Author's Note: So, barely two weeks ago, I was thinking about all the fantasy books I used to read and still love. And the germ of an idea started-what about a CaptainCanary fantasy AU? Thieves and assassins are fantasy staples, after all. What, I thought on my commute home that day, if Leonard and Sara were the heads of the Thieves and Assassins Guilds, respectively, and had to work together to save their city?

And this happened. I'm posting seven chapters now, with four more and an epilogue to come soon. (Three more chapters are done and the rest are close.) I adore this AU, and I hope you do, too!

Many thanks to LarielRomeniel for the beta and Pir8grl for reading, encouragement and many tips on useful clothing and setting-type things. For Dragonydreams. J

"Boss!"

Leonard, who'd been leaning back and contemplating the old fire-blackened beams overhead while balancing a dagger on one calloused fingertip, let his chair thump back to the floor, raising an eyebrow as his second in command thundered up the stairs and into his office. Mick tended not to run anywhere for nearly anyone these days, so this must be good…or bad, as the case may be.

His old friend halted in the doorway, catching his breath and grunting as Leonard merely looked at him with an inquiring expression. But Len didn't speak, and Mick quickly got tired of waiting for his boss to ask.

"There's a new head of the Assassins Guild," he said shortly, folding his arms. "An' she did it like you—the old way."

That was…not even remotely news Len had expected. He'd admit that his mouth fell open, but he quickly closed it—although not before Mick saw the expression of shock and smirked victoriously.

Len ignored the expression but climbed to his feet, straightening his black tunic and thinking furiously.

"Then Darhk…"

"Is dead." Mick actually grinned. "As a doornail. Cold meat. All that stuff. I think some of the junior Guild members threw 'im off the South Gate cliffs."

Given Darhk's appetites and what he'd done to the once-respected Centralis Assassins Guild, Len wasn't really surprised. But he was more concerned about other things at the moment.

"Her, you said." he frowned thoughtfully. "Someone local?" He doesn't know of anyone currently in the Guild, male or female, both or neither, who'd be able to take Darhk. If he did, things would have been different long before now. He'd have seen to that.

"Word is no. Newcomer to the city." Mick paused. "From what I hear, I don' think she knew what she was doing."

Len paused in tucking a few stilettos up his sleeves. "She didn't mean to kill him?"

"Nah. That, she meant. She didn't know it would make her Guild head." He shook his head. "Or…so Sarab said. I was down at Saints n' Sinners when he came in. It's still quiet…but it will be all over the city soon."

Len winced, reaching out to collect his dagger from the desk. With a quick spin, he sheathed it at his belt. "That…"

"That could be real good-or real bad." Mick nodded. "You wanna talk to her, boss? 'Fore it all crashes in on her?"

Len paused, eyes fixed on the other item on his desk.

He remembered. He remembered what it was like…the determined challenger, the terrible Guild head who seemed hellbent on destroying everything that made the Guild system in Centralis work, the knowledge that loss meant death, and a particularly brutal one-and the realization that, even after victory, the hard work was just beginning.

"Yeah," he said, picking up his Guild emblem and lowering the heavy platinum chain over his head, wrapping long fingers around the snowflake-shaped sapphire depending from it. "I do."

Sara A'Stella, Ta-er al-Sahfar, master assassin, newly made Guild head in Centralis, was slowly, methodically, banging her head against the smooth, dark surface of her new desk.

Not hard enough to hurt herself, oh no. But enough to distract herself, from what she'd blundered into here and what she'd done to her future when she did.

She doesn't regret killing Damien Darhk. She'd spent barely three days in Centralis and had known nearly immediately what needed to be done. But she hadn't realized what that death, at her hands, would mean here.

Her fingers closed around the chain of the Guild emblem around her neck. The nearly black stone had belonged to Darhk, although Sara would be expected to get her own stone soon. The sooner the better—she hated having something that Darhk had owned on her person.

But what a new emblem would mean…

"Sara!" Amaya A'Zambesi, Sara's dearest friend, who'd accompanied her to Centralis and thus gotten herself embroiled in this whole mess, too, poked her head in the door and frowned. "Stop that!" She paused, and Sara could very nearly hear her snicker. "You're going to damage that very nice desk."

Sara let her forehead rest on the surface. "If I knock myself out," she pointed out thoughtfully, "I won't have to deal with anything for a while."

She heard Amaya sigh. Her friend, whom she'd met while traveling, wasn't, properly speaking, an assassin, though she was a very talented warrior and mage—where she came from, the traditions weren't always separated. Still, she'd made it clear to the members of the Assassins Guild that she wasn't leaving Sara's side, proper assassin or not, and Sara was beyond grateful for that.

"Well, here's another reason to stop, then," Amaya said then, just a bit tartly. "The head of Thieves Guild is here to meet you—to 'pay his respects,' he says." She paused as Sara lifted her head to stare at her, then smirked. "He's quite attractive, actually. And very highly respected, from all I've heard."

