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Chapter Text

Branch stood at the threshold of the door, his tiny hands gripping the edges of his vest, as he watched his older brother depart into the fading afternoon light. The air was thick with the scent of blooming flowers wafting from the nearby garden, but his mind was filled with the responsibilities that had just been entrusted to him. His immediate older brother had assigned him two very important tasks, both of which Branch took to heart with an earnest determination. 
The first task was a simple one: care for Grandma Rosiepuff. This job felt manageable to Branch because she was an adult, capable of taking care of herself. He understood that his primary responsibility would be to keep her company, a duty he felt honored to embrace. 
The second task loomed larger in his mind. As he walked towards the corner of the cozy room, a flutter of anticipation filled his chest. There, nestled safely in a crib, was the newest addition to their family—an egg that had yet to hatch. Their brother Floyd had specifically told him to be a good big brother, to help care for their sibling until he returned. Floyd’s promise hung in the air like a beacon, igniting Branch's resolve to be the best big brother he could possibly be.
"Hi, baby," he whispered softly to the egg, leaning closer as if to share a secret. "My name is Branch, and I'm your big brother. When you hatch, we’re going to be the best of friends!" 
Grandma Rosiepuff, sitting nearby with a deck of cards spread before her, glanced up with a warm smile. "What are you going to name them?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.
Branch turned back to his grandma, his surprise evident on his face. "You mean I get to name them?" he asked, wide-eyed.
"Of course," she replied, her smile growing even wider. "Your brothers helped name you, after all."
Taking a moment to steady himself, Branch focused on the egg as if it held all the answers. "I think I’m going to call her Willow," he announced confidently.
His grandma chuckled and raised an eyebrow. "What if the egg is another boy?" she probed playfully. "You could have a little brother in there."
Branch shook his head vigorously, his expression serious. "I’m going to have a little sister, Grandma," he insisted, gently laying his hand on the smooth surface of the egg. "I can just tell."
Rosiepuff laughed softly, returning to her game, but her eyes sparkled with affection. "Alright then, peachfuzz." She glanced at him with a smirk. "But you should really get to bed. It’s been a long day, and you want to set a good example for your baby sister, don’t you?"
Letting out a big yawn, Branch nodded sleepily. "Alright, Grandma," he murmured. He turned back to the egg, his voice a tender whisper. "Goodnight, Willow. I’ll see you in the morning." He shuffled over to Grandma, wrapping his small arms around her in a warm hug. "I love you, Grandma. Goodnight." With that, the two-year-old trudged off to his bedroom, drowsiness overtaking him.
Two days later, amidst a flurry of excitement and the soft light of morning, the egg began to crack. Branch’s heart raced as a little troll with bright red hair emerged, squirming into the world right before his eyes, accompanied by the loving presence of Grandma Rosiepuff. She scooped up the tiny girl, cradling her close. 
"Hi, Willow," Branch grinned, his heart swelling with joy. "Welcome to the world. I’m your big brother, Branch."
Willow smiled broadly, her tiny fingers reaching out towards him. "Hi, Branch," she cooed, her voice a sweet melody in the air.
For the next three years, their trio thrived in a bubble of happiness. Branch eagerly made new friends and even formed a boyband, with Willow as their most enthusiastic supporter. She cheered them on at every practice, her little body bouncing with excitement when she joined in their dance routines, her limbs gradually gaining control. 
Branch often found himself reminiscing about his absent brothers, sharing stories with Willow about the fun they had together. He animatedly told her about the secret hideout he envisioned creating for them all when they returned home. Willow, though she didn’t fully grasp the need for a hideout, listened intently, captivated by her brother's passion. She reveled in his enthusiasm, soaking in every detail and dreaming alongside him, their bond growing stronger with each shared moment.
Unfortunately, the happier times in their lives came to an abrupt end. One sunny afternoon, while Willow was curled up in a cozy nap, her brother Branch was lost in the joyful sound of his own singing. His voice echoed through their leafy home, filling the air with vibrant notes as he practiced. So wrapped up in his melody, he was blissfully unaware of the danger lurking nearby—a Bergen was creeping up silently behind him, ready to snatch him away. 
In a moment of quick thinking and bravery, Rosiepuff, their grandma, dashed forward and pushed Branch out of harm's way just in time. However, she wasn't quick enough to escape the grip of the Bergen herself.
Hours later, Willow awoke from her nap, stretching and shaking off the remnants of sleep. She ventured out to find Branch but was met with a grim sight. At the bottom of their giant tree, she found him sitting despondently, his once vibrant colors now dulled to a grey hue. "Branch?" she called softly, concern creeping into her voice as she approached him. "Are you okay?"
Branch turned to her, tears streaming down his cheeks. “She’s gone, Willow. A Bergen took Grandma,” he choked out, his voice trembling with sorrow.
Willow's heart sank at his words. She had heard stories about Bergens—the dreaded creatures that came to their tree once a year, drawn by the promise of eating trolls to feel a fleeting sense of happiness. Each year, Grandma reminded them of the importance of hiding during the holiday known as Trollstice, ensuring their safety. But now, with Trollstice still two months away, the Bergens had arrived far too soon.
Willow felt a wave of sadness wash over her, but she pushed it aside. Her brother needed her now more than ever. Without hesitation, she climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck, showing him the warmth of her presence. “It’s okay, Branch. I’m here,” she whispered, holding him tightly as he wept into her shoulder.
When Branch finally calmed, he forced a shaky smile through his grief. “Come on, sis. Let’s go back to the pod. I’m sure you need to eat something,” he said, attempting to sound brave.
Nodding resolutely, Willow took his hand, and together they stood up to make the long trek back to their grandmother’s pod. When Branch succumbed to sleep that night, the weight of grief settled over Willow, and she allowed herself to cry silently, feeling the loss of their grandmother deeply.
As the days passed and Trollstice drew near, the entire tree community watched over the grey troll siblings with a mix of concern and pity. Whether they aimed to protect them or simply keep them hidden from their own happy children, Willow couldn’t tell. King Peppy was diligent, doing everything in his power to care for all the children, but he had his own brood to prioritize.
It was because of the king’s children that a desperate plan was conceived: an escape from the looming threat of the Bergens. This year, the chef had selected his youngest daughter as a special treat for the Bergen prince, compounding the urgency for the trolls to find sanctuary.
At dawn on Trollstice, the air was thick with trepidation as all the trolls were already scrambling through the tunnels, leaving Bergen town behind. Little Branch, just five years old, held tightly to his sister Willow’s hand, who was still small at three years old. They rushed along with the throngs of other trolls, fear propelling them forward.
“It’ll be okay,” Branch muttered, though his voice lacked conviction. Willow nodded, though she suspected he was mostly trying to reassure himself. A smile crept onto her face as she marveled at her brother’s attempt to remain hopeful, even amidst the grey shadows of fear that lingered over them.
Once they successfully escaped Bergen town, the duo followed King Peppy to the expanse that would become their new troll village. Willow’s eyes widened with awe as she took in the beauty of their new home. “This place is beautiful, Branch! Come on!” she exclaimed, her excitement bubbling over as she tugged on his hand to explore the vast, open space.
But Branch hesitated, anxiety plastered on his face. “It’s too open out here, Willow. What if the Bergens come and find us?” he worried, his voice trembling.
Willow paused, her brow furrowing as she looked up at him. “But the king said we were safe now. Is he lying?” 
“We don’t know for sure that we are safe,” Branch replied, a note of urgency lacing his voice. “They are still out there, and they could come looking for us.” He sighed deeply, anxiety pooling in his stomach. “I’d feel a lot better if we weren’t out in the open like this.”
Accepting his apprehension, Willow shrugged. “Alright then.” She reached into Branch’s vest pocket and revealed the carefully drawn plans for the hideout he had been working on. “Let’s get started on this, then,” she urged, pointing excitedly at the map. “It’s underground, so the Bergens can’t find us!” She giggled, envisioning all the adventures they could have. “We can even make rooms for our brothers, so when they come to find us, they’ll have a place to sleep.”
Branch's face softened, grateful for Willow's enthusiasm and understanding. “Thanks, Willow,” he said, his heart warming a bit. He took her hand firmly, leading her away from the festive chaos that had begun. “Let’s find a spot to begin building our hideout.”
Willow’s eyes sparkled with determination. “I think it should be next to some water,” she suggested brightly. “That way, you can build your waterslide!”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea just yet,” Branch admitted, shaking his head cautiously. “What if it floods our home before we have a chance to live in it?”
Willow nodded thoughtfully, her mind racing with possibilities. “That makes sense. We’ll build the waterslide later then.” She tugged him playfully into the woods. “Now, where should we get started?”

Chapter Text

When Willow was five, she had her first official encounter with the young princess Poppy. It was a bright, sunlit morning, and she had eagerly followed her older brother, Branch, into the depths of the woods to gather supplies for their home. The sound of rustling leaves and birds chirping surrounded them as they walked. After a while, Willow grew bored and began wandering among the sturdy trunks of the trees, her imagination sparking with curiosity. 

"Branch, what exactly are we looking for again?" she asked, her voice ringing with innocence.

Branch, slightly annoyed, rolled his eyes. "We need to gather more food, Willow. And don't forget, we also need wood, water, and supplies for our brothers' rooms. It's important.

Nodding thoughtfully, she scampered to catch up to him, her heart racing with ideas. "Couldn't we just get the supplies for our brothers' rooms in the village?" she suggested. "I think I saw some lovely blankets in the market! And if we build the waterslide, we'll never have to worry about getting water again." Her eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of creating a fun place for everyone to enjoy.

Branch tensed at the mention of the village. "I don't think I can go into the village," he replied, anxiety creeping into his voice. "It's too noisy. What if the Bergens hear us and come after us?"

Willow sighed, remembering how her brother was still haunted by the fear of the Bergens—large, terrifying troll eaters who had caused them so much trouble before. "Alright," she said softly, trying to understand his worry. She looked up at him, her eyes brightening with a new idea. "What if we shear some puffalo to make yarn from their wool? I can learn to knit and create blankets for our brothers!" 

Branch considered this for a moment. It would indeed keep Willow safe inside the bunker, where he could keep an eye on her. "Sure," he finally said, a sense of resignation in his voice. "I can learn to make yarn too. It could be a useful skill to have later."

Before Willow could share any more ideas, the calmness of the woods was suddenly shattered by an enormous creature's low, menacing growl. Her ears perked up, instinctively alert. "What was that?" she whispered, her heart racing.

"I don't know," Branch murmured, unease washing over him. "But it definitely doesn't sound good." He began walking quickly back towards their bunker. "We should get back." He glanced around, only to find that Willow was no longer at his side. "Come on, Willow!" he called, irritation creeping into his tone. "Are you playing a game right now?" Anxiety replaced annoyance when he realized he hadn't heard her usual giggle from wherever she had been hiding. "Willow? Seriously, this isn't the time for games." 

Panic set in as he whispered, "Please tell me you just got better at playing hide-and-seek and didn't run towards that growling thing in the woods." Without another thought, Branch discarded the wood he'd gathered and sprinted toward the source of the noise.

When he drew closer, he heard the deep growls again, and his heart dropped. Climbing up a nearby tree, he spotted Willow perched on a high branch alongside a smaller pink troll he recognized as Poppy. They were surrounded by a herd of growl-beasts, their fierce eyes locked onto the two girls.

Branch sighed in relief, grateful to see Willow safe but frustrated at her reckless curiosity. "What are you doing up here?" he asked, trying to mask his annoyance.

Willow looked at him, a triumphant grin plastered across her face. "I found out what was causing the growling!" she exclaimed proudly. "And I got Poppy to safety!"

Poppy glanced up at Branch, her smile brightening the tense moment. "Hi, I'm Poppy! Do you want to be friends?" 

Willow smirked playfully. "We're already friends," she said, then furrowed her brow, looking uncertain. "But now I don't know how we'll get out of this."

Rolling his eyes, Branch took a deep breath as he moved closer. "You remember how to use your hair to swing, right?" When Willow nodded, he turned to Poppy. "Climb onto my back, and we'll get out of here. Follow me, Willow, and don't fall behind." With determination, Branch prepared to lead them out of the underbrush and away from danger, hoping they could navigate safely back home.

Branch gently set Poppy down on the soft, grassy patch, his brows knitted in concern as he turned to face his sister. They had just escaped the growl-beasts, their danger still fresh in his mind. "What were you thinking, running off like that?" he asked, frustration lacing his voice. You could have gotten hurt out there!" His gaze shifted to Poppy, who appeared blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation. "And what are you doing so far from the village, Poppy? You're the princess. You have to be more careful."

Looking bewildered by her brother's outburst, Willow folded her arms defiantly. "But I was fine! I had to know what the growling was all about," she replied, shrugging nonchalantly. A mischievous grin flickered across her face. "Turns out it was just growl-beasts."

With an exasperated groan, Branch rubbed the back of his neck. "How many times do I have to tell you? Things that growl are definitely not friends. It's best to avoid them at all costs. They could be dangerous."

"But you growl all the time!" Willow shot back, annoyance bubbling to the surface. "If I listened to that advice, I'd hardly ever be around you."

Poppy, watching the sibling exchange with curiosity, couldn't help but giggle at their antics. "You two are so funny! Would you like to come to my birthday party? I'm turning four!" Her bright smile radiated pure joy, contrasting sharply with the tension.

Branch shook his head firmly, his expression a mixture of disbelief and concern. "There's no way we're going to some loud party in the village. It's too risky." He reached for his sister's and began leading the two to the village. "Let's get the princess home safely, and then we'll head back to the bunker."

Willow sighed softly, relenting to her brother's protective instincts. She turned her attention back to Poppy, a warm smile spreading. "Don't mind him. He really doesn't like parties." 

Poppy giggled again, convinced she could one day persuade the two siblings to join her festivities. 

Once they returned to the village, they quickly said their goodbyes to Poppy before heading back to the familiar safety of the bunker. As they walked, Willow wrapped her arms around Branch's arm, her expression shifting to one of sincerity. "I'm really sorry I scared you earlier. I just really wanted to know what that noise was."

Branch let out a deep breath, the tension easing slightly. "It's okay. I just… I can't lose you too. I need you to be more careful out there. Can you promise me that?"

Willow nodded earnestly, her face glowing with determination. "Yeah, I promise. I'll be more careful." With their plans for foraging forgotten, she made her way into the cozy living room of the bunker, settling down with one of the puzzles they had obtained. Time passed quickly as they both engaged in their evening routines, shifting from playful moments to the necessary tasks that followed dinner.

As they prepared for bed, Willow paused in the doorway to Branch's room, her eyes searching his for acceptance. "Branch? Would it be okay if I go play with Poppy?" She pouted lightly as she noticed his hesitance. "Please? I really like Poppy. She seems nice."

Branch sighed, exhaustion evident in his stance. "Fine," he relented, rubbing his temples. "You can spend time with Poppy, but only as long as you stay in the village. It might be a good thing for you to be around other trolls, instead of isolated with just me all the time," he admitted, crossing his arms.

"Really?" Willow's face lit up with joy. She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. "Thank you! I'll be super careful. And I'll gather supplies while I'm in the village, so we won't have to forage for everything." Despite his reluctance to show it, she understood that he cherished their closeness. "Goodnight, Branch. I love you." With that, she scampered off to her room, heart buoyed by the promise of new adventures.

Hours slipped by, shrouded in the peaceful silence of the bunker, but Willow was stirred awake by a low sniffling sound. Instinctively, concern knitted her brows together. Branch had been plagued by nightmares each night, with shadows of their runaway brothers haunting his dreams and fears of their grandmother's fate lurking in the corners of his mind. She knew he struggled to seek comfort, always keeping his worries to himself.

Yawning softly, she rubbed her tired eyes and quietly tiptoed out of her room. Pushing open his bedroom door, she peeked inside. "Branch? Are you awake?" she called softly, sensing his presence.

Branch lifted his head from his pillow, surprise flickering in his tired gaze as he recognized her. "Willow? What are you doing up this late?" 

"I had a nightmare," she confessed, her voice small and timid. "Can I sleep with you tonight?" 

Sighing, Branch lifted the covers as an invitation. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked gently, sensing her hesitation when she crawled into bed beside him. He smiled softly when she shook her head. "It's okay, little sis. I'm here. You're safe."

As Branch settled back into a fitful sleep, Willow snuggled closer, her little heart reassuring him silently. "Don't worry, Branch. Everything will be okay," she whispered into the darkness, promising herself that they would face whatever nightmares came their way—together.

Chapter Text

Willow, age seven

At seven, Willow's anticipation for her brother's elaborate ten-story waterslide—something they had dreamt of during their happier, carefree childhood days—had morphed into frustration. With her brother out foraging in the nearby woods, she decided to take matters into her own hands. Armed with a makeshift shovel and an unyielding spirit, she began to dig what she hoped would eventually become the waterslide of her dreams. Unfortunately, she quickly realized that her mechanical skills did not match her enthusiasm. The ground was damp and stubborn, and her ambitious plans led to an unexpected flood seeping into their underground bunker's first floor.

Hours later, Branch returned, his arms filled with foraged treasures—edible mushrooms, wild herbs, and a few roots. He opened the door to find a muddy, distressed Willow trying in vain to plug a growing hole with nearby debris, her tiny hands straining against the relentless flow of water.

"What happened?" Branch exclaimed, his heart racing. "What did you do?"

With desperation and guilt, Willow responded, "I was trying to make the waterslide!" Her voice trembled, not just from panic but from a deep sense of disappointment. "But I didn't realize how much pressure there would be," she admitted, her frustration spilling over as she fell into the mud around her. "I didn't even get to start installing the pipes!"

Branch sighed, exasperated but also sympathetic. He quickly pulled his sister out of the muck; the moment's warmth contrasted starkly against the cold, soaked ground beneath them. "Let me take care of this," he said firmly yet gently. "Go take a shower and start on dinner."

"But I should help!" Willow protested, her eyes wide with sincerity. "I made this mess. I can help clean it."

"Oh, you're definitely cleaning this up," Branch nodded, a slight smile creeping onto his face despite the chaos. "But later. I'll get the hole plugged up, and we'll have dinner. After things dry out, you can clean everything up."

Reluctantly, Willow acquiesced, watching her brother as he set to work. She trudged down to the cozy living area they had created together, her heart heavy. By the time she finished washing up and prepared a simple, steaming pasta dish—heavy on garlic and laden with the herbs Branch had foraged—Branch emerged from the shower, dripping and frowning slightly, yet relieved.

"Alright," he said, looking serious yet slightly amused, "The hole is blocked off. I think it's safe to say the waterslide is not happening." Willow's shoulders slumped, and she began to idly pick at her dinner, her appetite fading as disappointment settled in.

Branch noticed. "I'm sorry, sis. But let's be realistic; we live underground. There was no way a waterslide would work down here."

"I guess so," she replied softly, chewing on a piece of pasta.

The two siblings shared an unspoken bond over quiet bites of dinner, the silence filled only with the distant sounds of dripping water and their thoughts. After a few moments, Willow stood up, determination returning to her voice. "The floor should be dry enough. I'm going to clean up the mess I made."

Branch nodded appreciatively. "I'll handle the dishes," he said, but just as she was about to climb the stairs back to the first floor, he called after her. "And Willow?"

She hesitated, turning back to meet his gaze. "Don't touch my tools anymore."

That stern reminder certainly struck a chord. From that day forward, Willow never so much as glanced at her brother's toolbox again. Sensing the need for caution, Branch started locking his tools away when he wasn't around, knowing all too well that her curiosity could lead to more mischief. When he had to fix something, she would seize the opportunity to learn how to bake and preserve different foods.

To Willow's surprise, Branch actually welcomed her culinary experiments. Baking was never his strong suit, and it kept her engaged and out of trouble while they navigated life in their underground world. Strangely, both siblings found their own strengths within the confines of their unconventional home, creating a unique harmony forged through trial and error and a lot of love.

Willow, age nine

Thanks to their adventurous rescue of the princess, Willow and Poppy quickly forged a strong friendship, spending nearly every free moment together. Poppy, eager to include Willow in her vibrant social life, introduced her to a tight-knit group known as the Snack Pack. This delightful crew was a band of misfits, each with a unique talent. It included crafty minds and artistic souls who embraced Willow with open arms. Branch, Willow's protective older brother, was more than willing to let her immerse herself in this new circle of friends. He felt assured that the vibrant activities would keep her safe. At the same time, he could concentrate on fortifying the bunker and stockpiling supplies for any future challenges.

Willow thrived in her newfound camaraderie with the Snack Pack. They taught her practical skills like sewing intricate patterns, knitting cozy scarves, and cooking delicious meals that filled the air with mouthwatering aromas. Despite her deepening bond with them, Willow hesitated to leave the comfort of her known world to attend the lively parties Poppy endlessly invited her to. Especially since Branch refused to attend. "Sorry, Poppy," she'd say, flashing a sheepish smile, "Branch and I are a package deal. If he doesn't want to go, I'm not going."

As the years passed, Willow became integral to the Snack Pack, finding her place among them for over four joyful years. During this time, she encountered Creek, an odd troll whose peculiar nature left her feeling uneasy. His unpredictable behavior raised red flags in her mind, making her wary of him from the start .

One afternoon, while Willow was happily playing with the Snack Pack, Branch ventured deep into the woods to gather berries, determined to stock up on provisions for future meals. When he finally returned to the bunker, he was greeted by the sound of Poppy sprinting toward him, urgency in her gait. "Branch!" she called out, breathless. "You need to come to the village quickly!"

Branch raised an eyebrow, instinctively skeptical. "Poppy, if this is some elaborate scheme to lure me to another party, count me out. You know I avoid the village."

"It's not that!" Poppy insisted, her voice rising with desperation. "It's Willow."

At the mention of his sister, Branch's demeanor shifted instantly, and he took off running toward the village. As he sprinted, he could hear a cacophony of shrill screams. With each step, the cries grew louder, alarming him further. When he finally reached the clearing where the Snack Pack often gathered, he was presented with a wild scene.

There, amidst the chaos, was nine-year-old Willow clinging to Creek's back, her fingers tangled in his hair as she yanked fiercely. The Snack Pack darted around them in a futile attempt to pull her off.

Branch's face turned to stone as he stared incredulously at the spectacle. "You have got to be kidding me," he muttered, suppressing his annoyance.

In the clearing, Creek was flailing helplessly, tears streaming down his cheeks. Poppy looked at Branch with wide, nervous eyes. "What happened?" he asked, crossing his arms.

"I don't really know," Poppy shrugged, exchanging worried glances with the other members of the Snack Pack. "We were playing tag, and Willow seemed tired, so she sat out for a bit. Creek came over to chat with her, and before we knew it, she was screaming and attacking him." Poppy shifted uncomfortably. "Can you please get her to stop? She's really hurting him!"

With an exasperated sigh, Branch interjected, "Willow, stop this. Let Creek go." He approached his sister, trying to maintain a calm demeanor as he watched her continue her assault.

"Not until he apologizes!" Willow shouted defiantly, yanking harder on Creek's hair, oblivious to the growing concern around her.

"Willow," Branch said in a warning tone, tightening his grip on her arm. "Let. Him. Go."

After a moment of stubborn resistance, Willow finally relented, releasing Creek's hair and jumping off him. "Fine," she huffed, glaring at Creek as if to send a warning. "Just stay away from me and my brother." Then she turned to Poppy, her expression softening slightly. "Sorry, Poppy. I can't hang out when you invite Creek over anymore."

Poppy nodded, though disappointment shadowed her face. "I understand," she replied, though she felt a pang of confusion . "If you ever change your mind, you're always welcome to join us."

Willow walked back to the bunker in silence beside Branch, who finally broke the quiet. "Wanna tell me what that was all about?"

Willow frowned, her voice barely above a whisper. "Branch? Is there something wrong with us?"

Taken aback, Branch looked at her, puzzled. "What do you mean? There's nothing wrong with us."

"We live underground, not in the village with everyone else," Willow responded, her arms crossed tightly. "We don't go to parties, and people in the village only come around when I'm with Poppy and her friends. What's wrong with us?"

Annoyance flared in Branch's chest. "What did Creek say to you?" he asked sharply. "There's nothing wrong with you."

"He called you sick," Willow admitted, her voice tinged with anger. "He said I shouldn't live with you because I'm going to catch your greyness." She scoffed in disbelief. "Greyness isn't even contagious!"

"And that's what made you pull his hair?" Branch asked, exasperated. "You can't just beat up trolls because they say something hurtful."

Willow's eyes blazed with protectiveness. "Nobody insults my brother," she replied fiercely.

Branch sighed deeply as they entered the bunker. He gestured for Willow to help him with dinner prep, trying to stave off the weight of the conversation. As they worked side by side in silence, he finally looked up from his plate. "Hey," he said, catching her gaze. "Thank you for standing up for me back there." He paused, knowing he needed to clarify. "But it's probably not a good idea to beat up trolls just because they say something unkind. I appreciate it all the same, though."

Willow snickered, a playful grin creeping onto her face. "No promises." Her eyes sparkled with mischief as she met Branch's smirk. "But I'll try to be nicer."

Despite the rocky incident with Creek, Willow enjoyed her time with the Snack Pack, though she'd leave at the first sign of Creek's appearance.

Willow, age 15

Willow's unexpected passion for baking blossomed into a cherished hobby during their time confined in the bunker. In the stillness of their underground world, where the light rarely breached the walls, and the air was thick with anticipation, her kitchen became a vibrant sanctuary, a canvas for her creativity. While her friends in the Snack Pack often relied on music and song to lift their spirits, Willow found that singing only added to her brother Branch's distress. She had learned to adapt, channeling her energy entirely into her baking.

At fifteen, Willow took great pride in her growing skills. Her latest project was meant to celebrate her friend Poppy's upcoming birthday—a special treat to make up for not being able to attend the princess's fourteenth birthday party. Willow had promised Poppy something delightful to share with her friends, determined to make it memorable.

As Willow carefully crafted her dessert, she noticed her brother, Branch, sitting hunched over at the kitchen table. Though Branch was usually a grumpier Troll, he seemed particularly upset. The dessert, a creative centerpiece that needed time to cool in the freezer, was a brief distraction from the concern tugging at her heart. Setting it aside, she faced her brother, crossing her arms with a knowing look. "Alright, spill it. What's got you in such a mood today?"

"I'm not in a mood," Branch replied, slumping further into the chair, avoiding her gaze.

A snort escaped Willow as she blew a strand of hair from her face. She had tried a new hairstyle—a playful side-swept look—and she knew her brother well enough to see through his facade. "Sure. And that's why you've been sending daggers into the table for the last fifteen minutes."

Branch finally gestured towards the calendar plastered on the wall with a long sigh. "It's been over twelve years since we left the tree. I thought for sure someone would have found us by now."

Willow's expression softened; she understood the weight of his words. "Right. The brothers," she said quietly, acknowledging their long-lost family ties. She began assembling her dessert with delicate precision. "I'm really sorry they never came. I know how much you miss them." She looked at him, concern etched on her face. "Are you going to be okay while I bring this to Poppy?"

"Yeah," he replied, though his eyes drifted to the intricate dessert she was building. "What exactly are you making, anyway?"

A grin spread across Willow's face as she revealed her creation. "It's a full working carnival!" She enthusiastically pointed out the various rides she had constructed, her excitement bubbling over. "The tricky part was making sure the carousel and Ferris wheel pieces could move independently. And I had to engineer the cookie wheels on the roller coaster so they'd spin without toppling off."

Branch smirked, a flicker of pride breaking through his gloom. "And this is coming from the same girl who nearly turned our house into an indoor waterslide."

"Well, it's not like I can try that again, can I?" Willow shot back playfully, rolling her eyes. She carefully stood up, cradling her delightful creation in both hands. "I could really use your help getting it out of the bunker. It turned out bigger than I anticipated."

Branch nodded, springing to his feet and guiding her to the elevator he had finally managed to install after countless hours of tinkering. Once they reached the upper level, he carefully pushed the door up for her and took the dessert. "I'll wait here until you get back. Let's head down together."

Willow smiled gratefully and set off toward the village, anticipation bubbling in her as she approached the site of Poppy's party preparations. When the birthday girl spotted her, an immediate grin broke on her face. "Willow!" Poppy exclaimed, rushing over to embrace her. She lifted the dessert, placing it carefully on a table adorned with streamers and confetti. "Thank you so much for coming! And this carnival dessert—are those tiny cream puffs on top?" She pointed, eyes wide with excitement.

Willow felt her heart swell with happiness as she nodded. "Yeah! I hope you all enjoy it." She enveloped her friend in a heartfelt hug, feeling the warmth of their friendship envelop her. "I'm really sorry I can't stay for the actual party. Branch is waiting for me."

Poppy returned the hug, her smile unwavering. "Don't worry about it! One day, I'll get you both to come and have some fun with us." She glanced back toward the bustling preparations, brimming with energy. "I should get back. See you later?"

Willow waved as Poppy dashed off to continue her party arrangements. She suddenly remembered something and called out. "Oh, Poppy!" When her friend turned, she grinned. "Branch says 'Happy Birthday!'"

Poppy beamed and returned the gesture, her spirit shining like the sun. "Tell him I said thank you!"

Upon returning to the bunker, Willow found Branch waiting for her, arms crossed and a questioning look on his face. "What took you so long? I thought you were dropping off the dessert."

"I had to pass along our birthday wishes," Willow replied casually as they stepped back into the elevator. "Calm down, will you?"

"Well, as long as that was it," Branch said, though he paused thoughtfully as soon as they entered the kitchen. "Wait a minute," he added, a panicked tone in his voice. "What do you mean 'our'?"

Willow, age 20

Willow liked to think of herself as a relatively careful person. She had to be, especially since her brother, Branch, often forgot to take care of himself. If she got hurt, who would be there to ensure he remembered to eat properly or sleep? He was so worried about the Bergens that he often forgot to take care of himself.

So it was especially frustrating when she twisted her ankle while learning a new dance move with Cooper, the jovial quadruped who was always eager to show off his impressive agility. In hindsight, it hadn't been the wisest decision to mimic a move that required so much balance and grace—qualities she didn't quite possess with just two legs. Instead of enjoying the rhythmic dance, she was confined to her bed, her foot propped up and wrapped in an ice pack, with Branch checking in on her every few minutes like a concerned parent.

After what felt like the tenth visit in as many minutes, she groaned in annoyance. "Branch, I'm fine!" she protested, her voice a mix of exasperation and discomfort. "I didn't even break anything. Dr. Moonbloom assured me it's just a sprain, and I need to keep my weight off it for a couple of days to help reduce the swelling."

"I'm not taking any chances," Branch replied stubbornly, stepping into her room with a couple of carefully prepared sandwiches for her dinner, a slight frown creasing his brow. You're staying in bed for the next few days. I won't let you make it worse."

Willow grumbled but accepted one of the sandwiches, her stomach growling at the smell of fresh bread and fillings. "Can you at least let my friends know I'm okay?" she asked, her voice lowering into a more pleading tone. "I'm sure Cooper and the others are anxious about me."

Branch hesitated, appearing he might argue against it. Still, when she gave him her best wounded-puppy look—a trick she had perfected over the years—he groaned in exasperation. "Seriously? You're twenty years old. That look should not have this effect on me," he muttered, shaking his head as he walked toward the door. "Fine. I'll go talk to your friends for you. Just stay put."

Once Branch left the bunker, he made his way to the Snack Pack's usual hangout spot, a cozy clearing surrounded by trees, where they often gathered to share stories and snacks. He let them know that Willow was on the mend and would be back with them in a few days, a wave of relief washing over the group. They promptly sent him off with well-wishes, cheerful messages, and a collection of get-well gifts for his sister that included colorful drawings, a handmade card, and a basket of her favorite treats.

When he finally returned to the bunker, he quietly set the gifts on Willow's bedside table and went to check on her. She was still napping peacefully, her chest rising and falling gently beneath the covers. Branch reached over and adjusted the blanket, pulling it snugly around her.

Willow stirred slightly, her eyes fluttering open to meet his. "Did you talk to them already?" she asked sleepily, her voice soft and slightly raspy from the earlier annoyance.

"Yeah," he replied, a hint of a smile breaking through his usual seriousness. "They were really happy to hear you're alright." He chuckled lightly. "They even sent you a pile of presents you'll have to check out tomorrow."

Willow's face brightened with a grin, her spirits already lifting at the thought of her friends' kindness. "That was really sweet of them. I'll make sure to thank them later." She curled up into a ball, her face a picture of contentment despite her injury. "Thank you for doing that, Branch. I know you're not the biggest fan of my friends."

Before he could protest, she interjected with a teasing snort. "I know you don't like me leaving the bunker to hang out with them, but I appreciate you making an effort anyway."

With a soft sigh, Branch looked at his sister, who was already drifting back into slumber, her expression serene. "I'll tolerate anybody for you, sis," he murmured, leaning down to kiss her forehead. "Goodnight." He slipped out of her room, the weight of the day easing from his shoulders as he closed the door quietly behind him.

Chapter Text

Willow was spending the day with Princess Poppy. She had volunteered their time to read a story about their history and Trollstice to the younger trolls. It was a good story, as it was the twentieth anniversary of their escape.

She remembered the escape better than most , so she tuned out most of the story. "Twenty years ago today, King Peppy made us safe," she heard Poppy say. She looked up and smiled at her friend. "And now every Troll is free to be happy and live in perfect... Harmony." Willow smiled and joined in Poppy's harmony with the children.

"And that's why we hug every hour," a little Trolling said smiling .

"Yep," Poppy grinned and closed her book.

"I wish it was every half hour," another little Troll said, disappointed.

"So do I," Poppy said standing up. "But that wouldn't leave much time for singing and dancing, now would it?" Poppy moved to put the scrapbook back on the book stand.

"Princess Poppy?" A little Trolling asked, raising her hand. "Do the Bergens still want to eat us?"

Poppy turned around and grinned. "You bet." The Trollings all gasped in horror. "But just because it's the only way they'll ever be happy," she assured as she ran to comfort one of them.

"Poppy," Willow warned as the little Trolls started to panic. "Maybe this isn't the best conversation to have right now."

"But I don't want to be food," a Trolling said about to cry.

"Don't worry," Poppy comforted. "No Troll ever will be. And that's why we're celebrating with the biggest party ever." Poppy grinned, excited. "Everybody's going to be there." Willow grimaced when she heard that. She forgot to tell Poppy the bad news.

"Everybody?" Keith asked, popping his head out of Poppy's hair, her cowbell on his head.

"Everybody," Poppy confirmed grinning .

"Actually, Poppy," Willow started before Poppy grabbed her cowbell and started tapping out a beat. Willow sighed and smiled. It could wait. Poppy was about to start singing.

(Poppy)

Everybody, move your hair and feel united

ohh

Everybody, shake your hair and feel united

Willow hurried to follow her friend down the slide as she sang. "Branch is going to kill me when he finds out," she muttered.

(Poppy)

Yeah!

Everybody's coming to the celebration

I'ma hook you up with an invitation

Let your hair swing and party with me

No bad vibes just love, you'll see!

Poppy and Willow landed on DJ Suki's wooferbug and started dancing as Poppy kept handing out invitations.

(Poppy, Suki, and Willow)

Do the D-A-N-C-E

One-two-three-four-fight

Stick to the B-E-A-T

Get ready to ignite

The wooferbug burst into butterflies and the girls landed at Creek's yoga session. Willow forced a grin on her face and kept going. It was extremely rude to just walk out of a music number, no matter how much you hated a Troll.

(Poppy, Suki, Willow)

You are such a P-Y-T

Catching all the lights

Just easy as A-B-C

That's how you make it right!

Willow watched with Suki as Poppy hopped down and joined Cooper and Smidge.

(Cooper)

Oh, it aint hard out here

When you're doing it right

Put a smile on blast

That's the Troll life

(Poppy)

And I'm here to help you through it

Come on Smidge, I know you can do it!"

Poppy said the last bit landing on her friend Smidge's weights. Smidge grunted as she struggled to lift the weights with her hair. "Your confidence gives me strength!" She yelled as she lifted the weight into the air.

The weight spun with Poppy on it and she was able to send out the rest of her invitations.

The gathered Snack Pack walked over to where their friend Biggie was taking a picture of his glitter-worm, Mr. Dinkles, and his invitation. "Okay, Mr. Dinkles," Biggie said, grinning. "Say Leaves!" Mr. Dinkles responded with a ' mew' and the invitation fell over before Biggie got a picture. Biggie hung up the picture next to the others and stepped back. "Something's missing," Biggie said.

Poppy motioned for Guy Diamond to go over and do his thing. He grinned and walked over and farted some glitter onto the portrait. The Snack Pack grinned and jumped in the air. "That's it!"

Satin and Chenille joined the rest of the Snack Pack on a giant leaf and they continued the song.

(Snack Pack)

Don't stop, don't stop

Don't stop the beat

I can't stop, can't stop

Can't stop the beat

I won't stop, won't stop

Won't stop the beat

(Poppy)

Go!

Poppy joined hands with Satin and Chenille while Willow got in the back to join the Snack Pack and the rest of the village in their dance.

(Poppy)

Everybody,

Shake your hair and feel united

Ohh

Sunshine day,

Everybody's singing

Sunshine day

Everybody,

Move your hair and feel united

Ohh Yeah, ohh

As Poppy sang the last notes, a bunch of the Trolls made a pyramid including heart designs and rainbows with the very top having a very confused King Peppy.

(Everybody)

Yeah!

The group was left gasping for breath a little as the song ended. Willow grinned and started to relax from where she was standing until she heard a slow clap start. She grimaced and went up to where Poppy was standing on Copper's head. There in front of them, was her older brother, Branch.

He was leaning against a plant carrying some sticks for the bunker. "Unbelievable guys. Really, really great. Good job." He started walking towards them. "I could hear you from a mile away."

Willow flinched. She hadn't realized they were that loud. "Good," Poppy said, relieved. "I was worried we weren't projecting enough."

Willow walked over to her brother. "Sorry, Branch. Didn't mean to get that loud."

Branch grunted in acknowledgment before turning to Poppy. "Poppy, if I can hear you, so can the Bergens."

"Oh, boy," Guy Diamond said, rolling his eyes.

"Here we go again." That was Cooper.

"Oh, Branch." And Biggie.

"You always ruin everything," Satin said, her hand on her hips.

"Warning us about the Bergens," Chenille added.

" No I don't," Branch defended, looking at the Snack Pack.

Willow smiled, thinking about all the times Branch panicked because he thought a Bergen was near. She frowned after a moment. Those were times Branch was genuinely convinced a Bergen was near. He had a right to be afraid after all they had been through.

"Leave Branch alone, guys," Willow said, crossing her arms. "Sure, the past times he panicked it turned out to be nothing. But that doesn't mean he's wrong." She wrapped her arm around her brother's shoulders. "It wouldn't hurt if we're a little more careful."

"Come on!" Poppy insisted. "We haven't seen a Bergen in twenty years. They're not gonna find us."

"No," Branch insisted. "They're not going to find me and Willow, because we'll be in our highly camouflaged, heavily fortified, Bergen-proof survival bunker."

"You mean you're not coming to the party tonight?" Poppy asked, disappointed.

"But it's going to be the biggest..." Satin and Chenille started.

"The loudest..." Followed by Dj Suki.

"The craziest party ever!" And Cooper finished.

The Snack Pack cheered while Branch looked at them incredulously. "Big? Loud? Crazy? You're just going to lead the Bergens right to us!"

"Are you sure you wanna invite this party pooper to poop on your party?" Cooper asked Poppy.

