Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Branch didn’t travel much to Troll Village.

The reasons why were nearly as obvious to himself as they were to the rest of the trolls. Branch was himself a troll, but only in name. There was no way he’d categorize himself under the village’s definition of a troll.

Trolls loved to sing, and dance, and throw exuberant parties that were loud and large in scale. They loved glitter, and hugs, and friendship and flowers and love and anything that was bright, colorful, and cheery. They always wore smiles on their faces, celebrated and partied, frolicked and laughed so much till they cried. Not a tear would ever be out of sadness, however. How could there be when there was so much happiness to spread, contagious like a disease and catching onto every troll in its path? Well, every troll except Branch, that was.

Branch was nothing like the other trolls. He did not love to sing or dance. He did not party. He did not love glitter and hugs. He didn’t have any friends. Nor did he smile, or celebrate. Perhaps his differences would have been less obvious had it not been for the one stark contrast that separated him from the rest, as plain as the periwinkle noses on a troll’s face: his colors.

Nobody, in the two decades that they’d been around, had ever seen a gray troll. Trolls came in all sorts of colors, sure, but they were all dashing blues, or sweet pinks, or mellow yellows or brilliant greens and oranges and anything else in between… nothing like the dull stone skin and equally dull raven-black hair that made up Branch’s distinguishable features.

While some trolls found it fitting that his dull colors matched his dull mood, most found the phenomenon confusing. What had caused him to be this way? Was it a genetic defect? Or, something else? It was not as though the trolls could ask Branch on the matter. For one, the recluse troll was hardly seen at all. He lived in what he liked to note as his ‘heavily fortified Bergen-proof survival bunker.’ Nobody had ever seen it in person, but judging by the way that he hardly ever had to go off to the village and find supplies needed, they could only assume he was well-off enough to live there for a long while, which worked better for him and his attitude. That said attitude was the second reason in which why nobody could question Branch. ‘Hello’s or ‘Hey, how you doing!’s were met with dismissive grunt, walks the other way, or a stone-cold glare from his dark eyes. Branch never partook in casual conversation. But that didn’t mean that there weren’t conversations about him.

In fact, there were plenty.

How could one not talk about the odd, grumpy troll who was so unlike the rest of them? Who folded his arms, and wore his smile upside down, and scowled any time he heard a cheery greeting or a blaring pop tune – the very same actions he was taking as he lumbered through town.

Branch’s levels of annoyance were at an all-time high now more than ever. In just one week, the grand 20th anniversary party to celebrate their freedom from the Bergens was to take place. Not that he went out of his way to find out, but it had become rather obvious, with the manner in which every single troll talked about it and went on to casually remind him about in addition to their regular greetings.

“It’s going to be the BIGGEST!”

“The LOUDEST!”

“The CRAZIEST party ever!”

Branch scowled. They were all foolish. So incredibly, unbelievably foolish.

But the biggest fool out of them all was her.

Branch spotted Princess Poppy almost instantly in the town as she walked – no, skipped – along merrily handing out the third invitation to the party in that morning alone. He rolled his eyes. Heck, it wasn’t even noon . But nobody seemed bothered by the extra invites. They were quite happy to receive them, either holding onto them or tucking it safely away in their hair to tack onto a board or the fridge once they got to home. Thankfully for him, she hadn’t made her rounds towards him just yet. He’d made sure of that, by remaining discreet, going wherever she wasn’t and sticking to the shadows/outskirts of the town. He knew she’d find him eventually – it was inevitable, but for now he could appreciate the moment while he didn’t have to see her. He couldn’t stand her overly excessive bubbly demeanor. The way her pink arms moved around wildly when she spoke, the way her ponytail bobbed around and her bangs that swished on her forehead. The way her fuchsia eyes sparkled so animatedly, the cute dimples that formed on her cheeks when she flashed that heart-stopping smile…

Branch shook his head roughly, tearing the mental images away from his head, and then scowled. The one thing he hated about Princess Poppy was the way that she made him feel. He couldn’t explain it himself, but it was such a lighthearted feeling, perhaps the closest he would ever feel towards, dare he say, happiness. There was just something about her he admired, though he’d never dare say it out loud. Maybe it was her never-ending compassion and optimism, her desire to want to see the best out of everything and everyone rather than the worst. And that was just her personality. Her beauty on the other hand…

No.

He screeched his brain to a halt before it could go there, before hints of a blush could even begin to formulate on his cheeks and before that goofy, dreamlike smile spread across his face. He chose instead to distract himself with the bag he was holding, adjusting the new set of tools that were inside of it that he’d traveled to Troll Village to get in the first place. Now that he’d gotten them, he could focus on getting out of there and back to his bunker where he belonged. By himself. Alone. With no one else.

But as Branch was soon to find out, it was a matter that was much easier said than done.

As it had been previously stated, one of the many things that most trolls loved to do was sing. Therefore, it was no surprise that throughout town, there was always bound to be a troll belting out a song, or playing a tune out of their shop or on a boombox as they passed along. It was a normal occurrence, and nobody batted an eye or thought twice about it. After all, there were so many great songs out there, and only so many hours in a day, so why not play them?

Among the trolls who held this mentality was one by the name of Creek. This mauve-skinned, green-curled-hair troll was known in the village for his seemingly serene attitude and poised manner of carrying himself out. He was very zen, always acting along practices of inner peace and tranquility, which he believed would allow him to attain the ultimate state of enlightenment alongside his meditation. With these types of beliefs, anybody who saw him would be inclined to believe that it was simply impossible for this troll to hold any dislikes towards anyone.

But little did they know that this was not true.

There was one troll, if he could even call him a troll, that he wasn’t too pleased to see around. Creek didn’t understand why all the other trolls still attempted to be kind to the gray loner when clearly he wasn’t about to give any kindness back. If anything, that troll would put a damper on everyone else. He was a hinderance to the better of the village, an unneeded member, someone he wished would just go away and never return. Creek would get happy sometimes when he never made an appearance sometimes as long as a full month. It almost gave him that illusion that he was gone for good. But then, just when he did think it, the troll would show up again… like he did that morning.

Creek had just gone and turned the corner, about to head for one of the bakery shops that was closer to the outskirts of town when he saw the grumpy gray troll trudging along. He suppressed a scowl (after all, why behave like the very grump he despised?) and prepared to head off in some other direction when he paused and took a closer look. Something was… off . Oh sure, being the only troll who was gray, grumpy, and devoid of any emotions aside from anger was off enough as it was, but this time, something felt a little more off, even for Branch standards. The troll had suddenly stilled, his breathing coming out in shallow, inaudible gasps, and his hands had a slight tremble to them. His blue eyes were not narrowed to their classic scrutinizing look. Instead, they were bulging wide, as though he were glancing in fear of something.

But what?

There was nobody around the troll at that moment. Not even any bugs or sentient flowers. But it was something all right, based on how Branch’s reaction only continued to escalate. So Creek observed, and brainstormed as he did. Let’s see… there’s the weather? He looked up. It was a sunny day, but Branch had been seen out on sunny days before. Not that it did anything to help brighten his mood. There’s… the shops? Nah. On the occasions that he saw Branch, he’d see him pass by these shops on the outskirts of town plenty of times before without so much as batting an eye. The… music from the shops? Creek perked a mauve ear to listen. He recognized that song that was playing, albeit faintly. It was a bold, angelic tune called Total Eclipse of the Heart . A lot of trolls, amongst other songs, really liked this one. Creek would sometimes hum it to himself. It couldn’t be that song… could it? What troll got triggered because of a song of all things? Apparently, Branch did. Because as the song continued, Branch grew visibly more and more disturbed. And that was all it took to know.

Creek stifled a snicker, his hand flying to his mouth to prevent the sound from coming out. Oh, this was rich , richer than the slice of chocolate cake he’d been craving to have at the bakery that he’d been heading to. Why would a SONG scare a troll? But rather than try and answer that question, he had a better idea.

Turning on his heel, Creek scampered off, grateful that he was able to find the Snack Pack so quickly. Princess Poppy, Biggie, Cooper, Smidge, DJ Suki, Fuzzbert, Guy Diamond, Satin and Chenille had all come out of one of the shops, each toting a variety of delicious cakes, cookies, and pies. Conversation was paused as they happily greeted Creek with a bunch of cheery hellos, to which the troll hastily greeted in return.

“Ah yes, namaste, good to see you too, friends… and especially you, Princess Poppy,” he added, playfully tapping her nose with a “boop!”

Poppy giggled, and then her eyes lit up. “Oh! Creek, I don’t think I gave you another one of these!” she said, reaching into her hair and pulling out one of her 20th anniversary invitations to hand to him.

He gladly took it and admired it for a moment before tucking it into his curled green hair. “Ah yes, I would not miss it for the world. And, speaking of things that shouldn’t be missed by the world, I am proud to say that I have been blessed with the most marvelous of sights just a few short moments ago!”

Creek tried not to let his smile go too wide when he piqued the interest of the other trolls. Their eyes brightened and their questions came flying at him.

“Ooo, what is it?” Cooper asked.

“What did – “ Satin started.

“ – you see?” Chenille finished.

“Tell us!” Smidge demanded in her gruff little voice.

“Yeah, I wanna know!” DJ Suki chirped.

“Mr. Dinkles can’t wait to hear it, too!” Biggie said, holding up his pet worm.

“Mew!” Mr. Dinkles squeaked.

“The suuuspeense is kiiiling me, ” Guy Diamond sang out in his shimmery techno-reverb voice.

Poppy glanced at him curiously. “What was it, Creek?”

“Well,” the zen troll began to answer, “it would appear that our dear friend Branch has finally allowed the harmonious melodies that encompass the very core of our lifestyle to become one with his soul.”

He looked to the others for a reaction, but only saw looks of confusion across their faces. Creek sighed, resisting the urge to roll his eyes, and then clarified in layman's terms. “Branch adores music.” He ensured to put an emphasis on the word ‘adores’ and, just as he’d anticipated the first time, the reaction he’d desired came.

Each of Snack Pack’s faces wore a varying degree of shock, none of which could be categorized as mild. Jaws dropped. Eyes wide. Gasps emitted. And then the flurry of questions and comments came.

“Oh my gah!” Smidge cried.

“Naaaw!” Dj Suki exclaimed. “Unbelievable”

“You’re right!” Cooper exclaimed. “I don’t believe it, either!”

“That’s - “ Satin said.

“ - Crazy!” Chenille finished.

“ImpooOoOOsible!” Guy Diamond sang out.

“How could that be?” Biggie asked. Even Mr. Dinkles gave a surprised “mew.”

Poppy, surprisingly enough, was the only one who remained silent at first. She knew Branch. She’d been aching to have him dance and sing and be like the rest of them for years. What her friend Creek was saying seemed incredibly ideal, but just a little… too good to be true. “Are… are you sure ?” she asked him.

Creek put on a sad face. “Oh, what, Poppy, do you not believe me?” he said, making his voice hurt. It worked. Poppy instantly felt bad. This was her friend… her closest friend. Why would he lie? Creek continued hammering in his point. “I can assure you that I am as certain on what I saw as I am that a lovely pink princess will come out every morning to bless our ears with her lovely singing.” He caressed her cheek for good measure, and Poppy giggled, relishing the small touch.

But still… she thought.

“You know… maybe Branch isn’t feeling well?” Poppy suggested. “I mean, he’s just so grumpy and moody all the time, and now all of a sudden he’s happy? I think maybe we could grab Dr. Moonbloom or Dr. Plum to check in on him just in case it’s - “

“NO!” Creek shouted out, a little too loudly than he’d intended, startling Poppy and the Pack. He cleared his throat sheepishly and relaxed. “Pardon me, Poppy, but no, those measures will not be necessary. What I mean is, why use the practices of medicine when you could use a more natural method to cleanse his soul?” He put up a mauve hand. “I say, all of us come at our dear friend Branch with a little music therapy. What do you say, eh?” Creek addressed the Pack, who immediately agreed to his notion with shouts of “Yeah!” “Awesome!” “That’s a plan!” and “Uh huh! Wait… how do we do that?”

That last one had come from Cooper, who was now scratching his green-capped head in slight confusion. Creek strolled over and put a hand on his fuzzy pink shoulder, gesturing his arm out grandly as he explained. “Well, it’s quite simple, friend. We simply harmonize the tune that captured him, in that way, we can further ferment that positive aura within him, yeah?”

“Ohhh…” Cooper said, grinning and nodding. He didn’t know what it meant to ‘ferment’ or what in the world an ‘aura’ was, but Creek sure sounded like he knew what he was talking about, so that was good enough for him. “I’m down with it!” he said. His friends chirped their responses, also liking the sound of the idea.

“Count me in!”

“Great thinking!”

“It’s totally gonna work!”

And yet Poppy still felt uncertainty prick at her. The look must’ve been on her face, because her friends attempted to reason with her.

“Come on, Pops!” Suki said. “You’re always the one who’s trying to get Branch to be happy.”

“And now that you have the opportunity - “ Satin began.

“ - You just want to throw it away?” Chenille finished.

“We have to do it, Poppy!” Biggie said. “Right Mr. Dinkles?” He lifted up his pet worm, who gave a small “mew!” of seeming agreement.

“We’ll never know if we don’t try!” Cooper added.

“Let's doOooOoo it Poppy!” Guy Diamond chimed in.

The friends continued to press at her, Poppy finally looking over at Creek, who only stood there, arms crossed and a grin on his face. He raised an eyebrow at her. “Well, princess?” he asked calmly. “What do you say?”

Poppy finally swallowed, giving in. “I… guess we could - “

A collective “YEAH!” was shouted from the Pack at her agreement, and they whisked her along as they followed Creek’s lead. There’s no harm, Poppy thought. It’s for Branch’s well-being. It’s to make him happy! That was one of the things she’d always wanted. She listened in as Creek spoke to them.

“Now, our friend is just around the corner. And I’m sure you all will be delighted to hear just what song it is that has resonated with him…”

Branch was right where Creek last saw him, still frozen in place, still unreasonably, comically frightened. The possy of blissfully unaware trolls were right behind him ready to belt their hearts out. Creek smiled an anticipatory smile. This was going to be good.

“And I need you now tonight! And I need you moooore, than ever!”

It was easy for Poppy to get into song. Trolls loved to sing, and she dared to say that she loved to sing the most out of every troll in the village. Though, her friends did come in as a pretty close second. They too, presently, were singing just as passionately and heartfelt as she felt she was, hands over their hearts, voices loud and strong.

“And if you only hold me tight! We'll be holding on forever!”

  Poppy had shut her eyes and was swaying to the music, gently moving forward with each step as they all choreographed their way around the gray troll in perfect sync. Their voices grew louder and more passionately so.

“And we’ll only be making it right! Because we’ll never be wrong…”

Poppy briefly opened her eyes, curious to take a peek around her. 

She was delighted to find that the Pack were really into it. Smidge had her arms spread wide, her deep voice adding a bass to the mix, while DJ rocked her hips the widest. Biggie and Cooper had their arms slung around each others’ necks, singing the loudest, and Satin and Chenille held hands whilst they swung their free ones. Guy Diamond’s techno-y voice was adding wonderfully into the mix, and Creek’s soothing, gentle one complimented it well. But her real interest lay in the troll of the hour, the one who all of this was being done for in the first place. The one who…

Poppy paused, the lyrics of the song trailing off as she stared in growing confusion. 

The one who…

Poppy furrowed her eyebrows, uncertain and unnerved. 

The one who…

… Was having a panic attack?

The princess had never seen a panic attack from the start. No troll ever panicked, not with how happy the village ensured that its residents remained. And the closest thing that ever came to panic was when Branch himself burst into Birthday parties, or weddings, or even funerals to shout out one of his most common catchphrases, “ The Bergens are coming!! AHH!!” However, if Poppy had to guess, it was exactly what was happening to Branch at that very moment. Why else would he have grown stone-still, save for the visible trembling in his arms and legs, beads of sweat shining on his forehead and his blue eyes with an even more look of wild in them? If anything aside from the happiness that Creek had said he was feeling, Poppy had expected the grumpy gray troll to be wearing his characteristic frown and look of annoyance. Not… this. No, no, no, something was wrong. Something was very wrong. And she needed to get the others to stop before she could find out exactly what. 

“Guys?” Poppy said. “I think… I think we need to tone it down…”

In saying it, Poppy hadn’t realized how uncharacteristically low her voice sounded until she saw that nobody had responded to what she said, all still in the same manner that she saw them last. Branch was not getting any better. Poppy tried again, raising her voice.

“Guys! Please, we need to stop!”

But it was as if she’d said the opposite. The voices felt like they had grown louder. And that’s when Poppy realized - the Snack Pack was too far gone. It was something very easy to get lost in song. Even more when you had a group of friends who rubbed off on each other. Poppy was not one to think such a thing as she was, given that she herself had fallen victim to getting lost in song plenty a time before, but how she wished that her friends hadn’t. Even so, Poppy had to try. She clapped her hands, trying to tap Smidge, or Cooper, or Biggie, or anyone who’d possibly break free of the song’s spell.

“Guys! This is serious! We need to - “

“AAAAAGGGHHH!!!”

The cry had not come from Poppy. Nor the friends. It was so sudden, so startling, that Poppy jumped at least a few inches into the air. It was harsh, almost animalistic, and certainly fearful. The shout was so shockingly piercing in fact that it had been enough to make her friends come to, and gawk in utter surprise at the gray troll who’d voiced it. Satin and Chenille’s jaws had dropped. Biggie was cuddling Mr. Dinkles close. Cooper pushed his hat back to get a better look. Suki lowered her headphones from her ears. Smidge had uttered an “Oh my gah,” quietly. Even Creek was staring in wonder, eyes wide. 

Branch was on his knees, his back hunched so he faced the ground, hands were over his ears in tight fists, some strands of his charcoal black hair entangled between his gray fingers. He panted loudly, as though having run a marathon-long race, with some exasperated grunts thrown in, again more akin to that of an animal.

Poppy began to speak after a few seconds, slowly, hesitantly. “Guys, I… uh… I don’t think - “

But that was when a voice shouted out at them, with a commanding “ back up!” Heads whirled around to find King Peppy, who’d miraculously been a short distance away and had heard a majority of the commotion go down. In a more apologetic tone, he carefully pushed his way into the circle, guiding the Pack aside.

“Excuse me, thank you, pardon me, and please stand back.”

Once in, all his attention went to the gray troll, who was nearly on the verge of hyperventilation. 

