Thank you for everyone who reviewed, followed or favorited this past week. You guys are great! :)

I SUCK! (Actually, I have a shipload of stuff to do the past few days, and I didn't sleep AT ALL last night writing this, but never mind.) I didn't get this posted by the nineteenth. *single tear*

Ah, well. *shrugs*

Here is the Chapter in honor of St. Nicholas Day. Because of this, there is a segment that relates to Christian themes, historically speaking. It is all in italics; if you don't like it, skip it. It's gonna be throughout the story (as it has been) so be warned.

(Insert usual and unusual disclaimers here.)

Mistakes are all mine. (Dang it!)

Okay, now for the Chapter.

YAAAAY!

Basically, we're going to hear a bit about why Ellington just collapsed in the end of the last chapter, some E/B moments that get pretty personal, including when Bernard (accidentally) ogles Ellington! WHAT?! I know. But it's T, I promise. ;) And we meet… (drumroll please…) HAROLD ISHMAEL!

Also: Being a serious Ringer myself, I couldn't resist Destiny's Gem's comment about Bernard being the shortest elf in Mirkwood. XD LMFAO for the rest of the day. Oddly, I already had this idea planned, in honor of the release of The Desolation of Smaug.

Lol. Hope you guys like it.

Cheers!

-Ana

P.S. OMGOMGOMG 4 DAYS TO CHRISTMAS, PEOPLE! *faints*

8. Holidays, Histories, and Hobbits

"Has anyone seen a small, brown bag?" asked Sandman.

The Council was reconvening to finalize the paperwork on Ellington's promotion, as well as to further discuss the topic of the Unknown…which although seemed to have stopped growing, wasn't shrinking either. Sandman had been nosing around the Workshop all morning, as if looking for something.

Bernard, who had finally finished with the security breach around four that morning (anomaly, and no real reason for it either) sat with tired lines on his perpetually youthful elfin face. Since this was the last council meeting to deal with Ellington's case, she wasn't allowed to be present, even as the Number Two Elf. So Bernard had left her alone to sleep in. He would have wanted to himself, after yesterday.

"What 'small brown bag'?" asked Mother Nature.

Sandman sighed. "I raided the stash of some Bogeys a few days ago. Nasty things, Bogeys–they give people the most horrible dreams, usually based on the person's worst fears. I confiscated their entire stash of Nightmare dust…and I seem to have misplaced it the last time I was here."

"Where did you see it last?" Santa asked. Lost Nightmare dust was a serious thing.

"Well," said Sandman slowly, "It was in my robe. But I had by robe checked when I arrived."

"Who was in charge of coat checking during the last meeting?" said Easter Bunny.

"It was Jack," Father Time recalled. "I remember because he made a nasty comment about my staff."

"Where is Jack today, Santa?" asked Mother Nature, suspiciously.

"I haven't seen him. But let me ask an elf." He ducked out into the hallway. "George! Hey! Yeah, come here a second." After a hushed conversation with George (a tubby little guy who worked with Quentin) Santa came back looking confused.

"They say nobody's seen him since last night," he said. "Some elves spotted him walking Ellington back to her room…and they say that she looked terribly sick."

"Ellington sick?!" said Bernard, alarmed. "But she was fine when we left!"

"I don't know," Santa admitted. "But he told several others that he'd put her to bed because she wasn't feeling well." He paled. And for Santa to pale, you know it must be bad. "Something about her feeling cold."

"He's got the dust!" cried the Council, almost unanimously.

"He must have given it to her last night," Bernard muttered, his face adapting a panicked look. Then, without any further explanation, he got up and bolted from the Study.

"Wow," said Easter Bunny. "I've never seen us agree on anything so quickly!"

But Santa was looking after Bernard, and wondering if the reason for that reaction had been the lack of sleep, or something else entirely.

Cupid, who of course had a certain kind of insight about these things, chuckled, calling after the Head Elf, "Run, Prince Charming! Go and wake the Sleeping Beauty from her troubled sleep!"

That night, Ellington dreamt of Bernard for the first time.