Willow raised an eyebrow at Cooper. "I'd watch who you call a party pooper," she warned. "I'm not going to let you insult my brother just because we're friends."

Poppy grinned. "Yes, I want him there." She looked at Branch. "I think everyone deserves to be happy."

"I don't do happy," Branch deadpanned. Willow rolled her eyes. He really didn't.

"Branch, I know you have happiness inside you," Poppy insisted. "You just need our help to find it." She pulled out an invitation and opened it. It was a personalized pop-up invitation that sang. "Celebrate freedom from, the Bergens!" Poppy leaned forward for Branch to take the invitation as it blasted glitter in his face. She smiled. "What do you say, Branch?"

Branch smiled as he took the invitation before flinging it to the ground and stomping on it. The Snack Pack gasped in horror while Willow sighed and put her face in her hands. "Awesome job, Branch," she muttered annoyed. "As if my friends needed another reason to call you a grump."

"I wouldn't be caught dead at your party," Branch said wiping the glitter off his face. "But you will be. Caught and dead."

"Woah woah," Creek said as he floated down into the area with one of his bug friends. "Easy, Branch. Easy." He nuzzled his bug friend on the top of his head. "Thank you for providing safe passage, brother. Namaste." He waved the bug off.

Willow scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Not this guy again," she muttered, annoyed.

Creek grinned and turned to Branch. "Okay, first of all, mate, thanks for sharing your unique perspective on things. Again." Biggie and Cooper started snickering. "But just for now, why don't you try on some positivity, eh? A little positivity might go with that vest."

"Okay, fine," Branch looked at Creek, annoyed. "I'm positive you all are going to get eaten."

Creek was going to respond when everyone's hug time bracelets went off. "Hug time!" Poppy called, her arms outstretched. The Snack Pack agreed and gathered around for a group hug, pulling Branch and Willow in it.

Willow smiled as she let herself hug and be hugged by her friends. It wasn't long before Branch managed to pull himself out of the hug. "Someday, when the Bergens find us," Branch started, walking away, "and the survival of every Troll is in your hands," Willow sighed and pulled herself out of the hug as well." I sure hope the answer is singing, dancing, and hugging. "Because that's all you know how to do."

"That is not true," Biggie defended. "Poppy can also scrapbook."

Branch shook his head, annoyed. "I can't believe you're gonna be queen one day." He looked at his sister. "Come on, Willow."

Creek stood beside Willow. "Are you really going to drag your sister down into your pool of sadness with you, Branch?" He asked, smiling. "Maybe she actually wants to go to the party."

Willow turned to face Creek, fists clenched and glaring. "Back away, pretty boy." She pushed him away and looked at Poppy, her face apologetic. "I'm sorry, Poppy. Maybe some other time."

Poppy smiled sadly as her friend walked over to her brother. "Yeah. Maybe next time."

Willow crossed her arms as she followed Branch to the bunker. "That was uncalled for, Branch," she said when they reached the door. She opened it and let him in with his armload of sticks. "You didn't have to insult her."

"She's not taking this seriously," Branch insisted. He put his stick pile down. "We could be attacked any day by Bergens and she wouldn't know what to do." He sighed and sat down. "Was Creek right?" He asked, looking at her. "Am I 'pulling you down with me'?"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Ignore that moron," She insisted. "He'll say anything to make you seem like the bad guy." She started making some sandwiches for dinner.

"And what about your friends?" Branch raised his voice, a little upset. "They think I'm crazy and the Bergens are gone. Do you think I'm crazy?"

Willow paused in her sandwich-making and looked at her brother. He looked surprisingly vulnerable. She sighed. "I think, you have a different perspective than everyone around here." She sat down at the table to look her brother in the eyes. "Many of the Trolls our age don't remember much of Bergen Town. And the older ones don't like to talk about it and do what they can to forget it." She crossed her arms. "I can't say I remember a lot about the Troll Tree. But I do remember how scared you looked every time you thought a Bergen was nearby. You're traumatized, not crazy, and it's important to me that you know that."

Willow stood up and patted her brother on the shoulders. "I don't know if a Bergen is going to show up, but I know it makes you feel better and safer when we're in the bunker. So we'll stay in the bunker tonight while the village parties. And this way, if a Bergen does show up, they won't find us." She grinned and walked back to her sandwiches.

Branch sighed and smirked at his younger sister. "How did you end up the mature one?" He leaned back in his chair. "I'm the big brother."

Willow snorted. "Probably around the time I beat up Creek for the first time."

Branch nodded. "Yeah, that's probably it. Good job not hitting him today," he added when she put a sandwich in front of him.

"It was difficult," Willow admitted, picking up her sandwich. "He has a very punchable face."

Chapter Text

Willow had snuck away from the bunker, taking a moment to watch the party from a distance. She often found joy in imagining herself and Branch blending in with her friends below, laughing and dancing without a care in the world. It was tough, grappling with the pain of not being able to fully enjoy the moment alongside Poppy, who was, as she had promised, reveling in the fun. With a wistful smile, she leaned closer, taking in the vibrant scenes unfolding before her—the pulsing lights, the infectious laughter, and the spirited music that seemed to beckon her.

Lost in her thoughts, she didn't notice Branch approaching until he scoffed, interrupting her reverie. Startled, she turned to him, a sheepish grin forming on her face as she greeted him. "Hey, bro."

"I can’t believe she’s actually hosting this party," Branch muttered under his breath, his expression tight with concern. "I just think it’s a terrible idea." With that, he turned on his heel and began walking away, the tension in his shoulders evident.

“Maybe,” Willow conceded, determined to keep the conversation going as she followed him. “But Poppy needs to figure this out on her own. You can’t just lecture her into changing her mind. Besides,” she added, a bright smile breaking through, “at least she’s having fun.”

Branch paused, glancing back over his shoulder. "You know, if you really want to go to the party, you can. I won’t stop you. You’re old enough to make that choice."

Willow studied his face, picking up on the unspoken fear lurking in his eyes at the thought of her joining the chaotic revelry of the party. She snorted, playfully grabbing the bundle of sticks he was carrying. "As if I’d leave you here alone to party with Creek of all trolls," she said, grimacing at the thought of his smug, self-satisfied grin. "I’d much rather hang out with my big brother."

At her words, Branch visibly relaxed, a weight lifting off his shoulders. “Hey,” she said, extending her fist toward him. “You and me, right?”

He met her fist with his, a small smile breaking the worry on his face. "Me and you," he echoed. "Now come on. It’s getting late, and that party is going to go wild without us."

The two walked in companionable silence until they reached the familiar entrance of their bunker. Branch made his way to his alcove, where he hid a stash of Poppy invitations, while Willow slipped into her room to take a much-needed shower, eager to wash away the dust and fatigue of the day.

Once she had cleaned up, Willow caught her reflection in the mirror and let out a heavy sigh. It was exhausting to maintain a bright facade in a world that had shown her family so much cruelty. The whispers of the villagers and the disdainful glances directed at Branch, who was only navigating his fears, weighed heavily on her heart. And then there was Creek—his cutting comments about her and Branch’s struggles lingered like a bad taste.

But most oppressive of all was the feeling of being trapped in her own role as the perpetual optimist. The truth was, she was weary. Wearied by the need to be a source of light for Branch, whose vulnerability was palpable. If she allowed herself to dwell on her own exhaustion, she risked losing him to the darkness that often threatened to engulf him. For his sake, she tucked those troubling thoughts away for now, resolving to give him the strength he needed. There would be time to confront those feelings later. For now, she chose to be the happy troll he needed.

She took a deep breath, held it, and released, the tension leaving her body.  "Here comes the sun, do dun do do,"  she sang softly.  "Here comes the sun, and I say. It's alright."  She smiled and looked at her reflection. "It'll be alright."

Willow stood before the mirror, her fingers delicately brushing her long hair down to the side of her head. The soft fabric of her night dress flowed gently around her as she adjusted it, feeling the familiar comfort of home enveloping her. With a book clutched tightly in one hand, she made her way toward the living room, her mind still buzzing with the stories waiting to be explored within its pages. As she descended, she couldn’t help but overhear Branch's voice drifting up from the level below.

"You all said I was crazy, huh?" Branch called out, a note of triumphant amusement echoing in his tone. "Well, who's crazy now?" He gestured grandly to himself, a proud grin plastered across his face. "Me. Crazy prepared."

Willow frowned, her curiosity piqued. "Branch?" she asked, setting her book down on a nearby table as she reached the bottom. "What are you doing down there?"

"I was just telling Poppy," Branch replied, crossing his arms with an air of confidence, "that we can live down here for a good ten years without a hitch!"

Willow rolled her eyes, exasperation flooding her features as she ran a hand through her hair. "For the hundredth time, I am not drinking our sweat,” she grimaced at the very thought. “That's just disgusting. You should really think about digging a spring down here so we can have fresh water instead."

"Willow!" Poppy gasped, her wide eyes betraying her urgency as Willow hopped down to join them. "A Bergen stole our friends!"

At the mention of the Bergens, Willow froze, her heart racing as fear washed over her. "A Bergen found the village?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "They weren't supposed to do that!" Panic surged through her, and she turned to Poppy. "We were supposed to be safe. You said we would be safe!"

"I know," Poppy replied, her expression almost pleading. "But I need Branch's help to go find them."

Branch shook his head vehemently, leaning back against one of the sturdy shelves that lined the bunker. "And I'm not doing it," he asserted firmly. "We’ll be safe here, in the bunker. There’s no need to go out there and risk everything."

"I'm sorry," Poppy admitted, a hint of remorse sinking into her voice as she looked between them. "I should have listened to you, Branch. I threw the party anyway, and now it’s my fault our friends were taken. I don’t know what to do."

Branch raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms tighter as he quipped, "Why don’t you try scrapbooking them to freedom?" His deadpan delivery elicited a reluctant smile from Poppy, despite the grim situation.

"Solid burn, Branch," Poppy chuckled softly, but her gaze quickly shifted back to Willow, her expression fraught with uncertainty. "Any chance you'd be willing to come with me?"

Branch’s frown deepened. "No way is she going anywhere near the Bergens," he interjected firmly, his protective instincts flaring up.

Willow exhaled a heavy sigh, her heart aching for their friends and the dangerous situation they faced. She cast a sympathetic glance at Poppy. "I’m really sorry about our friends, Poppy. I truly am. But I don’t know if I can face the Bergens without Branch by my side."

Poppy nodded, a mix of disappointment and determination written across her face as she began walking towards the elevator. "Well, thanks anyway," she said quietly, her mood visibly disheartened.

"Hey, anytime, Poppy," Branch replied with a grin as he stood upright again, trying to lighten the mood. "See you in ten years." Poppy didn’t respond as she pulled the lever, the mechanism groaning to life as she ascended to the top of the bunker, leaving Willow and Branch in the dimly lit space below, aware of the growing stakes and the uncertainty of what awaited them outside.

As the bunker got darker, Branch furrowed his brow and made his way toward his sister. "I’m really sorry about your friends," he said gently, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Willow, her arms tightly crossed in front of her, looked down, her voice barely a whisper. "I’m going to miss them a lot," she confessed, a hint of sadness in her eyes.

To distract her from the heavy weight of loss, Branch suggested, "How about we run an inventory check? It’ll keep your mind off things." Just as they began to walk away from the somber scene, a loud grinding noise echoed through the air, signaling the platform descending toward them.

“Oh, hey, Branch?” Poppy called out, her voice cheery yet mischievous. “Could I borrow something?”

“What?” Branch sighed, irritation creeping into his tone.

“Your bunker!” Poppy beamed, an impish grin spreading across her face.

With a shared look of confusion and horror, both Willow and Branch exclaimed, “What?”

Poppy, undeterred, rushed to press the button on the elevator, waving her arms excitedly as she called out to the other Trolls in the village. “Come on in, everyone!”

“Poppy, what are you doing?” Willow’s voice quivered with panic as she took a step back, watching in disbelief as Poppy welcomed a throng of Trolls into the bunker.

“Branch said you have enough provisions to last ten years, right?” Poppy said, her hands confidently on her hips, a smug smile on her face.

“Yes,” Branch replied, dread pooling in his stomach. “For me and Willow! It’ll last them two weeks, three max!”

Poppy’s smile widened. “Then I guess I better hurry,” she chirped, skipping back to the elevator.

“Wait! Wait! Wait!” Branch managed to grasp her hand, desperation in his eyes. “You won’t last a day out there.”

“And you won’t last a day in here,” Poppy shot back, her confidence soaring as she turned to see the chaos unfolding. Trolls were already gobbling up the carefully stored food and drinks, while the smaller ones delighted in triggering the traps Branch had meticulously set up. “Solid burn returned,” she whispered to herself, trying to contain her laughter.

As the elevator platform began to rise, Poppy waved enthusiastically at the crowd of Trolls before her. “Bye, everyone! See you soon!” With a flourish, she pulled the lever, and as the platform ascended, the Trolls below joined her in a lively group wave. Beaming, she glanced at her hug time bracelet, counting down the moments until the next gathering.

When the final countdown reached one, all the bracelets chimed simultaneously, prompting the Trolls to charge in for a massive, joyous group hug.

Watching the scene unfold, Willow couldn’t help but smirk at Poppy’s antics. “Branch isn’t going to stay down there for long,” she thought, rolling her eyes as she stealthily made her way up a level to the living area.

Once alone in her room, she quickly changed into a comfortable pair of pants and a red t-shirt she had made herself. Her hands skillfully packed camping supplies into a sturdy backpack not only for herself but also for Branch. If they were heading to Bergen Town, they would definitely need provisions.

Meanwhile, as the third hug time session wrapped up, a sense of urgency filled Branch. He dashed up to the living area, determination etched on his face. “I’m going to help Poppy,” he declared, belief surging within him.

“Great,” Willow smiled, her eyes brightening. “I have our packs ready.”

“You’re not coming,” Branch said with adamant conviction, his jaw set. “No way I’m letting you get anywhere near Bergen Town.”

Willow raised an eyebrow, unfazed by his protest. “And what makes you think I’m just going to stay behind?” She shrugged into her own pack and tossed the other one toward her brother. “You’re the only family I have, Branch. I refuse to stay here worrying about whether you’ll come back alive.” She glared at him defiantly. “If you try to argue, I’ll just follow you anyway.”

“Fine,” Branch relented, grumbling as he pulled on his pack. “Doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“No one’s asking you to like it,” Willow grinned, seizing the moment. She confidently pulled the lever to raise the platform, an excited glimmer in her eyes. “You and me?” she asked, extending her fist toward him.

“Me and you,” Branch agreed, returning the fist bump with a half-hearted groan at the daunting thought of catching up to Poppy. “Let’s get this over with.”

“That’s the spirit,” Willow replied, forcing cheer into her voice, though deep down, her own excitement about venturing to Bergen Town was tempered by uncertainty. “Let’s find Poppy.”

Chapter Text

When Willow and Branch finally caught up to Poppy, it was to see her wrapped in spider webs with a bunch of spiders lowering themselves to her. Branch grabbed her with his hair and dragged her away from the surrounding spiders.

Branch stood in front of Poppy while Willow rested on her knees behind them. He tossed the cooking pan at one of the spider's heads when they started getting too close. When he saw that it didn't have much effect on them, he used his hair as a whip to get them to back away.

As he led them to a giant cave, Willow began cutting the webs away from Poppy. When she got the Troll free, Branch ran up and placed his ear next to her head. "Hang on!" He grabbed two bugs and rubbed them together.

The two bugs lit up  and  he placed them on Poppy's chest  , shocking her  .

Poppy sprang back up, her energy infectious as she exclaimed, " Get back up again! " Her eyes lit up when she spotted Branch. "Branch! My man, you are right on time!" She beamed at him, then quickly turned her gaze to Willow, who extended her hand to help her rise. "And you brought Willow!" Poppy grasped Willow’s hand, using it to pull herself up with a bright smile. "That's fantastic!"

Branch, looking a bit skeptical, scoffed as he watched a swarm of bugs flutter away into the air. "Oh, right. Like you really knew we were coming."

Poppy nodded enthusiastically, her voice playful as she replied, "Yeah, I figured after the third hug time, facing off against a Begen wouldn’t seem so terrifying." She paused, glancing at Willow with genuine curiosity. "I’m honestly a bit surprised to see you here though," she admitted, a tilt in her head showcasing her intrigue. "I didn’t think you’d convince Branch to let you join."

"Well," Willow chimed in, smirking confidently, "he tried to leave me at home, but I insisted on coming along." She adjusted her backpack, a playful determination in her eyes. "I packed everything we’d need, so we were ready to go by the time he finally made up his mind."

Poppy looked at the duo, her heart swelling with gratitude. "All right! Let’s do this!" she declared, a sense of purpose radiating from her as she began to stride forward. "The sooner we reach Bergen Town, the quicker we can rescue everyone and return home safely."

Sharing an unimpressed look, Willow raised her eyebrows at Branch as he caught up to Poppy. "Wait, wait, wait," Branch called out, coming to a halt. "What’s your plan?"

Poppy turned back to them, her expression earnest. "I just told you," she insisted. "Rescue everyone and make it home safely."

"Okay," Branch said, crossing his arms in frustration. "That’s not a plan; that’s a wish list." He shot a glance at Willow, exasperation creeping into his voice. "I am seriously regretting letting you talk me into letting you come along.”

Willow snorted dismissively, her determination flaring as she started walking ahead. "As if you could stop me," she called back over her shoulder, a spark of defiance in her eyes. She turned to Poppy, a hint of worry creeping into her expression. "Wait, you didn’t have a real plan before you just took off, did you?"

Poppy raised an eyebrow and chuckled lightly. "And I suppose you two are bursting with brilliant strategies?" she retorted, a playful smirk on her face.

Willow lifted her hand in a half-hearted gesture, brushing off the concern. "I had part of a plan," she admitted, her voice less confident now as she tried to stifle the flutter of anxiety in her stomach. "I’m still working out the kinks, alright?"

"Of course I have a plan," Branch chimed in, puffing out his chest with mock seriousness. Clearing his throat, he began detailing their intentions. "First, we get to the edge of Bergen Town without being spotted. Then, we get inside by sneaking through the old escape tunnels which will then lead us to the Troll Tree, right before we get caught, and suffer a miserable death at the hand of a horrible, bloodthirsty Bergen! Hold on a second," He paused and glanced at Poppy with wide eyes, an incredulous look crossing his face. "Are you actually scrapbooking my plan?"

Poppy beamed from her spot on the ground, a pile of colorful fabric scraps surrounding her. "Uh-huh. Yeah," she replied cheerfully, her scissors snipping away. With a final flourish, she held up her masterpiece to Branch. "Done!"

Willow chuckled, eyeing the creation with a glint of admiration. "I don't know, Branch. It looks a lot more cheerful than what you've got going on," she remarked, noting the vibrant colors and optimistic images that Poppy had meticulously added. It was true; Poppy’s scrapbook depicted their adventure as a triumphant journey filled with laughter and joy, with everyone emerging victorious.

Suddenly, a burst of glitter erupted from the pages and showered down, landing squarely on Branch’s face. He wrinkled his nose, looking utterly defeated. "There will be no more scrapbooking," he huffed, blowing out a stray sparkle that had lodged itself in his nostril.

As they resumed their trek, Poppy’s spirits remained high. "So, what about you, Willow?" she inquired, her curiosity piqued. "You mentioned having the beginnings of a plan, right?"

Willow shrugged nonchalantly, though her expression was etched with uncertainty. "Eh, it’s fairly similar to Branch's, at least up until we reach the Troll Tree." She paused, her brow furrowing slightly. "I think it should be manageable to slip through Bergen Town without being seen, especially since they're likely to have our friends locked up and their focus will be diverted. They’ll probably be held captive at the castle, but… I still haven't figured out how we’re going to find them once we actually make it there."

Poppy offered an encouraging grin, her confidence unwavering. "Don't worry," she reassured Willow, her voice laced with optimism. "We’ll find our friends, and everything will work out just fine."

The trio continued their journey toward Bergen Town, the sun casting a warm glow over their path as Poppy sang cheerfully, her voice a bright note against the quiet rustle of leaves. "Do you have to sing?" Branch interjected, his tone dripping with annoyance.

"I always sing when I’m in a good mood," Poppy replied with a playful grin, leaping off a giant stick that lay across their trail. Her spirit was infectious, but Branch seemed immune to her charm today.

"Do you have to be in a good mood?" Branch shot back, already weary of her relentless cheerfulness. Ahead of them, Willow walked with purpose, her eyes scanning the underbrush for berries to accompany their dinner. They would need to settle down soon to rest, and the fading light hinted that nightfall was not far off.

"Why wouldn’t I be?" Poppy responded, her voice brightening even further. "By this time tomorrow, I’ll be reunited with all my friends! I can’t wait to see what they're up to right now!" Her imagination carried her away, painting a vivid picture of joyful reunions.

"Probably being digested," Branch muttered under his breath, his sarcasm cutting through the air like a knife. Willow paused mid-bend, her fingers brushing the earth as she dropped the berries she had just gathered. While she hoped that their friends were still alive, the darker possibility tugged at the edges of her mind, and she squeezed her eyes shut, adamantly refusing to consider it.

"They’re alive, Branch," Poppy insisted, a spark of determination lighting her eyes. "I just know it."

"You don’t know anything, Poppy," Branch replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. "And I can’t wait to see the look on your face when you discover that the world isn’t all cupcakes and rainbows. Because trust me, it isn’t. Bad things happen, and sometimes, there’s nothing you can do about it."

Poppy frowned, a hint of hurt flashing across her features. She quickly scampered in front of Branch, blocking his path with conviction. "Hey, I know it’s not all cupcakes and rainbows," she said earnestly. "But I’d rather live believing it mostly is than to be like you. You don’t sing, you don’t dance. You’re so grey all the time! What happened to you?"

Branch halted abruptly, shushing her, glancing around as if the very mention of a Bergen would summon one. "A Bergen?" Poppy asked, her voice laced with nervous curiosity. Branch offered a noncommittal maybe, and Poppy looked around, suddenly uncertain as she watched him walk away. A moment later, she placed her hands on her hips, unimpressed. "There’s no Bergen, is there? You just said that to get me to stop talking."

Branch nodded slowly, whispering, "Maybe." He continued walking past Willow, who could only grin and roll her eyes, accustomed to his particular brand of behavior. Classic Branch.

Willow stepped closer to Poppy, falling into step beside her. "You know, Branch isn’t a huge fan of discussing what happened," she explained softly. "It’s not a great memory for any of us."

"So you know what happened?" Poppy asked, her curiosity piqued. "But he’s been like this for so long."

Willow hesitated, weighing her words carefully. "I do know," she finally admitted, her voice almost a whisper. "But I’m not going to talk about it." She smiled sheepishly, the weight of unspoken history hanging between them. "Like I said, it’s a really bad memory for us."

The trio ambled along in a comfortable silence, the fading light casting elongated shadows as dusk began to settle around them. Eventually, Willow and Branch decided it was time to set up camp for the night. Branch ventured into the surrounding woods to gather sticks, his hands deftly collecting kindling for a fire, while Willow busied herself with their sleeping arrangements. She expertly unfurled their sleeping bags, taking care to ensure they were stacked neatly, and then retrieved a container filled with the warm, hearty vegetable soup she had prepared the day before.

“This is good,” Poppy exclaimed, her face lighting up as she took another hearty spoonful of the steaming soup. “Do you make all your food?”

“Thanks!” Willow replied, her cheeks flushing with pride. It was rare for her to have anyone outside of Branch appreciate her cooking, especially since her culinary skills usually went unnoticed by most trolls, aside from the desserts she occasionally whipped up. “I usually handle the cooking and our clothing, while Branch makes sure the bunker is always stocked and in good shape.” She shot a playful grin in Branch’s direction, who was busy finishing off his own bowl of soup. “We make a pretty good team.”

“That’s so sweet!” Poppy said, her voice infused with genuine warmth. “It must be wonderful to have a sibling you can rely on.”

“It really is,” Willow affirmed, her heart swelling with gratitude for their close bond. After they finished eating, she collected their bowls and stood up, her gaze directed down the dim path ahead of them. “I think I spotted a stream a little way down, so I’m going to wash these up.”

“Be careful,” Branch cautioned, his eyes momentarily leaving his bowl of soup to watch her. He then set about storing away the remnants of their dinner. Willow nodded appreciatively and made her way to the stream, the sound of water bubbling over stones softly greeting her ears. Once she returned, they all crawled into their sleeping bags, fatigue washing over them in anticipation of the early journey to Bergen Town that awaited them in the morning.

As Poppy nestled into her sleeping bag, she sighed contentedly and pulled out a small, worn photograph of her friends. “So special,” she murmured happily, leaning back as if the weight of her worries could lift with the image. “Good night, Cooper. Good night, Smidge. Good night, Fuzzbert.” Willow did her best to tune out Poppy’s affectionate goodnights, each one a bittersweet reminder of those who weren’t with them and the troubles they faced.

“And good night, Poppy,” Branch snapped in exasperation, turning away in a desperate attempt to find some peace. He settled in, but not long after, the tranquility was interrupted when Poppy’s hug time bracelet chimed with its familiar sound. She glanced towards Branch, her eyes sparkling with eagerness for a hug, but he curled his body inward, clearly unwilling to engage. “Don’t even think about it,” he warned, his tone light yet firm.

Poppy pouted, her enthusiasm momentarily dulled, before her gaze fell on Willow. Willow, ever the supportive friend, smiled and got up to offer Poppy a warm embrace. The hug felt comforting, wrapping around them like a soft blanket, and for a fleeting moment, everything seemed right with the world. Once they returned to their respective sleeping bags, Willow closed her eyes, hoping for peaceful sleep.

The campsite fell into silence for a brief moment, the only sound the gentle rustling of leaves in the evening breeze, before Poppy’s voice broke through the quiet with a soft melody. “ Stars shining bright above you… ” she sang, her tone delicate and inviting.

“Really?” Branch interjected, his voice rising in irritation as he rolled over to give her a sharp look. “Seriously? More singing?”

“Yes, seriously!” Poppy shot back, her frustration bubbling over. “Singing helps me relax.” She tugged her sleeping bag closer around her and shot him a challenging glance. “Maybe you ought to try it.”

“I don’t sing, and I don’t relax,” Branch retorted, maintaining his position. “This is just how I am, and I like it that way. I also prefer a little silence.” He flopped back down, flinging his blanket over him with a dramatic sigh.

Willow rolled her eyes, fully aware that this was an all-too-familiar argument. If it wasn’t an attempt at silence, it was the banter and bickering between them. She briefly considered whether silence would be preferable when, suddenly, the gentle strumming of a ukulele cut through the air, drawing her attention back to Poppy, who stood grinning in front of her brother, ready to strum away into the night.

(Poppy)

Hello Darkness, my old friend

I've come to talk with you again

The flowers and creatures around them started to join. Willow stared, confused. "What is happening?" She muttered to herself, slightly annoyed. It was late, and she was tired.

(Poppy)

Because a vision softly creeping

Left its seeds while I was sleeping

And the  Vision,  that was planted in my brain

Still remains

Within the sound

of silence

Willow watched with a mix of amusement and exasperation as Branch rose to his feet when the last notes of the song faded away. A broad smile spread across his face as he held out his hands, eagerly asking for the ukulele. Poppy, always supportive of her friends, beamed at him and readily handed over the instrument. But in a surprising twist, Branch suddenly hurled the ukulele into the crackling fire, the instrument disappearing into the flames with a dramatic whoosh.

Poppy's expression shifted from joy to shock, her mouth opening to protest, but before she could speak, Willow let out a frustrated groan. "That's it!" she exclaimed, frustration radiating from her posture as she stood up, her arms crossed firmly across her chest. The late hour and the weight of their upcoming mission hung heavily in the air. "It's getting late, and we have to get up early in the morning. So for the rest of the night, I do not want to hear any more singing, arguing, or snide comments about friends getting eaten."

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady herself. When she reopened them, her gaze softened as she looked at her friend and brother. With a playful smile, she added, "If I hear any more bickering before we save our friends, I will tie your hair together. Is that understood?"

Both Poppy and Branch nodded, their expressions a mixture of apprehension and amusement, acutely aware that Willow was serious about her threat. Satisfied that her point was made, she returned to her sleeping bag, the earlier tension easing and a genuine smile gracing her features. "Great," she said, settling in. "Goodnight, everyone."

With that, Poppy and Branch exchanged glances, a silent understanding passing between them. They carefully retreated to their own sleeping bags, the warmth of camaraderie replacing the earlier strains, and drifted off to sleep, the sounds of the crackling fire lulling them into a restful night.

Chapter Text

"S o, one of these tunnels must lead to the Troll Tree, " Poppy guessed, her eyes darting between the dimly lit passages as they ventured deeper into the labyrinth. The air was cool and carried a hint of damp earth, making her shiver slightly.

" T hat's right, " Branch confirmed, his brow furrowed in concentration as they continued walking. As the shadows danced around them, the walls of the tunnels seemed to whisper secrets, adding to Poppy's unease.

"T here are so many, " Poppy exclaimed, a mix of surprise and anxiety in her voice. She hadn’t anticipated such an overwhelming network of tunnels when they first set out.

"I don’t remember there being this many tunnels when we left, Branch," Willow added nervously, her eyes wide as she scanned their surroundings. "How are we going to pick the right one?"

"I don’t know," Branch admitted, kneeling down to scoop up a handful of dirt from one of the tunnel floors, his fingers sifting through the granules in frustration.

Suddenly, a deep voice boomed through the tunnels, making the trio jump. " Choose a hole wisely! " it warned ominously. They all turned to look around, hearts racing. " For one will lead to Bergen Town, and the others will lead to certain death ."

"W ho said that? " Branch demanded angrily, scanning the shadows for the source of the voice. He instinctively positioned himself in front of his sister and Poppy, ready to protect them.

Just then, a cloud of mist materialized beside a twisted tree, breaking into an almost mischievous grin. "It was me!" the cloud announced cheerfully, floating down from the tree’s branches. "Hey, guys, how's it going?" His lighthearted tone seemed oddly out of place in the foreboding atmosphere. "Welcome to the root tunnels! Uh, I just wanted to warn you: one of these tunnels leads to the Troll Tree, and the others? Well, let's just say they lead to certain death, death, death!" The last repetition hung in the air like a haunting echo.

Willow tilted her head in confusion, considering the cloud's whimsical demeanor. " What a weird dude you are, " she remarked, brow raised skeptically.

"Do you think you can tell us which is the right one?" Poppy asked, her curiosity piqued despite her earlier apprehension.

"Y ou bet! " the cloud exclaimed, grinning brightly and pointing a fluffy tendril toward Poppy.

"G reat! " Poppy's face lit up with enthusiasm, but before she could take a step forward, Branch abruptly moved to place his arm protectively in front of her.

" T hat’s okay. We're fine, thanks, " Branch insisted firmly, gently pushing Poppy and Willow further from the strange cloud. His instincts screamed danger.

"B ranch, " Poppy chuckled nervously, her brow furrowing as she looked at him. " He’s trying to help us ."

"I don’t like the looks of him," Branch retorted, narrowing his eyes at the cloud. "I mean, who wears socks with no shoes?" His tone was half-joking but largely serious, reflecting his protective nature.

" T his coming from someone who doesn't like to wear either, " Willow interjected, crossing her arms with an amused yet serious glance at her brother. Ignoring the fact that they weren’t wearing shoes either, she added, " He's not wrong, Poppy. It’s probably not a good idea to trust random strangers. We don't know if he really wants to help us. " The cloud noticed their scrutiny and waved cheerfully, undeterred.

"H e seems to know what he's talking about, " Poppy persisted, her tone lingering between belief and doubt.

Branch sighed heavily, his annoyance palpable. After a moment's hesitation , he turned back to the cloud, throwing caution to the wind. " Okay, fine. Which way do we go ?"

"F irst, you have to give me a high five, " the cloud said with a playful grin, lifting his fluffy hand high in the air .

Willow narrowed her eyes, clearly skeptical. " You’ve gotta be kidding me, " she retorted, raising an eyebrow in disbelief.

“O h! I love high fives! ” Poppy exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she bounded forward, her hand already reaching out in anticipation. " I'll do it !"

“I knew you'd jump at the chance, ” the cloud chuckled, pointing at Poppy with a finger that glimmered like sunlight filtering through clouds. He then turned to Willow, gesturing toward her. “ I’m even pretty sure she’ll join in ."

Willow crossed her arms over her chest, a frown settling on her face as her suspicion deepened. “ But what about him? ” The cloud’s finger shifted to Branch, who stood off to the side, looking decidedly unimpressed.

“A ll right, dumpy diapers, up high! ” the cloud called out, his tone teasing.

Branch, his arms firmly crossed, shook his head. “ I don’t do high fives .”

“C ome on, slap it, boss, ” the cloud urged, bouncing slightly on his fluffy feet.

“N ot gonna happen, ” Branch replied defiantly, his expression set in stone.

With a groan of frustration, Willow turned away and ambled toward the looming tunnels that stretched ahead, anxiety creeping into her thoughts. " I wonder if I can just climb this and avoid the tunnels altogether, " she muttered to herself , casting a doubtful glance back at her brother, who was still locked in a battle of wills with the cloud.

“B ranch, it’s just a high five, ” Poppy said, exasperation pouring from her voice. “ The alternatives lead to certain death! Can’t you get some perspective ?”

Willow pivoted, arms still crossed, and suggested, " I say we scale the side and steer clear of both the tunnels and the cloud entirely. " She frowned, surveying the rocky wall before them. " But I’m not sure how we’re going to get up there ."

With a resigned sigh, Branch finally relented, " One high five , and then you’ll tell us which tunnel to take, right ?”

"S o easy, " the cloud replied, his voice dripping with enthusiasm .

"O kay, fine! " Branch groaned reluctantly as he approached the cloud, extending his hand slowly for the high five. Just as their hands were about to meet, the cloud pulled his hand away at the last second.

“O ops, too slow! ” The cloud laughed, his laughter echoing like joyful raindrops in the air.

“T oo slow? ” Branch retorted, irritation creeping into his tone.

Poppy couldn’t help but chuckle, her amusement palpable. " Classic ."

“N o, no, ” the cloud continued, still giggling. “ Let’s change it up! I’m going to let you slide with a fist bump instead. ” Branch raised his fist in response, already feeling a mixture of relief and annoyance. But just as he was about to make contact, the cloud playfully dodged again, his laughter filling the space between them.

Then, the cloud began to weave his hands around Branch's fist, making whimsical shapes as he went. “ How about a shark attack? Nom-nom-nom-nom! Jellyfish! Hand sandwich. Turkey. Snowman. Dolphin !”

Willow, observing the scene unfold, began to edge away, pulling Poppy with her. “ Maybe we should get out of the way, ” she whispered, eyeing her brother as frustration simmered in his features.

“H elicopter! Last Supper! Monkey in a zoo! ” the cloud continued, wildly gesturing, inadvertently heightening Branch's irritation. With one final flourish, he grabbed hold of Branch's fist. “ Gear shift! ”

At last, when he finally released Branch, the air filled with laughter—Poppy and the cloud were in fits of giggles , while Branch glared at Poppy, who quickly stifled her chuckles, sensing his growing irritation.

“O kay , okay , okay! ” the cloud managed between breaths, calming down a bit. “ Now I’m thinking we should hug !”

That was the last thing Branch could take because he reached down, grabbed a stick, and snapped it in half. The cloud thundered and started raining before running from Branch. " That's right, " Branch said, running after the cloud with Poppy chasing him. " You better run, Cloud !"

Poppy and Willow ran after Branch as he chased the cloud through one of the tunnels. "I'm gonna tear your little cloud arms, off your cloud body, and high-five your face with them!"

Willow looked around at the tunnel, curious. " Are we going through the right tunnel? " she asked  herself  as they ran. She scoffed. " Of course, the cloud was messing with Branch ."

" H e's just a cloud! " Poppy yelled as they raced through the tunnel. " Run  Cloud  Guy! " She cried as the four of them raced through the tunnel, Branch threatening to Kill the cloud as they did.

"T a-da! " Could Guy said, stopping. " We're here! " Poppy and Branch stopped, surprised. " Whew! " Cloud Guy walked over and grabbed the stick from Branch's hand. " You guys are a lot of fun. You know, I gotta go. Got some cloud stuff to take care of. Catch you on the way back? Unless you die! " He sank back into the tunnel.

Poppy and Branch looked around them. " The Troll Tree, " Poppy  said  amazed.

" W e're back in Bergen Town, " Willow  said,  nervously. " Yay. " She looked around at the seemingly dead tree. " It feels so weird being back here ."

The trio of Trolls walked over to the edge of the tree so they could see the Bergens.

(Bergens)

I  ain't  happy, I'm feeling glad

I got  sunshine,  in a bag

I'm useless, but not for long

The future is coming on

I  ain't  happy, I'm feeling glad

I got  sunshine,  in a bag

I'm useless, but not for long

The future is coming on

Is coming on, is coming on

"W ow, " Poppy exclaimed, her eyes wide with astonishment. " They're as miserable as you are. " She cast a sideways glance at Branch, who looked back at her with a hint of indignation. " Which means they haven't eaten a Troll yet, " she added, her expression shifting to one of concern.

Willow's face relaxed, relief washing over her. " Thank goodness this wasn't a waste of time, " she muttered under her breath, a slight smile creeping onto her lips.

Poppy's grin widened as she turned to Willow, her enthusiasm contagious. " Now, come on! We need to go save our friends! " She couldn’t suppress the urgency in her voice, her determination evident.

"Y our friends, " Branch quipped as they began to walk, his tone teasing but light.

"O ur friends, " Poppy corrected him firmly, her eyes sparkling with resolve. " Don't fight it ."

As they ventured deeper into the castle, it became clear that staying out of sight had been easier than expected. Finding their friends, however, was proving to be a different challenge altogether. The trio ducked behind a wall sconce, where Poppy cleverly disguised her vibrant hair to appear as dancing flames, effectively camouflaging them from the patrolling guards. As the guards shifted their positions, the trio seized the opportunity, using their long hair to swing gracefully across the grand hall toward an imposing door.

"S o, where do you think our friends are being kept? " Poppy asked, trying to keep the mood light despite the tension thick in the air.

"I f I had to guess, " Branch said, pausing momentarily to study a large, framed painting that depicted a grand celebration known as Trollstice, " I'd say they’re all packed snugly in a Bergen's stomach ."

Willow's face paled at the thought, and she flinched visibly. " Branch, can you please stop talking about them getting eaten? " she begged, distress etched in her features. " I really can't handle it anymore ."

"Y our sister's right, " Poppy chimed in , giving Willow an encouraging nod. " Could you try to be a little positive for once? I think you might actually enjoy it ."

Branch glanced at his sister, a reluctant grimace tugging at his lips. Right, they were her friends too. " Okay, " he finally said, turning to Poppy with a mock-serious expression. " I'm sure they're not only alive but probably about to be served up to us on a silver platter ."

Poppy sighed with relief at his improved attitude while Willow grimaced, aware of the sarcasm woven into his words. " Thank you, " Poppy said gratefully, her smile returning. " That wasn’t so hard, was it ?"

Branch looked as if he was about to respond when suddenly, Poppy's hug time bracelet began to vibrate and beep, catching her completely off guard. She gasped in surprise, her eyes widening. "Branch!" she exclaimed, scanning the area frantically.

