Chapter Text
Sweeping melodies of string and wind and brass instruments filtered into a private courtyard. Paper rustled, crisp, unweighted and unhurried as it floated through space, the consumed page melding until invisible amongst its previously perused kin. The tinkling winter chimes of water in stasis against glass complimented the aching sweetness of a flute solo.
There were Grimms in the castle.
The King had ordered him to stay in the far wing until they left. Sean was grateful he had even been allowed to stay. He had packed a bag the minute he’d heard they were coming to present their child to the Family. The Queen was not a gracious woman.
Sweat rolled down the glass, gathered on the coaster underneath. Sean wiped it off, wet his tongue, and set it back. Flipped to the next page. A woman laughed, shrill enough to hear over the festivities.
He was no fool. As much as it rankled him to be swept under the rug, he enjoyed his head. It suited him, gave him a few inches over Eric.
The height difference would be the only thing he’d ever have over the man if the Queen had her way. And she always did.
Better to be alive and able to influence the Crown Prince directly than to be dead due to impulsive hubris. The Grimms were not here for him. They would never present their child to the tainted bastard.
Paper tore under the torsion of tense fingers. Sean smoothed out the tear across the page, smoothed out the tear across his face, both equally ragged and unbecoming of Royalty.
He might be a bastard, but he didn’t have to look like one.
The courtyard butted up against the gardens which butted up against the veranda which attached to the ballroom where the entire population of the castle currently crowded around their unusual guests like sharks on wounded prey. Technically he should be inside, in his rooms, but this courtyard was part of the wing the King had banished him to and while he valued his life, he, too, felt the siren call of an unattached Grimm.
But the child wasn’t for him. Might not even be for Eric if they refused, but that was much less likely than the absolute truth that Sean would never even be a candidate.
His drink would have been stronger, but he wanted to keep a clear head. He wanted to remember this night, etch every detail into his bones. He wanted the reminder. One day, he’d-
Wood snapped, leaves rustled. The knife in his palm warmed quickly. The bush at the far end of the courtyard shook – a young boy stumbled out, clothes as mussed as his hair, bits of the earth on his boots and foliage sticking out at odd angles here and there. Sean hid the knife in his sleeve as the boy looked his way. The glow of evening lights on dark lashes cast long shadows across cheeks bitten pink from the nipping cold.
Sean wasn’t actually sure if it was a boy. In this light the child seemed pretty enough to be a girl.
The child.
There were no children who wore clothes like that in the castle.
The Queen would kill him.
The boy’s wide eyes didn’t waver from Sean’s face, even as he took a tiny, faltering step back.
It didn’t matter if the Queen killed him.
He would never live to see an opportunity like this again anyway.
Sean leaned back into the chair, relaxed his shoulders, crossed one leg over the other. Sheathed his knife. Forced his locked jaw to unhinge, “Hi there.”
The boy shrank back, drew inwards. Sean breathed in slowly. Let it out. Slowly. “Did you come to read, too?”
A quick glance toward the bushes, knuckles white in their grip around fabric that no doubt would wrinkle. Sean didn’t expect such skittishness. Then again, fledgling Grimms were vulnerable. He shouldn’t have been allowed to roam unsupervised in the castle. “What’s your name? I’m Sean.”
The boy continued to edge toward the bush. Sean kept his voice low, just loud enough to be heard over the music trickling in, “It’s alright, I’m not a fan of the party either.”
The boots stopped their stilted movements.
“They’re very loud, aren’t they?”
A small nod.
“I’m hiding from them too. I’ll share my hiding spot with you if you want.”
The toe of one boot tapped against dewy grass, dug in and dragged back to its twin as the boy shrugged.
“Okay.” The music nearly muffled the mumble, a soft tenor Sean had to strain to hear. “I’m Nick. What are you reading?”
Sean tapped on the cover. “I’m afraid it’s not very exciting. It’s a history book.”
“About what?”
“War.”
Nick wrinkled his nose. “I don’t like that.”
“I don’t either.”
“Then why would you read it?”
“It’s good to know about the things we don’t like.”
Nick swayed side to side and glanced at the bush with a frown on his face and Sean held his breath. But then the boy trotted over and plopped into the vacant chair across the table. “I like good stories.”
“What makes a good story?”
“Lasers.” Sean blinked at the immediate firm answer but Nick started flicking up his fingers as he continued his list, “And dinos. And spies! And also dogs. And it has to have a happy ending, the bad guys can’t win.”
“I think I’ve seen a movie like that,” Sean muttered softly.
Nick perked up, scrambled to kneel in his seat so he could lean on the table between them, his eyes impossibly big and bright and mouth moving a mile a minute, “Me too! That’s my favorite movie! The one with the guys and they go and they win?!”
The corners of his lips twitched, tried to curl to match the intense beam attempting to blind him. Sean marked his place and set his book aside so he could focus his full attention on the bundle of energy shaking the creaking table with each exuberant bounce.
