I

"Haha! Shrimpie, shrimpie!"

"Shut the fuck up!" spat Frank, "I ain't no shrimp!"

"Oh yeah?" his eldest brother towered over him, "then why's you so short?"

The other trolls all laughed loudly and Frank pursed his lips before running up the muddy riverbank and out from under the grey, stonework bridge. A few feet away was a tall, wonky tower made of deep blue compact soil. That's where mother lived.

"Go tell on us if you want," his brothers yelled from under the bridge, "but it's not like she'll care!"

Frank rolled his shoulders and slowly went to the tower anyway, squinting his eyes from the brightness of the evening sun. At the front door were seven Hell Hounds. They smelt Frank and began to snarl and growl at him. He flinched back from their dripping jaws before eying the Tower door anxiously. Maybe he should leave it; Mother wasn't fond of any of her babies but she hated Frank the most. Not only was he another bastard troll, but he was a little one as well. He wasn't even intimidating enough to properly guard her bridge. All trolls were hairy and over seven foot tall. Frank wasn't hairy and didn't even hit six foot. It was embarrassing.

"Go away!" shrieked out a shrill voice.

He looked up and saw, at the top of the tower at the highest window, his mother standing with a pair of binoculars and a megaphone. He saw her blonde hair piled high on her head. Her skin was white and smooth. Lady Trolls were always much prettier than male trolls, that's how they fooled human men to mate with them.

"It's me!" he said, pointlessly, "me…Frank…Ya son…"

"What. Do you. WANT?!"

He stared. Suddenly he felt a bit stupid grassin' on his brothers for calling him Shrimpie.

He shrugged, "I-I just wanted to see if you were all right…?"

He heard his brothers giggling delightedly behind him and he soon found out why. It seems the Troll Mother wasn't too fond of social calls, even if they were from her own children. The tower door opened, and a pack of snarling dogs joined the Guards at the front, and together they chased Frank over the grey stonework Troll Bridge, through the black Twisted Woods, across the pale wilderness of the Desolate Plains of Woe and into the cheerfully dark Halloween Town.

As he reached the High Street, the dogs made their way back home. Hell-Hounds weren't allowed in Halloween Town by decree of Mayor Pickwell, and no one went against Pickwell, not even the Troll Mother. In Halloween Town all kinds of atrocities walked about freely, singing songs and living their daily lives. Halloween had been a big success this year and everyone was in a good mood. Well…everyone but the trolls. They were pretty much obsolete now. No humans were scared of trolls anymore. Frank looked enviously at the Undead. It was all about them now; they were all the rage. Frank rolled his eyes. They weren't even all that scary, ghosts were useless and noisy, poltergeists were a nuisance and zombies were just unsightly. Trolls ate pets and goats. Surely that was more deserving of human fear than these poor shadows of death?

As the trolls became less useful at Halloween, they'd been relegated further and further away from the rest of society until now, when they were on the outskirts. Mother hadn't left her tower in almost a decade from the shame, resentment and anger she felt at the rest of Halloween Town.

"She didn't even want to speak to me," he thought mournfully. His brothers had told him how when he had been born she was so frustrated at having another troll boy that she'd attempted to drown him in their river. Fortunately, (or unfortunately depending on how you looked at it,) his father had stopped her. She tried other ways of getting rid of him after that, but nothing worked. His father soon vanished and Frank had never known him. His brothers refused to talk about him.

He watched the evening wane on and thought about going home. His heart felt heavy with the prospect. He would be mocked mercilessly for his humiliation at the jaws of the Hello Hounds today, on top of the usual teasing and bullying he endured. Slowly he got back up and wandered around town in the hopes of wasting more time and putting off the inevitable walk of shame back home. Because it was getting late in the evening many creatures were resting up, ready to cause havoc and mayhem throughout the night. Dawn and Evening were quiet times in Halloween Town.

Frank walked into the centre square and looked at the statue of Jack Skelington, the old Pumpkin King. It was said that Jack had ruled fairly and wisely for two hundred years before, one day, he and his lady love disappeared into the ether, never to be seen again. Frank stared at the statue and wished he could disappear, only he had no lady love to go with him. No one wanted Frank. Short, stupid, un-scary, un-hairy. Useless, useless, useless…

Finally he stood up, eyes shining slightly. No one wanted him? Fine! He didn't need any of them either! He'd vanish, just like Jack did.

"I'll find a place to be all alone," he decided, "I can live in peace, no one calling me Shrimpie and laughing at me being a troll or for being so short."

