8. Sisters

The visiting Riders spent the next day in a leisurely manner. The palace staff was busy cleaning up the previous day's celebration, and the queen and her prince were nowhere to be seen the better part of the day. No one went looking for them.

Arya found herself with Willow in the garden, while Eragon took Varhog to meet Jeod Longshanks, thinking it might be an introduction they would each appreciate.

As the women wandered the meandering paths between manicured lawns and wild flower beds, Willow grabbed Arya's arm and linked her own through it, as if she couldn't restrain herself for the abundance of joy she felt. With her defining sincerity she cried, "So many weddings and so much happiness! I couldn't be gladder for my two older brothers! No other two men deserved this as much as they."

Arya beamed at her in return and said, "I couldn't agree more, Willow. And you will soon enjoy such a blessed occasion."

"Yes, though it won't be as fine as yesterday, I dare say. From what Varhog told me, I'm expecting brawls and bruises over dancing and drinking, though there may also be some of that, if I know anything about men." She giggled, and so did Arya.

Arya asked, as Willow had once asked her, "Are you nervous? To be married, or whatever it shall be."

"No, not at all," Willow said. "Varhog is my dearest friend. It may be that I have only known I love him for a matter of months, but we have been friends so long that this now seems the natural next step. I'm proud he wants me for his mate. I consider it a high honor that I will be the only woman in history with an Urgal ram for a husband."

"You truly are unique, Willow. He's lucky to have you."

"Thank you! I feel the same. Varhog is amazing. All of the most senior male Riders are getting married. It makes me wonder about Hanin. Did you know him well in Ellesméra?"

"Yes," Arya answered. "Well enough, that is. There are relatively few elves compared to the other races, and we all live so long that we eventually come to know one another. So many were killed in the final battle at Urû'baen, what with the way Galbatorix had meddled with magic, which tragedy reduced our numbers even further. Hanin fought, of course. He is a very good man."

"I agree," Willow said. "And he is so different from the other elves on the Isle. He has always been very kind to me. Not that the others haven't been, Hanin is just friendly and warm. But he has never let on that he's lonely. Do you suppose he wants to find a companion?"

"I don't know," Arya said. "Many elves choose to pursue a solitary existence. As such an accepted standard for our people, no one thinks anything of it. Comparatively few elves find mates. For the other races, marrying and establishing a family are the highest good one can accomplish. I now understand why. I don't know that I was ever truly happy when I was alone. Of course, most of my life was spent as ambassador to the Varden, which was a dangerous position. Anyway, it could be that Hanin is desirous to find a mate, especially given the influence the other Riders have no doubt had on him. He is quite different from many elves, and I'm sure that can be attributed to his time on the Isle."

"I wonder if the egg has yet hatched," Willow mused. "Hanin probably arrived in Ellesméra around the same time we did in Tronjheim, which means it has been nearly two weeks. That's about how long the Choosing Ceremony lasted before Sunset hatched for me. I hope he remembers to scry us. I've been carrying around the enchanted, handheld mirror he knows to contact. Too bad we can't simply scry him and ask. That was always a frustration for Eragon and Murtagh. I know they could have simply bypassed the wards surrounding Du Weldenvarden using the name of the ancient language, but they never wanted to intrude on the barriers the elves had so intentionally and carefully set up."

"What was it like for the rest of you whenever I would scry each spring?" Arya curiously asked. "By the end, I found myself increasingly disappointed that I never got to speak with Eragon, and I often wondered why. It seems so silly to me now as I think about it in retrospect. It took me so long to admit that I love him, but I must have begun feeling that way years ago."

"I understand perfectly," Willow said. "It was extremely hard for Eragon. It got to the point that he would simply leave. He and Murtagh or Hanin would speak at length about whatever it was they needed to discuss with you, and then he would leave with Saphira for the lake. Things have been running so smoothly for the Riders in the past several years that Eragon could often be spared. Whenever he could, he was at the lake. It was heartbreaking. None but Murtagh knew the true scope of Eragon's pain, but we all were aware of it to some degree. I'm so glad he's happy now."

"As am I," Arya agreed. "I have never been happier in my life. Eragon is the kindest, most devoted husband. Having experienced what it's like to be married to him, I don't know how I thought I would be content to remain away and alone forevermore. I never could have imagined how amazing it feels to allow myself to need someone. Before, I would have mocked myself for what I would have considered a weakness. But now I feel so much stronger being with him. And safer. And warmer. It is indescribable to feel so trusting and safe with someone who has seen me at my most vulnerable and still adores me in spite of all of my flaws. Sharing that level of intimacy is beautiful and powerful."

