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Is this love big enough to watch over me?
Big enough to let go of me?
Without hurting me
Like the day I learned to swim
- ‘The Fog’, Kate Bush
Stede kept the ring buried in a plant pot.
It wasn’t ideal storage conditions for fine jewellery, but there was nowhere else he could hide it properly from Ed. He got nervous every time Ed watered the Maranta plant in the bedroom, checking afterwards to make sure the ring hadn’t emerged to the surface. He had just caught the glint of gold in the soil this morning, quickly pushing it down with his finger until it was safely buried again.
It was an old piece of family jewellery, one of the only things from that life that he’d brought with him. He’d never given it to Mary - thank God - she had chosen her own ring, a simple band of white gold that suited her understated style. But this ring, with its large amethyst set amongst twisting gold leaves, was meant to be Ed’s.
He’d known that from the moment the thought first occurred to him, when he was leaving Barbados for the last time. He had seen the ring sitting in his jewellery box, the purple stone a deep, rich colour, beautifully faceted to reflect the light. He could imagine how it would look, glittering on Ed’s hand, the warm gold against his brown skin, a piece of his love for Ed to carry with him always.
Choosing the right moment to express his love directly was proving much more difficult than choosing the ring itself. ‘Merperson Inn’ had been open for a few months now, with a steady stream of guests throughout the season. That had kept them busy enough, and now that the wet season was fast approaching they were busy again preparing for the inevitable storms.
There were so many jobs to do that they were too tired to do anything but sleep lately collapsing exhausted into bed at night. Occasionally, when they had the energy left at the end of a long day fixing the roof, or mending the fence, or digging the garden, they would sit on the porch as the sun went down, sharing a bottle of rum between them.
One recent, balmy night, they had sat in comfortable silence, watching a flock of birds moving in formation across the sky. The rum was better than the usual stuff they got from the local market, a gift from The Revenge crew on their last visit.
Stede watched Ed out of the corner of his eye. The light was playing in his hair, reflecting off the silver until it shone like burnished copper. His eyes were crinkled, squinting into the sunset, until they turned to meet his gaze and softened. Stede felt like he could drown in those eyes, sometimes felt like he was, sinking down into the depths to meet his fate, content to be obliterated by Ed’s loving gaze. Was now the time? Should he finally tell Ed the words he’d been holding in his heart since he first realised how much he loved him? Stede thought about the ring, sitting in the plant pot. He could make an excuse, say he needed the bathroom, go and get it now and then…
Ed cleared his throat.
“Y’know, I’ve been thinking some more about what we should plant next spring -“
And just like that, the moment was gone.
—
Ed felt the tension between them recently, during quiet moments. He could see Stede hesitating, collecting himself to say something significant. Ed wanted to hear those words. He wanted to hear them with a hunger that frightened him in its ferocity. But there was the old fear there too. The fear that he wasn’t worthy, that he didn’t deserve it, that one day Stede would see the lack at the heart of him.
He could admit that ego also played a small part. Stede had done this before, this game of betrothal - now it was Ed’s turn. Hadn’t he been the one to make the grand gesture, before? He had laid it all on the line, at the docks, and had his heart broken for his trouble. They had moved past that now, knew that they would never willingly leave each other again, but still, Ed wanted his grand gesture.
So he waited, and he watched.
—
The day was unusually still. The wind was normally whipping through the forest surrounding the beach at this time of year, the weathervane on the roof of the inn spinning. But today it was still.
Stede was full of nervous energy, pacing through the rooms of the inn in an aimless, directionless frenzy. Ed watched him readjust the framed mirror in the hallway for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Stede”
“Hmm?” He replied in a distracted voice.
“Why don’t you go for a run, babe? You’re making me crazy with that shit.”
“What shit? I’m not doing anything!” Stede sounded genuinely mystified.
“Yeah, that’s the problem - you need to go out, get some of that energy out of your system.” Ed gestured to the beach through the window.
Stede could see his point. He always got like this when he spent too long cooped up.
“You’re right, darling. I’ll see you later.” Stede stopped to press a kiss to Ed’s head on his way out of the door.