"H ug time? " Branch replied, incredulous, raising an eyebrow. " Seriously? " His skepticism hung in the air, but before he could elaborate, Poppy shushed him urgently, her focus shifting back to their mission.

The trio listened before they heard all of the hug time bracelets go off. They went into the ceiling to see if they could enter the next room without being spotted. They landed on a chandelier in the room without any issue.

"B ranch, look! " Poppy pointed to the cage the chef had rolling around beside her. There were the Trolls they were looking for.

" T hey're alive? " Branch asked, surprised.

"A nd on a silver platter, too, " Poppy said when they hid behind the chandelier. " We were both right ."

"A nd to mark the occasion, " they heard the chef say. " Your Highness, look. " She pulled out a bib. " I found your old Troll bib ."

"O h, wow! " The King said, excited. " I bet you still fit. " He tried it  only  for it to break apart. Willow snickered at the king's misfortune, being careful to not be heard. Unfortunately, Cooper didn't have that luxury and burst into laughter before the other Trolls could silence him.

The king stormed over to the cage. "Oh, you think that's funny?" He asked, angrily. "Well, we'll see who's laughing when I bite your yummy head off. When I bit all y'alls yummy heads off." He looked around and counted the Trolls. "Wait a minute. Chef, this isn't enough yummy heads to feed all of Bergen Town. How are we supposed to have Trollstice if there's not enough Trolls?"

"O h, there's plenty more where that came from, sire, " Chef assured.

Branch and Poppy gasped in concern. Willow placed her hands on their shoulders. " Don't worry, " She assured them. " The bunker is well hidden. They won't be able to find it. " The two nodded and looked back to the conversation between the King and Chef.

"A re you sure? " The King asked. " Because I promised everyone a Troll ."

"N o, no, no, sire! " The Chef said  grabbing  the King's shoulders. " Everything will be fine.  If I were truly worried ,  would I be willing to do this? "   She opened the cage and pulled out a Troll.

"C reek! " Poppy cried before Branch pulled her back. Willow hid inside the chandelier before they could be spotted by the Chef . The trio watched in horror as the King was about to eat Creek before he changed his mind and suggested waiting for Trollstice.

"S ire, " Chef smiled. " every day is Trollstice when you have Trolls. " She put Creek in what looked like a taco and tried to get the King to eat it.

The King picked up the Creek taco and smiled. " Yeah, I guess. " He was about to put the taco in his mouth when he paused again . " But my dad said the first time should be special ."

Willow groaned quietly. " I wish he would get it over with, " she whispered. " This is torture ."

" T hat's horrible! " Poppy whispered harshly. " We don't want Creek eaten ."

" W ell obviously, " Willow argued back. " But the constant wondering is driving me crazy ."

Chef grunted irritated . " Just eat it! " She pushed Creek into the King's mouth.

"N ever mind, " Willow said, looking like she was going to be sick. " This is much worse ."

" I dget , " The Chef said as she walked the King out of the room. " Lock these Trolls in your room and guard them with your life. " She threw the spoon she had and it hit the young girl in the head.

The girl straightened up. " Yes, Chef ."

"B ranch, we have to save him! " Poppy said, ready to jump off the chandelier.

"S ave him from what? " Branch asked, pulling her back. " His stomach ?"

"W e didn't see him chew, " Poppy insisted. " We didn't see him swallow !"

"Face it, Poppy. Sometimes people go into other people's mouths, and they don't come out." Branch didn't notice, but his comments were making things more difficult for Willow. She hated Creek, but she didn't want him to get eaten. "If we go after Creek now, we're going to get eaten. I'm sorry, but it's too late for him."

Willow stood up, nausea passing. " We can't do anything for him, Poppy. " She held her friend's hand. " The best thing we can do is focus on the friends we know are alive. " She looked at the Bergen girl. " That means we need to follow her ."

Poppy turned her gaze in the direction where Willow was pointing, excitement sparking in her eyes. With a determined nod, she sprang off the ornate chandelier, expertly navigated down a slender ladder, and landed atop a gleaming spoon. The spoon served as her makeshift slide, guiding her swiftly down the intricate folds of the tablecloth until she finally touched down gently on the Bergen girl's apron.

Branch furrowed his brow, a mixture of concern and frustration evident on his face as he watched his sister take risks. Sizing up their surroundings, he and Willow took a daring leap from the elevated vantage point of the chandelier, landing deftly on the brim of a guard's hat below. The hats provided a cushioned landing as they maneuvered through the air, bouncing from one to the next until they reached the apron, where Poppy was perched.

Poppy’s position on the apron felt precarious, yet exhilarating, especially knowing they weren’t detected by the giant below . Branch touched down beside her on the taut bowstring, the vivid fabric contrasting against his fur. As he steadied himself, he noticed Willow hovering just above the center of the bow. Suddenly, she slipped, eyes wide with surprise, but managed to seize the knot tightly, preventing a tumble into the unthinkable depths below. She exhaled sharply in relief, thankful the Bergen girl remained blissfully unaware of her tiny presence.

Branch exhaled a frustrated groan, tearing his gaze from the unraveling chaos of their situation to focus on his sister, who had taken the lead. " You just had to suggest we follow her, didn’t you? " His voice held an edge of playful chastisement as he regarded Willow’s pale expression. " You okay ?"

Willow, gripping the knot with all her might, nodded with a forced smile, trying to disguise the apprehension churning in her stomach. " I just gotta concentrate on not falling, " she replied, her voice a mix of determination and anxiety.

The trio settled into an uneasy silence for the rest of their precarious ride. Each heart raced with uncertainty, the question hanging heavily in the air: where were they headed next, and how on earth would they rescue their friends from this bewildering situation?

Chapter Text

As it turned out, the young Bergen resided in what most would describe as a dreary basement or dungeon-like chamber, the kind where shadows lingered and sunlight rarely penetrated. The dimly lit room had a damp, musty smell, filled with the echoes of distant clanking and bustling above.

The trio jumped off the last few stairs and landed quietly on the cold, stone floor, careful not to make a sound. They quickly sought refuge behind an old, rusty wheel, its surface covered in years of dust. From their hidden vantage point, they observed the girl, clad in ragged clothes, as she struggled to manage a daunting pile of soiled dishes and utensils.

“Scullery maid!” the kitchen's gruff chef bellowed, his voice booming like thunder in the cramped space. His shout was followed by a barrage of pots and pans that clattered to the floor around her, each one a reminder of her lowly status. “Wash these for Trollstice! The king’s inviting everyone—except you!”

With each cruel word, the girl’s face fell further into despair. A particularly heavy spoon struck her head, and tears began to spill from her eyes, glistening in the faint light. Willow peeked cautiously out from behind the wheel, her heart aching for the girl, while Poppy—a little more fearless—took a step forward, unsure of what to do to help.

Overwhelmed by emotion, the girl fled to her small, unkempt bed, her sobs echoing in the otherwise silent room. After a moment, the sound of her crying softened, replaced by a heavy silence that spoke volumes of her loneliness. Slowly, she turned and lifted a faded curtain draped over a makeshift table. With trembling hands, she revealed a tattered magazine, its cover adorned with the king's proud visage, a stark contrast to her own grim surroundings. It captured the essence of a world she could only dream of being part of—a world that felt impossibly far away.

(Bridget)

I've been alone with you inside my mind

And in my dreams, I've kissed your lips

A thousand time

I sometimes see you pass outside my door

Hello

Is it me you're looking for?

I can see it in your eyes

I can see it in your smile

Bridget started washing the dishes. She hugged one close to her.

(Bridget)

You're all I ever wanted

And my arms are open wide

'Cause you know just what to say

And you know just what to do

And I want to tell you so much

I love you

Bridget burst into tears at the conclusion of her heartfelt song, her emotions spilling over before she quickly succumbed to a deep sleep. The room was filled with an air of somberness as the last notes faded away.

“Oh,” Poppy said, placing a hand dramatically on her chest, her wide eyes filled with realization. “She’s in love with the king.”

“What are you talking about?” Branch replied, annoyance etched on his face, skepticism bubbling beneath the surface. “Bergens don’t have feelings.” His voice was firm, as if to convince himself as much as anyone else.

“I don’t know,” Willow chimed in slowly, glancing from Bridget to the others. “Look at her. She seems so sad. And you can’t tell me that wasn’t a love song she just sang.” Willow’s brow furrowed in concern, feeling the weight of Bridget’s sorrow.

“Yeah,” Poppy agreed, her voice rising with enthusiasm. “Maybe you don’t know everything there is to know about Bergens.” She gestured assertively, her arm slicing through the air. “Now let’s go!”

The trio of Trolls sprang into action, dashing toward the cage that held their friends captive. With a mix of urgency and hope, they scrambled up to the metal structure. Branch pulled back the curtain, revealing familiar faces illuminated by the fading light.

“Guys!” Poppy exclaimed, her voice a melodious blend of excitement and relief.

“Poppy!” their friends shouted in unison, their voices echoing through the dim space. They erupted into a cheerful song, “ Celebrate good times, come on! ”

“ It’s a celebration, ” Poppy began to sing, her spirit lifted, but just as she was about to join in the fun, Branch shushed them all with a fierce whisper.

“ There’s a party going on right here, ” The Snack Pack murmured softly to complete the refrain, muffled by the urgency of their situation.

“No!” Branch insisted, his voice low but intense, emphasizing the gravity of their predicament. “There is not a party going on right here.” With a determined motion, he retrieved a pair of scissors from Poppy’s hair, using them to attempt to pick the lock. Poppy watched unimpressed as he presented the bent scissors back to her.

“The sooner we get you guys out of here,” Branch said, his focus unwavering, “the sooner we can save Creek!” Poppy's eyes sparkled with excitement at the thought of their next mission.

Willow approached the cage, her heart swelling with joy as the door creaked open. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you all,” she said, her voice filled with warmth. But her moment of relief was short-lived as a sudden shout from Branch interrupted the serene scene, nearly waking the Bergen from their slumber.

When silence returned and the Bergen drifted back to sleep, Willow turned to Poppy, her expression a mix of disbelief and concern. “Poppy, are you insane?” she asked incredulously, her eyes wide as she contemplated the recklessness of their situation.

"I know you're looking for cupcakes and rainbows here," Branch said. "But let's face it, Creek's been eaten."

"They put him in a taco," Biggie said, walking out.

"It was horrible," Cooper said.

"Sorry, Poppy," Guy Diamond placed his hand on Poppy's  "Creek's  gone."

"Poppy, how could you possibly think Creek's still alive?" Branch asked.

"I don't think he's alive," Poppy insisted. "I hope he's alive, and that's enough."

"Why do you always have to look on the bright side?" Branch asked  annoyed  . "There is no bright side here. None!"

"There is always a bright side," Poppy insisted. Willow rolled her eyes at the argument and was about to  walk away  when a light turned on.

"Hey!" The Bergen shouted. "Where do you think you're going?" The Trolls screamed and started to run. Guy Diamond ran up and launched glitter into the girl's face before he also ran out. "No!" The girl yelled. "Get back in your cage! Chef's gonna be so mad!"

Branch grabbed a fork and prepared to fight her while the girl grabbed a cooking pan. "Bridget, stop!" Poppy yelled.

Willow stood frozen in place, her brow furrowed in confusion as she took in the scene before her. Poppy, her vibrant friend, stood boldly in front of an enormous pink curtain, an air of determination radiating from her. "You're in love with King Gristle," Poppy exclaimed, her voice ringing with both certainty and excitement.

Beside them, the newly named Bridget gasped, her eyes widening in disbelief. She instinctively clutched the iron pan she had been carrying, as if it could shield her from the weight of the revelation. "Um, I don't know what you're talking about," she stammered, glancing between Poppy and the mysterious curtain.

With a knowing look, Poppy pulled the curtain aside, revealing an astonishing shrine dedicated to the Bergen King. Adorned with shimmering gems and opulent decorations, the space was a true testament to Bridget’s hidden affections.

Willow walked over to Branch, her brother, her surprise evident as she whispered under her breath, "She might be a little more than in love." Her eyes darted back to Bridget, who appeared both flustered and entranced by the shrine.

"I'll say," Branch scoffed, crossing his arms with a smirk. He leaned closer, incredulous as he observed the setup. "This is way more than a simple crush." The atmosphere was charged with a mix of humor and astonishment, as they processed the unexpected depth of Bridget's feelings for the enigmatic King Gristle.

"Excuse me!" Bridget panicked and pulled the curtain closed. "That's not mine." Poppy pulled the curtain open to show a picture with Bridget and King Gristle's pictures taped to it. Bridget sighed in defeat. "What does it matter?" She asked. "It's not like he even knows I'm alive."

"Bridget," Poppy smiled. "I can help you! What if there was a way we could both get what we want?"

"You love Gristly, too?" Bridget asked, surprised. She stepped back. "You'd better back off, girlfriend!" She hissed a little.

Willow laughed and looked at her brother. "I can't believe I was ever scared of her," She  said,   as she walked  over to Bridget.

"No. Bridget, no," Poppy assured. "That Troll King Gristle put in his mouth, that's Creek." She pulled a picture out of her hair. "And I would do anything to save him. The only problem  is,  we can't get anywhere near the king without him eating us.  But,  you can. You can walk right up to him and tell him how you feel."

"As if," Bridget denied. "I can't just walk right up to the king. His Royal Awesomeness would never talk to a scullery maid like me."

"Not with that  attitude  he won't," Willow snorted, climbing up to where Poppy was.

Poppy elbowed her friend. "What if he didn't know you were a scullery maid? What if he thought you were this total babe?"

"What kind of total babe would be dressed like a scullery maid?" Bridget asked, holding her clothes. "I smell like gravy."

"What if we made you a new outfit?" Satin suggested, smiling. Chenille grinned. "I'm thinking, jumpsuit!"

"What's the point of a jumping suit if I still have this hair?" Bridget asked.

"Oh, we can fix that," Poppy promised.

"What's the point of a new outfit and new  hair,  if I don't even know what a total babe would ever say?" Bridget was not convinced the plan Poppy was coming up with would work.

"We can help with that too," Poppy grinned when Bridget leaned forward, suddenly excited. "What do you say, Bridget?  You get  us Creek, and we'll get you a date with the king."

"Let's do it?" Bridget said after a moment to think. Poppy grinned widely and started a count off for the rest of the Trolls to start singing.

(Snack Pack)

When you look in the mirror

Let it disappear

All your insecurities

"Wait!" Bridget exclaimed, her voice echoing off the walls as she gestured insistently toward Branch and Willow. "Why aren’t these two singing?"

Willow flashed a playful grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Sorry, I don’t sing unless he does," she said, casually pointing at her brother. "We’re kind of a package deal."

"Come on, Branch," Copper chimed in as Branch leaned against a wall, his posture rigid. "Sing with us."

"Yeah, Branch, sing with us!" the rest of the group encouraged, their voices blending into a chorus of hopeful entreaties.

"Oh, no," Branch replied, shaking his head and moving toward the edge of the gathering. "That’s okay. I really don’t sing."

"You don’t think this will work?" Bridget asked, her face falling as her enthusiasm waned. A sad frown creased her brow.

"Oh, no, no," Branch assured her quickly, sensing her disappointment. "It’s not that. I just... I just don’t sing."

"Branch!" Poppy exclaimed, frustration creeping into her tone.

"No," Bridget said, her voice trembling with despair. "He’s right. This idea is stupid." With that, she flopped back dramatically onto her bed, tears pooling in her eyes as she began to cry softly into her pillow. "King Gristle will never love me."

Willow rolled her eyes, crossing her arms as she settled down beside Bridget. "This girl needs a serious confidence boost," she muttered under her breath, glancing at Branch, who was now scaling the curtain with surprising agility.

"Branch, what are you doing?" Poppy called, her voice laced with urgency. "You have to sing!"

Willow sighed deeply, shaking her head as she stood up to follow the two of them. "I told you," Branch said, annoyance creeping into his voice. "I don’t sing."

"Well, you have to!" Poppy insisted, her tone growing more desperate.

"I’m sorry, I can't, " Branch replied, turning his gaze toward the window, his expression pensive. He reached up to grasp the window latch, trying to open it.

"No, you can," Poppy argued, her voice firm. "You just won’t."

"Fine," Branch said, a hint of defiance in his tone. "I just won’t."

"You have to," Poppy reiterated, her determination unwavering.

Willow positioned herself next to Branch, her expression protective as she looked at Poppy. "Drop it, Poppy. He doesn’t have to sing, and you need to stop pressuring him."

Poppy groaned in frustration, her hands on her hips. "Why not? Why won’t he sing?"

"Because singing killed my grandma, okay?" Branch snapped, his voice sharp and laden with emotion. He turned back to the window, a whirlwind of thoughts churning in his mind as Willow settled beside him, visibly weary.

"Now, leave me alone," he said, his tone softening as he positioned himself next to his sister, allowing her to rest her head on his shoulder in a moment of quiet comfort.

Hesitant but resolute, Poppy approached the two of them. "How did singing kill your grandma?" she asked, her curiosity tinged with concern. "What song was she singing?"

Branch’s expression shifted, the light in his eyes dimming as memories flooded back. "I was the one singing," he murmured, his voice hollow. He stared off into space, momentarily lost in the recollection. "That day, I was so caught up in the song that I didn’t hear my grandma trying to warn me." He stood up, his posture reflecting a heaviness that matched the weight of his memories. As he gazed out the window, the world beyond blurred, and he was thrust back to that fateful day.

(Snack Pack)

Once upon a time

There was a light in his life

But now there's only love in the dark

Nothing he can say

(Bridget)

A total eclipse of the heart

Willow tightened her grip on Branch's arm, her eyes filled with concern. "I was in our pod, fast asleep when it all happened, and when I woke up, I found him alone at the base of the tree," she explained, her voice trembling slightly.

Branch sighed heavily and turned his gaze away from the window, where a few playful rays of sunlight danced. "Since that day, I haven't sung a single note," he admitted, a shadow of sadness crossing his features.

"I'm so sorry, Branch," Poppy chimed in, her voice laced with genuine remorse. "I had no idea. I just assumed you had a terrible voice." Willow couldn't help but snicker at the notion. Her brother, with his incredible talent, was in two boy bands, for hair's sake.

"No, no, it was like an angel's," Branch clarified, a hint of nostalgia creeping into his tone. "That's what Grandma always said, at least." Poppy's face brightened, and without hesitation, she rushed over to hug the siblings tightly.

"Whoa, wait a second! What’s going on here?" Branch protested, half-heartedly pushing against the embrace. "It’s not hug time."

"I know," Poppy said gently, "but you just seemed like you needed one." As if on cue, the rest of the Snack Pack joined in, and Willow felt the warmth of friendship envelop her as she relaxed into the hug. She had missed these moments of closeness with her friends.

Branch groaned as Bridget joined the group hug, feeling the weight of the moment press down on him. "Okay, okay! I’ll help," he exclaimed, maneuvering out of the friendly entanglement with a playful warning finger raised. "But I'm still not singing, just so we're clear."

Poppy’s expression brightened with understanding. "Alright, people! Hair we go!" she declared excitedly. The group sprang into action, leaping onto Bridget's vibrant hair. With a burst of energy, they began to sing, their voices intertwining in a joyful harmony that filled the air. As they sang, their hair transformed, shimmering into a cascade of rainbow colors that enveloped Bridget's head.

Willow settled down next to Branch, a concerned look etched on her face. "Are you really okay?" she asked softly, her voice barely audible over the cheerful music. "We haven't had a chance to talk about what happened since we left the Tree."

Branch allowed the lively music to fade into the background as he sighed again, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, I’ll be alright," he finally replied, casting a sideways glance at her. "But what about you? Are you going to be okay?" He gestured toward her hair, a brilliant display that served as part of their disguise. "You could be out there dancing and singing with them, especially since you’re helping with all this."

Willow snorted softly, glancing at her colorful hair as if it were the most mundane thing in the world. "What, this?" she said with a playful roll of her eyes. "I just thought it would be nice to help." Her tone shifted as she pulled her knees to her chest, a sigh escaping her lips. "Honestly, I don’t feel like singing right now, you know?" She offered her brother a warm smile, her eyes reflecting a quiet strength. "I’d much rather spend this time with you."

Branch returned her smile, a flicker of warmth in his eyes until a wave of realization washed over him as the song began to draw to a close. "We’re probably getting close to the king," he murmured, scanning the horizon for signs of their destination.

Willow stood up, brushing off her clothes as a pensive look crossed her face. "Let’s just hope Poppy’s plan works," she whispered to Branch, her voice a mix of hope and apprehension. "Otherwise, we might end up as Bergen chow."

Chapter Text

Willow began to feel a gnawing doubt about their plan when she noticed Bridget's eyes widen in panic just before stepping into the bib store. Her earlier confidence in Poppy's scheme slipped away entirely when she overheard Poppy suggest that Bridget tell the King he looked fat. Even though Poppy quickly corrected herself, adding that she meant "P-H phat," it did little to quell Willow's disbelief.
"Of all the words you could have used, you went with phat?" Willow whispered, incredulous, her brows furrowing as she struggled to understand Poppy's penchant for questionable choices.
"What would you have suggested?" Poppy shot back, her annoyance bubbling to the surface.
Willow crossed her arms defensively and began ticking alternatives on her fingers. "Anything! Amazing, sublime, attractive—royal would have even worked," she exclaimed, rolling her eyes dramatically. "But no, you just had to use phat, didn't you?"
Poppy's expression softened a touch as she smiled sheepishly. "Alright, those could have worked, too." She gestured toward the window, where they could just glimpse Bridget and the King sharing a laugh outside the hair disguise. "But look, it worked! Bridget and the King are going on their date now."
Willow sighed heavily, resigned that Poppy might have been right this time. "Fine," she admitted grudgingly. "But you have to realize, these guys don't flirt and banter like we do. Have you considered the possibility that she could accidentally insult him?" She narrowed her eyes, adding a hint of seriousness to the conversation. "And let's be honest, you don't know how to flirt to save our lives."
Branch, who had been quietly observing their exchange, snorted with skepticism. "What, and you do?" He raised an eyebrow, half-challenging her. When Willow didn't respond right away, he glanced up in surprise. "Wait, Willow? You know how to flirt?"
A smirk danced across Willow's lips as she turned to her brother, mischief sparkling in her eyes. "Don't worry about it." Truthfully, she hadn't the slightest clue how to flirt. Still, she relished the opportunity to tease her brother and let him remain blissfully unaware. However, she did possess a knack for complimenting people, and she figured that was close enough to keep the playful façade going. After all, maintaining a sense of humor might be their best fallback in this moment of uncertainty.
Willow leaned closer, her eyes sparkling with encouragement as she brought her face next to Bridget's. "Remember, while you're on this date, he's not a king, and you're not just a scullery maid. You are a beautiful, attractive woman, and he's simply a guy you like. Just keep that in mind." She gently patted the girl's forehead, a gesture to instill confidence. "You can do this."
Feeling a surge of determination, Bridget smiled and straightened her posture as if she had just been given a magical charm. "I can do this," she echoed, glancing at the King with renewed resolve. "Thanks, I really needed that."
Willow stepped back to rejoin the group of Trolls, who were observing her with wide eyes, a hint of surprise painted across their faces. "What?" she asked, her voice laced with nervousness. "I mean it. She needs a little confidence boost."
Poppy, ever the supportive friend, smiled brightly. "That was great," she encouraged, her enthusiasm infectious. After contemplating, she added, "You should take the lead and tell Bridget what to say next. You know she could use your guidance." At Willow's uncertain expression, Poppy nodded vigorously, a spark of excitement in her eyes. "You know exactly what to say to her. You've got this."
Branch, standing protectively behind his sister, sighed deeply. "Just give it a shot, sis. You can't possibly do any worse than anyone else has," he remarked, attempting to bolster her spirits.
"Fine," Willow conceded with an exaggerated sigh and walked to the front, steeling herself for the task. She watched Bridget and the King make their way into the restaurant, settling at a table together. "You're doing great, Bridget," she called out, trying to inject warmth into her words.
Bridget's eyes lit up when their pizza finally arrived, as if she had just walked into a treasure trove. "Ooh, this looks so fancy! Good thing I brought my appetite," she exclaimed, reaching eagerly for a slice. Just then, her hand brushed against the King's as they reached for the same piece of pizza. Willow's heart sank with trepidation as she observed Bridget abruptly slap his hand away before diving into her food. Clearly, the long hours of her job as a scullery maid hadn't allowed her much time to eat.
The King chuckled, his grin widening as he looked at her. "You are fantastic!" he declared, clearly charmed by her boldness.
Willow seized the moment, leaning forward with earnest intent. "You should compliment him back now," she suggested, her voice steady despite her racing heart.
Bridget smiled and leaned over the table, a bit too eager. "I like your back," she stated, her voice filled with innocent sincerity.
Poppy groaned and thrust her hands to her temples in exasperation. "No! That's not what we meant!" she said, the panic creeping in. "I mean, you need to say something nice about him!"
"But I do like his back," Bridget replied, her brow furrowing in disbelief. Suddenly, she froze, stammering in confusion as the King looked up from his pizza, a puzzled expression on his face.
"Poppy, help her!" Branch urged, his voice rising in panic.
"Just tell him what you like about his back," Willow reiterated softly, trying to maintain her composure while feeling the situation's urgency. Fear knotted in her stomach as she realized they were dangerously close to being caught in this awkward misunderstanding.
Poppy and the rest of the Snack Pack started tossing out ideas of what she could compliment. Still, it wasn't working since they didn't say a single complimentary thing. When it looked like the King was going to stand up, tired of the possibility of Bridget insulting him, Branch spoke up. "You're eyes. They're like two pools, so deep, I fear if I dive in, I might never come up for air." Willow smiled as she listened to her brother speak. "And your smile. The sun turns jealous and refuses to come out from behind the clouds, knowing it cannot shine half as bright."
The King sat down, suddenly bashful. "I kinda do have a nice smile, don't I?"
"Yes, you do," Bridget said, copying Branch. Branch smiled, looking at Poppy.
Willow sighed and rolled her eyes. "Should have had Branch take over," she muttered, nudging Poppy.
"I can't believe I'm about to say this," Bridget started. Biggie started panicking about her going rogue. "But being here with you today makes me realize that true happiness is possible."
"It is!" King Gristle said, scooting closer to Bridget. "True happiness is a lot closer than you think." He held up the gem on his fur cape.
Bridget was not impressed. "That's pretty, I guess." She gasped in surprise when he opened the gem, and a Troll popped out.
"Creek?" Branch said, surprised. Willow peered out of the hair in shock. He was alive. She sighed in relief. At least he hadn't gotten eaten yet.
"I knew he was alive!" Poppy said, relieved.
"I've been savoring this little guy," Gristle said, holding Creek up. He put Creek away and leaned forward. "Tell me, my lady. Will I be seeing you at the Trollstice feast?"
"Well, duh," Bridget laughed. I'll be working." She perked up. "It," she said, repeating Poppy. She waved her hands in the air. "Working it. You know," she got out of the booth and started dancing, "working it."
King Gristly laughed. "Yeah! You're not kidding; you will." He climbed out of the booth. "Because you're gonna be there as my plus one." He got nervous. "Assuming you'll say yes?"
"Yes!" Bridget grinned.
Willow sat back, a quiet cheer bubbling inside her as relief washed over her. They had successfully set Bridget up for a second date, a little victory worth celebrating. But as the moment sank in, worry crept across her face. "What are we going to do now?" she asked her brother, her voice tinged with apprehension. "There's no way we can put her through this again. And honestly, she won't be confident to go through with the date without us."
Branch frowned, his brow furrowed with concern as he gazed at the two Bergens eagerly heading toward the skating rink. "I really don't know," he admitted, his voice low. "But try not to dwell on it right now. We need to concentrate on the date itself." Willow sighed, recognizing the validity in his words. He was right—they had to focus on the moment, the date unfolding before them.
The scene at the skating rink was lively. The two Bergens gliding and laughing, enjoying the thrill of the experience. Bridget, caught up in the excitement, spun around sharply, sending the Trolls tumbling off her head momentarily. They caught each other mid-air, clinging on tightly, while Bridget twirled Gristle around, giving Poppy a chance to safely return the Trolls to her crown.
Feeling overwhelmed, Willow groaned and plopped down in the midst of the chaos, her heart racing from a mix of excitement and anxiety. "That's enough excitement for me," she muttered, trying to catch her breath. Just then, she caught the Chef's voice cutting through the noise.
"Your Majesty," the Chef said, her tone dripping with feigned sweetness. Willow quickly shuffled forward to the front of Bridget's hair to listen intently. "It seems like you're really enjoying yourself."
"I am!" Gristle replied, his face lighting up with a big smile. "Meet the lovely Lady Glittersparkles." 
The Chef turned her gaze toward Bridget, her expression momentarily thoughtful. "You remind me of someone," she said, a hint of suspicion in her voice. The Trolls shivered, fearing the Chef's menacing stare, but King Gristle soon alleviated some of the tension by smiling widely. "She's going to be my plus one!" 
"Oh, I see," the Chef replied, her hands folding tightly in front of her as if to contain her displeasure. "For a moment, I was worried you were changing the plan." The Bergens erupted in laughter, though Bridget chuckled nervously. "Well, that won't pose a problem, Your Highness. I'll have my useless scullery maid prepare another place setting for the esteemed Lady Glittersparkles."
Sensing the Chef's underlying threat, Willow leaned in, gently patting Bridget on the head. "You need to make a run for it now while you have the chance," she urged, urgency creeping into her voice. Bridget nodded, her eyes wide with determination, and made a break for it—losing one of her roller skates as she rushed down the stairs.
Collapsing into her room, Bridget flopped onto her bed, the adrenaline still pumping through her veins. The Trolls landed gracefully around her, a collective grin adorning their faces. "I really think the king likes us!" exclaimed Cooper, his eyes sparkling excitedly.
"I know, right?" Biggie chimed in, nodding in agreement.
Bridget beamed, overwhelmed with joy. "That was the greatest day of my life!" she declared, rolling over to face the Trolls. "Thank you, Poppy. Thank you all!" Her gaze lingered on Branch, softening just a bit. "Even you, I guess." A fleeting frown crossed Branch's face, taken aback by her casual mention.
"I never thought something like this could happen to me," she continued, her voice filled with awe. "And look, it just did! I'm so excited I could scream." With that, she rolled onto her back and gave a small but giddy shout, barely a whisper.
Poppy, unable to contain her excitement, jumped into the air. "Oh, I could scream too! Creek is alive!" The revelation sparked a wave of cheers from everyone, lifting their spirits momentarily. But the celebration paused abruptly when they all heard Branch let out an unexpected scream. Poppy, her expression shifting from jubilation to concern, turned to him. "Branch, what's wrong?"
"Nothing," he shrugged, attempting to mask his annoyance. "I thought we were celebrating."
Sitting close by, Willow couldn't help but smile as she threw an arm around her brother's shoulders. "That's your happy shout?" Cooper asked, looking distinctly worried.
Branch let his arms drop in resignation. "It's been a while since I've felt this way," he admitted, a hint of frustration in his tone. 
Willow shook her brother's shoulders playfully. "That's the most excited he's been in ages," she teased, her bright smile gleaming. "Looks like we'll have to work on your cheering muscles!" The laughter that followed echoed through the room, wrapping them in a comfortable warmth as they reveled in their shared joy.
"Well, you're gonna have plenty of practice," Poppy said. "Because we're gonna save Creek, and life will be all cupcakes and rainbows again."
Branch grinned and held out his hand. "Up top." He pulled his hand away when Poppy tried to slap his hand. "Too slow."
Poppy grinned. "Okay, everybody! Let's go save Creek." The Trolls started walking off the bed before Bridget closed the door, stopping them.
"You can't leave," Bridget said, desperate. "Lady Glittersparkles is gonna be the king's plus one at dinner."
"The dinner where they're serving Troll?" Branch scoffed. "Yeah, I think we're gonna have to skip that one."
"No!" Bridget denied. "No, you have to help me be Lady Glittersparkles." She fell to the floor. "I need you."
"You don't want to pretend to be someone you're not forever!" Poppy insisted.
"Then how about just for tomorrow?" Bridget tried to bargain.
Willow grimaced, a look of frustration crossing her face. "You had to know we weren't going to be able to join you at the Trollstice feast," she said, glancing at her brother and Poppy, who stood awkwardly nearby. "It wouldn't be right for us to just pretend to be your hair while you all enjoyed a meal from Trolls. Those are our friends."
"Bridget, you don't need us anymore," Poppy said, walking up to Bridget to place a comforting hand on her friend. "You and the king can make each other happy!"
Bridget's eyes widened, her expression filled with disbelief. "That's impossible!" she exclaimed, her voice rising in frustration as she stood up abruptly. "Only eating a Troll can truly make you happy. Everyone knows that!" In despair, she rushed to her bed and grabbed her pillow. "I wish I'd never gone on this stupid date!" Her tone dripped with regret, and Willow felt her heart sink at seeing her friend's distress.
Bridget threw her head back and shouted, "Just go! Get out of my room and leave me alone!" The raw intensity of her words hung heavily in the air, causing Willow and Poppy to exchange worried glances. Sighing in resignation, Willow headed to the door, motioning for the others to follow her as Chef's voice echoed down the hallway, instructing Bridget to prepare an extra place for the King's plus one.
With a mix of trepidation and determination, they made their way to the King's room, where a shimmer of hope lay in retrieving the gem from his bed. As they quietly crawled under the blankets, Poppy's excitement bubbled over. "There it is!" she shouted, pointing at the gem nestled amongst the soft fabric. "Creek! We'll have you out in just a second!"
But as Branch reached for the gem, he pulled hard only to find it stubbornly stuck. "It's stuck," he grunted, frustration etched across his face. Suddenly, a low growl interrupted them, and they turned to see the King's pet gator glaring menacingly from the shadows, its sharp teeth gleaming in the dim light.
"Run!" Poppy screamed, her voice a mix of panic and urgency. The group scrambled in a flurry, dashing from one end of the bed to the other before leaping into the air. They crashed down, shattering a television in a spectacular explosion of glass and plastic. Still, there was no time to process the chaos. Spotting the chandelier, they made a daring leap to escape the gator's snapping jaws before it plummeted down to the floor below.
They bolted for the door in a wild rush, hearts racing, when a deafening crash reverberated through the room. Flames flickered ominously as they made a last-ditch sprint toward the roller skate, which functioned as their makeshift escape route. With one synchronized push, they launched themselves out the door and down the hall, the weight of their terrified consequences urging them forward.
The chaotic descent saw them ejecting from a window, the gem caught in a strange fate as it was swallowed by their escape and then spat back out. They crashed through another window, tumbling down three floors before landing with a hard thud on the floor below. 
Once the dust settled and the adrenaline began to wane, Branch and Poppy frantically opened the gem, their hopes soaring. "Please, let Creek be inside," Poppy whispered, her voice trembling with anxiety.
But as the last remnants of hope dwindled, Willow's heart sank. "Guys," she said nervously, the realization washing over her like a cold wave. "Where is Creek?"
Poppy's face twisted in horror. "No!" she shouted, shaking her head in disbelief. "He can't be gone. He just can't!"
"I'm sorry, Poppy," Branch replied somberly, his tone heavy with regret. "We're too late."
Just then, a sharp voice cut through the air as Chef appeared, a sinister grin spreading across her face. "Actually," she said, lifting a cage above her head, "your timing is perfect." With a swift motion, she slammed the cage down on them, effectively trapping the horrified Trolls inside; their hopes of rescue were instantly extinguished.

Chapter Text

"Sorry, but I can't let you leave before tomorrow's dinner," the chef declared, her voice firm as she set the cage down with a thud on the table. "And it’s a dinner to which you are all invited."

Willow held Branch tightly, their faces a mix of fear and uncertainty, while Biggie couldn’t hold back his tears. “What are we going to do now?” she asked, looking up at Branch, who remained silent, his arms enveloping his sister protectively.

“And when I say all,” the chef continued, an unsettling smile creeping across her face, “I mean every Troll in Troll Village.”

"You'll never find them!" Poppy shouted defiantly, rising to her feet with a fire in her eyes. "Not where they're hiding."

The chef halted mid-stride, her amusement evident. “Oh, you're right, I couldn’t find them,” she replied, slowly turning back towards them. “But I could with someone they know. Someone they trust.” Willow’s brow furrowed in confusion; she couldn’t fathom what the chef was implying. With a swift motion, the chef unzipped the pouch around her waist. “Someone like this guy,” she added, pulling Creek from the depths of the pouch and setting him down on the table with a soft thump.

Poppy and the Snack Pack erupted into cheers at the sight of Creek, breathlessly celebrating his survival. However, Branch and Willow exchanged wary glances, their suspicion sharpening at the sight of the purple Troll. Branch’s eyes widened in realization, his voice rising in anger. “He’s selling us out!” he shouted, instinctively launching his hair towards Creek in an attempt to strangle him.

“Branch!” Poppy exclaimed, her hand resting firmly on his shoulder, urging him to retract his hair. “I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation.” With a deep breath, she made him pull back, hoping for calm in the chaos.

Creek inhaled deeply, rubbing his neck where Branch had almost ensnared him. “Thank you, Poppy,” he said, flashing her a strained smile. He turned to the others, his expression shifting. “I’m selling you out,” he confessed flatly. Willow's eyes widened in surprise as Poppy’s hair flew out and wrapped around Creek's neck.

The Snack Pack, initially jubilant, turned into a flurry of activity, trying to pry Poppy off Creek while Branch and Willow watched amused as their friends struggled against the betrayal they all felt.

With a final determined push, Poppy released Creek. “You better explain yourself, Creek!” she demanded, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and hurt.

Gasping for air, Creek coughed out an explanation. “As I faced what I thought was my end, I experienced what I can only describe as a spiritual awakening.” He laid bare his agreement with the chef to lure the trolls out of hiding in exchange for his own life, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air.

“No!” Poppy cried, her heart breaking at the context. “Creek, please don’t do this!”

“Believe me,” Creek said, stepping closer to Poppy, sincerity etched on his face. “I wish there was some other 'me not getting eaten way' so it wouldn't end up like this.”

“But there isn’t,” the chef interjected with a menacing grin, her knives glinting ominously as she sharpened them, heightening the sense of impending doom.

“And now I have to live with this burden for the rest of my life,” Creek continued, a hint of sadness coloring his voice. “At least you’ll have a clear conscience in death. So, in a way, you could say I’m doing this for you.” With a quick motion, he plucked the cowbell from Poppy’s hair and booped her nose, the gesture a bittersweet reminder of the camaraderie they once shared amidst the looming threat.

Willow snarled and leaped at the cage bars, grabbing Creek's throat with her hair. "You think this is going to save you?" She asked incredulously. She pulled him forward so she could reach him with her hands. "What makes you think the chef won't eat you the second you're not useful anymore?" She shook Creek roughly. "Wake up and smell the coffee! You are expendable to her. You're betraying your whole village and people because of a lie!"

Chef scoffed and looked at the Trolls. She removed Willow's hair from around Creek's throat and moved the Troll to her shoulder. "Not true. I am a Bergen of my word." She grinned and looked at the young glaring Troll at the front of the cage. "I think I'll save you for later," She said, leaning down. "As a treat for becoming Queen and bringing Trollstice back to the Bergens."

Branch snarled and pushed Willow behind him. "You don't touch her!" He warned. The chef looked amused at the warning and lifted the cage. She tilted it to the side, causing the Trolls inside to tumble. Opening the cage, she reached in and grabbed Willow from the pile of Trolls. She closed the cage door before they could right themselves and set the cage back. Branch scrambled to get up and grabbed Willow with his hair. "Don't worry, sis! I got you!" The other Trolls began to help him pull when he started to get dragged along.

