41. Thrill of Battle

The wolves were still there, and they looked up in interest as Willow and Varhog reemerged. The dragons also watched. Willow and Varhog faced each other in the clearing that the two groups unintentionally formed between themselves. Willow smiled mockingly, as she had when facing Yarbog, and began casually sweeping her hair up into a knot to keep it out of her face.

Varhog lunged for her. Willow didn't budge, and he caught her with an exclamation of surprise as she laughed with her face against his chest.

"I thought you were goading me," he admitted. "I was sure you would sidestep me as easily as you always do. Leave it down," he finished, referring to her hair. "Please. I love the way it swirls around you when you move."

Her arms were still up—she hadn't been able to lower them, trapped as she was—so Willow released her hair, shaking it out with a flirtatious flip of her head. Then she wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him a moment. "I'm going to make love and war," she warned in a dangerous voice, a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"That should keep things interesting," Varhog allowed, returning her kiss before releasing her.

Willow entered her fighting mind, but only enough that she could dodge him when she wanted and still express emotion. Varhog lunged again, and she gracefully spun away, staying close enough to trail her fingers up his arm as he flew past her. He stopped himself, swinging for her. She ducked, shifting slightly and standing up right in front of him, whereupon he once again trapped her. Willow wrapped her arms around his waist, her face once more pressed into his chest, breathing deeply to smell him and listening to his heart pound. She gazed up at him, smiling coyly as he regarded her in exasperation.

"It's frustrating to know I can only do that when you let me," Varhog observed.

"Mm-hmm," Willow agreed. "But it should make you feel better that I am your willing prisoner until you see fit to release me. There's nothing I can do to escape your impossible strength once I'm lucky enough to be captive in your arms." She laughed, low and throaty, and Varhog seemed to decide that was a good moment to release her, before she provoked him even more.

Willow backed away, an inviting smile on her lips, and Varhog sprang forward once more. She danced even farther away, circling slightly so she wouldn't take them too near the wolves, who were attentively regarding the match, perhaps realizing that the human female wasn't as helpless as she appeared.

When Varhog next lunged, Willow caught his hand and spun herself into his arms as if he were performing a graceful dance maneuver. She ended with her back to his chest, and he grunted in surprise at her sudden location, still recovering from his attempt to catch her, which had been successful—just not as he expected. She began swaying back and forth as if they really were dancing, looking up over her shoulder at him.

"Nice move," she softly teased.

"You're making me crazy, Eartheyes," Varhog said, a tight grin on his face at her brash behavior.

"Hmm?" She widened her eyes in feigned innocence. "Me?" Then she laughed. "That's good, Yelloweyes. That's the whole idea." Varhog wasn't holding onto her and she spun away before he realized his mistake. He futilely reached after her, growling in frustration. She laughed at him to spur him on.

Varhog tried hard for the next little while, clearly intent on catching her when she didn't expect it. Willow sensed his shift to seriousness, so she also got more serious, though the teasing smile never left her face as she dodged him time and again.

After about fifteen minutes, they were sweating profusely in spite of the cold and snow. Willow continued her easy evasions, beginning at the same time to casually unbutton her coat. "It has gotten quite hot, don't you think?" she offhandedly commented, though her eyes revealed her true intention. She knew perfectly well that undressing in front of Varhog would stimulate him all the more.

"Eartheyes," Varhog warned.

"Why don't you take yours off too?" Willow invited, giving him another provocative smile as she reached the last button and shrugged out of the coat. "Getting some cool air might take the edge off your overheated state." She tossed her coat toward the door, and Varhog lunged, apparently hoping he would catch her in a moment of distraction. But Willow neatly stepped away just in time, right when he thought he had her, laughing delightedly at his frustration.

Now she was in her undershirt. She could see that Varhog hadn't expected her to have that on underneath and that he was somewhat relieved. With her arms down, an inch of her waist showed under the hem, so she stretched to increase the amount of revealed skin, twisting her body so her muscles would flex.

The shirt was sleeveless and had a high swoop around her neck. Unlike her lavender dress, it fully covered her chest, tightly hugging her bosom with a supportive layer of material. Though Willow was hot from their exercise, the cold still revealed the obvious curves of her breasts, and she laughed at Varhog's expression, savoring the fact that just seeing her made him want her.

Varhog lunged again, clearly desperate to close her in his arms so he wouldn't have to endure the temptation of her appearance, but Willow nimbly danced away.

"Why don't you just catch me, Yelloweyes?" she recklessly challenged.

Varhog growled and sprang for her.

Willow dodged before doing something she never had before, gaining inspiration from the previous day's fight with the wolves. She stepped right behind Varhog, mirroring his every move while holding onto his shirt as he twisted to reach for her. When he swung one arm around, she shifted to his other side so he couldn't reach. She laughed as he swiped and never caught her.

Willow yanked his shirt out of his pants, reaching her hands under it and wrapping her arms around to his chest, where she massaged for a moment. Varhog grunted in enjoyment and exasperation, trying to grasp her arms. But his shirt prevented him from getting a good grip and Willow removed her arms, backing away from him again.

