Chapter 6 – A Christmas Dance

Elsa watched from the sidelines as the villagers danced in the gathering twilight of a winter afternoon, thinking happy thoughts about Anna and Kristoff. It wasn't like Kristoff to grandstand like that, but it had certainly added to the general joy of the day. She almost wished she'd accepted Kristoff's invitation to dance, but of course that was impossible. Even if she wanted to dance, she didn't know how and was too embarrassed to admit it. Singing lessons had been permissible for someone like her; dancing lessons most certainly were not.

Bern swirled through a dance pattern with Lady Charlotte as Lord Alan danced with his daughter, Sophronia. Her eyes wandered over these people, her people. She'd always felt the burden of responsibility as their monarch; today she'd felt some of the joy of being part of their community. She was absolutely sure that some of them liked her. And so it was enough to be here today. She'd talked to people, created snow castles for the children, given everyone in Arendelle a sack of grain, purchased a tapestry that would always remind her of summer, watched her sister get engaged, and sung her heart out. Christmas had been wonderful.

As twilight fell, people began going home, carrying sleepy children, stopping for one last mug of hot chocolate, calling out farewells to friends. Those who had come down the mountain from hamlets and hollows hitched up sleds to horses and glided off to the accompaniment of jingle bells on the harnesses. As the musicians announced that this next number would be the last dance, Bern came over and offered to walk her back to the castle. Dozens of people watched them as she laid her hand on Bern's arm, but they were not accosted like Kristoff and Anna.

Olaf ran ahead of them as they walked back through the stone arch towards the causeway. He dropped on the ground next to the cleared paths and rolled himself up into an enormous snowball. Then he shook himself off, laughed, and did it again.

"Bern, with your musical talent, why are you my Councilor over Economic Affairs rather than a musician like the ones you played with today?" Elsa asked.

"They're not professional musicians either, Elsa. The flutist is also a dressmaker. The man on the violin owns a dry goods store. The other violinist is a private tutor. And the trumpet player is a cooper," Bern said.

"Oh! Do you know everyone in Arendelle Village?"

"Not quite, but close. I've tried to meet everyone involved in the economy, which is nearly everyone."

"Did you know them before you became a councilor?" Elsa asked.

"Many of them, yes. I met them because of my father at first, although I spent more time traveling with merchant ships than here in Arendelle up until I was appointed as councilor. Father was giving me more and more responsibility as his health failed and he tried to keep up his duties at the same time. By the time he had his stroke, I'd completely taken over his partnerships in shipping. We felt we were getting cheated by some of our foreign contacts, so I traveled on our merchant ships frequently while father handled things here at home," Bern said.

"How old are you?" Elsa asked, curious about the amount of experience he'd had when she assumed he wasn't much older than she was.

"Twenty-six. I started sailing with our merchant ships at twelve. So I had about ten or twelve years at sea and in foreign ports before I became a councilor. Besides the official business, I liked sailing. I bought a sailboat a few years ago. If you'd like, I could take you sailing this summer."

"Out in the harbor?" Elsa asked. She'd never left dry land.

"Into the fjord, if you're feeling adventurous," Bern replied. "We wouldn't go as far as the North Sea, though."

"I'll think about it," Elsa promised. Sailing!

Something occurred to Elsa that she hadn't thought of before. "How did it affect your business interests when we ceased all trade with Weselton?"

"I took a loss," Bern admitted. "They were our closest partner in trade, and I'd been to their country twice a year before the embargo."

"And yet you voted in favor of the embargo."

"I was at your ice palace, Elsa. I saw you fighting those guards. I can't even imagine what they'd done to you to provoke such a response, and then I saw the one try to fire a crossbow at you. I wouldn't have done business with Weselton again even if Rodmund hadn't proposed an official embargo against them," Bern said.

Elsa looked down and away, wondering what she'd ever done to win such loyalty from him. A thought popped into her head and she let it come out of her mouth, knowing that it meant she'd never be able to shut the door between them again. "Bern, if I ever do fall in love, I want it to be with you."