The chef rolled her eyes. "Trolls," she muttered, grabbing a pair of scissors. "Always desperate to delay the inevitable." She took the scissors and cut the piece of hair, holding onto Willow, causing the rest of the Trolls to fall backward into the cage.

"Branch!" Willow cried, reaching for her brother as he fell into her friends. She grunted in pain when the chef squeezed her a little too hard.

"Don't you start," the chef warned, walking into what Willow could only guess was her room. She grabbed a glass jar and dropped Willow in it before closing it. She took a drill and put a couple of holes into the top of the jar's lid. Setting her on her dresser, the chef grinned. "Now you stay here so you don't get mixed in with the other Trolls." She stood and started walking to the door. "When I'm queen, you'll be my reward."

Willow snarled and punched at the glass jar holding her. "You try to eat me, I'm going to make sure you choke," She promised. The chef scoffed and closed the door behind her.

Willow sighed and sat down on the bottom of the jar. "Great," she muttered, hugging her knees. "Now, what am I going to do?" She took a deep breath and did the only thing she could think of now. She began to sing.

(Willow)

I guess I have to face, that

in this awful place, I

shouldn't show a trace... of doubt.

But pulled against the grain, I

feel a little pain, that

I would rather do... without.

I'd rather be free-ee-ee, free-ee-ee, free...

I'd rather be free-ee-ee, free-ee-ee, free...

Free-ee-ee, free-ee-ee, free...

from here.

Willow let out a heavy sigh, her heart racing as she stood up within the confines of the glass jar. The smooth surface felt cool against her palms as she pressed her hands against it. "I don’t know what I’m going to do," she muttered under her breath, frustration and fear knotting in her chest. "But I refuse to stay trapped here."  

With a determined tilt of her head, she leaned against the jar, testing its balance. As she pushed with all her might, the jar began to wobble before finally tilting precariously to the side. A grin broke through her worried expression. "Alright, at least I can move this thing," she thought, a flicker of hope igniting within her.

She mustered her strength and maneuvered the jar toward the edge of the table, her heart pounding in her ears as she glanced down at the unfamiliar ground below. The distance seemed daunting, and her stomach churned at the thought of what lay beneath. "This is going to hurt," she grimaced, fear creeping back into her mind, but the thought of remaining encased in glass was far worse.

Taking a deep breath, Willow steeled herself. "Here we go," she declared, her voice steadier than she felt. With a final push, she stepped off the edge, surrendering to gravity as the jar plummeted downward, anticipation and dread swirling within her.

As Willow landed with a thud, the fragile glass jar she was in shattered, scattering shards across the floor like glimmering confetti. She groaned softly, lifting her head off the cool, hard surface. “That was a terrible decision,” she muttered, rubbing her face in an attempt to shake off the dizziness. Wincing, she took a moment to assess her body. “All limbs intact, at least,” she said, relieved, but her relief was short-lived.

As she tried to stand, a sharp pang shot through her side. “And there’s the ribs,” she grimaced, pressing her hand against the tender area. Willow looked up, the dim light from the ceiling fixtures flickering overhead. “I need to get out of here before the chef returns,” she sighed, determination mixing with a hint of panic.

With a blend of caution and urgency, she grabbed her ribs tenderly, then used her hair to stretch towards the light switch high above her. “This is going to take a while,” she acknowledged to herself, leaning against the wall for support as she caught her breath. After a minute, during which she mentally prepared herself for what lay ahead, she finally stood up straight, wincing slightly at the pain still radiating from her side.

“Now, to find my brother,” she declared, steeling her resolve as she started to walk, carefully navigating past the shards of glass and the remnants of her hasty escape. The path ahead was uncertain, but Willow was determined—there was no time to waste.

Chapter Text

By the time Willow managed to navigate through the twists and turns of the castle, she finally located the other Trolls. They were trapped inside a massive pot, the remnants of the village visible in the chaos around them. As she approached, Willow spotted Bridget outside the pot, her ear pressed closely against the surface, listening intently.

"What are you doing?" the chef's voice boomed from behind, startling both Bridget and Willow as he sneaked up behind her. "The king is waiting! Get those Trolls out of there and into the feast!"

"Sorry, Chef," Bridget replied, her eyes darting with nervousness. She nodded quickly, turning on her heel to push the heavy pot down the corridor, sweat beading at her brow from the effort.

"Oh, you’re sorry," the chef scoffed, watching her with a frown as she trudged away. Willow narrowed her eyes, assessing the situation before deciding to follow Bridget once the chef was out of sight.

Using her long, flowing hair like a rope, Willow gracefully landed atop the pot, confronting Bridget with urgency. "Willow!" Bridget gasped, clearly surprised to see her. "What are you doing here? Why aren't you with the others?"

"The chef separated me from the group," Willow explained, clutching her ribs from an earlier escape. As her ear perked up at the sound of a familiar tune, she couldn’t help but smile. "Is that Branch singing?" she asked, her expression brightening.

Just then, Bridget reached up and gently placed Willow on her shoulder, a protective gesture that warmed Willow's heart. "What are you doing, Bridget?" she asked, puzzled.

Without losing focus, Bridget turned the heavy pot toward the grand front doors of the castle. "I can't let you guys be eaten. It's just not right," she declared, determination lacing her words.

Willow smiled widely, feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude as she hugged the Bergen girl tightly. "Thank you, Bridget. You’re such a good friend,” she said, reassured by Bridget's bravery.

Reaching the grand entrance, Bridget pushed open the heavy doors with a forceful shove. Momentarily blinded by the bright daylight, they stepped into the fresh air. Once they were safely outside, Bridget carefully set Willow on the ground and began to work on opening the pot.

Peering into the dark interior with a mix of hope and anxiety, she called out, "Poppy!"

"Bridget?" Poppy's voice chimed back, filled with surprise and alarm. Bridget glanced around nervously, aware that time was of the essence. She reached her hand into the pot, urging Poppy to climb aboard. "What are you doing?" Poppy asked, her voice laced with concern.

"I can't let them eat you!" Bridget insisted, her determination unwavering. "Come on! You’ve got to go!" she urged, her voice rising as Poppy seemed hesitant. With a swift motion, she tilted the pot, freeing the other Trolls one by one. “Hurry! Get out of here!” she urged desperately.

"No!" Poppy exclaimed, shaking her head vigorously. "Bridget, if you go in there without us, you know what they'll do to you!"

"I know," Bridget replied, a steely resolve settling in her expression as she prepared to return inside the pot, her heart racing with the weight of her decision.

Branch stood back, watching anxiously as the other Trolls fled from the chaos. "Did you see Willow in there?" he asked, his voice filled with urgency just as Bridget was about to open the door. "The chef took her before she left to gather the rest of the Trolls."

Willow suddenly emerged from the shadows, a wide grin spreading across her face. "I'm here, big bro," she said, her tone light but laced with relief. But as Branch rushed toward her, enveloping her in a warm hug, she grimaced slightly. "I'm glad to see you too." She pulled away, her eyes sparkling with joy. "You have your colors back! I'm so happy for you."

Branch managed a smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. As they began to run alongside their fellow Trolls, worry creased his brow. "Yeah, Poppy helped me with it." He glanced at Willow, his expression shifting to something more serious. "I can't believe I almost lost you, though."

"I'm sorry I scared you," Willow said, her voice softening. "But don’t worry; I’m not leaving you." Not like Grandma did.

Branch nodded, but his concern didn’t fade as he noticed her uneven gait. "Are you limping? And why are you breathing like that?"

Willow let out a nervous chuckle, her eyes darting away for a moment. "I may have dropped a glass jar with me in it off a Bergen dresser," she admitted, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Branch groaned, exasperated, but unable to hide the hint of a smile. "Of course you did." He swiftly directed the other Trolls down into the safety of the tunnel.

"Come on!" Poppy called energetically, rallying everyone. "Everybody, let’s go. No Troll left behind!” She quickly turned her gaze back towards the looming Bergen castle, determination etched on her features.

"Poppy?" Branch said, a note of concern threading through his voice. He had Willow sit down, allowing her to catch her breath after the frantic escape.

Poppy sighed, her expression turning somber as she approached the siblings. "Bridget just ruined her life to save ours. It’s not right!" She walked closer to Branch, her passion igniting. "She deserves to be happy just as much as we do." Her gaze lingered back on the castle, infused with a sense of urgency. "They all do!"

Branch sighed heavily, knowing the fire in Poppy’s heart all too well. "You’re going to do something crazy, aren’t you?" A small smile tugged at his lips at her determined expression. "Alright. Let me get the rest of our friends." He gestured towards his sister. "Can you keep her company while I go help them?"

"You called them your friends!" Poppy exclaimed, her face lighting up with excitement. She nodded enthusiastically. "I’ll keep her company." As Branch disappeared into the tunnel to gather the Snack Pack, she settled beside Willow, who leaned against the tree, breathing a bit heavily.

“How are you feeling?” Poppy asked, concern etched in her features.

Willow sighed softly, her brow furrowing. "I’m alright," she replied honestly. "I’m upset that I scared Branch so badly and irritated that I got hurt." A smile broke through her frown as she added, "Thank you for helping Branch get his colors back. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for that to happen."

Poppy smiled back, her eyes twinkling with affection. "Of course! Honestly, I don’t even know how it happened," she admitted, her voice brightening. "He was helping me get my colors back." At Willow’s surprised expression, she elaborated, "I had given up hope while stuck in that pot with the Trolls. But Branch gave it back to me."

A comfortable silence enveloped them as they waited for Branch to return. When he finally appeared with the Snack Pack, Poppy eagerly shared her bold plan to crash Trollstice and save Bridget. Willow stood up, a newfound energy surging through her. "Alright, let’s go!" she declared, determination in her eyes.

Branch quickly shook his head, placing a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder, urging her back down. "Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not going anywhere near the castle. Especially not while you’re injured."

Willow crossed her arms defiantly, her brows knitting together with irritation. "Well, I’m not returning to the village without you," she retorted.

Branch’s expression turned serious as he glared at her, his voice low. "I won’t lose you to the Bergens again." He crossed his arms tightly, the protective instinct surging within him. "This plan of Poppy’s might work, but I’m not letting you put your life at risk again. I can’t focus on any of this if I have to worry about you getting hurt."

Poppy stepped between the two siblings, her brow furrowing in thought. "How about a compromise?" she suggested. She looked at Willow earnestly. "You’re hurt, so it wouldn’t be wise for you to go back to the castle. But you don’t have to go back to the village; you could stay in the Troll Tree until we get back." She smiled gently at Willow. "That way, you’ll be the first to know we’re safe."

Willow considered her friend’s words, her expression wavering between frustration and understanding. "Fine," she sighed, her resolve softening. She moved closer to Branch, concern etched on her face. "If you get hurt, I’ll never forgive you," she warned sternly. "So you better come back to this tree safe."

Branch smiled warmly, wrapping his arms around her in a reassuring hug. "I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me."

"Not possible," Willow muttered against his shoulder. She extended her fist, locking eyes with him. "You and me?"

"Me and you," Branch confirmed, bumping her fist with his in their signature way. With a renewed sense of purpose, he turned to their friends. "Let’s go."

Willow stood at the edge of the clearing, watching her friends disappear in the distance toward Bergen Castle. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, a mix of longing and nostalgia. "I may as well go to Grandma's old pod while I'm here," she muttered to herself, the words barely breaking the silence of the deserted woods. She took a deep breath, bracing herself before moving around the gnarled, barren tree that had once been a playground for her and her brother. A shiver ran down her spine; it had been twenty long years since her last visit, and the memories still haunted her.

As she approached her grandma's pod, a sense of familiarity washed over her, despite the dust that coated the surfaces and the furniture that lay in disarray. It was evident that the last Trollstice had left its mark, the chaos erupting when the Trolls had escaped. Yet, with all its neglect, the pod still felt like Grandma Rosiepuff’s home, a sanctuary of warmth buried beneath layers of time.

Willow entered the small, cozy space, her heart racing as she headed straight for Grandma Rosiepuff's room. The scent of aged wood and lavender lingered like a soft embrace. The walls were filled with memories—photos framed and faded, capturing long-lost moments. She sat down on the wrinkled quilt of her grandma's bed, picking up one of the photo albums. Flipping through the pages, she found a picture of her brothers from before BroZone had turned their lives upside down. Grandma's cheerful grin leapt from the page, and Willow felt a sense of bittersweet warmth as she imagined her excessive laughter echoing against the walls.

Cradling the album in her arms, she tucked it in her hair for safekeeping and moved on, the weight of nostalgia pulling her to the next room—her brothers' old sanctuary. A pang of sadness pierced her heart as she recalled how little she had known them, how they had vanished from her life, leaving her and Branch in solitude. She wished fervently that they were out there somewhere, safe and content.

In this room, Willow rummaged through the remnants of their lives. She picked up Spruce's favorite shampoo, its scent a familiar reminder of simpler days. Beside it lay Clay's book, still tucked under the pillow where he had eagerly read each night. She smiled sadly as she spotted some of Floyd's earrings, glimmering in the dim light, and a pair of worn gloves that had likely belonged to John Dory. Each object told a story of laughter, arguments, and love that now felt like a distant echo.

She often found herself lost in the quiet corners of her mind, reflecting on the stories she had never had the chance to be a part of. Each tale Branch shared held a bittersweet resonance, filled with laughter and warmth, yet tainted by the ache of absence. She longed for the moments that could have been — the shared jokes, the whispered secrets, the late-night conversations that might have woven their lives together in rich, intricate threads. But they had left her world too soon, leaving behind only echoes of their laughter and fragments of memories that felt almost like shadows. Her understanding of them was built solely on Branch's reminiscences, each one a fleeting glimpse into lives she would never fully know or touch.

Finally, Willow stepped into the room she once shared with Branch. Memories flooded back unbidden—sudden whispers in the dark, shared secrets, and dreams spun beneath the blankets. Searching through the remnants, she felt a familiar ache as she looked for her brother's stuffed crocodile, a childhood companion that had comforted them both. Instead, she found her old toy lion, its fabric frayed but full of spirit. A bittersweet smile crossed her face as she hugged it tightly, savoring the way its presence made her feel as a child once more.

When Willow had finished her exploration, she gathered her treasures into a bag, ensuring nothing would slip away. She hoisted it onto her back, just in time to see a flaming pot careen down the castle stairs, with the chef himself tumbling out of it in a spectacular display. Confusion flickered across her face. "What am I missing?" she wondered aloud, laughter and celebration spilling through the air.

At the base of the Troll Tree, magic erupted. The Trolls, once again brought to life, filled the clearing with energy and excitement. King Peppy was perched high above, placing a crown upon Poppy’s head, proclaiming her the new Queen of the Trolls. Willow felt a rush of joy as she grinned and lightly patted Poppy’s shoulder, quickly joining the rest of the Snack Pack around her.

"I can't believe I missed such a massive dance party," she muttered to Cooper as Branch and Poppy were lifted into the air by Smidge, their spirits soaring as high as the music.

"To be fair," Biggie chimed in, leaning down so she could hear over the raucous cheering, "We're pretty sure you broke some ribs. Not sure how much fun you would have had dancing."

Willow crossed her arms, a playful scowl on her face. "Still think it's not fair I missed out on an entire village dance party."

DJ Suki, with a mischievous grin, picked up Willow’s bag. "Don’t worry. There’ll be plenty of dance parties. Besides,” she added, “If you did break something, I don’t think Branch will appreciate you carrying anything."

With a sigh of resignation, Willow nodded. She settled down on the grass and waited, her gaze fixed on the vibrant celebration unfolding before her. When Branch finally made his descent, she jumped up and wrapped her arms around him, elation flooding her senses. "I'm glad you're safe," she said, relief evident in her voice.

Branch beamed at her, his own worries easing away. "You too, sis." His gaze fell to the bag DJ Suki was holding, a flicker of concern crossing his face. "Did you find some things from Grandma's pod to bring back home?" he asked tentatively.

Willow nodded eagerly. "Yeah! I got some photo albums and Leo." She shrugged lightly, trying to brush off the pain in her ribs. "I couldn’t find Crocko, though. I’m sorry." As Branch’s expression dimmed, her heart ached for the disappointment she saw in his eyes.

"Can we go home now?" she asked, her exhaustion creeping in. "I’m tired."

Branch rolled his eyes, a playful smile touching his lips. "Sure, sis." Just as he turned to leave, she playfully jumped onto his back, her giggle lightening the moment. "What are you doing?" he exclaimed, half in surprise, half in amusement.

"I'm injured," she insisted, a grin spreading across her face. "Carry me."

He scoffed, yet affection was clear in his tone. "You’re two years younger than me. You’re too old to be acting like this."

"But I’m tired," she protested with mock drama. "You don’t want me to hurt myself walking to the bunker, do you?"

With a resigned huff, Branch finally relented, beginning to walk. "Fine, but I am not carrying you the whole way." Willow laughed heartily, hugging her brother tightly as they started the journey home, surrounded by the sounds of joy and friendship, their friends’ laughter ringing out like music behind them.

Chapter Text

Willow couldn’t shake the feeling that the journey back home seemed to fly by compared to the painstaking trek to Bergen Town. Perhaps it was the comforting atmosphere created by the Trolls, who, unlike before, radiated a relaxed energy. With the burden of their earlier struggles lifted, the air felt lighter, making every step a bit more joyful. She walked beside her brother, Branch, who was talking to Poppy about a party she wanted to throw to celebrate their newfound friendship with the Bergens, her voice bubbling with enthusiasm.

Willow inhaled deeply, savoring the fresh air, but the moment was interrupted by a jolt of pain in her side. She grimaced instinctively, the reminder of her injuries hitting her with a sharpness that made her heart race. Branch, attuned to her reactions, glanced up the moment he heard her sharp intake of breath. His brow furrowed in immediate concern as he studied her pained expression. "Alright," he said with a note of finality that brooked no argument. "We're going to the doctor as soon as we reach the village." He crossed his arms firmly, his protective instincts kicking in; it was plain to see he wouldn’t relent easily on this matter.

Poppy, who had been engrossed in their conversation, noticed Willow’s subtle limp and her waning smile. Worry knitted her brows together. "Are you sure you should be walking?" she asked softly, genuine concern lacing her voice. She could see the strain etched on Willow’s face, the way her smile faltered under the weight of discomfort. "It looks like you're in a lot of pain."

Willow chewed on her lip, pondering the truth of Poppy’s observation. "I think I'll be alright," she replied after a moment, trying to infuse her voice with assurance. Yet, as she surveyed the serene landscape around her, she couldn’t ignore the pangs that intensified now that the most stressful part of their adventure was behind them. It felt as if shards of glass were embedded in her arms, a constant reminder of her fall, while her hip throbbed persistently with each step. Steeling herself, she nodded towards Branch. "We should definitely talk to Dr. Moonbloom before we reach the bunker," she added, making an effort to sound composed despite the discomfort. Branch nodded, satisfaction mingling with concern, understanding that his sister's health was paramount.

At the small, brightly lit medic's pod, Willow sat nervously on the examination bed, her heart racing as she awaited Dr. Moonbloom’s assessment. Known for her clinical efficiency rather than a gentle approach, the doctor wasted no time. "You're fortunate to be alive," she stated matter-of-factly, carefully picking shards of glass from Willow's arms, remnants of the mishap that had nearly cost her everything. "A fall from that height could have killed you." Her piercing gaze met Willow’s. "As it stands, you have some strained muscles that we'll need to address and a few fractured ribs." She raised an eyebrow, scrutinizing Willow’s expression. "You did say you got all these injuries from the fall, correct?"

Willow hesitated, recalling the moments leading up to her tumble. "Well, the Bergen chef did squeeze me a little too tight. Could that have done it?" she asked, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

Dr. Moonbloom nodded thoughtfully, her brow furrowing slightly. "That would indeed make sense. A Bergen's grip is remarkably strong, and if she squeezed hard enough, it could certainly crack a few ribs. Add that to the impact of the fall, and it’s no surprise we’re dealing with some broken bones. I also need to check for any serious complications—like a rib puncturing a lung." At Branch's panicked gasp, Willow instinctively squeezed his hand for reassurance. "But your breathing sounds clear, and the x-rays didn’t reveal anything alarming, so you’ll be alright," she added, trying to offer what solace she could.

Willow couldn’t help but snort in response as Branch visibly relaxed. "Always a pleasure talking to you, Doc," she quipped, rolling her eyes, knowing her sarcasm was met with indifference.

Dr. Moonbloom maintained her clinical focus. "Strained muscles are common in situations like yours and can be treated easily with proper care. I’d like you to remember this simple acronym," she said, pulling out a crisp sheet of paper. "R.I.C.E. — Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation. It’s crucial to avoid any activities that could exert your muscles for the next several days. That, unfortunately, means no dancing for a bit." Willow’s face fell with a disappointed sigh at the mention of her favorite pastime.

"Ice can help reduce swelling," the doctor continued. "You should apply it to the affected areas for fifteen to twenty minutes at a time. I’ll provide you with some compression bandages to assist with the swelling as well. You’ll need to make an effort to rest in positions that keep the strained muscles elevated, which might be challenging."

Branch, ever attentive, interjected, looking earnestly at Dr. Moonbloom. "Is there anything specific I need to do for her when she gets home?"

"You’ll want to ensure she sleeps upright until her ribs heal," Dr. Moonbloom advised. "I’ll also arrange for some crutches to help her walk out of here." A thoughtful frown crossed her face. "However, I’m not certain how she’ll manage to navigate the entrance to your bunker.”

Understanding the challenge ahead, Branch nodded. "I can modify the platform to make it easier for her to get in and out without needing to climb. And I can set up something for her to sleep comfortably while sitting up." He glanced up at Dr. Moonbloom, seeking further guidance. "Is there anything else we should consider?"

"I’ll give you a list of exercises that she'll need to start doing as soon as she gets home," she replied. "I highly recommend including some singing from time to time. It encourages deep breathing, which will help prevent pneumonia and support her recovery overall." Dr. Moonbloom turned her gaze back to Willow, who smiled faintly, comforted by the doctor’s thoroughness.

As Branch processed the information, he looked at his sister with concern. "I need to get the bunker set up for you. Do you think you’ll be okay waiting here by yourself for a little while? I can ask Poppy to come and keep you company."

Willow’s face brightened at the suggestion. "Yeah, I’d love that! Poppy is great company. I’ll be alright waiting a few hours," she reassured him, squeezing his hand affectionately.

Nodding with resolve, Branch left the medic's pod and sought out Poppy to discuss Willow’s situation. "Of course, I’d love to hang out with Willow," Poppy said with a wide grin. "She’s one of my best friends."

"Thanks so much," Branch said, a burden lifting from his shoulders. "I hate leaving her alone, especially after everything that happened."

Poppy smiled sincerely, understanding the depth of his concern. "I totally get it. After almost losing her once, you want to make sure she’s okay. Just take care of everything you need at the bunker, and I’ll keep Willow entertained."

After sharing a reassuring hug, Branch hurried away to make the necessary adjustments in the bunker. As the shadows of night began to blanket the world outside, he finally returned to the medic’s pod, finding Willow peacefully napping on the examination bed, bathed in warm, soft light. Her gentle breaths filled the room, a comforting reminder of resilience and the bond they shared.

Poppy's face lit up as she saw Branch stroll into the room, his familiar silhouette instantly brightening her mood. "Hey, Branch," she greeted with a warm smile. "Did you manage to get everything done that you needed?" As he nodded, a wave of relief washed over her, her grin broadening further. "That's good to hear." 

But then her expression shifted slightly, concern etching lines across her forehead. "So, when are you going to tell your sister about what happened in the Bergen castle?" 

Branch frowned, his gaze darting to his sister, Willow, who was nestled under her blankets, seemingly lost in a peaceful slumber. "We can't tell her," he replied, crossing his arms defensively. It wasn’t just a secret; it felt like a burden he wasn’t ready to share, especially considering how much Willow was already dealing with due to her injuries. "The last thing she needs is to worry about me almost being eaten by a Bergen."

"You were almost eaten by a Bergen?!" Their conversation was interrupted by Willow’s voice, her tone sharp and incredulous. She bolted upright, eyes wide with alarm, glaring at them both. "And you weren't going to tell me?" The tension in her features shifted quickly to concern. "How on earth did that even happen?"

Poppy turned to Branch, a cheeky smirk creeping onto her face. "Well, since it’s clearly not a secret any longer, let me fill you in. The Bergen chef lost her temper, punched the table, and Branch went flying!” She paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. "It's actually impressive how high he flew, considering the rest of us didn't even leave the table." She completely missed the way Willow’s glare burned into Branch as she shrugged casually. "Anyway, it got even crazier; the chef caught him mid-air and was ready to serve him up to King Gristle. It was a close call, but I managed to knock him out of the way just in time."

"I know you don’t eat much," Willow responded slowly, her eyes narrowing as she directed her gaze back to her brother, "but how were you light enough to go flying?"

A sheepish chuckle slipped from Branch's lips as he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the heat of embarrassment rise to his cheeks. "I may or may not have forgotten to eat a few times." As soon as the words escaped him, he caught the deepening glare from his sister. "It's not like I did it on purpose," he defended, holding up his hands in a gesture of innocence. "I’d leave early in the mornings to gather supplies and end up working straight through lunch. By the time I remembered I hadn’t eaten, it was practically time for dinner."

Willow crossed her arms, her eyebrows drawing together in exasperation. "I know you used to head out before I did, but I thought you were eating the lunch I had ready in the fridge." She raised an eyebrow expectantly. "So what happened to it if you weren’t eating?"

Branch cringed, the memories of his covert snacking habits flooding back. "I may have been storing it in my room so you wouldn’t find it..."

"Are you serious?!" Her shocked shout sent a jolt through him. "It's bad enough that you weren't eating, but you were hoarding old food in your room, too?" She groaned, burying her head in her hands for a moment as she processed his revelation. "Please, tell me you haven't actually eaten any of it, have you? You know you can't preserve food at all."

Rolling his eyes, Branch tried to dismiss her worries. "Don't fret; I haven't eaten any of it. I tossed the old stuff to the critters in the woods once it started to go bad." He huffed in annoyance at her mutterings about “small mercies.” "Can we just leave already?"

Poppy, who had been watching the entire exchange with a mixture of amusement and concern, suddenly sprang to her feet. "Absolutely! I have the breathing exercises and crutches that Dr. Moonbloom wanted to give you. She said if you need anything else, just let her know." She handed the crutches to Willow with a supportive smile. "Is there anything else you need me to take care of?"

Branch shook his head with a reassuring grin. "We'll be alright, thanks." He offered a sincere smile to Poppy. "Really, thank you for all your help." He gently helped Willow out from under the blankets and handed her the crutches. "Come on, sis," he chuckled, watching her stifle a yawn. "It’s time to go home."

Willow nodded sleepily, her eyelids heavy as she walked beside her brother, Branch, back to the bunker. The soft hum of machinery accompanied their footsteps as the platform descended, the gentle swaying a comfort after their long day. When they reached the living area, Branch guided Willow toward her room, where he had thoughtfully prepared a cozy setup just for her. He had arranged a sturdy sling for her injured leg, allowing her to elevate it comfortably while sitting. A mountain of fluffy pillows was piled at the head of her bed, perfectly propping her up for a restful night’s sleep.

Willow's heart swelled with gratitude as she looked at her brother. “Thanks, bro,” she said, a warm smile breaking through her fatigue. She watched as Branch picked up her hairbrush, its familiar wooden handle a reminder of countless moments spent together.

“Go ahead and relax, sis,” Branch encouraged softly as he began to brush her hair, the rhythmic strokes soothing and familiar. “We haven’t had the chance to do this in ages, have we?”

Willow closed her eyes, enjoying the moment. The ritual of brushing each other’s hair had always been a way for them to reconnect, a comforting reminder that they weren't alone in their struggles. “What are you thinking?” Branch asked, his voice laced with concern as the brush glided through her hair.

Willow opened her eyes, her expression serious. “I know it’s been tough for you to remember to eat,” she said slowly, searching her brother’s face. “But it really scares me to think you haven’t been taking care of yourself. I need to know you’ll start eating better now that the Bergens aren’t a threat anymore.” She shifted slightly among the pillows, determination flickering in her eyes. “I won’t be able to relax unless I do.”

Sighing, Branch set the brush down, the weight of her words sinking in. “Fine. I promise I'll take better care of myself,” he said, offering her an earnest look. “If it makes you feel better, we can have our meals together so you can see I’m eating. How does that sound?”

Willow’s face brightened at his promise. “That sounds good,” she replied, a sense of relief washing over her. She reached for the brush, eager to return the favor. “Alright, it’s my turn to brush your hair.”

Branch chuckled, knowing full well that with her leg elevated, it would be a challenge for her. “Maybe when you’re in a bit less pain,” he teased as he saw the playful pout on her face. “I’ll be fine, really.” He gently patted her shoulder, his affection evident. “Get some sleep, sis. It’s been a long couple of days.”

Willow nodded, a yawn escaping her lips. “It has,” she agreed, looking up at him with a tired but happy smile. “Goodnight, Branch. I love you, bro.”

Several hours later, the quiet of the bunker was disrupted by the sound of muffled sobs. Branch bolted upright in his bed, heart racing as he recognized the familiar cry of his sister. He quickly made his way to Willow’s room, pushing the door open with concern etched on his face. “Willow?” he asked, taking in the scene before him. “Are you alright? Did you fall out of bed?” His eyes darted to the bed, relieved to find her still propped up among the pillows, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Hey, bro,” Willow said, forcing a small smile through her tears. “Did I wake you?”

Branch shook his head, opting to keep his worry at bay. “Nah, I was already up,” he lied, moving closer to her bed. “What’s going on?”

“I had a bad dream,” she admitted sheepishly, her voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s okay. I know it was just a dream. I just need to calm down.”

His brow furrowed slightly. “You don’t usually get nightmares,” he pointed out. “So it must have been pretty bad. Do you want to talk about it? I’ve heard that helps.”

Willow seemed to hesitate for a moment, but finally nodded. “I was in the glass container the chef put me in before,” she started, anxiety creeping back into her voice. “But it felt heavier, like I couldn’t move it. Then suddenly, I was in the Bergen dining area, watching everyone get eaten. Grandma was there too.” Her gaze met Branch’s, desperation mingling with fear. “I had to watch everyone I love get eaten by the Bergens, and then the chef opened the jar and swallowed me. I couldn’t do anything about it.”

Branch let out a heavy sigh, sitting beside her on the bed, feeling the weight of her distress. “You don’t have to worry about anyone getting eaten anymore,” he promised gently, running a soothing hand through her hair. “And you don’t have to worry about the chef either.”

“I know that,” she grumbled, crossing her arms defiantly. “That’s why I know it was just a dream.”

“But the mind can mess with us, can’t it?” Branch asked, watching her nod reluctantly. “Would you feel better if I stayed here tonight?” He felt a wave of relief wash over him when she nodded, and he slid down beside her on the bed. “We haven’t had a sleepover in forever. We should invite Poppy over for one someday.”

A mischievous grin spread across Willow’s face as she snuggled against him. “You just want to get closer to your crush,” she teased, chuckling at the rosy hue that crept up his cheeks. “Don’t be embarrassed. I think it’s cute that you’re starting to admit you like Poppy.”

Branch groaned, playfully shoving her head away. “What did I do to deserve a bratty sister like you?”

“It’s your fault I’m like this,” Willow shot back, giggling as she pushed him back. They settled comfortably into the bed, the warmth of their sibling bond wrapping around them like a cozy blanket.

“Hey,” Branch said, extending his fist toward her. “You and me?”

“Me and you,” Willow grinned, tapping her fist against his. It was their promise, a vow that no matter how isolated they felt, they would always have each other to rely on.

Chapter Text

"For as long as anyone can remember, the happiest, sunniest, singingest creatures in all the world were my people, the Trolls." Poppy smiled as she turned the page of her scrapbook. "Look at us. We didn't have a care in the world except for Bergens. See, Bergens didn't sing or dance. They were always sad."

Willow and Branch looked at each other, amused as she recapped their recent adventure. Willow was just grateful Poppy decided to hold onto everything she had planned until she could walk without her brother hovering.

"So Trolls and Bergens made peace, starting what I'm sure will be a harmonious new era. And that, Branch and Willow, is why we're having a parade today." She grinned at her friends. "That and Willow was officially cleared to dance and party."

"As long as she doesn't lift anything," Branch corrected, lifting a finger in the air. "And thanks for the lengthy recap, Poppy. But we were there, remember?" He pointed to the scrapbook. "That's me."

"Oh, I know," Poppy said, putting the book back in her hair. "I just saw an opportunity to share my scrapbook. And I took it." She shoved a kazoo in Branch's mouth when he groaned in annoyance. "Let the first annual Troll Liberation Parade begin!" She used her hair to launch onto a rock and let out a whistle to get the other Trolls to join. When they arrived, she started to sing and started the parade.

(Poppy)

Raise up your hands

I want you dancing

(Branch)

Raise 'em up, raise 'em up now

(Poppy)

There's no, no time to hesitate

(Branch)

Do it, do it now

Willow laughed and worked to keep up with Branch as he followed Poppy.

(Poppy)

Lift up

(Poppy and Branch)

Your voices all together right now

'Cause your day is our day

(Willow, Poppy, and Branch)

Say goodbye to the clouds

Goodbye to the rain

And look to a world

Where everything's changed

And freedom is ours

So let's gather around and celebrate

Willow walked beside Branch in the parade. She loved finally getting the chance to sing with her brother.

(Willow, Poppy, and Branch)

We are free together

And we're soaring so high

Yeah, high in the sky

And we're smuggling by

And shining so brightly

Free forever

And we're livin' our lives

In lovin' and laughter

Freely and happily ever after

Willow grinned as the Trolls cheered at the end of the song. She stood by Branch in front of the crowd with the Snack Pack. "Great job, Trolls," Poppy said at the top of a mushroom. "As your queen, I decree that  we're having a Troll Liberation Party tomorrow!"

Willow cheered with her friends while Branch smiled approvingly at Poppy. "Oh, it gets better," Poppy said, pointing at the cheering Trolls. "'Cause I led us here to give this invitation to a very special guest." She used her hair to pull the grass behind her apart. "The Bergens!"

Willow smiled sheepishly as an air of silence enveloped the group of Trolls, their eyes wide with hesitation. She approached Poppy and stood beside her, glancing nervously at the crowd, hoping for some sign of enthusiasm. "I thought you talked about this with them already," she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

Poppy bit her lip, her gaze shifting to Branch, who stood with his arms crossed, a furrowed brow conveying his irritation. “Well, I talked about it with Branch,” she admitted.

Branch sighed dramatically and stepped forward, his voice rising with disbelief. “I thought you were joking. Poppy, come on. A party? With the Bergens? You’re kidding, right?”

Cooper, visibly relieved by the misunderstanding, laughed heartily. “She is?” He chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, okay, now I get it! Took me a second.”

“Wha?” Poppy groaned, annoyed. “No, guys! I’m inviting the Bergens because they’re our friends now! Remember? We’ve been singing about it for half an hour! It’s a new era!” She triumphantly pulled out her scrapbook and opened it, revealing pages of memories filled with happy moments and colorful drawings.

Without warning, Branch hopped up and snatched the scrapbook from Poppy, his expression a mix of urgency and playfulness. “Okay, that’s enough scrapbook for today.” He pulled the top of the mushroom up and gently covered the scrapbook as if tucking it into bed. “Night-night, scrapbook.”

“Sorry, Poppy,” Biggie chimed in, scratching his head. “But the Bergens are just so different from us.” His tone was thoughtful before he shot a worried glance at the others.

Willow nodded, her brow knitted in contemplation. “They are different from what we’re used to,” she agreed. DJ Suki piped up, recalling how the Bergens didn’t share their taste in music either. “Then we should try to learn what kinds of things they like,” Willow suggested, her voice steady. “We can’t be friends if they feel uncomfortable at our parties.”

“They even hate being glittered,” Guy Diamond remarked, a mischievous grin on his face as he unleashed a burst of glitter that landed on Cooper’s head.

Cooper laughed heartily, brushing off the sparkles. “Who wouldn’t enjoy that?”

“Don’t encourage this,” Branch scolded, shaking his head as he pointed at Willow. In retaliation, Willow stuck her tongue out playfully while jotting down questions to ask King Gristle for their upcoming invitation.

“And sure, we’re all glad the Bergens promised not to eat us,” Branch continued, holding his hand out to emphasize his point. “But one, are we sure they all promised?” His comment sent a wave of gasps through the group. “And two, what if they change their minds?” Another gasp echoed. “And three, I lifted too many fingers!”

Willow rolled her eyes as the Trolls gasped even louder at Branch’s antics. “Alright, that’s enough panic,” she said, leaning against her brother for support. “I know this is uncharted territory, but you have to relax. We made peace with the King. He isn’t going to let his people eat us.”

“Willow’s right,” Poppy affirmed, her tone resolute. “You all are being ridiculous. I promise you, it’s perfectly safe.”

Just then, Willow ducked alongside Branch and Poppy as Bridget and King Gristle popped their heads through the grass, their expressions curious. “Did we miss the parade?” they exclaimed, their voices booming.

Willow sighed, taking in the chaos as the Trolls began to panic and scatter in all directions. “Great timing, guys,” she said, a hint of amusement creeping into her voice. Meanwhile, Poppy worked tirelessly to calm her friends while addressing the two Bergens. “Sorry you missed the parade,” she said with a warm smile.

Poppy’s mood shifted slightly when she noticed Branch, who had fallen face-first into a mud puddle during the chaos. She rushed to help him up. “Hey, Bridget. Hey, Gristle.”

“Oh no,” Bridget said, concern etched on her face as she surveyed the pandemonium. “What scared them off?”

“Guys,” Poppy said, tucking her scrapbook away, “we’ve just got to get the Trolls and Bergens to be friends.” She pulled the invitation out of her pocket, excitement brimming in her eyes. “So we are inviting you to a party!”

“A Troll party?” Bridget asked, her voice a mixture of surprise and joy as she picked up the colorful invitation. “It’s a dream come true! All I need is a plus-one.” Willow watched, her heart swelling with joy, as the two Bergens exchanged sweet glances and spontaneously began to sing to one another, their cheerful harmonies echoing through the air. They were utterly adorable.

“Whoa!” Branch called out abruptly, realizing they were leaning uncomfortably close to each other. “Still here, guys! Feeling awkward!” The Bergens quickly stepped back, their cheeks flushed with embarrassment as they apologized.

“Well, I think it’s adorable,” Willow remarked, her arms crossed in delight. “I love that you two can express how much you care for each other.”

Branch rolled his eyes at his sister’s enthusiasm before turning back to Poppy, a serious expression on his face. “Poppy, listen. You can’t throw this party. The Trolls aren’t ready to have the Bergens in our village.”

“Branch, just trust me,” Poppy insisted, her eyes sparkling with determination. “This party is going to be a smash!”

Willow nodded thoughtfully, turning her gaze to the towering Bergen king. "To ensure everything goes smoothly for the celebration, I have a few important questions for you." With a graceful motion, she gestured for King Gristle to lower his massive hand, allowing her to climb up onto his palm. Once settled, she retrieved a well-worn notebook hidden in her vibrant hair and fixed her bright eyes on him. "Firstly, are there any food allergies we should be mindful of? What about sensitivities to certain lights or sounds? Is there particular music that resonates with your people? And what kinds of games do you enjoy?"

