A/N: Hello all-I'm revisiting this story after a long time. I wrote this when I was younger and it clearly shows in my writing. Now I'm trying to revisit some things, and correct grammar and a little bit of plot. Hope you enjoy!

Chapter One: Barbaric

I sit with my back against the door, my heart pounding. The beating is so loud that I can hardly hear anything except the blood rushing through my ears. I had barricaded all my furniture against the door and pushed my cabinets over the window. The room is dark and hot. Outside, I could hear the screams and cries of innocent villagers being slaughtered and mercilessly killed.

The barbarians rarely ever raid the northwestern villages, but when they do, they leave the streets bloodied and the houses bare. They pillage and plunder, rape and murder…and there are even tales of them taking their female victims alive, and back to their kingdom to become sex slaves in their beastly king's harem.

Three loud knocks on my door came just then. Startled, I cried out in fear. "My lady!" she calls. It is only my handmaiden, Angelina. I breathe a sigh of relief. Quickly scrambling to my feet, I unlatch the door and push away the boudoir and chairs stacked against it. Angelina stumbles in, sweaty and out of breath. On her face is a look of pure horror and agony. "Your father's carriage was attacked on the road! Your parents have been killed!"

I cover my mouth with a sweaty hand, tears immediately welling in my eyes. "God please…say it isn't true."

"Please, I beg you believe me!" Angelina rushes to my side and kneels. She takes my hand as tears stream down her face. "I saw it happen. They killed the driver and shot flaming arrows in through the doors. The screams, my lady, oh, the screams…"

I snatch my hand away from Angelina as tears fall down my face. I stifle a sob as I run to the window. I open it and throw back the curtains, seeing smoke rising from the houses in the distance. I have no brothers nor sisters—those beasts have killed the only family I had left. I can hear the faint sounds of terrified screams and smell death in the hot summer air. "Edward?" I barely manage to get out.

"I know nothing of him," Angelina says forlornly. "King Aro has sent word for troops to secure the northwestern border. He may be with them."

My Edward, my love. He is a rich nobleman who commands a large rank of the King's army. My father had secured a match for me due to his friendship with Edward's own father, Lord Cullen. He courted me for a week before professing his love for me and deep desire for me to be his wife. Now, I am without a family and without wealth—now, I am not even sure if my betrothed is alive.

The sounds of battle cries and splintering wood breaks me from my stunned trance as a band of barbarians invades the house next door. Angelina is a sobbing mess on the ground. I yank her up by the arm, forced into action by a rush of adrenaline. "Get up!" I yell at her, violently wiping the tears from my face. "We have to move."

I throw open my bedroom door, only to hear the screams of servants below pierce my ears. The barbarians have busted down the door and were raiding the first floor of my family home. "Oh god," I whisper shakily as I try to muster all of the courage I still have left in my body. "The back door. The back door!"

Angelina sobs loudly as she hears the gruesome squishing sound of a spear piercing soft flesh. She struggles to keep up. I rush to the back door of the house and run into the streets, Angelina following close behind. It is pure chaos.

The smell of death and boiling blood lingers in the sticky air. The square is littered with dead bodies; men, women and children alike. Debris from wrecked bazaars and merchant stands floats aimlessly in the air. I cover my nose to block out the rotten scent of decomposition and try my hardest not to cry.

I grasp Angelina's hand and give a strong squeeze to let the girl know that I am there. I am horrified, utterly heartbroken; but I have no time to sit and ponder my woes. Survival is the only thing on my mind. I tug Angelina into the forest and we run farther and farther away from my destroyed little village of Forks. She trips and stumbles over shrubbery. "Get up!" I harshly whisper. Tears are streaming down her face. "What is wrong with you?"

I care not that my tone is mean and insensitive. Angelina is the only thing close to family that I have left. I cannot bear to lose her as well. We run, and we run, and we don't look back.

