"Vhat do you sink?"

I turned around, only to come face to face with the most perfect looking snowman I'd ever seen. "Wow, Elle!" I exclaimed. "How did you manage that on your first try?" I looked over at my own snowman, which was lumpy with a crooked carrot nose and a wobbly row of buttons. I turned back to Elle with a pout on my face.

She laughed. "It's really easy!" She paused. "Maybe not too easy, zo," she conceded, looking at my snowman and barely holding in her laughter.

"How'd you do yours?" I asked. She came over, kneeling on the ground and waving for me to join her. She scooped a bunch of the snow around us into a good-sized hill.

"I just got a bunch of snow built up like zis," she said. She started patting it down on all sides, tucking some of the snow in on the bottom. "Zen, you keep patting oontil you have a smooze surface all around. Come on, you can help."

Soon, with both of us working, we had the mound of snow completely smoothed out on all sides. We did the same two more times, each hill smaller than the last. Finally, we had three hills of different sizes, all in a row.

"Now," Elle said, "ve just pick up zeh meetioom ball on zeh big vun, and zeh smallest on top." Once we maneuvered them into a stack, Elle walked over to the basket of supplies, gathered in the kitchen before we'd come outside. She picked up the small bowl of olives, along with a carrot, and came back to my side.

"Okay," I said a bit smugly, tightening my scarf and pulling down my hat as a gust of wind swept by us. "How do you get the buttons in a straight line?" I'd rearranged my first set of buttons several times before giving up. I wasn't sure how she'd gotten hers in a perfect column, but it was surely beginner's luck, right?

"Simple," she said. "I just took vun—" as she was speaking, she did exactly what she was saying when she was saying it "—and stick it into zeh top meetle purt of zeh meetle ball. Zhen I let eet slide down zeh height of zeh man, making a straight line imprinted on zeh snow. I followved eet carefully viz my finger, zhen line zeh rest of zeh ooleeves dowvn zeh line." As she did so, I watched her carefully. Sure enough, the row of buttons came out straight as could be.

"Whoa," I said. "That's awesome!" I laughed and jumped up and down excitedly. "It's hard to believe you've never made a snowman before," I observed after I calmed. "Yours is so much better than mine, and I've been making snowmen for years."

"Y's, v'll, Janie alw'ys h'z b'n a p'rf'ctsh'n'st."

Both Elle and I spun around at the sound of the voice. Just ten feet away, Berwald stood examining us and our various snowmen. When we turned, he took a few steps closer, until he was standing right in front of us.

"Master Bervald," Elle murmured, curtsying quickly.

"Hi," I said simply. No way was I going to curtsy; I'd probably fall on my face.

"Hullo," Berwald greeted. "Vh't are yoo l'deez dooing oot in sooch col'd vetter?"

"Building snowmen," I answered. Elle was just looking at the ground, and I quickly realized what might be the result of this conversation; she wasn't supposed to be out here. "I got bored sitting and reading, so I went to find Elle here. She's the nice girl who showed me to the dining room last night."

Berwald nodded his acknowledgement. "Y's," he said, glancing over at Elle, "I dot dat m'ght be dah c'se." He looked back at me and gave a tiny smile. Microscopic, really. "I am so'ree fer int'roopting. Dah g'rd tool'd me d't yoo l'ft, und…" He trailed off, looking at the snowmen. "Yoo wur m'king snowm'n?"

"Yeah," I said, jostling Elle's arm a bit, making her look up. "I just love snow so much, and when Elle told me she had never built a snowman before, I just had to teach her. Of course," I grimaced, "She ended up teaching me, in the end." I looked over at my original snowman, scowling. "How she managed a perfect snowman on her first try, I'll never know." I looked over at her and grinned. "She must just be special."

