Okay, here's the people that guessed this story's inspiration; Rini's Ghost, Savannah Cullen, tashie1010, slavetothekeyboard, 13IsTaLkThEaKaTsUkI13, and Revy22. Good job!

To those who were hoping for Romeo and Juliet, I'm sorry for misleading you; I thought the summary sounded cooler than the first one I wrote. If it helps at all, I'm considering doing a (clean) CR take on it. I guess we'll see where my muse leads me.

Chapter One: The Enchantment

The stone floor was cold.

That shouldn't have been a revelation to anyone, but the fact usually matters more to someone who finds himself waking up on one instead of a proper bed.

And that is precisely where the Baron Humbert von Gikkingen found himself.

A groan escaped his throat as he reluctantly opened his green eyes to the darkness, and pressed one hand to his forehead in a vain attempt to counter the monumental headache that pounded against his skull.

"Oh good. You're awake," a familiar voice said in a relieved manner from high above the young lord.

"Toto?" Baron asked, rising to a seating position before rolling to his feet. "Where are you? Why hasn't someone lit the fires?"

A terrible silence greeted his words.

"Someone please light the fire," Toto said formally. In response to his words, another familiar voice began to swear a bit as he fumbled with the flint and steel. In time, a fire began to glow from the hearth.

With the room bathed in light, the tawny young man could see that he was in his bedroom, but it was deserted, save for him. Oh, and the unfamiliar cat right next to the fire. Where was the servant that had lit it?

"Toto?" Baron called out again, wondering if he had only imagined hearing his dear friend.

"I'm up here," the familiar voice said miserably from over the canopied bed. More than a little confused, Baron stood up and walked a few steps before looking up.

He gasped.

There was only a crow up there, clutching one of the polished banisters, but the gaze of that dark bird matched that of the young lord's friend precisely.

"Toto?" Baron whispered, one hand still pressed to the side of his head.

Yes. He was beginning to remember now. That strange peddler had paid an unexpected call on him with a bushel of wares. But, after the peddler made the declaration of loyalty to the traitorous King Julian, the Baron's mind had gone blank. The king in question was one that the young nobleman had publicly denounced as a rogue and traitor to a centuries-old continental alliance.

That in itself might have been bearable, but proving beyond a doubt that King Julian had tried to abduct a princess against her will and start a war over her was obviously not acceptable to the crazy monarch. Especially since the Princess Louise was only three years old, and a complete innocent of any political move.

The servant of King Julian had done something, but for the life of him, Baron couldn't remember just what it was.

"I'm not the only one who's changed," Toto said miserably, pointing with one wing towards the mirror Baron kept in the corner of his room for shaving purposes. With a feeling of apprehension, the young lord hesitantly walked over to the small mirror… and screamed with horror.

And he hadn't screamed since his childhood.

His gloved hands flew over his face, examining the muzzle and whiskers that were now firmly attached to his head, his large pointed ears twitching this way and that with his frantic mood. He tore of his gloves to discover that his hands were padded, and properly flexing his fingers could produce a rather intimidating set of sharp white claws. He looked back at the small mirror, wishing to wake up from the terrible nightmare.

He was a cat.

Well, half-cat would be more accurate, since he was still as tall as a man, and had fingers and toes instead of paws. But the rest of him…

With a heart full of sorrow, Baron took a shaky hand to the mirror, and lifted it off the hook so that he could lay it face down on the nearby desk, to spare himself the agony of looking at his unfamiliar reflection.

"How long have I been out?" he whispered, almost inaudibly.

Toto sighed from his perch. "A couple of hours is all. So, what do we do, now that everyone in the castle is either a cat or bird?"

Baron groaned, fighting back the urge to collapse onto the ground in frustration. "I don't know, Toto. I just don't know anymore."

With that, he slowly made his way to the large cream-colored bed, and laid himself down onto the neatly folded sheets.

He didn't even think to take off his top hat first.

ooOoo

There he lay, although he had no clue as to how long, nor did he truly care. His mind seemed to be as blank as the soft canopy stretched over his head, and his senses just as dull.

Sometimes, he heard voices, and sometimes he didn't. Baron couldn't really see how it could matter anymore. Thanks to his new appearance, there was no possible way that he could return to court, or even step outside of his lands without encountering hostile mobs. He was well acquainted with the world. He knew that if hunchbacks and lepers were treated as subhumans, there was a good chance that he would be branded as a demon or worse.

