The Healer

Coral idly walks along the trees, following a bumblebee that crashed into her several feet back. She traces the creature's zig zag across the path, before it finally settles on a plant, landing on a plume of soft pink flowers. The bee's weight makes the plume sag, causing it to bob as it clings onto the blossom upside down, to collect the plant's pollen. She waits until the bee has had its fill and moves on, before she kneels down and pushes aside the encroaching plants. Carefully, with gloved hands and a knife, she harvests several of the comfrey's inner leaves, dropping them into the overflowing basket from her journey so far. The large leaves cover the assortment of flowers, plants and roots that she has gathered on her morning walk, alone in the forest.

She hears loud footsteps behind her, turning to see a tall, slender young man. His long brown hair is slicked back, gathered into a neatly at the base of his neck. His smoothly shaven, handsome face and crisp clean clothes lend well to the air of confidence he exudes. Meeting her gaze, he gives her a brilliant smile.

"Good morning, Coral," his deep voice speaks to her.

Coral sets her knife in her basket, rising from her crouch. She presents a slight curtsey, lowering her eyes while she responds, "Good morning, Tobias, sir."

His soft but firm hand reaches out, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze, "You know that you do not have to curtsey to me, Coral. I've told you as much, many times before."

She smiles and shrugs, "It is only proper, sir."

He shakes his head at her, "And I've also insisted on you calling me Tobias." He slowly moves in closer to her.

Coral, shy with her modesty, turns her head away from him, taking a step back, but he continues to advance on her until she feels her back pressed firmly against a tree. Her heart starts beating quicker as he comes nearer, much closer than he should. She tenses, unsure what to do; automatically her hands rise up to rest on his chest, attempting to hold him at bay. She refrains from shoving him away from her, but instead tries to casually push him back. It doesn't work.

"You are beautiful, Coral," his voice purrs to her.

She dares to look up and meet his gaze; his eyes wander over her face, down her neck, and to the exposed tops of her breasts, the plump curves rising and falling quickly as she struggles to maintain her calm.

Tobias has made it clear for the past few months that he desires to have her. She has thwarted his advances so far; being the son of the Governor, she knows that he always gets what he wants from whomever he wants it from. Like his father, he has bedded many women and while most of them didn't want it, none of them were in a position to refuse.

"Thank you, Tobias," she manages to breathe out, "but I should really be getting home. Piers is expecting me."

She tries to slide out from under him, but his hand lands firmly on her hip, holding her in place. He starts to pull the fabric of her dress up; her knees almost buckle in terror.

"He can wait. At the Celebration, you will receive your garland, will you not?"

As he pulls the last of her skirt up, Coral can feel the cool, morning air hit the hot skin of her thighs. Desperately, she tries to push the bunched up fabric back down but his left hand holds it in place. Coral draws in a sharp breath when she feels his right hand graze the top of her thigh. Large, intent fingers creep against her skin, before teasingly flickering at the hair over her mound.

Her heart pounds fiercely; no man has ever touched her legs let alone her cunt. As he strokes the soft, fluffy hair she experiences a feeling new to her; she feels her womanhood tighten inside and a wetness seep out from within.

Tobias rests his forehead against hers, whispering softly, "With your garland, you will finally be able to receive offers of marriage. I am sure that my intent has been clear, you will be my wife. I will have you for my own." He tilts his head forward mashing his lips to hers. While doing so, his fingers press forward, parting her cunt lips to firmly stroke her clit.

Coral feels her legs tremble, her uncontrolled moan is muffled against his mouth. Though she doesn't know what he is doing to her, her body responds; she kisses him back needily. His fingers slide back and forth over her clit, wet with her excitement. Slowly, he eases his hand lower, sliding half of his middle finger inside of her tight cunt, before the resistance of her hymen encircling it stops him from going further.

She trembles as he pushes and pulls the finger out of her; it feels so good, she wants more, but she doesn't know why. Or what more would entail.

He takes her hand and slides it down his chest, past his waist until she feels her fingers brush something firm against his crotch. Embarrassed, she tries to pull her hand back but he holds it there, forcing her fingers to feel the length of his cock through his pants.

