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Prologue

Once upon a time in Wales, there lived a handsome prince in a remarkable castle. He was famous for throwing the best parties and balls near and far with hundreds of guests wanting to join every time. His countless lovers were among them, but apart from that, he had no real friends, only dozens of acquaintances. He only lived in the here and now, and he was a spoilt, careless, arrogant young man.

One evening, when there was another ball held at the castle, there was a loud, ominous knock on the wooden portal.

Thinking more guests had arrived, Prince Jack ran to the entrance in exuberant glee. But he stopped short when he opened the gates for in front of him stood an old, ghastly looking woman.

“Give me shelter for the night, young master,” she asked.

Prince Jack crinkled his nose at her shabby appearance. “Be gone. We have no use for people like you here.”

Frowning, she held up her hand, and offered the prince a magnificent red rose. “I will give you this when you let me stay.”

The prince blinked in astonishment, and then, sudden laughter was bubbling up in his chest about this peculiar offering. By now, his guests had become aware of what was happening at the gates, and had joined the prince. Cackling like hyenas, the guests joined in the prince's laughter.

“I told you already,” he wheezed with laughter. “Don't bother me.”

A hard glint had appeared in his eyes, and he was in the process of slamming the door in the old woman's face.

A sudden blinding flash of light threw open the doors again. The guests screamed, and backed away. The prince stood there in astonishment, and stared at the old woman. Only that she wasn't an old woman any more but a young and fair sorceress.

“I am Bad Wolf,” she said, her blue eyes glittering with fierce golden magic. “And I have seen no love in your heart, Prince Jack.”

He gulped uneasily, and backed away from her.

“What business of yours is it?” he dared challenge her stubbornly.

“Every business. I protect these lands and its people. But you are not fit to lead and protect them in my name.”

She raised her hands, golden light surrounding her.

Real fear stole into the prince's eyes. “And now you want to punish me? How dare you!” He haughtily raised his chin.

A secretive little smile quirked at the sorceress' lips. Oh, he couldn't be more wrong. She had grown quite fond of this handsome prince, so, punishing him was at the farthest corner of her mind. No. She wanted to help him. But, granted, for him to change his ways, she had to adopt drastic measures.

“I will do what I have to,” she said ominously, and with that, she raised her hands again, the golden, misty light springing from them becoming brighter and brighter.

Then, suddenly, the light shot forward, and enveloped the prince completely. He screamed in fear and pain, he heard his fine clothes tear as his body changed and grew. His bones creaked and groaned as they were forced into a new form, and suddenly, his cries of pain were replaced by a horrible roar.

Terrified, all the guests fled the castle, screaming and tumbling over each other in their haste to get as far away as they could.

The prince fell to the ground, whimpering in exhaustion. But when the golden glow surrounding him bled from him, it suddenly exploded, and encompassed the whole castle. The terrified screams of the prince's servants echoed through the castle like thunder as they shared their master's fate.

“What have you done!?” the prince roared in rage, fear, and disgust when he looked down onto his hands. Because instead of human hands, he only saw hairy paws with sharp claws.

Begging, he looked up at Bad Wolf.

“Please, please turn me back.”

“I can't,” she replied not without compassion. “It's up to you to break this spell.” She cupped her hands, and in a burst of golden light, the rose she had offered him appeared, surrounded by a purple glimmer. “If you can learn to love, and, more importantly, if you can win another's love despite your appearance, you will be released. If you don't achieve this goal before the rose's last petal falls, you will stay a beast forever.”

And with that, the sorceress vanished, leaving behind tears and misery.

The years went by, but nobody stumbled upon the once bright and beautiful castle that had turned dark and bleak with the spell. It seemed as if all of the surrounding villages had forgotten that such a thing had ever existed. Even family and friends of the castle's servants who lived in the nearby village never seemed to wonder what had become of their loved ones.

Too scared and ashamed to venture out of the castle themselves, the servants soon harboured ill feelings for their prince who had brought this misery upon them all. They didn't understand why they should be punished as well for one person's failures.

Embittered and forlorn about his beastly appearance, about the servants' animosity as well as his loneliness, Prince Jack turned from the carefree, exuberant but thoughtless young man into a miserable, bitter creature that hated all joy and laughter, and rather basked in his self-pity than try to break the spell. Because, honestly, who could ever love a hideous creature like him. So, what was the point of even trying which could only end in hurt...

Chapter One

The sun had only just risen, but Ianto was wide awake already. Today, he would venture into the village to get some new books. The ones he'd loaned at the bookshop he had already devoured in only a few days since the weather had been very poorly. Hopefully, Master Sato had had a new shipping.

Excited, he dressed hastily, and left the house. Somewhere in the cellar, he could hear his father tinkering away already. Smiling fondly, and deciding to join him later on, he left his home behind. His father's house was situated on a small hill near the stream. A watermill snuggled up to the house, helping run the heavy machines his father sometimes worked on.

Beyond the stream, over a small stone bridge, the village lay, and it was just waking up. Politely nodding left and right, Ianto greeted the citizens. They were very friendly as well, but he sensed their unease when dealing with him. Well, not really unease per se, but he knew for a fact that they thought him strange. His father was considered strange, sometimes even as mad, because he was an inventor, and the people here didn't understand many of the things he created. His son was much the same, strange in a different kind of way, but nonetheless too different from the simple folk here to really fit in. As opposed to the other young lads living in the village, he was introverted and not much of a social kind of guy. When the others went drinking in the pub, making merry, he rather stayed at home to read.

He didn't really mind that he didn't fit in here most of the time. The only occasion he really regretted being who he was was when he had fallen in love with the miller's daughter some time back. Lisa was so beautiful and full of life, the complete opposite of him, and she'd liked him quite alright, but her father had been against the match.

Sighing, Ianto resurfaced from his woolgathering, and continued on through the village.

Arriving at Master Sato's bookshop, the master's junior partner sat before the store with a few of his friends. Ianto cringed, but then realised that the lads were not the ones who often gave him a hard time.

“Good morning, Tommy,” he greeted Master Sato's partner, then he nodded at the other young men gathered; Rhys who owned the largest carrying company around here, Rory who was the local doctor's assistant, and finally, mistress Song, a peculiar, intriguing woman who was as much of a stranger as Ianto but was more out-going and daring, and therefore much more accepted. Nobody really knew where she hailed from or what had been her life before coming to the village, but because of her mysterious nature, everybody was as much in awe of her as they did fear her.

“Where to, Mr. Jones?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

Ianto indicated the rucksack containing his books. “I'm here for some new books.”

“Then come,” Tommy said, realising it was time for business, and held the door for him.

“Give my regards to your father,” River called after him, and when he looked at her from over his shoulder, she winked naughtily.

Blushing, he stoically turned around again, and ventured into the bookshop.

Master Sato greeted him warmly while Tommy took care of the books Ianto was returning.

“Something new in?” Ianto asked in excitement, but Master Sato shook his head, chuckling.

“Not since two days ago.” His eyes twinkled, and he eyed Ianto pointedly, then the pile of books Tommy just checked in again.

“Yes, well.” He cleared his throat sheepishly. “The weather's been bad.”

“Exceptionally bad,” Master Sato agreed, amused.

“Well,” Ianto stated decidedly. “If you have nothing new, I just have to borrow... this one.”

He reached into one of the many shelves, and pulled forth a much read book.

“This one?!” Master Sato raised an intrigued eyebrow. “But you've read it already. Three times if I recall correctly.”

Blushing, Ianto nodded. “It's my favourite. Alien lands, a cursed prince...” He stopped abruptly, wishing he hadn't revealed so much, not with Tommy around who would only tease him mercilessly for having his head in the clouds.

“If you really like it that much, it's yours.”

Blinking, Ianto stared at Master Sato. “Wha... but, Master Sato, you can't...”

“No, no, I insist.” The old man pressed the book into Ianto's hands.

“Well, then, I thank you very much. Goodbye.”

Exhilarated, he shouldered his empty rucksack, and pressed his precious gift against his chest. After exciting the shop, he couldn't contain himself, he had to start reading already, so he only gave a distracted nod as Rory, Rhys and River called a goodbye after him.

The village was bustling with life now, but Ianto, never once stopping to read, expertly weaselled his way through the throngs of people plying their trade.

Until suddenly, a figure blocked his way.

Irritated, Ianto looked up from his book, and met the charming smirk of Captain John Hart.

“Ianto,” the other man purred. “How are you on this fine day?”

“I'm well, thank you, John,” he replied, and tried to step around John to be on his way.

But the brunette man was persistent, and once more blocked Ianto's way, suddenly snatching the book from Ianto's hand.

Ianto sighed, put upon. “John, would you please return my book!”

“How can you read something like this?” John frowned while flipping through the book. “There aren't even any pictures in there.”

Ianto rolled his eyes. “Some use their imagination.”

John scrunched up his nose. “I don't think it right when some pretty Eye-Candy like you reads. Only encourages you to think.”

“Your views are so modern, it's staggering,” Ianto dead-panned, and tried to snatch his book back.

Grinning charmingly at him, not even getting Ianto's sarcastic quip, John flung the book over his shoulder.

To his horror, Ianto had to watch it land in the mud.

Angrily, he stormed past John to save his book.

“Come with me to the pub,” John offered, suddenly materialising next to Ianto again, laying his arm around his shoulders while he had been busy wiping down his book.

Ianto looked at the other man with a frown, then, slightly past him where he saw some movement. He saw the Saxon sisters hovering near, the mayor's daughters, who were pining after John. They glared daggers at him for the familiar way John was treating Ianto. Well, as far as Ianto was concerned, they all could have him if they wished, he wasn't interested.

“Thank you for the invitation,” he reclined politely but stiffly. “But I've got to go home, and help my father.”

A cackling made him look the girls' way. “That raving-mad old fool!” one of them snickered, and John joined in on their mockery.

“Don't talk about my father like that!” Ianto snapped at her in clipped tones.

“He's right, don't talk about her father like that, my dear!” John immediately admonished the young woman who looked stricken at the reprimand.

“He's not a lunatic,” Ianto stubbornly made clear although he couldn't care less about these peoples' opinions. “He's a genius.”

Right that second, an explosion shook the earth around them, the bang almost deafening all those standing near.

Shocked, Ianto spun around, and sprinted in the direction of his smoking house, the cackling laughter of John and the girls following him.

“Father!?” he shouted, and tried to pry open the hatch leading to the cellar where the smoke was coming from.

The first thing he heard, making him breath out in relief, were colourful Scottish curses.

“I'm fine!” was the next thing Ianto heard through the thick, black smoke wafting up through the hatch.

He ventured down into his father's work room, desperately trying not to breath in too much of the oily smoke that obscured his view.

“What happened?”

More curses were the answer, and then he saw his father's latest project that lay in a sad burning heap in the middle of the floor.

“Oh. Father, I'm sorry.”

“'S alright, son,” his father said, now appearing right before Ianto through the smoke. His face and his silver hair were black with soot, and stood up in all directions, the white of his big eyes a stark contrast to his black-smeared haggard face. In that moment, his father really looked like a lunatic. Ianto cringed.

Rolling up his sleeves, his father advanced on the wreckage. “I'm not called the Doctor for nothing,” he grumbled. “You'll see, I'll have this thing running again in no time, and on Saturday, I'll win the first prize on the market in Cardiff.”

Nodding, Ianto sank down onto a nearby bench, watching his father work, fuelled by his never ending amount of enthusiasm. At times like these, Ianto was sad to see the great man his father was tinkering away in this dank cellar in a small backwater village in Wales instead of seeing him at his rightful place, as a professor at the Academy of Science in Scotland where his knowledge and talents were appreciated. But it hadn't been Ianto's decision. The Doctor had fallen in love with a woman from Wales and had followed her here. They had built a home and a family here after Ianto had been born. Even after her death a few years back, they had stayed. And no matter how much Ianto encouraged him, his father refused to leave this place.

“You had fun in town?” his father's question startled him from his musings.

He shrugged. “I got a new book.”

“Good, good,” the Doctor mumbled under his breath while expertly wielding a screwdriver to get his invention running again.

“Father?”

“Hm?”

“Do you think I'm... strange?”

That got the Doctor's interest, and he looked up. He frowned under the black soot covering his face. “Strange? My son? How in God's name did you get that idea?”

“I don't know,” Ianto cringed. “It's just... There's no-one here that I can really relate to.”

The Doctor raised a questioning eyebrow. “What about this John Hart? He's a good-looking lad, isn't he?”

“He is, yes. And he is rude, and arrogant... not to forget stupid... We simply don't fit, father.”

Frowning, the Doctor put away his screwdriver, and sat down next to Ianto on the bench. Comfortingly, he put an arm around Ianto's shoulders.

“Don't think only because I'm down here all the time that I don't notice things,” he sighed. “I know that you are unhappy here, and...” The Doctor bit his lower lip in contemplation. “Maybe it's time to leave.”

“Leave?” Ianto stared at him with big eyes.

“Yes. This place...” The Doctor looked around, his words encompassing the whole village. “It's as if time stands still here. That fit me quite right after your mother's death, but maybe it's time I stopped hiding away from the world.” He looked at his son with a twinkle of excitement in his eyes. “We could go back to Edinburgh. Would you like to see where I grew up?”

His heart starting to pound like mad, Ianto nodded enthusiastically. “Yes. I'd like that very much.”

“All right. We'll make a deal, yeah? You help me get this thing running again,” – there, the Doctor scrunched up his nose in disgust at his destroyed invention – “and after I've come back from Cardiff, we'll sit down, and make some plans. How does that sound?”

“Sounds wonderful.”

“Good. Then come on. Much to do still.”

Chapter Two

The next morning, the Doctor loaded his machine onto the cart.

“Well, son,” he said. “I'll be back in a few days. Take care of you.”

“You too,” Ianto called after him, and watched the cart ramble away.

Jittery with the remaining excitement of the prospect of leaving this place soon, Ianto made his way back into the house to do some much needed cleaning.

He hadn't been at it for very long, when a persistent knock reverberated through the house. Curious, Ianto peeked through the spyhole in the door, another invention from his father, and immediately rolled his eyes when he spotted Captain John Hart standing before the door.

Before he had time to react, the door opened, and he came face to face with the smugly grinning man.

“John,” Ianto exclaimed with a grimace. He looked the other man up and down who, strangely, wore his finest garb. “To what do I owe the honour?”

