Sihtric was cursed.

He had been cursed from the moment his father, the king, had refused an old woman shelter from the rain during one of his extravagant parties.

His half-brother Sven, who was as cruel as his father, was nowhere to be found in the courtroom. No doubt he was busy entertaining company elsewhere, as he usually did.

If it had been up to Sihtric, he would have let her in immediately, but Kjartan had not been the one to pass this kindness down to him. Whereas Sihtric had inherited his mother's kind, gentle nature, his father was known as the cruelest king Dunholm had ever seen for many years.

This cruelty did not stop at the castle walls. Sihtric was not his father's favourite, to say the least. Though he had been trained to fight, to hold himself high at court, his father had no love for him, or for his poor mother Elflaed, who could not have been more different.

She had been dead for several years now. Sihtric's memories of her were distant, but cherished. He wanted to keep her memory alive by trying to be like her in every way. She was the role model Kjartan had never been, nor had he ever cared to be.

Kjartan was as selfish as he was cruel, seeking to preserve his image and reputation above all else. So when the old woman hobbled into his courtroom that day, soaking wet and begging for shelter and food in exchange for a rose, he stood from his throne in anger.

"If you wanted food and shelter you should have worked for it, paid for it in money! Not a wilted rose!" he scoffed. "How dare you come into my courtroom and attempt to bargain with a stupid flower! You are not worthy of such rooms!"

When the old woman did not cower at the ferocity of these words, he was incensed.

Sihtric watched on from where he was standing beside Kjartan's throne, horrified at his father's coldness. He wished to speak up, but that would only result in punishment, so he remained silent. He had learned his lesson before.

The old woman straightened up with alarming speed for someone who had been leaning on a stick only moments before. She lowered her hood, and her face was the picture of fury, far worse than anything Sihtric had seen on his father.

"You are a cold-hearted man, Kjartan," she rasped, pointing her stick directly at him. "There is no compassion in your heart, none!"

Her eyes moved from Kjartan to Sihtric, who looked down at the floor in shame. "This is your son?"

She did not wait for an answer. "From this moment forth," she cried, pointing the staff at Sihtric, "he is cursed to wander this castle as a beast! You, Kjartan, shall disappear from the earth and from memory, along with the rest of whatever family you may have! Only his servants shall remain behind. And this rose," she said, holding it up, "has a spell on it. It can only be broken if your son learns to love another and be loved in return before the last petal falls, or else he shall remain a beast forever! We shall see if your son is as heartless as you."

"This cannot be!" Kjartan roared, "he is nothing but a bastard! You cannot do this!"

Sihtric felt sick with fear while Kjartan shouted and the noises of the courtroom drifted away as the old woman, the enchantress, screamed an incantation and his world faded to black.

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Your town was small and quiet, a place where everyone knew each other. You knew every nook and cranny by the time you had grown from a young girl into a young woman, having never left it once in your life.

You were also an avid reader.

The local library was your favourite haunt, so much so that the librarians all knew your name and you knew theirs. Every book available had probably already had their pages perused by yourself.

The spectacular stories you'd read had given you a desire to leave your town, to explore what the world had to offer, and you dreamt of adventure with every waking moment your nose wasn't buried in a book.

The villagers, although friendly with you, found your adventurous nature strange and as such you were an outsider to many things. You didn't mind, however. The longer you were left alone, the more time you had to read.

Unfortunately, your appearance attracted the attentions of the rich lord Aethelred, an incredibly selfish, narcissistic hunter, whose terrible manners were overlooked by many of the local women in favour of his dashing good looks.

One day, he approached you where you were sitting outside the library, reading as usual.

"What do you get out of reading all the time?" Aethelred asked, snatching the book out of your hands and examining its contents. At your shout of protest, he reluctantly gave it back to you. "It won't find you a husband, you know. Men don't like women who sit around reading all day-"

"I am not looking for a husband, thank you," you said shortly, rifling through the pages to find where you had left off.