Elle blushed. "I'm just very diligent in my vork," she said, looking up at me. "I, uh, doon't vreally like mistakes." Then, she seemed a bit startled. "Not zat yours is bad," she said quickly. "I just meant—"

I waved a gloved hand, sending a bit of snow flying. "No need to apologize," I said, laughing. "I know mine is horrible." I sighed. "As much as I love snow, I've always been better at destroying things than building them." I shrugged, laughing it off. "Just how I was built." I grinned at the others. They were just looking at me. I cleared my throat. "Well," I said nervously, "Berwald?" He raised an eyebrow. I gestured towards the leftover supplies. "Would you like to build one?" He looked a bit hesitant, but nodded.

"Ok'y," he said. "Shoor. If yoo v'nt to, we c'n do d't." I grinned up at him, then looked for a clear patch of snow. Finding one, I sat on my knees, gesturing for him to join me.

Berwald knelt in the snow a couple of feet in front of me, and I started scooping up snow from all directions. Following my lead, he started pushing snow towards me, and the two piles quickly became one huge pile of snow. I showed him how to smooth out the sides, just like Elle had showed me just minutes before, and he methodically followed my directions. As he worked, I moved onto making another pile, smoothing the edges absentmindedly as I watched him.

He got a little crease in his brow as he concentrated on making the hill perfectly smooth, his gloved fingers gliding over the snow, sawing ridges off with every pass. His glasses slid halfway down his nose, but he didn't seem to notice or care. I was a little tempted to push them back, but I managed to control myself—with extreme difficulty, I might add. He really is cute, I thought, startling myself a bit. I blushed at the thought and looked back down at the hill I was making. I busily smoothed the rest of it out as Berwald finished his own hill and started making another one, smaller than mine. I felt him glance over at me.

"Vh't 's 't?" he asked. I looked over curiously to find him gazing at my face with a semi-concerned expression.

"What?"

He pushed his glasses back up his nose as he said, "Yor f'ce 's r'd. Are yoo too col'd? Too war'm?" I blushed a little deeper, shaking my head and getting back to work.

"I'm okay," I said, carefully lifting my snowball and putting it on top of the first one, the one I'd made with Berwald. He nodded, going back to his own snowball.

"Oh," I heard Elle say. She'd been so quiet working on the other snowman, I'd forgotten she was there. "I do not sink zat ve vill have enough ooleeves." I looked over at her. She was looking into the olive bowl, counting.

"Yeah?" I asked. She peered over at me and nodded sadly. I shrugged. "Okay," I said, standing up. "Let me see." I took the bowl from her hands, counting them myself. We had two snowmen going, each needing about forty olives for the buttons and smile—it sounds like a lot, but if you want to be detailed, that's how much it takes. There were only twenty, not nearly enough for one, let alone two. "Huh. I could've sworn I put a couple hundred in here. Oh well," I said, shrugging lightly, and both Berwald and Elle looked at me. I looked at the rest of the supplies, noticing that nothing else was depleted nearly as much. "I'll go get some more. Be right back." I started in the direction of the house, but stopped and turned when I heard Elle rush up behind me.

"Wait!" she called out. "You can stay here. I will go get more of zeh supplies." She started toward the house.

"Are you sure?" I asked. She turned back and nodded before departing. I shrugged and returned to building the base of the snowman. I helped Berwald center his last snowball on top of the first two. "We need arms," I said. I went over to the first snowman I'd made that day, the horrible crooked one. I ripped out the sticks I had used for arms and brought them over to the new snowman. "I would use the olives from my failed snowman, but they're a little bit crushed, and it's way easier to line then up when they're fresh and whole."

Berwald nodded as he came to stand next to me. I handed him one of the stick arms, and we each moved to one side. We carefully lined the sticks up so that they were even, then stuck them in, twisting until they were secure. I stood back to observe our work; it looked a bit odd—three snowballs stacked on top of each other with two stick sticking out of it—no face, no buttons, no nothing. It was a bit sad.

"Now," I said. I could see Berwald from the corner of my eye; he had a focused expression on his handsome face, like every word I said was vitally important to him. I wonder what that's about, I thought. I shook it off, though, continuing. "I think we have enough olives here to at least make a face. I can show you how to do the buttons when Elle comes back with more. Okay?" I turned to look at him, and he nodded. "Okay." I took the bowl of olives and walked up to the snowman, Berwald close behind.

