19. Flying, Fighting, and Frills

The other Riders called their dragons, and soon all five of them were taking the Urgralgra high into the sky, which was how they spent the next several hours. Every passenger was thrilled by how exciting and freeing it was. Myrin was Willow's second flying companion, and Willow sat behind with her hands on her legs, not knowing where or how to reach around Myrin's large belly.

At one point, Myrin grasped her hands and placed them on an area of her distended womb, where Willow was amazed to feel the baby moving about, stretching within the tight confines of its world. Myrin turned carefully so the horn on that side of her head wouldn't bash into Willow's face, smiling at the amazing confirmation of life within her. Willow felt dumbfounded and immensely gratified that Myrin shared it with her. She mouthed her thanks, which Myrin seemed to understand.

Once the flights were over, the sun was beginning its daily masterpiece of painting the sky with the breathtaking colors that had inspired Sunset's name. The Urgals and their visitors returned to the village square to once again partake of the feast, which had been left out for that very reason.

Willow tried not to let her impatience show as their hosts insisted on many contests of strength and daring. Varhog was expected to participate in them, and Willow decided that watching his magnificent body must be her consolation. Then, at the request of almost all present, Willow was compelled to stand and face her mate to reenact the moment of that morning's triumph. She had no desire to cause Varhog pain, but at least this would mean she could touch him.

Before they began, Willow approached Varhog, stopping right in front of him. His body was hot and sweaty from his exertion in the contests. She could feel and smell it, and it made her heart pound. Looking up into his face, she earnestly pleaded, "Can we go after this?"

"There is one final custom after this," Varhog said. "But then we'll go."

"Will it take long?" Willow worried.

"Not long, Eartheyes," he promised.

Willow stared at his eyes a moment longer, feeling that any delay would be too long. Setting her face in resolve, she muttered, "Then let's get this over with." She swept her hair up into a knot at the back of her neck and secured it with a clip, reminding Varhog, "I'm letting go when you hit your knees."

Varhog nodded, and they backed away from each other, holding still and wishing the celebratory customs of the evening were already over. Finally Varhog sprang toward her, and Willow easily dodged to the side, though she would have rather let him catch her. She let him attempt a few more times before performing the graceful maneuver that ended with her on his back. She lay her cheek against his neck and listened to his pulse, not wanting to squeeze hard enough to cause him pain. Squeeze she did, however, for the enjoyment of their gracious hosts.

When Varhog fell to his knees, the crowd roared its approval and Willow loosened her grip without completely letting go, lowering her legs and stepping around in front of him. His face was level with her chest, their height difference reversed with him on his knees. She slid her hands around the back of his head and into his hair, pressing his face to her chest and resting her forehead between his horns. "Enough," she breathed. "Let this be finished, Varhog. I can't wait any longer."

-:-:-

Varhog was still gasping for breath and suddenly his face was pressed to Willow's chest where he could hear her heart pounding and smell her so close. Not here! he thought to himself. Not with everyone around! He grabbed Willow around the waist and forced her back so he could stand without hurting her neck.

Without looking at Willow's eyes, for he knew he would lose control if he did, Varhog took her hand and walked swiftly to his mother, tersely saying, "Mother, Myrin, I present my new mate. I'll be waiting for her in ten minutes outside your hut."

Varhog dropped Willow's hand, but she immediately grabbed his again in both of hers, crying, "I have to leave you now? Varhog . . ." she trailed off, and Varhog could hear that she was close to tears, though he still didn't look at her. "I can't," she finished.

"Ten minutes, Eartheyes. That's all they have with you. Normally this would take hours. It's important to them."

Willow tried to object, but Varhog pulled his hand free and sprinted away.

-:-:-

Willow stood in despairing shock as she watched his back, continuing to face the direction Varhog had run as Myrintuk and Myrin pulled her away. "What's going on?" Willow faintly asked as they approached a hut.

Myrintuk answered, "This is a beloved tradition that takes place after the wedding ceremony joins a ram and his mate. The bride goes with the females of the ram's family, and they help her clean and dress in preparation for her wedding night. It is symbolic of accepting her into their family. Varhog will be back soon, Willow. We wish we had more time with you, but we can make up for it later. It's clear you two are desperate to be with each other."

Willow nodded mutely, trying not to seem as disappointed as she felt. They entered the hut, where it was clear the necessary things had been readied in advance. Myrintuk and Myrin swiftly let down her hair, removed her clothing, and helped her into a warm bath. Willow couldn't deny that it felt amazing and welcome after the traveling, fighting, and flying of the day. She was covered in layers of dirt, sweat, and grime and had to admit this was a nice gesture. Myrintuk offered her a cloth and sweet-smelling soap, which she accepted and used to wash her body, while Myrin washed her hair. Then they helped her out, and she dried off.

Myrintuk presented Willow with a lovely, lavender-colored silk dress, and Willow wasn't sure how they had managed, but the dress appeared to be a perfect fit. It was long-sleeved, floor-length, and fitted through the bust and waist. The dress laced up the front from her navel to her breasts, leaving a provocative opening that allowed her skin to show underneath. The neckline swooped dangerously low, revealing the upper curve of her bosom.

