The Healer Pt. 07

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A Coral Blackthorn tale.
5.8k words
4.77
6.4k
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Part 7 of the 13 part series

Updated 06/09/2023
Created 09/09/2018
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AfterDusk
AfterDusk
503 Followers

A note from After Dusk:

I just wanted to mention that this entire story is by no means what I'd consider a final draft; I've been playing around recently with the idea of showing the same scenes from different perspectives (as I did with the last part). Coming up soon there will be situations that happen in which the characters are not together, so it will be necessary for me to jump around a bit. By the time I am finished, I might go back to the beginning and add alternative views on sections...still pondering over it. Generally it takes me a few years to polish something to the point of considering it finished.

Thanks for your patience.

AD

*****

As she is pulling on a fresh shift, Coral catches a glimpse of her naked body in the mirror. She frowns disapprovingly, running her hand up her soft rear, across her hip to her plush belly. She catches Quell's reflection looking upon her adoringly.

"What is wrong, my love?" His hands creep across her hips, pulling her naked body to his as her shift falls to the ground.

She sighs, "I'm not used to this sedentary life style, Quell. I'm afraid I'm getting plump."

He laughs, bending over to kiss her, "Nonsense, Coral. You are just as beautiful as the day I met you."

She smiles at him, knowing that he would love her no matter how much weight she gained, "Still, I feel that the lack of vigor in my day has increased my indolence. Perhaps I will take a walk to Severton today—I am in need of more mint for the elixir, I've barely been able to keep up with demand. Would you like to come?"

He caresses her cheek, picking up her shift and dressing her, "I would love to but father wants Wistan and I to listen to matters of complaint today."

"Hmm," she ponders, "perhaps I will ask Lynette. She always appreciates a good walk."

"Ha," he chuckles, leaving her side to get dressed as well, "if you wish her to come you will have to invite Vadim—she hasn't left his side for more than an hour since they mated. It is to be expected, though a little arduous lately. He and I were supposed to practice combat training yesterday but Vadim had a hard time focusing since she tagged along."

Coral draws in a deep breath—she has been avoiding Vadim since he claimed his mate several weeks ago and for good reason; she finds that it is difficult to be around him without the ache of sadness hitting her. She knows it is unwarranted, as she is happy in her life with Quell and happy for him and Lynette, but deep down, locked away, she still cares for him. Having to suffer the afternoon in Severton with Lynette fawning over Vadim would no doubt dredge up painful memories of her first trip there. Though she has spent time with Lynette and enjoyed her company when harvesting plants in the woods near town, it occurs to her that they are never gone from the castle for more than a couple of hours before Lynette finds an excuse to return.

"Perhaps I will ask Margaret. I do not think that she has anything to do today and it would be nice to have some human company for a while."

Quell nods, "Yes, that sounds like a good idea though I worry about two women walking alone. With the disappearances in Centurion it makes me uneasy for you to leave town unaccompanied. Why don't I have Junta go with you?"

Coral remembers the way that Tomir looked at Margaret, "Actually, if you don't think Tomir is busy today..."

He raises a brow at her while she puts on a dress, "Do you not like Junta?"

She laughs, "No, Junta is a fine centaur, even if he is a bit grumpy. Margaret still hasn't warmed up to centaurs yet and Tomir is much friendlier. I am hoping that his easy going attitude will change her opinion."

"All right my love. I believe Tomir is on guard duty until midmorning though."

"That is fine, I have some things to take care of at the apothecary, so have him meet me there."

Breakfast is brief; Coral ignores much of the usual banter, instead trying to come up with a way to change Margaret's mind about centaurs. When she takes a bite of an apple, she is surprised to discover that it tastes appalling—it makes her nauseous. She must have made a disgusted face because Vadim's voice breaks into her thoughts.

"Whatever is the matter, sister?" He smiles up at her, his eyes appraising her.

She shakes her head, "I am not sure, my apple tastes a bit odd." She quickly turns her gaze away from him.

Curious, he leans across the table and plucks a slice from her plate; popping it into his mouth, he chews carefully, "I think it tastes fine Coral. Maybe what you ate before it changed the flavor?"

"Yes," she says, placing her half eaten slice down to grab her water glass, "perhaps that is it."

