How did Legault meet Aesha, the woman he would one day have to kill?

Like this, according to my brain.

Possibly inspired by playing too much Devil May Cry. I am guilty, I'm sorry!

For those of you who read Symphony, update will be coming soon, I promise.

Disclaimer: Don't own and never will *sigh*

From a 100themes list. Although I doubt I'll ever write 100...

[You can't run from the cleaner]

There were two rather bored guards on duty outside the castle gates. They were bored because their duty was largely pointless – the doors were impossible to unlock from the outside and the walls were unclimbable – and also because they were the only two people missing the concert that was due to start soon. A recital of sorts.

The Hurricane walked up to these guards with an easy smile on his face. Shameless, that was him. But, to be fair, he did have a right to be.

"Hey, you. Stop right there!" One guard told him. Legault looked at him with a strange expression.

"I was just wondering – is this Felirae Castle?" He asked, even though it was the only castle for miles around, and hard to miss. The guards gave him a look that made him think that they thought he was crazy. Perfect.

"Of course it is! Do you see any other castles around?" Bored guard #2 snapped. Legault smiled slightly.

"The impenetrable fortress, Felirae Castle?" The Guards nodded as one. Legault smiled.

"Just wondering. Have a nice day." He walked back down the path, leaving two very confused as well as bored guards, deviated once he was out of their rather pathetic line of sight and made his way to the moat.

"Impenetrable… Well, I do so love a challenge," he remarked, unhooking a grapple and rope from his belt. He would get inside, because he had a job to do, and although Lloyd and Linus had offered him a ticket to the concert, he had dismissed it, telling them that it was far too easy that way. Plus, if he sat through the whole concert on display, his target may well recognise him. The Reed brothers knew that the second reason was only an excuse.

The grapple hooked onto a first-storey arrow-slit window, and Legault looked at the moat below, tugging the grapple to make sure it was securely latched. He really did not relish going for a swim right then.

He tied the rope around his waist, then looped it through his hands, steadied himself, and jumped. He pulled on the rope as he skimmed rather too close to the water for his liking, but hit the other side without harm.

Careless, to let himself get so close.

He unhooked the grapple with a swift flick of his wrist, looped the rope up and fixed it back to his belt. His hands ran over the stones that made up the walls, judging how climbable they were, how old they were, and figured that the stone would probably crumble under his fingers if he tried. So, instead, the Hurricane ran to a walkway and got his grapple out again, swinging it up so it lodged behind one of the crenulations and using it to walk up the wall. He landed on the walkway with practiced ease and gathered up his grapple again. For a supposedly impenetrable fortress, that had been far too easy. But, then again, it was probably supposed to be impenetrable to invading armies, who didn't often employ people who could climb better than your average cat. Legault didn't particularly have anything against the people of Felirae, either. They were led by a good man, they led honourable lives. Just… Not the man he was here to kill. The Red Lion. The traitor who had murdered two good Fang assassins in cold blood and thought he could get away with it.

Legault resolved to get away from the exposed walkway as quickly as possible, climbing down the supporting wood and landing in the Courtyard. It was mostly deserted, most people being in the Great Hall in preparation for the concert – no, listening to the concert, Legault could hear music filtering out from the opposite side of the castle. He walked across the Courtyard calmly, looking for all the world like he was supposed to be there. He was a master of lies and deceit, he could have made any one of the people he saw doubt that they were supposed to be there if he was really pushed. Not that he'd bother. Disappearing was easier.

The doors to the Great Hall were locked, as the concert was in progress, but Legault spotted an open window and swiftly climbed up to it. The walls inside the castle were no challenge, he was already almost as bored as those guards. His sharp ears picked out someone making a remark that they thought they'd seen someone as he dropped through the window and onto one of the eaves that supported the roof, but he dismissed it.

He crept along into the middle of the room, or thereabouts, eyes scanning the rows for his target. He knew the man, in fact he'd actually spoken to him, just once, and he hadn't liked him even then. He read people, that was what he was good at. It was a shame he hadn't spoken out about it before the two people he'd killed had got in his way.

Murderous scum.

Lloyd and Linus had supplied him with a programme even if he hadn't wanted the ticket – which he'd still taken, he had to say, he just hadn't intended to use it – and a quick flick through it informed him that there was one item left before the concert finished. Well, he might as well get a little enjoyment out of what he was doing…

His eyes never once left his target as the singer walked on stage, but when he moved so as not to draw attention to one spot, he did glimpse her out of the corner of his eye. She was very pretty – the type Lloyd and Linus would describe as 'stunning' when they weren't employing some less-than-flattering terminology, and Legault's eyes left his target for a little longer, although he wasn't careless enough to let his mind wander too far. Mission first – revenge first – women second. It could be a close second if he played his cards right, however.