King Gristle furrowed his brow, glancing down at the small Troll in his grasp. "Why is all of this so important to you?"

Willow rolled her eyes, a hint of exasperation in her voice. "This is a party to celebrate the new friendship blossoming between the Trolls and the Bergens. We can't throw a successful party if either group feels uncomfortable, can we?"

The king nodded thoughtfully, considering her words. "That makes a lot of sense." He settled himself on a sturdy tree trunk. "As far as I know, we don't have any widespread food allergies among Bergens, though that's something that could vary from Bergen to Bergen. However, we do have a sensitivity to bright lights, and loud noises can be quite painful for our ears. Also, it's best to avoid glitter—that stuff can be overwhelming."

Willow diligently noted these details in her notebook. "That's very helpful. And what about your celebrations? What games do you typically play?"

Gristle looked down at the gathered Trolls, contemplating their preferences. "For our parties, we usually have piñatas, but I must admit that most of our games revolve around… well, consuming Trolls," he confessed, his expression shifting to one of concern. "Is there any specific information we should consider to help your group feel more comfortable?"

After a moment's thought, Poppy winced at the suggestion. "Actually, yes. Given the history between our kinds, you might have noticed the running and screaming. Most of us Trolls are still quite uneasy about the idea of being eaten." She glanced up at King Gristle, her voice steady yet tinged with anxiety. "If you bring any games, we would really appreciate it if none of them involve us getting eaten."

King Gristle nodded, his mind racing as he absorbed this feedback. "I see. A lot of our games do revolve around that theme, even our piñatas are designed with that in mind."

Willow let out a nervous chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "Yeah, maybe let's leave those at home. The last thing we need is for one of us to panic during the festivities."

"And we also have to consider the fact that you are all significantly larger than us," Branch added begrudgingly, an edge of reluctance in his tone. He was still skeptical about the whole idea, but seeing his sister so eager to make this work, he chose to aid the efforts. "There’s usually a lot of dancing at these parties, and I don't want anyone to worry about a Troll getting stomped on."

"If you're all comfortable with it, we could hold you while the dancing is taking place," Bridget suggested hopefully.

"That could work," Willow replied, considering the logistics. She raised her pencil to make a note, only to pause. "But it’s crucial that you ask for permission before even thinking about picking up a Troll. Like we mentioned, many of us are still terrified of being eaten." She turned her serious gaze towards the King. "While this party is meant to celebrate our newfound friendship, I believe a formal apology would go a long way."

"I don’t think that's necessary," Poppy interjected, her brow furrowed in concern. "We're friends now. We should bury any bad blood and leave it behind us."

Willow narrowed her eyes at Poppy, trying to convey the weight of the concern. "You might feel it’s unnecessary, but many of your people would likely disagree. For generations, we have been imprisoned and devoured by Bergens. It's not easy to shake off those deep-seated feelings," she explained, looking earnestly at King Gristle. "This isn’t a slight against you personally. I understand you’ve never harmed a Troll, but you must comprehend why an apology is crucial."

King Gristle nodded slowly, a new understanding dawning on him. "You’re right. I’ll make it a priority to issue that apology and will come up with some alternative party games. I’ll also ensure that the Bergens joining us understand the theme changes. We’ll be careful about where we step as well."

Willow's face lit up with relief. "That sounds fantastic! I was a bit worried you wouldn't be receptive to all of this." She nodded approvingly at the King. "We’ll see you tomorrow, then, right?"

The group waved goodbye to each other, their voices fading into the tranquil evening as they walked off toward their respective villages, each with their own excited thoughts about the night's celebrations. Willow turned to Poppy, her brow furrowed with concern. "I'm really sorry about all the chaos earlier, Poppy," she said, her tone sincere. "I know you're the queen, and this is your party. I should have trusted you to make the final decisions."

Poppy chuckled lightly, a playful glint in her eye. "Don’t worry about it, Willow." Her smile shifted to a more sheepish expression. "Honestly, I wouldn’t have come up with half of the amazing ideas you suggested. This party could have been a total disaster without your help."

Branch, standing nearby with a thoughtful look, chimed in. "You know, in case things still go awry, we could always rely on the Bergen defenses we still have," he said, waving his remote control around with a grin. "It might come in handy."

Poppy shot him an exasperated glare. "We don’t need that!" she said, irritation creeping into her voice. "Just get rid of it."

"Wait, you want me to get rid of Gary?" Branch exclaimed, shocked. The remote control—the little mechanized creature he had affectionately named Gary—looked quite harmless and even endearing, despite its intended purpose.

"Yes," Poppy insisted, starting to walk away. "And I can’t believe you named it!"

Branch shrugged defensively, his face a mix of pride and embarrassment. "I didn’t have that many friends until recently, okay? Besides, Willow thinks it's cute, and so should you."

Willow let out a bright laugh. "Yeah, Gary is like his little sidekick. It’s adorable!" She turned her attention back to Poppy, who was nodding, considering their options. "You need to check on refreshments, right?"

Poppy nodded in agreement, her mind racing with thoughts of the evening's festivities. "We should definitely make the snacks more Bergen-friendly. I don’t think our usual punch bowls are going to cut it for them."

With a determined look, Poppy turned to Branch. "Any chance you can whip up a giant punch bowl before the night’s over? I can prepare plenty of punch, but I’ll need something hefty to hold it all."

Branch grinned, the gears in his mind already turning. "I think I can manage that," he replied, enthusiasm bubbling in his voice.

Poppy turned to Willow, her expression hopeful. "Do you think you can make some snacks big enough for the Bergens too?"

Willow's eyes sparkled with excitement. "Absolutely! It’ll be a blast." She began to move her hands expressively as she brainstormed. "I’ll need a ton of sugar, flour, chocolate…" Her voice trailed off as her mind lit up with ideas. "And fruit! Lots of fruit!"

Looking at her brother and Poppy, she added, "I need to get started now if it's going to be ready in time for the party!" Without further ado, she darted off to gather supplies, her excitement palpable. "See you later!" she called over her shoulder.

"Be careful!" Branch shouted after her, shaking his head with a sigh. "She’s going to be up all night."

Poppy laughed, her heart warmed by Willow's enthusiasm. "At least she’s excited about it," she said, grabbing Branch’s hand and pulling him along. "Now come on! We have to make sure everything is perfect before our big celebration!"

As they walked through the village, Poppy and Branch made sure everyone was informed about the changes that needed to take place. They found all the glitter Trolls, reminding them to limit the glitter spray to only their own kind, explaining that it could be harmful to the Bergens.

Eventually, Poppy and Branch split up, heading off in different directions—Poppy to get the punch ready for the party and Branch to create a massive punch bowl for the Bergens to use.

The entire day passed without Branch stepping foot in the kitchen, as Willow was completely absorbed in her chaotic yet organized preparation, drawing up plans and creating delicious snacks. The one attempt he made to sneak in for a sandwich was met with Willow tossing a wooden spoon at him, her focus unwavering. To smooth things over, she brought him a hefty plate of lunch while some scrumptious cakes were baking in the oven.

Once Branch finished the punch bowl, he stepped outside, watching as Willow meticulously moved dessert pieces from the bunker to the central platform. "You really should take a break," he suggested, leaning against his newly completed punch bowl, concern etched on his face. "You’ve been at this for hours."

Willow, her hands deftly placing a chocolate cake piece on the platform, looked up, the determination gleaming in her eyes. "And it’s almost done!" she said, her voice brimming with excitement. "I just need to finish getting all these pieces to the party site and build my masterpiece."

Raising an eyebrow at the array of desserts already cluttering the giant platform, Branch asked, "And what exactly is this supposed to be?"

With a mischievous grin, Willow set two tubs of frosting on the platform. "It’s a surprise, but trust me, it’s going to be my biggest dessert creation yet!" Her eyes sparkled with the thrill of revealing something special. "I have to get it done, though. If I don’t hurry, the bugs will devour it all before anyone gets a chance to see!"

Branch sighed, stepping closer and placing a hand on her shoulder, his voice softening. "Okay, but promise me you won’t stay up all night piecing this together. You need rest too."

Willow smiled warmly at her brother. "I promise I’ll get some sleep," she assured him. Then she playfully pushed him back toward their bunker. "Now go inside! I want to finish this without anyone spoiling the surprise."

Rolling his eyes but unable to hide a smile, Branch responded, "Alright, I’ll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Definitely!" Willow nodded, waving him off as he disappeared into the bunker. She took a deep breath, excitement welling again. "Now to get all of this to the party site and start building!" With determination, she hopped onto the caterbus she had borrowed, ready to transport the precious dessert pieces with care and enthusiasm.

When morning light crept into the bunker, Branch stirred awake to find the space eerily quiet and devoid of familiar faces. A surge of worry gripped him, and he quickly made his way to the top of the bunker, where he found Poppy in the midst of a flurry of activity. She was directing a team of helpers as they carefully maneuvered the enormous punch bowl onto a large platform, preparing it to be transported to the party venue.

“Have you seen Willow?” Branch asked, glancing around, his voice laced with anxiety. “She wasn’t in the bunker when I woke up.”

Poppy looked up from her task, her brow furrowing in concern. “I haven’t seen her yet,” she replied, her eyes darting around the bustling area. “Maybe she’s already at the party site. Let’s go check on her.”

Together, they set off towards the brightly decorated party area, the punch bowl teetering slightly as they navigated through the throngs of bustling Trolls. As they approached, Branch's jaw dropped in awe at the sight that greeted them—a magnificent, full-scale model of Bergen Town, crafted entirely out of various desserts.

“Wow,” he breathed, trying to process the sheer scope of the creation. “She wasn’t joking about this being her biggest dessert yet.” He stepped cautiously into the intricate landscape of the dessert town, taking in the sweet aroma and vibrant colors. Spotting the centerpiece, he exclaimed, “Is that the Troll Tree?”

Just then, Willow’s sleepy voice rang out from nearby. “The tree is made of pure chocolate, and the pods are cupcakes,” she said, yawning widely as she stretched her limbs. Her eyes sparkled with excitement, even through her fatigue. “Bergen Town is crafted entirely from chocolate cake and fresh berries. Isn’t it amazing?”

Branch and Poppy exchanged glances before Branch couldn’t mask his concern any longer. “Hey, guys. What are you doing here so late?” Willow asked, her smile dimming as she noted their serious expressions.

“It’s morning, Willow,” Branch replied, deadpan. He frowned as he noticed her gaze wandering up to the sky, a look of confusion etched across her face. “You promised you’d rest.”

Willow grimaced, a hint of regret in her eyes. “Sorry, Branch. I completely lost track of time. I didn’t even realize the sun had come up. But I’ll crash right after the party, I swear,” she added, determination creeping into her tone. “I don’t want to miss any of it.”

Branch sighed, a mix of exasperation and affection in his voice. “Fine. But after the party, you are going straight to bed.”

As the festivities unfolded, the atmosphere transformed from tense anticipation to exhilaration. With the first move made by Willow and Poppy, who greeted the Bergens with open arms and warm smiles, King Gristle offered a formal apology for the wrongs of the past. The weight of history seemed to lift in the air, allowing the Trolls to finally relax, embracing the chance to enjoy the food, music, and games that filled the celebration.

Branch settled into a cozy nook with Poppy, both of them soaking in the joyous revelry. “I’ve got to admit, that was an incredible gesture you made,” he said, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he turned to Poppy, his admiration evident.

Poppy beamed back at him, her eyes sparkling with pride. “It’s only great because everyone worked so hard to make it a comfortable gathering for everyone involved,” she replied humbly, giving his shoulder a friendly pat. Her gaze drifted toward a Bergen as he poured himself some punch. “And everyone seems to be enjoying the dessert Willow created.”

Branch nodded, scanning the lively scene before him, but he soon furrowed his brow in curiosity. “Where is she, anyway?” he asked. “I would have expected her to be in the thick of the festivities by now.”

Poppy surveyed the area before bursting into laughter, shaking her head. “I think the all-nighter she pulled has finally caught up to her,” she said, a playful grin forming on her lips as she pointed toward the base of one of the trees.

Branch turned to follow her gaze and erupted into laughter as he spotted Willow. There she was, curled up into a tight ball, blissfully asleep amid the vibrant celebration, oblivious to the joy surrounding her.

Chapter Text

"Who's excited to kick off Creek Week?" Poppy asked a group of Trolls in a clearing. "A full week of exercising our minds and bodies." Poppy smiled at the eager responses. " Now, I know Creek would usually lead Creek Week, but he can't be here for obvious reasons."

"He betrayed us!" Branch said, standing on a rock with anti-Creek signs and a t-shirt with the same picture as the signs. "We were all thinking it."

Willow raised her hand from the yoga mat she was sitting on. "Speaking of, why are we still calling it Creek Week?" She accepted the t-shirt Branch tossed her way and slipped it on over what she was wearing.

"Because the name was already established," Poppy answered. "And we couldn't think of another one." She pulled the anti-Creek banner and crumpled it up. "And yeah, Creek did betray us, but hey, we have a great substitute instructor to replace him." She gestured for Cooper to appear with a yoga mat. "Whoo-hoo!"

"Everyone join me in a Downward Cooper," Cooper said getting into a yoga position. The group watched as Cooper moved his neck around his legs and body.

Willow grimaced and stood up. "Yeah, I'm not doing this."

Branch looked at Poppy. "If you ask me, we should cancel Creek Week altogether. Or at the very least, rename it."

"That's what I'm saying," Willow said, crossing her arms.

"What would you rename it to?" Poppy asked.

"How about Troll Who Sold Us Out by Trying to Feed Us to Bergens Just to Save His Own Skin Week?" Branch suggested.

Willow rolled her eyes. "That's too long," she said. "How about Traitor Week?"

Branch nodded approvingly. "That could work."

"Look," Poppy said to the two. "I'm furious over what Creek did, too. And sure, sometimes the mere thought of him sends me into a blind rage and makes me so mad I want to grab him by the hair and..." she screamed in frustration. She sighed and smiled. "But still, he was a great yoga teacher."

"True," a voice said. Willow startled at the sound and turned to where the voice was coming from. Creek was back. He was a mess, but he was smiling. "And I still could be."

Willow ignored the screams from the Trolls behind her as she ran up to the traitor and punched him in the face . "What are you doing here?" She asked, grabbing Creek by his vest. "You're not welcome in the village."

Poppy crossed her arms and stood by Willow. "Yeah, tell us what you're doing here, traitor."

"'Traitor.' Yes, I deserve that," Creek admitted from where Willow was holding him. "But the truth is Poppy , I came back here today because I'm lonely." The Trolls behind Willow paused in confusion. "I'd do anything to take back what I did when I handed you over to the Bergens and sacrifice myself for you instead. I've returned to tell you all that I'm very sorry."

Branch scoffed. "Please. You think we're just going to forgive you?"

"We forgive you!" The Snack Pack shouted from behind Branch. They ran up to hug Creek before stopping as Willow still hadn't let him go. She growled in warning so the Trolls would back away.

Poppy sighed, defeated. "Let him go, Willow."

Willow looked at her friend , incredulous . "Poppy! You know what he did." She glared at Creek. " He betrayed everyone! I remember the look on his face when he did it. He wasn't sorry then, why should we believe he's sorry now?"

"We almost died because of him," Branch agreed. "And you're gonna let him back just because he said 'I'm sorry'?"

"No," Cooper denied. "He said he was 'very sorry'."

Poppy put her hand on Willow's shoulder. "The village has decided. We have to forgive him, Willow. Please put him down."

Willow groaned, annoyed. "Fine." She tossed him to the side where the Snack Pack surrounded him. "You all can forgive him, but count me out." She glared at Creek. "Keep him away from me."

"Let's welcome you back the Troll way," Guy Diamond said, helping Creek up. "With a makeover."

Willow watched unimpressed with Poppy and Branch behind a rock while the makeover happened. She was going to leave, but Branch stopped her.

What a manipulative jerk," he said looking at Poppy. "We got to get rid of him."

"We can't," Poppy said. "We've already forgiven him."

"Don't tell me you buy that whole," Branch started to imitate Creek. "Oh, I wish I could sacrifice myself for all of you?"

Willow nodded. "It's easy to say he would do that now that we're not all in danger."

"Of course not," Poppy denied. "But I'm queen, Branch. I have to set an example for everyone and try my best to live in Harmony." She finished in song while the critters harmonized with her.

Willow rolled her eyes, irritation bubbling beneath her calm exterior as Branch gently shooed the small critters from the clearing. "Well, that’s all well and good for you, Poppy," she snapped, her voice edged with frustration. "But you can't honestly expect everyone to welcome him back like he’s some sort of hero."

Poppy shrugged, her expression one of quiet determination. "You didn’t like him before all this went down, so I’m not really shocked that you feel this way now." She glanced at Willow, her green eyes pleading for understanding. "But please, for the sake of the village, let’s just move past the betrayal. It’s water under the bridge."

Willow crossed her arms tightly, a frown etched on her face. "Fine. I won’t bring up the betrayal again," she conceded reluctantly, though her tone still held a hint of defiance. "But he seriously needs to keep his distance from me." She waved goodbye to her brother Branch, who offered her a reassuring smile and a small wave as she turned away, her thoughts swirling with frustration.

As she walked toward the bunker, Willow grumbled to herself, the weight of annoyance settling heavily in her chest. “Stupid Creek, always finding a way to ruin my day,” she muttered under her breath, kicking a small pebble along the path. Why did he even have to come back? The very thought made her stomach twist in irritation.

With a deep sigh, she shook off her anger, deciding that maybe a little baking would lift her spirits. It was a familiar comfort, something that always had a way of soothing her jagged emotions. Once inside her cozy kitchen, she donned her favorite floral apron, its cheerful colors a stark contrast to her mood. She began gathering ingredients with deliberate care, measuring flour and sugar as the scent of vanilla filled the air.

As she mixed the batter, her mind wandered, and soon she found herself singing softly to the tune of a cheerful song, the melody wrapping around her like a warm hug. The rhythmic sound of her voice mingled with the clatter of utensils, gradually easing the tension that had built within her, if only for a moment. Baking might just be the remedy she needed to chase away the lingering shadows of frustration.

(Willow)

All you have to do is take a cup of flour

Add it to the mix

Now take a little something sweet, not sour

A bit of salt, just a pinch

Willow smiled as she set cupcakes into the oven before mixing more batter and making frosting. When the cupcakes were done, she pulled them out with her hair and placed more in the oven.

Baking these treats is such a cinch

Add a teaspoon of vanilla

Add a little more, and you count to four,

And you never get your fill of ...

Branch walked into the kitchen to see Willow frosting cupcakes while putting more in the oven. He watched, concerned as the pile of cupcakes grew larger on the table.

Cupcakes! So sweet and tasty

Cupcakes! Don't be too hasty

Cupcakes! Cupcakes, cupcakes, CUPCAKES!

Willow looked up from her chaotic kitchen, a grin spreading across her face as she spotted her brother, Branch, standing in the doorway. "Hey, Bro!" she called out, her tone bright and inviting. She tilted her head at the slightly anxious expression that danced across his features. "What's going on?"

Branch gestured toward the impressive towers of colorful cupcakes that filled the counter, their frosting glistening like jewels. "How long have you been in here?" he asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.

"I've been here since I left you and Poppy," Willow replied, her fingers deftly arranging more cupcakes into neat stacks. "It's been a bit of a stress bake-off for me."

Branch nodded, his concern evident as he surveyed the sweet mountain before him. "I can see that. Are you feeling any better now?" he inquired gently, his eyes searching hers.

"I am," she said, her smile brightening the room. However, as she glanced back at the towers of sugary delights, a hint of worry creased her brow. "The only problem is...what am I going to do with all these cupcakes?" She turned her gaze back to Branch, her question lingering in the air.

He took a step closer and shrugged slightly, a casual confidence returning to his demeanor. "I thought I'd check on you before heading back to prove that Creek hasn’t changed," he said, snatching a strawberry cupcake from its perch and taking a generous bite. "And, of course, I could use some lunch." He chuckled, eyeing Willow’s blushing cheeks when he mentioned his unconventional meal choice. "What’s for lunch? Cupcakes? I think I can get on board with that."

Willow laughed softly, the sound bubbling up in the cluttered kitchen. Branch then looked at the cupcakes thoughtfully, a spark of inspiration flashing in his eyes. "Actually, could I take a basket of these with me? I have a plan."

Willow raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Sure," she said, her curiosity piqued. As she filled a cupcake basket to the brim with an assortment of flavors—chocolate, vanilla, and red velvet—she handed it to him with a smile. "I'll be around the village giving these out to some of the Trolls. That should help reduce this mountain of sweets."

Branch took the basket with a thankful nod, his mind already churning with ideas about how to spread the joy of Willow’s baking throughout the village.

The two siblings climbed up onto the wooden platform, their footsteps echoing in the quiet village as they prepared to disperse into the hustle and bustle of the day. Willow spent the majority of her time surrounded by her friends, intentionally avoiding any interaction with Creek. Instead, she enthusiastically handed out cupcakes to delighted children, savoring the warmth of the sun and the laughter around her. It felt like a perfect day—until a piercing scream shattered the cheerful atmosphere.

Willow's heart raced as she sprinted toward the sound of her brother's voice, calling out for help. When she reached the riverbank, her brow furrowed in confusion. There stood Branch, confidently perched on a rock, arms crossed and wearing a triumphant grin. "Branch? What's going on?" she questioned, tilting her head in disbelief.

In that moment, Branch leaped to the riverbank where Creek was standing, looking bewildered. "That's right, Creek," Branch declared, his voice dripping with accusation. "I staged that fall because I knew you couldn't be trusted, and now everyone knows it too."

Willow scoffed, crossing her arms as she raised an eyebrow at her brother. "Sorry, bro, but all you've done is prove that he's a coward. And honestly, everyone already knew that." She gestured back at her friends, who stood behind Branch, expressions ranging from disapproval to disbelief.

Creek, his face flushed with embarrassment, mumbled an apology to the group before he turned and trudged away. Poppy, her expression darkened with irritation, glared at Branch. "I can't believe you pretended to be in danger just to trick Creek," she said, frustration lacing her voice.

"I did it to expose him," Branch insisted, trying to defend his actions.

Poppy groaned, her annoyance palpable. "Branch, we already knew Creek had weaknesses. We were trying to accept him anyway. The only person you've truly exposed here is yourself."

Branch let out a resigned sigh, looking at their friends for support. "Okay, okay, I’m sorry."

"Don't apologize to us," Poppy shook her head, her tone firm. "You need to apologize to Creek. He could have gotten hurt, and until he forgives you, we won’t forgive you either."

Branch's eyes widened in incredulity. "You want me to apologize to him? You can't be serious! Guys." The Snack Pack turned away, leaving Poppy to lead them off in discontent. Branch turned back to Willow, who appeared almost amused by the chaos. "Can you believe this? They want me to apologize to Creek."

Willow shrugged, her expression nonchalant. "You should have just avoided him like I’ve been doing. And honestly, you don’t have to apologize if you don’t want to." She began to walk away but paused, glancing back at him. "But you'll have to accept that Poppy won’t forgive you or even talk to you if you don’t make amends."

With a heavy sigh, Branch conceded, “Fine, I’ll go apologize to the traitor.” He fell in step behind his sister. "Will you come with me?” He noticed her fists clenching in tension. “I know you hate him. You despised him even before he betrayed us. But I could really use my sister’s support right now."

Willow sighed, rolling her eyes at her brother’s charming smile. "You just have to play the sibling card, don’t you? Fine. I’ll go with you; but I won’t look at him or talk to him. And he can’t be alone with me for any reason."

Branch exhaled in relief, grateful for her compromise. "Deal." They set off in the direction they had last seen Creek, until they found him at his pod, raking at the ground with hardened determination.

"Creek," Branch greeted him, attempting to break the tension.

“Shh,” Creek replied, raising a hand as if silencing a loud room. “I’m raking.”

“Of course you are,” Branch said, stepping closer. “Any idea when you’ll be done?” The silence stretched as Creek continued his meticulous raking, stubbornly giving no response. Branch tried again, "Look, I know you're probably mad."

"Why would I be mad?" Creek shot back, his gaze fixed on the flowing river. “I finally got back in with my friends after months of being excluded, and now they think I'm a coward because of you!" With palpable frustration, he broke his rake against the ground. "And you know what? I’m at peace with that."

Willow snorted when she caught sight of the picture Creek had raked into the sand—a crude depiction of Branch with a giant 'X' drawn across his face. Yeah, he was definitely at peace.

Taking a step forward, Branch sighed and forced out the words, "I'm sorry. Will you forgive me?"

“I’d love to forgive you,” Creek replied with a smirk that sent chills down Willow's spine. She frowned, feeling the uneasy tension in the air. It couldn’t be that easy.

"Great!" Branch grinned, his optimism resurfacing. "Now let’s head back so you can tell everyone you've forgiven me."

“Unfortunately, I can’t forgive you,” Creek said, his tone shifting abruptly. Willow rolled her eyes; she'd anticipated this letdown. "Because it's clear you’re still angry with me."

Branch's temper flared. “What do you mean? I’m not angry!” he asserted through gritted teeth, but nearly gasped when Creek flicked a strand of hair at him, landing a slap across his face.

“See?” Creek pointed out. “Anger!” Branch shot back, stating indignantly that it was because Creek slapped him, only for Creek to slap him again.

Willow's instinct to jump in and defend Branch rose, but she held back, poised to intervene when Branch raised a hand, signaling her to wait. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, and faced Creek again. "Okay, is there a way I can prove I’m not angry with you?"

“Oh, yes,” Creek agreed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “You just have to apologize to me in front of the entire village, singing in A-sharp, while extolling my many, many virtues.” He pulled out a neatly folded sheet of music, handing it over to Branch with an air of authority. "I took the liberty of writing down the lyrics."

"What?" Branch's face contorted in disgust as he read the outrageous words. He crumpled the paper between his fingers. "I'd rather the Trolls be angry at me forever than sing this drivel!"

Creek’s grin widened, clearly enjoying Branch's predicament. “Your choice.”

With hands thrown up in exasperation, Branch huffed, “Fine! Then I choose to be alone. My sister will be my only company.” He cast a scowl in Creek's direction, adding, “That’s how it was before, anyway.” He grabbed Willow's arm, tugging her back as they headed toward the safety of the bunker, their bond unbroken despite the turmoil of the day.

As the platform descended, Branch let out a frustrated groan, crossing his arms tightly across his chest. "I don't need the Trolls," he muttered under his breath, his voice tinged with irritation. Willow, watching him from the corner of her eye, couldn't help but feel amusement bubble up inside her. Branch often had these moments where he conversed with himself, and today was no different. "Also," he continued, as if the conversation were entirely normal, "I'm actually glad to be talking to myself again. I make some really convincing points."

When he glanced over at his sister, though, he noticed the pinched look of annoyance on her face. "Leave me alone, you were at the village a lot," he shot back defiantly, trying to deflect her judgment.

Willow shrugged nonchalantly, a playful grin spreading across her face. "Fair enough," she replied, clearly unbothered by his little outburst. As the platform finally reached its destination at the end of the living quarters, she promptly made her way into the cozy kitchen, the sweet aroma of baked goods enveloping her. She grabbed a colorful cupcake adorned with sprinkles and took a tantalizing bite.

Meanwhile, Branch wandered off to the corner where his beloved remote control, Gary, awaited his attention. The two shared a unique bond, and Branch felt a sense of comfort chatting away with his inanimate friend about all sorts of day-to-day grievances.

Before long, though, Branch re-entered the kitchen, determination etched on his face. "Alright, let’s get moving. I need to apologize to Creek," he announced, his tone firm and resolved.

Willow raised an eyebrow, holding the half-eaten cupcake near her mouth, a mischievous spark in her eye. "It hasn’t even been an hour, and you're already missing everyone?" she teased, trying to suppress a giggle.

Branch scowled, his frustration growing. "Shut up. I just know you'll avoid your friends too if they decide to avoid me," he fired back, a hint of defense in his voice. Willow couldn't deny the truth in his words; she had a tendency to mirror his behavior. "I just don’t want to end up living alone down here," he added, a touch of vulnerability breaking through his bravado.

Willow nodded in understanding as they gathered the Snack Pack and prepared to find Creek. It was a tight-knit group they had, and the thought of solitude was less than appealing for either of them.

"Well," Branch said, unfolding a sheet of music while Willow settled herself down at a comfortable distance from Creek, careful to remain within the radius of the group. He took a deep breath, the atmosphere suddenly charged with anticipation, and continued, "After a lot of thought, I’ve come to the conclusion that I owe Creek a big apology. Here goes." He raised the tiny harmonica to his lips and blew a soft, melodic tune, each note resonating with sincerity and hope for reconciliation.

(Branch)

Would you forgive me for

Everything I've done?

I didn't mean it

I should've seen that

I was hurting someone

You shine bright like the sun in the sky

On a beautiful day

You're enlightened but humble

And handsome and so very bra-a-ave

"That was lovely," Creek said. "But was that the entirety of your song, Branch?" Branch looked over the paper and groaned, annoyed.

I'm so sorry

Show me mercy

Oh, enlightened one

Oh, won't you forgive me?

Willow rolled her eyes dramatically as Creek enthusiastically forgave Branch, even though the moment lacked the emotional resonance of an A-sharp melody—the key Branch had been yearning for. The rest of the Snack Pack rallied around Creek, their cheers echoing off the bunker walls and creating a cacophony that made Willow's stomach turn.

"Well, that was nauseating," she muttered under her breath, rising from her seat as Poppy rushed to join Branch, her encouragement clear in her wide grin. Willow caught her brother's eye, a silent exchange of understanding passing between them. "I've spent too much time by Creek's side," she sighed, shaking her head. "I'll see you at home, okay?" Her brother nodded, a mix of concern and support crossing his face as he waved her off.

As she began to walk away, Creek called after her, his voice filled with confusion. "Willow, are you saying you still haven't forgiven me?"

She halted mid-step, turning slightly to face him while keeping her distance. "That's exactly what I'm saying," Willow replied, her voice steady and resolute. "And honestly, I don’t have to forgive you if I don’t want to." With that, she resumed her path back to the bunker, each step a mix of frustration and determination as she left behind the jovial atmosphere and the echoes of forgiveness that felt hollow to her.

It was three long days before Willow had to face Creek again, a time that had given her ample opportunity to stew in her frustration. She found a moment of peace by the river, the gentle sound of the water providing a serene backdrop to her turbulent thoughts. Just as she was beginning to lose herself in the tranquility, she spotted Creek approaching and a wave of annoyance washed over her. With a groan, she adjusted her sunglasses, glaring at him through the tinted lenses. “I thought you would be smart enough to leave me alone,” she said, her voice laced with irritation.

“I wanted to talk to you again about forgiving me,” Creek replied, his tone an awkward mix of hope and trepidation. Willow scoffed, pushing her sunglasses back onto her head, revealing her narrowed eyes. “I figured you might be more open to the idea if we did this away from everyone else,” he added, attempting to peel back the layers of tension.

“Away from Branch, you mean,” Willow corrected him, her voice flat. When it became clear that Creek wasn’t going anywhere, she sat up and crossed her arms defiantly. “Fine,” she relented, waving a hand in front of her as if inviting him to spill his thoughts. “The floor is yours.”

“I screwed up,” Creek admitted, his gaze dropping to the ground as guilt surfaced in his voice. “I was so terrified of dying that I was willing to do whatever it took to survive—even if that meant betraying the entire village.” His sincerity, however broken, hung in the air between them.

“You were,” Willow responded, her tone sharp as she glanced away, focusing on the swirling eddies of the river. “And you were foolish to think that Bergen would keep you safe after all the Trolls were captured. I don’t care what lies she spun for you; you know as well as I do that you were going to be useless after Trollstice.”

“I remember you telling me that,” Creek said, rubbing his neck instinctively as memories flooded back—memories of being strangled three times that fateful night. He sighed deeply, the weight of his regret settling heavily on his shoulders. “I’m truly sorry for betraying you and the village. I can't promise I won’t do it again if I think it will save me because, you know just as well as I do, I’ll do whatever it takes to save my own skin. But I can promise I’ll work on being braver from now on and try not to put myself in positions where that kind of choice is necessary.”

Willow sighed, the tension in her body slowly easing. She stood up, her posture softening slightly. “I accept your apology,” she stated, her tone cordial yet cautious. She raised a hand as he moved in for what he likely believed to be a reconciliatory hug. “However, let’s be clear; for the sake of the village, I will forgive you for your betrayal. I already told Poppy I’d let it go. But you and I both know the truth—I hated you long before you ever did that.”

Her glare bore into him like a daggers. “You’ve always been cruel to my brother. Forcing him to sing that ridiculous apology song that praises you is just the latest offense. And don’t pretend that you didn’t label me a monster after your first insult toward Branch. You made everyone fear me for the longest time, and even if you apologize for that, I will never forgive you for the role you played in turning my brother into the village pariah for the better part of twenty years.”

With those words hanging in the air, Willow turned away, the breeze rustling the leaves and carrying away the remnants of their tense conversation, leaving Creek to grapple with the weight of his actions.

Willow turned her back on Creek, the weight of their history pressing down on her shoulders. "Seriously, stay away from me and my brother," she said, her voice steady but laced with a tension that hinted at her underlying frustration. "You've done more than enough to us."

Creek let out a harsh laugh, his footsteps echoing behind her as he quickly closed the distance. "You seriously won't forgive me for something that happened years ago?" he challenged, a hint of disbelief in his tone. "What kind of Troll are you? Trolls are supposed to forgive; it’s in our nature."

Willow quickened her pace, the determination in her stride a stark contrast to the memories flooding her mind. She couldn’t let him catch her off guard. "Are you really even a Troll?” Creek pressed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe you and your brother were isolated for so long that you’ve lost touch with what it means to be one of us." His scoff echoed in the empty path behind her. "You know, that would make sense—neither of you seem willing to forgive so easily."

Willow bristled and turned around. She stormed up to Creek and punched him in the face. "Of course, we didn't forgive you!" She shouted, annoyed. "Why should we? You have been nothing but snide and rude ever since we met. And then you betrayed everyone and suddenly we're supposed to be friends after an apology? That's not how friendship works!" She glared down at him as he stood up, his nose bleeding. "And don't you dare insinuate my brother and I are lesser Trolls because we didn't forgive you. My brother is a better Troll than you'll ever be. If it was him captured, there's no way he would have betrayed the village to save himself."

Willow let out a heavy sigh as she glanced around, noticing the gathering crowd that was becoming increasingly curious about the scene unfolding before them. “At Queen Poppy's request, you’ve been granted forgiveness for the wrongs you’ve committed against our village,” she declared, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of frustration. “You are welcome to stay for as long as you live, but let me be perfectly clear—this is the very last time I will say this.”

She fixed him with a piercing glare, her eyes narrowing to emphasize her point. “I want absolutely nothing to do with you. From now on, I expect you to avoid me as if I were the plague. No talking to me, no glancing my way, not even standing on the same side of a gathering as me. I mean it.” The weight of her words hung in the air between them, leaving no room for misunderstanding. She smirked, vicious. "And if I hear that you made any mean or hurtful comments to or about my brother, I'll end you myself. Is that understood?" Creek gulped and nodded. "Good," Willow smiled cheerfully. "Then we're done here." She walked away, leaving Creek surrounded by the Snack Pack.

"Willow!" Poppy called out, her voice echoing as she sprinted toward her friend, a mix of concern and urgency in her tone. "What was that all about?" Her brow furrowed with worry. "Why did you scare Creek like that?"

Willow shrugged, her expression indifferent, yet there was a hint of mischief in her eyes. "He decided to bother me while I was trying to enjoy some peace and quiet to apologize," she replied coolly. "I just wanted to make sure he understood exactly where we stand." A thought crossed her mind, and she added, "But honestly, I’m curious how he even knew where to find me."

"I may have, um, mentioned it to him," Poppy admitted, her cheeks flushing slightly as she caught the startled look on Willow's face. When Willow raised an eyebrow, Poppy hurried to explain. "I thought it might be a good idea to give him a chance to make things right with you. If he could just explain his side and apologize, maybe you’d be willing to forgive him."

Willow’s glare intensified, her frustration palpable. "I specifically told you and the others to keep him away from me!" she snapped. "Did you think that was just a suggestion? How could you just ignore that?"

Poppy winced at the sharpness in Willow's voice. "I was trying to help you let go of the anger you hold toward Creek," she defended, searching for the right words. "You can’t blame me for wanting that, can you?"

"You crossed a clear and direct boundary, Poppy," Willow said, her voice steady but hurt. She turned away, crossing her arms in a protective gesture. "This isn't just about me being mad; it's about respect. What you did was not okay."

Poppy flinched at the tone Willow used, which felt like a sting. Taking a deep breath, she approached her friend cautiously. "You're right," she conceded, her eyes softening. She reached up and placed a gentle hand on Willow’s shoulder, trying to convey sincerity. "I should have never sent Creek to talk to you. It was wrong of me, especially after you clearly told us to keep him away. I’m truly sorry for that, and I promise I won’t ever do something like that again."

As Willow turned to face her, Poppy offered a hopeful smile. "I promise, I will always respect your boundaries from now on. You mean so much to me as a friend, and I would never intentionally hurt you like this again."

Willow sighed, her expression softening slightly although remaining serious. "I’m still really mad at you," she warned, a small smile creeping onto her face when she saw Poppy’s downcast expression. "But I forgive you. Just give me some time to sort through my feelings, alright?"

Poppy’s eyes lit up, a grin breaking across her face. "Really?" she squealed, joy flooding her voice as she wrapped her arms around Willow in a tight hug when she nodded. "Okay! I’ll give you as much time as you need." She pulled back just enough to look into Willow's eyes, a hint of desperation in her expression. "Just promise it won’t take forever, okay?"

Willow chuckled, returning the embrace with warmth. "Of course not," she replied, her spirit lifting. After all, Trolls are known for their ability to forgive, especially when it comes to friends.

Chapter Text

"There is one thing I know, which is truth: that all us Trolls have a sweet tooth. But the tasty treat we hold most dear, the marshtato, comes but once a year. On the foggiest night, when there's no moon, a visitor flies through the gloom. On gossamer wings, light and airy, planting her sweets, it's the Marshtato Fairy! But she only visits Trolls with Marshtato Day spirit, so lift up your voice so the fairy can hear it!" Willow grinned from where she was sitting as she listened to her friend reading her poem to the younger children.

The little Trollings cheered loudly as Poppy closed the book. "Queen Poppy," Keith raised his hand. "Do you worry the fairy won't see our Marshtato Day spirit since she lives up on Hill Mountain?"

Poppy grinned at Keith after looking towards the mountain. "Nope." That seemed to be the right answer , as Keith agreed. "And do you know why you shouldn't worry?" Poppy asked the Trollings.

"Because the rocks tell her," DJ Suki's niece CJ said, grinning. "They're the Marshtato Fairy's friends!"

"So we paint faces on them to remind us that they're watching," Priscella, the other Trolling of their group, added as she pointed to a pile of rocks with faces.

"That's right," Poppy said, putting her scrapbook back in her hair. "Every Marshtato's Eve, the foggiest night of the year, we make sure the rocks see us participating in all the fun marshtato traditions, like decorating, burping the alphabet, and the fairy's favorite activity of all," Poppy stood on a plush stage. "Time for the Marshtato's Eve group hug, everyone! Everyone, in formation!"