...

Not long after she enters the apothecary with a box of dried herbs, Margaret comes down the stairs, "Good morning Coral."

"Good morning Margaret—are you busy today? I am going to go to Severton to harvest some herbs if you'd like to come along?"

She thinks on it for a moment before nodding, "Yes, that sounds like a grand idea. I've heard much about Severton—it is an all human town, is it not?"

"Indeed," she replies, sitting on a stool behind the counter. Margaret helps her sort through the packages of herbs, transferring the contents to refill the large jars around the shop. They work in tandem silently, having found that neither of them is bothered by the lack of conversation. When they are almost finished, Margaret surprises Coral.

"I have heard some of the women speak of your elixir—is it true that there is no pain?"

She glances up at the woman, "Yes. It makes the entire experience rather pleasurable in fact."

Margaret frowns, "I just don't think I could ever...I mean, they're half beast. It is just wrong."

Coral lets the silence hang for a moment. She has been trying her best to be patient with Margaret since their arrival, but it has been a bit daunting of a task to get the maiden to shed her hatred of the centaurs. She knows that she must try—if she cannot convince one woman to change her mind, there is no way she will be able to convince several during the next Atonement. "It isn't like one is mating a horse, Margaret. I know it is hard to look at them in any other way than as half a beast, but if you allowed yourself to get to know them, to see them beyond their physical appearance—"

She shakes her head, "You surprise me, Coral. Your father was killed by a centaur during the Battle—they came into our town and took us against our wishes. Whatever they want, they take."

"Honestly, Margaret, it wasn't against my wishes. If I had stayed, I would have been forced to marry Tobias and that is not something I wanted-that would have been against my wishes. How quickly you forget—just like everyone else—that the humans started the Battle. We tried to wipe them out. It was well within their power to exterminate people from existence yet they accepted our surrender. They take during the Atonement because it is exactly that—reparations for the atrocity that our fathers brought onto themselves. In fact, the entire reason why the Battle happened in the first place is because people, much like you, are incapable of seeing beyond someone's physical appearance to who they are on the inside—it is a very unbecoming quality." As soon as she lashes out at the woman, she regrets her actions. She is frustrated, not only with Margaret but also with herself—by chastising her, it could very well make their conversation into an argument.

Instead of snapping back, Margaret sits in silence, chewing over Coral's words. Before they can speak any further on it, the door opens.

"Good morning, Lady Coral," Tomir's cheery voice interrupts them; when his eyes fall on Margaret, he straightens up a little, "Good morning maiden."

Margaret glances at him uneasily before looking at Coral.

"Tomir is accompanying us on our journey to Severton—to ensure that we remain safe," she says, barely looking st the woman as she grabs her bag, "That is, if you would still like to go."

Margaret pauses in her movements, hesitating. Coral heads to the door and is surprised but relieved that Margaret follows her.

Tomir walks beside them but after they leave town on the road to Severton it is clear that he feels he is an imposition to their conversation so he drops behind them several yards. When the wind shifts against their backs and they know he can no longer hear them, Margaret feels comfortable enough to strike up conversation again.

"How come we are not riding to Severton?"

Coral sighs, "I've put on some weight now that I'm basically sitting around doing nothing. A walk will do me some good."

"Oh," she says nodding slowly, "I don't mind the exercise either. I do feel that life has been a little sluggish now that I'm not chasing my brothers and sisters around."

With the argument between them forgotten, Margaret shares what news of gossip she has heard around town. Coral listens earnestly, interested in the on goings that she is no longer privy to as a distraction from her growing stomachache. When Margaret sees her rubbing the side of her belly, she gives Coral an odd look.

Shaking her head, she says, "I think I need to lay off of the mead. I haven't been feeling right all week. I have half been wondering if I've started coming down with something—I threw up yesterday and this morning my food tasted off."

Eyeing her for a moment, she turns her gaze forward. She is silent until the breeze picks up again, brisk against their backs, "Every time my mother was pregnant, she would rub her belly like that when it ached. She always got the morning sickness rather early on, about a month after she conceived."

Coral stops dead in her tracks. Margaret loops her hand under her companion's arm, keeping her walking so that their guardian doesn't suspect anything.

