Daisy in the Fringe

Dear Diary,

It took us a whole day to get to the Minerva.  Happily, Pete had a sewing machine on the Falcon that he let me borrow, so I used the time working on Geoffry’s betrothal present.  It’s starting to look good – I reckon it’ll take me only another day or so to finish it off.

I was a little nervous about going back to the Minerva.  I got some real mixed memories of that place.  But I was glad for the chance to visit with our old friends.  Sure enough, soon after we got there Tacita, Flanna, and Aphrodite all came down to see us.  It was a happy reunion, full of hugs and gossip about my wedding and the strange things Tacita’s been seeing lately.  They call her Lady Tacita now and are giving her special classes in proper behavior, all that Domina Moratus stuff – not bad at all for an ex-slave!  I sure am glad things have worked out so well for her.  Helping her find her place in the world is the thing I’m most proud of since I left home, and it makes me awfully happy to see her doing so well.

After a dinner full of nice conversation with all our friends (even Captain Crispin managed to keep from going on and on about boring stuff), Tacita said she had to talk to Dusty.  That left me alone in our room, but that was okay because I wanted to talk with Aphrodite and get from her the scoop on what I should expect on my wedding night and I knew Dusty didn’t want any part of that talk.  Aphrodite came on by and showed me this book by a guy named Danielus Ferus.

The book was all about the kinds of things married folk do together, and Aphrodite used it to tell me how to please a feller, like I’m gonna have to do once Geoffry and me is married.  It was chock full of strange phrases like “Lotus position” and “Reverse Cowgirl,” and I still don’t get what wheelbarrows got to do with anything.  But what really stuck out was the pictures.  I never seen nothing like them pictures – they was all of naked people, men and women both, but not pictures of stern looking marble statues like you see in the sacred books.  These pictures was real photos of real people, and they was doing it in more ways than I ever thought possible!

Aphrodite flipped through the pages and every now and then would stop and point to a picture and say, “Now most fellers really like that,” or “Some guys want you to do that to them, but some just hate it,” or “Now THAT’s something you do when he’s been a really good boy.”  Some of them things was awfully shocking, and I couldn’t hardly believe that fellers would want them.  I mean, momma always told me men was dogs, but I had no idea!

After a bit of this, Aphrodite said she’d leave the book with me and come back tomorrow to see if I had any questions.  After she left, I sat there thumbing through page after page, my eyes getting bigger and bigger all the time.  After reading the caption of one picture (I couldn’t hardly credit what I was seeing, but by what the caption said it was just what I thought), I just had to slam the book shut and get out of there for a while.

I must of looked awfully dazed when I got out to the lounge, cause my head felt like it was floating like a balloon about ten feet over my body.  When I met Geoffry, I almost jumped out of my skin: all I could think of was them pictures and him and whatever I would do if he was ever extra special good and if that’s what he was doing with Asaki-san when he was calling out my name and if he was imagining them things when he looked at me and if I really had to all that when the wedding night rolled around.

I must have showed something, cause he seemed awfully concerned for me.  I managed to give him a smile, but truth to tell, I was just as glad when he said he had to go see Tacita.  He seemed worried to be leaving me so shook up, but fact is having him gone right now is helping calm me down.

I’m just sitting here now, and though I’m starting to get my head together, there’s still some awfully weird images running through my head.  And that’s not all: I don’t know if it’s just the book, but I got a feeling something’s going on in this ship tonight.  I keep seeing people wander past looking preoccupied; Dusty with a dangerous smirk on her face, Dutch muttering in his beard, and Hank walking along like he’s got a train to catch and wants to climb on board quick.  Something is happening, and I reckon I’m just as glad that I don’t know what it is.

I think I’m gonna spend a little time with Domina Moratus now.  She sure is easier on the imagination than that Danielus Ferus feller.

Dear Diary,

I been to a couple of weddings, but it sure is nice having Domina Moratus spell it out plain.

All the preparations are complete when the groom finally arrives, accompanied by an entourage of groomsmen, family, and friends.  His entrance, full of bravado and pomp, has the neighbors talking about what a fine husband you will be getting.  Even the priest looks pleased, assuming that you are having one: traveling with the groom’s company, he imparts an air of dignity to the procession.  All in all, Domina Moratus concludes it likely that there is going to be a wedding today.

Certainly your intended is acting like he is eager to be wed, for he bangs on your father’s door and demands entrance.  And when your father arrives at the threshold, accompanied by the men of your family and demanding an explanation for this behavior, your groom declares that he has heard of a maiden who lives within and that he is here to claim her as bride.

The men bicker a bit, and even look as if they will come to blows, when your father bows before this forceful fellow, stating that there is no choice but to welcome him in.  The groom and his retinue stride into an atrium decorated with flowers and bands of wool that speak to your freshness, beauty, and domesticity.  There they join your family and friends, and your father excuses himself to fetch forth his daughter.

You, of course, are maintaining a decorous reticence and so have not yet appeared. But Domina Moratus would not be such a spoil-sport as to require that you miss the show: many a young bride has been known to peek out at the arrival of her groom from a discrete upper window of the house, often joined by a passel of giggling attendants.  This is an acceptable and comfortable place for you to await your father’s summons and the time to make your entrance.