She was standing, alone, on an iceberg. Somehow (perhaps it was elfish vision taking over) she could see Bernard, while he and Raven Hair Tabitha went on a date in some human city. Bernard was clearly falling for her, even thought she continued to make terrifying faces at Ellington behind his back. Ellington yelled to him, tried to warn him, but he was too far, and a strong wind was blowing against her and carrying her voice away. The iceberg was freezing cold; and though she was wearing a large fluffy coat, it wouldn't warm her. It was as if the cold came from inside of her, gnawing at her stomach.

And then, she saw Bernard and Tabitha come to a doorway, and look what was hung above them?

Mistletoe.

And just as Bernard was stepping in, Tabitha stepped back, cackling wickedly. A trapdoor opened and swallowed Bernard up.

"Nooo! Bernard!" Ellington cried, waking up drenched in a cold sweat. Or was it a hot sweat? She was too confused to know for sure. Someone's hands grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her firmly. "Ellington! Ellington, wake up!" a voice commanded. She was crying like a baby and could taste the tears in her mouth. She was shaken again.

Slowly, after much blinking, her vision partially cleared. It was Bernard, sitting on her bed and shaking her. He seemed very anxious. "Ellington?" He asked, as if unsure if she had truly woken up.

"But…but you…" muttered Ellington confusedly. She was trembling all over. "S-sorry…just a …bad…f-fricken nightmare." She swiped at her eyes…and then for some, completely not okay reason, she burst out crying again. She wasn't really awake yet. Like, at all.

Bernard gave her a pitying look. "Oh, Elle." On some sort of unchecked impulse, perhaps to console his weeping and relatively unstable Number Two, Bernard leaned forward and pulled her into a hug.

Oh. My. Gosh. Is Bernard HUGGING ME?! Ellington thought wildly, through her mental fogbank. But then she just went limp and kept crying, burying her face into his shoulder. "Raven Ha…iceberg…and mistletoe was trapdoor," she sobbed into his shirt. "No good…yelling…broken coat…not working…you fell."

Utterly baffled, yet knowing that most nightmares didn't make very much sense, Bernard patted her on the back in a soothing way. "Don't…don't worry," he whispered. "I'm here. It's okay. It wasn't real."

"It was real!" Ellington garbled. "You…left me. Alone…I was so cold….and Jack. Jack helped me."

Realizing that she was confusing her dream in part with the reality of the afternoon before, Bernard felt a terrible pang of guilt. He should have pressed for Ellington to come with them; he had spent most of the night pretending not to notice as that Tabitha person kept flirting desperately, right in front of Santa. It had been awful. If Ellington had been there, sure; she would have teased him a bit about the unwanted attention, but her presence alone would have made it more bearable. Then, remembering what she had just said, Bernard tensed. "Jack helped you?"

Ellington sniffed and nodded. "I threw up…twice. Jack helped me get here." And she burrowed her face deeper into the soft folds of his shirt. "I…I lost you."

Looking down at her wild mess of curls, Bernard felt an odd feeling. It wasn't sympathy, or pity, or even protectiveness. It was strange, seeing Ellington like this; so vulnerable. Normally she was strong, unbendable; but this…whatever she had seen in her dream, it had pushed her over the edge. And just then, something in his mind (or perhaps his heart) clicked into place.

He had known before now that he wanted Ellington to be happy. But what he hadn't realized (or perhaps acknowledged) was that he wanted to be the one to truly make that happen. He wanted to be the one that made things better, when she stayed.

Yes, something changed had changed in him; shifted, or turned a new way. Suddenly, right there with her crying in his arms, Bernard knew that he was falling in love with Ellington.

And he didn't even want to stop it from happening anymore.

He was okay with it.

It had taken him nearly seventeen hundred years, but he was actually okay with it.

It gave him a warm tingly feeling in his head, a buzz that wasn't terrible in the least.

With a faint smile on his lips, he gently kissed her forehead. "Shhhh," he said. "It's over now. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Okay?"

When Bernard had kissed her forehead, Ellington felt a bolt of warmth shoot through her, chasing away the last vestiges of the cold inside of her. She felt so peaceful, comfortable there. She stopped crying, but didn't pull away. She wanted this to last as long as possible.

