#even if my gifs about the essex serpent haven’t much notes…

[smolvenger]

A Court of Mischief and Purpose Chapter Two (Loki x fem! A Court of Thorns and Roses Hiddlesverse AU)

Series Summary: Sarah J Maas's A Court of Thorns and Roses series is reimagined with Tom Hiddleston's various characters. Especially the events in the second book: A Court of Mist and Fury. You are dying of tuberculosis right before your upcoming wedding to the Lusty Vicar of Aldwinter, Will Ransome. As you lay on what could be your deathbed, the god of mischief Loki appears before you with a deal. He will heal you in time for the wedding...if you spend a week of every month with him. Opening you to a world of more magic and danger than you ever could imagine...

Chapter One

Chapter Summary: You recount the details of the deal only to the lack of belief from your loved ones. On your wedding day, you uncover a letter revealing a shocking and heartbreaking truth about William...

Chapter Warnings: Cheating-Not Loki, But discussing William's canonical actions in The Essex Serpent and portraying them as *checks notes* bad, so Will Ransome fans and Lusty Vicarettes- you have been warned. Reader having bad self-esteem. A bit of fluff but then a LOT of angst. Discussions of sex. We wait for Loki to appear. A cliffhanger.

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85

It took much searching in the library and bookshelves of neighbors, but you found a book of Norse Mythology. Once you did, you asked to speak with Will and your parents alone one evening. You sat the book down on the table before them. You flipped the pages. You found the first page introducing Loki and then pointed to it. You then showed it to the three people at the table- your parents and fiancée.

“That was him! There!” you said.

Your mother put on spectacles to read further and then looked up at you, shaking her head.

“Really, Y/N. The Norse god Loki was who healed you?” she questioned.

“Yes. It was. I am not joking, mama- I am completely serious,” you said.

Your father perked up. When he flipped a page, there was an illustration of the dark-haired trickster god grinning as he petted a few cats.

“I’ve heard very often those dying of tuberculosis have hallucinations…” your father mused.

“I thought he was a vision too! But he-he was tall and lean and had dark hair! He was wearing black and green robes! And he-he looked a little like you, William!”

William looked down at the illustration, his eyes squinted, trying to find the resemblance. But there was a failure to see the resemblance between his curly reddish-blonde hair and Loki’s dark hair. Nothing with Loki’s gaudy grin and William’s serious frown.

“Did you visit her that day? Perhaps she saw you and hallucinated the wrong hair color!” your father asked.

William clenched his jaw.

“No, I did not. I had to take stock of my tithes from the people. Not until after dear Y/N’s miracle.”

You folded your hands on the table.

“If Loki was a vision- then how would that explain why I am already completely better? The doctor didn’t visit me at all that morning, and he gave me no treatments, no medicines! Even if he did-This was quick and sudden!” you cried.

“It’s a miracle from God-you are just misplacing where your faith is,” your mother said.

You then opened your hands to show it to them. A hand flew up to your mother’s mouth- the sight never failed to shock her. Though they had seen it.

“Then explain these!!! How did this happen?!” you argued, exasperated.

They examined it, all looking at the mark and touching it, pulling your hand to examine it carefully.

“Usually, a scar from something like an illness is red…these are jet black! They haven’t come off yet and I’ve washed them fifty times!” you continued.

Your mother sighed through her nose. They dropped your hand. Though Will peeked at the book again, putting a hand to his mouth as he flipped to look at the different pages.

“Y/N…we just find it hard to believe…” your mother said.

You looked at all three of them. You clenched your jaw and your hands rolled up to fists. Hardening your gaze, you spoke:

“I told all of you the truth. And if you believe me or not, that is up to you.”

Your mother reached over and took your hand.

“Sometimes…miracles do occur. And you don’t ask why or how they happened…you learn to accept it…”

Your father began to nod. Will perked up, his eyes glistening. He even smiled, perhaps noting to mention that in a future sermon.

That you could accept.

When you were alone with Will the next day, you both went on a stroll. The luxury of privacy was included with the engagement to marry. With the brown dog barking by your side, both of you walked out to the fields outside the town. It was the first thing you did after you were engaged, and you recalled smiling from the warmth of the coat he draped over your shoulders to guard you against the chill. Despite the grey clouds that day, you paused your steps and looked up at him, opening your hand to show the star mark.

