A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to my new story Briarheart! I hope you all enjoy Beauty and the Beast stories as much as I do, although this one will be a little removed from the tale we've come to love, the premise will be the same. I have wanted to write a story like this for a while, and was a little nervous about posting this after finishing King Thrushbeard, so I really hope that this prologue peaks your curiousity.

Don't forget to review, they help inspire me to continue. Also, I'm looking for songs to play while writing this. If anyone ever hears one that they feel is fitting, please leave the name of the song in a review or PM!

C.V

Prologue

My father had always told me that once, Ayres was a country teeming with life. Trees grew taller than even the palace turrets, and their leaves canopied the world below, allowing only the faintest glimmer of sunlight to pass through their shelter. There were no cities, or grand structures as I'd come to know them- no dark, depressing walls of stone to keep out even the tiniest blade of grass. People were one with the nature that surrounded them, able to grow the largest, most bountiful produce and use the bounty that nature provided t to cure even the most deadly of illnesses.

But the part of my father's histories that I always looked forward to the most were his tales of magic. How long ago, humans had learned to shape the world to their will. But as is usually the case with overwhelming power, magic was used too liberally, to the point where it was taken away completely by nature itself, leaving us to fend for ourselves against the environment that had once offered us so much. Instead, Ayres had become a dangerous, wild place unfit for men to live in unprotected.

It was my father's theory that it was at this time that we began to shut out the natural world with stone chipped from the enormous base of the Cloudwatch Mountains to the east, and now, there was no forest left where we lived. Only the cold, hard shelter that grey stone provides. We couldn't even grow food, and without food, no animals could thrive either. In order to eat, caravans after caravans were sent to far off countries, where the land was still fertile, by way of large, stone tunnels. The only goods that could survive the journey were dried fruits, meats and other things that were easily preservable, but not very tasty.

One might wonder why our ancestors stayed, why they didn't simply move on to better places. But the people of Ayres are remarkably stubborn, and unbelivably proud of the stonework they've accomplished. To them, the protection of cold, hard stone far outweighed the appeal of green pastures and edible food. It was more of an accomplishment to survive through adversity.

To my elder sisters, my father's stories were mere legends, invented to justify his never-ending quest for the strange and unusual. They loved the magnificent palaces and buildings of stone too much to care about my father's obsession.

But as a child I had always held on to every word he spoke of the matter, wishing vehemently that his stories could be true. As I grew older, instead of worrying over the latest fashions like my sisters, I was determined to, alongside my father, discover the last remnants of a world that was once alive and magical. Most of all, I wanted to see flowers, real flowers up close- not the cleverly designed prints on my sisters' gowns. I had so many unanswerable questions, like were flower petals really as soft as I imagined? And did they have a fragrance? Such notions seemed quite silly to the other people who lived in the bleak, grey stone walls of Mortar, though I always claimed they hadn't any imagination to speak of. But to leave the safety of stone was strictly forbidden, and if you weren't killed by what was out there first, you'd surely be put to death afterwards.

I wasn't the only one who was enamored by the tales of old, and some would even pay ridiculous sums of gold if they could manage to own a magical artifact from long ago,

It was my father's job was to procure those things. His patrons cared little for the natural however, flowers and trees didn't appeal to them in the least. Instead, they wanted small baubles that could glitter and gleam ethereally, and they would fashion them into jewelry that they could show off at balls and other fancy occasions. Unlike plants however, those sorts of artifacts were much easier to acquire if one didn't mind getting dirty. Often times my father and I would spend hours in old, underground tunnels, chipping away stone until we managed to reach some earth. Then, all it took was a matter of time, and we could usually find several items that could be sold.

Although there were other, more experienced treasure hunters like my father, none were able to sniff out the best spots to dig as well as he could.

It was hard but rewarding work, and even though it was a shame to sell some of the especially beautiful things we found, if we wanted to eat we didn't have much of a choice. Yet we made a fairly good living , and I always had food in my belly and clothes on my back. My sisters did not always have some of the extravagant things they desired, especially during the winter time, when the ground was frozen solid, and digging was difficult.

But today was a special day, and one that, should it go smoothly, would ensure many warm and luxurious winters to come.

My father had been offered patronage by one of the most prominent members of the Mortar court. Duke Grimsworth was a stern man, and although I didn't know much about him, I had heard that he was a connoisseur of the ancient and unusual. In fact, I was fairly certain that we'd sold some of our rarer pieces to him in the past, and it was clear that he'd been impressed with father's work.

We were headed to his manor now, riding in a carriage he'd provided himself. It was finer than any coach I'd ever been in before, and my sisters were enjoying the treatment immensely. We had all been advised to dress in our best gowns, and my father in his court clothing- which hadn't seen the light of day for at least a year.

My eldest sister, Dahlia, wore a dress so large the carriage could hardly contain it, the pale blue shade accentuating the blue of her eyes. Her blonde hair was styled delicately in loose ringlets and they hung around her face delicately, bouncing a little every time she moved to get a better look at the view out the window.