"Okay?"Bernard whispered again, and she shivered…but not from cold.

"Okay," she whispered back, and sighed. "Okay."

They sat there for about a minute and a half, until Ellington, now much more awake and almost fully coherent, realized just what she was doing: clinging to Bernard like he was a lifesaver. Embarrassed beyond all belief, Ellington stiffly pulled away, tensing at how cold even the warm room seemed when not in his arms…ugh, God did that sound mushy.

Annnnd… there she was again.

"Umm…sorry."

"Hey, it's alright. Everybody has nightmares sometimes." Bernard's eyes were exceptionally warm– perhaps in contrast to the last pair of eyes she had seen the night before: Jack's. They were like deep brown pools of chocolate… ugh, her mind! That nightmare had really messed up her head.

But they were sitting so close…and he didn't seem to mind it.

Though, she told herself, her probably didn't think of it in the same light that she did.

He was giving her that adorable lopsided grin.

"What?" Ellington asked, a little more softly than she would have liked to.

"I thought I was the only one who got bed head with curls."

With a horrified gasp, Ellington dove back under the comforter. "Bows and Baubles, my hair! Dammit!"

"Did you just say, 'baubles'?" Bernard chuckled. "Looks like the elfish side really is coming out in you."

"And yet I managed to keep 'dammit' in the sentence too." Ellington, busy rearranging her hair beneath a heavy eiderdown (which is even harder than it sounds) said, "Pass me that hairclip on the night stand, will you?"

Bernard passed the hairclip, and seconds later, Ellington reemerged into the daylight, hair respectably arranged. "Better?"

"Much," he said, absently brushing a curl out of her eyes.

"Good." Ellington rubbed at her face to hide her blush. "So…what time is it?"

"Mmm, about seven thirty."

"Seven thirty?!"Ellington shrieked, jumping out of the other side of the bed. "Dammit, dammit, dammit! Do you know what day it is? Annise will kill me!"

"Elle, she knows what happened yesterday," Bernard said, watching amusedly as she rushed around, grabbing things off of chairs and from the closet and off the dresser.

She rushed into the bathroom, yelling out, "But today is the eighteenth!"

"And…that means?"

"Ugh!" roared Ellington. "You wouldn't know."

December 18th, 343 A.D.

In the city of Myra, of Lycia in Asia Minor (modern day Turkey)

The bishop of Myra had lain abed sick for many weeks.

It was well known that the hierarch's strength was failing. No one expected him to see out the week, and all were heartbroken at the thought of being separated from their beloved Father. But none more than the youth (young man, by the currently acceptable age of maturity) who sat outside of the Bishop's bedchambers, his curly head resting in his hands.

He had been an infant when he had been found by the saint, abandoned in the cold; in a city full of people too busy to notice a little Jewish baby crying in the gutter. But Nicholas had heard him.

The newly appointed Bishop of Myra had taken the child home, cared for him and raised him up as a good Christian. As a child, Theodulus had been teased for being an orphan–it was obvious that he was actually the Bishop's son–but he still loved the saint as a son would his father, because that was the reciprocation of Nicholas' attitude towards the boy.

And so Theodulus had been raised in the home of a saint; and, when he had grown old enough to, assisted Nicholas in his many acts of charity. This brought him much joy. All in the church loved him, as he was sweet, and kind; yet he had a fiery streak of temperament that may attributed to Nicholas' influence (after all, it had been their own Bishop who had struck the heretic Arius across the cheek in righteous anger at the Ecumenical Council of 325.) Besides this, Theodulus was a handsome young man; but people his own age shunned him, and it grew obvious that no girl would ever wish to marry 'Nicholas' orphan'.

Nicholas had taught him to bear the reproach of others with patience and humility, accepting all for the glory of God. But now, faced with the approach of Nicholas' death, Theodulus was lost. What would he do when the one person who truly cared about him was gone? He was barely an adult; how would he survive in a city that knew him well, yet rejected him as an unworthy citizen?

