Author's Note: Hello, all! Yes, I, too, am participating in this awesome event! In case you don't know all the details of the Fan Fiction Christmas Countdown, Lily Lindsey-Aubery, ccgaylord, and I are writing a series of short stories to celebrate the Christmas season. You can read more about it on my profile, or theirs (if you haven't already, please do). You will probably want to read the first two stories before you read this, if you have not already...the first story is by Lily Lindsey-Aubery, and is entitled "The Iron Hills Mall". You can find it on her profile, or my favourites.
For those of you who read and reviewed ccgaylord's story, "White Elephant", here are her replies:
(Apologies in advance for all the smilies)
OneSizeFitsAll: Yes, don't miss today's story. :P (XD)
Qweb: Thanks! (It's hard not using caps when Thor talking ;))
ThurinRanger: Yes, the chicken...XP All of these things were gifts that I've actually seen people get, enormous fuzzy slippers and all (I don't think we ever found anyone who would fit those slippers).
2MFriedmanFreak: Kitties! Actually no, that's not what got lost. Guess again! (It's actually kind of obscure in this one; sorry.)
Lily Lindsey-Aubery: ikr? Writing this made me want to go to a Christmas party with the Avengers so bad. Fandom probs. :P
ErinKenobi2893: Glad you enjoyed it! Thanks for favouriting! #awesome
Jedi Kay-Kenobi: Never played the white elephant game? Consider yourself lucky to have escaped thus far. It's actually really fun but you NEVER end up with the present you want. A gremlin? O.O Okay, yes I can see that happening with Loki. X)
MOSObsessed: So glad you like it! Yes, definitely do review Lily Lindsey-Aubery's story - she'll love you. ;)
Thanks everybody again! Now, on to Day 3!
OneSize back. :) For those of you who may not be familiar with the Frozen fandom, I have included a list of the characters mentioned in this story. Have fun, review, and watch out for the Easter Eggs! Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Frozen fandom, or any of these characters. I am very glad of said fact, because I don't really like Frozen. I did not write this story with the purpose to offend anyone, and am not being paid to write it (though sometimes I wish…:P).
Characters:
Prince Hans of the Southern Isles: The youngest of thirteen princes; he committed treason against the neighboring kingdom of Arendell a few months before our story starts.
Olaf: A ditzy snowman, who can talk, and does. Too much. He has a thing for Summer.
Prince Alek of the Southern Isles: Hans' oldest brother, who does not actually appear in the fandom, but is not entirely an OC.
Karl: What all thirteen princes call each other.
Elsa: The Queen of Arendell; she has creepy ice powers, a creepy costume, and was the one who originally built Olaf.
Anna: Elsa's younger sister, the princess; she used to be in love with Hans, but changed her mind and is now with Kristoff.
Kristoff: Anna's boyfriend; he's the official Arendell ice master and deliverer, and he likes to disillusion ditzy snowmen.
Sven: Kristoff's funky looking donkey reindeer; he's basically an animated, Disney version of Chewbacca from Star Wars.
Santa Claus: Seriously? You're asking?
The True Meaning of Christmas
by OneSizeFitsAll
On the third day of Christmas my true love gave to me three french hens.
Prince Hans of the Southern Isles was sitting in his freezing cell, writing a letter. It was a special letter, because it was a letter to Santa Claus, and he was asking for something very, very special.
Dear Santa, it said.
I know I have been a very bad boy this year. I know it was wrong for me to let it go and try to steal the kingdom of Arendell. I would like a new sled - a red one, with nice, shiny runners - this year, but Karl says you won't bring me one, because I have been so naughty. I'm really sorry, Santa, that I was so bad, and since it was all the way back in summer, and I'm really quite sorry now, won't you please bring me a sled anyway?
Your very sorry and very, VERY miserable friend,
Prince Hans of the Southern Isles.
He pushed the letter out of the window and let the wind blow it away to the North Pole. (He ought to have sent it up the chimney, but there was no chimney in his prison cell, so he had to make do with second best.) Then he sat down on his hard prison cot to wait for Christmas.
Prince Alek of the Southern Isles's conscience was pricking him. It had been all the way back in July that his brother had written him to ask him to bring him home from the prisons of Arendell. But it had taken him until December, and rumours that the Queen was looking for a suitor (unfounded rumours, as he soon discovered) to actually come to do it. And when the storms began and the seas became too difficult to navigate, there had been no help for it but to stay far longer than he had intended.
