Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The farmer was awoken by pattering on the roof. It was raining on the very first day of spring. She hopped out of bed, carefully stepping over her still-sleeping pup, and stumbled to the door with her overalls barely on—this weather was exactly what she had been waiting for.


The rain had already begun to turn the valley’s soil to muck, yet the farmer flung her door open and ran with little regard for the weather. She ran through her fields and down to the forest lake by Marnie’s place, to get to the back road of the town. It was too early for anyone to be up at this time so she ran through the eerily quiet fields without seeing a soul. Her boots made a sloshing, sucking sound with every step, but whether the mud would pull her boots off, the farmer wasn’t thinking of that. She was thinking of the beach. Not exactly a fun day in all this rain, but she’d spend as long as she had to, searching, waiting.


She had only heard rumors of a visitor who would only come to the tidepools on a rainy day like this. She had been waiting all winter to see if they proved true. The rumors held this visitor to be a sailor like Willy, weather-worn, leathery tan skin, salt-and-pepper stubble. He’s sung a line or two from a sea shanty at the saloon after one too many pale ales, about a sailor and the offering they’d bring to their loved one when they were ready to declare them their one true love: “When the sailor comes bearin’ the gift o’the sea/that’s when y’know ye’two are meant to be!” Gunther from the museum even gave her a book that spoke of a ghostly mariner appearing on rainy shores. Today she was looking for that sailor, or rather, she felt like she was the sailor, and she was looking for this offering, this “gift of the sea”.


The farmer has never seen this mysterious sailor, although she’s certain she’s met a man near the tidepools once. She knew everyone in town and she certainly did not know him. Still, it was a rainy day like this one. Perhaps she just couldn’t see them very well; it could’ve been Willy taking advantage of the weather to fish.


Or perhaps the rumors were true.


The sky was so dark with thick rain clouds that not even the light of dawn could penetrate them. But with the help of a glowing ring she found in the belly of a slime from the mines, the farmer, holding the ring on her finger nervously to her chin, approached the beach. The wet, clotted sand crunched under her boots as she approached the little plank bridge she built herself in her first year in the Valley to cross to the tidepools. The spirits must have been on her side that day. The ocean was restless but with her luck the bridge hadn’t washed away in the storm. Tides of pale green and white froth rushed the shoreline, rolling over the plank and leaving salty bubbles in the wood. Steady it stayed.


Somewhere in the Valley lightning struck and the farmer hesitated at the plank, thinking, as a reflex, of running to check on her rods. It was barely past seven, not that anyone could really tell with all the cloud coverage. The farmer knew she had to hurry up. She was getting soaked and she needed to hurry back to her fields to assess the damage, so she swallowed and bounded across the plank deftly.


The farmer wandered closer to the jungle, where she last saw the figure in the past year. Even in her boots, her toes were getting cold. She found herself shivering, but the glowing ring gave her at least a tiny mote of warmth. Not like fire, but like sunlight; natural, like love. That was why she was there, of course, in the pouring rain, on an island, looking for a sailor who may or may not exist, for this crazy little thing called love.


She couldn’t see anybody standing by the grove of palm trees as far as she could tell through the curtain of rain, so she peered into the jungle and as she did so the farmer felt her foot bump against something hard, a half-buried chunk of driftwood, and lost balance, crashing at the edge of the trees.


The farmer heard a voice, clear despite all the rain, say: “Not a smooth landin’, ay, lass?”


Her head shot up.


Her eyes met rubber boots, glistening as though wet yet somehow not so, just misty. She looked up, slowly, then got up all at once, disheveled and splattered with mud, sea water, and sand. “It’s you!” she stammered, trying to brush herself clean but with all the saltwater, the sand clung to her and only scratched her skin. Her cuts stung with the salt but the excitement of a legend coming true made it barely noticeable.


The old mariner simply said, “You have a sparkle in yer eye.”


“So you know what I came for.” The farmer waited for a bit then finally asked, “Is it true?”


“Is what true?”


“The rumors, that you have a special gift from the sea that can make your love come true?”


He shook his head slowly. “Oh, lass. Your love is already true. Even I can see that. All you have to do,” and he held out his hand, “is ask.”


In the palm of his hand was a shimmering, iridescent seashell necklace. It was a deep blue when the farmer saw it in the dim light, but when lightning flashed in the sky the farmer saw a myriad of colors dancing off the shell. It was perfect.


