16. Mother

All present began to make their way back to the village. The Urgals regarded Willow with cautious admiration, moving around her and Varhog at a deferent distance, though she wished they wouldn't. Varhog never released her hand, which gratified her.

As they walked, Willow asked, "Was that your mother? The female you greeted after Yarbog?"

"Yes," Varhog said.

"May I meet her?" Willow hopefully requested. "My mother died when I was five, as you know. Your mother would be my mother-in-law according to human customs. How do Urgals view such things?"

"The sire and dam of one's mate become even as their own, thereby giving them two sets of parents, as it were."

"Really? How lovely!" Willow gushed before adding in concern, "But what will she think of me? I mean, it takes some people longer than five minutes to overcome generations' worth of hate and bias."

"Aye," Varhog said with love in his eyes as he looked down at her. "And it takes exactly one person to win the heart of everyone she meets with her complete lack of hate and bias. She will love you, Willow, as I do, if not more in her way for bringing me the happiness you have. Such is the nature of a good mother, and she is the best."

Willow was touched by the way Varhog spoke of his mother with such praise and tenderness. He then said, "I suppose I'm lucky I was the first Urgal ram you ever met. All would have undoubtedly come to have feelings for you. Your pull is irresistible, your courage and strength so admirable."

Willow smiled skeptically. "No, surely not! You are unique in your own right, at least in my eyes, though I have few to compare you with. Grintuk, really. And now Garzhvog. I like you best. And I only came to have this admirable strength because of your patient instruction and encouragement." She gave him a warm smile, which he returned, the tender look in his eyes deepening.

When Varhog said no more, Willow impatiently pressed, "Well? Can I meet her, then? Your mother? I mean now?"

Varhog's deep chuckle vibrated through her where their arms were touching. "Yes, I suppose she is also anxious to meet you." He guided Willow in the right direction, and the crowd parted for them unbidden. He quickly reached his mother's side and bowed to her in a greeting Willow had not yet witnessed, placing the hand not holding Willow's on her arm. "Mother," he said with deep love, "I want you to meet Willow, my chosen mate. She was anxious to be introduced."

The noble Urgal calmly looked at Willow, an indecipherable expression in her eyes. She was taller than Willow by many inches, perhaps just a handful shy of Varhog's height, though she was slenderer. Her hair was graying but still thick and shining. She was strong and proud. Willow recognized many of Varhog's features as gifts from his mother—his straight nose, full mouth, and wavy hair. She was performing a similar exam of Willow. Unsure what the proper greeting was in this instance, Willow remained silent and held her chin up in friendship to Varhog's mother, which was necessary to look at her anyway.

Finally the woman spoke in a deep, melodic tone with a comfortable command of the common tongue. "Willow." Her voice was warm, and there were creases around her eyes, evidence of many years of deep joy and pain. "My surprise was great when my son announced his desire to have you as his mate, but I didn't feel as my brother. I know the heart of my son and that he wouldn't bestow his affection on one unworthy to receive it. I knew you must have earned his regard and you have proven it is so. He could not have chosen a nobler woman, and I welcome you to our family."

Tears sprang to Willow's eyes. She blinked in surprise at the deep emotions running through her. It already felt like this Urgal was a mother to her, and she hadn't felt a mother's love in so many years. She clasped her hands together and bounced on her toes, anxiously thinking to Varhog, Can I hug her? That is what I long to do, but I don't want to cause offense.

The deep love in Varhog's thoughts was what she thought she had heard when he addressed his mother. Be yourself, Willow, he encouraged. I'm interested to see what she does.

Willow needed no further prompting. She stepped forward, slipping her arms around Varhog's mother and pressing her face against her in a fervent embrace.

"Thank you," Willow whispered. "That means so much to me, I can't even tell you. My own mother died when I was five, and I haven't felt the way I just now felt for so long that I had forgotten how much I even missed it. When Varhog told me you would be like a mother to me once he and I marry, it filled my heart with joy. Thank you for your amazing son. I'm so honored he wants me, and I will always strive to be worthy of him."

At Willow's equally touching speech, Varhog's mother displayed similarly unexpected emotions. She put her arms around Willow from where they had initially stayed by her side and began stroking her hair in a blissfully tender expression. Willow felt like she was five again and snuggled in the protective circle of her mother's arms. The women stayed like that for some time, and it filled an empty part of Willow's soul with such warmth that she radiated it by the time Varhog's mother slowly dropped her hands.

Willow stepped back, simply glowing with happiness.

