AUTHOR'S NOTE: I don't own the characters (Miramax does) or the fairy tales referenced in this story. I'm not making one single penny off this story. (pauses) I wouldn't mind borrowing the boys for awhile though…
1) This is rated TEEN for a reason. There are some very adult themes and situations and angst in here and some violence. It deals with rather dark issues relating to familial rifts and deaths of family members (if you saw the movie, you know to what I'm referring). Can't handle, please don't read. 2) Although there are religious references in the story, nothing is based on any real people or cults. They were completely fabricated for plot purposes and if you see similarities to any real people or cults, you are squinting way too hard, if you know what I mean. Do not try anything you see in this story, boys and girls, because it's all made up stuff. So, if anyone flames for reasons of dark themes or religious references, I'm going to ignore it because I've given fair warning. 3) The opinions expressed by characters do not reflect the opinion of this writer. See Chapter One for the rest of the notes.
2
The doubts plagued Will each league of his journey. It had been a long ride since he'd left the barn, which left far too much time for his idle thoughts to wander in directions best unexplored. More than once in the two days of travel, Will had reined his horse to a stop as the doubts temporarily got the better of him: Doubt at the logic of this fool's errand, doubt that there was one good reason to hasten off at the behest of a dream that was probably nothing more than a consequence of too much ale or bad beef anyway. Several times, he turned back completely, intent on abandoning his journey entirely. He would never turn back for more than a few minutes before, cursing himself for a fool, he did another about-face and continued onward to his destination.
Ludicrous. Ridiculous.
Thoughts not contemplating the merit of his venture centered around what might be waiting at the end of his ride. The potential humiliation of admitting that pragmatic Wilhelm Grimm had charged off in search of an estranged sibling because of a bad dream paled in comparison to uncertainty of what reaction he'd receive when he finally did track down the wayward Jacob Grimm. Will had no idea what to expect when he and his brother were face-to-face---not from Jacob, and not from himself.
How many years had it been since Will had last seen his brother? It was difficult to recall---even when they were boys living under the same roof, after Sister's death, he and Jacob were virtually strangers. They had occupied two different worlds. Will's was anger; Jacob's was make believe. Will had avoided his brother as much as possible. After Mother had sent Jacob away to school, Will almost never saw his brother…
Did Jacob even know that Mother had died? Or was he traipsing around the hills of Germany with his nose still pressed in that book of his naively chasing magic and twaddle? Will wondered sullenly.
His mind was straying too near dire subjects; Will cleared those thoughts from his head and distracted himself with the scenery. Hollenstadt had been the city listed on Jacob's last letter to their Mother, a letter which found its way into Will's possession instead: It had arrived one week after Mother's passing, delivered with meek apologizes by none other than the village's priest.
"This arrived on one of the boats this morning. Under the circumstances, I thought you might want it," the priest had explained upon presenting it to Will.
"I most certainly do not," Will had curtly refused the envelope.
The priest had looked scandalized. "He is your brother, Wilhelm."
"Painfully true, Father, but the envelope was not meant for me, and I have no interest in anything he has to say. My answer remains 'no'. Return it to Jacob if you wish." Will had attempted to close the door on the priest, but the man had pressed the letter into the younger man's hands.
"Forgiveness is Divine, my son," the priest said firmly, "but if it's your intention to carry on pretending your brother doesn't exist, the return the letter yourself. Good day, Wilhelm."
Somehow, Will had never got around to sending the letter back, neither could he bring himself to discard or burn it in spite of the desire to do so. He'd shoved it into his saddlebag before departing for the last time from the village that his family had briefly called home. Will had subsequently forgotten about the note and put thoughts about Jacob from his mind. He had not looked upon the envelope again until the dream…nightmare…and even now, its wax seal remained unbroken. Will had needed only Jacob's location---an address, and nothing more---and his brother at least had the courtesy to provide that on the outside of the envelope, sparing Will the necessity of examining the letter's contents.
The path curved and gradually wound its way into rolling hillsides. Will felt more uneasy the farther he went, unsettled by the familiarity of the low clouds that hung like fog on the hillsides and the damp winter air caused images from his nightmare to surface unbidden. The eerie feeling that he was riding into that dream realm formed a knot in his stomach. Every snap of twigs beneath his horse's hooves or unanticipated echo of an animal's cry on the wind made him jump until Will finally grew annoyed with himself for his own skittishness.
