There By the Grave

For a long time, I have been doubly fascinated with the people of 10th century Mercia in Wessex...There's aomething distinctly wrong about me, and I need to get a life, I know...But just LOVE the Anglo Saxon history, culture, and writing! So I did a fanfiction on the Lady of Mercia, who was a real person. Daughter of King Alfred the Great, a woman warrior, and my main Character was her Daughter Aelfwyn, who somehow mysteriously vanished from historical records after her mother's death. No lie! THis was a lot of fun to write, and I hope you enjoy it. ^_^

The daughter’s disaster

Ælfwyn stood there by the grave
The priest read from a book
Not knowing how she should behave
She stood and sobbed and shook

Her mother was now in the ground
Ah, Death had brought its sting
Far off she heard alarm bells sound
An eerie distant thing

Then Uncle Edward stormed that place
They bound her like a slave
She bore up beneath this foul disgrace
Her heart was soft but brave

They took her into Wessex when
They had annexed her land
She was just fit for breeding then
The way Edward had planned
~Old-English Poem

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I stood before the grave of my mother, lying in the tomb of dirt, forever lifeless, her pale skin matching that of the Arum lilies surrounding her figure. Her dead hands gripped the very sword she had fought with in so many battles. Her tombstone rested just atop the cliff of dirt where her body now laid. Its letters were freshly engraved into the stone, reading:





Those words stung like glass shards that have pierced into my skin, and caused me to cry unwillingly. I was not ready for her to die, as I wasn’t ready for my father to die seven years ago. I had easily assumed that both my parents would be fine. They have both fought in so many battles throughout my life; it became difficult to believe that their lives were always in constant danger. The only real difference I saw whenever they returned from battle was a few extra wrinkles lining their faces due to age, and some battle scars.

I longed sorely for the life of my mother to return. To be able to see her smile, and speak my name at least one more time, to feel her long blonde hair, which was always wiry and coarse from being outdoors in windy landscapes. But she never budged. Her lips had been set in a peaceful, thin line, completely different from her pained expression when her comrades hustled her body over to the Tamworth castle.

Her hair was now combed and braided in a way that draped delicately over her shoulders, and an elegant dress in the color of deep green fell from either side of her figure. Never have I seen her so beautiful. She always dressed simply when she was at home, and was covered with armor whenever she was on her way to war.

My heart thumped slowly and erratically throughout the priest’s sermon over mother’s funeral. I felt my hair come loose from the gusts of wind, sending my wispy curls to blow gently across my face. My black dress flew freely around my legs, and the grasses swayed somberly with the wildflowers. I was not the only one in the morose setting to be crying.

No one could match the bravery and courage that my mother had. Her very own childhood had revolved completely around battling the Danes. She used everything in her power to protect her kingdom. She married my father, Ethelred, to form an alliance between Wessex and Mercia; ruled after father’s death; and fought in battles against to the enemy since the age of fifteen years old. She had fought with every breath she had in her, taking many risks and hardships to protect the people of England.

I would never be a warrior quite like my parents. I preferred the peace and tranquility behind the safety of the castle’s walls. While they spent their free time practicing their sword play, I spent mine reading the books found in our vast library.

But, even amidst all our differences, we still made sure we had time to be together as a family. That would be the hardest part for me to accept…to no longer able to spend time with my parents anymore. The only family I had left, were the ones I knew only through politics. I had only my cousin Æthelstan to really cherish like a brother. He had spent many years living in Mercia with my family and me. His Father, King Edward had sent him here due to problems at home. He never revealed to me what the issues were in Wessex at the time, but I enjoyed sharing the company with someone my own age. Other than that, I barely knew any of my relatives except by their name and appearance.

I didn’t realize the priest had stopped speaking until I heard my Aunt Æthelgifu, the Mother Superior in the convent in Shaftesbury, Wessex, step up to the grave and sing out a prayer heavenward. To be honest, I don’t think I would have had the strength to sing as she did. Her voice, though aged, was sweet and pure, resonating in just the right spots. Her voice was clear in the throat, whereas mine felt clumped with emotion and oncoming tears. I envied her courage and sweet voice.

All too soon, the diggers began to bury my mother’s pale body during the third stanza. I couldn’t bear watching the dirt be flung against my mother’s face and body, seeing the dirt smear inelegantly against her porcelain face. I turned my own face away from her direction for the first time since we’d arrived at the gravesite. Tears trickled down my cheeks in a loose, but controlled way. I didn’t want to cry too hard; otherwise I’d drown out the ceremony with my wails that were anxiously waiting to be let out. To help restrain myself, I clenched hard against the single Arum Lily I held in my hand, causing the stem to snap.