“Branch?” he said softly.

There was no response from him.

“Branch, listen to me, it’s all right. There’s no need to behave in this manner.”

King Peppy went in to pat his shoulder. Branch jerked as though he’d just felt an electrical shot, backing up and away from the king in one swift motion, and bolted, shoving DJ and Smidge who were closest to his escape route out of the way.

Nobody did anything for a moment. The other trolls awkwardly looked away, shuffling on their feet or rubbing an arm. King Peppy sighed, disappointed that he once again could not reach out to the self-outcasted troll. He exchanged a glance with his daughter as he walked off, too exhausted and confused to question anything at the moment.

Poppy bit her lip. She knew there would eventually have to be some explaining to do.

Chapter Text

Branch always felt relief when he came home, however none felt greater than the relief he'd felt upon his arrival this time around.

He nearly ran into the boulder by his home, thrusting open the latch that was his doormat and getting inside while shutting the door with a slam. Bright warm daylight switched to cool gray and brown shadows as he quickly pulled the lever, allowing the platform to descend down the cavernous pathway, and dismounted. It was then, only when he knew he was as far down as he could get and as far away from anyone else that he could be, that Branch let loose the wave of hot tears that had been pooling behind his eyes the entire way there. He was hardly a crier, not since his youth anyway, but it couldn’t be helped. Not when her memory had plagued his mind, lingering and haunting, biting and biting at him until he’d finally screamed out in pain.

He cried, frustrated and ashamed, wishing that at the same time that he could and could not recall that memory so perfectly in his head, as though it’d only occurred seconds prior and not nearly two decades ago…

It had been a beautiful day.

The sun shone elegantly overhead, illuminating everything below. The leaves were greener. The flowers were even more colorful. Branch was delighted to have been blessed with such amazing weather. He was even more delighted when Grandma Rosiepuff had finished her round of laundry and was merrily making her way outside the pod to work on hanging it to dry. Branch skipped merrily along behind her, his blue feet bouncing along in uncontrolled giddiness. Grandma giggled at the sight of her young grandson so cheery and patted his shoulder.

“Branch,” she said softly, sweetly, “Why don’t you sing for me while I hang the laundry, hmm?”

The young troll bobbed his head up and down excitedly, happy to comply with his grandmother’s request. If he wanted to hear her sing, he was going to make sure of it. Branch scampered along to a clear spot and plucked a small rose from the ground. He cleared his throat and held the little flower up to his mouth, using it as a pretend microphone. He opened his mouth, but then stopped, realizing that he wasn’t even sure WHAT to sing. He turned to looked at his grandmother.

“Grandma?”

 His grandmother, who had begun to take out clothespins and was in the process of hanging up a blanket glanced at her grandson. “Yes, Branch dear?”

“What song do you want me to sing?” he asked.

His grandmother shrugged. “Oh, you can sing whatever you’d like dear. It doesn’t matter. I’ll like anything you sing!”

Branch grinned, a song already coming to mind. “Okay!” The little troll planted his feet firmly in the ground and tilted his head back, beginning to serenade into his flower microphone.

“Turn around,

Every now and then

I get a little bit lonely

And you're never coming 'round…”

His voice started off softly at the first verse, just getting warmed up, and then he continued a bit more stronger at the second verse.

“Turn around,

Every now and then

I get a little bit tired

Of listening to the sound of my tears…”

Branch swayed lightly from side to side, letting the music carry his next verse.

“Turn around,

Every now and then

I get a little bit nervous

That the best of all the years have gone by…”

He continued to sing, his voice picking up and his heart into the song.

“Turn around,

Every now and then

I get a little bit nervous

That the best of all the years have gone by

Turn around,

Every now and then

I get a little bit terrified

And then I see the look in your eyes

Turn around, bright eyes,

Every now and then I fall apart

Turn around, bright eyes,

Every now and then

I fall apart

Turn around,

Every now and then

I get a little bit restless

And I dream of something wild

Turn around,

Every now and then

I get a little bit helpless

And I'm lying like a child in your arms

Turn around,

Every now and then

I get a little bit angry

And I know I've got to get out and cry

Turn around,

Every now and then

I get a little bit terrified

But then I see the look in your eyes

Turn around, bright eyes,

Every now and then

I fall apart

Turn around, bright eyes

Every now and then

I fall apart

And I need you now tonight

And I need you more than ever

And if you only hold me tight

We'll be holding on forever

And we'll only be making it right

'Cause we'll never be wrong…”

Branch dipped his head back, his voice full and rich, everything about that moment invested purely into the song. He swayed more, pretending that he was singing to a full audience, the stands dimmed and the trolls gently swinging glow bugs back and forth like lights as they sung along with him. Like the way it used to be, alongside his older brothers, whenever they performed…

But for now, Branch was just happy to have his grandma as his audience. His grandma, and the flowers and bugs who hummed or bzzzed along with him…

And also another unwelcome audience of whom the young little troll was entirely unaware of.

Because as Branch was too busy belting out his tune, he failed to notice the huge, looming body of the gigantic beast the lurked just a few yards away, watching, snickering with disgusting delight at the unaware troll and picturing his flavor on her tongue.

The little Trolling had been lucky however. For it would seem that his life would have been cut short at that very moment, with only five short years of laughter and songs that made it up, had it not been for his grandmother. She had only casually looked up from her laundry, shooting her singing little grandson a look of admiration when she felt her blood run cold at the horror that was behind him.

A BERGEN.

Abandoning the piles of clothes without a second thought, Grandma Rosiepuff hurriedly dashed over, yelling her grandson’s name in desperation.

“BRANCH!”

But Branch just kept singing. He was too lost in the song, too lost in that perfect harmonic moment to ever be –

“BRANCH!!!”

The little troll forced his eyes open, the sound of his grandmother’s voice finally breaking through his reverie, and looked up in terror to find the one thing he’d been warned about time and time again, had heard of but never seen, had been scared by the occasional nightmare of – those nightmares of which were going to increase tenfold from what he was about to witness.

A weight knocked into him, shoving him hard to one side and knocking him off the mushroom that he’d been on top of. It was only after he tumbled down to the ground below and shook the shock off himself that he realized that the said weight was his own Grandmother. And it didn’t occur to him why she’d done that, until he saw for himself the huge, ugly clawed hand closing in around her. He heard her scream in despair, the troll unable to break free of the grasp of the dreadful creature as she was carried away in one horrid swoop.

Branch looked up in horror, a hand outstretched helplessly toward the scene.

“GRANDMA!!”

But Grandma, of course, had not returned. It was the last time that he’d ever seen her. And he had to see her like that, fearfully screaming, her own life taken.

Because of HIM.

Because of his singing, because of his ignorance to the dangers lurking around him. Because of his… his stupidity.

The realization was all too much for the young Trolling to bear.

His heart breaking, Branch kneeled, motionless on the cold, hard ground, a few lone tears pooling out of his eyes, the rose he’d been singing with wilted of its petals next to him. He barely reacted when he saw the bright blue hue of his arms, legs, and body dull further and further until it was nothing more than a stone-gray color. The color that would remain permanently with him through the rest of his Trolling years, into his teenhood, and as an adult.

Oh, how much better it would have been if he were the one to have gotten eaten. At least his life would’ve been short and happy, and he wouldn’t have to suffer the manner that he was suffering now, wrought on believing that he really would be better off dead…

No.

STOP.

He couldn’t go there now. Not again.

Just imagine… Imagine Creek like that. Yelling for mercy from the Bergens. Yes. Maybe in a taco covered in hot sauce and served on a silver platter. Yes. He let a small chuckle escape him in picturing the smug troll’s expression contorted in a grimace as he squirmed from the itchy sauce all over his body. Yes. That’d be good.

Pulling himself out of the old memories, Branch sighed, wiping his watery eyes and peering down at his colorless skin and almost, almost wishing that he could perhaps see a hint of the old blue that it used to be. Perhaps even almost wishing that he could even be like the other trolls…

Uh-UH.

The other trolls… why in the world would he want to be like them? Them and their partying ways, and endless energy, and loud, annoying music, and glitter and scrapbooks…

To be accepted.

To actually have friends.

To be closer to… HER.

Closer to the girl he hated to admit that he loved with all his heart, and not stuck down here, in this place. While his bunker was a place of safety, it was also a place of darkness and unfulfilling solitude. He grimaced a little, looking at all the deep scratches he’d carved into the wall in anger, at all the thumbtacked drawings and insane-like rambles he’d scribbled furiously onto notebook pages and hung around the place of Bergens, and death, and other horrors. He probably would’ve added another one or two to the mix. But he didn’t. He just didn’t have the energy to do so.

Branch turned away from the display, coming to the forlorn realization that there just might be something that was worse than death. But unlike his warnings on the Bergens, this was something that he was not willing to holler out to the other Trolls in warning.

To be alone.

It was a slow death in itself, he came to note with much disdain. It had already succeeded in killing his colors, his happiness, his hope…

Alone.

Despite his ten-year supply of rations, hundreds of weaponry and traps, and jars of collected bodily sweat that he was willing to drink (which would extend his survival by another year), he knew that sooner or later, it would succeed in killing him as well.

Alone.

Branch clenched his fists. He hadn’t always been alone, he had to remind himself. He had belonged, once, even if it was a lifetime ago. Vague recollections of himself as a Trolling alongside his parents, his grandmother, and his four elder brothers would appear in his vision at times. What had happened? Why couldn’t it be that way again? Because maybe then, he could once again be… be…

Alive.

How dead he felt inside, merely surviving, not actually living. Not taking everyday for what it was worth and actually making something out of it. Something, that he knew she did.

But alas, this was the way his life was.

It wasn’t the best, but it wasn’t the worst either. Life had to be taken as it was. It wasn’t fair sometimes – that sometimes being his own – but it was what it was. Change would come – could come – but for now, this was the way that he’d have to make do with. And making do is something that Branch had become quite the expert in. He’d made do when his brothers had ditched him. He’d made do when that… other event happened (one of which he would not recollect again for the time being). He’d make do now.

A growl in his stomach arose, giving a seeming finality to those thoughts, offering an escape from them so that he could continue about. Branch was a little surprised. He’d figured his appetite would be gone for the remainder of that day.

Slowly, he crawled back up from his hunched position, his feet feeling as heavy as stone from the effort, and trudged his way to the kitchen.

Chapter Text

The Snack Pack was relatively quiet that next day.

Poppy, Creek, Biggie, Cooper, Smidge, DJ Suki, Fuzzbert, Guy Diamond, Satin and Chenille had all gathered at the princess's pod to assist her in finalizing some scrapbook projects that she had begun a while back and had not been able to get to amid her royal duties. Now, the ten friends were splayed in all parts of her room, diligently working at cutting, pasting, and glittering up whatever they could. Faces were scrunched in concentration - after all, scrapbooking is serious business - as one or two of them hummed a tune to pass by the time. Poppy was working contently piecing together a section that was going to be a pop-up display, when a new voice broke through her focus.

"Well, well, aren't you all a bunch of busy little bees!"

Poppy set down her scissors and smiled when she looked up and saw her father enter. Immediately, the rest of the Snack Pack did the same, setting their work aside and bringing their attention to the king.

King Peppy smiled at them and continued speaking. "I bet you all are quite excited about the party next week.

Smiles spread around the rooms and heads nodded eagerly just thinking about it.

"And I bet some of you even have dates. Smidge," King Peppy turned to look at the little yellow troll with the long blue hair. "I presume Milton Moss is taking you."

At the mention of the veterinarian troll, Smidge blushed and was unable to form words, so she nodded.

"And you, Guy," King Peppy said, glancing over at the Glitter Troll. "Gia Grooves, am I right?"

Guy Diamond gave him a thumbs up, singing out "yooouu are corrreeect!"

King Peppy chuckled. "And Poppy..." He glanced over at his daughter with a fond smile. "I would imagine that you could take your pick. Anybody in mind?"

The princess blushed, all too aware of the presence of the mauve-skinned troll who was beside her. “Maybe,” was all she said.

King Peppy said nothing at first, only nodding in reply. "There's going to be plenty of songs playing there too. Lots of great ones. Celebration, Party Rock Anthem... Total Eclipse of the Heart..."

Poppy felt herself cringe slightly at the king's casual mention of the song, realizing that it had been fully intentional when he glanced at her and her friends, the warmth in his eyes and voice suddenly dwindled significantly.

"Oh... but perhaps not that song, right? Some trolls don't have a fancy for that song, so I heard," he continued with slight sarcasm. Now the king crossed his arms, his tone serious. The Snack Pack felt themselves nearly shrink on the spot. “I think you all know why I’m here, now…”

Instantly, everyone began speaking at once.

“We didn’t mean it, King Peppy, sir!”

“Well, we did mean it, but not in that way!”

“We had no clue – “

“ – that he would react that way!”

“PleeEeeaAaassEee don’t be maaAAaaAd!”

“I think we just had the wrong idea!”

“It’s not what you think!”

“All right now, settle down!” King Peppy exclaimed, waving his hands in the air. “Now please, one at a time, please try to explain what happened yesterday with Branch.”

Biggie jumped right in to start. “We were all singing to him!”

“And we thought that by singing to him – “ Satin started.

“ – he would sing along to!” Chenille finished.

“It was ‘musical therapy’!” Cooper added.

Musical therapy? King Peppy was a little confused. “But… what made you think you had to do this in the first place?”

“It was Creek!” DJ Suki said.

Next to her Smidge nodded, and explained. “He told us, and I quote, ‘the compass in his soul is the one melody!’ Or… something like that.”

King Peppy raised an eyebrow and looked over at Creek suspiciously. The king was one of the few Trolls who had paid a close enough attention to the Zen Troll to know that he did not have a particular liking towards Branch. “Creek, is this true?”

Creek sighed and sat up straighter, the look on his face made pitiful and his gaze turned apologetic. “Despite the signs of which I believed to be clear in leading me to determine that Branch had aligned his tune to that of a brighter one, it would appear that they were misread.”

King Peppy blinked. “I’m sorry, could you repeat – “

“I thought I saw one thing, but I was wrong,” Creek said, doing his best to hide any annoyance in his voice.

King Peppy rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I see…” he said. “But I don’t think any of you did. Did you not see how… how…” He tried to think of the right word to use. “… Distressed he was?”

I did, Poppy said silently to herself, looking down at the floor. The Pack felt ashamed in their failure to notice as well, the disappointment in the king’s voice.

“I guess… we just kind of got lost in the song…” DJ said quietly, the other trolls murmuring in agreement.

King Peppy sighed. He figured that much, as many Trolls often found themselves lost in song. Like Branch had, all those years ago. The king was one of the only Trolls to be aware of the poor gray Troll’s complicated history. Not even his own daughter knew, and it was not information that he was going to be revealing to anyone anytime soon.

“All I ask,” King Peppy began, “is that you please just be a little more mindful in the future. Especially for Branch, but that goes for any troll, too. Not everyone has the same likes and dislikes that we do, and we have to respect that. Are we understood?”

Nods and ‘yes sirs’ answered him.

King Peppy breathed a sigh of relief, happy to sense the genuine regret. “Good. Now, you may continue along with what you’re doing. I have a few festivities to oversee.”

Poppy, who’d been silent, piped up, feeling a need to be helpful. “Did you want me to come with you, Dad?”

He smiled. “No, that’s okay, sweetheart. Hang out with your friends for a bit longer, alright? You work hard enough as it is.”

But so do you, Dad…

He embraced her, and she hugged him back tightly, wishing to convey her sorrow for what had occurred and hoping that he knew that she was sorry.

It’s not enough just to be sorry…

Poppy realized this. And she wanted to fix it.

There were two things that helped get Poppy back in a good mood should the rare occurrence of her feeling a bit glum ever come up. One was a deliciously crafted ice-cream sundae, complete with all of her favorite dessert toppings, including sprinkles, chocolate syrup, and the classic cherry on top. The other was the company of her closest friend, Creek. His smooth voice and Zen advice made her feel giddy and warm on the inside, and it helped uplift her spirits. And so, with their lunch date of sorts that she had arranged, Poppy was hoping that she could accomplish just that.

“There’s our princess,” the voice she recognized cooed from behind her. 

“Creek!” Poppy grinned and leapt right into his arms, the troll spinning her around once before he set her down and gave her a proper greeting hug. Then, he took her hand.

“Shall we go, princess? That sundae’s not going to eat itself, you know,” he said, winking.

Poppy giggled, letting him tug them forward. “Yep! Come on!”

Before Poppy knew it, the two trolls had let two full hours of idle conversation pass by, talking and laughing about whatever thing came to mind. It was far too easy to get caught up chatting with the serene troll. But, there were still other matters that needed to be discussed, and Creek could easily tell that the pink princess had something serious on her mind, especially with the slight furrow of her brows every once in a while. And so, when the laughter of the most recent exchange of stories had died down, he addressed the matter.

“Poppy,” he said, his voice smooth as silk and peaceful-sounding as he always made it, “you look awfully worn. Please don’t tell me it’s the stress of the royal duties again. Remember those breathing exercises we talked about?”

Poppy shook her head. “No… I-I mean, yes I do remember the breathing exercises, but no, it’s not about that.”

“Oh?” Creek raised an eyebrow. “Then what is it about, princess?”

Poppy opened her mouth, ready to tell, but then closed it again, going uncharacteristically quiet. She believed she had been more than ready to tell him about her plan, but now that the time came to, she suddenly wasn’t so confident anymore. This did not dissuade Creek, however. He smiled sweetly at her, scooting himself closer and taking her hand in his, giving it a reassuring pat. She blushed at the contact as he spoke.

“Poppy, you don’t need to be afraid to tell me. You know as well as I that we are very good friends, and I am here to support you and your decisions.”

She smiled gratefully, a little shy at how gentle he was being and at the familiar happiness that it stirred within her. But his next words brought those feelings to a halt.

“And perhaps,” he whispered, lifting one of his hands to softly caress her pink freckled cheek, “maybe even a little more than a friend.”

Poppy felt her eyebrows crease in worry. She wasn’t fully ready for a serious, committed relationship with anyone, but she certainly did like Creek, and the mauve troll certainly did have a fancy for her himself. Anybody with two eyes could see that. Poppy admittedly could appreciate his positive aura and controlled behavior in any given situation, as well as all the sweet little moments they had spent together. Which is why revealing her idea to him would be all the much harder to do. A part of her wanted to scrap the plan altogether, but she knew that not undertaking it was not the better option. At least, not for a certain gray troll she was attempting to help.

