The troubadour who was always at the heart of the events she described in ballads that later became known as “Godstow Tales”, have aided her friends considerably. She had no skill in combat, yet she has proven that a pen can be mightier than the sword. For years after the death of Aelindis, she has travelled the world and collected stories from those who have attended the meetings at Godstow Abbey, to record them for the future generations. When the old age have made it difficult to travel, she settled down with Aleyn and Adelise, her lifelong friends.

University of Aachen, February 1972

Two students are walking past the main hall as the bells chimes for 3 o'clock. One of them, human, is wrapped up in a thick wool coat, with the collar turned up against the wind. Snowflakes get caught in his long hair and make it soggy. The other person is very clearly fae, with blue hair and a third eye on their forehead, is wearing a simple shirt, as if the cold didn't bother them at all.

“So, any thoughts on what you're going to write for Prof. Whittle?” asks the fae.

“You mean the essay on Édithe le Belle? Yes, some.”

“Go on?”

The human looks a little embarrassed.

“I always liked how she describes love. Every one of her stories is different. Rhydian and Blodeuwedd, Adelise and Aleyn, “The Tale of the Alley Cat”, “The Knight of Patience”…

“Ishri and Lahav?” interrupts fae, watching their friend's dreamy expression.

“Mal! No!” The human giggles.

“Hey, what's wrong with that?”

“It's not exactly a romantic love story. It's a good story, I'll give you that, just… it's so very different. I won't fit under the word limit if I even mention that one.”

“All right, fair enough. So, the love stories?”

“Yes. I know it's an easy topic, but I genuinely admire how she made them so realistic. Other writers from her time are just too generic…”

The fae shrugs.

“I was never that keen on love stories. Now, the “Knights' tales” and the story of Ichor, that's a good read.”

“Ok, so what about you? Is that will you write about?” asks the human, before giving the fae another opportunity to tease.

“Actually, I'm planning to look at the woman behind the stories. You know, who she actually was, what was she like. After all she was one of those called together by Rosamund Clifford, and then visited Tir N'Aill and achieved so many things with words that others did with swords. I know she included her own stories in the Godstow Tales, but there are various versions of those. The French and English translations original texts differ significantly. I even have an idea for a title. 'She who Sang Among the Fowl'.” The human snickers.

“That's easy for you though,” he says more seriously. “You probably know other fae who met Édithe. Like your parents.”

“Hey, you are more than welcome to come with me when I next visit them.”

“Nah, it's ok,” the human shakes his head.

“You know they have one of the original Kelmscott Belles, right?”

“You are kidding!”

The fae grins.

“The one designed by Morris and illustrated by Burne-Jones?”

“Same one.”

“All right, I'm sold.”