Frank didn't have any belongings aside from his tattered rags about his body, so he left straight away. He went in the opposite direction of home, hoping to see somewhere new. Maybe a new Bridge where he could live all alone, eating passing goats and scaring children on occasion. Frank wasn't deluded enough to hope for friends. He'd never had friends and didn't ever expect to have any. He didn't deserve the love of his family, which was supposed to be given freely and without judgement, so how could he expect anyone to chose to care about him?

He walked out past the Town and into a new set of woods, these were brown and light. The amber glow of the sun resting in a pink sky splashed a warm glow over the woods, making them seem soft and inviting. Slowly, he found himself inside a circular opening. All around him were particularly large trees and each one had a door with a painting on it. Frank felt a little anxious for he had never even heard of this place before and did not understand what any of the symbols meant. He frowned and geared himself up; he might not be the tallest, hairiest, scariest troll but he wasn't going to allow himself to get scared of some paintings! What could he do now anyway? Go back home? No way! No one wanted him there. There was no point being somewhere where he only made those around him and himself unhappy.

Choosing completely at random, Frank yanked open a door and went through it.

And that was how Frank ended up in Christmas Town.

II

Frank stared in amazement at the soft, white rain that drifted from the heavy clouds above. The atmosphere was cold and crisp, not unlike his hometown, but it had a slightly different tinge to it; a promise was hinted in the air. He put out his hand and let one piece of white rain fall on to his hand. It was very cold, and its fluffy whiteness immediately turned to recognisable water after a second or so. Had he transformed it?

He looked up and scanned his surroundings. The trees were all green and triangular. Little lights and treats were playfully scattered around all of their branches. It was very attractive. He walked over to the trees, inspecting tem with interest. His feet were bare and he could feel the cold white stuff that coated the ground pooling softly against his rough, hot skin. These trees were smaller than back home, and had a jolly feel to them. There were no skulls and scary ghostly images hanging up. Instead there were happy, smiling faces painted onto glittery things. On top of each tree there was either an effigy of either a small humanoid girl with wings, or a bright yellow star. Were these the Rulers or Gods of this realm?

He continued through the small copse, noting how scattered about lay brightly coloured boxes, all with pretty bows on their tops.

It was all so strange.

Soon the smell of mixed spices hit his nose and the sound of laughter and music serenaded his ears. A warmth he didn't recognise began to fill him up inside. He paused at the edge of the woods, almost afraid to look out.

Eventually he did though, peeking from behind a conifer tree he observed Christmas Town. The layout was similar to back home, only all the roofs were covered in snow, and all the chimneys puffed out warm, light grey smoke. The lights were on everywhere. There wasn't a single jack-o-lantern or anyone hiding in the shadows waiting to jump out on someone. In fact, everyone was out in the open, talking loudly or singing songs. Frank stared at the people, unlike back home were there was a large variety of different species, here everyone was relatively similar. They were all human-like, but they had noticeably sharper ears. They were all beautiful. He couldn't believe how attractive they were. All had warm coloured skin, a spectrum of honeys and bronzes and fawns and chocolate, and they all wore thick clothes of red or green, with silly hats on their heads and curly-toed, soft boots on their feet. They were all lean and sprightly.

Frank looked away and sat with his back to the tree trunk he had been hiding behind. They were so different from the creatures back home. They were friendly and kind. Perhaps he could make friends with them…be one of them? He looked at his arms, which were now covered in goose pimples. He looked at his ragged clothing, a pair of tired, sagging dungarees. He'd never felt so pale and plain before.

Still, it didn't matter. He didn't need to try and fit in with these creatures, he just needed to find a quiet little bridge he could live under for the rest of his life.

"Erm, who are you?"

Frank whirled round and stared wide eyed and a couple of green clad Beautiful People. One was a petite female with very long eyelashes that decorated a pair of very large, bright brown eyes. She had slim lips that were painted pink and were vaguely sparkly.

To her immediate right was a tall male.

He was also the most beautiful being Frank had ever seen.

Heart hammering very hard in his chest, Frank stared momentarily. The boy was tall and slim. He had very brown skin, it looked warm and soft and seemed to glow. His hair was short and jet black. Likewise his eyes, large like the girls, were dewy and dark like a Deer's. Frank looked down his mouth dry and his skin heating up.

"Maybe he can't talk," he heard the girl whisper to the boy.