She placed her hand on his that was on her cheek and gently guided it back down, still holding on. “You promise you’ll hear me out?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” he assured, booping her on the nose to relieve some of her lingering tension.

It worked, as she giggled and then began to explain.

“Well,” she said, “it’s actually about Branch.”

Had the princess been slightly more observant, she would have noticed the sudden stiffness that passed through her friend at the mention of the gray troll, but it was gone the next instant. Creek spoke smoothly in response, as if nothing had happened. “Branch? What about him?”

“Well,” Poppy said again, “he… uh… I want him to come to the party.”

“You do?” Creek said. “Oh, princess, he’ll say no again. And do you know what he’ll do to your lovely invitation? Rip it to pieces. Throw it in the river. Leave it out for the Puffalo to chew!”

Poppy shook her head. “But I haven’t even asked him yet! We don’t know for sure!”

Creek rolled his eyes. “He may as well have already done it,” he remarked distastefully. Then he made his voice honey-sweet again. “Poppy, you just need to tune out his negative vibrations. They’re toxic. Some folks, they just don’t want to be happy.”

“But I want everyone to be happy,” Poppy blurted before she could stop herself. “Even Branch.”

Creek sighed. “Princess, I know you do, but you can’t just force him. He won’t agree.”

“I’m not going to force him,” Poppy assured. “But I am going to try and ask him.”

“You’ve done that before,” Creek reminded her gently. “With lots of other invitations.”

“I know, I know, but this time I’m gonna try a lot harder than I have in the past. Like, a LOT more harder!”

Creek shrugged. “Well, whatever floats your boat, princess. But just don’t be so disappointed when it doesn’t turn out so lucky.”

“Oh, I won’t be disappointed,” she said. “Because he’s going to say yes!” Poppy smiled, already thinking of her victory.

Creek chuckled. “Oh? And what makes you so sure?”

“Because I’m trying something new,” she said. She continued on when Creek looked expectantly at her to finish that thought. She took a deep breath, ready for her revelation. Here goes nothing… “I’m not inviting him as… a friend…”

For a moment, Creek blinked, attempting to process what it was that she said. Then, something seemed to flash within his eyes. Poppy could almost call it a dark look, had it not been for the fact that it was no longer present within the span of the next second.

“Princess,” he said, slowly, as though he were trying to control himself, “are you telling me that you want Branch to be your date?”

“Well, I… Yes.” That’s all there was to it. That was what she was trying to say. It was the truth, for the sake of her plan.

Creek did not seem to still fully get it. Or, if he did, he was incredibly displeased. “You want Branch - the gray, grouchy, invitation-ripping, songless Troll of the village – to be your date?” He huffed, taking his own advice and commencing the breathing exercises he’d advised her on. Namaste, Creek, he thought to himself, we can’t lose it now. “Poppy,” he said, his voice not exactly the sweet tone that he was aiming for, “Sometimes, if we’re too stressed, we can crack. And when we crack, we don’t think straight. We start saying things that don’t make any sense - ”

“Creek, I am thinking straight!” Poppy insisted.

“Poppy, have you heard yourself?” the mauve Troll asked. “Branch as your date? He hardly expresses interest in wanting to come to any of your parties as a friend!”

“Maybe he needs that push,” the pink Troll said. “Everything I’ve done before hasn’t worked. This is something different! Something he might even agree to! And you’ll never know what could happen if you don’t take the effort and find out – “

“Find out what? That he’ll just do the same thing again?” Creek frowned slightly. “And then what? You won’t enjoy the party as much thinking about it. And I don’t want that to happen to you.”

“I won’t enjoy the party if I know I didn’t even try!”

Creek shook his head. He had to get through to Poppy. “Suppose he, by some miracle, said yes. What is everyone else going to think about it? What will your father think?”

“Dad would want me to try,” Poppy said confidently. “He hasn’t stopped me before. No Troll Left Behind, remember?”

“But he also did say to be more mindful. That not everyone has the same likes and dislikes. Just this morning, Princess.” Creek continued on before Poppy could say anything. “And what about Cooper and Biggie, and Smidge and Satin and Chenille and DJ? They’re not exactly thrilled to have Branch always reminding them about the Bergens.”

“I know,” Poppy admitted, “but in the end they want Branch to be happy, too! And... I thought you’d be happy about this, too.”

“Right,” Creek said, chuckling but not in a cheery way. “You go on one date with that Troll – if you can even call him that – you’ll want to go on more.”

“Creek, come on,” Poppy pleaded. “And what do you mean ‘if you can even call him that’? Branch is a Troll!”

“He’s not the same as everyone else,” Creek pointed out. “Surely, you can see that, Princess. What kind of true Troll doesn’t sing or dance or hug every hour?”

“Just because he’s different doesn’t mean he’s bad or anything,” the pink Troll answered.

“In this case it does. Look how poorly he’s treated you all this time!”

“H-he, might be a teensy bit rude sometimes,” Poppy said, “but that’s just because I haven’t gotten to really know him that well. That’s why I’m trying to set up this date. Maybe if I did know him better, he won’t be so closed off all the time!”

Creek sighed, getting tired of the conversation. “It’s all just wishful thinking, Princess. Why fret yourself over one Troll when you’ve already got the whole village on your side?”

“Because everyone deserves to be happy,” Poppy insisted. “Branch has happiness inside of him. He might know it, he might not know it. He just needs our help to find it!”

Creek resisted rolling his eyes. “No, Princess. He needs your help, clearly. Don’t involve me.”

Poppy was appalled. Talking to her friend was supposed to make her worries go away, not increase them! “Creek, please don’t act like this. It’s for this one time!”

“Poppy, I’ve told you how I feel about this. And if you’re unwilling to listen to your subjects, well… maybe that’s not shaping you out to be the right queen we need.”

Poppy was stunned by his words. “Wh-what?” she stammered.

Creek stood up. “I’ll tell you what. I will help you with this. By not getting in your way. That’ll make things easy for you, I’m sure, that way I won’t cause a hinderance when you Branch go on your date to the party. Deal?” He leaned over and caressed her cheek, but suddenly Poppy didn’t welcome the touch. It was gentle enough in its nature, but had a rough undertone. “Deal,” he finished. He gave the speechless princess a quick “boop” on the nose before he turned around and left.

Poppy stared after him, her stomach starting to churn so that she couldn’t bear even looking at the cherry that had remained at the end of her sundae, let alone want to eat it. Her eyes suddenly watered. Never before had she and Creek had an argument, and, while it hadn’t been an intense one, it had still been an argument nonetheless, and knowing that it was made Poppy feel terrible.

I’m not a bad princess… am I?

Poppy didn’t think she was. She had heard Creek’s opinion on the matter, and made her own decision in the end. I mean, that’s what her father did day in and day out, right? She’d seen her father reject things before, even though it hardly ever happened, and no troll held the decisions he made against him. They knew that it was for the better of the village in the end. And her plan now, that was for the better of the village, too, wasn't it?

Yes, it is!

By making Branch happy again, it was a win-win - Branch would not have to feel like he was an outcast, and the village would have yet another friend to sing and dance and share hugs with. It was a flawless plan on paper, one that deserved an award if she should say so herself! Executing it though… that was an entirely different story. She knew one thing for certain: it was going to be extremely difficult, one of the most challenging things she’ll have ever done. Because this time, she had to really push herself, really had to make sure that Branch would see things her way. A 20th anniversary party only happened once, after all, and missing it meant that there was no way he could ever have the opportunity to have that experience again (unless, somehow, a time machine was invented). And, also, it was going to be difficult because she had to undertake this mission alone.

It was made clear to her that if her closest friend would not offer his assistance to her plan, then it was most likely that the others may be apprehensive about the matter.

What if Creek has already gone off to tell them?

And how was it that he would tell them? Would he tell them what he’d said to her, about Branch not even being a ‘real troll’? Would he tell them about how it was a silly plan? Would he tell them about her not being a good future queen? Poppy sharply inhaled her breath.

Oh, goodness, I hope not.

But Poppy wouldn’t be Poppy if she didn’t push the negativity away and look on the bright side. A set look of determination came across her face. She was going to follow through with her plan, no matter what anyone thought of her. Creek may think there was a one in a millionth chance that Branch would want to come to the 20th anniversary party, especially as her date, but the way Poppy saw it, the chance was still ONE in a million, not ZERO. Meaning, there was still a chance. And it was a chance that she was absolutely willing to take.

I’ll talk to Branch tomorrow, she thought to herself, already envisioning their interaction. But, now that she thought about it, it was still lunch hour, and there was still more than plenty of hours left in the day, some of which were to be unoccupied from her royal duties.

No, not tomorrow, Poppy corrected herself. TONIGHT.

Chapter Text

A fairly typical rest of the day followed for both Branch and Poppy.

Poppy helped around town with whatever royal duties it was that she sought to accomplish, whether it was managing parties, helping with a shop’s sale, assisting with little odd jobs here and there, and so forth. No matter what it was, Poppy was thrilled to help, and the folks she was helping were thrilled of her presence.

Branch on the other hand spent his evening as he nearly almost always did. He sulked around the bunker, his gray face drawn and his eyes tired, having barely gotten any sleep from the previous night due to nightmares. Coffee helped keep him somewhat alert, and he had to have some kind of attentiveness should a Bergen ever find his hideout. He sipped some of the black, somewhat lukewarm drink at that moment and smacked his lips at the strong flavor it provided. It was pure and potent, no other extra additives like sugar or creamers or anything else that he sought was not necessary. As he looked up towards his earthen brown ceiling, he noted that the lighting around the cracks of his platform was getting slightly dimmer. In this way, he knew that evening was starting to settle in. He sighed. He also knew that it was time to get moving.

While he would’ve preferred to stay inside his bunker and not have to deal with the risk of running into anytroll (or possible stray Bergen for that matter), Branch knew that it was necessary to still gather the stock of supplies that he needed to obtain. This list was a bit longer, as he wanted to make sure that everything he needed would be inside his bunker before the surefire Apocalypse occurred - AKA, the 20th anniversary party, which, in his eyes, was just pure Bergen bait. Yes, he knew he had a ten-year ration supply of goods, but that was an emergency stash. He was not going to touch it, lest a Bergen invade and force him to take refuge underground for the allotted time that he had stowed away for.

Branch surprised himself when he was easily able to switch out of his mossy green robe, slip on his brown shorts and leafy vest, and easily ascend up the platform. He’d figured he would still be on edge to go out into the world after his… incident that occurred the previous day, and the memory that came with it still very fresh on his mind. But he had no issues, didn’t fall to his knees when he stepped foot on the platform and knew that he was about to go and possibly run into the very trolls who’d watched him have his breakdown. Branch snorted. Maybe I’m used to it. Perhaps he’d grown so numb to the hurt, that it was about as common as any other daily routine was, like bathing or eating. He stifled a bitter laugh. To have reached that point was such a horrible thing.

He listened as the bunker’s platform whirred up the passageway, taking him up and up past his stash of stored items, and up to the entrance. He unlocked the trapdoor and stepped out… and nearly bumped right into Princess Poppy.

As she’d promised herself, Poppy had immediately gone off to find Branch and talk to him as soon as she was relieved of her royal duties for the day. She knew his bunker’s location, thanks to her dad, who years ago had told her that as future queen, it was important to look after everyone in the village’s well-being and be aware of their location in it. Though, despite knowing the location of Branch’s bunker, she hadn’t dropped by there very often or even at all due to the troll wanting his privacy, of course. This matter however, she considered urgent, so, whether he ended up liking it or, most likely, not, this was something that she was going to take care of.

But as she approached the brown welcome mat - or rather unwelcome mat, with the way it said ‘GO AWAY’ with bold white letters on it - and the gray boulder that she was going to knock on, the mat suddenly opened up like a trapdoor, and out came the gray troll that she was aiming to see. He was facing away from her when he first climbed out, smoothing down his leafy green vest and reshutting the hatch. It was then that he turned around, and stopped in his tracks, nearly bumping into her. The hand that Poppy had raised and was about to use to knock on the boulder went right back down at her side as the two of them just stared at each other in a brief silence, a startled look on both of their faces.

Creek was wrong, Poppy thought to herself. Now up close, she could actually see for herself that he really was no different than any of the other trolls in the village. His leafy vest did not look strange and untamed, but rather organized on his figure. His brown shorts were clearly patched, but it didn’t look odd or off-putting (despite what her fashionista friends Satin and Chenille would probably say about it). His stone-gray skin was not as drab as she’d thought, but, she thought that if she looked real close, she could maybe see a faint hint of another color, just maybe, though it was still too gray for her to tell exactly what color. Green? Blue? Purple? She wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just the lightning of that section of the forest. And then there was his hair - a deep, rich black that was bold and quite smooth-looking, and also seemed to shine with some other hidden color underneath. Yes. He really ISN’T that different, Poppy mused. Maybe even a little bit handsome, she thought silently to herself, though it was a thought that was relatively quiet among the other myriad of thoughts in her head.

Suddenly, Poppy remembered why it was that she was there, and she smiled. “Hi, Branch! How are you?”

Branch’s startled look also disappeared at her greeting, and it was replaced with that scowl he always seemed to know how to wear. “‘How am I doing’?” he repeated, mockingly. “How do you think I’m doing?”

Poppy felt her cheeks get warm with an embarrassed blush. Well, I don’t imagine it’s very good, she wanted to say, which was the truth, but she bit her tongue to prevent herself. What was she even thinking asking such a question? For Poppy, it was instinct. She always liked to ask her friends how they were carrying about. But the thing was, Branch wasn’t even her friend. She wanted him to be, but the feeling didn’t seem to be mutual on his end.

But that can change.

“Well…” Poppy began, trying to choose her words carefully. “I… um… I don’t want to make any assumptions,” she said finally, resolutely.

Branch rolled his eyes and made his way past her. “Yeah, okay, sure” he huffed, annoyed, and not answering her question.

Poppy whirled around. “No, Branch, wait! There was something I wanted to tell you!”

He stopped. “What is it?” he asked her roughly.

“Um… here,” she reached into her hair and pulled out the invitation that she had reserved for him. “The 20th anniversary party is in six days. We’d all love you there!”

Branch scrunched his nose at the invite as it opened and, like usual, sprayed its blast of glitter onto his face while it played some cheesy tune. This time, it was a little scrapbook figurine of himself, singing something about “celebrating freedom from the Bergens.” It was so unlike him, he felt disgusted. Was this how Poppy saw him?

“Wow, Poppy,” he said quite sarcastically. “I had no idea that the party was in less than a week!”

“Oh! Then I’m glad I came when I did!” Poppy said. “I wanna make sure everybody knows, so they won’t miss out!”

“Poppy, I’m NOT going,” Branch stated bluntly.

“Branch, you say that about every party. Why don’t you think about it, please?” Poppy said.

“Oh, okay, let’s see, hmmm….” Branch, in an exaggerated fashion, began tapping a finger to his chin and scratching his head, like he was deep in thought for a minute, and then he gave her a deadpanned look. “Yeah, the answer is still no.” He snatched the invitation that she was still outstretching to him, and huffed off. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some more important things to take care of.”

“Come on, Branch!” Poppy called after him, but he still refused to turn around.

“Oh, and by the way, Poppy, this is going to make great firewood!” he said, waving her card into the air as he disappeared out of view and into the forest.

Poppy clenched her fists, kicking the ground and muttering “Sugar!” under her breath. She had reminded herself that this wasn’t going to be an easy mission, and yet, she had still hoped that he’d say an immediate yes, just to make both of their lives easier. But being Princess meant dealing with challenges like this, and resolving them. Plus, there were still six more days until the party. Tomorrow was a brand new one, and Poppy had plenty of spare invitations that she’d made for Branch. Grinning, she skipped off, making a quick stop at the outside of his bunker before heading off back to her pod.

In the rare occasion that Branch would hope for something, he would always have that prominent, pessimistic thought at the forefront of his mind that things would not go as he hoped. And, granted, they usually didn't.

Like today, for example. He was hoping that he would not have to endure that peppy, pink princess that he hated to love. She had already pestered him enough as it was with her persistence. A couple of hours after she’d first visited him when he was leaving his bunker, he’d found another invitation to the party there. It was identical to the first that he’d snatched from her hand, with the same figurine, the same annoying jingle, and the terrible blast of glitter that sprayed out (that time when he’d opened it, he’d ensured that he held it at an armlength away so that it would not go all over his face). The day after had gone on in a near exact replica of what had happened the evening prior to that – she’d approached him when he’d left his bunker (both in the morning and evening), tried to give him an invitation, and plead with him to come to the party, to which he of course disagreed to, and then promptly left to take care of his chores, all while suppressing the tiniest bit of warmth that blossomed inside his chest whenever he was in her presence.

The day after that, Poppy had not shown up at all, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t lurking. He had found yet three more invitations on the outside of his bunker – one placed in the morning, one placed at midday, and one placed right before he’d turned in for the night. Once again, the invite was ignored, and the cards were carefully stashed among his collection deep within the bunker, where nobody would be able to hear their stupid jingles and assume he had any feelings for the princess.

He'd woken up that morning with a hope that perhaps Poppy would give up if she hadn’t by now already. That was six invitations to the same party that he had received, and six that he had rejected. He scowled as he put on his leaf vest. He didn’t know why she was being so persistent on this occasion. Whenever he was invited to events, he’d always receive one invitation. But Poppy was being annoyingly persistent this time around. He could agree that the day that the trolls were freed from the Bergens was a great one indeed, and should be commemorated, but not in the manner that they wanted to. Not with a huge party that was sure to lure them right back and completely ruin not only the entire meaning of the celebration, but the rest of every trolls’ lives in the village when the Bergen ate them all! So no, he was not going to go to this party. His answer would always remain no. If Poppy hadn’t gotten the message by now, he didn’t know what in the world would make her understand.

Branch grit his teeth, trying to focus his work on picking out the sturdiest-looking twigs and doing his best to pay no mind to the obvious indicators that he was being followed. Usually, a rustling of leaves or the padding of feet on the dirt would give him unease, making him alert to the possibility of a Bergen being around. But this time around, he knew he was in no danger. Well, of a Bergen at least. But to a certain princess, yes. He could tell by the light steps and soft, feminine-sounding “ow!”s or “oof!”s every once in a while that it was her, thinking that she was being slick by trying to catch him off guard, but completely unaware that her moves were not as sneaky as she thought they were.