A priest came out of the Bishop's quarters, and addressed the young man. "Theodulus," he said solemnly. "His holiness wishes to see you now."

Theodulus nodded, and swiped roughly at his eyes with his sleeve before rising and entering the darkened room where the Bishop lay.

"Father Nicholas?" Theodulus called, into the darkness. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the poor light before he noticed a small candle burning in the corner, beside the bed.

"I am here," Nicholas said. His hands rested atop the blanket, one holding a long knotted rope used for silent prayer. The room was peaceful; no doubt the saintly man had been filling it with intercessions for his flock, which would soon be leaderless amid the tumult of the times.

Walking quietly, Theodulus came and sat beside the man of God. "Are you leaving us now, Father?" he asked sorrowfully. His eyes began to fill with tears again, at the sight of his elder's pale face.

"No, not just yet," Nicholas replied, smiling gently. "I wouldn't depart this life without speaking to you one last time, my dear Theodulus." With much effort, he reached out and took the hand of the young man. "You have been a constant help to me in all things, but especially in the giving of alms and assistance of the needy."

"And what will I do when you are gone?" Theodulus asked tearfully. "You have told me before that you wish for me to continue to live in the way of the righteous, and multiply the good works which we fulfilled during your time on this earth. But it will not be the same. You will not be here to lead me. I do not wish to remain without the leadership of the one who has been like unto a father to me."

The Bishop sighed. "And you have been likened as a son unto me. But Theodulus; I tell you that tomorrow I depart from this temporal life, and lest you heed me in this my instruction to you, you may fall away into despair and sadness. For unto giving you are accustomed, and in it you find much joy. Do not cease to do that which is pleasing in the sight of the Lord because of me, a sinner."

"How could I be sadder than I am upon hearing of your departure?" said Theodulus. "If only I could go with you, away out of this world, I should be happy again. But I am not worthy to pass with you out of this life."

Nicholas sat silently, praying for consolation for his beloved spiritual child. And then, in his heart, he heard a voice, The Voice, telling him what would come to pass. A gleam crept into the eyes of the saint. "Perhaps you do not yet need to be parted from me after all." He sat silently for a moment, before continuing, "The Lord has told me that you will come with me, Theodulus; because of your loyalty and obedience in serving Him. How this will come to pass, I do not know; but trust in the Lord, and he will see that we are united again in a very short while. You shall not die; no, that much has been revealed to me. He will take you away from here, away from Myra in a miraculous way, to a place very far north. There you will help me further, Theodulus; for my service to others does not end in my death. Rather, I may begin to assist those in need with greater aptitude, even unto the ends of the earth."

Hearing these words from the mouth of Nicholas, Theodulus' face grew joyous. "Then I shall not despair any further, Father; for if you have seen this, surely it shall come to pass." And he was troubled no longer, his heart having been lightened of its burden.

The next day, the Bishop Nicholas reposed in the Lord. And on the third day after his burial, the Saint appeared to Theodulus, and took him away as he had prophesied.

No one ever heard of Theodulus again. Some were glad to have him gone; but it didn't matter, because Theodulus as he had been before ceased to exist. On that day, Christmas Eve of 344, he was changed into the First Elf, and was given the name he would bear in his new life…

"Bernard!" Ellington was calling from the bathroom.

"Yeah," Bernard hollered back. "What is it?"

"What's going on out there? Has anyone bothered to find Jack?" Her sounding a bit muffled, Bernard guessed that Ellington was getting dressed.

"Nobody's seen him; but I'm sure the Council has sent out search parties by now."

"I can't believe I fell for his crap last night!" Ellington was irate. "After I gave him that whole lecture about hating his guts, he played me for a fool! I'm so totally pissed about it!"

"Yeah, I can tell," Bernard laughed.

Ellington poked her head out of the doorway. "Are you laughing at me?"

Bernard shook his head. "Nope."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. Now you should probably finish getting dressed."

With a sideways look, Ellington pulled back into the bathroom. "You should leave now."

"Why?" He found he didn't really want to go.

"Because, I accidentally forgot my pants in the closet, and I'm not one for streaking past my boss! Now GO!"

