Krystal didn't sleep that night. She pulled an all-nighter, her body used to it after cramming for SATs and Midterms and such, so when the morning came, she was still pretty alert. Annore eventually collapsed into his pile of blankets and such in the corner, but the sounds of the forest, seemingly magnified by the thick walls of the tiny cabin, kept Krystal awake all night. She heard every howl of every wolf, and every chirp of every cricket.

When Annore awoke the next morning, he was surprised to find her in the exact same position he had left her - staring blankly at him from the corner.

Standing up hesitantly and stretching, he shot her an almost embarrassed grin. "Sorry I couldn't find better accommodations for you last night..It was late, and it was either stay in here for dance with the wolves."

She rolled her eyes at his apology, but managed to reply civily, "Who do I look like, Kevin Costner?"

He stared blankly at her. "I'm sorry, who?"

She shook her head, but her smile had vanished. "Never mind. For a moment, i..no," she shook her head again. "Never mind."

He eyed her carefully, glancing out at the bright morning, the sun twinkling down in weak rays to provide the early light. "No, tell me. Who is this Kevin? A friend? A relative from home?"

She handled a weak smile before shrugging. "Just someone I know." She replied lightly.

"You are close with him then?" He asked, curious. He was curious about her homeland - she was very very different from the women he had encountered. Women in his village were quiet and demure, but they pulled their fare share of work. This one was loud and bold, with a sharp tongue and gentle hands. And distrusting, he added internally to his list as she avoided his gaze. Very untrusting.

She raised an eyebrow at the extent of his questions. Why did he care again?

"I just know him distantly," she concluded, the tone in her voice evident she did not like the way the questioning was going. Changing the topic abruptly, she changed her tone to one of polite friendliness asking, "What am I suppose to do today?"

He frowned as he considered this, making his way towards the table in the center of the room and putting several pieces of fruit on it, taken from thick heavy jars in the corner. "Apple?" he offered, extending his hand as he continued thinking.

She eyed it warily, as if she expected to see worms or bugs or even worse, a slippery poison on the waxy surface of the bright red apple. "It's fine, I swear it." He assured her, trying to hide the smile in his voice.

She shrugged. "I'm not hungry."

He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't have supper last night, did you?"

She stared at him, and finally, a tiny flash of emotion sparkled in her expressive eyes. Unfortunately for Annore, it wasn't gratitude. More like frustration. . "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself. If I were you, I'd worry more about the state of my hair." Her voice was flat, but the words still sharp.

"If you and your friends were perfectly capable of taking care of yourselves, you wouldn't have gottan yourself captured. Now, here, take it."

He tossed the apple at her, while her jaw dropped open from the rudeness of his words, hiding his smirk. Apparently the prissy elves she had been with didn't respond when women spoke out of place- well, he was no prissy elf. The sharp message of the statement contradicted his smiling tone, and with deliberate intent to anger him, her eyes followed the apples descent towards the floor, only centimeters from her hand. It hit the floor with a thud, and rolled towards her, but she only stared at it.

"I'm not hungry." She said simply, tearing her eyes away from the now bruised and battered apple on the floor. Picking it up carefully with just the tips of her fingers, her eyes locked innocently on his.

"I think it's gone bad anyway," she whispered confidentially, gesturing towards the bruised brown spots on the once glorious shiny red skin of the fruit.

Slowly, his gaze turned from amused to furious, and he took a step towards her and slapped the apple out of her hand. It fell on the floor with a thump, adding more brown spots to the bruises already there. His gaze locked on hers, murderous, challenging, and he carefully picked up the apple, never lifting his eyes from her face. He leaned close to her face, so close she could smell the hideous stench of his morning breath, and spat on the apple, wiping it clean against his shirt. Some of the spittle got on her face and she flinched involuntarily. His cruel eyes watched her reaction as he held it towards her.

"Eat it," he ordered with deadly intent, no hint of a smile or laughter in his cruel, rough voice now. His voice was low.

She winced unconsciously at the fear his voice spiked through her, but was aware if she gave in now she'd not only loose this battle, but give him a lead in the war.

"No." she answered, his voice calm, though inside, her heart banged wildly against her chest.

Before she could blink, for the second time in 2 days, his hand raised up to violently meet her face. His rough calloused fingers were hard against her skin as he slapped her viciously. Her breathing increased rapidly as her head snapped to the side, stars bursting into vivid color before her widened eyes. Fear began to creep back into their depths, but she pushed it away, deep inside of her, and slowly, defiantly raised her head back up to it's position.

