37. Second Treatment
When they reached the front room, Varhog dropped her hand and said, "I'm louder. I'll go out and call for them." He opened the door, closing it behind himself. Willow thought she understood why when she heard him bellow with terrifying volume, "Firesword! We're done!" Then Varhog came back in and smiled at her. "That should do it."
"I would expect so," Willow mildly said, attempting to keep her face blank. "I would imagine the good folk in Teirm just wondered what fearsome beast was upon them." Her resolve broke, and a fit of laughter overcame her.
Varhog chuckled deeply and sprang toward her. It was such a familiar move that Willow almost instinctively dodged it, but she suppressed the reflex and stayed where she was, loving how it felt when he caught her.
When they had first started sparring, Varhog had caught her every time, and Willow had grown increasingly frustrated by her ineptness. She hadn't perceived the circle of his arms as she did now, and when she had first successfully dodged such an attack, she was astonished by her triumph.
Varhog crushed her against his mighty chest, his powerful arms an inescapable prison. Willow turned her face toward his as he lowered it and playfully nuzzled her neck, growling like a rabid beast and saying, "I like it when you let me catch you. I know you could have evaded that." Willow giggled at the ticklish sensation.
They were thus engaged when Eragon and Arya burst through the door, appearing winded, which made Willow wonder if they had been racing. "You're still faster," Arya complained.
"But only just," Eragon soothed. "Perhaps because of the baby." Arya smiled at him, looking mollified, and then they both noticed Willow and Varhog.
"You two look happier," Eragon observed.
Willow nodded. "Yes. I just needed my mate. Nothing a little time in his arms can't cure." Varhog chuckled, and Willow placed her hands over his chest where she felt it the most. "I missed that so much these last days, sweetheart. It's music to my ears."
Varhog kissed the top of her head, murmuring, "As is yours to mine."
Eragon smiled, and Arya seemed touched. But, with a return of her clinical, business-like manner, she said, "Well, shall we proceed then? Where is the fluid? You were successful, I presume?"
"Most definitely," Varhog assured. "It's still in the bedroom."
Willow and Varhog followed the other two down the hallway. Arya and Eragon both regarded the bed once they were standing in front of it.
"You left it so neat," Arya commented.
"We didn't use it," Willow explained. "It seemed wrong somehow, knowing what you two have undoubtedly done on it."
Arya raised her eyebrows, and Eragon grinned. Though she was trying to subdue it, Arya's curiosity got the better of her. "Where did you . . . ?"
"The chair," Willow said, pointing toward the cup on the table.
Arya's eyes widened even more. "The chair? Why can't I ever think up the really good ideas? That gives me some interesting things to contemplate as we finish up this treatment business. I'll try to keep my mind where it should be. Willow, please sit on the bed. I'm going to determine whether the first treatment I performed was effective."
"It was," Willow and Varhog both said at the same time, looking at each other and laughing.
"That's good to hear," Arya said with an amused smile. "I will nonetheless ascertain that your brain agrees." She moved to stand in front of Willow sitting obediently on the bed. "Hold one arm straight out from your body at shoulder height," she instructed.
"Like this?" Willow asked, lifting one arm in front of her with her palm down.
"Exactly. I'll be lightly pressing down on your arm. Try to resist it with your normal strength, no more. I'm going to ask your brain a series of questions. It will perceive the energy of my thoughts and answer me through the muscle of your arm. All of my questions will be close-ended, meaning they can be answered with either yes or no. If your arm remains strong, your body is telling me no. If it goes weak, your body is telling me yes. Some practitioners have the exact opposite method, but this is how I was trained. I can ask the questions silently by simply thinking the thought to your brain and it will still work, but I'll demonstrate aloud once so you can observe. Then for the sake of speed, I will do the rest mentally. It's called muscle-testing, and is a very simple, effective, safe method of diagnosis."
Arya lifted one hand to the wrist of Willow's upraised arm and asked, "Are you allergic to Varhog's voice?" She pressed down, and Willow's arm remained strong. Arya continued, "Physically?" and the arm stayed up. "Chemically?" and there was no change. "Emotionally?" and once again, Willow's arm was strong. "Is your allergy to Varhog's voice cleared?" Willow's arm plunged downward, and she laughed.
"I couldn't control it," Willow said in awe.
"No, it's completely subconscious. The only time it might not work is if I tried to do it on someone as strong as Eragon or Varhog. They could resist my effort with very little thought. And Varhog? Well, I imagine I could jump on his outstretched arm and it wouldn't budge downward." Willow laughed, grinning proudly at Varhog.
Arya went on, "They would need to be tested through a surrogate, someone whose own strength did not so greatly exceed my own. It also might not be effective on someone much weaker than I, who couldn't resist my effort even if they tried. But as you can tell, I'm pressing very little. Now keep your arm up and resisting. I will swiftly run through the same questions with the other sensory perceptions of Varhog." This she did, and Willow's arm followed the same pattern of remaining strong then going weak once at the end.
However, when Willow's arm repeatedly dropped three times in a row, she inquired, "What were you asking then?"