Varhog's mother spoke to him. "She is so warm and vibrant, son," she approved, identifying some of the same characteristics that had first impressed Varhog. "She is strong and brave, open and honest. I will come to find her as beautiful as I know you do. You will be very happy together, and she will give you many fine children. You have chosen well."

Varhog released Willow's hand so he could clasp his mother's in both of his own. "Thank you, mother. I'm glad you approve. She is the most amazing woman I have ever known after you. You will see what I mean."

Varhog's mother regarded him with pride and adoration. "I missed you, my son, all those years you were gone. My life is full of children and grandchildren, but my heart always felt an empty ache and wished you could be here. I am glad you have visited, that you are so grown and improved, and that you will now enter into the greatest happiness you will ever know of being the mate of a noble female and the sire of joyful children."

Willow's surprise at this second mention of children was the same as it had been at the first. Varhog's mother seemed so certain. Willow was also amazed at the deep sense of family the Urgals had. They seemed to view it as the greatest accomplishment and happiness one could achieve. She found herself loving Varhog's people more and more with every new thing she learned about them.

Varhog took Willow's hand again, and Willow took his mother's hand, standing between them. They started walking again, and Willow asked, "How are your children doing . . . um, ma'am?"

Varhog's mother smiled. "My name is Myrintuk, though you may call me mother if it pleases you. It would please me. You may have noticed that my brother, Garzhvog—though he is actually the birth brother of my deceased mate—and my sons Yarbog and Varhog all have names ending with 'og'. We Urgralgra sometimes do this to show family ties. My mate's name was also Yarbog. Our eldest son bears his sire's name. You may recognize in my name an ending found in the other Urgal Dragon Rider's name, even 'tuk'. I'm from a different clan by birth—the Delvhtuk clan of Anghelm—which is the same as Grintuk's. That my mate and I joined was an uncommon thing. There is often fierce enmity between Urgralgra clans. My rebellion in joining with someone my clan didn't approve of must be something that can be passed to the next generation, as Varhog appears to have inherited it." Varhog smiled at his mother over Willow's head, but Willow glanced up and saw it.

Myrintuk continued, "Of course, not all members of a clan have names with the same ending, but if they do, it's often an indication of clan or family ties." She paused. "I'm sorry. I never answered your question, did I? And here I have been giving you a boring lesson in Urgralgra naming traditions."

"No," Willow protested, squeezing her hand. "It's not boring at all! Tell me anything you want about your ways, mother!" Her smile at being able to say "mother" was radiant. "I would love to learn as much as I can. I must know if I'm to teach them to our children." This she said with another delighted smile. "You seem very sure such a thing will be. Why is that?"

Myrintuk smiled warmly, giving Varhog a charmed look over Willow's head. Willow could see that Varhog couldn't have prepared for how quickly she was working her mysterious magic on his mother.

"I just feel it," Myrintuk said in reply. "Though there is no evidence from previous experience, since you and Varhog are the first Urgal and human couple to form, it seems that offspring from such a union would be possible. You are tall and strong for a human and would be able to bear an Urgralgra cub with no difficulty. They are not so much larger than a human cub, I would imagine, and our horns don't begin to grow until early adolescence. Although I do wonder if your children would grow horns, with you as their mother. Only time will tell, I suppose. They will be some beautiful combination of the two of you, that much is certain."

"Why do you call them cubs?" Willow wondered. "Those in this crowd don't appear much different from human children."

"Simply a term that hearkens to our somewhat more animalistic appearance, even as ram."

"I see. I'm thrilled at the thought of being a mother and having Varhog's children. Firesword's mate, Arya, is with child, and we thought it would be wonderful to have children close together so they could be friends and we could be new mothers together. Though I suppose we must often bring them here to meet their grandmother, aunts, uncles, and cousins. Do you say 'grandmother' and the other terms the same as humans?"

"Yes, or granddam or grandsire. But both work, and the others are the same."

Willow's eyes saddened somewhat. "I'm sorry about the passing of your mate, though I don't know if such condolences are appreciated by the Urgralgra. From what little Varhog has told me, he was proud, brave, and fierce and devotedly loyal to you and your family, which isn't hard for me to imagine, given how like Varhog that is. He must have had a great example in his sire."

Myrintuk's eyes grew misty. "Condolences are not as often expressed, but they are nonetheless appreciated. To die in battle is the most honorable death for an Urgralgra ram, especially if in the defense of his family. But knowing that his passing was honorable does nothing to lessen the pain of his absence. Yarbog was a loyal and loving mate, a wise and caring sire. I loved him, and I miss him. That our sons have grown to be as he was is the greatest honor they could show me. Though the two you have met are not Kull, as was my mate Yarbog, I see in them their sire and know he too would be proud.