As Varhog spun around to face her, Willow swirled her hair up off her neck, holding it to her head so her arms would flex and her waist would be exposed again. "You're going to have to do better than that," she playfully admonished.

Varhog roared in frustration, lunging for her in his most aggressive effort yet. When Willow finally let him catch her, releasing her hair at the same time so it would tumble all around him, he bowled her over, almost landing on her.

Varhog caught himself with one arm, holding her away from the ground with the other. She had wrapped her arms around his neck the moment she dropped her hair, and she held onto him with her face inches from his. A strand of hair stretched across it.

"See? All it took was a little determination," she slyly said, leaning forward to kiss him before pulling back. "I can see you need some more help with that shirt."

Since Varhog was holding her up with one arm, she released his neck, dragging her hands slowly around to the front of his body where she loosened the laces of his shirt until the gap at the top was completely open. Then she carelessly slid her hand through her hair to draw the strand off her face, opening her mouth in a sultry expression.

"Why do you delight in torturing me?" Varhog demanded in exasperation.

"I'm testing you, Yelloweyes," Willow purred, reaching forward again to languidly kiss his bare skin. "Remember, I can't leave until you let me." She murmured appreciatively, knowing it would drive him crazy, extending her tongue to taste the hollow of his neck and along his collarbone.

Varhog shuddered, and Willow warned, "I'm going to extend the test to my hands unless you let me go."

"That's blackmail!" Varhog accused.

"I'm using the only weapons at my disposal, sweetheart," Willow countered. "You could crush me in a heartbeat. I have to use kisses and caresses to bring you down." She then wrapped her legs around his waist, which wasn't hard to do, as he was holding his body in a straight line, supported on his feet and one hand.

Varhog huffed, "It's working pathetically well. I am completely at your mercy, whether you're in my arms or out of them."

Willow laughed triumphantly. "If you don't want it to end, keep me here," she hopefully invited, moving her hands down his body. Varhog must have sensed where she was headed because he abruptly put his knees down, sitting back over his ankles and letting her go at the same time so she sat on his lap.

Willow pouted in mock disappointment, though she was actually enjoying herself immensely. "I'll get that shirt off you yet," she promised, springing up and backing away a few paces.

But Varhog refused to give her the opportunity, for he jumped up and tore it off over his head, throwing it toward her coat. He flexed his muscles—all of the striations rippled and stood out in relief—bellowing loudly in an effort to relieve some of the unbearable tension she had provoked.

He was terrifying, but Willow wasn't afraid. She laughed wildly, feeling so powerful—she could avoid him as long as she wanted and still force him into submission when trapped in his arms. The next time Varhog lunged, she easily jumped on his back—which took him by surprise—assuming her stranglehold only momentarily before sliding her knees down and wrapping her legs around his body. She loosened her arms and began to run her fingers through his hair, scratching gently with her fingernails.

At this precise time, Sunset, who had been watching in amusement with Black Thunder, suddenly entered their minds with the welcome words, Arya wants me to tell you that the time for the treatment is over and you may go to their hut so she can check that it was successful.

Without further ado, Varhog began running as swiftly as he could toward Eragon and Arya's hut. Willow loosely held on around his neck, gently kissing the back of his neck in small circles.

"You seem intent on killing me," Varhog forced out in a strained voice. Willow only laughed, never stilling the movement of her lips.

When they reached the familiar hut, Willow jumped down and strode toward the door, yanking a section of her hair over each shoulder to hide her chest and grinning back over her shoulder as she did. Varhog started pacing.

Willow reached up, knocking firmly on the door, which Arya opened.

"That was fast. Oh, I can see why," she added as she caught sight of Willow's face and Varhog's pacing. "Well, come in right here. I can perform the test quickly."

As Arya backed up so Willow could step inside, her surprise at Willow's expression was obvious. Eragon was sitting on the sofa, and he greeted Willow as any gentleman would. Her eyes flashed to his face then promptly away as he recognized her look of passion.

Eragon raised his eyebrows as Willow muttered, "Sorry, brother," in mortified awkwardness. Outside, Varhog laughed, and Willow clenched her hands into fists.

"You had best hurry, my love," Eragon prompted Arya with an understanding laugh. "Put them out of their misery. What have you two been doing, anyway? You appear to be quite riled up."

"Fighting," Willow tersely replied in an undertone she knew they would hear, keeping her eyes fixed on the floor. The tension in the muscles of her abdomen, back, and arms was complete, and they stood out in clear relief under her shirt.

"Try to relax some and hold up your arm," Arya instructed.

Willow dutifully took a few deep breaths and, with each exhalation, relaxed some of the tautness in her muscles. She was noticeably less tense when she finished, but still stood tall and strong. She raised the arm closest to Eragon to hide her face somewhat.

"I will ask the questions mentally," Arya told Willow, "so you won't anticipate them and try to create the desired reaction." Willow's arm dipped four times in a row, followed by a very firm no, where her arm stayed strong.

Willow looked expectantly at Arya, hoping the expression on her face wouldn't be as alarming as when directed at a male. "Well?" she demanded.

"You are done. The allergy is cleared," Arya replied, instinctively bracing herself.

