Emissary of the Mark

(Elfhelm’s adventures in the land of Rhûn)

by Soledad

Disclaimer: see Introduction, because in this story it’s rather long.

Author’s notes: The wedding ceremony is based on old Anglo-Saxon prayers and modern pagan rituals I found on the internet; hopefully the different parts work together convincingly. I tentatively identified Nogyth with Yavanna, although she does share some traits with Varda as well. Béma is canonically Oromë, of course.

Time: about four years before the Ring War

Beta read by Borys, thanks!

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Chapter Seventeen – The Wedding Feast

As it was only proper for a son of House Fréabold and agreed in advance, the wedding ceremony was to be held in the royal hof of Edoras. This was, as the Rhunim learned, a sacred place that had long replaced the hallowed groves in which the Éothéod of old had worshipped in the North.

“Such places are held separate from the rest of the world,” explained Lady Imoleth to her new daughter-in law, “Even fenced off with hedges or walls to warn people that they are approaching a place hallowed to the Powers. No violence can be done within such enclosures; to commit violence there would result in death for the violator.”

The hof of Edoras was larger than the average: a hundred feet long and twenty-five feet wide, built like the usual longhouses of the Mark. Id had buttressed outer walls and inner walls lined with wattle and daub. There were two doorways in the centre of the long walls, and the main pillars, which supported the roof – richly carved with the figures of horses, painted and gilded, so that they almost seemed alive – were one at end each of the short walls. At one end was a small enclosure containing the wéofod (altar), upon which the oath ring and the hlautbolli, the blessing bowl, sat.

Directly north and in line with the hof was a mead hall of similar longhouse design and size, where people who had attended to the ceremonies cold participate in the following húsel. Even though the nobles could have entertained their guests in their own houses, it was considered better to celebrate the húsel there – the closeness of the hof meant a blessing for host and guests alike.

To the west of the hof was the slaughterhouse and the kitchens, where the food for the húsel could be prepared… by the families themselves.

“The hof has no permanent servants,” explained Lady Imoleth. “The family that uses it sees that everything is in readiness and that the place is properly cleaned afterwards.”

In a distance from the northwest of the hof stood the burial mounds of the previous Kings of the Mark, although only the tops of them could be seen above the high wall that encircled the town and the fence of the hof itself. The Men of the Mark had no fear of their dead; on the contrary, they liked to have them close, as if their strength would protect the following generations even in death.

On the same side was the blótkilda, the sacred well of the hof, surrounded by ancient oaks, yew trees and birches, all of which were considered holy, especially the oaks. These trees, Lady Imoleth said, were adorned at the time of the great annual feasts. As Harvest tide counted as one of such feasts, the trees of the hof were richly decorated with wreaths and ribbons and fruits hung up in nets.

The first part of the ritual, namely the agreement on the handgeld, morgengifu and brýdgifu, had already been performed in Rhûn, so they could continue straight to the wedding ceremony itself. The handfaestnung, however, had to be repeated for the witnesses of the Mark, as none of them had been originally present and the Ranger, who had been Elfhelm’s witness, could not accompany them to the Mark.

Therefore Elfhelm asked Prince Théodred to be his witness, who readily agreed to stand with him before chosen members of Clan and family when he took Imogen’s hand. Imogen chose Einarr to be hers (not that she would have many other choices), and Elfhelm spoke the time-honoured words, holding the hand of his bride.

“We declare before these witnesses that thou, Imogen Ragnarsdaughter, bindest me in lawful betrothal, and that with a handshake thou pledge to marry me in exchange for the handgeld and morgengifu as promised, and engagest me to fulfil and observe the whole of the oath between us, which has been said in the hearing of these witnesses without wiles or cunning, as a true and honest oath.”(*)

Of course, as some of said gifts had already been exchanged, in their case the handfaestnung had only a symbolic role. But it was part of the rites, so it had to be observed.

After that, Elfhelm was banned from the house, as he was not supposed to see the bride until the wedding itself. He stayed in the barracks with the garrison, where he was the subject of much good-natured teasing that only a wild shieldmaed of the East had been desperate enough to agree to marry him. Imogen remained in the house with Lady Imoleth, Lady Cwén and Princess Idis, and the Lady Aelfgifu came over from Meduseld each day to prepare her for the ceremony.

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In the morning right before the wedding ceremony, she was taken to the sweat lodge, which was called the stánbath in the tongue of the Mark, attended by her bridesmaids, namely the Lady Aelfgifu and young Éowyn, since all other women of Elfhelm’s family were already married. At first she was very self-conscious of her marred and scarred body, compared with these two golden beauties, but the two royal ladies – both the sister-daughters of Théoden-king himself, though by different sisters – just laughed.

