AN: Hi all, this is my version of my own Beauty and the Beast challenge, which I am still hoping others will pick up and do. I'd love to see various versions of it. I know that I really shouldn't start another project, but this one just wouldn't let me go until I started it. This one unlike my previous fic is an Anne/ Henry fic...unless something unexpected and surprising happens which I doubt. Anyway, thanks must go to Regan X who helped me with the initial brainstorming when I first posted this challenge. I am now going to add that I really appreciate constructive criticism, so if there is something that you dislike or think could be improved don't be afraid to say it. I may not change anything, but I will listen and give it the consideration it deserves. One of my main reasons for writing fanfic is to improve as a writer, so that my original works have a greater chance at being published. My final message is to hope that you all enjoy this story. Cheers for reading.

Disclaimer: I don't own the Tudors and I am not making any money out of this.

In the middle of the sixteenth century, in the midst of England, a young prince lived. He had everything his heart desired and so he grew to be spoiled, selfish, and unkind. Then, one winter's night, an old beggar woman came to the castle and offered him a single rose in return for shelter from the bitter cold. Repulsed by her haggard appearance, the prince sneered at the gift and turned the old woman away, but she warned him not to be deceived by appearances, for beauty is found within. And when he dismissed her again, the old woman's ugliness melted away to reveal a beautiful enchantress. The prince tried to apologize, but it was too late, for she had seen that there was no love in his heart, and as punishment, she transformed him into a hideous beast, and placed a powerful spell on the castle, and all who lived there. Ashamed of his monstrous form, the beast concealed himself inside his castle, with a magic mirror as his only window to the outside world. The rose she had offered was truly an enchanted rose, which would bloom until his eighteenth year. If he could learn to love another, and earn her love in return by the time the last petal fell, then the spell would be broken. If not, he would be doomed to remain a beast for all time. As the years passed, he fell into despair, and lost all hope, for who could ever learn to love a beast?

April 21st 1508

The air was alive with the sound of laughter as two people, one a girl of sixteen, with an average face, but engaging eyes and the type of stance that could fool people into thinking that she was a beautiful woman, and the other a boy, but a couple of years younger, who shared so many resemblances with her that they could only be close relatives.

In fact they were siblings. They were two of the Boleyn children and as such were related to one of the most powerful families in England. This showed in the richness of their horses, if not in the richness of their clothes. Anne was normally very particular about clothing, having an extensive wardrobe and an eye for fashion, but when George had woken her that morning with instructions that they were going for a ride, he had also said that it would be best to dress rather plainly. Anne had begged him to tell her why, but George had smiled his mischievous smile and said that it was a surprise.

Anne had listened to him, and so even though the sun had yet to rise, they had saddled their horses and rode for almost an hour, until they reached a point where they had to dismount. This was so they could climb a hill, which the horses would have had difficulty on. It was difficult enough for the two of them, and Anne had slipped several times, getting grass stains, dust and stone all over her skirts. Eventually though, they reached the top of the hill, just as the sun was beginning to peek over the edge, and paint the sky a delicious pink colour.

Then they had spent several hours playing games which they had not played since they were small children, until exhausted from running they had collapsed in the shade of a tree. This was the point where George brought out a flagon of wine and some bread and cheese, which though not a very appetising meal, they ate with gusto. George became quite merry from the drink, although not dangerously so, whilst Anne remained quite sober, although her cheeks gained a pleasant pink tinge from both the drink and the earlier exertion.

Soon the morning faded into the afternoon, and they headed down the hill and back to their horses, which they had left tied but on some sweet grass, so that they could graze. They quickly mounted and were soon galloping off, but not back to their estate. No, George had other plans.

Soon a grand castle came into view. They had not been travelling on the road, but over grassland and so Anne had not recognised where they were going. She slowed her horse to a trot, and stared inquisitively at George.

"Why have we come all the way here?"

George merely gave a shout and spurred his horse to faster speeds, so that Anne had no choice but to follow.

He finally came to a stop just outside the walls of the castle. Up close, Anne could see that its walls were overgrown with moss and vines. It seemed odd considering that it was a royal estate, and one which was occupied at that. The heir to the throne had been living there since his tenth birthday, and not even the death of his elder brother had made him leave. Apparently, it was because the King feared for his health, and wanted him to remain out in the country where the air was fresh and clear. Anne thought that it was all too much though, because the Prince was not even allowed to receive any visitors unless the King gave express permission. Anne didn't know of anyone who had received that permission.