Willow smiled and threw her arms around Arya, hugging her tightly for a second. "Thank you," she fervently breathed, as she had once before. Then she let go and spun around. "Sorry again," she called to Eragon as she strode out the door and ran to Varhog.

-:-:-

After Arya closed the door, Eragon commented, "I never thought to see such a look on the face of any female besides yourself, my love. How did you like getting a glimpse in the mirror at yourself just about every night and many times in between?" He grinned at her as she returned to his side.

"That was shocking," Arya agreed. "Is that really what I look like? It's hard for me to believe I contain that much passion and longing. Willow's was almost palpable."

"Aye," Eragon confirmed. "Though your eyes burn more like Fírnen's flames. Hers? Well, I had best not dwell on it." He laughed. "I'm sure they're having fun about now, judging by how quickly they got here." His eyes had involuntarily taken on a look of longing, which Arya saw clearly enough, so she leaned into his lap and started kissing him. He eagerly returned the kiss.

-:-:-

In the meantime, Willow jumped on Varhog's back and he ran them just as swiftly back to their hut. When he reached the yard in front of it, Willow demanded, "Stop!" so he wouldn't go inside. Less than ten minutes had passed since they had left. The dragons and wolves remained where they were, and the snow fell with more force.

"Kneel down," Willow commanded in his ear. Varhog didn't immediately obey, so with a return of her playful teasing, Willow added, "I can make you, if you would prefer," and circled her arms around his neck.

Varhog quickly dropped, bowing his head and releasing her legs where he had been holding them. He clenched his hands into tight fists, and his body began trembling.

Willow slid her legs to the ground, ripping off her undershirt and throwing it behind them so he wouldn't notice. She shivered with the cold but only slightly—the passion she felt was burning through her whole body. She squatted down so her bare skin wouldn't brush his and carefully jerked his pants down to his knees. Then she moved around in front of him, repeating the maneuver she had performed after their last fight on the night of their wedding by pressing his face into her chest.

Varhog was, as then, completely unprepared for it and he inhaled sharply, accepting her blatant invitation with relief.

Willow vocalized her approval but was disappointed that her hands couldn't reach their desired location. "Sit back," she ordered, but Varhog made no move to obey. Perhaps he hadn't heard, which wasn't surprising.

So Willow lifted one knee, carefully pushing it into his body next to his groin so she wouldn't injure him in his aroused state, which had the desired effect. Varhog flinched, automatically lurching away from the contact. Willow took advantage of the movement to force him to sit back over his ankles, using her knee to apply continued pressure to the sensitive area. She could tell Varhog was confused and still didn't understand her intent.

Willow knelt on his lap instead of sitting—which was what Varhog seemed to expect and desire—so she would remain high enough for him to continue his efforts while she reached down and was finally successful in starting hers. Varhog grunted in surprise at the contact of her cold hands on that part of his body, and she guessed he finally understood her wishes.

So he wouldn't have to wonder any longer, Willow nonetheless clarified, "I need to feel that your semen won't hurt me anymore before it goes inside my body, so release before we join." She let out a sound of pleasure at his continued fondling, knowing she had made him so hungry for her that he couldn't bring himself to stop.

Varhog withdrew only long enough to ask, "How soon? I could whenever you wish, I'm so aroused right now."

"As soon as I'm ready, which won't be long," Willow replied, anxiously leaning into him.

She was right. Before long, the anticipated moment arrived for them both and when it was over, she ended her efforts by wrapping her arms around his neck, tears of joy filling her eyes at the undeniable proof that she had no negative reaction to his semen.

Willow echoed something Myrin had once told her, and which that day had clearly proved true. "The thrill of battle is second only to being with you, Varhog. We need never worry about sharing our love again, in whatever way we see fit."

Willow pulled back to look at him, noticing that his eyes were also full of powerful emotions. She kissed him, softly at first, but they were so starved for each other that it didn't stay tender for long.

Varhog jumped up, using magic to summon his shirt and her coat to his hand while keeping the other arm firmly under her. He strode with her toward Black Thunder. As he climbed into his dragon's saddle, Willow heard him demand, Take us to the hot spring. Then, since their mouths were still busy, he mentally added to Willow, He can get us there faster.

"Mmmm," she acknowledged. Varhog helped her into her coat so the frigid winter air high in the sky wouldn't be as unbearable, then he shrugged into his shirt before circling his arms around her under the coat to give her extra warmth.

Black Thunder made the flight to the hot spring in half the time, but Varhog and Willow were only getting started. The dragon could have landed directly over the pool, which was the only nearby area clear of trees, but Varhog asked him to land farther away so he could run. This he did, right after sliding down from his dragon with Willow wrapped around him.

When he reached the pool, Varhog lowered himself into a snow drift with Willow above him, staying there until she was trembling with ecstasy and cold. Then he stood, removing all of their clothing with sharp, determined rips and dropping it in a messy heap before striding into the water.

They continued on in this manner for many hours. Their passion only peaked before it slowly, gradually, finally ebbed, leaving them as perfectly content and relaxed as they had ever been, deeply asleep in one another's arms near the edge of the water.

A/N: The next chapter contains a very brief, tame reference to intimacy. Just FYI. :)