“A special occasion, Ianto, a very special occasion.” John grinned, and ventured further into the house. He sat down at the table, propping his feet up without having even been invited to sit – or to come inside, actually. “Today, all of your dreams will come true,” he stated pompously.

Annoyed, Ianto pressed his lips together as he saw John trail mud inside the house with his caked boots. “My dreams?” he answered distractedly, his sole being focused on the mess the man had made. “What could you possibly know about my dreams?”

“Oh, a lot. Imagine this...” John jumped up again, and pressed close to Ianto, draping one arm around the young man's shoulder. “A rustic cottage, my latest kill roasting over the fire... my mate taking care of my needs.” He squeezed Ianto tighter, who had to refrain the urge to shove the other man away.

“Lovely,” Ianto drawled drily, and finally managed to get free of John's pushy embrace. “What a lucky person.”

“Exactly. And do you know who'll be that lucky person?!”

“Let me think...”

“You, Ianto!”

Ianto gulped in shock, and backed away. “You can't be serious.”

“I've never been more serious,” John replied ponderously. “I know what I want, Ianto. What I need. And what I need is a strong mate. One as strong, and clever, and handsome as myself. I deserve only the best.”

“Then...” Ianto frowned in confusion. “Then, what do you want with me?”

John smiled indulgently, and shook his head. “So sweet, so humble.”

Confused, Ianto shook his head himself. What the heck was John talking about? He was the weirdo in town, not the beauty or the most popular.

“John, I... I don't know what to say.” He didn't tell him that he was delusional, he was much too polite for that.

“Say that you will marry me!” John promptly answered, backing Ianto up against the door, coming awfully close.

“What?! John... I...” Ianto felt the door handle dig into the small of his back, and he desperately scrambled for it. “I just don't deserve you!”

Cold metal in his hand, he pushed it down. The door sprang open, and he jumped aside just as John leaned in to kiss him.

The other man lost his balance, and, with a shocked outcry, tumbled through the door.

Ianto didn't wait to see where he landed, he slammed the door shut, and slumped against it.

“Oh dear,” he breathed, and just stood there for a few moments.

After a while, he dared to take a peek outside to check if John was gone. He breathed a sigh of relief when the area before the house was completely deserted, thank God. Normally, the other man was much more persistent. Maybe his pride had taken a harder blow than Ianto had thought. Well, good riddance.

He stepped into the crisp, refreshing afternoon air. Briskly, he grabbed a bucket with corn, and plunged his hand inside.

“That... that... pigheaded dork!” he groused, and forcefully chucked a handful of corn onto the ground, eager chicken scrambling over to him to peck at the food. “How dare he?! To think that I would marry him of all people!”

Colourful Welsh curses echoed over the yard as Ianto stormed away, a flight of chickens hot at his heels.

When he had raved, and groused, and ranted, he slowly came down again, leaving the chickens, the house, and the town in the distance behind only to find himself on the meadow behind his home.

Sighing heavily, he simply stood there, and stared into the distance – or at least as far as a foggy Welsh afternoon allowed.

“I really have to get out of here,” he breathed. “I don't belong here.”

He was so glad that his father had shown some perception, and addressed his son's plight. Until now, Ianto had never found the courage to do it himself, respecting his father's wishes not to leave his wife's home town. But now that the Doctor had, everything would change. For the better. Ianto simply knew it!

A terrified whinnying suddenly startled him from his wool-gathering. Shocked, Ianto watched as Myfanwy raced over the meadow towards him, the cart with his father's invention still hitched up to her tack. But there was no sign of Ianto's father.

“Myfanwy!” he cried, intercepting the terrified horse. Soothingly, he brushed her nose and sweat-slicked flanks while trying to calm her down through comforting noises. Bit by bit, the horse calmed down.

“Where is he, girl?” Ianto asked, pleadingly looking the horse in the eye. “Where is he? Take me to him.”

As if understanding him, Myfanwy threw back her head and whinnied.

Determined, Ianto unhooked the cart from her tack, and climbed onto her back.

Chapter Three

He didn't have time to wonder where Myfanwy was taking him, the only thing he could think of was his father. Only when the nervous horse stopped before a huge castle nestled against a mountainside took Ianto notice of his surroundings. He gulped. They were in a remote part of the Brecon Beacons.

With huge eyes, he stared up at the dark castle looming threateningly before him like a cowering beast ready to strike. “What's that castle?” he whispered in awe. He had never heard of such a building here. In fact, he was sure that nobody in the village had ever heard about this castle. But... that wasn't possible, right? It wasn't that far away from the village. Surely somebody would have mentioned it some time.

His frantic thoughts came to a crashing stop when, beyond the iron-wrought gate, he spotted a familiar scarf lying on the cross bridge. Ice-cold dread running through his blood, Ianto stormed through the gate, picking up his father's scarf with shaking fingers. His gaze travelled up towards the castle. His father must be in there. Surely, he was alright, had only sought shelter from a storm, and hadn't even noticed losing his scarf, distracted as he always was. Right. That had to be it. No reason to worry.

Gulping heavily nonetheless, Ianto fetched Myfanwy, and bridged the distance towards the heavy oak gates. Who in Heaven's name would want to live in such a gloomy castle at the arse-end of the world?

Well, something told him he would find out very soon.

He left his horse right at the gates so that she was a bit more protected should it start to rain – and really, he hadn't planned to stay here very long anyway. He'd just fetch his father, and then they would be out of here.

He stepped up to the ominous-looking portal looming before him like the doors to Hell.

Strangely, the gates weren't locked, and since nobody answered Ianto's knocking, not even one guard in sight, he simply stepped inside. It was as dark inside as it was outside, not even one candle was lit. Something wasn't right here. Why wasn't the castle protected against intruders?

“Hello?” he called out cautiously, his voice echoing through the vast entrance hall, and immediately regretted it since he wasn't so sure any more if he wanted the inhabitants of the castle to know he was here.

Gulping, he ventured further into the castle, past the great entrance hall and down a dark corridor. “Father?” he called hastily, looking left and right if he could find a trace of the Doctor.

A sudden noise made him spin around. A light shone from the crack in a door that had only been left ajar.

“Hello?” he called again when he pushed open the door hopefully. The source of light moved up a winding staircase, but nobody answered him. Ianto hurried to follow the stranger.

“Wait, please, I'm looking for my father. Can you tell me where he is?”

He had almost reached the top of the stairs, but he still saw nobody. A candelabrum lit with three candles stood in a small alcove to his right, but nobody was there who could have carried the thing up here.

“Ianto?”

“Father!”

Ianto sprinted over towards his father's weak voice, and, to his horror, realised that his father was locked inside a cell. He grasped his father's hand through a small, barred opening in the heavy cell door.

“What are you doing here?” the Doctor asked, and immediately started coughing.

“Oh father, your hands are like ice. Here.” Ianto pulled the scarf from his pocket, and handed it through the bars.

“Excellent,” the Doctor smiled, and gratefully wrapped the scarf around his neck.

“I'll get you out of here now,” Ianto promised.

The Doctor waved his hand dismissively. “I would have been out of here already and back home with you if I had a screwdriver or some other tools with which to open this door. Child's play.”

Ignoring his father's nattering, Ianto searched his haunted gaze warily. “Who did this to you, father?”

His father's big eyes turned onto him, and he fell silent. “It was...”

A terrifying roar made both of them freeze in terror, and all of a sudden, something big rushed past Ianto. He lost his balance, and tumbled sideways.

“Who's there?” he cried, and tried to spot his attacker in the darkness. And there, something moved in the shadows, but he couldn't make out who or what it was.

“The master of this castle,” a dark, growling voice answered him.

Ianto drew himself up bravely. “Why have you imprisoned my father? Please, let him go. Don't you see that he's sick?”

“Then he shouldn't have trespassed here,” came back the merciless reply.

“I'm sure he didn't mean any harm,” Ianto retorted. “Nothing he could have done justifies throwing him into a cell. Let him go.”

“No. He is my prisoner, and will remain so for the rest of his life.”

Ianto sucked in a shocked breath, wondering why this man wanted so adamantly burden himself with a prisoner, but was startled out of his stupor when the castle master moved towards the staircase, simply leaving him standing here.

“Wait!” he cried. “I'll do anything if you only let him go.”

“There is nothing you can do.” The shadow moved further away.

“No, wait!”

The shadow stopped.

His heart pounded so loud that Ianto was sure its frantic beating echoed inside the hallway, not just his head, but suddenly, a strange calmness came over him.

“Take me in his stead,” he pleaded with a firm voice.

“Ianto, no!”

“You?!” The shadow drew nearer again. “You would... take his place?” The dark voice sounded incredulous.

“No, Ianto, I'm old, I've lived my life,” his father begged, but Ianto ignored him.

“If I stay, will you let him go?”

“I will. But you have to promise to stay here forever.”

His heart missed a beat at the prospect. The rest of his life, imprisoned in this castle, suddenly flashed before his inner eye. Blinking to chase away these bleak, not to say terrifying thoughts, Ianto squinted his eyes, trying to see the master better. “Come into the light,” he requested.

Complying, the other slid into the strip of moonlight that shone through a transom window in the corridor of cells.

Ianto sucked in a shocked breath, and reared back on instinct as he beheld the creature standing before him. Instead of hands and feet, the being had mighty paws with razor-sharp claws. Its whole body was covered in dark brown fur, and it even had a bushy tail. The clothes the beast wore, simple black breeches and a grey coat, had seen better days for they were torn and frayed.

Dragging his eyes up to the head that looked like a lion's head with a mighty mane surrounding the face and vicious looking horns protruding from its forehead, the most striking thing that registered with Ianto though were the eyes. They were the bluest and most expressive eyes Ianto had ever seen, so full of pain, and sorrow, and anger – so human – that it took Ianto's breath away.

But nonetheless, it still was a beast...

His heart still pounding like mad, Ianto slowly stood up, and advanced on the beast. He looked at him firmly, his chin raised proudly. “You have my word.”

“We have a deal then.”

The next few minutes happened so incredibly fast. Before Ianto could blink, the beast had released his father, and dragged the swearing and kicking man down the stairs, Ianto's pleading cries were ignored. Ianto could only watch helplessly through the barred window of the cell how his father was thrown into a carriage that miraculously started moving on its own without being pulled by a horse. Ianto looked after the carriage until it had disappeared in the darkness. After that, he couldn't hold back a sob.

Hearing heavy steps on the stone, he pulled himself together abruptly, and faced his... whatever that beast was for him from now on.

“I couldn't even say goodbye,” he hissed coldly at the beast, his whole body shaking with suppressed rage and despair, and in his highly emotional state, he found the courage to stare the beast down.

The beast at least had the grace to look slightly ashamed, awkwardly rubbing his neck.

“Come with me,” he said a little uneasily. “I'll show you to your rooms.”

Ianto blinked in surprise. “My rooms? But I thought...”

“Do you want to stay here in the tower?” the beast flared up, short-tempered.

“No!”

“Then follow me.”

Dejected, Ianto accepted his fate for the moment, and followed the beast out of the tower, seething inside on behalf of his father that the beast was giving him rooms, but his father had been supposed to stay in these cold, dank cells. But since he didn't want to stay there as well, Ianto didn't question his so called luck.

Their journey through the castle was a silent one, with Ianto meekly following the beast. From now and then, he sneaked small peaks at his surroundings, and was horrified at the neglect around him. But what could be expected from a beast. The dark, run-down, scary interior of the castle perfectly matched its owner.

He looked up when the beast started mumbling, almost appearing as if he was talking to himself or to the candelabrum he carried. The creature surely was mad! Oh dear...

“Ehm, I hope you will like it here,” the beast suddenly started making conversation quite awkwardly. Ianto didn't deign to answer that, so the beast continued. “You're free to go wherever you want, except for the west wing.”

“What about the west wing?” Ianto asked despite the sharp tone of voice the order had been delivered with.

“It's forbidden!”

Ianto flinched back when the beast snapped at him loudly, and he pressed his lips together. Alright, no west wing.

“I understand, Sir,” he answered stiffly, and, his head held high, followed the beast until they arrived before a set of doors in the east wing.

“These are your rooms,” the beast explained. He opened the doors, and let Ianto step through. The young man's eyes widened as he took in the splendid rooms. He'd never seen such luxury.

Mumbling behind him let him perk up again, but he didn't turn around.

“If you need something, let my servants know. And, ehm, you will have dinner with me,” the beast finally said out loud. He hesitated for a moment. “That's not a request!” he snapped, and then slammed the doors closed.

Shocked, Ianto spun around only to come nose to nose with the closed doors. He stared at the wood for a few seconds, his whole body shaking with rage and sorrow once more. But then, he turned around, and stormed over to the bed. Panting heavily, Ianto stood with his arms braced on the mattress. He stared down at the fine linen and silk of the bedding, his thoughts racing.

Unimaginable sorrow and desperation over his unfair fate rushed through his whole body like a fever, making tears spring to his eyes which he blinked away furiously. But then, the sadness was pushed down viciously by burning anger and indignation. How dare this impudent beast take people prisoner at his leisure?! What did he think where they lived? The dark ages?

All of his anger suddenly breaking out of him, Ianto started raving and ranting at the silence of his rooms, colourful Welsh curses bouncing from the walls. In his rage, he grasped the pillows from his bed, and threw them across the room. Not satisfied, he next vented his desperate anger against the furniture. With an outraged cry, he kicked against the sturdy wardrobe.

He bit back a curse as pain shot through his foot, and he cursed himself for his foolishness, but all pain was forgotten when a miffed voice suddenly made him freeze in his tracks.

“Really! What do you think you're doing?!”

Blinking with shock, Ianto dared to peek at the wardrobe. And was met with a pair of bright green eyes that stared back at him from the upper part of the wardrobe.

A cry got stuck in Ianto's throat, but he backed away a few stumbling steps.

“But you're... You're a...” he stammered. And pointed at the wardrobe.

“Yes, I know!” the wardrobe sighed, sounding rather put out about that fact. “You may call me Amelia.”
Ianto, having calmed down again remarkably fast (but really, facing a talking wardrobe was nothing against facing a beast), raised a dry eyebrow. “A wardrobe called Amelia?”

The wardrobe, Amelia, retorted with a raised eyebrow of her own. “Sweetie, there's stranger things in this castle than a wardrobe named Amelia.”

That he believed on the spot.

A knock at the door prevented him from any awkward reply.

“Who's there?” he called out suspiciously.

“Madame Smith, dear.”

