Hello! This was originally going to be just a one shot little story, but I think I might continue it. I have a chapter 2 in the works, so we'll see!

Disclaimer: Obviously I do not own any of the characters, they all belong to the talented SJM. (This story could potentially hold spoilers if you have not read the first three TOG books.)

Chapter 1:

A young woman dashed across the rooftops, barely a silhouette against the darkened sky. The hawk watched her, most drawn to her feline grace, as she slipped down into an alleyway and out of sight. He shook his head. He was just tired and dry for too long, he told himself, his focus returning to the task at hand. A wolf stalked down the street, silver coat catching the moon's lovely rays. That was the signal. All clear. Soon the wolf was accompanied by a second, this one's coat darker, before a great mountain cat slinked from the shadows joining them. The hawk watched as two more joined the crew, an osprey and a singular fae male. No one noticed as the Cadre slinked through the streets in search of their prey. Upon finding the monster's den, the Cadre disposed of them quickly and efficiently, just like they had for centuries. The hawk watched, scenting the wind for anything else coming this way. Noticing a small boy approaching, the great whitetail hawk took to the sky, a warning cry sending his Cadre scattering quickly.

A couple hours later at their rendezvous spot:

"What the hell Rowan? We didn't have time to properly interrogate them!" Connall demanded, finally arriving, his twin close on his heel. The other three already there and waiting.

"I sensed a young boy heading our way and noticed the other townspeople were all on their way home, having left the church. Mave gave us strict instructions to remain completely hidden." Rowan stated simply, though his every muscle was tense. Not one of them said anything after that. Each simply went about his business swiftly and efficiently turning the cave into a functioning, warded shelter. They were the perfect team, all working as one unit. The way they had been trained. The way they fought. It made them nearly invincible. Lorcan and Vaughan stalked in, a freshly killed buck resting over their shoulders as they wordlessly went about skinning and cleaning it in preparation to eat. Gavriel had the cots prepared and their weapons cleaned by the time the twins returned. Rowan knew they had heard their entrance only because they had wanted them too, these males were silent predators. The males sat around a roaring fire, guided by Rowan's wind.

"No sign of any more of the vlag in this part of the woods." Fenrys reported, Connell agreeing with a nod. Rowan sighed, running a hand through his short white hair.

"We move tomorrow then. Clear the forest and the town and move on." No one made to question him. No one said anything.

Rowan Whitehorn flew through the air, bending the currents to his will. An osprey flew to his left, the thrum of his wings barely detectable, even to fae ears. If someone had been watching closely they would have seen two wolves winding through the trees below, a large mountain cat to their right. A singular fae male stalking behind them, grumpy as ever. They neared the town as Rowan nodded to Vaughan and swooped down shifting in a flash of light just before his feet hit the ground.

Celaena Sardothien sat on the roof of the building a couple blocks down. She was barely visible, the slightest shadow against the moonlit darkness. Her gaze was on the carriage across the street, eyes narrowed in on her target. The courtesan disappeared into the pub and she breathed a sigh of disappointment, they always made this too easy. Gracefully she slipped into an easy run, dropping softly into the alleyway. She emerged from the darkness with a stagger in her step and a hood covering her face as she headed into the pub. Merely another drunk partisan staggering from one tavern to the next. Locating her target, Celaena settled into a booth in the back to wait. She watched as her trap fell into place and her target unknowingly moved into position. She was about to spring the trap when a white haired male stalked into the small pub, flanked by two others who looked identical, save for the left one's dark hair and the right's silvery gold.

Rowan Whitehorn stepped into the dimly lit pub, wondering why anyone would ever want to spend time here. His sharp eyes quickly adjusted to the low light and scanned the room, nose wrinkling at the stench. All eyes had gone to him as he watched many lesser men size him up and either cower or decide they had a shot. He almost laughed. He located the man he was here to see, stalking to the booth he occupied in the back. The entire pub seemed to let out a breath, realizing these fierce males were not here for them.

"Rowan! How have you been!" The courtesan smiled, though his amber eyes portrayed the fear he so desperately tried to hide, "I see you brought friends!"

"You and I need to have a little chat. In private." His words were clipped and cold, the voice of Mave's General. The courtesan just nodded somberly.

"I have a room in the back, follow me there in two moments." The courtesan spoke as he got up, casually walking towards the back of the tavern. Rowan decided to do as he wished, if the man tried to flee he would find Lorcan out back, casually resting against the alleyway wall. Gavriel and Vaughan had gone off to sweep the rest of the large town to double check for any remaining valg.

Celaena internally growled as she watched Ashrival head to the back after speaking to the new comers. She had watched him enough to know that they were to follow him two moments later and meet in the back room he usually used for his business. Admittedly these males were quite large and intimidating, but she'd dealt with worse, no one was going to do her job for her. She was Aderlan's Assain, the best assassin in the known world, and she would not be afraid. Celaena threw back the rest of her drink, and slinked off into the shadows, slipping by the fae brutes. Fae, she realized, these males were fae. She ignored the old ache that rose up at the thought, deciding that what they were made no difference, she was still going to beat them.

Rowan Whitehorn counted off the seconds, already impatient and wanting to get back on the road. Fighting the vlag gave him a purpose and he itched for a challenge, magic rising in his blood as if hearing his thoughts. He quieted that roar, nodding to the twins and heading to where the courtesan had said to be waiting. Just as they had reached the room a dark, cloak clad figure dropped from the rafters blocking the door.

"Like hell you're getting in there." The figure, a female, hissed, daggers glinting in the candle light as she widened her stance, preparing for a flight. Rowan rolled his eyes.

