Snow Prince

The Snow Prince

Chapter 5

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Lleu woke to a knock on his door. Shaking visions of sugarplums out of his head, he called to the knocker that he was awake. The door creaked open slightly and a pointy-hatted head peered in through the opening. There was a sudden gasp, and then the elf’s head vanished quickly and the door shut with a snap.

Huh, Lleu thought. That was odd. But I guess I’m strange to an elf? He shook his head a bit more, then swung his feet out of bed and into the soft slippers Mrs. Claus had left out for him. Lleu pulled on a bathrobe, and wandered downstairs to find out what one had for Christmas breakfast.

Chocolate chip pancakes, Lleu discovered when he entered the kitchen. It’s no wonder the Clauses are so…rotund if they eat like this all the time. There was cider to go with the pancakes, and fresh whipped cream on the side.

“Did the elf wake you up, dear?” Mrs. Claus asked. “I sent him up there, but he was so scared to be meeting you I wasn’t sure if he’d be able to actually wake you.”

Lleu nodded and swallowed his bite of food. “He didn’t say anything, but I woke up when he knocked on the door.”

Mrs. Claus tut-tutted. “I’m still not sure that it’s acceptable for the elves to be so very shy, especially when coupled with their curiosity. Do you know that they used to steal children in the winter? Children from your world, they’d bring them here, but they’d mix up the time sending them back. The elves would return children with seven years of their life missing. Can you believe that?”

Following his policy of not questioning the impossible before (during or after) breakfast, Lleu decided that he could.

But Mrs. Claus chatted on. “I still think that taking them on was the best idea we’ve ever had, shyness or no shyness. Christmas wouldn’t be what it was if it weren’t for those elves. We took them in after Nic- after Jack left us, you know.” She frowned at her pancakes for a moment, chewing and thinking. “It’s a terrible thing, but I think loosing our son was one of the best things that’s happened to us. It opened our eyes to things we hadn’t realized.” She sighed. “I just wish the cost hadn’t been so high.”

Just then the house shook and the shutters rattled in a huge gust of wind.

“The North Wind is here!” exclaimed Mrs. Claus, jumping up and running to the door. She spoke quickly to someone on the other side, although Lleu couldn’t see who it was.

When she was finished speaking with her new guest, Mrs. Claus turned back to bustle Lleu into the winter clothes she had promised. “Don’t worry, dear,” she said as she held the door for him. “The North Wind will get you to the Snow Queen’s castle in no time at all.”

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Flying while being held by the wind was a singular experience. Lleu couldn’t even decide if he was enjoying it, because he simply had nothing to compare it to. He was held snuggly and warmly in the arms of a giant man who only had a face, the wind howling in his ears, but not touching him as they rushed along. The world moved quickly below them, snow billowing up as they past.

Lleu hadn’t expected to be carried by the wind, and he felt a bit like he was imposing, but Mrs. Claus had assured him that it was okay, and the North Wind had assured him that it was okay, so he had had to accept it.

There was a spattering of lights over in the distance along the horizon, and the North Wind blew a bit closer to them. “That’s Solstice City,” he gusted.

Lleu nodded. “Mrs. Claus said that she grew up there.”

“Grew up?” The North Wind sounded almost offended. “No one grows up in Solstice city; it’s a city of children who never age.”

“Like Never Never Land?”

“Where?” the wind asked.

“Never-“ Lleu contemplated explaining Peter Pan to the North Wind for a moment, “-mind,” he finished.

Lleu bobbed a bit in the air, and then realized that it was because the North Wind was nodding. “The children of Solstice have everything they need, and at Christmas time they go into the woods and pick gifts off the trees to share with each other. I get to help Santa decorate them every year.” The North Wind sounded very proud of himself. “But we are not stopping there tonight,” he declared and swerved back on track towards where ever it was they were heading.

Mrs. Claus had given the wind directions, although the North Wind had claimed he didn’t need any. She had also given Lleu some parting advice. “If the queen is holding someone who does not wish to stay, she is required to give them a task or riddle to solve in exchange for their freedom. Once you’ve found Jack you’ll need to help him solve his puzzle as well as melt the ice in his heart.” She had also mentioned that he’d need to figure out a way in through the doors, which were guarded by snowflakes.

Snowflakes didn’t sound like terribly threatening guards to Lleu, but he’d grown up in a different world, and, as everyone seemed delighted to tell him, the rules were different here. Still, he had a vision of the snowflake fairies from Fantasia dancing with icicle-shaped swords that simply wouldn’t be dislodged.