"When we learned of Galbatorix's treachery and coercion, all of the women who lost their mates were furious beyond imagining, especially once it became clear that his intention was to kill off the rams so he could more easily sweep through our villages and destroy the innocent women and children. Many of the widows joined the ranks of the fighting rams, bent on vengeance. Many of our sons also went to war to defeat the king. Lady Nightstalker and Firesword are the most highly honored humans among the Urgralgra for their roles in defying and defeating the lack-horned betrayer. I'm sure you will soon be esteemed as greatly, as mate of our first Dragon Rider." She fell silent.

"Varhog has told me of his large family and that he has seven siblings. I've always been slightly envious, since my younger brother died when I was ten."

"Your mother and brother have died?" Myrintuk asked. "What about your sire?"

"He died when I was fifteen. One death every five years of my life. It was awful. But Varhog and I became friends right away when I went to the Isle. I may not have told him this, but I believe he saved my life. I felt little desire to live at the time. Even my bond with Sunset—my dragon—as new as it was, wasn't enough to draw me out of the deep depression and loneliness I felt. But we needn't dwell on that right now. How are your children and grandchildren doing? Right before we left the Isle, Varhog mentioned that he hadn't spoken with you in some time. Has Myrin had her cub yet?"

"No, not yet," Myrintuk replied, clearly surprised that Willow was so knowledgeable. "She is due any day. She is most anxious to see Varhog again, though she didn't leave the village to come out here because of how far along she is. It's uncomfortable to stand for long periods, though no one would have expected all of the fighting we witnessed. I worry about her reaction to you. She and Varhog were the closest, and the instinctive response of any of our race to what you intend is shock and outrage."

Willow looked anxious. "Oh dear. I suppose this is something we will face for a long time yet, if not forevermore, isn't it, Yelloweyes? You feared as much, which is why you delayed in expressing your feelings to me."

Before Varhog could reply, his mother asked in a mildly affronted manner, "Yelloweyes? What does this mean?"

Varhog explained, "When Willow first came to the Isle, Firesword introduced her to everyone. I was the last one in line and everyone wandered off—no one was particularly impressed with Willow. Before Firesword could even say anything, she immediately touched one of my horns. She was shorter and thinner then and seemed so frail, but she was totally fearless. Her curiosity was so innocent and pure. She asked if I could feel it, and I said no. Then she told me she had never met an Urgal and asked why my skin was gray and my eyes yellow. She was so wholly unlike anyone I had ever met, and I soon remembered that I had seen her once before, after the Varden took Feinster. Though it lasted only a moment, we each remembered the brief glance because of how she smiled at me. She must have been only twelve or so, but she stared straight at me with no fear and smiled as broadly as she could.

"The first thing I noticed about her besides her smile, mother, was how warm and vibrant her eyes and hair were. They reminded me of rich earth ready to grow something. I told her as much, for her honesty inspired a similar response from me, which was surprising. She suggested I call her 'Eartheyes,' and though she was only teasing—to think, a small human girl teasing an enormous, intimidating Urgal ram she had only just met—the idea instantly appealed to me. I loved her eyes from the very beginning. In them I could see that she didn't see me as a monster, that she accepted me as a person, and that she was open to being my friend. So I offered in return that if Willow would allow me to call her Eartheyes, she could call me 'Yelloweyes,' since she had noticed them right off. She accepted but worried it might offend me. I assured her it wouldn't. I had been called far worse things by the dwarven Rider, Knilf, whom I still despised and he me. Ever since then, those have been our nicknames for one another. Little did she know that every time I called her Eartheyes, I was telling her how much I cared for her in my secret way."

"I thought you didn't come to realize your feelings until sometime later," Willow interrupted. "Didn't they start to appear after I first defeated you?"

"That was the most defining moment, but they were there before, if I'm honest with myself, which I know you would expect. Even Firesword and Murtagh still held biases toward my race when they first met me, though they overcame them in time. No human, Willow, not one, has ever met an Urgal and accepted him like you did me without any prejudice, fear, or expectation of violence. I have come to see that it was enough to immediately intrigue me, especially when I realized you were the same human girl I had seen in Feinster and thought about curiously nearly every day after. In retrospect, it seems we were supposed to meet. And when you just continued to grow and amaze me in every single thing you did, the feelings only deepened. When you defeated me, my humiliation was complete but so too was my irrevocable regard for you."