Arya replied, "I asked if you were allergic to his semen and got yes for each of the three levels. Varhog, will you please bring me the cup?" Varhog did and handed it to her. Arya glanced at it, and Willow could have sworn that Arya had the same thought about the volume of the contents as Willow had earlier, though Arya had the decency not to comment. Willow bit her lower lip to keep from smiling but did a poor job. Arya's eyes flitted to hers, and Willow's laugh bubbled out in spite of her efforts.
Willow clamped a hand over her mouth but kept laughing. "I'm sorry," she cried in a muffled voice. "I'm being so immature, but I just can't help it." She closed her eyes, taking a few deep breaths. Finally she managed a shaky suppression of her mirth, keeping her eyes closed as the smile threatened to break forth into laughter.
When she spoke, Arya's voice revealed her amusement. "I'm going to need you to hold this, Willow." Willow's shoulders started shaking. "You had best open your eyes so you don't spill it."
Willow desperately shook her head, the mirth at the very surface once more. "I can't. I'm trying to control my silliness but to no avail. Forgive me, everyone." Willow took another deep breath and finally managed to control her merriment, setting her face as she took the cup from Arya and looked pointedly away from it.
Willow noticed Eragon's confusion when her face was turned. "What's so funny?" he asked.
"It's nothing," Willow insisted. "Earlier I commented to Varhog that it seemed like a lot of semen. When Arya appeared to have the same thought, I thought it was funny. But I'm being ridiculous. Sorry, Arya. Go ahead," Willow finished, returning her attention to Arya.
Arya dismissively shook her head, still smiling. "Hold it in one hand and raise your arm like before," she directed.
"Do I need to have it touching my skin?" Willow asked, determinedly clenching her jaw to prevent the smile from returning.
"No, the electromagnetic field passes through glass," Arya responded, "which is probably for the best. This way it won't irritate your skin, since you're still so violently allergic to it. Is it safe to assume that none got on you when you collected this?"
"Yes," Willow confirmed.
"Then let's finish this," Arya said.
Willow asked, "How long does the treatment need? Twenty-four or twenty-five hours?"
"Twenty-five to be safe," Arya answered. "I'll notify you somehow when the time is up. Then come back here and I will retest to be sure the treatment was effective." She performed the muscle test once more while Willow was holding the cup with Varhog's semen, and Willow's arm plummeted more easily than before. "This is a serious allergy. As difficult as it will be, do your best not to interfere with this treatment. I don't know what you did to collect this, but I would recommend that you even avoid joining your bodies."
Willow nodded firmly but not without a look of desperate sadness as Arya swiftly began the treatment that involved tapping down Willow's spine. Then Arya used her fingers to massage all of the pressure points of the liver pathway, this time over Willow's clothes. When she was done, she asked Willow to hold up her arm and repeated her light pressure down. Willow's arm stayed strong. "The allergy to his semen is cleared, but this new energy message must pass unhindered through your body. Hold the cup for about ten more minutes, then you will be done. I'll have you wash your hands before you go."
"I understand," Willow quietly said, finally able to look at the contents of the cup in her hands without amusement. She stared at the clear fluid that looked white, accumulated as it was, thinking of where it had come from and how she wished it could have gone into her body as it was meant to. She remembered the burning agony that innocuous fluid had created within her and shuddered. How could she ever forget? Willow was seized with overwhelming gratitude for what Arya was doing for her, giving her the chance to continue in her marriage and enjoyment of this expression. She tore her gaze from the cup and looked at Arya. "Thank you," she fervently breathed, and Arya inclined her head in acknowledgement.
Willow tightly clutched the cup for the remainder of the required time, focusing her mind on the energy of the minute specks moving doggedly through the fluid. She set it on the table when she was supposed to and went to wash her hands. She saw in the mirror when Varhog appeared behind her and, with hands still wet, turned and slid her arms around his muscular waist.
"These next twenty-five hours will be hard," she murmured. "Can we perhaps fly twelve and half hours one direction, then turn and fly back so we arrive at our hut at just the right time?"
"I feel the same," Varhog admitted. "How can we be together but apart like this? It would be easier if our honeymoon hadn't been so rudely interrupted last week. Then we might not feel so starved for one another."
Willow nodded. "True. But I change my mind. I want you to hold me and not let me go the whole time we must wait. I don't want to be cold and alone. I'm so tired, I could probably sleep most of it anyway."
"Yes," Varhog agreed, "that does sound better. Right now I feel as if I could sleep for a few days straight."
"Then let's go. We need to leave them alone." Willow tilted her head in the direction of the bedroom then slipped around him and went to the table where the food from breakfast was still out. She grabbed a fair amount of it and returned to him. "You carry me, I'll feed us," she suggested.
Varhog smiled. "Very well." He grabbed the blanket on the sofa and also reached for her dress, which she had brought with them when they first left the bedroom. "Can't forget this," he muttered, draping the blanket around her shoulders before lifting her into his arms and walking toward the door.
Since Eragon and Arya had never left their bedroom, Willow called back over Varhog's shoulder, "We're leaving. Thank you." Then Varhog let them out and walked in the direction of their hut under the increasing flurry of snowflakes.
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A/N: Next chapter has discussion of intimacy.