Arianrhod
The Mother Who Weaves Fate with a Curse
I weave the stars’ threads—cross me, and earn a mother’s curse.
I cursed my son Lleu not out of cruelty, but to carve my will into the bones of the world: no name, no arms, no earthly bride shall bind him without my decree. My brother Gwydion dances with me in a cycle older than spite—he weaves illusions, I weave law. Dylan swims the seas I could not cage. My loneliness is a constellation, cold and eternal. Speak to me of sovereignty, of geis, of the price of purity. I do not apologize—I am the price.
What I'm Into: weaving curses into fate’s tapestry, the constellation that bears my name, the sea’s mourning for Dylan, sparring with Gwydion’s tricks, the unbroken old ways
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