AN: Okay, this is my first fanfiction ever. I'm having a serious case of writers block on my novel at the moment, so I thought 'Hey, why don't I try fanfiction, where the whole world and characters are already planned for you?' and so this was born. I'm not sure how good this is... it's virtually un-edited, and I have a feeling that it's quite flat, if you get what I mean.

Oh well, enjoy - hopefully *fingers crossed* xD Please review and tell me what you think!


Her hands scrambled in the pot, nails scratching marks into the wood. Her dark hair fell over her face as her frowning face flickered with emotions. Panic, desperation, fear, and finally despair.

Surely there was more! She had always been so careful. Waste not, want not was her motto – so why was the pot empty? She didn't just hope there was more, she needed more. Because if this was it...

She shook her head and sat heavily on a chair. Her gaze drifted out of the window; Cenreds men were growing impatient. They wouldn't wait, and they wouldn't take no for answer. If they didn't get what they wanted, they'd take it by force. She sighed, blinking away the moisture in her eyes. It had already been a hard year, raised taxes certainly didn't bode well. All they could do was hope for a better harvest than was expected.

"Hunith," a soft voice called. She looked over, taking in the young figure of Halk. His light hair was cut short and uneven, his blue eyes crinkled with worry. One day, Hunith reflected, he would grow into a fine man. Maybe even a leader.

"I'm coming," she replied just as softly. She scooped up the coins on the table, and reluctantly placed three copper coins back in the pot. Standing up with a heavy heart, she walked over to the door where Halk was waiting. They smiled briefly at each other, before Hunith passed him and stepped outside.

The sun was bright; it had to be the brightest she'd seen it all year. As it warmed her face, she felt herself relax. Good weather was what they needed – what the crop needed. Not forgetting her task, she strode over to the soldiers with her head held high. There were six of them, all with the same look of scorn on their faces. One of them held their hand out expectantly. Before she could stop it, a look of disgust flashed across her face. She brought her hand up slowly and watched regretfully as the coins fell from her hand into his. The caught the light as they spun, glittering tauntingly. She paused for a moment, curtseying a tiny bit, then spun on her heel to walk away, but the soldiers other hand snaked out and held her wrist. Yanked to a stop, Hunith had no choice but to look up at him.

"Is this all of it?" he asked, breathing heavily. She only now noticed the livid scar that ran in a dead straight line across his neck and she faltered for a moment, breathing in deeply. His breath smelled of rotting fruit and dead animals. Hunith couldn't help but wrinkle her nose.

"Yes," she said.

The soldier glanced around him, at his comrades, as if for reassurance, then back at her. "I don't believe you,"

"It's all there, check it if you want," as soon as she said it, she realized the trap she had just walked into. Her heart beat wildly and fought to keep fear from breaking out onto her face. The soldier released her wrist as he shifted the coins in his hand.

"You know, I think I will," he sneered. He and his companions were all smirking. With an agonizing slowness, he started counting the coins, one by one. Taking the opportunity, Hunith sent a pleading glance to all the villagers watching. One by one, they'd all undergone the same treatment. All of them powerless to stop it. A cloud moved over the sun, abruptly darkening the mood. Hunith shivered in the sudden cold. Her eyes moved hesitantly to look at her tormentors face.

"Oh dear," he said. "Looks like we're a bit short,"

Hunith's eyes widened. "But it's there!" she cried. "It's all there!"

"Are you questioning me?" 'Scar-face' flexed his muscles, as if in preparation.

"N-no,"

"It sounded like it."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it!" Hunith cowered away, expecting a strike. She wasn't disappointed. A hand hit her face so hard and fast, she fell to the floor. She started to rise again, but a foot on her back stopped her. Tears started to leak out of her eyes.

"Please, it's all I have. We need to survive, please," her cries were desperate, but they fell on deaf ears. The soldiers had surrounded her and for the first time, they looked alive. She knew what was coming, tried to curl into a ball. A hand grabbed her hair, pulling her head back.

"This is what happens when you try to cheat us," a new voice snarled in her ear. She whimpered, trying to squirm away. In the corner of her vision she saw a villager step forward, hands clenched. She sent a pleading glance in their direction; whatever they did, they would only make it worse. Briefly, she hoped the message had got across, before the first fist hit her.

The next few minutes faded into a blur of pain. It was relative, she realized. Pain was relative. When each blow came, she thought it couldn't get any worse, that she couldn't feel anymore. But it did. She bit back her screams as much as she could, but let her tears fall to the ground. There was no shame in crying. Time seemed to stop, seconds felt like eternity. The world around her disappeared. All that existed was her, and Pain. Pain, a tormentor like no other. The obliterator. Because when you felt pain like this, you could feel nothing else.

It took her a while to realize that the beating had stopped. She was in a state of semi-consciousness, only half aware of the things going on a round her. She wasn't sure if the pain was worse now or better, or if it was still the same. She could taste blood in her mouth, the familiar taste almost comforting. Somewhere, a voice in the back of her mind screamed at her. It shouldn't be like this! It shouldn't be familiar, it shouldn't be comforting. Vaguely, she could feel strong hands sliding underneath her, someone murmuring soothingly. She tried to smile, to say that she was okay, but now it was a fight to stay awake. Her eyes were closed and it would be oh so easy to just fall into that black pit on the edge of her mind. The black seemed so comforting, it seemed to offer an escape from this prison she was in. She knew there was something wrong with going into that pit, but for the life of her, she couldn't remember what. She tried to fight it, but how could she fight when she didn't know why she was fighting? The darkness was closer now, it was be so easy to just...

She fell, the dark taking her lovingly down.