Plague Doctor Emil (complete)

    You work as a nanny for a noble family ever since their son was born. You’ve practically raised the child, and you love him with all your heart. He’s bright and kind, and you see something special in him compared to his parents. His mother is gentle, but she’s a wilting flower often bending to the will of her husband, who is a tyrant. Luckily, he is gone often.

    Iris, the mother, has grown dependent upon you. Ever since having baby Rodry, she’s never really recovered. She gives you extra money and sometimes jewelry in return for all your help and your affection for Rodry. 

Every little bit helps as you’re working to put your own younger siblings through school. It’s been hard, especially since Gnoll slavers were a constant threat in the area. At least, they were until the war started.  The days seem to calm down, and the threat of the slavers attacking had diminished. Now, there was just the lingering threat of war on everyone’s minds.

One day while playing with Rodry in the garden while Iris sits in the cool shade, you notice Rodry is coughing a lot. On closer inspection, you also notice his usually glowing and rosy complexion is waxy and pale. 

You kiss his forehead and feel he’s very hot. “Rodry,” you gasp, “how do you feel?”

“I’m a little tired,” he admits. “But I don’t want to my Mummy worry since she’s not feeling well.” He coughs, ducking his head, so his mother doesn’t see.

You take the little boy in your arms and go to his mother. To your shock, she looks faint. She’s usually pale and frail looking, but today, she looks like a ghost.

“My lady?” You ask, and she doesn’t respond. “Lady Iris,” You say louder.

Her reaction is slow and stilted. “My,” she gasps. Her eyes widen when she sees you and Rodry, and she looks out. “Oh,” she touches her cheek. “Goodness, I simply haven’t felt right since Colonel May stopped by for a visit the other day. I’ve been so peculiar.”

Colonel May was a friend to Lord Ross the way the scorpion is a friend to the frog. They’re friendly when they want to be, but they can sting or drown when they feel like it. Colonel May had been having an affair with Iris for years. You had suspected often that Rodry was, in fact, his son.

You were shocked, to say the least, considering that May had been overseas as of late in the Islands of Bury. If one was not careful there, they could easily wind up bringing something home more dangerous than a snake or poisonous beetle. The Islands of Bury were called that because so many men had indeed been buried there after long bouts of sickness.

Looking at Iris and Rodry now, you worry that Colonel May may have brought back something with him, giving it to Iris and Rodry in the process.

“If you are feeling ill, perhaps you should go lie down,” you tell her and offer your hand so she can stand.

“Oh, that sounds lovely,” Iris swoons before she even takes your hand. She falls onto the ground, looking very much like a wounded bird.

“Mummy!” Rodry tries to cry out, but he starts to cough and wheeze. He gasps in fright once he looks at his little hands, sees blood splattered there. “Nanny, I’m scared!” Fat tears start to stream down his cheeks.

“Don’t cry, darling,” you whisper.

You get help for Iris, and I tend to Rodry. The staff and you quarantine them in Lady Iris’ room. You and the rest of the staff then send out for a doctor, someone who knew better about strange and foreign diseases. The nurses here were at a loss. They had no idea what to do.

Luckily, it doesn’t take too long for us to receive word from someone who is willing to help us. He arrives on day driving a carriage with a showy picture painted along the side. It read: “Doctor Emil’s Wonder Serum.” 

You and the other exchange wary looks, wondering if he’s really a doctor or some sideshow huckster trying to sell his wares. As Emil steps off his carriage, you see he’s wearing dark clothes where the wrists and ankles are tight to the body. He has on a wide-brimmed hat with a gold band, and below it, he’s wearing an odd mask. It’s white with dark lenses for eyes, and the face is stretched out into a long beak. 

“Hello, hello, hello,” Emil sings as he approaches you at the door. He takes off his hat and bows low, swinging his hat into the air. “Doctor Emil are your service, my lady!” His voice is sing-songy and bright. He certainly sounds like some snake oil salesman. 