He couldn’t stand it anymore after it had gone on for a good ten minutes or so, and he let out a big sigh. “Poppy, I know you’re there, so just come out already!” he growled.

He heard a soft gasp emit from somewhere behind him and then a sigh of defeat. The next moment, he saw her step out from behind the bush that she was not-so-discretely hiding behind. He would have smirked, if he hadn’t been so annoyed, at the way that she looked. There were leaves stuck to her hair and she had more than a couple of scratches on her dress from the twigs and roots that had likely snagged her in her attempt to hide.

“Heh hehe… hey, Branch!” she chuckled sheepishly at him and awkwardly waved her hand.

Branch just glared at her, a look that said, “get on with it already.”

“Right,” Poppy cleared her throat. “So, um… great weather we’re having today, huh?”

“The same as any other day,” Branch said in a hard voice.

“Oh, no, I think the sun might be even brighter today! It just feels so warm and nice, and the leaves in the trees look greener – “

“Poppy,” he cut in, putting a hand up. “Cut it out. You know why you’re here. I know why you’re here. And you know how this is going to end. So why bother ?”

“Why bother?!” Poppy gasped. “Because this is going to the be the biggest, the loudest, and the craziest party ever!” she blurted.

“Right. Big. Loud. Crazy. And you know what’s gonna happen? You’re just gonna lead the Bergen right to us!”

“Branch, we haven’t seen a Bergen in twenty years. They’re not gonna find us now!”

“No, they’re not gonna find me . Because I will be in my heavily fortified, Bergen-proof survival bunker. So you enjoy your party. And leave me out of it!”

But Poppy was still insistent. “Branch, please don’t say no! It’s not like our other parties, it’s different!”

“Different? Really?” Branch asked. “Let’s see: does it still have singing, dancing, hugging, and tons of glitter?”

“Yeah, of course!” Poppy replied.

“Then it’s not different,” Branch pointed out.

“But it is!” Poppy said. “It’s different because… because…” Unable to find the words to explain, she reached into her hair and thrust out an invitation to him.

At the end of his rope, Branch snatched it out of her hand, prepared to slam it on the ground and stomp it into oblivion, but he paused when he noted the cover of this invitation. It was not like the others he had gotten, which featured him with some goofy, unrealistic expression of happiness on his face and a terrible rendition of some pop song with lyrics that were set to a survival-from-the-Bergens theme. This one had him on the cover, sure, but next to him was a figure of Poppy, obvious by her pink hair and blue dress, and she was… but why...?

A split-second look of confusion on his face appeared and was then replaced with an enraged frown. “Is this some kind of joke?” he hissed, pointing at the two hand-holding figures on the cover of the card.

“No, it’s not, ” Poppy said firmly, then in a commanding voice, she said, “Branch, I want you to come to the party with me as a date.”

That did it for Branch. First her pestering, and now this awful excuse of a prank. So he exploded. “Now you’re being RIDICULOUS! You still expect me to come to a stupid party that you know I’ve been saying no to, another party that’s going to be just as dumb as every other party that you’ve invited me to, and now you’re trying to say that you want me as your date? This isn’t ridiculous, it’s BEYOND ridiculous !!”

“I wouldn’t ask you if I didn’t mean it, Branch!” Poppy shouted at him.

“Yeah, well I mean it when I say that I’m DEFINITELY not going now,” he growled at her.

“Branch, it’s just a date, it’s not like I’m asking you to jump off a cliff or something!” the princess argued.

“You might as well have,” Branch retorted. “In fact, that sounds like a much better option.”

“Branch, I want you to come. And I’m not leaving until you say yes!”

“You can’t force me to come,” he said.

“I can order you, though. I am the princess.”

“And your dad’s the king, so he has the final say.” He narrowed his eyes at her. “What does he have to say about all this, by the way?”

Now Poppy felt like she was talking to Creek again, when he’d begun questioning her about the plan and wanting to know her intentions. But before she could speak, Branch continued.

“And what about your boyfriend? Huh? Why isn’t he going as your date?”

This got Poppy confused. “What? Branch, I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Oh, yeah? Then what the heck do you call Creek?” Branch spat out the name like it was a bad taste in his mouth. And, in truth, it was. He could say that he really despised that troll, probably as much as Creek despised him. He always tried to act like he was all that, making everyone else believe he was some kind of enlightened being, when in truth, he was just full of it. It pained Branch with a suffocating jealousy to see that he of all trolls had to be the one closest to Poppy.

“Creek is a friend, ” Poppy said. “We’ve been nothing more than friends. And besides, he’s not going.”

Branch had been about to call her out for making such a statement, until she’d said that last part. It caught him so off guard he had to ask her again. “Wait… what?”

“Creek is not going. I asked him, and he doesn’t want to come.” He’d of figured it was as bad a fib as any – no troll, especially not one as comfortable with Poppy as he was, would want to miss out on a party – that was, until he saw the look on her face. It was a pained look, like she’d had a hard time just saying it out loud. Which meant, he really had said no. But why? He was itching to ask her to elaborate, but he didn’t want to see the look on her face grow more strained that it already had. He wanted to curse himself for feeling that way. He should be able to ask her whatever he wanted, no matter how much it affected her. He probably knows that she wants me to go as her date, Branch thought. There could be no other reasonable explanation for that specific troll to have rejected the invitation to the party of the year and alongside the troll of the village. Which brought him to another question he had in mind…

“And I’m supposed to believe that your friends didn’t put you up to this, as some kind of bet? ” he asked, suspicion still clear in his tone.

“Branch, I’m the princess! If I’m going to be a good queen, I can’t lie to my people!” Poppy reasoned. Then she raised one hand and made some motions over her chest with the other. “I, Princess Poppy, cross my heart and hope to die.”

Yeah, you’ll die all right, if you really do go through with this party and a BERGEN crashes it, he thought. But he shook it off, as another question once more blurted out of his mouth, this one needing more of an answer than the previous one.

“Why would you want to even go on a date with me?”

Poppy paused for a second, seeming to think of a good answer. Or, at least some kind of answer. Branch, per his usual mindset, didn’t think the answer would be good.

“Branch,” Poppy finally said, taking a deep breath. “I think you’re a very interesting troll. And it’s not in a bad way, not because you’re gray or anything like that, but because I really honestly think that you are. You’re the only troll in the village that I don’t know too well, and I wanna change that. I wanna get to really know you for you. I wanna have an actual conversation that’s not me trying to give you an invitation to a party. And I was just hoping that I could have that this one time at least. That we could have that, actually,” she said, correcting the last part.

Branch stood in a stunned silence. Her words sounded oh so convincing… what was he to do? His default answer was still a firm ‘NO,’ but he couldn’t seem to force the words out of his mouth for the time being.

“Whaddya say, Branch?” Poppy asked softly, a flicker of hope shimmering in her eyes. “Is it a yes?”

Branch looked from the invitation in his hand to Poppy and back down at the invitation, not believing that he was actually, really, for the first time in forever, considering going. It still wasn’t enough for him provide an answer right there and then though.

“I… um… I… let me think about it,” Branch mumbled, hurriedly tucking the invitation into his hair and backing off and away in a rapid trudge through the forest.

He could hear Poppy squeal in delight behind him, and he called back to her. “Thinking about it doesn’t mean yes, Poppy!”

“Right, right, I know, sorry! I – uh – I’m gonna head off, see you later!” she quickly apologized and then darted off.

Branch sighed, and tried to ignore the feel of the hot blush that was in no doubt coating his cheeks. Good grief… what had he gotten himself into?

Branch had himself in a quandary unlike any other.

What he was faced with was a difficult challenge, one that he never even imagined he would ever have to face.

The challenge of a decision.

But not just any decision.

This wasn’t a matter of choosing which weapon to whittle away at, or calculating how many more rations he had with the addition of the items he’d foraged for that day. No, those were fairly simple matters that he had mastered quite efficiently over the years to best maximize his survival. This was a decision to make over one of the things that he had sworn to himself to never commit to, for the great dangers that it brought with it.

The decision of whether to attend a party.

Branch felt his frown furrow deeper. This was completely idiotic. Like he’d told Poppy once and a thousand times, parties were a hazard. They always were, and always would be so long as she continued to go about them the way she had, with the loudness, and the glitter, and the overall… bigness of it. The safe thing to do, as his subconscious so kindly reminded him, was to obviously not bother. He’d missed party after party, and everybody enjoyed themselves just the same. It was not as big of a deal as the Pop Princess was making it seem. He was just one troll… How could he matter so much?

A movement caught the corner of his eye, and his gaze shifted to the source. He was sitting at his desk, and right there on the top, were all seven identical invitations that Poppy had given him. One of them had poofed out a small burst of glitter that seemed to have been leftover. He rolled his eyes, but it wasn’t out of pessimism - it was out of fondness. Of course she had leftover glitter in the card, because why wouldn’t she? This was Poppy he was talking about, who was bursting at the seams with joy and expressed it in her exuberant fashion - whether it was through her chipper personality, or with her creative cards.

It’s just one party, he suddenly thought. What could happen? Well, as a matter of fact, a lot could happen, each scenario he’d envisioned worse than the last.

Well… all except one.

There was one particular scenario that wasn’t too terrible, that didn’t involve those horrendous Bergens ripping him apart with their teeth, or being burned alive in digestive fluids. This scenario was more serene, of him and the princess side by side, holding hands and carrying on as they were depicted to be on the card. Who knew, maybe the silly invite was a foreshadowing of what was to come…

But before a smirk could tug at his lip, he did as he always did and pushed aside his feelings, gripping the sides of his head with both hands and slumping down. “Why are you doing this me?” he groaned aloud, talking to the cards as if Poppy were there, sitting across from him (she would never be, of course, as he had never invited her over… or anybody for that matter). There was no response except for the blank gaze coming from the felt card figurine of the latest one he’d received, at the forefront of all the others. That’s when he remembered her proposition, and what she had said to support her point:

I think you’re a very interesting troll. You’re the only troll in the village that I don’t know too well, and I wanna change that. I wanna get to really know you for you. And I was just hoping that I could have that this one time at least. That we could have that…

Try as he might to prevent it from happening, Branch could in no doubt feel his resolve weakening. He ran his finger over the felted figurine and sighed. Because he wanted that, too. He wanted to get to know her better than the happy-go-lucky girl she always presented herself to be. He didn’t want a one-dimensional perception on the princess. He wanted depth, to see the real woman underneath the exterior, as he wanted her to see the real him that he was. Not the sourpuss, drab, gray loner - but the troll who had hidden compassion, tenderness, and, above all, a deep, ever powerful love that ran for her. One that made him want to push back the lovely pink strands of magenta bangs from her face, cup her delicate, soft cheek, kiss those sweet lips…

… and pull his hair out all in the same.

He groaned exasperatedly, slamming a fist on the table and in turn triggering the cards to start up with their ridiculous jingles, and then did something that he hadn’t done in a long, long time.

He laughed.

He laughed because he knew what his decision was, laughed because he couldn’t believe what it was, and laughed because he now had to face Poppy with that answer.

Poppy was not in the best spirits that she could be.

The morning she had woken up to was beautiful, as were the pretty pink flowers that she was watering. The party was now closer than ever, a couple days away, and it was sure to be the biggest bash of the year. Okay, no, actually it would probably be the biggest bash of the decade , maybe even the century!

But, what good was the celebration to be if it couldn’t be shared with every troll? The Pop Princess sighed. She knew she could only do so much when it came to the only gray troll in the village, but a part of her would feel like a failure if her plan didn’t come to fruition. If he really disagreed this time around, where would that leave her? She supposed she could go to the party alongside her friends. But would Creek still come? She didn’t think so. He had barely spoken to her aside from a respectful ‘hello’ whenever passing by in the village. If she wanted to talk to him, however, he would always give her an excuse.

“Got to run, princess, yoga class begins in just a few.”

“No can do, princess. Got to go tend to my zen garden.”

“Terribly busy this afternoon, Poppy. Perhaps some other time?”

Unlike Branch, however, she would not linger on the bad side of things.

She shook her head, as if shaking off the thoughts too, putting a smile on her face and humming ‘Celebration.’ Pretty soon she was shimmying her hips a little to the beat of the tune, and twirled skillfully with the watering can as she sprayed it onto the flowers. She giggled on one of her twirls, really getting into it, managing to balance herself like a ballerina on her toes. It was mid-pirouette that she heard his voice.

“Poppy…”

“Ah!” The princess shouted in surprise. She stumbled, about to fall on her backside to the ground when she suddenly felt a pair of arms catch her before she did. When she looked up at the face of the troll, she beamed. “Branch!”

He cleared his throat as a response, quickly helping her get back on her feet and stepping away. He averted her gaze, but she took the full opportunity to observe him. He came per his usual self, sporting the leaf green vest and patchwork shorts. He rubbed his arm with one hand, and with the other he was holding an invite.

Her invite.

Poppy’s eyebrows raised, her fuschia orbs meeting his own in a surprised expression. Branch looked at her firmly, ensuring her attention was raptly on him, and then he began to speak.

“Two conditions,” he said, lifting two fingers up. “That I’m there for no later than one hour, and that I’m not required to sing once throughout the ev - “

“AHHHH!! YES!” Poppy cried out before the gray troll even had a chance to finish his sentence. She thrust her watering can down on the ground, forgotten, and jumped up and down for joy, screaming happily. “YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES!! YEEEEESSSS! AHHHH! I KNEW YOU’D SAY YES!” She laughed and clapped her hands like a little girl, her ponytail waving around madly with all the energy she had. “Branch, I promise you that you won’t regret it!”

“Conditions, Poppy!” Branch emphasized, uncertain if she had heard him through all her excitement.

“Yeah, yeah, Branch, don’t worry, that’s all taken care of, okay? The point is YOU SAID YES !” she shrieked again. And before Branch could back away to leave, Poppy shot out, wrapping her arms around his neck pressing against him for an enormous hug. At first, Branch stood with his arms stiffly at his sides. To be on the receiving end of a hug solely from the princess was a rarity. Usually, if he was ever roped into a Hug Time unwillingly, it was always as a group. Never her alone. Instinctually, however, as though his arms had a mind of their own, he reached up and, very lightly, wrapped his arms around her. 

Poppy gasped when she felt him squeeze back in a soft embrace of his own, and leaned back to look at him. Branch hurriedly broke the hug off at that very moment however, and awkwardly began looking around, as if he had lost something.

“Are you looking for this?” she asked, handing him the invite he’d come with. “Sorry about that,” she continued apologetically, “guess it must’ve fallen when I went to hug you.”

“Right,” Branch mumbled, grabbing it and tucking it into the inner pocket of his vest. Things were quiet between them those next few seconds, Poppy smiling from ear to ear, and Branch rubbing his arm. “Well, um… I’ve gotta go.”

Poppy nodded. “Oh! Yes, of course. Um, we’ll meet at seven thirty?”

Branch shrugged indifferently. “Sure.” Then he turned around and made his way out of her garden. 

“Okay, great! Talk to you soon!” Poppy didn’t hear him respond, but she didn’t mind. Not when he gave her the best news she could’ve ever heard! With renewed flourish, she continued watering her flowers giddily and repeating one phrase over and over in her head.

Oh my hair… this really IS going to be the best party EVER!!

Chapter Text

Everywhere you looked, there were trolls all doing one thing and one thing only. And that was preparing.

With the Anniversary party less than only 24 hours away, there was plenty to be done in order to ensure that, as promised, it would be the biggest, loudest, and CRAZIEST party ever!

Everywhere one looked there were busy bees going at it, grabbing streamers, or glitter, balloons, confetti, blowers and noisemakers, and favors galore! If this was truly to be unforgettable, then by golly, those measures were going to be taken.

On that note, it was impossible to tell who was more enthused about the party. Everybody seemed to be running on the same energetic high. Sky Toronto was working double time with his Fun Factory. Maddy was going extra glamorous with her clients’ hairstyles. Klaus was cooking up a storm in the bakery.

King Peppy, while a bit too elderly to actually be engaged in much of the manual labor, still found a place in the preparations by overseeing the matters, and giving everybody positive words of encouragement, such as:

“The decor is looking splendid!” to Sky Toronto.

“The hair’s on point!” to Maddy.

And,

“Mmm! Delicious, keep up the great work!” to Klaus.

But perhaps the most impressive of the bunch, exceeding anybody else in enthusiasm and happiness, however, was of course, Poppy. Princess Poppy, unsurprisingly enough, was the most hyped. Not that she hadn’t been before. She, after all, had been the girl distributing the dozens upon dozens of invitations to the party to everybody in their village. Though, secretly, she knew that there was even more reason for her jovial attitude. Something she had always, ALWAYS wanted was going to happen, and that little bit of knowledge was driving her to conduct herself with even more exuberance.

King Peppy also noticed this, too, and had no trouble at all finding his energetic daughter. Keeping up with the girl was a whole other matter, though. The old King practically panted as he came up behind her and her tagalong friends - Guy Diamond, Biggie, Cooper, Satin, Chenille, Fuzzbert, and DJ Suki - all dutifully at her side and readily assisting her from one project to the next.

“All right, guys, we’re getting there!” she said, cheerily turning to them, “After we get the stage decorated with banners and balloons, we can move on to the - oh, hey Dad!” Poppy stopped in her tracks, after noticing her father, and all her friends came to an abrupt halt behind her, nearly colliding with the princess. Poppy wasn’t bothered, and dashed over to scoop her father into a playful, twirling hug. The hug was so big, she lifted him off his feet for a few seconds!

“Ahaha, there’s my princess,” Peppy laughed, sweetly ruffling her magenta hair. “Everything is looking excellent!”

“EEEE, I know!” she squealed. “I am so, SO happy about it!” In an effort to prove that, she did a little samba-like dance, shaking her hips, kicking her feet into the air and pumping her fists, her hair bouncing around in its ponytail in wild swishes.

“Perhaps even more happy than usual!” Peppy chuckled.

“Right?” Biggie said.

“I literally thought I was the only one who noticed!” Smidge piped up.

“Same - “ Satin began.

“ - Here!” Chenille finished.

“So, what does have you all worked up, girl?” DJ Suki asked curiously.

“Oh, it’s something all right,” Poppy said.

“Is it all the gliIiitererrr?” Guy Diamond sang out, knowing just how much his friend loved it when there was glitter-palooza at parties.

“Um, not exactly,” Poppy said, giggling girlishly and twirling a finger in her hair.

