Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Goodbye Miss Poppy!” The trollings chorused. 

Poppy sent them a smile and a wave as she left the school pod, entrusting them to a different teacher for math.

She tucked her scrapbook of the escape from Bergentown into her hair, jumping down to the next branch before continuing on her walk. She enjoyed teaching the kids history. She felt it was important to know, in order to understand their culture and the adults around them. 

She had a rule to herself that she never directly lied to the children when they asked her questions. When one child asked if the bergens would still eat them, she didn't try to dismiss the girl's fear. She told the truth, though she was quick to follow it up with words of comfort. These kids were smart enough to learn about their people's history, but there was no need to terrify them for something that would probably never happen.

She waved at a couple trolls she passed with a smile. They smiled in return, excitedly showing her the invitations they had gotten for the party that night. That made her smile a little wider as she entered the pod for her next appointment.

“Good morning, Queen Poppy!” The troll at the front desk greeted happily. Poppy smiled at her in return. “Are you here to see him again?”

She nodded. “Is he awake?”

The troll nodded. “He started his day a few hours before the sun rose this morning,” she explained.

“Is that my daughter?!” A voice called out, loudly. From around the corner came the former king of the trolls, Peppy.

Poppy smiled at him. “Good morning, Dad!” She said excitedly. “Are you ready for the party tonight?”

He frowned. “Party?” He smiled lightly at her. “You know I don’t come to parties without an invitation,” he joked.

She nodded, pulling out an invitation. “That’s why I brought this for you!” She handed him the red envelope. “I just started handing them out this morning!” 

He smiled softly, taking the card. “Thank you, mi viva,” he said. “Are you going to stay for a bit?”

“Sorry, dad,” she said, her face dropping. “I have to hand out the rest of the invitations.”

He nodded. “Okay. I’ll see you soon, then,” he smiled at her. “Te amo, mi viva.”

Poppy smiled softly at him. “I love you too, Dad.” They hugged (even though it wasn’t hug time) and she waved as he turned to walk away again. 

She watched as he walked into his room, where a friendly troll was walking up with some food for him. Distractedly, he placed the invitation on a pile of identical invitations, turning to talk to the nurse. 

“You know, you don’t have to do this every day,” the receptionist said. “We can remind him of things if you’re busy.”

Poppy pulled her gaze away from her Dad’s room. “It’s no problem,” she said. “I always have time for him.” She glanced over. “Are you sure he’ll be okay for dinner tonight? I might be able to step away from party set-up to eat with him-”

“Queen Poppy,” the receptionist cut in, kindly. “He’ll be okay. Go get ready for tonight.”

The young queen smiled politely, turning and heading out of the pod. Though she was worried, she had to start the morning song soon. 

—

Poppy grinned at her friends as she waved her people goodbye. Wrapping up a morning song was always a nice feeling- it was probably the only time when singing and dancing could make her tired anymore. 

She was interrupted, though, by someone clapping very slowly behind her. She looked around to find one of the trolls who never joined in songs staring at her. 

Branch.

He was a mystery to her. She was sure her dad would have explained if he remembered more, but since he didn't, she didn't know there was a troll living just outside the village until that year.

Unfortunately, it was because he had started to become a disruption to certain functions of the village. She had yet to be present at one of the events, but trolls told her that he would run in, yelling about the bergens, flailing and throwing things. The other trolls told her to leave him be, but she refused to leave anyone .

So, she started investigating the strange troll. He was gray, which she had never heard of as a coat color. He seemed largely uninterested in social events, and preferred more practical tasks. She admired that, though she had yet to express that in conversation with him.

“Unbelievable.” He stated, stopping his clapping to step forwards. “I could hear you from a mile away!”

“Oh good!” Poppy said excitedly. “I was worried we weren't projecting enough!” She noticed the forest responded well to their singing. It helped crops grow and strengthened the natural barrier the trees provided. If he could hear them from a mile away…

“Poppy. If I can hear you,” Branch cut in. “Then so can the bergens!”

“Oh boy,” Guy Diamond said, exhaustedly. 

“You always ruin everything ,” Satin scoffed.

“Bursting in to warn us about the ‘bergens,’” Chenille finished.

Branch tensed. “No, I don't,” he insisted.

Poppy found herself agreeing. There was a lot to be done around the village, and Branch had only interrupted a few events for trolls near the edges of the village. While yes, unfortunate, no worse than when Creek accidentally overbooked some events, and everyone was trying to claim each of the spots.

(Poppy tended to handle the scheduling by herself after that.)

“Branch, no one has seen a bergen in over 20 years,” Poppy said, trying to draw the others’ ire away. “They're not going to find us.”

“No,” he shot back. “They're not going to find me. ‘Cause I'll be in my heavily fortified, bergen-proof, survival bunker.”

Poppy face shifted. “Does that mean you're not coming to the party?” She questioned, genuinely. 

Her friends, though, immediately started arguing on behalf of the party, trying to hype it up for the gray troll.

“Big?!” He picked out from them talking. “Loud?! Crazy?! You're just going to bring the bergens right to us!”

Next to Poppy, Cooper snorted. “Are you sure you want to invite this party pooper to poop on your party?” He said, whispering loudly.

“Yes,” she said decisively. “I don't want to leave anyone out.” She turned back to the aforementioned troll. “Branch,” she said, drawing his attention. “I know you're not the biggest fan of parties, but I really believe you'd like this one if you give it a chance.” She reached into her hair and pulled out a scrapbooked card. She didn't have anywhere near enough time to make these for every troll, but sometimes she liked using her limited time between parties to put some care into special cards.

The card she pulled out popped up with flowers and a rainbow, and then a small little version of Branch holding a heart. (They didn't have gray felt, so she improvised with some less saturated green. It wasn't her favorite thing, but it would do in a pinch.) The card also sang a little tune she had had one of her friends record for her. It wasn't anything stellar, but she was really proud of it.

“So?” She asked, proddingly.

Branch stared at her and slowly took the card. Poppy smiled wider. He always took the cards. Even if he didn't come to the party, he would at least have that-

His face morphed in anger, and in a quick movement, he had slammed the card onto the ground and stomped on it. Poppy felt like her soul left her body. Distantly, she was aware of her friends gasping behind her.

“I won't be caught dead at your party,” Branch growled. “But you will be: caught and dead. ”

Poppy was only slightly aware of Creek arriving, and him saying something to Branch. She, however, was frozen in shock.

The little flowers were crooked, springs bent and broken. The petals were crumpled and crushed, and the rainbow hadn't fared much better. The tiny Branch had lost his eyes, and was lying face down in the dirt.

The mechanisms for the flowers had taken her an entire break to do. She had stayed up, ignoring sleep to finish them. Sure, the other troll had never been eager about one of her parties, but he always took the cards. She enjoyed the satisfaction of giving someone a handmade gift, and she knew that most other trolls loved receiving them.

…or did they?

She was pulled out of her thoughts by a chime.

“Hug time!” Her friends chorused happily. She put on a smile and joined the group hug. She basked in the comfort until she felt strange movements, and then the group was missing one member. She stepped back herself to find Branch picking up his supplies and glaring at her.

“When the bergens find us, and the lives of every troll is on the line, I hope the answer is singing, dancing and hugging,” he snapped, angrily. “Because that's all you know how to do!”

“That's not true!” Biggie burst in. “Queen Poppy can also scrapbook!”

Poppy felt her face fall. Was that all her trolls thought she could do? Even her friends?

Branch scoffed. “I can't believe they made you queen,” he snapped, turning and walking into the forest.

She watched with a frown as he walked into the forest. Was he just the only one willing to say what they were all thinking? Was he the only one who saw who she truly was?

“Hey,” a voice cut in. “Tune out his negative vibrations, Poppy.” Creek stepped in front of her, giving her a smooth smile. “He's toxic .”

She smiled hesitantly. “Yeah, I guess…”

He smiled at her, not paying attention to her hesitance. “You guess right,” he said, delicately. He reached out and touched her nose “Boop!”

She sent him another small smile, watching her friends all walk away, chatting excitedly about the day ahead. 

Once they were out of earshot, though, she frowned, letting out a sigh.

She turned to the forest where the gray troll had disappeared. Her friends insisted she had to focus on what she could control, but wasn't the whole point of being queen about focusing on her people? How would she know she couldn't control certain things until she tried? 

And how did she know when she just wasn't trying hard enough? If the past kings and queens had just given up on the escape because they couldn't “control” the bergens, then they might never have escaped.

And yeah, she couldn't change a storm, but she could prepare for it and plan how to move past it.

Earlier that day, Satin and Chenille had made some wonderful dresses for her, that she absolutely loved! …it was just that… she couldn't look at them without thinking about how the materials would have been useful for so many different crafts and construction projects.

While she had led a sing-along for the village to work on a handful of new pods for their growing population, they still had to rebuild the community arts-and-crafts pod after the storm that had just blown through. Their grove protected them from a lot of dangerous weather, but they couldn't be lucky forever.

She resolved that she'd have to build this party up as much as she could, to ride the wave of excitement into the next village project.

(Getting trolls to show up to parties was easy. Getting them to show up to help gather crops was not. So, Poppy threw crop-gathering parties. House-building parties. History-lesson parties. And so on and so forth. It didn't hurt that she loved parties, too.)

She walked off to her village, getting ready to start the day.

—

The party was going fantastically!! Poppy could see trolls who didn’t usually come to parties there, even the critternarian, Milton Moss! After months of toiling away, her hard work was paying off!

She could see trolls laughing, dancing, feeling light in a way that she hadn’t in a while. From the stage in the front, she bounced along excitedly. It was her favorite music, her favorite people, her favorite everything!  

She saw her friends at the edge of the party and signaled them, a smile consuming her face. 

They released the glitter flowers, which had been building up all day. They all combined into an explosion in the air, dazzling every troll in the grove.

Poppy grinned as the crowd began dancing in renewed excitement. This was her favorite part of parties. The community and connection between everyone, creating something where others would leave feeling charged up and excited for what was ahead.

“I can’t hear you!!” She yelled. A cheer went up among her people.

She let them dance through one more song before signaling for Suki to lower the volume of the music. Luckily, the trolls noticed, and turned to the stage. 

“Thank you all so much for coming!” She said. “I just wanted to take a minute, and get real for a second.”

“Poppy!” Biggie shouted. “That’s my friend! I know her!” 

Luckily, the rest of her friends turned and shushed him so she could continue. She looked fondly at him before turning back to the crowd at large. 

“I’d like to remember all the trolls who got us to this point, where we can celebrate 20 years of being free,” she spoke. “I’d like to thank my father, who led our people out of the tree, and all those who dug the tunnels for us to escape through. And I’d like to remember those we lost on the way.” The crowd grew quiet, which she let hang in the air for a moment longer, before continuing. “It’s through our togetherness that we’re here today, and with that togetherness, I’d like to make sure we’re here to stay! This week, I will be hosting a community event to rebuild the arts-and-crafts pod. There will be fun snacks, provided by a handful of our lovely bakeries-” She pointed at the bakers she had noticed in the crowd, who smiled and blushed at the attention. “-and give-away craft kits, to try out in the newly-rebuilt community pod!” The crowd cheered, chattering excitedly. “And now, let’s get back to this party!” She called. 

Suki nodded, turning the music back on. The crowd was swept into another frenzy, all smiling and partying. 

Poppy looked out on her success and smiled. These were the times she truly felt like a Queen. It more than made up for the hours of cleaning she’d have to go through once everyone went off to bed.

She paused, though, when she felt a vibration that made the pods shake. It was rhythmic, which made her wince internally. They couldn’t just destroy their own pods with their volume. She turned to Suki and gestured for her to turn down the bass.

Her friend looked at her with confusion, but lowered the music. Trolls began to look up curiously. 

The vibration, though, didn’t stop. It got louder . Instead of coming from the party in front of her, it seemed to be coming from the forest behind her.

She motioned for Suki to cut the music, causing a murmur to go up through the trolls. Poppy held her hands up reassuringly, but listened closely. Critters usually left them alone, but it wouldn’t be the first time they had to pause a party for one passing through. 

She turned around, looking into the forest as she listened. Something moved, and she followed it up to a pair of glowing, yellow eyes. It wasn’t a critter smiling at her as it approached. The lights from the party made everything more and more clear. 

It was a bergen .

Chapter Text

“ Run!!! ” She yelled to her people. They started scrambling, frantically. She hoped no one got caught in the crush, but they couldn’t take time to be safe. 

The bergen frowned, walking faster. 

They could scatter to the forest, but then they had no way of finding each other again. 

“ Blend in! ” She commanded. “ Blend in! ” 

She had barely finished her call when she had to duck, dashing away as a giant hand reached for her. She struck out with her hair, temporarily making it pause, but then it returned with a vengeance. 

She was about to be grabbed when a force pushed her out of the way. She tumbled, getting a glimpse of a tuft of blue hair being carried away as she heard Smidge’s yell.

“Miss Poppy!” A terrified voice called out. She looked to find she had landed near the group of trollings she taught, looking at her with wide eyes. 

(She could save Smidge later-)

“Come on!” She commanded, pushing them towards the tall grass. “Like we practiced!” 

With clear instructions, the trollings morphed their hair into shoots of grass, extending them to block sight of their bodies. When the bergen looked again, she didn’t see them. She did, however, see the troll who couldn’t extend his hair, trying to hide amongst them.

She plucked Cooper out from the grasses, already turning elsewhere. Poppy, however, yelled, following him. Out from the grasses, she saw most of her people escaping into designated covers- in bushes, under flowers and roots, and anywhere else where they could camouflage themselves.

In the middle of the clearing, though, a few more trolls were still running in plain sight. Poppy watched as Creek ran into Guy Diamond in his panicked run, knocking the other troll over. Guy was snatched, and only seconds later, the hand was back out, reaching for Creek, who did not look back in his run. He was snatched as well, though not before he caught sight of the Queen. “Poppy!” He yelled, reaching out.

She immediately reached back with her hair, holding tight. She tried to tilt her head back up, pulling, but the bergen was stronger than she was. And then-

Her hair gave way, so suddenly that she tumbled backwards. She watched the pieces float down to the ground, chopped short by the chef’s knife. Once Creek was shoved in the bag, the chef reached for her as well, but stopped short when something hit her foot. 

“Bad bergen! Bad, bad bergen!” 

Poppy felt herself moving before she fully registered what she was seeing. “ Dad !” She cried, as the bergen reached for him. Fueled by panic, she outsped the reaching hand, dragging her Dad past the bergen’s grip, and under the very stage she had stood proudly on top of only moments earlier. 

By the time the bergen kneeled down to look, she had camouflaged them to the boulders they were next to, hoping to all music that her dad would know to be quiet.

After much too long of a moment, the bergen huffed, standing up. 

She looked around at the trashed, empty grove. “Thanks for throwing the biggest, the loudest party ever,” she mocked. 

She walked off, but not before knocking over one of the pods they had just built at the last party.

Slowly, Poppy listened to her go, before seeing her trolls slowly start to emerge from their hiding places. She slowly retracted her hair, wincing as it settled incorrectly thanks to her new haircut. They all looked to her, eyes as wide and terrified as the trollings’ had been. 

“What do we do now, Queen Poppy?” Harper asked. Poppy recognized her from her work painting community murals around the village. She had also taught Harper not too long ago.

“Is it coming back?” Someone else asked.

Looking around in shock, she noticed other faces that were missing. Suki was gone. Biggie was missing. Satin and Chenille were nowhere to be seen. Slowly, trolls started melting out of the forest, but her friends were not among them. 

“Mi viva, we need to hide!” Peppy yelled, trying to pull Poppy with him. 

“No, Dad!” She cried out. “I need to save them!”

“Viva-”

“Dad!” She interrupted. “No troll left behind, remember?”

Her dad looked at her in confusion. “What-?”

She winced, as he became confused again. He wasn’t the king he used to be. Looking around the panicked crowd, she was reminded of something.

“Everyone, listen closely!” She commanded. “I’m not going to lie to you. The bergen is gone, but we don’t know when it will come back.” The crowd gasped in alarm. “I know. But we must stay strong! I want all of you to go into your homes and grab whatever you think we may need. Find the trolls who fled to the forest and regroup here!”

The crowd shifted nervously, looking uncertainly at her. 

“Harper,” she directed. The teenage troll perked up at the attention. “I need you to keep an eye on the trollings- make sure they don’t get lost while everyone’s moving.” She reached into her hair. “This is the class list. I need you to make sure they’re all here.” The troll looked at her nervously, but nodded. 

“Dr. Moonbloom,” she commanded into the crowd. The village doctor stepped forwards. “I need you to keep an eye for the elderly and injured. Make sure no one got hurt in the panic.”

She continued directing a handful of leaders, before turning and walking into the forest. 

“Wait!” She turned to find one of the trollings running towards her. She knelt down to meet them where they were at. “Where are you going?!” They demanded, desperately.

Poppy smiled reassuringly. “I’m going to go get help.”

—

“Branch! Branch! Branch!” She demanded, desperately, as she knocked on the rock that seemed to be his door. “Branch?! Are you in there?!”

“I’m not coming to your stupid party,” he hissed, without opening the door.

“The party's over!” She exclaimed. “We just got attacked by a bergen!”

She heard something quiet from behind her, but before she could turn around, something wrapped around her waist and pulled her down. On instinct, she swung outwards.

“Ow!”

She was dropped, and she quickly scrambled to her feet. When she turned, she realized she had punched Branch himself in the face.

“Oh my gosh!” She exclaimed in a panic. “I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were the one who grabbed me-!”

He hushed her, and began moving around quickly. She watched in confusion as he shut the door and secured it in half a million different ways.

“What are you-?”

He shushed her. 

She stared at him incredulously. “What-?”

He shushed her again. She narrowed her eyes and raised her hand like she always taught trollings to do. 

He narrowed his own eyes at her. “Why are you trying to lead the bergen right to us ?!” He whispered sharply. 

“The bergen’s gone!” She argued. 

“You don’t know that!” He argued back.

“Yes!” She snapped. “I do ! It took my friends, and Smidge gave her life for mine, and I failed to save Creek-!”

“What happened to your hair?” Branch said, suddenly, as if looking at her for the first time. 

She tensed. “The bergen had a knife,” she explained shortly. “It doesn’t matter,” she redirected. “I need your help.”

He scoffed. “I’m not going on a rescue mission with you to Bergentown.”

“...that’s not what I was going to ask,” she said. “You know this forest, and how to hide better than anyone,” she explained. “I was hoping…” she paused, gathering her breath. “I was hoping you would be able to help the other trolls while I go to save my friends.”

“What?!” He burst out. “You wouldn’t survive out there, and I can’t lead the people when you don’t come back!”

She glared at him. “I will come back,” she stated flatly. “And I’m not asking you to lead them,” she intoned. “I’ve already asked trolls to keep an eye on each other. I’m just asking you to help them hide .”

“And I’m saying ‘no.’” He crossed his arms in defiance. 

She faltered, but nodded. “Okay,” she said, voice back to neutral. “Thank you for your time. May I leave now?”

Branch frowned, glancing upwards. “But it’s not safe out there,” he protested. 

She nodded again. “I am aware. As Queen, though, I cannot hide myself while leaving my people unsafe. It wouldn’t be fair.”

Slowly, the gray troll nodded, opening the locks for the hatch. Once it was open, she stepped out. She paused, listening to the door shut again. “At least one troll will be safe,” she muttered to herself. “I’m sorry, Dad. I’m trying to not leave anyone behind, I am .” Blinking away her tears, she sighed, gathering herself. She walked back towards the village, trying to think of where to lead her trolls. Then, she had to go save the others.

Unknown to her, Branch sat, just below the trap door, and heard her muttering. He looked down at his bunker and sighed. 

—

The trollings were the first ones to see Poppy approaching. 

“Miss Poppy!” One of them called, drawing attention.

Trolls immediately began clamouring for her attention, each calling out questions and concerns to the queen.

“Thank you, everyone!” She called out. The village quieted. “I hear your concerns, and will try to answer them shortly, but first, I need to talk to the trolls I identified before I left.”

A handful of trolls stepped forwards. Poppy smiled at them and gestured for them to follow her away from the rest of the crowd.

“All the trollings are accounted for,” Harper noted, immediately. 

Dr. Moonbloom nodded. “And no one was too injured. A couple of the more elderly trolls got confused in the panic, but they’ve all been found in the forest.”

Poppy nodded, listening to the rest of their reports. Somehow, the only trolls they had lost were her friends. Cooper, Satin and Chenille, Smidge, Guy Diamond, Creek, Biggie and Mr. Dinkles. She felt like the universe was telling her it was all her fault.

“What do we do now, Queen Poppy?” Harper asked, nervously. “What help did you get?”

Poppy opened her mouth to answer, but faltered. She didn't know what to do. Branch had said he wouldn't help. None of her other trolls knew the forest like he did. She didn't know how to tell the teenager that she hadn't gotten anyone.

“Me. She got me.” 

The queen looked up to find Branch walking down the nearby hill, a large pack strapped over his back. Underneath her calm and confident facade, she felt like crying in relief.

“I know this forest better than anyone,” he said. “Whether you like it or not, I’m going to help you guys hide from the bergens.”

The trolls looked over at Poppy uncertainly. “Your highness?” Harper asked.

The queen nodded. “I know many of you don’t know Branch very well, but he’s extraordinarily skilled in survival in the forest, and has spent many years living away from the village. I ask that you listen to him like you listen to me.”

She thought she saw a light flush on his face, but decided it must have been a trick of the light. 

“I will be venturing out to rescue the others,” she explained. “I will be back soon.”

The group immediately started protesting, but she stayed strong. “As queen, it is my responsibility to look after my people. All of them.”

The group merged back with the rest of the village, giving instructions and explanations. Some of the older trolls looked at Branch suspiciously, some of the trollings stared curiously. Poppy stood next to him and smiled reassuringly at them.

Once everyone was ready to start heading out, Poppy turned towards Bergentown and began walking.

“Mi viva!”

She paused at the call, turning to see her dad walking towards her. Branch seemed shocked to see him.

“Mi viva, where are you going?” He asked. “We have to prepare for your birthday!”

Poppy smiled, knowing full well her birthday had been two months prior. “I'm just picking up some party supplies, Dad,” she explained. “I'll be back soon.”

The former king relaxed. “Oh, okay,” he said. Dr Moonbloom came up and guided him back to the group.

She turned and smiled at the crowd. “Goodbye everyone!” She called. “I'll be back soon!”

A chorus of ‘good luck, Queen Poppy!!’ rang out from the crowd. She waved one more time before heading out into the forest. Distantly, she heard the chime of hugtime bracelets, and barely stayed on her path, instead of turning around to hug someone.

Even still, she kept walking, eyes straight ahead. She had some friends to save.

Chapter Text

Poppy slowly closed her eyes as she heard the tarantacapuffs creeping closer. She was wrapped in enough webs to immobilize her, and no help was coming. Her song hadn’t worked- all the critters were hostile, all the environments dangerous. It was just too much for one troll.

Alone in the cocoon, she felt her eyes water. Then, she was rapidly pulled away, and the chitters of the tarantacapuffs faded. She tensed as she heard a commotion she couldn’t see- most likely a different critter fighting to eat her.

Suddenly, light was piercing the webs, and she closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for the pain.

“ Poppy! ?”

That voice… she blinked her eyes open to find Branch standing above her, a shockbug in hand.

“Branch!” She cheered. “Perfect timing!” She stood unsteadily, trying to flick the remains of the webs away with her tail as she did. She didn’t see the tarantacapuffs anywhere, but it was never a good idea to be covered in their webs.

“Oh, like you knew I was coming,” he said, sarcastically. 

She blinked again, this time in surprise. “No? I mean, I figured you’d be busy finding a place for everyone to hide.” She froze. “They are hiding, right?!”

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I just brought them to my bunker. I figured you’d need more help.”

She thought back to the tiny room just below the surface of the earth that he had pulled her into. “Your… bunker?”

He winced. “It’s actually 10 stories,” he explained. “I put them on the fifth level, since there’s less breakables there.”

“Huh.” The queen blinked, and shook her head. “Well, if you’re here, then let’s go! We’re almost there!” She started walking, pushing through some twigs.

“Wait!” He protested. “Hold on, what’s your plan?” 

“Go to Bergentown, save my friends, and make it home safely!” She informed him. If she got too specific in her plan, she would end up spiraling about doing it perfectly, and then get frozen. It was better if she just had a basic idea, and then improvised as she went. No plan ever went perfectly, anyways.

He froze. “That’s not a plan, that’s a wishlist,” he snarked.

“Okay,” she said, genuinely. “Then what would you say a good plan is?”

He cleared his throat. “First, we get to the edge of Bergentown without being spotted. Then, we sneak in through the old escape tunnels, which will then lead us to the Troll Tree, right before we get caught and suffer a miserable death at the hands of a horrible, bloodthirsty Bergen!! ” He paused in his catastrophizing when he noticed Poppy had pulled something out of her hair. “Are you… scrapbooking my plan?” He asked.

She nodded. “One second…” She glued down one more thing. “And… done!” She said, showing off the page of them in the Troll Tree, a bergen towering over them. He wasn’t sure how he felt about her scrapbooking that. “Now I can remember it all!”

He sent her a look. “It was only like, four things. And one of them was getting caught.” 

She shrugged. “I wanted to make sure you knew I heard what you were saying. The escape tunnels are an excellent idea! Thank you for thinking of that!”

He rolled his eyes. “You don’t have to talk to me like I’m a child.”

She blinked, as if she hadn’t realized she had done that. “Oh, sorry. But let’s get going!”

—

Poppy hummed to herself as they walked over a downed tree. In front of her, Branch groaned tiredly.

“Do you have to sing?” He muttered.

She rolled her eyes, flipping down from her position. “I always sing when I have stuff to do,” she commented.

Her companion stopped, and turned to glare at her. “This isn't like having to set up a party or whatever else you do, this is serious. ”

She frowned in return. “I know that,” she declared. “I know life is serious at times, but I don't have to go through life pretending everything is.”

“Well, you sure do a good job of pretending everything is cupcakes and rainbows,” he muttered, stepping down from the tree trunk.

She glared at his retreating back, but continued on, no longer humming. He just didn't get it . Her people looked to her whenever things went bad- if she smiled, they knew everything was okay. She had to set a good example for the others. No one had time for crying, and it slowed everything down, anyways.

“So,” she spoke up, eventually. “I don't really see any other trolls with your coat color around town, did one of your parents-?”

“ It's none of your business,” he snapped, stopping short. She had to stop quickly too, in order to not run into him. “No, my parents dying did not turn me gray.”

He stormed off, only realizing a minute later his walk had become silent. He glanced back to find Poppy frozen in shock. He sighed. “What now? ”

“You- I thought you were born like that!” She unfroze, but began pacing instead. “I was going to ask if one of your parents had a similar color! Can anytroll turn gray?!”

“Yeah, if they feel enough overwhelming sadness, they can turn gray,” he said, flatly. “Did you really not know?” He asked, sarcastically. 

“No!” She answered genuinely. “Music!” She cursed. “I should have been making more of an effort to get you out of your home!”

He snorted. “No, you really shouldn't have.”

She crossed her arms, standing firmly. “Yes, I should have! Spending time with others is important when you're dealing with a lot of negativity!”

“Alright, so where's your support group?” He snapped in return. 

“I- I don't have one,” she stammered. “But that's different! I'm the Queen! I'm everyone else's support, I can't ask them to support me and still have them feel able to go to me the next time!”

Branch turned, studying her for a moment before shrugging and continuing to walk. “Yeah, hard pass on the ‘friends’ thing, anyways.”

Behind his back, out of sight, Poppy fumed to herself as she followed him closer to the root tunnels.

—

“We need to set up camp,” Branch spoke up, eventually.

“What? No, we have to keep going!” Poppy argued. “I'm all hyped up right now!”

He snorted. “Yeah, sure.” He set his pack down in a clearing. “Let's set up a campfire before it gets too dark.”

“But-”

“It's too dangerous to travel at night,” he stated. “You're no good to your people if you get snatched by a critter before we even get to Bergentown.”

In an effort to avoid another argument, Poppy conceded, grabbing some firewood from the nearby area. Somehow, that led to a different argument. 

She was placing the logs down in a good arrangement when Branch appeared over her shoulder. “You know, it doesn't have to be neat,” he commented, sardonically.

“I know,” she said. “But this log-cabin layout keeps the fire burning for longer with less interaction.”

“Or,” Branch snarked, “you can just throw them on a pile and let them burn?”

She frowned, and then shook her head. “I've already built the structure, might as well just light it so I can go set up my sleeping bag.”

“I already set it up,” he said, pulling a flint out of his hair. She glanced back in surprise to find he was telling the truth. 

“Oh,” she said. “Thanks.” She walked over, sitting down on top of her sleeping mat as she watched him start the fire. The sun was starting to dip below the horizon, and the shadows were starting to stretch across the ground.

In the remaining light, she pulled out a comb and began brushing out her hair. She winced as she brushed the ends, but was determined to get all the debris from the previous day out, and her hair neat again. As she finished, she held her hand up for a moment, feeling the shortened and sensitive ends. 

She was distracted by her stomach growling, and prepared to pull some dried fruit from her bag, until she realized Branch was cooking something. They ate in silence, and soon, it was dark- only the light of the fire brightening the area.

Poppy looked up at the dark sky and decided it was as good of a time as any to begin. It was getting too quiet for her, and music always helped fill the empty space loneliness left.

Stars shine bright upon you…

“Again with the singing?!” Branch snapped, sitting up on his own sleeping mat.

Poppy startled, but felt herself lowering back into a neutral expression. “Yes. It'll help us sleep-”

“I don't need a lullaby,” he snapped. “I'd prefer the sound of silence,” he said, sarcastically. He laid back down, turning away from her.

The queen blinked at the odd request, but shrugged, pulling out her ukulele. She plucked out the tune as she stood. Branch turned to face her and she smiled.

Hello darkness, my old friend

It was a strange song for most trolls, but Poppy, with the realization of what being gray meant , felt that was probably why Branch liked it.

She sang only the first verse and chorus, smiling at the critters swarming her. They weren't the type typically found in Troll Village, but they still sang along with her, which made her smile.

While her singing alone could not influence the plants as much as a whole group would, she was sure she had won the favor of some critters, who would alert them if something happened in the night. She smiled as she walked back to the campfire, unsure of what to make of Branch's expression, but smiling nonetheless.

He stood up from his own sleeping mat to meet her where she stood.

“May I?” He asked, gently reaching for her instrument.

She smiled softly, allowing him to hold it. Maybe the two of them together would help the plants nearby-

“ No!! ” Without thinking, she reached towards the fire the second her ukulele hit the flames. She was quickly pulled back, but not before her hands were burned.

She watched with tears in her eyes as the strings snapped with the heat and the neck collapsed. The designs painstakingly painted onto the side darkened and curled off the wood.

“Why did you do that?!” Branch scolded her, reaching out again and taking her burnt hands. She winced as the pain finally hit her. 

“I- I didn't want to lose it.” She remembered when she was little, sitting next to her dad as he taught her the chords and techniques. How the ukulele was carved with wood from the Troll Tree, hand-painted by someone before it was passed down to her.

“It's an instrument,” Branch snapped. “Just make a new one.”

Poppy was happy. Poppy was kind, patient, and always found a compromise during a disagreement. Poppy was running on barely any sleep, was in pain, and was missing everyone she cared about.

“ It was my dad's!!!” She roared at him. “ It was carved from the Troll Tree!! I can't just-!” She faltered at his shocked expression. She heard the scuttling of critters leaving the grove. 

She was Queen . She should be better than this .

“I'm sorry,” she whispered. “I shouldn't have yelled. I'll keep watch, now.”

She retreated to her sleeping bag, sitting down, facing away from him. Her hands shook, reminding her of the burns marring them.

She startled when a hand entered her vision. Branch paused, waiting for her to acknowledge him before he moved again. He was holding a container of burn cream and some bandages.

Slowly, she nodded, and he began dressing her wounds.

“I'm sorry,” he said, quietly. “I didn’t know.”

“It’s fine,” she said, even though it very much wasn’t. “I’m sorry I scared the critters away.”

He blinked at her, pausing in his process. “They disappeared once you stopped singing,” he stated. “Why would you want them to stick around?”

“...to alert us of any larger critters in the area?” She said, uncertainly. “They weren't visible, but they were still there until I…” She winced. “I know I don’t have clear evidence, but I’ve noticed trolls singing can make smaller critters want to help us, and can help plants grow thicker and stronger.” She frowned, averting her gaze. “I know it’s probably dumb, but…”

“...is that why you’re always singing?”

She shrugged. “I mean, sometimes it just feels nice.”

He finished wrapping her hands and released them. “I’ll keep watch,” he said. “Sleep will be good for your hands.”

Poppy wanted to argue, she really did, but she was tired. She nodded and laid down. Despite the pain in her hands, she fell asleep within a minute.

Chapter Text

The next morning, they packed up their camp in silence. Poppy redressed her burns, rebrushed her hair, and tucked her belongings away again. Branch put out the remains of the campfire and tucked away his own belongings, and then they were off. 

By mid-day, they had arrived at the end of the tunnel to find the whole area rotting, with multiple tunnels leading into the hill. 

“So, one of these tunnels leads to the Troll Tree? There’s so many of them,” Poppy commented, absently. “I wonder which one…”

Branch stepped up to the edge of one and ran his fingers along the opening. “I don’t know…”

“CHOOSE A HOLE WISELY” A strange voice interrupted them, causing the two to startle and look around. “FOR ONE WILL LEAD TO BERGENTOWN AND THE OTHERS… TO CERTAIN DEATH!! ”  

Branch tensed, looking around the dying grove. “Who said that?!” He demanded.

“IT WAS… me,” a cloud moved, revealing a being, shaped similarly to a cloud, standing on the edge of a tree. His voice suddenly lost its echo and drama with the revelation. “Hey guys, how’s it going?” He asked, conversationally. “Welcome to the root tunnels.” He strolled right up to them, ignoring Branch’s defensive manner. “Uh, I just wanted to warn you: one of these tunnels leads to the Troll Tree… the others? TO CERTAIN DEATH DEATH death…”

Poppy blinked in surprise. “Well, do you think you could tell us which one?”

“You bet.”

“Great-!”

“We’re fine, thanks,” Branch interrupted, getting between her and the cloud.

“Branch!” Poppy protested, quietly. “He’s trying to help us!”

Branch scowled. “I don’t like the looks of him,” he said. “I mean, who wears socks with no shoes?!” He turned to glare at the figure, who was picking his teeth with his finger. When he noticed them looking, he smiled and waved. 

“Huh,” Poppy muttered. “Those socks look like my dad’s.” She shook her head, clearing that thought, and turned back to her traveling companion. “He seems to know what he’s talking about,” she argued. “Branch, if we take the wrong tunnel, we could end up days out of the way.”

He scowled, before sighing. “Okay, fine. ” He turned to the cloud. “Which way do we go?”

“First: you have to give me a high-five, and then I’ll tell you,” the guy said.

“I can do it,” Poppy volunteered, stepping forwards. 

“No, you cannot!” Branch protested. “Your palms are burned!”

“But you hate physical contact!” She argued back. “I can stand it for a second to avoid certain death!”

“Yeah, Dumpy Diapers!” The cloud butted in. “Let Popstar do it!” 

The gray troll immediately whirled on him with a glare. “That’s Queen Poppy to you ,” he snapped. “ I’ll high-five you, and then you tell us where to go.”

The cloud shrugged. “I mean, I’m starting to feel you guys don’t like me, if you’re arguing over who has to high-five me.”

“But! You just said !” Poppy protested, desperately. 

“I know, but now I’m thinking it has to be you .” Poppy tensed minutely as he shrugged again. “I mean, I guess it just comes down to whether Popstar will put the comfort and safety of her people above her own health and wellness once again.” The Queen froze, making Branch tense even further. “So, what’ll it be, Princess Pink?” He smiled. “You know what?” The two looked at him in startled confusion. “I’ll just do it for you!” He grabbed Poppy’s arm, slapping his hand against her bandaged palm. 

Poppy shouted in pain, stumbling backwards in a panic as she pulled her hands up to her chest. 

The cloud laughed at the display. “Alright,” he said, turning to Branch. “Now, I want a hug.”

Instead of responding, Branch grabbed one of his stakes, pointing his weapon forwards, eyes narrowed at the cloud. 

The cloud’s expression shifted and he began to rain. 

He turned and ran, Branch following close behind, weapon in hand. 

“Branch!” Poppy called in a panic, seeing the cloud lead him into a tunnel. She chased after him as fast as she could. “Wait! Branch!”

She tried to track all the turns and hills they traveled around, so they could escape once she calmed the gray troll down, but found herself losing track as she frantically tried to keep Branch in her line of sight.

“Ta-da!!” She froze, almost running into Branch’s back as the cloud stopped short, turning towards them and smiling. He held his hands up in a presenting gesture. “You guys were a lot of fun,” he said, walking calmly past them. He poked at Branch’s stake as he passed, making him tense. “See you on the way back. Unless… YOU DIE DIE die…”

The two trolls froze, glancing around in confusion. 

“The Troll Tree,” Poppy breathed, looking around at the barren branches, stripped of all leaves or pods that had once been there. She tried to place where her family’s pod had been, but there was no trace of the life that used to be there.

“ Bergentown ,” Branch muttered, looking out past the tree towards the city surrounding it. 

The buildings were towering, all misshapen and metal. Neon signs proclaimed the names of different businesses, though none of them looked open. Walking on the stone streets were bergens- dozens of them. 

They were singing, but they were all flat, like they were being forced to sing and weren’t happy about it. They seemed to be inconveniencing each other in the strangest ways possible, but none of them seemed to care or become annoyed. They just kept going on, miserable.

“Woah,” Poppy said. “They’re totally miserable.” She frowned. “Which means… they haven’t eaten a troll yet!” She said, perking up. “Come on!” She commanded, excitedly. “Let’s go save my friends!”

Branch scrambled to follow her. “You can’t just walk down the street!” He protested. 

She turned in confusion. “Of course not,” she said. “I was going to climb the branches of the tree to reach the rooftops, and make my way over to the castle on those.”

“Oh,” he said, lamely. “I guess that’s a good idea.”

She snorted. “Yeah, I do have those every once in a while.”

He rolled his eyes in return. “Well, you make it really hard to believe, most of the time.”

