Disclaimer: I do not own The 10th Kingdom. This is merely a fanfiction.

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"Finally! So good to be home!"

A cart drawn by a thin, solitary mule who had seen better days pulled up to a large, broken-down castle. The Troll Castle had seen better days and was in a state of disrepair. Crows cawed and vultures circled the crumbling spires.

"It's so beautiful!" Burly the Troll blubbered.

Blabberwort flicked the reigns and hopped off. She turned to the rear part of the carriage and smacked Bluebell across the head. The troll roused from his sleep. "Ow! I was dreaming about drinking a pond scum smoothie!"

"Get up you lump, we're home!"

"Took you long enough to get us here," Bluebell groused as he hopped off the side of the cart.

Blabberwort smacked him upside the head again. "Then you drive next time!"

"I can't hold mule reigns – I have delicate fingernail cuticles!" He bit at his index finger.

Burly held his arm out to stop his siblings' arguing. "Something's not right – our guards should be here to greet us!"

"Yeah, you're right," Blabberwort agreed. "Something doesn't smell right about this."

Bluebell stopped mid-stretch and lowered his arms in embarrassment. "Sorry …"

"Not that – something seems off here … look sharp." Blabberwort drew her dagger. The other two trolls followed suit and they began the trek up the hill towards their castle.

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BOOM!

The entrance door to the Troll Castle was kicked off its hinges and the three siblings burst in, yelling and snarling, weapons ready.

The entire entry hall was decked out with horrendous purples, greens, pinks – all manner of bright colored banners and paint splattered on the walls. The three trolls were revolted at the colorful decorations.

"Did I just inhale fairy dust?" Burly asked.

That's when they noticed two troll soldiers standing guard. Only – they weren't in usual troll armor. They wore brightly colored smocks and held long pink wands instead of spears. On their gnarled troll feet – they wore odd pink slip-on shoes. Not made of leather.

"Suckin'elf!" Burly remarked. "What happened in here? Did a pixie throw up all over the place? Again?"

Blabberwort approached the two guards. "What is the meaning of this?" She pointed at their pink shoes. "What is the meaning of this felonious footwear? In our grand hallways?!"

The two guards crossed their pink pixie spears. The spears made swizzle sounds as they swished. "By order of the Illustrious Duke – you are to be granted a brief audience!"

The three trolls looked at each other. "Illustrious Duke?"

"Come with us – now," the guard stated simply.

"We're in charge of this castle," Blabberwort retorted. "If some interloper thinks he can just swagger in and redecorate -."

"You won't take us without a fight!" Burly yelled.

That's when they heard it – music from up the grand staircase. Familiar lyrics.

"Night fever, night fever. We know how to do it. Gimme that night fever, night fever. We know how to show it."

The three trolls began grinning and high-fiving. "It's our jam!" Burly remarked.

Blabberwort licked her lips. "Well, at least someone has a sense of style. Take us to this … Illustrious Duke …"

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The troll siblings were led through a large, half-broken door into the throne room. They hadn't been here since that wretched girl stole their father's magic shoes. They grinned as they entered the hall, half-dancing to the music playing.

"Here I am, Prayin' for this moment to last. Livin' on the music so fine, Borne on the wind, Makin' it mine."

A short, pudgy finger reached out and pressed a button on a boombox. The room was suddenly filled with silence.

"Hey – put our jam back on," Burly roared.

The three trolls stopped in their tracks. Sitting on a throne, bedazzled in giant rings bigger than his hands and high-heeled suede duke shoes, sat a tiny imp-like man with bulging, lamp like eyes. The little man giggled as he propped his ugly shoes up on a footrest. "The three troll siblings – welcome, welcome! Like what I've done with the place?"

The three trolls grunted in disgust. "Rumpelstiltskin," Blabberwort muttered. "We should've known – only you have such revolting taste."

"Now kids, that hurts my feelings." The little man hopped off the throne and walked delicately on his high-heeled shoes. Even with the height of the shoes, he barely came up to their waists. He rubbed his hands together. "Come on, these are wonderful fashion trends from the Tenth Kingdom. You were there, you saw!"

"You've been to the Tenth Kingdom?" Blabberwort asked.

"It's called New York," Rumpelstiltskin replied, pouring a tall glass full of fizzy pink wine. "Was there many years ago – traveling mirrors and all, you now how it is. Came back with lots of goodies to share. And new shoes – you do still like shoes, right? Get a load of what your guards are wearing – in the Tenth Kingdom, they're called crocs!"

The three trolls stared at the pink shoes on the guards.

"Crocs?" Burly asked. "How can those pink monstrosities be called 'crocs'? Where are all their teeth?"

Rumpelstiltskin pointed at their shoe closet. "Also, I don't know who handled your wardrobe. I took the liberty of revamping, you don't mind, I'm sure."

The three trolls screamed in horror as they wrenched open their shoe closet doors. All their precious leather shoes – gone. And in their place – horrific pink and purple crocs, TOMS, high-knee Chuck Taylors, and – a pair of platform disco shoes.

Burly roared, his sword drawn as he spun around on the little imp. "I'll have your head!"