Nothing but a coincidence, Will. You do not believe in precognition. He clung to those words like a mantra to ward off the specters from that nightmare…as if they might appear along this trail at any moment to attack him. And you do not believe in ghosts.
Nevertheless, he urged the horse to pick up its pace. The sooner he reached Hollenstadt and satisfied himself that Jacob was in no mortal peril, the sooner he could put nightmares out of his mind and return to his normal, rational world.
The city of Hollenstadt dated back to the days of Christ...although it was rumored to have existed a good four hundred years earlier than that (rumors which were dismissed as fables and legends devised by ancient settlers in the land). In the times when Rome had its heyday, Hollenstadt had been an opulent city often visited by Roman travelers, but had reverted into a farming community over the centuries, with little traces of opulence to be found. The tiny village lay in the hills at the confluence of the Moselle, Saar, and Ruwer rivers. The houses and the church were built around one central square, which was highlighted by a fountain with a statue of St. Peter and the farmers' market, which was the hub of trade in the village.
Will rode into the village shortly after midday. By then, the marketplace was crowded with peddlers pawning their wares, villagers going about their daily routines, and a few stray vagrants beseeching alms. The arrival of the rider in black earned no more than a few curious stares, but only the beggars showed active interest in the newcomer. The indifference of the busy crowd meant that Will's efforts to ask after Jacob or to acquire directions to the address on the envelope fell mostly on deaf ears. Finally, for the price of one coin, he was able to buy the information he required from a boy who was busily herding uncooperative goats through the marketplace. The boy had not seen nor heard of any 'Jacob Grimm', but he pointed Will in the direction of the address on the letter.
Will had expected Jacob's address to lead to a boarding house of some sort, or perhaps a room above the local tavern. It was no small surprise when Will found himself standing before a church instead. His first reaction was to think the goat herder had mislead him or misunderstood Will's inquiry. I should go and retrieve my money, he mused. Still, perhaps someone within the church could provide better directions. He climbed the flight of stairs up to the ornate building and stepped inside.
The sole occupant of the church was the gray-haired priest, a fellow of extremely advanced years from the looks of him. The elderly man was at the task of shimmying up a small ladder to refill the oil lanterns mounted along the walls of the church. Will cleared his throat to gain the priest's attention. When the man glanced his way, Will added: "Begging your pardon, Father."
The elderly man beamed an enthusiastic smile (missing several teeth) in greeting. "No, no, come in, my boy, come in." He awkwardly climbed down the small ladder, balancing the oilcan in one hand and clinging to the ladder with the other. Will moved to steady it until the priest was safely standing on solid ground. The aged man could barely walk; Will wondered why there was no one helping with his task. "I'm Father Traugott. You're new here, yes?" the priest asked cheerfully, shaking Will's hand.
"Will Grimm." From the priest's lack of reaction, Will deduced that the name meant nothing to him. That was discouraging. "I've only just arrived. I won't be here long," Will confirmed.
Father Traugott moved his ladder to the next lantern. When he tried to place his foot on the bottom rung and missed, Will---politely as possible---relieved the elderly man of the oilcan. "Please, allow me?" He might not believe in specters and fairy tales, but he was still a religious man. He would have enough to answer for on the Judgment Day without having to explain how he'd let a priest crack his head open tumbling off a two foot ladder…in a church no less.
The priest gratefully accepted the help. With great relief, he sank down onto a convenient pew for a rest. "Most kind. Bless you, son." Father Traugott studied Will with keen eyes that showed age had not dulled his intelligence one bit. Will had the peculiar feeling that the man could see into his very soul and read his thoughts. "And what is it I can do for you Will Grimm?"
"I'm looking for a man…" Will managed to hook an arm around the ladder and hold the oilcan in one hand while drawing out the letter from his coat pocket with his other hand to pass the paper to Father Traugott. "…my brother, in fact. His name is Jacob. Jacob Grimm. You can see that he used your church for the address he sent ho---to our Mother."
The priest studied the paper, his puzzlement obvious. "I'm rather good with names, son, but I don't recall a Jacob Grimm. A distinct name, isn't it? I'm sure I'd remember it."
"Blonde hair, like mine only curly and down to his ears? My height, around my age. Clean-shaven? Brown eyes? Probably wearing a black overcoat?" Will described his brother. Father Traugott still appeared bewildered.