Poppy walked her way up one of the branches, jumping onto a rooftop silently. The rest of their journey continued the same way, lest they get caught.

—

As they approached the castle, an issue became apparent: it was built on a tall hill, with no buildings of equal height around it. There were no more rooftops to jump to, leaving them stranded. 

“What do we do now?” Branch asked, in a whisper. 

Poppy turned to him. “Did you have any plans for this?” She asked, genuinely. She kind of hoped he would remember more of the terrain of Bergentown, since she was still a baby when they fled, and he probably would have at least been a toddler. Maybe he knew of a way the bergens used to enter the castle without using the stairs, or could suggest something from his time living in the forest.

Instead, he just glared at her. “My plans included us getting eaten an hour ago,” he grumbled. “So, I guess we’re going with your ‘wishlist.’” He crossed his arms over his chest, turning to look at the city.

She nodded, though, turning back to the castle. She studied the bergens going in and out, up and down the giant staircase. They just kept looking straight ahead, not up at their destination nor down at the steps they were walking on.

“I got it!” She cheered, quietly. “Instead of going over them, we’ll go under!”  

“You want to try to go underfoot ?” Branch whispered, incredulously. One stumbled, one wrong step, and they would be stepped on .

“No, look!” She pointed at the staircase, which the bergens were only walking on the top of. “We can walk along the side of the stairs, camouflaging against the stones just in case!”

“That’s not going to work,” he argued. 

She turned fully to face him. “No? Why not?”

Branch pointed at his hair, like it was obvious. Poppy glanced at it, but couldn’t figure out what he was trying to show her. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see closer, when he sighed. “I’m gray ,” he ground out. “I can’t camouflage.”

She blinked in surprise, but quickly turned it into a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I can cover both of us, then!” She explained. “We just need to drop into this back alley and climb to the other side of that wall!”

“Wait!” He interrupted. “Are you sure your hair is thick enough?”

“It seems so, since that was how I hid me and my dad when the bergen attacked the party,” she answered. “Come on.” She jumped down, hiding behind a very smelly barrel, until Branch came and joined her. She didn’t see the bewildered look he sent her, nor the glare he sent to the strange barrel.

Using her hair as a cover, they made it up to the castle, and in through an upper window. They were walking along a shelf when two guards started approaching, and they hid in a sconce on the wall. To match the other sconces, Poppy flared her hair in a steady fire. Her scalp itched from the continued use of her cut hair, but her friends were more important. Besides, it wasn’t like they had many other options to hide them at the moment.

She listened to the bergens greet each other beneath them, before continuing down the hallway. She waited until their footsteps were inaudible before retracting her hair, letting it settle back to its natural style. It still didn’t sit quite right, but she could deal with it.

Branch jumped back out onto the shelves lining the hallway, waiting for her before continuing on their path.

“So, where do you think my friends are?” Poppy muttered, half to herself. 

“If I had to guess?” Branch answered, just as quietly. “Being digested in a bergen’s stomach.”

“Couldn’t you try to be more positive?” She grumbled. She already had to look at the numerous paintings depicting bergen families happily eating her people, she didn’t want to have to hear about it, too.

“Okay,” he responded. “I’m sure they’re not only alive , but about to be delivered to us on a silver platter!”

Poppy felt her shoulders lose a bit of tension. “Thank you,” she replied, gratefully. Plans were more likely to succeed if the people accomplishing them believed in the right outcomes. She turned to look down the hallways again, missing Branch’s incredulous expression.

As she looked, though, her hugtime bracelet chimed. “Branch!” She exclaimed, quickly quieting it.

“That wasn’t my-!”

“Shush!”

Her ears perked, swiveling around as she caught the same familiar tones of hugtime bracelets from around the corner. With a more solid direction, she ventured forth once again.

Branch shot her a confused look, but followed. 

The shelves stopped before a grand doorway, which was closed. She could hear commotion inside, though, and knew that was where her friends were being held. She glanced around, eyes landing on a vent in the ceiling. She pointed it out to Branch, who nodded.

Her tail balanced her as she sprung for the vent, grasping the edges with her hands. That, she learned immediately, was a mistake. She let out a squeak of pain, and found herself being quickly grabbed and lifted fully into the vent.

“What was that?!” Branch demanded, from where he had jumped, and then pulled her, up to.

She winced. “I… forgot about my hands.” She held them up in front of her own face, but found no blood on the bandages. 

“Be more careful next time,” he muttered, turning and facing the direction they needed to go in.

She nodded, slowly getting to her feet. “Let’s go,” she said, determinedly. “We’re almost there.”

Chapter Text

The room turned out to be a dining room, with tables and chairs lining the hall. Bergen guards walked around, fixing the lights and arranging things to look more presentable. 

Poppy and Branch dropped down into one of the light fixtures, using the bulky sculpture to hide from the numerous bergens below them. 

She surveyed the scene below her, eventually finding a cage being pushed by a smaller bergen in pink clothes, following behind the bergen who attacked the village and who must have been the king. “There they are!” She pointed out, in a whisper. Inside the cage, her friends were all huddled together in terror. “They’re alive!” She cheered. “And, they’re on a silver platter! We were both right!” 

Branch sent her a look, before realizing something. Poppy was a baby when they fled the bergens- she might not even know what the silver platter meant . He stared at her as her gaze stayed focused on the cage.

“And look , your highness!” Chef bragged. “I found your old troll bib!”

The king smiled, happily. “I wonder if it still fits!” He tried, but it was very clear he was larger than he had been as a toddler. The string snapped, most likely disintegrated from the years in storage, and the bib fell off.

The small bergen gasped, quietly, but Cooper laughed loudly. The others shushed him, but it was too late.

The bergen king turned to them with a glare. “Oh, you think that’s funny?!” He spat. “Just wait until I bite your head off!” Cooper tensed, backing away from the threat. “Till I bite all your heads off!” He pointed out each of the trolls, but paused in the process. They were all trying to hide in the back of the cage, but there wasn’t anywhere for them to go. “Wait, Chef, this isn’t enough heads to feed all of Bergentown. I promised everyone a troll.”

“No, no, no! Your highness!” She placated. “There’s plenty more where those came from!”

Up in the chandelier, Poppy tensed, glancing at Branch. He tried to send her a reassuring glance, but she could see that he was terrified as well. His bunker wasn’t very far from the village, from the perspective of a giant- it would be easier to find than if he had stayed and guided them into the forest like she had asked him to. 

“Are you sure?” The king asked, skeptically. “Because Trollstice is tonight .” 

“Not to worry, sire,” Chef placated. “If I were truly worried, would I be willing to do this ?” She opened the cage door and reached inside.

Everyone was crowded together in the back, but in a split-second movement, Smidge was bumped into, and she fell over, leaving Creek as the troll in the chef’s immediate path. He was picked up and lifted out of the cage, Smidge’s hair ruffled as he was taken.

“Creek!” Poppy exclaimed, in a panic. 

Branch pulled her down, out of sight, just in time. Chef paused, glancing suspiciously up at the chandelier where they were hiding, but shrugged the sound away as the king began to express his excitement.

Branch tried to keep her hidden, but Poppy brushed him off. She had to see .

She watched the king pulling out excuses for not eating Creek. It seemed to Poppy that her friend was spared, at least for the time being, but then, Chef shoved him into his mouth.

She nearly gasped, but held herself quiet, tears forming in her eyes as she refused to look away. She watched the king be pushed and spun around, disappearing out of a side door. 

“We have to save him!” She pleaded. She went to move, but Branch grabbed her arm and forced her back. 

“Save him from what - his stomach ?!” He protested. 

“He didn’t chew or swallow!” She argued back, in a desperate whisper. 

Branch looked into her eyes, seeing the barely held-back tears. “Poppy, it’s too late for him,” he said, softly. She had never grown used to the grief like he had. She had never learned that chasing after someone who was grabbed would only get you grabbed too. He both loved and despised that fact about her.

She didn’t take his comfort, though, and turned past the door the king and chef had just left from. She eyed the small Bergen pushing the cart with her other friends out the door, into the hallway they had just come in from.

“Wait here,” she commanded, jumping down from the chandelier. “I’ll bring them back once they’re safe.”

“Poppy!” Branch whisper-yelled, reaching for her. He missed, though.

She slid down the ladder that had been set up to change the lights in the room, jumping off and onto the table. She calculated her trajectory exactly, and surfed a spoon down the length of the table. She stayed under the cups and bowls, as the Bergens in the room seemed as interesting in looking down as the ones outside. Once she reached the edge of the table, she pushed off, latching onto the maid’s apron ties. 

She winced at the pain in her hands, and quickly transitioned her grip into her feet and tail. She had just settled when someone joined her, on the other loop. She glanced over and saw Branch. She narrowed her eyes at him, but said nothing. They couldn’t get caught while she’s this close to freeing her friends. 

The maid took the cart with her friends to the top of a staircase, before pausing to lift the cage off of the cart. Then, they descended a very tall, very thin staircase. At one point, the shaking caused her to almost slip from her perch, but she found a dark lasso of hair grabbing onto her and helping her stay on.

At the bottom of the staircase was a single room, which the Bergen entered. The two trolls quickly hopped down, ducking behind a piece of furniture as they prepared to sneak around the room to free her friends. 

To Poppy’s surprise, it was mostly a storage room, with random broken junk. It wasn’t a dungeon or anything like that. In fact, over to one side, tucked away, was a bed with pink bedding. The blankets were dingy and falling apart, but still carefully laid on the bed, and neatly arranged. Above it was something covered with an elegant red curtain, similar to ones decorating windows on upper stories of the castle.

The small bergen placed the cage down gently on a side table, walking back out to the middle of the room. There was a rumble, and dirty dishes fell from a chute above her head, hitting her more than a few times. 

“Scullery maid!!” The chef called, mockingly. “Scrub these pots and pans for Trollstice!” She ordered. “The king’s inviting everyone !” At this, the girl looked up, a touch of excitement growing on her face. “Except you .” 

The chef spoke with such distaste in her tone, Poppy felt bad for the poor girl. Bergens seemed to be making each other miserable all the time, though they never seemed to notice it either.

In contrast to those outside, though, the small bergen began crying, stepping her way through the dirty dishware to throw herself onto the small bed in the corner. After she cried for a while, she sighed, heavily, and reached down into the nightstand next to her bed. Out of it, she pulled a magazine page containing the king and a dented pair of scissors. 

I’ve been alone with you inside my mind…

The two trolls watched in confusion as she sang the love song, her voice unpracticed but beautiful. As she sang, she carefully crafted the image of the king onto the collage of images behind the red curtain. Despite the dented scissors, she cut smooth, precise lines around each picture. Poppy wondered what she would do with a decent pair of scissors.

After she finished singing, the bergen laid down, falling asleep instantly, despite the tears still running down her face. 

“Aww,” Poppy whispered, with pity lacing her tone. “She’s in love with the king.”

“ What are you talking about?!” Branch whispered furiously in return. “Bergens don’t have feelings!”

“Well, maybe they do!” She argued. Even still, she eyed the sleeping giant as they crept around the room, towards where her friends were being kept.

Using her hair and Branch’s help, she managed to make her way up without hurting her hands further. Once on top of the cabinet, they checked that the bergen was still asleep, before pulling the cloth covering off of the cage. 

She melted in relief when she saw all her other friends were okay.

“ Queen Poppy!! ” They cheered. They opened their mouths to break into chorus when Branch frantically shushed them. 

With confused glances, they sung the chorus of Celebration in a whisper. She almost followed them, but Branch sighed, grabbing Poppy’s scissors from her hair. 

“No! Now is not the time for celebration!” Branch scolded, messing with the lock.

Poppy looked on in confusion until the lock clicked open. She was giddy, up until Branch handed her back her scissors, which were broken beyond belief. She rolled her eyes, before throwing them away, turning to her friends as the door opened. 

“Great!” She whispered, excitedly. “Now, Branch can take you all home, while I go rescue Creek!”

“ WHAT?!” Branch burst out. Behind him, the others froze. 

“Hello?” The bergen sat up, making them all panic. She swayed, laying back down on her side. “...is it me… you’re looking for…” She sang, as she drifted back to sleep.

The trolls stayed still for a moment, making sure she wouldn’t wake up again, before Branch lifted the lock and opened the door. 

“Face it Poppy,” he growled. “Creek is gone .”

The others started leaving the cage, helping each other down, all quiet and scared. They all nodded in agreement, though, at Branch’s words.

“They put him in a taco, ” Cooper said, in a frightened whisper. All four of his legs were shaking, his head hunkered low in his fear.

“We all saw it,” Smidge agreed. The small troll looked down, fists clenched in anger. She had been in front of him when he had been grabbed. If she was a little faster-

Guy stepped out from the cage, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry, Queen Poppy,” he said. “But Creek’s gone.” All the autotune was gone from his voice, reflecting his genuineness. 

She frowned, shrugging her shoulder away from Guy’s hand, turning away from them. 

Branch groaned. “ How can you still think he’s alive?!”

“I don’t think ,” she snapped. “I hope , because that’s all I can do right now.” Her friends nodded behind her, empowered by her determination. It was not hopeless until everyone was already dead. Unless she was already dead. 

A ruined party? Repurposed. An argument? Just needs a mediated discussion. There was nothing Poppy wouldn’t do to fix issues with her people. Every mistake was just an opportunity to change, and it was never too late to fix something.

“How do you always look on the bright side?!” He snapped in return. “There is no brightside!”

“There is always a bright side!”

They were suddenly bathed in bright light. “ HEY!!”

Chapter Text

“Scatter!” Poppy yelled, ducking to the side as the bergen reached for them. 

It seemed Branch’s outburst had woken her, and she had caught them in the act of escaping. She reached a slow hand, trying to catch one of them, but she was too slow. 

Poppy rushed towards the bergen’s bed, hiding her pink body in the pink fabric on top of it. She watched as the girl didn’t notice her, instead chasing around her friends as they ducked in and out of random items stored in the back of the room. She stood, calculating, and realized something.

The bergen didn’t sound angry, she sounded… scared? 

Poppy frowned, consideringly, glancing up at the red curtain. Silently, she made her way up, peeking behind the curtain again. In the bottom were little hearts around words reading “Bridget + Gristle.” She glanced up again at the girl, and found her squaring off against Branch, who was holding a utensil like a weapon.

“Bridget, stop!!” She yelled, in her most scolding tone (perfected over years of scolding troublesome trollings.)

Her guess correct, the bergen froze, turning desperately towards the queen, where she was standing proudly on the shelf. (Her eyes drawn away from Poppy’s friends.)

“You’re in love with King Gristle!” 

She noticed, out of the corner of her eye, that Branch began sprinting towards her. She had hoped he would use the distraction to help the others escape, but she couldn’t take her eyes off of the bergen to tell him that.

The bergen, though, immediately drew in on herself, dropping the pan she had grabbed to use as a weapon. “I- I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, shifting nervously on her feet. It was a stark contrast to the stories Poppy had been told of bergens, as well as the girl’s own behavior seconds before.

Without looking behind her, Poppy grabbed the edge of the curtain, throwing it open, putting all of the crafted images of the king on display, forcing her secret out for all to see.

In a quick movement (quicker than she had moved to try to catch them) the bergen rushed forwards, jumping onto her bed and up to where Poppy was standing, rushing to slam the curtains closed. “I- those aren’t mine!” She protested, desperately.

Even within grabbing range, she didn’t reach for the queen. She didn’t even look like she considered the opportunity right in front of her.

Poppy took a chance, lifting the edge of the curtain with her tail to reveal a crafted photo of two models with Bridget and Gristle’s faces pasted over top of them. There was no denying the truth anymore.

The bergen in front of her wilted. “It’s not like he’ll ever notice me, anyways.”

The Pop Queen looked at the sad girl, who was in close contact with the king regularly, but never noticed. “What if there was a way to get what we both want?” Poppy suggested, her tone conveying the gears turning in her head as she came up with a new plan on the fly.

Bridget rushed forwards, her eyes desperate. “You love King Gristle too?!” She said, in a panic. “You better…” she struggled to come up with something to say. “Back off… my man,” she looked at Poppy, nervously, and hissed.

The queen raised a singular eyebrow, her tail flat on the ground. “Bridget, no,” she said, frankly. “That troll that King Gristle put in his mouth?” The bergen nodded. “That's Creek, and I would do anything to get him back. The only problem is- we can't get close to King Gristle and ask him.” Bridget nodded again, understanding what she was implying. “But you can! You can go right up to the king and tell him how you feel!”

The girl grew excited, but quickly faltered. “As if,” she scoffed. “I can't just walk up to the king, his royal awesomeness would never talk to a scullery maid like me.” She frowned, dejectedly looking down at herself.

“What if… he didn't know you were a scullery maid,” Poppy said, brainstorming out loud. “What if he thought you were some mysterious stranger?”

Bridget sent her a confused look. “A mysterious stranger in this outfit? ” She questioned, pulling at her dingy and stained maid skirt.

Poppy smiled politely at her. “We can get a new outfit for you,” she suggested. She looked at where her friends had approached.

“I'm thinking-”

“Jumpsuit!” Satin and Chenille said, together.

The bergen eyed them curiously. “What good is a jumping suit if I still have my same hair?” 

Poppy waved her off. “We've got that, too. I don’t know if you've noticed, but hair is our thing ,” she said, lightly. The others cheered from down below. 

“What's the point of a new outfit and new hair…” she questioned, nervously. “If I don't even know what to say?”

“We can help with that too!” Poppy said, thinking back to all the couples who had come to her for relationship help back in the village. “So, what do you say?”

Bridget debated in her head for a second, before looking tentatively up at the queen. “Let's do it?”

“All right!” The queen cheered, happily. “5, 6, 7, 8!” At her count, the others broke into song, preparing various make-up items and accessories to dress the bergen up with. 

Nail polish and lipstick colors were chosen and coordinated, and fabric for her new outfit were scrounged from the piles of garbage in the back of the room. Satin and Chenille were getting some shoes together when-

“WAIT!!”

The trolls all paused, looking at the bergen girl. She pointed at Branch, who stood against the wall with his arms crossed. He startled at the attention. “Why isn’t he singing?”

He scoffed. “No, thanks.”

“You don’t think it’ll work?” She asked, tears filling her eyes at her anxiety. 

“It’s not that!” Branch tried to defend. “I just don’t sing.”

“What?” Poppy said, startled. “No, Bridget-”

“No, he’s right!” She said, eyes filling with tears. “King Gristle will never love me!! ”

The other trolls, cowed by the sign of tears, immediately rushed to reassure her. 

Poppy sent a pleading look to Branch, silently asking for him to sing just that once. Instead, though, he scoffed, climbing the curtain next to the collage.

She narrowed her eyes, following his path up the curtain. She slung her hair out, catching it around the curtain rod and pulled herself up, landing delicately in front of him as he climbed up to the windowsill.

“Branch,” she said, scoldingly. “You need to sing.” He scoffed, waving her off. Her glare grew. “Don't make me decree it.”

“Oh no,” he said, sarcastically. “When have I ever listened to one of those?”

“Then just sing,” she pleaded. “It's the only way to save my people-”

“The last time I sang, my grandma got killed!” He burst out. Poppy recoiled in surprise, and he deflated. “Just- leave me alone.”

He walked away, sitting on the corner of the windowsill, looking out at the bustling, but miserable, town. 

He became aware of a pink figure approaching him. “I don't know if you've noticed,” Poppy said. “But my royal policy is ‘No Troll Left Behind.’” She knelt down to be eye-level with him. “That includes you .”

“I'm sure someone already told you what I did,” he scoffed, avoiding her gaze once again.

“No,” she said, softly. “No one told me your story yet. Would you like to?”

He glanced out, back at the decrepit tree in the middle of town. He gathered his thoughts for a moment before speaking. “It was before the escape,” he said. “I was outside with my grandma as she did laundry, and I was practicing my singing.” He almost smiled at the memory, before his face fell again. “I didn't notice I was singing so loud, I attracted the attention of a bergen.” He shuddered, wrapping his arms around himself. “I didn't hear my grandma's warnings, and she pushed me out of the way- taking my place.” He ground his palms into his eyes. “If I hadn't been so selfish , singing out in the open-”

“Branch,” Poppy interrupted, softly. “That wasn't your fault.”

“But, I-”

“ No .” She stated, firmly. “It wasn’t. Branch, you were a trolling . The only one at fault is the bergen who took your grandma.”

He shrugged, noncommittally.

“Branch, is it okay if I hug you?” She spoke up.

He blinked in confusion, checking her wristband. “It's not hugtime yet?”

She nodded. “I know, you just really seem like you need one.” She opened her arms to him, and he froze for a second, before leaning into her embrace.

It lasted in silence, but was broken when he heard cooing next to him. His gaze shot up to find the rest of the group standing on the bergen's hand, looking at the two of them. The bergen herself was also watching. 

He flushed, stepping away quickly from the queen. “I'll help!” He conceded, just as quickly. “But no singing!”

Poppy smiled softly as she stood, before turning to her friends. “Alright!” She cheered. “Hair we go!”

Bridget lowered her hand in confusion as the trolls eagerly jumped off, returning to the tasks they had started earlier.

Branch sighed, before jumping down as well, helping Satin and Chenille with the outfit and shoes.

Poppy looked at it all, proudly.

“Umm… Miss?” Bridget said, drawing her attention. She looked up with an open and welcoming expression. “When you said your ‘royal policy..?’”

“My name is Poppy,” she explained, softly. She saw a glimmer of understanding sparking in Bridget's eyes. “I'm the Queen of Pop Village.”

The bergen gasped, immediately lowering her head. “Your highness!” She said, in a rush. “I'm terribly sorry for disrespecting you-!”

“Hey, hey,” Poppy said, placing her little paws on the girl's head. “It's okay.”

“...it is?”

“Bridget, you had no way of knowing who I was until I introduced myself,” she said, reassuringly, before her smile turned mischievous. “Besides, you'll have to get used to addressing royalty informally if you're going to go on a date with the King of Bergentown.”

The girl squeaked, covering her face in embarrassment, which messed up the coat of nail polish Cooper had been trying to apply. She was quick to apologize, lowering her fingers back down, despite her inflamed face. The troll just shrugged, before going back to his task.

“You really think this'll work, your highness?” Bridget asked, nervously. 

Poppy smiled at her. “I don't just think it'll work-” she corrected. “-I know it'll work.”

Bridget blushed again, lighting her whole face in pink. She averted her gaze, searching for a change in topic. “How'd someone as important as a queen end up in Bergentown?” She asked, before faltering. “Not that I'm questioning your actions!” She blurted out, anxiously. “I'm sure a queen has thoughts and motivations beyond my comprehension-!”

“Bridget-” Poppy interrupted softly. “-it's okay. I'm not upset.” She sat down, her tail wrapping around her waist. “I know I have a responsibility to lead my people, but I also have to protect them.” She looked down at the trolls running around the small bedroom. “ All of them.”

“Is that why you're so determined to get that troll back?” 

“Creek?” Poppy confirmed, quietly. Bridget nodded. “Yeah. He's one of my friends, too.”

“So, he's not your boyfriend or anything?” Bridget looked… sad?

Poppy tilted her head. “No? I haven't really had time to date.” She shrugged. “Besides, Creek is one of my closest friends, but I could never imagine dating him- I just-” She frowned. “I don’t know, it never really appealed to me.”

The bergen frowned. “What if… I tell King Gristle how I feel, and he doesn’t feel the same way?”

“I don’t know,” Poppy admitted, quietly. “But I know that you’ll never know how he feels until you tell him how you feel.”

“...and what happens then?” Bridget asked nervously. “We bergens don’t really… talk about love… or feelings.”

“Well, if he doesn’t share your feelings,” Poppy explained. “Then… you kinda hurt for a bit. You feel sad, and you almost grieve what could have been.” Bridget faltered, looking like she regreted agreeing to the date. “But… you get over it, and it stops eating you from the inside. You get to move on, living your life knowing it wasn’t meant to be. You can find a new love, a new purpose, but you’re free.”

“...and if he does share my feelings?” The girl asked, nervously. 

Poppy smiled. “Well, that’s the fun part. You get to be free, and you move on with your lives together, finding your purpose with someone by your side.”

Bridget let out a small smile. “That sounds nice,” she agreed, shyly.

The queen nodded, face alight with her own soft smile. “It sure does.”

The two were unaware of the dark gray troll below them, listening to the queen’s speech with a heavy heart.

Chapter Text

When the twins called Bridget over to have her try on the jumpsuit, Poppy took the opportunity to slip away. She trusted Branch to defend them should anything happen, and she trusted her friends to keep going without her physically there.

She just… needed a moment.

Quietly, she ducked behind some of the items stored in the back of the old bedroom, allowing the piles of junk to hide her bright-pink-ness. Out of sight, her hands began to tremble. She wrapped her tail around her waist, seeking some sort of comfort, as she reached into her hair.

The last of the bandages and ointment Branch gave her were settled, gently, on the ground as she unwrapped the old bandages.

The skin was raw, and it felt like her hands were still hovering over that fire, watching her ukulele burn. Slowly, she massaged in the burn lotion, biting back hisses as it went into cracks in her skin- wounds from the day leading up to that. From the vent, from climbing the walls of the castle, from Bridget's apron.

She felt like a liar, saying that stuff to Bridget. With herself and her culture in mind, she knew the plan would definitely work. These bergens, though, were different.

The king was surrounded only by bergen guards- those ordered to serve him in any manner requested. To protect him.

Poppy felt a little bewildered. What type of royal wasn't constantly out there, trying to improve the lives of their people? What type of royal made themself unapproachable?

She tried not to judge, but it was so different from how she was taught, and it didn't seem to be working. Yes, bergens couldn't be happy, but that didn't mean they had to be miserable . The city smelled horrid, the infrastructure was crumbling, and no one made any effort to change it.

So, no. She didn't know if the plan would work. She just had to hope it could, and convince herself that was the same thing.

Carefully, once the lotion was applied, she rewrapped her hands, which was made difficult by the shaking and pain in both of them.

She hated lying. She could skirt around the truth, be a part of a ‘lie-of-omission,’ or even sometimes pull a white lie for her people's safety… but she hated it. She hated that she had to lie to her dad, to keep him from getting sad or angry in his already confused state. She hated that she now had to lie to Bridget in order to try to protect her people. 

And the heartbreak talk? Who was she kidding? Poppy had been avoiding telling the truth about her crush for almost a full year. 

Avoiding touching her newly-bandaged hands, Poppy leaned forwards, pressing her face into her knees, curling in on herself. 

She hated that Branch had come with her on this suicide mission, putting himself in danger (no matter how glad she was, secretly, that he was there to help). She hated that she left her friends alone with a bergen. She hated that they were close to a bergen to begin with. She just kept putting others in danger.

Slowly, though, she forced herself to uncurl- her tail to lay flat, her ears to perk up, her body to stand tall. She breathed in deep, measured breaths, before slipping back out into the fray. 

She didn't have time to be sad. She had a friend to save.

—

The wig fell together nicely. It was long and rainbow, and high enough to hide the trolls without completely distorting the shape of Bridget’s face. Satin and Chenille, unable to disconnect their hair, used their hair to wrap around the back of her head, adding an accent to the otherwise unstyled hair.

With that and the jumpsuit they made, the bergen was unrecognizable.

She wobbled on her new heels, uncertainly looking around the city, which looked away from their straight forward gazes to stare at her.

Some of them seemed offended that she had pulled them from their misery, which was at least not apathy. Bridget wilted under their stares, until a piece of hair fell in front of her eye. When she went to move it, it curled, almost imperceptively, against her finger. 

Right, she reminded herself. She had a queen on her side.

She thought back to the small, pink being, and straightened her back, tilting her chin upwards, and walked steadier, using her as inspiration.

She heard the trolls quietly singing on her head, and decided she deserved to join in.

As she went around the town, singing and dancing, bergens stopped to stare- no longer apathy or even offense, but awe . It made Bridget feel like she was walking on air.

A noise made her glance down, and she realized she was actually walking on a gatordog. The king's gator dog.

She quickly stepped down, tossing the sandwich she didn't realize was in her hand to him. Barnabus happily took the treat and settled back down, making her sigh in relief.

If he was here, though… 

She glanced inside the closest shop- a bib shop- and saw the king.

“Oh, he's so beautiful,” she said, dreamily.

“And so are you!” A sweet voice said from right next to her ear.

Bridget tensed. “Oh, I don’t know, your highness…”

“Bridget,” Poppy said, quietly. “It’s going to be okay. Just go in and talk to him.”

“You’ll tell me what to say?” She asked, nervously.

“Of course I will,” the Pop Queen said, her tail brushing the bergen’s ear comfortingly.

Bridget twitched. “Please don’t do that,” she asked, quietly. It tickled, and she didn’t want to start giggling uncontrollably in front of the king.

“Right!”

—

“Oh, your majesty! You’re such a big big boy!” The bib maker said.

“I think you look phat.”

Gristle turned in anger at the comment, eyes narrowed at Bridget. Similarly, Branch shot Poppy and incredulous look, and she realized the bergens might not have the same slang. 

“‘P-H phat,’” She directed for Bridget to repeat. “Then strike that pose!”

Bridget followed easily, additionally making a sexy face at the king. 

It seemed it paid off, as the king just about floated over to her. “Total honesty from a total babe,” he said, adoringly. “And what might your name be?”

Both girls balked, realizing they had forgotten that part of being a stranger. 

“Your name is…” Poppy turned to look at her friends pleadingly.

“Lady?” Guy suggested.

“Glitter?” Biggie suggested.

“SPARKLES!” Smidge suggested.

“ Seriously!? ” Branch whisper-yelled at them, incredulously.

“My name is Lady Glittersparkles,” Bridget said, without hesitation. “Seriously.”

Gristle narrowed his eyes in confusion before shrugging and bowing to her. “Well, Lady Glittersparkles -” he said, voice sultry. She giggled (unrelated to any hair brushing her ears). “Would you like to join me at Captain Starfunkle’s Roller Rink and Arcade?”

“ Would I..? ” Bridget asked in the same sultry tone, before pausing. “Would I?”

“Yes,” Poppy said, slowly. “You’d be delighted!”

“Yes,” Bridget repeated, nervous now that her crush was right in front of her. “You’d be delighted.”

Gristle blinked in surprise. “Oh, I guess I would.” He extended an arm out for her to take, which she took delicately. “Shall we?”

—

The bergen arcade was… something. 

Poppy looked at the empty building, something inside her curling. This place was special enough for the king to want to take a date there, but the only other bergen in there was behind the counter, staring listlessly at the blinking machines.

“Is the king the only one who’s eaten a troll before?” She whispered to Branch. “He seems to be at least excitable.”

“No?” Branch replied, confused. “Unless, you know, you count Creek.” Poppy sent him a glare, silently telling him to stop that train of thought.

“He was excited when we first arrived, too,” she pointed out, aggressively. “Did he eat someone before we left?”

“No, he didn’t,” Branch said, flatly. “You were going to be the first troll he ate.”

She froze. “Oh.”

“Didn’t your dad ever tell you?” He asked, skeptically.

She shrugged. “There’s a lot of things he didn’t tell me.”

Outside the wig, the bergens settled at a booth and were presented with a pizza and some game tokens. The bergen worker who gave them the items immediately went back to the counter, gaze never once straying from listless.

“Ooh, fancy,” Bridget said, in a whisper. “Good thing I brought my appetite.”

Gristle smiled at her, and the two of them both reached for a slice. The same slice. 

They locked eyes, frozen in the moment before Bridget smacked his hand and pulled the slice for herself.

Poppy tensed.

“You’re… fantastic!” The bergen king said, dreamily.

Bridget ignored him, devouring her pizza.

“Bridget!” Poppy urged. “Compliment him back!”

She lifted her head from the slice, sending a sultry look at her companion. “I like your back.”

“No, Bridget, I mean say something you like about him!”

“But I do like his back?”

Across the table, Gristle froze, slice halfway to his mouth. “What?”

“Uh…”

“Poppy!” Branch urged. “Help her out!”

“...your eyes,” Poppy tried. Bridget repeated that, but when the troll went to continue the compliment, she froze. She didn’t know what to say about his eyes.

“Your hair,” DJ Suki tried, but she faltered after that as well. Bridget still repeated her desperately.

“Your nails!” Smidge suggested.

“Your ears!”

“Your nose!”

“Your teeEeEth,” Guy said, autotune warping his voice. 

Bridget, desperate to not ruin the date, repeated it just as he said it.

“Are you making fun of me?!” Gristle said, standing from the table in anger.

“Your eyes! They’re like two pools-” Gristle stopped and looked back, and Poppy found herself doing the same. Branch sat on the other side of Bridget’s head, feeding her lines. “-so deep, I fear that if I dive in, I might never come up for air.”

The bergen king relaxed, blushing slightly as he settled back into the booth.

“And your smile…” Branch continued for Bridget to repeat. “The sun itself turns jealous, and refuses to come out from behind the clouds, knowing it cannot shine half as bright.” His gaze strayed as he spoke, and Poppy found herself looking into his eyes. 

“I do have a nice smile, don't I?” Gristle said, sheepishly.

“Yes,” Branch told Poppy. “You do.” 

As if only then realizing what he had just said to her, he flushed, turning away.

Poppy, on the other hand, was glad she had practice keeping her expression neutral from years of teaching small children. That, and she was glad he turned away first, because it would have been very embarrassing for the queen to turn away from a flirtatious remark like a little trolling.

Her place in the front of the wig managed to hide her bright-bright pink face from the others, and she carefully kept her ears and tail from reacting.

Her smile was the norm, the expected from her. It was nice because it calmed trolls down. It was diplomatic and professional. It was useful.

It had never been described that beautifully before.

She purposefully shifted her attention back to the interaction in front of her.

“I can't believe I'm going to say this,” Bridget said, without any prompting from the trolls on her head. (Biggie began panicking, while the others stared in confusion.) “But… being here with you tonight… has shown me that…” She ducked her head nervously, before looking the king straight in the eyes. “True happiness is possible.”

Within the wig, Poppy had to hold back a gasp. Maybe it wasn't that they couldn't be happy, but that bergens didn't know how .

“True happiness is a lot closer than you'd think,” Gristle said, agreeing with her. He brought his hand up to his chest. “It's right here .” 

Poppy thought he was indicating his heart, but no. He presented some sort of gem, which made up the clasp to his cloak. It seemed Bridget had the same thought.

“Oh… that's nice… I guess?”

Gristle smirked. “How about now?” He opened the clasp, revealing a purple troll with green hair.

Poppy covered her mouth to keep from gasping at seeing him alive, if a little disheveled. Even though she had been the one leading the charge, she still had a fear in the back of her mind that she would only find out he was already dead. Seeing Creek alive…

Bridget stared at the troll in awkward confusion, letting out a small noise that went ignored by the king. 

He shoved Creek back into his clasp in a quick movement, turning to face Bridget with a besotted expression. “So, tell me, my lady- will I be seeing you at the trollstice feast tomorrow?”

“Well, duh. I’ll be working.” The king’s face shifted into confusion.

“IT!!” Poppy corrected desperately, as Bridget rushed to repeat her. “Working it!”

“You know…” the bergen said, awkwardly standing from her seat. She struck a few poses. “Workin’ it…”

King Gristle laughed affectionately. “You sure will!” He agreed, following her out of the booth. “Since you’ll be there as my plus one.” Bridget’s face morphed in shock, mirroring the trolls hiding in her hair. “That is, of course,” Gristle rushed to correct, sensing he had made some sort of slight. “If you say yes?”

“ Yes! ” Bridget agreed, quickly.

“ Yes !” Poppy cheered, her friends following suit.

“In the meantime,” he said, straightening out his shirt. “Would you want to go skating with me?”

Bridget smiled and took his hand as the two of them walked over to the rental counter.

Poppy sat back as they chose their shoes, mentally grasping at everything that had happened over the short interaction. It had only been a few minutes since the pizza was placed in front of them, but it felt like an eternity.

Branch was still behind her, pretending like he hadn’t been looking at her. Her friends were still huddled together, scared despite the wig hiding them from view. They tried to be happy and hopeful, but she could tell there were other emotions hiding below the surface. 

…except Cooper. He just seemed happy to be there, no matter what was going on outside.

(Sometimes Poppy wished she had his truly relentless optimism, but then nothing would get done because she would probably believe everything would just magically fall into place. While it worked for him most of the time, it didn't seem to work for anyone else.)

She watched the bergen couple move, gliding around the rink and dancing with each other. It seemed odd to Poppy- not once did they skate up the walls or upside down. 

She was yanked out of her thoughts when Bridget spun rapidly, sending all of the trolls flying. Reflexively, Poppy reached out, grabbing someone's hand with one of her own and wrapping the other one in Bridget's hair to anchor them down. 

Satin and Chenille had managed to use their band of hair to snag most of the others, but even their grip was unsteady. A few of the group, including Branch and Cooper, who hadn't been able to join the wig, went flying, barely hanging on as a chain.

With a grunt, Poppy pulled them all back, everyone landing and remaking the wig just in the nick of time. The king didn't even seem to notice that the band of hair had gone from the back of Bridget's head to behind her bangs.

The troll in her arms deflated in relief, and she glanced down in shock to find herself holding Branch. Quickly, she set him down, realizing the state of her hands. 

He carefully took them in his own, as if to check them over, but Poppy shook her head, looking out towards King Gristle. They couldn't risk her being completely unable to use her hands, with how dangerous their situation was. Branch narrowed his eyes at her, but understood the message, stepping back to be on alert. 

It was barely a minute later when he got her attention, pointing out the Chef arriving at the rink and renting her own pair of skates. 

“Your majesty!” She called, skating over to the couple. Poppy held her hand out to her people, just like she did when they needed to wait for a predator to pass by. They all froze, the wig growing ever so slightly stiffer, and she desperately wished she could turn around and comfort them. Instead, she locked her eyes on the danger. “You look like you're having… fun?”

“Oh, I am!” Gristle said, cheerily. Poppy pursed her lips. “Meet the lovely Lady Glittersparkles!”

The Chef's attention turned to Bridget, and subsequently, them. “Hmm… you remind me of someone.” Poppy felt a hand at her back- Branch's- and a shock of black hair wrapped around her waist. She was sure he had done the same for her friends, too, as she felt faint trembling through the line.

It did its job, though, and the wig stayed steady.

“She's gonna be my plus one at dinner,” Gristle said, smoothly.

Chef blinked, and suddenly, the attention shifted away from them and back to him. “Oh that won't be a problem, your highness!” She said, delicately. “For a moment there, I thought you were changing the plan!”

