Talia had found herself getting fonder of the little warrior she was training. Even though she had never let affection hinder her judgment, and Mona clearly was a person who she should have no affection for as both her parents had been her enemies at some point, still she found herself getting tender towards her.

She made sure not to let the girl or anyone else from the League suspect that because she couldn't risk letting the fear in their hearts regarding her waver. Fear, she knew, was a significant tool in controlling the people under her. And she made sure that her subjects lived in her fear, killing Nyssa was an act to ensure that too.

Mona was terribly afraid of her and she knew it, sometimes relished the feeling even. But deep down as time passed she had begun to care for the obedient child.

She maintained a tough facade in front of her and the other League members, making sure that the girl knew her goals and the stakes if she failed to achieve the target. But in a discreet way, she also made sure that Mona was coping well with it.

She had lessened her routine of watching the girl train as the regimes got tougher but often after training when Mona would return to her room and fall exhaustively asleep, she would go to that room and stay with the sleeping child for some time, all the while pondering on whether she was doing the right thing by following her plan or not.

Talia had recently had to leave for the base that Deathstroke had claimed earlier when he had attempted to overthrow her, in order to look after its restoration. She returned a few days later and the first inclination she had was to see how much her little warrior had improved in those days.

However, she restrained herself and waited till night to visit her room. The girl was fast asleep when she entered and cautiously sat down on the bed beside her, fingers stroking her soft brown tresses.

Her bright blue eyes were shut tightly and she was curled underneath the thin blanket, either from cold or fear. Talia's slender fingers lingered on her forehead, finding it burning up in fever.

"Ummi," the child whimpered and snuggled closer to her, hands clutching at her dress, "ummi..."

Talia felt a lump rise in her throat, hearing the word she hadn't been addressed with by anyone other than Damian. Almost as if by instinct, her arms wrapped around the frail figure, bringing her closer as she stroked the dainty little head that she had taken in her lap.

"La tatrukuni ya 'ummi," the voice was reduced to a barely audible whimper, the words in her native tongue drawing her towards the child.

She felt her heart wrench at those words, an indescribable pain shooting through her veins as she clenched her jaw to suppress it within herself. The child was calling out to her, begging her not to leave her, yet tragically unaware of what Talia was devising on her lethal chessboard.

She was planning to put that sweet innocent child in life threatening danger, from which there was little to no chance of survival. And yet Mona was reaching out towards her, yearning for a motherly affection.

"Ummi," the word passed her lips again, her grip tightening and Talia felt as if she would break down then and there.

She was being unbelievably cruel to that poor soul and though she hadn't given it much thought earlier, right then she felt guilty about it.

At last bright blue eyes fluttered open, looking up at emerald green. The fear on her face intensified to see the woman so close to her, cradling her frail figure in her arms.

"Mona," she mumbled softly, "you do know your mother won't be able to come back to you."

She nodded but leaned into the palms cupping her cheek, eyes glazing over with a yearning to be able to feel some affection from the stern woman in front of her. Talia knew very well that not even Nyssa had cared or looked after the girl as a mother should and it had left her longing for a motherly figure from even before Nyssa's death.

"Did you train well today, darling?"

She nodded again and hesitantly drew closer to her, wide blue eyes looking up at her with an unfathomable longing. It made Talia's well managed facade shake and she hated that just seeing the child as such had moved her to reach out to her and comfort her.

She is Nyssa's daughter not mine, she repeated in her head over and over again in attempts of invoking the hate she felt towards her mother and direct it toward her instead, trying not to be too soft with the child. But she found herself unable to do that.

"Ummi..." Her voice choked in her throat as tears streaked down her cheeks. Talia felt terrible to see her as such but she didn't push the child away, her grip softening on her as despite herself, her fingers stroked her head soothingly again.

Gradually the whimpers ceased as Mona rested her head back in her lap, eyes falling shut again. Her tiny hands clutched at her dress tightly but after a few minutes, she had drifted off to sleep.

At that moment, Talia took a decision that she would probably regret later on. But the truth was that her increasing attachment to Mona had become the biggest obstacle in the execution of her plan.

If she went ahead with what she had decided, she would ultimately have to give the child up, just like she had given up Damian. The only difference would be that Damian was still alive and she could go see him whenever she wanted, Bruce hadn't posed any restriction on her to meet him.

But if she forfeited Mona on her chessboard, the girl would not survive it and would be snatched away from her forever.

She had never thought she would feel anything even remotely close to love for a child who should have reminded her of her enemies.

But with those innocent features, clear blue eyes and obedient nature, it was very hard to loathe Mona. For her plan to succeed, it would have been much easier if she just hated Mona enough to let her die.

However, as she stared down at the peaceful figure of the little girl curled close to her, she knew she had made it ten times worse for her own self by beginning to care for her.

Talia Al Ghul was conflicted in between her own decisions and a new found affection, unsure of what to let go of because both the prices were heavy to pay.

***