"Luckily for you," Aethelred continued, as if he hadn't heard you, "I'm willing to overlook that if it stops when we are married."

"Excuse me?" you exclaimed, laughing at him. "I have no wish to marry anyone right now, least of all you."

"You can be as ungrateful as you like," he sneered, turning to walk off, "but you should know how many women would give anything to be you right now. The offer is always open, Y/N."

You scoffed as he left. Yes, you would marry him one day - in his dreams. He had made this offer many times before, and each time you had rejected him. Why could the man not take a hint?

Annoyed, you stood up and decided to return home. It was late in the afternoon and you didn't want to keep your father waiting.

Your father was a humble inventor, a man who loved his craft and put hours into his work. When you returned home, he greeted you with one of his inventions in hand.

"Look at this, Y/N!" he said excitedly. "It's finally ready to be sold at the fair tomorrow!"

You beamed at him. He set it down and you hugged him tightly. "Oh, well done, father!" you exclaimed. He had been working on this particular invention for a long time now, and his joy at finally completing it was contagious.

The fair at which your father was going to sell his invention was out of town, meaning he would be gone for a day or more.

"I'll be back soon, sweetheart," your father smiled the next morning, briefly kissing your cheek before he was off. Everything felt fine at first, until your father's horse returned the day after... without your father on it.

Panicked, you hauled yourself up on to the horse and rode in the direction your father had travelled. You let the horse guide you, until he stopped outside what looked like a dungeon.

It was very close to the old abandoned castle you had once read about, and it took a lot of courage to dismount and walk in the direction of the dungeon.

"Father?" you called. "Father, are you in here?"

"Y/N!" you heard your father's voice shout. You turned and ran, until you spotted him behind bars in a dingy cell. "I'm here, but don't come any closer, Y/N, please-"

"What are you doing here?" you heard a gruff voice from behind you snap. The look of terror on your father's face was soon mirrored by your own as you turned around and gasped.

You were met with the sight of a terrifying beast, standing on two legs and wearing human clothes, but what stood out to you in that moment were his sharp claws and the angry look in his eyes.

"He is my father," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Please... please, can I at least have a hug goodbye?"

The cogs were turning rapidly in your head as the Beast relented and opened the door, allowing you inside. As soon as you were in, you pushed your father outside and locked yourself in.

"I'm sorry, father," you said, your voice trembling, "but I can't let you stay in here. Go home. I'll... I'll come back soon."

Although, looking at the Beast, you doubted you would survive the day.

"Y/N, no-"

"Go," the Beast said in a low voice. "You may take your father's place."

Your father tearfully bade you goodbye as he mounted his horse and rode away, before the Beast could change his mind. Your hands wrapped around the bars of the cell as you wept, though you slunk back as the Beast turned to look at you.

"I will take you to the castle," he said, unlocking the door. You were too afraid to make a run for it, fearing his wrath, and so you walked alongside him.

As soon as you reached the hallway, however, he walked away and left you.

You watched him in confusion for a few seconds before you felt something tugging at the end of your dress. Looking down, you saw nobody there, except an old candlestick stood upright on the floor.

So you got the surprise of your life when the candlestick reached out and tugged at your dress again.

"How're you doing today, Lady?" it asked brightly. It... seemed to have an Irish accent, which almost surprised you more than the fact that a candlestick was talking to you.

"I'm fine," you said shakily. "You can talk?"

"Aye, that I can, Lady," the candlestick said. "Would you mind telling me your name?"

"Y/N," you replied, and he - at least, the candlestick sounded like a boy - chuckled.

"Well, Lady Y/N, let me show you to the dining room," he said, "your dinner's waiting. I'm Finan, by the way."

"Oh! All right then, Finan, lead the way!"

While you were very much feeling like this was all a big fever dream - a confusing beast straight out of a storybook and a talking Irish candlestick were not who you had planned on spending time with, after all - you had to admit, it could've been much worse.

While you were still unsure why the Beast had left you alone so abruptly like that, you could not remain creeped out for long. Finan was very good at making you feel at home in the great castle, cracking jokes you hadn't expected a little candlestick to be making.