Willow grinned as she joined the crowd. "This is my favorite activity," she told the Trollings. They smiled as they counted down. Poppy stopped as soon as Branch walked by with his wheelbarrow full of gardening tools.

"Branch?" Poppy asked, confused. "Uh, what are you doing? You should be joining the Marshtato's Eve group hug."

" I'm headed to the Marshtato Patch," Branch said, tugging one of the fake wings Poppy was wearing. "Figured I'd stake out my picking area before everyone else does." He looked at his sister. "Willow, you coming?"

Willow nodded. "I'll be there later. Wanna finish with the activities first."

Branch shrugged. "Suit yourself." He kicked up his rake and let it fall back into the wheelbarrow.

"Branch, come on!" Poppy stepped in front of him. "If the Marshtato Fairy doesn't think you have enough spirit, she might not come!"

"Oh, don't worry about that," Branch shrugged. "I'm confident she won't find out because she doesn't exist." Willow sighed as the rest of the Trolls gasped. Of course, he had to say that. "Oh, please !" He said exasperated. "Marshtatoes are plants, people. On the foggiest night of the year, they grow out of the ground naturally . Everything else in this crazy holiday is just weird superstition."

Poppy grabbed Branch's ankle with her hair as he tried to walk away and pulled him down. "Super?" She asked, grinning. "Yes. Stition? No."

"Yeah," Smidge agreed from behind Poppy. "More like stish-fun!"

"Oh!" Guy Diamond appeared. "You just got served!"

"Let me go!" Branch said, irritated at the pink hair around his ankle.

"Too slow!" Poppy wrapped him up in her hair. Branch started fighting the ball of hair he was wrapped up in.

Willow rolled her eyes and walked up behind Poppy. "Let him go, Poppy. If he doesn't want to be a part of the Marshtato Eve festivities , he shouldn't have to ."

"But what about the Marshtato Fairy?" Poppy argued.

"Fine!" Branch huffed. "What if I prove the Marshtato Fairy doesn't exist? Then will you let me enjoy my marshtatoes without all the rigmarole ?"

"Okay, first, great word," Poppy grinned. "I'm gonna use 'rigmarole' more often. Second, what do I get if you can't prove she's not real?"

"Then every year, from here on out," Branch began. "I'll lead the Marshtato Day hug myself." He held his hair out for Poppy to shake.

"You've got one rigmarole of a deal," Poppy smiled, shaking his hair.

"That's not how you use it," Branch denied.

Willow watched with an amused smile as her brother and friend walked away arguing about the Marshtato Fairy. "Willow?" Keith approached her, concern etched across his small face. "Is the Marshtato Fairy real?"

Kneeling to meet his gaze, Willow observed the mix of curiosity and apprehension in Keith and his friends' eyes. She could sense the weight of their worries, particularly about what Branch had told them. "You're really worried about what Branch said, aren't you?" she asked gently. As they nodded, she settled onto the soft grass, gesturing for them to join her in a circle. 

"The Marshtato Fairy is real," she assured them, her voice warm and inviting. "But I need you to not worry about that. Think back to Marshtato Days in previous years. If the marshtatoes were just ordinary plants, wouldn’t they pop up more than one day a year?" She flashed a playful grin at the Trollings, who looked both confused and intrigued. "We have the same traditions every year, and every year, without fail, we are rewarded with a bounty of marshtatoes. That means we're doing something right! And as for Branch not participating, don’t let that bother you. He didn't join in the past either, and we still ended up with plenty of marshtatoes."

Standing up with a renewed energy, Willow exclaimed, "So, let’s all remember to show our Marshtato Day spirit, kids! When we wake up in the morning, we’ll be greeted by a whole bunch of marshtatoes!" Her excitement was contagious, and soon the Trollings cheered with exuberance before dashing off to engage in their festivities.

With a satisfied smile, Willow turned her attention toward the nearby marshtato field, hoping to find her brother Branch and their friend Poppy. She had thought they would be waiting for her there, but as she scanned the sprawling expanse of green, her frown deepened. "Branch? Poppy?" she called out, her voice tinged with worry. "Where are you two?" 

Just then, she felt a sudden tug on her arm that pulled her backward. Turning in surprise, she found herself face to face with her brother and Poppy. "Oh, hey, guys!" Willow exclaimed, relief flooding her as she took in their amused expressions. "What’s going on? Why are we hiding in Branch’s hair?"

Poppy grinned mischievously, her eyes sparkling with mirth. "We don’t want the Marshtato Fairy to spot us!" 

Willow felt a laugh bubbling up inside her. "That makes perfect sense,” she replied, nodding. “She is quite shy, after all."

Branch rolled his eyes dramatically. "Are you guys serious? Don’t tell me you actually believe in the Marshtato Fairy too." He sighed as Willow gave a nonchalant shrug. "Well, I’m going to gather proof that she doesn’t exist. You can just hang out with us while we wait."

Rolling her eyes in a playful display of exasperation, Willow sat down on the soft grass beside her brother and Poppy. She closed her eyes, the gentle rustle of leaves and distant laughter of other Trollings lulling her into comfort. "Wake me up when you have some proof," she murmured, already drifting into a light slumber.

Poppy and Branch exchanged amused glances as Willow nestled comfortably between them, seemingly unfazed by the chaos around her. "She can sleep anywhere, can’t she?" Poppy remarked, her tone a blend of admiration and disbelief.

Branch chuckled softly, shaking his head. "It's a talent for sure. We found it pretty handy when we were first crafting the bunker. Willow would just lay down on the ground and drift off, completely carefree, while I worked to set everything up." 

His eyes wandered to the expansive marshtato field, a wave of nostalgia washing over him as he recalled the purpose behind their gathering. "Now, the task at hand is to prove that the Marshtato Fairy isn’t real," he said, determination flickering in his eyes.

Poppy sighed and leaned forward to watch for the Marshtato Fairy with Branch. This was going to be a long night. When morning came, the trio woke to cheers in the distance. "I'm awake!" Branch shouted, lifting his hair from around the group.

The trio stood together with a mix of excitement and concern as the Trolls hurriedly gathered the freshly grown marshtatoes from the lush fields. Willow, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, broke free from Branch and Poppy and dashed toward the vibrant patch, her laughter filling the air. "This is the best day of the year!" she exclaimed, her arms full of the plump, earthy treats.

Branch looked out toward the imposing silhouette of Hill Mountain looming in the distance. "We’re going to the top of Hill Mountain so I can show you that no one lives up there," he declared, turning to Willow with a hopeful expression. “Are you coming?”

Willow shook her head energetically, a playful smile fading as she placed her marshtatoes down. She turned to Branch, her voice tinged with concern. "Nope. I really don’t think you should go either, bro."

"But I can prove that the Marshtato Fairy isn’t real," Branch insisted, determination igniting his eyes. "I need to prove it."

"But why does it matter?" Willow asked, frustration creeping into her tone. “Who cares if the Marshtato Fairy is real or not?”

"I do!" Branch and Poppy chimed together, the weight of their conviction hanging in the air.

Willow raised her hands in a calming gesture, momentarily taken aback by their fervor. She had forgotten how passionately they could get about their beliefs. "Poppy, could I talk to my brother for a moment?" she requested, gently pulling Branch away from the group. “Look, I know you’re eager to prove this,” she said, her eyes softening as she looked at her brother. “But I need you to consider what you’re trying to do. Who does it hurt if the Trolls around here believe in the Marshtato Fairy?”

“Do you believe in it?” Branch asked, his eyebrows furrowing in curiosity.

“It doesn’t really matter what I believe,” Willow replied, glancing at the distant mountain that Branch was so intent on climbing. “The Trolls in our village do, and it gives them hope and something to look forward to.” She beamed with warmth. "It's part of the fun of our traditions, too." 

As Branch's brow furrowed deeper, Willow let out a sigh, realizing he wasn’t likely to change his mind. “Listen, when you get up there and you find out whatever it is you’re going to find, can you promise to keep it to yourself if you don’t see anything?” she asked pleadingly. When Branch opened his mouth to protest, she continued, “This is a joyful holiday, and believing in a fairy is half the joy. That’s more important than being right. Please, don’t ruin it for everyone else.”

Branch's scowl deepened. “But being right is very important,” he asserted stubbornly. “I have to show everyone that the Marshtato Fairy isn’t real. It’s just a fantasy!”

Willow gave him a resigned shrug, knowing she was at an impasse. “Fine, but I’m still not going up there with you.” She turned back to the patch and reclaimed her pile of marshtatoes. “I’ll see you when you get back. Just… be careful.”

After stashing her newly gathered marshtatoes in the bunker, Willow noticed Branch’s pile was dwindling. Knowing he might miss out while he was atop the mountain, she groaned and added more marshtatoes to his stash. “Dang it, Branch. You just couldn’t leave well enough alone, could you?”

Frustration coiled tightly in her chest. It was rare for her to be upset with her brother, and it always left her feeling guilty. After all, he was family, and they were supposed to support each other no matter what. But Branch was fixated on this far-fetched mission, ignoring her pleas.

Did she really believe in the Marshtato Fairy? If she was honest with herself, probably not. It seemed far-fetched, especially since she had lived with Branch for twenty years and knew how he dismissed such fantasies. Yet the festival spirit of their village brought her joy, and she cherished being part of that celebration.

For her, it was vital to preserve the spirit of the holiday for the Trollings in the village. After all, they were the reason they had traditions to celebrate, right? Tradition, joy, and family were the threads that wove their village’s happiness. If Branch were to destroy that cheer for the children, what would replace it?

Willow sighed, shaking her head as she dropped her shoulders in resignation. “Nothing I can do about it now,” she muttered, making her way to the platform where she planned to relax. "Branch will do what he wants regardless of what I say." With that, she walked toward the marshtato patch, ready to unwind and savor a marshtato with her friends.

Her attention was suddenly drawn upwards when she heard CJ’s exuberant shout. "It's the Marshtato Fairy!" Willow's eyes widened as she saw a light pink, sparkly orb hovering in the sky, shimmering against the bright blue backdrop. She tilted her head, perplexed. Wasn’t the fairy supposed to be shy? Why was she putting on such a show?

As she approached the excited throng of Trolls surrounding the light, a tiny fairy-like creature burst forth from the glistening sparkles, wielding a megaphone with an air of confidence. "Hello, elves!" she announced, eliciting gasps from the crowd. Willow raised an eyebrow, feeling uneasy. She preferred the shy, gentle fairy. This one seemed brash and inappropriate. 

"I understand you've been searching for the Marshtato Fairy," the new fairy said with a smirk, and the Trolls cheered enthusiastically. "Well, I’m here to tell you that there is no fairy. There’s just me, Marshtato Mary!" The newly introduced Mary tossed the megaphone aside and landed among the crowd. "And I don’t come down to 'bless' you all with marshtatoes. I take them in the dead of night, all for myself!" With a mocking flourish, she snatched a marshtato from CJ’s hands, emphasizing her point. "Which means your entire holiday is based on a lie!"

Willow approached CJ with a determined stride, clutching a plump marshtato in her hands. "I don't believe you," she declared, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized the fairy's mischievous grin. "You can't possibly be the Marshtato Fairy. You're just trying to ruin our holiday."

The fairy erupted in laughter, her voice twinkling like chimes in the breeze. "There is no Marshtato Fairy!" she exclaimed, clutching her own marshtato protectively. 

"Liar!" Branch's voice rang out, drawing the attention of the other Trolls who were momentarily distracted by their festive preparations. They turned just in time to see Branch, hilariously encased in a massive marshtato and precariously balanced on top of a colorful mushroom. 

"Smidge?" Willow’s gaze darted towards her friend, who was bravely beginning to gnaw her way through the thick coating of the marshtato, oblivious to its peculiarities. As soon as Smidge managed to free him, Branch flashed her a grateful smile, his eyes full of appreciation. Then he turned to face Mary, the fairy. "Mary here has just uttered one very true thing. She is *not* the Marshtato Fairy." 

Gasps rippled through the group of Trolls, their eyes widening in disbelief. "She's the Marshtato Fairy's arch-enemy!" Branch continued, reveling in their shocked expressions. Willow beamed as she saw the children's faces light up with the revelation. Her heart swelled with pride for her brother. "She's been trying to trick you into doubting the fairy's existence because she can't stand how much we adore her," he added, his voice raising with excitement.

Willow’s grin stretched wider as she sidled up beside Branch, feeling a wave of determination surge through her. "Well, we can’t let that happen, can we, kids?" she rallied, her voice infectious.

Branch’s expression softened into a playful smile. "Quick! We need to act if we want to beat her!" He hopped onto a platform that had been brought over by one of the other Trolls to reach the crowd. “Are you saying...?” Poppy ventured closer, her curiosity piqued.

“Exactly!” Branch shouted, his eyes gleaming with inspiration. “We need to show her just as much love as we give to the fairy!” He motioned for the Trolls to gather around. “Everyone in formation!” 

The Trolls eagerly fell into a group hug formation, their hearts pounding with excitement and camaraderie. “Hug!” Branch ordered, and they enveloped Mary in a warm, collective embrace. The surge of love from the group enveloped her, and soon enough, she burst out of the pile, showered in pink glitter, and soared back up the mountain in a whirlwind of sparkles.

The Trolls erupted into cheers, their voices echoing joyfully as they gathered around Branch, who stood proudly, basking in the triumph. Poppy and Willow clambered up the platform to stand triumphantly beside their brother. "Looks like you were wrong about the fairy, Branch," Poppy teased, a playful glimmer in her eye.

Branch shrugged nonchalantly, reaching for a marshtato. “You said it yourself, she does exist,” he replied, pulling the marshtato in half and handing Poppy the other half for her to enjoy.

Later, after the celebration had come to a close and Willow and Branch made their way back to the bunker, the atmosphere shifted to a more serious tone. Willow glanced at her brother, her voice laced with nervous curiosity. “So, did you actually find a fairy up on the mountain?” she asked, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and apprehension, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer.

Branch paused, weighing his options carefully. He could choose to reveal the truth—the Marshtato Fairy was merely a figment of myth, and marshtatoes grew year-round. He knew how much Willow cherished learning new things, and perhaps she could handle the reality behind one of her favorite holidays. But as he thought back to her earlier comments, he realized that the belief in the fairy wasn’t hurting anyone. It brought his little sister so much delight, lighting up her imagination and enhancing her holiday spirit.

He couldn’t bring himself to take away that joy. So, with a warm smile, he leaned back in his chair, basking in the comfort of the moment. “Yeah, she was just sleeping, so she didn’t notice I was there,” he lied gently, wishing to preserve her happiness. “Don’t worry, the Marshtato Fairy should be back next year.”

The relief that washed over Willow’s face was palpable, illuminating her features as she excitedly started to chatter about all the delectable treats she planned to create with the marshtatoes she had gathered. In that moment, Branch felt a surge of contentment. The Marshtato Fairy might not be real, but believing in her didn’t harm anyone. After all, the essence of the holiday lay in the joy of belief and imagination. And sometimes, that was half the fun.

Chapter Text

Poppy was renowned throughout Troll Village as a master gift-giver. Each Troll knew her thoughtful approach to selecting presents, a process she cherished deeply. Poppy dedicated countless hours to researching every little detail about her friends, ensuring that each gift she chose came straight from the heart. For Willow, she painstakingly crafted a replica of a cozy sweater that her grandmother had lovingly knitted for her during the chilly winter months. The moment Willow slipped it on, a wave of nostalgia washed over her, and though she would never admit it aloud, tears would often escape her eyes. Each wear felt like being enveloped in a warm hug from her grandma, filling her with comfort and fond memories.

So, it was no surprise when the Poppy Present Support Group convened, welcoming Branch as its newest member. Willow's smile brightened when he settled down beside her, and she leaned in, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "You too?" she inquired, her voice laced with curiosity. With a soft smile, Branch held up Crocko, the little plush creature that had been lost. “She found it?” Willow gasped, her surprise evident. The excitement in the air was palpable as the group started to share their stories of thoughtful gifts and cherished memories.

"Yeah, in the tunnels," Branch confirmed. He looked up when Smidge said he needed to share something. He smiled. "Hi. My name's Branch and I received a gift from Poppy."

"Hi, Branch," Willow said with the other members.

Branch sighed and clutched Crocko. "I mentioned Crocko once, six months ago, in passing. How did she remember that?"

"Oof," Biggie said. "So personal."

"I know," Branch nodded. "And now her half-birthday is almost here." He stood up. "What chance do mere Trolls have against thoughtfulness of this magnitude?"

"We've been there," Satin and Chenille said. They told the group the story of Poppy getting them a conjoined sewing machine so they could sew simultaneously and not have to fight over the machine.

"And I know I'll never live up to what she did for me," Biggie added with his story of a giant Mr. Dinkles costume.

"Then there's the gift she gave me," Smidge said, telling them about the B.F.F trophy Poppy gave her.

Willow nodded thoughtfully and gently pulled out the vibrant sweater that had been gifted to her. Its soft fabric hugged her as she wrapped it around herself, the cheerful rainbow pattern brightening her expression. "I don't even recall mentioning this sweater to her," she mused, a warm smile spreading across her face. "How can we possibly find a gift that feels as special and deserving as Poppy?"

"Guys, we are not gonna come up short this time," Branch said, determined. He jumped off the mushroom he was sitting on. "Someone has to have an idea for a gift Poppy would like."

Smidge gasped. "I've got just the thing." She ran and pulled on a cord. A pinata shaped like Poppy came down. "The Poppy pinata!" She grabbed a stick from her hair. "See, we give Poppy a stick, and then.." she started beating the pinata until it broke apart and candy fell out.

Willow grimaced. "I think that sends the wrong message," She told Smidge when she stopped.

Smidge looked at the horror on her friends' faces and back to the pinata. "Oh, my guh! What was I thinking?"

"Guys, we could give her a group gift," Biggie suggested.

"No!" The other Trolls denied . "Then we're each giving her a fraction of a gift!" Satin said, standing up. "That would be like someone only saying a fraction of 'I love you.'"

Chenille looked at Biggie to show him what they meant. "I lo -" When she didn't finish the words, he panicked and started shaking her as he begged her to finish the saying.

Biggie broke down sobbing before he stood up. "You're right. Group gifts are the worst."

Willow frowned. What was she going to do? She couldn't just get Poppy nothing after all the love and care Poppy had put into her present.

"  Guys  it's gonna be okay," Branch assured. "But we have to focus. It's not like the perfect gift idea  is gonna  fall out of a tree." And just like that, DJ Suki fell out of a tree behind Branch.

"Guys!" DJ yelled  running  up to them. "I've got the perfect gift idea! See, I was at the market, eating a sandwich, when I overheard Poppy talking to the florist." She told the gathered Trolls about Poppy asking about a flower she had seen when she was little. "So that's when it hit me. What if we gave her a sandwich?" She pulled a sandwich from her hair.

The group looked at her confused before Branch grinned. "DJ, you got it." Willow looked at Branch confused . He wanted to give Poppy a sandwich? "No, no, no. Not the sandwich," Branch corrected when he saw the confusion on everyone's faces. We could all go find the flowers." Ah, that made more sense.

"I'll give her a bouquet in a vase!" Chenille said, raising her hand.

"I'll weave some into a crown!" Satin added.

"I'll also make a personalized gift!" Smidge said, determined.

"But how do we know which kind of flower she means?" Biggie asked.

"We need to ask someone who knows everything about Poppy," Satin said.  This led to the group finding  Poppy's dad, King Peppy to ask about the flower.

"Ah, yes," King Peppy said, smiling. "I remember it like it was yesterday. I woke up, had a cupcake-flavored muffin, went on a hike with Branch--"

Branch raised an eyebrow. "That  was  yesterday."

"Right!" The old king confirmed. "Wait, what are we talking about again?"

"Poppy's flowers!" The group shouted  frustrated  . Willow groaned. "This is going to take forever," she muttered to herself.

"Oh, yes!" The king said, grinning. "That would make an excellent gift. If it would help, I can draw one from memory." He pulled out a pen and paper and drew a flower. Willow looked at it unamused. "It doesn't look like anything," she deadpanned.

"Hmm,  apparently  my memory's terrible," Peppy admitted tapping his head. He walked over to the bookcase. "You know, I might have a picture of the flowers in Poppy's baby scrapbook." He pulled out a scrapbook. "Which is  good,  because my memory's terrible." He pulled out a picture of the flowers Poppy wanted.

The group of friends looked at the picture in awe. "I can see why Poppy wants to see them again," Willow said, nodding.

"I know!" Peppy said, smiling. "With this, I can draw the flower perfectly." The old king began to draw a picture of the flower.

Branch walked up to the king. "No, we don't," the king kept drawing. "If we have," the king continued to ignore Branch. He sighed. "Never mind. Where did you take this?" He asked, pulling up the picture.

Peppy smiled. "Lucky for you, I  make sure  all my scrapbooks contain comprehensive maps." He pulled a page out of the scrapbook. "It says  here,  we found them in Budding Valley, in a cave called the Flotto of the Growers." The Trolls looked at the old king, confused. "Oh, sorry. Got a little tongue-tied. The Grotto of the Flowers."

Willow nodded. "Then that's where we need to go," She  said  determined. "Ready guys?" The group nodded.

"Thanks, King Peppy," Branch said. "I'm just gonna take this." He grabbed the map. King Peppy nodded and wished the group good luck on their journey.

The journey was long.  They had to go through a field of  Grossoms ,   that were  ready to attack them, a field filled with birds that drank nectar from a flower that looked suspiciously like Troll hair, and kabloom shrooms that threw them into a tree near the Grotto.

Willow leaned against a tree, exhausted. "These flowers better be worth it," she muttered.

Branch perked up. "I think we found the cave," he said, excited. The group got up and walked over to the cave. "It wasn't easy, but we finally made it." He pulled the picture up. "The Grotto of Flowers."

When the group looked at the Grotto, however, there was only one flower left. "There's only one left?" DJ asked, surprised.

"We can't all give her just one flower!" Willow exclaimed, her frustration evident as she sauntered over to the lone bloom, vibrant and radiant in the sunlight. She let out a soft sigh, wishing there were a way for each of her friends to contribute something special. After snapping a quick picture of the flower to capture its beauty, she began to walk away, but the sound of her friends' voices drew her attention. They were bickering animatedly about who would have the honor of giving Poppy the flower. With curiosity, Willow found herself wondering aloud, "I wonder where Harper is right now?"

Determined to find her friend, Willow sped along the path back to the village, mindful of the lurking Grossoms and swooping birds that often interrupted her journey. Upon reaching the village, she caught sight of Branch and the others surrounding Poppy, presenting her with the flower as a symbol of their friendship. Willow felt a warm smile spread across her face as she watched Poppy's eyes light up. "Your friendship means the world to me," Poppy expressed earnestly, her voice filled with emotion. "You guys are the best gift I could ever ask for."

"Well, that's good to know," Willow murmured to herself, feeling a mix of joy for her friends and a twinge of longing. She glanced around, realizing she still needed Harper. The village artist had a unique talent for bringing things to life with her paintbrush, and Willow needed her creative touch for a special project.

Eventually, Willow found Harper by the river, enraptured in painting a tranquil water scene. The water shimmered under the sun, mirroring the soft blues and greens of the landscape. "Hey, Harper!" Willow called out, waving her hand.

Harper looked up, her face breaking into a warm smile. "Hey, Willow! What’s going on?" she asked, setting down her brush.

With excitement, Willow showed Harper the picture she had captured. "I need your help! Can you paint a scene with these guys?" She pointed to the picture of the Snack Pack and Branch, imagining it enhanced by Harper's artistic flair, with the blossoming trees in the backdrop.

Harper tilted her head, pondering for a moment. "I think I can definitely do that!" She beamed, her eyes sparkling with inspiration. "But in return, I’ll need some flavorberry cupcakes."

Willow grimaced at the thought. Flavorberries were notoriously elusive, often guarded by quickglitter that made it treacherous to get close. Yet, the sacrifice felt worthwhile for a gift meant for Poppy. "Deal!" she exclaimed, sealing their agreement with a firm handshake. "Do you think you can have it done by the end of the day?"

Harper nodded confidently, and Willow set off with renewed determination to gather the flavorberries.

Reaching the grove of flavorberry trees, a frown furrowed her brows as she contemplated the best approach. Her eyes zeroed in on a fallen log nearby, and a grin spread across her face. Perfect! Willow quickly shoved the log into the quickglitter and skillfully ran across it, feeling a rush of adrenaline. Using her long hair like a vine, she climbed into the tree and deftly picked several ripe flavorberries, their sweet aroma filling the air. With her bounty in hand, she leaped back onto the log just before the quickglitter engulfed it, managing to make it safely to the shore. "Now, to make some cupcakes," she declared triumphantly, her heart racing with excitement for what lay ahead.

Two hours later, in the cozy warmth of the bunker, Branch stumbled upon Willow deeply engrossed in baking. The rich aroma of vanilla and sugar wafted through the air as he found her carefully pulling a tray of cupcakes out of the oven. "Hey, sis," he called with a grin, wiping his hands on his jeans. "We missed you when we were giving Poppy her flower. What have you been up to?"

Willow looked up from her task, her face lighting up as she heard her brother’s voice. "Oh, hey, bro!" she replied, a broad smile breaking across her face. She turned her attention back to the mixing bowl, vigorously stirring together ingredients for the frosting. "I’ve just been busy with this little project. I'm making cupcakes for Harper’s help with a present for Poppy."

Branch tilted his head, a hint of concern creeping into his expression. "We told her you helped with the flower," he reminded her. "She loved it and asked me to pass on her thanks to you." He hesitated, sensing Willow's tendency to pour herself into creating the perfect gift. "You know you don’t need to get her anything else, right?"

Willow paused her mixing, her gaze softening as she looked at Branch. "Thanks for thinking of me when you gave Poppy the flower," she said sincerely. Turning back to her task, she added, "But this isn’t just about the flower anymore." She carefully pulled the cupcakes from the oven, letting them cool on the rack. "I saw how much it meant to Poppy when she expressed her feelings about friendship to all of us. I thought I could give her something special to show how much her friendship means to all of us."

"What do you mean, 'us?'" Branch asked, intrigued and curious about the inclusivity in Willow’s plan.

Willow's eyes sparkled with excitement as she explained, "I thought it could be a group gift—like a collective effort from all of us. I wanted to run the idea by everyone before finalizing the present with Harper." She finished icing the last cupcake and raised an eyebrow at Branch playfully. "What do you say? Want to join in?"

A grin spread across Branch’s face. "Absolutely!" he replied with enthusiasm. The two siblings gathered their friends, sharing Willow’s delightful idea about the present, even though she hadn’t yet revealed the details. To her relief, her friends expressed nothing but enthusiasm and support for her thoughtful endeavor.

With a sense of camaraderie, the group headed toward a sunlit corner where Harper was engrossed in her painting quest. "So, are you going to tell us what the present is?" Biggie chimed in, unable to contain his curiosity.

Willow shook her head slightly, a playful smile on her lips. "I think it’s better if I show you!" She eagerly approached Harper, who was already grinning at the sight of the cupcakes.

"Thanks for the cupcakes!" Harper said, her eyes lighting up. She then unfurled a long piece of canvas, looking for Willow’s approval. "Is this what you were going for?"

Willow accepted the painting, holding it up for all her friends to see. It depicted a vibrant bouquet of Poppy's favorite flowers, lovingly surrounded by portraits of Poppy surrounded by all their friends, bringing the artwork to life with rich colors and joyful expressions. "This is incredible!" Willow exclaimed, her heart swelling with pride.

"Now that is a fantastic present!" Branch nodded in agreement, a satisfied smile gracing his face as the rest of the group echoed their agreement, excitement bubbling within them.

With hearts full of anticipation, the friends collectively made their way to Poppy’s pod, each step carrying a sense of purpose. They arrived and knocked gently on her door, which opened almost instantly, revealing Poppy's bright smile.

"Hey, guys," she greeted, tilting her head in a mix of curiosity and confusion. "What brings you all here?"

Willow stepped forward, holding out the specially decorated box containing the artwork. "We got you something," she said, her voice warm with anticipation. She watched as Poppy accepted the box, her fingers excitedly working on the lid. "I know you received that lovely flower earlier today, but we thought it would mean more if we added something special to it. This is to remind you how much your friendship means to all of us."

Poppy’s eyes widened in delight as she unveiled the painting. "And it even features the flower you all got me!" she exclaimed, grinning from ear to ear. "Aw, you guys! You really didn’t have to do this, but I’m so grateful that you did." As she opened her door wider, welcoming them inside, she found the perfect spot to hang her new treasure.

"Now I’ll always have you here with me," she said, her voice filled with emotion, her eyes glistening with gratitude as she looked at her friends. "And these beautiful flowers will be here all year round."

In a heartfelt moment, she wrapped her arms around her friends, pulling them into a warm hug. "Thank you so much for being my friends, you guys."

Chapter Text

Willow and Branch had settled into a cozy corner of Poppy’s vibrant pod, surrounded by the cheerful decor that always seemed to brighten even the gloomiest of days. They were enjoying the warmth of friendship when a brightly colored card floated in, delivered with the glee of a small gust of wind. Poppy, ever the enthusiast, eagerly grabbed it. Upon examining the card, she raised her eyebrows in curiosity. "Huh," she said, handing it to Willow, who couldn’t help but chuckle. The card featured an illustration of Bridget and King Gristle, with the word 'Wednesday' playfully written in the background. "Well, that's consistent," Willow remarked with a smirk.

Willow gently set the card among the others they had received over the past weeks, an amusing collection that was slowly turning into a testament to their friends' whimsical sense of time. "At this rate," Willow chirped with a gleam in her eye, "we could make an entire calendar out of these!" She smiled at the assortment of days—each card a mini celebration of friendship.

However, not all was as lighthearted with Branch. Poppy turned her attention toward him, frowning slightly at his reflection in the mirror. He was glaring and snarling at his own image, an expression of intense concentration. "Branch," she said, stepping closer with a mix of concern and curiosity. "What are you doing? Are you about to... barf? Should I get a trash can?" The idea of her friend being unwell filled her with worry.

Branch looked at her, utterly bewildered. "What? No! I'm just... practicing my smile," he admitted, crossing his arms defiantly. "You know, I'm still getting the hang of this whole 'being happy' thing."

Poppy’s expression shifted from alarm to understanding. "Oh," she said, a smile spreading across her face as she relaxed. "Well, let me help you with that. Smiles are my jam." As Willow watched in amusement, Poppy leaned in, attempting to adjust Branch's face into something she thought resembled a smile. The result, however, was more of a painful grimace than anything resembling joy.

"Is that a smile?" Willow burst out laughing. "Your face looks stuck! Bro, you can’t just... force a smile!" She playfully nudged Poppy aside and then squished Branch’s cheeks together before gently pulling them downwards. "If you force it, it'll look insincere and might even hurt your face," she said, her tone softening. "You’ve smiled so many times before; just relax."

Branch nodded, albeit vaguely, as he turned his gaze back to the colorful cards adorning the walls. "What’s the deal with all these cards, anyway?" he asked, picking one off the wall. The bright letters read 'Monday,' 'Friday,' and even 'Sunday Mid-Morning.'

Poppy's expression shifted into one of empathy as she contemplated the card Branch held. "It's like, ever since Trollstice got canceled, the Bergens don’t have anything to look forward to," she said, her voice tinged with sadness. As her eyes scanned the wall of cards, a sudden gasp escaped her lips, and a bright idea sparked in her mind. "Ooh!"

Branch's eyes widened in alarm, recognizing that particular glint in Poppy's gaze. "Oh no," he muttered, bracing himself. "I know that look. You're about to hatch some elaborate plan that involves a lot of hugging, singing, dancing, and… glitter."

"You know it!" Poppy replied, her enthusiasm bubbling over.

"Okay," Branch said, taking a step back as he and Willow made their way to the exit of Poppy's pod. "Promise me you’ll sleep on this before you rush into something like you always do." He turned to her with a serious expression, hoping she would heed his advice.

Poppy clasped her hands together in a mock-serious gesture, looking off to the side with feigned innocence. "I won’t do anything, I promise."

Willow let out a snort as she trotted behind Branch toward the bunker. "You know she’s not going to sleep, right?"

Branch rolled his eyes in exasperation. "Yeah, we’re probably headed for some ridiculous adventure tomorrow." He couldn’t suppress a smile at the thought, knowing all too well that whatever Poppy planned, it would undoubtedly be a day filled with fun and friendship.

(Branch)

Just call me angel of the morning, Angel

Just touch my cheek before you leave me, baby

I'm going down into the bunker, Angel

and I'd be sipping on coffee in the morning, baby

"Good morning, Branch!" Poppy called cheerfully as she bounded into the cozy living room, her voice bright and full of energy. Meanwhile, Branch, caught off guard, gasped mid-sip and quickly jumped to the side, his coffee flying from his cup.

Willow, comfortably nestled on the couch with a steaming mug in her hands and her nose buried in a book, looked up with a teasing smile. "Poppy's here," she remarked, her tone teasingly casual.

Branch shot a look at his sister, unamused by her nonchalant attitude. "Thanks for the warning, sis," he said, trying to catch his breath. Willow responded with a playful salute, her attention quickly returning to the pages of her book.

Turning his gaze back to Poppy, Branch let out a tired sigh. "You didn’t sleep on that, did you?" he asked, eyeing her animated disposition.

Poppy grinned widely, her excitement palpable. "Of course not! And I’ve got a wild plan brewing!"

Branch rolled his eyes, a weary smile creeping onto his face. "Let me guess: it involves a crazy plan for the Bergens?"

Poppy nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling. "Exactly! They need a new holiday, and who better to create one than us? We’ll just gift them one of our own celebrations!"

Willow chimed in, closing her book with a thud. She rose from the couch, her expression shifting to one of playful admonition. "Before you ask," she interjected, "I didn’t give her sugar this morning, and she also didn’t share this idea with me before now."

Branch dusted off his shirt, still not entirely convinced of this spontaneous scheme. "And why are we doing this, exactly?" he asked, crossing his arms and raising an eyebrow.

"Because," Poppy replied with passionate certainty, "Bridget is my best friend, and the Bergens deserve a day filled with dancing, singing, costumes, and presents—complete with glitter, of course!" With that, she grabbed Branch’s coffee cup, poured some of her own steaming brew into it, and downed the entire contents before passing it back with a grin. "So much flipping glitter."

Poppy’s enthusiasm made Branch hesitant. "Are you really sure this is a good idea?" he questioned, pouring himself another cup of coffee, determination mixing with doubt.

"Absolutely!" Poppy announced, her hands placed confidently on her hips. "This is what I do: I take care of my friends, and this is how we're going to pull it off." With an excited flourish, she pulled out an elaborately decorated scrapbook from her bag, beaming as she revealed its colorful pages. "First up: we break into Branch and Willow's bunker to get you both on board." She turned the page to reveal a whimsical drawing of them saying, "We’re on board!" in colorful letters. "Then we head to Bergen Town, arriving with as much dramatic flair as possible. We’ll greet Gristle and Bridget with hugs and then wow them with our holiday ideas. Their minds will be blown! And that’s how we’ll give Bridget and the Bergens a fantastic new holiday!"

Suddenly, a high-pitched voice burst forth, singing "Holiday!" as a card shot out, bursting with glitter right into Branch’s coffee cup. Startled, Willow jumped back as the rest of the Snack Pack emerged from their hiding spots, shouting "Holiday!" in perfect unison, their excitement bubbling over.

Willow stared at her friends in astonishment. "When did you all get here?" she asked, a mix of surprise and mild annoyance evident in her tone.

"Oh, we've been hanging around for hours," Cooper chimed in, his grin wide as he took in the chaos of Poppy’s ambitious plan.

Willow smiled nervously. "Great. Just great," she replied, shooting a concerned glance at Branch. "We really need to update our security systems." If it had just been Poppy, maybe it wouldn't be too bad. But knowing that anyone could waltz into their home was a different story entirely.

Branch nodded in agreement, exhaling deeply. He looked down at the green robe he was still wearing. "Alright, I’m going to put on some actual pants," he decided, turning toward the elevator. "Maybe even get a shower if we have time."

Willow glanced down at her own nightclothes, grimacing slightly. "Yeah, I should do the same," she said, following her brother. As they entered the elevator, she turned to her friends. "Can you all meet us up top? We’ll be ready in just a few minutes." The group nodded enthusiastically, ready to embark on the adventure Poppy was enthusiastic about.

Once they were both dressed and ready, Branch and Willow made their way back to join the rest of the Snack Pack, waiting for Poppy. Branch was attempting to practice his best smile, trying to appease Poppy’s demands but only succeeding in startling Biggie.

Willow rolled her eyes, then playfully smacked him on the shoulder. "Stop forcing it. You’ll get stuck like that if you keep it up," she joked, trying to lighten the mood.

When the Caterbus finally arrived, the friends climbed aboard and found their seats. Suddenly, a familiar voice boomed across the bus. "Welcome to the Caterbus Express!"

Willow groaned internally. Oh no, not him. She looked up, and indeed, there was Cloud Guy at the steering wheel, wearing his trademark grin. "Hey, guys! It’s Captain No-Slappy," he announced, pointing at Poppy. "And Queen Poppy!"

Cloud guy grinned. "And Willow! So glad you could come."

Poppy returned his enthusiasm with a wave. "Hi, Cloud Guy!"

Willow plastered on a smile, her annoyance barely concealed. "Honestly starting to regret that choice."

Cloud Guy, unfazed, grabbed the speaker and continued, "Please put away all electronics, safely stow your carry-ons, and hold on to your Dinkles. Thank you for choosing the Caterbus, which is the safest way to travel. Unless, of course, we go into a wormhole."

Branch raised a hand, his expression one of disbelief. "Did you just say wormhole?" Their past misadventures with wormholes hadn’t been the most enjoyable, and he definitely didn’t want to go through another surprise journey.

Willow groaned at Cloud Guy’s comment. "Now that you've put it out into the universe, we are definitely going into a wormhole."

"Now, sit back, relax, and feel the love!" Cloud Guy exclaimed, completely ignoring the siblings’ concerns as he powered up the Caterbus. Poppy, ever the optimist, jumped up and started singing her heart out, setting the tone for the unpredictable journey ahead.

(Poppy)

People all over the world, join hands

She pulled Branch up so he was standing on the seat with her.

Start a love train, love train

Branch rolled his eyes but grinned when Poppy tapped his nose Poppy jumped to the other side of the bus.

(Branch and Poppy)

People all over the world, join hands

Start a love train, a love train

(Poppy)

The next stop

That we make will be soon

(Branch)

Tell all the folks in Bergen Town

We're bringin' it all to you

Bigge had Mr. Dinkles dressed as a train conductor and had him dancing.

(Biggie)

Now please don't miss

The train at the station

(Satin and Chenille)

'Cause if you miss it

I feel sorry, sorry for you

(Biggie)

Well

(The girls)

People all over the world

(Branch)

Sisters and brothers

(Cooper)

Join hands

(Everyone)

Start a love train

The song faded abruptly as the group realized Cloud Guy had begun dancing with them, flailing his arms with joy. Willow turned to face him, her expression one of shock and surprise. "Who’s driving the bus?" she exclaimed, panic creeping into her voice.

Branch, equally bewildered, echoed her concern. "Yeah, who's driving the bus?" The group instinctively glanced toward the steering wheel, their worst fears confirmed: there was no one at the helm. A wave of terror swept through them as the bus lurched forward, careening off the edge of a cliff and straight into a massive worm’s mouth. "Wormhole!" Cloud Guy hollered, his voice a mix of excitement and alarm as they were promptly swallowed into darkness.