Her singing voice was hauntingly beautiful, and it had certainly captured the attention of his target. Legault wondered at the man's gall, thinking that he could be so open after betraying the Fang so heavily. He would pay the price for it, though. Legault smiled slightly as the woman started the second verse, and slowly and silently climbed down from the eaves.

He didn't intend to kill the man here – although to try and dispatch him without his neighbours noticing would be a fun challenge indeed. No, he would wait until the man departed to his room, probably kill him whilst he slept. He'd been tracking the man's movements for a while now, he seemed to think himself invulnerable. He would stay in the castle tonight – he was easily predictable and not the type to waste money. Legault knew he'd be able to find out which room… He toyed with the idea of speaking to him in person, and, with a grin, decided that doing so would certainly be the most fun option. No-one ever remembered his face. Besides, it was usually the last thing they ever saw, if he was feeling clever and didn't just grab them from behind and dispatch them.

As the music died down and the audience began to clap, Legault joined in, watching the woman bow with a smile on her face, pleased with her reception, relief that she hadn't messed up on her face. He'd been able to see the hint of nerves as she'd sung, she'd been afraid that people wouldn't think her good.

As people began to move out of the hall, Legault slipped through the crowd, heading for his target. Several people were speaking to the woman, keeping her in one place as she thanked them, looking flustered and embarrassed.

"Ah, excuse me, Sir…" Legault started, his best 'uncertain and easily taken in' voice on. He could make people think whatever they wanted. His target turned, a slight grin on his face at the naïve expression Legault wore. An easily taken in teen. A perfect mark.

"Yes? What is it that you wanted?" He asked. Legault's eyes took in the air about him – he was rich and he knew it, he'd been putting his skills to a less-than-moral use it seemed.

"I've heard of you, Sir, people are saying that, um, well… Saying that you know things…" Legault cleared his throat 'nervously'. "My little brother isn't well, Sir, I've tried to… To get money to help him, but… And I was… Hoping, maybe…" Legault saw the smirk spread on his face as he placed a 'comforting' hand on Legault's shoulder.

"Maybe I could show you a thing or two…" He remarked, his eyes taking in the decorative – and expensive – knife at Legault's side, one that he presumed was for show or skinning food only, and also the elaborate cloak pin that Legault had gone to the trouble of finding to present the naïve, innocent persona. A boy who had money but didn't know it, who was desperate just for a little cash to help his sick family. Hook, line and sinker, he'd fallen for it. It was such a cliché that Legault wondered just how stupid the man was. "Come to my room later on, after sunset," he offered. Legault's sharp eyes picked out the way his hand hovered just above where he would have kept his knife – not that the innocent boy would have suspected a knife. "It's on the second floor, the third corridor. Ask the guards for the Red Lion." Legault nodded.

"Thank you, Sir! I won't forget!" He promised, and the man turned away with a laugh. The persona vanished instantly. Oh, he would not forget…

The nerve of him, keeping his Fang nickname!

Legault then made his way over to the woman, around whom the crowd had now thinned. She greeted him with a slight smile.

"Good evening, milady," he told her, bowing slightly. "May I congratulate you on an excellent performance?" She flushed red.

"Oh, ah, thank you, Sir…" She started. Her eyes went to Legault's target as he left, she'd clearly seen him talking. Legault raised an eyebrow. She was rather perceptive, it seemed.

"My name is Legault, milady, but you may call me the Hurricane," he informed her with a slight smile. "It may seem forward, but may I treat you to dinner?" she went redder, mumbling something incomprehensible about didn't he have no money? Legault chuckled. Good hearing, too. "At least treat me to your name," he suggested. She looked up.

"Aesha," she replied. "I'm Aesha." Legault smiled.

"A pretty name for a pretty woman," he decided. "And I have far more money than I need." He produced the Red Lion's wallet, which he had rather expertly lifted, if he said so himself. Stealth was his strong point. She didn't need to know that he'd stolen it, however. "I would happily…" He trailed off, his sharp ears catching movement in the rafters. "Down!" he jumped, grabbing her and taking her down to the floor with him as an arrow split the air where her head had been mere seconds earlier. "Damn," he cursed, not even trying to take advantage of the position they were in as he stood up, taking her hand. "With me!" He ran with her into the corridor that led to her dressing room, then produced a knife. "Stay there, don't move!" He told her, passing her the weapon. "If someone comes for you, stab them, understood?" Aesha looked at the weapon with trepidation, then nodded, and Legault produced a second knife – neither of the weapons had been in easy view – ran a little way back into the room, then climbed the wall.

The archer went down pathetically easily, his throat cut. A cry of surprise from Aesha meant he ignored the second archer he could hear, jumping back down an entire storey without damage, rolling as he hit the floor to run to her.

"Ah… He…" Aesha started, the attacker dead at her feet. Legault made a noise of surprise at her clean kill.

"Heh, you've got skills," he muttered, kneeling by the body, turning it over and searching for any form of identification.

"Legault… Hurricane… Who are you?" Aesha asked. "You are no ordinary man." Legault nodded absently.