“The Mermaid’s Pendant,” the mariner told her. “Show it to anyone on this side of the coast and they’ll know exactly what it means.”


He slid the pendant into her hands. It felt cool with the rain and incredibly smooth like porcelain. Finally, it was right here! The tip of her nose burned as she began tearing up.


She went to embrace the mariner, “Thank…you?”, but he was gone.


“Sir?”


Nothing.

The farmer ran back the way she came, over the plank bridge, through the back road of town, and to the forest where Marine’s was, but there, she stopped. Across from Marnie’s farm was a cottage by the lake. Instead of going back to her farm, the farmer made straight for the little cabin.


As she approached she heard the dull sound of a wood carving mallet (when they first met she learned that wood carvers use more than blades to make sculptures, including hammers) ring through the door. The farmer checked her watch. She’s usually not up this early, she thought. She knocked anyway, a little too strong.


The hammering stopped. “Who is it?” That sweet and familiar voice made her heart melt.


“It’s me,” the farmer replied. Quickly the door opened.


The farmer smiled, sheepish and out of breath. “Hi, Leah.”


“Oh my gosh, Rocky! You’re soaking wet,” Leah cried, “and dirty! What happened?! C’mon, get in here!” and she corraled her inside. “Do you want a towel?” but Leah wasn’t really asking. She was already looking for one. She does this thing where she’ll pose something as if it were a question but she won’t wait for an answer. Rocky always found it endearing.


She said, “Thank you,” and began patting her unruly, windswept hair down. “You’re up early.”


“The lightning woke me up,” Leah said, taking over control of the towel and drying her girlfriend’s hair for her, “and then I just got hit with this sudden inspiration--”


“I guess you could say you were jolted awake and found your new muse shocking.”


Leah groaned. “Haha, very funny.”


“Thank you,” said the farmer, quite amused.


“But yeah, seriously, it was, like, so crazy…” And Leah began to ramble about the work she did that morning, the techniques she used, what worked and what didn’t, her future plans for projects, and pretty much anything that came to mind as she talked. The farmer just sat on a stool while she worked and listened contently, but the entire time, the pendant was burning a hole in her front overall pocket.
“What about you? What are you doing in the rain?”


“Huh? Oh, right.” She put a hand on the lump on her chest pocket. “Um, well, I…” As she was searching for the words, she decided to simply tell her the truth.


“I just couldn’t wait.” And she pulled out the pendant. It dangled between them.


“Let’s get married, Leah.”


Neither of them said anything for a moment. Rocky was waiting, but Leah covered her mouth in surprise, pricks of tears at the corner of her eyes. Through the spaces of her fingers, she whispered, “You mean it?”


“Yeah,” and she stood up. “Leah? Will you marry me?”


That was when Leah lost all composure. “Yes, YES! A thousand times yes!”


She pulled Rocky in, kissing her cheeks, her eyebrows, her forehead and all the little cuts from the beach. She still tasted like the ocean. Rocky hugged her waist and spun her around, her toes gently brushing the floor. Leah was telling her between her sobs, her laughs, and her kisses, “You dingus, you shouldn’t have gone out with all that lightning.”


But all the farmer said was, “It was all worth braving.”

Chapter Text

Fridays at the Stardrop Saloon are the busiest time of the week, perfect for the plan in mind. It kind of went without saying that everyone’s plan for a Friday night was to go to Gus’s. This night was just like every other. Every table was packed. Pam was hogging the Bar, and Gus with it. When the doors swung open and the local farmer walked in, Gus poured his last drink for Pam. Nobody else had seen it but he winked, knowingly. She winked back, smiling in silent agreement.


“Ess Jordan!” Pam cried out across the bar, slurring her words and waving a sticky mug, “Lookin’ BEE-YOO-TA-FOOL, henny!” At this, everyone in the saloon turned their heads and shouted greetings and laughter, including the doctor, Harvey, who turned from his conversation with Lewis to give a small, sheepish wave. When he turned back, Lewis had stepped away to talk to Willy.


It’s been no secret that the two shyest citizens in town have been dating for some time, much to their embarrassment. But when the farmer walked in more dressy than usual, the townspeople figured that this was an important, even spectacular occasion. Anyone in the saloon that night could be asked and they’d all agree: she already was beautiful in her own way, but now she was beautifully different.