Your mood improved even more once he led you into the dining room, whereupon your eyes roved over the long table covered with every type of food you could think of.

"Took all morning for old Mrs Winchester to whip this up," Finan told you brightly. "I think she's done a swell job. And mind you, that was with only Eadith and wee Aethelstan to help out."

"Who are they?" you asked, wondering if they were also household objects. As it turned out, you were right.

"Mrs Winchester is the oldest of us," Finan explained. "Aethelstan is her grandson. He's seven this year, little scamp. He likes to stay and help her out a lot, but o' course he gets bored eventually. So, he finds Eadith."

At the sudden dreamy tone in his voice, you looked down.

"Ah, ah, my eyes are here," Finan said. He was not on the floor, but instead perched on the edge of the table. You laughed as he urged you to sit down.

"So, who is Eadith?" you said, sitting and taking the plate he offered you. Though you knew candlesticks couldn't blush, it was obvious how he felt. He said as much too.

"Between you and me? She's the loveliest girl I've ever known," he murmured. "It's been seven years since she joined us, to work with Mrs Winchester, but she mostly cares for Aethelstan. That was only a few months before the curse struck."

"Curse?"

And so Finan explained everything to you. You came to learn that he and the others had once been human too, working as servants in the castle for a ruthless king and his sons before the curse changed everything. Turned them into sentient household objects.

The Beast was one of those sons, and you assumed he was just like his father. Why else would he be the one trapped in a monster's body?

"But enough of that," Finan concluded. "You tuck in while I fetch everyone else. If you're to stay - which I hope you do - you should meet them."

You watched him leave the room, lifting a forkful of food to your lips before you lowered it suddenly.

Because you could've sworn, just for a second, that the Beast was standing in the door. But as quickly as you had spotted him, he disappeared.

Disappointed, you returned to your meal, moments before you had company once again.

Finan had returned with a very strange medley of items (people?) in tow. Behind the grinning candlestick was a large teapot, a little chipped teacup, a feather duster, and a clock.

"Now this is Mrs Winchester and her grandson Aethelstan," Finan said, motioning towards the teapot and the teacup. Mrs Winchester clinked forward, Aethelstan following behind.

"I'm quite capable of introducing myself, thank you," she snapped, before her voice grew softer as she turned to you. "Finan told us all about you, dear. I hope your stay will be pleasant. We'll certainly make an effort, won't we?"

"Yes, we will!" Aethelstan piped up, jumping forward to meet you. You couldn't help but smile - he was so adorable, even as a little teacup. And you knew you would find a friend in Mrs Winchester.

"That's Osferth," Finan continued, gesturing to the clock.

"Lovely to meet you, Lady," he said politely, and you liked him at once.

"And this is Eadith," Finan said finally, indicating the duster, and you immediately detected the sudden gentle tone in his voice.

"Hello, Y/N," she said rather shyly.

You smiled at Eadith. "Hello. Finan's told me a bit about you."

"Has he now?"

"Aye," Finan grinned, "nothing bad, I promise." You chuckled to yourself, knowing it was rather the opposite.

The group sat around and kept you company during your meal, before Mrs Winchester, Eadith and Aethelstan took you upstairs to your room while Finan and Osferth disappeared somewhere else. Presumably to the elusive Beast's side.

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As the weeks went by, you found steady friends in all of them.

You spent a lot of time playing with Aethelstan, who might have been just about the sweetest little boy imaginable, and being scolded by Mrs Winchester afterwards. She was like a mother to you, and you couldn't appreciate her enough, even if she tended to be a little stern sometimes.

Eadith was around your age, and you would often spend afternoons talking about the adventures you had read about, and in Eadith's case, the many exploits of Finan, and Osferth if he had been dragged along.

Finan himself was more than happy to regale those tales to you, sometimes joined by Osferth if he was around. Your afternoons were usually spent in the huge library with Osferth, when you wanted some quiet time to read, or talk if you were in the mood. It was Osferth who told you more about the curse - more specifically, how it could be broken.