"I'm a… Debt collector of sorts," he responded. "I clean up. Damn, no identification to speak of… But they're not after me…"

"You think they would be?" Aesha asked, clutching the knife protectively. Legault nodded.

"It's not a particularly thankful job," he responded. "With me. Don't drop that knife, keep low, I've another archer to take out if possible." Aesha nodded, letting him take her free hand and creep back into the room.

He jumped up and pulled the second would-be assassin down with him, both of them hitting the ground hard, Legault's fall cushioned by the assailant, who groaned in pain.

"Ugh…" He coughed up blood. Legault frowned.

"Who sent you?" He demanded. The archer glared at him.

"I'd rather die than betray my masters," he responded. Legault's knife was at his throat within seconds, and his eyes widened.

"Change of heart?" Legault offered coldly. Aesha made a surprised noise.

"There's another!" She cried, Legault's hearing telling him so seconds afterwards, and he cursed fluently and produced a third knife, which he promptly threw behind him. There was the sound of metal hitting flesh, and the archer fell from the rafters, knife embedded in his throat.

"Someone's really out for your blood, Aesha," he muttered. "Tell me who sent you before I make you a new mouth. I'm an assassin by trade, I don't make idle threats, you got me?" The man made a muffled worried noise, his eyes never leaving the knife.

"The Black Fang!" He blurted out eventually. Legault rolled his eyes.

"Oh, please. I'm a member of the Fang," he responded. There was a shocked expression on Aesha's face. "Don't make me have to kill you, now, I was only here for one tonight." The archer choked, fearful, and Legault cursed and stepped back as his eyes rolled back in his head.

"Arsenic," he muttered. "Coward's way out!" He turned to Aesha, who was now holding the knife that had been thrown at the archer as well as the one he'd given her. "Good thinking. Give me the spare, you can come with me. I don't know what's going on here, but I know that I can't leave you on your own now." Aesha nodded nervously, passing over the second knife, which Legault sheathed. "I've still got a job to do, I can't abandon that despite this situation. Do you understand?" Aesha nodded.

"…Quite some debts, these people must owe," she remarked, a slight, nervous smile appearing on her face. Legault laughed.

"Indeed," he agreed. "This man has two lives to pay for. Come. I promise he won't hurt you. He really is quite stupid, to be frank." Aesha nodded, following the assassin as he swiftly moved towards his target's room.

He paused and listened at the door, Aesha still holding the knife, her confidence higher now as Legault smiled to himself.

"You are now my lady friend. He'll love that," Legault told her. "But don't worry – he won't harm you." On went his naïve persona as he knocked on the door.

"Who is it? Ah, you," he started with a slight smile. "And who's this? A friend of yours?" Legault nodded.

"I didn't want to leave her on her own, Sir," he replied, perfectly honestly. The man grinned and stepped back.

"Please, do come in. I'll take good care of you both…" Legault noted Aesha's brief fear at his tone, glad that she could pick up on things like that. She would make a good assassin, if she could lose her fear… And shake off whoever wanted her dead. The man shut the door and locked it. "Now, to business," he started. Legault drew a knife.

"Indeed," he responded, noting the man's confused look. "You were foolish, Red Lion, not to ask for my name." The frown turned to mild fear. "I am the Hurricane. It is a shame that you did not remember my face. I can promise you, you will not forget it now." The man didn't even have time to speak as Legault slit his throat with practiced grace. "Idiot," he spat, watching him crumple to the floor. "To think that the Black Fang would let you free without paying for your crimes. That is justice, done." He sheathed the knife. "Come. I'll take you with me to the rendezvous point. It's not safe for you in the castle." Aesha nodded, the knife sliding into her belt. "You've got some skill, you know," he remarked. "You'd make a nice addition to the Fang."

"Me… Join the Fang?" Aesha repeated as Legault got out his grapple, securing it to the window.

"Sure thing," Legault agreed amiably, tying the end around her waist. "Keep hold of me. I promise you, you're safe." Aesha nodded warily and grabbed hold of him, piggyback-style, as Legault semi-walked, semi-abseiled down the castle wall. Once they reached the bottom, he unhooked and caught the grapple, untying it from Aesha's waist and attaching it to his belt once more.

"I think we'll cross the bridge. So much easier," Legault decided, leading her over to where the same two bored guards were stood at the gate.

"Hey, you. How'd you get over there?" One asked, recognising him from before.

"Oh, good evening, gentlemen," Legault responded jovially. "I just went for a walk. It's true, your castle really is impenetrable. Good luck with the guarding thing." The guards watched him walk off down the road with looks of utter confusion, as Legault resisted the urge to laugh.

Job: done. Damsel in distress: saved. All in all, Legault thought, that had been a pretty successful mission.

Two weeks later Aesha was accepted into the Black Fang's ranks, having passed the entrance exam with ease. She became known as the Storm.