Our sister Zinnia, older than me by only a year, decided on a deep purple dress, that looked noble by any standards. Her exceedingly long, chestnut colored hair was pinned up on her head in a delicate knot. They both were obviously ready to greet royalty.

But that morning was the first time that I realized I hadn't anything to wear suitable enough for an afternoon at court. While my sisters entertained and went to parties, I was usually out with my father, so there had never been a need for anything overly fancy. As such, I was currently wearing one of Zinnia's last season gowns, that was to large for me in all the places that I wished it would fit me nicely. It was a deep shade of green that had faded a little over time, but there was a little embroidery on the sleeves that served to make it look a little bit fancier.

I had also attempted to do something with the mass of vibrant red hair on my head, unfortunately inherited from my mother, but it had refused to cooperate and so I resolved to simply braid it. My sisters were hardly amused with my choice, but I had never been much to care for appearances. Give me adventure over grooming any day- whether it embarrassed them or not. My father certainly didn't care, so I was certainly not going to worry about it.

"You are going to accept his patronage aren't you father," Dahlia asked eagerly, since he hadn't really discussed the subject with us at all.

"Well," he answered, his grey brows knitting together as they did when he was thinking, "I'm not sure."

Zinnia huffed in disapproval of his answer.

"How could you not know? We'll be at the manor in a matter of minutes!"

"Father, you'd be a fool to turn it down, you must know that!" Dahlia countered, visions of jewels and lace gowns filling her head with delusions of grandeur. I loved my sisters, but sometimes they had as much tact as a sword to the throat.

"He doesn't even know what the Duke is requesting him to find yet. How can he make such a decision?" I reasoned, earning a frustrated look in return.

"Who cares what it is? With the Duke as a patron we'd finally become valuable members of court! We'd have thousands of suitors! Don't you want to be comfortable and wealthy for the rest of your life?" Dahlia demanded, though in all honesty the thought had never even crossed my mind.

I still had far too much I wanted to accomplish before I would even consider such a thing.

"Did you know the Duke has a son about my age?" Zinnia continued ere I had a chance to respond to our elder sister.

"And you think he'll fall in love with you?" Dahlia scoffed, shaking her head so enthusiastically that her blonde curls hit me in the face. I smacked them away, annoyed.

"The fact is it is father's decision, and not yours to make," I said, interrupting them before Dahlia made Zinnia cry again.

"Of course it is. But father is enough of a man to realize that he must care for his children, and put their well-being above all else," she insisted, with a tone as honey sweet it could attract bees- and they hadn't been seen in Mortar for centuries. Sometimes I wished that my father would step into these conversations, and try to explain to my sisters that finding artifacts wasn't exactly the most glamorous of jobs, and that often times it could be very dangerous. But instead he said nothing, and I had grown tired of defending him, especially as we'd just arrived at the Duke's manor.

Although it was called a manor, it was more like a palace, and was one of the largest buildings in the whole city. Enormous stone turrets stretched into the sky, with golden embellishments reflecting the suns glow around it. The portcullis, an intimidating, iron gate, was opened as we approached, and when the carriage stopped, my sisters could hardly contain their excitement. My father was clearly extremely nervous, and so was I. I was worried that the Duke's request would be an unreasonable one, and given the support he promised should my father succeed, it was hardly unlikely.

We were led by a rather strange looking older man, who introduced himself as the Duke's valet, up a staircase into a large room that was quite open. At the end of it was a chair- more like a throne really- that was covered in a deep crimson material I'd never even seen before. And in the chair, was the Duke himself.

I'd never seen him before, but he was the most stately man I'd ever seen. His grey hair was finely trimmed, and he was dressed in clothing that would probably cost more than food for a year. I could tell he had been handsome in his youth, and as I drew close enough to see his face clearly, I noticed that his eyes had a certain glint in them that spoke volumes about his wit.

My father stood in stark contrast to him, his white hair had almost disappeared, and was unkempt. His best clothing was faded, and had been mended so many times I wasn't sure it could be called 'best' anymore.

The four of us bent down on one knee to address the Duke, but instead of staying seated and holding his position over us, he stood up, and bade us rise.

"I am pleased you've come Master Mills. And that you've brought your lovely daughters," he said, in a soft voice.

"Indeed Your Grace. May I introduce my eldest Deliah, and her sisters Zinnia and Briar," father answered, a little waver of nervousness in his voice.

"Such beautiful names, fitting for such beautiful flowers," the Duke answered, clearly talking about us, and not the flowers that were our namesakes. I wasn't sure if I should take his comment as a compliment or not, given the fact that I was named after a thorny plant, and not a lovely blossom like my sisters. My father always said that my mother had chosen the name on purpose, since though roses were beautiful, it was the briar that was most important as it protected the flower from being harmed.

Some of the Duke's servants produced cushioned chairs for us to sit on, as he began to explain what he wanted my father to find for him.

"I have received word from a food merchant, of a particular artifact that I wish to acquire for my collection. But as business here is too pressing for me to leave at present, I require someone with suitable skill to obtain it for me," he said.

"I am honored Your Grace," my father answered. It was quite a testament to his skill that he would be asked such a thing.

