Chapter Text

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Chapter One – The Auswhalen

“Can you believe we actually get to do this?” Monroe asks excitedly as they make their way down the path to town. “The last time an Auswahlen was decreed it was over a decade ago! And I think it was a decade before that as well!”

“So this only happens once every ten years and we’re lucky enough to be part of it,” Nick deadpans.

“You will not take my shine away today Grimm,” Monroe answers back. “We are participating in history. Though I suppose you and I already are, as a Blutbad being friends with a Grimm, but that won’t be recorded anywhere other than your Grimm books I imagine. The Auswhalen will be recorded in the royal history scrolls, all those who take part and all those who are chosen together. It’s magic my friend, deep powerful magic, the type that comes from the earth. Even zauerbiests and hexenbiests won’t mess with this. That’s also part of why it’s so sacred. All wesen realise the importance of Aushwalen when it’s needed and it’s never created a wrong choice before. It gives wesen the chance to find their chosen one. Of course it also helps the Royals keep morale on their side as they’re the ones who control it’s use and also help population numbers in areas so they are practical sides to this, it’s just such an amazing thing to be part of.”

“I wonder whether Renard will take part,” Nick mutters.

Monroe turns and raises an eyebrow. “The King getting his bastard son paired with someone who is ‘destined’ for him, therefore looking like a loving father but really ensuring he’s matched with someone who’s – most likely – not part of a royal court, could have something to do with the timing of this. Have you heard anything else?”

Nick shakes his head. “He’s mentioned again about how he’s been approached by supportive parties to take on the King, create a more wesen-friendly ruling class, and that having me as a Grimm by his side would help, but no more details and frankly I don’t trust him.”

“It’s bad enough you work for him now.”

Nick grunts out an agreement. “Becoming a sheriff was a focus after my aunt left. It was a way to protect others from what I’ve experienced growing up. And earning a place in the royal lawsmen, where I could affect actual change? It seemed like some kind of fate. Getting partnered with Hank and serving under Renard everything made sense for awhile. Then I discover I’m a Grimm and everything got crazy.”

“At least you learnt about wesen ways from me and not him,” Monroe says. “Imagine if he’d been the one to tell you all about wesen ‘rules’, you’d probably be his little secret puppet, killing whoever he needed you to kill for his ambitions, not their actions.”

Nick hates the idea of that but can’t deny it isn’t true. He’d kept a line between his work and his newly discovered Grimm side for a few months and during that time he’d developed his friendship with Monroe and discovered that he didn’t like a lot of the history that came with being a Grimm. So he decided to change it, become a Grimm who would help wesen, not just kill them indiscriminately. Of course there were times he still had to kill wesen but they were just kills, following the law or protecting someone.

By the time Renard found out he was a Grimm and started pushing Nick to support him, Nick was strong enough in his wesen understanding that he could take a stand, even if all he could do was say he wouldn’t help Renard, that all he wanted was to serve the law and protect people, not go beyond their town. Nick had spent a lot of time growing up moving around with his aunt after his parents were killed, he’d finally found a place he felt comfortable in and he wasn’t about to give that up to go to the capital and help a man he was sure he’d never truly entirely trust get a crown and rule over others.

“It’s such a good thing I was your first wesen,” Monroe adds happily.

“Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Monroe repeats slowly. “That wasn’t very enthusiastic of you. Have we not just said many reasons for why it’s great?”

“It’s great you were my first wesen,” Nick parrots.

“But?”

Nick sighs. “You weren’t my first woge.”

“I wasn’t? Well, who the hell did you scare the crap out of then?”

Nick sighs again. “Someone complicated,” he answers and leaves it there even though Monroe asks a few more questions.

He’s never forgotten that face, and how it changed from something beautiful into something monstrous. Just as how he’ll never forget their first official introduction, meeting her scared but defiant gaze as he escorted her and her daughter to visit Renard, discovering the bastard prince he worked for had a bastard child of his own.

He forces his thoughts away from that, focusing on what is about to happen today.

The path they’re on is widening, starting to meet more cottages as they approach town. Monroe lived out in the forest as he maintained the Watch tower, that which provided them with time and the first station of warnings from other towns. Nick had lived in a small homestead within a cottage but he’d moved to his own lodge out in the forest after his Grimm came out. Between his work as a sheriff and his Grimm side he’d needed somewhere secure and private. He’d found an old treehouse cottage on a training run with Monroe one day and he’d loved the place instantly. It wasn’t easy to sneak up on, it was well defendable as it had the high ground and there was even a secret escape route. It meant his time to report for work duty was longer but he didn’t mind the extra exercise, it seemed to be increasing his Grimm abilities. It also helped him make more friends of local wesen, as it was hard to be scared of a Grimm when you saw him just going about his normal day as everyone else was.