Inside the wormhole, chaos reigned. The swirling tunnel was alive with brilliant colors and flashes of light, as if the universe had exploded in a riot of creation. Gravity seemed to abandon them; everyone floated weightlessly, disoriented. The sound of a distorted rendition of "Love Train" vibrated around them, amplifying the surreal experience.

"Guys," Cooper croaked, his face pale as he glanced at his friends. "I don’t feel so good."

Willow nodded slowly, feeling a wave of nausea wash over her. "Same here," she admitted, her gaze sweeping over her friends, who suddenly appeared unnaturally stiff and plastic-like. She looked down at her own hands, feeling an unsettling sense of wrongness within her very being.

As they finally emerged from the wormhole, the world reassembled itself around them. Everything was back to normal, yet Willow couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that lingered. She carefully moved to sit by Branch, who noticed the unusual green tint on her otherwise light blue complexion. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern etching his features.

Willow took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. "I’ll be fine," she said, although the urge to hurl was quite strong. "That was worse than the other wormholes we've been through." Branch nodded in acknowledgment, remembering the swirling vortexes they had encountered in the past—this experience had definitely been different.

The Caterbus landed with a gentle thud in front of the grand doors of the Bergen Town castle. As the group disembarked and made their way toward the imposing entrance, Poppy suddenly turned around, her eyes glinting with mischief. "Guy Diamond, you’re on glitter duty."

With a cheeky grin, Guy replied, "Glitter at the ready!"

Poppy’s gaze flicked to Cooper, pointing with enthusiasm. "Cooper, you’re on pyrotechnics!"

Cooper held up a blowtorch and a handful of fireworks, donned in a welding mask that exaggerated his expression of anticipation. "Fire at the ready!" he declared, his excitement infectious.

"Satin and Chenille, festive outfits!" Poppy called out, her voice brimming with energy.

"On it!" the twins chorused, grinning from ear to ear, clearly relishing the challenge.

As Branch walked between the twins, sporting only the bottom half of his costume, he raised a hesitant brow. "Uh, Poppy, about these costumes..."

"Branch," Poppy interjected, exasperation creeping into her tone. "We’ve been over this! It’s not a holiday without costumes!" A playful grin spread across her face, cutting through the tension. "Now put on your big-boy pants, and let’s go in there in three, two, one!" With that, she pushed the heavy door open, her voice ringing out. "Stop everything!" she shouted, her exuberance filling the hall as she spotted Bridget and Gristle sitting on their thrones, completely unaware.

Bridget sprang to her feet, excitement lighting up her face as she dashed toward Poppy for their familiar greeting. Branch glanced up at Gristle, a casual nod in their direction. "'Sup?"

"It’s so good to see you, Poppy!" Bridget exclaimed, her smile radiant and genuine. "Um, what are you all doing here?"

"Funny you should ask," Poppy replied, a playful glint in her eye as Bridget set her down. She turned to Smidge, her command ringing with authority. "Hit it, Smidge!" Smidge immediately got to work, shutting off the bright lights around them. One spotlight flickered to life, illuminating a huge box in the center of the floor.

With excitement, Cooper and Biggie pulled the box open, revealing a stage that popped up with a miniature version of the Troll Tree perched upon a small mountain. "Ladies and gentlemen, we are here to solve your problems!" Poppy announced, stepping out proudly onto the stage.

Bridget blinked, confusion settling on her face. "We have problems?"

"But don’t worry," Poppy continued, her enthusiasm unwavering, "we have the solution. You guys need a new holiday!"

"Why do we need a holiday?" Bridget asked, bewildered. Willow frowned, concerned. She sensed trouble brewing and knew this wouldn’t end well.

"How else are you gonna get presents, wear awesome costumes, and try to play 'How many marshmallows can you fit in your mouth?'" Poppy asked, her energy unwavering.

"My goodness," Gristle said, a knot of concern building in his stomach. "Excuse me. Have you not been getting our cards back?"

"Uh, yeah," Branch replied, moving to stand beside Poppy. "I especially loved the Wednesday one. You know, it made me appreciate the middle of the week."

"Middle of the week," Gristle said, triumph flickering in his eyes. "Knew it."

"My favorite was Sunday mid-morning," Willow chimed in, trying to be helpful.

"Look, we care about you guys," Poppy said, taking a step forward, her tone earnest. "And we want to ensure you have something to celebrate. And here’s the great news: the Trolls have, like, a kajillion holidays, so you can have one of ours!"

Willow crossed her arms, skepticism flickering in her eyes. "Actually," she spoke up slowly, "the more I think about it, the more this feels like a bad idea."

Branch shot her a surprised look. "You couldn’t have said something at the village?" he asked, incredulity evident in his voice.

Willow shrugged, trying to defend herself. "It sounded like a good idea at the time!"

Branch rolled his eyes, the reality of the situation dawning on him as the lights suddenly cut off. "Well, it’s too late now. Get in position; the show is going to start soon."

Chapter Text

(Poppy)

You're looking for a holiday

And there's a million things to celebrate

Your life is bland right now but that's okay

Prepare your minds to get blown away

Poppy floated down onto the stage where the Snack Pack were singing backup vocals for her. Willow grinned nervously beside Guy Diamond at the song. This was going to end badly.

(Poppy)( Biggie )

Holla Day

Poppy appeared in a rainbow costume with the word "Holla" on it. Branch was beside her as the sun, with the word "Day" written on it.

(Poppy) ( Branch )

Holla Day

(Both)( Branch)

Holi-day! Poppy, break it down!

(Poppy)

The first holiday

We're presenting to ya

A sparkly shiny day called Glitterpalooza

Home Guy Diamond, take the mic

(Both)

And give the Bergens

Somethin' they gonna like

(Guy)

When you wake up in the morning

Whether it's sunny or whether it's stormy

Open the door for a big surprise

A blast of glitter shoots in your eyes

(Everyone)

Glitterpalooza, Glitterpalooza, Glitterpalooza!

Willow groaned. "Not Glitterpalooza! Knew I should have checked the holidays before we did this." She looked at Poppy concerned. "What other holidays are in this song?"

At the end of the explanation, Gristle was attacked with a giant blast of glitter. "Oh, it's in my eye," he groaned.

Bridget looked at her boyfriend, concerned. "Maybe that holiday is not really cool for us."

Poppy grinned. "That's okay. We got tons of holidays." She pointed to

Biggie. "Biggie, tell 'em about Tickle Day!"

Biggie popped out of the tree with Mr. Dinkles.

(Biggie)

We celebrate with giggles

Get tickled, get tickled

Get tickled by spiders

Willow grimaced as Gristle was ambushed by a ton of spiders. "Yeah, not a fan of that one myself," she admitted

Branch jumped forward at the sight of Gristle screaming in horror.

(Branch)

Clearly not your idea of fun

(Poppy)

Yo, Satin, Chenille

Show 'em another one

(Satin and Chenille)

Everyone will scream " hooray "

In the electric foam parade

We got lasers that sparkle and glow

So everyone enjoys the show

And there'll be flowers

Shootin' bubbles in the air

You'll be blinded by the lights

But you just won't care

Flip a little switch

Get a bubble bomb-bomb

Because a party ain't a party

Without lasers and foam

Gristle was attacked with foam before being blinded by lasers. "These don't seem like Bergen things," Bridget called out, nervous.

"Why is there so much glitter!" Willow hissed. "You know they don't like glitter, loud noises, or bright lights."

(Branch)

Okay, not the holiday for you?

(Poppy)

It's all good

We're only halfway through

"You gotta be kidding me," Gristle said in pain.

(Cooper)

All your family and friends

Will gather round

To enjoy the majestic sounds

A chorus you'll hear from miles away

For twenty-four hours, it's Balloon Squeal Day

The Trolls gathered in a lively cluster, their vibrant energy palpable as they fiddled with colorful balloons, making them squeal by carefully releasing a bit of air. Branch, standing slightly apart, grimaced at the ruckus before stepping forward to address the situation. "Hey everybody, why don’t we take a cool five?" He flashed his trademark grin, hopeful it might lift the mood. But Willow, with a knowing look, elbowed him gently and shook her head in disapproval.

"Poppy, this whole celebration has been great," he continued, trying to catch Poppy's attention. She beamed at him, her positivity infectious. "And you're amazing for pulling it all together. But honestly, it’s turning into a disaster." Poppy’s face twisted in confusion.

"You know that wise old saying, 'Go big or go home'?” Branch leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Maybe we should go—”

“Bigger!” Poppy interjected, her excitement bubbling over, eyes sparkling with ideas.

Willow let out a frustrated groan, turning to Poppy with concern etched on her face. "Poppy, this isn’t working," she insisted, her voice firm but laced with a hint of sadness. "We need to cut our losses and find a way out of this mess."

"But we can’t leave yet," Poppy replied, determination hardening her gaze. "We have to give our friends a holiday they’ll remember!"

"But they don’t understand any of our holidays." Willow’s tone was urgent, her eyes scanning the chaotic scene. When it became clear Poppy wasn’t going to relent, she sighed dramatically. "Fine, we’ll stay." Her face broke into a smirk as she caught sight of Branch in his ridiculous sun costume. "At least this trip isn't a total waste," she said, snapping a quick picture of him before tucking her camera into her colorful hair. "I want to remember this costume forever."

"I'm so glad someone is finding joy in all this," Branch replied dryly, his enthusiasm waning.

Just then, Poppy clapped her hands together, and the lights around them dimmed dramatically, signaling the start of another upbeat song. A glimmer of hope rose as the music filled the air, perhaps offering a chance to turn the day around after all.

(Poppy)

It's time to double-down

In the speed round

Got a holiday you're gonna like

Better stick around

(Guy)

Well, my favorite's Epic Hug Ball Day

(Everyone)

That's a big ball of hugs

(Poppy)

Or Shock a Friend Day

Rub your feet on the rug

(Everyone)

And touch everyone you love!

(Branch)

Well, there's a very special day

We call an Equinox

It's a great opportunity to celebrate socks

(Everyone)

Socks, socks, socks, socks, socks

Come on!

(Poppy)

Tear-Away Pants Day

Feel the breeze on your hips

(Biggie)

Hear the sound of Velcro going rip, rip, rip

(Branch)

Good Luck Troll Day

Put a gem on your stomach

(Poppy)

Then you spread a little charm

Let a friend belly rub it

Willow grimaced as she watched Biggie and Guy Diamond rub the gem Branch sent into Gristle's belly. "Alright, I think I'm done with this." She moved to the side of the stage out of the way while Branch was singing his next piece. "They are clearly uncomfortable with this." She shook her head. "At least the glitter stopped."

Willow leaned against the fake mountain and waited for the inevitable blow-up from King Gristle. Her ears perked up in surprise when Bridget was the one to shout. Bridget gasped in surprise. "I used my outside voice."

"You don't like any of our holidays?" Poppy asked, confused.

"Poppy," Bridget walked closer to her friend. "All this glitter and foam," a firework shot off. "And pyrotechnics."

"Don't forget the fuzzy sweater," Poppy added. Gristle was in the background pulling the sweater away from his neck.

"I guess what I'm saying is," Bridget paused in thought . "Maybe it's best if you , um, go and stand somewhere, like, where we're not."

"Oh," Poppy said. "You mean, like, back here?" She asked stepping back. When Bridget shook her head, she stepped back more. "Over here? How about here?" She looked distraught when Bridget suggested she step back further. "Wait, are you mad at me?"

"No, I'm not mad," Bridget denied. "I'm just feeling the opposite of happy."

"What is happening?" Guy Diamond asked Branch as Willow walked over to the two.

"I don't know," Branch said hanging from a string. "It's like, the nicest fight ever."

"Bridge, I think I know what you're trying to say," Poppy said, smiling.

"Okay, good," Bridget sighed. "'Cause I really didn't want to have to say it."

"You want me, to step back, so we have room to show you more holidays!" Poppy cheered.

"What?" Bridget asked, horrified. "No!" Poppy started naming off more holidays. "Poppy, enough!" Bridget was frustrated. "You're not listening to me."

"What do you want me to do?" Poppy asked, confused.

"I think you should," Bridget sighed. "Leave."

"Oh," Poppy said. "Okay." She walked back to the door in the prop tree and tried to walk in. When her costume prevented her from entering, she turned sideways and walked in. Willow sighed and watched Poppy as she ran through the front doors of the castle, crying.

"It's getting dark," Branch remarked as they carefully lowered him down from the elevated platform. He cast a glance around the dimming castle, sensing the urgency in the air. "We should go find her soon."

Willow nodded in agreement, her gaze shifting toward the Bergen King, who appeared overwhelmed by the chaos. "These guys have a significant mess to clean up. Why don't I stay here and help? It was our party that caused this ruckus in the first place." She noticed her brother preparing to argue and quickly flashed him a playful grin, adding, "Besides, you'll be coming back here anyway, right? Poppy will probably want to apologize for all of this once you go talk to her."

"Alright," Branch conceded with a nod, appreciating her willingness to assist. "We'll be back soon."

As Willow watched her friends and brother step out of the castle, she let out a resigned sigh and surveyed the disarray she and her friends had left in their wake. "Now, where to start?" she pondered aloud.

Gristle, his brow furrowed with irritation, interrupted her thoughts. "You know what? No more Trolls in the castle area!" His gaze landed on Willow, who was in the process of dismantling the very stage where her friends had just performed. "Sorry, Willow."

Willow shrugged, brushing off his apology. "No worries, I understand. I’ll pitch in to help clean this up before I leave."

Gristle continued, still frazzled. "It’s like Trolls want us to become just like them with their incessant happy energy, glitter, foam, and those blaring lasers," he grumbled, shaking his head.

"Grissy, maybe we shouldn't have been so hard on Poppy and the Trolls," Bridget interjected. She watched in disbelief as a stray sparkle of glitter escaped from Gristle’s ear, an unfortunate side effect of holding in his sneeze. "I mean, they were just trying to do something nice for us."

Gristle sighed heavily, his expression softening. "I guess." He glanced down at the new tattoo on his lower back, a reminder of the odd but heartfelt celebrations they had experienced. "I just can’t believe they took a bus all this way and went through all this trouble to create an elaborate holiday-themed song and dance just to give us a bit of cheer. That is some seriously poor time management, if you ask me."

Willow chuckled at his comment, shaking her head. "It doesn't help that you were never going to use any of our holidays anyway," she retorted with a friendly smirk.

Bridget paused in her own thoughts, moving away from the wall adorned with colorful holiday pictures, her brow knit in confusion. "What do you mean?" She approached Willow, extending her hand and offering her a lift.

Willow gestured toward the tapestry of celebrations hanging on the wall. "Do you know why we celebrate any of these holidays?" she asked, scanning the faces of her Bergen friends. They shook their heads, prompting her to let out a thoughtful sigh. "They were created because we needed reasons to celebrate. When we originally escaped Bergen Town, many of the villagers were still gripped by fear. So, King Peppy devised these holidays to distract us and lift our spirits. Over time, they became traditions we look forward to every year." A chuckle escaped her lips as she remembered, "Honestly, I couldn’t even explain why we celebrate socks and the Equinox—we don’t even wear socks!"

Willow looked at her friends with a mix of warmth and determination. "Poppy thought you all might feel sad if you didn’t have a special day to celebrate, just like the Trolls do. And she wanted to give you that experience. I'm not saying Poppy executed her plans perfectly; I'm sure she’ll apologize, especially since we’ve had past discussions about party etiquette with Bergens." She glanced at the bandages on King Gristle's face, her expression softening. "Again, I’m really sorry about the glitter, the noise, and the lasers. I had no say in her plans; I was only informed this morning."

Gristle rested his head against his keyboard with a resigned sigh. "It’s fine. I suppose I can understand her excitement," he responded, though his brow still creased with confusion. "But why would she go through all this trouble?"

"Because you're our friends," Willow replied simply, her shrug conveying the depth of her belief. "She’d go to the ends of the Earth if she thought it would bring happiness to her friends."

Bridget’s eyes widened as the realization struck her. "She did it because she cares," she acknowledged, glancing back at the joyful holiday pictures their friend had created. "A lot."

Willow nodded, sensing the shift in their understanding. "You all don’t have much experience with that kind of caring, do you?" she asked gently, her heart aching for them. "The Bergens were so focused on their own unhappiness that they couldn’t find room in their hearts to care for anyone else’s."

Bridget seemed deep in thought, her expression contemplative. "Maybe we have a reason to celebrate after all," she mused, her resolve building as she set Willow down. "Grissy, that's it!"

Willow watched in bewilderment as the two Bergens hurried out of the throne room, their excitement palpable. "What’s happening?" she asked the two Bergen guards, who merely shrugged and resumed their vacuuming. Rolling her eyes, she ambled to the grand doors. "Thanks, guys."

Just then, Bridget burst back in, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Sorry, you have to stay in there for now," she said, leaving Willow perplexed. "It’s a surprise for you and the rest of the Trolls. So please, stay inside while we work on it."

Willow shrugged, deciding to embrace the mystery. Staying inside the castle for a little while longer seemed perfectly fine to her.

When Bridget finally allowed her to leave the castle, Willow stepped outside and was greeted by a spectacular sight: the entire area was transformed, covered in shimmering bubbles that glistened in the sunlight. She spotted Gristle, who was diligently shaping the Troll Tree to resemble a luscious head of hair, intricate and whimsical. Willow tilted her head, a grin creeping onto her face as she realized it bore a resemblance to Fuzzbert, the beloved troll.

Nearby, Poppy and Branch stood mesmerized, their eyes wide with wonder. They watched the joyful scene unfold—children frolicking around and giggling with delight while the Bergens sang cheerful songs, their voices harmonizing in the fresh air.

Curiosity piqued, Willow walked over to Branch, a playful smile lighting up her face. "So, what is all this supposed to be?" she asked, her gaze sweeping across the joyful celebration.

"You mean you didn’t have a part in this?" Branch replied, a hint of surprise in his voice as he raised an eyebrow. Willow shook her head, her long hair swishing lightly.

"Huh," Branch mused, his curiosity deepening. "It’s the Bergens' new holiday. They’re calling it 'Trollabration.' It’s meant to celebrate their newfound friendship with us."

Willow turned to her brother, nudging him playfully in the ribs. "Don’t think I didn’t notice that smile plastered on your face," she teased, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “You just had to let your guard down, didn’t you?”

Branch let out a laugh, but it was laced with a hint of discomfort. "Yeah, but can you help me stop now?" He was still beaming, but the smile seemed to stretch a little too wide, and he winced slightly. "It’s really starting to hurt now."

Willow nodded in understanding as the Bergens began to sing again, their voices rising in a joyful chorus that filled the air. “I’ll help you when we get home, bro,” she reassured, a warm smile softening her features.

Branch nodded appreciatively and, with a burst of energy, jumped onto Gristle’s keyboard as the troll skated by, his laughter mingling with the festive atmosphere that surrounded them.

(Branch) ( Bergens )

Holiday Holiday

Celebrate Celebrate

(Poppy)

If we took a holiday

(Bridget)

Took some time to celebrate

(Poppy)

Just one day out of life

(Everybody)

It would be, it would be so nice

(Bridget)

Everybody spread the word

We're gonna have a celebration

(Everybody)

All across the world

In every nation

(Branch)

It's time for the good times

Forget about the bad times

One day to come together

To release the pressure

(Everybody)

We need a holiday

Willow grinned at her brother as they walked home from the lively Trollabration party, the remnants of laughter and music still echoing in their minds. Branch, exhausted after such a fun-filled day, trudged beside her, his energy slowly waning. "Alright, bro. The celebrations are over, and it’s time to get you into bed," she declared playfully.

"I'm not even tired yet," Branch replied, stifling a yawn that crept out despite his protest. He straightened up for a moment, reminding himself of his big brother duties. "Besides, I’m the big brother; it’s my job to make sure you get to bed first."

The two continued their trek, the soft glow of lanterns lighting their path as they approached the familiar entrance of their bunker. Willow chuckled, a teasing glint in her eyes. "And yet, I wasn’t the one who spent the last few hours dancing and singing my heart out. Sure, I had my moments, but you truly outdid yourself this time! It’s my turn to take care of you, Big Bro."

With gentle persistence, she led Branch to his cozy bed, the sheets still warm and inviting. "Come on, get some rest. I have a feeling Poppy has something big planned for tomorrow, and it wouldn’t do for you to be worn out,” she encouraged, tucking the blanket snugly around him.

Branch snorted softly, slipping under the covers. "She always has something big planned. It’s like her specialty," he murmured, a dreamy smile creeping across his face as he thought of their vibrant friend, always brimming with excitement.

"Goodnight, sis," he mumbled sleepily, his eyes fluttering closed.

"Goodnight, Branch," Willow replied with a fond smile as she quietly shut the door behind her, the soft click punctuating her thoughts.

As she made her way to her own room, a sigh escaped her lips. "Well, that could have been a disaster," she muttered under her breath, reflecting on the unexpected song Poppy had created for the Bergen holiday, a gesture intended to celebrate but one that could easily have overlooked the preferences of others. "I really should talk to Poppy about being more mindful in the future. We need to ensure she doesn’t forget that what excites her may not resonate with everyone else."

Chapter Text

Willow sat on a colorful patch of grass, watching her brother Branch as he fumbled nervously in front of Poppy. They had just wrapped up their morning song, and this was Branch’s moment to confess his feelings. Instead of a heartfelt admission, he opted for an awkward compliment. "You're crushing it at this queen thing," he said, a hint of hesitation in his voice. Poppy beamed, thanking him with that bright smile Willow adored, but disappointment washed over her. Looks like she owed Cooper some donuts.
“Being queen is the most important thing to me,” Poppy declared passionately, her eyes sparkling with determination. “Other than being your friend.” Willow winced, feeling the sting of being placed firmly in the ‘friend zone’. That meant another donut debt to Smidge as well.
With a resigned sigh, Willow turned to head into the village, muttering, “I’ll comfort Branch later.” Just as she started walking away, a chilling scream pierced the air. Biggie’s voice echoed desperately, calling for Poppy’s help. Willow’s ears perked up, instinctively leading her to the commotion. She dashed toward the source of the noise and halted in surprise as she caught sight of a bizarre sight: a fluffy bat with oversized wings swooping dangerously close to Biggie.
In a flash, Poppy sprang into action, her hair elongating like a lasso as she deftly grabbed the frenzied bat out of Biggie's path. “Gotcha!” she exclaimed triumphantly, but her victory quickly morphed into panic. “Ah! It’s in my hair! It’s in my hair! Get it out, get it out, get it out!”
Branch, undeterred by the chaos, charged at the bat with a loud shout. He gingerly massaged its face in a calming motion, his soft touch working wonders. “What is that thing?” Legsly asked, eyes wide with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
“It’s creepy,” Cooper remarked, visibly shuddering at the sight.
“It’s scary,” Satin and Chenille chimed in unison, sharing worried glances as they clutched each other.
“And nasty,” Guy Diamond added, his grip on his son, Tiny Diamond, tightening as he cast a wary glance at the fuzzy creature.
Willow, however, saw something different. As the bat finally settled down in Branch’s gentle grasp, she couldn’t help but smile. “It’s adorable!” she squealed, racing over and scooping up the little creature. “See? Those guys don’t know what they’re talking about, do they? You’re so cute, yes you are!” Her friends stared, caught off guard by her affection for the unusual animal.
Poppy, still trying to disentangle her hair from the bat's panicked fluttering, noticed something peculiar with the roll of denim clutched in its claws. “To Queen Poppy,” she read aloud, retrieving it with a mixture of curiosity and concern. “Oh, don’t worry, everyone. It looks like it’s just an invitation.” She slowly unrolled the fabric. “Barb, the Queen of Rock, announces her One Nation Under Rock World Tour.” Willow’s brow furrowed; she had never heard of a ‘Queen of Rock’ before. “Bring your string to the biggest party the world has ever seen.” Poppy looked up, perplexed. “Queen of Rock?”
“It’s nothing!” King Peppy shouted, abruptly seizing the invitation from Poppy's hands. His eyes were wide with panic as he hastily crumpled the invitation to his chest. “It means nothing at all. You don’t need to worry about it.” The Trolls around them exchanged worried glances, their earlier excitement replaced by a cloud of concern as Peppy began to chew on the invitation in haste.
Just then, Branch leapt onto King Peppy, repeating the same calming technique he used on the bat. “Okay,” King Peppy relented, taking a deep breath as he finally settled down. “I’m calm. I’m calm.”
Poppy approached her father, her voice tinged with confusion. “Dad, what’s going on?”
“Well,” King Peppy began, gathering himself. “I have long feared this day would come. I was hoping to protect you from this, Poppy.”
“Protect me?” Poppy scoffed lightly, her playful grin returning. “I’m not a little kid anymore, Dad. I’m the queen now.”
“And being queen means you should know about any and all potential threats,” Willow interjected, still cradling the bat in her arms, its eyes wide and unbothered.
King Peppy nodded solemnly, understanding the gravity of the moment. “You’re right. The truth is, we are not alone in this world. There are other kinds of Trolls.”
“Wow,” Poppy responded, her frown deepening. “That’s… Dad, that’s great!” Her excitement returned as she added, “The more Trolls, the merrier!”
“But you don’t understand,” Peppy said, stepping back. “These other Trolls aren’t like us. They’re different.”
“Different how?” Poppy pressed, curiosity piqued. “Different like Legsly?” 
“I love being me!” Legsly replied, his characteristic grin spreading across his face.
“Or Fuuzzbert? Or Smidge? Or Skyscraper Troll?” Poppy continued to name the diverse Trolls in their village, her enthusiasm unabated.
“No, it’s not that,” King Peppy insisted, waving his hands dismissively. “They’re different in ways you can’t even begin to imagine.” He seemed to grow more anxious. “You see, we love music with a hummable hook, with an upbeat melody, with a catchy rhythm that makes you want to snap your fingers, tap your toes, and wiggle your butt.” He stood tall, proud of their identity. “That’s our music. It’s what makes us Pop Trolls.”
Willow nodded, beginning to understand the weight of the old king's words. “So what makes Queen Barb a Rock Troll?” she asked, stepping forward with newfound resolve. “How are these Trolls different from us?”
“These other Trolls, they sing differently,” King Peppy explained, his tone growing serious. “They dance differently. Why, some of them can’t even begin to grasp the concept of 'Hammer Time.'"
In that moment, the Trolls behind them spontaneously broke into a rendition of the dance. Legsly, horrified, shouted, “You can’t touch that!” The laughter soon turned to chaos as the Trolls started running around in circles, alarmed and confused.
“Stop!” King Peppy bellowed, and the Trolls froze mid-motion, eyes wide. Turning back to Poppy, he looked thoughtful. “How about we break this down to a smaller group?” he suggested, the gravity of their situation settling heavily in the atmosphere.
The smaller group gathered in a serene grove nestled by a sparkling waterfall, a haven where the sunlight danced on the water's surface. Among them were Willow, Branch, Poppy, and the cheerful Snack Pack. As they settled down, Willow clutched her beloved fuzzy bat, eyes wide with anticipation. King Peppy, with a regal air, unfurled an ancient scroll, its edges frayed with time. 
"It's a story as old as time itself," he began, his voice resonating with the weight of history. "In the beginning, there was silence, an almost unbearable stillness. But one fateful day, someone dared to make a sound. Inspired by this unexpected noise, our ancestors crafted six strings, each imbued with the extraordinary power to control all music. With these strings, they could create melodies of every kind."
Willow's gaze deepened with wonder as she imagined the vibrant spectrum of music: “Techno, funk, classical, country, hard rock, and pop,” King Peppy listed, each genre a thread in the elaborate tapestry of sound. “Every kind of music in between united us for one glorious celebration. It was one big party where all Trolls thrived together in joyous harmony.”
However, the cheer quickly dimmed as he continued, "But, as time went on, the very essence of unity began to fade. Trolls grew intolerant of one another’s musical preferences and soon, conflict erupted over which type of music the strings would play. The elders, wisdom etched in their faces, saw no alternative but to partition the tribes. Each tribe would claim one string and retreat into solitude, a separation that has persisted through generations."
King Peppy then unfurled a map, its lines marking the territories of the six tribes. “Here you can see them: Techno, Country, Rock, Classical, Funk, and of course, us, the Pop Trolls,” he explained, tracing his finger over the inked borders.
Poppy's eyes flickered with realization. "Now Barb's announcement makes sense," she said, glancing back at the map with a newfound understanding. “She wants to reunite the strings so that the Troll World can throw one big party once more!”
“Wait, that’s all you heard? One big party?” Branch interjected skeptically, his brows knitted together.
Poppy laughed, the sound vibrant like music itself. "Yes! Think about it—when all Trolls lived in harmony, there was nothing more beautiful!"
"But I heard fighting,” Branch countered, his tone serious. “Bringing the strings back together could lead to conflict.”
Willow nodded in agreement, her expression contemplative. “And ‘One Nation Under Rock’?" she asked, echoing Branch’s concerns. “That doesn’t sound very promising.”
King Peppy stepped forward, his brow furrowing. "Precisely, Branch and Willow," he affirmed, moving towards the waterfall where the mist sparkled in the light. "That’s why we must protect our string with unwavering vigilance." The cascading water parted to reveal an elegant white harp adorned with a single shimmering pink string. "Behold! The Pop Music String," King Peppy announced, striking it to produce a bright, singular note of pop music that floated in the air like a glowing ember.
Willow’s excitement quickly turned to worry as she stared between the harp and the image on the scroll, her mind racing. "Why do we have the harp, though?" she asked, addressing the fuzzy bat that rested comfortably on her head. "Shouldn’t we have simply taken the string?"
“It’s beautiful,” Poppy murmured, her eyes filled with awe as glistening particles from the note rained down upon them like fairy dust.
“And powerful," King Peppy added. "That’s precisely why it’s critical that we don’t allow it to fall into the wrong hands."
"And we won’t," Branch declared, determination lighting up his eyes. "Not while I'm around. What we truly need is a solid plan."
"Don't fret," Peppy reassured them, his expression confident. "I've been preparing for this moment for years. Our best option is to run."
“Run?” Poppy and Willow echoed in disbelief, their brows arching high.
“And hide,” Peppy finished, his voice firm.
Without hesitation, Branch donned his woodland survival gear, a look of resolve etched on his face. “I’m on it,” he said, sprinting off alongside King Peppy.
“But we don’t even know what we’re running and hiding from!” Poppy protested, her hands on her hips.
“We’re hiding from Barb, and all the other tribes that differ from us,” King Peppy replied urgently.
“You’re assuming the worst about someone you haven’t even met,” Poppy countered passionately.
“And you’re assuming they won’t find us if they turn out to be hostile,” Willow added with conviction. “They’ve already located us. They know Poppy is the queen; what’s stopping them from tracking down the string?” She placed her fuzzy bat down, crossing her arms defiantly. “We need to defend Pop Village, not just run and hide!”
“Staying here isn’t an option, either,” Branch said, dismissing the growing argument. He gestured towards their village; its dwindling number of inhabitants was painfully evident. “We don’t have enough allies left to mount a defense. We don’t even know how many of them there are.”
“We have to take action—running away with the string is not a solution!” Willow insisted, her eyes blazing with determination. 
“And staying here to be captured and possibly destroyed will?” Branch shot back, frustration seeping into his voice. “As the older sibling, it’s my responsibility to protect you. If running is the only way to keep both you and the string safe, then I'll do it.” He narrowed his gaze. “So, are you coming with me willingly, or will I need to drag you along?”
Willow met her brother's stare, her resolve wavering slightly. “Fine,” she relented, snatching the fuzzy bat back up. "We’ll leave. Tomorrow." She raised a hand to cut off any further arguments. “You may be ready to travel at a moment’s notice, but I need to pack a few essentials. Who knows how long we’ll be gone?”
Branch nodded, turning back to King Peppy. “There’s no time to waste arguing,” Peppy declared, moving to pace among the trees. “We need to prepare for the journey.” He gestured for Branch to follow him. 
With a sheepish grin, Branch glanced at Poppy. “I do have to go,” he admitted, then turned to his sister. "Make sure you’re ready to leave in the morning.” She rolled her eyes but nodded, giving him a dismissive wave.
Poppy sighed heavily, her heart weighed down with concern. “We’re all Trolls,” she expressed, frustration simmering beneath her words. “Our differences shouldn’t matter; we need unity now more than ever.”
Once they were out of sight, Willow turned to Poppy, her expression anxious. “Tell me you have a plan,” she implored desperately. "I refuse to run away from this situation.”
Poppy met her gaze earnestly. “I do have a plan. But it doesn’t involve fighting. Meet me tonight by my balloon.” 
Willow narrowed her eyes, a mixture of curiosity and apprehension flooding her thoughts. “What are you planning, Poppy?” she demanded, watching as the queen strode away with a determined glint in her eyes.
Willow stumbled upon Poppy in the midst of an unexpected project, her friend adorning a fuzzy bat with a shocking amount of glitter. "Oh, look how cute you are!" Poppy exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she carefully sprinkled more of the shimmering dust onto the little creature.
Willow raised an eyebrow, grimacing at the spectacle. "Why is she covered in glitter?" she asked, reluctantly picking up the bat and inspecting its new attire. She meticulously tugged at the bright bow that had been tied in the creature's hair, imagining Queen Barb’s reaction. "I don't think Queen Barb is going to like this," she muttered, futilely attempting to brush off some of the glitter.
Without skipping a beat, Poppy snatched the fuzzy bat back from Willow's hands, a determined smile spread across her face. "Nonsense! Queen Barb is going to love her new look," she insisted, adding even more glitter in a burst of enthusiasm. With a playful flick of her wrist, Poppy handed the bat a note, alongside the letter she had written. "Tell Barb I look forward to helping her plan the world's biggest party!" she added, her tone bubbling with anticipation.
Just then, a voice called out, startling them both. Branch, arms crossed and a frown etched on his face, stepped into view. "What are you two doing?" he asked, narrowing his eyes at Willow. "Are you sneaking out?"
"We're not doing anything," Poppy said quickly, trying to hide the fuzzy bat as it fluttered away, its glittery body catching the fading light.
"Ooh," Sheila B., the hot air balloon, chimed in with a cheeky grin, enjoying the drama unfolding. "Poppy and Willow's busted!" Poppy shot a glare at her balloon friend, a mix of embarrassment and irritation crossing her features.
"Let’s be real, Branch," Willow replied, leaning casually against the hot air balloon while tossing her backpack into the basket. "I wasn’t going to let you drag me anywhere."
"So you're sneaking out to meet Barb?" Branch questioned, his voice laced with concern. "Headed into enemy territory?"
"She’s not the enemy," Poppy responded firmly. "She's a queen, the same as me."
"Your dad just told us that Queen Barb is bad news," Branch insisted, his gaze steady as he looked at Poppy.
"Well, my dad doesn’t know everything," Poppy countered defiantly. "Besides, if she is bad news, what better way to find out than to meet her face to face?" She gestured towards Willow. "That’s why she’s coming with me."
Willow nodded in agreement. "I don't trust this World Tour Queen Barb is talking about," she chimed in, crossing her arms thoughtfully. "But I figure I’ll either make a new friend or I can keep an eye on Poppy to make sure she stays safe if things go south."
"He knows more about this than either of you do," Branch continued, trying to emphasize his point. Willow rolled her eyes in frustration. Typical, she thought; he can’t just let it go. "You didn’t even know there was a string until this morning."
"That should have been one of the first things your dad told you when you became queen," Willow said, her tone softening with realization. "As queen, it’s your responsibility to protect the string."
"Exactly!" Poppy shouted, pointing at Willow in agreement. The two friends climbed into the balloon, their minds brimming with ideas. "And he may think he’s fine in a world where everyone lives in isolation, but I can’t just sit back and do nothing."
"But we don’t know anything about the other Trolls," Branch said quietly, his tone shifting from frustration to concern.
Willow's face lit up with enthusiasm as she peeked out of the balloon. "I know!" she declared, her excitement bubbling over. "I can’t wait to learn about the different cultures and music they play."
"We know they’re Trolls," Poppy dismissed, waving her hand in the air. "Branch, look around Troll Village. Everybody’s different, even us!" She paused, her excitement momentarily interrupted. "Did you hear something?"
"Stop trying to change the subject," Branch replied, his frustration creeping back.
"Look," Poppy sighed deeply, lowering her voice. "Being queen means having a lot of power, and it’s my duty to use it for good." She pulled the balloon basket closed, a look of determination on her face. "I can’t just stay home when I know there’s a whole world out there with different Trolls, just like us."
Branch exhaled, his shoulders slumping as if weighed down by his worries. "This is a terrible idea that will most likely blow up in both of your faces."
Poppy shrugged, cutting the rope that held the balloon in place, and held it steady as it began to rise. "Okay, bye!"
"What?" Branch exclaimed, his eyes widening in disbelief as he realized they were actually leaving. Willow waved as the duo floated away, a mix of excitement and anxiety bubbling up inside her. Branch groaned in frustration and, with a determined leap, used his hair to propel himself higher before landing in the balloon beside them. "And I guess I’m coming with you."
Poppy gasped with relief, placing a hand over her heart. "Oh! Thank you," she exclaimed, her voice filled with genuine gratitude. "We really didn’t want to go without you."
Willow smiled, her gratitude evident. "Thanks for coming, Branch," she said, reaching out to him apologetically. "Sorry I snuck out without telling you where I was going."
Branch shrugged, pulling her into a quick hug. "Sorry I threatened to tie you up in my hair and make you leave the Village with me." 
Willow pulled away, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "You didn’t say that part," she replied playfully, though his mention of dragging her had put a knot of worry in her stomach. 
"I was thinking it," Branch admitted, a sheepish grin breaking across his face as he stepped back from his sister, feeling the weight of their conversation. "Look, we’ve both made mistakes we’re not proud of. Let's just move on. You and me?" He raised his fist in the air, hoping to rekindle their bond.
Willow rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile spreading across her face. "Me and you," she agreed, gently tapping her fist against her brother's.
Poppy watched the two siblings with delight, her heart swelling with joy. "Now that is how we start a road trip!" she shouted, her voice filled with uncontainable excitement. "This is going to be the best adventure ever!" The balloon floated up into the sky, the promise of new experiences shining bright ahead.