"Alright, alright. I'm going." Getting up off the bed, Bernard crossed the room to the door, absently glancing in the direction of the bathroom. Heat shot to his cheeks when he saw, through a crack in the door, Ellington's half dressed reflection in the mirror. She was looking the other way, but that didn't stop him from bolting out the door as quickly as he could, knowing that she would never forgive him if she caught him peeking.

Bernard exited the room to find the entire Council waiting outside the door.

"Well, how'd it go?" asked Easter Bunny.

"Is she okay?" Mother Nature.

"She had an awful nightmare, like we thought," "Bernard said, blinking rapidly and trying to get over the fact that he'd just seen Ellington partially naked, though thankfully she had been decently covered. "But she's fine now."

Cupid wasn't fooled for a second. "Oh really?" he said, giving Bernard a knowing look. "Just fine? Like you're JUST fine?"

Bernard scowled. He already felt like a stupid Peeping Tom; the little cherub didn't need to rub it in.

Santa was confused. "Wha…"

"Oh, never mind," grumped Bernard irritably. Leave it to Legendary Figures to make everything super awkward.

Curtis came tramping up with Annise.

"Is she okay?!" cried Annise worriedly. "We came as soon as we'd heard! Did Jack frost her?!"

Bernard held up his hands. "Whoa, whoa! No; Jack didn't frost her. She's fine, just had a bad dream. You can go in and see her if you want to."

Annise was visibly relieved, and took him up on the offer at once. She opened the door and went in.

"Ellington!"

"I'm getting dressed, hold on!" was heard just before the door clicked closed.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to get back to work. The Council will have to continue without me," said Bernard, and he stepped off down the hall purposefully. He didn't need to stick around to be barraged with embarrassing questions that he didn't plan to answer anyway.

The entire Council exchanged looks.

"Did Bernard seem a bit odd to you just now?" Mother Nature wondered, as they looked after him.

"Not at all," said Cupid, laughing inwardly at their oblivion. "Not. At. All."

And where was Jack Frost during the unraveling of his nasty, cold hearted plot?

Eavesdropping, just around the corner from Ellington's room.

Feeling pretty put out that his plan had been so easily thwarted, he skulked away rather unhappily, to the one place he knew he could find what he needed to put things back the way he wanted: Santa's coat closet.

Because what better tool to have to win a stubborn girl's heart, then Father Time's pocket-watch?

The ability to change a timeline is always handy.

But he knew he would have to lay low awhile before starting anything new, on his part.

Because Ellington wasn't going to be glad to see him, until he did something redeeming.

"You do remember what today is, don't you?" Ellington said to Annise. She had just finished getting dressed.

"Whatever it is, it must be good," said Annise. "You've been humming all morning."

Ellington paused. "I have?"

"Yup."

"Huh." Ellington shrugged lightly. She didn't want to appear too out of sorts; raise any suspicions. Because if Annise found out, she would tell Curtis, who would tell Judy, who would tell Abby, who would tell everybody…

Besides, Ellington wasn't entirely sure what it all meant just yet. It had only been a kiss on the forehead, but…

"Yes; of course I know what today is!" Annise said, bouncing in place. "St. Nicholas Day eve."

"Of course you do," Ellington repeated. "You've been counting down to it since March." Literally. March.

"Tonight is the night that children all around the world put out their stockings, for St. Nicholas to put presents in," said Annise in a mystical monotone. "All of the good little children will get presents, and all the bad children will get…"

"Coal." It was even more amazing to Ellington now how those customs had become so intertwined with Christmas itself. "I wonder if Santa knows about today."

"He has to, doesn't he? After all, St. Nicholas was the original Santa."

"I don't know."

"Bernard's really old," Annise observed. "Do you think he knew St. Nicholas?"

"I'll ask him," Ellington promised. That would be an interesting conversation…especially with only one week left to Christmas. "Actually, we can ask him. I want you to tag along with me today."

"Really?!" Annise was glowing. "I can come with you? For a whole day?" She paused, worried. "Do you think Bernard will mind much?"