The way we had positioned the sticks, it looked like the snowman was holding out his hands for someone to hand him something. I put the bowl of olives in a small, circular hole that was made where the sticks connected. I grabbed a handful of olives and started outlining the contours of the face, grouping some together to make a big, shiny eye with a thin eyebrow above it. Berwald examined my handiwork and set about copying it, making a mirrored version on the other half of the snowman's face. When we finished the eyes, we started making a smile. I started on the right, he started on the left, and we started arranging olives in downward arches, heading towards the middle.

"Oh no," I said looking at the now empty olive bowl forlornly. "Do you have any more?" Berwald opened his hands out in front of himself, shaking his head. We turned back to the snowman; there was a gap in its smile, about two inches wide. "Oh well," I said, shrugging. "We'll just have to wait until Elle gets back." I sat down in the snow, gazing up at the snowman. It was about six feet tall, taller than me but just a bit shorter than Berwald.

"Ok'y," he said, sitting next to me. He put his legs out straight in front of him, but I curled mine up to my chest.

We sat for a few minutes in silence; it was so long, I was beginning to wonder where Elle was.

"Are you col'd?"

"Hmm?" I wasn't paying attention. I glanced over at him, and he nodded at my compact position. "Oh," I said, "No. I just…" I looked back at the snowman. "I don't like to take up space." I looked at him again, smiling sadly. "But I guess you already knew that, didn't you?" He seemed confused, so I clarified, "I'm sure Uralia was the same way, was she not? We seem to be very similar, so—" I stopped.

"To answ'r yer question, no," he said, surprising me. "Ur'lia…" He watched as snow billowed across the property, floating on the wind. He seemed to gather his thoughts after a moment, and continued, "She w'z n'ver afr'd to m'ke her pr's'nce kn'wn. As ve h've tool'd you, she loov'd traveling. As'de fr'm dat, she v'z…" he chuckled and looked over at me. "Ext'rem'ly lahwood." He reached a hand out tentatively. When I didn't move, he set it gently on my knee. I smiled at him for a moment, before grimacing.

"I'm not her," I whispered, looking away and cutting off whatever he had been about to say.

"I kn'w," he murmured. I glanced at him, but quickly turned away.

"I'm never going to be her, no matter what you guys want…" I looked at him, feeling my eyes begin to water. "I'm sorry, but…" I took a breath, turning away, back to the snowman. "I'm not her," I muttered again. I struggled to keep my voice level; I could feel my whole body shaking with repressed sobs. I waited for Berwald to say something—anything—but my words were received with silence.

A few moments later, I felt a pressure across my shoulders. I leaned into his embrace, putting my head on his shoulder as I sobbed and sobbed. He just sat there, his arm around me, as I cried.

It had all suddenly become too much; in the span of a few minutes, the light and airy persona I had tried to force myself into just…fell away. I had tried so hard these past two days, thinking that maybe, if I pretended everything was fine, it would be. That in itself was not abnormal; I'd done it a lot in my life, but…not at this caliber, and certainly not for so long. Trying to trick so many people, consistently having to keep a smile on your face and a lilt to your voice—it takes a toll on a person, and I wouldn't say it's for the weak-willed.

After what felt like hours, but was probably only minutes, I finally stopped crying. My eyes dried up and I slowly stopped shaking. At some point, I had uncurled my legs; they were now positioned straight out in front of me. I bent them so that I was almost sitting on my knees. I practiced breathing slowly, evenly.

A few more minutes, and the mortification set in.

"Oh my goodness," I muttered, peeling my forehead away from Berwald's shirt. "I am so sorry." I wiped my nose and underneath my eyes, trying to get all the snot and saltwater off of my face. Good thing I don't wear makeup, I thought. "I can't believe I did that." I tried to back up a bit, but he kept his arm around me. "Really, I'm okay now," I said. My face was hot from crying, but I could still feel a blush on my cheeks when I realized just how close I was sitting to Berwald. I looked at him. "Oh," I said sadly, "I wrecked your shirt. Sorry about that." I tried to pat it down, but I was just making it worse, so I stopped. I dropped my hands into my lap and looked down at them, blushing even deeper.

