Beyond Christmas : World War Elf (A Santa Clause Fan fiction)

Chapter 12: Spoon-fed

As breakfast came to an end, Bernard sent the letter he had written to Krampus off with the elf that had delivered him Krampus's first letter to the North Pole. This was an elf he had come to know as Doom, the only elf in the South Pole that had the ability to teleport on account of her strong magical heritage. When he did learn about her, he talked to Carbon about utilising her abilities in the war, and she agreed and told him she'd already thought about doing so.

Bernard saw Doom off, and returned to his duties for the day. That was, training his group with Carbon in a stealth exercise.

That day, when they were training their group, Bernard couldn't help but see that Carbon was noticeably a lot less fiery than she had been the past few days. She was still harsh and efficient, but in a more solemn, cold way, whereas beforehand she was slightly playful and encouraging. He didn't blame her, she hadn't exactly had the best week so far. So he didn't say anything about it, he just let her be and cope however she wished. 

Dinner rolled around by the end of the day, and while everyone sat at their usual table and ate, Carbon stood near the opening of the gazebo and smoked a few cigarettes, looking out into the darkness which loomed over the site. Bernard was obviously concerned, since she hadn't eaten anything all day. But before he could get up and go talk to her, Kafka did, and he figured that if anyone could get to her it was him. 

Kaf was gentle to approach her, his hands in his pockets as he tilted his head slightly, and though she noticed him she didn't look at him. 

"C'mon mate, you've gotta eat something," Kafka said in a gentle, caring voice, Carbon sighing the smoke from her lips as she still refused to look at him. 
"I'm not hungry," she objected in a flat tone. 
"Look, I understand skipping one or two meals given the circumstances, but you can't go the whole day without eating."
"Save your breath Kaf. I said I'm not hungry," she finalised, and from that point Kafka knew it was pointless arguing with her. 

With a huff of disappointment, he spun around and returned to the table. Though before he took a seat, he placed a hand on Bernard's shoulder and leaned down so he was close enough to speak to him. 

"Go talk to her, Lieutenant. She won't listen to me," Kafka said, Bernard cocking a brow as he looked over at her.
"If she won't listen to you what makes you think my word will be any more effective?" 
"I just..." Kafka trailed off as he stared at her a moment longer, then returning his eyes to Bernard's, "...I have a feeling she'll listen to you."

Kafka went to sit down again, and Bernard stared at Carbon from across the room. He didn't think there'd be any point in talking to her, especially if Kafka couldn't get across to her. However, he didn't want to just give up like that. He'd look like a jerk if he just ate dinner while Carbon went hungry for the day, voluntarily or not. 

So, with a sigh, Bernard got up from his seat and walked across to where Carbon was, at the entrance of the gazebo. Once again, Carbon had noticed the presence of someone else, but didn't bother looking at him as she continued to smoke her cigarette. 

"You know smoke doesn't count as food, right?" he asked, half sarcastic, half serious, as she blew a smoke ring from her lips and refused to look at him.
"Ha," she said in a flat tone, Bernard crossing his arms as his demeanour became a little more stern. 
"I'm serious Carbon, you need to eat something," he insisted, though this seemingly had no effect on her as she just took another huff of her cigarette.
"I'm not hungry," she repeated, Bernard bringing it upon himself to stand in front of her, even if it meant he had to breathe her smoke in directly. 
"Am I gonna have to spoon feed you?" he asked, Carbon mixing a scoff and a laugh as she tapped the ash off of her cigarette.
"I'd like to see you try."