What would his maiden think of it though? Would she understand his need for privacy and security? Would she be able to live that way if it meant living with him? Or would he have to give that up to be with her? He couldn’t imagine not doing anything for his ‘chosen one’ but he had valid reasons for where he was in his life now. Would she understand that? Support that?

He’d tried to court someone and it had gone well, to the point where he had bought a betrothal ring, but on the day he was going to ask her there had been an illegal games hunt and he had been delayed in meeting with her. Juliette had been concerned with the welfare of the animals involved and she had understood the importance of his work. But as an animal healer attached to one of the larger farmsteads of the town she had very regimented hours of duty. When she had asked then if his work hours would ever conflict with her free time and his honest answer was yes he knew he couldn’t ask her to be with him; there was a chance they would never actually spend any time together. And he got the feeling she wouldn’t want to change her life to support the unpredictability of his. Not that that was entirely fair, it didn’t have to be all o her to change, but if he felt she wasn’t willing to change even a little then that spoke of bigger problems.

He still thought of her, still felt for her, and wondered if he did pick her name, surely that was a sign they could overcome those problems?

After all the Auswhalen was about picking the person who was your match, the person ‘chosen’ for you, your partner in every way.

But that’s if he picked a maiden’s name at all. The magic only worked with those who had entered their names; if your chosen wasn’t there you would have no name on your parchment.

More people were starting to walk the path with them now, all heading for the town square where the Aushwalen would take place. There were nervous looking people, excited looking people and those who were caught up in the spectacle of the event; children were running around and laughing, adults dressed up in finery and gossiping as they met with friends.

“Remember, this is a magical ceremony,” Monroe said. “You’re Grimm abilities are probably going to go a bit off but that’s normal. My Blutbad senses are going to go through the roof, that’s what my great-uncle said to expect, sense of smell the biggest one to be impacted. Just stay calm and let the magic do its thing.”

“But all we have to do is put our hand into a cauldron and pull out a piece of paper right?”

“I mean, literally, yeah, that’s all we’re doing,” Monroe answered, his scowl of disappointment telling Nick he didn’t appreciate the matter-of-factness. “But when you walk to the cauldron the magic will be sensing your aura, when you place your hand inside it will be feeling your intent, and when you grasp that parchment it will be reading your heart. Then you will see the name it creates for you on your paper.”

“Creates for me? I thought all the ladies wrote their names down on paper already?”

Monroe shakes his head. “Common misunderstanding from those who don’t comprehend the magic. The maidens who are willing and eligible to enter their names write their names on parchment, yes. But then they offer their names to the cauldron by placing it on the outside, letting the cauldron absorb knowledge about them as they present it. The cauldron takes their name and they are left with an empty piece of paper, which is then ceremoniously burnt to show they have given their name in faith to the magic. When each man approaches the cauldron an empty piece of parchment is placed inside so the name of the right maiden for him can be written by the magic itself.”

“Wow,” Nick nods. “Which relative or history book did you find that out from?”

“Well, err, I was interested, so Uncle Felix had some information, of course, and then I err-“

“Monroe? That was a simple question and now you’re stammering,” Nick teases gently. “In my book, you just went from ordinary to suspicious my friend.”

Monroe sighed. “I may have spoken about it with Rosalee.”

“Okay,” Nick says slowly, knowing the co-owner of the Spice Shop and how she helped their local wesen community, and sometimes his cases, and how she was a veritable fountain of knowledge but how that didn’t align with Monroe’s reaction, unless… “Ohh.” He paused for a moment but then couldn’t help but ask, even though as he said the words it was obvious. “You and Rosalee?”

Monroe nodded. “But strictly speaking, we can’t, as a Blutbad and Fauscbau. And our families would disapprove. But if we were picked together from the Auswhalen, then no-one could question it.”

“That’s a lot to put on one magical ceremony Monroe!”

“I love her,” Monroe replied simply. “I’ve never felt for anyone what I feel for her. Every account, every person, every source I’ve researched said the Aushwalen made the right choice for them. It is one of the most powerful magics used in all of wesen society, across the globe. If that information is all correct then it’ll choose Rosalee’s name for me.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

Monroe shrugged. “You don’t have to follow what it says. I know in my heart Rosalee is the one for me. The support of the Auswhalen will make it easier for our families to accept but I’m not going to let it stop me getting to be with her. We talked about it, when it was announced the Auswhalen would happen here and what it could mean for us. We discussed every scenario and we know what we want to do to be together but also what we’ll have to do if necessary.”