Life as I knew it, is gone. My mother and father lay dead in a burning carriage ruin. The place I call home has been destroyed. My friends, the villagers I grew up with…slaughtered mercilessly in the streets. My jewels, my riches, stolen. My betrothed gone, and I know not if I should ever see him again. I choke on my tears.

Dogs howling in the background snap me out of my trance. The sound of shouts echoes from somewhere near us. Gasping, I pull Angelina to a tall patch of ferns growing by a tree. "Get down," I tell her. "Make no sound."

We settle in the dirt and I clamp a hand over Angelina's mouth to stifle her whimpering. I peer through the leaves at my surroundings. Much to my horror, the barking and the voices seem to be coming closer and closer.

"We will die," Angelina whispers. Her whole body shakes beneath my embrace.

"No," I tell her. "They shan't find us."

"I'm afraid to die, my lady," she tells me. "I'm scared of the dark."

Her words prick tears at my eyes. I squeeze them shut and bury my face in the crook of her shoulder. "I'm going to protect us, Angelina. I promise." I pull the pin from my hair and inspect the sharp tip of it. It's the only weapon I have, and I intend to use it if need be.

The dogs howl louder. My heart rate quickens and I begin to breathe heavily. The barbarians use their wolf-like dogs for hunting prey. I'd heard stories of barbarians letting them loose on innocent people. They would laugh and spectate as their "pets" ripped the flesh off civilian bones. Footsteps near us and I can now hear what the voices say.

"Three Horses!" A voice calls out. They speak in their language, a thick and guttural dialect. The dogs on the barbarian's leash are going wild. They bark madly, tugging at their restraints. They point in our very direction. The barbarians are dressed in nothing but a loin cloth. Blood is painted in symbols over their muscled bodies. They wear human scalps around their waist, and necklaces of human teeth. They carry swords with curved blades, which they use to gut their victims and enemies with ease.

I can hear Angelina begin to whisper prayers. The second barbarian comes into view. "Drinks of Waterfall," the one called Three Horses acknowledges the other. "Palefaces."

The dogs bark and howl. Drinks of Waterfall ties them to a tree. The other, Three Horses, approaches our hiding spot slowly. I begin to join Angelina in prayer. I stay as still as possible to try and avoid contact with the rough hand and cease my noise, hopelessly thinking that perhaps they'd leave.

I am so very wrong.

Angelina shrieks as a rough hand grabs a fistful of her soft, black hair and yanks her from the spot. I can barely think as my arm is roughly grabbed and yanks me from my hiding spot as well. I lash out fiercely, swinging my sharp pin in any direction. I catch the skin of the one called Three Horses, dragging a deep cut across the barbarian's chest. He cries out in pain. Wrestling me to the ground, he forces the pin from my hand and places his hand around my throat. I thrash violently in the dirt, clawing at his face, prying at his hands. My efforts are meek as he easily overpowers me.

I feel the life draining from my body. My world begins to fade as my lungs struggle for air. And soon, I am enveloped in blackness.

0o0o0o0o

I am moving.

My body falls into a steady rhythm of shifting up and down. As I slowly come to, I realize I'm being carried. I've been thrown over the shoulder of a strong and tall man. My wrists around bound and so are my feet. My head feels dizzy and my vision is unclear.

The smell of cooking meat wafts through the air. Music is playing; it sounds triumphant. Like a war had just been won.

I blink my eyes a few times and lift my head weakly. Women dressed in animal skins weave baskets by the river, while little naked babies splash in the water. Skinned rabbits are cooking over a fire to the left. A fat man with his face painted in blood bangs on a drum and hollers things I can't understand.

I groan. It's hard to keep my eyes open. I'm weak and I have no knowledge of where I am, or what has happened to me. A thought passes to Angelina. A deep sorrow fills the pit of my stomach as it occurs to me that she could be dead.

Why aren't I dead?

I look around again, my head clearing the fog slowly. Stone buildings, tents and strange wooden huts form a village. They go back for miles—maybe this is a kingdom.

