Chapter 10-The Blaster-Point Wedding
The next day, Beru stood in the parlor-hall of the Rijdan townhouse, hoping she might die at any moment. The Rijdan womenfolk had just showed her their handiwork in a large mirror on the wall. She looked---there was no other word for it--hideous beyond description. The dress she wore was a beautiful one, made of creamy Arachnine spider-silk, but the heavy, flared style was designed for a much taller, more buxom woman. Her diminutive frame seemed lost in it. They had attempted to curl her fine, straight hair. When it had resisted, they had applied a lacquer that had fixed it into a cottony mass. They had used highly-colored cosmetics on her face, rather too liberally. Beru longed for a shower to wash away the wedding finery, not to mention the wedding.
The Rijdans were oblivious. "You look wonderful!" Madame Rijdan said, excitedly. "We're nearly ready!"
The thought of Owen seeing her like this nearly turned Beru's stomach. He'd never let her forget it.
"We took a look at the groom this morning," giggled the eldest Rijdan daughter. "Daddy's got him out of jail, and is getting him ready, too. He's definitely above average."
Definitely above average, Beru sighed to herself. Owen's life story encapsulated.
The second daughter made a comment so ribald that Beru's eyes popped. The delicate flowers shrieked with laughter.
"Look at her blush!" exclaimed Madame Rijdan, laughing. "Nobody'd guess that he's already sampled the merchandise! Well, now, honey, tell us all about it--how was he? Don't be shy! We're all married here."
Beru decided then and there that she had better adapt herself to her audience. She made a measuring gesture with her hands that was received with hoots of disbelief and applause.
"Well, honey," Madame Rijden said, "Not that you really need it, it's time for the finishing touch. It's a little late for it--well, more than just a little. But to us, tradition is all-important." She gestured to her youngest daughter, who came forward with a flute filled with bright red liquid on a small medal tray. "Here we are, and just for you: Bakaniri wedding cordial. Famous all over the galaxy."
Beru had never heard of it. She sniffed cautiously at the flute, but the liquid had no smell. She hesitated, but it was obvious that to refuse to drink the stuff would be rude. After all, these people had knocked themselves out preparing a wedding for her. It was not their fault that she didn't want to be married, or more accurately, she didn't want to be married to Owen Lars. She took a deep breath and drank the contents of the flute down.
At first she thought that the liquid had no taste. Then she discerned a musty, perfumey flavor that was mild at first, and then became stronger and stronger. She bit back a desire to gag. The Rijdens watched her with bright, expectant faces. The youngest daughter muttered something that she did not quite catch.
"I'm sorry," Beru said, feeling dizzy, "what was that you said.?"
Madame Rijdan gave her daughter a stern look. "Nothing. She was just mentioning the cordial's nickname. It's rather crude. Pay no attention."
The youngest daughter snickered. "Lewd, crude and stewed!" she exclaimed, laughing.
"Enough!" Madame Rijden said. "Let's see if your father and the happy groom have arrived."
They had indeed arrived, and to her surprise, Beru soon saw the 'happy groom' was an accurate description. Owen, dressed in Bakaniri wedding finery, appeared to be in tearing spirits. His outfit was about as becoming as her own, and obviously cobbled together from disparate donated elements that did not quite fit him. A Bakaniri priest, in gilded wedding robes, stood waiting with him. Captain Rijdan and two business-like male relatives stood behind Owen, apparently covering the escape routes. Such precautions hardly seemed necessary. Owen was grinning happily. Beru had never seen him in such a good mood. She wondered if he was drunk.
The wedding ceremony was a Bakaniri one, which started with a recitation of each family's history and achievements. Beru winged this. A series of outrageous lies seemed to pour from her lips. Her stomach burned from the cordial.
Then Owen took over. Beru was rather startled to hear that Owen's father, who she rather thought was a smallholder on Tattooine, was the victor in twenty-five duels of honour. What in space is making him behave like this, Beru thought to herself. What's making *me* behave like this?
The priest then led them through a series of symbolic rites, designed to promote happiness, fertility, wealth and longevity. Finally they knelt together, face to face, and the priest led them through the joint wedding oath.
To Owen: "Do you promise to protect this woman with your life?"
"I promise."
To Beru: "Do you promise to nurture this man in times of trouble?"
"I promise."
"Do you promise to cleave to one another and to your children?"
"Yes," they answered together.
The priest then pronounced the blessing and declared them married. I always dreamed of what my wedding would be like, Beru thought. I just didn't know that it was going to be of the blaster-point variety. When you consider that I'm sterile, it's quite an achievement.
Captain Rijdan then stepped forward and put Owen throught another series of oaths for the acknowledgment and legitimization of Luke. Owen promised to protect and provide for the child, and acknowledged him as his son. He seemed to have no difficulty in doing so. Beru had sniffed his breath suspiciously during the ceremony, but there was no smell of alcohol. Yet something was wrong. She could sense it.
Later, Beru could not clearly remember the rest of the day. She was vaguely aware of a large party, which gradually became more and more raucous. Owen appeared to be having a wonderful time, laughing, joking, even dancing. Even Luke seemed to be enjoying himself. He was passed from arm to arm, and Beru noticed that people were popping sweets in his mouth. He can't digest that! Beru screamed to herself, but an overpowering lassitude prevented her from doing anything about it. She felt terribly tired. She longed for the evening to end.
Finally, the guests began to disperse. Captain Rijdan and his wife were talking to Owen, their voices echoing louder and louder in Beru's brain. The lights began to merge into each other. Beru felt faint. She looked around for Luke. She discovered him fast asleep in a chair, his mouth stained. She tried to pick him up, but he slid sleepily out of her arms. He was heavy--so heavy. He's too heavy a burden, Beru said to herself in despair. I can't lift him anymore--