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. "After all these years and this is the greeting I get."

"What have you done to our castle?" Blabberwort snarled. "We'll mount your pelt on our mantle for this, Rumpelstiltskin!"

The imp waved his wrist. "No need to be so formal – please, call me Rumpel. It's as easy on the ears as my gorgeous physique is on the eyes."

Burly roared. "Enough from the imp!" He charged, sword raised.

Rumpel snapped his fingers – a wall of mirrors appeared in a circle around the imp, his reflection in each one. Burly thrust his sword through one of the reflections – the glass shattered, leaving nothing. The circle of mirrors dropped down to the ground and vanished, leaving Rumpel standing there, observing his fingernails. He finally looked up as he blew a dust particle from the top of his fingertip. "We done with the theatrics? Good. Kiddos – we need to have a big person talk."

The imp sauntered over to the throne and hoped onto it, steepling his fingers pensively.

"That's our Dad's throne," Bluebell yelled.

"Correction – my throne!" Rumpel replied. "Or have you forgotten the deal your ol' Dad made with me all those years ago?"

The three trolls scratched their heads awkwardly, looking at each other.

"His Kingdom upon his death – in exchange for those fabulous invisibility shoes of his. And – now that your father is dead – my condolences by the way, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, Tanchumin – the deal must be honored."

Blabberwort stepped forward. "I am the heir to the throne!"

Burly snarled. "What are you talking about girl, I am!"

"No, I'm the rightful heir!" Blubell yelled.

Rumpel rolled his eyes as the three trolls began wrestling and shoving. "If you're quite finished!" He raised his hand and a gold scroll appeared in midair. "This contract is magically binding. The shoes in exchange for his kingdom. I am the Troll King now! And you are my loyal subjects."

The three trolls stopped wrestling, Burly and Blabberwort holding a scowling Bluebell in a headlock. They dropped their brother to the ground and flexed their muscles. "We're not gonna be loyal to a gremlin!"

Rumpel stood up. "How dare you use the word 'gremlin' in such a condescending tone! After all the gremlins fought for to get land ownership rights -."

The three trolls were not having it. "We want our throne back!" Bluebell growled.

"NOW!" Burly yelled.

Rumpel clapped his hands. "Tell 'ya what – I'm in a charitable mood and I kinda like you three lovable lugs! What if I give you a chance to win your kingdom back?"

"How?" Blabberwort was suspicious.

"How about a game of chance? An equal shot for both sides. Equitable. Fair. And with three powerful trolls of your … ahemstaggering intellect … it should be no problem!"

The three trolls suddenly huddled up and began whispering. "You think he's on the up and up?" Burly asked.

"Of course not," Bluebell retorted. "He's a cheat and a con artist!"

"But he said a game of chance," Blabberwort added. "That means that the odds are just as much in our favor as his."

"If he hasn't stacked the odds," Burly added.

Bluebell grasped the handle of his dagger. "I say we rush him, you two hold him, and I stick 'im!"

"That won't work," Blabberwort said. "He's magic. You saw what just happened with the mirrors when Burly attacked him."

"Maybe we can outwit him," Bluebell suggested. "Come on – the three of us! Together, we're equal to one magical imp! We're smart enough! We can do it!" Burly and Blabberwort nodded in agreement.

Rumpel was standing to the side, filing his fingernails. "You know – if I had a pocket watch, I'd be staring at it realcondescendingly right now …"

The three trolls turned to face him. Blabberwort slowly stepped forward. "We have your word then. No tricks?"

"Have I ever been known to pull any tricks?" He smiled.

"Yes!" Bluebell hollered from behind his sister.

"No tricks," Rumpel grinned. "Trust me – my word is as good as gold!" He held out his pudgy hand.

"Alright," Blabberwort agreed. "For the throne." She clasped his hand.

The room suddenly began spinning. Their surroundings were morphing, changing shape. The trolls could feel their mildew-sandwich lunches churning in their stomach from motion sickness. The walls of the castle melted away before their very eyes as they fell into darkness …

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"Whoa … my head … what a crazy dream …" Bluebell sat up. He was lying on a dirt ground, wet and muddy. He looked around – a round object stood in front of him. He rose up, limping towards it.

It was a gravestone. He sneered, trying to read what it said:

RELISH THE TROLL KING.

"Suckin' Elf!"

Behind him, Bluebell and Blabberwort rose to their feet, groaning. They stumbled over to their younger brother, staring at the stone.

"Dad …" Blabberwort lamented.

A ROTTEN HAND SHOT OUT OF THE DIRT, GRIPPING BLUEBELL'S ANKLES!

The three trolls screamed in terror as a corpse rose out of the dirt. A troll with a crown on his head. The corpse of their father, Relish the Troll King, emerged, his eye sockets empty and staring.

"You three have brought insurmountable shame to me and your mothers! You're all a disgrace! I'm ashamed to call you my children!"

They backed away as their father lumbered towards them, his rotten fingers outstretched. He vanished before he reached them. The troll siblings panted, pawing at each other in terror.

"Forget a dream!" Burly's eyes bulged. "This is a nightmare!"

