Chapter 12: Juliette's Fate and Royal Secrets
The air in Nick's house was thick with a tension that had nothing to do with Wesen and everything to do with the woman lying pale and still in the bed. Juliette. She had fallen into a coma, a delayed, insidious effect of Adalind's earlier Hexenbiest curse. Adam's proactive intervention had prevented the full, devastating transformation into Eve, but the magical backlash was still potent, still threatening Juliette's life.
Nick sat by her bedside, his face etched with a desperate worry that tore at Adam's pragmatic heart. Monroe hovered nearby, wringing his hands, offering whispered words of comfort and obscure Wesen remedies that, for once, weren't helping.
"There has to be something," Nick pleaded, his voice hoarse. "Some way to wake her up. Some way to fix this."
Adam, ever the pragmatist, was already sifting through his mental library of canon events. He knew the cure, or at least, a cure. It involved Renard. And a very uncomfortable truth.
Just then, the doorbell rang. Nick, startled, looked up. "Who could that be?"
Adam already knew. "Probably the cavalry. Or, you know, the guy who's about to drop a massive bombshell on your already fragile worldview."
It was Captain Renard. He stood in the doorway, his usual composed demeanor replaced by a strained urgency. He looked directly at Adam, a silent plea in his eyes. He knew Adam knew.
"Nick," Renard began, his voice surprisingly gentle, "we need to talk. About Juliette. And about… me."
Nick's eyes narrowed. "What about you, Captain?"
Renard sighed, running a hand over his face. "There's no easy way to say this. I'm… I'm not entirely human, Nick. I'm a Zauberbiest. A Royal. And I'm the only one who can help Juliette."
Nick stared, his jaw slowly dropping. Monroe let out a small, strangled gasp.
Oh, the look on his face, Adam thought, a tiny, inappropriate part of him amused despite the gravity of the situation. It's like he just found out Santa Claus is a Blutbad. And he's got a naughty list.
"A… a Zauberbiest?" Nick stammered, his eyes flickering between Renard and Adam, as if seeking confirmation of this new insanity.
Adam nodded. "He's telling the truth, Nick. And he's also the only one who can perform the ritual to break Adalind's curse on Juliette. It's… complicated. And it involves a prince, a Hexenbiest, and a whole lot of magical mumbo jumbo."
Renard looked at Adam, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. "You… you know about this?"
"Let's just say I've done my homework," Adam replied, a casual shrug. "Now, less talking, more ritual-ing. Juliette's not getting any better."
Renard, with Adam's unnerving knowledge guiding him, explained the ritual. It was a dark, ancient piece of magic, requiring a Hexenbiest (Adalind, specifically), a Grimm (Nick), and a Royal (Renard himself). The goal was to transfer the curse from Juliette to Adalind, severing its connection to Juliette's life force.
Adam, with his meta-knowledge, knew the canon ritual was messy, leading to Juliette's amnesia and her eventual attraction to Renard. He was determined to prevent that.
"Alright, here's the deal," Adam said, his voice firm. "We're going to do this, but we're going to do it my way. Renard, you'll perform the ritual. Nick, you'll be the Grimm anchor. Monroe, you'll be our Wesen expert, making sure no one accidentally turns into a toad. And I'll be the… magical overseer. Making sure no one deviates from the script. And making sure Juliette doesn't end up with amnesia and a sudden, inexplicable crush on the Captain."
Renard looked at Adam, a flicker of suspicion in his eyes. "How do you intend to prevent that?"
"Trade secret," Adam said, winking. "Just trust me. I've seen this movie before. And I know how to get a better ending."
They brought a subdued Adalind to Nick's house, her eyes still dull from her earlier defeat, but a spark of malicious glee returning as she realized the predicament. She was bound, unable to woge or use her magic.
The ritual was tense. Renard, stripped of his usual composure, chanted in an ancient language, his face contorted with effort. Nick, grim-faced, held a hand over Juliette, his Grimm senses straining. Monroe, pale and nervous, watched for any anomalies. Adam, meanwhile, stood back, his eyes sharp, observing every detail, ready to intervene if anything went off script.
The air crackled with dark magic. Juliette convulsed, a faint, sickly green light emanating from her. Adalind, despite being bound, writhed, a similar green light flaring around her. The curse was transferring.
Adam focused, his Aura of the First Grimm subtly influencing the magical flow, guiding it, ensuring the transfer was complete, but without the lingering side effects that plagued Juliette in canon. He pushed, subtly, against the parts of the curse that would cause amnesia, that would twist her affections.
Finally, with a guttural cry from Renard and a last, desperate shriek from Adalind, the green light faded. Juliette lay still, her breathing shallow but steady. Adalind slumped, unconscious.
Nick rushed to Juliette's side, his hand on her forehead. "Juliette? Can you hear me?"
Her eyes fluttered open. She looked at Nick, then around the room, her gaze lingering on Renard, then on Adam. "Nick? What… what happened?" Her voice was weak, but clear. There was no confusion, no blankness in her eyes. And no sudden, inexplicable attraction to Renard.
Success! Adam thought, a wave of relief washing over him. No amnesia. No Hexenbiest-lite. Just a very confused, very tired veterinarian.
Renard, exhausted, looked at Adam, a grudging respect in his eyes. "How… how did you do that? The amnesia… it usually happens."
"Like I said, Captain," Adam said, a tired but triumphant smirk. "I know things. Now, I suggest you get Adalind out of here before she wakes up and tries to turn us all into newts again. And Nick, get Juliette to a hospital. She's going to need a lot of rest. And probably a very long, very detailed explanation."
One bullet dodged, Adam thought, watching Nick gently stroke Juliette's hair. The canon's breaking. And this time, it's for the better.