"I can imagine," Willow said. "I'm so happy for both of you."

"Thank you, Willow." After a moment Arya asked with mild awkwardness, "So are you nervous about that? I mean, the physical intimacy aspect of your union."

Willow smiled but didn't seem at all embarrassed. "No, not even that. Why?" she teasingly wondered. "Should I be?"

"No!" Arya cried. "It's perfectly delightful!"

Willow laughed. "That's what I thought. I'm looking forward to it. Varhog is so powerful and well, just huge. There's really no other way to put it, but it does create a certain appeal. He'll just need to be careful."

"Yes, that's what I was getting at," Arya said, grateful Willow had caught her meaning. "He could kill you with an accidental squeeze of his hand. Eragon has always had to be mindful of it, and he isn't nearly as strong as Varhog. We are strong, Willow, but these male Riders are almost too strong for their own good, thanks to the strength of their dragons." She then added, "What of his body? Doesn't he have prickly bristles all over him? That might be problematic."

Willow laughed. "Yes, he does. I saw them once. We have discussed that potential obstacle. He thought we might be able to overcome it with magic. Would you be able to help me think of a spell to modify them enough that they won't bother me?"

Arya considered it thoughtfully. "Yes, I'm sure I could. What are they like?"

Willow stopped in front of an exotic looking flower with black and yellow blossoms growing from long, gray stems. The stems were covered in short, sharp thorns that stuck straight out. Unlike a rose thorn that tapered from a wide base to its thin point, these thorns were evenly thin, like sharp wires.

"This is actually remarkably representative," Willow said, pointing at the thorns. She then laughed. "Even the coloring. This flower could be called 'Urgralgra' and be perfectly accurate. Look at the gray stems and the black and yellow blooms. Black for his hair, yellow for his eyes, gray for his skin, and covered in sharp, wiry bristles. I'm going to bring Varhog here and show him this. How funny!"

Arya laughed too. She had never seen the flower before. She and Willow knelt down in front of the plant. As Arya made a silent examination of the flower stem, Willow said, "I wouldn't want to change his bristles too much or try to make them like human hair. I want him to still seem like an Urgal, just without the ability to rub me raw."

Arya nodded her understanding as she raised her left hand and murmured a phrase in the ancient language, one which directed the thorns to lie flat against the stem while also curling under and softening slightly at the ends. Her gedwёy ignasia glowed as the magic flowed forth, and the thorns did just as she bid them—lying flat, growing fine at the ends, and subtly curling under.

"What do you think?" Arya asked, running her hand up and down the stem and coming away with nary a scratch. Willow imitated her movement over the modified thorns and seemed satisfied.

"I think it will work," Willow said. "I like that you made them curl under just a bit. Then no matter which direction I move against them, they won't catch on my skin. I suppose we could always just make my hide thick like his and then there would be no need to change him. It's funny how he calls it a hide, don't you think? Like he's always trying to point out the parts of him that are like an animal to make sure I know what I'm getting myself into." She laughed. "I'll ask Varhog if he prefers that I change my skin. But will you teach me, in case he doesn't?"

Arya repeated the words so Willow could memorize them. Then Willow practiced on a neighboring stem. When she had it perfected, Arya said, "Eragon suggested that I might share something with you. Something he thought you would appreciate knowing."

Willow looked interested and curious. "Very well."

"But before I do, I will preface it with a brief explanation so you know why I was telling Eragon this in the first place."

Willow nodded, and Arya proceeded to share the difficult impasse she and Eragon encountered when they didn't know whether they would ever have children. She then continued, "The elves make it a point to study and understand the anatomy and physiology of all living creatures, and in the many millennia we have, we have learned that the form and function of all sentient, two-legged mammals—Urgals, dwarves, humans, and elves—are nearly identical. I have taught Eragon other things since I conceived, but he thought you would appreciate knowing more about how the female body works and why. He mentioned that when your body began changing you had no one to turn to and were alone to figure out how to deal with it."

