Ansure’s Origin Story
(Here it is finally, Ansure’s story. It’s a long one so buckle up. The rest is under read more. I hope you enjoy!)
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Ansure was very young when the new family moved into their little village. A blacksmith and his family, a wife and son. The village was happy and welcoming to the newcomers, especially grateful for an official blacksmith, something they’d been sorely lacking for a few years. His own parents, the stable runners, got along especially well with the family. That meant he spent time with the other young boy.
Ansure and Symon were almost inseparable from the moment they met. The two were beloved by the village, even got along well with the other children. They dragged each other off to their favorite places, to the bakery or the forge. They would stand with the other as they watched the masters at their craft, learning their interests.
They grew up together, Ansure always beside his friend and Symon always by his friend’s side, even if they were three years apart.
Ansure was barely twelve years when his parents died, killed by some men trying to steal the horses. He was distraught, retreating in on himself, barely talking to anyone. Symon was the only one to get through to him, consoling him and offering his friendship as a comfort. With time Ansure returned to normal, for the most part. The baker was kind enough to take him in and start to teach him his craft officially. This, along with Symon, helped him return from the shell he had built around himself.
In between their learning, Ansure from the baker and Symon from his father and mother at the forge, they remained inseparable even as they grew older. Ansure began to think him and Symon were even closer than ever though he would remain oblivious to the details. The townspeople saw it though, the bond that the two shared ran deeper than simple friendship.
When Ansure was fifteen Symon vanished, simply left the town without telling anyone. Not even his best friend. Ansure began to retreat into himself again, working harder at the bakery. No one would tell him not to since he was very good at what he did. He opened up again gradually through his work. The dreams of darkness that spawned wouldn’t stop, not for some years.
He inherited the bakery from the old baker when he was twenty, and became a favorite for travellers and the children. For everyone really, he was a master at what he loved best to do. The old baker joked Ansure was even better than himself. Everyone loved the new young baker as much as the previous.
A year passed and in that year he really seemed to grow into himself. Strong muscles and heavyset shoulders from lifting sacks of flower and jugs of milk. Equally strong hands from kneading dough and mixing batters. Yet gentle enough to handle cartons of eggs without dropping or breaking and steady enough to perform precision cuts to fruits and vegetables. And a kind face with happy caring eyes meets all of his customers, always making them feel welcome and comfortable. The travelers and visitors would be hard pressed to notice, but the townspeople and other regulars would sometimes notice the sad look hidden behind the kind smile on some days. This didn’t stop him from doing what he did best.
Halfway through that year bandits came to raid the village. Everyone knew well enough how do defend themselves and their homes, but there were many and the townspeople weren’t soldiers. The stablemaster left on the fastest horse to get help with the hopes that the people could defend themselves for long enough.
Ansure wasn’t too concerned with the bakery. Everything there could be replaced easily enough. He would worry of course, but others needed help. He wasn’t a fighter though he was strong and he knew it. So after he knocked out a bandit and threw them from the bakery, he saw the old woman across the street that sold flowers in trouble. She looked so scared. He couldn’t hide inside and watch. He ran over and grabbed the bandit from behind and held him around the neck knowing it was a weak point, and only letting go when they went limp. He escorted old Miss Alicen to his bakery and told her to hide there.
That’s how it went, him going around helping people how he could until help arrived. Soldiers from the nearby city rode in halfway through the day. Ansure felt so tired by then, exhausted physically and mentally, guarding his bakery where other townspeople were huddled. The place that held the most ‘weapons’ other than the forge. Relief flowed when the sound of horses echoed around the town shortly followed by clashing weapons.
He was ready to just sit down and rest, but he heard shouts from down the street, a direction the soldiers hadn’t gone yet. One of the voices he recognized. He felt frozen, afraid, until more shouts. He took off down the street, running as fast as he could, exhaustion forgotten. His heart got louder and louder in his ears the closer he got to the familiar house.
The voices inside quietened just before he shoved the front door open. No sounds, no voices. “Challes?” He called once.
A sound from the kitchen. Ansure’s steps quickened in that direction. Once more he froze when he finally saw his mentor, his guardian. He barely had time to process it before he was knocked to the ground by a strong force. It took him getting hit in the face for him to realize he should fight back. Even then he was sloppy. It became a pushing match for him, shoving with all of his remaining strength. An opening came to him suddenly, he spotted it. His knee came up hard into the bandit’s gut. This gave Ansure the time he needed to stand and deliver a last blow to knock the bandit out.
Finally he could collapse next to the unmoving form of the old baker. Gentle yet shaking fingers touched a lifeless face. The same fingers curled into a fist to press against an unmoving chest. “I’m sorry.” A muttered whisper full of despair and hopelessness.
Footsteps sounded behind him. He stood and spotted the blade coming at him. There was barely enough time to raise his arm. The sword bit into his arm and a kick knocked him back down. The sword raised again but a blur came in and attacked the bandit before he could do more to the young baker.
The face that stared down at Ansure afterwards had his breath get caught in his throat. That familiar face now decorated with a thick beard seemed to soften. “Symon?” Ansure could only get that name out in a whisper, but it seemed to be understood.
