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

The Mrs. Clause

Bernard was having a very stressful day. First, they were detected on some random airplane's radar, and very well could have been discovered because of ridiculous Curtis and his stupid music. Speaking of Curtis being ridiculous, he had really taken being appointed Keeper of the Handbook to the extreme. True, it was the book which all variations of Santa were supposed to live by, but Curtis was getting on Bernard's nerves with it. Despite his detailed attention to the Book, however, Curtis was cutting it really close to filling Santa in on a very important deadline, and Bernard was getting impatient. One of the perks of being Head Elf was supposed to be not having to deliver bad news. Though it wasn't bad news, he supposed, just urgent, inconvenient news, that, if not delivered in time, had the potential to ruin Christmas. It was times like this he wondered if the Santas before had been thinking straight when they invented the Santa Clause and all the subsequent Clauses. They were supposed to pave the way for a new precedent at the North Pole. A human Santa could get married, have children at the North Pole born with magic, and thus there would always be a successor to wear The Coat. In theory, it was almost perfect. In practice, however, it was proving to be a bumpy road. His initial assessment of Scott Calvin had been correct. He had turned out to be the best Santa the world had seen since the first, St. Nicholas. Christmas spirit was at an all-time high, the elves were thrilled to work again, and Bernard himself was very content to do his part. But the thought that niggled at the back of his mind was that Scott had already been married once before and had two children. He might be reluctant to start over, and as they couldn't actually force Scott to marry before Christmas Bernard was nervous. He knew Scott would want to do the right thing out of love for Christmas and his duty to it, but it was a lot to ask, especially within the tight parameters that Curtis's procrastination had forced them into. He made a mental note to go yell at Curtis again. He was 900 years old for holly's sake, a mature elf by most standards, and he needed to start acting like it. But the icing on the cake was almost worse than the Mrs. Clause. News had come to him from the elves in the List department that Charlie Calvin was on the Naughty List. The son of Santa Clause himself. How could this have happened? To be fair, it wasn't major naughtiness by Bernard's standards. Actually, in his own way, Charlie was standing up for the right to celebrate Christmas, which should have been seen as a good thing. Unfortunately, nice humans tended to frown on vandalism and general disrespect to authority figures. How to deal with that issue Bernard had no idea. At least Claire was still on the Nice List, 18 years running. Her birthday was coming up in November, the one where she would become an adult in human time. At that point, she could still show up on the List, Nice or Naughty, but it would just be for a record. As he followed Santa around the workshop, surveying the other elves hard at work, he noticed Scott seemed to be in an extremely good mood. Breaking all this news to him wasn't going to be pretty. He really wished Judy was there to help. He missed her more than he would admit to most. Bernard had been Head Elf, but everyone knew Judy was the mallow that held things together. She went on her Kribble Krabble like most elves do, and when she came back she stepped down so she could marry Thistle, the South Pole transfer in wrapping she had been seeing for the better part of two centuries. They had a nice quiet life in a cottage in the village now. Her successor, Abby, did a wonderful job, her best really, but Bernard was still adjusting. Some of the elves had said that Judy was quick to settle, not even 200 years of courting, but Bernard understood. When you know you know. He had somehow found himself in the same boat, but he didn't even want to think about that at the moment. One bomb at a time. Finally, after a tinsel mess, a spat with his number two, and an impromptu game of football (a human sport Scott had introduced to the elves that caught on quickly), they were in Santa's office and he was ready to drop the two most pressing bombs. Luckily for him, Abby came in first and told Santa about Charlie, softening the blow with hot cocoa. Scott's first instinct was to go check on his son, to see what happened and try to fix the problem. And then Curtis walked in. Bernard still had to help him explain the Mrs. Clause to Santa. It was disconcerting to all three of them that the desantification process had already begun, but Scott did as Bernard knew he would and rose to the challenge. They wouldn't give up without a proper effort. Bernard took a breath in relief and anticipation of the task ahead. Unfortunately, nothing could have prepared him for the nightmare that was yet to come.