She was given the name...[Origins]

She was given the name Addfwyn and she was not born in the forest.
Like many she found herself there and seemed to accept this fact without complaint.

It was not as much a name as a hope left by her parents on the day of her birth.
Quiet, meek, complacent, and obedient were personality traits prided by her parents.

The village, on the other hand, put more stock in a gal's ability to lift a sow over her shoulders. The young men were sent to fight a never-ending war and the daughters stepped in to pick up the slack.

She grew up as one could expect of a child named "Addfywn."
She was strong and resilient, but never exceptionally beautiful or endearing. She did not have "silky smooth hair", "Eyes like a sunset", "a tender heart," or any other descriptions from a harlequin romance.

This reality was never a burden on the girl's upbringing and she was long admired in the village for her skill with reviving sick animals. It was more common sense than any mystical power or long held family secret, but it was met with the same reverence and awe.

The second gift bestowed on this girl was her story telling abilities. It started, at a young age, as a way to explain the disappearances of supplies and soon expanded as a way to entertain the children while she worked.

She stayed with her parents working in the fields through her early years of life. She would tend the herds and stand as a silent sentinel watching closely as the recruiting band came to town with their offers of wealth, patriotism, honor, and valor.

Then, as she retired at the end of the day, she would meet the band again passing the other way. The young men were entranced by the fanciful stories the men in uniform shared and eagerly followed in suit. They left with loud hooting, banging drums, and the general rowdiness she had learned to detest in the field.

Addfywn was reminded of the story of the pied piper and had attempted to chat up the returning veterans when they stopped in the town's tavern. They humored her chattered and listened to her tales and, as the night wore on, she silently stood by the edge of the kitchen doors and listened to their tales in turn. They would never allow the horrors of the never-ending war to reach innocent ears, yet the sharing of tales amongst themselves were a form of healing and acceptance of reality.

These stories were ones that she would never dream of sharing. What was the point, she reasoned, in ruining the hopes and dreams of a bunch of silly string bean boys who wanted to go off and become heroes? More so, if they did not leave she would be forced to work a long side of them for the coming season.

The seasons changed, the boys continued to leave, and she matured into a young woman. It was a never ending cycle following the harvest seasons. It was a routine, steady, and familiar existence that she had grown accustomed to.

The cycle, influenced by the boyish charms of destiny, had changed dramatically the day she met him.
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I promised a new series so I thought I'd start the back story of one of my favorite characters.

It will probably only be 1-4 stories at most and I hope you enjoy following the small series.