Disclaimer - I don't own 48 Christmas Wishes or The Santa Clause. This is written for ONC 2023 for prompt forty-three, "You waited a thousand years to find your true love, what's one more day?"

After a Thousand Years
Prologue

"For a Christmas elf, isn't he a bit, you know," one of the elves sitting on a park bench across the way started to say. "A bit emotionless?"

Fingers reached for the round beads pulling them around the wrist. Christmas green and red beads were joined with gold in an alternating pattern, but each bead was charmed to help prevent accidental magic use by younger elves, often preventing the use of magic at any level. The entire strand was tied together with a satin string, a string of darker red than the Christmas red.

"What?" asked a second elf. They sat on the bench across from Bernard, balancing an infant elf on their hip while watching a toddler play in the snow nearby. They looked up at him, frowning as they did so. "Wait? You don't mean Bernard Elfbright over there?" And then, they straightened up, obviously bothered by his presence. "What is he doing here?"

"He's dressed in Christmas colors, so he must be a Christmas elf, although he also seems a bit old, isn't he? Wait? Did you say he's an Elfbright? As in the toymaker family?"

"Shush!" the second elf said, lifting a finger to her lips. "We don't talk about that."

The first elf startled, looking right at him, yet he didn't look them in the eye. "Wait. What are the Elfbrights hiding?"

"I can hear you, you know," Bernard thought to himself, now letting his fingers pluck the string of beads on his wrist as his lips pushed together as he tried ignoring the conversation happening nearby.

"That he never graduated from the academy. He's a special case. Because of the accidents caused by his magic. And he is too old."

Fingers continued to pull the Christmas-colored beads around the wrist as a pair of pointed ears attempted to block out the conversation occurring nearby. A small mouth pressed together, not helping the impression of being emotionless to those who observed him sitting there on a park bench, having lost a certain someone for the simple reason they wanted to avoid being seen with him. Not that there were many at the park, given the snow on the ground. He let out a deep sigh, growing bored of occupying himself with twisting the string of beads around his wrist.

And now he was observing the two older elves sitting on the park bench across from him despite trying to ignore them as he sat there, waiting for the person who had ditched him earlier. They gossiped, avoiding eye contact while this one kept passing a curious eye over his—

—oddness—

He shoved a couple of fingers under the string of beads, lifting it away from the skin, unsure which he preferred, someone staring, trying to figure him out, or the ones who gossiped about him thinking they had.

"At least they have Mindy," the second elf finally said.

And as if on cue, a snowball came hurtling out of nowhere, smashing into his face. Bernard's eyes closed, his fingers forgetting the string of beads tied around his wrist, and instead focused on wiping the snow away from his eyes, allowing him to see whoever threw the snowball, his mouth twisting into a deep frown.

A younger elf with slightly lighter hair than him stood there staring back at Bernard, realizing what she'd just done, and their eyes met briefly right before he turned his head to look away. Two other young elves were with her who were likely the younger elves' friends, a male, and a female friend. Her female friend pushed up her glasses, asking as she did of the younger elf who stared at Bernard, "Do you know him, Mindy?"

"No."

Bernard let out a sigh and stood up, deciding walking away was best, trying as he did to ignore the other elves in the park, the older ones taking care of elf children and ones his age socializing, some doing things that never held any interest when someone called out.

"Bernard! Are you leaving your sister at the park?"

He froze, turning to look at his aunt, the member of the Elfbright family who took care of Mindy, before saying, "I'm not emotionless."

"What?"

"Contrary to what some say, I'm not emotionless. I do have Christmas Spirit."

"I know that," his aunt said. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going home."

"Oh," she said, her frown twisting in disappointment. "At least let me walk you to the teleport station."

"No need. I can teleport?"

"Wait. You shouldn't be able to," his aunt said. "The distance. The beads."

Bernard's fingers twisted the beads. "They don't work. Not for a long time now. And I can teleport that distance. I have for a while now."

"Oh." She said. "Then why don't—no, I know why you don't visit more often. But it would be nice if you found someone."

Bernard turned, frowning as his fingers twisted the beads. "I don't think I ever will."

"Don't think like that. What's one more day after living a thousand years for an elf? Just be patient with yourself, Bernie, sweetheart. And take care of yourself."

"I will," Bernard said before he used his teleport ability to arrive back at the North Pole.

The current Santa soon found him. "So, how did it go? I wasn't expecting you back soon."

"Like usual," Bernard said.

"If you're looking for something to take your mind off it, I've got a book published just before this last Christmas. A Christmas Carol, but Charles Dickens," Santa said.

"Maybe later."