"How did you get this the right size when you only met me today?" Willow wondered in amazement as she tightened the laces.

"It was the dress made for my Preparing the Bride ritual," Myrin answered. "All we had to do was trim a few inches off the bottom. The laces allow it to fit anyone with a similar enough build. I wore it for Tarhvek as long as I could after we were married, but I got pregnant right away and have been either pregnant or breastfeeding ever since, so I never used it after the first few months. It's yours now, Willow."

"Thank you," Willow breathed. "It's stunning."

"It is long-sleeved for the season," Myrintuk explained, "since you are a fall bride. A spring or summer bride would be in short sleeves. The fit emphasizes your comely shape, which will please your new mate. The laces reveal some of your body to excite his passion, though that is rarely necessary. Our time already runs short, Willow. Do you have any questions about what's about to happen between you and Varhog?"

"Only this. Why can't it be happening already?"

Myrintuk smiled approvingly and Myrin, who was drying and brushing her hair, laughed.

Myrintuk then said, "I'm glad you're so excited for this, Willow, and that you seem to have no shame or reluctance. That is the way we Urgralgra feel about intimate love. It's one of the most beautiful experiences you will ever have, and it will solidify the bond between you and Varhog. Be prepared for how powerful it is. Love between two Urgralgra—or in your case, with one—is not something to be trifled with."

Willow couldn't hide her surprise, but before she could voice a question, Myrin muttered in frustration, "We don't have enough time, mother! Her hair will still be wet and make her cold."

"I can help with that," Willow offered, and she murmured the spell for drying her hair.

Myrin exclaimed in amazement as water dripped to the floor between them and began her work again. "We'll put your hair back up, but only so you can let it down in front of Varhog," she said. "It's thought to be very appealing. He'll appreciate it."

Myrintuk must have noticed Willow's surprise, for as she took one of Willow's hands to quickly clean and groom her fingernails, she asked, "Willow, why did you look surprised before?"

"Because of what you said about intimate love being powerful. It reminded me of how Varhog once described it. He's of the mind that intimate love is different for Urgals than other races—not as much an expression of love or passion as a fulfillment of the instinct to mate and produce children."

Myrin groused, "Varhog is a fool if he thinks that." In a softer tone she added, "Varhog would have learned the truth if he hadn't always been content to be by himself. He didn't think he would find a mate, though he was eligible and plenty of females desired him. None interested him. Not that he was arrogant. It must have been that he just wanted someone different. Much different, obviously. He would engage in fighting and training with the other rams but would take his leave after. The mated rams often talk of this with the younger males so they'll be prepared and know about precautions they should take. The females prepare the younger generation in a similar manner. But the topic is rarely discussed when both genders are present unless all have mates, then they will very likely converse openly. In private, mates talk very freely of it, unless they're simply acting it out."

Myrin ended with an indulgent laugh. "Which reminds me. Since the festivities took so long, I'm glad Varhog didn't give us much time. Tarhvek will be anxious for me to return. We try every night to encourage this baby to come, Willow. Intimate expressions of love can sometimes begin labor once the baby is fully developed and ready to be born." She laughed again, handing Willow a toothbrush and paste to clean her mouth.

Willow gratefully accepted and began using them. Myrin's explanation surprised her, but she thought she could understand, given how powerful Varhog's longing seemed to be, not to mention her own. She then felt even more excited and was relieved when she heard the sharp rap at the door indicating Varhog's arrival. She quickly finished her job, setting the brush on the table and rinsing her mouth.

Myrintuk and Myrin both stopped what they were doing and turned Willow to look in a long mirror set up specifically for this purpose, as far as Willow could tell. She raised her eyebrows in surprise at her reflection, which looked seductively feminine. Her figure was profoundly obvious under the light, silky fabric of the dress. The crisscrossed laces down the front ended below her navel, suggestively hinting at more, whereas the neckline left very little to the imagination. The lower two-thirds of her breasts were scantily covered by material and pressed against the thin silk, all curves visible. With her hair up and so much skin showing around it, her neck looked long and graceful. The dress hugged the outer edges of her shoulders, baring her whole collarbone and a deep curve of her upper back. Willow smiled in delight, already able to picture how her appearance would affect Varhog.

"He has never seen me like this," she shared. "It's going to be hard for him."

Myrin smirked. "That's the idea."

Myrintuk said, "He won't want to be kept waiting."

"Nor I," Willow earnestly added. "Thank you. I look forward to resuming this conversation after I've experienced this blissful union. Where is he taking me?"

"We'll let him tell you," Myrintuk said, leading her toward the door. A look of concern crossed her face, and she quickly added, "Remind Varhog to be gentle. If he's not fully expecting the power of this experience, he could very easily hurt you. Our strongest rams learn to be careful so as not to hurt their mates, but Urgralgra bones are thicker and injuries are rare." As they reached the door, she finished, "Enjoy yourselves, my daughter."