“I’m here for you, for both of you, whatever you need, whatever happens,” Nick said, stopping and grasping his friends arm. “I mean it Monroe, anything I can do and you’ll have it.”

“Thanks my friend,” Monroe answers with an earnest smile. “You already got us together, really. If it wasn’t for you I would have had no reason to talk to her, I would have just pined after her from afar or made a fool of myself whenever I could think of a reason to go to the Spice Shop and order something.”

“That would have been interesting to watch,” Nick grinned.

Monroe rolls his eyes good naturedly and they start their walk once more. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“I’m going into this hoping magic will prove what I already know,” he says. “What do you want out of this? Is there a maiden you’re thinking of?”

“I still think of Juliette,” Nick answers and doesn’t miss Monroe’s look but chalks it up to the fact he hasn’t mentioned her in a while. “But I really want someone who can be with me, who can live with my sheriff work and the Grimm duties, who will understand I need safety and privacy but that I’ll want to build a family and still be part of this wesen community we’re creating. I want someone I can protect but who will and can defend themselves if they have to. Someone who I can laugh and talk with but who will also, ah, not be adverse to Grimm intimacies. I want a miracle really.”

“If there’s someone here who can do that for you, the Auswhalen will find them,” Monroe says quietly. “I truly believe that.”

“Thanks.”

They don’t talk for several minutes, just continue their trek into town and have to slow as the path becomes more congested. Lots of people, possibly the entire town have come out for the Auswhalen and it makes Nick think about all the different people here. The wesen, kershite and royals all mingling together in a shared hope; finding that one person that was yours.

As they reached the main town square the crowds became more ordered, with spectators pushed towards the back and middle, men on one side and women on the other. Sheriffs who weren’t taking part were dotted around to help control the chaos but it seemed fairly well-ordered; the respect and the magic the Auswhalen brought out helping keep people calm.

Nick saw a throne had been set up at the back of the raised area of the town square, usually only used when the town crier was proclaiming something or for decorations during spring or yuletide festivities. As the Auswhalen was so special and unique, it required the presence of Royals and Nick also knew they’d take the opportunity to look like benevolent and caring rulers over wesen. Even if that wasn’t true for most wesen in their daily lives.

Although to be fair, most wesen weren’t affected by Royals in their daily life, that was just a not-so-lucky perk of his.

And something else his maiden would have to put up with. Nick sighed and wondered who would be able to live with all the complications that were his life.

He and Monroe headed over to the male side of the gathering and joined the cluster of other men waiting there. On the other side of the raised platform there was a much bigger congregation of ladies. Between them, roped off from everyone at the moment was a wooden pedestal, standing exactly in the middle, holding a copper cauldron that to Nick’s eyes was pulsing with light.

“There it is,” Monroe breathed and he sounded so reverent that Nick hoped it lived up to his friend’s optimisms.

There was some jostling around them as people re-arranged themselves as someone walked through their little crowd and Nick found himself confronted with a familiar face wearing a familiar uniform, one that Nick found himself wanting to be in. If he was dressed for duty, encased in his black leather doublet with the sword straps though he preferred his axe, then he would be sure of what was expected of him, whereas today magic would be the driving factor.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? Some young ner-do-wells up to no good.”

Nick rolled his eyes as his partner grinned down at him.

“You’re really going through with this?” He asked quietly.

Nick had talked through what the Auswhalen meant with Hank when the Royal decree that it would happen was announced, needing a friend who wasn’t as affected by its significance as his wesen friends were. Hank had his own hang-ups around finding the ‘one’ as he’d already been betrothed three times and each one had failed for different reasons. But he’d listened to Nick and given him some sound advice.

“Yes,” Nick answered. “I want to find that person for me and with Grimm and Sheriff duties to be aware of, this magic could help me find her.”

“Then I’m behind you,” Hank says but then his eyes flick over the crowd. “And I’ll be watching your back too.”

Nick glances back and sees Renard, dressed in fine clothes that spoke of his Royal status, moving towards the square. There were verrat guards next to him, wesen trained as protectors and enforcers for the Royals, and Nick looked over them, cataloguing faces and committing them to memory. He was certain there would be no attacks or threats today, the power and importance of the Auswhalen able to keep that the focus. But tomorrow was a different day.