"I don't recall seeing a man like that." The priest chuckled. "I spoke incorrectly---I should say, I recall seeing many young men who match that description. Of course, most of our town's visitors frequent the marketplace instead of my church, sad to say. You might ask there."
Will tried to mask his disappointment from the amiable older man. "I'm afraid I didn't have much luck there either." Then, Will had an inspiration. "Jacob might have been carrying a very thick book…I'm sure he'd have been quite possessive of it."
The priest's eyes lit up suddenly. His countenance became cheerful, but only briefly, and then his expression melted into dismay. "I do recall a fellow passing through here six weeks ago. But, not as you described him---this boy had very short blonde hair and a beard, glasses, a black overcoat, yes, and a book. The book was bound with a silk cord with a peculiar pendant…the pendant matches the seal on this letter if my memory serves…and he was possessive of the book indeed."
That description matched the image of Jacob as he'd been in Will's nightmare. Will blanched a bit. That means nothing, he told himself
Father Traugott regarded Will as if debating how best to impart very bad news. "This young man was making inquiries about a rather---unsettling---subject. Some would say a blasphemous subject. He caused no small amount of agitation among most of the God-fearing folks in this town. There were some who thought he was---with apologies, son---a, well, a madman."
"Yes, that would be Jake." Will took no offense, having often believed the same thing. "What 'subject'?"
Dismay blossomed into full scorn on the priest's face. Forgetting his own aching body and fragility, the elder man stood up and reclaimed his oilcan from Will. "Subjects best forgotten…and never to be spoken of in a house of the Lord. I wouldn't speak of it with your brother, and I will not speak of it now." The priest's tone brooked no argument. "I'd counsel you not to follow your brother into folly by pressing the matter."
Those words and the priest's suddenly grave demeanor were making Will nervous. Oh God, he's going to tell me they burned Jacob as a heretic… "They wouldn't have done something to my brother?" he asked, careful to keep his tone even.
"We are not barbarians, Mr. Grimm," the priest defended his flock. "But I admit there were those who considered it. I convinced those of bad intentions that they'd simply misunderstood the nature of your brother's inquiries. And I advised your brother that it might be in his best interest to make his visit to our good town as short as possible. I'm glad to say he had the wit to heed my advice."
Will felt a burst of gratitude to the older man for that. "Well, thank you for your wise counsel, Father. I apologize for any---commotion---my brother caused."
Father Traugott's scowl softened, and little by little his kind smile returned. "Are you your brother's keeper, then?"
You have no idea. "It would appear that someone needs to take on the task," Will mumbled, not relishing the notion.
"You're angry with him?" the priest observed.
Insightful indeed, Will confirmed his first impression of the man. "Let's suffice that I'm very used to him blundering into subjects that he shouldn't. You wouldn't know where he went after your…advice?"
The priest shrugged apologetically. "No, son, I'm sorry. I don't know why he would direct your Mother to my humble house of worship."
Will nearly laughed at that. "If he riled your good townsfolk as much as you said, I've no doubt he believed you'd be the last person to see him and the church would be the place to find him…one way or the other." That knowledge did nothing to make Will feel better. No, quite the opposite: After Father Traugott's story about Jacob treading into forbidden subjects and nearly incurring the wrath of the villagers, the exchange with the priest had only intensified Will's concern. Before heading to the door, he added, "Thank you again for your help, Father."
Traugott nodded once, then returned to his lanterns and ladder. Will left the man to his work. He paused once outside, surveying the village without a thought on where to look next.
What foolishness are you chasing now, Jake?
Traugott watched as the boy skulked, disappointed, from the church. When Will stepped out into the daylight, leaving the aged man alone, Traugott's kindly smile disappeared. Abandoning his lanterns, he removed the clerical collar from around his neck and strode across the deserted church and into the back room. The room contained shelves of books, a large desk, and a bird cage which housed a messenger pigeon that stared at Traugott while the man sat down at the desk, picked up a quill, and began writing a message on a small slip of paper. When the ink had dried, Traugott rolled up the note and fastened it to the bird's legs.
He carried the messenger bird to a window at the back of the church, where it was in no danger of being seen by the villagers, and released it into the sky.
He'd done all he could do. There was nothing he could do now except continue his masquerade and keep an eye on Wilhelm Grimm until he received a reply to his message. With luck, by the time the bird returned, the elder Grimm would find his young brother and spare Traugott the need for this charade. He didn't particularly enjoy impersonating a priest…but for the good of all mankind, he would do so as long as necessary.