Pride swelled up in his chest. He was already seen as a pathetic loser back home, he wouldn't let that happen here. He'd rather be a big scary jerk than a fool. Frank puffed out his chest and did his best to look scary. "I'm looking for a bridge!"

The pair stared at him like his was a lunatic, glancing at one another in confusion, then looking back at him.

"Why do you want a bridge?" the female asked as if it was the most bizarre thing she'd ever heard of.

"To live under!" he said as nastily as possible; was she stupid or something?

The couple blinked rapidly. Frank wondered if they were a couple and suddenly felt as if he hated the girl.

"Why would you live under a bridge?" said the Beautiful Bronze Boy in a decidedly catty tone.

Frank found that he couldn't quite look this one in the face. He could hear the blood pumping through his ears and his heart rate and breathing were up. "It aint nufink…" He muttered, all his swagger deflating away, "I just... That's where I live innit."

The pair seemed to lower their hostility a little, drawing closer to him. If he could bear to look up he would have seen a sort of cautious sympathy in their eyes.

"Where are you from?" asked the girl, her maternal instincts coming out, "what are you exactly?"

"I'm a troll from Halloween-town of course. And I ain't going back there!" he roared the second bit unnecessarily frightening them. It seems that none of them were used to abrasive words or voices raised in anger. Frank frowned; how different these creatures were from him and his family.

A few more green-clad creatures had heard the kerfuffle and were now making their way up the hill. On arrival they all watched Frank closely. No one had seen a troll before.

"Well this is Christmas town," said the girl once she had recovered herself, "and we're elves. We've only got one bridge. It's made out of a giant candy stick. It's only small though. I don't think you'd fit under it."

"You can't live under a bridge anyway," sighed the boy aka Most Amazing Creature Ever. " That's just crazy. How would you cook your tea or go to the loo or have a nap? What's your name?"

"Frank."

"Well…Frank…I'm Stephen and this is Chantelle." Frank blinked. Stephen. His name was Stephen. He gulped. Stephen was a nice sounding name. It was quite long and it suited the boy.

"We should speak to our leader," continued Stephen, " about all this."

"But he's away delivering gifts!" complained another female elf. She was the colour of dark chocolate and looked very cross about the whole thing. " Anyway I'm not sure he should be here," she added, giving Frank a wary eye.

The others around agreed with her; Frank looked dangerous.

"He's not hurt anyone," insisted Chantelle, "and he's only looking for a bridge to live under."

"You are not staying under a bridge," said Stephen, Princeliest of the Elves, "You can stay with me." He smiled warmly at Frank, who had no way of responding as he'd never experienced kindness before.

So he stood gaping like an idiot until Stephen, laughing softly, took his hand ('it's so warm…') and led him into the heart of Christmas Town.

"I just don't think Father Christmas will approve Fraser!" cried Alfie in exasperation.

"Why not?" answered his fellow Tall Elf, Fraser, who for reasons unknown (as Alfie couldn't be bothered to ask) was wearing a pair of glasses with googly eyes wobbling about on the lenses. "It's all the rage now. Kids will think it's crunk."

This was officially more bullshit than Alfie could handle.

"Right, erm, first of all, 'Pimp My Ride' is practically ancient in the Mortal Realm, so this," he gestured at the brightly decorated, offensive sleigh which was the source of their disagreement, "is completely out-dated as well as obscene. Also no one, NO ONE, says crunk anymore. It didn't even make sense within the sentence in which you used it! 'Crunk' is a verb not an adjective, you uneducated tool!"

Fraser leaned confidently against his tricked-out sleigh. He wasn't at all offended by Alfie's outburst and most of what the Tall Elf had said was already dissipating out of his brain. "Look, man, I ain't a teacher," he explained reasonably, "I don't know or care about linguistics. But what I do know is how to create a Hot Ride!"

"There is a problem!" shouted Cleo, bursting through the doors of Santa's Workshop and effectively killing their argument.

"Whoa there," cried Fraser, "Little Elf, why so much… hubbub..bubba?" as he drawled out the latter part of his sentence, he slowly leaned forward and pulled a hubba bubba sweetie pack out of the pocket of his blinging waist coat. He grinned at his 'punny' joke.

In response Cleo slapped the Hubba-Bubba sweetie out of his hand with a tsk. The sweetie could be heard smacking off the wall. Fraser went to collect it.

"A newcomer, a strange thing, has arrived just now." Cleo explained to Alfie, "We spotted him spying on us in the Candy Forest."

Alfie's azure eyes went wide, "OH, EM, GEE, seriously?"