“I must tell you- this is the price I paid. I must go to him. Even after we’re married- you won’t see me for a week every month,” you reported.

“This Norse god?” he asked.

You nodded. It didn’t matter whether or not he believed you. It didn’t matter if he would be forced to send you to a madhouse or keep you in an attic. He of all people had to know his wife wasn’t abandoning him.

“Yes! I will have to be there-one week of every month! Please- I know it’s against the Bible but-lie!” you begged.

“Lie?!”

“My own parents don’t believe me! Say I have a cold! Say I’m visiting your family in the next town! Say I’m out walking! Say I’m doing some ministry work for an orphanage or something! Anything!” you insisted.

He patted your arm, smoothing it to calm you down.

“Of course…of course…”

You wondered how much he believed you. Perhaps he only half believed you. But one detail you had to confide to him. One that would land you in genuine trouble if word got out.

“l I must tell you…he did flirt with me. But…I resisted him. And should he try anything when I’m with him…I’ll fight him off…because I…”

Your eyes blinked, but you broke into a smile. His shoulders lowered.

You then grabbed his hand.

“I love you, Will. I love you. I really do. I’ll do anything for you. And I did this- I did this for you. So, you wouldn’t be alone. So, we could be married! Because I love you and I want to be your wife! It was a sacrifice I made for you-and so I promise, when I’m there, I will ignore him. I will tell him I’m a married woman and shut the door in his face! I’ll box the smug grin off him, too!”

He laughed a little and you laughed despite yourself. Then you smiled up at him and gave him a hug. He smelled the grass. He put a hand on your back to rub it lightly. Then he released the hug, taking both of your hands. How large his hands were! How many of your fingers could make up his mere thumb! How comforting!

“I love you too, Y/N. I am only glad you are well and that we can be married.”

As you both walked off, you changed the topic.

 “How is the search for the Serpent?”

Bodies appeared in the grass. Some claimed a giant, magical snake was on the loose. Many said prayers and kept indoors at night. William told you he wanted to consecrate it. Mrs. Seaborne wanted scientific research. They teamed up to find the creature.

 But things were quiet. As if it never happened. Some seemed to whisper about it and then ignore it to go about their lives. But the looking continued.

“Oh, very well! Tracks were found!” he recalled.

“Oh, good! You and Mrs. Seaborne make quite a team! You will be careful, should you see something, William- please! I don’t want you hurt!”

“I always am careful, my dear…the tithing will be soon. The town will come to me to give me their yearly dues and I must count them next week. You shall be there, shall you?” he asked. His curls flew in the wind.

“Yes, I shall. I am ready for those duties already. I am ready to be your wife,” you smiled as you wrapped an arm around his.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Weeks went by. Now it wasn’t just the Serpent that seemed to be only a dream. It was Loki. Perhaps you did hallucinate him. Perhaps the sickness was only a bad dream.

But one thing was a reality-your wedding to William.

Before you knew it, the day of the wedding arrived. It was a bright spring day. The sun beat down. Flowers grew and bees hummed. It felt a little warm and you noticed some flowers beginning to wilt in the vase at home. You shrugged it off- there would be new flowers in your new home where he lived.

Everyone gathered at the church for preparations. Your bridesmaids fluttered around you like pastel bubbles in their dresses of various colors. They gathered around to help you adjust your wedding corset to how you liked and fixed your hair.

Stepping into your special dress- white lace with a bustle- everyone cooed and admired you. You always thought it was pretty. Decorative and special- as a wedding should be. It had a high color buttoned up with a cloth blossom and long sleeves down to your wrists. You put on lace gloves to hide the stars.

One bridesmaid handed you a bouquet.

“I added the blue violets- those are for faithfulness! Oh! And an orange blossom! That’s for you two to have many children!

All of you began to laugh a little bit. Then your mother and Williams’ own mother stepped in, admiring all of you. Though you stood out like a drop of snow. Your mother gasped and went to hug you.

“Oh, how beautiful you look!” your mother cooed.

“Yes- won’t he be beside himself!” cried Mrs. Ransome.

“And speaking of many children…Y/N…we’ve discussed this…some, but…I have to tell you.”