I didn’t see Æthelstan approach me, and I jerked in slight surprise as his arm wrapped around my shoulders in a hushed, comforting manner. What would I do without him? I looked over, and saw the tears clouding his crystalline eyes. Only his clenched jaw gave away how much it cost him to remain calm

I closed my eyes, attempting to look elsewhere other than to Æthelstan. His profile matched exactly that to my mother’s side of the family: Dark Blonde, windblown hair, freckles, pale skin, and clear blue eyes. Æthelstan resembled my mother so much, that it hurt to just look at him.

Æthelgifu repeated her chorus, and I made a sudden, inexcusable escape. I gathered my long black skirts and bolted, snapping my arm away from Æthelstan’s grasp. Eyes trailed my quick run for it, and I could feel the sympathy that was guardedly behind them. I bore no sympathy in return. All that existed at the moment was the hollowness of my own soul.

Æthelgifu’s song didn’t cease, but rather, it trembled in a way that was different from the reverberations used in the dirge. My inexplicable course of action had seared her right to the heart, I could tell as she sung. She pitied me. Ignoring her judgment, I just pounded my feet heavily against the soft grass that grew around the many other tombstones that sat in the cemetery. I allowed my tears to fall freely as I pressed on, feeling its hot moisture turn cold and then dry from the wind licking up the trail they left on my face.

Blood pulsed angrily through my veins, and deafened me from all outer noise. Æthelgifu’s song had faded into a distant hum, and the bells that tolled at the Tamworth castle became muted, leaving me to hear only my thundering heartbeat. I was the only one left carrying royal Mercian blood. I would now be worth a huge bounty to the enemy. I knew now, that my life would be in greater peril than it had ever been before.



I locked myself in my bed chambers, mourning for two days. The angst had evaporated with my tears, but that only left me feeling even hollower than I had felt before. On my bed, I laid flat on my belly, and wrapped my arms around my lumpy pillow, staring vacantly at the abandoned and deformed Arum Lily.

I hadn’t eaten. My slave girl, Eabæ had managed to jimmy the door open and offer me a tray of food whenever she could, but I ignored it. I hid the food under my bed to keep her from worrying the others about my loss of appetite. Because if I didn’t hide it, chances were, she’d squeal out my little secret to the rest of the royal family. And since we both despised each other, it seemed all the more probable for her to do just that.

I knew well enough that I needed to pull myself together, because Mercia needed someone to rule them, and what good is a ruler who can’t even fend for herself? I had to focus on the tasks at hand, and not wallow over the grievances that followed the death of my mother.

There was a small knock on my door at the other end of my chamber room. “Ælfwyn…?” The voice was Aunt Æthelgifu’s. Quiet, but gentle. “May I come in for a moment?” I stared hard at the heavy oak wood door and brass knob, trying to force the voice away from existence from the other end, with no avail. “Ælfwyn?” Æthelgifu repeated. I gave up my mental withdrawal, and bid her in.

“What do you want?” My voice sounded neutral, and croaky—completely different from how I normally spoke.

Aunt Æthelgifu approached me. She was no longer in her nunnery habit, like the one she wore at the funeral, but she still faithfully wore her Rosary around her neck. “Dear Ælfwyn…” Æthelgifu sat down beside me on my bed, and tenderly stroked my fair curly hair. “You mustn’t keep pining away up here. It isn’t healthy. King Edward expects your company downstairs as well, so...that’s all the more reason to come back down to your family.”

Why did she seem to be struggling with words? Was she afraid of me? Scared of how I might react from whatever she had to say? She knew as well as anyone that it wasn’t in my nature to snap at people, so why did she seem so…ill at ease in my presence? While my gut reaction was to forwardly question her with her unfathomable behavior, I only asked “What does Edward want?” I tried to sound diplomatic about it. I wanted to prove to her that I was a young woman of eighteen years, and not the child she had seen running off from the funeral two days ago. The grown-up tone in my voice quivered in an aching misery that I couldn’t easily mask. The tears were slowly working their way back up along my face.

Æthelgifu looked at me carefully, considering her words. “He has…an announcement to share that you need to be aware of.”

“What kind of announcement?” My eyes bore into hers. Her eyes flickered back to the door, as if she yearned to be somewhere else rather than here. Why though, I had no idea.

