Gerda and the Snow Queen

That? That's the castle of the Snow Queen.

And what’s that look for? Ah! You must know one of THOSE tales. Never believe a tale, young man.

If only my throat weren't so dry, the stories I could tell...Mm…My thanks, traveler!

This story begins here, with Kay, the clockmaker's son, and Gerda, the weaver's daughter. They grew up together; born next door to one another, walked to school together as children, and learned their trades side-by-side as youths. Gerda’s journey weaver’s project was a cloak of the softest green wool for Kay: carded, spun, and woven with love in every strand and stitch. Kay made her a present in return: a shiny clockwork flower, no bigger than Gerda's hand, which opened to the sun every morning and closed as twilight fell at night. For his mother, there was a clockwork teapot that poured itself, and for his father a cunning little gadget that would polish the man's spectacles. Gerda knew that Kay was never happier than when he was inventing new and better clockwork marvels, and she knew that her clockwork flower was a true token of Kay's love.

Gerda was sitting in a corner, silently watching Kay work, when the shushing of sleigh runners stopped in front of the clock shop door and the woman came in. She was very different from Gerda and the other women in the village. The woman was tall where Gerda was small, willowy where Gerda was plump, and pale as moonlight where Gerda was rosy-cheeked. She walked straight to the front of the shop and stood before the counter and waited while Kay stayed bent over his jeweler's glass, tweezing a cog just so into place, bending a wire around in this way, and soldering with the tiniest dab of heat. After several long, silent minutes, he raised his head.

“Thank you for waiting,” Kay said, “What can I do for you?”

The woman's voice was soft and lilting. “On my mountain the cold is fierce, and the clocks run slow.

My clockwork servants creak and groan and will soon stop if I cannot find a way to protect them from the elements. I have heard of your genius with clockwork even in the palace. Can you help me?”

“She calls it ‘her’ mountain?” Gerda thought, “Oh, no! This must be the Snow Queen!” Gerda had heard the stories, perhaps the same stories that you have heard, traveler, and she knew in her heart that the woman had come to take away her Kay, her love.

Kay, however, was oblivious to Gerda's fear and worry. “I do not know how to protect the metal gears and cogs from the cold,” he said, “But I will think on it. Give me three days, and I will, perhaps, have a course of action when you return. However, I think I ought to see your clockwork servants and experiment to find a solution.”

“Very well,” said the Snow Queen, “I will return in three days. Then, if you would like, I will take you to the palace, but it will be a journey of several days.”

“I will have my tools and supplies ready, in the case that I must go.”

“In three days, then,” the Snow Queen said as she left the shop.

Before the doorbell had stilled, Gerda burst out, “Kay, you must not go!”

“Hmm...?” Kay did not even seem to be listening. Gerda put her hand on his arm.

“Do you know who that is? The mountain, the palace...she must be the Snow Queen. Her magical ice will blind your eyes to the people of the village. She will freeze your heart in your chest! You will become ensorcelled by her until you grow cold and unfeeling, and care only about the Snow Queen and your work. You will wither and die!” Gerda was panting at the end of her impassioned plea.

“Do not worry so, Gerda. She is just a person. Yes, she is rich and lives in a palace, but she has a problem that needs a solution, just like anyone else. And what a fascinating problem! How to keep the gears from becoming brittle in the cold...” Kay turned away from Gerda and pulled a book from his shelf.

“Listen to me, Kay! Please!” Gerda's eyes filled with tears, “She will take you away to her palace and never let you go. I cannot bear to lose you, Kay, I love you!”

Kay turned back to Gerda and was quiet for a moment. Gerda held her breath. She knew that this what she had dreamed of: when Kay would see her love shining in her eyes and take her in his arms at last. She just knew this moment would come!

Yes, well, 17-year-old girls know a lot of things. When you're my age, traveler, you’ll understand just how little you really know.

Kay put his hands gently over hers, but his eyes slid away. “I love you, too, Gerda.” he said softly, “But not that way. You are my dearest friend—for all our lives—but I don't feel like...that...about you. I hope we can keep being good friends...”

“Oh, no!” said Gerda, “She has already taken your heart!”

“No! I do not feel that way about her, either. I do not feel that way about anyone. Honestly, I do not think that I can. I am happy to spend time with my family, and you, and the others in the village, but I have never been comfortable with thoughts of romance, or kisses, or...well, anything of that sort.”

“I will save you.” Tears streamed down her cheeks as Gerda grabbed Kay's shoulders and pulled him down to her. “I will not let her freeze your heart!”

