A/N: This was inspired by Robin McKinley's 'Beauty', and I don't actually know when my head started to adapt it to Bleach, but the connection happened, and, well... Here we are.

It took a while to try and adapt Rukia's personality to Beauty – that woman is anything but submissive, so plot devices that worked in the Disney version would not work here – but I kind of sort of think that, though I've had to go more down her nobility roots, I've kind of managed to kind of get the IchiRuki banter in, and I've gotten a bit of a twist in there that no editions I've read or seen have, so it's a little more original.

I noticed when it was being written that there was a Bleach Beauty and the Beast, but I have not read it, but when I read the summary it just sounded like the Disney one, so I have in no way, shape or form plagiarised it. In fact, I should probably read it just in case there has been simultaneous brain waves...

It sounds odd, but... I've been kind of imagining Ichigo as the beast not as some hairy wolfy bear type, but as his Hollow in his fight to subdue it with the Vaizards before Hueco Mundo, so if you're not up to that part, you might want to look it up so that you see what I see... in my head.

Rukia has her hair from manga chaps 1 – 423 up until I mention when she cuts it in the story, so if you're imagining, it's shoulder length from the beginning (every fic I read at the moment, I see her with her new hair, so when the author says she puts it over her shoulder or something, I just sit there until it clicks).

This has been a really rather substantial rant, but I'd prefer to explain everything now and have less author's notes in the long run.

In terms of updating, it'll be around a fixed time. One of my all time favourite fics at the moment is updated monthly, and it drives me crazy waiting because I'm so addicted to it, so I'm thinking fortnightly – every other Sunday or Monday probably.

It's set in a medieval times, not modern times – just an fyi. I'd say Edo period or whatever, but I wouldn't want to embarrass myself because I don't actually know the Japanese times.

Italics are thoughts. Bold italics are an omniscient type narrator who speaks about canon and relates it to this AU.

There's a bit in here that won't appear for a few chapters in, but was inspired by honest to God the scariest episode of British sci-fi drama Doctor Who ever. Except it shouldn't be scary in this (I hope). Just a bit odd at first.

Thank you for taking an interest, and I hope you enjoy :)

There's this dream I keep having. The snow if falling as if we don't care the rain has frozen, and you're stood with me as if you don't have anywhere else to be. You don't judge me. You don't care I abandoned you. You accept me and my reasons and love me whole. And I can't stay... because I promised myself I wouldn't keep you to myself if I was keeping you from your humanity. And then you freeze. And then your face cracks. And then you don't accept me. And you never look at me again the same way you did when we said farewell. And the snow turns to rain.

And I wake up. And you're not there next to me.

And suddenly waking is the nightmare. The guilt is so great I can't breathe, and I'm so scared. Of being alone. Of you being alone.

But I know I've done the right thing. Because you're safe. You're human. And that's all I could ever ask of you.

Whilst the maid listened through the key hole, Rukia Kuchiki took the more dignified role and listened through the very grain of the wooden door she was leaning against. Though her face portrayed no emotion, internally she was beginning to get worried. Behind this door, in the drawing room of the Kuchiki mansion, her father, Byakuya Kuchiki was learning about his future in the national army. The Captain – one of only 13 in the entirety of the military – had helped to lead their country to victory against an opposing neighbour, but Byakuya has not come away unscathed; his need for a cane was definite, whilst his position, especially as there was no longer a war to fight, was questionable.

But Rukia was not stupid. She had an idea of what her situation after this meeting would be, especially as the lieutenant she knew would be a suitable match for her in her father's eyes was sat next to him, in the room before her, learning his fate.

The wind ruffled the hem of her white kimono decorated with cherry blossoms, and the pond in the centre of the courtyard she was at the edge of had frozen in the colder, winter temperatures. The maid before her shivered in the icy gusts, but Rukia herself did not flinch; winter was her favourite, preferred time. She loved the beauty associated with the snow and ice, and the cold did not seem to bother her nearly as much as anybody else she knew – perhaps with the exception of the boy Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya.

The pointlessness of her listening at the door became increasingly apparent, and, sighing, she moved down the steps into the centre courtyard that the Kuchiki mansion was designed around. She gracefully stepped to the frozen pond, stood halfway along the small wooden bridge crossing the water, and stared at the koi carp moving silently beneath the glassy surface.