“Let’s just say that it’s the type of news that you’re going to have to hear from him personally…” She said slowly. She didn’t want to lie to me, since it was going against everything she had worked for as a nun, but she also didn’t seem to want me to know what was going on either, yet had to be the one to bring me to the news, as a messenger. I could visibly see her trying to find some paths that spoke around the hard truth into something more generic. And she was trying too hard. I knew that Edward’s “News” wouldn’t be something I should feel excited about.

In fact, it unsettled me more than ever by not knowing what it was that was being hidden from me. And with my bright reader’s imagination, I came up with ideas that were better or worse than what Edward might really have to say.

I sighed unwillingly. “All right,” I mumbled. “I will go to him.”

At least this unknown announcement allowed my mind to dwell on things other than my mother’s death. There was a start.

“Ah, Ælfwyn, I’m glad to see that you’re out and moving,” Uncle Edward smiled kindly at me when I approached the castle lobby. I was unsettled at the look that he passed through my direction. His expression was warm, but it didn’t reach his eyes, like they normally did. He knew something…

I smiled back, out of respect, and bowed. Whether or not I was the only one in the kingdom who didn’t know what was happening, at least I knew I would find out soon.

I took wary steps his direction. I didn’t like the look that flickered across his face so briefly. It almost looked as though he had something evil up his sleeve. “I’ve been told by aunt Æthelgifu, that you had something to tell me?”

Edward nodded to Æthelgifu, signaling her, and everyone else to leave. Æthelgifu looked grateful as she made her silent escape. Only cousin Æthelstan remained behind Uncle Edward, and he didn’t look happy about it. He was avoiding my curious gaze.

Edward didn’t answer me right away. He instead took a sip of wine from a golden goblet that was in his hand, and grimaced at it’s bitterness after setting it down on one of the benches that sat in the Hallway. I was itching with curiosity. Uncle Edward took a step past me and nodded. “Yes, I did,”

I turned to face him, tapping my foot lightly against the floor in agitation. “And?” Edward’s back was facing my direction. He had his hands on his hips, and had tilted his head up to the roof, as if he was trying to follow the echoes that resonated up there.

I was getting impatient. “You can’t expect to bribe me to come out of my chamber room for news, only for me to find out you have none! If you need to say something, say it!”

At this, Edward chuckled. His voice was a lot deeper than most, and sounded more like the throaty growl of a wolf. He turned back in my direction, and stared me straight in the eye. “You are so much like Lady Æthelflaed...becoming more and more like her every day.”

I was taken aback at this. Hardly ever had people told me I was just like my mother. I was always told that I resembled more of my father. The lighter hair, silky curls…Though, people rarely told me I was like my father as well. They said that I was too detached from the world…too dry and disconnected. Never had people told me I was like my war hero of a mother. I had to take this as a compliment, though treat it diplomatically.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, feeling a small blush creep along my face.

So much for diplomacy…

Æthelstan directed an abhorred look at his father for reasons I couldn’t follow, but Edward ignored him.

“I have a proposition for you, Ælfwyn.” He stated, tilting his chin up authoritatively. At last, we were getting somewhere with this.

“What kind of proposition?” I asked all ears.

“Well, with your mother being gone now, and with Mercia left without a ruler…”

They do have a ruler, I wanted to interject. I was their ruler. But, I didn’t want to miss what I had been waiting to hear from him, so I didn’t say anything.

“I have decided to annex your land.”

I was shocked. After only two days since my mother’s funeral and he had his mind set on taking over my land? I took a deep breath to try and settle this appropriately. “But, that’s a decision you’ve made. It’s not a proposition, and it most certainly isn’t something you asked my permission for first!” I snapped, deciding last second that there was no way I could mask my emotions with this issue. “What gives you any right to decide to take Mercia like it was free meat in the market place? Because it’s not! I can and will rule my kingdom by my own rights!”

“Easy, lass. I haven’t even gotten to your proposition yet! There’s no need to get feisty.”

Feisty? He decides all of a sudden to strip me from all power, out of the blue, and without any proper reason, and he asks me not to get feisty?? At this point, I was much worse than feisty…infuriated was probably the right word that defined me at the moment.

“You must admit though, Ælfwyn, you know better than anyone that you can never rule a kingdom. Kingdoms have always been ruled by kings, not princesses who hide behind bookshelves and fantasies.”

