After a Thousand Years
Connected Disconnect

"Mindy!"

Bernard heard the chair beside his bed move, and his aunt left. Whatever was going on, he couldn't see, but it was out of the range of his good ear. Eventually, he heard her come back.

"Well, she says she can walk herself home, but…."

"Let her," Bernard said.

"Bernard! Really! I know she shouldn't have said what she did about the other positions at the North Pole, but did you have to be so blunt? And you don't have to take the frustration out and say she should be able to do whatever she wants, getting in trouble if that's her mind's direction. She…."

"Wait," Bernard said. "I didn't think—she's safe, is what I meant. I do actually care if she's doing stuff to get on Santa's naughty list, and I actually would end up finding out." He let out a sigh, shaking his head. "Wait. Elves don't end up on his list, and I should know that."

"Oh? Are you in the list department? That helps check whether they're naughty or nice. That is a job to be proud of," his aunt said. "But really…."

"She's safe," Bernard said. His mouth twisted. "And while I may be a bit disconnected—correction, very disconnected, with what's going on in her life, I do know that teenagers like their space to act out a bit and figure things out, to feel like adults are treating them like they're capable of some level of responsibility while also wanting to know their feelings matter."

Silence.

Then—

"Bernard, Mindy is a young elf, not a human teenager, so I'm not sure your reference is apt."

"Santa's kid," Bernard muttered.

"Santa's kid," his aunt muttered back.

"Anyways," Bernard said, wondering how long it would take for the excess magic to drain, among other things. "I do know I've been a horrible older brother."

"Hey." His aunt clicked her tongue. "You've not had it easy with this family of ours."

"Elf neighborhoods are safer than human ones," Bernard said. "And I'm not in the list department."

"Oh," and then, "You really don't want everyone to find out?"

He shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know." Bernard swallowed. "Someone finally asking—it felt weird."

"Oh?" Bernard felt her squeeze his hand. "Would me asking you have made things better for you?"

Bernard shook his head. "I know you were giving me my space, letting me be myself. Waiting for me…." He took a deep breath. "You've been waiting for me to be ready to tell you myself." He took a deep breath. "And I remember you telling me you're proud of me no matter what my job was."

"I'm proud of you even if you're a janitor," she said, squeezing his hand. "Although now I know you're not one or in the list department. You know…."

Bernard let out a laugh. "Yet, I kind of am."

"I was going to say, I've been telling everyone that I'm proud of you, although it's not led to any interest," she said. "But this kind of am?"

"I guess it would be easier for you to talk to your friends about me if you knew what my job was," Bernard said. "But then," he frowned, thinking carefully. "Kind of surprised nobody already knows." He let out a deep breath. "After all, plenty of Christmas Elves have retired; someone should have mentioned that I'm head elf by now. Unless, of course, they simply refer to me as head elf outside of the pole rather than my first name as everyone does at the North Pole."

"Bernard!" His aunt laughed, letting go of his hand and squeezing his arm. "I was talking about setting you up on, well, you know, a blind date."

He would have blinked had his eyes not been covered. Bernard swallowed. "Oh. That." He took a deep breath. "You said when we last saw each other, what does it matter if it's one more day? We live hundreds of years, after all."

Silence.

Then—

"While that's true," she laughed. "It wouldn't hurt to have a bit of help. You could even ask that Legendary Figure, Cupid, for help."

Bernard took a deep breath. "About that."

"You already have?"

"No," Bernard said. "You know full well," and then came the deep breath. "You remember how the last time we talked, I told you I can teleport back and forth from the North Pole."

"Yes."

"It comes in real handy as head elf," Bernard said. He winced upon hearing the soft gasp, unsure what to think, particularly since he couldn't see her face. "And it means I don't have to cross paths with anyone when I'm expected to attend council meetings."

"Council?" His aunt took a deep breath. "Something tells me you're not talking about the Legendary Council meetings with the Legendary Figures, are you? Because we both know if you had to attend a meeting with Santa, he'd just take you in his sled."

"I'm talking about the Council of Elders," Bernard said, sighing. "I'm expected to attend meetings, to get away from the North Pole for them, but thankfully they're not yearly like they are for the Legendary Council."

"Ah," his aunt said. "Elder Elfbright?"

"Yeah," Bernard said. "No help in the love department from Cupid. No help in not being able to sleep from the Sandman. Things like that."

"So. Elder Windthrope isn't just your healer because of the uniqueness of your magic."

"It has to do with how much juice my magic has as well," Bernard said.

"Juice?"

"Uh, how powerful my magic is," Bernard said.

"Well, I guess I should be thankful," she said.

"Whatever for?"

"Because you'd likely be worse off if your magic wasn't strong, right?"

Bernard let out a sigh. "Yes. Probably. That's why I had Curtis leave. He's," another sigh came. "My second in the administrative department."

"You don't sound thrilled."

"Because he's a penchant for causing trouble. For example, one year, when Santa had something important to do, of finding his Mrs. Clause, Curtis came up with the bright idea to replace him with a fake Santa so the elves wouldn't worry."

"Didn't you veto it?"

"Can't really do that if Santa gives his okay," Bernard said. He looked at his hands. "Of course, worrying about what's happening up there when I don't even know what lasting damage has been done—I shouldn't be doing that."

"Bernard, I'm sure you'll be just fine and will be able to return to being the head elf and a good one at that," his aunt said.

Bernard wasn't sure, nor did he know what to do with himself now that he was resting as Santa and Mrs. Clause had desired him to.

He felt his aunt squeeze his hand. "I'll come back and visit later. And I'll bring Mindy again."

"Just don't force her to come if she doesn't want to," Bernard said. "I don't blame her for not wanting to see me, given we've not had the best relationship over the years. I could have done better."

"Maybe, but," his aunt frowned. "Head elf?"

"Yes?" Bernard said. "Please don't tell her or the rest of the family. I still don't know how I feel about them knowing."

"The thing is," his aunt said, making him think she wouldn't promise to tell anyone. "While I can promise not to tell anyone, Mindy will be graduating from the academy soon. That means you and she, given your position, are going to be butting heads with each other sooner or later. It might be better for her to hear from you what you actually do at the North Pole."

"Ah," Bernard said. "How soon?"

"If things go the way they should, she should be a Christmas Elf at the start of next year."

"Great." Bernard thought to himself.

"I was going to write you a letter," she said. There came a deep breath. "And I see why you told her what you did, being head elf. But would it be possible to ask a favor of you since you are head elf?"

"It depends," Bernard said, suspecting his aunt would ask that he make sure Mindy was a toymaker elf, even though he felt he should excuse himself from making that particular decision.

"I don't think Mindy should be a toymaker elf. At least not at first," his aunt said, catching Bernard off guard.