Sara sat up hastily, running a hand over the pale braids pinned up to her head and checking her clothing. After the battle early this morning, she'd scrubbed for what seemed like an hour and sent the clothing she'd been wearing off to be burned. She still didn't feel entirely clean.

She wasn't sure she ever would again.

Amaya's eyes were sympathetic as Sara glanced back at her and cleared her throat. If something were amiss, Amaya would have said something, Sara knew. But she also understood.

"That was quick," Sara said after a moment.

"Thieves always have the best sources of information." Amaya paused. "His second's with him. You…"

"You're my second." Sara stood, trying to sound uncompromising.

"Not an assassin," Amaya reminded her. "The Guild…"

"Tough. They'll have to live with it for now." Sara shook her head. "I'm not taking anyone who had any kind of position of power under Darhk just because 'that's how things were always done.' That's how they got Darhk to begin with." She hesitated. "Thieves Guilds traditionally work together with the Assassins Guild. I know we haven't been here long, but…"

Amaya was shaking her head. "Not here." She nibbled her lip. "I have done some asking. There hasn't been that sort of arrangement here at least since Leonard took over the Thieves Guild. No love lost."

That can only be a good thing. "Leonard," she mused. "No patrial?" And no patronym, although those are rare, only given by high nobility or royalty to families for services to the kingdom.

Sara doesn't use hers.

Amaya shrugged. "A'Centralis, I presume, although he didn't give one." She eyed Sara. "And you probably shouldn't keep him waiting any longer."

Sara waved a hand. "All right. Uh. Do I go down to him, or…"

Of course, Amaya had already found all that out. "I'll send him to you. But be standing until he gets here, or you're treating him like a supplicant."

"Can't have that."

Amaya gave her one more encouraging smile, then departed. Sara fidgeted a little, looking around as she stood there in Damien Darhk's old office, wondering how this had become her life.

She'd come to Centralis to join the Guild here because it was relatively close to Stella, and she couldn't go back there—not yet. She hadn't known that a mad man had taken over the Guild, that he was ruling it with an iron fist (and not in a good way), that she'd regret her decision to join nearly immediately and plan to leave—until she'd walked in on him "disciplining" three apprentices early this morning when she arrived to turn in her Guild token.

Two of the kids hadn't made it. The third was still holding on. Everyone had known Darhk had a touch of magic—many people did. But until then, Sara hadn't realized it took the form of blood magic.

There was a quiet step at the doorway. Sara looked up, trying to look both receptive and deadly. She knew she was both, but it was different trying to exude that.

The head of the Centralis Thieves Guild was a tall man with close-shaven graying hair and piercing blue eyes, eyes that were looking directly at her with an intent and curious expression. Amaya was right, Sara realized, eying him: He was attractive, graceful and poised with lean but undeniable muscle. Older-Sara put him at about 10 years her senior—but definitely attractive. Sexy, even.

And that was so completely not what she should be thinking right now.

Sara cleared her throat. "Hello," she said quietly. "I'm Ta-er…Sara A'Stella. And I suppose that you know by now that…" She spread her hands, indicating the office around her. "…I'm the new head of the Assassins Guild."

The man regarded her another moment, then inclined his head, those remarkable eyes still holding hers.

"Thank you," he said quietly, his voice low and intense and every bit as attractive as the physical aspect. Damn.

Still, the words weren't what she was expecting. "Excuse me?"

"For taking out Darhk." The man shrugged, a one-shouldered gesture, as he took one step into the office, pausing before going far enough to connote any sort of threat. "I'd dreamed of doing it myself, but…." He let his voice trail off, then shrugged again, smirking at her.

"Anyway," he drawled, spreading his hands out before him just like she had. "Leonard. Head of the Thieves Guild. A'Centralis, but I generally just use 'Len.'"

Sara lifted her chin, watching him, wondering what he was thinking. "Len," she returned. "And why is that?"

The question was imprecise, and she regretted it immediately, but Len zeroed right in on what she really meant—and chose to answer it.

"Because he was bad for the guild and bad for this city," he said flatly, looking her right in the eyes. "Really bad. I did whatever I could to counteract it. But there was only so much, and…" He let both shoulders rise and fall. "I had my own to watch out for."

"Your own."

"My guild." For the first time, there was a crack in that smooth façade. Sara, watching, saw anger and determination and even a touch of regret in those ice-blue eyes. "I took it 10 years ago. In the old way—same as you."

The old… "You killed your predecessor."

"I did." Len dipped his head. "And for much the same reasons. But…I knew what I was getting into. I don't believe you did."

Was it that obvious? Well, to anyone who hadn't been there when a Guild member had moved to give her Darhk's chain and emblem and Sara, still covered in blood and with a sword in her hand, had recoiled?

There seemed to be no point in denying it, though. "I didn't." She tipped her head to him. "In…in most places I've been, there would have been a vote after the dust had cleared. I figured I'd just…remove my name from contention. I didn't realize Centralis went by the old ways."

