Chapter 2:
Forest Grove wasn't that far outside of Portland. Just take Highway 26 and you entered a quaint collage town that's just far away to pretend that it's not near the big city. The university was small enough to not be considered impressive to larger establishments, but big enough for Nick and Hank to get lost…twice.
After asking around, they learned that Professor Deage's office was in Carnegie Hall. The building was white brick with red brick accents and pillars. It spoke of a time when the Charleston was all the rage in the dance halls.
Asking for directions was becoming a habit needing to be rehashed until they located her office. The door was closed and no one was answering their knocks. They were just about to leave, when they saw a small young woman walking towards them. Nick cringed when he saw that she was wearing a bright hooded scarf. Bad memories from his first case after he found out he was a Grimm. He'd never look at the color red the same again. Took him a minute to realize she paired it with an army green, trench pea coat. It was an interesting combination that worked for her.
She stopped in front of them waiting. After a few seconds she spoke in a soft almost lyrical voice, "Is there something you needed, gentlemen, or are you just blocking my office for kicks?"
Nick replied, "You're office? You're Professor Deage? But you're, you're…."
She laughed, "I may look like a kid, but I assure you I'm older than I look. Care to card me?"
Nick blushed, "Um, no Professor. Sorry. When Sgt. Wu talked about you, I picture you…older."
She smirked, "No offense taken. I get that reaction a lot. Just last week a student patrol wanted to know why I was breaking curfew. Even with my ID it took some time to convince him I wasn't a student. So, can I get into my office now? It will be much more comfortable to talk in there."
Sheepish they moved out of the way to let her open her office door. Silently they looked around as she got settled. Books were crammed everywhere. If there was a flat surface, books were piled high on it. Shoved in random places were fairy statues and the odd knickknack. It should have looked cluttered and messy, but instead it was enchanting. A place that you'd picture Merlin would feel comfortable exploring the mysteries of the universe.
The woman was just as intriguing. She had a soft dreamy look. Her dense brown hair was left long and unbound which framed her face. Nowhere as long as Holly Clark's when she was living as a wild child in the forest for nine years, but still longer than current fashion was dictating at the moment. She had large blue eyes that seem to take everything in at once, sharp without being hard. Her face was what his mom called a quiet beauty. It reached for your heart before you realized how beautiful the person was. The rest of her was small, but still with the curves that made it obvious that she was a woman. The Jack Skellington shirt was a nice touch.
Sitting on the desk, she smiled, "So, how is Wu? I miss our talks."
Nick laughed, "Still traumatized over an answer you gave. Did you really get banned from trivia night?"
She just smiled.
She asked, "So, I'm guess you two are not here for a social call, talk about the political tensions of the local trivia scene. What weird and warped thing do you need my help with?"
Hank frowned, "What makes you think it's weird and warped?"
She answered, "If it was just run of the mill, you wouldn't be talking to me. You told me that you got my information from Wu. He only associates me with the bizarre. So, what have you got for me? Do your worst."
Hank handed her the crime scene photos. She looked at them in silence. It was impossible to read her face while she looked at each one. It seemed as if she somehow detached herself from the horrors of the images.
Nodding she looked up, "Well, it seems what you boys have is a sleeping beauty."
Nick frowned, "Sleeping Beauty? I thought she was supposed to be surrounded by roses and dressed like a princess or something. She looks more like an elf."
She laughed, "You've learned fairytales from Disney, right? That's just the airbrushed version. These tales have been passed down for centuries. Changing with what lessons the storyteller wished to convey. You're Sleeping Beauty is from Norse legends. She's dressed like a Valkyrie and I bet you had a lovely ring of fire around her."
Nick nodded, "That's right. You're saying that the killer didn't light the fire to preserve the scene, but it was part of the scene, itself?"
The Professor nodded, "Yes. In the Norse version she was surrounded by fire instead of thorns. I guess plants weren't much of a deterrent for Vikings."
Hank asked, "Just out of curiosity, how different are some of these fairytales?"
She thought for a moment and then answered, "Many of them are very violent and risqué. The original 'Red Riding Hood' had it that she died and the wolf went on his merry way. One of the versions of 'Sleeping Beauty' had her waking up AFTER she gave birth to twins."
Hank just stood there stunned. Nick blinked trying to say something and failing.
She smirked, "I think that version was from the French Aristocracy. If I remember my dates, it was a little before the Marquis de Sade. Got to love those freaky French."
Nick finally found his voice, "In the original 'Red Riding Hood she dies? She doesn't get rescued?"
Professor Deage nodded, "Yes. The tale was to warn children the dangers of stepping off the path and talking to strangers. Most important was that children need to listen to their parents. Later it became a psychological example of sexual awakening and the struggle not to submit to 'the beast'."
Hanks piped up, "Let me guess, those freaky French again."
She smiled, "Not just them. There are a few of those stories running around. Many think that's where 'Beauty and the Beast' came from."
Hank blinked, "Okay. Thank you for your time Professor Deage. This has been most helpful." Mumbled "and weird." He then said louder, "Don't know what it means, but at least we have a place to start now."
Hank left first shaking his head. He didn't stop to see if Nick was following him.
As Nick turned to leave Professor Deage called his name. He turned back to her confused. He responded, "Yes, Professor?"
She smiled, "Please, call me Rosaleen. I don't even make my students call me Professor. I just want to say that if you need any more help with this let me know. I'm sure you've figured out that she's not going to be his last victim. I'm not a cop, but I could at least help you figure out the stories."
Nick smiled, "Thanks Rosaleen. I'll keep that in mind."
He started to walk out the office, but paused and then turned around to face her.
Nick asked, "Rosaleen, can I ask a weird question?"
She grinned, "Of course. They are my favorite kind."
He fidgeted, "About 'Red Riding Hood' and the different versions. Which one do you like the best?"
She smirked, "The one where she and the wolf live together after they run the woodsman off."
At his confused look she elaborated, "It's from a book called Politically Correct Fairytales. The stories are interesting to say the least. Anything else?"
Nick frowned, "Why that version?"
She answered, "That's easy. I've always had a soft spot for wolves."