“Renard taking part means this will be watched by Royals from all over,” Monroe mutters. “There’s something bigger happening behind the scenes here.”

“We’ll keep an eye on him,” Hank reassures. “You two focus on what you need to do today.”

“I’m all good man.” Monroe’s eyes flash red with the confidence of his words.

Hank nods with a grin and then grips Nick’s shoulder tight and gives him an intense stare. “Do not think or worry about anything when you’re up there. For once, just focus on what you need in that moment, not what anyone else needs or expects of you.”

Nick huffs out a breath but sees the sincerity in his partner’s eyes and gives him a grateful smile. “I’ll do my best.”

Hank nods again and then motions to the roped off square. “I’m on over-watch duty so I’ll be keeping an eye on everything. Good luck.”

“Thanks.”

Nick watches as Hank moves to take a position behind the gathered men, whilst other sheriffs move to station themselves around the square, besides the rope entrances and by certain guests.

There’s a commotion behind the pedestal and several people, all dressed in fancy tunics, long dresses and bejewelled, and Nick scans faces as he realises the Royal court has arrived. The last to ascend onto the throned area is the King himself and as much as Nick looks for it, the only way he can see a similarity between this man and Renard is in the look in his eye and the way he holds himself. The man he sits next to holds more resemblance but as that happens to be his superior’s younger half-brother, it just highlights the complicated family situation Renard is part of. And wants to try and drag Nick into.

The town crier follows the Royals out and stands next to the cauldron pedestal.

“Greetings all!” His voice carries across the town square and everyone instantly hushes. “We are honoured to welcome his majesty, King Frederich, his son Prince Eric and the Royal Court of House Kronenberg, who glory us with the gift of the Auswhalen!”

The golden glowing cauldron lets off a hiss of steam and cheering erupts from around the square. Whilst Monroe grins in excitement, his eyes flashing and nostrils flaring as he inhales deeply, Nick can’t help but scan the crowd. The hair on the back of his neck is standing up, whether from the amount of Wesen around him or an affect from the magical cauldron he doesn’t know.

“Let us gather now, the men who will choose and the maidens who gave their names, let us participate and watch as the Auswhalen shows us the ones who are meant to be together are chosen!”

More screaming as the crowd is swept up in the passion in the town crier’s voice. The men around him are jostling together, nerves and excitement causing movement and woges. Across the cauldron-holding platform, Nick can see the ladies waiting together, some more composed than others. He catches a glimpse of Rosalee before she’s lost in the moving crowd and he looks over at Monroe and hopes his friends get the outcome they’re hoping for. They deserve the happiness of being together.

He looks back over and sees a glimpse of red hair and he thinks back to what he said to Monroe. Could Juliette be his one? Could she live the life of a spouse to a Sheriff-Grimm? He tries to see if he can catch another glimpse or actually see if it’s her but all his eyes latch on to is a flash of blonde.

“For the knowledge of all, the Auswhalen is of the deep magic. It is a soul spell that searches for the binds of love that can tie us together with our rightful thread. It looks into those who present themselves to it and it sees the potential, the rightness of those who are meant to be together. All eligible maidens offer their names to the cauldron which sees inside them as their souls are bared. Eligible men approach the cauldron and are judged as they present themselves. The Auswhalen sees the connections beyond our eyes and when the man reaches into the cauldron he will, if his true chosen is here, withdraw the parchment with her name inscribed.”

An awed sound whispers through the crowd and the town crier bows his head to the cauldron.

“For those who are revealed as chosen together through the Auswhalen, may no mortal or deity call them asunder, their connection proven as true by magic deeper than the roots of the earth.” He pauses as if to let the weight of those words settle, then continues. “Males will approach the Auswhalen cauldron and pick a parchment, if granted as their chosen one is here, a name will be upon it. Maidens will wait in their area and if their name is called they will approach their male and journey to the gatehouse together.” He motions to the house behind and to the right of the area that holds the cauldron, the building next to where the Royals had entered from. “Our honourable celebrant will confirm the name a male receives.” The local pastor, a short man who was known to the whole town approached the cauldron on the opposite side of the town crier. “If a parchment is blank or a Maiden’s name is not called then the Auswhalen has not found your chosen to be here amongst us today. But,” he paused with a heavy inflection in his voice. “We shall applaud our males and maidens for being brave enough to present themselves to this magic of souls and minds, and as none who are paired may be torn apart, none who approached the cauldron may be torn down.”

