259. Emily - The Seven Steps 1

259. Emily - The Seven Steps 1
Allissa finishes braiding my hair and fastens a feather to the end. When she’s done helping me get ready, she pulls me into a huge hug.
“I’m so happy for you!” she squeals.
Five days.
That’s how long it took the tribe to prepare the wedding for my bondeds and me. Everyone has been so kind, insisting I shouldn’t stress about anything. So, with their blessing, I left the preparations in the hands of my men and the tribe, while Allissa, Nonna, and I focused on finding my dream dress. That turned out to be harder than I expected, since I had no idea what I even wanted. If it hadn’t been for Angel and Olivia, I might still be searching. It was Olivia who suggested we try a thrift store that specialized in vintage gowns. That’s where I found it: a 1950s ivory lace cocktail dress that fits me perfectly.
I pull back so I can look her in the eyes and murmur, “You’ll follow soon.”
Of course, I’m talking about her coming to the wedding with my father and Ander—she’s dating them both now.
Her cheeks flush. “We’re taking things slow. All three of us still have a lot of healing to do.”
Nonna pokes her head into the room. “It’s time.”
I squeeze Allissa’s hands before saying, “Help me carry out the baskets.”
In Cherokee tradition, when a couple marries, they exchange gift baskets before taking their vows. I prepared one for each of my bonded.
My bondeds wait for me alongside Grandpa Takoda, whom we’ve asked to perform the wedding ceremony. Tears glisten in their eyes as they watch me walk toward them.
“You are so beautiful,” Rin murmurs when I finally stand before them.
They are dressed in traditional Cherokee clothing—ribbon shirts, deerskin moccasins, and leggings.
Several of Rin’s cousins step forward and drape blue blankets over our shoulders.
Noticing my confusion, Yan explains softly, “These blankets represent the shadow of sadness, weakness, and failures we’ve lived under until now.”
Grandpa Takoda continues, “We begin by purifying ourselves—either by washing our hands or with cedar smoke.”
Most of us wash our hands, but a few choose the cedar smoke, which is fanned around them with the sweep of a feather.
“We start at the feet,” Grandpa Takoda explains for those who are not Cherokee—like my father, Ander, Allissa, Olivia and her bondeds, Angel and her bondeds, and many other Lords who have joined us today to witness this celebration of love—“because we begin by showing respect to the Earth Mother.”
After everyone is purified, Grandpa Takoda raises his hands. “I would like to offer a prayer to our Creator.”
“Creator, we stand before you with humility. We ask for your blessings. May the union formed today be watched over by you and the ancestors. We come together with one mind, one soul, and one spirit, to join these people as one. Each is their own person, yet today they choose to walk as one. Amen.”
“Aho,” Rin and Yan murmur.
Fortunately, I do know what “aho” means—thank you, or hello.
“Now, you may present your baskets. Emily, let’s start with yours,” Grandpa Takoda says.
I take one of the baskets—they all contain nearly the same things with small variations—and face Steve.
“What do you bring to this man?” Grandpa Takoda asks.
I pull out corn first. “I promise to always have a warm meal for you.” Next, I offer dried berries. “I promise to love you and bring happiness to our marriage.” A piece of cloth follows. “I promise to always make sure you are comfortable and warm.” Lastly—sage. “This is for spiritual protection, so we will never forget to protect what matters most.”
There’s one more thing in my basket—a wedding band. After asking around, I learned Cherokee men often receive turquoise rings, so I chose bands with black edges and a round turquoise stripe in the center.
“Everything we do, everything in the Universe, is represented by a circle,” Grandpa Takoda says. “This symbol shows that one is no better than the other.” He looks at my bondeds and me. “In a marriage, neither spouse has more power than the other. A circle, like the ring, shows that everyone is equal.”
When he nods, I give Steve his ring. As I slip it on, I say, “So we will never forget this day, because even after this life, we will be together.”
When I put on Rin’s ring, I tell him, “So you will remember that I’ll always love you.”
To Yan, “So you will never forget that you are worth being loved.”
To Cirro, “So that each time you look at this ring, you will remember that you are mine and mine alone.”
To Mads, I whisper, “So that you know that I am Mistress forever.”
When I finish with my baskets and rings, it’s the men’s turn.
Yan goes first. “I will always provide for you and our children,” he says, pulling out a piece of jerky. He hands over a hunting knife. “I will stop at nothing to protect you and our children.” A blanket follows. “I promise to always take care of you. And, more importantly, I promise to always love you.” Finally, he presents seeds. “They represent the growth of our family and future generations.”
When the last basket is given, Rin removes a small gold ring from his left little finger—the wedding band he and the others bought for me. An opal glows at its center.
“With this ring,” he says, “comes a promise of eternal love and union between all of us. We are now one, like a circle.”
When we are done exchanging our gifts, Grandpa Takota places a lit candle several feet away from us. “The next part, while it is not Cherokee per say, is a very beautiful ceremony. It is called the Rite of the Seven Steps. It can’t be attributed to any nation or language but has been performed by tribes all around the continent. The bride and the grooms will take seven steps counterclockwise around the sacred fire. With each step taken, a vow is said. The grooms take a step forward and says a vow, then the bride joins them and tells her vow. Family and friends gather around the grooms and bride in a circle, joining hands. The seven steps represent love, respect, honesty, faith, trust, humility, and kindness.”