#92k

Title: Stella of Essex or The Vicar’s Wife Betrayed

Link on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40888113/chapters/102463110

Link on Tumblr

WattPad Link

Platform: Tumblr, Archive of Our Own, and Wattpad

Creator: @smolvenger on Tumblr, VasaliaTheWise on Ao3, @VasailiaTheWise on Wattpad

Work Type: Fanfiction

Fandom: The Essex Serpent

Rating: M

Pairing: Stella Ransome/William Ransome, eventually Stella/Male Original Character.

Word Count: 92,077

Warnings: Major Character Death/Injury (eye and hand trauma), Cheating, Murder, The Trauma of Being Cheated on, Good For Her Cinematic Universe, Illness, Suicidal Intentions, Loss of Two Children, Religion, Cursing, Drinking, Pregnancy and Childbirth, Discussions of Sex but no actual smut, Eventual Happy Ending.

Number of Comments: 1

Completion Status: Complete

He burrows into Even’s side. “What did you dream?”

“I dreamt,” Even says, touching the tip of Isak’s nose with his index finger. “that you and I were in the Arctic Circle.”

“Brrr.”

“No, it was summer, so it wasn’t that cold. The sun never set, though, just paused in the sky, and made everything orange-gold. Your hair was even longer than it is now, and you had tiny freckles on the tops of your cheeks, and your nose.”

“What were we doing?”

“Nothing. Just walking around or talking. I couldn’t hear what we were saying, but I could see our lips move, and we laughed. It was like I was watching a movie with the volume turned off. But I was happy.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It felt nice. You looked older, though.”

“How old?” Isak narrows his eyes. “Like, elderly?”

Even smiles. “Not exactly. You had a beard.”

92k, NC-17, Fluff and Smut

Author Summary: “Seven months after the end of the war, Harry is feeling lost. Fortunately, he is about to be offered an unexpected and sparkling chance to find himself again.” 

Even embraces him. “Thank you for being here with me, Isak. You make me feel so wonderful.”

They’re unexpected, Even’s words, but they immediately curl up inside Isak’s heart. Because, yes, he feels wonderful too. Wonderful, wonderful.

The wind blowing through the pine trees outside sounds like singing. Isak is happy, but still hungry. He's tired, he’s forgotten the time, and yet, still he wants.

There are white sheets on the bed, and Even looms over him, pale and long. Isak doesn’t think about skin. The body is abstract. There’s his heart and his mind, and Even’s lips kissing his neck, and down his chest. The world goes white like a sheet, and the images projected on it are bodies. Not theirs, but all the lovers in the world, infinitely-loving, and infinitely in love.

Isak murmurs sleepily, “Bounty, sea, for both are infinite.”

“Infinite,” Even echoes, stroking his hair. “An infinite many.”

Isak’s holding his phone so tight he accidentally presses the volume waaaaay up on A Milli, and he lowers it quickly before the bass causes his eardrums to burst. When he looks back up, the boy’s staring right at him. His gaze is easy, soft, and near-indolent, like he has all the time in the world to stare.

Isak slides his hand down Even's arm. “You look nice.”

“Yeah?”

“I like the rose. Classy.”

Even looks down at the pink bud in his lapel, fingers grazing the petals. “My mom wants to meet the person I’m dressing up for. Do you think he would mind meeting her? Not sure if he’s interested in that.”

Isak stills, fingers trailing down Even’s back. “Have you asked him?”

“I don’t think I have his number.”

“Oh, that’s too bad. Maybe I can help you out instead?” Isak stretches, then props his chin up with his hand. “I’ve been told I’m an ‘actor’.”

“There are those air quotes again.”

“The fucking best actor around.”

“The fucking best,” Even repeats, throwing his head back to laugh. Isak is lost for a moment, watching him, lost in the feeling of fluttering joy the sight gives him. It kills him to know that he once thought Even smiled too much. What an idiot past-him was. Even should smile all the time, and at Isak especially.

“Yes, me.”

“What are you suggesting, then?”

“That you hire me to play the part of your boyfriend. I can give you the full boyfriend experience.”

Even waggles his eyebrows. “The full experience, huh?”

“Yup, for a reasonable rate.”

“So you’re a prostitute?”

“No,” Isak’s eyes widen. “I’m an actor.” He holds a forefinger up for emphasis. “Close, but not the same thing.”

“I want this full experience.”

“You’ll get it.”

Isak and Even grin at each other for what feels like an endless moment. This is exactly where Isak wants to be.

There are four words, four words Isak stored in his heart and carried out here, through this cold night, to bring to Even. He whispers those words and hopes that Even hears him. Hopes that they aren’t drowned-out by Akerselva's steady thrum beneath their feet. Four important words. For Even, for himself, and anyone who thinks that they are by themselves, day or night, light or dark. He imagines the message as the river itself, carrying the words through the heart of the city, so that everyone knows. Another infinitely-told story to be shared when needed most.