The Christmas Controversy

Chapter One – A Bond Like No Other

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Two years had passed since delivering to the one missed child. A-hundred-and-four weeks since Santa Claus the 21st began his reign. And seven-hundred-and-thirty days since an inseparable bond between a Claus and an elf was born.

The fondness these two shared was unlike anything ever witnessed before. The family felt Arthur's enthusiasm when he spoke of her. And the elves at the Pacific Branch of Packing always noticed how big Bryony beamed when she saw his face.

After a long day's work, the duo enjoyed one-on-one quiet time where they sipped hot chocolate and confided in one another. Arthur's room was the finest setting: it was so blissfully somber with multi-colored mini lights and glow-in-the dark snowflakes.

One afternoon, while responding to some letters, Arthur received a text from his pint-sized pal, informing him of her bad case of the flu. He met her in the infirmary, bringing a mug of his mother's homemade peppermint tea: the way it caressed her throat was heavenly. And he need not say a word as he took a seat beside her: his presence, alone was enough.

The doctor prescribed Bryony with some antiviral pills and plenty of bed rest. Arthur checked in on her every so often. He had to do quite a lot of painful back-bends in the elf barracks but all that mattered was the wellbeing of his best friend. Bryony disagreed, however, insisting he lay down beside her.

Within a week, she was feeling much better and made sure to express her gratitude in person.

"Thank you for taking good care of me, Arthur," she said, planting a peck upon his cheek.

And the lanky young Santa felt warm and tingly for the rest of the day.

Only two days later, Bryony had taken the day off work to be with her best friend, as the passing of Grand-Santa was indescribably hard on him.

The Claus residence was dead silent, even with the whole family in the living room. Reclining on the sofa, the she-elf allowed Arthur to rest his head on her lap while she caressed that fluffy brown hair of his. It broke her heart to see her best friend so despondent. She softly shushed his sighs of sorrow and soon began to croon a tender melody.

Her angelic voice and gentle hands slowly but surely lulled him to sleep.

A week later, it was time for Grand-Santa's memorial service. Arthur's grief had eased, but he still needed Bryony's company. He found himself admiring her in that lacy black dress with the silky fabric train.

She stayed next to him the whole night, holding his hand and sporadically straightening his tie. He teared up when sharing his fondest memories of the comical old man. And the elf shed some tears of her own when he brought up their adventure in the sleigh.

As the night went on, Bryony began to notice the sparkle return in Arthur's baby blues. And it felt like a massive weight was lifted from her chest. It was so wonderful to see him smile again.

Arthur walked her back to her dorm around nine-thirty.

"Thank you so much for your support, Bryony." He said, seizing both her tiny hands. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

The wrapping elf blushed. "I'm always here for you, Arthur."

"I know." He knelt before her and lay a warm kiss just above her brow ring. "You can count on me as well. Goodnight, Bryony."

And as her rosy cheeks burned redder, she failed to resist the urge to smile. "Goodnight, Arthur."

Stepping inside, Bryony began to giggle her breath. She felt warm and fuzzy in the pit of her stomach as she touched where Arthur had kissed her.

Clutching her skirt, she twirled her way to her bedroom where flopped onto the bed and began to think. Why was she feeling so giddy about Arthur's kiss? Perhaps she was just a bit overtired? No matter. She had recruits to train in the morning so she needed to get some rest. It felt good to slip out of her tight-fitting dress and into some fleecy sleepwear.

Bryony went about her nightly routine with a clear head but as soon as she shut off the lights and got under the covers, her mind went right back to the kiss. She tossed and turned, far too tense to find a comfortable position. And little did she know, Arthur was having the same problem.

Not even the heated mattress could help him relax. Why was he thinking so much about Bryony? Why was he so excited about giving her a kiss? It was only a friendly gesture. What was wrong with him?

Perhaps looking at some children's letters would help ease his mind.