He stands erect and places his hat back on his head. “I was told there were some seriously ill people here.” He tilts his head up and whistles. “Nice place ya got here.” He’s pretty tall, but he’s a little thick, kind of husky.

You scowl and step towards him. “The Lady of the place and her son are extremely ill,” you tell him with a hushed, dangerous tone. “They’re both weak, pale, and are having labored breathing.”

Emil tilts his head as your talk.

“The little boy has been coughing blood for three days now. The lady barely moves. She doesn’t eat or drink. She just lies there.” You ball up your fists and glare at him. “If you’re just someone looking for a quick dollar then here-” you shove a fist full of money at him. 

“This isn’t a place for false miracles,” you whisper.

Emil looks down at the money in his hands then holds it back out to you. “I do not promise such things. I promise results.” He looks back at his carriage. “Yes, I sell my wares on roadsides and markets. Yes, I try to make a quick buck anyway I can. But first and foremost I respect my craft, and I do know how to heal.” He places the money back into your pockets.

“Let me see the patients,” the song is gone from his voice.

You take him to the quarantined area, following him into the bedroom. He looks over Lady Iris and then checks on Rodry.

“Nanny,” she wheezes.

You sit beside him, squeezing his small hand. “Don’t worry, this is the doctor we sent for. He’s going to try and help you.” You glare up at Emil.

“Have you been coming in here often?” Emil asks you.

You furrow your brow. “I do it, so no one else has to.”

“And yet,” Emil whispers, “you show no symptoms. You don’t even show signs of slowing done.” He approaches you and opens your eyes wide. “Do you grow up on a dairy farm?” He asks.

You feel like you should take offense to it, but then you settle and nod. “Yes,” you stare him down. “How did you-”

He sits up and returns to Lady Iris’s side. He removes a bottle from his belt, shakes it up, uncaps it, and dumps the contents into her mouth. All this in one fluid, dance-like motion. He rubs her throat, and in a moment Lady Iris is gasping and coughing.

“What’d you do?” You jump up, but he holds his arm out and kicks a waste bucket to the side of the bed just as Lady Iris heaves and throws up. The waste bucket becomes filled with dark green phlegm and bile. Along with it, there are dark black chunks you’ve never seen before.

Emil then turns and glances at you. “Thought so,” he sings.

“What did you-” you shake your head and blink rapidly. “How did you-” you look back at Emil as he shakes up another bottle as he goes to stand beside Rodry. 

Emil chuckles. “Simple, I’m a doctor.” He holds up Rodry and feeds him the bottle. A moment later Rodry vomits up the same contents as his mother. Both of them fall into a deep sleep afterwards.

Emil walks you out of the room and folds his arms behind his back. “Go ahead, apologize.”

You blink as you look up at him. “Excuse me?”

“Apologies,” Emil stops in the empty hallway and bends at his waist to come to eye level with you. “Come on now. Let me hear the words.”

You sigh. “Ok,” you grumble. “I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

“Ah!” Emil stands up and raises his hands. “Beautiful words.”

“But how did you know all that?” I ask him. “What they were sick with, how I grew up on a dairy farm.”

“What they have is a bacteria,” Emil replies. “Not really a sickness, more like a parasite living in their lungs and stomach. They need to eat so they can vomit again. Make sure you get food into them before the next dose. Water as well. Tons and tons of water.”

“But the dairy farm!” You urge.

“You’re immune and healthy and peachy as a dairy maid should be,” Emil taps the tip of your nose. “Working around the cows and their raw milk you’ve built up a tolerance naturally. Not quite sure what it is, but I’ve noticed a connection in my studies.”

You walk beside him as he takes longs strides down the hallway.

“They’ll need several doses,” Emil murmurs, almost as if he’s talking to himself. “I’ll need to start working to make more. My inventory is low.” He goes outside and to his carriage. 

“Aren’t you hungry?” You ask after him.

He turns before going into the carriage. “Are you?” He laughs. “After seeing them wretch up everything?” He shakes his head. “If I get hungry, I’ll eat, but for now, I have work to do.”

