Page 53 of Velveteen vs. The Consequences of Her Actions

The door of Santa’s cottage opened. A vast form, clad in red and white fur, belted with a broad black band, stepped onto the porch. Santa’s cheeks were red, as always, but his eyes had lost some of their glisten; instead of merriment, they were filled with sorrow.

“Yes,” he said. “I suppose I do. Hello, Velveteen. It’s been a long time.”

“Not for me,” she snarled. “I lost all track of time while I was busy being turned to snow, severed from my own life force, and shoved into a rag doll. So it was a little surprising for me to get home and find out that three years had passed. Three years. You didn’t tell me. You didn’t warn me. You didn’t say anything about what was going to happen.”

“We told you that you would be stepping outside of normal time, out of the reach of the Calendar Country,” said Santa softly. “That should have been warning enough.”

“I trusted you,” she said, and her voice was a moan, her voice was a wail, her voice was an open wound in the world. Overhead, the Northern Lights pulsed in unconscious sympathy. She might have moved past Winter, but she was still an animus in a place that was defined by belief, and she was more powerful than she knew.

“I know,” said Santa, and his voice was nothing more nor less than a broken heart.

Polychrome and Action Dude landed on the snow to either side of Velveteen—farther from her than they would have liked, but there were snow rabbits in the way, and while that was a new and slightly unnerving development, they didn’t want to see what Vel would do if they squashed them.

“Vel?” said Action Dude, uncertainly. “Is everything okay?” He glanced toward the cottage with the open door, cheeks reddening slightly in embarrassment and awe. “Um. Hi, Santa.”

“Hello, Aaron,” said Santa, with a small smile. “I’ve missed you. I’m glad to see that you’ve been able to find your way back.”

“Eyes front, old man,” said Velveteen tightly. “We’re not done yet.”

“No,” he said, turning his attention back to her. “Do you really want to do this here? In the open, in front of your friends? I’m assuming you want something from me. You wouldn’t be so angry otherwise. Most people sit on my lap, or write me letters. They don’t call me out in the village square.”

“Most people trust you more than I do.”

“I suppose that’s fair.” Santa’s eyes went to a point beyond Velveteen, his face softening for a moment before he looked back to her and said, “And I suppose she’s one of the reasons you’ve lost faith in me.”

“Really. You suppose. Like you’re just guessing. Like you thought I was going to be all right with this. She’s not your daughter.”

“She is,” said Santa. His voice was gentle. “I took her in when she was a baby. I gave her my name, and I gave her my heart. I held her until her skin warmed under my hands, and when she fell asleep in my arms, I made the only selfish decision I have allowed myself in centuries. I didn’t give her back.”

The snow wolves began to growl, drawing their lips away from their frozen teeth. “That’s not what happened and you know it,” said Velveteen.

“But it did happen,” said Santa. “Maybe not always. Maybe there was a time when the Snow Queen came to me terrified of motherhood, and I gave her council, I gave her hope, and I gave her the chance to raise her own daughter, always knowing that Mrs. Claus and I would be there if she needed us. Maybe there was a time when my little girl grew up with cold hands and a cold, but earnest heart. Sadly, that time is not this one.”

Velveteen opened her mouth to object. Then she stopped herself, turning to watch Torrey and Jack trudging toward them through the snow. Jack was wading in it, the drifts extending almost to her knees. Jackie would have been walking on top of it, light and effortlessly part of her environment. Even the strongest spell, the strangest form of brainwashing, couldn’t have chased the ice from the marrow of her bones that completely. This girl, whoever she was, had never been Jackie Frost, daughter of the Snow Queen, heir to the heart of Winter. It just wasn’t possible.

Santa saw Velveteen’s shoulders sag, and he mourned for her, even as he knew there was nothing he could do.

Velveteen took a deep breath, visibly pulling herself back together, and squared her shoulders as she turned to face him. “All right,” she said. “We can go inside. Aaron? Lena? Wait for me out here.”

“You mean with the army of angry snow-monsters that you didn’t even have to sculpt?” asked Yelena. She looked at the snow bunnies standing rigidly next to her with obvious wariness. “Are they going to eat us?”

“They’re mine,” said Vel. “They would never hurt you. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She walked over to join Santa. He offered her his hand. She didn’t take it, and after a moment, it was withdrawn. Together, side by side, they walked to his house, and they shut the door behind them.

“Hey, Yelena?”

“Yeah?”

“When did Vel get fucking terrifying?”

Yelena smiled, the expression laced with worry. “She always has been. You were always too focused on her boobs to notice.”

“Oh,” said Aaron. “Right.”

* * *

Inside Santa’s house, the air was warm and chocolate-scented, much like the scent that accompanied Jacqueline’s snow globe transportation. Velveteen noted the similarity and filed it away for later consideration as she turned on Santa and hissed, “You should have told me.”

“I wasn’t allowed to,” he replied calmly. “Aurora still thought there was a chance you might choose to stay with us, and telling you that one of your first and truest friends was gone forever wasn’t going to endear you to our season. I hold sway over Christmas, Vel, but Winter is hers, and when she speaks, the rest of us obey.”