The rose. If the spell could not be broken by true love before the last petal fell, the Beast would remain beastly forever.

"A few petals have already fallen," Osferth said quietly. "He's not been in a good mood for a while."

You felt awful for the Beast, wishing you could speak to him about it and perhaps offer some words of hope to him. When you asked Osferth, he smiled.

"I can take you to him," he said, "but I can promise nothing."

And so you ended up outside the door of the study, where the Beast spent most of his time. It was also where the rose was kept.

"Come in," you heard the gruff voice say. You opened the door tentatively to find the Beast sitting hunched over a desk. The room was rather emptier than you expected, and it didn't take you long to spot the rose in the jar, kept on a shelf above the desk. "What is it?"

"I just wanted to talk, that's all," you said, your voice slightly shaky. Though you weren't as afraid of him anymore, you still got the shivers when he fixed you with that terrifying gaze.

"Talk? About what?"

He hadn't snapped, but rather he seemed genuinely curious.

"About you," you ventured, and his eyes, one brown and one green, you noticed, widened in surprise. He looked as if he was about to refuse and send her away when something changed his mind.

"Fine," he said. "Take a seat."

Beaming, you pulled a chair up beside him and sat down. He wasn't that scary once you spoke to him more than once, you supposed. "Can I ask?" you began. "What do you do all day?"

He chuckled, the sound catching you off-guard completely. "Not much," he said. "I'm happy to have company, at the very least. They're rather entertaining to have around."

He was very reserved, you noted. And... injured?

You looked closer at his arm, covered in fur save for a gash. "That looks deep," you commented. "Would you like me to take care of it?" You figured getting into his good books would help you survive here.

"I've already cleaned it," he said shortly. "Mrs Winchester hasn't seen it and I don't intend for her to. Besides, there's many more."

"Yes, but it still needs bandaging," you insisted. "Honestly, it'll get infected if you leave it like this. And... many more? You'll have to show me those too!"

"Not all scars can be seen, my lady."

At first you did not understand what he meant, but the distant look in his eyes told you all you needed to know. Clearly he had suffered.

"Well, show me the one I can see. I'll try and fix that one up for you."

The Beast reluctantly conceded and you offered him a gentle smile as he handed you a little box. There were bandages inside, and you carefully took them out and started wrapping them around the wound.

"Did you do this often?" the Beast asked.

"Not really, no," you answered, "but I know the basics. Which are to clean your wound and then bandage it up if it's as deep as this!"

It was a playful admonishment, but still, you breathed a little sigh of relief when he smiled.

"I suppose you're right," he said. "Well... thank you for this, Lady," he added when you were finished.

"Oh, I'm no lady," you smiled. "I'm only Y/N."

"Then I thank you again, Only Y/N," the Beast said completely seriously, and you started laughing. As you were about to say something in return, the door opened.

"Finan wanted me to tell you that dinner's ready!" Aethelstan chirped from the doorway.

"Well, who am I to be late for that?" you said. "I'll see you later, I expect."

The Beast cracked a small smile as you got up and left him. As soon as the door closed, Aethelstan turned to you.

"Did you see that, Y/N?" he said excitedly. "He was smiling! He was smiling, I swear! I'm going to tell everyone!"

You couldn't help but beam at the boy. He really was adorable. "He definitely was!"

Dinner that evening felt even better than usual, your stomach doing backflips for the first time since you had first arrived, but not for the same reason. Butterflies were swarming your stomach, and you began to entertain the possibility of something more that day.

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Back in your village, your father was tearfully trying to convince everyone that he was not lying, that you had been taken by the Beast and that you needed to be rescued immediately. Your budding friendship with the Beast, and indeed the rest of his companions, was unbeknownst to your father or the villagers.

Aethelred had first brushed it off as the words of a senile old man, as had many others, but when you did not return, he began to believe him. Not about the Beast, but someone must have taken you.