a/n: I do not own OUAT, Elf or any of the characters.
Oh hey there you. I'm sure you're here for the story…probably because it's a love story. You humans and your love stories-always expecting someone to tell them to you.
Elves are supposed to love to tell stories; I bet you didn't know that. It's a pastime I never cared for, but as an elf I have an obligation. I sure as hell wouldn't be telling this story if it didn't have to do with my daughter Belle, well adopted daughter, but you'll figure that out soon enough. Oh…I'm an elf by the way. You probably didn't know that either. There's probably a lot you don't know about elves, but maybe you do-I don't know you. But I guess I should tell you anyway. Wouldn't want to be categorized with one of the "bad elves."
There's only three jobs available to an elf-I wish there were more options but there's not. First is making shoes at night for that lazy old cobbler while he sleeps. That lazy bum needs to do it himself, but let's face it, we elves are just too nice. Most of us anyway.
The second job is baking cookies…in a tree. How ridiculous is that? Who comes up with this stuff? As you can imagine it's very dangerous especially during dry season-having an oven in an oak tree. Thing's always catching fire-no fun for anyone.
But the third job however, some call "the show" or "the big dance." I however, call it "a pain in my ass." Uh…don't tell the big guy I said that, even though he probably already knows. Just like he knows I would prefer working in the mines with the dwarves, but I'm stuck here.
Most elves though wish they could be where I'm at, building toys in Santa's workshop. It's a job only an elf can do, our nimble fingers, active minds, and natural cheer are perfect for toy building. Cheer…ha! That's something you've probably noticed I don't have much of. I did once, when I first came here, but one story at a time. I barely like telling this one, I don't want to start another.
Santa did try using gnomes and trolls, but the gnomes drank too much…not that I don't like a cold one every now and again…and then the trolls weren't toilet trained. Now that was a mess…
No human though has ever set foot in Santa's workshop…that was until about twenty-five years ago. So of course that's where our story begins. It was Christmas Eve and Santa was making his usual rounds-no real issues-a few hiccups here or there, nothing major…until he came to one of his last stops: some convent that doubled as an orphanage.
While he was placing all the toys we slave over under the Christmas tree for all the kids who don't have parents, he failed to notice that a baby girl, Belle as you can probably figure, had slipped out of her crib and crawled into his big red bag.
He didn't even notice until he got back and we were all celebrating a job well done! I guess I can't blame the man-anyone would be tired after the long trip he makes.
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"We've had another successful year!" Santa exclaimed happily as he held his mug of hot chocolate up to all the elves for a toast about a job well done.
The elves cheered, chiming in all their two cents worth, praising the fat and jolly man in red. Everyone took a swig of their drink along with their boss. Most of the elf's were ecstatic, acting as if this was a first, but one lone elf sat by himself in the back, his mug filled with hot chocolate just like all the others, only with a nice little addition to spruce the drink up. The elf, who had a dark black beard and a head of hair to match it just rolled his eyes and seemed certainly much less unenthused than all the others in the room. "And after all that hard work," the elf, who had earned the nickname Grumpy, grumbled where all could hear, "It's time to start preparations for next Christmas!" He said the last part with a fake smile as if he was happy to do such a thing, but he clearly wasn't. However, every other elf in the room, and even Santa, didn't pick up on his sarcasm and they all cheered in union, toasting the idea.
Then suddenly movement from the sleigh in the corner and a squeal caused everyone to halt, even Grumpy, and look over to see what it was.
"What in the sam hill is that?" Santa said as he took a step closer to the bag on the sleigh, which was now moving.
Everyone just stared; afraid of what it may be until finally one of the braver elves went up to it and dared pulling the sack open.
"WOW!" the entire crowd gasped simultaneously.
"A baby!" said one of them.
Sure enough, there in the bag sat a little baby girl with bright blue eyes and brown hair. She was as happy as could be and smiled big as she looked around at the room full of elves and their brightly colored clothes.
"She must've snuck into your sack at the orphanage," commented someone.
The brave elf picked her up then. "She sure is a pretty thing," he commented as he brought her over to Santa. "I wonder what her name is…"
Santa gently took the baby from the elf and grinned at her. The little girl looked up at him with the brightest and bluest eyes that held nothing but amazement. She had the rosiest cheeks and her skin was creamy and soft. She reached up and grabbed Santa's beard as she began to giggle.
"A baby this beautiful could only have one name, a name which itself means beauty…Belle," Santa told everyone.
"What do we do?" called another elf from the crowd as everyone there began to chatter amongst themselves about this recent event. Even Grumpy was intrigued, but no one noticed him as he stood and went closer to get a better look.
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So Santa had a decision to make. Fortunately for that little girl, when it comes to babies, Santa's a pushover. So Belle stayed here with an older elf, which by now you have to know is me. I had wanted children at one point in my life, but it never happened and again…I'm sticking to one story at a time.
But I am Belle's adopted father. And even though she was human, she wasn't any different from the other children, well, I mean…not really. Although she did grow twice as fast. Us elves are so much smaller, so everything here in the North Pole is made to fit us. But never once has she ever complained.