DJ Suki seemed to figure it out right away when she thought she spotted a light, bashful blush on the princess’s cheeks. “Oh my goodness! It’s a boy, right? It’s totally a boy, isn’t it?”

When Poppy nodded, all the girls squealed the way that she had just moments ago.

“They’re finally together, I knew it, I KNEW IT!” Smidge hollered in her gruff little voice.

“And we have got to do a - “ Satin began to say, and her sister helped her finish by proudly declaring together, “FASHION MAKEOVER!”

And as Guy Diamond “OOooOOOO”ed, and Mr. Dinkles and Biggie mewed in surprise, DJ Suki eagerly nudged Poppy. “Okay, girl, you have GOT to spill!” she urged. “What’s going on with you and Creek?”

Poppy was snapped out of her daze at the mention of the troll, his name sparking confusion. “Creek?” Oh, that’s RIGHT. Her friends had no clue. She hadn’t said a word to them all week. And, from the looks of it, Creek hadn’t said a word to them about her plan all week, either. She was silently grateful for it, but knew that Creek hadn’t remained silent for her benefit. In fact, it probably would’ve been better for him to have told them beforehand, that way she wouldn’t have to be put in the place of telling them this jaw-dropping, hair-raising, bamboozling news just a day before the main event! But, things had happened as they happened, and it was as it was. It was sooner or later that they would find out, and it appeared that that ‘later’ was now.

“It’s um… not Creek, a-actually,” she stammered, the first part of her revelation already having its effects on her friends.

“Whaaaaa?” Biggie drawled, cocking his head further than how it already was cocked. Satin and Chenille paused their chattering to each other about what kind of makeup to do Poppy up with to glance at her and say “Huh?”, where Guy Diamond abruptly halted his techno-viby Oooing.

Poppy usually liked a good build-up, but with this build-up was, she would’ve just rather spilled the beans as quickly as she could and get it over with. Which is what she did. “It’s… Branch.”

Her friends didn’t seem to have heard her first, judging by the blank stares.

“Who?” Smidge asked.

“Branch,” Poppy said a little more loudly.

The friends were silent another moment, glancing at her, then at each other, then back at her again. Finally, Biggie said, “Um, there is only ONE Branch in town… right?”

Poppy felt herself get the teensiest bit exasperated. “Come on, guys, Branch! You know, the guy with the bunker? Lives just on the edge of town? ‘AHH! The Bergens are coming!’ Branch?”

They seemed to get it now. And unanimously came the exclamation of surprise. “BRANCH??”

“Yes, Branch!” she said, feeling her enthusiasm return at how it all unfolded. She retold her tale of the past few days. About the plan she came up to include Branch, about her attempts to invite him, and how she failed, until she didn’t fail, and had managed to actually, really and truly convince the troll to come!

“I mean, I couldn’t believe it myself, but it happened. He didn’t say no! He had his conditions, but heck, he said YES!” she panted, waving her hands wildly about. “He’s literally never said yes before. It’s been soooo long coming. Oh, he’s going to have SO much fun with us!” She gauged her friends’ reaction, and for that matter, her father’s. King Peppy looked contemplative, unreadable… almost suspicious.

“Wait, so, then… what is going on with you and Creek?” DJ asked, her question from before sounding more serious, like she was concerned for her friend.

Poppy held back a grimace. She had purposefully excluded her discord with Creek, but it seemed that she would have to provide some sort of answer.

“Umm…” She trailed, trying to delay the response even by just a few seconds. “... not much…”

This of course startled her friends. “But… but he’s still coming to the party, right?” Cooper asked. Understandably, he and the others wanted his presence, being that he was one of their groups’ closet friends. 

“Oh, I’m sure he is! I mean, why not, right? Parties are fun!” Poppy said encouragingly, trying to get herself to believe it.

Her friends didn’t wear uneasy expressions persay, though they were still perplexed. But then…

“Branch, and Creek, and all of us together…” DJ considered.

“That…” Cooper said.

“Is…” Biggie said.

“So…” Guy Diamond said.

“SO…” Smidge said.

Then, ALL at the same time, they burst out, “AWESOME!!”

Immediately they accepted the notion with much fanfare, as if the celebration that was to take place that evening, was already taking place right then and there!

Peppy wanted to celebrate as well - Branch had been a troll he had strongly hoped would become included in the village’s activities, his hope as strong as his daughter’s. Though, he couldn’t help remembering the occurrence from just six days prior…

“Well, what are we waiting for, Poppy??” DJ Suki squeaked. “Now we really gotta make preparations!”

“All in good time, dear,” Peppy said, putting a hand up before DJ or Smidge could grab onto Poppy’s arms and whisk her away. “I wanted to have just a quick word with my daughter, if you will…”

“Oh, yes, of course, King Peppy, your majesty!” she said, and she and the friends backed off. 

“We’ll get going on the stage then, Poppy,” Smidge declared, helpfully waving around streamers that she’d pulled out of her light blue hair.

“Great, meet you there!” Poppy replied with a grin and a wave. The grin disappeared, replaced with an apprehensive expression that indicated that she knew of the speech that was coming from her father once they were out of earshot and safely stowed away behind shrubbery, away from prying eyes.

Sure enough, Peppy faced her once they’d reached that spot, King Mode switching into Dad Mode. “Poppy…”

“Dad, I know what you’re going to say,” she cut him off, a word vomit of explanation following, “and this isn’t a setup. It’s not going to be anything that’s bad for Branch. I promise. In fact, it’s totally the opposite. I wanna make sure that we all have the best time ever! I had to have Branch come. He’s been alone for way too long, and it’s not fair. I know he says he likes it, and he might even act like he likes it, but I mean… deep down, who actually does? We’ve both been wanting things to change, Dad, but now… they actually are.”

Her father was silent. Then he asked, “And this was a decision by Branch?”

She nodded eagerly. “Oh, yes, it was! I totally didn’t force him, and I wasn’t even pushy about it!”

Dad raised an eyebrow, and she became sheepish. “Well, maybe a little pushy,” she admitted, rubbing an arm.

King Peppy laughed, knowing it would be very much unlike her to not follow such a tactic. “Your friends seem to like the idea,” he commented.

Poppy looked down. “Well, most of them do…”

Peppy sighed. “It’s Creek, isn’t it?”

She nodded sadly, and coming to remember all of his rejection in the past week brought tears to her eyes. Peppy stepped in, putting an arm around Poppy’s shoulders and stroking her hair. 

“Dad, I wish he agreed with my idea. He’s the only one I even told it to, back when I had thought of it. And now he’s been, like… avoiding me…” A tear that was unable to hold itself back fell.

“Sweetheart,” Peppy said gently, “Perhaps he’s just worried about what might happen at the party. He just wants to make sure everyone has the fun that they want to have.”

Poppy shrugged, sniffling a little. “I guess,” she mumbled.

“If Creek is really your friend, he will come around. Trust me.” He leaned back to look her in the eyes.

“Okay, Dad. I trust you,” Poppy replied, smiling and hugging her father.

“Now, run along with your friends,” Peppy said. “I’ll see if perhaps I could find Branch out and about. I’d like to have a word with him as well.”

Poppy didn’t think it was super necessary, but she could understand why her father wanted to take these measures. However… “I guess you could try, but I don’t think Branch will be around. He’s probably in his bunker…”

“Ah, yes, you’re probably right. Well, I’ll try anyhow,” Peppy decided, seeing his daughter’s reasoning.

Both, however, were wrong in that assumption.

Branch, in actuality, was in town.  An unusual occurrence, perhaps, as his usual routine only brought him to the stores on the town’s outskirts once every few months to restock on items that he was unable to find in the woods (which, wasn’t very many to begin with). But, given that Branch was already in a rather unusual situation - having actually accepted the princess’s invitation - he didn’t see it too strangely.

As for the others in town, however…

The clerk perked his head up as soon as the jingle to his store’s bell sounded, indicative of the door being opened. He opened his mouth, about ready to exclaim his usual greeting of “Welcome! How may I assist you today?” but instead came out with “Oh! Branch! Hello! I didn’t know you came here!”

“I don’t.”

“Oh, well, then, um… is there anything I can help you with?”

“No thank you.” Branch made off to the aisles after that.

“Oh, alright then! Let me know if you do need anything!”

“Mmm.”

Branch was usually far more grumpier in tone, though he couldn’t help but notice that his tone, for whatever reason, didn’t seem to be coming off with its usual sharp edge. Not with the store clerk, nor the other trolls whom he’d passed by that morning and he’d actually said hi to. Well, it wasn’t exactly the friendliest hello. It was more like “Hi, or whatever,” and “Oh, yeah, mm-hmm, hi,” but at least it had not been the silent treatment he usually exhibited.

Branch might’ve taken the moment to ponder about it more in that instance, however, he had a set goal in mind when entering that store. And that goal lay about two aisles down from the store’s entrance, where stacks and stacks of cologne bottles stood in a perfectly arranged display.

From a distance, they all looked quite the same. But up close, he could see the varied colored labels, and the even more varied names for their scents.

Melodic Mist.

Elixr Essence.

Tantalizing Temptation.

Branch scrunched his nose at all of them, knowing the work would be doubled in having to take a look at the back of the labels and even sample some to actually know what kind of scent it had. How in the world was he supposed to know what Melodic Mist smelled like? Why couldn’t it just say ‘This one smells like oranges’ or ‘This one smells like the ocean,’ or something or other like that?

Begrudgingly, Branch grabbed one the first one off the shelf, popped open the cap and spritz twice onto his forearm. He scrunched his nose at the strength of the aroma it gave off. Oof. TOO much. He put it back on the shelf.

Colognes overall he felt were too much. And unnecessary. He could recall, years ago, back when he was but a mere baby in diapers, how his second eldest brother had never failed to spritz himself with the substance all the time. Watching him at the vanity, patting down his neck and arms and chest with the stuff made him look silly. And smell funny for that matter, and not like the usual barbecue scents that clung onto his clothes after grill-night dinners that he’d treat the family to, scents that Branch was familiar with. But, now that he actually thought about it, maybe it wasn’t so silly. His brother, he could also remember, always had a girlfriend. So maybe, just maybe, his measures actually were reasonable ones.

And if I’m going to go out with the Princess…

Branch grabbed another bottle from the shelf and spritzed it on his arm. Before he could actually bring it up to his nose and catch a whiff, a sudden accented voice broke in.

“So, it IS true, I suppose.”

Branch jolted, nearly dropping the bottle on the floor, though it was saved by the hair of the newcomer who’d entered his space. The green curled hair. The gray troll held back the biggest groan he wished to exhale as he was face to face with by far the most annoying guy in the whole village.

Creek.

They stared at each other, face to face in silence for a few fleeting seconds, not having actually spoken one on one with the exclusion of everybody else in the princess’s friend group on standby. And if the tension hadn’t been crackling then, then it sure as hair was crackling at least twice as much now.

“What are you talking about?” Branch grumbled, his usual tone of voice this time returning to him quite easily.

“About you and Poppy. And going to the party,” Creek replied, like it was common knowledge. “I mean, that’s why you’re here, buying this, am I correct?” He held up the bottle of cologne that he’d saved from falling.

“It’s not for that,” Branch denied. “It’s for… marking territory.” It was true that strong scents were in fact used to create borders in his territory around the bunker, so that other animals and creatures may not wander onto it and make themselves at home. However, the mauve-skinned troll had been correct in his first assumption. Not that he’d ever let him know.

Creek chuckled - a worth-punching-him-in-the-face chuckle - and placed the cologne back on the shelf. “Branch, Branch, there’s no shame at all in being the princess’s project. Heck, it’s pleasant to see that you’ve even leveled out from what happened last week. You know, the screaming in the middle of the street? It simply broke my heart to see your episode play out as it did…” He placed the back of his hand dramatically on his forehead.

Yeah RIGHT. Branch wouldn’t believe that for a minute. But something else in the troll’s words had caught his attention though… “Project?” he questioned. What does he mean by that?

“Oh, indeed,” Creek said, like he knew all about it. “Why, being a princess, Poppy understandably has lots of projects to work on. It proves herself to be a queen. Though, I must admit, some are not as tied into the royal aspect of it."

Branch’s brows furrowed as the troll continued to speak, the words making the apprehension in him grow.

“Your project, however,” the guru troll said, picking up where he left off, “is so much more than her usual. I mean, how proud do you think that her father will be when she manages to succeed in the thing that he himself couldn’t do? Finally getting that bloody nonsense of Bergens and all that other paranoia out of your head and turning you into one of our own.”

Branch felt his anger start to flare. “It’s not paranoia. It’s the truth.”

“The point is,” Creek continued, blatantly ignoring him, “you’re helping the princess. Why, she may even become Queen by the time the party comes to its conclusion tomorrow! And that’s why I’m so glad I ran into you, to warn you…” He placed a hand on Branch’s shoulder. Ooo, Branch was itching to slap that hand away, though he resorted to giving it a simple shove. No need for another scene. Creek, thankfully, got the message, and kept his distance. “... After this, don’t expect things to… progress from there. Once she’s got the crown, what else does she need? Certainly not me, it seems.” He frowned for a second, looking down at the floor bitterly, and then looked up at him with a sort of fire in his eyes. “And certainly not YOU.”

With that, Creek put an end to the conversation, walking out of the aisle and in the direction of the storefront. “Well, lovely speaking to you Branch!” he said with a grin. “And Namaste.”

And then he was gone.

But, despite the absence of his physical presence, his words were not gone. His words about Branch being a project, his words about Poppy not caring about him after this. About things going back to normal…

Only then did Branch realize how warped his sense of reality was, how he, somewhere in the back of his mind, had fathomed that something more could occur. He looked at the cologne bottles, lining the shelf, the one that he had put back earlier tilted and imperfect than the rest.

Imperfect like me.

Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be true. This party would be pointless if such a thing was the case, if it was all a ruse to get her to obtain her cherished crown and title sooner. And, if he backed out of his attendance, then it likely wouldn’t come off as a surprise to Poppy. It might disappoint her, but it won’t be surprising, with all his past rejections and the way he adamantly refused all party invitations.

But… I DON’T want to see her disappointed…

Branch sighed. He had already said yes. Refusal was a tempting offer, but not if it meant letting her down when she was actually counting on him.

It’s one night, he reminded himself. One night, and that’s all. And, whether this was to be their only night together, where he could relish in the company she provided, or whether they were destined to turn into something more, he would make it a night to remember.

I hate Branch.

There couldn’t be a phrase that rang out truer in his head. Creek left the store gladly behind him. Anywhere Branch was, he didn’t want to be.

I hate Branch.

He got lighter in his steps when he approached Sky Toronto’s Fun Factory, where plenty of other Trolls were going to get their supplies.

“Oh, hello there, Creek! What can we help you with?” the factory workers greeted him with.

“Ah, yes, I’m looking for something in particular, mate. Would you be able to assist me?”

“Oh, sure! Got plenty here to choose from, especially with that party coming up. Looking forward to it are ya, Creek? I know I am!”

Creek smiled and, if they hadn’t known any better, they would’ve deemed it malicious.

“You have no idea.”

I HATE Branch.

He first tried on the new vest only an hour before the event.

Branch scrunched his nose as he turned this way and that, attempting to scrutinize himself and his appearance in that of the full-length body mirror that he had in his bunker. He supposed it was a nice fashionable piece. Crafty as he was, he’d stitched it together himself. It had been surprisingly easy for a task that had at first seemed to be a bit difficult to do, given his lack of experience sewing clothing for fashionable purposes.

The vest was an iridescent collage of shimmering, beautiful fish scales that he’d plucked out from his catch by the river. They shone in all sorts of colors as he turned this way and that, never once looking quite the same with every little shift in position he made. Seeing himself in it made him feel a bit strange. He had never worn anything of this nature. His outfits were always practical – like his leafy vest and dark brown shorts – intended as camouflage from the Bergens and any other dangers that lurked in the forest. But strangely enough, he liked it. His gray and black fit surprisingly well with the shining concoction. He felt his cheeks grow hot in wondering if someone else would like it as well.

He took a deep, shuddering breath and glanced at the clock on the wall.

It read 7:10pm.

She’ll be here in twenty minutes.

Or maybe not.

Maybe it was all just some kind of elaborate joke. To leave him crushed, to laugh at the punchline of him sitting there half the night in his elegant fish scale vest that would never see the light of day, wondering where she was.

But Poppy wasn’t like that.

Sure, she’d play jokes and pranks on other trolls, but none of it was intended to be cruel in their nature.

She’s probably just running late. She IS a princess. She’s got other duties to tend to first before… well, before ME.

Restlessly, he began tinkering with items in his bunker. Everything was already as ridiculously organized as it could be. But still, he went about messing with them, trying to occupy his mind. Containers of dried goods were shifted about. Bottles of collected sweat were moved a shelf down, then back up again. Weapons and traps of all kinds were set and reset around the entrances/exits of his bunker should any Bergen hands wander their way inside. He picked up a wooden stake and grabbed a blade from his kitchen, beginning to whittle away at the end of it to shape it into a sharp point.

I’m being too optimistic. I’m not supposed to be optimistic. I’m Branch. Branch, the guy whose parents disappeared. The guy whose brothers abandoned him. The guy whose Grandma got eaten, who’s colors are gone, and who can NEVER experience happiness again. The guy who has a hopeless, unrequited crush on the princess that will never be returned. The guy who hates parties, and people, and anything fun. The guy who’s crazily prepared, who lives in a bunker, who’s ready for when that Bergen comes, who’ll be safely hidden away deep underground while it scoops everyone up, the monster dreaming up recipes like Sauteed Troll, Troll a la King, Trollganoff, cooking them alive, hearing their screams and not caring, just like it didn’t care when it took his poor Grandmother and turned him into the troll he was now, and  -

Thump. Thump. Thump.

A sudden rapping at the door of his bunker snapped Branch out of his dark thoughts in an instant. He yelped in surprise, a hand flying to his heart and the wooden stake in his hands clattering to the floor.

Was that…?

“Branch? You in there?”

Yes. Yes it was.

Collecting himself, Branch smoothed down his fish-scale vest, dusted himself off, and headed to the platform, pulling the lever so he could rise up and out of the bunker. When he got to the top and stepped out, he was met with a sight that took his breath away. He couldn’t understand why he was so awestruck. Poppy was always so beautiful, no matter what she wore or what she did. And yet, she looked so incredibly ravishing at that moment that he did all he could to not let a stray dribble of drool slip out of his mouth.