"Yes, that's true," Willow verified. "I didn't have anyone to turn to who knew what was going on. At least, no one who had personally experienced it. I now know that the elves could have enlightened me, though none of the females had ever undergone the changes themselves. I was much older than most human girls are when such changes first begin. I soon learned something of it from the Eldunarí, but much of my current understanding is based on my observations of myself and of mammals in the wild during my meditation. I would be glad to hear anything you think might be helpful."

"What do you already know?" Arya asked. "I wouldn't want to be redundant."

"I know that on an almost monthly basis, I will bleed for several days. Starting a few days after the end of the bleeding, a different fluid comes. It ranges from sticky and dry-looking to very slippery and stretchy, always in that order. After a few days of the slippery fluid, it all goes away. For a couple weeks I have very little fluid at all. I'm usually aware of when the bleeding will start since I feel some activity within that area of my body, sometimes accompanied by some achiness and a slight increase in the creamier fluid. I also just count the days, since it seems very predictable and cyclical. From my observations of other mammals, I have guessed that it all has something to do with my fertility, but if it does, I don't know how and why. Am I even close?"

"Yes, that's exactly right," Arya said, impressed. "I may not even need to elaborate, so great is your comprehension. Do you have any questions?"

"Yes," Willow immediately said. "Why the bleeding? It's so inconvenient!"

Arya laughed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I have never had to experience that, and I guess if it happened month after month whether I wanted it to or not, I might feel the same. As an elf, however, if such a thing happened, I think I would rejoice at the sign that my body was preparing itself for pregnancy."

Willow looked surprised and confused, so Arya continued, "Let me explain some preliminary basics that will help you understand why the bleeding occurs. Each cycle, these changes are happening as your body prepares for a potential pregnancy. You most likely did not undergo the changes until a later age given the strenuous circumstances you were dealing with in your life at the time. Your body didn't feel ready to maintain a pregnancy so your womb remained still. Once you had grown enough and achieved a certain measure of peace, your body then felt you sufficiently ready and began the cycle you have observed in impressive detail.

"The body ripens the womb for pregnancy by nourishing it with extra blood. If a fertilized reproductive cell, or egg, implanted itself in the womb, there would need to be a ready supply of nutrients for it to begin its rapid growth into a baby. But when pregnancy does not occur, there is no need for the extra blood in the lining of the womb, and the body sheds it in the bleeding you experience each cycle. So it is simply a sign that you did not become pregnant when you were fertile. Then the cycles begins anew and the body prepares in the very same way, ensuring that there will always be a fresh nesting place for any potential fertilized egg. Does this make sense?"

Willow nodded in attentive fascination. She then asked, "What does the other fluid mean?"

Arya answered, "That fluid is produced by what is known as the cervix, which is the opening of your uterus. It signals increasing fertility as the time for ovulation approaches. Ovulation is the moment an egg is released by one of the woman's ovaries. The most fertile fluid appears right before ovulation, and its purpose is to give the male reproductive cells, which are called sperm, a chance to survive within the woman's body so one can achieve its goal of fertilizing the egg.

"The cervical fluid is analogous to the male's semen—his reproductive fluid—which is released into his partner's body during intercourse. The woman is thought to be fertile all of the days her cervix makes this slippery fluid because it is a medium in which her partner's sperm can survive for several days. So an intimate relation on any of those days may result in a fertilized egg and therefore a pregnancy, though if the relation occurs on the first day with slippery fluid, the egg itself may not appear until a few days later at the time of ovulation. Am I confusing you?"

"No! How intriguing! To think that every month, roughly, that is what's going on in my body. It's empowering to know and humbling, considering I'm about to get married. I suppose I could find myself pregnant within a matter of weeks if I could conceive with an Urgal. Do you think that could happen? You said the elves learned that the anatomy of Urgals, dwarves, elves, and humans was strikingly similar."

Arya nodded. "I would guess that is very possible, Willow. Eragon and I despaired we might never become parents in our union because of the infertility of my race. But despite that concern, we immediately did conceive. And since we did, it proves that our reproductive cells—my egg and his sperm—were indeed compatible, which was another uncertainty. Since infertility is not a widespread problem in your race or Varhog's, I see no reason why you wouldn't be able to become pregnant. Does that worry you? You are so much younger than I. Have you had time to consider whether you are ready to become a mother?"

"I don't know that anyone can ever fully prepare beforehand for the responsibility of being a parent, but among our races, Varhog and I are at the ages when such a thing would be natural. I dearly want to be a mother, and I know Varhog wants to be a sire, as they call it. Seeing him as a father would be delightful. And with you around to help me understand everything and be an example. . . . Yes, I would be thrilled."

