My dear readers (if you even exist anymore), I decided to write this one-shot on a whim after being so heavily inspired as I looked down through story descriptions. I wanted to write a Beauty and the Beast story the way I see Beauty and the Beast and the way I find so many authors unknowingly writing about it. I hope you enjoy and please do review!

I can remember that day so clearly when Papa came home and everything changed. I was sitting on the hearth fixing the fireplace when the door slammed open with a gust of the fierce winter wind and Father collapsed in our house, burning up with fever and delirious. Father didn't mean to blurt those things out that night. If Father hadn't been so delirious and careless I know he would never told Beauty that she had anything to do with it, because no father who truly loved their daughters, especially mine, would have ever left such knowledge in their conscience.

And of course, Beauty did what any good, devout daughter would do. She went to the Beast. She saved Father.

Father was never the same again. Even when she came back to us and told us all the beast had done, the nightmares that tormented Father every night never went away and his mind was plagued with madness. Beauty said that she dreamed about us often, that the Beast sent her these dreams. If she had really dreamed of what happened in our household I do not think she would have been so willing to keep her promise.

Father would rather have died than to live day after day for two years thinking everyday could be the day the Beast grew tired of her and killed her; never knowing, always wondering. Beauty did not save him, despite what she thought. What she did to him was a thousand times worse that what any man should ever have to endure.

And this Beast? Who is this Beast? This Beast who is really a man, a prince, a handsome suitor in disguise, what sort of man is he to have been transformed into such a hideous creature that Father couldn't describe him without screaming in terror?

Beauty told us about how everyday he would ask her to marry him and about how each time it tormented her. She says that he was kind to her, gentle. How can that be?

As I look at her now, as she changes into some gown of unfathomable beauty, I wonder: why did she fall in love with the Beast? Anyone can be kind and gentle, even a beast, a true beast: a beast who seeks only his prey. If this Beast really was as kind as she says he was, why did he ask her a question each night that only put shame into her heart and tears in her eyes? Why did he ask her to marry a person, a creature, that she did not hardly even know?

She is laughing now as I put her hair up with her diamond crown. Tonight she wears only the finest and she looks like a true princess or queen or whatever she is destined for. She talks frequently about her husband and blushes each time she mentions him. She says that he does not even remember his own name and that he has asked her to choose one for him. She asks about the name "Edward", "Bartholomew", "Jacob", "Alexander", of anything and everything. She giggles about what he will look like when he undresses tonight, the night of their wedding night. She talks about how perfectly golden his hair is, how blue his eyes, how strong and manly he looks. I nod, not saying a word, and pinning her hair together. Finally she is ready and still talking only about her husband. She's decided to name him Albert.

She takes my hand and leads me out of the room. I look like a shabby kitchen maid instead of a princess' sister. My gown is a simple lavender frock without jewelry or ordinate accessories in my hair. I am a simple Iris next to a bewitching rose. She takes me down the granite stairs to where the nobles and servants and royalty are all gathered and where Father sits in a golden chair looking pale and sad. She rushes over to "Albert" and they embrace. He touches her back and holds her passionately and she clings to him as if he is the only thing that keeps her alive.

She has already forgotten about us.

She turns and points to me, smiling.

Perhaps not.

Albert also turns to see me and I see that he is terribly, terribly handsome. His hair is long and golden and his face is angular and masculine. His eyes are serenely blue and his lips are proud and confident.

I walk to them and bow. He smiles saying, "How do you do, I am…"

"Albert," Beauty whispers in his ear, giggling.

He chuckles back, ever the coy one. "Yes, I am Prince Albert."

"I am Iris," I say simply. I am no one but a poor merchant's daughter.

Beauty smiles excitedly. "No, you are Lady Iris!"

I blink confusedly.

"We want you to live at the castle with us, Lady Iris!" Albert booms in his great deep voice.

I smile weakly. "But I don't know anything about…"

"Oh, Iris, neither do I, but it will be great fun! You can be my Lady in Waiting!"

I smile, but inside I wonder how she cannot know what it is like to be waited on and tended to and looked after and doted upon. That is all they have done to her for the last two years of her life.

The music begins and Beauty and Albert dance.

I sit beside Father. He says nothing to me. He hasn't spoken a word since the day Beauty left. She didn't even notice when he came in. All she knows now is Albert, Albert, Albert.

I watch them dance. He leads her around the room and they laugh and laugh and laugh. The music plays on, maddeningly, and I feel faint.

Albert. Albert who would murder a man for a rose. Albert who would steal a beloved daughter away from her family. Albert who would use her to turn him into a human again. How could he love her? All he has ever wanted is for her to marry him so he could return to being beautiful.

He is so very beautiful, though.

I watch them again, twirling around and around and around.

Prince Albert and Princess Beauty. Will he become King? Will she become Queen?

Their steps are hypnotic. She always was an excellent dancer. So is he. They're going to live happily ever after, aren't they?

Are they?