You sigh as Emil disappears into his wagon. You turn back inside, going to tell the cook to make a light broth for Iris and Rodry once they awake. 

Over the next few days, Emil continues to give the medicine to Iris and Rodry. Each time they throw up phlegm and more of the gross black chunks that seem to be causing the sickness. You try to help Emil as much as possible, but as Iris and Rodry get better, they become more demanding of your time.

When you can, you help Emil bottle and seal his medicine. You help him go into the woods to collect ingredients as well. He’s teaching you quite a lot about what you can use just beyond the front door. 

“This moss can heal wounds,” he tells you one day. “It keeps it clean and allows it to heal quickly.” He scraps fistfuls of it from the trees, throwing it all into a bucket you carry. “I can make a slave from it that is great for cuts, bruises, and even dry skin,” he laughs.

You follow along beside him, smiling slightly. “Is that why you wear the mask then?” 

“The what?” He asks.

You place your hand over your face. “The mask. Do you have dry skin?”

Emil laughs, touching the bill of the mask. “I wear this to protect myself. I deal with a lot of illness and the like.”

“Then why do you never take it off?” You ask.

Emil turns his head. “Oh look!” He dashes over to the base of a tree, scooping up a mushroom from the ground. “Perfect! Exactly what I was looking for.”

You frown, feeling like he’s avoiding the question. As you go to approach him, hear you a great fuss coming back from the castle. There is the sound of fanfare and shouting, horses and carriages.

“Oh no,” you gasp, dropping the bucket and racing back towards the manor. Once you get there, you see Lord Ross jumping off his horseback. 

You race up to head him off the pass. “My lord!” You gasp. “Welcome home have you-”

He turns and stares you down. You shrink under his dark gaze. “My Lord,” you start again, slowly. “Lady Iris and your son are very sick. I don’t recommend.”

“Sick?” He sneers. “How could you let this happen?”

You freeze, and you want to take a step away, but you know if you move it will only make things worse.

Lord Ross takes a step towards you. “Your job is to protect my son from any harm. This includes getting sick.”

You stand in place, gripping onto your apron. “Yes, I know sir,” you whisper.

“Not only did you fail that very simple task, but you also let it spread to my wife?” He strikes you across the face and you dare not even cry out in pain, or he may do it again.

“I’m sorry, sir,” you keep your eyes down. “They are getting better.”

He strikes you again, and this time you stumble backwards and fall onto the stairs.

“There shouldn’t have been anything to get better from!” Lord Ross roars. “You dare disrespect me? After I trusted you?”

You try to stand up, but he pushes you down.

“Stay there on the ground, it’s where you belong.” Lord Ross stomps into the house, and you hear him shouting down the hallway.

You sit there, sniveling and whimpering. Your face ache, and it’s hot to the touch. He feel a calming presence loom over you and looking up, you see Emil kneeling down to you.

“Look at me,” he whispers.

You try to push his hands away, but he touches you gently as he examines your cheek. “It’ll be ok,” he helps you to your feet. “I’ll get this take care of.” 

Emil leads you to his wagon where he sits you down inside. A moment later, he places something cold to your cheek. It smells strongly of lavender and comfrey. You whimper and sniffle as hot tears roll down your cheeks.

“Has he done that to you often?” Emil asks as he sits beside you.

You nod. “Once before,” you sniffle. “Rodry had pulled the tablecloth, and Lord Ross spilt tea on himself. He hit me so hard I lost a tooth then.”

Emil takes your hand and squeezes it gently. 

“I also once stood between him and Rodry. He had his belt ready to beat him, all because he wet his bed.” You swallow and shake your head. “I asked for that one.”

“No,” Emil snarls. “No one ever asks for such treatment.” He sighs. “No wonder Lady Iris can’t recover. She has that sickness to deal with.”

Emil then removes the cold back and checks your cheek. “A little longer,” he murmurs. “How does it feel?”

“It’s not hurting as much,” you reply.

“That’s good.” He then stands up to leave.