Curiously, he crossed over to the door, and opened it. He jumped back in surprise when an intricate teapot and a small, matching teacup sprang past him into the room.

Ianto gaped at them, baffled, and stupidly followed them inside again.

“Good evening, my dear,” the teapot said with the warm voice of an elderly woman. “Can I tempt you to a cup of tea?”

Dumbfounded, Ianto nodded, and crouched on the floor as the small cup waddled forward after the pot had poured sweet-smelling, hot tea into the cup's interior.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, and picked up the cup.

“I'm Luke,” the cup chirped in a child's voice.

“My name's Ianto Jones,” the young man replied after he had taken a sip. He looked at the small, beaming cup on the palm of his hand.

“I'm pleased to meet you, Ianto. Are you here to break the cu...”

“Ah, ah, ah, Luke!” Madame Smith chided hastily.

Luke ducked in Ianto's hand, properly chastised. “Sorry, mum,” he grinned sheepishly.

Ianto frowned at the almost slip, but he could think about all of this later.

Madame Smith came forward. “It was so brave what you have done for your father, my dear.”

Ianto bit his lip as the old pain suddenly welled up inside of him again. “I had to,” he replied in a choked voice. “But now I'll never see him again.”

Madame Smith bit her lips in chagrin.

“You don't know that,” Amelia tried to cheer him up. “Maybe one day... The master's not so bad if you get to know him properly...”

Ianto flashed her a withering look. “Bad enough to imprison people and make them their slaves,” he spat. “He's a monster.”

Amelia and Madame Smith looked at each other.

“So...” Amelia rattled her doors uneasily. “You will not dine with him tonight, then? I already chose the perfect attire for you.”

“I surely won't,” Ianto replied adamantly, crossing his arms before his chest.

Amelia sighed. “Such a shame. Red would so have been your colour.”

“Maybe you'll think about it again?” Madame Smith tried to change Ianto's mind, but the young man remained stubborn.

Wincing in defeat, Madame Smith turned towards the door. “Come on, Luke. We have to go.”

Peeking at Ianto sadly, Luke hopped after Madame Smith.

Trembling with emotion, Ianto watched them go, and steadfastly ignored Amelia's pouting, accusing stares at having spoiled her plans for dressing him up.

Chapter Four

A sudden loud banging at the door startled Ianto from his moping, and a loud roar echoed through the corridor beyond the door.

“I told you to have dinner with me!” the beast shouted.

“I'm not hungry!” Ianto snapped back.

“You're coming out of there at once or... or, I'll break down that door!”

Ianto hmpf-ed, and pointedly turned away from the door.

He thought he could hear the mumbling of a conversation outside, the beast probably conferring with other inhabitants of the castle, but no matter what the beast came up with, Ianto wouldn't waver.

He was surprised to hear sudden gentled, mellowed tones in the beast's deep baritone, begging him prettily to accompany him to dinner. Ianto rolled his eyes. “No.”

“Please?”

“No, thank you.”

The whole castle seemed to shake on its foundations as the beast let out a mighty roar.

“Then stay in there and starve!” the beast shouted. Pounding steps and the slamming of a distant door accompanied the beast's departure.

He felt Amelia's pointed look turned towards him.

“Don't look at me like that,” he ground out. “I'm just getting a point across to that miserable, spoiled idiot.”

But no matter how stubborn Ianto had intended to be, his growling belly a few hours later let him waver. It had been quiet in the corridor outside his rooms for ages now, so, probably, he could safely venture out to look for something to eat. If he was to live here from now on, he refused to be treated like a prisoner in his own home.

Huffing in satisfaction, he slunk to the door, and dared a peek outside. All was calm, and so, Ianto left his rooms, and sneaked through the vast castle that, in his opinion was in dire need of some cleaning. If this castle inhabited living wardrobes and teapots, it surely housed some decent cleaning equipment that he could have a word with.

It didn't take long for him to find the huge kitchens. Cautiously, he stepped inside, and a whole bunch of household appliances froze, and stared at the unexpected guest in surprise.

Gulping, he entered the kitchens. He spotted at least one friendly face as Madame Smith clacked her lid at him happily.

“Mr. Jones!” An exuberant looking candelabrum bounced towards him, beaming at him. It was the same candelabrum that he had spot ted up in the tower. So, he should probably thank the being that it had taken pity on him, and led him to his father... “May I introduce myself, I am John Smith, the master's majordomo.” The candelabrum bowed grandly before him, and then straightened up, and his arms came up to his throat as if to proudly adjust a cravat or something like that – only to realise in disappointment that nothing was there to adjust. He shrugged before he beamed at Ianto again.

“Pleased to meet you,” Ianto mumbled.

“Well, what can we do for you?”

“I'm a little hungry,” he had to admit, and hopefully looked around.

One of the objects, a beautiful mantel clock he would have loved to examine further, seemed to object to his words. It hopped forward, and glared at Ianto.

“What do we look like? Your teaboys? If you won't get along with the master, then tough. He said no dinner!”

“Oh Owen, come on,” John Smith snickered. “Don't be so grumpy. Since when do you heed Ja-, erm, the master's orders?” The candelabrum turned to Ianto again.

“This way, Mr. Jones. The kitchen's always overeager when we have guests...” Master Smith frowned. “Well, they always were – haven't had guests in years –, but that's beside the point. There's plenty left, that's what I wanted to say.” He made a little joyous jump into the air. “Madame Smith, what's for dinner today?”

Madame Smith snorted. “I'm housekeeper here, dear, not your assistant.”

“Ah, yes, my job to know such things,” Smith babbled. “Ehm...”

“While that clever boy figures it out, come over here, Mr. Jones.”

Ianto turned in the direction of the female voice, and faced a huge cast-iron stove.

“Call me Oswin,” the stove said. “And if you're hungry, I make a mean soufflé.”

Ianto perked up at this. “I've never had soufflé.”

“A shame. This eve, you shall have it.” The stove nodded decidedly.

“Come on, dear, follow Master Smith into the dining room while I wake up the dishes,” Madame Smith shooed.

Obediently, Ianto followed the cheerfully babbling candelabrum through an adjacent door, absent-mindedly wondering if the candelabrum and the teapot were related to each other.

Grumbling, the clock followed them.

Smith bade Ianto sit down at an enormous dining table with only one single chair at the head of the table.

“Gwen!” Owen the clock shouted suddenly. “Get your ass over here, and clean that table. You think we want to embarrass ourselves?!”

Angrily, a black and white feather duster jumped onto the table, and started cleaning the indeed slightly dusty surface of the table. “Keep your pants on, Owen,” she grumbled, and Ianto had to suppress a snicker. So there was cleaning equipment. Maybe he should have a little talk with Gwen about doing her job properly.

“Janet! Girl, come here!” Owen then shouted once more, but this time sounded much more friendly.

Exuberant barking heralded Janet's entrance who turned out to be a footstool. She jumped up and down next to Ianto's chair until he bend down, and petted the soft fabric of her body before she weaselled under the table to nudge and prod at Ianto's feet until he got the hint. Obediently, he lifted his feet, and Janet wriggled underneath so they were propped up properly. Ianto didn't have the heart to tell the exuberant footstool who seemed so happy to be useful that this wasn't as comfortable as she may think and best left for sitting in a comfortable armchair in front of the fire, not the dining table.

“What do you say to some music?” Master Smith asked, practically vibrating with energy.

“Eh...”

“We love music!” he continued without waiting for Ianto's answer. “We were very good when... well, we were very good with music.” A sudden shadow flickered over his waxen face, but he composed himself remarkably quick. “So! Music!”

Overwhelmed, Ianto returned to his rooms later on. His mind reeling with all the new impressions and his belly pleasantly full, he crashed on his bed, and simply laid there for a while, letting it all sink in.

He had met a good deal of the castle's inhabitants during dinner which turned out to be all kind of household items from cutlery to furniture.

He was dying to get to the bottom of this, of this mystery that, of course, screamed magic. He had never thought that such things were possible, but proof awaited him around every corner of this castle, no matter how vehemently Smith and Owen tried to deny anything dodgy going on. How thick did they think he was?

But that would have to wait for now because he was bone-weary. Not only made him all the evening's excitement sleepy, but the lingering pain about being parted so violently from his father as well.

Succumbing to it all, Ianto fell into a deep sleep.

Chapter Five

In the early lights of dawn, he was woken up by a rumbling and shaking. Shooting up in bed, Ianto turned wide eyes to Amelia who only shrugged sadly, but didn't seem overly concerned. So, no earthquake that would take down the whole castle. But he had to investigate that. Later. Now, he was hungry, and the shaking had stopped anyway.

After a preening Amelia had outfitted him with some fine clothing from the depths of her drawers, Ianto left his rooms. Head held high, he marched through the castle, once again determined not to feel like a prisoner here. And so, completely naturally as if he were master here, he marched into the kitchens, bidding everybody a good morning.

The kitchen appliances seemed happy to see him again, and ushered him through into the dining room. Ianto was quite glad that the beast was nowhere in sight. Sooner or later, a confrontation was probably unavoidable, but for now, he was relieved to avoid the castle's master.

After breakfast, Master Smith and Madame Toshiko, an ink-black, delicate writing quill who seemed to be some kind of treasurer (whatever an enchanted castle may need treasures for, surely not for the weekly market), gave Ianto a tour through the castle. Owen seemed indisposed this morning, something about him visiting his lover Diane, the castles carriage driver, in the stables – Ianto rather not think too closely about how a love affair between a clock and a riding crop worked. But that reminded Ianto to later check on Myfanwy. Master Smith had assured him that the stable staff had brought her into the stables, and that she was well provided for.

Attentive and interested, Ianto followed Master Smith and Madame Toshiko while letting their excited rambling about the castle's history wash over him.

Under normal circumstances, he would have appreciated their endeavours, but after some time, his thoughts started to stray. He couldn't help but turn the mystery of this castle over and over inside his head. Rather than hear about the long, impressive history of the castle, he'd really like to hear what had happened that all of the inhabitants had been cursed. But of course, no matter his gentle prodding, the two clever beings deflected his advances every time.

But in his excitement, Master Smith slipped in his prattling when they passed a huge staircase – the staircase apparantly leading up to the west wing.

“Why's it forbidden?” Ianto asked right out, raising an expectant eyebrow at Master Smith and Mistress Toshiko.

Had the two beings still possessed hands, they would have wrung them awkwardly.

“It's the master's quarters, he's simply a very private person,” Smith explained with a beaming, much too bright smile.

Ianto nodded his understanding. That he could understand perfectly, but he sensed that there was more. Valuing ones privacy hadn't warranted for such a violent reaction of the beast after he had imposed his ban. Now thinking more closely about it, Ianto almost got the impression that the beast had been afraid. Afraid of Ianto discovering something he hid up there.

Letting the matter rest for now, he followed his guides away from the staircase.

In the late afternoon, after pondering the situation over and over, Ianto had come to a decision. Informing Amelia that he was taking a stroll (and really, if he came to stay here, they had to find an arrangement; he couldn't share his room with a noisy – and female at that – wardrobe for the rest of his life, he liked his privacy as much as the castle's master, thank you very much), he ventured from his rooms. He met nobody on his way, and therefore, nobody stopped him when he ascended the stairs leading up to the west wing.

Normally, he would never violate another's privacy like that. He'd be furious if someone intruded on him like that, so other's could expect the same courtesy from him as well. But in this case, he simply felt drawn to the remote west wing.

Yes, sneaking up there was part out of spite towards the beast (not a nice realisation about oneself, but unfortunately, it was the truth), but he somehow felt that the solution to this whole mystery was hidden up there. Or at least, a huge puzzle piece of it that would help him solve this whole mess. And really, maybe he could help. If people would only just openly tell him what was going on apart from the fact that they all were cursed. And even that was a closely guarded information nobody wanted to give him. Yet.

His heart lodged inside his throat, Ianto carefully sneaked along the corridor. The whole castle was dark and scary, but the further he ventured into the west wing, the more horrible it got. Neglect screamed at him from all corners, the rich tapestries and pictures hanging in shreds from the walls, cobwebs hung like fine veils from the ceiling, and the candelabras mounted to the wall were either broken off (ripped off even?) or hung crookedly in their hinges. Left and right from the dusty carpet stood hideous statues, white creatures with angel's wings but sporting horrifying grimaces, their sharp teeth flashing dangerously out of their open mouths. It seemed as if they wanted to prevent anyone from venturing further, and Ianto almost bolted when he saw these statues. He somehow got the feeling that they were alive, watching him, and he almost didn't dare leave them out of his sight.

Relieved, he finally reached the huge doors at the end of the corridor.

Grunting with the effort, he pulled open the heavy doors, their rusty hinges squeaking ominously.

The beast's rooms were as neglected as the corridor outside. Broken furniture lay everywhere that looked as if it had become the victim of a raging fit without anybody being allowed to clean up this mess. One of the only items that had escaped unscathed was a huge four-poster bed with luscious bedding. Well, even a beast had to sleep somewhere it seemed. The curtains and tapestries had been ripped apart here, too, as well as a big painting in a golden, ornamentally crafted picture frame. Curious whose picture the beast would have hanging in his rooms, Ianto stepped nearer. The picture had been torn apart by what seemed like sharp claws. Carefully, Ianto grasped the tatters hanging down, and lifted them up so that he would get a better impression. A young man stared back at him from the picture. He was incredibly handsome, and his eyes were as blue as the sky... Somehow, they seemed awfully familiar, and something niggled at the back of Ianto's mind...

But before he could think more closely about this mysterious man, something else prodded at his whole being. A strange, powerful feeling that washed over him, compelling him to turn around. He gasped softly. There by the balcony doors stood a small table, and on it stood a magnificent red rose under a glass dome. But what was so magnificent about this picture was not the beauty of the rose but the fact that it was surrounded by a purple shine. The warm light seemed to beckon Ianto forwards, and, spellbound, he stepped nearer.

Breathing out another soft gasp, he realised the rose was suspended in the air. But on the bottom, there lay a pitiful looking heap of withered rose petals. Sadly, Ianto realised that even something as perfect and magical as this rose seemed to be bound to the ravages of time.

Nonetheless awed, Ianto stretched out his hand as if compelled, but before his fingers could come into contact with the protecting glass, a deep growl made him snatch back his arm.

Horrified, he found himself face to face with the beast who glared at him from the other side of the table where he had appeared suddenly.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then, the beast advanced on him.

