“Omelet?” Oliver offered, but froze when Felicity seemed to turn green before his eyes. She leapt from the chair and into the bathroom. At the sound of Felicity throwing up, Oliver whispered, “Guess not.”
He stood outside the bathroom and gently knocked on the bathroom door.
“Felicity? Are you okay,” Oliver asked, concern etching his voice.
All he heard in response was grumbled moans, so Oliver promptly opened the door. Felicity was slumped on the floor looking absolutely miserable.
“Ugh, stay away. You don’t want to see this,” Felicity moaned.
Oliver bent down and wrapped Felicity’s arm around his neck.
“In sickness and health, remember?” He softly whispered as he lifted her up into his arms.
“Maybe it was the sushi,” Felicity wondered as Oliver carried her back upstairs.
“Well whatever it is, you’re taking the day and night off,” Oliver ordered as he laid Felicity down in the bed.
“But I have meetings! And the team –”
“The meetings will have to be rescheduled, and the team will be just fine,” Oliver countered. Off Felicity’s skeptical look he added, “For a night.”
He pulled the covers over her and gently kissed her forehead, “Sleep. I’ll come back for lunch to make you some soup.”
“That’s sweet honey, but I can manage.”
Oliver gave her a skeptical look and asked, “Felicity… can you make soup?”
Felicity hesitated, and Oliver nodded, “Right. So I’ll be back at lunchtime.”
“You’re making a fuss, you know,” Felicity said exasperated.
“I’m your husband. I get to make a fuss,” Oliver answered with a wink.
Felicity smiled back at him and said, “I love you.”
“I love you too. I’ll see you later,” Oliver said, and he headed downstairs.
She listened to Oliver bustle around the kitchen a bit, but then Felicity heard the distinctive click of the door as he left.
***We’re All Scared by Tara Simmons
Felicity snuggled into bed and closed her eyes. She laid there for a moment, in peaceful rest, but unable to sleep. Oliver’s comment about the frequency of her exhaustion was nagging at her. Felicity tried to remember the last time she felt… normal.
Suddenly, her eyes flew open. Felicity abruptly sat up and grabbed her phone, opening her calendar. She scanned it quickly and then threw herself out of bed. Felicity piled her hair into a messy bun, grabbed a long overcoat and tossed on some flip flops as she hurried out the door.
She returned shortly carrying a small plastic bag from the drugstore down the street. Felicity slipped into the bathroom, trying to fight the panic welling inside of her. She pulled the pregnancy test from bag and took a deep breath. A constant, repetitive voice in her head said:
Never late. Never late. Never late. Never late.
She was overreacting. She was sure of it. It was probably just stress. Still, better safe than sorry. Felicity took the stick from the box and momentarily marveled that despite countless scientific advancements, humanity had yet to find a better method for determining pregnancy than peeing on a stick.
After waiting what seemed like the longest three minutes of her life, Felicity picked up the stick.
Positive.
Felicity sank to the floor, her back against the bathroom wall, and whispered, “Frack.”
***Seven Devils by Florence and The Machine
Oliver, Diggle, Laurel and Thea cautiously walked down a darkened alley. The pavement was slick from a storm earlier in the day, but even the rain couldn’t wash away the stench of death. This was the scene of the most recent murder, Carl Draper, the serial rapist. Laurel, dressed as Black Canary, scanned the alley quickly.
“There’s nothing here,” she said impatiently. “Any evidence was collected and whatever wasn’t has been washed away by the storm by now.”
“Draper was killed three weeks ago. The killer has been escalating his or her time frame. Whoever killed Draper will strike again and soon,” Oliver answered.
“ Are we sure Draper was even killed here? The body could have been dumped,” Thea offered.
Oliver scanned the brick wall carefully and ran his fingers along the wall. There were scratch marks going up and down the wall.
“He was killed here,” Oliver answered softly.
Moira appeared next to Thea and smirked silently. She leaned up against the wall and crossed her arms nonchalantly. Then, Moira turned her head towards Thea at a crooked and sickening angle. Her eyes were rolled into the back of her head and when she spoke it was no longer the voice of her mother, but whispers of thousands of unseen and unknown voices.
“Blood for blood.”
Thea gasped when she saw her mother and her hands began to shake. She could feel the blood pumping through her veins, her heart pounding, and a frustrated rage began to quell inside the pit of her stomach. Thea tried to breathe through it, but it was no use. The team looked back at her in surprise.
“What is it?” Diggle asked.
Thea shook her head and said, “Nothing… sorry. I just… I’m surprised the cops missed something like that.”
Diggle met Oliver at the wall and said, “Looks like Draper was trying to claw his way out.”
