For those of you who followed and commented on the old story I want to thank you whole heartedly for the support. This fic is 6 year's past due and I finally found enough inspiration within myself and along with one of my best friends Ryan to totally rework and add a whole new spin to my story.

I will try to post new chapters daily.

Please read and enjoy this...WE put a lot of time and effort into this.

SWEN FOREVER!

Prologue

"I know I should have went with Morgan's group this morning," Tom sighed while walking into the shack, "all five of us only found four squirrels. There's plenty of rabbits out there." He set the single squirrel down onto the table and watched Cecilia prepare the berries she and his son picked while he was gone.

Cecilia stopped prepping the berries and looked up at her husband. "You know the price is too high if you're caught. We make do. Emma found a patch of unharvested berries in a clearing just past the stables. It's enough to make up for the squirrel for today."

Tom gave a half smile and kissed her. He shuffled over to the chair and sat down. "Walter's the one not eating tonight. He said he still has some bread he can eat." Tom said in a low voice. He sat in silence for a moment while Cecilia finished mashing the berries.

The shack door opening startled Tom. Emma rushed inside and exclaimed, "Morgan has been chained up on the flogging block!"

"You see Tom? That's why you don't go with Morgan's group! They were getting too bold!" Cecilia cried. Tom stared at the ground for a moment before getting up. Emma held Cecilia's hand as they walked out to the village center.

"Where's Chris at," Tom whispered to Cecilia, "He doesn't need to see this." He straightened his back and looked over the gathering crowd. He scanned the crowd with no sign of Chris. He did see Morgan chained up on the block with a tattered shirt.

"What happened to the rest of the hunting party, Tom?" Emma questioned.

Tom was looking around more frantically. Searching for his son and where the other four men were. "I don't know. I don't see them, only Morgan. He's a good guy. He could have taken the fall for the rest of them." He kept searching but was stopped by a tugging on his leg, Chris. He grabbed him and held him close. Cecilia leaned over and held his head against her leg to muffle the inevitable screams.

The entire village was now gathered around the flogging block. Everyone is wearing a worried and concerned expression. The group parted for Sheriff Gold who rode in on a white horse gilded in silver and gold armor. He climbed off his horse and a circle around the post. The crowd cowered as he neared them. As he walked his dragged a stick by his side and smirked.

"Wimbourne, you know the laws instilled by the Queen! All animals save for squirrels are not to be hunted! You know the punishment for defying this law, but you persist! The normal punishment is 30 lashes but this time this man will have 50! Watch and learn peasants!" Gold shouted to the crowd.

The sheriff walked around behind Morgan. Morgan sat silent with his head hanging down. Gold lifted his arm and swung down with full force striking Morgan's back. Morgan cried out in pain. Gold continued to whip Morgan while the crowd watched silently. Emma winced with each strike as if she was the one being flogged. She looked down at Chris who had his head buried into Cecilia's leg. She saw tears trickled down his cheeks. Emma overheard Tom say that's going to be him tomorrow. There aren't enough squirrels to feed everyone and those berries will be gone the day after.

Something had to happen. The village would starve if things continued the way they were. The law terrified everyone though. Every time someone tried to break them they were found. More often than not it was fellow villagers who reported rule breakers. If she went at night, she might be able to sneak off and get some food for the village.

Morgan's deafening scream stopped her train of thought. He was laying in a pool of his blood and tears. His shirt was hanging by a thread. The blood ran down the cracks in the stone surrounding the post. "That's only 40, you have 10 more!" Gold shouted with a grin.

Emma closed her eyes and tried to drown out the last of the whips. Each one of his screams were more desperate than the last. Once Gold finished he threw the stick to the ground and glanced around at the villagers. He scoffed and climbed onto his horse and trotted off. Morgan laid on the stone heaving. He struggled to breathe and coughed. A couple villagers picked him up and carried him off to one of their homes.

Chris looked up at Emma. She looked back and looked into his eyes. They communicated without saying a word. He ran over and hugged her tight. Tom and Cecilia stopped and saw Chris. Emma glanced at them. She gave a smile and tears formed in her eyes. "Please just be careful..." Cecilia mouthed to her. Emma nodded and pushed Chris back to them. She sighed and walked to her shack and picked up two of her largest baskets then set off for the Royal Palace.

Chapter 1

Desperate times

The night was still as she weaved in and out of the perfectly aligned apples trees. Slowly and quietly plucking apples from their branches and placing them into a basket she hoisted on her forearm. These apples, however delicious, proved to be dangerous in their own right. The royal apple trees were something of a staple to the court, a symbol of peace and unity. So with every apple she plucked she felt a sense of guilt, as it was illegal to steal from the crown, but desperate times called for desperate measures and the girl had to do what she had to do in order to survive. The ground was soft but unyielding underneath her booted feet. She worked quickly trying to gather as many apples as she could; these apples were needed to feed the starving village she belonged to. As she continued to weave in out of the rows plucking the pregnant fruit from their branches, she was taken over with a sense of nostalgia. A longing for yesteryear, dreaming of times that were long forgotten. When the land was filled with laughter and mirth. Instead of the rotten and desolate place it was now. Years of war between villages, kingdoms, and magical creatures alike, the land and its people were starving for the ideals of the past.

