The mourning braid and the handfasting cord

[Dicey Reilly]

A braid, simply tied in remembrance was all she had left of him. The rest of her red hair she wore in the tradition style of her clan, except for that one small lock of mourning she allowed herself, twisted into the same hairstyle her Ma had taught her many years past on her first wedding day. Salty tears filled her eyes, and a silent sob caught in her chest at the memory of his face that day before their clan. A large calloused hand gently cupped her check and another arm pulled her into a comforting embrace.

"Oh lass, we donna have to be doin' this if'n yer nay ready"

Slowly she lifted her head, a small smile shining in her eyes through the tears.

"Aye we do Fergus. Me Ma would role o'er in her grave if'n I wasn't a proper bride to ye, an' it does the dead no justice to be livin' like ye were dead as well. Donna misunderstand me though," she added quietly, "I'll always hold a place in me heart fer 'im," as a few small tears finally broke free from her green eyes, "but I love ye, an' ye deserve no less then a wife as well as a mate."

She held on to him tightly, knowing that she was lucky, even in her grief. She had two fine men who loved her. One died saving her life, even if it meant a life of slavery for her for a while, and the other risked his life everyday ensuring that somehow he would be able to set her and himself free.

"I'm ready" she whispered finally, and broke from his embrace.

There was no clan with her this time as they made their way to the riverbed secluded in a small strand of evergreens, just themselves and an elder human priestess of Marr to help them with the ceremony, and to listen to the vows that they made to each other.

Her voice quivered as she repeated her vows. An Oath she once thought was hers only to make once.

I pledge to ye that ye may partake first of me bread. I pledge to ye me living and me dying, all be in yer care. I be a shield fer yer back, and ye fer mine. This is the vow I make to ye.

The old priestess placed the younger woman's hand under Fergus' placing his larger hand palm facing the sky after the two of them had pledged to each other their lives.

"Look lass, look to these hands. These are the hands, young and strong and vibrant with love, that are holding yours on your wedding day, as he promises to love you all the days of his life. These are the hands you will place with expectant joy against your stomach, until he too, feels his child stir within your womb. These are the hands that look so large and clumsy, yet will be so gentle as he holds your baby for the first time. These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, for a lifetime of happiness. These are the hands that will countless times wipe the tears from your eyes: tears of sorrow and tears of joy. These are the hands that will comfort you in illness, and hold you when fear or grief racks your mind. These are the hands that will tenderly lift your chin and brush your cheek as they raise your face to look into his eyes: eyes that are filled completely with his eternal love for you."

Another tear escaped from her eyes, and as if instinctual Fergus lifted his broad hand gently to wipe away the pain, his thumb caressing her cheek in the process.

Again the priestess took their hands, this time placing her smaller hand above his, open and to the sky.

"And you lad, look to these hands. These are the hands that are smooth, young, though not carefree, that are holding yours on your wedding day, as she pledges her love and commitment to you all the days of her life. These are the hands that will hold each child in tender love, soothing them through illness and hurts, supporting and encouraging them along the way, and knowing when it's time to let go. These are the hands that will massage tension from your neck and back in the evenings, after you've both had a long hard day. These are the hands that will hold you tight as you struggle through difficult times. They are the hands that will comfort you when you are sick and console you when you are grieving. These are the hands that will passionately love you and cherish you through the years, for a lifetime of happiness. These are the hands that will hold you in joy and excitement and hope. These are the hands that will give you support as she encourages you to chase down your dreams. Together, everything you wish for can be realized."

This time the elder woman place the two hands palm to palm, and wound a white cord around their wrists, intertwining it in an intricate knot not easily undone.

"This cord, it binds you one to another, and like your bond, it is not easily broken. You were once two, walking close to each other, but not together. Now you are one, hearts, minds and lives intertwined. Now you will feel no rain, for each of you will be the shelter to the other. Now you will feel no cold, for each of you shall be the warmth to the other. Now there is no more loneliness for you. Now there is no more loneliness. Now you are two bodies, but there is only one life before you. Go now to your dwelling place to enter into the days of your togetherness, And may your days be good and long upon Norrath. And it harm none, so mote it be!"

Fergus bent and kissed her cheek, and then her lips which trembled in both enormous grief and happiness in the same breath. She clung to him, depending on his strength as her hand wandered to her braid and the memory of a life lost. He had allowed her to grieve, and he had understood her pain, and she knew, being one of her people, that he would understand the fury that was yet to come.


/ooc Ceremony adapted from Jennifer L. Monaghan's handfasting ceremony.