She looked at the bridesmaids too, perhaps thinking of this as an extended lecture. They kept their eyes forward, but their lips were sealed tight.

She held both of your hands.

“You know what…happens between a husband and wife, Y/N,” she began.

“Yes, I do. You told me…specifics…” you nodded.

“I must tell you…it is never pleasant for the woman. But you have a duty to fulfill to your husband. It hurts the first time, and it is awkward and uncomfortable every time after…but you shall do it. William expects you to do it.”

You noticed Stella’s eyes widen. She blinked and seemed to soften her posture amid all the discomfort of the bridesmaids. Warning them of when it would be their turn to perform their own duties to their husbands. But out of all of them…Stella did not seem afraid.

“No- my worst fear would be to let him down! I shall do it, mama, I promise!” you insisted.

“Very good.”

Your mother kissed the top of your head. Several bridesmaids shivered and then went out to distract themselves and see to their own preparations.  You swallowed hard in your own fear, looking down at the bouquet in your hands.

Stella ran to you, like a butterfly in her light blue bridesmaid dress. She touched your shoulder.

“Your wedding night shall all turn out well, Y/N! Don’t worry!” she consoled.

“You heard mama…it’s not going to be pleasant…” you mused.

Stella turned around to make sure no one overheard and then leaned back to you whispering.

“I heard from some of the Fishermen’s wives. I was talking to them by the ocean. And they said…they said…the act is actually nice!”

“What- nice? The marital act?!” you gasped.

Stella smiled a radiant smile that could have made a king beg for her.

“Yes- the marital act! I don’t know myself, but they said they loved doing it! That it was pleasant for them! That they wanted to do it with their husbands! And then listed all the men they wish they could do it too!”

She turned bright pink and leaned closer, softening her voice.

“And do you know who they put on their list?”

“Who? Wait…no! They didn’t say…” You began to stifle laughter.

“I’m not! They listed Will! I heard them! I kept blushing but I couldn’t help but listen! They talked about how every Sunday they wished they could sin with him!”

“Stella!”

“Their words! Not mine! See-you’re the luckiest, happiest woman in all England today! So don’t worry-it’s probably nicer than you think it is!” she continued.

“I’m still nervous thinking about it!” you confided.

“Think of it this way- you might be like those women and want it from him instead of him wanting it of you! I! So don’t worry so much! You shall be fine! You can tell me all about it later!”

She gave you a hug and you hugged back. How soft she felt-she always knew people so well that she could say the right things. Then her mother appeared at the door and asked for her. She gave you a grin and then walked away.

You were left alone. And there was time before the ceremony- your last minutes as a single woman.

 You walked out of the room. Down the hall. You overheard the church organ practicing the music. The wind rustled and the sun burst through little windows. You smelled musk and old wine down here.

Today, the door for William’s office was creaked open. Glad for a moment alone, you tiptoed in there with your skirt swishing behind you. That space you would have to become far more acquainted with later. You were rarely in there and only then you were accompanied. You had forgotten what it looked like.

It was a plain room. Not too decorative- only packed bookshelves and illustrations of Jesus on the wall.

But turning, you saw a letter on the desk. You walked closer to read it. Will’s handwriting- of course, you knew it. It was dated today! Curiosity and delight rippled in you from the opening line.

“To my most beloved woman…” it began.

Oh! A love letter? On your wedding day?! How romantic! You thought. You kept reading.

“I dream of you night and day. I think only how I wish to see you. I have so much I’ve written, yet I couldn’t get the words. How I wish you never catch me staring right at you as you go about. And how I ache and long for you…”

You began to giggle despite yourself. Oh- dearest man! He was always so calm around others! Now to see him this vulnerable and sentimental! You smiled brightly.

“You are truly not like other women!”

That was an odd compliment. You felt a lump in your throat. Sometimes men said things that, though well-intentioned, were not completely thought out. Was there something…wrong with the other women? You decided to ignore it and keep reading.

“You are the one thing I long for. And you haunt and torment me so much, darling…”

You placed the letter on your heart, giving it a kiss, then read on.

“And now, the day of my wedding to Miss Y/N approaches…The day I grow from fiancée to husband. Oh, to see her dying!”

You paused. You reread it.