"Did you see the one with the guy and he, and then he," Nick wiped his nose and threw both arms wide, "and then the building exploded?!"
A laugh bubbled in his chest despite his best efforts. Sean coughed behind his fist. "The one with the airplane?"
Nick draped across the table and peered up at Sean. "No, the one where the building exploded!"
Sean nodded. “I did see that one.”
“Wow!” Nick breathed. “You’ve seen all the best ones… Do you wanna see my car?!”
Sean’s heart stopped as Nick threw himself off of the table but the boy landed easily and hopped over to him. Nick whipped a toy car out from his pocket and ran it over his thigh. “It goes fast.”
“It’s a nice car.”
A woman shouted Nick’s name in the distance. Little hands clung to his knee as the boy snapped to face the direction he’d arrived from, his lower lip caught between his teeth.
“That’s my mom,” he whispered.
“She must be worried.” Sean gritted his teeth – this never could have lasted, but Eric didn’t deserve the little Grimm. He’d ruin him.
Nick propped his chin up on his knee and gazed up at him with those big, big eyes. “Will you come with me?”
Sean reeled back. That- this child knew exactly what he was doing. Eric didn’t stand a chance.
He couldn’t stop the strangled noise from escaping as his lap was suddenly filled with tiny Grimm, the pointy elbow digging into his stomach absolutely not detracting from the rising tide of helpless warmth swelling in his chest as little fingers curled into his shirt.
Nick dropped his head onto his chest with a solid thud and sighed loudly. Children should not sigh that loud. “No one else here likes movies.”
Sean’s hands hovered awkwardly in the air. He didn’t plan for this. He’d never held a child before.
If the Queen saw them- if Eric saw them-
Actually, he’d pay to see the face Eric made if the man walked in with his new Grimm cuddling up close in Sean’s lap.
Nick leaned back when he didn’t reply, his mouth pulling down, bottom lip trembling dangerously. “Please?”
His thumb brushed over that round cheek before he could stop it. “You don’t like Prince Eric?”
Sean wanted to hear it.
Little hands kneaded his chest, the car clutched tight. Nick bit his lip, looked away, quiet and withdrawn once more.
“You can tell me. It’ll be our secret.”
Nick shook his head slightly. “My mom says you should only say good things about people.”
Sean smiled.
“She’s right.” He lowered his voice and leaned in. “I don’t like him either.”
Nick beamed at him. His mother called his name again, louder this time, and he buried his face into Sean’s chest. “I don’t wanna go back.”
If Eric’s mother found them like this it would end badly, but if Nick’s mother found them like this-
“Your mom will be sad if you don’t.” But Nick would not let go. Sean cast his gaze about the courtyard, now acutely aware of his dwindling lifespan as he attempted to remove the vice-like grip on his shirt.
His family ring clinked against the car.
Nick’s mother called for him again. Close.
Better to lose the ring than lose his head. Sean worked it off of his finger and presented it to Nick.
“I can’t go with you. But you can hold on to this for me if it’ll help.” Nick tentatively wrapped his fingers around the comparatively huge ring and Sean quickly added, “You have to promise to give it back, though.”
“It’s too big,” Nick mumbled. Sean swallowed as the boy spun it around on his finger.
“Keep it in your pocket. Don’t lose it, and don’t let Prince Eric know, alright?”
Nick frowned and tilted his head. “Does this mean we’re married now?”
Sean choked on his spit and had to cough a few times before he could answer, “What? No.”
“My mom wears a ring and my dad gave it to her and they’re married.”
“Maybe when you’re older.” He could not get this child off of his lap. Nick had latched onto him again, his grip surprisingly strong for someone so tiny.
Nick’s face twisted into a scowl, the entirety of his compact stature drawing up to face off with Sean’s. He huffed out, “I’m old. I can be married if I want to.”
Sean would die simply because the little boy wouldn’t. Let. Go. He didn’t think fledgling Grimms were supposed to be this strong.
“You can! But you have to ask your mom first.”
Nick deflated. “Oh. Are you gonna ask your mom?”
Sean’s mother would never know about this. He didn’t actually have a death wish.
“Of course. But only if your mom says yes. So go find her.” Nick finally released him and Sean ushered him off of his lap but stopped him before he could scamper off. “Promise me you’ll give it back.”
Nick sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and looked at the ring for a moment before he pressed his car into Sean’s hand. “I promise. But you have to come visit and give my car back.”
“…I can do that,” Sean said softly, the warm metal in his palm causing his heart to skip to an unfamiliar beat.
Nick waved at him and bounced off through the bushes. Sean sagged back into the chair and gusted out a sigh in the privacy of the empty courtyard.
Sweet melodies drifted through the air. A man guffawed, boisterous enough to be heard over the festivities.
A small smile stretched across his face as the wheels of the car spun under his fingertips. The Grimm didn’t seem so unattached anymore. He couldn’t wait to see Eric’s face.