Finally his call comes.  Into the atrium, you are proceeded by your mother, by your attendants, and by music.  At last you enter on your father’s arm, your pronuba following immediately to offer her support, and you are led before the guests to the dais where stands the man who is gazing at the beauty that is about to be his.

As your father passes your arm to the groom, the two share this exchange:

Father: “I give you this girl, that she may bring children into the world within the bond of wedlock.”

Groom: “I accept her.”

Father: “I agree to provide with her a dowry of (at this point, your father describes the dowry).”

Groom: “I accept that as well.”

Your father, having delivered you, withdraws to his seat among the guests and the ceremony commences.

The form of the ceremony varies greatly from wedding to wedding.  It may contain a great deal of religious content or none at all.  There may be a personage of great dignity who welcomes the guests and offers a brief homily, a priest or local official or family friend known for his wisdom.  There may be readings or brief musical selections or prayers.  Or you may bypass these niceties altogether and proceed directly to the signing of the marriage contract.  As long as the ceremony does not continue for too long or include anything inappropriate, neither your guests nor Domina Moratus will complain.

Once the preliminaries are complete, there is usually an exchange of vows, though these too are optional.  Typically the groom will promise to protect and care for you and for any children that you may bear him, finishing by saying, “I take you as bride.”  You respond by taking your vows, which usually require that you be true to your husband, bear his children, and honor and obey him for as long as you two shall be wed.  At the completion of your vows, you say, “Where you are Gaius, I am Gaia.”

As can be inferred from this description, there is room for much creativity in the selection of the vows.  Domina Moratus, noting that license to do something does not suggest that it is wise, must urge restraint: sadly, wedding vows often serve only to demonstrate that a young couple inspired by mutual affection may yet lack the best judgment in matters either literary or ceremonial.  Having an older and wiser head edit your vows is thus a recommended precaution

Once the vows have been made, the best man brings forth the wedding contract.  This is the central piece of business of the day: officially, it is the signing of the contract that makes you a married woman.

The contract itself can include financial details such as the dowry, personal matters such as vows, and any other agreements made during prenuptial negotiations.  To be official, the contract must be signed by your groom, your father, and at least three witnesses.  It is common though not required to have you sign as well.  Once these necessaries are satisfied, there is no limit to whom else may sign: a common practice that produces a charming keepsake is to place the contract in a prominent position during the wedding meal for guests to sign as witness and to write fond wishes for the couple.

Now that you are married, your groom removes your veil and becomes the first to gaze upon his new wife’s face.  In less formal ceremonies, the groom may also kiss you.  If the two of you must add this flourish, Domina Moratus expects you to recall that vulgarity rarely adds charm to a wedding.

As your first act as a married couple, you two now make a sacrifice to Serapis and Isis, usually a pig.  Then it is time for the wedding meal, which has been previously described.

Wow.  There sure is a lot to all that.  And lots to decide on too.  I suppose I won’t have to figure the details of the dowry and stuff, but I wonder what Geoffry will want for vows.  I expect I’ll promise whatever he wants me to, as I’ll be his wife and all.  But I reckon we ought to talk it over at least.

I do wonder how I’ll say my vows and all them other things.  I suppose I can hand-talk them, though most of the guests won’t know what I’m saying.  Maybe I should have Dusty repeat them aloud, though I reckon it could be kinda dangerous letting her put words in my mouth at a time like that.

I wonder if my Geoffry’s gonna learn hand talk by then.  It sure would be funny making vows to him if he ain’t even able to understand them.  And it would be just plain nice to be able to talk with him without having to write notes or have Dusty there to translate.  I can see how there’d be times when having paper and pen handy would be awfully awkward, and there’s gonna be parts of the wedding where Dusty is just plain not invited.

Dear Diary,

When we got back to the Iron Falcon, there was a bit of a fuss over what to do next.  We was gonna bring the charioteer to the Minerva, but we had to decide what state to deliver him in.  See, we figured that he had some sort of demon inside him, and Prometheus said he knew how to drive out demons, only there was a chance that it might get loose and take over the ship.

Captain Olo didn’t like the sound of that, and truth to tell, neither did I.  But Dusty decided it would be best to have that demon out then and there.  Besides, she thought it would be a hoot to see a demon driven off, and she didn’t want to miss it.  I weren’t too sure of that, and Hank also seemed to figure it would be a bad idea.  But once Dusty got finished talking, pretty much everyone was convinced it would be best to let the priest have a shot at it.  (Well, everyone but me.  It ain’t as easy for Dusty to convince me of one of her hair-brained notions as it used to be.  I been through that ringer once too often.)

Anyways, after a bit of rattling around and bad-talking between priest and demon, Prometheus managed to drive off that old evil spirit, and if it got loose in the ship, tweren’t no sign of it.  So maybe Dusty was right for once, only don’t ever tell her I said so!

We’re headed to the Minerva now.  It will be nice to see Tacita again, and maybe I can get a chance to have a talk with Aphrodite (the courtesan, not the goddess) and see if she can give me any hints of what I’m in for as a married woman.  But all in all, I’d be just as happy to be headed back down to Arcadia.  I reckon I’m tired of the Minerva, and it’s likely to get Dusty talking more about me getting married up there: after she talked everyone into letting that priest go after the demon, she’s bound to be feeling her oats.

Though on second thought, this will give me lots of time to finish reading up on weddings, and to work on Geoffry’s present.  I wonder if the Iron Falcon’s got a sewing machine on board!