Oh, so now he decides to provoke me? I puffed out my chest defensively. “In case you have forgotten, my lord, but your own sister was a solitary ruler in Mercia for seven years! And if my mother’s tales misled me, I do recall that you two were avid readers yourselves when you were younger! I promise you that I can rule Mercia on my own. If need be, I’ll marry a lad who can rule here as a king, if it’s a king you’re looking for.”

“He’d need to be of royal blood, and I believe all the other rulers are more than twice your age, except for your own cousin here, but I doubt you would wish to strive for that. Besides, when and if you do marry, I don’t think that any ruler could reign in two different countries at once.”

I opened my mouth to argue more, but Edward raised a hand to silence me. “Now my patience with you is wearing thin, so I’m going to just spit this out. My proposition for you is to either go to Convent with your aunt Æthelgifuas a nun, while I seize control of Mercia, or you can birth an heir for Mercia yourself.”

I dropped my jaw in horror. My chastity was very important in my life, and this land-loving pig wanted me to birth an heir against my will?! It was hard to believe that I was related to this monster and had loved him in years past…

“And if I refuse your…offer?” I retorted. “What then?” I knew he would have found something to back him up, because there was no way he could think that I’d let this slip through without a reason.

Edward’s eyes narrowed into tiny slits. “If you refuse to follow through the direct orders of a king, I will choose for you by force, and believe me, it won’t be pleasant!”

Æthelstan at this point couldn’t stand to hear any more, and stormed out of the room. My legs were itching to do the same. I wanted to get out of this nightmare, and wake up with my mother cooing me awake, and spending a lazy afternoon with me, alive, and well. I would have preferred anything besides what I was enduring at the moment. It was only the steadfast loyalty to my people that I remained where I was. I had to be strong…for their sake. I had to be the warrior I never was.

I glared back at my uncle, despising him profoundly. “I am not about to sacrifice my people to such a demeaning king as yourself. I was born with this responsibility, and I intend to die defending it! You cannot control me like some wretched puppet! I will not birth an heir that will grow up to follow your despicable manner! And I shan’t go Convent either! I have hopes to live in such the way that my parents did, bravely, boldly, and loyally. They died defending their country, and I intend to do the same! I won’t die a coward. And I certainly won’t lead like one.” I was surprised at my ferocity. I had never thought myself to be this courageous.

I could barely see Edward’s beady eyes; he was glaring so hard now. “Then you will not enjoy the suffering I am about place upon you, girl. Because whether you like it or not, I am annexing this land! I need all the land and power I can get before the Danes overthrow us!”

Oh, so that was his reason. “I thought my mother set peace to our quarrel during her last battle in Leicester.”

“Yes, so they claimed, but the Danes are still the Danes! They’ve been our enemy for many years, and are probably placing us under false pretenses. They could be planning to invade when we least expect it.”

“I can’t imagine who else could compare to something so evil.” I looked pointedly at him. “You are just as bad as your imaginary Danes! False pretenses, planning to invade, I wonder who else could do such a thing!”

“This is no time for your insolence, girl!”

“I am not a girl! I am Ælfwyn! A grown woman of eighteen years old, the daughter of you own sibling! I am not some petty child you feel you can push around and do what you request with ease.”

“Ælfwyn, I’m warning you!” Edward’s face was getting red, and his second chin was shaking with anger. I could almost see his blonde-graying beard fray and curl from his rage.

“Warning me of what, huh?” I asked, a little smug that I had dominated this point of the argument. I decided to leave it at that before he found something realistic that he could warn me about. I turned and left him, muttering “That’s what I thought.” My final rebuke was still echoing in the high ceiling, being followed by my angry footsteps as I exited the foyer, leaving Edward stunned to an angered silence.

I had decided against returning to my chamber room, knowing full well that once I entered, I wouldn’t leave. So instead, I ran out of the castle, past all the guardsmen who either knew what Edward had told me already and decided it best to let me be, or they simply didn’t care. I was leaning more towards option number one for obvious reasons.

I rode out past the field where mother’s grave had been, and towards the woods that bordered Mercia’s plains. Near the face of a forest, there was a tiny stream that flowed cheerfully across, lapping frivolously against the rocks that intercepted it path on occasion. I usually came out here to think, reflect, and let loose. Right now, my anger was impenetrable, and its ferocity could not be restrained. After tying my horse’s reins around a tree trunk, I kicked angrily at the ground below me, and threw pebbles out along the river’s bend with as much strength as my frail arms would allow me.

