He was given the name...[Origins]

Sequal to this story
_____________________________________________________________________________

He was given the name Rhys, and he was neither exceptionally skilled nor handsome. In truth he was, without trying, the bore of the village. He strolled around with a head full of dreams and a senseless wandering that lend itself to slacking and staring towards the sky.

It started out innocently enough. The old cliche of "eyes meeting across a crowded room."
This case, however, being a field crowded with sheep and a very irritable shepherd trying to maneuver a flock around a moron.

"I'm telling you! Just come lay down over here! Look they create like a tunnel"
"You're laying in dung. Get out of the way, you're wasting my time!"
"It's barely noon you have all the time in the world! It's not like they'll wander off!"
"MOVE!"

The majority of their conversations both started and ended in a similar fashion. He was reputed for a head full of air, she a head full of nonsense and stories, and both a distaste for the other's company.

It was not surprising to anyone, for this reason, that the two would be wed by the next summer. Every good story teller knows that the instant the spunky young lass argues with the ne're do well they are cosmically fated to fall in love and live happily ever after.

Happily ever after turned out to be exactly two months. Fairy tale cliches, as it happens, rarely seemed to account for the reality of a country locked in war.

Rhys left immediately to serve his country and Addfwyn was left with two realities.

One, that her husband was going into battle.
And two, that she was late.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Not sure when this will be continued. Probably in the next week or so.
Short stories are short.