"Lookie-look!" Blabberwort pointed ahead. More gravestones. They were in a cemetery. The three huddled close to each other as they passed rows of graves – some old, some freshly dug. They reached the center of the graveyard as a white mist shrouded the ground.

Above them, three brightly striped purple and pink birthday boxes descended from the sky, hovering above them. Rumpelstiltskin's voice rang out from everywhere.

"Between the dark and the light – good and evil – which will you choose?"

The siblings looked at each other, more confused than usual.

"I … I think we're supposed to pick from the presents," Blabberwort admitted.

Rumpel's voice rang out again, louder this time. "Between the dark and the light – good and evil – which will you choose?"

A light shone on Burly. His mouth opened, his eyes creased in the corners in fear. "I … I don't want to choose! I don't like this game anymore! I don't want to play!"

"There is no turning back from the path that is before you. A decision must be made." There was a pause as Burly began to whimper. "Between the dark and the light – good and evil – which will you choose?" Rumpel's voice was more insistent.

Trembling, Burly approached the trio of boxes. He raised a shaking finger and pointed at the box on his right. "That one at the end …"

There was a moment of silence. Then, the lid of the box slid off. Burly bit his lip, his unclipped fingernails digging into the palms of his hands.

Nothing happened.

Burly breathed a sigh of relief.

Then the voice rang out again.

"You have chosen your path …"

A SPRING BOUNCED OUT OF THE BOX, RUMPELSTILTSKIN'S GIANT GRINNING HEAD AT THE TOP!

Burly screamed and scrambled backwards as two flimsy, springlike arms appeared from beneath the imp's grinning, giant, plastic head. A scythe appeared in his hands which swung upwards. Burly raised his hands uselessly in defense and screamed as the scythe swept through his torso.

Burly vanished where he stood. His siblings screamed his name as he disappeared.

The grinning Rumpelstiltskin in the box laughed and wiggled his fingers goodbye at Bluebell and Blabberwort, before springing back into the box, pulling the lid back over it. To their horror, the boxes suddenly began rearranging, scrambling their order, faster than the eye could see. Once they finished rearranging themselves, a light shone on Blabberwort. It was her turn.

"Between the dark and the light – good and evil – which will you choose?"

Blabberwort looked at Bluebell. He gripped her sleeve. "Sis – I just want to say, if we don't make it out of this – I WAS THE TRUE HEIR TO THE THRONE AND YOU KNOW IT!" In troll-talk, that was as close to an "I love you" that you'll ever get.

Nodding, Blabberwort approached the trio of floating birthday gifts. She pointed straight ahead. "The middle," she said simply. She gulped as the lid slid off.

"WRONG ANSWER!"

The Rumpel-in-a-box sprang out of from the center gift, laughing on its bouncing head. It swung its scythe at the screaming female troll as she vanished into the thin air. The Rumpel-head stuck out its tongue and blew a raspberry at Bluebell, before it sprang back into its box, pulling the lid over it. The boxes quickly rearranged itself.

"And now you are all alone."

The light shone on Bluebell. He stood there for a moment, a solitary sentinel left in this graveyard. His head was lowered.

"Between the dark and the light – good and evil – which will you choose?"

Bluebell stepped forward defiantly. "I refuse! I won't go along with this game anymore!"

"You have to! It's the only way you can save your siblings!"

Bluebell rubbed his chin. He wrinkled his forehead as he struggled to think, to work this puzzle out. "Burly already picked the right-hand side. Blabberwort picked the center one. But those damn boxes rearranged themselves. If I follow your pattern, then the logical conclusion would be that you're in the left-hand box. But wait – you would know that I knew that. So, you would assume that I wouldn't choose the left-hand box! So you wouldn't be in the left-hand box, would you?" He clenched his fist. "You take me for a fool?! I pick – the left-hand box!"

The only sound was the sound of nighttime crickets.

The lid on the left-hand box slid off.

Burly waited with anticipation.

"You have chosen … wrong!"

The lids on the other two boxes also slid off. A Rumpel-in-the-box sprung out from all three boxes. The three Rumpels bounced about, grinning, each one holding a scythe.

"You know – choosing none of the boxes was also an option! The option you should've chose!"

Bluebell cried out as all three Rumpels swung their scythes at once -.

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Bluebell dared to open his eyes. He sat up. The ground under him was hard, yet smooth – like glass. That's when he realized – it was glass! He stood up – Burly and Blabberwort were with him. They were surrounded on all sides by glass.

Bluebell banged on the glass wall. "Hey – let us out of here!"

Rumpels' face appeared in the glass, one hundred times larger than usual. He grinned down at them. "You lost our little game – now, I get to keep you as my little pets!"

It was then the trolls realized the truth. "You shrunk us!" Bluebell exclaimed.

They were in a glass vial in Rumpelsiltskin's hand. "I think I'll keep you in here for safekeeping. A pet needs a cage, after all."

He laughed, his face larger than life, distorted by the glass. The three trolls banged helplessly on the glass container as Rumpel's face vanished into darkness, leaving only his wide eyes staring down at them …