Author's Notes: This may be slightly AU. It certainly isn't true to the Grimm family's real lives.
Geld is the German word for money.
Gilliam and company own the movie, the Grimms own themselves.
Ferdinand Grimm was happy being a publisher. Really. So his oldest two brothers had thrown away their educations to become folk heroes. Carl's business hadn't worked, either, and neither of the two younger boys were nearly as smart as Jakob and Wilhelm were, nor did they possess the artistic talents of their littlest brother, Ludwig. Ferdi could almost admit that without bitterness now.
Ferdinand still had his health, at least. That was more than Jake, his small, studious, absentminded eldest brother could ever really say he had. And if Jake's latest tale could be believed, the infamous Grimm duo was risking life-threatening injuries out there.
Sure, Ferdi was skeptical of the whole ancient witch and magic mirror spiel, having published too many fairy tales like it, but he could easily believe that the French invaders were tracking the self-proclaimed "monster hunters." They had always been too outspoken for their own good. It was practically a family tradition to be so. He would have offered his brothers a bit of money to tide them over until the ruckus died down, but Ferdinand himself was running low on Geld. The invaders had threatened to close his publishing house a time or two, once they had heard about his relation to Jake and Will. Only by swearing upon his prized bible, the first book he had ever printed, that he would never hide enemies of the state in his home, had Ferdinand managed to keep his source of income open. And still, he had French soldiers snooping about the shop every other week. It made Ferdinand afraid to try to print any more copies of Jakob's beloved book of German fairy tales.
He hated to think of what Carl was going through right now. The third brother was teaching languages back in Kassel, having lost all the money he had poured into his business. The French were doubtlessly grilling him just as hard for information, and Carl had never been as strong of a personality as his siblings, especially after his financial catastrophe.
Ferdi was not too worried about Ludwig or Lotte. Ludwig could paint anywhere, and he was good enough at it that the French occupation might turn a blind eye to his more distasteful relations. Although Charlotte, like Jakob and Carl, had never been a very healthy individual, she was not likely to be questioned very hard. Who would believe such a petite, pale little wisp of a girl, disfigured and permanently weakened by childhood illness, was capable of treason?
Ferdinand might. If their rapscallion eldest brothers came to her seeking aid, Lotte would hide Jake and Will in her household, and defend their actions to the death. They are heroes, Ferdi! They protect the German people from the monsters from France and the monsters in their heads, if not real monsters out of tales, as well. He could hear his little sister's spirited defense already.
Ferdinand was not quite so sure about all that. Real heroes did not charge quite so much for their services, in his opinion. Real heroes did not lie about their purposes.
Ferdinand understood that there were times to lie. In the presence of French soldiers was one of those times. But to lie to good German citizens of Westphalia? Ferdi often wondered how well their father's lessons about justice had stuck. Lotte knew them well, and she had hardly been much more than a baby when their Papa died, leaving their harried mother to raise six children by herself. Her elder brothers had told her about the virtues of truthfulness often enough, and generally, they tried to set a good example. But Jakob was too fond of his flights of fantasy, and Wilhelm was a schemer at heart. How could they have taken Papa's lessons to heart?
The younger four had, at least. Or at least, Ferdinand thought so. He and Carl had gone through the ups and downs of the business market without complaint or falsehood, and Ludwig had put his imagination to good use with his artwork. Such things seemed almost as silly as Jake's fairy tales at times, but Ludwig was also capable of making paintings that seemed to all but walk off the page and greet you. The youngest boy walked the line between reality and falsehood at times, but Ludwig knew the difference between the two. Ferdi wasn't sure that Jake and Will did anymore.
The publisher studied the letters his eldest brothers had sent him, and the attached text. They wrote up their adventures sometimes, (adding plenty of things to make themselves look good, Ferdinand was sure,) and sent them to Ferdi to be published in little chapbooks and bigger fairy tale collections. These books earned all three brothers a pretty penny, especially if they contacted Ludwig to illustrate them for the masses. But under these conditions, Ferdinand was afraid to publish their latest adventure. No amount of Francs the book might earn was worth the trouble it would bring upon his head if he tried sell it on the black market, and he doubted that Napoleon's government would be especially pleased if he sold it legally, either. The French did not want to hear stories of Germanic heroes right now. They did not want the dream of a free, united Germany to gain any more champions. Ferdinand was much better off sticking to bibles, governmental papers, and the occasional uncriticizing collegiate essay.