“Nope!” He said, carelessly. “Put her place setting next to mine. I want her right by my side- hey !” Gristle faltered when he realized the girl was no longer beside him. “Lady Glittersparkles?” He rushed to the still swinging side door she had fled from, catching barely a glimpse of her bright hair in the distance. “Lady Glittersparkles!” She was gone, though, and he deflated, looking down.

With his lowered gaze, though, something caught his eye. Standing out in the bleakness of Bergentown was a bright yellow roller skate.

Gently, he picked it up, cradling it to his chest as he stared out in the direction she disappeared in. “I'll see you at the feast,” he promised.

Chapter Text

Bridget rolled into her room on her one remaining skate, making happy noises as she daydreamed about the date. She then stopped right next to her bed, and brought a hand up for the trolls to climb down onto. 

Carefully, she placed them on her shelf before slamming face-first into her bed. 

“I never believed something like that could ever happen to me, but it just did!!” She said, so excited it came out in a whisper, as if scared of waking herself from a dream. She turned to look at the trolls. “Thank you, Queen Poppy! And the rest of you! I'm so excited I could scream!!”

Instead, she flipped over, burying her face in her pillow to contain her squeal as her feet kicked behind her.

“I could scream too!” Poppy chimed in, excitedly. “Creek is alive!”

The rest of the group started celebrating as well. Overcome with joy, Poppy high-fived Smidge, but immediately regretted it.

She squeaked, pulling her hand back to herself quickly. Unfortunately, that caught the attention of the others, who stopped their own celebrations to look at her.

“Queen Poppy?” DJ Suki said, nervously.

“I'm fine!” She said, too quickly. Her tail wrapped around her ankle.

“Queen Poppy…” Biggie said, quietly. “What happened to your hands?”

“I thought it was just a very ugly fashion statement,” Chenille said. 

“And I thought it might have been for better grip during your journey,” Satin added, sending a look at her sister.

Forced to tell the truth, Poppy's ears drooped slightly. “It's not terrible- I just…” Behind her, Branch's ears dropped all the way down and his tail wrapped around his own ankle, as his gaze focused intensely on the floor. “I accidentally burned myself on the way here. Branch gave me burn lotion and bandages to help, but it still hurts a bit.”

The group, even Bridget, began to make noises of pity, circling around her. Smidge, though, stepped away from them, standing in front of Branch, who looked confused.

“Thanks, or whatever, for helping her. I guess you're kinda cool,” she said, gruffly, before turning around and joining the others.

Listlessly, Branch nodded to no one, confusion marring his features. While yes, that was true, she left out the fact that it was his fault she got burned in the first place. She could have easily thrown him under the critterbus- everyone already didn't like him, and it probably would have been better for her reputation to not be known as ‘so clumsy she gives herself debilitating injuries.’

“When I was skating,” Bridget said. “And you all went flying… did you hurt them catching everyone?”

“Well, not everyone… ” she said, sheepishly. “Satin and Chenille were able to catch some of the group.” She turned to them. “How did you stay on?”

The twins both reached into their hair and pulled out giant clips. “A good model never goes anywhere without bobby pins,” Satin said.

“A key element in preventing wardrobe malfunctions,” Chenille agreed. 

“Don’t distract them, Poppy,” Branch interrupted. “Are your hands okay?”

She winced. “They sting, but I don’t think I messed anything up.”

“Can I check?” He prodded.

She glanced at her friends, who were looking at her worriedly. “It’s fine- besides, Biggie passes out at the sight of blood, and we need to rescue Creek.” He narrowed his eyes. “I promise, we’ll do it right after we save him.”

He tensed, but relented.

“Come on,” she said. “Let’s go save Creek!” She jumped down, and the others were quick to follow. 

“Wait!” Bridget cried out, getting in front of them. “What about… Lady Glittersparkles?” She asked, hesitantly. “I need you in order to be the king’s plus one at dinner.”

Branch bristled. “The dinner where they’re planning to serve troll? ” He asked, rhetorically. “We’ll pass, thanks.”

“Bridget, you don’t want to be someone you’re not forever,” Poppy said, softly. 

The bergen glanced down, hesitantly. “Surely you can stick around for one more day, your highness?”

“Bridget?” Poppy said, quietly. “We need to go save him before it’s too late. I promise, you and King Gristle can make each other happy-”

“No, we can’t!” Bridget burst out. “Stop giving me hope! I’ll never be happy!” Tears burst in her eyes. Poppy faltered, but didn’t move. “Fine! Just go! ” Bridget cried, running to lay on her bed.

“Bridget!!” Chef yelled from above. “Clean this plate!!”

The plate fell, knocking her on the head. 

“Yes, Chef,” Bridget whispered, dissolving into tears.

Poppy felt her heart tearing in two directions. 

“Come on,” Branch said, pulling her shoulder. 

The queen spared one more glance back at the bergen, before turning and running towards where they should be able to find Creek.

—

Branch and Poppy led the others around the castle in the rafters. It was a little easier, since the sun had set a while ago, and fewer bergens were walking around. Even still, they crept very slowly and quietly.

They were at a junction between hallways when footsteps approached from both halls- in front of them as well as to their right. 

Branch pushed the group into the corner, standing in front and spreading his black hair out to hide them in the shadows. Behind him was Poppy, and behind her, her friends were tense with fear.

Below them, the bergen guards stopped at the intersection, right underneath them .

“Hey Todd,” one greeted, with more emotion than they had when Poppy and Branch were sneaking in.

“Hey Chad,” Todd greeted in return. “You ready for Trollstice?”

Chad shrugged, though the corners of his lips twitched upwards. “I… don’t know,” he admitted. “It doesn’t feel real quite yet.”

“We saw the trolls ourselves, man,” Todd reminded him. “...but, I agree. After so long, we get to be happy again?”

“I know, right?” Chad agreed. “It makes me feel… bubbly? And my mouth keeps trying to move, but it feels so weird.”

“And there’s this feeling, like I just have to move? Different from kicking someone.”

“I know!” Chad said, a smile growing on his face. “It almost feels like… happiness? Maybe just being around trolls can give you a small bit of it.”

“I can’t wait for tomorrow,” Todd agreed. “See you at the dinner?”

Chad nodded. “See you, man.”

As their footsteps disappeared down the halls, Poppy frowned. Sure, happiness was said to be contagious, but not like that . It was almost like the bergens were… feeling happy without eating trolls?

“Let’s go,” Branch hissed, retracting his hair. 

She startled, before following along. They headed up a set of stairs, finding one room at the very top of a tower.

Branch nudged the doorknob with his hair, and they all peeked inside.

The room was a bedroom, with an elegant bed piled with blankets to one side, and a small desk to another, and finally, there was a treadmill, which the king was running on. He was singing to himself as he ran, pausing only to take a drink from his water bottle. His singing was… an attempt… but with the music blasting from his headphones, he probably couldn’t hear himself, let alone anything else in the room. 

Branch took advantage of this and gestured everyone inside. The king’s cloak, along with the clasp holding Creek, was thrown on the bed carelessly. Poppy rushed up to him, crawling her way up the blankets, despite the sting in her hands.

Just short of the top, Branch grabbed her around the waist with his hair, pulling her up next to him. 

She ignored him, though, running to the clasp of the cloak. 

“Creek,” she whispered. “We’re here!”  

Branch grabbed one side and pulled, but it didn’t budge. “Maybe-”

Before he could formulate his thoughts, there was a growl above him. The whole group turned to see the king’s gatordog eyeing them.

“RUN!!” Poppy yelled to her friends, not hesitating to grab the clasp and run away with it, sliding down the other side of the bed with it. It hurt but she didn’t have time to stop.

“I’ve got you!” In seconds, Branch was next to her, taking half of the weight of the clasp. She didn’t have time to thank him before they were ducking under a lunge from the beast.

He struck the beast with his hair, giving them a moment before it charged again.

Poppy pulled them under the bed (which was disgusting) and just out of reach. The gatordog stuck his snout under, but it wasn’t able to grab them. 

“HEY!!” The gatordog thunked its head on the bed, trying to get up too quickly. When it emerged, though, it got glittered in the face, making it repel itself backwards and sneeze. In the brief moment, Smidge grabbed its back legs, flipping it onto its back for Satin and Chenille to throw a blanket over it to further confuse it.

“This way!” DJ Suki cried out to them all. All the trolls ran as fast as they could to the small three-wheeled bike sitting near the front of the room, which Cooper and Biggie were beginning to push out the door. 

As they were leaving, Poppy caught a glimpse of the roller skate Bridget had lost, placed in a spot of honor on the king’s vanity, right next to his crown.

The beast, in its flailing, knocked into the back of the vehicle, sending them flying down the hallway, all trolls thankfully onboard. On the seat, Poppy and Branch held tightly to Creek, despite the pain in her hands.

Suki stood on top of the handlebars, Satin on her left and Chenille on her right. Biggie and Cooper were on either back wheel, running to keep them going, Smidge on the front, doing the same, with an occasional shout of ‘cardio!’ On the very back, Guy stood, looking out behind them. 

“Satin! Chenille!” Poppy yelled. “Sharp right!”

The pink twin launched herself, grabbing hold of a sconce as an anchor, as her sister and Suki turned the vehicle from the handlebars. Between the three of them, the bike turned rapidly, rocketing down a side hall, and Satin came bouncing back.

“Queen Poppy!” Guy yelled. She glanced back to find the gatordog gaining on them. 

“GUY!” She commanded. “Glitter him!”

The gatordog fell behind, blinded by the glitter, as Poppy watched.

“POPPY!” Branch yelled. Her head whipped around, and found that while watching the beast, no one had been watching their path, and they had missed a turn- and were heading straight for a window.

The bike stopped when it hit the wall, and the trolls were all launched out the window.

Poppy’s vision flashed white from the pain of the extra impact on her hand, and she let go of the gem, letting out a cry. 

Her friends were all screaming in terror around her, but she wasn’t able to do anything to save them.

She felt an arm wrap around her waist. “Everyone grab on!!” Branch yelled, right next to her.

Something was forced into her arms, and she clutched tightly to the cold metal she recognized vaguely as the gem holding Creek. One of her hands landed on the hinge, digging into her burns, but she refused to let go again, no matter how much pain it caused her.

Then, she felt other things pressed against her, and then a few impacts.

They stopped, and for a moment, her vision was so dark she feared the worst. Then, the hair wrapped around them retreated, leaving Branch panting from the energy used.

Before she could check on him, though, she turned frantically to the item in her arms.

“Creek!” Poppy said, desperately, as she placed down the clasp. Branch stepped up alongside her and undid the latch keeping it closed.

When it opened, though, it was empty. 

She felt her heart seize within her chest. “We're too late,” she said, quietly. She felt a few tails wrap around hers, trying to offer comfort.

“Actually!” A new voice chimed in. Poppy looked up in terror to find a cage held over her head. “You're right on time!”

Chef slammed the cage down, trapping them once again.

Chapter Text

Poppy glared at her from the new cage, which was placed down on a kitchen counter. 

“Sorry, but I can’t have you leaving before tomorrow’s dinner,” Chef said, mockingly. “A dinner to which you are all invited. And when I say all…” she trailed off, pulling out a knife. “I mean every troll in Troll Village.”

Poppy strode in front of her friends, expression tight. “You’ll never find them!” She yelled, rebelliously. “Not where they’re hiding!”

“Oh, Princess Poppy-”

“It’s Queen Poppy ,” she corrected, aggressively.

The bergen’s face shifted. “Well, I guess that fits. I mean, your father led them away, and now you’re going to lead them right back.”

“I would rather die!” She yelled.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Chef said, tauntingly. “All in due time. In the meantime, I have all I need-” She unzipped her pouch, pulling out a purple troll with green hair. “-right here.”

“Creek!” Poppy yelled, desperately. She gripped tightly onto the bars, despite the sting that spread up her hands. “You’re alive!!” She looked at him as he smiled, regretfully, and felt her heart stutter.

“He’s selling us out!! ” Branch yelled, flinging his hair around Creek’s throat. The yoga instructor writhed in panic, before Poppy got in between them, forcing Branch to retract his hair. 

“I’m sure there’s something else going on here!” She pleaded. He glared at her, but stepped aside. She looked at her long-time companion, pleadingly. 

“Oh, you and your misplaced optimism.” He smiled like nothing was wrong. “I’m selling you out.”

In milliseconds, a new rope of hair wrapped around his neck, strangling him even tighter than the one before. She didn’t want to let go, but all of her friends were pulling her back, and she needed answers. “Explain yourself!!” She demanded.

He rubbed his throat. “Right when I was about to be eaten, I had… what could only be described as… an epiphany.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to die.”

“You… you pushed me,” Smidge said, quietly. “In the cage, you pushed me forwards, but I tripped!” Her eyes flared, glaring at him. “You tried to kill me! ”

“And during the attack,” Guy realized, his own face turning into a glare. “You didn't just bump into me- you pushed me back!”

“I promise, those were all brave sacrifices,” he said, delicately. “Despite my zen attitude, I fear death as much as the rest of you.”

“And that means you’re going to give up everyone else!? ” Poppy yelled at him. Her tail flicked sharply against the floor of the cage.

“I’m just trying to save myself, at any cost,” he said, softly. “Surely, you understand.”

She growled at him. “I don’t - I could have hidden away for years , but instead, I went back out to save my people- our people.” Her tail flicked. “The same people that you are killing.”

“Well, I wouldn’t think of it that way ,” he said, dismissively. “I do wish there was another way, though.”

“But there isn’t !” Chef said, cheerfully sharpening a knife behind him.

“And I'll have to live with this for the rest of my life,” he agreed, not caring. “At least you get to die with a clear conscience.” He smiled at her like he did many times before. That delicate smile. Like she was a child . “I mean, we weren't going to last too much longer anyways, with you as ‘Queen,’” he said, mockingly. “This way, it's not even your fault!” He smirked at her. “I guess you could say: I’m doing this for you . You should smile!”

He reached up into her hair and pulled out her cowbell. 

She, meanwhile, was frozen in shock. 

Completely still, she watched as Creek used her mallet to boop her nose, feeling almost as if she was watching someone else, before he was lifted away.

The kitchen grew warm and busy. She barely noticed when the others pulled her away from the bars of the cage as bergens began filtering in and out of the kitchen.

One bergen tried to open the cage, but was stopped by another one. Not long after that, they were dumped into a cookpot, hiding them from view. She landed on her hands, making them sting, but she didn’t spare them more than a passing glance.

Almost a whole day passed her by as she sat in shock. The others tried to get her attention, but nothing worked. 

Branch redressed her hands, wincing at the state of them. They looked worse than the moment she had burned them. Suki tried playing music from her headphones to distract them, but found every song she had saved felt inappropriate for the atmosphere. Smidge wrapped them all in a hair ball, but even that couldn't block out the sounds of the kitchen.

Poppy did look up, though, when the latches of the pot opened. 

She stared into the taunting yellow eyes of the chef as her people fell down around her. Then, the lid was latched again, preventing them from escaping.

“Viva!” A voice called.

She didn't look at him as her dad embraced her, turning her to face him.

“You've been gone for a long time! I'm glad you're okay!” He said, most likely unaware of a reason why she wouldn't be okay.

Even still, she felt the resentment building inside her. How could he be happy when they were about to die? How could he care about her when it was all her fault?! “Yeah, I'm okay. Got everyone I love thrown into a pot, thanks for asking.” She pushed her way out of his hands, stepping away from him.

“Poppy?” Biggie asked. “Are you being… sarcastic?”

“Yes!” She cried out. She was being incredibly obvious about it, she felt. The crowd gasped at the anger in her voice, though, and she stepped back, falling in on herself in shame. “I'm sorry. I don't know why I thought I could save you guys. All I wanted to do was keep everyone safe- be just like you, Dad.” Her voice grew tight with growing tears. The former king only stared at her in confusion. “I don't know why I thought I could make anything better. I let everyone down.”

Branch stepped out in front of her, drawing her attention. “But… Poppy-”

She turned away, walking towards the center of the pot. “You were right, Branch. I'm not good enough,” she told him. “I just wanted to help the village- make the fact that we escaped mean something. I tried so hard to keep everyone happy and healthy,” she sobbed. “And now, I’ve failed, and everyone is about to die,” she said, through her tears. “I'm just so tired.”

In the middle of the pot, she fell to her knees, hiding her face in her hair. Slowly, starting from the palms of her hands, she turned gray. All the life and hope drained from her.

No matter what had happened, she had always been hopeful and positive. With their beacon of light dimmed, other trolls followed suit.

If Queen Poppy was falling apart, then what hope did the rest of them have?

In a matter of moments, the whole pot was gray and dim. No troll dared smile in the face of their upcoming destruction.

In the middle of it all, Poppy wrapped her arms around her chest, feeling exposed. There was nowhere to hide in the giant pot, her pain and grief apparent to all her people. She wished she was little again, little enough to hide in her dad's hair. To be surrounded by the thick warmth and safety he used to provide. She wished there was someone …

The pot stayed silent, with the exception of the quiet noise filtering in from the outside. No troll dared speak. 

If you're lost, you can look, and you will find me

Time after time

If you fall, I will catch you, I will be waiting

Time after time

She blinked in confusion at the sound of her own singing. She knew it wasn't her , but that was her voice.

The confusion was strong enough to cause her to look up from her hands. The one spot of color in the whole pot was a small piece of scrapbooked fabric and paper. It was one of the earlier cards she did, back when she had the time to record the songs herself.

It was an invite to the five year anniversary party for her becoming queen. She had missed sleep for weeks making enough of them, trying to reassure her people she was dependable and able to do her job.

Holding the card was Branch. She hadn't even known he existed at that point, so she hadn't been able to make a card for him. She also knew many trolls threw that one out as time went on, so it was a shock that he had one. Rather than have the song play again, he closed the card and stepped forwards.

It was easy to push you away from me

Easy to say I wanted to be left on my own

He sang, softly. Poppy was surprised by his voice, and found she wasn’t the only one.

Yet somehow, I can't help but see

How your eyes are pools so deep

She flushed at the reminder of earlier, but looked away in shame, hands meeting in front of her chest. He stepped in front of her, gently reaching out to her.

Your hands seal the entrance and path to your heart

Happiness kept fear and the sadness you feel

Under the surface for so long

Locked that room, you keep it inside

He gently brought his hand up to tilt her face towards him. She felt wetness growing in her eyes, and avoided his gaze out of shame. 

Lend me your voice

Words you try so hard to forget

They'll break through the silence

I'll be close

Let me see the strength you hide

Deep down below

Show it all

He gently held her elbows, avoiding her hands, and pulled her up so she was standing. She glanced up at him and saw his understanding gaze, and felt seen for the first time in a while.

Lend me your voice

Let me see your face

I wish I could show you what I see

Courage and might

Let me feel the beat of your heart

The rhythm of our hope

He lifted her hand up to show her the color spreading back over it as she felt that hope again. Felt determined. She found herself smiling up at him, and joined in for the last verse.

Lend me your voice

Anything you want to say, I'll be right here

I'll listen, so tell me

Anything you want to do, I'll be right here

I'll do it beside you

The song faded out, and she glanced up to see her trolls regaining their colors as well. They were still scared, but they had hope. 

Her hug time bracelet chimed, and Branch smiled, opening his arms to her. She let herself fall in, clutching him tightly. 

“Thank you, Queen Poppy,” he muttered.

She blinked in surprise. He had just saved her , what was he talking about? “For what?” she questioned verbally.

He held up his own hand, showing the bright blue spreading up his arms. “For showing me what it’s like to feel happy.”

She gasped, excitedly, pulling him into another hug. “Branch!” She cheered. He fumbled, but wrapped his arms around her in return, balancing them out. “For real!?” She paused, looking around them at the bleak reminder of their coming fate. “Right now?”

He shrugged. “I guess so,” he admitted. “I just needed a little bit of help.” The color had spread all the way to the tips of his hair, showing his bright blue tones to the whole kingdom.

She smiled brightly, but paused when she felt a tug on her dress. “Miss Poppy?” One of the trollings questioned. “What are we going to do now?”

“I don’t know,” she admitted, because she never lied to the trollings about important things. “But I know we’re not giving up.”

The crowd all smiled, reassured, and looked at each other.

They all faltered though, when the noise of the latches clicking open echoed in the pot. 

Poppy placed herself in front of the trolling, and Branch placed himself in front of her. They all blinked at the bright light of the opening pot until the image cleared up.

“Bridget?” Poppy asked, confused. Some of her people glanced at each other, unsure of what was going on.

“Queen Poppy!” The bergen said, lowering her hand down. 

Poppy used her tail to hand the trolling off to Branch, who looked mildly startled at the child suddenly in his arms, and stepped onto the hand. She was lifted so she was eye-level with the maid.

“Bridget, what are you doing?” She questioned. She could see, from her elevated position, that they were not about to be served for dinner. They weren’t even in the castle anymore.

“I can’t let them eat you,” Bridget explained. She looked up from Poppy and grabbed the lip of the pot, tilting it over, so the trolls could hop over the edge. “Forgive me, your highness, but you have to go.” She lowered her hand so Poppy could hop off. 

The Queen did, but looked up at her friend in shock. “Bridget, you know what they’ll do if you go in there without us.”

The bergen nodded, but didn’t falter. “I know.” Once the last troll was out, she picked up the pot and re-affixed the lid. She reached under the bottom part of the cart and pulled out her bright yellow rollerblade. “You can use this to help any of your people who need it.”

“Come with us!” Poppy pleaded, walking right past the rollerblade.

“And make it easier to find you?” Bridget questioned rhetorically. “No way.” She walked inside and went to shut the door behind her when Poppy got in the way. 

“Bridget!” She protested. She felt her palms burning like she was reaching into the fire once again as she pressed them against the door to stop it.

The maid paused, looking down at the troll. She kneeled down so they were eye level. “Queen Poppy, you showed me what it was like to be happy,” she explained. “And I’ll always love you for that.”

“I love you too, Bridget,” Poppy said, without hesitation, though with anxiety coating her tone. 

“Take care of your people, your highness” Bridget said, softly pushing her out of the way and closing the door.

The small troll stared at it, as if waiting for it to open again, until a hand rested on her shoulder. She glanced behind her and saw Branch looking at her pleadingly.

Slowly, she relented, running back to the tree to lead her people out, Branch carrying the skate behind her.

—

She kept an eye on the doors, waiting for them to burst open, as her people ran past her and jumped into the tree. 

Dr. Moonbloom was leading the way, having remembered the path best out of anyone. Biggie, Cooper, and Guy were at the bottom of the hole, waiting to catch anyone that fell. Smidge and the twins were using their hair to help lower down anyone who needed help. The roller blade was still up with them, since the Doctor had insisted that no one was too injured to run quite yet, but it would be better to have it at the back of the line, so anyone who did get injured would just have to wait to be picked up.

The last troll jumped down, and she paused before jumping down herself. 

“Poppy?” Branch questioned. 

“We came here because I didn’t want to leave anyone behind,” she said. She turned back, determinedly, and looked him in the eyes. “It’s not fair to leave Bridget behind now- she deserves to be happy,” she declared. She turned and looked at the castle doors again. “They all do.”

—

Bridget was being held at spear-point when Poppy burst in through the window, riding a rollerskate, with Branch behind her.

Her friends all clung on tightly as well as they soared through the dining hall, before jumping off and landing on Bridget's head, reforming the rainbow wig. (Poppy hadn't wanted to ask them to come, with how risky her plan was, but they insisted she couldn't make the wig without them, which was technically true.)

“Lady Glitter Sparkles?” The bergen king asked, confused. Poppy heard other bergens, including the chef, let out their own noises of confusion. “But… how? Why?”

Poppy retracted her hair, stepping down onto Bridget's palm. “Because she didn't think you'd want someone like her.”

“I mean… hello? Is it me you're looking for?” Bridget asked, hesitantly repeating lines from her earlier song. “I didn't think so,” her face turned downwards, dejectedly.

The king slowly began lifting his hand when Chef growled, elbowing the guards next to her. “Guards!” She commanded. “ Finish her! ” She pointed an accusing finger at Bridget, who startled, placing herself in front of the trolls on the head table.

“No!” Gristle protested, to no avail.

“ Wait !” Poppy yelled, drawing the bergens’ attention. “King Gristle! When you were with Bridget, you were feeling something, weren't you?”

He nodded. “Well, yeah… but I just thought it was too much pizza.”

Bridget smiled. “Me too!”

“That feeling?” Poppy explained. “That was happiness. ”

“But you have to eat a troll to be happy?” The bib shop owner chimed in, nervously. “Don't you?”

“But King Gristle has never eaten a troll in his life!” 

“No, I haven't,” he said. He turned to Bridget, extending the other rollerskate out to her. “Yet here I am- belly empty, yet heart full.” 

She delicately slipped the skate on, completing the set. Slowly, Gristle rose, taking her hands. Other bergens began murmuring around them.

Behind them, Chef growled in anger. “Don't listen to her !” She yelled, voice tinged with disgust. “There's only one way to be happy! My way!!” She pushed Gristle and Bridget out of the way, both of them falling backwards, as she reached for the trolls.

The rest of them froze as Poppy pushed Branch out of the way, getting grabbed herself. The chef immediately whirled on the crowd, holding the pink troll aloft. “With me as Queen, we'll have troll every day of the year!!”

She lifted Poppy to her mouth, prepared to eat the tiny queen, when she was whacked in the head. The impact made her hand open, and Poppy was in a free fall for a moment before something slammed into her side, carrying her back to the head table. 

She realized, looking at Bridget's extended hand, that the girl had thrown a wooden spoon. From the tuft of dark blue hair in front of her, it seemed Branch was the one who caught her. 

He placed her down, and checked her over, but she stepped away, turning out to the astounded bergens. 

“Happiness isn't something you put inside you!” She yelled to them. “It's already there!” They were shocked by the act of rebellion, but shock wouldn't last forever. She had one chance to convince them, and she was going to take it. “You just… need a little help finding it, sometimes.”

Bergens began to ask questions, and Poppy answered them as quickly as she could, before breaking into song. They took a little longer, but the bergens began to sing as well, joining in on the happiness.

She felt a sense of ease settle in her gut, watching them all smile and dance without needing to eat a troll. As they did, her people jumped down, joining the dance party with smiles on their faces.

Chef growled, raising her knives towards the trolls standing on the lead table, glaring at the tiny pink being. Through the combined effort of the bergens and trolls, she ended up flying out the door in a burning cookpot, striking Poppy with a sense of irony.

She ran out to see the bergen that had terrorized her people for years flying straight out of Bergentown and into the forest. As she disappeared, the sky lightened as a new dawn broke. 

Poppy smiled, leading the trolls and bergens down to the Troll Tree, which grew rejuvenated with the singing all around it.

She stood on top of a mushroom stage, just like the one that started the whole journey, and smiled. It would be a hard few days- drafting up new laws and treaties, not to mention the medical attention her hands probably seriously needed- but somehow, the worst of it was over.

Chapter Text

The village took a while to rebuild. Branch had thought everything was perfect, but listening to Poppy list everything that needed to be fixed, and then everything they needed to build before the attack even happened… eesh. 

As a troll with a good understanding of building codes, Branch was volunteered to help with that job. There were groups going over their food supplies and gardens, groups keeping track of the young, elderly, and injured, and groups running around collecting supplies for the builders. 

After the doctor cleared her to walk around, Poppy ran around between them all, making sure everything was going okay and everyone was able to take care of themselves.

Unfortunately, that meant Branch didn’t have a buffer between him and the other trolls.

“You know,” he spoke up, halfway through one day of construction. “The structure of our pods mimics the pods that naturally occurred on the Troll Tree. It was originally thought that the tree grew the pods to tend to our needs, but with the lack of naturally occurring pods in the grove, I’m wondering if it was a specific type of tree that was able to grow the pods.”

“Really?” One of the trolls asked, curiously. 

He nodded. “I wonder if, now that we’re able to go into Bergentown, a couple gardeners could collect sprouts from the tree and regrow it out here.”

“Huh,” a different troll said, deep in thought. “That would be nice. Then, we don’t have to worry about building new pods whenever the village grows.”

Branch nodded, going back to his work. The morning went much like that, with various trolls in the group talking as they worked. He hummed in appropriate places when someone shared something personal, though he didn’t always know the best response to everything. It was fine, though, not every troll talked in every conversation.

As they lifted another pod, Branch glanced at the building materials they still had. “We’ll probably be able to start on another pod- make it easier for tomorrow. Otherwise, we’ll have to wait until then for more supplies.

A few in the group nodded, though a different few groaned in exhaustion. 

Silently, Branch judged them. The work they were doing was nothing compared to some of the other groups, nor what Branch himself used to do in a morning. Even still, he said nothing, just moving forwards to the supply pile.

After a while, one of the younger trolls excused themself. “I have to go check on my sister- she’s part of the food group.” He nodded at the group. “See you guys later.”

That seemed to break the dam, as the group slowly trickled away, giving one reason or another for ducking out early. Branch didn’t mind too much, since there wasn’t a lot left to do. He even voiced that to the last troll to leave, an older man with a fully gray beard.

A few minutes later, the task was finished, and Branch sat back, wiping some sweat off his brow. It was a hot day, and he should probably head back to his bunker for some lunch and clean water before he went to find what Poppy wanted him to do in the afternoon. Probably supply collecting, given how the building group had to pause because of that.

He ate a quick lunch, even took a small break to rinse off in some cold water before heading back out again. 

He decided the village proper would be the best place to start looking for Poppy, since he couldn’t exactly figure out where all the groups were and then figure out which one she was at, and hope she didn’t move on before he got there. He nodded to himself, settled in his plan of action.

He paused, though, when he heard noises from a clearing just inside the village boundaries. When he heard a loud laugh, he quietly hoped Poppy would be there, and he could avoid having to interact with more trolls than necessary to find her. He peeked through the brush, finding the group he had spent the morning building with, all sitting around, sharing a picnic lunch.

…without him.

Something in his chest tightened. He hadn’t missed an invitation, had he? Had he zoned out during a conversation? No. No, he hadn’t. He debated joining them anyways- play it cool. He wasn’t… enthused about eating with a large group of trolls, but he felt odd at being left out. He looked at all their smiling and laughing faces and allowed himself to shrink back into the brush, redirecting himself to the village proper, like he had planned.

—

“Branch, right?”

He looked up from the bin of berries he was counting to find a troll about his age standing above him. 

“I’m Beetroot. He/She. I heard you forage?” The troll said, bluntly. She was light blue with mauve hair, and a richer purple outfit to match his hair. Branch noted that he was wearing a cargo vest and cargo pants, and every pocket carrying some sort of tool or item. He respected that.

“Yes,” he replied, just as bluntly.

She relaxed slightly, pulling something out of her left pocket. “I found this growing in the gardens when we got back, and I wasn’t sure what it was.” It was a small sprig, with some leaves and a blue, round berry clinging to the end. “Spudsy didn’t recognize it, but Yarrow and I thought it might be edible.”

Branch held out his hand, and Beetroot easily handed the plant over. He inspected it, glancing at the leaves, before crushing the berry between two of his fingers and smelling it. His nose wrinkled. “Was this by itself, or was there a bush of these?”

“A bush,” the other answered. He frowned before he continued. “I thought it was strange, since we weren’t gone for that long.”

“Well, good news is: it’s not poisonous,” Branch answered. “This plant smells terrible, but it actually can help with indigestion.”

Beetroot narrowed her eyes. “And the bad news?” He asked.

“You need to move it out of the garden really soon,” Branch explained. “They grow so fast by stealing water and nutrients straight from other plants.” 

“It’s a parasite?” The other troll asked, curiously tilting his head.

Branch nodded. He held the plant back out for the other to take. “Yes. It can survive on its own, but it grows faster when stealing from others. I have some in a solitary plot in my own garden, and it grows at about the same rate as other berry bushes, but with a near-constant harvest.” He reached into his hair and pulled out a blueprint. “If the village gardens can replicate this, you should be able to grow a steady supply for Dr. Moonbloom to use.”

Beetroot placed the sprig back in her pocket and took the blueprint, rolling it out. “What short-hand do you use? I don’t recognize what these materials are.”

“I made my own,” he responded. “These are materials I found deep underground, and along the riverbed. None of the short-hands from before the escape had anything for them.” He frowned, bringing a hand up to his chin. “I could bring my stores of the materials down to the gardens if the troll in charge approves.”

She nodded. “I’ll ask Spudsy tomorrow,” she agreed. “I can uproot the plant already there in the meantime, though, right?”

Branch nodded, going back to his planting as the other troll looked over the blue prints.

“So, how’d you come up with this design?” He asked. “I haven’t seen much like this before.”

The former-gray troll blinked, surprised at the continued conversation. “Well, I noticed some of it growing out in the wild, and tried to grow it here. It took over, so I went back and looked at what was different between the original spot and here and…”

He continued talking, explaining everything. The other troll would ask questions from time to time, about the materials, about the design, and about Branch’s own garden. It felt… nice… for Branch to engage with another troll like that. It was about a half hour later when she stood, unexpectedly, cutting the conversation short.

“I have to go work.”

Without another word, she turned and began to walk away, towards the direction of the village gardens. 

Branch figured maybe he had just grown tired of the conversation, since he had been talking less and less as the time went on. She had said that the garden staff were done for the day, since they did most of their chores in the morning, so they could join parties in the midday and afternoon. Seeing as the sun was starting to tip onto the horizon, he guessed she wasn’t telling the truth about going to work. He probably just wanted to go to bed.

The formerly-gray troll finished up his task in his own garden and went towards the village garden. Maybe, since everyone else had gone home, he could survey the area for a space for the bush.

When he got close, though, he heard laughing. Once again, he found himself peeking through the foliage.

Beetroot was there with another troll, a teenager, and was laughing heartily as they talked. The teen lit up, chattering excitedly at him. “You’re coming to the party tonight, right?!” They said. 

The older troll ruffled their hair. “You bet, kid.”

They smacked her hand playfully. “You know, you’re not that much older than me.”

The two of them turned, walking away. Branch hadn’t even heard of a party going on that night. He hoped that Poppy wasn’t hosting, and that was why he hadn’t received an invitation, but a little voice in the back of his head made him wary. He returned to his bunker, quietly.

In the dark of the night, he dropped off the materials, since it wasn’t like he was sleeping anyways. He left a code for his short-hand on top, so they wouldn’t be forced to talk to him to get it.

—

A day later, he sat, kneeling in his garden, testing the soil. No one in the village had something for him to help with, and Poppy was already gone on her rounds by the time he got there. He decided to make use of his time, since he had scheduled a break the next day, and he couldn’t move that.

“Hey Branch!” He heard a yell from behind him. He turned to find the queen bounding up excitedly, presumably done with her rounds. She presented him with an envelope. 

Carefully, he took it, eyeing it nervously as he began to fiddle with the flap. 

“Music, Branch!” Poppy protested. “It’s not glitterbombed this time!”

“This time,” he muttered, cautiously opening it. He pulled out a card, which was shaped like a toolbox. He opened the top, like he would do with his real tool box, and a handful of little googly-eyed tools popped out.

We’ll build this city!

We’ll build this city- this I know!

“‘You are invited to a party celebrating our progress in rebuilding the village,’” Branch read. He looked up at her. “Wouldn’t you rather wait and throw a ‘we’re done’ party?”

She shrugged. “People need a reminder of the good things. I mean, they’ve been building for a week now, and people are starting to become demotivated. I figured this would be a good break before we get back into it.”

“What makes you think I’ll show up?” He asked, eyes narrowed. 

She shrugged. “I don’t know, I just wanted to offer it anyway.” She smiled down at him. “I mean, I’d like it if you could make it, but no one is ever required to come to a party.” There was a cry of her name from down the path, and she glanced back, before turning to him apologetically. “I have to go- the trollings finished an art project recently, and they want it hung up in one of the new buildings. I get to decide which one!” He waved her away, and she skipped down the path, waving back at him until she disappeared around the bushes. He sighed, staring at the card in his hand. The tools were exact replicas of his own, except for the googly eyes. 

He didn’t particularly want to go to that party…

—

Branch sat silently, at the edge of the party. 

He had shown up 15 minutes late, trying to not be the first person there. Unfortunately, that meant he somehow upstaged Guy Diamond’s dramatic entrance. The glitter troll had huffed at him, but Branch felt like he was barely disrupting anything . Poppy had walked over to the two of them, laughing easily as she held out her arms, adorned in her royal cloak. Even with the bandages still covering her hands, she was gorgeous.

At that, the tension had eased. 

Branch had been grateful, and found himself awkwardly following her around the party. Every time she talked to a troll, he noticed them awkwardly glancing at him, despite her non-chalant attitude.

So, he made an excuse that he was thirsty and retreated to the drink table. He stayed there, just watching the party like he always did.

“Branch!”

Poppy smiled as she approached him, face excited and open. (He took a sip of his drink to hide his flushed expression.) “I know I didn’t get to say it earlier, but thank you so much for coming!”

He snorted. “I mean, I think everyone else would rather I stayed away.”

Her ears drooped. “Has anyone said anything like that?”

“What?” He sputtered, trying to fix her disappointment (in him something in his head said.) “No, I just- I don’t know…”

She looked relieved, her ears perking back up. “Oh! Well, why don’t I introduce you to someone? I’m sure there’s someone here who would love to talk to you-”

“No, it's fine,” he said, placatingly. “I'll probably say something wrong, anyways.”

Poppy tilted her head at him, in an adorable presentation of confusion. “What do you mean?”

He sighed, glancing out at the mass of trolls having fun. “I don't know, I just- sometimes others will find an excuse to leave after I talk to them.”

She frowned. “Do you know what you say for that to happen?”

He snorted. “If I knew , then I wouldn't keep saying whatever it was, would I?”

She hummed, consideringly. She stared at the party and crossed her arms, one hand going up to rest on her chin, before pausing the action and lowering it back down. “Could it maybe be something to do with the other troll, and not anything you're doing wrong?”

“I've considered that,” he admitted. “But then, the troll I was talking to goes and talks to someone else, and then, they're planning their next get-together and exchanging mailing addresses to keep in touch.” He crossed his arms. “It's not like I have a real mailing address, but they don't ever even ask to find out.”

“Branch,” she said, softly. “We do all live pretty closely. It's possible they just already knew from someone else.”

He huffed, turning to leave. “It doesn't matter, anyways,” he grumbled. “I'm heading home.”