Willow smiled as Myrin opened the door, turning her eyes to Varhog as soon as he was visible. From the way his wet hair glistened in the moonlight, Willow could see that he had also washed himself and changed into clean clothing. She thought him handsomer than ever.

Varhog returned her smile, apologizing, "Sorry I'm late. I was really smelly." Then he laughed and let his eyes leave her face. They widened in amazed disbelief as he caught sight of her dress and the extent of what it revealed. He cleared his throat and opened his mouth as if to speak, but apparently changed his mind and closed it. Willow could see that he tried to look back at her face, though he wasn't quite successful. His eyes were fixated on the bare skin of her neck, shoulders, back, and especially her bosom. She blushed at the unrepressed hunger in Varhog's eyes, and Myrin laughed at him.

"We only just finished," Willow reassured him, trying to get his attention back. With great effort Varhog raised his eyes to her face, then he glanced behind her toward his mother and sister.

"Thank you," he whispered. "She's magnificent." His mother nodded, handing him a large basket covered with a cloth.

"You will find that it has been prepared for you to stay many days," Myrintuk said. This seemed to make sense to Varhog, and he nodded.

With a sly grin Myrin said, "Enjoy yourself, brother. Don't come back until you're ready. We understand." As an afterthought she added, "Though I'll notify you if the baby decides to make its appearance. I want you both to be there."

"Thank you," Varhog repeated, looking back at Willow and keeping his eyes on her face, though she could see that they begged him to look down again. He switched the basket to his other hand and reached out. "Shall we?"

Willow nodded, taking his hand in both of hers and stepping to his side so his arm ran the length of the laced opening on her dress. Though his shirt had long sleeves, Varhog clearly noticed and began walking away from his mother's hut into the trees.

After a minute Willow asked, "Where are we going?"

Varhog looked over at her, allowing his eyes to skim downward for a moment. "To my hut," he answered.

"What do you mean 'your hut'?"

"The hut I built when I turned twenty-one," Varhog replied.

"You can't expect me to be satisfied with that, Varhog," Willow said in playful exasperation.

"I'm sorry, Eartheyes," he apologized. "You look so breathtaking that I'm having a . . . difficult . . . time remembering how to walk."

Willow smiled impishly, and Varhog barked a short laugh before elaborating, "When an Urgal ram turns twenty-one, which is the age he becomes eligible to take a mate, he builds a hut for himself and his mate to live in whenever he ends up marrying. I built mine with no intention of using it, since it's expected of us. The summer after I finished, Black Thunder hatched for me, and I raised him here for the most part. I always enjoyed solitude, which is why it's so far from the village. But that all changed when I met you. Then I never wanted to be alone."

Willow smiled again. "So you built this hut we're going to?"

"Yes, with my own hands. I hope you find it acceptable. It's yours now. Ours. Our home, whenever we stay here."

"What a lovely custom," Willow said. "I love everything I learn about the Urgralgra, Yelloweyes. Your culture is so family oriented. Myrin mentioned something interesting when I was with them just now."

"Is that so?" Varhog said with noticeable apprehension.

Willow laughed at his discomfort. "Yes, it is so. They warned me about the power of this experience we're about to have together. I was surprised, and they noticed. I shared your perception of intimate love as being less powerful for Urgals than other races. Your sister called you a fool for thinking that. She said you would have learned the truth if you hadn't been so solitary. Are you nervous that you might not be prepared for the truth, whatever it is?"

"I'm not nervous to be with you, Eartheyes," Varhog said with utter certainty. "I have no doubt my sister spoke truly. The feelings I have felt for you the past several weeks have been potent enough in and of themselves—even more so than what they were before—and I already admitted to you that for many years now I have longed for you so deeply that it's almost painful. It has forced me to accept that the expression of those feelings is going to be powerful indeed."

Varhog glanced back at her with a rueful expression. "I'm sorry about before, by the way, after our last fight, when I wouldn't look at you. I was completely unprepared to have my face pressed to your bosom," he explained, his eyes flashing down to it, "where I could hear your heartbeat and smell you in such a tempting way. I almost lost control right in front of everyone. I would have if I had looked at your eyes and discovered even a fraction of the passion that was in your voice. Here we are," he finished as they came to a clearing in the trees where a modest hut stood. "My mother told me they prepared it for our stay. In all the years I was gone, it has been empty. I hope it won't seem too barren."

Willow found the cottage quaint and whimsical. "I'm sure I'll love it, Varhog. Especially knowing you built it for us with your own hands, even though you didn't think there would ever be an 'us' at the time."

"How happy I am I was wrong," Varhog said, suddenly sweeping her into his arms.

Willow cried out in surprise, and Varhog grinned at her, but he couldn't suppress the deep longing in his eyes as they fell on her scantily clad form. Willow glanced down to see that her new position forced her breasts even further out of the dress.

"You're so beautiful, Willow," Varhog muttered. "Let's go in."