The other man bent down and reached out a gentle hand to take one of Ansure’s, avoiding the injured arm. “We should go.”
With assistance from Symon, Ansure stood up. Barely stable though, he felt entirely drained. He didn’t release his hold from Symon’s hand as they walked back down the street, and the feeling seemed mutual if the way his hand got squeezed for comfort every now and then was something to go by.
The bandits were almost all cleared out by the time they reached the town center where a healer was helping those who were injured. Ansure was glad for Symon’s comforting presence as he got his arm tended to and wrapped. He was just as glad for it when they walked back to the bakery afterwards, and even more when they sat down in the now cluttered bakery.
Symon left him for a moment, but to Ansure it felt like another day had passed by the time his friend was sitting back beside him. A damp cloth started to wipe gently around his mouth, coming away red. Blue eyes met brown and staring was all they did for a long moment. Brown looked away long enough to fold the cloth and take a hand to swipe over sore knuckles.
“I’m sorry I left. I… felt like I had a duty to help others.” Symon’s voice rang out through the shop, the unsaid apology hanging in the air.
“I missed you.” Ansure’s voice was quiet and he was unsure if it was heard by the other beside him.
“I missed you too. Regret was with me the entire time I was gone and I thought of you often. I’m sorry.” There was the apology, but somehow it felt unnecessary now.
“I’m glad you’re back.” Ansure gave a heartbeat’s pause as Symon moved to swiping at the knuckles of the other hand. “Please don’t leave again.”
The hand was set down and the cloth tossed aside. Steady arms wrapped around Ansure and he laid his head on a shoulder. He felt Symon’s face bury into his hair, “I won’t. I’ll always be here for you.” The promise was mumbled. A promise to both of them.
It only took a week for the town to clean up and repair. To bury those lost in the attack.
Everything opened back up officially except for the bakery. Their baker still needed some time.
Symon helped him clean up the bakery, and spent every moment after with him. Helping him heal. Ansure was grateful for him. He expressed this while they were cleaning up his cottage on the edge of town. He watched as Symon stopped cleaning and stepped closer to take his hands. For the first time they were really able to look at each other.
Ansure couldn’t help but admire what he saw. A kindly intelligent face framed by long raven dark hair and a thick beard starting to take shape. Steady hands gripped his own and led to a lean and strong frame. Shining brown eyes stared up into his own. His heart beat faster with anticipation, warmth touching his face at the thought that was coming to life when Symon stepped closer.
One of those steady hands moved to his face, stroking a cheek and staying there. It was warm. As warm as Ansure knew his face was. He took his now free hand and did the same thing to Symon, gentle and warm. It felt natural to lean into each other’s touch. He didn’t realize he’d been waiting for this, but as they guided closer and lips met Ansure realized it was what he needed and never wanted to lose.
It was a sweet and gentle kiss. Short but not lacking. Both of Symon’s hands came to cradle his face afterwards and he felt utterly at home in this presence. “You can have a home here. If you want.” His words were a soft suggestion and he loved watching the brighter smile that came upon Symon’s features.
“I… would love that.”
Ansure knew he had a similar smile when he heard the other man’s response.
Of course that meant when they weren’t both working since Symon was going to take over for his parents at the forge and Ansure would be going back to the bakery the next day. The whole town knew almost immediately, and they weren’t exactly secret. Everyone was happy to see them finally making it official.
They were happy for many years with a daily routine, having breakfast, going to their shops, meeting for a lunch made by Ansure, closing and making dinner together, spending time together before the sun went down, and holding each other close in bed. It was perfect.
Ansure was a day past thirty when Symon mentioned a surprise after a nice day out. He managed to convince Ansure to take the day off, with some convincing from other folk. They went to a meadow in the forest near their cottage and sat with some good food provided by the tavern owner.
Once the basket of food was empty it got set aside and he followed as Symon took his hand and led to a blooming tree. “I have been thinking about this for a long time.” He began and Ansure listened with some amount of curiosity. “Far too long I think. I, uh.” Symon sighed in what seemed like frustration and ran a hand through hair that he left free today.
Ansure frowned in concern and squeezed the hand that still held his. “Is something wrong?”
“No!” Symon was quick to answer and Ansure’s concern changed to confusion. “No, not at all.” Another pause as Symon seemed to think. “I wanted to show you how much I truly care for you, and everything else I have already done or it simply did not seem enough. This was all that was left I could think of and it feels right.” His hand disappeared into a pocket and came out holding a ring.
Now it made sense to Ansure. He felt frozen and yet warm with love at the same time. Symon held the ring out and Ansure was careful as he took it to look at. A masterfully crafted little thing made of silver with delicate engravings of ripples like flowing water. He looked back at Symon and saw the other man embarrassed and red in the face. He took the ring back and held it properly as he asked. “May I ask for your hand?”
The question was barely out before Ansure was answering with enthusiastic nodding. “Yes, yes of course.”
The ring slid onto his finger a perfect fit. They were both overjoyed at the prospects. The village seemed even more so when they learned. The whole town showed up to the ceremony and even some regular visitors. In the years after if anyone dared criticize their marriage they got thrown out of town by anyone in earshot. No matter who they may be.
Now they are thirty-seven and forty with seven more years of happiness with many more sure to come.