Without a glance backwards, he turned and walked away.

—

The next morning, he rolled out of bed with a groan. He did not want to get up, and his schedule for the day did not entice him into it either. 

He had agreed to take a day off, leaving him with nothing to do in his bunker, nor in town. Theoretically, most trolls would love the opportunity to do nothing, but he was not most trolls.

Even still, he got up, got dressed, and started the day. He needed to check on some of the plants he had planted above his bunker, which would hopefully begin to grow some berries he would previously have to travel to get.

He stood on the elevator, blearily counting the floors until he was on the surface level. He locked the handle in place, reaching up to push the trapdoor open. When he did, though, something fell through.

He paused, looking down. A pink envelope with glittery writing greeted him, with the Queen's name scrawled on the return address. In the middle of the envelope was his name in blue glitter pen. 

Confused, he reached down to grab it. When he couldn't detect any glitter traps, he slowly began to open it. 

Inside was a delicately scrapbooked card, with a little image of a mailbox and a little image of him, on official royal stationery.

Hello, Branch!

It's Poppy! You talked about wishing others would ask you for your mailing address to keep in touch, so I thought this might be a nice surprise! While you don't have a mailing address yet, I thought it might be fun to write you letters until you do! Then, we can write to each other all the time!

From,

Queen Poppy

Reading the letter, he began to glare. He scoffed, storming into town.

He caught her as she left the school pod, scrapbooks tucked under her arm. When she saw him, she smiled brightly.

“Hey!” She greeted. “The paperwork to set up a mailing address is in progress, but did you see the-?”

“Yeah, I saw it,” he ground out. “You know that’s not what I meant!”

She faltered under his anger. “But, you talked about wanting to keep in touch with others through mail? And this is mail, so we can communicate with each other?”

“I-” He deflated. “Queen Poppy, I don’t actually want to send letters to other trolls,” he explained. Her ears tilted as she turned her head, confused. “I just- the fact that they don’t even ask makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong.”

“Oh,” she said, slowly.

His face softened as he looked at her calculating expression. “Queen Poppy, this isn’t something you can just fix. I’m bad at social interaction, I’m not as happy or easy to talk to as other trolls. I can wish it was different, but it won’t be.”

She frowned. “Well, I think you’re easy to talk to,” she admitted. When he blinked at her, she shrugged. “You don’t always expect me to know things you don’t tell me, and if you do, you explain it. And, you know a lot of things other trolls don’t know, and I love learning about them.”

He flushed. “Oh. Thank you,” he said, sheepishly.

She smiled at him, gesturing out into the village proper. “Would you want to join me? I’m about to inspect some of the newly built pods to make sure they’re up to safety standards.”

He faltered, before nodding softly. “I like safety standards.”

Her smile was blinding as she turned to him, leading him out towards the village.

“Speaking of safety-” He said, lifting the card. “Did you protect your hands while making this?”

Suddenly, she turned away, looking everywhere but his face. “They’re fine, just a little dry.”

He sighed deeply. “Your highness…”

“Oh, look at that! A safety inspection!” She interrupted, terribly lying.

Chapter Text

It was another beautiful morning in Troll Village, just like the one before it, and the one before that. The forest was singing, the trolls were singing, and even the sun was singing. 

Poppy smiled as she waved to her people, all of them waving back or offering some sort of greeting. Some trollings from her class ran up to her, and she paused to see the project they excitedly presented to her. She complimented their wonderful work, and they giggled as they ran off to tell their parents.

She hummed as she walked, the flowers turning to hear the tune. She paused again to water one of them that had been drooping, and the flower perked up, adding a nice baseline to her melody.

She smiled and waved at the flowers as well, before turning around a corner and entering a small clearing closer to the edge of the village. 

The nurse on duty saw her and waved. “Hello, your highness!” She greeted. “Right on time!”

Poppy laughed. “Hello, Ginger Root,” she greeted. “How’s he doing?”

“Well, he’s certainly living up to his name today!”

Before their conversation could continue, a voice called out from inside the pod. “Is that my daughter!?”

“Hi, Dad,” Poppy greeted with a smile as she walked into the elderly care pod where her father lived. The nurse at the front, the one her dad had been talking to, smiled softly at her, nodding to acknowledge her entrance.

After a brief pause, he glanced over as well, and his smile grew. “¡Mija!” He turned, hobbling towards his room. “Come in, come in! I just put some tea on!” He was dressed in a pair of green pants and a dark green vest- both reminiscent of the outfit he wore during the escape.

Poppy smiled, following him inside. There was a non-zero chance the tea was either ice cold from sitting out for hours, bitter from overbrewing, or a combination of both. She didn't care, though, because he was having a good day. He recognized her.

Peppy hobbled over to the small kitchen, taking out cups and pouring tea, which was no longer steaming. Poppy happily took the glass, lifting it up to her lips. The cooled drink still smelled faintly of strawberries, his favorite flavor. 

He always joked by insisting that it was her favorite flavor, not his, which is why everything he made was strawberry flavored, no matter how many times she insisted her favorite flavor was cherry.

He would just insist that, since they were father and daughter, it had to be her favorite flavor too. The way he said it always made her wonder if it was something she had said as a child, but didn’t remember.

“Sky dropped by,” he said, conversationally. “He told me what a wonderful job you’ve been doing,” he smiled, nudging her as he went to sit on the other side of the tiny table. 

“Really?” Poppy asked. “Did he give any specifics?”

“I can’t quite remember,” he admitted. He laughed. “My age must be getting to me already! You know, these nurses are quite nice, but they seem convinced that I must have lost my marbles!”

Poppy laughed along with him. When it first began, he would have admitted he was slowly losing his mind. As far along as he was, though, it was a trial each day. 

“So, Dad,” she said, placing her cup on the table. Everything was going okay, so she figured there wouldn’t be a much better time to ask. “I wanted to talk to you because…. Uh… I was hoping to get some help.”

“Oh?” He sipped his tea, ears tilting curiously. “What’s wrong? Is it that Petal girl giving you trouble again?”

It took a second for her to try to place the name. As far as she knew, Petal had been a trolling lost before they escaped- maybe the other had interacted with her when she was just hatched, but she couldn’t remember ever knowing her. “Oh- uh, no, Dad, it’s not- it’s not her. I was just wondering… did you know about Branch?” She asked, uncertainly. 

“What branch?” Peppy said, confused. “Did a branch fall from a tree?”

“What, no, Dad, I mean Branch,” she tried to explain. “He lives just outside of town, was gray-”

“Oh, honey,” Peppy said, sympathetically. “I’m sorry, I know losing someone to grayness can be hard.” He wrapped his tail around hers, trying to comfort her. 

Poppy’s ears pinned back in confusion. “No, he’s not-”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Peppy said, quickly. “It was wrong of me to assume it was already ended.” He pushed the tea cup aside to hold her hand from across the table. “When this happens, it’s just so hard. You have to watch the troll you know become a shell of who they once were, slowly falling apart.”

“I know,” Poppy said, her voice tightening as she tightened her grip on his hand. It felt like she was looking in a fun house mirror. “I- I’m grieving someone who’s not even gone yet.” 

“And this… Branch?” He said, softly. “You’re being there all you can? It can be difficult when they don’t even seem to recognize you, viva.”

The queen shifted, eyes darting up at her father as they filled with tears. “...yeah.” She squeezed her eyes closed, feeling his grip shifting in her hand. “Dad, it’s just so hard. I feel like nothing I do will ever be good enough, nothing I say will ever change what he’s going through. I can try to remind him of the days passing by, and- and to eat regularly, but time just blurs together for him.”

“Oh, mija…”

“And- and he- I know he needs to take medicine and eat right, because even if it’s inevitable, I want to keep him around for as long as I can, you know?” She asked, rhetorically. “I feel like he’s been slipping for as long as I can remember, but I just- I just can’t let go.”

“I’m sorry,” Peppy said, softly. “I wish I could just make it all better.”

“I wish you could, too,” she said, wiping at her teary eyes. “I feel so… selfish- I’m trying, but I feel like I’m never really there when he really needs me, and I just sometimes wish I could just skip the bad stuff, and remember the good times. That- that I could pretend he’s still the troll he used to be.”

“You know, I remember this time- back when I was barely a trolling older than you are now, and one of my friends got eaten at Trollstice,” he said. Poppy looked up at him- he had told the story before, but it had been when he was a teenager, a young adult, and even had taken place only two years prior- at least, according to his recollection. “His sister had blamed herself for not saving him, for not jumping in the way first. She thought she was a coward for closing her eyes and covering her ears. But, you know what?” He asked. “Sometimes, it just becomes too much, and people just want to hide.”

“I know,” Poppy agreed, quietly.

“But, viva, we’re the ones everyone’s looking to. We’re stronger,” he intoned. “I believe you can be there for him, even in the bad times. I know you’ll be there, even in the end.”

“Dad?” Poppy asked, nervously. “Can- can I have a hug?”

The older man smiled softly and stood, extending his arms. Poppy leaned into them, pressing her own hands to his shoulder blades as she hugged him in return. She held back her tears, but only barely. 

He wouldn’t know why she was crying- he never did. He just told her he believed in her, that she could do it. 

His hair tickled her cheek, and if she leaned far enough forwards, she might be able to hide her face in there, though she was definitely too big to be hiding in there like a trolling. She wanted to hide from the world, though- hide from the truth. She didn’t want to do it.

He awkwardly patted her back, and she felt his arms loosening around her. She acquiesced, unraveling her own arms as her tail wrapped itself around her waist.

“When did you get so big?” Peppy joked, smiling softly at her. “You're taller than me, now!”

She had become taller than him at 11, she remembered. Because she remembered the first time they hugged where his hair had brushed her forehead, rather than having him complain about hers getting in his eyes.

Her face shifted into as much of a smile as she could manage. “I don't know, Dad.”

He waved her off. “This must be Moonbloom's doing- I told her those experiments were unethical!” He joked. 

“Dad…” Poppy said, her face carefully crafted. “Moonbloom didn't experiment on me.”

“That's what she says,” he intoned. “But I remember when she first held Mags’ egg. Truly evil!”

Mags Gumdrop, one of her dad's other friends, was, in fact, two years older than Moonbloom. Therefore, was most definitely hatched by the time Moonbloom was hatched, let alone practicing medicine.

“I'll bet,” Poppy agreed.

“You know, we made a deal, once upon a time,” Peppy said, a sly smile on his face. “In order to become king, I had to give her my firstborn. But, then you hatched, and you cried and cried-” he laughed. “Doc told me I could keep my pink-lemon sour gumdrop all to myself!”

Poppy smiled and laughed, lifting her cup to her lips to hide half of her face.

Their titles and status as royalty was hereditary, and Moonbloom had no control over it. In addition, Moonbloom (and Mags, and even her dad's quietest friend, Sky Toronto) had told her that she was such a quiet baby that it made everyone nervous. She smiled and reacted, but she was always quiet- which worked out well for escaping the night before Trollstice, but was strange for a trolling.

“My little pink lemonade,” Peppy said, proudly. He held out his hand, which Poppy didn't hesitate to take. “My life, mi viva,” he continued. “Te amo, y estoy orgulloso de ti. Lo sabes, ¿verdad?”

“Sí, Dad,” she affirmed. “Yo sé.”

Hesitantly, she placed down her cup again and raised her arms in a silent request.

He stood with a chuckle, letting her settle in for another hug.

Carefully, as to not unbalance him, she leaned her head against his shoulder, hunching her own and pretending, for a moment, that it was all still okay.

Chapter Text

“Queen Poppy,” Guy Diamond announced, interrupting her as she walked and handing her an envelope. “I request your presence for a very important announcement.”

Stopping, she took the card, ripping it open. Her hands had healed enough to wrap the bandages in a way that left her with the ability to use her fingers, as long as she was careful. Like all things related to Guy Diamond, it was very glittery, to the point where some glitter was trailing down the sides of the envelope.

“‘Come to Guy Diamond’s very important slumber party, to hear the very important announcement,’” she read. “‘If you miss it, you’ll get serious FOMO.’”

“It means ‘Fear of Missing Out,’” Guy informed her.

She leveled him a flat stare. “I am well aware of what it means, Guy,” she said, teasingly. “I was there when you invented it, remember?”

He waved at her dismissively. “Well, then you know you have to be there.”

“Yeah, totally,” Poppy agreed. “But… uh… where and when is ‘there?’”

With a flourish, Guy pointed down below. When she moved the card, she saw the fallen glitter on the ground had spelled out ‘My Pod. Tomorrow, 7:30PM.’

“Huh.”

“And,” he said, pulling out another envelope with a different flourish. “Give this to Branch for me.”

She raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I’ll see him before you do?”

“He follows you around like you’re as iconic as me ,” Guy said, flatly. “He’ll find you .”

Poppy flushed, but was unable to refute as her friend walked away to find DJ Suki.

The wind rustled the grass, dispersing the glitter, and she tucked the open card in her hair (no doubt covering it with glitter, too).

“Hey!” Branch called, jogging up to her. “Was that Guy Diamond just now? What did he need?”

(She was going to de-glitter him, she decided, as she turned around with the most neutral face she could manage to face Branch.)

—

“‘FOMO?’”

“It means ‘Fear of missing out.’”

“Of course it does. …alright, and where and when is this supposed to be?”

“Look down.”

“Huh.”

—

Even if the card hadn’t said where it was, it would have been obvious from the lights and glitter flying around the pod.

Branch winced. “Is the whole village squeezing into that tiny pod?”

“No, of course not,” Poppy said, pulling him towards it. “It’s just going to be the snackpack.”

He sighed. “I still can’t believe you guys call yourselves that.”

She shrugged, and they jumped up to the pod, Branch lifting her whenever she would have needed to use her hands. (She wasn’t sure if she should feel touched by the gesture, or annoyed by the over caution. They barely hurt anymore.)

Nonetheless, they made their way up, entering the pod.

“Greetings!” Guy said, happily. “You’re just in time!”

Branch raised an eyebrow. “We’re half an hour early.”

“Exactly!” He replied, smile not slipping from his face. “And since I told the others 6:30, you all got here at the same time!”

“Guy!” Poppy protested. “I told you to stop doing that!” 

“And I will,” he promised. “ Next time.”

She shot him a look, knowing that was exactly what he had said last time. Branch nodded, acknowledging the cleverness in the actions.

“Anyways, come on in!”

As they walked, Suki raised her cup to them in greeting. Both Biggie and Cooper waved happily, serving themselves plates of food. 

On the couch, Satin and Chenille were arguing with Smidge, who was wearing the same plain-blue dress she always wore.

“It’s a perfectly acceptable outfit!”

“Not for a party !!”

“Girls, girls,” Guy said, calmingly. “It doesn’t matter what she’s wearing.” Smidge gestured at him in a ‘see!’ gesture. “Because this party is all about me .” He struck a pose, flashing his glitter. “And… ” The whole group paused in confusion, looking over. Guy never shared the spotlight with anyone. The center of attention, he parted his hair. “-my new egg!”

Nestled in his hair was a tiny silver egg, not even big enough to have its own tuft of hair. In Guy's own silver hair, though, it was perfectly camouflaged. 

In moments, the whole pod had erupted into screams and cheers, a noise level unbefitting for only 9 trolls.

“Guy!!” Poppy yelled, rushing to hug her friend. “I can’t believe this!!”

Branch turned when he heard a quiet sniffle. 

Chenille held a tissue delicately to her eyes. “Taken from us so young ,” she mourned. Her eyeliner didn't move at all.

Her sister smacked her arm. “ Chenille!” She whisper-shouted. “He’s not dying!”

“He might as well be,” the periwinkle twin responded, at the same volume. Thankfully, it was too quiet for Guy to hear. “Do you know how germ-ridden those little monsters are?!”

“But just imagine the tiny little outfits we could make!” Satin argued. Branch felt that wasn't really the best argument in defense of trollings, but the twins had always struck him as odd, even without their attached hair.

All of a sudden, the crying twin straightened, wiping away any traces of tears. “With tiny little overalls?” Sparkles formed in her eyes as she began brainstorming ideas.

Branch rolled his eyes, gaze shifting.

Biggie was blubbering through his tears how excited he was, while Cooper softly headbutted Guy in what Branch understood as his own expression of affection. Smidge, in her excitement, began doing push-ups in the middle of the living room. Suki had made her way over to the music, and was shifting it to reflect her overjoyed mood.

“I’m ready to be a DILF!” Guy said, excitedly. The rest of the group began chattering in excitement.

“Yeah!!” Cooper cheered. “Guy the DILF!!”

“I’m sorry,” Branch interrupted. “A what ?”

“DILF,” Poppy answered, patiently. “A Devoted, Involved, Loving Father.”

He shot her a look. “Why do you guys have acronyms for everything?” 

She shrugged. “Anyways,” she said, turning back to her glittery friend. “Guy, this is so exciting!” She said, happily. Although her and her friends were reaching the ages where most of their parents had hatched them, Guy was the first one out of the group to take the step.  

The glitter troll smirked. “Oh, I know.” His face grew more sheepish, which was strange for him. “There is something I wanted to ask you and Branch, though.”

Their ears both turned to him in confusion. 

“In the troll tree tradition, I would like to ask to name you both their podparents,” he said. The rest of the group gasped. “I know you’re both busy trolls, but if I need help, something happens to me, or I am unable to take care of my baby, I want to know they’re in the best hands possible.”

Poppy stepped forwards. “YES!!” She said, happily. “In a heartbeat, yes!!” She hugged her friend tightly. (She had quietly resigned herself to being as old as her dad had been when she had her own trollings. She was too busy to give a trolling adequate attention for growth, and too connected to her people to feel comfortable stepping away to raise a trolling. She had resigned herself to being the cool teacher and the fun aunt.)

Guy hugged her in return, before turning nervously to Branch. “Well?”

“Me?!”  

“...yes?” He answered, confused. “You’re a very prepared troll, and you’ve literally saved my life. Who else would I ask?”

“But-! But I’m the village grump! You guys don’t like me!”

“Of course we do,” Guy said, reassuringly, if a bit confused. The others nodded behind him. “Branch, you’re our friend .”

His tail flattened on the ground. “Oh.” Slowly, he nodded. “I’ll be a podparent,” he agreed, quietly. (He had quietly resigned himself to dying alone and unloved. The fact that he had friends- was about to be a podparent…)

Despite it not being hugtime yet, the whole group surrounded him, embracing him tightly.

Then, the party continued, well into the night.

—

The next evening, Branch found Poppy sitting outside her pod. 

“I cleared my schedule for tomorrow,” she declared. “I- I’ve been thinking of my own childhood, and I think I want to go to the tree tomorrow.”

Slowly, Branch sat down next to her. “Would you like company? I have some things I want to pick up.”

She nodded, and twined their tails together as they watched the sun set over the horizon. Poppy closed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Branch tensed, holding as still as he could as she drifted to sleep.

—

Poppy smiled at Branch as he hesitantly got on the flyerbug behind her. “Ready?”

“For a nice, easy fly through the forest?” He asked, rhetorically. “Sure.”

She smiled even wider, putting her goggles on. “Okay!”

—

When they arrived in Bergentown, Branch gasped, hobbling off the flyerbug. 

Poppy looked at him nervously. “Are you okay?” She asked.

He gasped again, falling onto the ground. “You drive like a maniac!”

“It wasn’t that bad,” she argued. 

He laid on his back, looking up at the sky. “Just leave me here to die.”

A couple bergens stopped and stared at the two trolls, but continued on when they saw the queen standing with her hands on her hips. “You’re fine ,” she said, scoldingly. “My flying is not bad.”

“I’m flying on the way home,” he ground out. “So you can learn how to do it properly.”

She rolled her eyes. “Fine!” She threw her hands up, turning to the tree. “If you need me, I’ll be in my old pod!”

“Be careful of your hands!” He yelled up at her as she launched herself up with her hair.

With her gone, he laid for a second with a sigh, before getting up and walking around the base of the tree, picking up fallen branches and twigs.

—

Up in the tree, Poppy stopped at the door to her family’s old pod. For all her bravado on the way there, she was terrified .

She wasn’t even sure what she was scared of . Most things they truly cared about were carried away in their hair, so it wasn’t like anything would be left behind other than large furniture items. Even still, it felt like too much to go into the pod. Instead, she walked around the treetop, looking at the rest of the village. Eventually, she made her way to the old market. 

Despite the tree being destroyed, and then regrown with magic, everything inside the tree was the same as how they left it. She found the old berry booth, which still had a couple jars of berries on its surface. Then, the booth of the old troll who always sold woven goods and gave Poppy little sour berries.

She had only been in the tree for two months before they escaped, though. She only remembered bits and pieces, almost entirely seen through her dad’s hair. Even then, she knew the memories were flawed. For a while, when she was really little, Poppy had thought her dad had yellow hair.

It wasn’t until he had laughed one day and told her that just because his hair was a lighter color than hers didn’t mean it wasn’t still pink.

The berries might not have been as sour as she remembered, and the troll running the booth could have just been in her 30s for all Poppy knew.

The market felt strange to look at. So, she decided she was done looking at it. It wasn’t like she had anything she was specifically looking for.

Instead, she climbed her way to the top of the tree, sitting on a branch that had the clearest view of the sky. She sat, basking in the warmth of the sun, which was somehow the most familiar part of the whole experience. 

This was her people’s ancestral home- her home. Yet it felt just as strange as when she was exploring the Bergentown castle.

Maybe that was why she was scared to go inside her old pod.

Maybe, when she entered, she wouldn’t know anything inside. Whenever she tried to remember her home, she just remembered the pod in the village. She hoped walking inside would restore all her old memories, but sometimes she wondered how much there actually was to remember.

If she was as far removed from the days in the tree as her dad was to the present.

She told stories of the tree to her students. She studied their history, listened to their elders when they talked about it, even if none of them were old enough to remember life before Bergens. No one was- it had been hundreds of years.

Her tail curled around her stomach and she curled into a ball, clutching her knees to her chest. Her hands ached, despite being careful with them. She really hoped it didn’t mean a storm was coming, which she noticed happened sometimes.

“Queen Poppy!?”  

She glanced down to see Bridget standing on the road next to the tree.

When the bergen saw her look down, she brightened, waving enthusiastically. 

Poppy bounced her way down, flinging herself over to her friend. “Bridget?” She asked. “Is everything okay?”

“Of course!” Her friend responded. “Are you okay?” Poppy startled. “You looked a little dim up there.”

“Yeah!” Poppy rushed to reply. “It’s just-” she sighed. “It’s strange being back again.”

“Oh, I can imagine,” Bridget said, quietly. “Do you want to talk about it?”

The queen shrugged. “I don’t know.” She deflated. “I feel like I should think of this as home, but I just-” She cut herself off, looking down sadly.

“I’m sorry,” Bridget said. “This must be a lot to deal with.” She brought her hand up, which Poppy settled on. Her tail wrapped around Bridget’s finger, anchoring her down. In the wake of the whole situation with the last Trollstice, the bergen girl had picked up some psychology books from neighboring kingdoms- learning about happiness, misery, and fear.

Sometimes, Poppy felt like everything she said was being filed against the textbooks for reference. But, Bridget was her closest friend, and had become a confidant for the young queen despite that. “I-” She frowned, tilting her head down, not in fear, but shame. “Sometimes I just feel so alone, even when I’m surrounded by others.”

The bergen hummed. “Do you have your scrapbooking supplies?”

“I never leave without them, why?”

Bridget gestured towards the castle. “How about we both sit down and scrapbook? Then, we can feel alone together.”

With teary eyes, Poppy nodded, allowing herself to be carried away.

Chapter Text

Settled in Bridget’s new room, Poppy sat in front of her scrapbook, staring at a blank page. The ache in her hands from earlier had increased, and she couldn’t hold her scissors for more than a few seconds at a time. 

“Hey, Poppy?” Bridget said, interrupting the heavy silence. “I know we’re having some nice quiet time here, but do you think you could come help me with the layout of this page?”

“Of course!” The queen said, excitedly. She left her supplies behind to hop up to Bridget’s desk, which was scattered with random craft supplies.

Ever since the whole incident with… Trollstice… Gristle had had Bridget’s stuff moved out of the storage room and into a real bedroom in one of the towers. She had expressed worry that it was only because they had started dating, and Gristle hadn’t seen the problem with that.

…which had prompted a long discussion, including more than a few strong words and shouts between them.

In the end, they settled that her room was hers as the head of the castle staff, and should they break up, she would keep her room unless she quit her job. Which, side note: Gristle had made her the head of staff after Chef was sent flying out of the kingdom in flames. Turns out, being the sole caretaker of a castle for years makes you very good at the job.

Her new room was decorated in much softer fabrics, though it still carried the pink themes from her old room. Rather than more than half of her room being kitchen storage space, it was filled with furniture and clothes- her furniture and clothes.

She had a desk, now, to work on all her crafts on, adorned with all of the craft supplies she could ever want.

Poppy had been settled on a small stool nearby, but bounced up to the desk when Bridget called. “What do you need help with?” She couldn't really do much in terms of actually crafting with Bridget's gigantic supplies, but honestly, her hands needed a break anyways.

Bridget splayed out a set of photos of her and Gristle. “I’m trying to do something of me and Grissy, but every photo kinda looks…” She gestured at the photos, which showed the two of them, all in dingy lighting, holding random signs proclaiming the day of the week. “I tried to do what you do, with the photo every day, but I guess our days are less exciting.”

Poppy blinked. “Bridget, I send you holiday photos,” she stated. “We have the same names for the days of the week.”

“You have one every day?” Bridget asked, confusedly. “Wow. All we had was Trollstice- um, sorry about that.”

The troll’s tail shifted as she tilted her head in confusion. “So… you don’t have any holidays anymore?”

“No?” Bridget confirmed. “I mean, what are your holidays even about? How do you have so many?”

“Well, obviously, we have the day celebrating our freedom,” Poppy said, before faltering. “Uh- no offense.”

“None taken.”

“...right. Well, we also have parents day, where trollings celebrate their parents and caretakers, and learn about their family history,” she explained. “Typically, the trollings practice their crafting by making simple projects with their parents in mind- as a teacher, I usually include little photos of their kids so they have keepsakes to look back on when their trollings start growing up.” She smiled, softly. “Some of my students have started creating fun frames for their photos to go in to give to their parents.”

“Oh, that’s really nice,” Bridget said, quietly. “I wish we had something like that, but I don’t think it would really work for most bergens.”

“We also have Interest Days, where, for a week, trolls can set up exhibits showing their different skills and interests to show the trollings what they could do in the future,” Poppy said, growing excited. “The last one was amazing! I think we have a trolling interested in following in Dr. Moonbloom’s footsteps!” She explained. “And I got to work with the librarian on setting up a few different stalls on the different types of scrapbooks- Keith got really excited about the fiction stories- I think we have a future storywriter on our hands!”

“Oh! That’s sweet!” Bridget said. “Maybe-”

“Oh! And we have Forest Day! Where we thank the forest for providing us with the food and shelter needed to keep our village alive! You could totally do something similar!”

Bridget winced, thinking of how careless bergens were with nature- the quarry to carve materials for the castle alone had ruined a lot of forest space. While they definitely needed to work on that, a holiday like that was probably not the best place to start. “I don’t-”

“And Hug Day!” Poppy interrupted. “Since we tend to take hugs for granted, we have a day where you only get to hug one troll! You have to be careful and deliberate with your hugs! You should totally join in!”

“Poppy, I don’t know-”

“And you totally need to celebrate Compliment Day! That’s when you compliment anyone you see as you walk around! And Prank Day! I always set up the best pranks! And you should totally-!”

“POPPY!!” Bridget had her eyes pressed closed, hands on her ears. “We are not you!! Bergens and trolls are so different! You can’t push your own celebrations onto us!” She opened her eyes, glaring at the small figure, but then faltered. The small queen had frozen, eyes darting up rapidly. Her tail stuck straight out, her ears pinned back and her hair puffed in terror.

“I-” she stuttered. “If you’ll excuse me.”

“Oh, Poppy,” Bridget said, quietly. She reached forwards, hesitantly, but the small, pink troll startled at the motion. 

They shared a heavy silence for another second before Poppy ran out of the room. 

“Wait! Poppy!”

—

Branch sighed, looking at the pieces of wood he had collected. He felt strange using Troll Tree wood for the project, but it had to be perfect. He had done practices on regular discarded wood he had in his bunker, but it was time to move on to the real thing.

He got distracted when a shadow flew by overhead. He glanced up to see a bright pink dot darting rapidly up the tree and looked to find Bridget standing nervously at the doors to the castle.

He looked between the two of them, before sighing and climbing the tree himself. 

“Your highness?” He asked, nervously. 

She startled, and he had to use his hair to catch her before she tumbled down from the tree. 

“I’m so sorry, Branch!” She blurted out. “I wasn’t paying attention!” Once she was settled back in her spot (and Branch’s pulse had slowed to semi-normal levels) she looked up at him curiously. “Is there something I can help you with?”

He glanced over at the castle, where Bridget was sitting, right in the queen’s line of sight. “Apologies, your highness. I was just… wondering what happened with Bridget.”

Her ears drooped, and her tail wrapped around her waist. “Oh.” She glanced up. “I- uh- I don't know…” The tree was relatively isolated from the hustle and bustle of Bergentown, but it wasn't perfect. She locked eyes with at least one bergen who was staring at her curiously. 

Branch glanced behind them, before sighing. “Why don't we go inside my old family pod?”

Poppy froze. “Are- are you sure? I mean, I don't want to intrude.”

He shrugged, before pointing right next to them. “It's fine, you actually landed on our branch.”

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry,” she said, quickly, clamoring to stand.

He shrugged. “It's fine, your highness.” He gestured towards the pod, and she reluctantly followed along.

It was a nice pod, and it made her feel off. There were color-coded items everywhere- mint green, dark green, purple, yellow, pink, and blue. The blue ones were typically the smallest of every collection, such as the small blue chair by the craft table. 

There were six chairs in the kitchen, surrounding an ornately carved table. She could still see the remnants of old stairs and burns forever etched into the wood. She imagined the mess it must have been, living with 5 other people. 

She looked over at Branch, and grieved for him. Going from a big family to none? From a cozy, macramèd pod to a cold, underground bunker? She wasn't sure if she hoped it has all happened at once, or if it had fallen away, piece by piece. 

“So,” Branch interrupted the silence, setting a glass of water on the table for her. “Would you… like to share what happened?” He tried.

She shrugged. “I- I guess I just went too far.” She sat down at the table, but stared blankly into the glass rather than drinking it.

Branch sat down next to her, looking at her with an open expression. She managed to hold out a bit longer, before she deflated. 

“We got to talking about holidays we have in Troll Village- and how they don’t really have any in Bergentown anymore. So, I started suggesting my favorite holidays for her to try, but-” She sighed, ears dropping even more. “I- she yelled at me. That bergens and trolls were too different.”

“Why’d she yell at you for suggesting holidays?” Branch asked, curiously. “Did she say something before that?”

“She-” Poppy paused. “I… don’t know. I just- I got excited and I talked too fast, and I don’t think I let her get a word in. ” she lifted the limbs, which shook from her stress. “It was- I was finally useful and-” she breathed a deep, measured breath. “And I guess… I just talked over Bridget- insisted she be happy my way.”

“Like you used to do with me?” Branch asked, pointedly.

The queen faltered, ears tilting back in shame. “Yeah- yeah, I guess so.” Her tail tightened around her middle, and she pressed her face down into her knees. 

Branch looked at her, at her drooping hair and body, and sighed. “But, you know what, your highness?” Poppy blinked in surprise, ears tilting up towards him nervously. “I- You only did it because you cared.” He crossed his arms, looking down at the tree below them. “I was at a point where I didn’t think anyone could care about me, but you did.” He glanced over and saw her teary eyes pointed up at him. “I- I just- sometimes, you can be a bit- …pushy.” He turned to look out the window facing the castle, where Bridget had sat herself in the doorway, knees pulled to her chest. “Not everyone experiences happiness the same way you do. Plus, some of us need a bit more time to get there. I know you mean well, but you have to slow down and listen.”

She nodded, after a second of consideration, and wiped her tears away. “I guess I have to go apologize, huh?” Poppy asked. 

Branch nodded. “Yeah.” He turned around and started shifting through some of the items he had gathered, apparently done with the conversation.

The queen paused, before letting out a small snort. Branch turned at the noise, eyebrows pinched in confusion.

“Should I have… not said that?” He asked, tentatively.

“No, it's just that-” Poppy paused, choosing her words. “Most trolls would try to convince me that I wasn't the only one in the wrong, or that what I did was okay, and I probably don't even need to apologize.” Branch tilted his head, ears tilting towards her in confusion. “Thank you for being honest with me- even if it did shock me.”

He shrugged. “I- sure?”

She stood, brushing invisible furs off her dress. “Well, I'm going to go apologize. Thank you for hosting me.” She paused, looking up at the troll before her. “And I’m sorry for being so pushy. I’ll try to listen better.”

“You already have, your highness,” Branch said, averting his gaze slightly. “And it was really no problem. It was my honor.”

She smiled a small smile at him, before leaving the pod, heading towards the Bergentown castle.

He watched her disappear with a longing sigh, before turning back at the mess of memories and keepsakes, staring at the daunting piles of stuff he had to go through eventually. It was his fault for entering the pod in the first place, though.

—

“Bridget?” 

The bergen looked up in a snap, finding her friend on the other side of the doorway she was sitting at.

“Poppy!” She said, kneeling down to be closer to eye level. 

“I’m so sorry!” They both said, at the exact same time. “Wait, what?”

“No, Bridget, I’m sorry I pushed so hard!” Poppy rushed out. “I was being a bad friend.”

“No, you weren’t,” Bridget said, softly. “I’m sorry for snapping at you when you were just getting excited to help me out.”

“But, I didn’t listen to you!” Poppy protested. 

“And I didn’t listen to you,” Bridget said, softly. “Our cultures are different, but it wasn’t wrong of you to try to share something that makes you happy.” She paused. “I- I wished you had talked a little slower, but…”

The troll queen winced, her tail shifting to wrap around her ankle.

“You told me about a lot of days where you celebrated and appreciated those around you,” Bridget said, softly. “And while those specific situations don’t really apply to us, there are some things we can celebrate.”

Poppy’s head tilted in confusion.

Bridget smiled sheepishly and pulled out a calendar. “Tomorrow, we’re having a celebration- Sandwich Day!”

“...oh?”

“I know it sounds weird to you,” Bridget started, nervously. “But, me and Grissy thought a couple scattered days surrounding various local foods could help people try new things and support small businesses.”

Poppy tilted her head in consideration, before nodding. “That’s pretty smart,” she noted. “I like that idea!”

“Thank you!” Bridget said, happily. “And… uh… we opened submissions for our people, but there is one holiday we officially declared will take place every year.” She flipped the calendar a few months before stopping. “Peace Day.” She pointed at the anniversary of the Last Trollstice- the day Poppy taught the bergens they could be happy without eating a troll. “We thought, maybe… it could be a joint celebration?”

Poppy reached out, cautiously placing her hair on the date on the calendar. She pulled it back, revealing the sticker she had left behind. “We would be overjoyed to join you,” she said, a small smile growing on her face. “I’m still sorry for steamrolling you earlier.”

“And I accept your apology, I know you didn’t mean to” Bridget said. “I’m sorry for snapping at you. You’re my best friend.”

“I accept your apology too, I know I can get over-excited sometimes.” Poppy said, curling her hair around her friend’s wrist. “You’re my best friend.”

A couple hours later, Branch arrived on the flyer bug to pick her up, and found them going through Poppy’s old scrapbooks as she recalled all the parties and celebrations she had hosted over the years. Bridget listened closely, commenting on how they might translate to bergen culture, which Poppy listened closely to in return.

Chapter Text

Well, that’s the fun part. You get to be free, and you move on with your lives together, finding your purpose with someone by your side.

—

Poppy's words bounced around in his mind ever since he had heard them. Branch had known his crush on her had been hanging over his head since he had realized it, years ago. At first, the thought that she hadn’t cared about him had minimized the crush-

He couldn’t really blame her: a little voice in the back of his head reminded him that he was gray- the whole village liked to avoid him and pretend he didn’t exist. Back in the tree, it was considered contagious, especially to the very young or old. (In all his years being gray, it had never once spread to anyone else. He started to wonder if that was a myth until the pot.)

Plus, he didn’t care for singing or dancing or hugging. Even with his colors back, he wasn’t a very touchy-feely troll, and he still loved his schedules. He liked doing work, because then he felt useful and helpful. Other trolls didn’t seem to like work at all, just counting down until they could have fun again.

In short, he understood why she wouldn’t have a crush on him, yet alone like him. That last year, and especially the escape, gave him hope, though.

He thought she was older, more established when she became queen. He remembered finding the 5 year anniversary card and thinking that she was maybe 22 or 23; 2-3 years older than him. Instead, she had been 17, 3 years younger than him. He only found that out this past year, after she had given him a personal invitation to her 20th birthday party 3 months prior. 

He was in such shock that he had just walked away with the card, not throwing it out or anything. From then on, she looked so excited to give him cards, he couldn’t reject them. (He ignored the pile of invites from previous parties already stored down in his bunker.)

So, he thought that maybe she had just been overwhelmed with her other duties and that was why she never visited him. Then, it hit him that she had become queen at 12 . He thought maybe King Peppy had died while she was young, and only then did it occur to her that she might not have known .

Her visits had increased exponentially since she had run into him during a berry run- the first time he could recall actually encountering her. She had seemed confused to see him, which hadn’t made sense to him at the time.

Then… the escape. His face flushed as he remembered everything he did and said. By the music he was a bad person. He acted like she was stupid, like nothing she did mattered. He had apologized, clearly and genuinely, when they had gotten back to the village, and told her he would help in any way possible.

Which led him to her pod, helping organize children’s activities as she took a (forced) small break. He decided to clear the air completely.

—

Well, if he doesn’t share your feelings, then… you kinda hurt for a bit. You feel sad, and you almost grieve what could have been. But… you get over it, and it stops eating you from the inside. You get to move on, living your life knowing it wasn’t meant to be.

—

“Hey… Queen Poppy?” Branch asked, nervously. She looked up from her scrapbooking with a curious face. “Can we talk?”

“Sure!” She sat up and closed the book, giving him her full attention.

He faltered. Even her patient silence made you feel heard and understood, welcomed and accepted. Before you even said anything! For an isolationist like him, it was overwhelming.