Myrintuk said, "It is lovely to hear these things, my son. I feel I can understand something of what you went through at that time. This woman you have chosen is as a breath of fresh air on the old, stale enmity between our races."

Varhog nodded, continuing, "To answer your question, Willow, I do believe we will always face surprise and disapproval when people unacquainted with our history learn about our relationship. I'll never let any harm come to you from it."

"I know, sweetheart," she said. "I'm so excited to finally meet your family! One of my wishes—or another of them, since my first was that I would marry you—will come true today. Let me see how well I can remember their names. Yarbog, Myrin, Nay . . . oh dear. Is that how it starts?"

"Aye, Eartheyes. Naynuk." He smiled at her.

"Naynuk," she repeated. "The next is a brother, and his name starts with a 'B', but I can't remember it. I know the youngest sister is Breetuk, and I'm sure you have told me the names of the other brother and sister, but I can't seem to remember them right now."

A very tall young female walking behind them suddenly spoke up. "I'm Breetuk," she said. "I'm not surprised that Varhog rarely mentioned those other two. I always was his favorite." She giggled.

Willow stopped and turned when she heard the voice behind her. "Breetuk! I'm so happy to meet you! You must be Kull." Willow laughed. "That was a really obvious statement. Varhog is already so much taller than I am that it always takes me by surprise to meet someone even taller than he. You must be only a few inches shorter than Grintuk."

"Grintuk?" Breetuk wondered. "Oh, yes. The other Urgal Dragon Rider. He's Kull. I had nearly forgotten." She smiled when Willow gave her a cheerful embrace. "I'm happy to meet you too, Willow. That was the most amazing thing I've ever seen back there. Never thought I'd see someone take down Uncle Garzhvog. Yvenna couldn't believe it."

"Yvenna?" Willow repeated.

"Oh, sorry. Yvenna's our cousin, Garzhvog's only daughter."

"I see," Willow replied. Before she could greet the other two young adult Urgals standing beside Breetuk, Varhog moved over to Breetuk and swept her into a tight embrace.

"Bree!" Varhog exclaimed. "I grew five inches in my time away, but you must have grown nearly two feet. Look how much taller you are than I! Nearly eight inches!"

"I know!" Breetuk agreed. "Thanks to father, no doubt. I missed you so much, Varhog," she fervently added, squeezing her older brother as tightly as she could. "I never understood why you couldn't come back for a visit, but I'm so glad you're here now!"

Varhog laughed. "Here's the reason," he said, stepping away from Breetuk and putting his arm around Willow's shoulders. "She obviously never forced me to stay away, but I didn't want to leave her there."

Willow smiled up at Varhog, and he leaned down to kiss the top of her head. Then Willow turned her attention to the female and male Urgals next to Breetuk, immediately noticing the resemblance between the ram and Varhog. He grinned at her when she studied him a moment, and Willow returned the smile.

"You look exactly like Varhog," she commented.

"No!" he teasingly replied. "I'm far handsomer."

Willow giggled. "You know I would never agree to that. You must be the youngest brother. I'm sorry I don't remember your name."

"I'm Raygog," he replied, bashing his fists to his forehead.

Willow started slightly when he bashed his forehead, then she laughed, exactly as she had when Garzhvog had paid her the same tribute. "Well, thank you for not butting heads with me. It's nice to meet you, Raygog. I'm afraid the customary human greetings might not be to your liking. A hand shake? Or a hug?"

Raygog answered her by crushing her into a tight embrace. "I'll take a hug any day from the woman who can subdue the two strongest rams I know," he said, releasing her quickly at Varhog's warning look but grinning nonetheless. "So Varhog never mentioned me, then? I guess I never was much more than a punching bag to him."

Willow giggled again, and Varhog chortled. "That's what younger brothers are good for," he joked.

"So I've heard," Raygog ruefully said. "But I wouldn't know. I never had a younger brother to pick on and father wouldn't let me bother Trayin or Bree. Finally taking a mate then, old ram? I guess there's hope for anyone, even those as ugly as you." He snickered, trying to duck away from Varhog's one-armed stranglehold but not even coming close to dodging him.

Varhog only mussed his hair before quickly releasing him with a good-natured laugh. "I can see how jealous you are, Raygog. For Willow, I would have waited another hundred years, and we will both live far longer than that, so it's no exaggeration. And I mentioned you all. Willow is exceedingly curious. I simply haven't spoken your name recently, so she didn't remember."

"You would have once pounded me into the ground for a comment like that," Raygog observed in surprise. "Can I thank your training as a Dragon Rider or Willow's calming influence?"