For the first time, Arya realized that what Willow said was true. If Willow and Varhog conceived a child as easily as she and Eragon had, then their babies would be born within months of each other and she and Willow would be able to raise their children together. The thought filled her with such happiness that she unexpectedly reached out and gave Willow a joyful hug, which Willow returned.

"That would be wonderful," Arya whispered.

Willow hesitantly asked, "May I try to reach your baby? With my mind? I'm so curious."

"Of course!" Arya immediately agreed, grabbing one of Willow's hands and pressing it over her womb. "Focus right here."

Willow closed her eyes, and Arya felt her mentally reaching toward the indicated area. Willow gasped as she found the blaze of vibrant energy inside Arya's body.

"Oh!" she exclaimed. "Its heart is so strong and so fast! Already its body and mind are forming. That's so amazing!" Tears spilled onto Willow's cheeks in her awe. "I can feel how it gains everything it needs from your body. You are giving life to your baby every moment. How exquisite!" She opened her eyes and gazed at Arya in wonder.

"Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it's so personal, something meant for you and Eragon alone, but thank you. I suddenly feel an intense desire to experience that myself, to know that I'm giving life to a new being with my own creative power."

"It is the most miraculous thing I have ever experienced," Arya fervently confirmed. "It is both humbling and empowering, as you said, that our bodies are capable of such a feat without our conscious effort. I observe my baby almost constantly, as you just did, but I'm so excited for the time when it will be big enough for me to feel it move and for when Eragon can too. I hope we do get to be new mothers together, Willow. I always wanted to have a sister. Now it feels like I do."

Willow nodded blissfully. "Yes, I feel exactly the same. And Nasuada might also be a mother too, though I suppose we wouldn't be as often with her as with one another. I will miss Murtagh on the Isle. I have known him the longest out of the Riders, and he has always felt more like a brother to me than any of them. We will have to visit often so the cousins can know each other."

-:-:-

At that moment, they were both surprised to hear Hanin's voice coming from the direction of Willow's pocket. Willow started slightly before realizing what was happening and laughing at herself. She retrieved the small mirror from her pocket and held it up.

"Hanin!" she exclaimed. "We were wondering only a moment ago if we might soon hear from you!"

"Have I caught you at a bad time?" Hanin wondered with a teasing grin.

"No, brother!" Willow reassured. "Arya and I are in the royal gardens in Ilirea. We made a brief detour here so we could see the high queen sooner, and Murtagh proposed on a whim. They were married yesterday, and here we are today."

"Murtagh is married?" Hanin cried. "How fantastic! And you next, then? Well, I really do need to get serious if I am to keep up with all of my comrades. Is there any water nearby so we can transfer the spell to a larger surface?"

"Yes, there's a lovely little pond right here," Willow replied. She and Arya stood, moving over next to the small pool. They knelt once again, and Willow murmured the words that would move Hanin's scrying spell from the mirror to the water.

When he could see both of the women, Hanin said, "Ah, there we are. Hello, Arya."

"Hello, Hanin," Arya echoed. "So has the dragon hatched?"

"Indeed, Your . . . do I still call you 'Your Majesty'? I suppose not. How about 'sister'? It may take some time before it feels as natural as with Willow, but we will get there. Do you object?"

"No indeed, brother," Arya returned, smiling.

"Wonderful," Hanin said. "And yes, the dragon egg hatched earlier this morning. I have the new Rider here with me, if you would like to meet her."

"Her!" Willow repeated. "I knew it! Another elven sister! Who would have thought that I would someday have two elven sisters? But nothing makes me happier, for my first elven sister is already one of my favorite people in the world." She gave Arya a bright smile, which Arya reciprocated. "Yes, Hanin! We want to meet her!"

After only a second, a stunningly beautiful female elf appeared next to Hanin on the surface of the pond. Though Hanin tried to hide it, his countenance changed ever so slightly as he turned toward the woman and formally said, "Maehrí, it is my pleasure to introduce you to my two favorite females in all of Alagaёsia, aside from my mother, of course. Here are the other two female Dragon Riders. Arya of Ellerméra, whom you undoubtedly know at the former queen, and Willow of Feinster. Arya, Willow, this is the newest Dragon Rider, Maehrí of Sílthrim."