"There is no question that you will belong to me," he breathes heavily, his cock pulsing against her hand, "so there is no reason for us to wait until then."

Coral manages to pull her hand free, turning her head to get away from him, "I...I don't know anything about that."

Rubbing her clit faster, he makes her legs shake. Tobias knows that he has made her want it, but her modesty still controls her. He breathes into her ear, his voice thick with want, "I know plenty about it for the both of us."

Her heart beats so fast, she doesn't think she can breathe. What he is doing to her, the way he touches her womanhood has made her weak, made her lust for him in a way she hasn't felt before. She wants it, but she knows that if she freely gives away her first time before marriage, before she has the guarantee of Tobias being her husband, she runs the risk of him changing his mind. No longer a virgin, she wouldn't be as appealing to another man. As she is already orphaned and indebted to her guardian Piers, she has no prospects for herself, save her maidenhood.

Tobias's free hand grasps her breast, kneading the tender flesh through the fabric of her bodice. Emboldened by his hold over her, he dares to press two half fingers into her wet cunt, attempting to prepare it for the entry of his cock.

Coral moans, feeling her opening stretch to accommodate the second finger, yet still so tight that she has no idea how anything more would fit. She doesn't want to refuse him, but she knows that she must. Gathering up her courage, she reaches down and pushes his hand away from her body, sliding out from him in one swift movement. She stumbles free, leaving him leaning against the tree. Coral rushes to grab her basket and walks swiftly down the path.

She can hear him groaning behind her, "Coral, I will have you."

Turning around to face him, she continues to walk backwards, "After we are married, I will have no reason to refuse you. You will simply have to wait until then. Good day, sir."

She almost runs the entire way home. Forcing her legs to move quickly, the air into her lungs and the harsh beating of her heart helps to quell whatever fire Tobias set inside of her. When she reaches the small house, Piers walks towards the barn with a bucket of water.

"Come help me, child," he grumbles.

"Right away," she calls, entering the small house to set her basket down.

Assisting Piers with the chores helps the rest of the morning fly by, giving her little time to think about Tobias touching her. When they finally break for lunch, Coral busies herself with cutting up the bread and meat, placing them on two dented metal plates for her and Piers. She hands the old man one, pouring fresh water into his wooden mug. Normally, they don't talk much, but today he grumbles at her after a few bites.

"Did I ever tell you I was there when you were born?" His aging face looks distant.

Coral watches him, waiting.

"It was mid summer. Your father had come to help me repair the pasture fences, and your mother—oh, her belly was so big—she couldn't stand the temperature inside. She came too, and was going for a swim in the river to cool off. Out you popped, right into the water. Good thing your mum was a quick woman, or you would have been swept away with the current. Your dad and I heard your screams and came running; there you were, naked and wet, christened into being. Aye," he says, turning to her, "I guess that means you are already past your eighteenth day of birth. But you won't receive your garland of flowers until the Celebration. No doubt some young lad will make you an offer of marriage the same night. I've seen a way a few of them look at you. Don't feel obligated to answer them right away, but let all of them that wish it make a proposal, then you will be able to choose the one you want the most."

She shifts uncomfortably, Piers having never broached anything fatherly in subject with her before. When she came to him crying several years ago, because she was bleeding from between her legs, he simply left the house. He sent one of the older women in the village to come explain to her what was happening, and he didn't return until well after nightfall. They never talked about it again.

Coral lost her father when she was only three years old; she thinks that she has memories of him, but she can never visualize his face. Many of the men his age died as well, either during the great Battle or shortly afterwards from their wounds. Her mother, belly full with a final gift from her deceased husband, died while trying to give birth to Coral's brother. With most of the men dead and buried, crops burned as punishment and little for the remaining families to survive on, there were none who wanted to take her in. Piers had come to collect her family's sheep to add to his own flock and found her snuggled up to a ram for warmth. She is not sure why he did it, but he took the sheep as well as her, and has raised her since. He never pretended to be her father; he never babied her or coddled her but taught her more as an apprentice, a protégé. Regardless, she is forever grateful to him for his kindness, besides the fact that he says he did it just to have an extra pair of hands for chores.

