So, thank you to everyone! Really, thank you. You are who kept me going through the writing of the chapters. I was this close to just tossing the whole idea of writing in this fandom, which seems to have a few very vicious, mostly anonymous trolls. In all my years of writing I've never run into such behavior in the fandoms I chose. Now it happened twice, each time when I tackled Nick/Renard. Grimm apparently draws them out and a few innocent remarks set them off into a flaming hatred. I promise to finish this story. :)
This chapter contains massive SPOILERS for Leave it to the Beavers!
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Nick had picked up the phone three times and always put it down again, the last time after having pulled up the number and staring at it for a good five minutes.
Finally he did call and it was kind of awkward.
Topped only by the face-to-face when Frank Rabe opened the door to his home and gave Nick a careful smile.
"I didn't think you'd really take me up on my offer," the lawyer said as he led him inside.
Nick knew the layout of the house; he had been here on a case. A lot had changed since then. All the tastefully arranged art was gone, leaving open rooms that looked like they were missing something, though not what. There were no more bear masks or carved figures or strange weaponry.
Frank smiled grimly at him. "After… after it all, I changed things. Not just on the outside. Everything. I never wanted this. It wasn't what I wanted my son to learn."
Nick held up a hand, giving the jagerbar a calming smile. "I understand, Frank. Completely. And you don't have to justify what you did."
Rabe exhaled explosively, clearly agitated. "I'm sorry. It's… all of this… even after the cabin… is unusual."
"Tell me about it."
Frank nodded. "You want coffee? Or a soda? I'm not sure about a beer."
"Soda's fine."
Settling down with their drinks, Nick smiled again, trying to project that he wasn't here for anything but help.
"I want to understand wesen politics. Not the details, just… what I might need. Because I do need an edge in this."
"You're not a politician, Nick."
"No, just mated to one. I didn't think it would be easy to have a regnant as a bonded mate, but after everything… after the whole mess with Aunt Marie…" He stopped, feeling those old scars ache again. "I didn't think I'd have to know more than the history of each creature I faced, had to deal with or that approached me. There's nothing on politics in the books my ancestors kept."
"Grimms were never involved in politics, Nick. What they were…" He shrugged. "Nightmares. Killers. Judge, jury and executioners."
"But I'm not that guy!"
Frank smiled. "No, you're not. Definitely not."
"And I need to know more than what a book tells me." He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. "Whatever you can. About connections between different wesen, politically. And what you know about… my mate."
Rabe's brows rose.
Nick sighed and scrubbed a hand over his forehead. "I know what he is. I know he does everything to protect his territory. I just want to understand… him."
"That… might take a while. I'm no expert and I never played the political ball game, but I was close enough. And I know a little about regnants, though that's mostly from hearsy."
Nick smiled briefly. "I'll take whatever you got."
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It took an eisbiber to finally jumpstart their relationship back into gear.
Sort of anyway.
Well, actually it were two reapers who had been sent to take out the Portland Grimm. It spoke of their lack of information and intel that they actually took on the job after Renard had warned them off. It spoke of an unlimited stupidity to come into his protectorate, attack his mate and think they would get away with it.
Renard hadn't been in the loop because Nick had still been distant, but no longer sending in Hank for the reports, and while Sean had known about the hässlichen and their contracts with the eisbiber owned construction companies, he hadn't heard about the reapers.
His mate was unharmed. He had defeated two reapers, taken their heads off. There hadn't been a scratch on him, though maybe a hidden bruise or two.
Monroe had told him all about it, about the training in the woods, about the case, about the trolls.
And Renard had felt proud; incredibly, stupidly proud of his Grimm, of his mate, of Nick Burkhardt who had opened up to his gift and his abilities. He had seen it in his stride the next time he saw Nick, had felt it in the waves of power he gave off, and he craved to feel it through the bond.
His.
His alone.
Despite everything, despite the pain and the loneliness and the guilt, Renard couldn't be but possessive and claim the Grimm as his.
Their eyes met over the file when Nick dropped off the report and Renard gave him a tentative, tiny smile that relayed his pride, as well as asked about Nick himself.
His mate held the gaze, then smiled slightly himself.
He was okay.
And he had shown the reapers just who they were dealing with. Another tidbit of information Monroe had given him through a brief phone conversation. Nick had sent the heads of the reapers back to their boss.
Renard had never felt so amazingly proud that moment.
Nick was growing; incredibly strong and fast and more than the regnant had ever thought possible.
He was more than Marie Kessler could ever have been and maybe she had known; she had known something about his lineage, about his parents, about his heritage. A heritage that hadn't been triggered when his mother had died because he had been too young. It had been there, dormant and waiting, for the right moment.
Renard had helped along and he understood how that had seemed to Nick, how it had hurt his mate, but it had also been Nick's blessing. He was who he was today because of Marie and her plans, because she had signed an unwritten contract with a Guardian.
And because Renard was a Guardian and because the reapers had thrown caution and warnings to the wind, entering his protectorate to kill a Grimm, he retaliated in kind. Nick might have sent a message, a warning of his own kind, but Renard wasn't a Grimm, nor was he easily appeased when it came to breaking the rules and laws.
Butrell was the first to feel his wrath. Not only did his office go down on charges of corruption, murder and blackmail, as well as whatever else Renard was able to make stick, he went down not much later, together with his companions. Renard felt no mercy for the hässlichen. The man had ordered a hit on a police officer, who happened to be a Grimm and accidentally was also the bonded mate to the Guardian of Portland.
