Aevyn groaned and sat up to readjust the pillows she had shifted only minutes ago. She fluffed and patted until she was satisfied, then slowly leaned back onto the pillows. Most of them were plain straw pillows, save for the one stuffed with soft goose down. Her father was a simple tailor, but he had managed to secure two of the fine pillows as part of Aevyn's mother's dowry. When she was married, Aevyn had been given one as a wedding gift from her father, and most of the time it sat on the bed, more for adornment than use. It was reserved for special guests, when it would be put in their finest white linen, washed with lavender soap, and spread in the sun to dry. But today it was pulled out, put in the everyday linen, and, along with every other pillow in the house, used to make Aevyn more comfortable. At first she protested, but her doting husband would not hear of it, saying that in her condition, she needed to be as content as possible.
She smiled, thinking of her dear Nathyn. She imagined him, carefully trimming the wicks off of the newly finished candles in the shop below their small cottage. When she had first met him, she had been unable to place the sweet smell that he carried, but now she could not smell beeswax without thinking of her beloved husband. Nathyn also sold soaps in his small candle shop, which Aevyn made with loving hands. Together, they were trying to create scented candles, by adding herbs to the waxy mixtures.
Aevyn bargained for the herbs she put into her soaps with the old midwife who lived in the small cottage next to the shop. Some of the villagers said the woman was witch, but they nevertheless called on her when they were ailing, and she always provided ointments and tonics in exchange for eggs, bread, milk, cheese, and wine. She kept her own herb garden, with fine and rare herbs of all kinds. The garden was surrounded by a high stone wall with a strong wooden gate, which had been built by the bookseller who had lived there before the woman. No one quite knew why. It was rumored that he had acquired a large sum of money and had buried it there and built the wall to keep thieves out. When the man died several tried to dig up the treasure, but they found nothing but dirt. Some said that was what made the woman's herbs grow so richly, others believed it had never really been there in the first place. Now the wall was used to guard the precious herbs, and the old woman liked having it there. Her herbs were very valuable, and she was very proud of them. A few times a young thief would manage to steal a sprig or two, thus inviting the woman's wrath, and he would end up with a disease and would die soon after. For this reason she was called a witch, and was revered and feared by all.
Aeyvn but a hand on her swollen belly. " It won't be long before I'll be needing her services", she thought happily. A breeze rustled the simple curtains that adorned the large window facing the bed. Through it, Aevyn could see over the stone wall into the old woman's garden. Now, when women are with child, they have craving for things that they would normally not have cravings for. Numerous times Aevyn had sent Nathyn out for things such as fresh pears, and dates, even thought they weren't in season. Poor Nathyn tried to fulfill her requests, but some of them he just couldn't find, or afford. Aevyn felt guilty about her cravings, and of late she had stopped asking for things. But today, as she looked out the window into the woman's garden, she saw the lush, green, patch of parsley that the woman was growing. Suddenly, she developed a craving for it she couldn't control. She tried not to think about it. She picked up the book she was reading and tried to lose herself in the story of the two lovers whose father would not let them marry, but she could not stop thinking about how delicious the parsley would taste. She tried to eat something else, but it was no use. She began thinking of ways to cook it. Boiled, or steamed, or fresh from the garden. Parsley with eggs, with ham, with mutton, with melted cheese. Parsley in her mead, parsley in her tea, parsley in HER. As the long afternoon hours passed, Aevyn felt she would go mad if she did not have some of that mouth-watering parsley soon.
Finally, Nathyn came up and asked "Well, my darling, what would you like for dinner tonight?"
"Well," Aevyn said sweetly, kissing him gently on the nose, "I was thinking today, of how much I would like some nice, fresh, parsley."
"Parsley?" Nathyn asked, puzzled.
"Yes my love, parsley. And I thought that, since the old midwife has such a fine patch growing right next door, that you might go and ask her for some." she cooed.
"Well my dove, if that's what you want, that's what you shall get! We've got to keep our little treasure healthy you know!" he said cheerfully. "I'll go right over and ask her for some. I'll offer my best candles!" And with that, he kissed her womb and hurried out the door.
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