Clothed in our grief

Chapter Forty

-notes at end of chapter-

**On Nanda Parbat.***

"You are pathetic, father." She speaks without any effort, pressing the sword under his chin. The lines of the bones beneath the tight skin that clings to it so desperately, dark blue veins pulsing, struggling to pump blood.

When they said Ra's Al Ghul was not at his best, it's true.

Cane in hand, lungs not fully functional. Back hunched over, refusing to remained seated in the throne he once held so highly for himself. Bright green, unnatural eyes shining and letting the reflection bounce off of her dull grey iris's. His daughter before him, sword in hand in a threatening manner. As if he wasn't dying enough already, just barely grasping onto the thread of life by his fingernails.

"I assumed you dead, Nyssa." His voice is horse, and she can just hear how tired he is. Tired of everything, not feeling the motivation to deal with being pushed any further than he already has been. His eyes seem to only naturally glare at her, as if he doesn't need to stoop down and give any type of attempt to try anything. He's already called off the guards, knowing full well Nyssa could kill them in an instant the second they come through the door. It's a waste, and he can deal with this on his own without anybody dying.

"And that was a fools mistake. Sending the Cain girl to finish off what Shiva could not do? Your actions were just as pathetic as your physical state. Even then, they were. Now? You haven't gotten better, you're only getting worse." She's smirking, just below shoulder length naturally curly hair moves along past her shoulder when she walks around him, pressing the edge of the sword closer to cutting his throat open.

"Nyssa, there's much that has happened since you've been away. We do not have to be on opposing sides," Pausing, closing his eyes and taking a seat back into the large red chair. Ra's was becoming visibly ill. Unable to stand on his own for a long period of time. Nyssa only smirked, and stepped forward. Sword still in hand, one foot on the step before her that leads onto his throne of sorts. Standing before him, with the edge slowly digging into his flesh. Drawing just a bead of blood.

"Where is Damian? I'm taking him with me when I leave. Talia and yourself won't use him as I have been used. I won't allow it, it's as intolerable as your actions." Her smirk is gone, and it's replaced with a scowl. Narrowed eyes into a glare, the crinkles around her eyes that fixate and show him her anger.

"I will not allow anyone to be your prisoner any longer."
"You were dead, there's much you're unaware of. How is it you've come back? You haven't used the lazarus pit, it's impossible." Ra's was starting to show his anger, reaching his hand up to grip the blade of the sword. Nyssa stood her ground, remaining unfazed and refusing to flinch.

"Talia made a mistake by bringing the Constantine girl here. Her reasoning for doing was was admirable, in a twisted way. But in doing so, she left me to make sure her father remained unaware. You think the lazarus pit is the only way to come back from the dead?" A short scoff in more of an exhale coming out from Ra's. He's long since refused anything to have to do with Nyssa. Disowning a daughter was simpler than it sounded, to him. Sending someone to assassinate her? It was a conflicting decision, considering her previous value to him. But what her betrayal? Lady Shiva had a daughter that needed to prove her worth.  Nyssa was only a test.

"You've been dead for seven years. Less we not speak as father and daughter?"
"You may be my blood, but you are not my father."

***At your house, right now.**

"Can your mom adopt me please."
"Lea, aren't you trying to become an emancipated adult?" You replied to her, sitting on the couch with the blanket still in your lap. It's three in the morning, and she comes home with bruised knuckles and a split lip. You didn't even bother asking, she explained the moment she stepped in through the door.