Oliver glanced towards the entrance of the alley, “There was no out. Whoever killed him knew what they were doing. His throat was slit, but it was slow. The killer severed the nerves bit by bit so Draper felt everything.”
Confused, Laurel asked, “How do you know that?
Oliver coldly answered, "It’s a technique used by the League of Assassins.”
The team absorbed in shocked silence as they realized that Oliver knew how to kill this way due to his time with the League.
“So the League is back in town? Since when do they care about rapists and murderers in Star City?” Diggle asked.
Oliver shook his head, “I don’t know. What I do know is that someone drove Draper into this location. He was hunted.”
The noise was deafening. Thea could no longer hear her own thoughts. All she heard was the chanting. All she felt was the hot blood pulsing through her body until it felt as if her skin would melt off. The rage began to choke her. She had to get out of there.
“I’m going to canvass the streets. See if there are any witnesses.”
“The League doesn’t leave witnesses Thea,” Laurel said.
“Since when are you the expert? I’ve been trained by the League. You trained in a boxing ring,” Thea sneered.
Laurel crossed her arms and answered, “And Nyssa. What’s the matter with you?”
Thea shook her head and said, “Nothing. This place just gives me the creeps. Call me if you find anything.” And she stormed off.
Laurel looked at Oliver in surprise and asked, “What’s up with her?”
Oliver, his voice etched with concern, answered, “I don’t know. Her fuse has been pretty short today.”
“Do you think the bloodlust is back? Diggle asked.
Oliver said gravely, "I don’t know what to think but…”
He trailed off, as the hair on his arm prickled against his skin. Oliver began to search the air like an animal who just realized it was prey. He instinctively shifted his body, kneeling to the ground and a bullet suddenly whizzed past him. It grazed his shoulder, but bounced harmlessly off the Kevlar. The bullet smashed into the brick wall, leaving a poof of concrete dust in its wake.
***Who Are You Really by Mikky Echo
“DOWN!” Oliver ordered as another shot rang out. The team hit the ground. When there was a pause between shots Oliver jumped to his feet and leapt towards the wall.
“Shots came from the north. I’ll track from the roofline. You and Laurel circle around, and we’ll box them in,” Oliver commanded as he began to scale the wall.
Within moments he reached the rooftop. Oliver quickly scanned the roofline toward the north. There, in the distance, against the shine of the city lights, he saw a glimmer of reflected light from the sniper’s scope.
Oliver started to run towards the shooter. Another shot rang out, but he slid against the rooftop in a seamlessly transition. The bullet missed again, and he leapt to his feet without missing a beat. Oliver pulled an arrow from his quiver and aimed it directly at the sniper’s location. He knew he hit his mark even before the arrow shattered the scope of the rifle. The shooter dropped the gun and revealed his or her location, now only a few rooftops away.
“North on Ocean and 8th!” Oliver shouted into the comms.
“Copy that!” Diggle answered as he and Laurel took a sharp turn left.
Oliver picked up speed and continued his chase. The shooter and Oliver moved in an elegant, synchronous tangent as they leapt and rolled between the rooftops of Star City. Their bodies were shadows against the sky, unseen to those milling about peacefully on the streets below.
Oliver’s confidence surged. He was faster, and he knew it. Oliver soared slightly higher than the shooter with a final leap. He landed on top of the shooter’s back and knocked him to the ground. The shooter fell, but absorbed the hit by rolling onto his back and ending on his knees. He pivoted and stood so Oliver could finally see the shooter clearly. He was dressed in the full military garb of HIVE- his face covered with a black mask.
The HIVE sniper threw a punch, which Oliver blocked, but soon the two were trading fast and furious blows. His speed and skill were impressive, and Oliver struggled at first to keep up. He put Oliver in a blood choke, but Oliver slipped from the hold. Oliver flipped the sniper’s body over his back; slamming him hard to the ground. Diggle and Laurel arrived on the rooftop just as Oliver pulled his bow and pointed an arrow at the agent. The sniper held his hands up in surrender.
“Who are you?” Oliver demanded. The voice of The Green Arrow was low, guttural and completely disguised. The sniper was silent.
Diggle pulled his gun, pointed it at the agent for cover and nodded to Oliver. Oliver lowered his bow, bent down and removed the mask from the agent. He stumbled back in shock.
Laurel gasped, “Tommy?”
Tommy didn’t look at Laurel. His glaring eyes never left Oliver. He reached for the gun at his holster, but Oliver quickly disarmed him. Without hesitation, Oliver delivered a crushing blow to Tommy’s face and knocked him out cold.