Ed watched him go fondly, admiring his the way his lean body moved, the muscles under his clothes. He settled back in his chair, suddenly feeling tired, eyelids heavy. He let the feeling wash over him, allowing sleep to pull him under.
He dreamt about playing in the surf, his mother watching him from the beach. The white sand stretched to the horizon, the blue water glittering under the sun. He was laughing, only a child then, no more than 4 or 5 years old. He let the waves lift him, raising his body up and dropping it back down, splashing joyfully back to the sand. He remembered how it felt, the water underneath him, around him, warm against his skin, salt in his mouth.
He remembered the feeling of surrender, when he first allowed the sea to support him, to carry his body fully, feet raised and legs kicking. It was frightening, to let go, to trust the water, but in yielding was its own reward. He felt the joy of it, the freedom, safe in the arms of the ocean.
“Ed!”
Someone was calling him, from far away.
“Ed!”
It was Stede’s voice, the urgent sound of it bringing him back to consciousness in a sudden jolt.
Ed opened his eyes, body immediately tense. He pushed up out of the chair and dashed to the door. A thick fog had settled across the beach from inland, the clouds hovering over the water as far as he could see. The air was damp and thick in his lungs.
“Ed! Can you hear me?”
Stede was calling him, from somewhere out in the midst of it.
“I’m here!” Ed called, “I’m coming!”
Ed hurried back inside to grab a lantern.
—
Stede was lost. Not so lost that he was particularly frightened, but lost enough that he wasn’t sure how to get back. His run had taken him far along the beach, and the low clouds had rolled in with a speed that had taken him by surprise. Now he could barely see two feet in front of him, the whole world reduced to grey mist and the sound of his own breath in his ears.
He wandered for a time, following along the water’s edge, before finally admitting defeat and calling out to Ed. Hopefully he would hear him. Stede didn’t fancy his chances of finding his way home without help.
He’d been calling for a good few minutes before he heard a response. Time seemed to drag out there in the fog, without anything to mark it. Stede felt like he could have been waiting hours, or even years, when he first saw the warm glow of the light waving towards him.
Ed’s body solidified out of the mists, his long limbs, his black clothes, his flowing hair, his strong tattooed arm holding the lantern aloft. Stede saw him approach and it felt like the first time, when he had first seen him in smoke and flames aboard a Spanish ship, appearing to him like a vision of strength and beauty and hope. He’d been gasping for his breath then, and he felt the sensation return, sinking to his knees in the wet sand, reeling.
“Ed.”
“Stede?” Ed sounded panicked, “are you ok? Are you hurt?”
Stede shook his head, eyes fixed on Ed’s.
“No, I’m not hurt. I -“
Stede swallowed.
All the words he wanted to say crowded his mind.
“Every day with you feels like a gift, each more precious than the last.”
“I always dreamt I would marry for love, but I never dreamt that I would find a love like ours, that I would find you.”
“I know our names are already written on each others’ hearts, but I want to write them together in front of the world as well -“
But the words caught in his throat. He realised with a startling clarity that they didn’t matter. The words, the ring - still sat in the plant pot back at the inn - none of it mattered. Ed, here in front of him, beautiful and fierce and soft and strong, was what mattered.
Stede reached out a shaking hand, grasping Ed’s cold fingers where they dangled by his side.
“Will you marry me?”
Ed stood frozen, his eyes wide. The moment was here, at last, but the fear was there too. The water lapped around his feet, calling him to give in, to surrender.
He took the leap of faith, dropped to his knees in the sand.
“Yes.”
He cupped Stede’s face in front of him, fingers rubbing through the blond stubble, feeling the wet tears running down.
“I will.”
—
Ed and Stede stood on the porch of the inn, the sea behind them. Stede wore a soft silk shirt, the frills contrasting nicely with his firmly muscled chest. Ed wore a flowing dress trimmed with lace and embroidered with flowers, so beautiful that he had rendered Stede speechless when he first appeared in it.
It was just them, in the end. They would have a party later, another time, when The Revenge was back in port and the crew could celebrate with them. But for this part - the part where they spoke the words, made the promises, shed the tears - that was just for them.
Stede slipped the ring onto Ed’s finger.
THE END