Inwardly, he marveled at her bravery, but his gaze remained hard as he continued to hold the apple towards her. Silently, she retreated back into the depths of her heart. This was no different from any other attack, she whispered to herself. There others were verbal, this one physical, but the pain is the same..in her heart, she began to cry. But she would not show it.

"Hungry *yet*?" he asked, his voice dangerously soft, matching the fuming look in his eye. Raising her chin in defiance, she clenched her teeth against the force of the blow she knew would come, before slowly shaking her head, matching eyes with the man she had been joking with only moments before.

"It's dirty and broken..as are many things in this cabin!," She hissed nastily at him, and with a burst of adrenaline, smacked the apple out of his hand.

The instant she did it, she regretted it, her now terrified eyes following the apple's slow descent and roll across the floor. Something snapped deep within the enraged man's gaze and bitter fear replaced the adrenaline running through her body. He raised his hand swiftly, but as she tensed and prepared for the blow, he decided against it, and roughly grabbed her arm, yanking her to her feet.

Shoving her towards the door, he didn't say anything, and his silence was even more frightening. Throwing her against the door with a shove, her body bounced off the wood with a startling impact that made her head swim. The door opened finally as he shoved her into it again, and she gasped as the sudden addition of sunlight blinded her.

Not hesitating, his body growing more and more rigid as he continued shoving her towards the main part of town. She tried to keep her head up, but he would just smack it down again. A pattern began to developed as she stumbled blindly past rows of cottages identical to Annore's, with quaint little windows, and curious faces of children peering out through them.

She would get up, and he would kick her knees out from under her, or slap her viciously, pushing her ahead, and she would fall. Then she would scuttle up, sprint for a few paces to get ahead of him before he yanked on her lovely dark hair and kicked her roughly round the legs, and she slipped down again.

Soon, she was aching, gasping for breath, and dirty all over from rocks and gravel clinging to her. Suddenly, an atrocious stench filled the air, and Krystal worked hard to keep from gagging as they approached a mound of garbage. His intentions were suddenly perfectly clear and she gasped as he glanced cruelly from the pile of trash, to her. Then with a demented smirk, he gave one final shrug and shoved her in.

Immediately, the stench began to overwhelm her and she choked for breath, struggling to her feet. Flies began to crawl over her fingers, and cockroaches scuttled over her legs as she rose to find herself waist deep in manure. She could barely breathe the clean air, but pulled herself together enough to scowl furiously. When she was standing tall again, Annore, standing far enough away that he could breath, called.

"Oh, bitch?" he snarled nastily, and when she refused to look, he shrugged, and tossed the apple as hard as he could at her small figure.

It hit her squarely in the small of her back and felt like a tiny boulder being thrust into her skin. Her hands flew instantly to her back and she could already feel the swelling underneath her fingertips.

"You asked what you'd be doing all day." Annore called out, enormously pleased with himself for putting the wretch in her place. "Now you know. You'll be helping clear out the village's waste."

Her eyes burned with a bitter hatred as she stared him down, surrounded by piles and piles upon piles of apple cores, chamber pots, manure, bones with chunks of meat, stained fabric, broken chairs, and over course, the ever present bugs.

Several guards appeared from a good distance away, and Krystal immediately wished just for a moment she could trade lives with them..breathe that lovely air, away from the stench of rotting meat and crap.

Then she glanced at their faces and reversed her decision. She'd rather be in here than look like *that*. One of them, the taller, wider one, was scarred beyond belief. A chunk of his nose was actually missing, and one eye was painfully smaller than the other. There was nothing else small about this man though, especially not his muscles. They rippled underneath the dark cloak he wore, and a sword caught the light as he lowered his head in a mock bow to her, as she stood defiant. And what was that? Her eyes narrowed in disbelief as his sudden movement, a salute to Annore, revealed another weapon.good God, was that a *club*? An actual, factual, club? What was this, England for Christ sakes? With those little police men in cute hates who walk around with wooden clubs and viciously beat all the fan girls away from Prince William?

The other man was slightly smaller, though no less..uh..unfortunate in his appearance. His nose was enormous, and sort of reminded her of a ski jump. As big as his nose was, were as small as his eyes were. They were beady, black little pointed things. His mouth, a snarling, dirty mouth, formed into a horrible little smirk when his eyes laid on her and for a moment she froze. She tuned back into to what Annore had been saying, and her heart fell. "This is Luthro," he said with a terrifying smirk and nod towards the huge dude. "and Worti. They'll..eh..make sure you complete your task accordingly."

And then he left here there.

Luthro grinned and stretched out his arms, his knuckles cracking. "Come on, girl!" he barked, grinning insanely. "Put those buns to good use!"