Could it be?

I heard the stories a million times. Women, captured and taken as slaves to be put in the king's harem. Beaten and raped, sometimes killed. The barbarian king was a beast, an animal. He had no respect for life, no mercy, no honor.

A long braid of hair falls into my face. Disgusted, I struggle away from it. The hair is muddy and smells of shit. I realize who is carrying me—it is very barbarian I slashed, Three Horses. My mind instantly begins thinking of escape but I quickly realize that it is hopeless. I know not where I am, or how far I am from home. I would be caught and beaten and perhaps tortured.

Three Horses carries me over a drawbridge that lays over a freshwater river. I can hear many sounds echoing from the hall ahead. Music plays loudly, and I assume it is a victory feast. Oh, could truly be? The barbarian kingdom was one of stories. Never did I dream I'd see it for myself.

He carries me into the hall. I lift my head as he walks through. As soon as they see us, they begin to cheer loudly. I can't understand their words, but their vulgar gestures are enough. They trust their hips, wink at me, and expose themselves in public. They are godless!

The hall is littered with the beasts. They are dressed in fine cloth—cloth that they stole from my village. They adorn themselves with our jewels instead of bones. Crates of treasure lie open on their tables as they chuck gold coins at us. They raise their cups of mead and wine and Three Horses cheers as well.

Suddenly, he lifts my skirts and bares my most vulnerable area to the cheering crowd. The roars only get louder as I kick and scream. Humiliated tears run down my face as I thrash against him. He slaps my ass and the impact makes a loud crack. Gods, it echoes so loudly. I cry out in pain but Three Horses just laughs.

The humiliation luckily doesn't last long. He's carrying me up a flight of stairs into a dark and dank stone hallway. It is dimly lit by burning torches. The very first room on the right is where he dumps me roughly onto the smooth, hardwood floor. The room is vast and spacious. I struggle to maintain an upright position with both hands and feet bound. Three Horses stands from the doorway. The large gash on his chest is bleeding. The only thing that brings me pleasure is knowing that I brought him some pain. He stares down at me with his menacing black eyes before shouting something incomprehensible to someone behind me. I frantically look around me and am both shocked and pleasantly surprised to see a group of women sitting on brightly colored cushions, staring at me.

One gets up. Her hair is long and black, and she wears scandalously revealing silks—they all are. This must be the harem, I think to myself. Her hips sway seductively as she saunters over to Three Horses. She says something to him as she drags a hand over the bulge in his loin cloth. He smiles and bites his lip before grabbing her behind harshly. She playfully shoves him out the door before locking it behind her.

Her façade drops immediately and all of the women come rushing to my side. I'm terrified, to say the least. They take the opportunity to untie my hands and feet and inspect my wounds carefully. "You come from the Iron Kingdom," a voice says. She speaks my language. I turn and see a beautiful blonde woman kneeling behind me. "It has been so long since I have seen home."

I turn to her with a look of sadness in my eyes. "What is this place? What will they do to me?" I beg for her to answer. I need answers.

"This is the harem," another voice says. "The King's harem." I look to where the voice came from; a woman dressed in green, with bright almond shaped eyes and dark hair cropped close to her shoulders. "Where are you from?"

"Forks," I tell her. The women all stare at me.

"Oh, my," the blonde one says again. "It has been 3 years since they took me from York." York is in the south of the kingdom, just on the border. They worked their way all the way up, closer and closer to King Aro's castle. "Tell me, do they assemble armies?"

"You mustn't speak of that, Rosalie," a third woman scolds her. "It's treasonous." Her chestnut hair hangs in thick waves around her shoulders. She reaches a hand towards my brand-new dress and touches its red silk. It is dirty and muddy now, ripped in several places. "You look like royalty."

"My father was a lord," I whisper. "But I am wealthy no longer."

"Tell us your name," says Rosalie.

"Lady Isabella Swan," I reply shakily.