“I just-” He faltered. “I just want to say-” He faltered again, muttering to himself too quietly to be heard as he tried to figure out what he wanted to say.

Poppy, getting the feeling he was overwhelmed, glanced back down at her craft supplies, allowing him space, even as they sat across from each other. She had just picked up her scissors again when he spoke, and her attention shifted back up to him.

“I just wanted to say that…” he deflated. “You're doing a really good job with this diplomacy stuff.”

She smiled. “Aww! Thank you!” She picked up her craft supplies again, since he seemed infinitely more relaxed at his declaration. She poked him with her tail, playfully. “I haven't been doing this all alone, though- give yourself some more credit!”

He looked at her, softly. “Yeah, I guess.”

“ Branch… ” She chided, teasingly. She poked him again, and he batted it away. “Come on! You were a big help with the stealing issue! I had no idea what to do, since stealing isn't a thing here like it is in Bergentown!”

He rolled his eyes. “That's just because I'm more private than any other troll. My stuff is actually mine.”

“I have personal stuff, too!” Poppy protested.

Branch raised an eyebrow at her. “Then why is Cooper sleeping over in your bed rather than his own pod?” He pointed at the back of her pod, where the four-legged troll was sprawled, snoring. 

She shrugged. “He finds that bed comfortable. Besides, I'm not using it right now.”

“I would consider a bed a personal item,” Branch argued.

“Nuh-uh! My personal items are my crown, my hugtime bracelet, and my instruments-” She froze.

When they had returned to the village, her cowbell and its mallet had been disregarded next to her stage, dented and dirty. She had entrusted it to the village librarian for historical record, but hadn't even tried to play it again. Branch also winced at the reminder of what he had done to her ukulele.

“Queen Poppy?” She looked up to find him staring at her, nervously. 

She forced out a laugh. “I guess it's just my crown and my bracelet, now!” She joked, forcefully. “Speaking of!” She reached up her arm and grabbed one of the many bracelets on there, sliding it down and presenting it to Branch. “I made you a hugtime bracelet of your own!”

He took it, delicately. “You know, I'm not really big on hugs yet.”

“Oh,” she said, dejectedly. “I can take it back-”

“ No !” He winced at his sharp shout. “I mean, no, it's fine. I'll keep it.”

Her smile lit up the room. 

He could tell her tomorrow, he decided, looking at his new jewelry.

“Wait, did you take care of your hands while you made this?!”

“ Uhh.. .”

—

“Your highness!” Branch called, approaching Poppy. He thought it would be a good day to confess his feelings, and decided that morning to do it before he backed out again.

Said troll turned, her ears lifting. “Branch? What are you doing over here this early?”

“I-” he faltered. “Queen Poppy, are you okay?”

“Of course!” She said, her tail wrapping around her middle. “Why wouldn't I be?”

He just looked at her, before pointing at the limb wrapped around her middle. “You do that when you're upset. And your ears were lower than usual.”

Her smile twitched. “Branch, I have some matters to attend to. Could we continue this discussion later?”

His eyes narrowed. “Smidge told me you cleared out the next 2 hours this morning. I would think that meant you had some free time.” He held back the snappy response he wanted to say.

She shook her head. “Look, Branch, trolls will be milling around this area soon, and I would like to avoid talking about this in front of anyone else.”

“Okay,” he agreed. Her shoulders untensed. “Why don't you come to my bunker.”

“Wait, what?”

“No other trolls ever go there,” he pointed out. “So no one else will be around to hear anything. And, I can get you some breakfast, since you probably haven't eaten yet today.”

“Branch, I'm fine,” she protested.

He raised an eyebrow. “I never said you weren't.”

She froze, before deflating ever so slightly. “Only inside the bunker.”

He nodded, triumphantly leading her into the forest.

Only once she was sat down with a cup of tea in his lower level kitchen did he try to ask again. “Queen Poppy?” Her ears twitched, but she didn't look up from her tea cup. “What's wrong?”

It was silent, but for the steady drip of his tap. Actually, he paused, the tap wasn't leaking. He glanced back over at his guest, and the growing damp spot in front of her. She was crying .

Slowly, he sat down next to her, allowing their tails to tangle together. He grabbed the tea cup, which was shaking in her hands, and placed it back on the saucer.

“I'm a bad daughter.”

“What?” Branch spoke up, confused. It took him a moment to realize she had spoken, and then another to realize what she said. “Your highness, what are you talking about?”

“ Would you stop that?! ” She burst out, her tearful eyes lifting to glare at him. “I hate having to be ‘Queen Poppy’ all the time!” She furiously wiped at her eyes, but didn't move away. “You used to talk to me like I was normal - but now you're trying to be all polite and it feels wrong!! ” Slowly, she blinked. “No- I don't mean that, I'm sorry-”

“Okay,” Branch said, calmly. “Poppy, you're being crazy.”

Then, it was her turn to be shocked.

“You're an amazing daughter, even though I'm sure it's hard to be there for your dad right now,” he said. “So don't be stupid and call yourself a bad daughter.”

Hesitantly, she let out a small giggle. “You just called me stupid,” she pointed out. 

He nodded. “I did. Now, what brought this on?”

Her gaze fell again. “My dad keeps asking when he'll go home.” She wiped her eyes. “I’m always running around being ‘Queen Poppy,’ but I should be taking care of him, I should be doing more- ”

“Poppy, hey,” Branch interrupted. “What more could you even do?” She opened her mouth, but he continued first. “I mean, you eat dinner with him almost every day, despite your packed schedule, you talk to him every morning, no matter what's going on, and you're willing to deal with him tossing his clothes around when he thinks it might be helpful.”

“But, I can never bring him home ,” she said. “I lie to him, almost every morning, to keep going with whatever delusion he's trapped in at the moment. And dealing with his dirty clothes is probably one of the less gross things I've done for him.”

“Ew.”

Her eyes shot up with a glare. “Hey! You don’t deal with this stuff!” 

He raised an eyebrow, smugly. “You're right. You do.”

She froze in shock, before deflating again. “I yelled at him,” she confessed. “In the pot, I was just so angry-!” She choked out a sob.

“I know,” he said, softer than he spoke to anyone else. “I was there.”

His new bracelet chimed, and he opened his arms. Gratefully, she fell into them. 

“I’m- I’m so scared of losing him, but sometimes, I feel like he’s already gone and I’m alone.”

His confession could wait, he decided. Making sure she was okay was more important.

—

They ended up taking longer than two hours, sitting there and talking, but Branch felt like she needed it. As an apology, he helped her with her afternoon tasks (which was significantly more than he had ever expected). Her schedule was a mess . Sure, Smidge kept track of things for her, but that was about it. Branch decided she needed someone to organize her schedule for her, and volunteered himself for the task.

That was how he knew she didn’t schedule anything for a half hour after teaching the trollings every day.

He wondered if it was creepy for him to wait for her there to confess, but, being in charge of her schedule, he knew for a fact there wasn’t really any other time for him to tell her.

His hugtime watch chimed, and he settled in right outside the pod. She should be leaving any moment!

…

…

…

15 minutes later, he figured something was wrong.

Stealthily, he peeked his head inside the pod. She was sitting to one side of the pod as a different troll taught math to the trollings. Particularly, the older ones. The littlest of the trollings were sitting around Poppy, pestering her for stories.

“Come on!” One of them pleaded. “I want a princess story!”

“We have to be quiet, though, remember?” Poppy reminded them, her voice a whisper. If Branch hadn’t been used to listening for the slightest sounds of predators, he might not have even heard her. “You guys are supposed to be having naps so the others can learn math.”

“But they don’t like math!” A different trolling protested. “And I’m too old for naps!”

“Okay,” Poppy said, softly. “But I can’t do this every day. I’ll tell you the story of the wild princess.”

“Not Rapunzel?” 

“Or Cinderella?”

“Nope!” Poppy said, cheerfully. “This is a new story to you guys.” She pulled a scrapbook out of her hair, and began reading, her voice a steady cadence throughout. She did fun voices, pulling tabs on her scrapbook to more animatedly tell the story. The kids were enraptured, and they weren’t the only ones. 

At some point, Branch had transitioned to leaning against the doorway, watching her tell the story. 

Not too long had passed before a trolling from the math group noticed him. 

“Miss Poppy!” They called out, interrupting both teachers. “Mister Branch is here!”

The queen glanced up from her story, smiling lightly at him. “Is it time for my next event already?”

Technically, she had 10 minutes still. But, he cleared his throat awkwardly, nervous with all the attention on him. “Just about. You’ll need to wrap up your story soon.”

She nodded, but the trollings all began whining. “But Miss Poppy!”

“Hey, it’s okay,” she said, softly. “I can continue the story tomorrow if I can’t finish in time-” The trollings cheered. “- If! ” She intoned. “You guys are good during your afternoon lessons.”

“Yes Miss Poppy!”

She smiled. “And, in the meantime, I’m sure Mister Branch would be willing to help with the older trollings’ math lesson.” She sent him a look that was nothing short of mischievous.

Since the whole room had been staring since he had been noticed, there was no hoping the other teacher hadn’t heard her. He glanced over, and the older woman had the same mischievous face that the queen did.

“That would be wonderful!” She said. “Come over here, we’re learning multiplication.”

He sighed, but went along with it. For the next 10 minutes, he taught them math. They seemed to be paying attention pretty well, but one of them giggled every now and then, which confused him.

A small chime sounded, and the teacher clapped her hands together. “Okay, everybody! It’s time for singing practice!”

The kids cheered, immediately gathering into one group. As they began running through scales, the teacher approached Poppy and Branch, who stood together at the exit of the pod. 

“Thank you so much for sitting with the kids during your lesson planning time,” she told Poppy. “I know you probably don’t get much done…”

Poppy waved her off. “It’s fine! I love interacting with them!”

“At least you got a show this time,” the teacher commented, teasingly.

The queen laughed, lightly pushing her. “Come on, Branch,” she said, turning to face away from him. “What’s next on my schedule?”

“You have a ribbon cutting ceremony for a Troll Tree sprout in the northeast-most clearing of the village,” he rattled off, automatically. He followed her out of the pod and down to the ground as they walked towards the said clearing. “The gardeners of the village are hoping that growing this sprout will lead to natural pods and more protection for the village.”

She nodded, walking determinedly.

His thoughts of confessing were completely forgotten.

—

“Hey!”

Branch looked up to see Guy, Smidge, Satin, and Chenille sitting at the tables outside a café, waving. He glanced behind him, trying to see who they were waving to. 

“We're waving at you, idiot!” Smidge yelled.

Branch flushed, stomping over to the table. “What do you need?”

“We wanted to see if you'd want to join us?” Satin said, confused. She gestured to the empty chair at the table, making him shift from anger to embarrassment.

“Oh.” Hesitantly, he settled down in the chair. “What… what's going on?”

“We just get some drinks and chat,” Smidge explained, shrugging. “Anything new happening with you?” She raised her eyebrows mischievously. 

Branch tensed, sure she was implying something, but he wasn't sure what. “I- the fall fruits have started growing pretty nicely? They should be good for harvest in a week or so, which means I'll have some time to preserve them before winter.”

“Wait, don't they usually ripen next month?” Satin asked, head tilted in confusion. “That's usually when fall drinks hit the market.”

“Usually,” he agreed. “But I tried a more nutritionally-dense fertilizer, and they’ve been growing pretty well. If the harvest is good, I might suggest adding the fertilizer to the village gardens.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful!” Chenille said, happily. “I love fall drinks!”

“Yes, yes,” Guy interrupted. “That’s great and all, but I’m wondering why you’re not at the library learning event.”

Branch raised an eyebrow, sending him a confused look. “Why would I be? It’s for trollings and teens.”

“Because Poppy’s there,” Smidge said, as if that was explanation enough.

He sent her another confused look.

“Branch, honey,” Guy said, sipping his drink. “You follow her like a lost cuddlepup."

His face grew warm. “No I don’t!”

Across the table, Satin winced. “You kinda do.”

“It’s pathetic, honestly,” Chenille said, inspecting her nails casually.

“I think it’s cute!” Smidge protested. “And it’s convenient, because then I only have to find one troll instead of two whenever I’m giving out invitations.”

Branch blanched. “Is that why she keeps giving me my invitations?!”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you just didn’t want to talk to me!”

All four of their faces dropped. 

“Oh, no, sweetie,” Satin said, quietly. “It’s not that, we promise.”

“I was just trying to push the two of you together,” Guy admitted, without shame. 

Branch shot him a look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean,” Guy said, ignoring the warning looks the others were giving him. “That a confession clearly won’t happen without some intervention.”

“Guy!” Satin said hissed, scoldingly. “Don’t embarrass him!”

“I- I keep trying to confess, but stuff keeps interrupting me!” Branch protested. The others’ gazes shot over to him, mixes of shock and confusion covering them. 

Chenille in particular looked considering, before a smirk grew on her face. “It’s okay, sweetie. Just because you can’t do it doesn’t mean you’re not brave in other ways!”

He flushed. “I can do it!” He snapped. “It’s just-!”

“Really?” Smidge cut in, sarcastically. “Cause I think you just chicken out every time you see her.”

As his anger grew, so did the heat in his face. “If she walked up right now, I would have no problem telling her,” he hissed, tail snapping back and forth with his anger.

“Great!” Guy cut in, a smile on his face. “Because she’s coming this way!”

In a panic, Branch whipped around to see she was, in fact, approaching. She paused, though, when he saw her and froze, hair puffed and tail straight. When he didn’t move to run, she slowly approached.

“Is everything okay?” She asked, once she was close enough to be heard without yelling.

“Of course!” Satin said, smiling at her. “Take a seat!”

Poppy nodded, but didn’t move to sit. “Are you sure? Branch?”

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Guy said, a charming smile on his face. “He just has something he’s excited to tell you.” He paused, checking his own nails and fluffing his hair (lightly glancing his hand over the egg inside). “It’s not as exciting as me, but…”

Slowly, Poppy sat down, looking at Branch. “Oh?”

“It’s-” he floundered. “I- uh- I… found a good fertilizer mix?” He tried, scrambling for the first thing to come to mind. “It should increase crop yield and growing speed.”

She smiled. “Branch! That’s great! I was just thinking about that, with our growing population!” She gave him a quick hug, before pulling away. “Okay, I’m going to get something to drink, and then you can tell me about it, okay?”

He nodded, an attempt of a smile on his face that turned out to be more of a grimace.

As the door of the cafe closed behind her, his gaze shot over to the others, sharp glare on his face. “Don’t forget- I know these woods better than anybody, I’ve fought creatures ten times our size. I can very easily make it look like a very gruesome accident,” he hissed, under his breath. 

All four of their tails froze in shock, ears pinned back.

Then, the door to the cafe opened again, and all five of them shifted back to normal, casual positions. 

“So! This fertilizer!” Poppy said, not noticing any tension. She set down her cup and leaned her face on her palm, looking at Branch. “Tell me about it!”

He nodded, nervously beginning to explain his experiments with his own plants.

Every once in a while, the others sent a look at him and Poppy. Luckily (for them), she never noticed. 

—

“Hey, Branch?” Poppy asked, nervously. 

He glanced up from where he was organizing his supplies again. “Hmm?”

“Can we talk?”

“Is there a problem with your schedule?” He asked, turning to the table in his bunker, where she was sitting and looking at her schedule for the next week.

“Not really,” she said. “I was just… thinking about something.” Her tail curled around her wrist. “Could you… sit down for a moment?”

He complied, looking at her expectantly. 

Her hair, back to its normal length, twisted itself into a braid, untwisted itself, and then back again a few more times as she spoke. 

“I- I’ve been wanting to say something for a while, and I thought it’d be best to get it out there and say it,” she explained. “I don’t expect any particular response, I just wanted to say…” She took in a deep breath. “I have a crush on you, Branch. I’ve had a crush on you for almost a year now, I just wasn’t sure how to say it.

“The way you helped me during the bergen crisis, and have been trying so hard to help me out… You’re one of my favorite people to talk to, and I’ve had more fun being queen in these past few weeks with you than I have in years. I know you might not feel the same way, but I just wanted to tell you-”

“No.”

She faltered, her tail falling from her wrist. “Oh, I’m sorry-”

“That’s not-” Branch cut himself off. “It’s-” He struggled for words. “I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you about my crush on you for weeks!”

Her ears tilted in confusion. “You… have?”

He ran a hand through his hair in frustration. “Poppy, you’re so beautiful, and you care so much for everyone, whether I feel they deserve it or not.” He took a deep breath. “I’m the sky, and you’re my sun. Without you, I am an endless darkness. But you’ve shown me how to be blue again. You’ve given me rainbows . And even in your absence, the moon and stars shine so much brighter, knowing you will return.”

She flushed, brighter pink than she had ever been. “Now my confession feels dumb,” she said, sheepishly.

Branch put his hand on her knee. “I loved it,” he assured her, before his smile turned mischievous. “I just can’t help that I’m phenomenal at poetry and you’re not.”

She smacked his arm, face still incredibly flushed. “You’re so annoying!” 

“You know you like it,” he teased her.

She smiled at him, before her face shifted. “So… are we… dating?”

He flushed. “I mean, I would like to be?”

Her hugtime bracelet went off, and he opened his arms to her, which she fell into easily, clutching his vest as they hugged. 

“Muses, Guy is going to make fun of me,” they both muttered, before freezing and realizing what the other said. “Wait, what?”

Chapter Text

Poppy woke with a smile as the sun rose over the horizon. She threw a dress on, one of her nicer ones that she was still easily able to maneuver in. Then, she stepped over to her vanity, choosing a crown to match. 

The official-duty crown was too bulky for her to work in, but her princess-flower-crown was too simple for this. That was for foraging more than anything else. Then, there were a few random ones she had made when she was bored. Absently, she leafed through them, until she found one that she found was official enough without being big enough to get in her way.

She straightened her hair and brushed her fur, and then slid the crown and her bracelets over top. She took a moment to look in the mirror, catching on all the pictures of her friends she had pinned up, before turning and exiting her pod to start the day.

When Branch wasn’t already standing outside, she smirked.

—

Branch sighed as he sipped his coffee, traveling away from the main part of his bunker with a sigh. No matter how hard he tried, he was not a morning person.

Eventually, he reached the exit right under Poppy’s pod. There were some all over the village, just in case another attack happened. And yes, he checked them for critters. He didn’t want them collapsing part of the village because they decided to make his tunnels their new home.

He took one last sip of his coffee, before putting it in the chute next to the exit that deposited it back in his kitchen. He found the plants a couple years ago- some kind of bean that made you feel energetic even if you had no sleep. Of course, he turned it into a drink, and added sugar to make it more palatable. (Contrary to popular belief, he did not hate anything sweet. He wasn’t sure he would survive dating Poppy if that was true.)

He lifted the trapdoor, stepping out of his bunker.

In the morning sun, he closed his eyes and stretched, taking a moment to let it soak in. Then, the sun disappeared, and he confusedly blinked his eyes open.

“GOODMORNING!!”

Branch shrieked, falling backwards- almost back into the tunnel he had just emerged from- at the shock of his girlfriend hanging in front of him, mere millimeters away.

She laughed, catching him with a strand of hair, before letting go of the branch her hair had been clinging to, softly landing with her feet on the ground. “Are you ready for the day?”

He grumbled and glared at her. “Not as much as you, apparently.” Before, his coffee had been for emergencies. Since joining the queen on her daily duties, he found it almost a daily necessity.

She just smiled, carefree, and sang a starting note for the morning song. Trolls jumped out of bed to join in, all excited to start the day.

Poppy smiled at Branch as they went through the morning song with everyone, laughing and skating and having fun.

Once the song finished, everyone waved goodbye to her as they went back to their daily tasks. (Mostly singing, dancing and hugging.)

“Great job on the footwork, Cooper!” Poppy said, cheerfully. “Biggie, Mr. Dinkles! You were on fire out there!”

“Yeah, sorry about that,” Biggie apologized, casually patting out the fire on his pet’s head. “He just got a bit excited, you know?”

She waved him off, turning to another troll happily. “Your new anklet looks great, Legsly!” Said troll giggled at her, before stretching her legs as she walked away. “Your curls are so defined, Yarrow! It looks amazing!” A teenage troll blushed, burying their face in their curls as they gestured thankfully at the queen. “Spudsy! The harvests are looking wonderful! Those burble berries have been so helpful!” An older troll next to Yarrow waved her off, hobbling away to his next chore. “Satin! Chenille! Excellent work on those costumes!” 

“Aww, Queen Poppy,” Chenille said, batting her eyelashes. 

“You flatter us!” Satin added on.

Poppy continued to greet her people, Branch following along patiently. They had a half hour before they had to be at the ribbon cutting for the new booth at the market, since classes weren’t in session that morning.

Once she ran out of trolls to greet, Poppy stopped at a patch of flowers, frowning slightly at their wilted state. She grabbed a watering can from the ground and gave them some sparkle water. Immediately, they began to perk right up, which made her relax.

“Hey, Poppy?” Branch asked. “Can I talk to you?”

She turned, looking at him. “Sure! What’s up?”

He winced. “It's just- since I've been working on your schedule, I noticed that you don't really delegate anything?” At her confused look, he rushed to explain. “It's not a bad thing!” He promised. “I'm just a little confused- you do everything around town, even when you could probably send one of your friends.”

She shrugged. “I mean, sure, I guess, but they're not queen like I am. It's my responsibility, not theirs.” She frowned. “Sometimes… Creek … would help with things,” she admitted. “But it always seemed to turn into an even bigger mess than if I had just done it myself in the first place. Besides, I like what I do.”

He frowned, pulling out her schedule. “Well, teaching the trollings is probably the least specialized job on your list. Maybe we can start with having someone else cover that-”

“ Branch,” Poppy said, voice low. “Teaching the trollings is something I volunteer to do. Please do not remove that from my schedule.”

He hummed, and opened his mouth to continue talking when there was a scream from one clearing over.

They both dropped what they were doing and ran over, Poppy dropping the watering can aimlessly on the ground while Branch tucked the schedule back in his hair.

“Guy!!” Poppy yelled. “What’s wrong!”

“Queen Poppy!” Guy yelled, desperately. “It’s hatching!” He presented his egg, which had been incubating in his hair for a while. Sure enough, small cracks were forming along the shell.

Poppy screamed in joy while Branch and the rest of the present of the snackpack screamed in terror.

She rushed up, getting a closer look at the egg. “Come on!” She urged, excitedly. “Sit on the ground so it won’t fall off your hands!” She coaxed her friend, who was nearly hyperventilating in excitement and nerves, onto the ground, settling the egg down on his lap.

Guy had always talked big game, but then, when things actually happened, he was just as likely to get anxious as the rest of them. Poppy smiled at him, wrapping their tails together to try to offer him a touch of comfort.

“We've got so many outfits ready!” Satin said, excitedly.

Chenille nodded. “This is going to be the most fashion-forwards trolling in the whole village!”

“I'll be a really good role model!” Cooper promised, bouncing excitedly on his four feet. “I'm already practicing my ‘I'm not mad, I'm just disappointed’ face!!” He demonstrated the face, and Branch tensed.

“Don't do that,” he said, scoldingly. “It's… weird coming from you.”

“Okay!”

Smidge, meanwhile, paled. “I'm not ready to be a role model!” She protested. “I haven't even asked out that cute critternarian yet!”

Suki opened her mouth to speak when Poppy interrupted them all with a pointedly cleared throat.

They all flushed in embarrassment, looking back to the little egg.

The cracks spread a little more, before the egg suddenly burst open. The trolling was almost an exact replica of Guy Diamond.

Poppy cooed. Next to her, Branch winced at the glow of a baby glitter troll. Everyone knew they were at their brightest when they were just hatched, hence the phrase “bright as a baby’s bottom.” Branch, still adjusting to the brightness of the outdoors, found it to be less than a good thing. When he glanced to the side, he found Cooper sporting a pair of sunglasses he had gotten from… somewhere. 

“What should I name him?” Guy whispered, tone soft. He cradled the trolling to his chest, almost camouflaging him completely with their identical glitter coats.

“Tiny!” Poppy suggested, excitedly. “Tiny Diamond!”

Branch shot her an incredulous look.

“Tiny Diamond it is!” Guy agreed, happily. His face was a proud grin that lit up the grove more than his glitter did.

“Won’t that be an issue when he grows up?” Branch asked, confused.

The rest of the group shrugged. “He can change it if he wants to,” Guy said, nonchalantly, proud eyes still locked on his new baby. “Trolls can discover who they are at any point in their lives.”

“Yeah, like Satin and Chenille did,” Poppy added, voice soft, so as to not disturb the baby.

Before them, Tiny started wriggling, scrunching his face. Slowly, his eyes blinked open. Once again, he was an exact clone of his dad.

“Aww,” Poppy repeated herself, looking over her friend’s shoulder. “Look at him! We’ll have to announce him to the village soon,” she said, excitedly. 

Since they had escaped from Bergentown, it had become tradition for the king or queen to announce any trollings born in the new village, to inspire hope of their continued survival and prosperity.

Guy nodded. “He’s going to shine as blindingly as I do!” He said, near tears. Poppy carefully wrapped her hair around her friends’ as he cried, as close to a hug as they could get with his arms full.

She had just detangled herself when they were interrupted by another scream, which made the baby start crying. Branch looked up with a sigh. Trolls were very excitable, but it was getting a little ridiculous.

Poppy, meanwhile, took off in a sprint, searching for the troll who had screamed with her hair puffed defensively.

Biggie burst into a village clearing, disturbing a crowd of trolls, screaming and flailing. “ Help ! There’s a monster attacking me!” He cried out. “HELP!!”

“I got it!” Poppy called, reassuringly. She flung her hair, gently wrapping around the flying critter that had been pestering her friend. As she was retracting it, though, the critter flailed, managing to get a section of her hair tangled around its foot. It all went downhill from there. She very carefully tried to not panic and make it worse, but the critter was very much stuck and panicking in her hair.

“I’ve got you!” Branch yelled. With swift movements, he calmed the critter, restraining it and slowly detangling it from the queen’s hair. Within moments, it was clear the critter was some kind of albino bat critter with large eyes.

As he held it, Poppy walked over, picking something up from the ground next to Branch. The item was a scroll of some sort of black fabric, singed at the edges. She looked at it consideringly.

“What is that?!” Someone yelled, face disgusted as they pointed to the critter. The queen glanced up, quickly appraising the situation. 

“It’s some monster! ” Someone else wailed.

“Hey, guys,” Poppy said, calmly. “It’s okay. Yes, this thing looks different, but I’m sure it’s not a monster.”

“What did it bring?!” Someone yelped, desperately. “Is it a weapon?!”

“No!” Poppy said, quickly. “It’s just-” She paused, inspecting the scroll again. “I think it’s an invitation?”

The crowd immediately relaxed. 

“I love invitations!” Someone yelled. The rest of the crowd nodded in agreement.

(Poppy loved her people, but why did the most panicky of them have to always be by where the problems were? The critternarian would be perfectly calm, probably intrigued by the bat critter, but no, he was taking care of an injured puffalo on the other side of town. DJ probably could have taken a nap right there, but she was still over by Guy and his new baby.)

Poppy smiled reassuringly at the crowd, opening the scroll. “Barb, the Queen of Rock Trolls, announces her One Nation Under Rock World Tour. Bring your string to the biggest party the world has ever seen,” she read, confused. 

“Okay, guys, panic over,” Poppy said, with a serene smile. “I know there’s no troll in this village named Barb.”

A bunch of trolls began to laugh. 

“What does that even mean?!” Someone laughed.

Poppy rolled her eyes, putting the scroll in her hair. Branch stepped up next to her in confusion. “Are you sure this isn’t worth worrying about?”

“I’m sure someone thinks they’re very funny by sending this to me,” she affirmed, her tail swaying low on the ground. “Come on, I want to talk to my dad before the ribbon cutting.”

Hesitantly, Branch followed behind her as they walked to the elderly care pod. The rest of the village continued as normal, and Biggie got to meet Tiny Diamond. 

Once they were in an empty clearing, Poppy stepped up to Branch. “Keep hold of that critter,” she murmured. “You put in those defenses, right?” 

“Yeah?” Branch said, startling in confusion. “Poppy, what-”

“And everyone knows about the tunnels?”

He didn’t answer, getting in front of her and forcing her to pause her walk. “Poppy!” He burst out. “I thought you said this wasn’t worth worrying about?!”

She winced. “I never… said that…” She sighed. “While I would like for this to be just an invite to a big party, I have to be prepared in case it’s not. I refuse to let my people be hurt again.”

“Then why are we going towards your dad?” He questioned. “And not evacuating the village or asking everyone to prepare their defenses?”

“Branch,” she said, calmly. “While I hate lying to my people, you saw how they panicked when a strange critter showed up and tried to nest in Biggie’s hair. I have to figure this out first.”

“And you think your dad knows something?” He retorted. “Poppy, he calls you his nurse half the time!”

“I know!!” She burst out. “I know he’s losing his mind, but forgive me for hoping that for once in my life my dad will be there to help me out!!”

He faltered, allowing her to step past as she stormed towards the pod. A few inches away, she paused, deflating. “I’m sorry for yelling, Branch,” she said, quietly. “I just- it’s a lot right now- the idea that there’s other trolls out there? Who didn’t do anything about Trollstice?” Her voice had fallen to a whisper. “I’m hoping it’s just ignorance- that they mean well. But…”

It was silent for a moment. 

“Okay.”

Her ears twitched upwards as she turned to look at the dark blue troll. 

“Okay,” he repeated. “I’m sure she just- wants to throw a… uh- an underground party?” He tried, thinking over the wording of the card.

That made Poppy snort. “Branch, I love you, but you are really bad at being optimistic.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, well, one of us has to be.” She winced, and he faltered. He wrapped his tail around hers, nudging her towards the care pod again. “Let’s go talk to your dad.”

She nodded, but was quiet as they walked.

When they were almost within view, Poppy straightened her posture, lifting her ears. Branch winced, but didn’t fight her on it. 

One of the nurses caught sight of them, and waved excitedly, calling into the pod that they were there.

Poppy smiled, waving happily back as her dad appeared on the patio.

“Hello!” She greeted him. “How are you doing today?”

He hummed. “I’m doing well, thank you, young lady.” He glanced at the two of them approaching together. “Are you here to get your marriage officiated?” 

Both of them blushed. 

“No, we’re still just dating!” Poppy said, quickly. “We just came to have some brunch and chat!”

The old troll chuckled lightly, gesturing at the small table and chairs. “Well sit down, then! Tell this old king what he can help you with!”

“Well, King Peppy,” Poppy said, sitting. “We got a strange letter and we were hoping you had some information on it.”

“Oh?”

Poppy reached up into her hair and pulled out the scroll. “This strange critter brought it, but we’re not sure who Barb is.”

“Barb?” Peppy said, confused. “I can’t say I know any troll named Barb.” He took the letter, eyes skimming over the text. As he read, though, his face dropped. “This is dangerous!” He said, suddenly. He tried tearing the scroll, but the denim material was too tough. “You never saw-! Never! Never!” He began muttering, panicked. “We have to- we run- we have to hide!”

“Wait!” Poppy said, trying to calm him. “It’s okay!” 

“NO!!” He yelled back. “I have to find my daughter!! I have to protect her!”

With his yells, an actual nurse came out from the building, rushing to help calm him down.

Between the two of them and Branch, they managed to calm him down, but not without high stress. He didn’t remember what had happened to cause the panic, and Poppy didn’t want to risk re-stressing him by asking again.

The nurse took him inside to get some rest, and the couple both deflated at the tiny table. Branch wrapped his tail and hair around Poppy as much as he could while still holding the strange critter (which seemed strangely content to be held).

“Your highness?” The nurse said, nervously stepping out from the care pod. Poppy immediately straightened, looking at her. “I don’t- King Peppy just handed this to me?” She held out a small scrapbook scroll, browned with age. “I’m sorry he got panicked-” she said, once Poppy accepted the item. “-I know it can be hard to deal with.”

Poppy nodded, smiling softly at the troll. “Thank you. I’m glad you and the others are here to take care of him.” She raised the scroll. “I’m sure it’s nothing, but thank you for bringing this to me.”

The troll nodded, disappearing back inside. 

“What is it?” Branch asked, curiously. 

She shrugged, unrolling the item. It was a map, but the Troll Tree wasn’t listed. Instead, the area around it was labeled Pop Troll Forest. It was up to the northeast of the current Troll Village, where Bergentown now was, marked with red x’s. The ink on that was newer than the rest of the scroll. In the ocean was an area marked as Techno Troll Reef. To their north were mountains marked as Classical Troll Mountains. South of them was Country Troll Plains, then to their east was Funk Troll Path. Southwest of them all was Rock Troll Volcano.

“‘Barb, the Queen of Rock Trolls,’” Poppy remembered, quietly. “I don’t- I didn’t know there were other trolls.”

“What do you want to do?” Branch asked, quietly. 

Poppy looked at the map, tracing a path to the Classical Troll Mountains, the closest territory to theirs. Hopefully someone there knew what this all meant.

—

That night, Poppy wrapped up her duties, waving trolls goodbye. As the night settled, she crept out of her pod, towards the balloon bay. Flyer bugs were good for going to Bergentown, but she knew they wouldn’t last until the top of the mountains.

She packed food, gifts, and a few scrapbooks of their own history for reference. Most of their records pre-Trollstice were gone, but she was hoping these other trolls had historians or librarians who were able to keep those records intact. 

She eyed the small bat-critter she had taken from Branch earlier in the day, who was perfectly content to burrow in the small pillow she had placed in the basket of the balloon. She hoped, at the very least, she could confuse it by bringing it with her, so it couldn’t find the village again. 

However, she knew glowbugs had a better sense of direction than even the most talented trolls, no matter what they went through. She guessed if this was a messenger critter, it probably was similar.

She finished a note, sending it with a glowbug to be delivered in the morning. It would direct everyone on what to do in her absence, since she wouldn’t be there to do it herself. 

Any official business would need to be delayed until her return- she had made sure to announce Tiny Diamond that afternoon, so that wouldn't be delayed. The beginning of the extra pod project would have to wait until she could formally begin that- same with any renovations to the community pod.

Ideally, her people would be fine functioning without her for a day or two, but she felt bad leaving them behind on some dream-chasing.

Finally, she picked up her last bag (since she could only carry so much in her hair) and stepped towards the balloon with a sigh.

“And where are you going?” A skeptical voice interrupted her. She whirled around to find Branch leaning on a nearby tree root.

“You should be in bed!” She said, scoldingly. 

He raised an eyebrow. “So should you.”

“Branch, I need to find out about our history -” she pleaded. “-our culture. I'm the Queen.”

“Okay,” he said, with a shrug.

Poppy's tail swished defensively. “Look, being queen means having a lot of power, and it’s my job to use it for good. You can't fight me on thi- wait, what?”

He hefted his own bag onto his shoulder. “I said okay, you can go. But!” He held up his finger to indicate he wasn't done. “I'm coming with you.” 

“Don't you have stuff to do?” She asked, nervously. “I don't want to make you miss anything-”

“Poppy, I promise I'm not missing anything more important to me than you are,” he said, stepping up next to her and wrapping his tail around hers. “We'll find out the truth together.”

She winced, looking hesitantly up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

She held on for another second, before completely deflating. “Oh, thank the music, I did not want to go alone!” She leaned her forehead against his chest, allowing her to feel the shaking breaths of his chuckle. “I mean, these trolls might be different in ways I could never imagine! I'm terrified I'm going to say the wrong thing and offend someone!” She blurted out. “Differences make us special in so many ways! Like, just look at Legsly, and Skyscraper Troll, and Cooper, and you, and me, and-” she cut herself off. “And everyone!”

“And thank music for that,” Branch said, sarcastically. “Imagine if the whole village was just like you,” he teased, with fake disgust. She sent him a stink eye. “Who knows, maybe there's a whole city of trolls just like Cooper.”

Unknown to them, a certain four-legged troll had been walking by, and overheard their discussion that there were other trolls out there. He blinked, and hoped that out there, somewhere, his family was waiting for him. He loved Troll Village, but he wanted to find his history- his story.  

He snuck off in a different direction while the couple floated their balloon towards Classical Troll Mountains.

Chapter Text

“Branch, we don't need that manual,” Poppy said, flatly. 

They had flown for so long, it was already the middle of the next day. Even if they had needed the manual, it would have come up hours ago. 

The scrapbook was thicker than most baby scrapbooks, with detailed instructions and diagrams on how to fly the balloon with the highest amount of efficiency possible.

Her boyfriend scoffed. “Of course we do! You think a flying machine this complex can be flown without proper knowledge?” He hefted the item onto a small counter to the edge of the balloon, making a loud thud when it landed.

“Branch,” Poppy repeated, tiredly. “You wrote the manual. You don't need the manual.”

“Yeah?” He challenged, teasingly. “Then why is it here?”

She rolled her eyes. “ Because I was trying to leave you at home,” she replied. “And I was going to fly this thing myself. Since you're here, though, you can fly, so I don't have to listen to you complain about my flying skills.”

He paused. “Are you… actually upset about my comment on your flying skills?” He asked, nervously.

“What?” She said, still processing his words. Then, she realized what he said, and connected it to his comment when they had gone to Bergentown weeks prior. “No, I thought we were just joking around?”

He nodded, letting out a sigh. “Okay, I just wanted to make sure.”

She smiled, bumping up against his side. “I promise, I'll tell you if anything you say genuinely upsets me.”

“I'll hold you to that,” he promised in return. He glanced at the controls and frowned, adjusting their course slightly before turning back to her. “There… is something I wanted to tell you though…”

Her ears shifted to face him, while her head tilted in curiosity. 

He took a quick measured breath before speaking again. “That day, when we went to the troll tree? You know how I said I had to get something?” She nodded in understanding. “I- I was collecting fallen branches and discarded wood from the tree.” He started reaching up, but paused, pulling his hands back down. “I know it's not the same, and nothing could truly replace it, but I wanted to apologize and try to fix my mistake.” He took a deep breath, before reaching into his hair and pulling an item out.

Poppy gasped, looking at the new ukulele. Carefully, she took the item, feeling the grain of the wood and the tension of the strings. She hesitantly plucked a note, listening to it echo in the air. “Branch…”

“I know there’s still some time before you can really play it without breaking your scars, but I wanted you to have it,” he admitted. “I thought, maybe, in the meantime, you could paint the body?”

He tensed when she didn’t look up from the instrument, worried he had done something wrong.