Ianto let out a shocked scream as the beast grasped him, and pushed him up against one of the posters of the bed.

All breath left Ianto as he impacted painfully with the hard wood.

“Why did you come here?” the beast growled into his face, and tightened his hold on Ianto.

“I didn't...” Ianto gasped, but couldn't get out much more.

“Do you realise what you could have done?!” the beast shouted, his razor-sharp teeth flashing dangerously close to Ianto's line of sight.

Instinctively bringing his shaking hands up to grasp the beast's mighty forearms, he braced himself, and lifted his feet, kicking the beast in the shins (he'd rather aimed a little higher, but that was all he could manage right now).

Startled not because it hurt but because Ianto put up resistance, the beast, his eyes widened in sudden surprise, loosened his hold around Ianto. The young man could breathe again properly, and, fuelled by a desperate survival instinct, propelled himself forward. He crashed into the beast, and they toppled to the ground. Ianto's fall was braced by the huge body he landed on, and for a moment, they both froze. Their faces only inches apart, they stared at each other in shock and surprise.

But then, the moment was over, and Ianto rammed his elbow into the beast's chest. Without waiting for any reaction, Ianto rolled from the beast, and scrambled to his feet. A furious growling and shuffling behind him alerted him that the beast had recovered. He spun around to face the beast who advanced on him again.

“Wait!” he cried, but the beast advanced on him once more, chucking away some of the scattered furniture in his way that crashed against the wall with a booming crash, splintering into thousands of pieces.

“Get out of here!” the beast roared, and Ianto needn't think twice about that.

As fast as he could, he raced from the rooms, down the corridor, the mocking, hideous faces of the angels staring after him, and flew down the staircase.

At the bottom, Master Smith, Owen, and Mistress Toshiko stood, looking frightened and nervous.

“Where are you going?” Smith cried when Ianto raced past them.

“Promise or no promise, I won't stay here a second longer!” he stated in a shaky voice.

Pulling open the gates, Ianto ran towards the stables. He had Myfanwy saddled in no time at all, and then urged her across the cross bridge, just far, far away from this place.

Somewhere in his muddled mind, Ianto realised that he hadn't even stopped to get a coat, but that didn't matter right now. He didn't plan to stop long enough to get cold in the first place, even if the first snow had been falling steadily the whole day.

As if Myfanwy sensed his turmoil, she raced faster through the forest, whinnying nervously the whole time.

Chapter Six

When the castle became smaller and smaller behind them, Ianto breathed out a sigh of relief, but the breath got stuck in his lungs when, in the next moment, the howling of wolves made the blood in his veins freeze with fear. Frantically, he looked around. The packs in the Brecon Beacons were infamous. Rumour had it that they were vicious hunters that showed no fear even towards humans. Once or twice, people had ventured through the Beacons and never returned.

His heart stopped for a second when he saw bright yellow eyes watching him left and right from the road as the horse flew by.

In the next second, the beasts broke through the undergrowth, and gave chase.

He urged Myfanwy to go faster, but suddenly, a couple of wolves appeared right before them. Myfanwy reared back in shook, whinnying shrilly, and abruptly, she rose onto her hind legs.

Ianto lost his grip, and fell from the horse's back, only the soft snow he landed in prevented any serious injuries.

Disorientated for a moment, Ianto looked up, his head spinning, and he froze as he came face to face with pack. They were huge and white, and almost appeared as if not from this world – considering where he was, so close to a enchanted castle surrounded by eternal snow, it was possible that these creatures were part of whatever curse had befallen the castle, some kind of guardian maybe.

The wolves watched him calmly, waiting for their prey's reaction, and for a moment they all seemed as if frozen in time.

But then, Ianto jumped to his feet at Myfanwy's terrified cry. He spun around to her, and saw to his dismay that her bridle had become entangled in a bush. She was trapped. Fearing for his horse, Ianto was with her in a second, wielding a large stick he had picked up along the way. Standing between the horse and the wolves that were advancing on him, he lashed out at the growling beasts with the stick while frantically trying to free Myfanwy with the other hand.

He caught one of the advancing wolves in the side, but this only enraged the others who came nearer and nearer, encircling him until he had no chance of escape any more.

He swung the stick harder and faster, hitting a few of the wolves, but then, one of them managed to catch the stick between its teeth. It pulled, and the wood splintered apart.

Horrified, Ianto braced himself for the attack.

All air was violently pressed from his lungs when one of the wolves crashed into him, toppling him to the ground. But before the wolf could lunge for his throat, it was snatched away.

Wide-eyed, Ianto stared at the beast that had suddenly appeared above him, the struggling wolf held in mighty paws that simply flung the animal aside. Their eyes met for a split-second, then, the pack attacked the beast.

Terrified, Ianto scrambled away, and watched the brutal fight with baited breath. He should have probably tried to escape while the beast distracted the wolves, but he was paralysed with fear.

Roaring, growling and painful whining echoed through the forest, the noises almost deafening in their intensity. Blood sprayed, and painted the snow in a ghastly red.

And then, all of a sudden, eery silence descended over them. The wolves were either dead or had bolted. The victorious beast remained behind, his panting breath the only sound in the otherwise silent forest.

They stared at each other for a few seconds, then suddenly, the beast collapsed, lying in the cold snow motionlessly.

Ianto was still frozen with fear as he stared at his saviour, undecided. But the longer he stood there staring at the fallen beast, the more the adrenalin bled from his body, leaving him trembling in shock and cold.

A soft nudge from Myfanwy spurred him into action. Stumbling through the high snow towards the beast, Ianto knelt down beside him. He laid his cold hand onto the beast's back, and was relieved to find him breathing shallowly. His violent shivers got worse, and he realised that he would freeze to death even before he had the chance to help the beast. With trembling fingers, he managed to strip the beast of his heavy grey coat, and wrapped himself in the much too big clothing. At least, it kept him warm, the lingering body heat of the beast being a balm to Ianto's freezing body.

Beckoning Myfanwy over to them, the horse huffing at the beast suspiciously, Ianto managed to make her kneel beside them. With his last ounce of strength, he managed to drag the heavy beast, and place him over her back. Apologising the whole time as Myfanwy struggled onto her feet with her heavy burden, Ianto slowly led her back towards the castle.

Lost deep in thought about what had happened, Ianto buried deeper inside the beast's coat, letting himself be comforted by the beast's unique scent which was surprisingly pleasurable, not at all smelling like wet animal fur.

Chancing a glance over his shoulder at the unconscious creature lying over Myfanwy's saddle, Ianto's mind whirled with thoughts until they reached the castle.

With the help of the castle's staff, he managed to carry the beast into one of the lounges where a bright fire was already burning in the fireplace. While they settled the half-conscious beast in a stuffed armchair, Madam Smith poured hot water into a bowl.

Gratefully, Ianto shed the huge coat, gradually warming up again, and got down to work.

Kneeling beside the beast with a cloth he had dunked into the hot water, Ianto wanted to clean the vicious looking scratches and bite wounds that stained the brown fur. But the stubborn creature shied away from him, preferring to treat his wounds himself by licking them clean.

“Stop that!” Ianto admonished, and once more drew closer with the cloth raised threateningly. Huffing haughtily at Ianto's demands, the beast still tried to wriggle away from him.

“Stay st ill, for God's sake!” And swiftly, fed up with the beast's stubborn, childish behaviour, shot out like a striking snake, and pressed the cloth onto one of the ugly wounds.

The beast roared so loud in pain that his servants scattered away in fear, and hid behind another armchair. Protectively, he yanked his arm from Ianto's grip, and cradled it against his chest.

Ianto simply pressed his lips together in irritation, and had to resist the urge to grab the beast's wrist, and simply yank it back.

“That hurts!” the beast shouted at him.

“It wouldn't hurt as much if you'd let me treat your wounds!” Ianto shouted back.

“And whose fault is it that I got hurt in the first place!”

“I didn't fancy staying to see if you would tear me apart,” Ianto spat back.

The beast glared at him. “Then you shouldn't have come into the west wing.”

Sizzling silence descended over them, and they glared at each other for a few long minutes. None of the servants dared to breathe as they watched their master and their guest in awe.

Ianto was the first to look away because, although he would have loved nothing more right now than to call out the beast on his uncontrolled temper, he knew that he had been the one in the wrong.

“I'm sorry,” he ground out through gritted teeth.

The beast stared at him for a few agonising seconds longer, then he inclined his head. “I'm sorry as well. I didn't want to scare you.”

Nodding jerkily, Ianto held out his hand. After hesitating only for a split-second, the beast placed his arm into Ianto's hand.

“Why did you do it?” the beast asked softly while Ianto gently cleaned his wound.

He bit his bottom lip in shame, but then mustered up the courage and the dignity to answer truthfully. “Out of spite,” he admitted. “But also because I thought I could solve the mystery that surrounds you. I thought I could help.”

The beast's mulish expression at Ianto's first admission made way for a more gentle but deeply troubled, weary look. “Nobody can help me.”

Ia nto frowned at these words, but rather than argue, bend his head over the beast's arm.

“Thank you,” he murmured. “For saving my life.”

He felt the beast's intense gaze fixed upon his person for some strained, anxious moments.

“You're welcome,” w as the soft reply.

Chapter Seven

They continued to talk softly from time to time while Ianto dressed the beast's wounds. Time flew by while they sat together like that, and before they realised, the clock on the mantel chimed midnight.

Almost shyly bidding each other a good night, Ianto returned to his room. While walking through the castle's corridors, he felt as if he had been here already for weeks, so familiar was all of this...

“There you are!” Amelia cried when he entered his rooms. “Don't you ever do something so stupid again as to run away!”

Ianto threw her an admonished smile. “I won't,” he promised.

“Not such a monster the master is, aye?” She winked knowingly at him, so somebody must have kept her informed about the evening's proceedings.

Ianto ducked his head ruefully, but with a gentle smile grazing his lips. “No,” he admitted. “He isn't.”

“Told ya so,” she huffed smugly, but in the next moment clucked her tongue at him disapprovingly. “Look at your clothes. All dirty and torn!”

For the first time, Ianto indeed noticed the sad state of his clothes. He grimaced. “Oh my. My mother would have had my hide.”

Amelia cocked a questioning eyebrow.

“She was a seamstress,” he explained.

The wardrobe's face brightened. “Blimey. I've been a seamstress, too...” She gasped softly, and would have slapped her hands before her mouth if she'd had any.

“It's all right,” Ianto chuckled. “How dumb do you think I am. Of course you were human once.”

Amelia's whole form sagged in relief. “Sorry. Of course you figured it out.”

“What happened?” Eagerly, Ianto sat down onto the mattress, and looked at her expectantly, hoping to finally get some information.

Amelia cringed.

“This is about your master, is it not?” he prodded gently.

“It is,” Amelia eventually admitted.

Ianto cocked his head, waiting.

“He was punished for being a spoilt brat that knew no compassion or responsibilities,” the wardrobe further explained.

“And all of you suffered the same fate.” Ianto frowned.

“Yes.”

In the next few minutes, Amelia told Ianto about the sad fate of the castle's inhabitants. Now, a lot of things became clearer. Especially why nobody in the village seemed to know anything about this castle.

Amelia sobbed heartbreakingly. “It's been ten years since I saw Rory last. What if he found someone new?”

Ianto blinked, baffled. “Rory? Rory Williams?”

“Yes,” she sniffled, looking over to him hopefully.

He waved a shaky hand dismissively. “Don't worry. I know him quite well. There's no-one else.”

“Really?”

“I promise.”

A shaky smile made its way onto her face again. Then suddenly, she frowned, then she gasped. “Ianto Jones !”

“Ehm, yes?”

“Of course! You're Rhiannon Jones' son!”

Ianto's eyes widened. “You knew my mother?!”

“I was her apprentice until she... well.” She lowered her eyes in remembrance of Ianto's mother. But then she looked at him excitedly again. “I knew you when you were a child. How didn't I draw the connection?!”

“But...” Ianto did the maths in his head – she couldn't be much older than him, maybe a few years. “I don't remember my mother having an apprentice,” he answered stupidly.

“Of course not. It's the curse.”

“But then... I surely know a lot of the staff here.”

“In all likelihood, yes. You've surely known Gwen Cooper, Rhys William's fiancée. He's Rory's cousin.”

Ianto nodded, dumbfounded. “I must have.”

Thinking furiously, he scrutinised her. “There has to be something that can break the curse.”

“Sure there is. But we can't talk about it. And anyway, it's something that can't be forced.”

“What can't be forced?” Ianto probed.

But Amelia only shook her head stubbornly, and instead of answering, now it was her who contemplated him, assessing .

Since Ianto felt that she wouldn't or maybe couldn't tell him more, he decided to let the matter rest. Although he badly wanted to help them. If he could contribute anything to break the spell, he would do it. Surely they realised that? Maybe he had to nag the beast about it until he had the whole picture spread out before him.

When Ianto came to breakfast the next morning, to his shock, the beast was there as well. Until now, Ianto hadn't seen the castle's master during the meals – and he'd been glad of it. But now, he found that he didn't really mind the unexpected company. During the night, he'd had a lot of time to think things through since he had seen a side of the beast that was wholly unexpected. Of course, he'd also seen a bad side of him, his vicious temper, which maybe hadn't been that unjustified though considering Ianto's violation of his privacy. But the good he'd seen weighed stronger than the incident in the west wing. No matter how it came to be, and whose fault it may have been, the beast had saved Ianto's life.

“Good morning,” he said politely, not giving away how unexpectedly nervous he was, and ignoring the worried looking staff hovering near by who were watching the meeting warily.

“Good morning,” the beast mumbled. He looked strangely shy, not at all like the bad-tempered creature he had known until now. He stood next to the breakfast table like a polite gentleman waiting for his lady to sit down. Had he hovered and maybe paced here the whole time? Waiting for Ianto? He must have, as awkward and uncomfortable as the beast looked, a nervous twitch of his right ear proclaiming his awkwardness loud and clear.

And really, as if he had discovered his manners over night, the beast pulled out a chair for Ianto.

Ianto gaped at that, but he also felt a blush creep onto his cheeks.

Mumbling a “Thank you”, he sat down.

The beast did the same, and wrapped in anxious silence, they waited for breakfast to be served. Ianto wondered what a beast might have for breakfast. Hopefully nothing too bloody.

But even as it turned out the beast ate the same as Ianto, his table manners were atrocious! There even landed some egg yolk on the collar of the shirt the beast wore. But what could you really expect from a beast.