“You should see the Lady Aud’s scars,” said Éowyn. “She often took part in tournaments, the only woman among the knights, and has many scars to prove that she fought well. And though I have never seen true battle – not yet – I, too, have got my fair share of training injuries. Neither Théodred nor my brother pull their punches when they practice with me.”

That consoled Imogen a little and she allowed them to disrobe her and lead her into the sweating lodge. She was no complete stranger to such things; the shieldmaiden of Nimwarkinh had a small sweating chamber at their disposal, but the Men of the Mark clearly liked their stánbath very much.

There was a separate bathing house behind Meduseld, of which the sweating lodge was merely part of. Within, there were low wooden benches surrounding the glowing stones in the central pit, and the attendants not only poured water over the stones but also threw fresh grass and aromatic herbs, hacked in small pieces, into the mix, which made the heat more endurable and filled the room with a pleasant smell.

“We are fortunate to have the stánbath all to us this morning, due to your wedding,” explained young Lady Éowyn, stretching in the fragrant heat luxuriously. “’Tis in much demand otherwise.”

“Truly?” that surprised Imogen. The Men of the Mark did not strike her as ones who would waste much time with personal grooming.

Éowyn grinned. “Oh, aye. We love our horses, as you might have learned by now, but we do not like smelling of horse. At least we women do not. And, according to the married ladies I know, the men can be persuaded to clean themselves ere they are allowed to enter the bedchamber. You just have to be strict with them.”

“I shall remember that,” said Imogen gravely, and they all laughed.

“Worry not,” said Lady Aelfgifu. “My cousins are putting Elfhelm into the stánbath right now. You shan’t have to hold perfumed kerchiefs under your nose during the ceremony.”

They laughed again, and Imogen began to enjoy herself with these delightful young women. Of royal blood they might be, yet they certainly did not make her feel beneath them – on the contrary. Perhaps, given enough time, they might even become friends. At least the love of the sword would doubtlessly connect her with Éowyn.

When she had sweated properly, they attended to her while she bathed, and then dressed her in her wedding gown – it was a beautiful one, made of dark green velvet, with a pale gold undergown beneath – and crowned her with a bridal crown. The latter did not come from Elfhelm’s family but was the same jewelled bronze circle she used to wear on feasts at home. Her hair they just combed and arranged on her shoulders; only after the wedding would it be braided.

As soon as they had finished their task, a young page came running and told them that everything was in readiness at the hof. Aelfgifu and Éowyn, also dressed in their festive best, led the bride to the entrance of the hof''s enclosure, where the other women of the family – including Brigid and Hemma, who seemed just a little intimidated – were waiting.

Eiríkr, who – as the bride’s only other kinsman present – had been chosen to be the sword-bearer, was also there, bearing the new sword to be given to the groom. Together, they went with Imogen in procession to the hof itself.

From the opposite direction, another procession was approaching: Elfhelm came, surrounded by his male kin and his groomsmen. Young Éomer, Éowyn’s brother, was bearing his ancestral blade, and Einarr represented the bride’s absent father.

The Men of the Mark had no priests and priestesses. Depending on the nature of every individual rite, the eldest man or woman of each family celebrated them – or the highest-ranking one. As the elders had their own part in the wedding rites, in this case Lady Aelfgifu, whose standing as a seer was very high indeed, and Prince Théodred shared the duties of the wéofodthegn between them.

First, Lady Aelfgifu brought forth a wide, flat iron bowl, in which charcoal embers glowed, lit from the níedefyr, the sacred fire that burned in a fire pit right in front of the wéofod day and night, never allowed to go out. Carrying this fire-bowl she now walked around the inner walls of the enclosure, to drive away any evil spirits, chanting:

Fire I bear around this sacred site

And bid all men to make peace

Flame I bear to enclose

And bid evil spirits to flee.

Nogyth make sacred, Nogyth make sacred

Nogyth make sacred this holy site.

Fire I bear around this sacred site,

And bid all men make peace,

Flame I bear to enclose,

And bid outlaws fare away.

Béma make sacred, Béma make sacred,

Béma make sacred this holy site.

She let the bowl burning next to the sacred well, from which she drew water next and sprinkled the people with the help of a green sprig, saying:

Nogyth I boast, lady all-holy,

Wonder-working queen,

Shining lady, splendid queen of Clans,

Blessed in triumph, binding folk together,

Lover of your people, lady bright-minded,

Bridler of kin-strife, bourne of kin-courtesy,

Protector and peace-weaver, friendly lady,

Your blessing give us, to babes and brave men,

Mother kind, of mind most excellent.

Great-hearted queen, holding secret counsel

With holy soothsayers to the wise-minded

Key-keeper mighty in your starry cape

Silver adorned shining heaven’s queen,

Bid us blithely together to your benches.