What a gentleman that’d make me.

The princess stood shyly, her typical blue dress swapped out for a cute pink one with a fluffy cotton-candy like train for the skirt. It flared out around her hips, the colors going great with the pretty extensions that she’d tied into her hair of blue, purple, and green. Glitter shadow was around her eyes, giving them an even extra hint of sparkle, and her crown was adorned with vibrant felt pieces and jewelry.

Branch was speechless as he took her all in.

And the princess herself also found herself speechless as she looked at Branch.

Or, at least who she thought was Branch.

It was nearly impossible for her to believe that this troll before her was the brooding gray recluse of the village. He looked so… so stunning in that fish-scale vest. She felt her heart grow warm at the mild look of uncertainty in his eyes. Those deep, blue eyes…

Poppy flushed, all too aware of just how truly handsome Branch was. He had a strong jaw, a sturdy build, and dark hair that swept over his head in a neat quiff. Topping it off with that charming, boyish shyness that seemed to have taken him over was practically the icing on the cake.

And then, he cleared his throat – perhaps feeling a little awkward at the silence that had bloomed between them – and spoke.

“I, uh… I hope I’m not overdressed?”

His statement came out more as a question, searching her magenta eyes for an answer as to whether he really had overdone it.

Poppy blinked, not having really processed what he said at first. “Wh-what? O-oh! No! Not at all! You… I think you look… really great.” She smiled sweetly at him. Branch nearly melted on the spot.

“So do you, Princess Poppy,” he managed quietly in response. Politely, nervously, he held his arm out to her. “Sh-shall we?” he stammered, hoping he wasn’t being too forward.

He wasn’t. Poppy gladly linked her arm in his. “Yup! We shall.”

And the two were off.

Chapter Text

Branch tried to ignore the fact that he could hear the party well before they’d even arrived to it. The loud music that blared echoed against the forest trees, alongside the sounds of whooping and laughter, the flash of brilliant lights from the fireworks that burst overhead. Branch tensed -

The Bergens are coming.

- but just as quickly relaxed when Poppy’s hand ever so gently touched his in an unexpectedly sweet caress.

“Are you nervous?”

Branch kept his eyes fixed to the ahead, the party lights coming into full view. “No,” he answered. But it was a very unconvincing ‘no,’ as Poppy could tell. His voice was not as firm as it usually was, and his eyebrows had creased slightly in worry.

But nevertheless, Poppy smiled warmly and patted his hand. “You’ll be fine, I promise.”

Branch still looked unconvinced, so Poppy cheerily continued. “Why don’t you pretend like you’re somebody else? You know, like you’re meeting people for the first time?” She gasped and snapped her fingers. “Maybe you should do an accent!”

But Poppy backtracked on that when she saw the deadpanned look that Branch gave her. “Okay, no, actually, no, don’t do an accent, bad idea. But… you know what I mean!”

And he did understand what she meant, even if her way of going about it wasn't quite so tactful. He understood that she was just looking out for his best interest, and that in itself made the blue troll reel with gratitude, comprehending what was going on and seeing it for what it was.

I’m going on a date with Princess Poppy.

He ached that this wasn’t a dream. That he wouldn’t blow this. Perhaps even if the rest of the night wasn’t eventful in mingling with the others, he could at least have her company. And that sole company was perfectly fine with him.

Branch met her gentle gaze - that caring gaze - and gave a slight nod. “Right. Let’s go.”

So they did.

And the sight that met them was an astounding one indeed.

The large clearing at the town center had been transformed into a full-swing jubilation. Streamers and balloons of all shapes and sizes decorated the area, with plentiful confetti fluttering all about. DJ Suki was naturally at her wooferbug, record scratching and keeping the volume up and pumping. And everywhere, everywhere, there were trolls.

Sure, he'd seen the village trolls out and about before, but it was different seeing them all condensed into one space. Shouting, exclaiming, so recklessly having fun...

The Bergens are coming.

“Poppy? Hey, look, it’s Poppy!”

The visions flashing through his mind of Bergen claws swiping in to disturb the happy scene had little time to formulate in his head, as Branch heard an excited, gruff voice enter their perimeter.

Poppy seemed to recognize this voice instantly, the way she perked up, whirled around, and absolutely lit up at the little troll who was running up to her.

“Smidge!” she cried, throwing her arms around the smaller troll for a big hug. “Awwww, you look so cute!”

It took a moment for Branch to recall which one of Poppy’s friends was Smidge, mostly because a) he hadn’t much actual interaction with much of the residents in the village and b) the troll was incredibly dolled up. A flowing pink dress adorned her body, with an over-the-top glittered skirt that sparkled and shone, and spaghetti-strap strings holding up the top. Her usual little pink bow had been removed so that her light blue hair could be swept to the side, cascading in very elegant wavy locks. Glittery pink earrings that matched her dress were clipped on her ears, and, like Poppy, she was also wearing a light hint of makeup upon and around her eyes.

"You look amazing, too, Poppy!" Smidge gushed, and then darted her eyes over to Branch. "Hi, Branch!" she greeted cheerfully, then to both of them said, "You guys remember Milton Moss, right?" She released Poppy so that she, with both hands extended, could show off her spruced up companion. The town veterinarian had arrived to the party adorned with a striking blue tux that complimented his lavender skin and orange quite well, along with a red bowtie and a puffy white flower acting as a boutonniere.

"Oh yes, I remember!" Poppy said, waving, while Branch gave an acknowledging nod.

Smidge batted her eyes at him. "He's my boyf - I-I mean..." The little troll stammered, accidentally about to give him a title that he perhaps had not taken just yet.

Though, Milton was not at all bothered at the slip up, and in fact, reiterated it proudly. "I'm Smidge's boyfriend," he said, and then, as if to prove it, he dipped down, a hand on the small of her back, the other placed on her cheek, and kissed her sweetly.

Each of them of course had a reaction to this. Milton had a fond expression on his face as Smidge, his girlfriend, gasped in surprise once they’d parted. Poppy gushed another big “AWWW!” at the sight. And Branch felt a strange little pang of envy flow through him, just briefly, for how easy the two of them made it look. A couple in love was nothing to snuff at, though somewhere in the back of his mind he longed for that same playout between him and his own date.

It wasn’t long before Smidge’s surprise morphed into an enormous grin, paired with an even more enormous exclamation. “OH… MY… GAHHH!!!” she squealed, crushing Poppy in a hug that the Princess equally crushed back, the girls ecstatic and bouncing up and down on the spot.

Milton fondly rolled his eyes at the two, chuckling, and then looked over at Branch. “Don’t worry,” he said, “if they hug each other to death, I’ll still dance with you.”

“I’m sure they’ll make it past the hugging,” Branch ventured. “It’s the dancing I’m not so sure about.” With Poppy’s energy rubbing off on her friends, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine her and Smidge dancing themselves to death. Not hard at all, he thought grimly, and not really wanting to picture them dropping to the ground. But that grim overhang dissipated when Milton grinned in amusement at the joke. It was a sense of relief. A sense of ease.

“That vest looks spectacular, if I do say so myself,” the veterinarian said that next moment, eyeing Branch’s fish-scaled attire. “Where did you get it? I haven’t seen anything quite like that in any of the shops around here. Did you special order?”

“No, actually,” Branch replied. “I made it.”

“Made it?” Milton’s eyes lit up in a pleasant surprise. “Seriously?”

Branch felt a twinge of pride blossom inside him. “Yes, I did. I, um… I do a lot of building and crafting. This was actually from a fish I caught in the river last week. A quick wash and some sowing turned it into, well, into this.” He grabbed the vest by the hems and turned slightly a few different ways, allowing the light to catch and reflect off of the iridescent scales.

Milton was clearly impressed. “Well, I think it’s fantastic. You’ve got a real talent there, Branch.” He gave the gray troll a thumbs up, and Branch allowed himself a small hint of a smile in response.

By the time that this had occurred, Poppy and Smidge had finally broken away from each other and the girls had turned their attention back to the guys.

“Come on!” the pink princess said excitedly. “The party’s about to really get started soon. Don’t wanna miss the fun now, do we?”

Smidge shook her little head. “No way!” she said in her gruff voice. She tugged on Milton’s arm, the purple veterinarian stumbling along as she yanked him. Poppy too mirrored her friend, grabbing onto Branch’s arm and pulling him, though not as roughly as Smidge. Branch was not annoyed by the gesture. He was, in fact, if he cared to admit it to himself, rather content thus far. Not ‘happy’ – no, happy was too strong of a word right now – but content.

Nobody was at the stage yet.

For Creek, that was a good thing.

It gave him the chance to stow away unseen, up in the tree that was just above the platformous mushroom, meticulously setting up.

He had not been a decorator, and had not been in attendance of the party, but it didn’t mean that he wasn’t going to leave an impression on it. He sat, patiently waiting, going over his plan, looking down at the stage below.

There really was a good chance that that troll would be up on the stage with her. Poppy often brought over close friends with her if she wanted to on previous occasions. He himself had often found himself up by her side.

Where I should’ve been tonight, he thought bitterly. But a part of him thought that it was better this way. Because in this way, he’d finally, finally get back at that gray grump of a troll and show him what’s what. Show everyone that he wasn’t like the rest of them.

Creek grinned, gritting his teeth in slight frustration. Why couldn’t time go faster? 

Unaware of the strange doings the zen troll was up to, Branch stood off to the side, amusement somewhat creeping into him as he watched Poppy and Smidge enter the choreography of yet the fourth song that had played that night since their arrival, this time joined in by the rest of the Snack Pack, who’d offered their greetings to him before joining in on the dance frenzy. The princess seemed to have an endless supply of energy that went completely unmatched, even by her friends, whom he noticed had to take a couple seconds’ breather multiple times in order to re-order themselves. As he watched, though, his musings became interrupted.

“Well!” a jolly voice said suddenly. “Fancy seeing you here, Branch!”

The gray troll turned around, seeing King Peppy. The two trolls just stood there for a moment glancing at each other, and Branch remembered the last time that he had seen the king.

I was screaming, panicking… he was trying to help me… I pushed him away… The King… Poppy’s father…

Branch swallowed thickly, and found his voice. “Good evening, King Peppy. You look very well tonight.”

He wasn’t lying. The king had cleaned up with an elegant green robe-like cape that flowed behind him, so long it dragged some on the ground. He had been able to tame his wild gray-streaked pink locks of hair so that a leafy green crown sat upon his head. Even his cane had been decorated with touches of glitter to add on to the look.

“Why, thank you,” he said, reaching over with some hesitance and patting Branch on the arm. “And you are not looking so bad yourself!”

He winked, and Branch averted his gaze, looking down at the ground. “Thanks… that’s nice of you to say. I know that I’m not… I mean, not really… but thank you, anyway...”

King Peppy rolled his eyes and playfully nudged at him. “Come on, Branch. Take a compliment! I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t really mean it.” He sighed and looked around at the party, smiling approvingly. “So… how is everything for you so far?” the king asked after a moment.

Branch shrugged. “It’s good.”

“Just good?”

“I mean, I guess it is pretty great,” Branch said, in a manner that he hoped did not disregard the King’s accomplishments from so long ago in saving their people from the Bergens… but also in a way that appeared uncertain. He couldn’t help for it to feel so… foreign to him, being here with everyone. He felt like this was some kind of fever dream that he was having as he sat in his bunker’s bedroom, miserably moping around in another begrudging evening of solitude.

The expression on his face must have been noticeable, and less than stellar, as evident from King Peppy’s following words. “I’m proud of you Branch.”

Branch raised an eyebrow. “You are, sir?”

“Oh, yes,” he nodded. “I know it must not be easy being here… especially with everything that’s happened…” He had a moment of silence, Branch looking down again. Peppy had been the only troll who was fully aware of the gray troll’s entire backstory, and all the tragic details that went with it. And while Branch would rather the mentionings of his past not be brought up, he knew Peppy had meant no harm in bringing them up now. As a matter of fact, it was the opposite. He just wanted to ease the discomfort of the situation. "... But that's the good thing about the past," the king continued on. "You can take the memories that you cherish with you, and then forget about the rest."

“But that’s just it,” Branch said solemnly. “I can’t forget it…” He couldn’t just forget. They were memories that had shaped him into the troll he was. Then, he added, “but I can move on from it.” It was a daring thing to say. Did he even believe it himself? Could he move on from it? Judging by the small smile that had grown on King Peppy’s face, it appeared that at least he thought so. Another silence came between the two of them as the king looked out to the dance floor, and Branch followed his gaze.

“I remember that day, you know,” King Peppy said softly. “I remember it like it was yesterday. Everyone was trying to run through the tunnels as the Bergens were digging their shovels in. I was so terrified.”

Branch looked at him. “You were?”

“Oh, yes,” King Peppy chuckled. “I was shaking like a leaf the whole time! But, I managed to get everyone out. Or, at least, everyone I could...” Branch looked at him questioningly, and he explained. “Sometimes, I wished I could have brought a few other Trolls with me. Her mother, for one,” he said, gesturing out to his daughter on the dance floor. Her and Smidge were currently dancing off to “Gangnam Style” with each other, both girls bursting with wild energy.

“I don’t think I’ve ever quite met anyone like her,” the king whispered, in reference to the Queen. King Peppy sighed, a look of sadness flashing across his eyes, like there was something additional he wanted to say, like there was maybe even someone else that he was missing. But whatever it was he didn’t say. He merely looked over at Branch. “Is it like that for you?”

Branch paused, a flush rising up in his cheeks. “Wh-what?”

“Is it like that for you?” King Peppy repeated kindly, a look of knowing glinting in his fuchsia eyes that told the gray Troll that he seemed to already know the answer. Branch tried to fumble for a response anyhow.

“I… well, you see it’s… what I mean is… uhh… III… don’t know…”

Branch was relieved when King Peppy didn’t push the matter. He smiled and patted the gray Troll on the arm again. “Well, I’ll see you around, Branch. And enjoy the party. I have a feeling that you won’t be forgetting it.” His eyes flickered over to his daughter again, and then the king winked before he went off, already finding some other Trolls to converse with.

“Was that my Dad just now?”

Poppy’s breathless voice came up behind him all at once, having just stepped off the dance floor. Strands of hair loosely hung out of place, framing her face. He itched to tuck it behind her ear, feel the soft locks and the equally soft cheek of hers.

Branch shook off the thought, nodding in response. “Yes.”

“Oh! What were you guys talking about?”

Branch, looking out after the king, simply said, “I think he just wanted to say hi.”

I did it, Poppy thought happily, gazing at Branch and smiling kindly. She had done it. That was enough. She was satisfied.

Maybe we’ll fall in love.

Poppy jolted in surprise, as though someone had unexpectedly tapped her shoulder. She really didn’t know where the wild thought came from, but somehow, she wasn’t all that dissatisfied with it. Sure it was a bit outlandish, thinking that the grumpy gray troll who hardly could tolerate anybody, let alone her, for more than even a minute would all of a sudden fall under the romantic spell.

That couldn’t happen…. could it?

She could picture it all now, in the manner that a perfect fairytale ending would go. Branch would get his true colors back. There’d be plenty of singing. Dancing. Hugging. Maybe even… kissing?

She blushed. Why did the idea of kissing Branch sound just a tad more satisfying than, say, Creek? The recent memory of how Milton Moss had swept her friend Smidge into a sweet kiss flashed through her mind, and she suddenly pictured what that very scenario would have been like if her date that night were to pull the same move.

She blushed. It’d be her first kiss. And… probably his, too, if she had to take a guess.

Oh, but… Branch doesn’t ACTUALLY like me…

He probably thought she was the most annoying troll in the universe, what with all the ways that she had strived and pestered him to be happy.

But, he’s here NOW, isn’t he? And he likes it… or, I THINK he likes it… and he’s not complaining… or screaming that the Bergens are coming… and the music doesn’t bother him… not even the glitter!

She paused then, a thought coming to her in a backtrack. Wait… the music! Right then did she realize that DJ had shifted gears, apparently, and - to cater to the couples that were present at the party - had tuned in to a slower, more passionate rhythm of a song.

Her eyes lit up, and Branch knew right away what she wanted when she saw the said couples take the floor.

“Branch!”

He strictly shook his head. “No.” Absolutely not.

“Come on, Branch, we totally should!” she countered. “There’s plenty of room for everyone. And don’t worry, it’s SUPER easy to do this dance. I’ll show you!”

“Really, no thank you,” he countered.

“It’s fuuun.”

He snorted. Like that was a seller. “In case you forgot, I don’t do fun.”

“Well, you also don’t do parties, yet, here we are.”

Oooh, Branch could think of a few nasty comebacks to that, but they dissolved into the air when he noticed the playful smirk she wore, mischievous and knowing. That’s when he remembered his reason for coming. Not so much for the mingling and music and - UGH - glitter. But… for her. Because who WOULDN’T want to be with princess Poppy?

Someone grumpy, and gray, and rude like ME…

But that wasn’t the case.

Branch let out a breath of a sigh, and glanced at the princess, a ghost of a smile hinting at his lips. “Fine. But I can’t guarantee the best results.”

Poppy squealed and grabbed for his arm. “Oh, you have nothing to worry about. I promise!”

Two seconds later, as Branch wondered just how valid the said promise would be - especially given that he had not willed his feet to perform anything remotely close to a dance in a couple of decades - he and she stood in the middle of the dance floor. Poppy then began to gently instruct, with accompanying motions.

“Here, one hand will go here,” she said, placing it on her back, just below the left shoulder blade, “the other one’s gonna go in mine,” she further explained, intertwining his gray fingers with her pink ones and raising their conjoined hands slightly upwards next to them.

“And now, all we basically have to do is sway! Just like everybody else is doing,” Poppy finished, rocking them softly. “See? Easy peasy! You got this!”

Branch took a quick glance around him. He supposed it was, as she put it, ‘easy peasy.’ 

All the other trolls were lost in their own partners, swaying gently from side to side. And Branch, too, found himself practically entranced by the girl before him. He couldn’t look anywhere else. Her face was so sweet, a beautiful combination of innocence and, to his surprise, maturity. Her pretty fuchsia eyes sparkled like diamonds, her soft pink lips upturned into a small smile, causing adorable little dimples to form in her freckled cheeks. He felt so lost just looking at her, entranced, not realizing that he was unconsciously leaning forward until she too began to inch her face closer as well. When their noses brushed, Branch snapped back to his senses and jerked back, turning his head away from her oncoming lips with a flush of embarrassment and frustration.