Ellington snorted. "That old fart can just suck on a lemon if he doesn't like my little sister hanging out with me on a day like this." Annise giggled madly at this. "Besides, it's not like I'll work less hard because you're there. He knows me well enough by now to know that. Besides, due to the up in production, we've already exceeded quotas."

"So, when do we leave?"

"Well, right now…if you can keep up, you little Hobbit!" said Ellington, chasing a giggling Annise out of the room.

"Don't remind me," groaned Annise. Ellington had spent a good part of the 13th grousing because she couldn't get to a theater to see The Desolation of Smaug.

"Well, at least I didn't call you a dwarf." The girls had watched all of The Lord of the Rings movies in extended edition numerous times.

"If I'm a hobbit, then…you're an elf!" cried Annise, obliviously. "Arwen's crabby sister, or something."

Ellington broke out in a cold sweat, and laughed nervously."Hey, watch it missy." She had forgotten about her obsession with the elves of Middle Earth. She lunged and tickled her younger sister.

"Wait wait wait!" Annise laughed. "Now you're forgetting something."

"I am?"

"Duh!" Annise trotted back into the bedroom and pulled out a bag from under a chair. "I asked Mackenzie to run home and grab these for us." Out of the bag she pulled two stuffed animals: a ladybug and a panda bear.

"Harold Ishmael!" cried Ellington, taking one.

"Yup. He's your dare this year."

Ellington face palmed. "Oh. That duh."

"You have to walk around the Workshop all day with Harold Ishmael hanging off of your bag," said Annise with ceremonious solemnity. "Or face the punishment of: either endless tickling, or the Suicide Dare."

"What's the Suicide Dare this year?" Ellington asked with an eye roll. It wasn't a dare to commit suicide; rather, it was a dare that ended in your being utterly humiliated.

"I haven't decided yet." Annise put the toys back in the bag. "But it's gonna be good!"

"Yeah, well, so is the party I planned."

"PARTY?! You're throwing a party!?"

Ellington laughed. "You're gonna love it."

It hurt to have fun with Annise, knowing that this would indeed be their last St. Nicholas Day together–ever–but Ellington knew that she owed it to Annise to give her the best day she could.

And she knew that she would never, ever forgive herself if she didn't.

Ellington and Annise sang on their way to Bernard's office. Ellington had a really good voice; but she never sang unless she was alone…or when Annise prodded her to the brink of madness. Annise had a sweet little soprano voice that was absolutely angelic. Ellington knew she would miss hearing it every day. So she accepted Annise's challenge to sing, since, oddly enough, the hallway Bernard's office was located on was deathly still that morning. They sang the song they always sang on that morning:

O who loves Nicholas the saintly?

O who serves Nicholas the saintly?

Him will Nicholas receive

And give help in time of need,

Holy Father Nicholas!

O who dwells in God's holy mansions,

Is our help on the land and oceans?

He will guard us from all ills,

Keep us pure and free from sins,

Holy Father Nicholas!

Holy saint, hearken to our prayers,

Let not life drive us to despair.

All our efforts shall not wane,

Singing praises to thy name,

HOLY FATHER NICHOLAS!

It was an antiquated song, out of Russia many centuries before; but many Orthodox children like Ellington and Annise sung it every year on the day commemorating the repose of the much beloved saint. Since he was the patron saint of both children and maidens, Ellington especially loved him; and Annise literally did countdown to December 19th every year, as far back as the spring. Because unexplainable gifts really did show up under their Christmas tree that day… even when Ellington locked and booby trapped her parents into their room, like she had made a habit of doing. Each year the traps were different, she had hidden a running camcorder, and there was only one entrance to her parent's room…yet every year, the gifts appeared, as if by magic, under the tree. And they were from places that their parents couldn't have gotten them, of a quality that, being the poor farmer type that they now were, couldn't have afforded.

They were laughing now, joking around about The Hobbit more than they should have been. By the time they reached Bernard's office, they were in hysterics.

Ellington knocked on the door, doubled over laughing.

"Come in."

