Chapter Text
"When I asked to talk, I didn't expect you to put me to work. I am suffering." Nick said as he bunched up the wrapping paper into a tight ball and tossed it into a nearby bin. "I am your best friend, and you work me to the bone."
"Hey, you owe me. I helped you paint the house last week; the least you can do is tidy up my garden after a children's birthday party. Your son is responsible for some of this mess too, you know." Monroe chuckled as he took down the large HAPPY BIRTHDAY banner. "Besides, Rosalie has her hands full with the kids."
Nick stacked the dirty cups into each other with a little nod. "Yeah, I suppose that's true." Three toddlers were surely a handful, and even though he loved Theo, Jules, and Colette, he'd rather take a quadruple homicide than having to wipe vomit covered lawn chair like Monroe was just doing. Luckily, Kelly has already turned 4, and his messiest habit was the occasional wetting the bed at night, but even that was rare.
"So? What did you want to talk about?" Monroe nudged open the bin with his foot, throwing the dirty wipes in it.
Nick glanced towards the house; he saw Adalind through the window with Kelly on her lap, dozing off. "I want to marry her."
"What?!" Monroe said so loudly Nick had to shush him. "Really?"
"Why are you shocked?" Nick folded the table cloth. "We've been together for four years."
"Sorry; old habits die hard." Monroe sighed. "I guess I just always assumed you two would be...the way you are. A couple, living together. You are already bound by a child anyway."
"Yeah, but...I want to be able to say that she's my wife. I love her, I can't imagine my life without her. And I know she would look amazing as a bride. Don't you think?"
"Dude, I don't think that's my place to say." Monroe handed Nick a bottle of beer with a chuckle. "So you came to ask me to be our best man? Is that it?"
"No, that's already given, I don't need to ask." Nick took a sip of his beer and leaned against the patio railing. "Since you tinker with stuff, I was wondering..."
“Remind me again.” Monroe said, adjusting his glasses. “Why a homicide detective thinks he can just casually learn metal-smithing?”
Nick rubbed the back of his neck. “I don’t want to buy a ring.” He stood in Monroe's shed, now converted into a workshop, with a humbled expression.
Monroe raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“I want to make it.” Nick added quietly, staring at a small anvil like it personally offended him. “For Adalind.”
Monroe’s expression softened immediately. “Oh. So that whole 'I wanna wife her up' talk was to soften me up, huh?.”
Monroe sighed and clapped his hands together. “Alright. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it properly. Jewellery - making is precision. Patience. Respect for the material.”
Nick smirked. “So...not exactly my usual approach.”
Monroe grinned. “Exactly not your usual approach.”
"Well I guess we should get started, shall we?" Monroe pushed past Nick and began opening the drawers, searching for the proper tools. "Alright, I have gold, silver, steel, and white gold. Which one do you want? Gold?"
Nick scrunched his nose. Silver was too cheap. Steel too basic. Gold clashed with her complexion and hair. "White gold."
"Any diamond preferences?" Monroe shook an open tin of glimmering stones.
"I don't think I want to do a diamond. She hates them, ever since Bonaparte forced her to wear the cursed ring. Can different stones work?"
"What do you have in mind?" Monroe rummaged through a box of tools for a block of hard wax and carving tools.
Nick reached into his pocket and showed Monroe a small pouch and shook it into his hand. Two lumps fell out; one black and shiny, and another in hues of dark green and red.
"That's a bloodstone, isn't it?" Monroe held the colourful rock up to the light. "What's that one?"
"A meteorite." Nick tossed the chunk over to Monroe. "It was our first official date outside of our home. I took her to see a meteor shower, and this thing hit me in the head. And she's an Aries; bloodstone is Aries's assigned gem."
Monroe's face turned into the cheesiest grin. "Aw, you sappy romantic, you want a special little rock." He said in a teasing tone. "Well then, I guess we should start with drawing it? And then carve it out of this." Monroe held the block of wax. "I'll make it into a mould so we can cast it out of the gold. The little prongs can be done after we finish faceting the stones, see how wide they need to be."
Nick groaned with a mild annoyance but followed Monroe's every instruction, quickly realising he wasn't the best most attentive student. After days of tinkering with wax and metal and a lot of frustration, Nick has finally managed to cast out a simple ring, fitted to the size of one Nick borrowed from Adalind's jewellery box. Next few days have been humbling to say the least, and mildly rewarding at best, but Nick was satisfied with the ring, even with all it's tiny imperfections. The design was still very simple, a straight band that tapered slightly toward the setting of three round gems, two small bloodstones hugging the polished meteorite in the middle. It looked almost elegant.
"Oh...the meteorite is still too big." Nick frowned when the rock popped out again and clattered on the work table.
"Give it here; I'll facet it better." Monroe opened his hand, but Nick shook his head.
"I'll do it." Nick took the little grinder, his eyes laser focused on it. After a couple seconds however, he has gotten crosseyed, and the grinder slipped out of his hand, cutting his finger. "Damn it." He cursed, dropping the rock again.
"Well, I guess now you made it a third bloodstone." Monroe snickered as he handed Nick a handkerchief and picked up the rock with tweezers. "Except this one is made with blood of a Grimm."
"Very funny." Nick wrapped his finger. "Does it fit now?"
"Perfectly." Monroe said, closing the little prongs around the meteorite, before he wiped the ring with a damp cloth.
They gave the ring one final polish before Nick finally put it into his shirt pocket, much to Monroe's displeasure.
"Seriously? After all this,-" Monroe gestured towards the messy work table and the blood stained handkerchief Nick has dropped on the floor. "- you're just raw dogging it!? I cannot look, I simply cannot look."
"Thank, Monroe." Nick smiled smugly, patting his chest pocket. "Wish me luck, brother."
"I don't think you need it." Monroe's voice softened. "What you and Adalind have is something else. Something very special. Ring or no ring, you two will be together forever. I'm betting on it."
Nick grimaced, scratching his nape.
"What?" Monroe raised an eyebrow. "You nervous?"
Nick looked down at his chest where the ring hid in his pocket. "Terrified."