Her. Not you. Her. Should it be “Oh, to see you dying?” He was educated in seminary but couldn’t get the tense of his letter, right? How did his professors grade him?! Why did he do that? Was he trying to be like an author with a novel?

“How tormented I am! But my heart will long for you since the day I kissed you and danced with you, but remember…I will never stop seeing you. And I shall always be there, my sweet Cora.”

Your smile dropped. Your heart picked up. You began to read it. Then re-read it. Then read it again to make sure you were not making it up. That you read what you read.

This is a love letter…to Cora Seaborne…but I…I am his fiancée…I’m about to be his wife…so that means…that means…

You tasted bile in your mouth. You felt yourself blink and the room became dizzy. Everything spun except for the letter. You caught yourself on the chair. The letter fell from your shaking hand and you picked it up. You re-read the date- today. This morning. He was going to send it to her this morning.

Then you noticed a box under his desk. It was left open. And there were papers- papers with writing. You grabbed it and found your worst fear was true. They were letters. Letters from Cora. Love letters from Cora. All dated very recently. Beginning from the time she arrived after your betrothal.

You caught onto the chair for support. You wanted to retch onto the carpet. You wanted to faint. You wanted…wanted to run. But you couldn’t take a step. You set down the letters, back in their places. Then you caught the chair, clinging to it.

No….no, I thought…I thought he…he said he loved me…he said he was mine…said he adored me…he said. He said…

There was a knock on the door that made you jump. You put the box down where you left it. In was Mrs. Ransome.

“Ah! Y/N! There you are! We were worried you might have run away!”

You felt your jaw clench and you looked at them, quietly. She dragged you away back to the rooms where they got dressed. Though now bridesmaids and every one of your mothers was filling it up. They all began talking.

“Here- let me give you some reminders! Of course, you understand what it means to be a vicar’s wife. The immense responsibility it carries. For now, the women shall all look to you as an example and it’s one you must set!” Your mother advised.

They began to touch up your veil and dress as they spoke to you. But you passively stood, letting them talk to you. Trying to hear the words. They did not make you feel any better with distraction.

“Make sure you always sit in the front row of church every Sunday. You must always watch your words and your behavior. We know you’re a good woman and suited to this- but you must be careful now! A wrong step or word and his image and ministry are in ruin!” Mrs. Ransome advised.

“Support him no matter what and support his ministry, Y/N. Support him in his emotions without complaint. Encourage his advancements as you keep the balance between his home and family. Keep the house peaceful. Do not do anything to upset him or disturb him or the town. Be humble, Y/N, appreciating everything and demanding very little…” your mother began to speak.

So much work. So much sacrifice. So much…for nothing.

“And should you have children- you will raise them perfectly. You will make sure they do nothing that shall turn anyone against him and his ministry,” another woman advised you.

Yes, children. To lay in his bed. To do the act. Your duty. Knowing the truth. Knowing who it was he would rather do it to. Coming to him with a heart filled with love and adoration…thrown to waste.

“And do not yourself give into sins of greed, bad temperament, or jealousy!”

Jealousy, jealousy. I am a good person. I am not jealous, I am not jealous, I am not jealous of her, I’m not. I’m not. I’m good, I swear, I’m good you thought. All lies. You knew.

“And you shall always pray for his strength to overcome temptation and for him to flourish, shall you, Y/N?”

Yes. You always shall. You always did pray. But the wrong prayers. You should have prayed for his avoidance of temptation. Of his adherence to all the Ten Commandments, like the Seventh one.

And here you were about to marry a man who could not follow his own instruction. He was praised for being open-minded. Now not even that sin bothered him anymore.

The Lusty Vicar indeed.

“Could I…could I speak to Will? Before the wedding? Please…” you babbled out. But you only had half your voice.

The women all shook their heads.

“No! It’s bad luck! And it’s about to begin very shortly!” your mother refused.

Is this who you were going to marry? Who was this man? Was he a madman? Was this Will? The Will you agreed to marry? The Will of your dreams who you looked so forward to? The handsome Will? The Will who gave you his coat? The Will who said he loved you? The Will you loved?

They dragged you up before the doors of the church. You began to nervously fidget with the bouquet. Everyone got into the line in their places to enter. You broke off and turned to Stella.

“I…I have to…have to talk to you…” you began.