“Where are you going?” You gasp.

He holds up two vials of medicine. “Lady Iris and little Rodry need their evening dosage,” he replies.

You jump up, following after him. “You can’t! Not while Lord Ross is there!”

Emil snaps back to you. “Go back inside and keep that compress on your face!” He commands. “I don’t give two shits about this Lord Ross. Iris and Rodry need their medicine, and they’ll take it whether that overbearing codpiece likes it or not.”

You chase Emil as he heads into the house, but he evades you and closes the doors in your face. You struggle with them, trying to get them open. You bang on the doors and eventually, one of the maids answers.

“Where’s Lord Ross?” You gasp.

“He went to go see Lady Iris,” she says.

You gasp and run off. Emil must already be there, you just pray Lord Ross hasn’t done anything to him yet. When you get to the bedroom, Lord Ross has Emil held back by two of his guards. Rodry is crying in bed as Lady Iris holds him. He nightgown is ripped, and her nose is bleeding. 

Lord Ross is striking Emil with his belt. His hat is knocked off, and his clothes are ripped. As you rush in, Lord Ross rips away Emil mask and reels back in horror. 

“This disgusting creature has been in my home?” He snarls. “Around my wife?” He barks.

Emil spits blood. “You don’t deserve either of them,” he snarls.

You lunge in front of Emil, blocking him from Lord Ross’s wrath. “Let him go! He’s saved your wife and son’s lives! Let him go for that!”

Lord Ross glares down at you, seething. “Haven’t you learned anything?” You brace yourself for the blow, but you hear Lady Iris scream.

Opening your eyes, you see Iris standing there with a candlestick in her hand, Lord Ross is unconscious and bleeding on the ground. 

“You see that Rodry?” She shouts to the boy. “That is what happens to bad people!” She then looks at you, and you both go towards Emil.

Lord Ross’s guards release him and step aside, eager to be away from the scene more than anybody. You examine Emil face, touching his bright red skin. He leans into your palm and looks up at you with dark, black eyes.

“A tiefling,” Iris murmurs.

You run your fingers through Emil's hair and realize his horns have been cut off. You Then help Emil to his feet, getting him to his wagon to lay down.

“He didn’t hurt me that bad,” he laughs. “Just a few good kicks and slaps with his belt is all.” 

You use the compress he gave you earlier on his face. His maks had protected him from some blows, but he still showed signs of beating.

“My brothers would be so disappointed in me if they knew some fancy pants nobleman beat me up,” he grumbles.

“What happened?” You whisper.

Emil sighs. “When I walked in, he had Rodry locked in the closet, and he was trying to force himself on Lady Iris.” He groans as he sits up, holding his ribs. “I may have hit him first.”

You press a kiss to his lips, tasting blood. You pull back and look at his shocked expression. “Thank you,” you whisper. “For protecting them.”

Emil blinks a few times then he turns his head as his cheeks darken. “It was instinct. I would have done it for anybody.”

You kiss Emil again, and he presses close to you. He brushes his fingers along your cheek then he pulls back.

“As much as I am enjoying this,” he hisses. “I’m afraid I can’t follow it up with what it deserves.”

“I wasn’t going to go beyond the kiss,” you smirk.

Emil grins, showing off his sharp teeth. “I guess that’s the difference.” He sighs, and he relaxes back into the bed. 

You brush his hair away from his forehead, cleaning the cut there and wiping away the blood. You touch the stumps where his horns used to be. “What happened here?” You ask.

Emil grumps and looks away. “Childhood deformity,” he grumbles. “My horns were growing way too fast, and they were getting so heavy they nearly broke my neck.”

“Oh,” you gasp.

“My brothers kept the horns to play with,” he laughs. “But it was the doctor who helped me,” Emil murmurs. “Even though I was a tiefling he still helped my mom and me.” He looks up at you. “I trained with him after that.”

“Ah,” you smile, “a backstory.”

Emil chuckles. “Just a small one.”

You kiss his forehead. “Get some rest. I’m going to go tend to Iris and Rodry.”

