Something small drops from Arianrhod, his virgin mother. Her brother, Gwydion, scoops it up, sticks it in a chest of drawers, later hears something screaming from inside. Lo, it's Lleu.Arianrhod doesn't much care for Lieu, as he reminds her of her virginity, so curses him. She makes it where he can take no human wife. So Gwydion makes Lleu a wife made of flowers. She does just fine until...
(Here I should parenthetically interject that little Lleu Llaw lived his life under protective laws. He wasn't to be killed during the day or the night. He wasn't to be wearing clothes, nor be naked. He wasn't to be riding or on foot. And he couldn't be killed using any lawfully made weapon.)
...until his new floral wife cheats on him, then tricks him into giving up the recipe for his death. All she has to do is wrap him in a net at dusk, stand him up with one foot on a goat and one on a cooking pot, and stab the stuffing out of him with a semi-automatic spear, illegal at the time.
Upon dying, Lieu turns into an eagle, is turned back into a human by Gwydion, then, in turn, turns Petunia into an owl. You know. Myth stuff.
I swear I'm not making any of this up. I wikied it.
2 comments:
So who the hell is Petunia? Other than Porky's Girlfriend. Context would have me to believe she is the Floral Wife, but you must be clear on these things, Mr. King. Much of the world is depending on your guidance. The rest of the world is puzzling over the semi-automatic spear.
This story also proves just how strange the Welsh really are. I'm thinking of opening a vowel store there.
Petunia is Blodeuwedd. I remonickered her since Blodeuwedd doesn't sound too fleurlike. And semi-automatic spear is what you call poetic license. I have one and it's valid.
Yes, the Welsh are and have always been strange. And I'd like to buy a vowel, Pat, er, Geffo, but I doubt I can afford one. Thanks, anyway.
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