"Move aside girl." He spoke, tired and getting annoyed. This whole exchange should already be over.

"No." Her hood fell back enough to show her pearly white teeth, lips pulled back into a cruel, wicked smile. If you could call it a smile at all. Getting impatient Rowan simply commanded his wind to steal the wind from her lungs. She clawed at her throat, gasping for air before falling limp and unconscious. Rowan deposited her onto the ground and stepped around her slim form. He scoffed, she had balls for challenging them, but it was to no avail. He motioned to the twins to go join Gavriel and Vaughan. Mere moments after their departure he felt a shear pain as a dagger embedded itself in his left shoulder, surprised he turned to find no source, the girl no longer resting on the floor.

Celaena Sardothien struggled way more than she had needed, storing air for when he let her go. As she "fell unconscious" her breath returned to her and she smirked as he dropped her to the ground. They always underestimated her. Her smirk grew when the white haired one dismissed the other two, stepping past her. As soon as they had left she acted, throwing one of her daggers as fast as possible, not aiming for anything specific. She hit him in the shoulder. She didn't pause, quickly flipping around him as he turned, missing her completely. Not wasting a moment, knowing that she would be powerless against his magic, she threw two more daggers, one landing in his leg and the other in his right shoulder. She landed, drawing the great sword from across her back, the one she had found in Elena's tomb under the glass castle, and prepared for a fight. He growled, a low and guttural sound, unachievable by humans, though his eyes widened at Damaris.

"Where did you get that?" He hissed, clearly pissed, but surprised.

"None of your business." She growled back. She attacked before the last word had left her mouth, surprised at how effectively he blocked her. He clearly had honed his skills, she wondered how old he was.

"He's mine." She growled, again taking up a fighting stance before the door. Rowan stopped, looking at her as he pulled her daggers from his body, dropping them to the ground.

"I don't want to kill him. I'm just here for information." He sighed. Celaena blinked. Oh.

"In that case, shall we go in together?" She strapped the sword back across her back and re-sheathed her discarded daggers. He just stared at her as if she was crazy.

"You just tried to kill me, and now you want to go in together?" He was clearly not getting this.

"I thought my employer had double crossed me and that you were here to take my job. Nothing personal." She shrugged, "Come on." She didn't let the male respond before entering the dimly lit room.

Rowan Whitehorn had no idea what had just happened, but he pushed away his confusion and followed the women through the door. She removed her hood and he watched as the courtesan blanched.

"Hello Ashrival" she purred, "Long time no see." He couldn't see her face, but he guessed she was smirking as the man went even paler. He looked to Rowan as if to ask for help, but returned his eyes to the women when he received none.

"Celaena, I told Arobynn I would pay! I just need a little more time." He backed away from the dagger that had appeared in her left hand. Where did all these come from?

"Your time is up. It's not like my Master didn't warn you." She spoke, voice a mask of cold amusement, as she stalked towards her prey. She enjoyed this.

"Celaena, wait." The name sounded strange on his tongue. She whirled to him, eyes flashing. Mothers tits, those eyes, he knew those eyes. Turquoise rimmed with gold, Ashryver eyes.

"What?" She almost growled. Those eyes full of annoyance, he knew that look well as it often met him in the mirror. His eyes took in the rest of her fair face, she was definitely beautiful. It was very possible she was indeed closely related to royalty, it would definitely explain the sword.

"My questions first." She rolled her eyes, but stepped back, mock bowing to him as he walked by. He wondered if she knew who he was.

"Look, Rowan, I don't know anything." Color had returned to his face.

"He's lying." Her voice was emotionless, but Rowan already knew.

"I'm going to give you one shot, otherwise my comrade here will gut you before you can even beg for your life." He stated. The courtesan paled again.

"Look, all I heard was that something big is going down soon. The Valg King is planning something, more of them are everywhere. Killing and torturing for fun, taking our women. I heard whispers from the mountain folk that the witches are involved too. Apparently they are all massing in the northern pass inside the Blackbeak keep." Rowan sighed, it was worse then they had feared, way worse.

"Anything else?" He spoke, hiding the wave of devastation that rolled through him.

"Their first target is Terrisan. They plan to test their weapons there before converging on the rest of the continent." The Courtesan spoke quietly, as if he too felt bad for those innocent people.

"How long?" He looked at the women, noting the devastation that crossed her face.

"Four months." The reply was nothing he could have imagined, he'd expected years, not months.

"Holy shit," she spoke, voice quiet, "And they have no idea."

"Why do you care, Sardothien? Don't you work for the king now?" The courtesan hissed. Sardothien? Celaena Sardothien? Was it possible that the famed assassin was indeed a female and had ties to the Terrisan Royal Court? He watched her as she shrugged, the perfect image of indifference.

"I don't." It was the truth, but I wasn't sure which part of the question she was referring to. The Courtesan took it as she didn't care for Terrisan and shrugged.

Celaena Sardothien left, deciding that killing Ashrival could be put off for a while. Holy shit, they were going to completely destroy Terrisan. She pulled up her hood, slinking out the back door of the tavern ignoring the male who was lounging in the shadows. She hurried down the street, tears welling in her eyes as she ran. A deep rage boiled in her core, dragging something to the surface that had long been forgotten. She felt her power fill her blood, thrumming with the need to be released. She ran and ran, trying to put as much distance between herself and the town. She barely reached the other side of the river before she exploded, everything she had bottled up and pushed away came exploding out as she erupted, setting the world on fire.

There is a second chapter coming, I'm thinking this will maybe be a short story with 4-6 chapters. We'll see.