(no subject)

[gwenhwyfar]

What is my real existence, I wonder. Some sort of bitter queen that runs off to the love she never has? A druidess to ensure the survival and to see the old ways flourish? Become a great queen and lead her people equally with her king? Or become like my dear teacher, Myrddin Wyltt, and become a recluse in the forests?

Why do I always wish for the latter?

Why does every road set out for me leads to pain except an existence where I'm hardly ever known? Perhaps, maybe someday, Gwenhwyfar, not Regina, will find an existence beyond some scourge and wretchedness. Truly, there is no hope for my kind, not even when the Christian god tries to drown us.

Comments

[gwenhwyfar]

If it were only that simple, Chika. Not only does my kind ride upon what I do, but so many lives in Cymru.

[afullmoon]

So this marriage ain't to your consent?

[gwenhwyfar]

It was arranged between Uther and my mother before I was born. My mother was desperate to keep the land under the rule of the old ways.

[afullmoon]

And from before they knew who you are, and what you wanted. Ain't that all class.

I never felt so lucky to be given up for an unwanted pup. So no consent. It's your wyrd for you to marry him-and it may save your people. No pressure.

Damn the conflicts bright eye. What do you want to do with this marriage, to a man you've never met?