“Please,” he whispers.

You go inside and clean up the mess, getting Lord Ross dragged downstairs where the guards throw him into the wine cellar. You take care of Iris and Rodry, giving them the medicine from Emil.

After everything is said and done, you go back out to Emil’s wagon. He’s asleep inside, so you crawl into bed with him.

Come morning, you’re wrapped up tight in Emil’s arms, and you wake to his kiss on your forehead. You meet his lips, anxious for another kiss. Emil moans softly, moving over top of you as you wrap your arms around him.

His tail swishes back and forth, free from his robes. You gasp softly as you touch his bare skin. It’s silky to the touch, and he smells like herbs. 

Emil strips away your clothes, pressing his bare chest to yours. He kisses down your neck and chest, nuzzling to your belly. His eyes flick up to you, glowing bright yellow in the darkness of the wagon.

You whimper softly, wriggling under him as he pins back your legs. He kisses your thighs, and you feel his finger at your folds. He rubs and kneads, slowly opening you. Emil’s touch goes deeper, reaching the core of your heat.

“Emil,” you mewl.

“Look at this plump berry,” Emil purrs.

You gasp as his tongue swirls around your clit. You gasp as he slips a finger inside you.

“Sweet too,” Emil purrs.

You squeeze tight around his finger, your body surging as his lips come down, sucking your clit in small, short bursts. You gasp and sigh, arching your back off the bed.

Emil chuckles and his cheek rubs to your thigh. “I could stay between these thighs all my life.” He rises up, placing himself over top of you again. “Can I?” He sings.

You nod, gasping for breath as you feel his length rub against you.

Emil moans, rolling his hips and grinding himself against your folds. You can hear him splash in your slickness and you gasp for breath. Your back arches off the bed again, and Emil lowers his head to kiss you. 

As you taste him, he slips inside you. You moan into his mouth, feeling every inch of him. He’s long and curved, the tip of his cock pressing deep inside and hitting your sweet spots expertly. 

You wrap your legs around him, and he chuckles. “Those thighs,” he purrs.

Emil starts to move, pushing deep before pulling back. He moans for you, sighing deeply as he fills you. Emil touches you ,stroking your body and kissing you deeply. You gasp, feeling a spark rush through your body.

“That’s it,” Emil whispers into your ear. “Feel it?”

You cry out as another spark shoots down and makes your toes curl. 

“That’s it,” Emil snarls again. He starts to move faster and harder. Surely, by now, everyone can notice that his wagon is swaying back and forth.

You cry out, gripping hard onto his back. You buck, grinding him inside and he hits a spot that makes you nearly scream. Your body is flooded with such a powerful wave you only see white for a moment. You whimper and tremble, still holding onto Emil until his body stills. He huffs and puffs, spasming and then laying on top of you.

He’s heavy, but the weight is nice. You can feel his heat pooling inside you, and you bite your lip, finding you enjoy it as well.

Emil grunts and rubs his cheek to your breast. “Soft,” he croons.

You chuckle and kiss the top of his head. “Don’t fall asleep again and trap me.”

“I would never,” he mutters sleepily. He looks up at you and smiles. “How do you feel? Anything hurt?”

“What about you?” You ask, watching him as he sits up. You notice some bruises on his ribs and kiss them. He’s a little husky with a slight pooch to his belly.

“I’m fine,” he laughs. “Light as a feather.” He meets you kiss and sighs. “Just not ready to get up yet.”

You sit in his lap and rest your head on his shoulder. “We can linger for a while,” you murmur, not wanting to go anywhere either. 

Emil rests his cheek on your head and chuckles. “Is he dead?” He asks.

“Huh? Oh!” You gasp. “Uhm, unconscious is all. I think.” You shake your head. “I guess we’ll find out.”

“You can come with me,” Emil whispers. “Just the two of us.” He brushes your hair from your face. “I won’t ever let him hurt you again.”

“I won’t let him hurt you either,” you agree. “I’ll protect you.”