Taking a step forward, the thief continued to pick the royal apples. She felt greedy as she filled her baskets but knew a village awaited her. The thief stretched her arm up to pick a particularly ripe fruit from the top of the tree. With a slight tug the branch snapped and a dozen apples tumbled out of the tree. Startled, she dropped the baskets and the apples poured out onto the field and the thief tumbled backwards and landed with a thud.

A voice barked into the night sky, "What do we have here?" A strong arm lifted the girl from her spot on the ground, "Stealing the Queen's apples, I see?" said the gravelly voice.

The thief looked into the eyes of a man who looked like he hasn't shaved in weeks and breath that reeked of stale liquor. "Looks like we got ourselves a thief boys."

"Not a very good one," a voice laughed from a distance, "She dropped all her apples to the ground, looks like."

"What do you suppose we do with you girl?" The guard tightened his grip on the back of the girl's neck.

"Let me go?" The girl tried half heartedly.

"Fat chance you nit, I'm taking you to the Queen and she'll deal with ya's."

The apples laid forgotten as her hands were thrust behind her back and bound with a course rope. A burlap sack was yanked over her head as she was forced to march towards the castle's drawbridge. The thief took stock of her situation and realized that a means of escape was in vain. She could hear at least 6 sets of feet walking her toward the castle and the sound of swords clinging in the night air. She knew death was upon her, and she had to embrace the futility of her situation head on and without a fight.

As the party approached the drawbridge, the smells of the moat wafted up. The smell of rotten food and dead animals invaded her senses and stung her eyes. The sounds of heavy footsteps across the heavy wooden bridge muted her dainty ones. The sullen voices of the villagers were heard within. When they took notice of the party a dim hum hung in the air. The lighted torches played havoc with her hooded eyes. No matter where she turned dark shadows played with her senses. The crowd began to murmur, "I wonder who it is?"

"The poor sap." She heard, but turned a deaf ear to the crowd, as their words of sympathy were not going to assist her when she was in dire straits.

The huntsmen forced her to move forward from the outer courtyard to the interior courtyard. The air within hung with the scent of death. Coldness began to ebb through the thief's body. For everyone of the land knew the interior courtyard was only used for one thing. An early demise of some poor unfortunate soul who happened to cross the Queen. The punishment was swift and without regard to any protest from the crowd that was forced to watch. Her breathing became labored as the burlap sack offered little air. She stumbled across the uneven cobblestones and with her hands tied behind her back, there was nothing to aid her stumble nor break her fall. The coldness from the stone embraced her check through the burlap hood without prejudice.

"On your feet, thief!" the huntsman bellowed from behind her, then she was roughly brought to her feet and forced to march forward.

So march she did, fear heaving every step she took, but she trudged forward. In the final moments of imminent death she was not thinking of her demise. She was thinking of the children in the village that became reliant upon her. She remembered fondly of how their faces would light up with joy when she would return with her sack laden down with goods. Those were the thoughts she wanted to remember, but she couldn't. The thoughts running in her head were of the people she was leaving behind to starve, the faces of each person played in her head and the pit that had been growing in her stomach steadily grew larger and threatened to consume her whole. She was yanked from her thoughts as her shin banged soundly against the wooden step that led up to the execution stand. It was placed in the middle of the courtyard so that no one could hide from the sight of someone one losing his or her life. A muffled cry escaped her tightly shut lips but she regained her composure as she headed up the wooden steps. Death be damned, she was not going to give them the satisfaction. The thud of her boots against the wood, compared lightly to the heavy thudding of her heart against her chest.

The thief came to a stop atop a platform, the courtyard was silent, but she heard the sound of distant heels clicking against the gobble stone, the sound approached rapidly and abruptly stopped before the wooden platform.

"Standing before you," Sang the executioner, "a thief has been caught stealing from the crown. By order of the Queen, I hereby sentence you to death, what say you thief?"

The thief thought frantically, this is not how it was supposed to end. There was a destiny plotted out for her. She had people that relied upon her. Yet she stood silent, no words of justification could save her from her pending death.

She then was pushed down upon her knees and the wooden slates bite into them. The scent of death was heavier upon the platform. Her head was smashed onto a wooden slab and the back of the burlap sack was raised ever so slightly giving the executioner a clear path to sever her head from her shoulders. The sound of the blade being sharpened against the grinding stone could be heard and the sound twisted the thief's stomach into knots. The sounds of heavy footsteps of a well-muscled man approached her. There was a collective gasp from the crowd. The thief could only assume it was due to the fact that the ax was raised in the air.

"My queen, have you any words for this putrid scum, before I carry out your sentence?" The executioner spoke cowardly.

The darkest of angelic voice's rang through the air without hesitation, "Let me see the face of this thief," The Queen stepped forward, "I want to see the light leave their eyes." She said with a sinister smile.

A burly man stepped up to the thief and grabbed her by the shoulders, jerking her back, jerking the burlap sack off her head, a messy mane of golden blonde hair spewed out of the bag and covered the thief's face.

"Let me see her face!" The queen bellowed.

The hunts slapped the hair out of the thief's face revealing a set of sovereign green eyes, that found purchase with the devilish brown of the Queen. Distracted by the thief's piercing eyes, the Queen never noticed the executioner raising his blade in the air, nor the sound it made as it sliced through the night air.

As you can see some of the old content is still within the story, but I have edited to my little heart content and tried to make it better. I am sure that I have still messed up punctuation and sentence structure but I tried by best..

Please leave me some comments and tell me what you think of the new story.