Apart from that, breakfast was a surprisingly comfortable affair. They didn't talk much, but it was somehow companionable.

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

Ianto stared at the beast after hearing this surprising question.

“I do,” he answered, dumbfounded.

Chapter Eight

After overcoming the morning's awkwardness for good, Ianto and the beast got talking, tentatively learning more and more about each other while they strolled through the surprisingly vast, well-kept gardens that were currently covered with a layer of pure white snow.

“What's your name?” Ianto asked out of the blue, feeling comfortable enough around the beast by now.

The beast cocked his eyebrows.

“Surely you must have a name. All of the castle's other inhabitants do.”

The beast wouldn't look at him for a few moments, probably contemplating if he should answer Ianto at all, but then he mumbled something.

Ianto cocked his head. “Jack? Your name is Jack?”

A nod confirmed that he had understood correctly.

Dumbfounded, Ianto stared at the beast. A beast named Jack. Huh. Interesting. But, as Amelia had said, there were stranger things going on in this castle than the names.

Although it was a sunny day, soon, Ianto started shivering from the cold. They went inside again, both unsure what they were supposed to do now, but at the same time unwilling to part ways yet.

A twirly Janet that suddenly raced up to them, and then started to nudge them forward, made them end up in a comfortable living room with a brightly roaring fire.

Relieved, Ianto spotted a book lying on the mantle. Shedding his coat, he eagerly approached to read the title.

“Oh, Shakespeare!” he cried in excitement. With the book in hand, he turned back to Jack. “I could read to you,” he offered, all of a sudden becoming shy at the almost... yeah, intimate, maybe too familiar offer.

Jack stared at him, baffled, but nodded his consent. “Which one?”

“Romeo and Juliet.”

Jack huffed, scrunching up his nose in disgust.

Affronted, Ianto huffed as well. “What?! It's one of my favourites.”

“Figures,” Jack grumbled under his breath sarcastically, earning him another glare from Ianto. Out loud he said, “I never liked it. It's so... overly dramatic.”

Ianto stemmed his hand into his hips. “You know Shakespeare so well that you can pass judgement now?” he demanded to know.

“Of course,” Jack sniffed, and raised his head haughtily. “Believe it or not, but my education was pretty expensive. I've read all of Shakespeare's works.” He waved his paw dismissively. “Child's play. I had that down when I was ten.”

Perking up at that, Ianto approached Jack, trying to hold back his eagerness, the forgotten book pressed tightly to his chest. “Really? What else did you learn?”

Jack cocked his head, confused. “Why would you want to know?”

Biting his lips, Ianto shuffled his feet. “Well... I always want to learn more. My father was a scholar at the Academy of Sciences in Edinburgh, so I suppose it's genetic. I've never met a more clever man, but in our village...” Ianto sighed. “They have not much use for higher learning. They think me strange for wanting to. And our bookshop, thank God we have one in the first place, is small.”

“I'm sorry.”

Ianto shrugged. “I got used to it.”

“Really?” Jack cocked a bushy eyebrow.

The young man sighed. “No. Not really. But...”

“I understand.”

Ianto looked up, and met Jack's gentle gaze.

They stared at each other for a few moments.

“So... which is your favourite then?” Ianto then asked softly.

“Hm?”

“Shakespeare.”

“Oh. I always loved the comedies.”

“I have to admit, I haven't read that many. Hard to get a hold of some things in such a remote area.”

Jack huffed decidedly at that, and suddenly grasped Ianto's wrists, almost dragging him from the room.

Protesting half-heartedly, Ianto let himself be dragged to a double door at the end of the corridor.

Dramatically (so much for Romeo and Juliet being too dramatic, Ianto thought dryly), Jack pushed open the doors.

“You can start to broaden your horizon right now,” he told Ianto a bit smugly, and with a flourish, pulled back heavy velvet drapes.

Ianto froze in awe for when the curtains were drawn back, the gentle light falling into the huge room, hall even, revealed books. Thousands and thousands of books. The intricately carved shelves that housed them reached up to the ceiling which was so high up that Ianto had to crane his neck.

“That's,” he whispered, his throat suddenly bone-dry while his huge eyes tried to take it all in at once. “I... I can't believe it. I've never seen so many books in my life!” Unbidden, tears of joy and awe sprang to his eyes, but he didn't care about them, he just carelessly brushed them away lest they obstruct his view of all those precious books.

“You like it?” Jack asked, unsure.

“This is heaven,” Ianto confirmed in a breathless whisper, never once taking his eye from the books.

“Then...” Almost shyly, Jack shuffled nearer. “Then they're yours.”

Ianto snapped his wide eyes to Jack, staring at the beast in shock. He opened his mouth, but no words came out, so he closed it again. Instead, he swallowed heavily, and smiled at Jack a truly beatific smile of gratitude.

Sighing inwardly, his heart becoming lighter all of a sudden, Jack smiled back.

Ianto didn't give Jack any chance to escape afterwards. Excitedly, he dragged him through the library, almost stumbling over his words in his hasty excitement to start discussing the titles he spied on the shelves all at once. And to his amazement and glee, he learned that Jack had read a good lot of them.

The beast waved his paw dismissively, trying to correct Ianto in his awe of him that he was so well-read. “I liked to study as a child, yes,” he admitted, “but when I got older, I discovered I liked balls and going hunting much more. It's... It's been a long time that I've been in here, even before...”

“Before the curse,” Ianto finished Jack's sentence in his head, but he didn't say anything. Full of sadness suddenly, he wondered how Jack had passed the time in all those bleak years if he hadn't taken comfort in the magic worlds books offered.

“Emerging from these fantasy worlds into the horror of my reality would have been more cruel than to face reality constantly in the first place,” Jack whispered, as if he could read Ianto's thoughts. Had his expression been so revealing, the young man wondered. He'd always prided himself to hide his emotions and his thoughts from others very well. Had Jack really learned to read him so well after only such a short time?

Swallowing tightly, not wanting to think what this may imply if it was indeed the case, Ianto snatched up one of the books they had been perusing together. “Come. I'll read to you.”

And although curling up before the roaring fire together while his calm baritone reciting Shakespeare washed over them both was still incredibly familiar, Ianto suddenly didn't mind the intimacy of the situation any more like he had in the library. Almost shyly, he leaned back against the warm, comforting wall of Jack's upper body when the beast shuffled a little closer, looming over him like a protective shield.

The day was slowly coming to a close when the two emerged from the cosy bubble they had been in the whole afternoon, reading to each other while sitting before the fire in an intimate togetherness. To their surprise, it was getting dark already, and their suddenly growling bellies startled them. Grinning at each other sheepishly, the young man and the beast followed Master Smith who had suddenly appeared at the door discretely, telling them that dinner would be ready shortly.

After dinner, during which Ianto had decided to overlook Jack's bad table manners, even started to find them endearing so that he had joined Jack in eating with his fingers, the two were reluctant to part from each other so soon.

Taking a stroll through the castle for want of anything better to do, Jack shrugged when Ianto carefully asked him how he had spend his evenings in the past. Back when...

“I had company almost all the time,” he told Ianto. “I hate being alone.”

Ianto raised a dry eyebrow. “Company or... company ?”

Jack froze for a moment before a sly grin crept onto his features (which looked kinda frightening on his savage features). “That's for you to decide.” He winked at him unexpectedly.

Ianto cleared his throat, feeling his cheeks heating involuntarily. “And, pray tell, what did you and your company do apart from the obvious?” He immediately regretted awkwardly pressing Jack for more information just to keep the conversation flowing.

He cringed when Jack smirked at him.

“Oh, you know, the usual. Dining together, dancing, playing Hide and Seek.”

“That's a children's game,” Ianto deadpanned, showing his opinion of aristocracy's grasp of playing.

“Not if it's played naked.”

Ianto's cheeks were flaming by now. Why had he even asked in the first place?! But at the same time, he was pleasantly shocked and amazed about this playful, carefree, and even flirty side Jack suddenly showed after unbending a bit and seemingly feeling comfortable with Ianto. Was that what he had been like as a human? It should probably scare Ianto away since he wasn't like that at all, rather the complete opposite, but somehow, he found he liked this side of Jack. And he realised that, although he was slightly mortified, a certain interest in what Jack told him was sparked inside of him. He had never known that he could possibly be like that...

“You liked to dance?” he changed the topic since, by now, they had arrived in the huge ballroom Ianto had only had a short glimpse of before.

Jack's eyes became wistful, and looked around the gloomy, slightly neglected hall. “I felt so free. Almost like flying when I danced. The balls we held here were famous far and wide.”

“Then let's do it!” Ianto exclaimed suddenly. Immediately, he blushed about his words, his cheeks heating even more at Jack's suggestive, teasing leer. “I mean, let's have a ball.”

Jack's face fell a little. “Not many people that we could invite.”

“It doesn't matter. Then it's just the two of us.”

Jack smiled softly. He liked the prospect of that; just the two of them. “I'd love that.”

Chapter Nine

Full of excitement, they parted ways after a while, Jack wanting to inform Master Smith of their pending plans.

Ianto, in the meantime, returned to his rooms. Amelia was already waiting for him, wanting to hear the latest gossip.

“You look happy,” she smiled softly when Ianto had finished telling her about his day.

He ducked his head, but couldn't suppress the soft smile that stole onto his lips. “I am.”

“You're good for him,” she told him gently. “In just a few days, he's changed so much.”

Ianto nodded, remembering how grumpy and bad-tempered Jack had been only, well, yesterday, really. “I think, he's good for me, too,” he admitted softly.

“We held it against him, you know,” she suddenly changed the topic, and Ianto looked up, listening attentively. “He was beautiful, carefree, but... well, he wasn't cruel or anything. Just arrogant and thoughtless. After he was cursed, we held it against him that we were punished as well. To say it mildly, our relationship with him was not the best for a long time.”

“But that changed?”

“Yes. We realised that we were all prisoners here, and that we had to stick together. And frankly, he's punished enough already. He's so lonely, and us cutting him... It hurt to look at his loneliness.”

“He's no longer alone,” Ianto declared, calmly but nonetheless passionately. “We'll find a way to lift the curse, I'm sure, and then, he won't be alone any more.”

Amelia smiled at him fondly.

The next day, Jack and Ianto were shooed from the castle by Master and Madame Smith as well as Owen. The whole castle needed a good cleaning if his Highness wanted to have a ball – Owen's words that had been accompanied with a lot of grumbling of how he had thought that these times were over for good.

Meekly beating a retreat, the two once more went outside into the gardens, and soon, Ianto went to fetch Myfanwy to give her a bit of exercise.

The horse was happy to be outside, and willingly let herself be led through the snow-covered gardens, but when they reached Jack, who had waited for them leaning against a tree, she became nervous again much like she had in the forest.

When Ianto nonetheless led her forward to introduce the two properly, she got mulish and testy, and before Ianto could blink, she reared up, bucking against his grip on her bridle, and broke lose. Ianto, losing his balance, was propelled backwards. But suddenly, strong arms encompassed him, he stumbled against a broad chest, and then, he was horizontal. Blinking, he met Jack's eyes, who had tumbled into the snow with him, all the while holding him tight. Chancing a quick glance at Myfanwy revealed that the horse stood a few feet away, looking much too innocent.

Heavenly warmth was seeping through the front of Ianto's clothes where he touched Jack almost from chest to toe, drawing his attention to Jack again. He looked the beast in the eye once more. It was as if time stood still while they stared at each other.

What was this feeling, he wondered. Being close to Jack... The pull was so strong...

Loud barking suddenly burst their little bubble, and a heavy weight crashed into them. Janet, obviously having been shooed from the castle as well, had come to find her master in the hope of a little more excitement.

And with that, the intimate mood was over. Ianto laughed a loud, carefree laugh as Janet tackled him, causing him to tumble from Jack where he had landed safely in the beast's arms, and then into the snow before she turned to Jack to lunge for him.

The beast caught the footstool effortlessly between his mighty paws, and put her back on the ground. Wriggling expectantly, she barked at them.

Looking at each other with a smile, Ianto went to search for a branch they could throw for her (in the opposite direction Myfanwy was standing, still sulking, since she looked as if she wouldn't appreciate the exuberant footstool's attention at the moment).

Flushed from the cold, the exercise, and with happiness, Ianto stumbled towards a group of stone benches that were arranged in a bower in the middle of the gardens. Breathing heavily, he looked up at Jack who followed him with some distance after he had shooed Janet back inside. Hesitantly, he sank down onto the bench next to Ianto.

For a while, they simply sat beside each other in a comfortable silence while they tried to get their breathing back. Ianto looked at Jack, and rejoiced at the clear, serene but at the same time lively look in Jack's blue eyes. The beast really looked happy, his wide, sparkling eyes taking in all of their surroundings wondrously, so as if he saw the wonders of the world for the first time. Maybe he did after all these years.

A little awed, Jack let his paw glide across the smooth stone they were sitting on, feeling its coldness and the pleasantly smooth texture beneath his fingertips. “I feel so strange,” he mumbled, looking down onto his paw. “As if newly born.”

He startled, when suddenly, Ianto put his hand, slightly reddened from the cold, onto his, squeezing gently. Jack chanced a glance at Ianto's glowing face.

“Not so far from the truth, wouldn't you say,” the young man stated, and Jack nodded mutely.

“I'm sorry,” he suddenly said.

“What for?”

“For imprisoning you. And your father.” Jack averted his eyes in shame, while Ianto cocked his head questioningly.

“Why did you do it?” There was no accusation or scorn in his voice, simply curiosity.

Jack shrugged ungainly. “I guess I was lonely.” He started picking at a loose thread on his coat. “For so many years, I was so desperate, and I wanted company so badly. My servants avoided me because they blamed me – and rightly so – for their fate. I had nobody. From day to day, I wished somebody, anybody, would find their way here, but nobody ever came. Eventually, I started resenting everything, and when finally my wish came true and another person showed up here, your father, I couldn't bear it. I hated that he was here, but at the same time, I never wanted to let him go. I'm sorry.” He hung his head, his voice being no more than a whisper in the end.

Ianto's gentle hand on his cheek made him flinch, and out of surprise, he looked at the young man. “It was wrong, yes,” Ianto said. “But I understand. Really,” he assured when Jack looked doubtful. “I told you the villagers think me strange. I feel alone all the time.”