"No, but—it can't—" she manages to stammer out.

"It has been a little over a month since we've arrived, Coral. It was only a few days after that, that you took your mate," her voice is quiet. "How long since you've bled?"

Shaking her head, Coral tries to think, only to realize that she hasn't since she arrived in Centuarna. When she feels the anxiety start to well up in her stomach she starts drawing in deep breaths.

"I am sure he will be happy," Margaret says, though from the tone of her voice it is clear she doesn't approve.

"He...doesn't want them," Coral whispers.

"Well if he didn't want them, then he should have left you alone," she mutters.

"It's just as much my fault as his," Coral says, her mind swirling as the panic starts to swell, "I initiated most of it."

"Coral!" Margaret says wide eyed.

Still in shock, she is not embarrassed, "It really is enjoyable." They walk on in silence, the town now in view. Hearing Tomir start to catch up with them, Coral asks, "Please—do not tell anyone, Margaret."

The maiden nods without hesitation.

When they make their way through the small town to the bridge beyond Coral asks Tomir to unpack their lunch while she and Margaret harvest the mints. She notices the Margaret glancing at the centaur repeatedly; Tomir has pulled his cloak off, spreading it onto the ground so that the women can sit upon it while they eat. Sitting beside it, he takes great care in arranging the food for them. When he catches Margaret's eye, he gives her a kind smile.

Margaret quickly looks away, taking the opportunity to harvest some mint further down the bank so that she can turn her back to the centaur. She sees Coral eyeing her.

"Why does he...act that way?" Margaret asks.

"What way?"

Shaking her head, "I don't know, he is just behaving...well, odd. For a centaur."

Coral pops a few mint leaves into her mouth, hoping that they help with the nausea, "He likes you, Margaret."

"What!" She almost shrieks; getting a hold of herself, she lowers her voice and repeats it, "What!"

Coral stands, rolling her eyes, "Margaret—look, I know that before the Atonement none of the men had any intentions of making you any offers."

"I—I don't see what that has to do with this," she stammers.

"Had any been smart enough to be interested in you, you would be able to recognize the behaviors that Tomir is exhibiting. Ever since he laid eyes on you, he has made it a point to have his path cross yours, daily. It never occurred to you that there was a reason?"

"I just assumed that since he lived in town—"

"It is a big town, Margaret. He doesn't live anywhere near the apothecary or have any need to go to the shops around it and he spends most of his time working in the castle."

Her face starts to burn red, a look of mild disgust forming. When she opens her mouth to speak, Coral cuts her off.

"It doesn't matter—you will be forced into nothing. He is a respectable centaur and even if you don't believe there is a chance that you would choose him as your mate, there is no reason to be cruel about it. You must keep in mind that you are a part of Centuarna now—at least for the next eleven months. There is absolutely nothing wrong with being polite and civil during that time and it would do you some good to have a few friends, regardless of what species they are. So, this will be the last I say about it to you—be nice to him. Do not judge him because of his appearance. Maybe if you actually made an effort to strike up a conversation, you would realize that he is a good man." With her arms loaded down by mint, Coral leaves the maiden to ponder her words.

After packing her basket with herbs, she takes the seat next to Tomir. He glances at her for a moment before his eyes return to Margaret, "She does not like us."

"She is having a hard time adjusting to her new life," Coral confesses, nibbling on some bread.

"What can I do?" Tomir looks at her again, eager to help.

"Be patient with her."

Margaret joins them before much longer, sitting across from Tomir. He hands her some bread, a kind smile on his face.

"Thank you," she reluctantly admits. They eat in relative silence before Margaret speaks again, "I have discovered that there isn't much to do in the evenings," she glances up to Tomir before averting her gaze again, "where I used to live, we would gather in the tavern after supper as something to do for entertainment. Is there a place like that in Centuarna?"

Tomir considers her words carefully as he cuts up some cheese for them to share, "Yes, there are several such places in town. I am surprised Janis didn't take you to one—the midwives always go after a successful birth."

Margaret's shoulders seem to slump a little when she realizes that she was left out, "Oh, well, I...I don't know them very well yet, so perhaps..."