Lleu turned his thoughts back to the passing scenery as the North Wind filled him in on all the latest Winterlands gossip. They were flying over mostly open snow, rolling gently and unbroken for miles and miles. In the distance Lleu could see mountains rising majestically from the plain, and they glittered in the moonlight. The North Wind blew along the base of the mountains, dipping into a canyon carved by a frozen river. They followed the river for quite a while, passing more frozen falls of icicles than Lleu cared to count, until it vanished into an open valley. In the center of the plain they now flew over was a glittering crystal castle, made of giant up-ended icicles that reflected and scattered the starlight from above.

The North Wind blew to the foot of the castle, and set Lleu carefully down in front of the door. “This is where I leave you; I cannot enter the castle unless the Queen herself invites me. Good luck, and call me if you need a ride back.” With that the Wind blew away.

Lleu looked up at the castle. And up, and up and up. As pretty and fragile as it had looked from far away in the arms of the wind, it was incredibly imposing when he was standing at its foot. Dragging his eyes away from the glassy heights, Lleu looked at the door. There were several snowflakes drifting in front of the door, but they did not seem threatening, not when compared to the door itself, which looked like the icy teeth of a monster, waiting to devour the unwary.

Lleu swallowed; maybe he should have paid more attention to the story of the Snow Queen as a child. He took a step towards the door, and watched as the snowflakes flew thicker. Two more steps and he could hardly see the door at all. Then a sudden gust of wind knocked him over. Lleu stood up again and took a few steps, the snow flurries lessening as he went. Realizing that the open field was in front of him instead of the door, Lleu turned around again, once more seeing only a few lazy flakes drifting between him and the door.

Now what? He wondered as he knocked errant snow off his fuzzy green winter wear. He stopped a few moments later when he realized he was trying to brush off the trimming. If I can’t just walk to the door, what else can I try? He made a snowball and threw it at the door. It flew through the air and splattered against the ice. Maybe I can crawl through. But he was shortly turned around that way as well.

I guess I should just be glad that they don’t have swords; that many would cut me to ribbons in no time at all. He threw another snowball as he listed the items at his disposal, I’ve got my wallet, but I doubt that they take Visa, let alone MasterCard. Mrs. Claus gave me some food and some hot chocolate, perhaps they’d be interested in a piece of The Fruitcake. Mrs. Claus had explained to him that there really was only one fruitcake, as everyone had always suspected. The gloves from Sandy, and a hat—why am I not wearing this? He put the furry green hat on, then tried the door again, but it made no difference.

I have one of the Keys of Winter, will that help? But there didn’t seem to be anything he could do with the Key to make it through the snowflakes.

What’s a snowflake’s natural predator? It wasn’t something he’d ever had to think about before. Heat? All I have is my body heat, and if that made any difference I’d already be inside. Rain? He melted some snow in his hands, and flung the drips at the door, but that didn’t do anything either.

What else do I know about snowflakes? None of them are alike. Everyone is unique.

“Pfft,” Lleu said out loud. “They all look the same to me.”

Oddly enough that had an affect on the snow, as it seemed to blow suddenly denser. Are they vain? Lleu asked himself incredulously.

“Maybe at a microscopic level you’re all different, but from back here you’re all identical.” They blew at his face now.

“You’re acting alike, too. Following orders and all doing the same thing; guarding the door. If you really wanted to show your individuality, you’d rebel. Stop doing everything the queen told you to, do your own thing, then even I would have to admit you were different.” The breeze had been rising as he said this, and at the end of his speech it blew sharply in his face, carrying the sting of flying snowflakes. Then the breeze was gone, and it looked like nothing had changed.

Lleu tried walking to the door again, and the snow blew thicker as he approached, but it never quite got thick enough to disorient him like before, and this time when the wind knocked him down, he was able to continue in the correct direction.

Forcing himself those last few steps, Lleu finally placed his hands on the ice of the door. As he did so, the snowflakes stopped attacking him and vanished but for a few drifting lazily in the breeze.

That was simply bizarre, Lleu thought to himself as he figured out how to open the door. I never realized that a snowflake’s individuality was its weakness as well. Oh hell, I never realized I’d be talking to snowflakes, trying to rescue my lover from the Snow Queen.

The teeth of the door grumbled as it opened, half going up and half going down, which did nothing to dispel Lleu’s vision of a giant toothy mouth.

When the rumbling stopped, Lleu took a deep breath, and stepped forward into the icy maw of winter.

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