Annise and Ellington stumbled in laughing. Bernard looked up from his desk in surprise. Whatever he'd been doing, he'd thrown a cloth over the table. Neither girl noticed a portion of the wall behind him clicking into place.

"Um, what's so funny?" Bernard asked, confused.

"Nothing," said Ellington breathlessly. "Nothing at all."

Annise was looking at Bernard with her head cocked. "Aha! I just thought of the Suicide Dare."

"Suicide Dare?" To Bernard, that sounded more than a little bit alarming.

"Yeah. Every year, Ellington has to either do something stupid that I tell her, or something totally humiliating."

"Ugh, tell me the Dare already," Ellington moaned. Oddly, Annise came over and whispered it in her ear. Ellington was a bit nervous with her that close to her new, fully pointed ears, but her sister didn't seem to see it. Thank God for that magic.

But soon Ellington turned bright red. "What? No!"

Annise fell into cackles. "Oh yes."

"You….you suck," Ellington said irritably. "Now give me the bag."

"Aww man. You're not gonna take the Dare? Too bad."

"You little ferret. Pass me Harold."

"Harold?" Bernard asked.

Annise took the toy from her bag and passed it to Ellington. "This," said Ellington, "Is Harold Ishmael."

"But…that's a panda bear," said Bernard cynically.

"He's a bi-racial panda bear!" Ellington argued. "Asian on the outside, Jewish on the inside. He…was a gift."

"The Dare is part of the celebration! Well, for Elle and me," Annise said, trying out Ellington's nickname. It got her a glare.

"Anndd…why is this? Why the celebration?"

Ellington suddenly didn't want him to know why, which didn't make sense. She didn't hide her beliefs from anyone…but she didn't broadcast them either.

"Because it's St. Nicholas Day!" Annise said enthusiastically. "Well, tomorrow anyway."

Bernard jumped, and looked at Ellington; but she was staring at the floor.

"I think you're confused, Annise," he said to the little girl. "St. Nicholas Day is on the sixth of December."

"No," Annise insisted. "For us, it's today. Our church uses the old calendar."

"Old calenda…you don't mean the Gregorian calendar?"

"You know Bernard: the calendar change that occurred hundreds of years ago, that moved the date of the New Year by thirteen days. It's why we celebrate St. Nicholas Day on the 19h, instead of the 6th like everybody else."

"I see. And…just what church are we talking about here?"

Ellington was tuning the conversation out. It was embarrassing her for some reason. She wasn't embarrassed of her faith, but talking about it with Bernard felt…weird. Like he knew more about all of it than she did.

Which was probably true; she thought. But she wasn't sure how he felt about it. Nothing had been mentioned in the movies about whether the elves were religious or not, and so far, she had been busy with Council meetings on Sundays and also hadn't seen any churches about. So she wasn't sure how the topic was dealt with in the Pole.

"Annise, why don't you run along and get some breakfast," Ellington said abruptly, cutting off her sister from replying.

Annise frowned. "But Bernard was asking…"

"Please, just…give me a minute, okay?"

Annise reluctantly turned and left, muttering, "Suicide Dare for sure."

As soon as the door had closed, Bernard said, "What was that about?"

"I just…don't think she should be talking about stuff she doesn't know much about."

"Uh, hmm. So you're saying she doesn't know much about her own faith?" Bernard wasn't convinced.

"No. I just don't think she needs to feel like she has to defend her faith today. Of all days." Ellington didn't want to have her sister feeling out of place, or weird. After all, their church was very small.

"What diocese are you under?" Bernard asked casually.

So casually that Ellington thoughtlessly answered, "RTOC. Wait…" She turned to him, her jaw dropping."How did you..?"

"As you've pointed out before, Elle, I'm seventeen hundred years old. When I was your age, Orthodoxy was the only form of Christianity." Bernard smiled. "Besides, the whole Gregorian calendar thing is a dead giveaway."

"So…that doesn't bother you?" Ellington asked, a bit shyly.

"Bother me?" Bernard scoffed, his eyes shining. "Elle, I–"

A knock sounded on the door.