“It’s- it’s not the same,” she said, quietly. “It’s not my dad’s. And- and I didn’t paint the last one.” Her tail wrapped around her waist. “But…” Branch’s ears rose in confusion. “It means so much to me that you carved me a new one with wood from the tree.” She cradled the instrument. “Can I- can I have time to process this?”

“Of course!” Branch rushed to say. “I just- yeah…” He fumbled to turn away. “We’re almost to Classical Mountains, anyways.” He stepped away, pretending to fiddle with the controls.

Poppy stared down at the item in her hands, half in shock. When she had visited the tree, nothing had felt very familiar. She was worried that there was nothing in her ancestral home that was comforting to her, but staring at the instrument- the grain of the wood and feel of the roughness under her fingers? It felt like home.

It felt like sitting on her dad's lap as he taught her how to hold it, how to press the notes, how to strum the strings. Though it wasn't the same, she found herself tracing the patterns of where the paint used to be. She remembered being too little to play herself, but poking out of her dad's hair to join in the harmony of the song.

She leaned her head against the frets, and began singing softly, just like she remembered doing as a baby.

Buenas noches

Pequeñita

Cierra tus ojitos ya

Que el arcoíris se ha ido a dormir

Y una estrellita estará

Pronto en el cielo esperando por ti

Esperándote para soñar

She continued on with the song, her voice just loud enough to carry over to Branch. His ears drooped as he listened to her singing, voice heavy with grief.

The second the first ukulele had left his hands, he had regretted it. No matter how angry she made him, he shouldn't have burned her stuff!

When she had said it was an heirloom, he felt even worse. He didn't have much left of his grandma- the stuff he got from her pod was the first he had had in over 20 years. He couldn't imagine what he would do if someone burned it.

He continued staring out of the basket, pretending he was keeping an eye on the horizon rather than avoiding watching his girlfriend cry over his own actions. 

Meanwhile, Poppy forced her tail to unwind, tucking the ukulele away for the time being. She… she needed it close, but she couldn't- it was hard to look at, at the moment.

She sighed, heavily. Behind her, something shifted at the motion, dropping something onto her tail.

She yelped, pulling it close and turning towards her “attacker” with puffed hair. In the front of the basket, Branch startled at her yelp as well, and the balloon caught a bad breeze and they were sent rocking.

Her scrapbook supplies and prepared snacks went tumbling as well, upending over the bat critter, who seemed less than overjoyed at being covered in glitter. Before the trolls could move to catch her, she fluttered off, heading home.

Poppy stared in shock as weapons tumbled out of a bin, upturned by the rocking of the balloon. “Branch..?”

Panicked, he steadied the balloon, before racing over and trying to hide the weapons in the bin again.

“It's nothing!” He said, quickly. 

She leveled him with a flat stare. “Branchifer?:

“...yes, Poppifer?” He tried to ask as casually as he could.

“Why did you bring weapons on my diplomatic mission?”

“It's- uh- they're… not weapons?” He tried. “It's… man stuff?” Her tail flicked, and he winced. “I'm sorry, it's just-” She narrowed her eyes. “I’d rather be prepared in case they’re not friendly.”

“And your hair won’t work because…”

He shrugged. “We don’t know what kind of weapons they have- if any of them are-” he glanced at her hair. “If any of them can cut our hair.”

She faltered, before deflating. “Can you at least secure them better?” She asked. “And hide them?” He opened his mouth to protest, but she held her hand up for him to wait. “Branch, I want to begin our relationship with these new trolls with mutual trust and connection. If we approach with visible weapons, that won’t be possible.”

He sighed, picking them up and putting them back in the basket. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay,” Poppy promised him. “I- I understand what you’re thinking.” She shrugged. “I would have brought some too, but I’m queen. And, I’m making the first contact with the other genres. Any bad actions on my part will reflect on our people. I’m fine being vulnerable if it’s for them.”

Basket newly secured against the side of the balloon basket, Branch shot her a look. “I’d rather you be safe- no matter what the other trolls may think.”

She puffed in slight defense, making him wince. “Agree to disagree.” She walked over and started straightening her supplies. She paused, though, when she stared out the other side of the basket.

“What?” Branch asked, confusedly, when Poppy stopped short. He turned the way she was facing and balked. 

The Classical Mountains were in flames, buildings crumbling and the air turned gray with smoke.

—

Hesitantly, he guided the balloon down, landing in a smoldering clearing. 

Poppy lowered the stairs, stepping out, looking around in horror. What had evidently once been beautiful towers laid in heaps of rubble and ash. Deep gouges cut into the ground and walls surrounding them, all lined with dying embers. A piece of paper with music notes embroidered on flew by, and Branch grabbed it out of the air.

“What..?”

“Are you friendly?!” A voice demanded from out of sight.

Both trolls looked around frantically, Branch grabbing a weapon out of his hair. Poppy gestured for him to lower it, though, and stepped forwards. 

“We’re friendly,” she said, reassuringly.

“But not too friendly!” Branch added, pointedly. Poppy sent him a glare, which confused him- they didn’t know who was talking, what if it was an enemy-!

“Why don’t you come out here?” Poppy said, voice calm and quiet. She got down on her knees, forcing her body language to be welcoming and open. Branch shot her a look, up until he noticed the troll peeking out from behind some rubble. 

She was tiny, about as big as Smidge. Her hair was a tangled nest of curls, remnants of a fancier hairstyle. She had tiny, feathery wings, which looked to be singed at the edges. Her eyes darted between Poppy and Branch, nervously. The ash on her face was streaked with tears. 

“Are you rock trolls?” She asked, nervously. Branch put away his weapon, but stayed standing.

“No, we’re not,” Poppy said, reassuringly. “Are you okay? Your wings look like they hurt.”

The girl’s wings fluttered nervously, and she shifted her weight between her feet, looking as if she wanted to fly away. Even still, she nodded.

“I know how much getting burned can hurt,” Poppy continued, lifting her hands to show her scars. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

The trolling’s eyes glanced back and forth at her and Branch again, lifting her head slightly in what Poppy could guess meant she was scared. She gestured for him to sit on the ground like she did, which he reluctantly followed. “This is Branch, he’s my boyfriend. And I’m Poppy. What’s your name?”

“...Pennywhistle,” she said, eventually. “You- you’re not here to hurt me?”

“No, of course not, sweetie,” Poppy said. “You know, I’m a teacher- would you like to see some photos of my students while I help your wings?” She pulled out a smaller scrapbook, flipping it open to a page in the middle. Slowly, Pennywhistle made her way over, settling in front of her to look at the pictures.

Truthfully, Poppy had no idea how burned wings worked. She pulled on the bit of knowledge she had from helping Milton with critters, but it was still pretty sparse. She touched them lightly with burn cream, trying to get the skin underneath- like when one of her trollings got injured on their head and she had to work around their hair. She made sure there was no bleeding, and then wrapped the wings in bandages to keep the moisture of the lotion in.

“Hey Pennywhistle?” Branch asked. Her eyes darted over in surprise, wings puffing slightly, making Poppy pause. “What- what is this place?”

She deflated, picking at her nails. “I- this is- was Symphonyville.” At their confused looks, she tilted her head. “Where us Classical Music Trolls live- lived.”

“I’m sorry,” Poppy said, quietly. “We don’t know a lot about the world. We were hoping to ask your people for help.”

“What happened to them?” Branch asked, quietly. 

Pennywhistle began picking at her nails again, head ducking down nervously. “Well, it was the most wonderful place you had ever seen. It was a place where all of us Classical Music Trolls could live in perfect harmony. Wherever the conductor led, we followed.

“Together, we composed beautiful music- all of us coming together for a shared symphony. I was learning how to play the violin, like my mom!” She grew excited, before deflating, wings pulling away from Poppy slightly to curl around her. The queen just shifted, still taking care of her injuries. “But- but then they arrived. She mocked us, and then- then they attacked. Their guitars were weapons, sending out waves of their terrible music.” She began shaking. “My mom had just hid me when they started grabbing everyone- taking them away to their crittervans. The Queen- she- she took our string . Our- our music. She took everyone . We lost everything .” She began crying, turning to bury her face in Poppy’s chest. 

The queen cradled the trolling gently, sharing a look with her boyfriend, who looked as horrified as her. Then, her gaze shifted just past him- to where words had been carved onto the walls of a destroyed building.

ROCK WUZ HERE

—

They brought the trolling to their balloon, giving her some of their food. She commented that the food was too sweet, but continued to eat it. 

Branch blinked in confusion, while Poppy was used to it from the trollings she taught. She just sorted through their supplies for some of their less sweet snacks for her. 

“How’s this one?” Poppy asked, handing over a grain snack.

The trolling made a face, but nodded, eating the food. “Your food is weird,” she said, nose scrunching. 

“Well, I like it,” Poppy said, absently. “So I guess I’m just weird.”

Branch shot her a look, but Pennywhistle nodded like that was a reasonable conclusion. 

“Look, Pennywhistle,” Branch interrupted. “We- we were wondering what the different genres were about.” He frowned when her wings fluttered. “Why is everyone separated?”

“I don't know,” she admitted absently, picking at her new snacks. “Our embroidery tells about how all trolls used to live together, but some great evil drove us all apart. Each genre took its own string- which holds all of our music- and ran! So, we don't talk to other genres to protect our strings.”

“What ‘great evil?’” Branch asked, eyebrow raised. Pennywhistle shrugged. 

“I don't know. Mom said she'll tell me when I'm older.”

Branch sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Thank you for sharing with us, Pennywhistle,” Poppy said, calmly. “We really appreciate it!”

The trolling blushed and nodded, averting her gaze. 

Poppy, meanwhile, had a good guess what, exactly, the ‘great evil’ was. Though they had finally made peace, bergens had been eating any trolls they could find for generations. It wouldn't be totally crazy for the other genres to isolate themselves in order to stop the bergens from finding their people. It didn't mean she wasn't bitter at the fact that none of them thought to stop Trollstice for everyone, though.

But it didn't matter. She had already stopped it, and now she had to stop Barb and her rock trolls.

The string Pennywhistle mentioning holding all of their music- it was probably the same string Queen Barb had demanded in her invitation. It must have been important, but Poppy couldn’t remember her dad ever talking about something like that, so he must have hidden it to protect it from the bergens.

“Do you think there’s any genres out there who might be able to help us?” Poppy asked, gently. “The rock trolls seem to be much more dangerous than whatever this great evil was.”

Pennywhistle shook her head. “Mom says that other genres don’t understand orchestra and chorus like we do. They all think of themselves first.”

Poppy frowned. She hummed in consideration before standing up. “Branch?” She asked. “Can we talk outside the balloon?”

He glanced at the trolling, still eating their food, before standing and following her.

“What’s up?” He asked, once they were out of earshot.

“I think we need to find the other genres,” she said. He opened his mouth to protest, and she held a hand up for him to wait. “I know she said they won’t help us, but at the very least, we can help them.”

He shot her a look. “And how do you suggest we do that?”

She pulled the denim invitation out of her hair. “We got this warning, but it sounds like the Classical Trolls didn’t. We can warn the others and help them defend themselves.”

“Or-” Branch intoned, grabbing the letter. “They did, but their leaders hid it just like you did. We need to go back- look after our own people first.”

“Branch, I understand where you are coming from, but I can’t sit by knowing there’s a whole world of trolls in danger out there,” she declared. “You are welcome to take Pennywhistle back to Troll Village, but I’m going to continue on.” She took the invitation back from him and exchanged it for the map her father had had. 

The next closest territory was- she traced the lines of the map- Country Troll Plains.

“I’m not leaving you,” he insisted, crossing his arms. “I won’t let you do this alone.”

Chapter Text

“What do we do?” Branch asked, frantically. “We can't just leave her!” He pointed over his shoulder, where Pennywhistle had settled onto a pile of fabrics and craft supplies, burrowing herself in as she slept.

Poppy sighed. “We don't have to wake her up,” she said, tiredly. “I can put her in my hair while we meet with the country trolls. I just want to let her rest for a minute more while I go scout out the town.”

They had arrived midday, the day after they had arrived at Symphonyville. Pennywhistle had been up most of the night with nightmares, but had finally drifted off just before dawn. Neither Poppy nor Branch slept through the night, but neither was about to go to sleep anytime soon. 

The two were standing next to the door of the balloon, sending each other narrowed eyes as both stood their ground.

“You’re not going to scout the village,” he stated. “We can- we’ll just stay here until she wakes up.”

Poppy frowned. “If Barb is coming, we can’t afford to wait,” she pointed out. “If I go and scout, we can be in and out faster than if we waited.”

“But if you get caught, you’ll be alone,” he argued. “You heard Pennywhistle, the other genres don’t really like each other.”

“That’s not what I heard,” she insisted, crossing her arms. “I heard that they isolated themselves and hid from a ‘great evil.’ That sounds kinda familiar, doesn’t it?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t- That’s not fair.”

She faltered, before nodding. “You’re right, I’m sorry,” she apologized. “I just- I don’t want to assume things of trolls I’ve never met. I just- I just want to at least give them a chance.”

It was silent between the two of them, before Branch sighed, deflating. “I know. I- that’s part of the reason I fell for you,” he avoided eye contact, tail wrapping around his ankle. “I just- I don’t want to lose you.”

Poppy deflated as well. “I- why don’t you come with me?” She asked, nervously. “We’ll be quick, and you’re pretty good at stealth, anyways.”

Branch sent one last look at Pennywhistle, before nodding. “Okay. Just in and out.”

—

Poppy was terrified as she approached the town, seeing no one going about their day, despite it being much too late for them to be sleeping in.

“...I guess they were already attacked,” Branch whispered, as if afraid to break the silence.

She shook her head. “No, no, it can’t be-”

“Poppy…”

“No, the rock trolls absolutely destroyed Symphonyville. If the country trolls are gone, it wasn’t them,” she argued. She crept closer, looking for clues without tipping off whatever sent the country trolls away.

They had just snuck behind some barrels when the big clock in town struck and someone slammed open a door at the end of the road, beginning to strut out.

Poppy barely withheld a gasp. “Do you think that’s what chased out the country trolls?”

Branch tensed, looking at the familiar face shapes and hands of these centaur-trolls. “I think that is a country troll.”

The troll’s lower half, rather than the typical two legs, consisted of a horse’s body and four legs.

In front of them, she opened her mouth and sang, strumming a guitar at the same time. As the song continued, others like her exited the building, joining in.

It was twangy, with different vocal intonations than they were used to. There were also significantly less background instruments- no synthesizer or anything.

When the last notes of the song rang out into the air, Poppy frowned. 

“That song was so… sad,” she said, consideringly. 

Branch shrugged next to her. “Well, life is sad sometimes. I kinda like it.”

Her ears lifted towards him in confusion. “You do?”

“Yeah,” he admitted. He turned to face her. “Do you… not like it?”

“Music usually makes me happy, but…” She frowned, looking down at the barrel she was hiding behind. “It-” Her tail twitched, as if unsure of what to do. “It reminds me of Trollstice,” she admitted, closing her eyes in shame. “And… Chef.” The idea of associating any music with that made her insides curl. The thing her people ran from- the thing she almost started again…

“Oh, Pop…” He reached to put his hand on her knee, but hesitated. “Is it bad that… that's why I like it?”

“No!” She rushed to say, startling them both. She forced herself to breathe, before speaking quieter. “No, of course not. It's…” She paused, trying to figure out how to explain it. “Music is from the heart. If that's how your heart is feeling…”

He retracted his hand, which had been hovering between them, and she felt like she had said something wrong. She reached out herself when a rope of hair wrapped around her waist and rapidly pulled her backwards.

On instinct, just like the time after the party when Branch had grabbed her, she swung at whoever had grabbed her.

As the troll stumbled back, she realized with horror that she had just punched the second in command, while the country troll leader was standing right there.

“Oh my gosh! I'm so sorry!!” She burst out, half in a panic. “I just felt myself being grabbed and panicked-!”

“I don't care,” the leader said, glaring. “Just what are you doing, sneaking around like a common thief?”

Her captor, still holding on with the hair from his mustache, grumbled at her.

“Hey!” Branch jumped out from the shadows of the barrel, startling the two country trolls. “Put her down!”

“Wait!” Poppy yelped, desperately. “Branch, hold on!”

The country leader lowered her head, hoof scuffing against the ground. “And who’re you supposed to be?”

“Your highness!” Poppy pleaded. “I promise, this is all just a misunder-!”

“‘Your highness??’” The centaur repeated, mockingly. “I didn’t get my job by coasting on my daddy’s laurels. No, I’m Mayor Delta Dawn, ‘cause my people chose me to lead them.” She narrowed her eyes again. “What genre are you two even supposed to be?”

“Uh…” Poppy said, nervously. If the map labeled their forest as “Pop Troll Forrest”... “I think Pop?”

—

They winced as the jail door slammed shut, echoing in the empty room. 

“Now you stay in there until I decide what to do with you,” Delta hissed, glaring at them. 

“Wait!” Poppy pleaded. “We’re not here to cause trouble! We’re here to warn you about the Rock Trolls!”

The mayor sent her an analyzing gaze. “Honey, I already know about ‘Queen Barb’ and her World Tour.” She scoffed, turning to walk away. “My people can protect our own.”

As she walked, a trolling poked out of her hair, twin braids sticking out to the side. “Ooh! You tell ‘em, Aunt Delta!”

“Wait!!” Poppy pleaded again. “In our balloon!” Any trolls still in earshot quickly covered their ears and steered their own curious children away. Wordlessly, she let out a noise of frustration, rubbing her hands over her face and head as she stormed over to the small bunk in the cell.

The dry air was not helping her hands, and she winced, pausing her motion to fold them onto her lap.

“You can say it,” she said, quietly. “You told me so. These trolls were hostile just because we were a different genre.” Next to her, Branch sighed, sitting down on the bed beside her. She tensed slightly, almost imperceptively. 

“...maybe,” he admitted. “But it was brave of you to give them a chance. They didn’t react immediately- only when you said we were Pop Trolls. I think there’s something else going on here.”

She sighed. “You don’t have to try to cheer me up. I got us dragged into this mess, and now I need to figure out how to get us home.”

“Oh, I already have an escape plan.”

“...what?”

Branch reached into his hair, pulling out a shovel. “These trolls have all their structures on the ground, so we just have to dig our way out.”

She stared at him in shock. “You figured this out in the single minute we’ve been in here?!”

“No, I planned this the second we saw the country trolls,” he admitted. He started digging, leaving Poppy sitting alone. 

She felt herself wanting to puff up defensively. She hadn’t even had a chance to try talking to the strange trolls while he was already making escape plans? She forced herself to deflate, though. It was just Branch. He was prepared for everything. It wasn’t anything against her.

“Do you have another shovel?” She asked, quietly.

He shook his head. “No. Besides, it would be bad for your hands. Why don’t you keep watch?”

Right. Her hands. She sighed, going over to the door. The door that everyone was avoiding. She sat with her back to the door, tiredly, and settled in to watch Branch free them.

Then, the door was gone, and she was tumbling backwards with a yelp.

“It’s not fair of them to lock you up just ‘cause you’re a different genre,” a new, smooth voice said.

Poppy scrambled up, Branch darting out of his hole behind her, both staring in shock at the new troll. 

He was a country troll, wearing overalls and a big hat. His fur was green, while his hair was a light orange color. He had slight hints of a beard, as if he usually shaved, but hadn’t in a while. He ignored their surprise, gesturing towards the door he had tied to his back like a sled. “Hop on,” the country toll told them. “I'm Hickory.”

Branch glared at him. “We're good, thanks.”

Poppy nodded, apologetically. “I would really like just to talk with Mayor Delta Dawn-”

“They're breaking out!!” Someone yelled. 

“They broke our jail!!” Another yelled. “Get those criminals!!”

“Congrats,” Branch said, quickly picking up Poppy, who squeaked, placing her on the door trailing behind Hickory. “You're our getaway driver. Now move!!”

“Branch!!”

He ignored Poppy as he dodged a thrown item and hopped on the door himself, just in time for Hickory to start running.

“Hold on!” The cowboy yelled. 

He dragged the door behind him as he left town in a sprint, heading out into the desert. Poppy cried out in alarm when she saw the approaching cacti, but their guide was able to avoid them with excellent mobility.

Unfortunately, so could their pursuers. 

“We need to get to our balloon!” She yelled at Hickory, trying to be heard over the wind. 

“Don’t worry,” he called back. “I’ve got this!” He didn’t seem to turn around though, and she wondered how much of her message got lost with the speed they were going. 

They just made it into open desert again when Branch yelped as something wrapped around his ankle, yanking him backwards.

“Branch!” Poppy yelled, flinging her hair out to catch him. 

The hold on his ankle was the country troll from earlier, using his moustache once again. He slowed, pulling backwards, while Poppy pulled on him in the other direction, making him the center flag in a tug-of-war competition.

With her second pulling backwards, Delta was able to start approaching Branch, reaching out threateningly. 

He closed his eyes and imagined what Poppy would do. “Wait!” He pleaded, opening his eyes back up. “Listen to me!”

“Why should I listen to a pop troll?!” Delta hissed in response. “Let alone a criminal?!”

“Please!” He tried again. “Syphonyville’s been destroyed!” Delta faltered in her sprint, before picking up speed, shock painting her features. “In our balloon! There was a trolling left behind! She’s injured!”

“Branch!” Poppy called desperately from the door. Branch glanced back at her, looking at the direction they were heading, the tight grip she had on the door to anchor them, before darting his gaze back to the country leader. 

“I know you don’t like us, but please protect her!” He pleaded. Delta nodded, and Branch moved. 

He reached down, shoving the lasso of moustache off his ankle, leaving behind an anklet Smidge had made for him a while back, sending him flying towards his girlfriend with the force she had been pulling with.

“Here we go!” Hickory yelled.

“Wait, what?!” Poppy yelled back, disoriented. 

Branch clutched her tightly as they went flying over the edge of a canyon. He glanced back once to see Delta Dawn staring at him, eyes narrowed. Then, he flung his hair out, wrapping the three of them in a hairball as they plummeted.

Chapter Text

Delta Dawn stared over the ridge where the trolls had just disappeared, taking the stranger with them. Her tail flicked in annoyance, eyes narrowed at the horizon. 

“Pete,” she ordered. Her second in command stepped forwards, grumbling. “Head back to town. Tell them to prepare for an attack.”

He grumbled at her again. 

“I need to check something out,” she explained, turning slightly away from the village, where the Pop Trolls had come from. They had seen the balloon landing nearby, but hadn’t cared much until the occupants acted suspicious.

As they separated, she kicked something up in the sand, making her pause. 

It was the woven band that had fallen when the blue troll freed himself, she realized. As she walked, she studied it. 

It was a lighter blue, a darker blue, and a yellow strand of yarn braided together, with a little charm in the middle. The charm itself seemed to be a tiny bow, which made no sense to her, but given the worn finish of it, it seemed to be well-loved. The ends of the string- just barely sticking out from the band- were frayed, further indicating a sense of care. 

She tucked it in her hair, deciding that, if she ever saw that troll again, she would give it back to him. Probably right before kicking him out of town. (A Pop Troll sneaking around never led to anything good, she had been warned, sitting around the fires and listening to her elders tell stories.)

Those two had done a good job of kicking themselves out, though, she mused. She had just gone to get a drink and think for a second when someone had burst in, telling her they were breaking out.

They were… interesting, she decided, seeing their balloon in the distance. She hastened her trot, remembering how he said there was a child in there. 

When she got close, though, she heard two voices, one familiar to her. 

The door was wide open, random stuff thrown out haphazardly, making her sigh. “Clampers?” She called out, slowing her speed as she reached the aircraft.

“Auntie Delta!” Her niece yelled, head whipping over excitedly. Another trolling was in front of her, and tensed when she saw the adult in the doorway. Clampers stood and sprinted over, tackling her aunt around the middle in a hug. “I made a new friend!”

“I see that,” Delta said, a smile on her face. “Why don’t you introduce us?” The trolling’s wings fluttered nervously, displaying bandages wrapped around them. “Oh, sweetheart,” she said, her face falling. “What happened?”

The small trolling winced, curling in on herself even more on the other side of the basket. 

“Pennywhistle, this is my Aunt Delta!” Clampers introduced, not picking up on the tension. “She’s the one teaching me to bake pie!”

“...pie?” Pennywhistle asked, nervously. “Like… tarts?”

“We have those too,” Delta promised, softly. “Would you like to come out of the balloon and try some?”

She shifted her weight, still nervously. “Where- where’d Miss Poppy go?”

“She went to stop Queen Barb,” Delta answered, hiding her uncertainty as best she could. “Mister Branch asked me to look after you.” Goodness, she hoped that was his name- she only heard it when the Poppy girl was shouting for him.

The trolling nodded nervously, but shifted to stand. 

“Ooh!” Clampers cheered excitedly. “Come on!” She climbed straight into Delta’s hair, the sheriff only shifting slightly due to her practice with her niece climbing in whenever she pleased. 

Pennywhistle, though, made a noise, her head reeling back in shock. “Are you in her hair!?”

Clampers poked her head back out, ears tilted curiously. “Yeah?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” Delta said, calmingly. “You can ride on my back if you’d like.”

She hesitated, but slowly approached. As she did, Delta was able to see past her, seeing stacks of food, supplies, and more than a few bound books. Given how colorful they were, she guessed they belonged to the Pop Trolls.

She’d have to send someone to collect them later- make sure they didn’t get ruined by the desert sands and sun.

With both trollings secure, she began trotting briskly back to town. 

Pennywhistle had looked a bit flushed, and she wouldn’t be surprised if the sun was getting to her. Plus, Delta had to help prepare their defenses.

—

An hour later found her sitting with the trollings again, getting some water for the three of them at the bar. The barkeep sent an odd look at the Classical Trolling, but didn’t say anything.

“So, Pennywhistle, was it?” Delta asked, setting down the cups. “Would you mind telling me what happened to you?”

She wilted, wings twitching nervously. “Miss Poppy and Mister Branch showed up after the Rock Trolls attacked. Miss Poppy didn’t want to leave me alone, so she brought me with them.”

“Okay,” Delta agreed. “And your wings?”

Pennywhistle shrunk even further in on herself, Clampers sending her a concerned glance. “They… the rock trolls burned them. Miss Poppy put something on it and it felt nice but…” She shook slightly, as if she tried to ruffle her wings. 

“Can I see?” She nodded, and the country sheriff made her way around the table, and began unwrapping the bandages. “What did you think of Miss Poppy and Mister Branch?”

“...they were weird.”

“Oh?”

She nodded. “Their food was all super sweet, and all their stuff was weirdly colorful. And- and Miss Poppy was nice, but she said that music should have words, which just doesn’t make sense!” 

The burns under the bandages, even down to the skin, were well treated. As far as Delta could tell, they hadn’t been particularly bad in the first place, but probably stung a lot. The feathers, though, were in disarray, tacky from burn lotion. Every winged troll who had passed through had insisted that wing care was of utmost importance- some insisting she needed to provide them protection from the sand. While those had been particularly demanding trolls, it seemed neatness was important for wing care.

“Well, our music has lyrics,” Clampers said, curiously. 

Pennywhistle hummed in confusion. “It does?”

Slowly, Delta tried laying the feathers flat, carefully getting off as much lotion as she could.

“Yeah! Some songs don’t, but some of our songs do!” 

“None of my songs have words,” Pennywhistle said. “Well… except for choirs.”

Clampers perked up excitedly. “What’s a choir?”

“It’s- well, for some songs, a group of trolls stand in the back, and sing an accompaniment together. All of them together add to the sound.”

“Like back-up singers?” 

“I- I don’t know?”

“Aunt Delta, can we show her?” Clampers asked, growing excited. 

“Maybe not right now,” she responded, looking down at the neat-er wings. “It’s too hot out for singing and dancing. Maybe at the hoedown tonight?”

Pennywhistle tilted her head in confusion, but Clampers grew excited. 

Delta patted her niece’s head, ruffling her hair slightly. “Come on, I got chores to do, and Moonshine can’t watch you two-”

“MAYOR!!” A voice called from outside in a panic. 

Her head whipped up just as the ground started shaking.

Clampers gasped. “It’s an earthquake!”

“They’re here!” Pennywhistle cried out, shrinking in terror. 

Delta’s face hardened. “Girls, get in my hair, it’ll be okay,” she promised. Clampers scrambled in without a second thought, but Pennywhistle was frozen in terror. “Sweetheart, I promise, no matter what, I will protect you,” Delta promised, kneeling in front of her. 

“I want my mom,” she breathed, tearily. 

Delta’s heart melted. “I know, I’m sorry.” The girl shook, but accepted help climbing into her hair, hiding and tucking her wings in close to her body.

Inside was roomier than it seemed, but she ended up sitting right in front of her new friend. 

“It’s going to be okay,” Clampers promised her, seeing her anxiety. “My auntie’s strong. Her hair is too! They can’t get us out of here if they tried!”

“But- but what about Miss Delta?” Pennywhistle said, nervously. “My- they got my mom. What if they get her too?”

“Then she’ll break her way out!” Clampers said. “Nothing can hold Aunt Delta back- that’s how she’s the mayor! She walked through a tornado without even losing her hat! She scared a rattler away with only a glare!”

“...I don’t know what that means,” Pennywhistle admitted. 

“C’mon Penny! My aunt will protect us, and then she’ll free your momma!”

The tension was broken by confusion. “My name’s Pennywhistle, not Penny?”

Clampers nodded. “Yeah, but I gave you a nickname! Like how we call Mr. Pete, Growly Pete! Because he’s always growling!”

Pennywhistle tilted her head in confusion. “Why’d you call me Penny, then? What does that mean?” 

“I dunno,” Clampers answered with a shrug. “I just shortened your name, since we’re friends now.”

“Oh,” Pennywhistle said, half in shock. “We are?”

“Yeah! And friends protect each other!”

—

On the outside, Delta winced once the trollings were safe within her hair. 

“Moonshine!” She barked at the barkeep. “Get your own little girl and get out of here!”

The woman nodded, and both of them ran in different directions.

Delta ran into the middle of town, where Growly Pete was standing, moustache at the ready. “What’s going on?” He growled, gesturing towards the sky. She looked up, faltering at the sight.

Flying towards town was a fleet of anglerbuses, dark in the bright day, but for the bright red accents. Smaller flyerbugs flitted around, like flies on rotting meat left out in the summer sun. The lead anglerbus opened its mouth, revealing a troll with a bright red mohawk. 

Even from afar, Delta could hear the lyrics echoing.

Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise

Playing in the street

Gonna be a big man someday

You got mud on your face

You big disgrace

Kickin' your can all over the place, singin’

We will, we will rock you!

She glared at the front figure as the other buses opened to reveal more trolls to join in the chorus and threaten the town. 

The country trolls all tightened their grips on their weapons, glaring down the invaders.

The lead troll, Queen Barb, finished the chorus with a flourish, leaning to stare down mockingly at the centaurs in front of her. “What, not gonna greet me with a song? I wanted to hear what the most depressing music in the world sounded like.”

“You’re not welcome in our town,” Delta declared, loudly. “So go on and get!”

“What did you say?” Barb mocked. She turned to her drummer. “What did she say? I couldn’t hear through that stupid little accent.”

Delta huffed, pawing at the ground and lowering her head. “If you think my people are surrendering to you without a fight, you’ve got another thing coming.”

The rock queen began laughing loudly. “Sure hope not! I was looking forward to having fun!”

Chapter Text

The two pop trolls broke the surface of the river with a gasp. Branch quickly grabbed Poppy under the arms, pulling them both onto the small shore.

She stumbled onto her hands and knees, coughing up water onto the sands.

Branch wrapped her hair in his to hold it up, one hand on her back to offer comfort as she panted out her breaths. “I got you,” he promised.

Once her breathing was steady again, she turned to face him, pressing their foreheads together from the proximity. “Thank you,” she whispered. “I’m so glad you came with me.”

He blushed. “Yeah, no problem.”

Her expression held for another moment, before it fell as she remembered something. “I- Pennywhistle-”

Branch winced. “I- I asked Delta Dawn to look after her.”

She blinked up at him in confusion. Slowly, she stood, Branch supporting her at her elbow as she shook. The hairball had protected them from the initial impact, but did not stop them from being tossed by the waves. Her hands… well, they didn’t hurt, but they definitely didn’t feel right. “But- how?”

“Whoo!” Hickory called climbing out of the river further down. Poppy’s face immediately shifted into a calm mask, positioning herself so she stood a little straighter. He trotted over to the two, dripping wet. “That was fun! Too bad denim takes forever to dry!”

He made a face before shaking himself out, sending the water flying at Branch, who glared at him.

“Thank you for getting us out of there,” Poppy said, diplomatically. “I don’t know how we could repay you.” She blinked, before smiling at him. “Oh! Do you like gumdrops?”

He sent her a confused look. “Gum-what?”

She pulled out a little container of them. “Gumdrops! They’re made by dropping the sap of a gum tree into a bowl of sugar!”

“Oh,” he frowned, consideringly. “That sounds pretty sweet? May I..?” He gestured to the container, and she nodded. He took one, nervously glancing at it before popping it into his mouth. Almost immediately, his eyes widened. “Oh, wow,” he commented. “Got a bit of a zing to it!”

“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Branch said with a scowl, stepping between the other two. “It’s question time.”

Behind him, and to his own left, there were two chimes of hugtime bracelets. 

“Hugtime!” Behind him, Poppy gasped excitedly, bouncing on her feet with restraint to not tackle both of them right there. 

He sighed, turning around to give her a quick hug, before turning back to the confused centaur. “Why are you helping us?!” He hissed, puffing up slightly. “What’s in it for you?”

“Branch,” Poppy said, voice slipping into a warning tone. 

He sighed heavily, remembering the discussion about first impressions. He stepped back, allowing her to step forwards. 

Hickory easily met her where she was at, and they both turned to walk down the riverbank, Branch grumbling as he trailed behind them. “I loved your message about music bringing Trolls together,” he said. “You may be Pop, and I may be Country, but… Trolls is Trolls.”

Branch rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything. Poppy glanced back at him, and he gave her a small thumbs up before she turned back. “This is the beginning of an alliance between Trolls that’s going to save all Trolls!”

Hickory leaned in, shooting her a smirk. “You’re darn skippy.”

She found herself flushing slightly, pulling out her map. “We have to get to the Funk Troll Path before Barb,” she declared, scanning the map.

“Wait, I thought we were going home?!” Branch demanded, stepping up to them.

“I-” She pulled him away, sending a serene smile at Hickory. “One moment!” Once they were out of earshot, she turned to her boyfriend. “You said the country trolls were being weird, and here’s a country troll who’s not!” She said, pointing at the centaur. “We should still try to help these Funk Trolls!”

He sighed. “Fine.”

She smiled, bouncing back to their guide. “So, Funk Trolls?”

He sent her an endearing smile. “The fastest way is down the river,” Hickory commented, tracing a path. “I’ll build us a raft.”

Branch stepped up to Poppy as the centaur departed, crossing his arms. “This guy probably doesn’t know the first thing about building a raft,” he muttered. 

There were noises of hammering and sawing from around the bend of the river, and all of a sudden, a two-story raft was drifting towards them, the familiar centaur at the helm.

Branch flushed, crossing his arms tighter.

“Would y’all like a drink? I got an espresso machine,” he called, lifting a mug in the air.

Poppy grinned. “I don’t know what that is, but yes!!” 

Branch followed behind her, hesitantly. 

—

They learned very quickly that Poppy should not have espressos. She got all energetic, blabbering and practically climbed all of the ship for maybe one full minute, before suddenly passing out in Branch’s lap for about an hour. (During which, he ran his hand through her slightly-curled hair, trying to keep it from drying weirdly. Definitely no other reason.)

The blue troll had demanded the ingredients, which the other had easily handed over. The smell reminded Branch of his coffee, but that didn’t make sense to him, since he didn’t have nearly the same reaction to the drink.

Branch conducted some tests once she woke up, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary other than her energy levels. 

Even still, he insisted on being the one to prepare dinner, rather than Hickory. The centaur sent him a look, but relented, stepping back once the fire was lit. It was somehow built with pieces of driftwood they had fished out of the river and a few sticks they had brushed past. Branch had expected it to not burn, since the wood was wet, but it was holding up pretty nicely.

He sat on one side, tending the flames and poking the food he had set to cook, while Poppy sat on the other, nearly falling asleep as she watched.

“Anyone want something to drink?” Hickory asked, standing up. 

“No espresso!” Branch snapped, quickly, glaring at him.

“Course not!” The centaur said quickly, holding his hands up in surrender. “I got some water and juice, though!”

“I’d like some juice,” Poppy agreed, yawning.

He nodded. “What flavor?”

“She’ll have cherry,” Branch interrupted. “I’ll just have water.”

Poppy blinked her eyes open curiously at her boyfriend, disrupted from the sleepy lull she had fallen into. When he didn’t move, she turned to Hickory and smiled politely. “Thank you so much for this,” she said.

He waved her off. “No problem, really.” He walked to the back, disappearing behind the walls of the first story of the ship.

Once he was out of earshot, Poppy glanced back at her boyfriend. “Branch?”

“Doesn’t he feel… off to you?” He ground out, poking the fire probably a touch more aggressively than needed.

She tilted her head, tail settling low on the ground. “No, why? Did you feel something off?”

“No, I-” He puffed up slightly. “I just don’t trust him.”

“But you don’t trust anyone?” She asked. “Is there something specific..?”

“I trust plenty of trolls!” He argued, in a whisper. “I just don’t like that you’re putting so much trust in him!” He snapped.

On the other side of the fire, Poppy puffed defensively in return. She could defend herself, thank you very much! Branch trusted her to break into Bergen Castle, but now trusting a fellow troll to guide them was too much? What could have possibly changed?! (Other than the fact they started dating-)

He winced, though, when he saw her puffed hair. “Wait, no that’s-” He faltered, shaking his head. “Do you…” The both of them felt like the boat was swaying more than usual, and their eyes were struggling to stay open. “...you hear that..?”

A smooth melody drifted over to them, and they turned to see a troll floating towards them. He was purple with dark red hair, which billowed around him. He had a very styled moustache, and was playing some type of instrument. On his chest was hair shaped into a heart.

Poppy giggled, feeling like she had drunken more espresso. “Look at that guy’s… guy’s… …chest hair…”

Branch giggled as well.

