Writing prompt courtesy of River Witch and here is the extract it comes from.
His lips twitch. It’s a start.
In the year she’s been learning, Aaron has chided her from time to time about her insistence on secrecy. It’s Hester who sulks then.
‘Don’t you want me as a pupil?’ she will cry. ‘Are you bored with me? With teaching?’ She will run a hand over the rapidly filling leather journal containing the results of her lessons, together with delicate illustrations of herbs and flowers and neatly inscribed lists of their uses, mainly medicinal, some more spiritual.
‘Don’t you understand? I don’t do this lightly, or only because it’s fun. I’m not some bored daughter of a wealthy man who needs to fill her time.’
Aaron will soften, tut, explains he does understand. He understands too well. A frown will crease the skin above his nose before he clears his throat and takes up a jar of some concoction, opens it, wafts it under Hester’s nose and demands she tell him its ingredients.
Today, she is delighting in her short encounter with the beautiful mare on the track down to Shiphaven. She can’t sulk after exchanging greetings with such a valued and well-cared-for creature. Her mood is light, floating, despite the shadow of the afternoon’s drudgery.
Aaron shrugs. ‘Before you flee from me’–the twitch of the lips is more pronounced–‘I’ve been meaning to give you this.’
His fingers dance among the detritus on the table to land finally on a small muslin bag hung on a cotton thread. ‘Do you remember the feverfew we picked and dried at the beginning of summer?’
Hester sighs. ‘Another test? Umm … it’s for nausea, vomiting and … about everything else.’
‘Hardly a specific answer. Besides, it wasn’t the question I asked.’
‘I do remember. What of this feverfew?’
‘I’ve made a gift for you from it.’ He loops the thread over her hair, commenting on how tall she has grown and she laughingly says she would have expected to grow in the past year.
‘The feverfew will protect you.’ He doesn’t say from what. ‘And make you strong.’
‘Thank you.’ Hester tucks the bag inside her dress, pats it, testing its place against her skin.
Aaron breaks the silence, picking up the agrimony. ‘Now tell me what we’ll do with this.’
‘Use it on wounds, cuts, to stop bleeding,’ Hester says immediately. ‘And I really must go.’
She walks to the door, pulls it open and stands with her back to Aaron. ‘The leaves – place them under our pillows to make sure we sleep well,’ she calls over her shoulder, and escapes into the afternoon heat before he can answer.
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The wonder of potions. Always an effective remedy for ails and ills. Especially in those days