It was already Christmas Eve.
Prince Alek stalked into the lobby of Three French Hens, the fine hotel which his family had rented out, in order to fit them all in, to find eleven of his brothers there already, wrestling on the floor, fighting over newspapers, and generally making an unbelievably enormous row.
"Karl!" shouted Prince Alek with the highest volume he could muster, which was very high.
All eleven of the brothers looked at him, elbowing the brothers next to them painfully.
"I've brought Karl here for Christmas," said Prince Alek, stepping aside to reveal Hans cowering behind him. Hans immediately ducked back behind Alek.
Pandemonium broke loose. Again.
"Not Karl!" protested someone.
"Why on earth did you do that, Karl?" asked another.
"We're doomed," said yet another one, throwing himself down on a sofa...unfortunately on one of his brothers.
"Ow!" shouted the brother. "Get off of me, Karl!"
It was the practice of the brothers to call every other brother Karl, even though that was not their names. But it took far too long, when one wanted to shout at all his brothers at once, to say: "Alek! Ødven! Berthold! Jan! Pieter! Cesar! Reinhard! Ditlef! Eimund! Malkom! Fredgeir! Georg! Hans!" Besides which, after reading that list, I'm sure that you can imagine how hard it was to remember all those names, and who they belonged to. So Karl was the name of choice.
"Shut up, Karl!" boomed Alek. "No one should be in prison over Christmas. He'll go back in a couple days."
Karl (aka Fredgeir) whispered something to Karl (aka Georg) and they both snickered suspiciously.
The other Karls rolled their eyes and resumed chaos. Obviously Karl (aka Alek) was beyond reasoning with.
All things taken into consideration, Hans didn't like the look of things.
Olaf was walking around in the streets, being dodged by poor pedestrians and sled drivers alike. He, of course, did not notice the trouble he was causing and wandered about in a happy little daze.
"I'm just a happy little snowman!" he sang.
Suddenly a piece of paper fluttered past.
"Oh look!" said Olaf. "It's a happy little piece of paper! I'm gonna catch it!"
Away ran Olaf after the piece of paper, over hills and down them, around people and animals, and sometimes into them. Finally, after a long time, he caught the piece of paper.
"Oh look! It's a happy little letter to Santa Claus!" said Olaf. He read it, and then resumed, "from a miserable little Hans!"
Somehow it made Olaf sad that anyone could be miserable on this wonderful, beautiful, happy little Christmas Eve. And since Kristoff had told him (despite Anna's threats) that Santa Claus didn't exist (after which Olaf had had an hour long sob/melting fest which required that Elsa rebuild him all over again), it appeared that Hans was doomed to remain miserable.
Olaf felt his heart stirred with a great pity. Nobody should be miserable on Christmas! Someone had to make Hans happy.
And that was when Olaf got the idea. Why shouldn't he be Santa Claus for Hans this year? Why shouldn't he bring him the red sled, with the beautiful, shiny runners?
The idea was so absolutely wonderful and awesome and most of all happy that Olaf couldn't wait to implement it. He dashed into the closest store and purchased a big, red, happy little Santa costume. Then he bought a big, red, happy little sled. Then he ran home with his sled and his Santa costume and waited impatiently for nightfall.
It was dark when Olaf, dressed in his happy little Santa suit, dragged his happy little sled outside. He had already hitched Sven up to Kristoff's sled, and now he climbed on and slapped the reins.
"Come on, Sven!" he cried. "Let's go give a sled to Hans!" He then added, "Who is this Hans?" more from habit than for any other reason.
And off they went, skidding across the magical ice. In no time, they were outside Three French Hens. It was then that Olaf remembered that Santa had magical reindeer that flew up in the air and landed on the roof. And that Sven was not magical.
But he had to get up on the roof to climb down the chimney. There was no help for it. Olaf clenched his teeth determinedly, tucked the sled under his arm, and awkwardly began climbing up the ivy towards the roof.
It took him the better part of the night, and when he at last collapsed in a heap on the roof of Three French Hens he was thoroughly exhausted.
"Hugh...hugh...hugh…" he panted. But he didn't have much time to sit and pant.
He pulled himself to his feet and picked the sack back up, then began to climb, not very carefully down the chimney.