I was screaming my lungs out in frustration, and pulling at my hair. How could Edward do this? He had no right! I would not spend the rest of my days locked away in a cell and used only for the sole purpose for creating an heir! The very thought repulsed me, and cause me to kick again at the ground and hit a rock. My toe hurt from the contact, but at least I felt a little better inside. Not much, though.

From behind me, footsteps approached. Paranoia over swept me, and I snapped my head in the direction of the noise, fearing it to be Edward’s guards, ready to drag me away to my doom. God help me if it was. I feared never being able to see the light of day again!

What entered my presence was the last thing I expected to see. It turned out to be my slave girl, Eabæ. My scared expression turned hard and cold after seeing her arrive. Her red hair was dirtied, and her tanned hands grimy from work. Most of the slaves that worked in Tamsworth castle I liked and appreciated. But Eabæ and I had never really gotten along. She was my personal slave, and she did not perform very admirably in my presence. In fact, her loathing of me only enriched my hatred that I returned to her. She never followed through on my requests with good grace, and that always intensified my low respect for her.

“What are you doing here?” I asked frostily, turning my head away from her direction. I inwardly kicked myself. A more reasonable question to ask would be how she found me.

“Why, I’m happy to see you too, Lady Ælfwyn,” Eabæ sneered. “Oh, but I forgot, you will no longer be a Lady, will you? My apologies, fellow slave.”

I balled my hands into fists, turning my knuckles to a faint shade of pale white. Why had she come here? What point was there in bringing me down when I had already lost so much?

“By the way, thank you for the huge amount of leftovers you left for me under your bed. It was the most I’ve eaten in weeks.” Eabæ added. She stepped alongside me, only kept herself a few safe paces away from me.

I stared out into the depths of the woods, trying to smother my rage into a simmer. Maybe if I didn’t talk to her, she would go away.

Eabæ gave an exasperated sigh. “Look, I didn’t come here to argue with you,”

I glanced her in her direction. My curiosity was stronger than my aggravation at this point. “Oh? Then why are you here?”

Eabæ gave me a sidelong look, her face lined with solemnity. “To reflect, and share the innermost truth of what you will be facing.”

I grunted in irritation, and settled myself down on the soft fertile ground. “Great.”

Eabæ ignored my ignorant act, and plopped herself down beside me. I inched away just the slightest bit. “Look, I’m just going to say straight out: I never liked you. I still don’t like you. You are intolerable to every word I say, you are openly rude to me whenever I’m in your presence, and you don’t appreciate anything I do. I’ll admit I probably set off your loathing since I had judged you too soon myself. I had always thought you were a shallow and spoiled girl who had nothing but fantasies in her brain. So I wasn’t very kind to you because of my rude behavior, and that likely is what triggered yours.

“But, despite my impolite interaction with you, I also envied you…very much.”

My ears perked up at that. Eabæ was jealous of me? For what? I was nothing special. Like she said, my head was full of nothing but storybooks and fantasies. And I certainly couldn’t understand why she’d want as brittle a personality that I had.

Eabæ saw my confused expression and stared at me in shock, as though she had read my mind. “You have everything. Don’t you see that, Lady Ælfwyn? You have a comfortable bed, parents who loved you, and cared for you and your needs,” I flinched at the past tense “you have a different outfit for each day, manage to look clean, need I go on?”

I blushed out of stupidity and guilt.

Eabæ continued, “I am a slave. I work twenty-four hours every day, every week. My bed is whatever the staff and indentured servants can scrounge for us. Otherwise we—all twenty five of your household slaves—sleep in a small one-roomed house. On the floor. I got separated from my family in Northumbria eight years ago. I don’t have any idea where they are, or my sisters, Cathryn and Devona. Nor do I know if they’re still alive.

“When you misbehaved, you got a simple spanking. For us slaves, if we mess something up, we get beaten, and chained to a wall in a dark cell, and remain there for a number of days, or end up being forgotten, and die there, miserable and cold.”

My heart bled for Eabæ. Never had I known that slaves were treated in this way. Mother and father hadn’t ever told me of this evil. Having grown up with it, they probably got used to it, and thought nothing of it.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly. I didn’t know what else to say.

Surprisingly, Eabæ scoffed at me.

I glared sharply. After finally giving out a long-awaited apology for her, she laughs at me?

Eabæ obviously wasn’t waiting for my apology. She had something different in mind. “If you’re sorry for me, then you have no idea how sorry I’m going to be for you when Edward and his men claim you and take you to Wessex.”