—

Poppy sighed, contentedly, looking up at the stars. They were laying on a limb of a tree, right near the top, blanketed in a soft nest of leaves, looking up at a clear night sky.

“You know, that one’s the guiding star,” Branch said, pointing up at the brightest star in the sky. “Old stories used to say that, generations ago, there was a group of trolls wandering the forest, lost in the dark. One of them, a glitter troll, climbed up a tree and then into the sky, trying to find the way home. She couldn’t get back down, but she could lead her friends back.”

“I like that story,” she commented, sleepily. She curled up, half wrapping herself around her boyfriend. 

He hummed in content agreement, wrapping around her in return. “I think it’s sad, though.” She hummed sleepily in curiosity. “Sure, the troll was able to guide her friends, but she could never go home herself.”

“I think it’s a good ending, though,” Poppy disagreed, softly. “I know I would do the same thing if it meant saving my friends. And then, I could be at peace, up in the sky, watching over the world, forever.”

“I think I’d rather have you here with me,” Branch said, clutching her. His grip was very tight, but she felt soothed regardless.

“I think I’d rather be here too.”

—

“...’n sstayth mme…” Branch muttered, slurring his words together. He slowly blinked, before coming back to his senses. He wasn’t on a treetop- he was still on the raft. It wasn’t Poppy holding him, it was- 

He glanced across the fire quickly, finding Poppy just as tied up as him. 

“...Brnch..?” She muttered, deliriously, before her senses seemed to return to her too.

“Gotcha, Pop Babies,” a sultry voice interrupted. They both glanced over to find the floating troll from earlier on their boat, glaring at them. “You’re mine now.”

“Not so fast!”

All three of them glanced up in shock to find Hickory bursting out from hiding, stance squared and head lowered.

The floating troll snorted. “And who are you supposed to be, Cowboy Pants?” Both Poppy and Branch whipped their heads up at their guide, who didn’t seem too offended by the comment.

“Name’s Hickory,” he introduced himself, flatly. “And I’m not a fan of Smooth Jazz.”

The other troll snorted. “You just haven’t had the Chaz Experience,” he taunted, raising his instrument to his mouth again. He began playing again, this time the waves of sound focused on the centaur. 

Both Pop Trolls tensed, waiting for Hickory to fall under the spell too, watching the stranger float around him. 

Once he was directly behind him, though, Hickory’s back hooves shot out, slamming into the guy’s chest. As he tumbled, he made an impressed noise, sending a quick glance at the other before tumbling into the water. The instrument, caught in the crossfire, flattened under the force.

That made the troll react in anger. “You won’t get away!” He yelled, losing his sultry smoothness. “Smooth Jazz will not fade away!”

He sank into the water, growing smaller as their boat drifted further and further away.

Hickory pulled the gumdrops out of his ears, revealing the secret to avoiding the hypnosis. Branch wasted no time, though, breaking his own bonds with his teeth, before pulling out a knife to cut away the ones on Poppy. 

“Who was that?!” She asked in alarm. 

“Chaz, the Smooth Jazz Troll,” Hickory said, gathering up the bits of rope. “One of the many bounty hunters after you guys.”

The two pop trolls glanced at each other in confusion, before Poppy spoke again. “What… is a bounty hunter?”

Hickory paused, before turning to her in shock. “What do you mean?”

“What do you think we mean?” Branch snapped. “We’ve never heard of such a thing before.”

“Sorry,” Hickory said, sheepishly. “I just- my brother talked about them all the time. Kinda forget not everyone is as familiar with them as we are down in the Flats.”

“So?” Poppy asked, curiously. “What can you tell us?”

“Well, there’s a couple main groups,” he explained. “But most subgenres have at least one group representing them.”

“Mhm, mhm,” Poppy agreed. “And what’s a subgenre?”

Hickory sent her a look, finding Branch staring at him with the same confused expression as he was wearing earlier (that is to say, a very angry one). “Genres that aren’t one of the main 6?” He said. “Like, Jazz, Blues, Folk, Punk…”

“Okay, but what does a bounty hunter do?” Branch asked, pointedly. 

“Well, they find trolls for a price,” Hickory explained, slowly. “I know Miss Delta sent some after some troublemakers in her territory a good while back.”

“So why are they after us?” Poppy asked, confused.

“Well, Barb probably wants you and your string,” he suggested, shrugging awkwardly. “I mean, that’s my guess. They’ll probably try anything they can to get to you and your allies.”

“By the music!” Poppy cursed, startling him. She looked up at Hickory with a panicked expression. “Are- are they going to go after Pennywhistle?! Since she traveled with us?! We found her in the wreckage of Symphonyville, she’s still a trolling-!”

“What?” He said, as if the thought hadn't even occurred to him. “No, ‘course not!” He denied, quickly. “They may be a rather rude bunch, but they wouldn't hurt a trolling!”

She nodded, relaxing slightly before glancing back up at the centaur. “...what about you?” She asked, nervously. His head ducked down, avoiding her gaze. “Will they be mad at you for helping us?”

“Miss Poppy, I'll be okay,” he promised. “I just gotta get you to where you need to go.”

She nodded again, this time much less certain. That wasn’t a no.

“Come on,” Branch interrupted. “You need sleep. I’ll keep watch.”

Carefully, he placed his hand on her elbow- avoiding touching her hands at all- and led her to the back of the ship. She sent one last look at the centaur before allowing herself to be led.

—

The next day found them floating serenely down the river, Branch standing at the helm, pretending to steer. All they were really doing was following the current, so there wasn’t really any reason to be up there.

Poppy sighed, her gaze falling and settling on the instrument in her lap. While they were traveling, she had decided to try painting her new ukulele. She got out her paints and brushes, set the uke on her lap, and froze.

What if she messed up? What if her painting wasn’t perfect? There were no redos- whatever she did was final.

“Miss Poppy?” A soft voice called out. 

She startled, before turning to the centaur. “Hickory! Sorry, I was just so lost in thought.”

He settled down next to her, legs folding underneath him. “Want to talk about it?”

She huffed, glancing balefully at the instrument she couldn’t play yet. “Not really.” There were songs she could have sung, but she couldn’t find one that fit her exact feelings- the complex tangle that they were. Some chords, though…

“May I?” He asked.

She blinked in confusion for a moment before realizing he was looking at her uke. She tensed, her grip tightening on the neck. “I’d- I’d rather not.”

He blinked, before nodding, face flushing slightly. “Course! No problem,” he said, quickly. “Sorry for asking. It must have been a bit of a shock.”

Her ears twitched and her head tilted, turning slightly to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, nothing, I swear,” he said, sheepishly. “It’s just- you probably aren’t used to having to share much. I mean, with your bodyguard following you and being there to do everything?” He sighed, sadly. “Must be nice being queen…”

Her tail froze, her ears swiveling as if searching for something to say. “Wha- I don’t have a bodyguard?”

His head tiled in confusion. “No?” He glanced back at the helm, where Branch was still stationed. The blue troll noticed the glance and sent a glare at him. “Then..?”

She followed his gaze, before flushing in embarrassment. “Oh! No! Branch is my boyfriend!”

“Oh.” He frowned. “Wouldn’t you say that’s a bit selfish?”

“...what?” She asked, her tail wrapping around her wrist.

He didn’t notice. “Oh, well, I just mean forcing him to come when he clearly doesn’t want to. I- no offense, but you should try doing things yourself sometime. Might make you a better queen.” He smiled sheepishly at her again, before getting up and walking to the back of the boat, starting the espresso machine.

She wanted so badly to be mad at him, but- but he was just being honest. She was being selfish by dragging Branch with her. She was queen- he wasn’t. She was supposed to be strong, lead alone, like her dad always insisted. Slowly, she tucked her instrument and paints into her hair. Here she was, taking leisure time while literally coasting on the boys’ work!

Instead, she moved to stand when she heard a shout.

She glanced up, hair puffed, to see Branch looking behind her. She spun on her heel as Hickory came galloping out of the galley, shock on his face.

Approaching her was some sort of large bubble.

“I’m coming!” Branch yelled.

-with your bodyguard following you and being there to do everything?

“No!” She yelled back, quickly. “You keep steering! I’ve got this!” She flung her hair out, sharpened to a point to pop the bubble. It just glanced off the edge, though, knocking her off-balance slightly.

“Poppy!”

The bubble was close enough that she just reached out and punched it. 

Unfortunately for her, it went through the outer membrane. Then, the rest of her was quickly grabbed, being picked up and carried away.

As she floated, she saw similar bubbles grabbing Branch and Hickory.

She closed her eyes and struck the bubble, but it didn’t do anything. Then, a dark shadow fell over her, and she looked up to see some sort of sequined space-ship, a hatch opening on its bottom for her bubble to enter.

Chapter Text

It was only dark for a moment, before the world was lit up again, this time by lights inside the strange floating ship.

Poppy looked around at the trolls- who all looked more like Cooper than anyone in their village ever did. Some of them walked on two legs, using their front legs as hands, while some of them walked on four legs like he always did.

They had the same furrier bodies, though, and longer necks. Many of them accentuated their long necks with metallic bangles- much more delicately crafted than anything she had seen in Bergentown.

All around the ship were bright, flowing colors in curving patterns. There were buildings and roads and stages- the main stage occupied by a group of trolls performing a song which echoed through the space.

It reminded her of her own music, but more… connected? A lot of their music was just dance music for the sake of dancing, but this felt more like dance music for the sake of… storytelling?

Before she could ponder it for any longer, they were once again greeted by darkness, before the tube carrying their bubbles opened into a sparsely-decorated space.

Branch and Hickory landed first, both face-planting into the ground. Poppy, meanwhile, used her hair to catch herself and flip right-side up, so she was standing.

“Welcome to Vibe City,” a voice said, from out of view. “You are cordial guests of Prince Cooper.” The troll the voice belonged to stepped into their line of vision. 

Poppy stared in confusion. This troll looked like Cooper- same shape, same coloring, similar faces- but Cooper’s hair was usually in thinner twists than this troll. The strange troll also had jewelry and adornments that Cooper never really seemed interested in. But… the face..?

“Over here, Queen Poppy!” A familiar voice called out from behind her. She whipped around to find Cooper standing there. She glanced between the two, trying to figure out what, exactly, was going on. 

Hickory exclaimed in distress, rearing up onto his hind legs, while Branch blinked slowly. “Maybe the Jazz hasn’t left my brain yet,” he muttered, shaking his head as if to dispel the music. 

“Meet my twin brother!” Cooper said, body wiggling. The doppelganger circled the group to stand next to him, bumping their shoulders together. “Turns out, I’m actually from Vibe City!”

“‘Sup,” the other troll greeted. “I’m Prince D.”

“Cooper, this is so exciting!” Poppy said, tail swinging happily. 

“Yeah,” Branch agreed, his voice thin. “Being reunited with long-lost siblings sounds wonderful. How, exactly, did this happen?” 

Prince D shot him a look, but didn’t comment. [Poppy, internally, remembered the pod with 6 chairs. How at least one of them was probably a sibling of Branch.]

“Well,” Cooper said, unaware of the atmosphere of the room. “It’s a very long and complicated story…”

Cooper’s parents sat on an outside balcony of the ship, looking out at the land passing below. Tucking in their hair was each one egg- both identical. The couple was talking softly when there was a cry from behind them, and they turned just in time to see an approaching bird. 

The critter managed to pick up his mother, carrying her away. The jostling dislodged the egg from her head, and it went tumbling down towards the earth. The Funk Trolls attacked the bird with their flying saucers, and were able to free her, returning her home, but Cooper’s egg was lost in the process. 

Luckily, the trees of the forest gently carried his egg down to the ground, right in front of some scavenging trolls. The trolls quickly brought the egg back to their village, and the village accepted him as their own once he hatched.

When he heard Poppy and Branch talking about other trolls, though, he knew he had to try to find where he came from. While he was walking in the desert, the ship picked him up, and he was finally reunited with his birth family.

“...and that’s the story,” he finished. He frowned slightly. “Well, I guess it wasn’t too long of a story.” He perked up, darting past the travelers. “And this is my mom and dad!” He introduced. The two leaders of the band that was playing when they arrived stepped forwards, soft smiles on their faces.  “Queen Essence and King Quincy!”

Poppy immediately straighted, ducking her head. “Your majesties,” she greeted. “Thank you for allowing us into your ship.” Branch didn’t move, arms crossed as he appraised the situation.

“I’m sure you don’t have to do that,” Cooper said, dismissively. “Mom, Dad, this is the Queen Poppy I was telling you about! And that’s Branch!” 

Essence smiled at them, grin dazzling. “Certainly not!” She agreed, kindly. “My son tells me the two of you saved his life on many occasions. If anything, I should be thanking you,” She bowed her head.

Poppy flushed. “Oh, no, it was no problem, really. Just doing what any troll would do!”

“It was more Poppy than me,” Branch argued. 

Poppy discretely hit his leg with her tail, telling him to knock it off. “Anyways, I’m so glad you found your family, Cooper!” She said, trying to change the subject. “Does this mean you’re a Funk Troll?”

He shook his head excitedly. “That’s the thing! I can be both Pop and Funk! You’re not forced to be just what you’re born to be!”

“Oh..?”

“Yeah, like how I’m Hip-Hop!” Prince D added, as excited as his brother. 

A puzzled expression grew on her face, and she mouthed the word- words?- Hip-Hop to herself. She pulled out her map. “I apologize, but that’s not a region on my map,” she said, scanning the six identified areas. 

Prince D whistled, impressed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen something that old. It must have been from after the first split!”

She glanced up at him, hopefully. “Is there a more recent copy I could see?”

“Sure, but it won’t show you my genre,” he said, smiling smugly. “I made it myself.”

“This is great and all,” Branch said, pointedly. “But that’s not why we’re here.”

“Right!” Poppy said, quickly flushing and tucking the map away. “We’re here because of Queen Barb. If we can just unite our music, then we can defeat her!”

The king and queen both froze, glancing at each other. “No disrespect, Queen Poppy,” Quincy said. “But, royal to royal- anything but that.”

She faltered. “But… why?”

He pressed a button, unveiling a door in the middle of the wall. “Let’s tell ‘em how it was, Prince D,” Quincy said, leading them into a monochromatic room.

The teen nodded. “Sick!” He sobered immediately, turning to the Pop Queen. “Long ago, our world was without song or dance. Then the Trolls found the strings, and life was one big party.”

“Oh yeah,” Poppy noted, absently. “I’ve heard of this story before.” From a trolling, but still. She was curious what they would say about it.

“That is…” Prince D said, sending her a pointed glance. “Until the Pop Trolls tried to steal our strings.” Both the king and queen sent her meaningful looks, as if searching for an expression on her face.

“...steal your strings?” Poppy asked, confused. “I- are you sure?”

D nodded. “Let me tell you how it really went down.”

He kicked off a song, all about how the Pop Trolls were the ones to break the peace, how ‘you’ were the one to do it, dancing around Poppy. 

She felt guilt consuming her. It wasn’t the bergens. It was her people’s fault. “Wait-” Poppy said, quietly, once the song ended. “So, the separation- the isolation- it was all the Pop Trolls’ fault?” Trollstice was her people’s fault. If they had been united, they wouldn’t have been taken. They wouldn’t have been caged and eaten for hundreds of years-

“That is correct,” Essence said, softly. Her eyes scanned the young queen, who seemed to be running through her thoughts a mile a minute. Her disapproving face had morphed into pity, which Poppy didn’t love either.

Next to her, though, Prince D scoffed. “Did it say something else in your history?” 

Frantically, Poppy shook her head. “No, it didn't say anything! I thought-!” She burst out in a panic. “Music!” She cursed. “Was it just lost, or was it purposefully hidden?! I should know our history- I'm the Queen!!” She looked up at the other royals, whose faces conveyed shock. “I- I'm so sorry about that outburst-” she rushed out, face burning pink in embarrassment.

“That's quite alright,” Quincy reassured her. He eyed her consideringly. “I imagine this information was quite a shock, if you've never heard the story before.”

She nodded. “Yeah,” she agreed, quietly. “But- but that’s in the past. Right now, we need to come together.” She straightened, standing more royally. 

“Queen Poppy,” Essence said, firmly. “Denying our history does not heal the wounds it leaves behind. We can’t trust you to not hurt our people again right now.”

“I- I’m sorry, I hadn’t thought about it like that,” she admitted, quietly. She taught history for a reason- this was their history, like how Trollstice was hers. It felt- …impossible for her ancestors to have done to others what the bergens would do to them. But…

The funk royals glanced at each other, but before they could say anything else, a cover fell down over the string and an alarm started sounding throughout the ship.

“They're here!” Quincy yelled.

Essence's expression firmed, and she began commanding her army to their battle stations. 

Poppy, Branch, and Hickory followed along, trying to figure out where they could be helpful.

“Cooper!” Poppy yelled. “Where should we-”

“I'm sorry, your highness,” he said, interrupting her. He tapped something on a keyboard built into the floor, and all of a sudden, they were in bubbles, being ejected from the ship.

They were helpless, spinning around. Hickory's bubble bounced off of Poppy's, sending him flying into the clouds. 

She was helpless as the ship powered down, and the fleet of rock trolls approached.

“No!!” Poppy yelled, watching as the Funk Ship was taken over. She hit her fists on the bubble, but was unsuccessful. “I have to get back up there!!”

“Poppy!” Branch yelled from near her. She didn't look, though, banging on the walls of her bubble, despite the sting it caused her hands.

By the time they landed, and were released, she had managed to tire herself out, staring blankly at the newly emptied sky.

“Poppy!” Branch repeated, running up to her. He grabbed her hands, though her eyes stayed locked on the sky. “Barb's made it clear she's looking for us, and as Queen, you're more important. You need to hide,” he ordered.

She unfroze and turned to look at him. “No, Branch, I have to go help them!” She protested.

"No, you don't,” Branch said, trying to be gentle through his clearly wavering patience. “Trust that someone else will be helping, but you need to take care of yourself right now.”

She shook her head, tears building in her eyes. “No, Branch, I have to help them! I need to get back up there-!”

“No!” Branch snapped. She looked at him in shock. “The world doesn't revolve around you!! Let someone else handle this!!”

Slowly, she extracted her hands from his. “I know the world doesn't revolve around me,” she said, coldly. “But I’m queen. I’ve been training for this my entire life- I feel like I’ve proven myself at this point. I can’t expect someone to come hold my hard everytime I’m feeling sad or nervous! I’ve gone through so much of my life alone!!” She yelled at him, her eyes growing misty. “I can handle the ‘hard jobs’ alone perfectly well!!”

Branch's face grew angry. “You want to do this alone?!” He snapped. “Then fine!!” He turned and began storming into the reeds.

He ignored the quiet “But I don't want to do this alone…” as he walked away. He was too angry to be around anyone.

Poppy sank to her knees once he was out of sight. She didn't want to drive him away, but he just didn't get it. He lived alone- liked being alone- responsible for himself and no one else. But, now she was truly alone. She buried her face in her hands, feeling her ears droop and her tail wrap itself around her stomach. She pressed hard enough into a ball that she could feel the scars on her hands being stretched.

She felt she deserved it.

Chapter Text

On the other side of the reeds, Branch sighed, regretting his anger. He stepped out into the river, considering his reflection. He sighed, and began singing a song about Poppy, the very troll he had just left behind. 

He couldn’t pretend he didn’t love her. He knew she was just trying her best to do right by as many people as possible, but sometimes, it felt like her own life didn’t matter to her. Her well-being, her feelings, her relationships. It hurt to see her act like she didn’t matter. 

He finished his song just as his hugtime bracelet chimed. He glanced down at the flower, turning to where he had emerged from, wishing he was back with her. But, he needed to cool down before he even thought about that. 

He turned back to look at the lake, but was stopped by something grabbing onto his legs and pulling him backwards.

He was tied up with some pink, shiny ribbon, and found himself face-to-face with equally-shiny trolls.

“We are the KPop gang,” one of them declared.

“Are you Poppy?” The leader demanded. 

“What? No!”

“Then you’re going to take us to Poppy,” another demanded.

From behind Branch, different music played, and three trolls appeared from behind some plants. 

The two leaders locked eyes. “Not so fast, Tracy!” The KPop leader declared. “We’re taking him.”

“It’s pronounced Tresillo. He's coming with us,” the leader said. “I can't live without my precious Reggaeton.”

“And we can't live without KPop!” The other group protested.

“Fine, then,” Tresillo said, challengingly. “Dance off. Winner gets to bring him to Barb.”

“What?!” Branch exclaimed. He was ignored.

“Deal.” The KPop group agreed.

Branch blinked as a scrapbook-like cut away flashed in his mind (Poppy’s fault) of the two leaders preparing to fight with a dramatic background behind them.

Then, he was spinning as he was suddenly freed. In confusion, he went to make a break for it, but was quickly grabbed by the leader of the KPop trolls, who paused dancing with her girls to glare at him in a way that reminded him of Poppy when she was truly angry.

Deciding that he valued his life, he threw on a fake smile and joined the dance as best as he could.

The dance had a lot of the basic moves that Pop music did, he found, but it was so much more exact, and they moved as a group, rather than a bunch of individuals. He was running purely on instinct as he moved with them, but it worked, and they struck a pose as they finished the song segment.

Then, he was being pulled again, this time over to the Reggaeton group. This time, he didn’t even try to run, and was just swept up in the song. Their moves consisted of more torso movements than Pop, matching the heavier bass line. 

Their final pose, though, included him retied in the KPop group’s shiny ribbon, which somehow shocked him. 

“Respect,” the leader of the Reggaeton group said. 

The KPop leader nodded as well. “Why don’t we split him?”

Both groups smiled at the compromise, growing excited and chattering to each other.

“Wait, wait, wait!” Branch pleaded, shuffling his way away from them. “Who says Barb gets to choose what music stays?” Both groups turned to send him looks. “If we work together we can save all music.”

The leaders sent each other a glance, before the Reggaeton troll nodded at him. “Alright Pop Troll, we’re listening.”

—

Poppy buried her head in her knees, words echoing through her head. 

But I don’t want to do this alone!

That was the real crux of the issue, wasn’t it? When did it become a sign of weakness for her to seek out others? She was the one always telling others that there was no shame in asking for help, but there she was. 

She had tried, before, when she was just starting out, but… everyone had always been too busy with their own things. If she needed something to get done, she had to do it-

…alone.

She wanted to pull out her new ukulele, but she knew it would break her scars if she tried to play it. Plus, it felt like a betrayal to Branch, since he was the one to give it to her.

She wasn't sure how much time passed before she heard her name being called.

“Miss Poppy!?” 

She looked up quickly to see Hickory galloping towards her. She winced internally, but stood gracefully, forcing her ears to perk back up and her tail to unwind.

“Hickory!” She called back, gratefully. Despite what Branch thought, Poppy did not entirely trust this troll. She didn’t particularly want to be spilling her guts to anything with ears. (She wished Branch was still with her.)

The centaur troll slowed to a trot as he got close, eyes narrowed in concern. “Did you lose Branch? I saw y'all's bubbles heading in the same direction.”

“Oh, no, we just had a disagreement on how to proceed from here,” she said, diplomatically. 

“Miss Poppy,” Hickory said, gently. “I can see the tear tracks. You can talk to me.”

“No, there’s more important things right now,” she said, trying to subtly wipe her eyes with the backs of her hands. “We need to stop Barb. Who knows how many strings she has now.”

“At least yours is safe, right?” He tried to comfort her.

She shifted, awkwardly, letting out a forced laugh. “Well…”

Hickory’s eyes narrowed. “Miss Poppy?”

“I don’t, exactly… know where it is?” She admitted. At the centaur’s shocked face, she rushed to explain. “I’m sure it’s safe! My dad probably hid it somewhere where it’ll be safe and protected! And then he… forgot where.”

“Can’t you just… ask him?” He prodded.

She shook her head, defeatedly. “He barely knows what year it is,” she muttered. 

Hickory frowned. “It’s important, right? And he would have hid it somewhere where he knew it would be safe?” She nodded. “Is there anyone he would trust with the protection of your people’s music?”

“Well, not really,” she muttered. “Just…” She froze, looking down at her collection of bracelets. She pinched the one right above her hugtime bracelet- a simple braided band her dad had given to her when she was 10. One of the strands of the braid immediately unraveled, glowing pink. “...me.” She frowned at it. She wondered why he hadn’t been able to trust any of his friends with it, though she felt honored by it at the same time.

He had told her that the bracelet symbolized the connection between her and their people- the promise to take care of them and keep them safe like she and them were one in the same. The braid was made of individual pieces, all coming together into one bracelet. He had said there was one strand for her friends and family, one for their people, and one for their music. She hadn’t understood it, but now it all made sense.

Hickory blinked in surprise. “Miss Poppy,” he said, quietly. “Listen to me- take that string and run.”

She froze in shock. “What?” She thought he was going to repeat Branch’s speech of her being too important, but he didn’t. Instead, his back hooves started moving strangely. 

“Look, I can’t explain, but you need to run right now,” he insisted.

“Hickory, are you okay?” She insisted. “I don’t want to leave you alone if-”

Before he could reply or she could move, a hand erupted from his middle, making her scream in terror. His back half split from his front, revealing a whole other troll. 

“Hickory?!” She yelped in fear. “What-?!” She was completely lost on what to even ask.

“Go on, Hickory,” the other troll mocked, in a German accent. “Show her what you really are!”

“Dickory,” Hickory protested, half-heartedly. Even still, he complied and pulled off the denim overalls the two had been wearing, revealing lederhosen and cloven hooves.

“You’re the yodelers?!” Poppy exclaimed in shock. After the lesson on bounty hunters, she had found some magazines in the back, detailing the different groups. She had never expected…

“You’re darn skippy!” Dickory mocked. He let out a loud yodel, which Hickory hesitantly finished. 

“And you're planning to give my string to Barb?!”

“Someone get this girl a strudel for the correct answer!”

“And you’ve been back there the entire time?!” She continued, bewildered.

Dickory’s face dropped. “Next question,” he ground out.

“Miss Poppy,” Hickory interrupted. His country accent had fallen away, leaving only his own German accent. “We had to do it, to protect our yodeling. But, you need to run-”

“No!” His brother protested, lunging for the Pop Queen. He managed to grab one end of the Pop String. Poppy resisted, clutching the other end. Her hands stung from the grip she had and the friction of the string being pulled. In the middle, Hickory grabbed the string, though he didn’t pull one way or another.

“Let go!!” Poppy demanded, holding tight to her string.

“Nein!”

Their tug-of-war stopped as trolls grabbed Poppy from behind, pulling her back. Dickory grinned at the string in his hand.

“I thought I heard yodeling.”

Poppy looked up to see a troll with a bright red mohawk strutting towards them. She had warm-gray fur and sharply pointed ears. Her pupils were slits in her bright-red irises. Her tail swayed smoothly behind her head.

“Queen Barb!” Dickory greeted, holding out the string. 

Barb strutted over, sparing a glance at Poppy, before she burst out laughing. “This is who I was so worried about?!” She laughed. “You’re just a little pipsqueak!”

Poppy growled at her, her tail thrashing behind her.

“Wow!” Barb exclaimed, mockingly. “You’re practically feral!”

“Let me go and I’ll-!!” Poppy thrashed, almost pulling away from the trolls restaining her.

“You’re feisty,” Barb mocked. “I like that, strong woman to strong woman.” She turned, running a hand absently along her guitar. “You know who else was feisty? Pop Village.” She shrugged nonchalantly, smirking all the while, showing off pointed canines. “Had to even dig some of 'em out from the ground- your whole people must be as feral as you.”

Poppy froze in shock, realizing what Barb was implying, before she flung her head forwards, looping her hair around the Rock Queen’s throat, pulling her own head backwards to tighten her hold. The trolls holding her frantically tried to pull her back, but she held on, anger filling her veins. 

Barb moved, and then there was a chord from her guitar, and Poppy was suddenly falling backwards. 

She felt herself slipping back to the party- to the bergen attack. Her hair suddenly giving away as it was chopped off, the pieces falling to the ground aimlessly- it all sent her back in time. She was barely aware of her physical body being shoved around, put behind bars once again, separated from everyone she loved and cared about.

“Wow, just gotta give you a trim, and you go all quiet?”

Poppy looked up at the mocking voice, finally recognizing Barb in front of her. She glared, but didn’t answer. Slowly, awareness came back to her.

Her cage seemed to be a tooth on the upper jaw of some sort of skull. Various instruments and equipment pieces littered the area, though there were no trolls there tending to them.

She brought a shaking hand up to her head, feeling her hair. More than before, when it felt uncomfortable, this hurt. Her hair was maybe as long as Bridget’s, proportionally. She felt exposed and vulnerable.

“So, Popcorn, is being my best friend everything you could have ever dreamed of?” Barb continued, mocking her. Her tail was once again swaying smoothly.

“I am not your best friend,” Poppy hissed. (Though, something in the back of her mind pointed out to her that it wasn’t the first time someone claiming to be her best friend had hurt her.) 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed!” Barb sent her a pitying face, which made her tail thrash in anger once again. “I get it, being queen can be kind of lonely. There’s all this pressure to be a great queen, but no one ever tells you what that means.” Poppy froze and looked up at the other queen as best she could. Ignoring her captive, Barb walked to the gaps between the teeth making up the stage’s skull, looking out over the crowd of trolls chanting her name. She frowned, tail slowly lowering to the ground, running a hand along her arm. “And instead of real friends, you’re just surrounded by people who just tell you what you wanna hear.” Poppy opened her mouth to say something, but before she could talk, though, Barb turned back, a mocking smile on her face, and eyes returned to a dangerous slit. “You know, other than your terrible taste in music, and clothing, and general lifestyle…” She leaned on the edge of the cage, eyeing Poppy’s look disdainfully. “-you and me are the same, Popsqueak.” 

“No we’re not.” Poppy ground out. She wanted to reach through the bars, but her hands stung, and she knew she would break the scars if she did.

Barb, waved her away. “We’re both queens who just wanna unite the world,” she argued. Her tail began to sway lazily.

“You don’t want to unite the world,” Poppy yelled at her, face tight as she remembered the destruction of Symphonyville. “You want to destroy it!” 

Barb scoffed, walking away from her. In the back of the skull, two trolls approached, holding an instrument case. “Nuh-uh, no way, no,” She said, untruthfully and mockingly. “I don’t know who told you that.” She opened the case, revealing a guitar with five red strings. She pulled out the Pop String, letting it fall in with the others. “Music has done nothing but divide us. Now that I have the final string, I can make us all One Nation of Trolls Under Rock.” 

Poppy faltered at the display, tail nervously wrapping around her ankle. “What are you going to do?” She questioned, fearfully.

“Play the Ultimate Power Chord, and then…” Barb laughed as the jaw of the skull began to lower. “You’ll see!”

Chapter Text

The Rock Trolls all began to cheer as Barb landed on the stage, launching into one of her more known songs- Barracuda- with her regular guitar.

After the finale, the guitar with the genre strings lowered in a bolt of lightning, landing in Barb’s hands. 

“Everyone give it up for your former leaders!” Barb shouted. As she pointed them out, spotlights lit up the pillars in the middle of the lava moat. “Funk! Techno! Classical! Country!” The leaders all stood, defiantly glaring at her. “And worst of all!” Alone above the stage, Poppy’s cage turned, so the opening faced out towards the audience. She blinked in the bright lights. “Pop.”

The rock trolls in the audience booed, making the Pop Queen flinch.

Barb angled the neck of the guitar at the troll in question, and began strumming a riff. 

Poppy tensed, unsure of what she was about to be hit with. She brought her hands up to cover her face, no matter how much she wanted to be brave enough to face her people. She was so far up she couldn’t see a single face in the audience, but she wondered if she should have tried, if it was going to be the last thing she saw.

Before Barb could hit the power chord, though, something hit her in the face.

She sputtered, bewildered, looking at what hit her. Her ears were swiveling around and her tail was stuck out straight behind her.

“Seems like I did need that giant manual!” 

Everyone looked up to find a hot air balloon lowering down from the sky, containing two groups of bounty hunters and Branch. [Delta Dawn spent a hot second wondering how they had gotten the balloon from all the way out in the Flats.] The balloon touched down, and all 9 trolls hopped out, running across the stage.

Poppy let out a cry of relief, but Barb just growled. “Rockers!” 

From within the wings came a small crowd of rock trolls, armed with guitars. The bounty hunters all moved quickly, avoiding blasts from the guitars while exchanging blows with the trolls.

From center stage, Barb scoffed. “It doesn't matter, anyways!” She turned away from them, lifting her guitar once again towards the Pop Queen. She built up the melody again.

Branch, from the other side of the stage, cried out in alarm. 

His tail stiffened, his whole body entering panic mode. He couldn’t do all this to lose Poppy! He had to get over there faster, but he was stuck. He had to-!

“Here!” One of the Reggaeton back up dancers called, holding her hands out. He used them as a springboard; the troll, who he believed was named Marimba, was tackled to the ground not a second later. 

She got him the opening he needed, though, and he was able to fling his hair out, launching himself forwards.

Right as Barb struck the Power Chord, he was in front of Poppy, taking the blow for her.

The Pop Queen wailed as an obsidian cocoon formed around him, dropping heavily to the ground. The whole stadium was silent except for her, even the fighting coming to a standstill, as cracks formed in the rock. 

It burst away to reveal Branch, but in a way he had never looked before.

He was gray again, with black hair to match. But, he had lost his usual vest and shorts for a pair of black leather pants and a handful of chest tattoos. His eyes were pure red. Slowly, he held up a hand, a gesture of devil horns aloft.

Across the stadium, Rock Trolls cheered.

“You turned him into a rock zombie!” Poppy yelled, accusingly.

“Alright!” Barb said, excitedly, her pupils expanding slightly. “So that's what it does!” She grinned as a Rock Troll clipped her onto the flight rig, and she jumped into the crowd, flying over it.

She began playing again, eventually turning all the leaders along the lava moat into Rock Trolls. She landed again on the stage, triumphantly. To her right, two figures began shifting in Delta Dawn’s hair. A country trolling popped out, looking just as rock as her leader and a small, black-winged trolling fluttered out behind her, looking just as rock as the rest of them.

From the classical section, there was a cry of grief and terror louder than any others. A couple trolls in various sections began murmuring in shock. Barb didn’t notice, eyes locked on the guitar in her hands.

 All of the leaders were rock, except- she paused, turning to glare at the squeaky cage door, where Poppy had just broken the lock and was trying to escape.

“Not so fast!” She yelled at the pink menace. “Boytoy! Mullet time!” She commanded.

Without hesitation, the gray rock-zombie flung his hair out, grabbing the Pop Queen as she squeaked in alarm. She thrashed, but was unable to break free from his grip.

“Branch!” She pleaded, to no avail. “Please let me go! I can save you! I know you don’t want to hurt me!”

The zombie wearing her boyfriend’s face didn’t respond.

“He can’t hear you, Popsqueak!” Barb taunted. “He’s rock now!” She lined up the shot again, this time, successfully hitting her. 

The force of the hit made Poppy yelp, and she was blasted back into the cage, which broke off and fell from the skull fixture. The impact created a cloud of dust, hiding her transformation from view.

Every genre sat nervously. Pop trolls wished upon every star that Poppy would pull another miracle out of nowhere. The bounty hunters stopped struggling against the rock trolls, watching in horror.

Then, the smoke started to clear. Cutting through it, strong as the sun on a foggy day, were her eyes. They glowed bright enough red to break through the dust cloud as it dissipated, revealing the rest of the transformation.

Her hair was still short, but spiky, with black streaks cutting through it. In place of her usual flower crown was a spiked black headband, cutting through the middle of her hair. Her traveling dress was replaced by black denim shorts and a black leather crop top. Under the shorts was a pair of fishnets, which cut off at her ankles. 

Her multitude of bracelets had all transformed as well. Her hugtime bracelet became a thorny vine, wrapping up her arm. The others darkened and gained spikes, much like the ones on her headband.

She boldly stepped out from the ruins of her cage, lifting the devil horns and sticking her tongue out.

Around the stadium, rock trolls all cheered, while all others looked at each other in terror. All of the main genre leaders were transformed, falling under rock control.

Barb smiled. She handed off the magical instrument easily, knowing the strings had done their job perfectly. “Show the people how you play,” she commanded the former Pop Queen, pointing at Cooper, Darnell, and Peppy, who were being shoved forwards by rock trolls.

Cooper was trying to position himself in front of the old king, who looked severely confused by the situation. Peppy glanced around, eyes catching on his daughter. He grew more excited, and tried to stumble forwards, but both Funk Princes held him back.

On stage, Poppy didn’t look up, but lined up her fingers on the frets and began to shred. She moved as she played, wandering around the stage, but still keeping up the music. 

The Rock Queen smiled. She knew it would be better for every troll! She watched the former-Pop-Queen headbanging, totally absorbed in the music! So much so that she wasn't even looking at the strings when she played!

The rock trolls in the audience were cheering loudly, while all the other trolls looked shocked.

It was amazing! Barb figured it would be time to keep going soon, though, and glanced at the guitar in Poppy's hands. The strings were still red- but, the wrong shade of red?

She froze when a drop fell from the instrument and she realized the red was blood.

Riff noticed at the same time, faltering at the sight.

“Give me the guitar back!” Barb ordered, trying to keep her cool. The Ultimate Power Chord was just supposed to change them into Rock Trolls- not actually zombify them! Not force them to play until their hands were bleeding!! 

Poppy stopped playing, standing where she was. “No.”

Barb faltered. “What?!” She realized only then that during the performance, the Pop Queen had put distance between them.

Standing in the middle of the stage, Poppy's face cleared up, revealing her intelligent eyes. Her hair shifted, revealing ear plugs made of gumdrops. “I said no,” she declared, loud enough for the whole stadium to hear her. “Forcing trolls to be just like you won't make them happy- our differences are important! A world where everyone looks the same, acts the same, sounds the same? That isn’t harmony.”

“Excuse me, Queen Barb, but maybe Queen Poppy’s right.” The whole stadium turned to Riff, who stood at his drum set. “I mean, if everyone's the same, how will people know how cool we are?” In the audience, Rock Trolls began to falter and mutter.

Poppy smiled at him, before turning back to Barb. “My people may have harmed yours in the past, but that’s no reason to harm everyone else now!” She tensed. “You want advice on being Queen? A good queen recognizes the strengths in differences, and works with others before ordering them around,” she said, with a scowl. She pointed out the two trollings around Delta Dawn, one of them definitely not a country troll, leading to shock from the other queen and talk from the rock trolls. “Even when we're different, we can come together and create harmony.”