Willow and Arya simultaneously began the customary greeting of the elves then laughed together that they had and carried on anyway. Maehrí clearly wasn't sure what to make of their carefree manner. She performed her part of the exchange, and Arya and Willow finished it in unison.

Once the formalities were out of the way, Willow excitedly cried, "Maehrí! It is so wonderful to meet you! Congratulations on becoming a Dragon Rider. I'm so glad we have another female in our ranks! You can't imagine how it has been for me the past seven years—except for the last month—being the only female Dragon Rider on the Isle! We needed you so desperately, and now here you are! How do you feel?"

Maehrí glanced uncertainly at Hanin, who gave her an encouraging smile. She said, "I feel overwhelmed and very honored. It is lovely to meet you, Willow. Hanin has already mentioned you. I am excited for the chance to get to know you better."

"Why thank you!" Willow said. "Only believe the good things Hanin says about me." She giggled, adding, "I'm only teasing."

Maehrí looked confused again, so Willow quickly apologized, "Oh! Forgive me! I suppose it takes some time to get used to my silly personality. Well, do you have your dragon with you?"

Maehrí held up the tiny silver creature, who turned his wide, sky-blue eyes toward the mirror he was being held in front of. Arya and Willow crowed together.

"He's so tiny!" Arya cried. "I can't believe Fírnen was once small enough to fit in my hands. It's so hard to remember once they are bigger than a house! They grow so, so quickly, Maehrí. Make sure you enjoy every moment with that precious little hatchling."

"I will, Your Majesty," Maehrí dutifully promised. Then she remembered. "Oh, I mean . . . uh . . . ? Do I call you Arya?"

"You most certainly may," Arya kindly invited. "It is my name." She laughed, and Maehrí smiled timidly.

"Isn't that remarkable that your coloring is so like your dragon's," Willow observed. "You both have that sparkling silver in your hair and scales respectively, and the same pale blue eyes. How stunning." Willow's gaze flitted to Hanin, who was attempting to appear casual as he studied Maehrí from the corner of his eye. When he noticed Willow's scrutiny, he abandoned his admiring. Willow grinned meaningfully and looked over at Arya to see if she had noticed. She had, and she too smiled knowingly at Hanin.

Hanin cleared his throat, which startled Maehrí, who hadn't noticed the same thing as the other two females since she was standing beside Hanin. Arya and Willow laughed, and Hanin rolled his eyes in self-directed exasperation, shaking his head to communicate his desire that Arya and Willow keep their observations to themselves.

Willow laughed even louder. "Hanin, thank you for scrying us! We will be sure to tell the others. We're not certain of our plans from here. I mean, we know we'll next be going to Varhog's village, but I'm not sure when that will happen or how long we will stay. Scry us again in a couple of weeks to see if we have yet decided where to go after. But you had best contact Eragon, because hopefully I will be on my honeymoon by then." She turned to Arya. "During what time of day is Hanin least likely to interrupt your alone time with your dashing husband?"

Arya laughed, and was again joined by Willow when they noticed Maehrí's shocked expression and deep blush. Hanin bit his lip to keep himself from also laughing at Maehrí's reaction.

Arya quickly said, "Midmorning might be your best bet, Hanin, though I really can't make any guarantees. If no one else is around, that's always the first thing on my mind, no matter what time of day it is."

Hanin couldn't help but chuckle as he said, "I will be sure to remember. Midmorning, two weeks from today, contact Eragon. It has been a pleasure as always, Willow. I miss you, sister. And you too, Arya."

Arya nodded, and Willow said, "I miss you too, Hanin. But neither of us will be lonely, now will we?" She winked then airily added, "Good luck, Maehrí! It was wonderful meeting you! I look forward to the time we can meet in person! Have fun, brother." She suggestively exaggerated her last words, knowing Hanin would understand. He grinned again, bidding them farewell before ending his spell.

Willow and Arya looked at each other and burst out laughing at the same moment. "He likes her!" Willow cried. "Already!"

"So it would appear. And can you blame him? She is gorgeous."

"But that wouldn't be the only important thing to Hanin. She seemed very sweet and timid. I give him six months, if that. He doesn't stand a chance."

"You're probably right," Arya agreed. "They will be together every day for the next many months. If she is half as intelligent and kind as she is beautiful, then he will most likely fall hard."

"As will she," Willow confidently predicted. "Hanin is impossibly handsome. On top of that, he is everything else a man should be, just like all of the Riders."