She had no idea how much time passed before the sliding door snapped open and the head Captain Yamamoto emerged. She had been engulfed in her thoughts and worries – and certainties. She stayed where she was, but bowed to Yamamoto as he walked down the walkway to the exit as a lady of her breeding should, and glided as she had been taught by her elocution mistress when he was out of sight. She approached her father and bowed again.

"I have been ordered to go observe the final negotiations between Head Captain Yamamoto and the head of state from our neighbouring country" – that was surprising, she mused – "and when I return, we shall host a party in honour of your engagement."

She knew it. She had actually bet her lady-in-waiting Rangiku Matsumoto money that this would happen, the doubtful maid surely feeling foolish now. But as she was not tactless, she must act a submissive, clueless woman to these important males in her life.

"Oh? Who to, Father?" If they only knew just how clever she was.

"I have chosen the match on your behalf." But, in one way of thinking, behind every great man is a great woman.

"You shall marry my lieutenant, Renji Abarai." But that is not a great man.

The week her father was gone felt like the longest in Rukia's life, yet, at the same time, it flew by; a week was not an exceedingly long time to plan a party when the proper rules of society had to be considered. It was, however, customary in their culture for the fiancée to completely plan the engagement party to her fiancé, as a show of proof of how good a wife she would be to her husband. If she failed at this, her future husband's image of her would be tarnished before she even step foot down the aisle.

But Rukia was exceedingly clever. Her planning was second to none – her mother dying young meant that, before the war, at a very early age, she was already organising evenings on her father's behalf at which noble families attended, so her experience played to her advantage.

The complete absorption of her time also had an advantage – if she was worrying about how to not cause an incident between families just by choosing the wrong flowers to be the centre pieces of the formal dining room, she was not worrying about having to spend the rest of her life with an absolute... baboon like Renji Abarai. Despite her overload of work and consequential stress, the man had followed her around all week like a little lost puppy, telling her all about his varying attributes, whilst not once contributing to any of the work Rukia was struggling slightly with.

Not that she would ever ask for his help (like he'd choose anything right anyway...) , but he still proved himself to be the most annoying and unhelpful person she had ever had the displeasure to meet even before she had 'even step foot down the aisle'. If she had her way, she would have just as much right to call off the wedding if her betrothed was intolerable as Abarai had.

However, gender inequality issues was unfortunately not at the top of the list of pressing matters that the country was dealing with at the moment, and Rukia would just have to accept that her intelligence – and artistic talent – would be going to waste over the years.

But right now, there was a rather serious pressing matter that Rukia was having issues getting past.

Today was Saturday, her father had been gone a week, and was expected back the night before. By this time – it had just gone 2pm – she had already sent out messengers to attempt to locate him. One on horseback had managed to do a 200 mile round trip to return with the information that he had last been seen leaving an inn with his entourage, and had not been seen since, and neither had the messenger passed them on the main road back.

The messenger contemplated whether, as they had left later than would have been suggested for them to arrive at a modest time on the Friday night, they had taken a shortcut through a forest near the inn and village they had last been seen rather than go 'round the lake to arrive back to the manor, but then quickly dismissed the idea almost as soon as he suggested it. It was a scary looking woods, in his opinion, and if he was a part of his master Byakuya's entourage, he would have insisted to Rukia's father that they should not go that way, which meant that his bringing up the subject was completely meaningless, and that, actually, he should not have said anything, as he has taken up far too much of Rukia-sama's time – he could see just how busy she was, arranging for the party – and, oh, silly him, still taking up much of her time. In fact, he'll be going for a nap now – tiring work, riding all that way – and wished her the best of luck for the party.

Her stoic face nearly cracked into one of complete and total disbelief, but she had a lot of self control, and the babbling, middle-aged rider was the absolute least of her concerns. Not only was her father not here, but she had just received word that the chef's entrees of cheese soufflés had dropped, and Abarai was still at her back, obviously worried that he would have to fight off any potential suitors in the form of well-known florists.

If she got through this night, she completely promised herself she would allow Rangiku and Momo Hinamori, another of her lady's maids, to plan her wedding. She deserved it after how magnificent tonight would be.

At least if my father shows up...

She sat at the head of the table in the empty formal dining room, silky, violet kimono creased, swirling her glass around and watching the burgundy wine slide around the inside. She was not angry – my father would not have come for some trivial reason – but felt more lonely.

Which felt like pure madness, considering that not half an hour ago, this entire room was filled to the brim with nobles wearing silk kimonos, pearls, furs and diamonds, so really, she had never socialised with so many people...

Who had all left, after not seeing her father, treating it as a snub to their families.