Barb looked around in a panic, seeing her people faltering and gossiping, before she lunged at her. Poppy was way too far for Barb to reach, though- her distraction had given her enough time. The Pop Queen clutched the guitar over her head, then swung it down, and the neck broke free from the body.

The guitar crumbled, but to everyone's surprise, the strings began to crumble too. Barb finally made it over, crouching down as she tried to gather up the remaining pieces. Her tail tried desperately to sweep them all together.

“Why would you do that?!” She yelled. Gray began to spread out from the spot on the ground. “You just destroyed all music! Just like Pop to do this!” She scoffed. “History repeats itself. Pop has ruined everything.” 

Poppy stood, frozen, staring at the strings. “I didn't- I didn't mean to-!” The Pop String, which had been on her bracelet for over a decade, had been through plenty of tumbles and crashes over the years. Not once had it slightly been damaged. She didn’t think it could break.

“Well you did!” Barb roared. “This is all your fault!” She pushed the other troll away. Poppy landed on her hands, which were a very dark gray. “Just go away and let me be alone!”

By that time, the grayness had spread through the entire kingdom.

Around the stage, the various leaders blinked into awareness as well, shocked at the sight before them. Branch blinked himself, turning around quickly to try to find Poppy. He had been gray for most of his life. Even if he was wearing the strangest thing he had ever worn, it felt sadly normal to him to be gray again.

What was not normal was that she was gray, too. That the air around them, which had been illuminated red with the lava, was a dingy gray as well, as if the whole world had lost its color. He frowned, unsure of how to approach her.

Poppy herself was staring at the broken remains of the guitar. It was the second time she had made her people turn gray, had completely and utterly failed them, and this time, there was no going back. The pain in her hands faded into a dull ache as she pressed them into fists, staunching the blood. Not that it was visible as blood, anymore. 

Somehow, she didn’t feel entirely hopeless, like she had in the pot. Instead, she felt entirely useless- it was her fault they had lost all music. She felt the grayness creeping into her mind as she looked out into the crowd. Her dad was confused, but she could see the unease and fear in his gaze. She unfortunately knew, from the pot, that confused trolls can instinctually become gray when those around them are gray, probably as a survival mechanism. But this time, it wasn’t just her dad mimicking those around him. He had lost his music, his joy too. One of the few things he fought to preserve, even under the threat of the bergens.

It was all her fault. She tried to fix things, but ruined it instead, again. She hurt everyone.

She was interrupted by the sound of a steady beat filling the stadium. She blinked, looking up to find Cooper holding a mic up to his chest, where his heart was glowing pink. 

Slowly, Prince D caught on, and began beatboxing to the beat.

“Those are my sons!” Queen Essence called, excitedly. “My boys are making music!”

Delta listened carefully, before stomping her hooves and clapping her hands to the beat as well, urging her people to follow along. Their hearts all lit up orange as they did. A tiny yellow heart followed suit, clapping excitedly. Slowly, the entire audience joined in, their hearts glowing in their chests.

“Hear that?” Essence called out, turning to the crowd. “Queen Barb can’t take away something that is inside of us. Because that’s where music really comes from.” 

Next to her, Quincy nodded. “It started with the strings, but now it comes from us,” he added softly.

“Yeah! It comes from our experiences!” King Trollex chimed in, happily.

Delta smiled at them all. “Our lives!”

“Our culture,” Essence finished. 

“We may be different,” Delta Dawn spoke up. “But we can still be friends!” Pennywhistle fluttered around her, smiling widely. Clampers poked out of her aunt’s hair again to smile at the other trolling.

“Allies!” Trollzart said, looking gratefully at the country leader, who had tried to protect one of his trolls.

“Family,” Essence and Quincy said, looking at their sons in the audience, then over at their people.

“With time and patience, we can heal the wounds of our past, change our future, and find peace,” Quincy said.

The entire crowd was glowing from their chests, going along with the beat. Then, they all went silent, looking eagerly at the stage.

In front of her, the other troll leaders turned and smiled at her, trusting Poppy to lead them all. With her heart still gray, Poppy faltered. The whole stadium was looking at her, waiting for her to take the first step again. She turned to look at Branch silently pleading for help. His glowing pink heart beat even faster in his chest as he stepped towards her.

You with the sad eyes

Don't be discouraged

Oh, I realize, it's hard to take courage

In a world full of people,

You can lose sight of it all,

The darkness inside you can make you feel so small

He walked up next to her as his soft voice filled the stadium, and tilted her head up to look at him. He paused after the verse, looking into her teary eyes. 

Behind her, the classical trolls grabbed their instruments, and began an accompanying melody, many of them regaining their colors. Branch spared a moment to smile gratefully at Trollzart before continuing.

Show me a smile, then,

Don't be unhappy, can't remember when,

I last heard you laughing

This world may be crazy,

So when it's taken all you can bear

Just call me up, and I will always be there

He smiled, reassuringly, causing Poppy to finally let out a small smile in return. She wrapped her tail around his. He grinned, pointing to her chest, where her heart was illuminated. 

And I see your true colors, shining through

I see your true colors,

That's why I love you.

Poppy looked up from her chest quickly, taking in the blue flush to his cheeks that quickly spread to the rest of his body, until he was glowing with color once again. She leaned forwards, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, to press her forehead against his. From the light behind her eyelids, she could tell her own color was returning with a glow as well.

She felt a little childish. They were already dating, had admitted to their crushes on each other. But neither of them had said the L-word before.

She flushed in embarrassment when she heard the auditorium cheering at the affection, making Branch chuckle lightly. After allowing herself a moment, she lifted her head, kissed his cheek, and turned to the crowd. She smiled brightly at them all.

So don't be afraid

To let them show

Your true colors are beautiful

She noticed a couple trolls, scattered throughout the audience, regaining their colors. She smiled gratefully at Branch one more time before switching up the song. 

So let me hear you sing

What followed contained elements from each genre, Poppy and Branch being pulled along to each section, both smiling widely. Pennywhistle fluttered around the Pop Queen excitedly, wings healed, before an older classical troll embraced her, tears in her eyes. The trolling buried herself in her mom’s hold, the two of them smiling widely at the trolls on stage.

When it was only hard rock left, they all turned to Barb, who winced. She was the only one still gray in the entire auditorium, though her heart was beating rapidly on her chest.

She looked out at her people, then back at her dad, who was happily playing on his keyboard. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Poppy and Branch muttering to each other, one more angry than the other, before Branch deflated with a sigh. He used his hair to reach into the top of the skull, lowering down with something in his grasp.

Poppy took it, walking over to Barb with a new guitar in hand, trust in her eyes. Hesitantly, the Hard Rock Queen took it, before smiling and playing. 

With her addition to the song, the lava changed colors, and a beam of rainbow wrapped around the stage. As it passed the different leaders, it transformed their outfits into rainbow versions of their own usual ones. Prince D and Cooper both shared a laugh at Cooper’s newly-rainbow-striped hat.

When it passed Poppy, it lifted her up in a small wind tunnel, ruffling her short hair. It gave her a pair of long, rainbow-printed pants and a white cropped top. On top of that was a long robe, decorated with rainbows and hearts. Her hands were covered by gloves, which reached up to her elbows.

To her left, Barb stared in wonder, pupils blown wide. The Hard-Rock Queen’s mohawk was extended with rainbow highlights. Her jumpsuit was highlighted in a similar manner, and her tail had rainbow ornaments decorating it. 

Smiling at her, Poppy gently wrapped their hands together and lifted them in front of the people, in a gesture of peace. Trolls of all genres began to cheer.

“You know,” she joked, letting go of the other Queen’s hand. “Now that you’re not forcing me, maybe we can be friends.”

Barb faltered, growing excited. “You still want to be friends?!” She burst out. Her pupils were all that was visible of her eyes, tail swinging excitedly behind her. Poppy smiled and nodded, making the other smile widely. “YEAH!!” She burst out, hugging the other queen so tightly she was nearly headbutting her. “Hear that, Carol?! We’re going to be a girl group!”

Off to the side, a rock troll blinked, as if just waking up. “A girl group?!” She yelled, her own pupils blown wide. “Fuck yeah!!”

Finally, after generations of hatred and isolation, the troll kingdoms were at peace once again.

—

“And that’s the story,” Poppy said, finishing her scrapbook. She looked out at the small crowd of trollings and parents from each genre, smiling at them as the children gazed in wonder. She crossed her gloved hands in her lap, on top of the scrapbook she had used, as the kids began to cheer. 

“My Aunt Delta helped!” Clampers yelled. Next to her, Pennywhistle preened with pride as well. Behind them, Delta’s tail flicked and she reared her head back slightly in embarrassment.

“Yes, she did,” Poppy agreed. “In the end, it was only everyone working together that saved music.”

“Poppifer?” A new voice called out. She looked up to find Branch smiling at her softly, tail- adorned with a new band- swinging softly behind him. “The others are ready.”

She nodded, standing, before she turned to the gathered trolls. “Now, let’s go have a wedding!”

Chapter Text

As the trolls all welcomed each other with open arms, the leaders stepped backstage for a more private conversation.

“As much as I would like to conduct peace talks-” Poppy began. Barb interrupted her with a snort. “-I believe I need medical attention before we begin.”

The rock queen faltered. “Wait, so your hands weren’t magically healed?!”

Branch ignored her, stepping up alongside his girlfriend. “What happened?!” He asked, desperately.

She winced. “Can you just get Dr. Moonbloom?”

“Is it life threatening?” Queen Essence asked, quickly. “Darnell, go get our doctors, too,” she commanded. 

“No!” Poppy protested, before he could run away. “Please, just my doctor!” She paused. “And… Branch?” She asked, nervously. “Can you come with me?”

His tail wrapped around hers in a heartbeat. “Of course.”

She sent him a small smile, before turning to the rest of the leaders. “I’m sorry to delay peace talks at this moment. I hope, in the meantime, you are all able to reconnect with your people and make sure they are safe and secure.” She hesitated. “Cooper?” The other funk prince perked up. “I’m sorry to ask this, but can you please make sure our people are okay? I can organize transportation home-”

“It’s fine, Queen Poppy,” Cooper said, waving her away. “I’m sure the rest of the snackpack can help me with it. And I'll send the doc back if I see her.”

Visibly, tension fell from Poppy’s shoulders. “Thank you, so much.”

He waved her off again, before turning and heading to the Pop section of the audience. The other leaders glanced at her, before following to their own sections of people.

“Is there…” Barb spoke up, hesitantly. “Is there anything you need from me?”

Branch turned and glared at her. “You've done enough-”

“Wait,” Poppy said. He stopped in his tracks, and Barb's eyes swung over to her. “Is there somewhere private we can meet my doctor in?”

“Yes!” Barb said in a hurry. “Of course! I- uh-” she faltered, glancing over at Riff. “Do we have somewhere like that?”

He blinked, and raised his beanie to look to make sure she was actually talking to him. “Uh… we have the practice rooms? Or… something…”

“Right this way!” Barb said, loudly.

“They’re- um- the other way…”

“Motherf- okay! The other way!”

Poppy giggled while Branch rolled his eyes, but both of them followed suit.

As they were walking, Poppy reached out to grab his hand, but hissed and winced, rapidly retracting her own. Both of the trolls with her stopped in concern, making her flush. “It’s nothing, really! Just- just moved wrong!” She rushed to explain.

Barb looked at her nervously while Branch looked in concern. “Are you sure?” The other queen asked, skeptically. “Because your glove’s turning red.”

“What?!” Both Poppy and Branch blurted out in a panic, looking down. The hand she had reached with, sure enough, had started bleeding again. “Sugar!!” Poppy further burst out, realizing only then how much pain she was feeling. “Music!!” She gasped, out of breath from panic.

Branch’s head whipped around to Barb, glare on his face. “Room! Now!”

Without knocking, Barb opened the door she was next to, forcing it open despite a lock breaking in the process. She shoved everything on a table in the corner of the room onto the floor, shoving the stuff on the floor to the side to create standing space. “Carol will understand!” She reasoned, desperately.

“Your highness!?” A familiar voice called out, speeding walking backstage towards them. Poppy almost cried in relief at hearing Dr. Moonbloom’s voice. The older troll’s face morphed into frustration and anger, glaring at Barb and Branch. “Doctor-patient confidentiality. Get out.”

Barb immediately scrambled out of the room, closing the door behind her, but Branch stayed back, not detangling their tails. 

“I asked for Branch to stay,” Poppy said, quietly. 

Moonbloom faltered, before nodding. “Right. Well, let’s begin,” she said, dramatic tone in her voice.

The queen giggled slightly, through her tears, and allowed herself to be led into the room and sat on the table.

As her gloves were carefully removed, Branch sat next to her, allowing her to bury her face in his shoulder. He ran one of his hands through her hair- which had gotten a medium curl to it in the rainbow transformation- and another along the edge of his vest, which was returned with the same magic.

He glanced back down once the gloves were fully removed and gasped, subconsciously wrapping his hair around Poppy’s head so that she wouldn’t be able to look.

“I want-” she muttered, shaking slightly. “-I want to look.”

He hesitated, but relented, allowing her to lift her head and look down at her own hands while Dr. Moonbloom assessed them.

They were… bad. Really bad.

“Queen Poppy, you've set your healing back months,” Dr. Moonbloom said, voice tense. “I don't know if these will ever heal.”

“Yeah, funny,” Branch said, sarcastically. “But you can cool it with the dramatics.”

The older woman shifted her gaze, shooting him with a look. “I assure you, I'm not joking around.”

“Oh, come on,” Branch complained, rolling his eyes. He detangled himself, standing up as if they were cleared to go. “Poppy, I'm sure you'll be fine. It'll heal, just like last time, and we just have to be careful for a bit.” When he looked at her, though, she didn't look back. She just stared down at her hands, which were a miserable sight to see.

“Mister, I need you to calm down,” Moonbloom interrupted, getting between them.

The blue troll’s hair puffed, and his tail began thrashing around angrily. 

“Branch,” Poppy interrupted. His gaze snapped over to her. “It- the damage was too deep this time. They're going to- it won't ever be able to heal all the way.”

“But-!” Branch faltered, his face crumbling. “But, the ukulele…”

“I know,” she confirmed, quietly. “But, I was willing to give that up to save you.”

It was silent, before he yelled in rage, kicking the wall next to the door. Moonbloom stood firm, blocking Poppy from any attacks, but they never came.

“Why can't you put yourself first for once in your fucking life!?!” 

Branch flung the door open, storming out of the room. The rebound slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing in the newly silent room.

Dr. Moonbloom eyed the door for a second longer, before turning to her patient, finding her shaking, barely holding back tears. “Oh, Poppy…”

“I'm sorry,” the girl whispered. “I'm so sorry.”

“There's nothing you need to be sorry for, right now,” Moonbloom said, cautiously. “You, as Queen, made a decision for your people. It's just- sometimes, as a troll, you have to put yourself first.”

“Isn't what I'm doing right now, by waiting to conduct peace negotiations?” She asked, scared and confused. “And- and isn't that exactly what Creek did?”

In front of her, the doctor tensed, opening and closing her mouth, with no words coming out.

“I was so angry- he didn't seem scared or regretful or anything, but- but, he was just putting himself first, right? But, I mentioned no one had seen or heard from him since the last Trollstice, and someone said ‘good riddance’ with such hate in their voice- why- how could I do the same thing?”

“Poppy,” Moonbloom rested her hand on the girl's back, finally finding the words to say. “I had to watch you throw yourself into danger and stress time and time again for your people, because you believed their safety and comfort was more important than your own. We're trying to get you to the point where you can recognize your own life is just as important as anyone else's. To not act selflessly just because you feel like you have to, but because you care,” she said, sadly. “What Creek did… pushing Guy and Smidge wasn't an evil thing to do, though it was a very bad choice, but what he did after, in a moment of calm? When he decided his own life was not only worth living, but more worthy than everyone else in the village combined? That's when he crossed the line. Mocking you while he did it certainly earned him no points either,” she said, in a huff. When she looked up, she found her attempt at poor humor had failed miserably. Poppy seemed entirely unconvinced by her speech.

Instead, Moonbloom sat on the exam table next to Poppy. “I'm sorry,” she said, quietly. “I wish I could provide better guidance- a better answer.” She looked up at the queen, who was staring at her in mirrored sadness. “There's so much I wish I could just tell you, but-” She trailed off, eyes drifting back towards the ground. The queen was still silent. “From now on, if you need anything- medical or not- my pod is open to you,” Moonbloom promised. 

“...and if-” Poppy began to speak up, her voice scratchy. “If I could really use a hug right now?”

The doctor blinked in surprise, before nodding, leaning with her arms extended forwards. Poppy fell into them, careful of her hands, and pressed her face into the doctor's shoulder.

Moonbloom clutched her poddaughter tightly, wishing upon every star that she could go back in time. Tell Peppy to shove it when he made her pinky promise to let Poppy learn and grow without interfering (he had said she wasn't great with kids, and she had accepted it as fact.) When she had pinky promised to wait for Poppy to come to her, instead of seeking her out every time she had a concern. When she had promised to not be the one to tell her about-

She held the girl until she shifted, pulling back on her own.

“I'm sorry,” she said, quietly. “But- I just- they hurt-” She held up her hands, which Moonbloom quickly reassessed. “Oh- oh no- I got blood on your jacket-”

“Hey, hey, it's okay,” Moonbloom said, softly. “I'm a doctor- it happens more than you'd think.” She carefully wiped away some stray tears. “Why don't we get your hands fixed up, huh?”

Poppy, still teary-eyed, nodded.

—

The end result made Poppy feel like she had duct-taped golf clubs to her hands. Either that, or the feeling of wearing slightly-too-small mittens. She stared at them as Moonbloom puttered around the room, putting her supplies away.

“Doc?” She said, quietly. The other troll hummed in acknowledgement. “I can't- I can't wipe my face.”

The other turned and frowned, pulling a tissue from her hair. “I've got it,” she said, absently. “You've got smutzch on your face any-” Moonbloom froze, tissue against Poppy's face. “Oh music, don't tell Mags I said that.”

The young queen giggled softly. “Where-” she asked, nervously. “Where is Mags?”

“Back at the village,” Moonbloom said, casually. She finished cleaning Poppy’s face, and moved to check her other supplies.

Poppy froze. “But- but Barb said she dug trolls out of the ground…”

“...yeah,” the doctor agreed quietly. “But she didn’t know about the whole system. We managed to hide most of the trollings, the injured, and the elderly, but there was… a struggle getting everyone underground at the care pod.”

“...my dad?”

“He refused to hide without…” Moonbloom paused, hand tensing on a roll of bandages. “Without his daughter.”

“Oh.”

She began re-inventorying her supplies, avoiding eye contact. Poppy felt bad when she remembered that not only had her dad been, well, her dad, but he had been Moonbloom’s best friend. All her life, Peppy had been not-all-there, even when he was better. It scared her to think about his friends watching him go from the bright and intelligent king he used to be to the man who wasn’t allowed to cook on his own.

[She feared the day it happened to her.]

—

Branch huffed angrily as he kicked around a pile of junk, scouring for scrap he could use. A couple Rock Trolls eyed him, but no one tried to stop him. 

“HEY!!” A gravelly voice called out. He ignored her, continuing to bury his head in the piles of junk. “Hey!!” Smidge repeated, stepping right up to him. “What’s your problem?!”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he scoffed, still not looking at her. 

“You don’t-!” Smidge stormed up and punched him in the arm. “What do you think I’m talking about?! You yelled at Poppy when she just wanted your support!”

He kicked another pile, glaring at it. He gave up the pretense of searching it for scrap. “Yeah, well, maybe now she’ll finally realize what a terrible person I am!!”

He moved to storm away, but collapsed in on himself when he got socked in the stomach.

“You’re not a terrible person! You’re our friend, and we’re going to care about you!!” She argued, sharply.

“I’m the reason Poppy’s injured!” He snapped, whipping his head up to glare at her. “If she didn’t give me a chance, this never would have happened!!”

“You’re not the one who attacked us!”

“But I’m the one who burned her ukulele!” He shouted, hair puffing and tail thrashing. “She burned her hands trying to save it! She strained them trying to protect me from the Country Trolls! She ruined them by playing to save my life!! And I lost our friendship anklet!!”

“That’s no reason to yell at Poppy!!” She yelled back. “You can blame yourself all you want, but that doesn’t mean it’s true, or that you can yell at people!!”

“Then stop yelling at me!!”

A Rock Troll walked by, grinning absently. “Your voices would sound great in heavy metal,” he said.

Both Smidge and Branch turned and glared sharply at him. “SHUT UP!!”

The guy’s eyes narrowed to slits and his tail stuck straight out in panic as he turned and ran away, leaving the two of them alone. 

Both of them stormed away in opposite directions.

Chapter Text

Poppy walked out of the room a while later, standing as tall as she could instead of wrapping her tail around her waist and hiding in a dark corner. Her gaze stayed straight ahead, determined to get out to her people and get them home.

Rock trolls paused in their tasks to stare at her as she passed, some cringing away from her brightness. Whispers surrounded her, but she didn’t listen (much).

(They whispered about her hands, about the shouting they heard, even from outside the room. She didn’t want to think about either of those things.)

She emerged from backstage into the bright daylight and blinked. Her people were already gone. A small group remained, chatting with some of the other genres, but most of them were probably heading home.

“Queen Poppy?” A voice spoke up from right behind her.

She blinked again, turning quickly to find three of the trolls Branch arrived with sitting on speakers and other equipment. She must have walked past them, too in her head to notice. “Hello!” She said, quickly, once she realized she hadn’t said anything. “You were the ones to help Branch, right?”

They nodded. “I’m Marimba, that’s Tambora, and then he’s Tresillo. We’re Reggaeton trolls,” one of the girls explained. “Bounty hunters.”

Poppy’s tail swished on the ground. “Oh! Hickory explained this to-” She froze, remembering what happened on the riverbank, and her tail lowered onto the ground. “Actually, I don’t think I know what that means,” she admitted, trying to look at them sheepishly. She was sure it was more of a grimace, though, given their expressions.

“Sí, tu novio nos dijo,” Tresillo said. “I can at least say that he didn’t lie to you about that.”

Her ear twitched, and her smile grew involuntarily tighter. “Right.”

“¡Mi viva!” Her dad called, excitedly, hobbling his way over. The other trolls looked up in confusion. “¡Te cortas tu pelo!”

Poppy's face immediately shifted into an easy-going smile as she turned around, hiding her hands behind her back. “Sí, papá. Yo quiero un nuevo cabello, ¿te gustas?”

He smiled softly. “Yo no sé,” he joked. “Mi hija siempre es perfecta.”

The queen laughed lightly and waved with her tail, catching the attention of a pop troll who was looking around frantically. Once she noticed the two, she rushed over.

“Ginger Root is going to help you home, okay, Dad?” She explained, looking more at the approaching troll than the man she was talking to.

The other troll nodded at the hidden command, and stepped up next to the king. “Come this way, Mr. Peppy! We’re going to take a critterbus ride!”

He smiled, serenely. “Oh, that sounds lovely!”

Once he was out of sight, Poppy turned back to the rest of the group. “Sorry about that-”

“¿Cuándo aprendiste español?” the leader asked, proddingly.

Poppy blinked in surprise at being interrupted. “¿Cuando era un bebé?” She answered, confused. 

“Why does your dad call you ‘mi viva?’” Tambora asked, head tilted in confusion

She blinked in surprise. “It’s his nickname for me? Meaning ‘my life?’”

“No it’s not?” Marimba said, confused. “That’s mi vida. Viva’s a name.”

Poppy’s smile grew tight again. “A name that means ‘life.’”

“I guess,” Marimba said, shrugging. “But, saying ‘mi viva’ sounds weird. Like he’s talking about someone named Viva.”

“Well he’s not,” Poppy snapped, before composing herself. “Apologies, but I’m sure you noticed my father isn’t in his best state of mind. So, forgive him if he mixes up words sometimes.”

They glanced at each other, before Tresillo raised his hands. “Alright,” he agreed. 

Poppy’s tail flicked sharply on the ground. “I fear we’ve gotten distracted. Is there a reason you called me over?”

“Not really?” Tambora admitted. “We were just kinda curious.”

“Branch spent practically the whole trip fretting over you,” Marimba added on.

“Ah,” Poppy said, shortly. “Well then, if you’ll excuse me.” She turned, walking towards the small group of pop trolls.

—

“Hey.”

Cooper turned quickly, his brother following at a more sedated pace. “Branch!” He said, quickly. “What happened?!”

The dim-blue troll raised an eyebrow. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Smidge told us that you yelled at Poppy!” Cooper said, emphatically. Darnell shook his head disappointedly. “I know you wouldn’t do that unless something big happened!”

Prince D seemed to blink in surprise at his brother’s non-accusatory tone. In the short time he had known him, his brother had always been giving others the benefit of the doubt, but this troll yelling at his injured girlfriend?

Branch still crossed his arms defensively. “How do you know I’m not just an asshole?” His tail snapped back and forth on the ground behind him, disturbing the layer of dust that covered every inch of the volcano.

“Branch,” Cooper said, voice low and uncharacteristically serious. “No one is allowed to call my friends assholes. Besides, if you were ‘just an asshole,’ why are you here for help with your apology gift?”

Darnell raised his eyebrow, trying to understand where his brother had gotten that from, but trusted him to know the grump better than him.

Branch, meanwhile, just sputtered. “Wha- I’m not making an apology gift!”

Cooper tilted his head. “But, you are making a gift for her, right?”

“Yeah! Because she’s going to be dealing with permanent injury for the rest of her life!” He burst out. “Not because I think it will make up for anything!”

“So,” Prince D interrupted. “If you’re making a not-apology gift for her, why do you need our help?”

Branch sighed, running his hands over his face. “I don’t-” he huffed. “Your city had so much technology I could only dream of. I need help designing something.”

Darnell nodded. “I can introduce you to R and B, they’re our top inventors.”

“And I can help, too!” Cooper said, starting to wiggle in excitement. “I love gifts!”

—

Poppy watched the last critterbus leave, and almost waved, before she remembered. She winced, lowering her bandaged hands to her side.

Once the bus was out of sight, she found herself sitting heavily on the rim of the volcano, wrapped hands rested in her lap.

Smidge had elected to stay (well, she hadn’t said as much, but given how she was benching some of the stage lights at the moment, she didn’t seem to be in a hurry to leave), and Cooper was staying with his family, but the rest of the snackpack was going to be back in the village, coordinating set-up.

The twins had gone on the first bus back, insisting they had to tell Guy all the drama that had happened. Guy and DJ were still back there, taking care of their son and niece, respectively. Mags probably needed the help to wrangle all of the trollings. Biggie was on a later bus, but was still probably already back.

He insisted that she could stay there while they rebuilt, or so Cooper had reported.

Poppy wanted to go back, but she was so terrified of what she would find. She spent years building the village up, and then rebuilding it. What if their library was destroyed? What if there weren't enough pods for trolls to sleep in? What if their food storages for the winter were eaten by critters?

What if she couldn’t fix any of it?

Her hands hurt so badly, she knew she wouldn’t be able to do any construction. She couldn’t watch the trollings, because what if something happened and she needed to protect them? She was…

She stared down at her hands.

She was useless.

“Queen Poppy?”

Poppy startled, looking up. Queen Essence was standing next to her, looking down questioningly. 

She stood as gracefully as she could, hiding her hands behind her back. “Your highness,” she greeted, politely.

“Oh, none of that,” she said, softly. “We’re both queens, you can just call me Essence.”

The pop troll froze, confusion marring her face as she tried to fathom doing such a thing. “Respectfully, Queen Essence, I’d rather not.”

The older queen laughed, lightly. “That’s fine, Queen Poppy.”

Poppy untensed slightly, glad to have successfully navigated that discussion, and smiled politely. “How can I help you?”

Essence hummed in consideration, before nodding towards the path leading around the volcano. “Would you like to walk with me?”

“Of course!” She responded, smiling. “Will anyone else be joining us?”

“No,” the other said, shaking her head and beginning to walk. “I guessed you’d be more comfortable talking about your injuries if we were alone.”

Poppy froze, before rushing to catch up. “I- I’m not sure what you mean?”

“Your hands, dear,” Essence said, calmly. “I can’t imagine they’re easy to deal with right now.”

“I’m still able to take care of business,” Poppy insisted. “I won’t delay peace negotiations for too much longer.”

Essence looked at her softly. “It’s okay. Sorting out what our peoples need will probably be a lengthy process anyways.” She shook her head. “No, I’m asking out of concern for your own well-being.”

“Oh.”

It was silent as they walked for a while, before the silence got to Poppy.

“Well, I mean, as Queen, I have to be strong for my people,” she said.

Essence hummed. “And as your own troll?”

“...I don’t know,” she admitted. 

“That’s okay,” the older queen replied, calmly. “I imagine you’ve had a lot to process these past few days.”

“Yeah…” They walked in silence for a while before Poppy spoke again. “I don’t know how I’m going to do all of this alone.” She moved, like she was going to run her hands over her face, but froze when she was reminded of the bandages. 

“Why do you have to do this alone?” Essence asked.

“Because-” Poppy faltered. “Because I’m the queen?” She said, uncertainly. “I have to be strong. Sure, Branch has been helping with my schedule, but… shouldn’t I be doing the majority of this alone?”

“Not if you don’t need to,” she replied. “Quincy and I split the work of running our kingdom, we have a counsel to help with other matters, and we’ve been training Darnell to take over for us when we retire.”

Poppy’s tail swayed nervously behind her. “But, I’ve always been able to do this alone.”

“Have you?” Poppy opened her mouth, but found no words coming out. “And even if you have, you’ve gone through a major injury. No one will think of you as weak.”

“I don’t want them to think I won’t be able to be queen because of this injury,” she tried. “I need to be someone they can rely on, which was hard enough when this injury was temporary.”

Essence hummed. “You know, Queen Poppy, having an injury doesn’t make you weak.”

“I- I know that,” Poppy argued. “But, but I’m the queen.”

“So am I,” Essence said, frankly. She paused in their walk, lifting one of her front legs up to her shoulder to shift her cloak off her back. “I got these when Cooper was taken away from me. It interferes with my ability to stand and lay down, as well as turn and maneuver in certain ways.” Three long scars, marked by a lack of fur, cut across her back. Talon marks, Poppy assumed in shock, remembering the story of her being taken by the bird. “Not once have my people looked down upon me for needing Quincy to help me with certain tasks. Your people should not look down upon you for your injuries either.” She readjusted her cloak, covering her back. “Is this not something you’ve discussed with your own parents?”

“...no,” she admitted. “I- My dad lost his mind when I was 12, and I never had a mom.”

Essence hummed, sadly. “My condolences.” She began walking again, Poppy following absently. “If you do find yourself needing guidance, though, I am always here. I know how difficult it can be to be queen. Quincy is willing too, if I am unavailable.”

“I- I appreciate the offer, your majesty,” Poppy said, quietly. 

They had looped around the volcano, and were standing facing the stage. She saw Branch standing there, talking to some Funk Trolls. 

“You should go talk to him,” Essence said, noticing her look. 

Poppy’s tail wrapped around her ankle. “He’s mad at me.”

“I don’t think you’re who he’s truly angry at.”

Chapter Text

Despite Essence’s suggestion, Poppy didn’t immediately go to talk to Branch. Instead, she walked around the auditorium, finding nooks and crannies and vents she could hide in. It felt nicer, knowing the area like that. She snuck her way past rock trolls, a few funk trolls (who were still waiting for their ship to arrive) and some other small groups that must have been subgenres.

Apparently, Smidge had moved up to bench-pressing a speaker, impressing some rock trolls. 

Cooper was sitting in the middle of the stage, across from his family, telling them stories, excitedly. 

Poppy hid in the rafters, watching her friends as they smiled, joked, and fit in with the trolls around them. 

Smidge had become quite popular with the rock trolls, considering her deep, gravelly voice, and they kept asking her to try singing their songs. She smiled after yelling out a chorus, looking like a weight had been lifted off of her shoulders. She smiled as she bested an entire group in arm-wrestling. 

Cooper’s family kept their eyes locked on him whenever their people didn’t need them. His parents were hooked on every word he said, though his brother would poke fun at him every now and then. It never hurt his feelings- in fact, Cooper seemed to smile brighter each time. 

Branch had disappeared after talking to the Funk Trolls that morning, but Poppy was pretty sure he had just commandeered a different practice room, given the way the rock trolls were avoiding one of them. She was sure she could have just asked, but…

It felt like too much. 

Instead, she watched the trolls walk around, going about their lives from the safety of the rafters. 

Barb hesitantly approached Trollex, her tail wrapped around her leg, eyes thin slits. She spoke, haltingly, while he stared at her with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. 

Riff sat with King Thrash, giving the man a drink whenever he requested it. They just kinda… sat in silence, otherwise.

Delta Dawn was talking to the Classical leader- Trollzart- and a female Classical Troll while Clampers and Pennywhistle ran around them. The troll, Pennywhistle’s mom, presumably, smiled brightly, wrapping the country leader in a hug, pressing a kiss to each of her cheeks.

Delta Dawn flushed, as red as her hair, awkwardly leaning into the hug. They were interrupted when Clampers ran straight into her knees, knocking her over.

Trollzart laughed behind his hand, before moving to help them up.

She spotted the Reggaeton trolls who had introduced themselves earlier chatting with a group of shiny trolls- she remembered they also arrived with Branch. 

The leaders were facing off in an arm wrestle, their followers all circling them. Poppy noticed Tambora standing really close to one of the other trolls, pinkies interlocked, but hidden at their sides.

The world was still going, music had come back. Her people were rebuilding… 

And she was sitting in the rafters, hiding from everyone.

In the late evening, the Funk Ship arrived, and the rest of the groups boarded, Funk, Techno, and Classical alike. Like the Pop trolls, each leader and a handful of others stayed behind, but the stadium was nearly empty by the time the sun set.

Just before dark, Barb collected Smidge, the Funk Royal Family, the other leaders and visitors, and led them out of the volcano and down to the city below.

The rock trolls left not long after, ready to go to bed after being awake all of the previous few days and nights.

Poppy knew she should go to sleep too, but…

Her hands hurt. Her head hurt. Her hair hurt. Her heart hurt.

She dropped down onto the empty stage, closing her eyes in the silence. She didn’t want to sleep- couldn’t sleep. But she closed her eyes and stood in the center of the stage, trying to relax.

All she could think of, though, was how useless she was. Her friends were doing fine without her. She wasn’t helping rebuild the village, she wasn’t conducting diplomatic discussions, she wasn’t doing anything except being useless.

She tried to remember what Moonbloom and Queen Essence had told her. She was healing- it was okay to let others help. But…

With her eyes closed, she opened her mouth and sang.

I don’t like my mind right now,

Stacking up problems that are so unnecessary

Wish that I could slow things down

I wanna let go, but there’s comfort in the panic

And I drive myself crazy, thinking everything’s about me

Yeah I drive myself crazy, cause I can’t escape the gravity

It felt more rock-like than she usually sang, but it was comforting, somehow, to sing out her negative feelings. Admitting things she never told anyone… felt… good.

I’m holding on,

Why is everything so heavy?

I’m holding on, 

To so much more than I can carry

I keep dragging around what’s bringing me down

If I just let go, I’ll be set free

Holding on,

Why is everything so heavy?

She finished the chorus, feeling the last line more strongly than any of the previous ones. 

They say that I’m paranoid,

A new voice joined her, and she turned rapidly to find Branch standing on the stage behind her, eyes locked on the ground.

But I’m pretty sure the world is out to get me

It’s not like I make the choice to let my mind stay so messy

Nervously, he began to look up at her while he sang, stepping forwards to approach her.

I know you’re not the center of the universe, but I keep spinning round you just the same, yeah

I know you’re not the center of the universe, but I keep spinning round you just the same

I’m holding on,

Why is everything so heavy?

I’m holding on, 

To so much more than I can carry

I keep dragging around what’s bringing me down

If I just let go, I’ll be set free

Holding on,

Why is everything so heavy?

Nervously, she shifted, her tail wrapping around her wrist.

I know you're not the center of the universe, but I keep spinning round me just the same

In a mirror to her, he stepped forwards and repeated the line.

I know I’m not the center of the universe, but you keep spinning round me just the same

Then, the two of them sang the chorus together, absently walking circles around the stage.

And I drive myself crazy, thinking everything’s about me

I’m holding on,

Why is everything so heavy?

I’m holding on, 

To so much more than I can carry

I keep dragging around what’s bringing me down

If I just let go, I’ll be set free

Holding on,

Why is everything so heavy?

“...Branch?” Poppy asked, nervously.

“Poppy…” He replied, sadly.

“I’m sorry,” they both said, at the same time. “Wait, what?”

They both stared at each other in silence, before Poppy curled in on herself. “I’m sorry for upsetting you,” she said, quietly.

He blinked in surprise. “What? No, Poppy, I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“And I shouldn’t have yelled at you!” She emphasized, looking distressed.

He gaped at her, before crossing his arms. “Alright, fine. We’re doing this with ‘I statements.’”

“...you mean like how I have the trollings solve arguments?” She asked, ears tilted in confusion.

“I feel… scared, when you ignore your own needs, and next time, I’d like for you to remember that trolls care about you,” he said, voice tight.

She gaped at him, before slowly nodding. “I feel… insulted… when you don’t trust me. And next time, I’d like for you to tell me what I did wrong first.”

“Wha-? Poppy, of course I trust you!” He said, stepping forwards, before faltering. “I just- I want you to be safe!”

She moved like she wanted to cross her arms, but found the motion blocked by the casts. “...I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’ve been fine as queen alone. I just-” She looked down, curling in on herself. “It feels like… since we started dating…”

He sputtered. “Poppy, I’m not- you’re an amazing queen!” He declared. “It’s my fault you keep getting hurt, and I’m just trying to protect you!”

“My injuries are not your fault!” Poppy protested. 

He gestured to her hands. “You did that to save me! You got hurt in the first place because of me!”

“I got burned because of my own decisions!” She snapped. “I made a decision for the good of my people! I thought that was the whole reason you were mad at me!?”

“No!!” He shouted, before faltering. “No, Poppy, I- I just can’t stand to see you hurt. I just wish you’d stop putting others before yourself so often.”

Her nose scrunched. “Why? I don’t really matter.”

The statement echoed in the silent auditorium.