And to break the curse? He must have been insane, to have softened the curse like that, before he had succumbed to the darkness that the servant of King Julian had sent him to. Even if it was the only way he could think of to ensure that he could someday regain his true form, there was no way that he could ever bring himself to ask that of any mai-

Without warning, something sharp clawed deep into his ankle. Baron couldn't suppress a yowl of displeasure as he neatly jumped off the bed, and landed on the cold stone floor with his hands. His feet were still on the bed as he looked at them to see who was responsible for the blood running down his ankle.

An abnormally fat white cat was hopping off of the bed, his grin darkly smug.

"Did you hear me that time?" the huge feline demanded in a tone that indicated he had asked the question before. Baron glared darkly at him, since he had recognized the voice.

"Was that necessary, Muta?" the orange and cream feline hissed, carefully bringing his feet to the ground so that he could take a slightly wrinkled handkerchief to the cuts.

"Maybe if you had used your head, I wouldn't have needed to do it. Snap out of it, Baron! I thought you were the type to act, not be acted on!"

"I am," the taller feline objected, still wiping at his bleeding ankle.

"Then act like it!" Muta snapped at his friend. "You're not the only one that's been hurt by this, Baron. Everyone that lives within ten miles of this place has been changed into a fur ball or a bird brain. King Edward's been sending messenger after messenger, trying to contact you, and we can't hold them off much longer. Like it or not, you have some decisions to make."

Baron stared at one of his oldest friends, one hand still frozen to his ankle which had almost stopped bleeding.

Of course. Cursed or not, he still had duties. He sighed, and got to his feet.

"I guess you're right."

"Of course I'm right!" Muta said indignantly, putting his front paws to his sides and making his huge belly stick out further. "If you'd just listen to me more, you wouldn't get into so much trouble!"

Baron couldn't help but smile at that as he reached behind him, and grabbed the top hat that had been lying on his pillow.

Just before putting it on, the feline lord looked at the silken hat for a second. His father had worn one much like it.

What kind of legacy would he leave his family name, by trying to give up this easily?

Smiling grimly, Baron placed the hat between his velvety ears with a style of finality.

"Where is the rose?" he asked his white companion, who snorted like a pig.

"In the garden, where else?"

Baron nodded once at his friend, and left the bedroom.

Despite the drastic change made in the inhabitants of the von Gikkingen manor, the manor itself remained unchanged. Baron was of two minds about that, as he passed a larger mirror in a corridor that led to a door just outside the gardens. He winced painfully at his reflection.

"Please remove all the mirrors in the manor," he asked a group of cats that had started following him like a litter of kittens. "I don't care where you put them, as long as they're out of sight."

"At once, my lord," Nicholas said numbly, immediately turning around and barking orders to the other servants like he usually did.

"Please do the same to the family portraits," Baron sighed, opening the door and closing it behind him. It would hurt too much to look at who he used to be, and he wanted to be alone for his first seeing of the rose that would lead to his redemption.

He looked first at the rose hedges that covered the entrance to his gardens, but they were sadly bare of the particular bloom he was looking for. He then conducted his search in a long sweep, circling each and every bush. Woefully, he concluded that perhaps combining the flowers instead of separating the varieties might not have been such a good idea after all. But the resulting arrangement was so beautiful, that he had no choice but to forgive himself for having to go the extra mile.

And when he finally found the right blossom, he almost walked by it in his haste. The orange and cream feline stopped dead in his tracks, and slowly turned back into the little nook that lay in the middle of his breathtaking garden, almost framing his pride and joy.

He nearly laughed at himself, stepping close to his mother's prized rosebush, a favorite reminder of the elegant lady that had shaped his very life into a masterpiece. He should have known from the start that this would be the place to look.

He kneeled down on one knee, and gently took the rosebud he had attached the spell-breaking magic into with one hand.

The bud in question was very small, and if he hadn't known beforehand that there wasn't a flower at this particular spot on the bush, he wouldn't have bothered taking a second glance. But now that he was this close to it, he could feel strong waves of magic emanating from the tiny rosebud.

All the roses on this bush were of the purest white, save for this blossom, which had the faintest beginnings of a delicate shade of blue on the very edges. It was premature.

"Just who are you destined for?" Baron softly asked the humble bud between his fingertips. "Whose ribbon will match your petals?"

It didn't answer, but then again, he wasn't really expecting it to.