"Did you ever fancy him?" Arya wondered. "You speak very highly of him."

"I speak highly of him because that's how I see him. But no, I never fancied him. I suppose the fact that he is nearly sixty years older than I seemed daunting at first. Perhaps you can relate to that, though in reverse. By the time Hanin came to the Isle, Varhog and I were such good friends that we spent nearly all of our time together. And as an elf, Hanin was the most advanced in his training of any of us. He was better with magic and fighting, and the ancient language is his native tongue, so he fell in more with the elves at first."

"When did that change?"

"It was gradual," Willow responded. "Since none of the other elves had dragons, Hanin automatically had to spend more time with us Riders when we did flying training. Vera became close with Sunset and Saphira. Saphira was thrilled when Sunset showed up. She was the first female dragon to hatch for a Rider after Saphira herself so they developed an immediate friendship and sisterhood. It was the same with Vera. Since Vera wanted to be with those other two, Hanin naturally started spending more time with me and Varhog. He helped me a lot with swordsmanship and magic. That's when I started training more earnestly with Blödhgarm to learn healing magic, since Hanin noticed my affinity for it and knew Blödhgarm was the most skilled healer of all the elves."

"Blödhgarm told me how accomplished you have become," Arya remarked. "He said you have a natural gift, thanks to your love for living creatures and your ability to communicate so well with those who are different from you. He thinks that helps you direct the healing in an innate way, whether you understand every particular about how cells should knit together or not. He believes that you are now more talented than I at healing."

"Really?" Willow cried. "He said that? I'm humbled. Perhaps I took such a liking to it because I realized that if I had only known magical healing a few years earlier, I could have saved those dearest to me from premature, painful deaths. If it is within my power, I will do all I can to keep innocent creatures from pain or death before their time."

"Willow, I'm so grateful to know you," Arya said. "I am surprised to admit it, but it really does feel like we are sisters. I have never felt such an immediate bond with someone, unless you count Fírnen, and that was magical."

Willow hugged her. "Thank you, Arya. That means the world to me. Even before I was a Rider, I longed for a sister. And after, I think the wish became almost desperate. All those men! I love them dearly, but we needed you there for so many reasons."

They stood and resumed their walk, arm in arm once again. They spoke of silly, whimsical, girlish things, giggling uncontrollably at times, just as one would expect of two sisters. When their significant others did not soon return, the two women made their way to the palace and asked around until they arrived in the kitchens. It only took a few smiles and words of appreciation for them to win a whole basketful of delicious food from the cooks. They retraced their steps back to the gardens and were then joined by Eragon and Varhog. The two couples picnicked on the grounds, each recounting their adventures of the day.

When they finished the meal, Willow stood and reached down for Varhog's hand. "Yelloweyes, will you come with me a moment? There's something I'd like to show you."

"Of course, Eartheyes," Varhog agreed, easily standing without her assistance, though he took her hand all the same.

"We will clean up here and take these dishes back to the kitchen," Arya offered. "Thank you for a wonderful morning, Willow."

"The pleasure was mine, sister," Willow replied with a happy smile. "I suppose we will meet you later for dinner." Arya nodded, remaining on the ground by Eragon's side.

Willow guided Varhog away from their friends toward the flower gardens. As they walked, she said, "Your meeting with Jeod sounded delightful! I'm glad you were able to spend some time with him."

"Yes, it was very enlightening," Varhog said. "Where are we going?"

"Here," Willow said, stopping in front of the exotic plant she and Arya had modified earlier that morning. "I wanted to show you these flowers. Have you ever seen them before?"

Varhog squatted to get a closer look. "No, Eartheyes. They're pretty in an odd sort of way."

Willow knelt beside him. "I thought they could be called Urgralgra because of their coloring and other features."

Varhog chuckled. "So they could. This one looks different." He reached up and ran his hand along one of the stems Arya and Willow had changed.

"Yes!" Willow cried. "Arya helped me come up with a spell to modify your bristles, and we practiced on these stems because of how closely they seemed to resemble your hide. But I have something to ask you. I thought it would be just as effective to make my own skin tougher. It doesn't seem fair to expect you to change for me, if I'm not prepared to reciprocate. I'm willing to be the one who changes so we will be compatible. What do you prefer?"