Gerda pressed her lips to Kay's, imagining her love flowing into him and melting the shard of ice that had taken over his heart. She had imagined this moment so many times, her first kiss with her beloved, but it did not seem quite...right. Kay's lips were dry and cool, and his eyes bulged open. His hands were on her arms, but they seemed to be pushing her away, not pulling her close. She let go and stumbled back a step. Kay put the back of his hand against his lips and shook his head.

“Gerda, I am sorry; the fault is not with you, but I cannot be with you the way that you want...” Gerda was mortified, and her tears fell harder and faster. She turned and ran out the door, across the street, and into her house. She threw herself across her bed and soaked her pillow with her tears for hours before she finally fell asleep.

After all that crying, she must've been as parched as a desert when she woke up, eh? I know just how she felt...Oh, another ale? How kind!

For the next three days, Gerda watched the clock shop from her window. Kay arrived early and didn’t leave until late. He turned the sign on the door to “closed” and did not let anyone in. Then, finally, the afternoon of the third day, Gerda heard the jingle of bells and saw four reindeer pull a glittering white sleigh to a stop in front of the shop. The Snow Queen pulled aside the white fur across her knees and stepped out into the street. Kay opened the door before the woman even had a chance to knock and motioned her inside. Gerda waited for the Snow Queen to leave—hoped for the Snow Queen to leave—for so long that she must have fallen asleep because it was dark when she was woken by the sound of bells. She lifted her head just in time to see the sleigh and its two passengers leave. “Wait, two passengers?” Gerda thought as she ran down the stairs and out into the night. On the front door of the clock shop, there was a sign: Closed. Out of town for three weeks.

Gerda knew right away what she must do. She gathered up her warmest clothing and assembled a pack with bread, cheese, and sausages. If the trip was several days by sleigh, she knew she would be traveling for more than a week, perhaps a little less if the magical white bear found her sooner.

Ah! I see you've heard the story with the bear, traveler. Well, there aren't any bears in this story, no matter what you and Gerda think you know.

Gerda set out that very night. Resolutely, she took her first steps onto the mountain. The road was wide, but the firs were thick and tall, and no sun reached the packed snow where Gerda walked. For days she trudged ever upward, stopping only to wrap herself in her damp cloak and close her eyes when it became too dark to see where she was going. At first, she imagined her reunion with her love and practiced what she would do and say to win him. As the days passed, Gerda began looking for the magical white bear that she knew would come to carry her to confront the Snow Queen. Her feet ached, and then grew numb in the cold and wet, and she daydreamed about riding with her toes buried in the warm fur of the bear.

As she climbed, the trees grew farther and farther apart and finally ended altogether, and the wind grew fiercer and more biting. It took everything she had for Gerda to continue. She forgot to look for the bear, she forgot her speech to the Snow Queen, she forgot to eat. At the last, she even forgot Kay. She simply trudged forward, head down, eyes on the road in front of her, one foot and then the other. She cried, and the tears froze to her face. She wanted more than anything to sit and sleep. She might have done just that, and then the story would have ended here, but the Snow Queen's gamekeeper was riding down the mountain just in time to catch sight as Gerda finally collapsed in the middle of the road.

When she woke, Gerda found herself nestled in warm fur. Her limbs burned as the feeling returned, and she gasped.

“Oh, it looks like the poor dear is awake!” an echoing voice called, and then there was a buzz and a clank and a whirr, and a shiny copper clockwork woman trundled over to Gerda and peered into her face with bright, mirrored eyes. “How are we feeling?”

“Is this the palace? Is Kay here? Where is he? Where is the Snow Queen?” Gerda struggled to sit up.

“Now, dear,” said the clockwork maid, “If you mean M'Lady, she is at supper just across the hall, and she does have a guest, but...”

“I must find Kay! I must save him!” Gerda pushed her way out of the chair where she had been sitting and almost knocked the clockwork maid down as she stumbled to the door. She could hear silverware clinking on china and feel the warmth of a fire as she pushed open the heavy door, but all she could see was Kay, drinking from a golden goblet and smiling up at the Snow Queen.

“She cannot have you!” Gerda shouted as she flung herself at Kay. She knocked him out of his chair and onto a plush carpet behind the table. She wrapped her arms around him, buried her face in his neck, and waited for the trials that she knew would soon begin.

Yes, traveler, the trials. I see that face! It looks like you know the same stories that Gerda knew.

The room was silent for ten long heartbeats.