Her hair, usually wrapped up in a sweaty bun, now barely brushed her shoulders in tight, crisp curls. Instead of her farmers’ slacks and a light layer of grime, she wore a black knee-length dress with lace sleeves, which no one had ever seen before. Part of this was because they had never seen the farmer in something other than casual wear, but the real kicker was that she was modeling an Emily and Haley collaboration debut. It had taken them a while to learn how to cooperate but once they heard why she needed a dress everything just fell into place afterward.


As she approached the bar Gus and Emily came around. They and Haley were the only three citizens in town who were in on her plan, and were offering to help nonetheless! Haley was sitting near the back with her camera sitting in her lap underneath the table. Emily pulled a stool in front of Jordan and with a hand from Gus she gracefully stepped up to the counter.


Jordan turned, slowly, to the crowd. She felt her heartbeat pounding in her ears. She was sure she was going to burst.


“Um, hi, everyone--Oh! Thanks, Gus.” There was sharp, whining feedback as Gus handed her the karaoke mic and in reflex, she held it as far as possible from her, grimacing. Behind the bar, Emily and Gus were quietly arguing over the spaghetti-mess of cords. Somebody had dimmed all the lights, except for the ones over the bar, so it looked somewhat like a spotlight. When it quieted, she whispered, “Is, uh...is it on? Yeah? Oh! Um, hi, everybody.”


Emily enthusiastically hollered. The farmer grew even redder.


“So, you’re probably wondering, ‘what the heck is she doing on top of that bar’? And well, I’m asking myself the same thing.”
The audience chuckled.


“Well, I’m not going to sing--”


A few aw’s from the younger crowd and some shushes in response. Jordan waited for everything to settle, then Haley gave her a thumbs-up.


“But I did want to do this...I mean, say this, in public--Gus, did you make it hotter in here or…?”


The crowd began to murmur. Jordan hoped they couldn’t see her knees wobble. Emily told her later that they never even noticed.


Somebody suddenly shushed the whole saloon in one aggressive breath. It was Pam. With a supportive nod from her, Jordan gulped and turned back to the mic and the crowd.


“Well, you see, uh…”


Jordan looked at Harvey.


“Harvey and I, uh, we...went on a balloon ride recently!”


Confused murmurs.


“And uh...oh my gosh it’s kind of scary to think about. But, like, it was fun at the same time? Um...we were terrified, which is an understatement.” She laughed weakly. “Heights are...not our thing. But! We did it, and it was super scary, and we almost didn’t do it but then we did--”


At that moment, Haley caught her eye. She was making a circling gesture with her finger: “get on with it!” it said.


“Right, um...the point! I’m up here because, well, if you couldn’t tell, I’m terrified of talking to this--” and she gestured to the saloon, “many people at once. Um, public speaking is not my strong suit. I hate it. If I had a choice between this and being in an air balloon all by myself...weirdly enough I think I’d pick the lonely balloon ride as the worst thing.


“See, uh, I have to do this. That day, Harvey and I, we faced one of our biggest fears together and...I’m so lucky to have him.”
All eyes turned from Jordan to him. She could see, even through the dark, how embarrassed this was making him. Not to self, Jordan noted, apologize to him later.


But instead, she said: “Harvey, I...I hate the thought of being in that air balloon. I hate it even worse thinking of me being there alone! But I couldn’t think of a braver soul to explore the scary parts with.”


The bar was dead silent with anticipation.


“Will you marry me, and be brave with me for the rest of my life?”


The crowd almost didn’t wait for an answer. There were gasps, surprised whispered, she almost couldn’t hear him.


“Say that again?” she asked, frantically.


Harvey stood up and cupped his hands around his mouth, and he belted, “YES!!”


In one fluid motion, the mic went from Jordan’s hands to Emily’s as she leaped from the bar to the stool to the floor like a stepping stone across a river and practically flew into Harvey’s arms. Camera flashes went off. The lights suddenly came back on as the saloon collectively jumped up from their seats in celebration and cheer, patting their backs, hugging each other, even shedding some happy tears.


She whispered, “Sorry to put you in the spotlight like that.”


Harvey, with his fingers entangled in his fiance’s hair, replied, “It’s okay. It was worth it. You won’t get cold feet at the altar in front of all those people, will you?”


Jordan pecked his cheek, the stubble itching her lips slightly. “Are you kidding? I’ve been practicing in the mirror every morning! Just ask the cows!” He didn’t have to.


He kissed her like they were already there. The way his mustache tickled her upper lip was a memory she’d keep for the rest of her life.