But Jake needed a new copy of his book. The eldest brother kept a handwritten journal of his adventures and the stories that he'd picked up from governesses, nursemaids, and old men in pubs along the way. Jakob sent updates on this notebook regularly to Ferdinand, so that his records of these stories would be saved for posterity. Now, Jake had written, his book had been burned in a forest fire. (He had said that he and Wilhelm had nearly been burned at stake in said fire, but Ferdi wasn't sure he believed Jakob.) Now, Jake needed another copy, with plenty of extra pages in the back for their further evandors.
Part of Ferdinand wanted to turn him down. Jakob could very well buy himself a new notebook. If he had forgotten a few stories, it was no great loss. Ferdi was sure that he had published most of them in one volume or another for his brothers, anyway. But still, whether he liked what they were doing or not, whether they were running from the French government or not, whether they lied about their adventures or not, Jake and Will were family. He owed them the chance to follow their dreams, if they could. Besides, the incorrigible German patriot in him savored this chance to spit in the face of the French invaders. Very well then, Ferdi would print one copy of the tales of the brothers Grimm for the man who had lived through them. He knew he was not as clever as he would like to be.
But Will, though, Ferdinand thought, looking at the other letter, Will is too clever by half. During one of their periods of wealth, the second, largest brother had designed and paid for two suits of shiny tinfoil armor. The suits would probably have trouble defending a man from bird droppings, but Will insisted they made them look like real professional monster hunters. He said they had paid for themselves a hundredfold in increased profits. Ferdi thought they made his brothers look more like professional fops. Riding into poor villages in their blindingly shiny armor, with retinue and mysterious "monster hunting tools" in tow, Ferdinand would not be surprised if some unfortunate rustic was impressed at their display enough to offer them money. Still, the practice went against his better sensibilities. It was such a shame that Wilhelm chose to turn his great mind to tricking peasants for money. They were all getting taxed enough to fuel Napoleon's war, were they not?
The second brother was highly protective of his family. Will had always been the biggest and smartest sibling, at least outside of the classroom. Since Jake had been teased mercilessly by his peers, and was too scrawny to fight back, it was often up to Will to protect the rest of the boys from bullies and swindlers. While guarding them from such evils, Wilhelm had learned and occasionally adopted the practices of his enemies. While his loyalty to his family was unquestionable, Will's level of patriotism left something to be desired, in Ferdinand's opinion.
This letter almost made Ferdinand wonder about even Will's unquestionable familial loyalty. Will, usually sober and sensible about the truths behind their "monster encounters" in his letters home, had at least as many fanciful descriptions concerning their latest quest as Jakob did. Twelve sleeping maidens sentenced to die during the eclipsed full moon? As if Ferdinand believed in curses and spells. Moving trees and man-eating horses? Ferdi was beginning to wonder if said full moon was not beginning to drive his brothers a bit loony. Werewolves! Really! Wilhelm was probably trying to get money out of him. Ferdinand would have to show him that he was not one of Will's darling credulous peasants. He might not be as smart as his older brothers were, but Ferdi was not stupid.
But how best to reprimand Will? He did not honestly want to hurt his brothers, nor turn them in to the French army, but Ferdi wanted to shock them back into reality. What these two needed was a taste of their own medicine. Ferdinand did not have the resources or brains of his brothers, but he did have his brothers and their resources to call upon. It was decided, then. Ferdinand would make a few visits to Carl, Ludwig, and perhaps a few of Will and Jake's former employees, spend a bit of the money he had been saving for another press on a few other necessities, and then invite Jakob and Wilhelm home to pick up a new copy of Jake's book. When they came, Ferdi would have a real ghost for the great monster hunters.
Perhaps he would even have another story to publish.