Sorry for the wait, I've been really busy. Something I just wanted to say: this fic is AU, but I don't know how AU. It is mainly AU because of the sequel I have planned. Also, this is mainly a prequel, something I wanted to write before I got to the second part of the story. So, yeah. Carry on. Read. Review. Pretty please?

She woke. At first, she couldn't tell. She didn't know if she was dead or alive, awake or asleep. The world around her was a fuzzy white, but she didn't know if she was actually seeing it, or if it was just in her mind. She tried to look about her, but didn't know if she actually managed it. Because she couldn't feel herself.

It was eerie feeling of being suspended in the air, being weightless, with no body. Just... her. Her soul, her essence. A feeling of nothing. Time didn't seem to exist, seconds seem to last an eternity, but eternity seemed to last a second. She didn't know when her senses started coming back to her, only that she suddenly seemed to be able to hear things.

She could hear wind. It was howling what sounded like a gale, but she couldn't feel it. That meant she must be inside. There was also the soft crackling of a fire. A soft clacking of shoes on wood as someone walked across the room. At one point, a burst of coughing. Slowly, ever so slowly,she started to feel again. A warmth from the fire. The lumps digging into her back from a mattress. And the pain.

It wasn't as bad as she thought it should be; she had imagined being beaten would hurt more. The worst pains were coming from her ribs. Maybe she had broken one, she mused. Her lips felt swollen, and it was hard to breathe through her nose. She clenched her hand, just to make sure it was still there. Then she opened her eyes.

It wasn't too bright. It was the half-light you got from having a few candles and a fire going on a dark night. She was staring up at a ceiling. Wooden beams, crossing each other. A flat roof, this was one of the older houses in the village. She turned her head, to look around, and couldn't help but groan. It might be less pain than she thought it would be, but by the gods, that hurt.

There was a startled cry, then someone was walking over to her. From her new view, she could see a long, mud brown skirt, covering a pair of legs whose feet were wearing sensible, flat, leather shoes. A description of almost any peasant in the world.

"Hunith," a soft voice murmured. A voice she recognised... her tired brain stuggled to make connections. An image came into her head of a tall woman with short, black hair, covered in beads. "Hunith," the woman said again. This time, she managed to answer.

"Where am I?" she asked, her voice barely more than a whisper. She winced as the pain attacked once more.

"You're in my house, Hunith, it's me, Enda."

Enda. The name struck a chord in her mind and she remembered her. Enda; the healer, the dark skinned foreigner. She strained her eyes so that she could look at her face. Dark eyes the colour of chocolate looked down at her with concern. She smiled faintly.

"How long?" she asked, not having the energy to structure a full sentence.

"Two days. You had a small fever. You woke once, I doubt you'll remember, but I gave you something to help you sleep." Enda replied, understanding what she meant.

"The soldiers?"

There was a pause. Hunith closed her eyes in resignation.

"After they stopped the... beating, they searched your house. I don't know what they took, but it'll take a while to repair the place."

Along with the worry and despair, Hunith could feel guilt gripping her. Ealdor was a small village; everyone had to help with everything. They were all ready going to have a poor harvest, now the villagers would be divided between helping one of their own and having food to survive the next year.

"How's the harvest?"

"Hunith, you should be sleeping." Enda face gave it away.

"It's bad isn't it?"

"Not long after the soldiers left, Canaans men came. They want a quarter of the harvest."

Huniths eyes widened. "A quarter?" she whispered. "We can barely get by with what we have normally," the next question came reluctantly. "Was anyone hurt?"

"No." A single word that brought a ton of relief.

Enda suddenly turned on her heel and walked across the room. She started doing something with the potions set out on the table. Hunith lay in silence, thinking. After a few minutes, Enda came back over with a cup in her hand filled with a strange coloured liquid.

"Drink this," she said. "It'll relieve the pain."

"And no doubt send me to sleep," Hunith smiled. Enda gave her a sharp look, eyebrow raised. "Gaius," she explained. "More than once he tested his potions on me."

A knowing nod, then Hunith took the cup. She raised it to her lips, then stopped.

"Sometimes I wonder," she said. "is Canaan trying to survive, or kill us?" then she drank the mixture in one gulp. As her eyes closed, and her mind became heavy once more, she thought she heard a reply.

"I don't wonder. I know."

"How is she?"

Halk burst into the house barely having knocked before entering. He slightly out of breath and looked as if he'd run all the way there.

Enda looked up from where she was stirring a pot over the fire. Her eyes crinkled with amusement. "She's not died from an unknown injury in the night, if that's what you mean," she said. "She did, however, wake up in the night. She seemed fine, if in a little pain,"

Halk sighed in relief. "She's going to be fine?" he asked.

"Yes."

Enda took the pot of the fire and set it on the table, clearing some potions out of the way first. She looked over at Huniths still figure, then over at Halk. "Still here?" she asked with a knowing smile. "Shouldn't you be with the animals?"

Halk blushed slightly. "Yes, well," he muttered. But he stayed where he was, he's eyes resting on Hunith.

"It's not right!" he burst out suddenly. Enda nodded, knowing what he meant. "Hunith is the kindest person in this village, why was she the one who was beaten? She didn't deserve it,"

"Does anyone deserve it?" Enda asked softly.

Halk didn't reply to that.

"You care for her don't you,"

"Well, yes, as a friend. She reminds me of my mother."

Enda's face immediately sobered. Elizabeth had been a wonderful woman, until her heart failed her in the night. In some ways, she and Hunith were very similar. Yes, she could see why Halk was so worried. He didn't want to lose her too.

"She'll be fine. Now, you'd better do some work before the sun sets." Halks cheeks were now bright red, and he awkwardly said goodbye, before shuffling out. The door closed softly behind him.

Enda smiled, wondering if Hunith knew how much she was loved by the villagers. She went back over to the table and served porridge into two bowls. Then she sat down in a chair and started eating,

her eyes not wavering for Huniths face. Halk was right, Hunith did not deserve this. Nobody did, but especially not her. Enda could swear that ever since Hunith had lived here, the Ealdor had been a better place.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that this year wasn't going to be an easy one. That it was going to be hard and long. She shook her head softly, dismissing her thoughts. Life would come and go as it pleased – there was nothing she could do to stop it.