"Beyond the walls of Mortar, there is a great forest. The food merchants do not dare to enter, and instead, they use the stone archways and tunnels that connect Mortar with the rest of civilization. But one man insisted he met a woman in the pathway who carried a particular gemmed trinket that holds significant value. As it is the anniversary of my marriage in a month, I wish to present such a trinket to my wife."

My father nodded in understanding, but I was outraged. The Duke couldn't seriously be suggesting that he leave the safety of the walls could he? Especially with a story as strange and unlikely as that. It was madness, and I was just about to say so before my father answered firmly.

"I will find this woman for you Your Grace, as well as the item she carries, but I must ask that my daughters be suitably protected in my absence."

"Of course. They will stay here in the manor as my guests," the Duke answered without hesitation. I couldn't contradict my father in front of the Duke, because to do so would discredit him, but I was positively seething with worry. My sisters, on the other hand, were thrilled.

"Then I will go as soon as I make adequate preparations," my father answered, and then he and the Duke begun discussing how to bribe the strange woman to rid herself of her prize, and other equipment he might need to survive the wilds that man had avoided for ages.

I had long stopped paying attention though, as I was still too shocked to speak. I had no idea why my father would have accepted a task that he had always told me was far too dangerous to consider, and I wished that his intentions were better known to me.

After nearly an hour of discussion, my father decided that he would need as much time as possible to procure the item, and so he would leave the next day. We were to go home so he could make the necessary arrangements, and the Duke would have us taken back to the manor the next day.

On our way home in the carriage, I was so angry I could scream, a fact which was only perpetuated by my sisters' incessant chattering about what the next month would bring, living in luxury. It was as if they didn't care a stitch for our father's safety.

When we reached our front door, Deliah and Zinnia began to pack there things immediately, but I took a moment to take my father aside and give him a piece of my mind.

We didn't live in a very grand building, though we had all the necessary amnemities, it wasn't a very big house. My sisters shared a room, and I had moved into a small room that was practically a broom closet in order to have a little more privacy while I read at night. Leaving the candle flickering had always driven them crazy.

"How could you accept so readily? You didn't even take a minute to think before you answered! I hope you didn't let the things Del and Zinnie said bother you. You are a good father, and you don't need to prove yourself to anyone- least of all them!" I shouted when we had a little privacy.

"I want you girls to have the best. And you know as well as I do that times have been rough. This could be the opportunity of a lifetime, to explore the forest unseen. The Duke's assured me I will be adequately prepared, and I'll even have a handful of soldiers to protect me. You needn't worry," he answered calmly. I couldn't help the tears that fell from my eyes as I thought of the dangers he would likely face in the wilds.

"Father you can't go! I won't let you!" I pleaded, grabbing onto the sleeve of his shirt in a vain attempt to stop him. Deliah shot me a look from the staircase as she carried down a bag I couldn't believe she'd put together so quickly.

"How can you be so selfish Briar? He's doing this for us after all, you should be grateful!"

Even that I knew, in many ways, that she was right, I still couldn't accept it. My father was such a kind, and generous man. He would have done anything for us, I knew that. But I would have rather lived with less fine things than loose him forever, and I didn't understand why my sisters did not feel the same as I did.

Angry, and unable to tolerate any more discussion on the matter, I stormed up to my small room, and slammed the door shut, sobbing into my pillow. I had been alone for at least an hour, when there was a light knock on the door.

"Briar, may I come in?" My father asked softly from outside. As much as I didn't want to see him, I knew that he had resolved himself to going, and nothing I could say would stop him. If, by some reason, he was unable to return, I would always regret parting on bad terms. I told him it was alright to enter, and he did so, coming to sit next to me on the bed.

"I thank you for worrying for me child, but you needn't let my decision weigh on your heart so. I am a grown man, and perfectly capable of making my own choices without being influenced by my two fanciful daughters."

"I am sorry, but you cannot possibly expect me to allow you to leave so easily, not knowing the things I do about the nature of the Duke's commission. A story about a strange woman with an equally strange artifact in the Wilds is ludicrous! Hardly enough to go on for an expedition."

Father took my hands in his own, and stared into my eyes as he spoke.

"This is my chance Briar. To do something that no one else has ever done. Yes, it is a risky endeavor, but all things worth doing are. The Duke has promised I will be protected, and we must rely on his word."

"Then won't you let me come with you? I can be of some help to you, I know I can!" I protested, but it was in vain. My father shook his head, as if to say there would be no further discussion on the matter. It was all well and good to risk his own life, but he wouldn't dare risk mine.

"If I go to the wilds I am certain I will see all manner of strange and wondrous things. Tell me Briar, what shall I bring you, if I can?" He asked, changing the subject. I thought about it for a moment. I'd always wanted to see nature in its full glory, and the beauty of a flower. And then the idea struck me.

"A rose. Bring me a rose. Mother would have wanted me to see what it was I was meant to protect," I answered, and my father looked at me with tear-filled eyes- eyes which were full of approval and love.

I did not know at the time, that it would be the last time I would look at his face for three long months. Perhaps if I had, I would have tried harder to convince him to stay.