For some reason, Bernard didn't answer it. Ellington looked up, and saw the warm, joyous and almost yearning expression on Bernard's face. She had just opened her mouth to say something, when the door rudely burst open.

It was Curtis, of course.

Bernard's irritation was barely contained. "When did this stop being a private office?" He barked at him. "I am in the middle of something very important!"

Curtis flinched, and said, "Sorry, sorry."

Hearing Bernard say that what they were talking about was very important was empowering. Ellington (somewhat daringly) stepped forward and laid a hand on Bernard's arm. "Hey," she said, in a comforting way. "Relax." Turning to Curtis, she asked, "What is it, Curtis?"

"Actually, I was coming for you," Curtis said to her. "The Dining Hall has been appropriately rearranged. Can we get into our costumes now?"

"Costumes?" asked Bernard. Having Ellington on his arm made him oddly pleasant again.

Ellington suppressed a smile. "Yeah, Curtis. We'll be along soon."

"Yes!" Curtis punched a fist in the air in excitement and ran out, slamming the door behind him.

"I should probably go now," Ellington said, a bit reluctantly. She didn't really want to leave Bernard's side, but she pulled away anyway…

"Wait, I–" Bernard tugging her back a little too quickly, Ellington tumbled against him, their faces inches apart…no, less than inches….

"Um…" Blushing, Ellington found her hands were on his chest. "I…."

"My fault," Bernard said quietly, his eyes wide. "It was my fault. Sorry." He loosened his grip on her arms, but didn't take a step back.

They stood there for about a minute, just looking in each other's eyes…

Before they realized what they were doing.

Nervously, Ellington stepped away before Bernard could. She didn't think she could bear to feel him pull away. "I've…got to go and get ready. Your costume is in the closet." She pointed to the closet in the corner of the room.

"My…costume?" said Bernard. He felt empty without her close: not that this was not the first time they had been this close, but somehow, it felt familiar with her.

"Yeah. You're coming aren't you?" asked Ellington anxiously.

Bernard smiled. "Sure. Why not? We've finished this year's toys with a week to spare; I'd say that's worth celebrating."

"Good. See you in a bit then." And she went out, pretty quickly.

It had been lovely, being so near. It had also been incredibly awkward. Hopefully, there would be a chance in future for that to change…Annise was in on it now, which meant soon, almost everyone would be. Her Suicide Dare this year? Either 'wear the bear', or catch Bernard under some mistletoe.

After her nightmare, she was definitely with Harold.

Now, Ellington had a party to prepare for. Her own costume was waiting in the wings, and she was wondering just how annoyed Bernard would be to see his own.

What? It was well known that he had the eyes for it…if not the hair. But a wig could easily fix that.

After she had left, Bernard went back to his chair and sighed. He had wanted to tell her about…well, everything; after all, Curtis had known about his faith from the beginning. And Bernard wasn't the only one left in the Pole who was Orthodox, either. But in the end, it had become more of a cultural heritage than a religion to the elves who were; only Bernard really maintained a 'religious' status. But he never told anybody. He didn't want to give anyone the chance to tease him about how 'outdated' he was. To him, faith was something you didn't just give up or put away…especially when, in your past life, you had been brought up by St. Nicholas.

OMFG! Was that totally boring? I'm not sure…ugh, don't be mean to me! I just had to write this side of things; from what I can tell, nobody's done it before and frankly, in my book, Christmas means more than just presents. Annnd I wanted to try to write a dated piece too…and tie in the history of Santa Claus a bit. So sorry if that was a snooze fest.

Also, I use the term 'Bogey' loosely.

Anyway, in the next chapter, we'll see Ellington's party (which is gonna be awesome) and deal with Jack, who makes a really stupid, yet kind of genius decision. (Hopefully that was vague enough XD)

And Tabitha may just show up when Ellington least wants her to.

So somebody guess what the party theme is. ;)

No really. Just because I'm not holding chapters hostage doesn't mean I don't LOVE reviews. Let me know what you thought. Please! Consider it an early Christmas gift.

Thanks guys!

All the Best,

-Ana

P.S. Harold Ishmael helped me write this by supporting my right elbow. Yes, he's real. :)