Candy Cane Kisses - A Christmas Collection

Elf

She gasped and stumbled and, helpless, found herself caught in his arms, staring into his eyes.

She remembered those arms. Those eyes. Those lips.

She was lost for a moment as his brushed hers, but the sudden spell was quickly broken. Alix was the past. Santa was the present and, she had no doubt, the future.

"What are you doing?" she hissed, pushing her former lover away.

It had been a rushed, passionate time. Heated as all Elven relationships were. She and he were together for less than a century, but she couldn't deny he had stolen a piece of her heart she would never get back. But, in taking that piece, he had left her scarred. He had a wandering eye. Wandering arms and lips. It wasn't until the end that she discovered just how long he had deceived her for.

"Claiming what's mine," laughed Alix.

"Yours? What do I have that's yours?"

"You. You're mine. You always were and always will be."

Cassiopeia laughed. Yes. The arrogance. She had forgotten that.

"We'll ask my husband about that, shall we?"

"Just because you wed the Father, doesn't mean you don't still pine for some Elven spice."

"It's a shame it leaves such a bitter taste," she spat.

She turned and walked away, fighting the urge to look back and see the smile she knew would be on his face. The one that rarely failed to disarm her. She hurried home, thankful for the first time that her husband wouldn't be back until later. She needed to compose herself, though she tried to deny the reasons why.

She had finished things with Alix when she discovered his infidelity. Hurt as she was, but still desperate for the feelings he stirred within her, she became a recluse, only venturing out when she heard he had moved away. The North Pole was such an expanse, she might never see him again. That was a blessing, though a sharp edged one.

And then she met Santa, something the Elves always wished for but never expected to happen. He was always so busy. Too busy to visit and meet the entire population. But, being the descendant of their ruler gave her a certain eminence. The role had faded in recent centuries, but that didn't alter the fact that she and her line were seen as, to a certain extent, special. The Elves saw Santa as their monarch now. Cassiopeia's reverence was something that had remained but many simply accepted it and deferred to her. They didn't question the reasons or wonder on the history.

This sudden appearance of a past she wished forgotten was upsetting. She was married. She was happy! What right did he have? But, that whisper of a kiss. She wanted it to be a shout!

No. No she didn't! Not at all! Never!

Except...

The affair ended, again, almost as soon as it began. Cassiopeia told herself repeatedly that she was only confirming what she already knew. He was no good for her and she had chosen well in being with Father Christmas. She lost the baby, by natural causes, luckily before she had to tell him everything. She blamed her supposed illness on the unaccustomed excitement of the festive season. She wasn't simply an Elf working on creating gifts. She was partner to the White Father. She would be fine.

And Alix, realising, she hoped, the futility of his manoeuvres, vanished once more.

Why had he reappeared? She didn't know and didn't want to. She'd been careless. More than that, she was stupid.

And then, time passed. Under the protection of the North Pole's Aurora, Time's wheel turned much slower than in the rest of the world. Elves lived extremely long lives, which was one of Santa's prime reasons for asking them to join him. Within the boundaries of the Aurora, however, even that was extended. They had witnessed such epic changes in the world – wars, famines, wonderful acts of kindness – but were removed from it all. They worked, fulfilling the requirements of the Elven/Santa treaty, the Christmas Accords, but, after so much time since they were signed, they forgot that they were fulfilling anything. They just worked and were happy doing so.