Work Text:
Goodie Whemper was not the strictest moralist among witches, but even so Magrat had to dig deep in the collection of her books to find the one she so desperately needed in the weeks leading up to her marriage. She found it discreetly stored on the bottom of a chest. The cover was red leather, and the name written in modest letters, but it left no doubt as to the subject it discussed.
Magrat blushed to hold it. Certainly she knew the mechanics of the ordeal ahead, knowing something about animal husbandry, but she suspected there was more to it when it came to humans; even more than what Nanny Ogg had so far explained. Flowers, perhaps, or poetry.
She opened the volume carefully, and sat there, cross-legged and absorbed, for the better part of an hour, sometimes exclaiming in surprise.
When she closed it at last, her head was brimming with ideas, and she was worse prepared than ever. As it turned out, Magrat and Verence's wedding night ended up rather comical. It bears testament to their love that they ever got over the embarrassment, but that they did, and eventually even began to understood the things they'd read.