Life with the Night Furies Chapter 19
The Berserker chief waved his arms for attention. The hubbub of reactions to the attempt on the bridegroom's life and the dragons' sniff-check faded away as Sigurd the Sociable, who did not look a bit sociable now, glared at all the Berserker guests.
"Obviously, somebody in my tribe didn't get the word, so let me make myself perfectly clear!" he shouted. "The Berserker tribe needs this marriage, because of the treaty that it seals. Anyone who is against the marriage and the treaty is against the tribe and against your chief – that's me. If any of you think you're doing a good thing by stopping this marriage, then you'd better hope that Berk's dragons get to you before I do! They'll probably be a lot quicker and more merciful with you than I will be. Now, let us continue."
Chief Night Fury leaned over to Night-fury-mother-of-twins. "Find one of our older kids and assign him or her to guard Rangi. I don't want any more incidents."
"I can take care of my own brother, thank you very much," she replied indignantly. "It's not like I have any actual responsibilities during this wedding."
"As you wish," he nodded. "Just don't call him a little troll. After all, it's his wedding day."
"If that's what he acts like, then that's what I'll call him," she retorted. He decided that it might be unwise for him to stick his nose into the Hofferson family dynamics if there wasn't an actual problem, and backed off.
The rest of the wedding ceremony went off without any more homicidal interruptions. Gothi sacrificed a pig to the gods as an offering on behalf of the couple, then motioned with her head for the Berserkers' junior priest, a young man named Peatcooker, to recite an endless series of prayers to every god and goddess he could think of, including one or two that he might have made up himself. Everyone relaxed when the religious part of the ceremony ended; now it was time for the uniquely Viking portion of the ceremony.
This part, at least, didn't make Rangi nervous. The bride and groom had to receive their ceremonial swords from their attendants, balance the wedding rings on the tips of those swords, exchange blades, and put on the rings. Rangi wasn't nervous about this part because he knew no one would be looking at him; all eyes would be on the swords. For generations, the local tribes had been playing a game of one-upmanship with each other, trying to outdo each other to produce the most awesome wedding blades ever. Gobber's swordwork in the past had been skillful, but unimaginative. Rangi had wanted something better to give to his bride; his wedding sword had not been made by Gobber, or by any other human being. He'd entrusted the work to Night-fury-smith-flies-for-fun, Berk's head dragonsmith, with fire provided by all of the other Night Furies. They had refined their technique during the recent war in order to forge blades that had no equals in the entire Archipelago. Those blades had played a major role in Hiccup's plans, first to prevent, and then to win, the Second Berserker War. For Rangi's wedding blade, the Night Furies started with one of those excellent swords and took it up a notch.
The dragons had not yet figured out how to do engraving in metal; the sheer size of their paws and claws ruled out that kind of fine detail work. That task fell to Varinn, who was happy to try some skilled workmanship on behalf of his younger brother. The engraving took the form of stylized dragon fire running the length of the blade on both sides. Then the dragons took over. Night-fury-full-of-surprises had made a deal with a school of Thunderdrums, offering to stun a whole school of fish for them if they would search the bottom of the sea for a sunken ship that carried some gold. It took them three days to find such a wreck, bring the small chest of gold to the beach, and collect their reward. Full-of-surprises delivered the gold to the forge, where Smith-flies-for-fun waited with his special dragon forge tools. Some of the gold was cut into small slivers, laid on the sword blade, and melted with repeated blasts of Night Fury blowtorch-fire. The gold puddled into the engraving and hardened there, and once the yellow metal was filed smooth and polished, the results were stunning. When someone held the sword so it caught the light of the sun, it looked like liquid golden flame. Rangi wasn't worried that the Berserkers could produce a better blade than this!
They certainly tried. The Berserkers' sword looked fine, with a color like pewter and engraved runic blessings for the couple, and it drew some ooh's and ahh's when Sigurd's son Sirius drew it for his cousin Anya. But when Varinn drew Rangi's blade, there was stunned silence. Then someone started clapping, and in moments, the wedding ceremony had been pre-empted by lusty cheers for Berk's sword-smith. (That smith was standing with the other Night Furies and wasn't in the wedding party, so he just smiled as he listened to the cheers.) The only Berserker who didn't feel ashamed of her tribe's inadequate offering was Anya, and that was because she realized that this blade of all blades was about to become her own personal possession. She hadn't been sure how she would decorate the walls of her new house; now she had the finest decoration in the Archipelago, and her new husband couldn't possibly say, "I don't like it."
The passing of the swords went uneventfully, but then it was time for Rangi to start sweating again. Like many cultures, the Vikings included personal vows in their wedding ceremonies. They didn't have to be artistic or poetic (although the guests always appreciated it if they were), but they were expected to be original. That meant that Rangi couldn't speak someone else's vows and be sure that they'd be well-received. He had laboriously written his own vows and practiced them in front of Varinn and Fluffernut, who pronounced them "different, but not bad." Whether the rest of the tribe, and the members of his wife-to-be's tribe, would appreciate them... he didn't know. But now it was time to find out, for better or for worse. He cleared his throat, gazed at his beautiful bride, and his mind went totally blank. It took him a few seconds to remember what he was supposed to say to her.
"Of axes and warhammers, battering heads!
"We'll fight 'til our enemies flee or lie dead!
"Yes, that's how we Vikings should lead and be led,
"Except on the day when the two of us wed."
This was totally un-wedding-like, but very Viking-like, and everyone was hanging on his every word to see where he was going with this.
"The bride and the bridegroom, the two shall be one.
"We'll turn war to peace when the wedding is done.
"We're joined by our vows and it can't be undone,
"So hear what I say as our new life's begun."
"To love you and care for you, that is my mission.
"To treat you with gentleness, and in addition,
"To keep and protect you, share all acquisitions,
"And faithfully stay in a married condition."
He'd made a point of saying something about being gentle because he knew Anya was worried about that. He noticed her relax, ever so slightly, and went on.
"Now, Vikings of Berk and Berserkers combined,
"Give ear to my vows and the ties that will bind.
"If ever I waver, then come and remind
"Me of promises made, and of lives intertwined."
"The Berks and Berserkers, we truly decide
"We long to have peace, but with honor and pride.
"So, Anya, my lady from tribes now allied,
"I take you, this day and forever, my bride."
Okay, so it wasn't fit to be in a saga that would be remembered for generations. But for a nervous fifteen-year-old, it wasn't bad. Everyone nodded in approval when he was done, one or two women dabbed tears away from their eyes, and someone on the Berserker side called, "Now that's a Viking vow!" I guess that means it was good enough, he thought.
Now it was Anya's turn.
"All my life, I have been known as Anya, the daughter of Svenhund of the Berserkers. Today, I become Anya, the wife of Rangi of Berk.
"All my life, I have known Berk as the home of rivals and sometimes enemies. Today, I know Berk as my home.
"All my life, I have prepared myself for marriage. Today, the preparations end and the reality begins.
"For the rest of my life, I pledge to you my possessions, my loyalty, my heart, and myself. I will respect you and I will teach our children to respect you. I will work beside you, play beside you, fight beside you, and rest beside you. I curse the one who tries to come between us in any way.
"May nothing but death separate us, from this day to my last day."
These were much more typical of Viking wedding vows, and they were greeted with smiles and nodding heads all around. Anya heaved a sigh of relief; she'd gotten through her vows without forgetting anything. Rangi had squirmed at her mention of them having children, but he recovered quickly.
They'd gotten through the actual ceremony. Now it was time for the good part... the reception.