"I am Alice," the one with the short hair says. "You know Rosalie. This is Didyme, Emilia, Clair, Athenodora, Jezebel and Freja."

I look around as Alice introduces me to each woman. They all give an apologetic smile. They all pity me.

"We will help you learn to survive here," Didyme says in a thick accent. I recognize her as the one who spoke to Three Horses. "It is hard at first…but if you follow the rules, you will not be hurt."

A wave of nausea washes over me and I find myself wanting to cry. "I am to be taken against my will," I say. "I…I can't. I'm betrothed to a man in the village."

"He's probably dead," Rosalie comments. "I have learned not to stay hopeful. Being hopeful causes one to break their own heart."

Tears well in my eyes. "Oh no," says Athenodora, a thin woman with strawberry blonde hair. "Don't cry, my lady. You'll find you'll like it here eventually. You will get used to it."

I don't want to get used to it. I want to return home. I want to believe that this is all a dream, and if I pinch myself hard enough, I'll wake. Suddenly, the door flies open and slams against the wall. The girls are scramble back to their corners without saying a word. The only one that stays is Didyme, who stands by my side. Three Horses and Drinks of Waterfall step into the room.

Didyme puts out a hand and beckons me to stand. I mindlessly obey, terrified out of my mind at what might happen next. She takes my hand as I get to my feet, pushing me forward towards the two men. I look back in shock and the sting of betrayal burns me. Didyme's eyes are apologetic and she nods reassuringly.

The men grab my arms roughly and force me into the hallway roughly. I struggle weakly as they drag me up another flight of stairs and down another dark corridor. I'm too terrified to fight them off. Do they take me to the prison? To they take me to be tortured or killed?

Two large doors at the end of the hallway are illuminated from a light inside of them. Drinks of Waterfall raps at the door and calls to the person inside of the room. A smooth bass rumbles in response and Three Horses pushes open the door. They throw me on the ground roughly and I groan in pain as the breath is nearly knocked from my lungs. My hair falls into my eyes and I stay crouched, nose to the fur rug covering the floor.

The two men talk to a man that I assume to be the master, and I can only make out a few words. Tiger Claw, being one of them. I cannot see the master's face. I can only hear his voice. A deep dread festers inside of me as the men turn and shut the doors behind them. I suddenly am alone, with a man whom I don't know. It scares me to think that he might be more ruthless than the others.

I can hear him stand from the seat and the creaking in the floorboards as he makes his way over to me. I keep my eyes to the ground, not daring to make eye contact. My heart is beating wildly, and I begin to sweat and shake. He says nothing at first and does nothing. For a long while the master seems to stare at me.

The silence is broken when he speaks. "Will you not look at me?" My eyes widen. I had not expected him to know my language, nor speak it somewhat well. His voice was heavily accented but I could understand him nonetheless. "Some would think it rude."

Slowly, I lift myself to my knees and turn my head to gaze upon him. I am again, hit with another wave of astonishment, as I gaze upon the man's figure. His beauty stuns me. I had expected a beast, but this man was anything but. He was tall, nearly seven feet. His body was riddled with thick muscle and black tattoos swirled over his tanned, copper skin. His hair was waist-length and shiny black, and his facial features were seductive and dark. He breathed in, the muscles in his cheeks bulging as he clenched his jaw.

I gasp raggedly as he kneels beside me to inspect me further. He wears nothing but a loincloth and various northern jewels in the form of rings, necklaces and earrings. He grabs my chin roughly and turns my head to the side, inspecting my facial features. I breathe heavily, still terrified. His hands are the size of my head and he looks like he'd be able to crush my skull like a grape. He runs a calloused fingertip over the slope of my nose and down my lips.

His fingers trail down my jaw to my neck, where he inspects a cluster of bruises. "How you did this?" he asks me.

Shakily, I manage: "I was choked."