“I-I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have… I mean, what I meant w-was - “ He cut himself off from the stammering, not really knowing how to explain. Was he really about to do that? Stupid, stupid, STUPID! Everything was great until he had to stick his dumb fantasy into this. And now Poppy felt -

“No! N-no, I mean, I… I want us to continue…”

The same?

He trailed off, unable to speak at the sight of Poppy’s broad smile that graced her lovely face. One that was welcoming, and not at all bothered, and, as she had stated, wanted to press forth with this venture. An exciting venture, one that was making his heart thrum wildly in his chest, so loud he could swear she would hear it, his palms growing a little sweaty with the growing nerves. That smile… really any one of her smiles made him weak in the knees, like he’d collapse into a puddle of mushy goo at any moment. He was surprised that he managed to stay standing when she leaned in again, stopping just a hair away from his lips, fluttering her eyes shut. He understood then. She was waiting for him to close the gap, when he felt comfortable. In truth he did not feel ready. But he’d never feel truly ready to make this particular fantasy become a reality. So what was the point in delaying it any further? Besides, he didn’t want to keep the princess waiting…

So he leaned in and, wrapping his arm around her waist and tilting his head for just the right angle… pressed his lips against hers.

Tentatively.

Uncertain if she would really kiss back or change her mind and push him away in disgust.

But by some miracle she didn’t.

Instead, she hummed happily, wrapping her arms around his neck and blanketing her perfect mouth against his in a manner that was entirely unfamiliar to him, and in no way unpleasant. Her lips were warm, sweet in taste like a strawberry tart, fitting perfectly on his like a puzzle piece that had fallen right into place. And even more amazing, she had kissed back, happily so. But of course, with Poppy, everything was always done in a happy manner. She seemed incapable of feeling anything other than delight. And that attitude rubbed off on everyone around her. It was in no doubt rubbing off on him at that very moment, as she tenderly caressed his lips with her own, so softly. His entire body felt hot, flushed, tingling with pleasure. He’d never done this before, and yet it felt like he could have stayed there forever in that blissful moment, if it hadn’t been for the fact that they eventually had to pull away, the princess still hesitantly hovering over his lips afterwards as though she wanted more, a bashful, rosy blush tinting her cheeks. It drove the troll insane. How strong his desire was in that moment to grasp her by those lovely magenta cheeks and haul her towards his face again, crushing his lips to hers, making out in front of all of Troll Village without a care in the world. But even he knew his limits. So he allowed Poppy to rest her head against his shoulder instead, the pink princess snuggling up against him as he wrapped his arms tighter around her waist, not at all minding the closeness and contact. It felt so right. It felt like safety and home and… love.

And, as he absolutely reeled in the afterglow of the short, but incredible kiss - cuddled up against her with his heart feeling so full - he could’ve sworn, before he slipped his eyes closed again and basked in the otherworldly sensation, that his skin was just the tiniest shade of a long-lost blue.

Chapter Text

“May I have everyone’s attention, please?”

Thank goodness that the king’s regal voice had sounded right then and there, distracting Creek from the powerful urge to abandon his carefully crafted plan for a more abrupt one of climbing down from his perch and teaching Branch a lesson he’d never forget, in a very un-zenlike manner. The lesson of not overstepping his boundaries, of not claiming the princess with his heart, with his lips…

Those should have been MINE on hers…

Yes, King Peppy’s voice was a perfect distraction to that. It reminded him, as he witnessed the trolls’ response in gathering around the mushroom stage, what the real plan was, and that it had to be kept as so. He, after all, had not gone through the effort of rigging the wooferbug or sitting up there in the tree branch, clutching the heavy item that he’d gotten from the party factory for absolutely no reason…

It was King Peppy who also broke Branch’s illusion in the fact that other trolls aside from the beautiful princess did as a matter of fact exist.

Other trolls around them respected their leader’s word and, with excitable anticipation for what he was to share with them.

Poppy, too, beamed. “Ooh! It’s Dad! C’mon!”

By this point, Branch had gotten used to her dragging, and swiftly kept up with her pace as she scrambled to the front row, finding a place alongside the rest of her friends. To his right was Poppy, Smidge and Milton, Satin and Chenille, and Biggie. To his left was Cooper, DJ Suki, and Guy Diamond.

“My, my! It’s absolutely wonderful seeing all of you out here tonight,” King Peppy chuckled. “And how are we feeling tonight?”

The trolls enthusiastically responded to the prompt.

“Happy!” Satin and Chenille shouted at the same time.

“Very happy!” Cooper emphasized, leaping off his four legs with a joyous bounce.

“Amazing!” Biggie whooped, holding up his mewing pet worm.

“Ecstatic!” DJ Suki yelled out.

“IncreEEEediIIble!” Guy Diamond sang out.

“Excited! YEAH!” Poppy cheered with a giggle.

Branch smirked. Excited to see you excited.

King Peppy was pleased with the outcries. “Well, that’s simply fantastic to hear!” he cooed. “Because, as we all know, today is a very special day. A day in which we can commemorate for the freedom that we have to do as we trolls do best. To hug freely… to dance freely… and, of course, to sing freely!”

The bunch heartily praised that, breaking out into a harmonized rendition of “Celebration.”

“We indeed are celebrating good times!” King Peppy agreed once they’d managed to tune it down. "We’ve made many pleasant memories together since then. Though, I can say that for me none have been as near and dear to my heart as the ones that I have shared with my beloved daughter… Poppy…”

The princess blushed when the spotlight was cast in her direction, a bit shy.

Her friends were anything but, though, gladly cheering her on, with things like “YEAH! Poppy!” and “Whooo! Poppy! She’s my friend! She’s my friend!” and even “Poppy! You go, girl!”

Branch was not going to be the one to whoop and holler like that, but he did crack the briefest of smiles at the sight of the princess cast in the halo-like glow. He sighed.

She deserves it.

At her father’s wave inviting her to come onstage, Poppy gladly bounced up the mushroom, giving King Peppy a loving embrace. When she was done, she addressed her people, waving her hands so that they may quiet their cheering for just a few moments and allow her a chance to also speak.

“Okay, everyone,” Poppy began, “I just wanna take a moment, and get a little real…” She paused, giving herself a moment of silence so that her next words would make an impact. “I’d like to take a second to celebrate our king - my father - who, twenty years ago on this night, saved us all from those dreaded Bergens.”

Everyone shuddered to hear the horrible word. Branch suddenly felt a sense of precaution enter him, and he glanced around wearily. He had been distracted from his thoughts about those awful monsters for the majority of the night, having been occupied with Poppy’s company and the festive happenings around him. Oh, but must he worry? He thought about what Poppy had just said - about the grand accomplishment of having been saved from such a fate in the stomach of one of those terrible beasts, for the bravery that the King himself had displayed back in his youth. The whole purpose of that was to not have to have anybody live in fear anymore, ever again. Everybody else had been doing just that.

Everyone but me.

A thought occurred to him. About potentially how much… time could have been wasted. He had spent countless hours crafting the bunker, stocking and restocking supplies so that he could be set to the ultimate preparation. Nobody could predict the future – no, that wasn’t possible. But… maybe… Bergens were never in the cards. Maybe, just maybe, they really were safe, and had been this whole time. For two whole decades. That he was safe. And if that was the case… Oh… he could’ve put his time to a better usage. A usage that didn’t involve becoming the village’s gray grump. He could’ve been out mingling and making friends rather than whittling weaponry. He could’ve been attending gatherings and partaking in the village activities rather than hermit-crabbing in his bunker. He could’ve been with the beautiful princess onstage for real instead of imagining it in his head like he’d had for so long.

King Peppy had done a grand thing indeed, leading the trolls to freedom. This was the whole point of this very party tonight. If they hadn’t seen a Bergen in twenty years, then heck, who’s to say they wouldn’t see one for the next twenty years? The chances, he concluded, were as good as gone.

But there still COULD be a chance…

“And if it wasn’t for my father doing what he did,” Poppy continued, drawing Branch’s attention back to her, “then I wouldn’t be standing here today. With all of the friends I’ve made,” she said, gesturing out to DJ, Satin and Chenille, Biggie, Cooper, Smidge, Guy Diamond, “and also some new ones…” It was here that Poppy made eye contact with him, a connection that made him warm up on the inside.

Poppy considers me her friend?

He figured she always did, but, this time he didn’t feel like brushing it off like he did in the past. It actually felt good to think about.

Poppy’s my friend.

And if Poppy could be his friend, then…

He blushed, not finishing the thought.

“And I promise that, when it’s my time to rule, I will do everything in my power to keep you safe from harm. Not just as a duty, but because I care about each and every one of you. My dad once said 'no troll left behind,' and, well, I'm going to make sure to uphold that same promise, no matter what!"

A wonderful applause broke out at the end of her speech. Branch had to admit it was a good one. And, while he would usually question whether she was being sincere, or perhaps roll his eyes and call them merely empty words, he actually found himself believing them.

He shook his head, amused. It seemed Poppy's optimism was rubbing off on him.

King Peppy nodded his head in approval. “A well-said queenly speech,” he complimented her. “Good thing, since you are the queen.”

Poppy smiled at him. “Thanks Da - wait, WHAT?” The princess froze.

King Peppy chuckled. “I was going to wait until your 22nd birthday, but I figure it would be best to do so now…” And from behind his back, he pulled out a leafy headgear of some sort. Poppy gasped when she realized exactly what it was.

It was a crown.

“Oh my gosh, oh my GOSH!” she squealed, covering her mouth with her hands and nearly tearing in the eyes for how big of a moment this was.

The trolls in the audience immediately began to murmur excitedly.

“King Peppy’s about to give the crown up!”

“Oh my goodness, Poppy’s about to become the queen!”

“It’s Princess Poppy no more, it’s gonna be Queen Poppy!”

This too came as a surprise to Branch. I mean, he knew that Poppy was going to become the village’s queen one day, and soon, too, as King Peppy had grown elderly and had had ended up passing on much of the regular royal duties on to Poppy anyhow. He just hadn’t thought that it was going to be this night that it was to happen.

Well, he supposed the night would be full of surprises.

He was very right in that.

But at the present time, Poppy had calmed down, hands by her sides, as King Peppy faced her regally.

“Princess Poppy, my sweet daughter, do you solemnly swear to rule the people of our village with justice and mercy, for as long as you shall reign?”

Poppy nodded enthusiastically. “I do.”

“And do you, Poppy, promise to rule, upholding the sacred values of love, kindness, and acceptance to any and all trolls?”

Poppy nodded again, her ponytail bobbing. “I do.”

King Peppy grinned at her. “Then, it is my honor and joy to step down from the throne, and crown you as the new queen of our village,” he said, leaning towards her and gently placing the crown atop of her head.

Poppy gladly accepted, grinning from ear to ear and gaping in an uncontained delight at the new crown and title that she received.

King Peppy let her enjoy the moment before he grabbed her hand, raised it up high in the air, and announced, “Queen Poppy, everyone!”

And if the cheering had been enthusiastic before, it was nothing compared to how it was now. It almost sounded like twice the village was there, with how loudly they applauded and hooted and hollered, fireworks exploding. Branch himself vouched for a respectful applause, but paused midway through a clap when Poppy cupped her hands and called at the front row where he was at.

"Come on, you guys, come up here!"

The 'you guys' was her friends, of course, who did not hesitate at being called up, clambered up to join her.

Even Branch.

I mean, she did say I was her friend... right?

While he did not trip over his two feet like the others practically had in their haste, he still was able to find his place onstage among the group, who, were right in the middle of swarming her with a plethora of congratulations.

"Aw, thanks you guys! Thank you so much! Thank - Oh, hey, Branch!" Poppy greeted him as he entered the circle, the friends making room for him. They were also quite delighted to see him.

"Branch!" they all cried at the same time, then Biggie cried, "Poppy's the queen!"

"Yeah, I know," he replied, eyes fixed on the pink troll. "Um... congratulations."

Poppy rubbed her arm bashfully, feeling shy again. "Thank you."

And then, taking a chance that he never fathomed he'd take, Branch expanded his arms out at her. The queen's eyes widened and he quickly explained himself.

"I-I know it's not officially Hug Time yet, but... um..."

Poppy recovered and beamed. "Now that I'm the queen, I decree that Hug Time is ALL the time." Then, she proceeded to scoop Branch into the biggest, warmest embrace she could muster, shocking the trolls that were beside them.

"Oh my gah!" Smidge cried in awe.

"Did that -"

"- really happen?" Satin and then Chenille said.

"I NEVER thought I'd see Branch actually GIVE a hug!" Cooper said, mystified.

"AmmmaAAaaazing!" Guy Diamond sang, clapping his glittery hands in approval.

Their other friends were practically speechless eyes wide as they witnessed what was sure to be the RAREST sight that they would witness in their lives. It was astounding, it was so unbelievable! It was... It was…

... absolutely DISGUSTING...

..to one particular troll, that is...

It was before when her lips connected with Branch’s and now with how comfortable she looked with him that had made Creek had lost all hope for the so-called ‘queen’ of the village. She’d lost it completely. He could practically gag.

But then he smiled to himself.

Well… time to make HIM lose it, next…

Creek realized that this was the opportune moment he had been waiting for. Branch was onstage, right where he wanted him to be.

It’s now or never.

He closed his eyes, imagining the scene that was about to unfold right before it actually did, the scene that was seconds away.

It’s time.

Once he was done imagining, Creek reopened his eyes, damned Branch and the princess that he had fooled, and allowed his firm grip to loosen, watching as it fell, fell down, the troll entranced, mesmerized…

I’m doing this for YOU Poppy…

Poppy hadn’t known what exactly had possessed her to want to pull Branch into a kiss like that. Maybe the festive mood, or the congratulatory manner in which she was being welcomed as queen.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew she was playing with fire. But, also in the back of her mind, she remembered the dance they’d shared, just how great of a kisser Branch was. So when the fleeting thought of going forth and hugging him came, she didn’t hesitate to execute the action.

She squeezed him a little tighter, and it felt so right, so warm it made her feel that she wished the moment could last forever. She heard some of the other trolls in the background - some cheering for her upgraded royal status, some cheering just to cheer, simply because they were elated over the atmosphere that was alive with celebration!

When Poppy pulled away and looked into Branch's eyes, an apology for her forwardness was ready on her tongue, but she stopped when she saw the look that was in them. Branch was looking at her with such a tender expression, with such affection that she felt breathless. Like he hadn't spent twenty plus years so grumpy and gray all the time. Like he was a troll who had - could it be? - found true happiness.

Though right when she thought she saw the faintest hint of blue tinting his hands from where his and hers were connected, a flash of red tainted her vision.

Poppy gasped when some of the substance splashed onto her in a rather large spray, coloring her flawless pink-and-green attire a scarlet shade. She blinked in shock, a finger reaching to touch it, only to realize that it was just as sticky and brilliant as the glitter glue that she'd often used for scrapbooking. Because it was. It was a glitter bomb. And, judging from the mess it made on Poppy alone, it had been a large one.

But it was Branch who had received the brunt of it.

Perhaps the glitter had not been an extra touch, but to Creek it worked fabulously in garnering attention. He began to snicker quietly.

Now here came the best part…

Branch had not been aware that it happened until he was drenched in the sticky wetness of the glittery glue, drenching him, enveloping him in all of its sparkly red glory.

The happy voices once shouting cheerfully went dead silent as all could only stare in awe at the unexpected occurrence.

Branch only stood there at first with his eyes closed, feeling disgust well up inside of him, feeling anger and embarrassment and betrayal all at once.

And then, as if to drive the point home even more, an awful, awful sound began to hum in the air. He sucked in a breath.

The SONG.

Unlike the first time, it played full blast, across every one of the party’s speakers, booming, shuddering into every fiber of his being, making those awful memories return, making him recall those horrible claws, that ear-piercing scream and look of horror he could never erase from his mind…

His breath began to come in short gasps, his arms trembling, his lips twitching and his head getting light.

He thought he could hear King Peppy shouting his name, and Poppy desperately calling to him, though the sounds were distant in his ears. It was like his senses were muted, shutting down as he tried to focus on staying calm. And yet his body betrayed him and gave in, shaking, shivering violently, bringing forth everything to the light like a bursting dam. He could feel a scream about to rip through his throat, he could feel something rising up within him and ready to explode, hyperventilation kicking in and just about ready to unleash a horrific panic attack that would leave him crying and unable to breathe....

Oh hair, no, NO, not in front of the VILLAGE…

But before anything could commence, everyone froze at the huge, THUMP… THUMP…. THUMPing sounds that started to resonate around them. Trolls looked around, confusion stirring within and written clearly across their colorful faces as the sound got closer… and closer… and closer.

THUMP.

THUMP.

THUMP.

The bushes parted. A shadow loomed. Trolls peered up, utterly mortified. Branch, too, looked up, his greatest fears confirmed.

THUMP….

THUMP….

THUMP…

A Bergen.

Chapter Text

It was a hideous creature. Then again, he knew that it’d be. All Bergens were hideous from the inside out.

It stood tall, nearly as tall as the surrounding trees, although, unlike it, it was ugly - uglier than even the deadest, most withered trees that there were in the forest. The hands were huge, certainly capable of snatching not one or two, but more like seven or eight trolls at the very least in its hands. Yellow eyes, rimmed with a scarlet red stared down at them interestingly, grinning menacingly, its mouth open just wide enough to reveal the rows of sharp, jagged teeth, at the ready to chomp and obliviate.

Nobody reacted for a long, dreadful moment, the scene made more awkward with the fact that nobody had yet turned down the music, therefore, Total Eclipse of the Heart still remained playing on full blast. But then, the Bergen moved, its ugly, clawed hand reaching for the fanny pack at her hips that they’d all come to notice just then. A fanny pack that was perfectly Troll-sized.

At last, the first shriek sounded.

The first shriek, coming from the Pop Queen herself.

“RUN!”

As if a firecracker had been lit under them, the trolls finally jumped to action. The calm before the storm had happened. And now, broke through what was only chaos.

The Bergen’s horrible, thundering roar nearly drowned out the screams that echoed in the clearing. Trolls of all ages panicked, ran, all in uncoordinated strife that directly contrasted to the choreographs that they’d followed during their dancing at the start of that night. They were still moving their feet, alright. But this time, it was for the purpose of survival.

The word rang out in Branch’s head, the only sound he’d ended up hearing, despite the cacophony unfolding before him.