Cleo let out a long-suffering sigh, "where's Rosie? You're an idiot and I need a proper Tall Elf to speak to."

"I'm a proper Tall Elf," he responded, feeling quite offended and drawing himself up. "I'm the tallest in fact. I can deal with this issue. A stranger you say? Is he dangerous?"

"No idea." She said with a shrug, "But he's ugly; a sort of pale grey, with a bit of brown hair on his head, dutty-ass feet, shit clothes, a bad attitude and some very sharp teeth. I don't like the look of him, but Chantelle and Stephen seem to like him. But they like anything that's weird or different. Stephen took him back to his house!"

Alfie knew that Stephen and Chantelle were very inclusive. They were friendly and non-judgemental, so Father Christmas allocated them to work with children who were ignored or forgotten. He could easily imagine them trying to befriend a dangerous creature.

"Lead me to Stephen's house," he ordered Cleo, impressed that she did as instructed (though she did suck her teeth-hard and long- before doing so.)

The elves of Christmas Town lived in small cottages made of gingerbread. Stephen's was no exception, though it was further out of town.

"It's a bit annoying being on the outskirts," he complained to Frank, "I like to be where all the action is typically."

Frank shuffled his feet in the white snow. His feet were beginning to hurt a little from the cold, but he didn't mention it. "I like being on the outskirts," he said roughly, "me and my family have always been on the outside looking in. Mum doesn't like it, but I do."

Stephen turned and looked at him with bright, brown eyes. Frank glanced away, unable to hold the gaze. There had been too much emotion in there; Frank could see genuine interest, as well as sympathy. He didn't understand it and he almost resented it.

"Why?" Stephen asked softly.

Frank shrugged, "I don't like other creatures much I guess."

He flinched a little when Stephen suddenly grasped his wrist, "well you'll like us," the elf grinned happily. He pulled Frank along up some pastel coloured steps to a round, green door. He opened it up (there was no lock or key) to reveal a small, but warm and cosy, interior.

Inside, Frank revelled in the warmth, digging his frozen toes into the plush carpet. Stephen invited him to sit on a sofa just in front of the fire.

"We'll get you some clothes tomorrow," he said, grabbing a furry white blanket and wrapping it around Frank's cold body, tucking in the edges, "I would lend you my clothes but they wouldn't fit. Do you like hot chocolate?"

"I dunno what that is."

"Oh my gosh!" cried Stephen, "you have to try it! I can't imagine going a day without at least one cup. What do you drink back home?"

"Drain water."

Stephen blinked in shock and swayed a little with nausea, "eh, right. Well, let me get you that hot chocolate."

He practically minced into the next room which Frank could see into as there was no door.

He lent down and tucked the blanket over his feet, which were steadily regaining their normal colour, before sitting up and looking around the cottage. It smelt delicious, and all around the room were twinkling fairy-lights, like what he'd seen out in what he now knew was called Candy Forest. The floors were rough wood, but had many thick, furry carpets laying over them to keep in the heat. The walls were painted a warm amber, toned vermillion from the fire. There were many pictures on the wall, mostly of younger Stephen and what Frank assumed were his parents.

Stephen came back in with a plate of cookies, which he placed on a coffee table in front of the couch, and two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. On Stephen's there was a picture of an elf with its arms out and a caption reading, 'kiss me, I'm elfy!" On his own were the words, "thank elf it's Friday!"

Frank didn't get the jokes.

"I didn't add cow milk," Stephen was babbling beside him, "because I'm allergic to dairy. And gluten. So it's gluten free and dairy free all round here. But the chocolate still tastes nice, and we have sweeteners in the cookies and soya milk. So not too bad…"

Frank anxiously gave a sideways look at Stephen and saw the elf staring at him with large eyes. He recognised that facial expression; Stephen wanted approval.

So, Frank sipped his hot chocolate. Thick, sweet nectar eased into his mouth, flooding his body with delicious warmth. He looked at Stephen quickly. "This is amazing."

Stephen smirked, all anxiety now gone from his face and replaced with a smug, cat-like satisfaction. "Well thank you. I added a bit of honey in there as well. It's you're first hot chocolate so I wanted it extra sweet and tasty. A bit like me."

He looked at Frank and stared. Frank was smiling- a genuine, sweet smile that seemed to soften his whole face and create a gentle look in those green-brown eyes. Stephen found himself smiling back without even thinking. Frank smiling was almost…almost… adorable.

A.N.: Almost. Not completely