At sacred hall sitting, offer us the cup

Of frith and happiness.(**)

After the site had been properly cleansed and hallowed, they were allowed to enter the hof itself – the bride and the women through one entrance, the groom and the men through the opposite one – to meet before the wéofod, where Prince Théodred was waiting for them. Now followed the exchange of handgeld and brýdgifu – a symbolic act in their case, as the heads of cattle and horses had long been sent to Ragnar Jarl, together with the gold and silver, but a necessary part of the rites nonetheless.

Prince Théodred turned to Elfhelm first.

“Elfhelm Hengestsson, do you have the handgeld as you oathed to have?” he asked, first in the tongue of the Mark, then also in Westron, to make sure that everyone understood.

“Aye, I have,” Elfhelm lifted the scroll, upon which the exact number of cattle and horses and the amount of gold and silver sent to Nimwarkinh was listed, for everyone to see. Then he turned to Einarr, who was there in his father’s stead, saying: “I give you this, the handgeld, as I oathed to do.”

“And I accept it in the name of our father, who cannot be present in person,” replied Einarr.

Now Prince Théodred turned to him. “Do you have the brýdgifu, as you oathed to have?”

“Aye, I have,” Einarr lifted the small chest with gold and jewels, all that Ragnar Jarl could spare for his daughter. “I give you this, the brýdgifu,” he said to Imogen. “It is yours to have and to hold all your days.”

“And I accept it with gratitude as I would from the hand of my father,” answered Imogen, her heart aching that she had to stand here without her father.

“The brýdgifu and handgeld have been gifted and given,” announced Prince Théodred. “The holy oaths given have been held. Now let the bridegroom and the bride exchange their oaths.”

One of Elfhelm’s brothers nudged Éomer, who seemed a bit enthralled by the beauty of the bride; he reddened and handed the groom his ancestral blade in a hurry. Holding the great sword of House Fréabold in both palms, Elfhelm now offered it to Imogen, saying:

“I give you this sword, borne by all my forefathers, to save it for our sons and daughters to have and to use.”

Imogen accepted it with the bow of a warrior rather than with the curtsey of a noble lady and signalled to Eiríkr to bring forth the new sword.

“To keep us safe, you must bear a sword,” she said. “With this sword guard our home and protect us from all perils.”

Those time-honoured words made them both smile, as Imogen was more than capable of protecting herself and her home; but the rites were ancient, coming from a time when the man had to do the protecting and safe-keeping all on his own.

Lady Aelfgifu then brought forth the rings that had been laid on the wéofod, holding them out on their silver tray, and spoke in a fair, ringing voice:

“Like stone may your love be firm. Like a star may your love be constant. Like the earth itself may your bond be fertile. Let the powers of the mind guide you. Let the strength of your wills bind you together. Let the power of love and desire make you happy. Let the strength of your oath make you inseparable.”

She then turned to Elfhelm. “Elfhelm Hengestsson, I have not the right to bind thee to thy bride; only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time and place your ring in her hand.”

“It is my wish,” answered Elfhelm without hesitation and for everyone to hear.

Lady Aelfgifu turned to Imogen. “Imogen Ragnarsdaughter, if it be your wish for Elfhelm Hengestsson to be bound to you, place the ring upon his finger.”

Imogen’s hand trembled ever so slightly, knowing how irreversible this step was, but she managed to place the ring upon the index finger of Elfhelm’s left hand, where it would not hinder him in holding his sword steadily.

“Imogen Ragnarsdaughter,” continued Lady Aelfgifu,” I have not the right to bind thee to thy groom; only you have this right. If it be your wish, say so at this time and place your ring in his time and place your ring in his hand.”

“It is my wish,” said Imogen in a voice that was more steady than her true feelings, but she could not make any mistake now. She could not fail her father. They needed this alliance.

Lady Aelfgifu turned back to Elfhelm. “Elfhelm Hengestsson, if it be your wish for Imogen Ragnarsdaughter to be bond to you, place the ring upon her finger and repeat after me the sacred words of the marriage oath.”

Elfhelm slid the ring upon the index finger of Imogen’s left hand – again, the necessity of keeping the sword-hand free, clashed with tradition a bit – and spoke in a strong, steady voice:

“I, Elfhelm son of Hengest of House Fréabold, in the name of Béma, who protects our herds and the name of Nogyth who blesses our meadows, by the blood of Eorl that courses in my veins and the love that resides in my heart, take thee, Imogen daughter of Ragnar the Smith, to be my chosen one. To desire thee and be desired by thee, to possess thee, and be possessed by tee, without sin or shame. I promise to love thee without restraint, ‘til death do us part. I shall not seek to change thee in any way. I shall respect thee, thy beliefs, thy people and thy ways as I respect myself.”

Even though theirs was a marriage of convenience, for the good of their respective people, Imogen was deeply touched by the words of the marriage oath. By the customs of the Mark, she was offered a freedom she could never have dreamt of at home. Now she could be certain that no-one would demand from her to lay down the sword as she had secretly feared, despite all reassurances. If she had learned anything during her short time with the Men of the Mark, it was that they took their oaths very seriously.

