The Snow Queen

Bedtime Stories

Jack evaded his parents' eyes when he walked into his home. There was a hint of pride on his face that they were both oblivious to. They were both completely baffled by the bucket of thawing water he'd brought home.

"How did you take so long to get this water? It's not even a five-minute walk to the well!" Nicholas exclaimed. Jack was in the bathroom, using hot water to warm his hands and face. He could still see the joy in the woman's eyes as he read to her. His father's words didn't reach him. "Are you listening to me?"

Those words seemed to always have an effect on him and he turned to him. "Hm?"

Nicholas ran his hand over his face. "Sometimes I don't know what we'll do with you." For once, his upset expression didn't hurt much; he'd experienced wonders he'd never believe. As Nicholas left the doorway, Mary peered in.

"Jack, where's my book?"

"Oh, on my bed."

She left and went to grab it, then he heard. "Why is it all wet? Did you drop it?" She sounded so stern that it almost made him laugh.

"Got a little snow on it. It'll be fine." He didn't say loudly enough for her to hear. He was in a daze—she had remembered him, she had trusted him. But if she was as solitary as Elrond claimed, then why did she linger so close now? Was he the one keeping her there? To a being that was born of ice and snow itself, he had to be so insignificant. Just as he was here, he ought to be invisible to her... but she saw him.

Maybe she's like me. Jack was thinking. People only see her as what they want to see. He couldn't shake the idea that she just might be able to feel what he did when she was with him. The fear, the curiosity, the rapture. What if she'd been lonely all this time too? Alone and scared and at the mercy of everyone else's perceptions of her, trying to control the way she behaved instead of reaching out.

Jack spent the rest of the night thinking of what he wanted to teach her, what he hoped to learn, and most of all, how long he could keep this a secret. He was awake all night thinking of her magnificence.

...

He felt himself growing impatient with anticipation as he waited for her again the following evening. He had no pail with him this time, but another one of Mary's books. He felt her presence once more as she drifted closer. This was progress; she wasn't hiding anymore but rather moving right towards him. Behind his grin, he was breathless. He watched her move the snow from her path so that it not once touched her flesh of ice. He'd been tired up until this moment, now he was invigorated, for when she approached, she whispered, "Hello." A new word he'd taught her.

He didn't want to reward her just yet; he held up the hardback to see if she understood.

"Book." She said with aplomb.

"That's right." He sat on the edge of the well and opened to the first page. It happened to be some sort of illustration. The woman took interest. "Um, that's a woman. It's what you are... I think." He muttered the final part; she might not identify as anything at all. She seemed almost like she wasn't sure, but she took note of the girl's features in the drawing. There was someone else with her, though. "That's a man. Um, a Prince and a Princess." She probably didn't care about the terminology.

He turned towards her so they looked in each other's eyes. He gestured to himself. "Man." To her. "Woman." Then repeated. "Man... Woman." He started to realize how odd it sounded calling himself a 'man.' Jack still felt like a boy most days. She looked at the page again. Yes, he was right. She was a 'woman.' It had been the shape she'd worn for so many years but never questioned what made her different from a 'man.'