“It's my greatest fear,” Jack confessed in a whisper. He searched Ianto's eyes questioningly. “Have they told you? What will happen when the last petal of the rose falls?”

Ianto shook his head. “Only that you will stay a beast forever if the curse is not broken by then.”

“But they didn't tell you what will happen to them, did they?” He nodded absent-mindedly. “I understand. They try not to think about it. The rose is withering more and more each day, with each petal that falls, the castle starts to decay as well. You must have felt it.” Jack looked at him, but it wasn't a question. The earthquake, Ianto realised. The castle was literally falling apart.

He nodded.

“And when the last petal falls,” Jack continued, “I will stay a beast, but they... they all will turn into the household objects they have been cursed to be.”

“You mean...”

“Yes, they become inanimate objects. And I... I will be all alone here in this ruin for the rest of my life, forgotten by every living being here on Earth.”

Ianto gasped softly in sho ck, and instinctively, he shuffled closer to Jack on the bench.

Touched by the unspoken comfort, the beast pressed against Ianto's form nestled against his side.

“Tell me how to break the curse,” Ianto requested after they had sat there for a while in silence.

“No.”

“Why not?!”

“Because it's nothing that can be forced.”

Ianto huffed in frustration. “Amelia said the same thing. But I can't try if I don't know what to do.”

Jack shook his head. “Please, Ianto. Just let it be. It won't happen for me anyway. Ever.”

Jack was saved from further questions by the determined Welshman when Master Smith appeared next to them, clearing his throat.

The two looked at him, startled.

“You should come inside, eat a bite. And then, it's time to get ready.” The majordomo said this almost ceremoniously, and he bade them to follow him with a wide, dramatic sweep of one arm.

Nodding curtly, and without looking at each other because both had turned shy all of a sudden again, Ianto and Jack stood up, and followed the candelabra into the castle.

While apparently, Owen, as Jack's valet (which, frankly, amazed Ianto since Owen was grousing and complaining all the time, and constantly bickering with Jack, but nonetheless, there seemed to be deep fondness between those two), took care of the castle's master, Amelia of course, and Master Smith had taken it upon themselves to fit out Ianto for the evening's festivities.

Not long though, Ianto and Amelia were alone, the fiery wardrobe having chucked Master Smith from the room when he had insisted upon Ianto wearing a bowtie. Since neither the former seamstress nor the son of a seamstress would stand for something like that , the exuberant candelabra had been forced to yield, and, with much pouting grumbling, had disappeared to try his luck with Jack.

Now, Ianto was left with a flirty wardrobe who visibly enjoyed dressing up a young man – which the young man in question stoically ignored, and once more vowed, the first chance he got, to discretely but firmly bade her to vacate his rooms since it wasn't proper anyway that she stayed inside his rooms all the time. He had even taken to change in the adjacent dressing room where she couldn't follow him because of her bulky frame.

But all of this didn't matter any more as soon as Ianto stepped from his rooms. He wore clothes so fine that he almost didn't dare move in them out of fear of wrinkling the expensive, luxurious cloth. But he couldn't deny that he felt fabulous in his black breeches and waistcoat, bold, blood-red coat and tie, and a dark purple shirt. The colours were incredibly daring and flamboyant, but, as Amelia had predicted, he couldn't deny that he looked good in them. Red seemed to be his colour. Who knew?

His heart started hammering like mad when he spotted Jack atop the stairs leading into the west wing. They complimented each other perfectly because Jack wore a striking navy blue coat that brought his eyes out, dark-grey breeches and waistcoat, and a cornflower blue shirt and matching tie. The contrast between their clothes was striking.

Swallowing heavily, Ianto descended the steps. They met on the landing at the top of the stairs descending down into a hall leading to a huge dining room as well as the ballroom.

“You look very nice,” Jack said softly as they stood awkwardly before each other.

“You, too.” Ianto smiled, and shyly averted his eyes.

“I love this colour on you.”

Ianto shrugged sheepishly. “Amelia has a good eye.”

“Remind me to thank her.”

Nodding mutely, Ianto chanced a glance up to meet Jack's eyes.

Smiling softly, the beast held out his arm for him, and with his heart still pounding like mad, Ianto placed his hand into the crook of Jack's elbow.

Together, they descended the stairs, and went into the dining room for an intimate dinner accompanied by soft piano music playing in the corner. Jack even made the effort to use the silverware.

But, as delicious as dinner was, Oswin having outdone herself, it was something else that Ianto wanted. And one look into Jack's eyes across the dining table told him that the other wanted the same.

Placing his napkin onto the table, Ianto rose decidedly. Crossing the distance, he firmly grasped Jack's paws, and pulled the beast up. They made their way into the grand hall where seemingly invisible strings played a heart-wrenching melody. Thousands of glittering candles lightened up the hall, courtesy of Master Smith just as he had promised.

Stopping in the middle of the hall, they turned to each other. Shaking with nerves, Ianto placed one hand onto Jack's strong arm while grasping the beast's with his other. Jack's other paw was placed securely at his waist. Looking each other deep in the eye, the odd couple started to sway and swirl to the music pervading the air.

Time seemed to stand still as they danced through their own private world, and they only stopped when their feet started to hurt, and their limbs felt like jelly. Out of breath, the man and the beast continued to stare at each other even when they had stopped moving.

“Let's go outside,” Jack suggested, and Ianto nodded mutely.

Arm in arm, they left the ballroom through the grand glass doors leading onto a terrace overlooking the snow-decked gardens. Stars sparkled like diamonds in a velvet-blue sky. Mesmerised, they stared up at the breathtaking spectacle.

“The sky's so vast,” Ianto whispered suddenly while staring up. “So endless. I wonder what it would be like to wander among the stars.” He sighed softly, sadly. “But I didn't even get to see the world, how can I dream of seeing the stars then.”

“Why didn't you?” Jack asked equally as soft.

Ianto shrugged. “Obligations to my father, fear, having no money... and... it would have been too depressing travelling alone.”

He startled when Jack's arm suddenly wrapped around his shoulders. “I know what you mean.”

Ianto looked up to the beast, but Jack stared at the stars longingly.

“When I was a child, I wanted all that. The books I read told of the most magical places, but my father laughed about my ambitions and my wish to see the world. I was a prince, and my place was here.” He hung his head. “When I got older, I forgot my dreams, and instead started to be happy with what I could have here. Having balls and surrounding myself with all kinds of people who were far-travelled and exotic.”

His heart beating strongly as he realised how similar he and Jack were, Ianto pressed closer to his warm body. That caused Jack to look down on to him, their eyes meeting. “I wish we could see the world together.”

Jack swallowed heavily. “That would be my greatest wish,” he whispered.

Once more, it seemed as if time froze around them while they looked each other deeply in the eye. A yearning rose up in both of them, something they couldn't even name at first, but when they realised what it was, they, in a sudden, frighteningly clear mutual agreement, retired to Jack's rooms in the west wing without any further words.

The sound of the doors to Jack's chambers falling shut behind them was deafening in Ianto's ears. Only the mad beating of his heart seemed to be even louder so that it surely must be clearly heard throughout the vast chambers. Once more, Ianto looke d Jack deeply in the eye. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he stepped up to Jack, and pressed close to the huge body. “I'm yours, Jack,” he whispered.

Jack's eyes widened as he realised what Ianto was really offering him here. Gulping in fear, joy, and, yes, a spark of arousal he hadn't felt in almost a decade, he nodded reverently, and gently took Ianto's slender hands between his paws, leading him over towards the bed without breaking eye-contact for one second.

Chapter Ten

Stopping before the big four-poster bed, Jack set about disrobing the young man before him as carefully as he could. His heart beat like mad, not because it had been such a long time that he had done this, but because it was Ianto he was doing it with. He was so afraid all of a sudden. Surely, he would do something wrong, or worse, hurt Ianto. He would never forgive himself, but, oh... the dark-haired man looked so ethereal, so beautiful that it hurt, and the expression in his eyes... so full of trust that he all placed into Jack.

Pulling himself together, Jack breathed in deeply before continuing with his task with more confidence.

Ianto was frozen to the spot, allowing Jack to carefully disrobe him, not caring when his fine clothes fluttered to the floor in soft whispers of silk and heavy thuds of linen and velvet. He couldn't take his gaze from Jack's face that was set in utter concentration. Was he feeling as nervous as he did himself? From what the others and Jack himself had told him, Ianto could assume that Jack had done this before, had even a whole lot of experience. But Ianto hadn't. Apart from Lisa, he had never had any interest in carnal pleasures, and the whole village knew how his ambitions towards her had ended after all. But here and now, being faced with Jack, looking at him so intensely, being faced with a beast , there was nothing in the world he wanted more. Deep down inside, he knew that this must be wrong, and he could name a whole lot of people in the village who would exactly tell him that with disdainfully scrunched up noses. Hell, he himself was blushing madly at even thinking about... But he couldn't deny that the thrill of sleeping with a beast, no matter how crazy the thought was – and how in the world should that even work ?! –, made his blood boil. A feeling of sudden freedom and uninhibited boldness sang through his veins in an intoxicating high that even the most thrilling novel, not even the most exhilarating invention he could come up together with his father could ever give him.

And, after all, he could only think about being with Jack , no matter what he looked like.

A shiver of anticipation and deep satisfaction shuddered through Jack as he, before taking in Ianto's naked body for the first time after having dispensed of the last item of clothing, regarded the expression in Ianto's eyes, the anticipation flashing in the blue orbs. It kindled his own ten-fold. For all his countless lovers – and boy, he had known some daring ones –, he had never met someone as open-minded, adventurous, and brave as Ianto Jones. They fit so well together like that. Nobody would have ever thought just by looking at their so completely different tempers. But deep inside, as they had realised, they obviously weren't as different as they had thought...

Finally, Jack lowered his gaze to take in the bared body before him. His heartbeat speeding up, he took in inch over inch of pale, smooth flesh.

Ianto started to squirm under Jack's inquisitive gaze, and he suddenly felt shy before him. Jack, having sensed his unease, stepped up to him, and gently wrapped his arms around Ianto's naked frame. He picked him up as if he weighed nothing.

Ianto allowed Jack to lower his trembling body onto the mattress. His eyes were huge, full of new fear and the strange excitement as he stared up at the beast hovering over him.

Carefully, so as not to crush Ianto, Jack lowered his heavy body onto the young man, deeply gazing into his eyes.

Ianto gasped as Jack's body, his scent, his arms, all suddenly seemed to encompass all of him, and he reached up to bury his hands in the thick, soft fur.

“You're so beautiful,” the beast whispered as he stared at Ianto, drinking all of him in.

Ianto couldn't really return the compliment – and he didn't even think he deserved it himself – for the beast wasn't beautiful. But he was intriguing. And Ianto had always been drawn to strange and intriguing. Aside from that, on the inside, Jack was beautiful to him...

Tightening his fingers in Jack's fur, he drew him down, and placed a soft kiss first on his cheek, then his nose.

Startled, Jack flinched back, and once more looked at Ianto long and hard. The young man gave a soft laugh at the beast's astonishment.

After a few seconds, Jack overcame his awed surprise, and set about making the young man in his arms feel good. He bend his head, buried his nose against Ianto's chest, then his belly, taking in his scent until every pore of him was filled with it. Ianto arched his back into Jack's touch, but tried to suppress a giggle; Jack's cold, moist nose ghosting over his skin tickled. An involuntary moan of shock and arousal replaced the giggles when suddenly, Jack's rough tongue started licking him, gingerly at first, but then, he became bolder and bolder, his tongue touching places of Ianto's body no other living being had ever touched before. His moans got louder, but, surprising himself, he didn't try to hold them back. He cried out, and arched his hips when Jack licked his erection. Burying his trembling fingers into the pillows his head rested on, Ianto completely surrendered to Jack. He couldn't believe that this was really happening, that he was having sex with a beast (that, heck, he was having sex in the first place). Jack's attentions on his body felt so depraved, but so, so good, and sod all the people who would be scandalised. Here, in the privacy of this room, it was nobody's business. They were in their own little world.

All thought came to an abrupt stand-still as Ianto's body froze, his muscles becoming taut like a bow-string, and with a hoarse shout, he climaxed. Panting heavily, he sank down into the bedding, his chest heaving, and he almost recoiled as Jack's rough tongue licked away his spend essence, his manhood much too sensitive for any further touches.

Closing his eyes for a moment, Ianto only tried to get his breathing back. He practically sensed Jack's intense gaze burning into every fibre of his body, and so, after a few seconds, he opened his eyes again, and stared up at Jack. He shivered under the desire he read in the blue eyes.

“I want to see you, too,” he whispered, his burning gaze seeming to devour the beast hovering over him.

Amazingly, Jack seemed to blush under his dark fur, and he averted his eyes despite his obvious desire. “Ianto,” he mumbled evasively. “No.”

Seeing through Jack's reasons, Ianto sat up, and gently cupped his cheek. “There's nothing to be ashamed of,” he whispered fervently.

Swallowing heavily, Jack raised his gaze again to meet Ianto's.

Ianto refused to yield, and eventually, Jack nodded.

With trembling paws, he undid his breeches, and got rid of them together with the rest of his clothes.

Shivering, now it was Ianto drinking in the sight of his... yes, his lover. Tentatively, as if under a spell, Ianto reached out, and touched the weeping member rising from a naked patch of skin at Jack's crotch. The huge body before him shuddered as he was touched so intimately, and Ianto became more daring, closing his fingers around the burning hot skin. His previously calmed down breath came out in panting, excited puffs of air again as his trembling fingers caressed the smooth, steel-hard flesh, his gaze fixed onto what he was doing.

Jack tried to keep still, tried not to make a sound, but it was so hard. It had been so long ago that he had been touched like that. It felt so good.

Suddenly, Ianto took his hand away, Jack letting out an involuntary moan of distress, but in the next second, the young man resolutely tackled him onto his back. Surprised, Jack watched Ianto as he straddled him with one swift movement.

“Ianto?” he asked, unsure.

“I want you to have me,” Ianto answered, his voice only slightly breaking at the end.

Jack's paws flew to Ianto's naked hips, his sharp claws delicately resting against the sensitive skin. “I can't!” he protested. “I don't want to hurt you!”

“You won't.” Ianto gave him a self-confident smile.

“It's inevitable.”

“Then I don't care.”