She, too, repeated the same words after Lady Aelfgifu, meaning every single one of them, for Elfhelm was a man on whom she would be able to count and whom she would always support. Love, as the minstrels sang about it, may or may not come later. But they were bound for life now – and she would never be alone.

Prince Théodred now brought forth the beautiful, two-handed bronze cup – the love-cup or kasa, as it was also called – and offered it to them, saying, “May you drink your fill from the cup of love!”

Elfhelm took the cup from him to hold it while Imogen drank from the mead; then she took it to hold it for him while he drank. They handed it back to Prince Théodred then, who sat it on the wéofod again. Lady Aelfgifu then brought a plate of bread, giving it to Elfhelm, who fed Imogen, to be fed by her in exchange, symbolising how they would share everything in their future lives.

They were supposed to kiss now, which counted as the sealing of their agreement, and so they kissed, with Elfhelm’s entire family grinning in relief to finally have him properly wed.

Then Lady Imoleth came forth, carrying all keys of Elfhelm’s household in a small wicker basked, offering them to Imogen, and she said, “Accept the keys of your husband and take good care of them, for from now on you are the keeper of his household.”

Imogen accepted the keys, answering, “I shall take good care of him and all that is his, so that they may thrive under my guardianship. This I promise before the ears of you all to hear.”

“We have all witnessed the oaths given and accepted,” Prince Théoden then announced. “All has been done according to the laws and customs of the Mark. Therefore I declare you werman and wife, with all the duties and privileges that come with it,” he paused for a moment, then added with a broad grin. “Let us go to the mead hall and continue with the brýdeala!”

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The wedding crowd left the hof eagerly, going over to the mead hall where the wedding húsel took place. It was an opulent feast, well-prepared by the servants of Lord Hengest’s townhouse, with great amounts of food and drink consumed and a great number of bloats and toasts made to the gods. There was music and dance and a great lot of fun, as Elfhelm had hired some jugglers and mummers and other wandering comedians to entertain the guests.

When everyone bit the bride and groom (who needed to be by their senses for the wedding night) was suitably drunk, they all escorted the newlyweds to the foot of the hill, where their horses were waiting. Everyone swung into the saddle for the brýdlhóp to take place; originally a race by the separate wedding parties to the new home. In this case, though, as Elfhelm did not have a home of his own in Edoras, nor had Einarr and Eiríkr the means to hold the next húsel, should they lose, it was merely a high-spirited race around the whole town.

Eventually, they returned to the gates, and this time they rode up ‘til the townhouse of Lord Hengest’s family. There the newlyweds were left alone; the wedding party returned to the mead hall to continue with the feast for the rest of the night. Bride and groom were supposed to have the house for themselves, for which reason Elfhelm blocked the front door from within as soon as they were inside.

Imogen laughed. “Why are you doing this?”

“’Tis custom,” he replied, smiling. “We should not be disturbed in our wedding night.”

“What about the side doors?” asked Imogen, still laughing.

Elfhelm shrugged. “We pretend they do not exist. How else would my mother be able to enter the house and make breakfast for us? Besides, ‘tis the spirit that counts.”

“And what comes now?” asked Imogen when thy reached the bedchamber, prepared and decorated for their use.

“No I shall have to make sure that you do not stumble on the threshold,” answered Elfhelm, smiling. “That would be a very bad sign indeed.”

And with that he simply picked her up as if she were but a rag doll, not a heavily muscled shieldmaiden of considerable weight and carried her over the threshold on his arm. To her own surprise she found that she like being carried by him. His strength was impressive, and she like strong men that could be her equals.

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In the following month the both were required to drink mead to every single meal, in order to keep up their strength, for which reason it was called the huningmonath, or honeymoon. As the Men of the Mark brew excellent mead, though, neither of them found this a great hardship.

Lord Hengest and the rest of the family rode back to Stowburg after the first week, as they were all needed at home. Einarr, Eiríkr and their wives stayed in Edoras ‘til the end of the huningmonath, at which time they escorted Imogen back to Stowburg, where she lived in Elfhelm’s house to continue healing and to learn more about the customs of the Mark, which was still somewhat foreign for her.

But Spring – and the feast of Eostre – found her in Edoras again, living in the family townhouse to be near her husband and to begin her weapons training in earnest again. And there she stayed for the next three years, ‘til war come to the Mark from Isengard, when she rode out on Elfhelm’s side to fight in both Battles at the Fords of Isen with great skill and courage.

But that is another story that will be told another time.

~The End~

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(*) Adopted from an oath done in Heathen Iceland.

(**) Based on a Frige-boast, with alterations

More about Imogen’s fate will be told in “Frozen Flower”… eventually.