There was…no, not sympathy, thank gods…in Len's eyes. Understanding, though. "Then why," he asked quietly, "did you do it?"

If he knew as much as he had shown so far, he probably knew this too. But Sara can understand why he would want to hear it from her.

"I walked in on Darhk practicing black magic," she told him bluntly, folding her arms, watching him carefully. "On three apprentices who'd flubbed a mission. Because of his shoddy training practices and handling of Guild matters, but that didn't matter to him. He was taking their life energy." She sighed. "Two of them are dead anyway. We're not sure about the third."

He had an excellent card-sharp's face, did this Leonard, but he either let her see his thoughts or didn't care to hide them at the moment. Satisfaction, regret, and a cold, cold fury chased each other across his features until they resolved into determination. He stared off into the distance a moment, then nodded firmly and transferred that blue gaze back to Sara.

"The Thieves and Assassins Guild traditionally work together, in most cities," he told her. "That hasn't been the case here since I took over-and then refused to deal with Darhk." He nodded. "I'd be honored to try to reestablish that alliance…with the Guild under you."

Despite the seriousness, was there something suggestive in that tone, in those words? Oh, Sara thought there was. But to her own surprise, it didn't anger her or even annoy her, although by all rights the presumption should.

She liked Leonard. Liked him with an instinctive and surprising thoroughness. He had a thief's caution, but her instincts told her that he'd spoken truth to her and, what was more, shown her truth in his own unconcealed expressions.

She made her decision right then and there. But he didn't need to know that yet.

Instead, Sara lifted an eyebrow at him. "You don't even know me," she returned.

A quick smirk, and Len leaned forward. "I'm a very good judge of character," he drawled.

Sara, trying not to smile, smirked back. "We shall see."

"I look forward to it." And then, with a wink, Len rose again to his full height and became serious again. "You know you'll have to be formally presented to King Hunter and the captains of the Triple Guards," he told her. "Soon: within the next 48 candlemarks." He paused. "I'll sponsor you, if you wish. But if you don't, they'll presume you might not be planning to abide by the usual set of rules."

Sara stared at him, then sighed. She hated court functions. But he didn't need to know that or how she knew it. "And Darhk did?"

"He knew how to play the game. It gave him a measure of safety." Len hesitated, eyes still serious. "Trust me when I tell you that Hunter will be pleased. Even a monarch can't just remove a Guild head. And there had been threats made to his son…"

Hunter? Sara didn't realize she'd murmured the name out loud until Leonard lifted an eyebrow at her. She shook her head. "I'll never get over just how…how mainstream the so-called Lower Guilds are here," she told him. "You call the king by his patronym?"

Len's lips twitched, and Sara saw mischief in his eyes. "Mostly that's just to annoy him," he told her. "But, yes." He shrugged. "Thieves and assassins happen. Especially in any sizable city. Best to have them regulated and trained and policing themselves. It's worked here for a long, long time."

"Until a Damien Darhk happens," Sara reminded him.

Len tipped his head to her. "Until then," he agreed, then changed the subject. "I'd be honored to sponsor you in front of the king. You took power this morning; if you are going to play by the rules, we should probably go to court tomorrow afternoon, if not tonight." A look of distaste crossed his features. "I'm not a fan of evening court; too much posturing. Afternoon's bad enough."

"Tomorrow is fine." If she can't find a way out of this by then, she never will.

"You'll need court formal garb." He rather too obviously avoided studying her worn leathers, perfectly serviceable for every day, but hardly impressive.

Sara rolled her eyes, inspecting his own unrelieved black. The starkness of the outfit contrasted with the cut, which she knew perfectly well was tailored and would not have been cheap. Her fellow Guild head knew he looked damned good—and may have been trying to impress her.

"I can handle that," she informed him. Or, more correctly, Amaya would. "And…thank you. I do appreciate the offer."

A flicker of something in those amazing eyes again. "Believe me when I tell you, Sara…" Argh, the way he said her name! "…that it's my pleasure."

For all the suggestiveness in the tone, there was a very real thread of sincerity too. Sara dipped her head, agreed to wait here for him at two candlemarks after noon the next day, and watched as he turned for the door.

She didn't realize that she was going to tell him until she did it.

"Someone put him into power. Darhk," she said, watching those impressive shoulders under the night-black tunic freeze. "Someone's been pulling strings. There's something rotten going on in this city."

After a long moment, Len looked back at her. "I suspected that," he said quietly. "But…we'll talk?"

"Yes."

And with that, the head of the Centralis Thieves Guild left her office, more questions than answers in his wake. Sara thoughtfully watched him go—and wasn't ashamed that she admired the ass in those tight black pants—then sank down into the chair with a sigh.

"This is either going to be a lot of fun," she murmured, thinking of Leonard and his sexy voice and his friendly innuendo. "Or an utter disaster."