Ianto's decided gaze was drawn to the bedside table. Heretofore unnoticed by both, a small phial with clear, golden liquid stood there, almost as if beckoning him. Gulping heavily as he realised what it was for, he reached over to grasp the cool glass with shaking fingers. Something told him that it had been Owen placing the oil there. Although constantly disagreeing with Jack, he was a loyal valet who cared deeply for his master. And in that moment, Ianto, despite blushing heavily, was grateful for the other's foresight (and he really didn't want to think about how the valet had come to the conclusion what would happen between them tonight if they hadn't even known themselves).

Jack may have done this for real, but in theory, Ianto knew what to do as well. His reading hadn't always been as innocent as everyone thought. Not even Master Sato knew which certain scenes some of the books he owned contained. And so, with fingers that shook even more violently, Ianto pulled off the delicate glass stopper. Pouring a healthy amount of sweet smelling oil onto the palm of his hand, he reached out to once more grasp Jack's weeping member. A shudder of lust ran through him as he heard Jack's soft moans his touch caused him. He stroked him a few times before he used more oil, and hastily reached behind himself, blushing to the roots. As thoroughly as possible, he rubbed as much oil over his entrance as he could, then, Ianto put the vial aside. He shuffled forward, kneeling above Jack's lap. Gratefully grasping the steadying paw that was held out to him with one hand, he reached for Jack's erection again with the other. Steadying the hard shaft, he slowly sank down. Biting his lip, he bore down, not accepting that his body refused his lover entrance. He trembled as Jack finally breached him, his whole body vibrating with desperate lust, but burning pain as well. Panting heavily, he forced himself down slowly, ignoring Jack's other paw rubbing his hip soothingly, and bidding him to go slow. His eyes squeezed tightly shut, Ianto shook his head violently while trying to gulp in precious air into his lungs. He bit his lip, trying to override the feeling of his body being split in two by the sharp sting of his bitten lip. He wanted this. And nothing on this Earth would stop him from getting it.

After a few agonising minutes, Ianto had taken Jack completely inside himself, his whole body shaking and drenched in sweat. He almost couldn't breathe, the feeling of having Jack inside him was so overwhelming.

For the first time, he opened his eyes that had been tightly shut until now. He met Jack's blue eyes staring up at him, full of awe, desire, but also deep worry. He gave a shaky smile. “I'm fine,” he mouthed, and as if to proof the other, he slightly raised his hips, and started moving gently. The burning feeling returned with a vengeance when Jack's member moved inside his passage, but he ignored it, and instead fiercely concentrated on the flickering sparks of pleasure that were starting to shoot through his body as well.

Chapter Eleven

“Ianto?”

“Hm?”

Absent-mindedly, Jack carefully caressed Ianto's immaculate cheek, always being mindful of his sharp claws while he couldn't turn his gaze from the man lying next to him.

“Are you happy here?”

Ianto opened his eyes, and directly looked at the beast. “I am,” he smiled softly.

Jack's eyes sparkled at that in happiness, and his lips quirked up into a joyful smile. But it fell again when he saw the sudden wistful look that had darkened Ianto's face.

“What's the matter?”

Ianto shook his head. “I miss my father. I wish I could at least see him if only just the once.”

Biting his lips, Jack came to a decision. “Come with me.”

He rose from the bed, and pulled Ianto with him. Not bothered about their nudity, they crossed over to the window where the magic rose was kept on the small table. Beside it lay an artfully wrought hand mirror. Jack picked it up, and weighed it in his paws for a moment. Bad Wolf had gifted it to him. It was his only window into the outside world, but there had never been a living being he had wished to look upon. Maybe now, it finally found its use. He handed it over to Ianto. “It will show you everything you want, just tell it what you want to see,” Jack explained.

Awed, Ianto looked into the mirror, gripping the handle tightly. “I'd like to see my father.”

A greenish shine rippled over the mirror's surface, then suddenly, a picture became clear. Ianto gasped when he recognised his father. But it was no noise of joy because his father was stumbling through the deep snow, becoming weaker and weaker with every step until finally, he collapsed in the icy snow.

“No!” Ianto cried. “He's... he's in trouble! I have to...” He broke off, and bit his lip, fearfully staring at the image of his father freezing in the snow, all alone, and all of that because he'd surely been on his way to rescue Ianto.

“Then...” Jack's voice sounded pained and lost, so, Ianto looked up at him. The beast turned away from him. “Then you have to go to him.”

“What?” Had he heard correctly?

“Go, you are no longer my prisoner,” Jack whispered.

Ianto gaped at him, but sudden, powerful hope infused his whole being. He smiled at Jack although the beast couldn't see him. “Thank you for understanding.” He frowned when Jack hung his head in defeat, and, rolling his eyes, he stepped around the broad back. Laying his hand onto Jack's cheek, he forced the beast to look at him.

“It's not goodbye for long. I'll come back. I promise.”

Tentative hope stole itself into Jack's gaze, and Ianto shook his head fondly. He leaned up to kiss Jack fully on the lips, ignoring the sharp tusks, and thus shocking both of them with his actions. “What makes you think I could leave you behind,” he whispered.

Too emotional to speak, Jack nodded.

Ianto returned the nod, and then hurried towards the heap of his clothes lying on the ground.

Chapter Twelve

Worried, Ianto once more put a cold cloth onto his father's brow who was burning up with a fever. Ianto didn't know what had happened since Jack had released his father, but at one point, he must have decided to come looking for him. He hadn't come very far because he'd obviously already been sick; Ianto had found him only a few miles away from their village, unconscious, collapsed in the snow. He'd contemplated taking his father back to the castle where he would have had help caring for him, but in the end, he had decided to take him home since it was much closer.

His father stirring suddenly startled Ianto.

“Ianto?” The Doctor looked up at him with dull eyes, barely daring to hope.

“Shh, you're home,” Ianto hushed when his father tried to sit up in agitation upon seeing his son whom he had thought lost.

“But... how? Did you escape?”

“No, no,” Ianto shook his head. “Jack let me go.”

“Jack?”

“That's the beast's name.”

The Doctor frowned. “And he let you go just like that?”

“He did. We've... come to an understanding. In the past couple of days, I learned a lot about him. We learned a lot about each other. I'm only sorry that you had to worry. And now you're ill because of me.”

“Oh no.” The Doctor waved his hand dismissively. “Don't worry about me. I'm just happy that you're alright.”

“Yes.” Ianto bit his bottom lip. “Father... I have to go back.”

The Doctor's eyes widened in trepidation. “Why? Do you have some sort of deal?”

“No, but...” Ianto couldn't look his father in the eye any more.

The Doctor frowned again, not sure what he read in his son's gaze. Gently, he reached up to place his fingers under Ianto's chin to draw his face towards him once more.

“I want to go back,” Ianto finally answered, meeting his father's gaze.

“What about Edinburgh?” the Doctor wanted to protest, but then, a sudden realisation seized him out of the blue, and, although slightly startled at these revelations, he smiled gently and encouragingly at Ianto. “Of course,” he said. “But maybe you could find it in your heart to still visit with an old man from time to time, eh?”

“But father!” Ianto protested. “You're coming with me!”

The Doctor grimaced. “I have to admit, I'm not very eager to face the beast... Jack,” he amended, “so soon again. He held me prisoner, after all, and his appearance is just so... wrong...” He shrugged helplessly, and couldn't help himself but let worried eyes for his son's welfare travel over the young man.

“No, he's not,” Ianto protested vehemently, then his fierce expression softened again somewhat. “You just have to give him a chance. Please. For me.”

“Of course.” The Doctor took Ianto's hand with a smile, and squeezed it in his gnarled fingers. “When...”

A sudden brisk knocking at the door made both of them startle.

“Who could that be? At this hour?” Ianto wondered, and, warily went to the door.

A strange man stood on the threshold, scrutinising Ianto with his dull, cold eyes.

Ianto gulped, and gripped the door handle harder to steel himself. Otherwise, he would have instinctively backed away from the man.

“May I help you?”

“My name is Davros,” the man said in a brittle but oily voice. “I am warden at Skaro Asylum. I've come for your father.”

White-hot rage surged up inside Ianto, and he surged at the man who had dared to invade his home. “You will not take him away!” he shouted, the surprised old man backing away for a second. “He's not crazy.”

“You should have heard him, Ianto,” John's taunting voice suddenly sounded, and the man sauntered up the steps to Ianto's home. “He came into the pub, his eyes wide and feverish, screaming madly about a beast in a castle that held you prisoner. And yet,” he smiled a mocking smile, “you're here, thank God, save and sound. Just as I expected.”

Ianto gritted his teeth. He realised what his father's tale must have sounded like. If he had been in stead of the villagers, he would have thought him mad as well.

“I'm telling the truth!” The Doctor had suddenly appeared behind Ianto, shoving past his son to confront John.

John smiled a mocking little smile. “Then come on, Doctor, tell us again what that beast looked like.”

Ianto winced, and he tried to grab his father's arm. He would only make it worse. Surely, it would be best if they simply sat it out. But the Doctor wouldn't be stopped. Indignant, and not realising the danger he was in, he loudly described the beast to the whole village that had, by now, gathered around the Jones house, much to Ianto's trepidation. A lot of people threw the old man pitying looks, but a lot of them desperately tried to contain their laughter. Glaring daggers at Davros and John who had started snickering unbecomingly, Ianto then turned his attention towards the villagers again, trying to catch their eye, and begging them for help. He tried to spot Rhys and Rory, Tommy or River among them, hoping for their support. But when he spotted them, they looked unsure about what to do. Going against John could be dangerous. They all knew that. The ex-soldier was known for his occasional violent outbursts. And he was very popular, charming everyone if he had to.

An outraged cry of his father ma de Ianto spin around again. Horrified, he had to watch, as two of Davros' men had grabbed his father, dragging him to a barred cart Davros had brought.

“John!” he shouted, and rushed up to the other man. “He's not crazy, you know that.”

John feigned a heavy sigh. “I'm so sorry, Ianto.” He placed his hand on to the younger man's that still clutched his arm. Ianto had to withstand the urge to snatch his hand away. “But... I could help to resolve this little misunderstanding, if...”

“If what?”

“If you marry me.” John grinned charmingly, but it only disgusted Ianto.

He pushed the other man away. “Never!”

“Your choice,” John answered coldly, and started down the steps.

The desperation he was feeling choking him up for a moment, Ianto then rushed back into the house. Frantically, he searched his luggage that he had brought from the castle, looking for the mirror Jack had gifted him. Despite the situation, Ianto had to smile fondly. The stupid idiot. Ianto knew very well why Jack had given him the mirror; because he didn't believe that Ianto would, despite his promise, return to him once he was back into civilisation and in his right mind again. And because he could understand the other's deep-rooted fears, he had accepted the gift without protest, but he swore, as soon as this mess outside was solved, he and his father would leave this village. He would return to Jack's side, and together, they would find a way to break the curse.

His fingertips bumped against smooth, cold glass inside his bag, and relieved, he pulled forth the mirror. He rushed back outside.

“My father's not crazy, I can proof it!” he shouted after John. Surprised, the other man turned to him again. Ianto raised the mirror he clutched tightly in his hand like a lifeline. “Show me the beast.”

The mirror started shimmering in a soft green light. He turned it towards the villagers so that they could all see for themselves that neither the Doctor nor Ianto were crazy.

The moment he heard a desperate howl coming from the mirror, Ianto knew that it had been a mistake. He didn't know why Jack was in such a turmoil, howling his anguish to the skies. Surely he still didn't doubt Ianto's return? But no matter the reason, now every single person had witnessed not a creature that was sad and desperate, they only saw a savage beast. He could see it in their horrified faces. Lowering the mirror again, he pressed it against his chest as if to protect Jack from their hateful looks.

“Is it dangerous?” a woman dared ask.

“No, no,” Ianto assured. “He's very friendly and kind.” But he saw that despite her attempt to convince herself otherwise, the woman believed what everyone here believed: That Jack was a monster.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd say you have feelings for that monster,” John sneered, suddenly appearing at his side.

“A monster?” Ianto hissed incredulously, pressing the mirror tighter against his chest. “The only monsters here are you.” And there, he encompassed Davros and his men, and even the villagers surrounding them, and glaring hostilely at him. “And you're the biggest monster of all,” Ianto seethed, and spat in John's face.

Sneering, the Captain growled at Ianto, and, quick as a striking snake, grasped the young man's wrist. “You're as mad as your father!” he hissed, and wrenched the mirror from Ianto's hand. He spun around to the villagers, holding the mirror above his head that still showed Jack. “The beast is a danger!” he shouted dramatically. “It will come in the night, coming after your children!”

Shocked gasps and outcries started branding through the crowd like a wave.

“No!” Ianto shouted back angrily. “That's a lie.”

But John didn't heed his protest, instead, he addressed the villagers again. “I say we go there, and kill the beast! Who'll come with me?”

Loud roars could be heard from almost every man and woman. Even the ones Ianto had thought were better than that were swept away by John's hateful tirades that were, unfortunately, awfully convincing, sounding as if he only wanted what was best for them all.

“I won't allow you to hurt him!” He rushed up to John, and tried to wrestle the mirror back from the Captain, but the ex-soldier was too strong for him, even if Ianto was taller. He pushed Ianto roughly at Davro's waiting men. “Lock him up in their cellar. His father too. We can't allow them to escape so they can warn the creature.”

Both father and son were struggling fiercely, but the merciless men wrestled them over to the outside steps leading down into the basement. Colourful Welsh curses flying from Ianto's lips, they were thrown down there, and the hatch was pushed shut and locked behind them.

Breathing heavily with helpless rage, Ianto had to listen to John further raising the crowd. To his horror, all of them indeed stood behind John. The shouting for the beast's head became softer and softer, the angry mob marching away. Then, silence reigned.

His breath shaking, Ianto stared at the closed cellar hatch, so as if it would vanish into thin air if he only stared long enough at the wood.

“Ianto...”

He spun around to his father, ignoring his compassionate voice.

“We have to get out of here. I have to warn Jack.” He marched over to his father's work bench, and started looking over all the tools, touching them hastily. “Father!” With a pleading, urging expression, he looked over to his father.

The old man looked undecided for a moment, then, fierce determination transformed his thin face, and he joined his son at the work bench, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt. “I'll think of something. You see, I have this wonderful new screwdriver that...”

Ianto turned out his father's prattling, and let his searching eyes stray through the work shop. What he needed the most right now was an axe or, preferably, black powder or some other explosive chemicals...

His gaze got caught on something suddenly. He blinked. And had to withstand the urge to slap his forehead, and roll his eyes as the realisation hit.