"I would be happy to point them out to you when we get back to town," he says earnestly. Seeing that she is still upset, he adds, "Or, if you would like to accompany me tonight, there is going to be a bard performing at the tavern near my home." She looks up at him, wide eyed. He speaks calmly to ease her assumptions, "I meant nothing by it, I was simply offering if you want. You are welcome to bring friends with you."

Both of them glance at Coral, using her as a mediator. She is staring off into the distance, lost in her own thoughts but realizes they are now waiting on her. She looks between the pair, slowly chewing her food while she tries to focus on the conversation, "That sounds like fun. Quell and I will meet you there. Perhaps Tomir can meet you at the apothecary after supper—to show you the way."

The tables turned on Margaret, she nods, keeping her gaze down, "Yes, after supper. At the apothecary."

They walk back in silence. Tomir leads the way, though his presence isn't the reason for the lack of conversation. Margaret is nervous, her mind spinning as she struggles with the prejudice of her upbringing. However, Coral is also nervous; she is worried about how Quell will react to her unintended pregnancy.

Tomir bids them farewell when they reach the apothecary; as he walks away, there is an obvious bounce to his step. Before she can leave, Coral's arm is caught by Margaret, "You will be there tonight, right?" She is clearly worried.

"Of course I will be there," she calms her down. Upon thinking about it, she digs around in her bag before placing a small vial in Margaret's hand. When the maiden sees it, she tries to give it back.

"No, I don't—"

Coral refuses it, "I am not saying that you will ever have a cause to use it, nor am I forcing you to. I am simply giving it to you as a friend—just in case. There is no pressure." She turns and starts to walk away but she halts, smirking over her shoulder, "If you are curious, it can be used without a partner." She can't help but laugh as Margaret's cheeks turn red.

As it is still early in the afternoon, Coral heads directly to the surgery. She is greeted by Pelium.

"More mint, I see?" He says with a smile, offering her a cup of tea.

"Yes," she replies, off loading her bag onto the table before taking the cup, "I speculate this will be the last time I am able to harvest it now that winter is approaching," she sips the glass, "I am not quite sure how to tell the ladies to ration it."

He laughs heartily, "I imagine it is the men you might have to tell—I've heard that once they've tried it, it, err, well, gives them a hearty appetite."

Her face turns red but she forces a laugh none the less, "I suppose we must do our best to get our own mint plants growing this winter. Perhaps I will have a chat with the gardener, to see if he has any suggestions on keeping them alive indoors?"

Pelium nods, returning to his work, "Indeed."

The past month, Coral has brewed a lot of the elixir. Though she is only in the apothecary three times a week, she gets several new women asking about it each day; after her initial successful trials, Rainer gave her the freedom to dole it out as she saw fit. It has never been officially announced or talked about by the royal family but even just through word of mouth amongst the women and male centaurs she figures there are close to a hundred mated pairs now using the elixir; in fact, she has even seen a few of them return for more.

She spends several hours brewing a large batch of the elixir, close to five gallons. It might seem excessive but as it calls for fresh mints to be steeped in it, she calculates the quantity around the product she has on hand, though she is curious as to if the decoction will lose any potency if not used right away. Deciding it is worth knowing, she pours six small vials and writes the date on them, with the intention of trying them on a monthly basis so that she can determine the effectiveness.

Coral makes short work of storing the large bottles in the small locked room at the back of the surgery; though it was originally where all of the medicines were kept, Pelium now only stores the more dangerous ones there, on the off chance that someone decide to do something unsavory. Worn out from both her walk and her work, she slumps into her desk chair. With her mind no longer occupied, her thoughts are drawn back to her growing stomach.

Grabbing the first book on her desk, she flips through it to appear as if she is occupied while her thoughts race; how will she tell Quell? How will he take the news? He was so upset with her when he discovered she was attending birthings—his feelings are clear on the matter. He does not want a foal.

Tears well up in her eyes, breaking free and cascading down her face though she forces herself to remain otherwise calm so that Pelium won't know she is upset. What if Quell is so angry with her, he no longer wants her as his mate? She knows he is a good centaur and will do what is right but she is afraid that this will damage their relationship beyond repair. It would be hard to raise a foal on her own but it would be even harder to be around Quell if he no longer loved her.

AfterDusk
AfterDusk
503 Followers
12