Oh, so this was out of pity, was it? See if I ever talk nice to her ever again. I bit my tongue. I had to remember that I would end up in worse condition than her from the way she was putting it.

“This unnecessary discrimination was difficult for me to cope with at first. But that was because I was out in public all the time. Considered as nothing else but a dirty piece of property. You won’t be in public, Ælfwyn. You will be placed where the punished slaves go.”

Somehow, I found it difficult to imagine my own uncle treating me like that. But then I remembered what he said in the lobby: “If you refuse to follow through the direct orders of a king, I will choose for you by force, and believe me, it won’t be pleasant”

If I willingly agreed to go to Wessex with me, he would have probably made me a servant of sorts, with a real pay. I would need only to fulfill the one favor he asked of me, and go back to being a simple servant. But since I had denied him of both options—returning with him or going to convent with Aunt Æthelgiva—Without a doubt, he would choose the chained-slave idea, and stick true to his word in saying it wouldn’t be pleasant.

I shuddered uncontrollably.

Eabæ’s brown eyes grew soft, and for the first time, I saw sympathy on her freckled face that I had never seen before. I bent my head against my knees and started to cry. I had never been so wound up in emotion before. But my mother had died, my uncle turned evil, my life was now condemned to the role of a forgotten slave, I would be misused in a way that damaged my virginity, and my personal slave was suddenly being nice to me. Even a rock would have been bawling at this point.

Eabæ awkwardly wrapped her arm around my shoulder, just like Æthelstan did at the funeral, and just like my mother did when I was a child. I sobbed harder. “I’m sorry, Eabæ,”



It had been five days since the day of my mother’s funeral. Three days since my encounter with Eabæ in the woods. Three days since Edward announced his plans of annexation…And one more year before I would be taken into Wessex to fulfill my fate. Until that time, I would unofficially be ruling Mercia. My first decree; was to free each and every slave that roamed Mercia, though I was well aware that Uncle Edward would make sure scribes would cut this from historical records, and return slave-law once I departed. But while I could still make a difference, I did it nobly, trying desperately to rule as my mother had before me. Eabæ and I still didn’t get along, but we had a new distant tolerance for one another.

Each day, my end of rule would near closer and closer. I was counting down how many I had left with a heavy heart.



My eyes traced the pattern of Anglo-Saxon script that was etched simply onto an elaborate tombstone. I read my mother’s name over and over again…Lady Æthelflæd, Lady Æthelflæd, Lady Æthelflæd…a lightweight gown was draped over my shoulders and across my body, in a pale blue color, unlike the heavy black I wore to her funeral a year ago. In my hand, I held an Arum Lily.

Since upon arriving to her tombstone for the first time in ten months, I had a lot to think about. The symbol of the flower in particular. When I attended the funeral, I had bent the Arum Lily I had, and abandoned it on the floor as I ran off. I also remembered my mother’s body being surrounded by many Arum Lilies in her grave. I had decided that the Arum Lilies had represented my mother, and the one I had held represented me. Bent up, and lost, striving so hard to be like the other Arum Liles—or my mother. And I returned with the flower in my hand, now freshly cut and in full bloom. Grown up and straight, unlike my first flower. It represented me returning to her as a new person. Healed, and grown up. I felt I had to exchange this silent metaphor with my mother before leaving Mercia forever. Edward would be waiting for my return any time now. I dreaded the path ahead of me, but I welcomed it with open arms, ready for what was ahead. I had bloomed into the ruler my mother was. I had to accept the road I was to take, no matter how much I felt against it.

Tenderly, I laid my Arum Lily against my mother’s tombstone, freezing the image of it in my mind, so that my last memory wouldn’t be of the flower wilting. “I love you, mother.” I stepped back and gave my mother a final goodbye before turning back to the hilly field.

Pronounciations:

Æthelflæd: Ah-thul-flahd (meaning:Noble Beauty)

Ælfwyn: Aughlf-winn (meaning:Friend of the elves)

Eabæ: Eea-basch (meaning: unknown. name inventive)

Æthelstan: Aughthul-Stahn (meaning: Noble Stone)

Æthelgifu: Authul-Giff-oo (meaning: Noble Gift)

*note: not all ANglo Saxon names begin with Æ or æsc, King Alfred and his family probably just prefered the Æthel prefix regarding their noble reputation to beging with. It makes snse, since they were all royals...

Yeah, I know...I'm a nerd, I need a life....