“Father! Come, help me.”

The Doctor looked up, his eyes wide and confused like an owl facing the light, and his gnarled, quick hands froze in their attempt to piece something together that could help them escape.

“We can use the door leading up into the house,” Ianto explained while moving away a heavy cupboard that had barred the hidden staircase for years now.

The Doctor blinked at him, then he smiled sheepishly. “Oh yeah, I forgot it's even there.”

Together, they moved the furniture away, and after Ianto had stemmed himself against the door, it sprang open. Hurrying up the dusty stairs, he broke open the door leading into the sitting room. As the door crashed open, Something heavy crashed to the ground on the other side that he knew to be some crockery standing on a dresser, but he couldn't have cared less at the moment.

As he rushed into the stable to get Myfanwy, his worries for Jack and the other castle inhabitants returned with a vengeance. He only hoped that when they saw that John had the mirror, Jack would wake up from his moping he surely was in because he missed Ianto and didn't believe in his return, realise Ianto was in trouble, and take action. They only had to hold on until he was there... Sure, Ianto didn't know what he of all people was supposed to change about a full blown fight between an angry mob of humans and a fierce bunch of animated household objects, but he had to try. And more important, he had to be at Jack's side, no matter what.

Chapter Thirteen

The ride back to the castle seemed endless, but finally, in the silver moonlight, the tower tops became visible above the trees.

“Come on, girl,” he urged Myfanwy. The loyal horse obeyed, and quickened her gallop.

Even from a distance, they heard angry shouting, high-pitched screams, and loud crashes. The entrance portal was thrown wide open, and inside the entrance hall and before the castle, chaos had erupted. It seemed as if every single villager was wrapped up in a fierce fight against the castle's inhabitants. But Ianto couldn't care less about that at the moment.

Vicious blizzards suddenly twitched through the sky in a deadly dance, and a movement from the corner of his eye caught Ianto's attention. He looked up, and sucked in a shocked breath. There, high up on a parapet of one of the towers stood John. He held some kind of club high above his head, and at his feet lay...

“John!” he screamed as loud as he could. “Don't! Jack, please!”

John as well as Jack had frozen as Ianto's voice drifted up towards them, John in irritation, Jack in hope. His heart beating like mad, Ianto watched as the heretofore despondent beast rose suddenly, and started fighting back against the ex-soldier.

“You have to help him,” the Doctor urged, and, nodding, Ianto slid from Myfanwy's back. Weaselling his way between the fighting parties, he rushed up the stairs leading to the west wing.

Stopping sharply at the balustrade of Jack's balcony, Ianto tried to make out the two adversaries. The sizzling blizzards basked everything in harsh contrasts that made it hard for him to see anything in the dark. Loud thunder started rolling, sounding dangerously close by.

His head snapped to the right when he heard John's taunting voice echo through the night, “Come on, freak, he'll never be yours. Not if he can have someone like me.”

“Wanna bet,” Ianto growled, and, shuddering with worry at Jack's answering, furious roar, climbed over the balustrade. Rain started falling suddenly; at first only a few drops, then heavier and heavier. The dark clouds obscured the moon almost completely now, and the rain made the roof tiles slick. More than once, Ianto almost slipped on his way down on to the parapet Jack and John were fighting on.

“You're the freak, John!” Ianto called, hoping to distract John.

But the other man didn't seem to be fazed by Ianto's presence nor his taunts because he answered immediately, his sneering voice sounding from out of the dark. “Then we'll fit right together, Eye Candy. As soon as your precious beast's head hangs on my wall, you'll be my husband; to love me –” A crash sounded, almost as if John had struck at Jack, but instead hit solid stone, “– and to honour me.”

“No!” Jack's roaring scream made Ianto flinch, and he could make out schemes in the dark right before him. He gasped in horror as the scene before him was alighted by a blizzard; Jack throwing himself at John, but the Captain rammed his elbow into Jack's side, the white shirt there red with blood. Jack cried out in pain, stumbled, and lost his footing, tumbling over the edge of the parapet.

Without thinking, Ianto rushed forward. He crashed into John so that the other man tumbled to the slick ground while Ianto managed to shakily keep his footing. He bend down on instinct because right before his feet lay John's pistol. His hand didn't even tremble as he picked the weapon up, and levelled it at John. He stared the other man in the eye, completely in control, not feeling anything. John's eyes widened in fear for a split-second as he realised that, to protect the beast, Ianto would really pull the trigger.

“I-ianto,” he stammered, scrambling up onto his knees. “Please, I beg you!”

Ianto sneered at John's disgusting image of cowardice, and he took in a deep breath to give a scathing retort, but a warm, gentle paw on his arm made him flinch. He looked up into Jack's eyes. Jack's soothing, grounding touch suddenly made him lose all the iron-tight control he had. Pleadingly, he silently begged Jack for help as his whole body started trembling, tears gathering in his eyes, the arm aiming at John lowering slightly.

“Leave him, Ianto,” Jack said softly.

“But...” Once again, Ianto raised his arm, levelling the weapon shakily at John. “He wanted... he did.”

“He's not worth it.” Jack took his paw from Ianto's arm, and instead reached up to caress his face lovingly. “I couldn't bear that you sullied your hands with blood.”

Breathing heavily, Ianto looked at him a moment longer, then at John. In the end, he nodded, and lowered the weapon. Suddenly disgusted, he flung it away from himself into the abyss. He reached for Jack's paw still laying on his cheek, and squeezed it.

Without a word or a backward glance at John, Ianto turned around, and started climbing up the roof back towards the balcony. Jack was right behind him, his strong arms helping him keep his balance.

On shaky legs, Ianto landed on the balcony again after safely climbing over the balustrade. He turned around to help Jack as well, remembering that the beast was hurt. Worried, he reached over the balustrade. Jack smiled at him, and stemmed himself up the rest of the way.

A shot ripped through the air.

For a split-second, Ianto thought it was the thunder, but then, Jack let out an inhuman roar of pain, his arms flailing, and he started falling backwards as he lost his balance on the slick roof tiles. Ianto leaped forward, and managed to grasp the lapels of Jack's shirt, pulling the beast towards him. Over Jack's shoulder, he saw John, sneering at them with hatred. He aimed the additional pistol again that he must have kept hidden somewhere in his coat. His heart stopping for a second, Ianto pulled Jack over the balustrade, desperately urging him on. But before Jack could climb over the balustrade, another shot rang. His whole body convulsed, and he crashed forward onto the floor of the balcony. Ianto couldn't hold his weight. Scared, he chanced a look down where John stood. A grim expression on his face, the Captain started climbing up to them, determined to finish what he had started. Frantically, Ianto looked around for a weapon, but there was nothing with which he could protect Jack, and for a bitter moment, he regretted sparing John only minutes before.

The other man came nearer, but suddenly, a mighty rumble sounded, the castle shook on its foundations. Ianto swivelled around only to see another petal fall, the second last.

John's cry made him turn his attention to him again. The shingles of the tower roof he was scaling suddenly broke away, careening into the dark abyss. John's arms flailed, but he couldn't find any purchase. Screaming, he plummeted into the ravine separating the castle from the forest.

Not caring about John's fate, Ianto rushed to Jack. The beast laid on the floor, his whole body shaking with pain. His breath came out in heavy puffs, and to his horror, Ianto saw blood running from the corner of Jack's lips.

“You have to hold on,” he urged him, shakily pressing his hands onto the severest looking wound, precious warm blood seeping through his fingers immediately.

Jack shook his head weakly. “It's over.”

“No! Don't you dare.”

“It's all right,” Jack whispered. He raised a trembling, weak paw to place it against Ianto's cheek which the young man immediately grasped tightly. “You came back to me.”

“Of course I came back,” Ianto managed to get out, his voice choking on his emotions. “I promised, didn't I.”

Jack nodded, smiling. “At least, I get to see you for one last time.”

Ianto shook his head violently. “You'll get through this. I'll help you. You will...”

Ianto flinched as Jack's heavy paw slipped from his cheek, his claws scraping over his skin. His head sank back, his eyelids fluttering before they slipped closed.

Letting out a choked sob, Ianto pulled the lifeless body into his arms.

Epilogue

Unbeknownst to the grieving young man over and over begging his lover not to leave him, the last petal of the rose fell. It sailed to the ground where it joined its pitifully withered brethren. In that moment, a deathly silence descended over the castle. The rain stopped, the thunder quietened down. It was as if time stood still for that eternal second.

Only a moment ago, the castle's inhabitants had been joyful with their victory over the intruders, now, they were horrified to watch as one after the other froze forever, turning for good into the household objects they had been cursed to be all those years ago.

Ianto's pleading sobs were the only noises that echoed through the eerily silent building, his whispered “I love you” was being carried through all the halls, and rooms, and hallways as if by a redeeming magic wind.

Suddenly, the whole castle started shaking in its foundations again doomily, much stronger than before. Ianto felt the tremors grip his whole body, but it only made him cling harder to Jack's still body, trying to protect him even in death, prepared to die with him should the castle crumble around them now for good.

A being looking like a young blond woman appeared next to the table holding the withered rose. She smiled as she watched the heartbreaking scene before here, then, she raised her hand. A golden mist started swirling at the bottom of the glass dome, taking with it the black, decayed rose petals that became fresh and bright red again. The glass exploded into nothing, the golden mist became brighter and brighter. Suddenly, together with the rose petals, it was carried through the air until it enveloped Jack's still body, raising him into the air.

Ianto let out a shocked gasp, scrambling away, and with wide eyes, he stared up at Jack's body suspended in golden, swirling light. His eyes became even bigger when, right before him, Jack started to change. Fur-covered paws morphed into smooth, human hands and feet, the massive body shrank into the muscular, slim form of a man, and the animal-like head turned into that of a human.

Gently, the swirling mist carried the body to the ground again, lowering it gently after only a few moments.

Ianto stood frozen for a second, then, gulping, he dared take a step forward, and reached out to touch the impossible. He jumped back when the man drew in a huge, gasping breath, his body rearing upright with new life, stumbling to his feet.

Astonished, he looked down at his human hands where for so long had only been hairy paws and sharp claws. But then, as if sensing Ianto's presence or remembering he was there, he spun around, staring at the young man in wonder.

Ianto could only stare back, spellbound by the vision he faced.

Oh God! The man standing before him was so ridiculously good-looking; it was the same handsome man he had seen on the painting in Jack's quarters. It was exciting and frightening. But when Ianto met the stranger's eyes, almost drowning in their expressive blue, he calmed down all of a sudden for he recognised them, knowing for sure who stood before him although he had actually known long before that instinctively.

“Jack,” he breathed, new tears – but this time from happiness – gathered in his eyes, and he dared stumble a few steps closer.

Jack met him halfway, and grasped his upper arms. Ianto shuddered in bliss when Jack touched him with his bare, human hands for the first time.

The smile Jack gifted him with almost seemed to blind him in its brilliance, and, as if magically drawn to him, Ianto pressed himself flush against Jack, and crushed their lips together. Jack's arms came up around him to hold him close.

A sudden warmth enveloped them, and a tingling, peculiar feeling spread through Ianto's body. But by far, it was not alarming enough to end the kiss, so he simply kept on kissing the man in h is arms for a little while longer.

When they finally broke apart, gasping for breath, their eyes went wide when they noticed what had happened around them. Gone were the black, threatening-looking castle walls with their hideous gargoyle statues. Instead, white stone and beautiful marble statues of Greek Gods surrounded them. The heavy rain clouds were gone, and instead, the early morning sun was shining brightly down onto them (surely, this must be magic; it never was that sunny in Wales).

Master and Madame Smith, Mistress Toshiko and Owen, having come to life again, stumbled up to the two men, but before they had reached them, a golden mist enveloped them, too, and, in a swirl, they changed. Instead of the candelabra, a tall, gangly man with wild hair and a bow tie stood before them. In the teapot's stead, a middle aged woman with brown-red hair stumbled against John Smith who steadied her with an arm around her waist. The writing quill turned into a petite, exotic looking woman, and where Owen the clock had stood, a small, skinny man with a pinched expression had appeared.

All of a sudden, Jack let go of Ianto, and rushed up to his friends to encompass them in a crushing hug, all of them laughing joyously while tears of happiness streamed down their faces.

A happy cry of “ Mum !” made them all look up to see Janet racing towards them with Luke on her back. The golden mist enveloped these two as well, propelling a young boy right into his mother's arms.

Basking in their joy for a few moments, eventually, a blissful Jack dragged Ianto inside. They left the west wing with their friends in tow, and everywhere they passed through the castle that was now bright and friendly in the interior as well, they encountered more and more servants that had been turned back human. Laughing and crying tears of joy, Jack swept them all into an exuberant embrace. Along the way, a brunette woman in rider's garb came running towards them, and threw herself into Owen's arms.

Leaving these two behind for now, Jack and Ianto came into the entrance hall where a lot of servants were gathered. And outside the gates, Ianto's father was waiting, together with the hesitant villagers that must have come back when the curse had been broken, making them remember whom they had forgotten for so long. Most of them looked deeply ashamed because they had been part of the attack on the castle, and also looking confused and hopeful as if unsure of their welcome.

But suddenly, the uneasiness was broken as Master Smith let out a happy squeak, and rushed forward directly into the enthusiastic arms of River Song who pulled the suddenly flustered man into a steaming kiss.

Both sides recognising their loved ones who the villagers had simply forgotten because of the curse, people stormed towards each other in awe.

Standing a little farther back, their hands entwined, Jack and Ianto observed all the happy reunions taking place right before their eyes. Ianto spotted Amelia who shared a passionate kiss with Rory (at least, he hoped it was Amelia kissing Rory, but he thought he now remembered his mother's apprentice being a fierce red-head). Gwen and Rhys did the same, and Toshiko was surrounded by her father, Master Sato, as well as Tommy Brockless who, to Ianto's astonishment, seemed to be her fiancée. A few feet away, Madam Smith was reunited with her husband and Luke with his father whom he had only met when he was a baby, right before the curse (Ianto could ask them later how a tea cup was supposed to grow over the years).

Ianto turned his head towards Jack when the prince squeezed his hand tightly. He was confronted with a beaming, warm smile that made Ianto weak in the knees.

“Thank you,” Jack whispered, heart-felt.

Up on the balcony of the west wing, unseen by any living soul, Bad Wolf looked down onto her prince and his love, and she smiled.

End