She met his eyes, and was touched by the hope and vulnerability she saw in them. She wondered what it would be like to run her fingers through the black curls on his forehead and then down his sideburns, which startled her enough that she took her hand off his arm. Then she took his arm again, lest she send the wrong message by letting go.

"Thank you, Elsa. I don't know what else to say. Except if there's anything I can do to help you out with that, please let me know."

She laughed. "Where did you ever learn to be so candid?"

"As a merchant, I developed a dislike for people who said one thing and meant another."

Elsa fell silent, and wondered what someone as honest and transparent as Bern would think of her lifelong mantra to 'conceal, don't feel, don't let it show.' Then she decided to match his candor. "Bern, I've done that most of my life. I let the entire kingdom think I was an invalid rather than admit what I was and what I could do. I kept a door shut between myself and the world. I let nothing show – you should disapprove of me."

"Were you hiding because you wanted to make a profit or because you were afraid?" Bern asked.

"Afraid," Elsa admitted.

"Motives matter. I don't tell people all my darkest secrets either, but it isn't because I want to cheat them," Bern said.

"I have a hard time picturing you with dark secrets," Elsa said, amused.

"I already told you my worst one," Bern said. "I've all but abandoned my parents and my mother hates me."

As secrets go, Bern was right, that was a dark secret, and not one to share frequently. "I'm so sorry about that," Elsa said. "I wish I could help."

"You're helping now," Bern said, and he took the hand she had on his arm and tucked it into his own.

Elsa almost jerked away from him, then took a breath and tried to match his candor a second time. "Bern, that's the reason I've kept the door shut between us these past several weeks."

"What?" he asked, puzzled.

She let go of his arm and pulled her hand away. "I can't do what I watch Anna and Kristoff do. They can't stop holding and kissing each other, and they like it. I just can't do that; I can't touch people or let them touch me."

They were almost at the castle now, and he slowed to a stop while Olaf went rolling through the courtyard. "Is it something about me?"

"No, not at all! I was raised with the idea that if I touched anyone or let anyone touch me, I could destroy them. Part of me knows that isn't true, but whenever there's a chance I might touch someone, my first feeling is fear. Please don't touch me," Elsa said miserably. "And if you want to go find someone more normal, you can. I promise I'll be very happy for you."

"So that's what I did wrong," Bern mused. "It wasn't the conversations, was it?"

Elsa shook her head.

"Well, that's good to know. I was wondering if this conversation was going to cost me another six weeks of distant formality with you," Bern said.

"You could find someone else," Elsa repeated.

"Elsa, do you remember Bishop Saholt's sermon from this morning?" Bern said, ignoring her suggestion again. "What struck you about it?"

Elsa considered. "The idea that God loves and accepts me even though I don't love and accept myself very much. I'd never thought of that before. What about you?"

"When he said God's love breaks through at our point of deepest fear," said Bern.

"That's happened to me already," Elsa said.

"Really? I won't pry if it's too personal," Bern said.

"Oh, I can tell you. I've been so afraid of other people, and yet I've been given a gift of empathy to understand and connect with the people I love. I thought it was Anna's magic at first, because it's so closely connected with Anna. But I think it comes to me directly, not through Anna," Elsa confided.

"You've literally received a gift from God that's transformed your deepest fear?" Bern said wistfully.

Elsa nodded. She hadn't had that peculiar feeling of falling into someone's heart for months now, and not for any people besides Anna and Kristoff. But the wisdom she'd gained in those brief flashes of empathy had shown her the way to strengthen and heal those relationships when they'd faltered. Oddly, the empathy had taught her what their deepest fears were, rather than anything positive. That was strange, now that she thought of it. If you wanted to get to know someone, wouldn't you want to know their strengths, rather than what scared them the most? Except strength is only part of a personality; anyone can conceal, not feel, and not let their deepest fears show – she wasn't the only one that did that. What she'd learned from falling into their hearts was the fears they kept hidden. You didn't really know someone until you knew their fears; you didn't really see their courage until you knew the fears they faced in their hearts. Elsa concluded that the empathy had shown her their strengths after all – she saw their efforts to overcome their fears: Anna's fear of being shut out, and Kristoff's fear of trusting people.