It was slightly satisfactory to see the realization and fear in the troll's eyes as Renard laid out the facts for him.
"I didn't know, your highness," he whimpered.
It was amazing how such a bear of a man could become a groveling piece of garbage within a moment's notice. There was true fear, almost terror. No, scrap that. It was terror. Renard could smell it on him, and he hadn't even shown his true face.
"You should have," he only stated coldly. "Why do you think I would let a Grimm run free in my protectorate?"
Anyone with two working braincells could have done the math. Portland was a protected city and Grimms were dangerous. No one could accuse a regnant of letting danger run undealt with.
"Sir…"
"He let you live, Butrell. For the sole reason that he is an officer of the law and not a ruthless killer."
The hässlichen stared at him, pale-faced, sweat on his brow, still showing signs of the roughing up he had endured by the reapers he had hired.
"As his mate I'm very much entitled to take your life. But because I'm his mate I won't. It's not what he wants." He smiled coldly. "Make no mistake. I will tear you apart if you so much as breathe the wrong way ever again."
Frantic nodding was the answer.
"It would be in your best interest to accept your sentence."
A murder charge; with corruption and extortion and blackmail on top of it.
"And should you see the light of day again, leave my territory. This is your first and final warning."
"I will, your highness. Thank you."
x x x
And that was that.
At least for the hässlichen.
The reapers were not shown any mercy and Renard knew that his lust for blood was fueled by the pain he felt at Nick's continued silence across the bond, as well as his own fury for their attempt on his mate's life. He unleashed all of it on the man who had agreed to the hit, as well as his companions.
The bodies were never found, but the message was received.
Adalind returned from her overseas trip with a smile of triumph. She and her sisters had done good work.
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His rage dealt with, the emotions evening out, Sean tried not to let the cold darkness that was the bond sweep him away again.
There were tiny pulses now and then, Nick actually letting part of him through. It was what kept Renard hoping, what had him watch his detective and turn to the silence whenever Nick was there.
He caught the gray eyes once or twice, saw the wavering resolution, saw the cracking shields, and hope flared. What he had done in the aftermath of the Grosszahn murder hadn't been retribution; it had been justice and revenge and within the rights of a regnant.
But a small part of him, almost like a primal, instinctive side, had tried to show Nick that despite everything he was a worthy mate. He would protect him, if Nick let him, had protected him so often in the past, and he wouldn't turn away from him.
Never.
Because even if Nick refused to ever let Sean that close again, he was still his mate, still the Grimm of Portland, and nothing could change that.
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Facing Renard was something Nick hadn't been looking forward to. The shields were still up, though wavering. Now and then things had… leaked. And some of it had been violent, the next had been despair, then triumph. And once there had been hatred. Not directed at him, more like an echo of something else. It had been shortly after the eisbiber case.
Because of the reapers, Nick now understood. Because they had entered the protectorate and hunted without informing the Guardian. Frank had given him an insight into the territorial behavior of some wesen that not even the bond had been able to relay. He had been a regnant's mate for less than a year, not even eight months, and no one had ever told him what that really meant. Understanding the complicated web behind the seemingly effortless power Renard wielded was… an eye-opener.
Nick had no idea what mood the other man was in, though it was hard not to miss the painfully composed and shielded expression. And Nick was still too emotional himself. Even if his logical side had come to understand that this hadn't been an assassination, that it had only looked like one to the outside world, and that his partner had done everything in his considerable power to keep Nick safe and make him part of the protectorate – whether he might one day end up as Renard's mate or not.
And that was nothing the regnant could have influenced himself.
Nick was very much aware that he held a lot more power than it looked like to an outsider in this relationship. He was a controlling factor in many things. If he turned his back on the creature, there was nothing Renard could do. If he laid down the rules, the other man would grudgingly have to follow.
There was only one rule: no more lies. No matter how painful, Nick wanted to know what was going on. He didn't want to be coddled or protected or kept on the sidelines because he was human and might not understand. He was a regnant's bonded mate and he had to understand what his partner was involved in.
Everything.
Because they were in this together to the end.
His conversations with Frank had shed a lot of light on some of the behavior of the past and he hoped he understood more now.
Then there had been the Grosszahn murder and the reaper hit. That had taken his mind off Sean for a while, but only to bring it all back with a bang when he had taken out the two reapers and sent his message.
For the first time he had been without back-up. He had been alone and he had won and it had been the Grimm fighting. It had been the primal side inside him, the one that faced a threat and came out to play in a way Nick had never thought he could. His abilities had surprised himself.
It had been then and there, sitting in the dark, damp environment, waiting for Monroe to show up, that he had wanted nothing more than to talk to Renard in that very moment because in a way he suddenly understood so much.
And he understood and accepted the outcome of the hit on him. Renard had sent his own message and he had dealt with matters his own way, because the hit had directly involved him as well. The reapers had broken a million laws, and they had hunted a regnant's mate.
Yes, so much made sense now. So much was suddenly clear to him, thanks to Frank Rabe and Monroe and his own perusing of more books than he had read in months.
It was time to face his mate, to repair what could be repaired, to define their relationship anew.
Because they couldn't go back to what had been before. Nick was no longer who he had been.
This was more than a relationship between two people. One happened to be a powerful wesen, who also happened to be the ruler of this protectorate; the other was a powerful Grimm, who was also the protectorate's arbitrator and police.