Arrow: Fanfic: By the sword

[m_findlow]

Title: By the sword
Fandom: Arrow
Characters: Malcolm Merlyn
Author: m_findlow
Rating: PG
Length: 604 words
Content notes: none
Author notes: Written for badly_knitted's prompt "Any, any, Cowards die many times before their deaths; the valiant never taste of death but once" at fic_promptly
Summary: Merlyn's plans have gone astray

The snow hardened ground cracked beneath his feet. It hadn't taken nearly so long to find the place as he'd expected. Then again, for all his holier and wiser than thou posturing, Ras was an incredibly arrogant man. His secret battle ground was only as well hidden as the intentions of those close to his highest ranks. Everyone had a price, and despite his excommunication, the name of Al Sâ ir still engendered fear in many of the assassins.

He trudged through the bitter wind and snow, a single lamplight guiding him to the outskirts of the arena. He extinguished the flame, plunging himself into darkness. Ray might be arrogant, but he might still also keep a guard or two over the place. The battle was over and Ras victorious, but he would be certain to make sure no one desecrated the site and what it represented. No one would be allowed to return to reclaim the body of the defeated, to place it on display as a martyr. Or a warning

Malcolm too had returned in search of the body. One way or another he had to know.

He discovered one of the assassins, keeping a watch, just as he'd anticipated. He earned his namesake, disappearing from the opposite side of the clearing, and reappearing behind the man, swiftly grabbing his head and twisting it sharply, snapping the neck clean in two, letting the assassin's body slump into the snow, and dragging it away to the cliff's edge, shoving it over.

He spared a glance for the body as it tumbled down the rock face in the darkness. It was steep and jagged, a formidable descent, with no alternative route to the bottom. Just one of the many reasons Ras had chosen this place as his battle ground.

Merlyn relit his lamp and began the arduous climb downwards, eyes constantly alert for his quarry. Finally reaching the rocky bottom he wandered about for hours, casting his dim light around, searching for any trace. The storms had done well to cover any blood in deep drifts of snow, and would have been sufficient to bury any body as well. Merlyn finally conceded defeat.

Oliver Queen was dead.

And now so was he.

Years of business experience had taught him the value of having contingencies in place. Now it had all come to ruin.

He'd made the mistake of relying on someone else. It was the first thing you learned when you joined the League. Every warrior in combat fights his battle alone.

Thea had been the one powerful bargaining chip in his hand. The League wanted Merlyn dead for breaking their code with his undertaking, and now they knew that there was someone else they could go after in his stead. It was why he'd trained Thea so well, so she would be able to protect herself even if he wasn't there. If the League though they could defeat Merlyn and his family, they were sorely mistaken.

And Oliver would do anything for her, and he distrusted Merlyn just enough to know that he wouldn't entrust her safety to him, no matter how much he claimed to care for her. They would work and train together for Thea's sake, and for Thea's sake alone.

Now he needed to rethink his plans. Oliver dying had not factored into them, but he always got what he wanted in the end.

Malcolm's battle was with Ras and the league, but he'd left Oliver to fight it. It was the cowards way out, yet he felt no shame. Cowards lived by the sword, whilst heroes died by it.