"I will be lucky to get one offer, if any," she replies, thinking about Tobias's certain claim of her. No doubt he has made it known to his competition, and no young man would run the risk of competing with the Governor in waiting.

"Nonsense," Piers retorts, talking with his mouth full of bread, "I'll admit that what I have taught you is not a woman's work. In fact, most of the men around here are too soft to do half of the things you know how, but one day I will be gone and these town folk will have no choice but to look to you to help their animals. It is an honest trade, and a highly lucrative one, especially for a woman. It is just...good money sense for a man to claim you."

Piers is the local animal healer and has taught Coral all he knows. While there is a healer for the people in the next town over, most come to Piers with their own ailments rather than bother with the travel. Coral knows how to cure all that commonly ails the livestock and for those that she is unable to heal, she knows how to provide them with a swift mercy killing. She can set a broken bone, though it is only done with the prize champions of flocks, and on several occasions she has helped Piers butcher animals for meat. He keeps a surprising amount of concoctions and medicines around the small house; for the past several years he has given the task of harvesting plants from the wild to Coral, and she almost always mixes the medicines alone now.

She is unsure how to respond to his comment; best case scenario for her, Tobias makes her an offer of marriage. She has no reason to refuse him: he is a handsome young man, wealthy, set to be the next Governor of their town. Her only reservations are that she does not love him—though she doesn't know what that means. She has read the few written stories that circulate their village, speaking of beautiful women taken hostage by dragons, or trolls, or whatever monstrous creature, only to be rescued by a handsome knight. They fall in love and live happily ever after. She doesn't think that is something she will have with Tobias. He will take her to his bed and mate with her when he wishes, but she knows that he will do that with other women too. She has never really thought about it much; all of her knowledge comes from seeing the sheep, cattle, goats and horses breed. It seems like a rather violent, unpleasant sort of affair, especially for the female and the only true purpose seems to be for the production of offspring. From the bits and pieces of knowledge the other girls her age have shared, it seems to be enjoyable for the man and that is why they do it even if they don't want children.

Before their conversation progresses any further, there is a knock at the door.

"Come in," Piers grumbles.

A boy, a few years younger than Coral, comes in, taking his floppy wool hat off when he enters, "Good day, Mr. Piers, Ms. Coral."

"Hm," grunts Piers, "what is it that you need, boy?"

"They...they've arrived. The Governor bid me to come fetch you—I think one of them is injured?"

"Ugh," Piers makes a noise of distain, "is that so. I don't know anything about those creatures and that damn Governor knows it. I suppose he expects me to fix it up?"

"I think that is the thought behind me fetching you, sir."

Piers waves the boy off, "Tell him we will be there shortly."

When the boy leaves, Piers shakes his head, "Foul beasts. I don't like seeing them and I don't want to touch one either."

Coral finishes off her water, rising from the table, "Then I will do it."

"You don't know any more about them than I do, child," he says, brows furrowed.

She squints at him, "I know what the last war cost us, what it still costs us. The last thing we need is some grumpy old shell of a man calling one of them a 'foul beast.' Besides, they are more like a horse than a man. You know I am good with the horses."

He shakes his head, "All right, but I am going with you. Who knows what those beasts would do to an unescorted maiden."

They journey to the large field just outside of the village; normally it is a quiet place where the cattle graze, but it has been cleared out for their use. They made short work of setting up their camp, several oxen drawn carts, mixed with large canvas tents form a circle around their central meeting area, shielding the majority of themselves from would be curious eyes. Centuries are posted about the perimeter, the tall, majestic creatures paying no mind to Piers and Coral as they make their way through the largest opening of the circle, between two large tents. The Governor stands next to a large black creature; the man, obviously nervous, attempts to make small talk. He resembles Tobias in a lot of ways, though he has about fifty more pounds clinging to his thick frame than his son, and his hair has long since started to thin. Compared to his companion, he is dressed rather elegantly, with polished black boots, black wool pants tucked into them and a crisp white shirt underneath a deep green vest and jacket.