George had already jumped off his stallion and was tugging experimentally at the vines. Anne hurriedly followed and went to stand next to him.

"What are we doing here, George?"

George tried to climb one of the vines but it snapped from his weight. He frowned but then brightened when he saw Anne.

"You're going to try and enter this castle."

"Are you mad?" she asked incredulously.

"No, but the Prince might be."

"George!"

"Well, it is true. I'm curious about why he is kept all secret. Since I can't climb the vines, it will have to be you. Look there is a nice tree on the other side of the wall. It will be easy."

"That is royal land, George," she said with a huff and an upturned nose.

George grinned cheekily at her, "Come on Anne, aren't you at all curious."

Anne was curious, incredibly so but she wasn't about to admit to that. She was a daughter of a knight, and knights daughters don't just go climbing over walls into forbidden areas.

She went back to her horse with the intention of remounting it, but a large hand was placed on the stirrups and she looked into the mischievous face of her brother.

"Come now, Anne. I never took you as a coward."

Anne bristled. Accusations of being boring she could take, simply because they both knew it to be patently untrue, but Anne could not abide being thought of as a coward.

She looked at the wall, and saw that the vines did look like they could hold her weight. Experimentally she tugged at one, and felt that it was strong. She wasn't overly heavy. She thought that she could do it.

George couldn't stop the smug grin from forming as Anne kicked off her shoes. He always knew exactly what to say to get Anne to do what he wanted, and he wanted her to do something a little bit daring. She had been so down since Mary had gone away again, hence why he had gone through so much effort to cheer her up that morning. A little bit of an adventure would take her mind off of it nicely.

"I'll be back in one hour," Anne said as she tied her skirts so that they would not trip her up as she climbed.

George handed her a vine and gave her a leg up to start. "I'll wait here by the horses."

George watched as she heaved herself up the vines, her bare feet against the stone walls of the castle. He watched right until she reached the top and shimmied over the edge.

Henry sat by himself underneath a tree in his private gardens. It was a beautiful spring day, and the flowers were in full bloom. They were well cared for by the human servants of his household. He knew that those same servants did not see the point of looking after such beautiful things, for how could such a beast as he, appreciate them. He did appreciate them though. More than that, he envied them. They were beautiful and everyone admired them. He was a beast, who was at best pitied. He had once been beautiful. He was the golden prince of England; admired by all. A cursed life, hidden behind stone walls was all that remained to him.

There were no roses in this garden, or anywhere else on the estate. None, except for one. The rose that marked the passage of time. The one which had almost wilted and sealed their fate forever.

He didn't like to dwell on that though. Not on such a fine day as this. On such a day where he could go outside and not be reminded at every angle of what he and his had become, it was easy for him to become relaxed, and forget his troubles for a short while. There was no one around, and no one who would judge him. These flowers didn't judge him.

He'd allowed the gentle breeze to ruffle his brown fur, and with his back against the tree he'd slowly allowed himself to fall asleep.

He was woken suddenly by a heavy something colliding into him and knocking him to the floor. His eyes opened, and he found himself looking into the eyes of a brown-haired girl, with her skirts tied around her knee, and who had clearly just fallen out of a tree.

His eyes widened in fear, as he took in her shocked face. A girl! She had seen him. No one was allowed to see him. They couldn't know. She could ruin everything.

All these thoughts took place in a second, and in that time the girl paled with terror, at his hideous visage and she opened her mouth wide and screamed.

Henry quickly covered her mouth with one of his clawed hands. She struggled off of him, intending to flee, but he couldn't let her go. She would get him killed. This peasant girl, possibly even a thief (if her sneaking into the castle was anything to go by) would get him, a royal prince, murdered. He couldn't let that happen. He grabbed her roughly by the arms, and she kicked him on the knee. He let out a roar of pain, and abruptly let her go. She took the opportunity to run, fear giving her great speed. It was not enough. He bounded angrily after her, on all fours and pounced on her back, pushing her to the ground. She trembled beneath him and stared in fear. In his fury, Henry may have killed her, were it not for her obvious terror. Instead he picked her up, swung her over his shoulder and raced inside.

Outside the grounds, George heard the scream and then that monstrous roar. Terrified for his sister, he lunged for the vine but it would not hold his weight. He tried several times, but each vine snapped beneath his fingers. George looked desperately around for an entrance. He feared that in his effort to cheer his sister up, he had instead sent her to her death.