There was a strange smell in the chimney, and a strange feeling. "It feels...warm…" commented Olaf. "It feels...it feels like SUMMER!" He started humming his signature song as he continued climbing downwards.
A drop of perspiration rolled off his face and down the chimney. Then it was followed by another. And another.
"Whew!" said Olaf, "it sure does feel warm!" (Olaf was not brilliant, in case you have not noticed.) Very soon, the entire section of his body farthest down the chimney was turning into water, so that it was difficult to brace himself against the brick walls.
"I just love heat," he said dopily...just as if he had been doped…and fell down the chimney in a splash of water, putting out the fire burning below.
Prince Alek of the Southern Isles conscience was pricking him. In fact, it was practically stabbing him.
Most of the princes of the Southern Isles were too old for Christmas. In fact, most of them didn't believe in Santa Claus. For most of the princes, there was no Christmas Tree, no presents, no stockings by the fire.
But Hans was the baby of the family. He had never been told that Santa was just a story told to make little miscreant boys and girls to make them behave throughout the year. He had never been told that it was only Dad, and not Santa, that filled the stockings and left the presents under the Christmas tree. He still believed in Santa.
So every year, this year included, he had left his stocking hanging on the mantelpiece, for Santa to fill. And every year, until this year, Santa had filled it.
But this year Dad wasn't here. This year, no Santa would fill the stocking. Alek had gone to bed that Christmas Eve thinking that Hans absolutely deserved this. But then he had woken up in the wee hours of the morning, with his conscience pricking him.
He knew Christmas was Hans' big day...without any presents, he would be so disappointed. Something in the air...I believe it is called "the Christmas spirit"...stirred his heart and he suddenly felt sorry for his little brother, who would get no presents this Christmas.
Almost before he knew it, he was out of bed, and pulling on his dressing gown. Then he pulled open the drawer of his nightstand and procured his secret stash of Starbursts. With them in one hand and a flashlight in the other, he crept downstairs to the lobby/living area.
The fire had gone out during the night, and the room was bitterly cold. He crept to where Hans' stocking was waiting on the mantelpiece and prepared to slip the Starbursts into it.
It was then that he discovered there was already something in it. He shone the flashlight into it, and his jaw fell open.
"Karl!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. "Santa's REAL!"
The other twelve Karls tumbled down the stairs in their pajamas, rubbing their eyes. And then they saw the stocking.
Hans let out a glad cry, caught up his stocking and pulled out the contents. And then he burst into tears.
All the stocking held was a stick (vaguely shaped like a hand) and a few pieces of coal.
"Did you put that in there, Karl?" said one Karl.
"No...did you, Karl?" replied the other Karl.
All the Karls denied it in turn.
"Too bad Santa didn't bring us anything," said one Karl sadly.
"I wish I'd left my stocking out," said yet another Karl.
One more Karl stepped up to the fireplace and stuck his head up the chimney.
"San…" he began. Then he broke off. "Hey!" he called. "There's something stuck up here!"
All thirteen Karls gathered around the fireplace and took turns looking up the chimney.
"You push on that side, Karl, and I'll pull on this," commanded Alek, taking charge.
With a heave and a ho, and a lot of effort on all parts, they got it free, and it came tumbling down on their heads, inflicting bruises on more than one Karl.
"It's a sled!" exclaimed one Karl.
They pulled it out of the fireplace and stooped to read the label.
Merry Christmas to Hans, from Santa, it said.
"Which of us is Hans?" asked one Karl.
"Not me," said another Karl.
"Nor me," said yet another Karl.
"Me!" cried Hans. "Thank you, Santa!"
"Didn't he bring us anything?" asked one of the other Karls forlornly, peering up the chimney, hoping to see something else stuck there.
"We didn't ask him for anything," said another Karl, sadly.
"Um…" said Hans, "I'll share my sled with you…"
"Really?" asked the other Karls, brightening.
"Yeah!" said Hans. "It's my Christmas present to you!"
"And my Christmas present to all of you," said Alek, "is...Starbursts!"
The sun came up that Christmas morning smiling happily, just in time to see thirteen Karls piled high on a red sled with nice, shiny runners, flying down the snow covered hill behind Three French Hens Hotel, scattering Starburst wrappers behind them.
The End
Author's Note: *cringes* Nobody kill me, please…
Next in the FFCC, is Lily Lindsey-Aubery's story, "Calling Birds", due tomorrow. Please keep reading!