“Gerda?” Kay asked from below her on the floor. “Is that you? What are you doing here? What are you doing?!?”

Gerda heard a soft, low laugh from the table.

“I think she is waiting for him to turn into a snake.” That voice was the Snow Queen, “Or perhaps a pillar of fire? I have heard those stories, too.”

“Gerda,” Kay whispered in her ear. “I think you have the wrong idea. Please let me up, so I can explain...and introduce you to my new friend.”

Gerda rolled off of Kay and tucked her knees under her on the floor, but she did not look up.

“Is this your friend that you told me about, Kay? She looks famished. Let the introductions wait until the two of you have eaten, and perhaps talked. I will wait for you to join me in the library for dessert.” The Snow Queen held out her hand to Gerda. “You, dear girl, must decide for yourself who you will trust: your stories or your friend.” At a loss for anything else to do, Gerda let herself be lifted to her feet and guided to a chair. But she could not seem to raise her eyes, even when she heard the Snow Queen leaving and knew that she was alone at the table with Kay.

“Gerda...” Kay began.

“I have just made a fool of myself and embarrassed you. There is no enchanted ice, is there? You are not being held captive, your heart is not freezing, and you are not slowly wasting away and dying. You simply do not love me.”

“Gerda...” He started again. “Gerda, I do love you, but not for the reasons that you want me to. I love you because you are kind and generous and intelligent and hard working. I love you because you pushed me into the lake when we were children and helped me study Latin when we were at school. I love you because you are my friend, and that is more important and more necessary to me than anything. Please do not leave me because I cannot be what you want me to be.”

“Can you not?” Gerda took a roll from the table and started to shred it in her fingers but had to stop. The bread was pale cream, light and fluffy, and still warm from the oven. It was nothing like the heavy, dark bread that she had brought from the village. “When she looks at you and says that you can solve all of her problems, that she needs you and depends on you, does your heart not beat faster then? In the dark of night, do you not think of her pale skin and long white hair lying next to you in your bed?”

“Oh, Gerda. No, I do not.” The tremble in Kay’s voice made Gerda look up. “I have never thought about anyone in that way. I have never longed for someone or daydreamed about kisses in the dark. I do not think that I ever will; that desire is simply not in me. I am never as fully alive as I am when I am immersed in creativity, when the idea of a new invention sweeps me away. The touch of my muse is more glorious than the touch of any human love.”

Gerda breathed shallowly so that her sobs would not break free.

“I cannot love you in the way that you need me to, Gerda, but I hope you will let me continue to love you in my own way, as my closest, dearest friend. Please do not push me away over something that I cannot control and cannot change. Can you love me anyway, broken as I am?”

Gerda looked into Kay's face and saw her own tears mirrored in his eyes. “I have hurt him,” she thought. “I have been impulsive and thoughtless...and so selfish, and I have hurt him.”

“Oh, Kay, I am so, so very sorry. We are the very best of friends, now and forever. You are not broken, you are my Kay, my friend, and you always will be. Forgive me for pressing you, and following you, and...” Gerda's eyes widened and her face grew red, “What have I done? I have come here and...and in front of the Snow Queen! At her home! Oh, Kay, what must she think of me? I'm so sorry, I've embarrassed you, and now I know she will throw us out of her palace into the dark forest where we will be at the mercy of the beasts! Or, worse, she will lock us away in her dungeon, I just know it...”

“Gerda!” Kay was laughing as he interrupted her panicked tirade. “Gerda, you are doing it again. Take a deep breath and let us go actually speak to your 'Snow Queen' before you can think of anything else that you 'just know.' Her name is Elfrida, and I think that she will like you...Or at least be amused.”

So Gerda followed her Kay into the library, met the Snow Queen (who was, indeed, amused), and then returned to the village where they lived happily—well, happily enough.

Nor the story you were expecting, eh, traveler? There's no spells, or magic bears, or pillars of fire, just a silly girl too caught up in what she knows to see what is.

Now? Kay's retired but still living above the clock shop; he never married or had children, but passed the business on to a cousin who had the knack. See that giant wagon being pulled up the mountain on the thick cable? That's his newest invention, and it means Elfrida can visit the village even now that her bones aren't what they used to be. And Gerda? Gerda still has tea with Kay once a week, but she married the innkeeper's son. They had five children and twenty-two grandchildren, and now they take care of her, so she has nothing better to do with her time than sit in sun outside the inn cozening drinks from passing strangers in exchange for a story.

Another? Why, thank you, traveler, I don't mind if I do.