The large creature standing beside him appears irritated at the man's presence. His deep brown skin gleams in the sunlight, large muscular arms crossed over his defined chest, bare except for the leather harness and belt holding his weapons, a sword and several daggers. Though he has the face of a handsome, Moorish man, his long thick, coarse hair pulled back in uneven dreads, where his body should meet a pair of hips, it meets the chest of a horse, short shiny black fur extending down to thick legs, finished with hooves. The curve of his back extends out, black fur covering the rest of the horse body and hind legs, his black tail idly swishing back and forth.

Coral tries not to show her nervousness around the majestic creature. There is no love between the centaurs and humans; the great Battle that claimed her father was fought when the humans tried to wipe out the halflings, but it did not end in their favor, but rather a slaughter. With no choice but to surrender, the humans lost at a great cost. Knowing that there was nothing to prevent the centaurs from wiping them out for good, they came to an agreement; every three years, the centaurs would be paid reparations—food, wares and labor—in return for their continued peace. They take their cut, and while the humans complain about it behind their backs, Coral views it as being a fair share. She can recall two Atonements ago, when a drought had plagued their crops. The usual amount of reparation would have wiped the silo clean of grain, but instead of condemning the humans to death, the centaurs chose to take less food and more labor, ridding the village of a few criminals who were to be locked away for their crimes.

The large, black centaur, standing at least half a foot over the Governor, shifts his weight and uncrosses his arms when Piers and Coral arrive.

"Is this the healer you spoke of?" His deep voice cuts the air cleanly.

"Yes, Sir Rainer, this is the...healer," the Governor says nervously.

"Tell me, gentleman, what is it that you heal?" Rainer asks.

Piers stuffs his hands into his coat pocket, "Ah, well I tend to the livestock in our village."

"But," the Governor scrambles, "Mr. Piers also treats the villagers as well; most go to him instead of venturing to the next town over."

Rainer seems to frown, unappreciative of the man's skills. He isn't sure if he should be insulted that they sent a man who deals with animals, instead of a man who deals with humans. When his gaze turns upon Coral, his tail flicks, "And who is this maiden you bring with you?"

"This is my...apprentice, Sir. Rainer." Piers fumbles over his words, "Ms. Coral."

"A female apprentice," Rainer's face displays his disapproval, "to an animal healer? And you call us barbarians—that is hardly proper."

All of the color leaves the Governor's face when Piers laughs deep from his belly.

"You are right, master centaur, it is hardly proper, but she has a better gut for it than most men. And a kinder disposition, too."

Still frowning, the centaur flicks his tail again before turning around, "Very well, follow me. You can leave us now, Governor."

Piers follows the creature; Coral glances at the distain on the Governor's face before leaves. Switching the large wooden case to her other hand, she leans the opposite way to counter its weight before she joins the men.

Their encampment is not what she has ever imagined it to be; there are just as many humans wandering about as there are centaurs. The humans all wear the thick leather gauntlets that mark them as centurion property, yet aside from that they all appear healthy and in relatively good spirits. They tend to the fires, chop wood, prepare food and do the wash, just as they would normally. None of them appear to be beaten or shackled, as the rumors that circulate amongst the humans her age have led her to believe.

Towards the back of the camp, there is a group of three male centaurs standing around, talking. As they walk upon them, Coral uses the opportunity to look over the beautiful creatures. The first is somewhat thick; this chest isn't chiseled, his muscles hidden behind a layer of fat, yet despite his boyish features he appears to be barely thirty years. He has the beginnings of a beard, his messy brown hair is pulled up into a high bun, his brown hide glistening in the sunlight. Next to him, a centaur a little younger than herself stands. He is slender, no muscle nor fat, and couldn't have grown facial hair if he tried. His loose black hair frames is face; he shifts his weight, though Coral can see him favoring one of his grey fur covered hind legs.

The third centaur is stunningly handsome; his sun-kissed skin outlines his muscular chest, dirty blonde hair a little disheveled as if he were working or playing. There is a shadow of stubble over his face, Coral guesses him to be only a little older than her. His body extends to a beautiful palomino hide, a matching blonde tail lazily flicking about. When his piercing blue eyes catch Coral staring at him, he stomps his front hoof. She quickly averts her gaze, feeling her cheeks burn red.