Survival.

That is what he’d trained himself for. That was what mattered. His survival, and his survival alone. If the others had truly cared for their own well-being, this party wouldn’t have happened. Gloating was a viable option – he had been RIGHT – but only if he had been anywhere else. But, seeing as the Bergen began to reach its formidable claws out at them, there was no time. No time for anything aside from fleeing.

He felt his arm being grabbed, and looked over to find Poppy - worry so uncharacteristic to her, etched on her face - hauling him. “Branch!” she cried, sounding helpless, probably feeling it, too. Pity seized him. Poppy was naive. Poppy never had a problem to face, and, truthfully, neither had the others. Until now. She hadn’t a clue what to do. But he did. And suddenly, his idea of fleeing and saving himself alone dissipated.

He stuck his glittery red arms out and grabbed her by the shoulders, his intense blue stare boring into her magenta ones.

“Poppy, I need you to get everybody into the bunker, NOW!” he commanded. “You’ll be safe there. Now, GO!”

She nodded hurriedly. “Yes! Yes, okay!” Poppy cupped a hand around her mouth and used the other to point in the direction of the underground haven. “Quick! This way, everyone! Hurry and BLEND IN! BLEND IN!!”

The trolls who heard her obeyed, and those who didn’t hear her were dragged along by those who did, hastily carrying out the order. Into the bushes they went, ducking low and camouflaging with the utilization of their hair, transforming from colors of red, and blue, and purple to colors of dull green and browns as they went along.

But even then, there were still several unlucky souls.

Branch could already tell who those would be.

Biggie ran about, frantic, arms out and voice high and fretful. “Mr. Dinkles!” he yelped. “Has anybody seen Mr. Dinkles?!”

Everybody but Biggie could see Mr. Dinkles, the small pet worm latched onto his back. Had Biggie taken note sooner, he perhaps would have quieted the fuss he was making, and not been such a target for the Bergen who, in an easy swipe of its gruesome claws, took him away.

“Ahhhhh!”

Biggie screamed as he was taken.

Seeing this, Smidge grew into worse of a frenzy than she had already been. Her gruff voice hollered in horror. “Oh my GAAAHHH!”

She, too, attracted the Bergen’s attention. She, too, was taken, plucked by the top of her dolled blue hair and into the fanny pack.

And that was not all. It hadn’t stopped there. It had only been a beginning. An awful, cruel beginning.

Cooper, attempting to conceal himself among the fronds where some of the other troll children had successfully hidden, was not as concealed as he’d believed, thanks to his long, pink neck giving him away.

Satin and Chenille tripped, the Bergen’s claw intercepting their getaway right where the twin fashionista trolls’ hair met in the middle.

DJ Suki’s neon adornments may as well have been a neon sign reading “HERE I AM!”

It was nearly the same situation with Guy Diamond, his giveaway being his glittery body.

Fuzzbert, in an attempt to roll inconspicuously past the beast in his hairball of a body, rolled at just the wrong time, crossing the Bergen’s path right at its right foot when it turned.

At her left foot was a curious sight. One of King Peppy, in a brave attempt to showcase his fearless front, was frowning up at the Bergen, teeth gritted, frown on his brows, and walking stick whacking angrily at its big toe.

“Bad Bergen!” he shouted up, sternly. “Bad, bad, Bergen!”

While fearless, the old king’s plan was not all that well thought-out. He hardly caused an injury to the creature’s foot, let alone instill fear in it with his simple words. And, although his voice certainly was loud and assertive by troll standards, it hardly was for a monster of its stature. The Bergen found the little ‘brave’ display amusing, let out a rasping sort of sound that Branch could only assume was a cackle, and then stooped down with a leering grin to snatch him up, too.

Poppy saw this and gasped.

“Dad!”

Not one about to see her father meet an unjust fate, the princess secured the trolls she’d been leading to safety and then dashed out to flank his side, tugging him away and underneath the mushroom stage, reaching the sanctuary just in the nick of time to hear another sound that made her blood run cold.

“HELP! Someone, anyone, HELP!!”

The blood drained from her face when Poppy looked up and saw a certain mauve-skinned troll that she didn’t think had even attended the party. Even if their parting words towards each other had not exactly been the warmest or on the best terms, it was written so obviously on the princess’s face that she still cared.

As it was, Branch was in closer proximity to the Bergen. And, logic presented Branch with the best solution being one in which Poppy remained hidden where she was, safely stowed away, and he were the one to carry out the troll’s potential rescue in the few, crucial seconds before he was stored into the fanny pack with all the other scrambling trolls. In that way, too, she and her father would be given the opportune moment to slip past and to the bunker.

Branch considered all of this with scrutiny. For the love of Poppy, he hated Creek. Loathed his guts and wished it could’ve been any other troll in the Bergen’s grasp than him. But, also for the love of Poppy, he would do it. He would go and save her friend if it meant saving her grief.

Reluctantly, Branch sprinted at the Bergen. “Hang tight, Creek!”

The zen troll looked very relieved. “Oh, thank goodness! Please, Branch, save me!”

“Grab on!” Branch swung his black hair out at him, the mauve troll clutching at it with both hands. Branch tugged, hoping his strength would somehow, miraculously overpower the Bergen’s strength and free the troll.

It was difficult, though. He strained and groaned, feeling like every fiber of his hair was being pulled from his head in an agonizingly painful manner. He grounded himself in resilience, feet planted firmly in the ground under him, teeth gritted and eyes screwed shut in concentration.

Curiosity got the better of him, wondering how much of a success he was actually having, and he peeked, cracking one of his eyes open.

The menacing grin of the Bergen would have been one thing - a preferable thing compared to what he saw.

The monster wasn’t the one grinning.

Creek was.

Creek’s smug grins were something that annoyed Branch to no end, but this wasn’t like those grins. There was something cracked, something loose and wild and… maniacal in that lopsided smirk and shining blue eyes. Something unhinged and vicious, something dark and vile and nothing like the laws that he supposedly upheld so much, of centeredness with oneself and such. This Creek was deceitful, vengeful… traitorous. With one swift tug in Branch’s brief moment of realization where he’d loosened slightly, Creek took the opportunity to haul the gray troll up with him in the Bergen’s hold.

The creature’s delight was a stark contrast to the panic and fury that overtook Branch. The Bergen sneered delightedly, at the ready to shove the two into its fanny pack, and pleased to have obtained more than what it had initially sought.

But Branch was not about to let it end this way.

Not if he could help it. Not by ANY means.

Fury overtook where surprise had been, and Branch bared his teeth. They weren’t nearly as sharp or imposing as the monster’s were, but, as it turned out, they still got the job done.

Right when the inside of the pack was visible, the tops of the already captured trolls’ heads poking out in their colorful strands, Branch gave it his all and planted the largest CHOMP he could manage.

He sank his teeth in as far as they could go, into that dirty, muck-tasting, rotten flesh, and the results, thankfully, were immediate.

The Bergen yowled in pain, thrusting the pair of trolls to the ground in a fury so it could tend to its unforeseen injury.

Branch fell with an oof, tumbling, rolling over and briefly feeling a flicker of pain shoot up his left arm where he’d landed upon. But pain was nothing to him for that time being. There were other matters to deal with, matters that had come to light in a truth more disgusting than the Bergen itself. Branch all but fumed with actual smoke coming out of his ears at the troll. Creek may have been mauve-skinned and green-haired on the outside. But he had shown his true colors now.

In a flash, Branch knew what was coming. It felt like it had mounted for a while now, snowballed into a full-blown avalanche. There was no turning back from this now. This was their final stand, their ultimate confrontation. He had tried to handle the building tension civilly. But if the troll’s actions were anything to go by - pulling Branch to join him in a place where they’d be sure to die, driving their rift further through the use of the princess… humiliating him, as he now realized, in front of the whole village, leaving him dripping red and foolishly glittered.

Branch had had enough.

He didn’t care who was watching, who wasn’t or how they felt. He was not going to put up with one more second of Creek.

And Creek, as it seemed, did not want to put up with one more second of Branch. A horribly mutual agreement in their equally, fury-charged distaste for one another, if Branch could say so himself.

An agonizingly fierce battle-cry later, and Creek was blindly flinging himself at Branch, fists flying and rage boiling through him like a firestorm.

Branch was ready.

If there was anything he knew, blind rage got one nowhere. There was no coordination and no precision. Which was exactly Creek's approach. So before his fist could properly connect, Branch dodged the attack with a swift sideways bound, twisting his body around to the side and letting the momentum drag him past his foe and into a defensive stance.

This did not sit well with Creek. The troll peered back at Branch, murderously, and was quicker to act than Branch had anticipated. He launched himself again, swinging at Branch and managed to catch the troll 's shoulder. Whilst not a direct impact such as, say, on the chest, the force of it still managed to cause Branch to stagger, just long enough to give Creek the opening that he needed to land another blow against Branch's ribs. This sent Branch sprawling, falling down onto the forest floor with a dull thud.

That's when Creek pounced, landing heavily atop him, pinning Branch to the ground without hesitation and unleashing all the vitriol and hate, the loathing and resentment of a lifetime at the gray troll with his punches. Despite the lower hand, Branch was not giving up, tussling and rolling beneath Creek in attempt to escape the weight of the troll, though Creek refused to yield...

... at least until Branch managed to maneuver himself just so to land a solid kick squarely at Creek's crotch.

Creek shrieked, jerking upwards and losing track of Branch momentarily in the process. Before he could recover, however, Branch was back on his feet, fists at his side, fury etched on his face, and his dark, black hair shooting out at him in a flash. The locks latched themselves like a tight-knit bind around his neck, constricting his throat and choking off his air supply with every tighter motion, lifting him off his feet and into the air. Needless to say Creek's eyes widened, his hands clawing at the hair, his feet kicking, and sputtering sounds from his lips that so obviously indicated that he wished for mercy. Branch, however, was not to easy to let him off the hook. The build-up of anger against this troll was too strong, and tighter the grip got, Creek turning purpler in the face.

But Branch was not a murderer.

He could leave that job to someone else.

Or, someTHING else.

With one sturdy fling, Branch swung Creek out several feet away from him, finally releasing him.

He could hear Creek drink in a grateful gulp of air, coughing, catching his breath before shooting his glare once more at Branch. A burst of energy found him, and he clambered up, ready to charge again at Branch when - BOOM! - A slam so hard it may as well have shaken the earth resounded.

Its cause was obvious, though Creek seemed to have forgotten the crucial little fact that there was still a Bergen in their vicinity.

After the hand had slammed down on him, immobilizing the troll, the last thing Branch saw was the mixed look of surprise and horror on Creek's face as he was promptly picked up and shoved into the fanny pack.

The Bergen seemed satisfied with the addition of Creek, but, as it seemed, greed prevented it from simply marching along on its way. Branch saw it set its sights on him, a nasty tongue passing over its lips and a sneer on its face while reaching out a hand to capture him.

Branch furrowed his brows.

Like hell that would happen.

Extending his hair like he’d done during the fight, Branch lashed it out and sturdily whipped the hand away with a loud SMACK!

It was the already injured hand, too, and the Bergen yelped in anger, nursing the now doubly-wounded area and perhaps deciding that one more troll was truly not worth it.

It finally made its leave, frustratedly knocking down several pods on its way out of the village, leaving large, indented footprints in its wake, the rumbling sound of its lumbering figure getting fainter and fainter, until there was silence.

No more music blasting. No more trolls shouting. Not even the natural sounds of nature, like the plants rustling or the birds squawking.

Just pure silence.

Branch blinked, bearings gathering.

Then he observed, shuddering as he did so.

Evident by the overturned pods and destruction all-around, it was not a wise idea to mess with a Bergen. Not that Branch would go and seek out the trouble to begin with. He knew better. But these trolls hadn’t. And now they had paid severely.

All that’d been right was now very wrong. The DJ booth was cracked in half, each end jagged where it’d split. Food that once looked scrumptious was splattered about in a squashed, unrecognizable mass. The banners were ripped and strewn. The clearing was littered with debris. Something pink lay among a throng of fallen branches.

Branch double took, jerking his head in that direction. Something… PINK?

His blood ran cold as motion came alive in his feet, scurrying over to the spot, moving aside the branches and finding a sight that he was dreading he would not see…

Poppy.

But this was not the Poppy he’d earlier seen, the girl who’d weakened his knees with her radiant smile, all primped and prepared to the max to dance the night away. This Poppy was fallen, literally and figuratively, looking worse for wear. A variety of bruises and cuts decorated her face, one particularly large on her forehead, dripping with blood. The beautiful green-and-pink outfit was a frumpled mess. Her hair was bedraggled. Her lips were slightly parted. And she was ever so still. If Branch hadn't known any better, he could swear she was dead.

The troll paused.

If Branch's blood had ran cold before, it surely froze solid now.

She's... she's not actually... not really.... right?.... RIGHT??

Frantically, he grabbed her wrist, pressing his fingers in them… and feeling no pulse.

Branch began to tremble.

Oh, no… please don’t let it be… please…

He pressed his ear against her chest… and heard no indication of a heartbeat.

Fear gripped him, but he set his jaw.

I’m NOT going to let it be this way.

Gently, he tilted her head back, pressing one palm against her chest and the other pressing against the back of his hand. He pumped rhythmically, counting in his head until he reached thirty.

…twenty-eight… twenty-nine… thirty.

Next, he pressed his lips against hers, although its purpose differing greatly from how it’d been before, as he pumped air into her lungs, hoping to revive her. The result was an ever-still Poppy, and no changes to her vitals.

The effort became more desperate from there, as several times he went at it - pumping and breathing - and several times the pink troll did little more than lay there. It was difficult to admit it was a vain effort. But when Branch did, that’s when the tears fell.

Hot and wet they slid down his face, ugly sobs wrenching from his throat as he held her limp body, his head falling to her lifeless chest as though he were trying to hide the shame in his face, his shoulders shaking violently with grief.

I did it again.

Once more, it had been his fault. Someone he cared about, deeply - someone he LOVED - was gone. And all because of HIM.

Sure, the Bergen had been the root cause of the destruction, its unexpected arrival throwing the town and partygoers into a frenzy of chaos.

But I didn't stay by her side.

I didn't make sure she was safe.

I... I let her die...

He was grateful he was already gray, but suddenly thought of the notion of possibly becoming even grayer. Images of his Grandmother flashed through his mind, though they were brief compared to the recollection of Poppy slideshowing there, in a collage of her picturesque happiness, beauty, and positivity. Poppy who had so much longer to live, who'd met an untimely end that should have never happened to her. Who should have stayed with Branch to enjoy the party and enjoy their time together. Poppy who'd been his friend, whom he'd wanted to keep around forever, even if they would've just been friends... because that was what she wanted, too, wasn't it?

Regardless, it was all just wishful thinking now.

Branch closed his eyes and hugged Poppy tighter, crying harder, providing the sound that had been so lacking in that emptied forest clearing. His hands shook, and his breath came short and choppy, like he was fighting for his life in a raging sea. He clung to her, unable to bear the notion that he should ever let her go again. He wept until he didn't think he had anymore tears left to cry, then settled into a silent mourning, his escalated heartrate deccelerating gradually. 

Thump-thump-thump-thump. Thump-thump-thump. Thump-thump.

Thu-thump...... Thu-thump...

Branch's ear perked. Had... had he heard that? Surely not... and surely not from Poppy? The pink troll hadn't any mortality left... But from where Branch's head still lay on her chest, he strained, listening in and wondering if he had truly flown the coop.

But there it was again.

Thu-thump..... thu-thump....

And then once more.

Thu-thump... thu-thump....

And after that, too.

Thu-thump.... thu-thump...

A strained beating sound from within her chest, but a sound nonetheless. A heartbeat. A life.

Hope welled up deep within Branch. So Poppy was still alive. At least she seemed so. But if he was to ensure that she recovered appropriately, that meant one very critical thing:

He needed to get them out of there.

Carefully he stood, pulling Poppy up along with him, cradling her as gently as possible within his arms. He staggered, but managed not to drop her. She was light, barely weighing anything at all, which helped his case. It was with ease that he managed to maneuver himself around the wreckage, carefully avoiding any obstacles, picking his way through the scattered remnants of the party and heading back to the place he should have stayed in that whole night to begin with.

His bunker.

It’d been a long day. Longer than any other in Branch’s past. Longer than the day of his and his brothers’ final concert. Longer than the one where he’d lost his Grandma.

He was numb to the stares as he entered the bunker, probably would’ve kicked the trolls out had it been a regular situation of them infiltrating his home for the fun of it. But this situation was anything but the usual type.

They were quiet, probably in shock from the turn of events from the evening as much as he was, and he heard the hushed, frantic murmurs as he made his way past with the pink troll in his arms. Her father looked in not much of a better state, some trolls tending to him, having laid him down on the couch after what appeared to be a fainting spell resulting from the shock of it all.

Branch shook his head. He couldn’t go back out there right now. Actually, probably not ever. The time he had been preparing for was now. The bunker was stocked to its fullness, in full ?"surpluss with enough food and water to last him ten years - eleven if he drank his own sweat… which, he would.

Well…

Branch quickly recalculated, factoring in new circumstances into the matter.

Maybe more like a few months…

Considering the fact that Poppy and the other trolls from the village were thrown into the matter…

Because there was no possible way he would risk exposure to the danger again. Sure, the bunker may darker and damper and not as colorful than the norm was, but it could be adjusted to. He adjusted, after all.

He had a lot to talk to her about once she awakened. Had she… been a part of the prank? He looked down at his still red-glittered body and wanted desperately to think not. Would she… want to send a search party for the missing trolls? A foolish thing to do in his eyes. No troll left behind was a good motto, but, considering the situation, not a very wise one. All in all, his plan was the better one when put up alongside that one. Because of his plan, there was safety, there was survival. There was hope.

And, should anyone years from now find them stowing away, he knew exactly what it was that he would say.

My name is Branch, and I’m a troll. Why do I live in a heavily fortified survival bunker? Because right outside my door, lurks a NIGHTMARE…

A nightmare that he would not have to face. Not him, and not…

He perked up at the sound of stirring.

Poppy.

The princess (no, no, the Queen) was finally coming to.

Branch perked, attentively sitting up and arranging a compress and a glass of water to bring to her.

Yes, he had a good plan. A foolproof one. He thought so. And if he, a now-experienced survivalist thought so, then it was sure to be alright.

So he calmed himself, and diligently went to cater to Poppy.

THE END