Varhog remained silent for a long while, staring at the flowers in front of them. Willow studied his profile, trying to understand what he might be thinking. She recognized his impassive expression as the façade he usually adapted to hide what he was really feeling, but he didn't make her guess much longer.

In a halting voice he finally replied, "You would change for me, Eartheyes?"

"Of course, my lo—" She stopped, smiling. "I was about to call you my love, Varhog. Isn't that interesting?"

Varhog glanced over at her. "You could say that," he allowed with a small smile, "though I might not use the word interesting." Then he put his arm around her and pulled her against him. With her face resting next to his chest, Willow heard the deep rumbling of his voice as he quietly said, "You're so amazing, Willow."

Willow's stomach fluttered nervously with the increasingly familiar feeling of longing she had been experiencing around Varhog. "Thank you, Varhog. Perhaps even more interesting than the fact that I nearly referred to you as my love is that I have been feeling a repeated and unmistakable yearning for you. What do you make of that?"

Varhog shrugged, his amusement apparent in another deep-chested rumbling sound. "My instinct is that you are toying with me because the idea that you long for me as I long for you is ridiculous, but I know you aren't like that. You always speak the truth, which I love about you. It makes me hope we will soon fly for my village because if you are being honest, then I . . . it makes waiting harder."

"Why would it be any more ridiculous that I long for you than the other way around?" Willow demanded. "We have already established that the general feelings of each of our races toward one another are the same—revulsion, loathing, animosity. So is it any harder to imagine a human desiring an Urgal than it is to picture an Urgal desiring a human?"

Varhog was clearly at a loss. "I . . . I just never get accustomed to how accepting and unprejudiced you are," he said in amazement. "You're always able to see the other point of view, which is so uncommon but so beautiful. I'm still trying to get it through my very thick skull, literally, that you have accepted me."

Willow laughed at his joke and reached up to touch one of his horns, repeating the same action she had performed at their first meeting in a perfect demonstration of the acceptance he meant.

In return, Varhog did what he had done on their first day flying from the Isle, lifting one hand and touching her lips. He left his fingers there a moment before moving his hand to her face.

Willow closed her eyes in contented acceptance of his touch, leaning her cheek into his hand. "For an Urgal, you really seem quite romantic, especially since you don't know you are being that way."

"I keep thinking it will help me understand why you are the way you are. You're so unique. I wish I could figure you out."

"You know you need never wonder, Varhog. All you need to do is ask, and I will answer as honestly as I always do."

"That wouldn't help," he insisted. "The very way you answer, always so honest and open and accepting, is precisely what makes you so unlike anyone I have ever met. But I'll try by repeating my question of earlier. Would you really be willing to change yourself like that for me?"

"Of course, my love," Willow said again, this time letting the endearment roll off her tongue as felt natural. Then she paused, considering it for a moment.

"But now that I say it all the way, it feels too much like copying," Willow observed. "That's Eragon's special way of referring to Arya. But I do want my own endearment for you, Yelloweyes. What shall it be?"

Varhog smiled. "Whatever feels natural to you, Eartheyes."

"How about sweetheart?" she suggested.

"If you wish. And thank you, Willow. That you are willing to change for me means more than I can possibly express, but I don't want you to. If Arya has come up with a way for you to modify my bristles enough that they won't hurt you, I prefer that. Then I will still feel myself and you will still be yourself. I love you just the way you are, in the same way that you somehow seem to love me as I am."

"That's what makes our love so special, Varhog. We're able to see the beauty of the other without letting our obvious differences come between us."

"You made it possible," he whispered. "I have never known a human—ever—to accept an Urgal as openly as you did me."

"Then I will be forever grateful that it is my nature to be open and accepting. See what I would have missed out on otherwise?" Varhog nodded. He seemed content to silently gaze at her face, so Willow playfully asked, "How about you, sweetheart? Are you going to come up with an endearment for me?"

"Eartheyes," Varhog immediately answered. "You will always be my Eartheyes. That nickname encompasses everything I love about you—because of how you teasingly first suggested it, because it represents your beautiful warm eyes that always communicate exactly what you think of me. Whenever I call you Eartheyes, remember that I'm calling you every endearment of which I am aware in the same breath."

Willow smiled blissfully. "Very well."

They remained where they were for another long while, speaking of this and that, until the shadows began to lengthen, whereupon they arose and made their way back to the palace to rejoin their friends for dinner.

-:-:-:-

A/N: The next chapter contains some mature love fluff.