I felt Berwald's gaze on my face, but I didn't look up. "Doo'n't apol'gize," I heard him murmur. I looked up to see him watching me intently. I looked back down. "Yoo've bean hool'ding dis in for a wh'le now, ja?" I nodded, but just a little. "Yoo feel bett'r now, ja?" I looked up at him through my eyelashes, nodding. He gave me a small smile. "Den doo'n't apol'gize. Ev'ryzing is ok'y." He pulled me in closer, and I let my head fall against his chest again.

I don't know how long we sat there—long enough that I stopped shaking completely, but not long enough to make me uncomfortable in my skin. Finally, I stood up, remembering something. "Where's Elle?"

Berwald looked up at me his brow crinkling in confusion. He, too, stood, looking around slowly. He looked back at me, shaking his head. I sighed, running a hand over my face.

"She must have gotten tied up with something," I said. I shrugged. "Oh, well. Guess the snowman will have to wait." Berwald was still looking towards the house, like he'd be able to see Elle wherever she was—which, maybe he could, I don't know, but I doubt it. He looked so serious all of a sudden, closed off. It made me sad—after what had just happened, he could still shut his emotions off so easily. Maybe I should change that…

Quickly, I knelt on the ground once again, scooping up snow. I turned it around and around, effectively creating a compact ball. I looked at Berwald—he still had his back to me, but I could just see a sliver of the side of his face. From what I could tell, he was debating on whether or not to go back inside. Can't have that, now, can we?

I took aim and threw the snowball; it hit him on the back of his neck. I watched as his whole body stiffened, then saw him whip around with a stunned expression. He's so handsome when he's not emotionless and glaring, I thought, but I was too busy laughing to be startled by the thought.

As I laughed and laughed, I failed to realize that his shocked expressions was quickly fading. I wasn't looking when he knelt in the snow and got a snowball of his own. I didn't see the snowball coming at me until it was already too late.

"Aahh!" I cried, but I was still somewhat laughing. I brushed the snow off of my chest, looking over at Berwald with what was supposed to be a death glare; I suspect, however, that it ended up looking like a mischievous grin. I started scooping up snow, pounding them into snowballs as quickly as possible. I wasn't watching him, but I felt snowballs start pounding my head and back and chest.

I tried to keep up, but my throws weren't nearly as accurate as his—I hadn't had a lot of practice in snowball fights, and baseballs are so much easier to throw—and some of the snowballs went wide. I was chucking them out really fast, though, favoring speed over accuracy. Snowballs were going back and forth, and I could hardly see him through the flying snow.

At some point, I couldn't feel any more snowballs hitting me, so I stopped throwing my own and looked around; I couldn't see anything, of course—snow was still coating the air—but I couldn't see Berwald's shadow, even. I called out, "Berwald? Where'd you go?" I was a bit scared, so I stared walking around where I'd seen him last, calling him name.

After a long time—at least, to me—I felt strong arms wrap around my waist, pulling me back to the ground. "Aahh!" I shrieked as I landed on my back. I felt a pressure on top of me; someone was hovering in the space above me.

Sure enough, when I opened my eyes, it was to find sky blue ones just inches away. Berwald looked down at me with a smirk on his face. I blushed at his scrutiny, and he chuckled as I turned my head.

I kept watching him out of the corner of my eye—as he got up off of me, standing up, he looked extremely proud of himself. I looked up at him, and he held a hand out to help me up. I took it, and he pulled me to my feet.

"Whoa," I muttered, stumbling a bit—right into Berwald's arms.

I heard his deep chuckle before he said, "Yer a beat cl'msy, yoo kn'w dat?" I blushed—I really needed to get that under control—and looked up at him.

"Yeah," I replied. "So I've been told."

He looked at me so affectionately, it made me feel like weeping again. With happiness, though, of course. For a second, I thought he might—

"Lillian! Master Bervald!"