Nick summarised in his head that none who took part in Auswhalen could be attacked, whether because of their chosen or because they didn’t find a chosen. He glanced over at the Royals and wondered if they’d stick to those rules, or if that was part of whatever game they were playing here. Because they were definitely having something going on, there was no way the King was doing this for the good of the people or his eldest albeit bastard son.

“Let us begin!”

The crowd let out a large cheer and then the town crier pulled out a scroll and cleared his throat.

“Jake of Barnes!”

A young blonde-brown haired man moved out of the crowd of men and approached the raised square. A sheriff Nick recognised from the south quadrant stood by the rope and moved it as the man approached. He walked slowly across to the cauldron and then paused before it, visibly taking a deep breath before he reached inside and pulled out a piece of parchment.

“E-Elly of M-Mahario,” he stuttered aloud.

A gasp ran through the crowd, excitement of the first maiden match, and a young woman with black hair was pushed forward from the ladies section. The pastor stepped up to Jake and confirmed the name on his parchment before gesturing to Elly and then the building behind them. Jake stepped forwards and offered his arm and after Elly took it they walked off together into the large house.

“And next we have…”

Names were read out, in seemingly no particular order, and Nick kept a track off them, of seeing who read a name and went with a lady and those who didn’t, but his concentration wasn’t taken up fully with it. He was scanning the crowd and watching the Royals out of the corner of his eye. He should be concentrating on what was about to happen for him but he was plagued by thoughts of ‘what if’s’ about the bigger games that were being played out here.

“Monroe of… Monroe?”

The slight hesitation in the town crier’s voice as he read his friend’s name wasn’t felt by Monroe as the Blutbad practically marched across to the cauldron. He barely paused as he thrust his hand in and didn’t seem to even read the parchment slip, his eyes just searching the ladies section as he spoke.

“Rosalee of Calvert.”

Nick exhaled in relief and grinned as Rosalee hurried towards Monroe whilst the pastor confirmed the name read aloud. They grasped hands and practically ran off together as the crowd cheered, both Monroe and Rosalee being popular figures in their community.

His friends didn’t have an easy road ahead of them but they now had something powerful to support them. And it gave a little hope to Nick, if the Auswhalen could match them perfectly maybe it really could find Nick his maiden.

Several more names were called out but Nick found it harder to split his concentration as nerves were starting to climb up his spine. Not only was he a local Sheriff, about to put himself out there in such a personal way, but he was a Grimm participating in an ancient magical Wesen ritual. He knew lots of others would be watching him and whose name he read out, if he read a name at all. And that was just another worry he did not want to be thinking about right now.

“Nicholas of Burkhardt.”

He took a deep breath and hoped it was only his imagination that created the hush he thought he heard crest through the crowd. He tried to walk normally as he approached the cauldron but he felt like his steps were heavy and slow. He needed to be thinking about his maiden, about who and what he wanted in the woman he would share his life with, but all he could do was just keep his breath even and try to look normal.

Then he was there, in front of the golden gleaming cauldron that was letting off mist into the air around it, and he had to put his hand inside. Fisting and then releasing his hand, Nick reached up and in, letting his fingers graze the bottom before her felt around for the parchment piece. It was there on his second sweep and he grasped it firmly, lifting it up and out so he could see if there was a name on there. He caught the flash of black script and felt a split second of relief there was a name before his eyes latched firmly onto it and his brain realised what he was reading.

He swallowed and his voice came out strained even as he tried to sound neutral but he was shocked. Disbelief coursed through him even as he spoke.

“Adalind of Schade.”

This time he didn’t imagine the sound he heard through the crowd as those who knew who he was and knew who she was couldn’t keep in their surprised gasps. Somewhere besides him the pastor stepped closer and confirmed the name he read. A part of Nick desperately wanted to look around at Renard and the Royals, knew his life had just been complicated tenfold but his eyes latched onto movement as a petite blonde moved out of the ladies section and towards him.

She looked pale and shocked as well, her eyes large and her lips trembling but she moved purposefully forward. Toward him.

Nick made himself move in her direction then as they were about to meet they both turned, almost as if they’d agreed it before hand, and walked side by side but not touching into the gatehouse. A matron was waiting inside the door and she took their names, writing them on a long scroll, before she directed them to another room. This one was empty and they walked into it together before the door closed, leaving them alone together.

There was a pause, a beat of silence that seemed to thrum between them, and then they both looked at each other.

“Oh god.” She whispered.

Adalind Schade, he thought. Adalind who was his first woge, Adalind who was a hexenbiest, Adalind who was the unwed mother of Renard’s child and therefore connected to his superior and the Royals.

Adalind was his chosen?

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