"Three Horses?" he murmurs, and I nod. He lets go of me and sits back on his haunches. "They are calling you Tiger Claw. You know why?" I shake my head. "You gave Three Horses a long cut. It bleeds, not stopping."

My heart pounds. I think that he will hurt me for injuring one of his men. He goes to touch me again and I whimper. "Please don't."

He stops. He stands up and looks down at me. "Get up," he demands. I slowly pull myself to my feet, taking in my surroundings. In front of me is a great hearth and a large bearskin chair. The room is vast and spacious, dimly lit by torches on the wall and candles on bedside tables. The bed is incredibly large, sized for a king. Black bear hides cover it and heads of dead animals are mounted on the walls. "Go." He points to the bed.

I look at him in confusion, shaking my head.

"Go," he repeats more firmly. "Go to the bed."

I shake my head again. "No. No, please don't."

He reaches around and unties his loin cloth, letting it fall from his manhood and exposing himself to me. I've never been with a man before. I want to scream and try to escape. I look around the room for any possible exits—but he's blocking the only door out.

"Take off your dress," he instructs me. He takes a step toward me, muscles rippling with each fluid movement.

"No, I can't." I back away, cowering into the corner of the room. He's going to take me. He crouches, seemingly amused at my behavior.

He cocks his head. "No?" he repeats, trying the word out on his tongue. "No?" He darts for me and I shriek in horror, trying to avoid his grasp. He's chasing me around the room and I'm falling over boxes of treasure to try and escape from him. I reach the door, with my hand on the knob before he roughly yanks me away.

He carries me, flailing mess and all and pins me down against the bed. I'm panicking. Tears are filling my eyes and I'm pleading with him to stop. I'm begging him to spare me and my honor. He lifts my skirts and struggles his way through my complicated undergarments. He eventually gets fed up with it and just tears them all off of me. I cry out in humiliation and cover my mouth in shock. He pushes a finger inside of me and I shriek again, leaning forward to bite him. I manage to get part of his shoulder between my teeth and bite down hard. He growls and clamps a hand tightly over my mouth, pinning me down and rendering me helpless.

My eyes are wide and panicked. My heart is racing and I'm saying silent prayers inside of my head. He looks back into my eyes again and crooks his finger inside of me, pressing against a strange spot that sends a rush of pleasure into me. I gasp in shock.

A smile flickers over his face as he repeats the action. Another wave of pleasure electrocutes my body and I find myself pressing my body into his hand. My reaction surprises and betrays me. Oh God, my body betrays me. That beautiful, evil man over me smiles with wicked delight as he pumps his fingers into me. He watches me moan. He watches me writhe. He feels me grow wetter and wetter. I can't help myself. I can't help the feeling. I want to escape more than anything from his grasp, but I helplessly lay under him as he brings me to the brink of a pleasure that I've never known.

He hoists his whole body on top of me and looks me right in the eye as he pounds his fingers into me with passion and fervor. I'm shaking. I'm angry and I despise him, but I just can't help myself as my hips rise to meet the motion of his hand. As I near the build up of ecstasy, he pulls his fingers from me abruptly. My eyes fly open and part of me almost feels…cheated. Cheated out of something that I don't even know about.

He brings his fingers to his mouth and sucks my juices from his fingers. I watch in fascination as his tongue laps it all up. I feel like I should be disgusted—but my whole body is burning and my sopping core is throbbing with want. He rolls off of me and I am left to stare at the ceiling in shock.

He has won.

My body has betrayed me completely. My mind is screaming, my limbs are on fire. What have I done? What has he done to me? I close my legs and cover my shameful sex. I refuse to look at the man who brought me such pleasure. How could I feel such a thing for a man who killed my whole family and destroyed my life forever?

"I will not bed you tonight," he announces. "You are budurwa, virgin. You still have much to learn, and much time to learn it." He throws back a goblet of wine and sits back down in his chair.

I close my eyes. I try to pretend that this is all just a nasty, horrid dream.