"Both," Varhog replied. "Aren't you old enough to think about taking a mate now, Raygog? I would guess you're not as solitary as I was."

"No. You still hold that record, brother." A strange yearning look crossed Raygog's face. "I doubt I will be taking a mate anytime soon, Varhog." He quickly changed the subject. "Willow, let's not leave out our other youngest sister. This is Trayin." Raygog put his arm around the shoulders of the female standing between him and Breetuk.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Trayin," Willow sincerely said. "I'm so thrilled to be joining such a large family!" She gave Trayin an embrace but quickly dropped her arms when Trayin seemed reluctant to reciprocate.

"Sorry," Willow apologized. "I forget that such greetings are more customary between humans who are good friends. Here I am a human you have only just met, and that after learning I was the reason Varhog remained away for nearly ten years."

Varhog shook his head at Willow's remorseful manner. "Don't apologize, Willow. You aren't to blame. I chose to stay away. First because I didn't want to leave you alone when our friendship seemed so important to you. Then, in time, I wanted to bring you with me, but I worried that my family and people might not accept you. I'm sorry, Trayin. This must be a lot to accept after such a long absence. Can you forgive me?"

Trayin stepped forward and put one arm around his waist. "Yes, Varhog," she softly replied. "It was hard having you away so long, mostly because of how sad it made mother on top of already missing father. And we heard so little from you. We were dreadfully curious about your adventures and experiences as a Dragon Rider. Seeing Willow fight—especially Uncle Garzhvog—has had the same immediate effect on all of us that it must have had on you, but those who weren't here to witness that will have a really hard time accepting her, just as you worried. I'm thinking most specifically of Myrin, like mother said."

Varhog nodded sadly. "I fear you are right, Trayin. I hope in time you will all come to realize how unique and wonderful Willow is. If that takes some longer than others, I will accept full responsibility and insist their anger be directed toward me, not Willow."

Trayin then turned her attention to Willow. "I'm sorry if I seemed rude. I've always been shyer than Raygog and Bree. I am glad to meet you, Willow. Though it's strange to think of having a human for a sister, after seeing the way you can fight, it is also an honor."

"I appreciate that, though it must be hard for you to say," Willow said. "And I understand your sadness that Varhog stayed on the Isle all these years. I never meant to keep him away for so long. I honestly didn't know he loved me until about a month ago, nor did I even suspect such a thing until about a month before that. I also often wondered why he never returned home. As soon as I learned what a large family he has, I constantly begged to hear about what his life was like."

Willow looked up into the faces of the four tall Urgals in front of her, then turned her eyes to meet Varhog's grave expression. Wishing to lighten the mood, Willow commented, "I feel so short." Raygog, Trayin, and Myrintuk were all roughly the same height—about six inches taller than Willow—while Breetuk was far taller than any of them. "I suppose this is how the dwarves must always feel, don't you think, Yelloweyes? Although I guess you wouldn't understand."

Varhog smiled. "They probably do," he agreed. Apparently he also hoped to further move the conversation away from hard feelings toward Willow, for he then asked, "So how many nieces and nephews do we now have?"

Myrintuk, who had been observing her children carrying on—first with amusement, then in concern—answered, "Twelve. They are lively and happy and strong. They're so excited to meet their famous uncle and also long to see a dragon. Now they will be able to meet five."

Varhog grinned. "I'll take them all for their own ride. This news makes me happy indeed, mother. Willow and I will be delighted to add to your growing brood of grandchildren."

Willow agreed, "Yes, and I can't wait to meet the children! Let me try naming your siblings again. Yarbog—"

She stopped as Raygog snorted. "He'll not soon forget how you taunted him and how quickly you bested him," he said with a triumphant grin. "Nothing makes a tormented younger brother happier than seeing his tormentors put in their place. And by a female human, no less! I'm sure you could also bring down Bruntog without a problem, though he is Kull. But he's not as strong or tall as our uncle. Yarbog was once a better fighter than you, Varhog."

"Aye," Varhog agreed. "Things have changed, haven't they? Not that he had much hope. My bond with Black Thunder gives me much of my current advantage, and it's also the reason I grew so much after leaving. But for me to bring home a human female who can also best him? I'm sure that borders on unforgiveable." He turned to Willow to indicate that she should continue.

"After you is Myrin, then Naynuk. Then Bruntog, was it?" Varhog nodded. "And Raygog, Trayin, and Breetuk, of course."

"You can call me Bree," Breetuk said.

"Thank you!" Willow exclaimed with a bright smile. She looked around herself and realized they had finally arrived in the village, well hidden some distance into the trees.