Bern didn't say anything more about deep fears, and Elsa didn't dare pry into something so personal. But her thoughts went wandering towards Bern and what he might fear most.

Bern got the door for her as they entered through the smaller west entrance. The main doors were barred shut today. She wanted him to continue talking about the sermon, but instead he said, "Elsa, would you sing for me if I played?"

"I want to hear you play first," Elsa said. "Queen's orders."

He smiled and conceded.

In the ballroom, Elsa lit the candles on the walls as Bern retrieved music from the musician's alcove and sat down at the piano. He ran a few scales as she borrowed the violinist's chair. Olaf was running races against himself across the ballroom as Bern launched into a concerto by Beethoven.

Elsa had positioned the chair so she could watch both his face and hands as he played. His long fingers danced over the keyboard, with the occasional mistake or faltered tempo because he didn't practice much anymore. But the sheer joy of music came through as he played, pouring out into sound and rhythm.

When Elsa felt God's gift of empathy for Bern, she was already expecting it. The falling sensation opened her soul and she fell into Bern's heart, knowing what she'd already guessed. Bern's greatest fear was rejection. After the way his mother had treated him, he'd come to doubt that any other woman could possibly accept him for who he was. And so he set himself up to fail; he'd set his heart on the most unattainable woman of his acquaintance – the queen who had locked herself away from humanity. God had quite a sense of humor, to let Bern choose the most impossible romance in the kingdom, and then arrange the situation so that he succeeded instead. A sense of inevitability about Bern settled over Elsa, wrapped in a warm blanket of peace. It wasn't love, not yet, but she wasn't ready for love anyway – it was enough to know it was waiting for her, just out of sight.

Bern pounded out the finale on the piano, and Olaf spun a final pirouette before he ended his dance.

"Beautiful," Elsa applauded as Olaf cheered, absorbing this new knowledge about Bern, and the change it would make in their relationship.

"Your turn now," Bern said. "Do you know this one?"

Elsa came to stand behind him as he set out the music for "O Holy Night." When she nodded, he began to play. She let the music flow through her, and her voice filled the ballroom and rang down from the rafters. At the end of the song, both of them let the silence linger a moment.

"Bern, can you teach me to play?" Olaf asked.

That broke the solemnity and they both laughed.

"Certainly, Olaf. We'll play a duet. Here, you play this key right here. Just keep an even tempo. Same key, don't stop." Bern let Olaf practice the tempo, then he started to play around Olaf's twig finger, runs and chords and melody, all wrapped around Olaf's one simple note. After several measures, Elsa recognized Bach. Bern went through the entire song to Olaf's accompaniment.

Elsa applauded when they ended.

Olaf bounced on the bench. "Can I play another one?"

"Try this one," Bern said. He demonstrated a broken chord in a waltz rhythm. "Use your left hand on the low note, and your right hand to press these two keys at the same time." He waited until Olaf figured out how to play the chord with his twig fingers before he walked out to the dance floor and looked back at Elsa. "We aren't going to dance, I promise. I'm just going to show you how to step in time to the music." Bern put his hands behind his back and stood there patiently.

Elsa put her hands behind her back as well and walked out to the dance floor, facing him from about three feet away.

"Like this," Bern said, and counted off the steps as he showed her the box step that formed the foundation of the waltz. "When I step forward, you step back. See? So it's the same step, but the opposite leg. One, two, three, step, two, three, repeat, two, three."

On the third repetition, Elsa began stepping with him, watching his tall black boots closely, brow furrowed in concentration. Her red skirts swung to the steps.

"Don't shift your weight until step three," he gently corrected her. "Step two is just a brush against the floor. Wait for the downbeat and we try it again."

Olaf kept up the broken chord on the piano, using both hands to reach the keys and counting audibly to stay on the rhythm.

"You're doing fine," Bern said. "Now we start to turn in a circle at the same time we're still stepping in a square. Just match what my feet are doing."

Elsa, hands still behind her back just like Bern, followed him as he began to turn them in a circle. To the accompaniment of Olaf's broken chord, Bern waltzed Elsa across the empty dance floor in untouching tandem.