For the Love of an Elf (Bernard the Head Elf romance)

It Wasn't a Dream

Bernard sat in his office long after most of the elves had settled in for the night, contemplating the events of the past 24 hours. This wasn't his first Santa swap, not even his first as Head Elf, but this one was different. This was the first human Santa Claus, and he could feel it in his bones just as sure as he knew December 25th was Christmas Day. Scott Calvin was perfect for the job, he just didn't know it yet. Despite this fact, Bernard's head hurt. On the off chance that this human Santa experiment didn't work out, well, he didn't want to think about it. Most adults had trouble believing in magic anyway, but Scott Calvin was particularly stubborn. He let out a heavy sigh. The new Santa would soon enough be forced to either accept the coat or he would singlehandedly ruin Christmas. He thanked his lucky stars that this Santa had children. By all figures, that should make the acceptance easier. The children could still feel magic, they would believe, and help push Scott into this new role. Bernard's thoughts then turned to the children in question. The boy, Charlie, was your typical child. He had been on the nice list every year thus far, and he wholeheartedly believed in what he saw in the workshop. He believed his dad was Santa, and he would have no trouble believing as long as he took care of the Ball. The girl though, she was different. He couldn't put his finger on it, and it bothered him. After a brief search, he had found her on the List. Claire Calvin, also a long-time nice list occupant. Based on her past Santa letters, she consistently enjoyed dolls, then reading, and crafts, but a few years ago, she had written THAT letter. The letter most children find themselves writing at least once in their youth. The one Santa can't help with, but is simultaneously the first resort for. Claire had asked for one thing that year, that her parents stop fighting so much. Unfortunately, Santa's magic, powerful though it is, doesn't extend to matters of the heart. The next letter, her 7th Christmas, was her last. She wrote that she no longer believed in Santa Claus, reason unspecified, and that she was merely writing a letter to keep up appearances for her little brother, because she wanted him to keep believing. The last three years had just been drawings, still keeping up appearances, but as she addressed them to Santa, they found their way to the North Pole anyway. Bernard had sat for a long time reading and rereading her letter that year. He had wondered what kind of selfless little girl she was, and now he had finally met her, and he desperately hoped that what she had seen so far was enough to restore her belief in Santa. He was shaken from his thoughts by the creak of his office door, and looking up, he saw the very child he had been thinking about. He stood, rounding his desk and giving her what he hoped was a friendly smile. 'Claire, what are you doing up? It'll be time for you to go home soon.' She smiled shyly back at him. 'I got lost on the way back from the kitchen. I think Tinsley forgot about me.' Bernard suppressed a laugh. Tinsley was one of the younger elves, and had just begun to be assigned official duties in the workshop. She could be clumsy and absent-minded, but he knew she meant well, and thus he had something of a soft spot for her, though he'd never let her or anyone else know it. 'I guess it's ok that I got lost.' She continued. 'I'm not tired anyway after the cocoa she gave me.' At that, Bernard rolled his eyes. 'Of course you're not tired, Angel. Judy puts extra chocolate in that stuff.' 'It was really good though', she said quickly. He did laugh then. 'Yeah, it is really good. Why don't you let me take you to your dad, and when you wake up again, you'll be back in your own bed.' She didn't look too thrilled at that prospect but quietly agreed. Seeing the look on her face, suddenly he had a different idea. 'Or, you could hang out in here for a little bit, if you'd prefer.' Her eyes lit up at that. 'Yes, please.' He waved an arm around his office. 'It's not very interesting, but you can touch most anything you want. There's lots of books. Most are written in elf languages, but some have pictures.' She looked up at him. 'What's your name?' He hadn't even told her his name? He must be slipping. 'My name is Bernard. It's nice to meet you, Claire.' He stuck a hand out for her to shake, but she just looked at it dubiously. 'What's wrong? I don't bite, I promise.' She looked up at him. 'How do you know my name? I didn't tell you. And why is everyone calling my dad Santa?' He was confused for a second before remembering she had missed the "orientation" in the workshop. 'Well, sweetheart, your dad put on the red suit after the other Santa Claus fell off your roof last night. He read the card, put on the suit, delivered the toys, and the reindeer brought him, and you, back to the North Pole. He is officially the new Santa Claus.' She scrunched her eyebrows together. 'Man, this is one weird dream.' She wandered over to his bookshelf and started looking. He followed right behind. 'I'm sorry, what did you just say?' She didn't look up. 'It's a dream, right? I'm sleeping right now, and I'm having a really good dream because I drank two cups of hot chocolate last night, with extra marshmallows, of course. I'm only supposed to have one, but dad is a softie. It sucks though, because I kinda don't want to wake up from it.' Bernard knelt down beside her and put a hand on her shoulder. 'Well, that's good, because it's real. Your dad is Santa, and he should be for a long time.' Claire gave him a dubious look, and he sighed. 'Come here a minute.' He guided her to a cloth covered bench in the center of the room. 'Think real hard about your favorite present you ever got on Christmas. What was it?' It took almost no time before Bernard saw it in his mind, and a minute after that, he was holding a baby doll, small and pink and beautiful. He remembered this doll. It had been number one on tons of little girls' Christmas lists several years ago. Claire gasped. 'Amanda! How did you know? How did you just, poof?' She looked up at him in wonder, and he gently handed the doll to her. 'Just a little elf magic. No big deal.' She stroked the dolls face, smiling, but when she touched an ear, the smile fell. 'What's wrong, Claire? This was your favorite present, right?' She stole a quick glance at him, then said, 'She was. Is. I was just thinking she would be prettier with pointed ears, like you have. Maybe glittery cheeks, too. But I'm still happy. Thank you, Bernard.' He paused only for a moment before reaching out and touching the tip of one ear. The doll's ears turned to points before Claire's eyes, and she squealed. The cheeks were next, glitter spreading with a brush of his finger. 'Thank you! Thank you, Bernard! She's perfect.' 'You're very welcome, Angel. Are you tired yet?' As if on cue, she yawned big. 'Not yet.' Contrary to that statement, she scooted over on the bench and lay down, her small head falling in his lap. She wrapped her arms around the doll and said in a tired voice, 'Will you tell me a story? Any story is fine.' Bernard had been frozen, hands in the air as she made herself comfortable. It was odd. He knew he usually gave off a rough impression on people and elves alike. It was part of being the Head Elf, but this girl either didn't notice or didn't care. Slowly, he brought his hands down and ran one through her soft, dark hair. Before he could start reciting The Night Before Christmas, he heard a little snore. He was about to just carry her back to Santa's room when she disappeared in a flurry of magic. Bernard breathed a sigh of relief. It was time for him to get some rest, too. He had a lot of work to do.