“Oh no- what is it? Are you nervous? Every bride is!” she smiled.

You shook your head. You felt yourself shaking, wishing you didn’t have to believe the words struggling to come out.

“It’s not that…Stella…I…I f-f-found…I found, uh-I found-uhm…”

“What did you find?” she asked.

In answer, there was loud music at the beginning of the ceremony. Her mother pushed Stella to be in place by a groomsman.

The music- so loud it could have rattled your bones and made your ears bleed-began. Then off they went. You were pushed to stand by your father.

“Oh, what a lovely day! And you look beautiful as an angel, Y/N!” he assured you.

One by one they filed. Out they went. Then it was your turn.

The white walls, wooden beams, and humble wooden chandeliers once comforted you every Sunday. The candles from the ceiling hung over you like vultures. The two rectangular windows next to each other high above the wall behind the altar watched you like the eye of a god waiting for you as the sacrifice on the altar. No number of flowers could make up for it.

People stood up and smiled. You took a few steps forward.

You glanced back at the congregation.  People were smiling at you like you were something wanted and valued. Something to be treasured. When you were really a joke. A laughingstock. They were going to all laugh at you any second.

 You saw plenty of women in the crowd. Other women. Other women.

It was Cora who was the special one. And you who were the “other women.” The “less than” women. The “not good” women.

Your dress was hot. It felt heavy against your skin. It was itchy against you. What on earth were you thinking picking this dress?!  Once you adored and squealed and twirled it childishly in your house. Once you loved it. But now you hated it. Everything in how it felt against you like it was trapping to stifle you. The flowers In your bouquet trembled. You then saw none other than Cora herself there. her maid holding her three-year-old son. A son from her first marriage with her late husband. A marriage that was so horrible, that even after the man's death... that she robbed you of yours. It was like she opened the door for a burglar to sneak inside and shoot you. The third person in this marriage. The real beloved of Will all this time. She knew your existence and commitment and promises to William…and it didn’t stop her. She never stopped to think this would hurt you. Maybe she didn’t care. Though you were the one in white compared to her in her grey coat- she was the one crowned best of women from the one you loved most. The one you sacrificed so much for-would sacrifice so much for. You turned and saw him at the altar. Will. Resplendent in his tuxedo as always. The tuxedo you swooned over- once. His beard was trimmed for today. He was smiling. Like he was all yours.

But you knew the truth.

You found your steps slowing down so that your feet dragged against the church floors.

But then you felt every eye on you. Every eye and that included…you turned, glancing at her. Cora.

And you would never be good enough for him.

Your stomach heaved. You stared down at the floor.  You were going to become sick and vomit there in the church in front of everyone. Tears welled up and you felt them pouring out of you.

You stopped your steps.

Your father nudged you, urging you to go. You refused. He tried to pull you and you jerked away. Tearing yourself free from his arm. But you kept your eyes on the floor before you. You couldn’t take another step.

You were going to fall apart right there in front of everyone. They expected a smiling, beautiful bride flouncing her way up. But that was not the image you could give them. You did not feel beautiful. You felt disgusting and hideous. If you burst into tears right, there-they would know. They would know and they would all laugh at you.

You saw the sun in the high window above the altar start to fade. Though it became cooler you wondered which would get you first-being boiled alive in your wedding gown or becoming sick.

William took a step forward; he offered up his hand.

“Y/N…” he said.

He took another step forward and on instinct, you retreated. The congregation murmured. His blue eyes widened. If you ran out of the church right now, there would be scandal and ruin. If you walked up to the altar, you would spend the rest of your days living a lie.

Help me-someone please help me. I can’t go through with this. I cannot do this. Someone, please help me, get me out of here you begged silently.

There was a crash of thunder. Out of nowhere for a bright, sunny day. The church darkened as candles blew out. People screamed- you screamed from the scare. Then they went up again and there was a wind-flower petals and ribbons flew with it, a few falling apart. People began to panic a little in their seats. A couple cried “The Serpent!” and “God protect us!”

The door flung open. Only a few candles in the church relit themselves against the dark sky.

When you turned around to see, you stopped at the sight.

 Loki, smiling and adjusting a tuxedo with a frilly white blouse, was there at the doors.

“Hello, Y/N darling,” he purred.

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