How they would solve this she did not know, and currently she was too exhausted to care.

The silk of her deep red kimono rustled as she pulled her right leg up and held it to her chest against her white obi, not bothering with decorum, and continued to make circular motions with the stem of her wine glass. She sighed.

My father... Her father...

He had left her here to the dogs. They could not even make the engagement announcement without him, and, though her wit was sharp and cruel comebacks were on the tip of her tongue most of the night, she had had to let herself be patronized by arrogant, ugly middle aged men, who would not know class if it hit them in the face, no matter how ancestrally noble their family were.

It had almost killed her not to be so cruel to those men that she caused them to cry, but she did not – not for her own dignity, but for her father's. His pride meant more to him than anything, at times, she suspected more than herself.

She could no longer find it within herself to care. She had bothered with this for so many years, and she still could not escape; she now was giving herself up to becoming a baby-making machine for her father. She no longer worried because she fully now no longer cared.

She was really beginning to hate this life.

Of everybody in the entirety of the world, only two knew the real Rukia Kuchiki – the loud, arrogant, slightly-boyish tempered woman, not the demure girl her father and supposed fiancé knew her to be. These two people were her ladies maids – Rangiku Matsumoto and Momo Hinamori.

Of course, they should never, ever, ever tell anybody what she was really like. A woman in Rukia's position should never act how Rukia did.

And how Rukia was acting right now was atypical of an 18 year old girl, who was scared to death but trying not to show it.

Her father had been gone for three weeks. She was inside her room, with no attention being paid to acting like a woman. She wore one of the young stable boy's pairs of pants that Rangiku had swiped for her, along with one of the loose undershirts, and her hair was held up messily with a few hair slides. She wore no make-up, and she was sat lounging on a chair underneath a window in her boudoir.

Another tear tracked down her face, and she angrily wiped it away; no matter who she was with, she was not one for showing weakness. She blew breath out slowly through her puckered mouth and concentrated on breathing calmly, not helped by that her maids were sat on a small sofa a few feet away from her, just watching Rukia gather her senses.

"I am fine, stop worrying."

Momo smiled a little. "We're not worrying. We know it'll be fine."

"You cannot know that."

Rangiku sighed, with a small, concealed chuckle. "Yes, we can."

The youngest girl shook her head in inconsolable disagreement. More tears fell, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to stop the flow. This time, Rukia sighed in another attempt to calm down, this one a little more fruitful.

"What will happen... If he does not return? If he has been reunited with Hisana?"

"... I don't know, Rukia."

One month to the day that he left, Byakuya returned, with his entourage in tow.

All looked worse for wear as they arrived outside the Kuchiki mansion, the horses' hooves making the only imperfections in the freshly laid snow, some lone flakes still falling from the grey sky. The entire staff lined up outside the mansion to greet their returned master, relief on some faces, cold, trained masks on others.

Rukia had her mask on, her red kimono and purple obi contrasting with her diamond glinting surroundings. She watched as her father did not even search for her in the small crowd, only got down from his horse and immediately walked inside. Her head followed him until he was out of sight, and then snapped down to her clasped hands, eyes fighting to show emotion in their murky violet depths. The stress was apparent from the bags in her eyes, but her posture would not betray her. She sensed a presence approaching her, and looked up to see her fiancé approach her, and offer her his arm, which she accepted, and was escorted back into the warmth.

And directly into her father's study.

She did not know why, but she felt nervous. Her palms began to sweat, and she could hear her heartbeat in her eyes. She seated herself in a chair facing the mahogany desk Byakuya was sat behind, and waited.

It took him a few minutes to begin, as he shuffled through neglected paperwork, but when he did, he spoke doing something he rarely ever did – he look directly into Rukia's eyes.

He spoke of a castle, grounds, beauty, a slightly more western-influenced culture than she was used to.

He told her of a monster who turn into a man the day of, before and after a full moon before returning to the monster form. He spoke of the servants there, the beauty of the palace, the shackles that held him as the man once again became a monster.

He did not apologise for his grave mistake that would see her leave for who knows how long. He paid no attention to his horrified lieutenant. He did not take into account how stoic Rukia's face was.

He simply asked his late wife for forgiveness at her shrine that night, and prepared for her journey to the beast's castle the next morning.

There was nothing he could do to save her anyway.

When I watched episode 342, I cried the whole way through, and for 3 hours afterwards until I was ill. That's how sad I thought it was. Just to let you know.