Just like all the other elf children she attended elf school to learn our ways and how to build toys. Oh yeah and she can even recite that silly code we all have: the code of the elves:
Number one, Treat every day like Christmas.
Number two, There's room for everyone on the nice list.
Number three, The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.
Now as you may know by now that I have a lot of difficulty with this, but Belle-well she's a natural. If any human were ever truly meant to do this job then it would be her. The enthusiasm she holds for Christmas, how happy she always is, how hard she works…she really does love this job, loves Christmas, and everything about it.
As she grew, she certainly lived up to her name, growing more beautiful each day. Luckily I never had to worry about a flock of human boys chasing her, but somehow she still ended up with one off the naughty list-he's really not that bad…at least I don't think so…but now I'm getting ahead of myself, so let me go back to what I was saying…When she was old enough I made her my own personal apprentice. See the big guy had given me a special job after seeing how unhappy I was just building toys…
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"I've never been in this room before." Belle's eyes lit up as she followed her father into a securely guarded room, built for only one purpose: housing Santa's gorgeous red sleigh.
She had certainly seen the sleigh before, but only on Christmas Eve when Santa was preparing for takeoff. She walked over to it and gently ran her hand over the gold rim in a loving manner. "Why did we come here, Papa?"
"I think it's time you start your tinker training," Grumpy told her. He stepped over to a cabinet in the corner in the room and began pulling out an assortment of tools.
Belle walked over to help him, taking them from him and setting them neatly on a workbench. "What do you mean?"
"Santa's sleigh, you're gonna help me make it fly."
Belle furrowed her brow and tilted her head, shooting a glance over at the sleigh. She tucked a piece of stray hair behind her head. That afternoon instead of wearing her usual elf hat, she had her long brown locks tied up with a bright pink bow, which matched her bright pink knee length dress. It was made of wool to keep her warm and lined in white fur to add that hint of Christmas spirit. She also had the white stockings, along with the matching pointed tipped shoes with bells on the end. It was pretty, but it was what all the female elves wore so Belle liked to add her own personal touch, hence the bow in her hair that day. "I thought the magical reindeer made the sleigh fly…"
The grumpy old elf walked over to the table and began sorting the tools, handing Belle a wrench and grabbing a toolbox. "Yes, but where do the reindeer get their magic from?"
Belle giggled at such a silly question. "Christmas spirit! Everybody knows that!"
Her father looked up at her intensely. "Well believe it or not-times have changed and a bunch of people down south don't believe in Santa Claus."
Belle gasped and stumbled backwards, nearly tripping over the foot of the sleigh, but caught herself just in time. She looked at her father with wide eyes and disbelief. "What? No…" Her line of sight followed her father as he walked around the sleigh, preparing to work. "B…but I don't understand. If they don't believe in Santa, who do they think puts all their toys under the tree?"
"There's a rumor going 'round that the parents do it."
"Parents?" Belle laughed it off, relaxing a little and shaking her head. "That's ridiculous. Parents couldn't do that all in one night. And what about Santa's cookies? I suppose parents eat them too?" She laughed again. This had to be a joke. Although her father rarely joked…
But even Grumpy had to laugh at that one. "Ridiculous isn't it?" His face went sullen then. "But every year it seems less and less people believe in the big guy. Now we have a huge energy crisis on our hands."
He motioned for Belle to follow him and then he pointed to a meter in the center of the sleigh, which measured Christmas spirit. Unfortunately the needle was teetering dangerously close to the red, showing the low amount of spirit that existed in the world. "See?"
Belle frowned. "I just don't understand…how could this happen?"
Grumpy shrugged. "I don't know, but…" He took Belle by the arm then and led her to the back of the sleigh where he opened a hatch revealing a very large cylindrical shaped engine. "That's why I had to build this little beauty."
Once again, Belle's eyes lit up as she took in the fancy looking mechanical thing. She had never seen such a thing. "What is it?"
"A Cringle 3000," he explained as he laid down on a rolling cart to go under the sleigh to examine it. "A 500-reindeer power jet turbine engine. Without it the sleigh couldn't get more than a few feet off the ground."
Belle stood back and just watched what he was doing, not wanting to get in the way. "So this is what you've been doing for Santa? Instead of building toys?"
"Yes," he called to her from under the sleigh. For a few minutes he was silent, concentration on his work and then suddenly a slew of naughty words came spilling out of his mouth that Belle knew could easily get one on the naughty list.
"Papa!" Belle exclaimed, appalled. "What in candy cane heaven has caused you to talk like that?"
Grumpy rolled out from underneath the sleigh and looked up at his daughter. "We got a short in the thermo coupler," he grumbled. "And there are a few other issues…it's going to take a good bit of time to fix."
Belle knelt down beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Papa, you don't have to be so grumpy…we can repair it, together, if you just show me how."
The old elf sighed and his features softened as he saw how positive his daughter was. "You know you are the only one who can calm me down and make me not hate the world."
Belle smiled. "I know Papa…now," She stood back up, ready to go retrieve whatever her father needed. "…stop saying those naughty words and let's make this sleigh fly!"