I look at Papa. He's fixated on them. I see them in the reflection of his glassy, dull eyes; dancing, dancing, dancing. Father is never coming back to me. Beauty is never coming back to me. And it's all Albert's fault.

Albert.

I stand up and walk unsteadily towards the back of the room. To the side is a door that leads out into the grand hallway. I open it and step out.

The music is still playing. There is laughter and merriment resounding in every corner of the room. I sink to my knees and begin to sob. The guards standing near me do nothing.

This is no happy ending.

I sit there, tears making puddles in the folds of my skirts. When am I going to wake up? When is Beauty coming back to us? When will the days of laughter and love return without the wealth and prestige and jewelry and expensive perfumes? When will we return to the days of being a family?

Never, never, never the walls cry.

Never, never, never the people laugh.

Never, never, never Albert and Beauty dance.

Never, never, never Father's eyes say.

Never, never, never fills the castle.

I cannot stay here. Never, never, never.

I get up quickly, my dressed stained with tears and looking soggy and unkempt. I don't care anymore. I'm no longer a Lady or a Wealthy Merchant's daughter. I'm a daughter of the earth, who waits only on the sky.

I walk rapidly to the door across from me, hoping that it takes me out. It doesn't, instead it takes me to an abandoned music room. I leave through a different door, but that takes me only to a large study. I seek out another door and find myself on the balcony of the castle. The sky is already dark, but the stars are out and I can smell the sea, the fresh salty sea.

A staircase leads down to a long bridge between the towers, high off the ground. I slip down the steps and out into the main walkway, hopping this can take be to route where I could exit.

Roses hang over the bypass flaunting their dazzling fragrance, flaunting their dazzling colors. Roses. I hate roses.

I begin to walk across the bridge, slowly at first and then swiftly; swiftly until I am running with every ounce of strength I have.

A voice calls out. My feet slow, unintentionally. I hear someone coming towards me.

I stop.

"Lady Iris, wait!"

My hands grow cold. Albert.

He stops directly behind me, breathing hard after catching up. "Forgive me for following you, but I couldn't help wondering what you were running from? Did something happen?"

I shake my head, still not daring to face him.

He stands up and smiles. "Good, I'm glad. I couldn't bare it if something were to happen to you, Lady Iris. After all you are my wife's very precious sister."

He's overstating his affections. He and I have no relationship whatsoever and I doubt that he could care less about any of Beauty's family since only she was kind enough and beautiful enough to break his curse. The rest of us are obstacles.

"Iris?" he says softly.

I don't respond.

"Iris, something is the matter isn't it?"

He turns me around. I stare at him rigidly. He sees my face and feigns surprise.

"Iris, you're crying!"

I stare at him blankly, feeling my strength disappear quickly as I melt in his perfect blue eyes.

"Dear, Iris, sweet, Iris, why are you crying?"

Why does he call me these things? His voice is so very soothing. I feel my every resistance fade away as the tears start streaking down my cheeks again.

"Dear, Iris, don't cry," he smiles, cupping my face with his hand. His touch is so soft.

I begin to choke on my tears. His voice is dangerously calming. I continue to stare at him too numb to move, to flee.

He leans down and kisses me.

I don't fight, but I don't return his kisses either.

He runs his hands through my hair and down my waist and all through my back.

His kisses are sweet and bitter.

He pulls away grinning.

My face shows no signs of complying.

"What will you do with Beauty now that you don't need her anymore?" I ask him.

His grin remains. "Isn't the river beautiful? The one that flows beneath this bridge and to the sea just beyond the southern wing?"

"Are you going to kill her?" I ask again, not allowing myself to be swayed.

He says nothing for a time, walking to the bridge's edge. He stares quietly down at the waters below. Finally he says "Maybe."

I draw near to him foolishly. "You knew she wouldn't be able to say no all those times didn't you? You knew if you pretended to die from the grief of not seeing her she'd cave, didn't you?"

He turns to me again, still smiling, but his smile is genuine now

I step forward again. "How did you do it? How did you make her fall in love with you?"

He picks off a rose from the vines and smells it. It's a white rose, just like the one Beauty asked Father to get her.

"I gave her everything she wanted: wealth, adoration, servants. I gave her status, purpose, a companion, and most of all attention. It was so very easy and after all, a woman with such beauty is not at all hard to compliment. Beauty has always wanted more. And one day when I cannot give her more then I shall find someone new, someone younger and prettier and let her go…"

Albert stares off into the rushing river that flowed far beyond the castle walls.

He turns to me, smiling again and takes me in his arms. His kisses my nose, my neck, my naval, and my lips again. He pulls me close to him.

I pull apart. "Wait, before you do, I want to know one last thing."

His smile remains dreamlike and dazzling.

"Did you ever love her?"

He looks down, still smiling, and places the rose in my hand, before closing it and letting the thorns sink into my flesh. I feel a violent push at my chest and the wind rushes past me. He smiles at me and it's too late.

I'm falling, falling, falling.

I'm so sorry I couldn't save you Beauty.

I'm so sorry I couldn't save you from Albert.