Chapter Text

Poppy leaned out of the colorful hot air balloon, her hair fluttering in the gentle breeze as she took a deep breath. The sun cast a warm glow over the landscape, making everything below look like a patchwork quilt of greens and browns. She grinned widely, savoring the beauty of the day. 
"All right," Branch said with a determined look, placing a thick manual down on his lap. He had discovered a quirky pilot's hat nestled among the cabin’s supplies and wore it proudly atop his head. "In a short four hundred and fifty-six pages, I’m going to learn how to fly this thing." He cracked his knuckles, a sign of his seriousness, and prepared to delve into the manual.
"Ugh, Branch!" Poppy exclaimed, her frustration bubbling over as she reached over and snatched the book from him. "We don't need a giant, comprehensive manual to have fun. We just need to enjoy the ride!" With a playful flourish, she tossed the heavy book out of the side of the balloon.
Willow, sitting a few feet away, quickly reached out with her long, flowing hair, manipulating it deftly to snatch the book before it could tumble too far down. "We might need this later," she remarked, tucking the manual securely into her thick strands as if it were a precious artifact.
"How hard can it be?" Poppy asked cheerfully as she turned her attention back to the controls. With an adventurous spirit, she began pushing various buttons and flipping switches, excitement coursing through her veins. Yet, without any real guidance or understanding of what she was doing, Sheila B began to wobble and sway erratically.
“All right, Poppy!” Sheila B shouted, her voice a mix of exhilaration and panic. “Easy on the buttons!” The balloon pitched left and right, leaving the others clinging to their seats for dear life.
Willow grimaced, her heart racing. “Please, no more!” she pleaded, trying to regain her composure. “That was the worst ride I’ve ever been on.” 
“Sorry,” Poppy squeaked, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment as she steadied her grip on the controls. The thrill of adventure was slowly being overshadowed by the reality of her reckless enthusiasm.
Branch silenced the group, his eyes narrowing as he concentrated on a distant sound. "What was that?" he asked, scanning the brightly colored interior of the balloon’s basket. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement, but Willow’s ears twitched in response to a peculiar noise. It was a soft, rhythmic sound—someone was snoring.
The trio turned their attention to a mound of sugary cotton candy piled high in the corner of the basket. As they peeled back the fluffy mass, they gasped in unison, "Biggie?" Poppy exclaimed, a broad smile spreading across her face. There, half-buried in the sticky sweetness, was Biggie, looking somewhat dazed with strands of cotton candy adorning his body. Attached to his finger was Mr. Dinkles, the adorable glow worm.
Upon hearing his name, Biggie stirred awake, a joyous expression creeping into his features. "Oh, hello there!" he said cheerfully, stretching as he stood. "Sorry about that. I couldn’t resist. You know I get around cotton candy." He glanced down at Mr. Dinkles, who was gummed up and struggling to detach himself. “Oh dear! Look what’s happened; Mr. Dinkles is all stuck!” Biggie shook his hand vigorously to dislodge the worm, and in a panic, watched as Mr. Dinkles flew out of the balloon. “Ah! Mr. Dinkles!” He raced to the edge of the basket and sighed in relief when he saw Mr. Dinkles safely clinging to the side. With great care, he pulled the worm back up into the balloon’s interior, his smile returning. "Right then, let's get moving—wait a minute!" His eyes widened in shock as he looked around and realized they were soaring high above the ground. "Hey! Poppy, where are you flying us?"
Willow crossed her arms and smirked playfully at her friend. "We're on a world tour, of course! Welcome to the party!" 
"We're on a mission to help Barb unite the Trolls, and I am thrilled you’re along for the ride!" Poppy added, her enthusiasm infectious as she beamed at Biggie. Branch, standing beside her, waved his arms dramatically, as if attempting to dispel the very notion of his involvement in this adventure. 
"I did what in the who now?" Biggie asked, brows furrowed with concern.
"Hey, man," Branch replied, puffing out an annoyed breath. "Welcome to the club of confusion."
Willow chuckled, wrapping an arm around Branch's shoulders affectionately. "Oh please, you would’ve been bored to tears waiting for me and Poppy to come home," she teased, her playful tone coaxing a reluctant roll of Branch's eyes.
"And I hope you didn’t devour all the cotton candy," Poppy chimed in as she made her way over to the towering pile of sweets. "Because Barb is going to love it." Branch cast a glance at the ornate box beside him, trying to hide the commotion happening within it as the flower-patterned cover began to fall away. Anxiously, he scrambled to fix it before Poppy could catch sight of what lay inside. 
"Branchifer?" Poppy inquired, her voice laced with curiosity as she noticed his unease.
Too late; her keen eyes spotted the box. 
Clearing his throat, Branch leaned casually against the box, attempting a nonchalant smile. “Y-Yes, Poppifer?”
"What is this?" Poppy asked, her attention laser-focused. She dropped the cotton candy from her hands and took a step closer.
"Oh, it’s nothing! Just a little… you know, man stuff," Branch stammered, hopping onto the lid of the box to obstruct her view.
Poppy gasped, her eyes lighting up. "I love man stuff!" With a determined tug, she lifted the lid, Branch teetering precariously on top. Inside, the box was filled with an assortment of sharp sticks and jagged rocks. "Weapons?" she exclaimed, disappointment flooding her voice. "Come on, Branch, for shame!" She picked up one of the sticks and waved it mockingly. "Violence never solves anything, you know!"
As if on cue, a sudden commotion erupted when she tossed the stick and it landed in Mr. Dinkles’ mouth. Biggie's eyes widened at the sight, and he instinctively squeezed his worm. The stick shot out of Mr. Dinkles' mouth and careened toward Branch, who caught it without looking away from Poppy.
"I'm not saying we have to use them," Branch asserted with a grin, trying to downplay the situation. "I just think it’s smart to be prepared in case we need them." Willow, still thoughtful, reached for one of the sticks, considering that it might be wise to have some means of defense for whatever lay ahead.
Poppy cradled the stick Branch had just caught. "We won’t need these unless you think pointy sticks will help you listen better, or if these rocks will allow you to understand someone else's perspective," she countered, playfully undoing his argument. With a swift movement, she placed the rock back in the box, but her eyes lit up at a glint she noticed within. Pulling out a pair of brass knuckles painted bright gold, she exclaimed, "And what about these? Is this... what—you kidding me? Jewelry?" She held them up to the light, a playful smile creeping across her face.
"Gi-Give me that!" Branch exclaimed, snatching the knuckles from her hands and hastily returning them to the box. Willow’s gaze sharpened, her curiosity piqued. "Where did you even get those?" 
"We don't even know what's out there," he said nervously, trying to regain some authority. Poppy tilted her head and smiled softly at him, a warmth in her expression that melted away some of his tension. But then, in an unexpected move, she kicked the entire box of weapons over the side of the basket. 
"Wait!" Branch cried, rushing to the edge, panic coursing through him. "No—oh man!” He turned to Poppy, exasperated. “Just so you know, I whittled those for hours!”
Stepping beside him, Willow placed a comforting hand on her brother's shoulder. "Branch?" she began, her voice deceptively sweet. It had a hint of mischief that made him flinch. "Were those my brass knuckles?”
Branch chuckled nervously, his eyes darting to Willow. "What? No, no, those weren’t yours. They just—looked like yours." The unimpressed look on Willow's face told him she wasn’t buying it. He let out a deep sigh. "Okay, fine. Yeah, they were yours. I may have snagged them from the bunker before I left to find you and Poppy."
Willow narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms. "You owe me a new set."
Suddenly, Biggie peered over the edge of the balloon with a furrowed brow. "Guys," he said slowly, his voice laden with concern. "You might want to take a look at this."
Willow, along with the others, peered out from the side of the balloon, her breath catching in her throat. "It's awful," she muttered, her heart sinking as she took in the devastation below. The once-vibrant buildings lay in ruins, crumbling to the ground, while an ominous shroud of smoke and ash billowed into the sky, obscuring the sun.
"This is going to take a lot of hugs," Branch said, his usually bright color dimming in response to the bleak sight. Without a word, Willow wrapped her arms around her brother, seeking comfort in their bond.
As the balloon descended and touched down on the ground, the group climbed out cautiously, their eyes scanning the desolation. Branch stepped on a music sheet that floated down from the air, its notes barely visible through the grime. He picked it up, eyes wide. "Whoa. Something gnarly happened here."
"Hello?" a voice called out, breaking the tense silence. The four Trolls jumped in unison, startled. Branch instinctively grabbed a nearby stick, brandishing it like a weapon as he called out, "Who goes there? Are you nice, or are you mean?"
"We're nice," Poppy said quickly, raising her hands to show she meant no harm and gesturing for Branch to lower his makeshift weapon. "Really nice."
"Yeah," Branch relented, tossing the stick aside but still harboring suspicions. "But not too nice. So don’t even try anything funny."
From behind a pile of sand, a small musical instrument peeked out, its brass gleaming dimly in the light. It rolled toward the Trolls and offered a weak but friendly "Hi."
Poppy gently scooped up the little instrument, her heart swelling with compassion. "What is this place?" she asked, her voice soft and curious.
"It used to be called Symphonyville," the instrument replied, its voice trembling with nostalgia. "It was home to the Classical Music Trolls. But that was in the before."
"What happened here?" Poppy pressed, her brow furrowing as the instrument began to recount the tragic tale of Symphonyville. Its voice grew heavy as it described the darkness that had fallen upon the land, the destruction wrought by Queen Barb of the Hard Rock Trolls, who sought to seize the Classic string.
Willow listened, her horror mounting with every word. As the little instrument finished its tale, she turned to Branch, her eyes wide with fear. "We were not prepared for this mission," she admitted, her voice low. "This place is so much bigger than home. If they couldn’t hold off Queen Barb… what hope do we have?"
“Barb doesn’t want to unite us,” Poppy realized, a frown creasing her forehead. “She wants to destroy us.”
Branch stepped away from his sister and moved to Poppy's side, urgency in his demeanor. "We need to make sure our own string is safe," he urged. Willow nodded emphatically; they couldn’t allow the Rock Queen to take their music, just as she had taken it from the Classical Trolls.
"Uh, our string is safe," Poppy announced, pulling a shiny pink string from her hair. It shimmered with a vibrant energy, a potent reminder of their tribe’s identity — the Pop String was with them.
"What?" Branch exclaimed in disbelief, hastily shifting to hide the string from view. "Poppy, are you—are you crazy?!"
"I thought it was a good idea at the time," Poppy insisted, her voice shaky yet resolute. "I—I can't believe another queen would use her power for evil."
"Okay," Branch sighed, raising his arms in frustration. "Change of plans. We need to get it to safety as fast as we can and get everyone to the bunker."
"Uh, no," Poppy countered, the determination in her eyes blazing. "Change of plans. We have to stop Barb from destroying all music. If we don’t do it, then who will?"
"But Poppy," Biggie chimed in, fear creeping into his voice. "You said this could be handled with hugs. How are we gonna hug our way out of this one?"
"It's okay, Biggie," Poppy assured him, trying to instill confidence despite the gravity of their situation.
"Really?" Biggie asked, glancing around nervously. "It's okay to be terrified? When am I gonna learn to stay away from the cotton candy?!"
Willow rolled her eyes, recognizing Biggie's predictable antics. He did have a problem.
"No," Poppy reiterated firmly. "As your queen, I promise that I will protect you, no matter what. I... pinky promise." Willow narrowed her eyes at the mention of a pinky promise, troubled by its implications.
Biggie gasped, turning to Poppy with wide eyes. "Poppy, you know you can't go back on a pinky promise."
"Never did, never will," Poppy affirmed, her resolve unshaken.
"Poppy, this is serious business," Willow interjected, her expression grave. "A pinky promise is binding. You can't promise to protect him out here. We don’t even know what’s lurking in the shadows."
"And I’ll keep him safe," Poppy vowed, meeting Willow’s worried gaze with fierce determination. "I’ll even make you a pinky promise if it'll make you feel better."
Willow frowned and took a step back. "I'm not trying to force you into anything. You shouldn’t be making Biggie one in the first place."
Poppy turned to Biggie, her heart softening as she held out her pinky. Biggie, looking at Mr. Dinkles for reassurance, nodded and extended his own pinky. They locked fingers, sealing their promise. The two friends floated momentarily in the air, and a wave of pink energy radiated from them, brushing against the landscape and sending their balloon tumbling away.
Branch scoffed, annoyance creeping into his expression. "Great. Just great."
Willow sighed, her shoulders slumping. "We’re going to spend the rest of this trip keeping them safe, aren’t we?" Branch nodded, and together they approached Poppy, who was studying a map on the ground.
"We have to get to the Country Music Trolls in Lonesome Flats before Barb does," Poppy said, her voice barely concealing the weight of her determination. She turned to the little instrument, her eyes alight with hope. "Will you come with us?"
"Oh, no," the instrument replied, looking downcast. "Someone must stay to rebuild. And Pennywhistle is that woodwind for the job."
Willow watched with concern as Poppy handed the little woodwind a hard hat, a gesture of encouragement. "Are we sure it's a good idea to leave her here alone?" Willow asked, unease settling in her chest.
Branch shrugged, an apprehensive smile on his face. "Probably not, but she seems determined to stay. And hey, at least she’ll be safe. If Queen Barb thought she took everyone already, she’s not likely to come back."
Willow nodded slowly, weighing Branch’s words. "Yeah, that makes sense." She sighed again and gazed down the mountain, her heart racing with a mix of apprehension and resolve. Now, they had to navigate their way to Lonesome Flats without falling into the clutches of the Hard Rock Trolls. 

Chapter Text

Willow let out a sigh of relief as they finally trudged into Lonesome Flats. After hours of walking on dusty trails under the scorching sun, her weary legs craved a break. "This must be where the Country Music Trolls live," Poppy said eagerly, her eyes darting down at the frayed edges of her map, filled with scribbles and drawings.

As they stepped into the town, Branch glanced around, his shoulders slumping slightly. "Well, it looks like nobody is here," he said, a false hint of disappointment coloring his voice. Willow surveyed the quiet streets; an eerie stillness hung in the air. It was true; not a single Troll was visible in the quaint little town. “We’re too late—time to go home,” he announced, preparing to turn back. “Come on, guys, let’s go.” Branch took a step backward, ready to retrace their path.

“There is no ‘I quit’ in ‘team,’” Poppy declared, determination shining in her eyes as she marched purposefully down the sunbaked road, undeterred by the emptiness around them. With a resigned roll of his eyes, Branch sighed but followed along, and soon the rest of the group fell into step behind Poppy, their curiosity piqued.

“This place is nice,” Willow remarked, taking in the charming architecture with its wooden facades and rustic decorations. “The Country Trolls don’t live in pods like we do.” She grinned playfully as she playfully nudged her brother's shoulder. “They have something called a ‘saloon.’ I wonder what’s inside there?”

Branch shrugged, his brow furrowed in contemplation as he looked around. “It’s different, that’s for sure.” Willow nodded enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with wonder. Everything felt new and exciting. As they continued their exploration of Lonesome Flats, a sudden strum of a guitar caught their attention. It echoed brightly through the stillness, breaking the quiet spell of the town.

When the clock struck noon, a Troll emerged from the saloon, stepping into the sunlight with a carefree swagger. With a wide grin, she began to sing, her voice rich and melodic. The Pop Trolls instinctively ducked behind a nearby barrel, their hearts racing with the thrill of discovery, while Willow leaned forward, curiosity getting the best of her as she tried to catch a glimpse of the unexpected performance.

(Delta Dawn)

We don't hope for

Making things better

All we want is to

Keep it together

Every day is a rainy day

No change in the weather

This kind of life

Has made our hearts

As hard as leather

And all these tears are from

The dust in our eyes

And all these years

Just keep on

Passing us by

We all know that we're just

That's the way it goes when you're just

Born to die

"This song is so sad," Poppy said, her brow furrowing as she frowned. The haunting melody lingered in the air, pulling at her heartstrings. It was hard for her to wrap her mind around how any song could evoke such deep emotions—especially after the difficult events they had recently experienced.

"Yeah," Branch replied quietly, nodding in agreement. "It is sad. But you know, life can be pretty sad sometimes too, so I like it.” His voice carried a tinge of melancholy as he reflected on their shared challenges. "What do you think, Willow?" he called out, turning to share the moment with his sister, only to realize with a start that she was no longer by his side.

Anxious, he scanned the surroundings, his heart racing slightly. "Where did Willow go?"

Biggie, observing Branch's sudden worry, gently nudged him with an elbow and pointed toward a small cluster of Country Trolls gathered a short distance away. There stood Willow, enthralled as she absorbed the performance. Her eyes sparkled with wonder, captivated by the soothing tones of the Country Troll leader's voice, twisting and soaring through the air like a fragile dream. The music wrapped around her, and for a moment, the sadness that pervaded the other Trolls’ hearts seemed to melt away.

(Delta Dawn)

I hear the voice of a whippoorwill singin'

She don't know all the comfort she's bringin'

We all know the sound of when the truth is ringin'

Yeah, it hurts your soul just like a bumblebee stingin'

Branch let out a deep groan, his hands falling heavily over his face in frustration. "Of course she is," he muttered under his breath, exasperated. Leave it to his sister to wander off during a mission that was already fraught with danger and uncertainty.

Poppy, observing the scene unfold, felt a pang of dismay. "They must not understand that music is meant to uplift the spirit," she mused, a frown of concern knitting her brow. The atmosphere shifted as the singer gestured invitingly toward Willow, who seemed to be entranced by the melodic allure. Without hesitating, Willow made her way over to Delta and together they began to weave the next lines of the song, their voices mingling with the haunting melody that filled the air.

(Delta Dawn and Willow)

And all these tears are from the dust in our eyes

And all these years just keep on passin' us by

And all this misery makes it hard to deny

We all know that we're just born to die

That's the way it goes when you're just born to die

Poppy immersed herself in planning a joyful surprise to lift the spirits of the Country Trolls, her heart lighting up at the thought of their smiles. Meanwhile, Branch stood nearby, observing his sister as she radiated happiness, her voice soaring as she sang alongside the vibrant trolls she had just met. The Country Trolls moved rhythmically around their charismatic leader, their laughter and music creating a warm, inviting atmosphere. The leader, a towering figure with a gentle smile, gently nudged Willow to step forward and take the spotlight. With a nod of encouragement, she urged her to finish the final notes of the song, fostering a sense of unity and celebration within the colorful crowd.

(Willow)

All these tears are from the dust in our eyes

And all these years just keep on passin' us by

And all this misery makes it hard to deny

We all know that we're just born to die

That's the way it goes when you're just born to die

Willow stood frozen, her eyes wide with shock as one of the Country Trolls suddenly clutched his chest and collapsed into an open coffin. The haunting melody coming from the group faded just as swiftly as the Troll's consciousness. The leader, with a calm demeanor, closed the coffin gently, a slight smile still lingering on her lips. "What just happened?" Willow asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

The leader turned her piercing gaze towards Willow, and the smile expanded into a warm grin. "Oh, sweet pea, don’t you worry yourself. That’s just how life goes sometimes." Her expression softened a bit as she added, "By the way, that was some impressive singing you did there." Willow couldn't help but feel a rush of pride at the compliment.

Curiosity bubbled inside her, and she spoke a bit sheepishly, "Oh! I’m sorry for barging in on your song. I didn't mean to interrupt. Thank you for letting me join in, though."

The leader nodded appreciatively, her eyes twinkling with interest. "You’re new here, aren’t you? Who are you?"

Willow smiled, nervous but eager to engage. "My name is Willow. I think I’m a Pop Troll?" She shrugged lightly, trying to convey her uncertainty. "I only just found out recently."

The leader’s eyes brightened with recognition. "Well, you sing with the heart and soul of a true Country Troll," she said, her tone playful as she led Willow toward a group of other Country Trolls. They welcomed her with open arms, their smiles inviting. “And you are just adorable,” she added, watching as a blush crept across Willow’s cheeks.

"My name is Delta Dawn," the leader introduced herself, placing a gentle hand on Willow’s head as if to bless her. “I’m both the mayor and sheriff around here. Just call me Delta.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Delta!” Willow replied, her voice infused with enthusiasm. She looked around curiously at the gathering of Trolls, sensing a different energy in the air. “Could you tell me more about your music?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. “I want to understand more about different cultures and how they differ from Pop.”

Delta regarded Willow thoughtfully, taking in her innocent expression and eager demeanor. A grin slowly spread across her face as she nodded. “I don’t see why not. There’s a lot to learn, and you seem eager.” Her gaze shifted toward the other Pop Trolls gathered nearby, and a look of concern crossed her face. “What’s going on over here?” she asked, narrowing her eyes at the scene unfolding.

A purple Troll beside Delta stepped forward, his voice a low growl. “Growly, growly, growl.”

Delta placed a calming hand on the Troll's shoulder. “Now, take it easy, Growly Pete. They seem to be Willow’s friends. Besides, I can’t help but feel a bit bad for them.” Her expression turned earnest as she surveyed the Pop Trolls. “Looks like they got beat up by a rainbow,” she remarked, her tone tinged with empathy.

Willow followed Delta's gaze and grimaced at the sight before her. Her brother, Branch, was deep in conversation with Poppy and Biggie, the three of them animatedly engaged in what seemed like an intense discussion. Branch frequently shot nervous glances in Willow's direction, a clear indication that whatever they were discussing was weighing heavily on his mind. "Oh no," she muttered under her breath. Poppy always had a knack for devising schemes, and Willow could feel a knot of anxiety tightening in her stomach.

She turned to Delta, standing firmly beside her, and said, "It won't mean much, but I should apologize in advance for whatever trouble they're about to stir up."

Delta furrowed her brow in confusion. "What do you mean?" she asked with a hint of concern. "What’s about to happen?"

Willow shrugged helplessly, her eyes darting back to the trio. "Honestly, who knows? It probably won’t end well, especially if I don’t intervene right now."

Just as she began to stride toward her brother and his friends, she felt a firm grip on her arm. Willow glanced up to see Delta holding her back with an earnest expression. "Willow, they look about your age. Are they?" Delta questioned, scrutinizing the trio with a thoughtful gaze. When Willow nodded in confirmation, Delta continued, "Then they're old enough to make their own choices—and to handle the consequences that come with them. You're not their babysitter."

Willow sighed, her shoulders slumping in resignation as she stepped back. "Yeah, you’re probably right." Still, a sense of dread gnawed at her insides. Despite Branch being the eldest among them and Poppy’s title as queen, she couldn't shake the feeling that bad decisions were just around the corner.

Peering over at the trio, her embarrassment mounted as she watched Branch, Poppy, and Biggie burst into a spontaneous mashup of some of the most beloved Pop songs throughout their history, their voices blending in a mix of enthusiasm and chaos.

Delta stared at them, her expression a blank canvas as the last notes faded away. Just then, a young Country Troll named Holly Darlin’ approached Delta and Willow, a warm smile on her face. Willow, mortified, buried her face in her hands, unable to meet the mayor’s gaze.

"Take Willow over to the saloon and get her something to drink," Delta instructed Holly. "While you’re at it, tell her all about our music scene while I deal with these three."

Holly Darlin’ nodded energetically and grasped Willow’s arm. "Alright, let’s go! I promise, we’ve got some sasparilla with your name on it,” she said, keeping the mood light as she led Willow away.

As they walked, Willow glanced back anxiously at her brother and friends. "They’re going to be okay, right? That 'Who Let the Dogs Out' part was definetely too much,” she fretted, shaking her head. “I mean, they were causing property damage. But I know they didn’t mean any harm."

Holly glanced back, cringing slightly. "Don’t stress about it too much. Delta might just stick them in jail for a little while," she said, trying to reassure Willow. When she noticed the panic spreading across Willow's face, she quickly added, "But it'll only be for a couple of hours. Think of it like a time-out."

As they reached the saloon, Holly sat Willow down with the drink she promised. After taking a sip, Willow’s mood improved as the fizzy sweetness filled her mouth, the flavors of vanilla and caramel brightening her spirits, even if the slight hint of licorice didn’t sit well with her. "Okay," she said, feeling a sense of calm wash over her. "As long as it’s not for too long. We have places we need to be."

Holly raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Where are y’all going, anyway? And why are you on foot?"

Willow took a deep breath, unsure of how much she should reveal without consulting her leader first. "Poppy made this pinky promise, and the next thing we knew, our balloon floated away," she explained, shrugging her shoulders at the puzzled look on Holly’s face. "As for where we’re headed? Well, we’re kind of traveling to visit the other tribes."

Holly nodded, a smile creeping across her face. "Sounds like fun." She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow inquisitively. "But I sense there's more to the story than that." When Willow fell silent, a hint of hesitation flickering in her eyes, Holly shrugged it off. "But that's entirely your business. Delta mentioned you wanted to learn about our music, right?" With a flick of her wrist, she produced a well-worn guitar, its surface polished from years of playing, and handed it to Willow. "Let’s get started."

"Country music is about raw emotion," Holly began, her voice warm and inviting. "Whether it's joy or sorrow, it conveys sentiments that others can relate to deeply. Take the song you helped sing earlier. What prompted you to join in?"

Willow's fingers danced lightly over the strings, the gentle sound echoing in the cozy saloon. She sighed, a distant look shimmering in her eyes. "I don’t know... When I heard the lyrics, it transported me back to my childhood in the Troll Tree. Back then, we often felt like we were destined for despair, like life was this endless cycle of struggle. Your song had a way of voicing those feelings, putting into the world what I could never say."

A dry chuckle escaped her lips as she caught Holly's puzzled expression. "It’s a long story," she added quickly, anticipating Holly’s curiosity. "So, if I understand correctly, Country music is about translating those feelings into words that resonate universally, right?"

"It's a bit more nuanced than that," Delta interjected, stepping into the saloon with an air of authority. Her presence instantly commanded attention. "But what you’ve grasped is a solid foundation." Delta dedicated the next quarter of an hour to unfolding the intricate layers of the genre for Willow, explaining how Country music weaves personal experience into broader themes of love, loss, and resilience. She patiently demonstrated a few basic chords on the guitar, her long fingers moving effortlessly over the neck of the instrument.

Willow's face lit up, her initial worries about her brother slipping momentarily from her mind, replaced by excitement and curiosity. "I think I'm starting to get it!" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with determination. She glanced at Delta, an unspoken question lingering in the air. "Can I try to play something?"

Delta nodded with an encouraging smile, and Willow closed her eyes, taking a deep breath to center herself. With newfound confidence, she positioned her fingers on the strings and began to play, the soft notes of her music filling the saloon with a sense of hope and possibility.

(Willow)

If I die young, bury me in satin

Lay me down on a bed of roses

Sink me in the river at dawn

Send me away with the words of a love song

Oh-oh, oh-oh

“What were you thinking of when you sang that?” Holly Darlin' asked, her curiosity evident in her bright eyes.

Willow shrugged, her fingers absentmindedly strumming the strings of her guitar. “I was just mulling over this adventure we're on. With each passing hour, it seems to get more perilous. I guess I’m trying to come to terms with the unsettling reality that I may never make it back home.”

Delta looked at her intently. “Your friend warned me about Queen Barb and her World Tour. What exactly are you all planning to do?”

Willow sighed heavily, placing the guitar down with a gentle thud. “We’re travelling to the different Troll tribes to get some help against Queen Barb. Individually, we stand no chance. She's terrifyingly powerful, and facing her alone would be a recipe for disaster.”

Delta scoffed at Willow's words. “We can handle ourselves,” she declared, her voice firm. “You kids seem to underestimate us.”

Willow met Delta's gaze, shaking her head dismissively. “I’m not doubting your tribe's strength,” she said, her tone heavier. “You Country Trolls could likely take on a lot. I’m worried about my own Tribe. We left under the mistaken belief that Queen Barb's invitation to Poppy was for a grand celebration. Who would have imagined it would lead us into such danger?”

“Maybe you kids shouldn’t have abandoned your tribe in the first place,” the bartender interjected, handing Delta a cold bottle. She took a swig, savoring the refreshment. “You would’ve been safer back home.”

Willow rolled her eyes, sipping her sarsaparilla with a bitterness that matched her thoughts. “I highly doubt it,” she muttered darkly. “I’ve witnessed the devastation she wrecked upon the Classical Trolls. My people wouldn’t have stood a chance against her onslaught.”

Setting her bottle down, Willow’s shoulders slumped slightly, revealing a weariness beyond her years. “Honestly, I don’t know why we’re even trying to find help,” she admitted softly, vulnerability creeping into her voice. “No one came to our aid when we needed it most. Why would anyone care to support us now?”

“What do you mean?” Delta asked, her curiosity piqued as she leaned in. The other Trolls in the saloon quieted, their attention drifting towards Willow, their interest now fully engaged.

Willow shifted uncomfortably, her thoughts racing back to her Tribe’s suffering. “I know we’ve had our differences in the past,” she began, her voice steady but laced with raw emotion. “But I didn’t even realize there were other genres and Tribes out there until yesterday. It’s been weighing heavily on my mind. If there are other groups of Trolls, then why didn’t anyone come to help my people when we were being picked off one by one to be eaten? Why did the rest of you choose to turn a blind eye, seemingly indifferent to our problems?”

Holly stared at Willow, her expression a mix of shock and concern. "Eaten?" she echoed incredulously. "What..." Her words were cut off by the sudden, jarring sound of a loud crash emanating from outside the saloon, reverberating through the wooden beams.

Delta's demeanor shifted as she narrowed her eyes, her voice steady and commanding. "Holly, make sure Willow gets something to eat." Holly nodded, determination etching her features as she turned back to Willow. "Willow, you need to stay here. We'll have more to discuss when I return."

Willow nodded absently, her gaze drifting back to the half-empty bottle resting on the table. Although lunch sounded appealing before she left with her brother and their friends, time slipped away, and it was clear they wouldn't be able to count on the Country Trolls for assistance.

A few moments later, Holly re-entered the saloon and approached Willow with a plate in hand, presenting her with a burger. "Here, have this, Willow. When was the last time you ate?" The vibrant colors of the saloon around them faded as Willow studied the blue meat that appeared both unusual and unappetizing.

She shrugged, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "Probably sometime yesterday? But I'm really not hungry," she said, pushing the burger away.

With a sigh that echoed her concern, Holly gently drew the plate closer and took the burger back. "I understand. You’ve been grappling with some pretty heavy thoughts. It’s hard to focus on food when you’re dealing with so much," she said sympathetically. "Why not tell me about your music? We didn't even know Pop Trolls were still around until we encountered you and your friends."

As they conversed, the atmosphere in the saloon shifted; the heavy weight of Willow's worries began to lift slightly. They exchanged stories about their musical styles, discovering both their differences and unexpected similarities. By the time Delta Dawn returned, Willow felt lighter, having absentmindedly finished the vibrant burger that Holly had insisted she eat.

"Hey, Delta," Willow greeted, her smile fading rapidly as she caught sight of Delta's tense expression. "What happened?"

"I'm afraid I have some troubling news," Delta replied, her gaze steady on Willow. "Your friends were busted out of our jail cell not long ago. They managed to escape."

Willow's heart sank at the revelation. "They’re gone?" she asked, disbelief lacing her words. They were supposed to be in this adventure together, right? The thought of them leaving her behind felt unbearable.

Delta offered a reassuring smile, though her eyes betrayed her concern. "Now, I’m sure they didn’t intend to leave you behind," she reassured the Pop Troll. "They were taken by a Country Troll, though I can’t say which one—he didn’t look familiar." She paused, collecting her thoughts. "I'm confident they'll be back soon. In the meantime, you’re more than welcome to stay here with us." She sat on a chair at the table by Willow. "You can tell me what you meant earlier about getting eaten."

"My brother left me behind," Willow murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, as her ears drooped slightly in a mix of sorrow and uncertainty. A wave of loneliness washed over her, amplifying the ache of their separation. "We've never been this far apart from each other."

"I'm so sorry, hon," Delta said with genuine sympathy, her brow furrowing in concern. "I can't even begin to imagine what you must be going through." She offered a warm, reassuring smile, hoping to bring some comfort. "How about you get some rest? We can talk about everything in the morning. I have a spare room in my house that you’re more than welcome to stay in if you'd like."

Willow's heart lightened at the thought of not having to face the night alone. She nodded appreciatively, a soft smile breaking through her earlier gloom. "Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Thank you so much, Delta. You've been incredibly kind to me."

Leading the way, Delta Dawn guided Willow into the cozy guest room, decorated with gentle hues and soft, inviting decor. "I'll have breakfast ready in the morning, and you’re more than welcome to join me," she said kindly, her warm eyes sparkling with a maternal warmth. "Sleep well, sweet pea. I’ll see you in the morning."

Willow nodded, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and lingering sadness. "Goodnight, Delta," she replied softly, a small flicker of hope igniting within her. As she climbed into the plush bed and tucked herself under the covers, she gazed out the window at the vast, starry sky. "Goodnight, Branch," she whispered into the stillness of the night, tears brimming in her eyes. "Be careful." The words felt like a fragile prayer, and she closed her eyes, longing for the comfort of her brother's presence.

____

Branch lay on the gently swaying raft that Hickory had expertly constructed, gazing up at the vast expanse of the night sky. The stars twinkled like distant diamonds, casting a soft glow over the tranquil waters. Nearby, Poppy and Hickory had settled into a comfortable slumber, their quiet breathing harmonizing with the soothing sounds of the night. Biggie, having faced down the Smooth Jazz Troll in a narrow escape, had ventured off into the shadows, leaving the remaining trio to reflect on their harrowing journey.

As the events of the day replayed in Branch's mind like a haunting melody, a pang of panic surged through him. He recalled the moment they had dashed away from Lonesome Flats, his heart racing when he realized they had inadvertently left Willow behind. It felt as if a heavy weight had settled in his chest. Yet, Poppy's calming voice had steadied him, assuring him that Willow would be alright—mad, yes, but ultimately safe. Her words had provided a flicker of hope, but as the distance between them continued to grow, Branch’s anxiety was rekindled.

Now, as he lay there beneath the celestial canopy, the reality of their separation sank in deeper. This was the longest and farthest he had ever been from Willow, and an ache of longing filled him. He rolled over, gazing toward the horizon where land met sky, and let out a deep sigh, his breath mingling with the crisp night air. "Goodnight, Willow," he whispered into the stillness, his voice barely rising above a soft echo. "I'm sorry I left you behind." The weight of his regret hung heavy in the air, mingling with the stars that twinkled above, a stark reminder of what he held dear and the bonds that stretched across the distance between them.

Chapter Text

When Willow awoke to the enticing aroma of sizzling bacon and freshly scrambled eggs, she felt a mix of comfort and anxiety. With a long yawn, she pushed aside her covers and stepped out of her bedroom. As she entered the kitchen, she spotted Delta, a warm smile lighting up her face as she arranged place settings on the table.
"Good morning, Willow! Did you sleep well?" Delta's cheerful tone matched the bright morning light spilling through the window.
Willow shrugged, her brow slightly furrowed. "Yeah, I guess." The truth was, sleep had eluded her for most of the night. Her thoughts had been clouded with concern for her brother and friends, racing from one worry to another, leaving little room for rest. "Thanks again for letting me stay here for the night," she added, appreciating the hospitality.
"Of course!" Delta replied warmly, placing a steaming plate of bacon and eggs in front of Willow. The delicious food momentarily distracted her from her worries. "Now, why don’t you share with me the whole 'getting eaten' ordeal you mentioned yesterday?"
Willow sighed, taking a small bite of her eggs and staring pensively at her plate. "Where to begin?" she murmured, her mind racing back to the tumultuous events that had shaped her life.
"How about with the beginning?" Delta suggested, joining her at the table with her own plate. "It’s been ages since anyone’s heard from the Pop Trolls. We thought you all might have gone extinct."
Willow nodded slowly, a hint of despair in her voice. "That certainly explains why we never received any help," she mused. Then, as she chewed thoughtfully, she gathered her thoughts. "So, after the Tribes separated, the Pop Tribe hosted this grand party that caught the attention of these enormous creatures called the Bergens. For the longest time, it was believed that Bergens were incapable of feeling happiness. Their lives were colored by misery, day in and day out. But then, one of them came up with this bizarre idea—to eat a Troll."
Delta gasped, her eyes widening in shock. "Really? That sounds horrifying!"
Willow continued, her tone grave. "Eating a Troll made that Bergen experience such intense joy that it excited the others. They soon started devouring Pop Trolls in a desperate bid to feel something—anything resembling happiness." As she spoke, Willow crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. Her gaze dropped to the floor, the weight of history pressing heavily on her shoulders. "They decimated our numbers to the point where everyone could fit within the main Troll Tree, and then they decided to slow down. They established a twisted Holiday called 'Trollstice'—the one day a year when Trolls could be eaten. In time, they built Bergen Town around it and even erected a cage to keep us confined. For generations, my people were trapped inside that tree, living in constant fear, until about twenty-one years ago. That’s when we finally escaped, and Trollstice was canceled."
A spark of hope ignited in Willow's eyes as she glanced up at Delta. "But it gets better! As of last year, we no longer need to live in fear of being eaten. Queen Poppy made peace with the Bergens, and they made it illegal to eat a Troll. Now, we're friends with them!"
Delta stared at Willow, her expression a mixture of disbelief and admiration. "So, let me get this straight—the entire Pop Tribe was reduced to a sort of livestock?"
Willow nodded emphatically, her voice still tinged with sorrow. "My grandma used to tell us stories about how even her grandmother grew up in that tree, living in fear and hiding from the Bergens."
Delta shook her head in disbelief, a chuckle escaping her lips. "And you all managed to befriend the very beings that feasted on your people? You Pop Trolls are crazier than I thought! I don’t know if I could ever bring myself to befriend a giant species that once hunted us." 
Willow let out a laugh, but it quickly faded into a worried frown as she crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "Yeah, Poppy's pretty special like that," she said, her voice tinged with concern. "But now Poppy has convinced my brother to embark on a dangerous and unpredictable mission to either stop or befriend Queen Barb. They left me behind to rally the other Troll tribes, without any real understanding of what they were getting into or what the other tribes were really like." A pang of anxiety washed over her as she nervously tugged at her hair. "I might never see my brother again."
Delta, sensing Willow’s distress, gently placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Try not to worry, hon. Your friends will be back safe and sound, I promise.” She sighed softly when Willow remained silent, clearly lost in her own thoughts. “I should apologize for what I said earlier. I had no idea that the Pop Trolls had endured so much hardship. I want you to know that, despite the history, we never would have allowed them to face extinction if we had been aware of their plight. Why wouldn’t your leaders reach out for help?”
Willow looked up, her brow furrowing further in confusion. “After everything Pop did? What do you mean? We were always told that the Tribes split apart because they could no longer tolerate each other’s music.”
“Are you joking?” Delta replied, her eyes widening in astonishment. When Willow tilted her head in response, Delta shook her head, her expression shifting to one of sadness. “No, I’m serious. Sweetheart, we all used to get along just fine. It was the Pop Tribe that caused the rift when they stole our strings. Once the other Tribes witnessed what was happening, they hurriedly took their strings and left. They concluded that the best way to protect our music was to separate.” 
“What are you talking about?” Willow’s brow furrowed even deeper, shaking her head in disbelief. “Pop stole the strings? But…” She paused, recalling the ornate harp she had seen adorned with a string. “That does explain the harp I saw.” She looked back at Delta, her expression softening. “We had no idea. And I don’t believe anyone in Pop Village knows that version of history.”
Delta nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense; it’s been so long. But now, all that aside, if we had known your people were in danger, we would have come to help. No Troll deserves to be treated like food.”
Willow offered a grateful smile in response. "Thank you," she said earnestly. "It’s reassuring to know we could have had support if one of our leaders had just asked for it." She paused, glancing upwards. “For what it's worth, I genuinely apologize for what happened. It’s unsettling to think that it was Pop’s actions that set off the divisions in the first place.”
Suddenly, Willow narrowed her eyes, flicking an ear at an ominous rumbling sound in the distance. “Someone’s coming,” she announced, her voice dropping to a whisper. Delta and Willow both stepped outside of Delta's cozy home, peering towards the horizon where an assortment of beetle bikes and angler buses appeared to be approaching.
“Stay back,” Delta instructed Willow cautiously as the vehicles drew closer, coming to a stop in a cloud of dust and excitement. She took a step forward, her demeanor shifting to one of readiness, as the lead angler bus opened up, revealing its occupants.
A Troll with faded purple skin and a striking red mohawk stepped forward from the shadows, an expansive grin stretching across her face. "Mayor Delta of the Country Trolls," she announced confidently, her voice carrying a mix of authority and mischief. "What’s up? I’m here for your string." Her narrowed eyes transfixed on Willow, who shifted uncomfortably under the piercing gaze. "Is that a Pop Troll behind you?" The Rock Troll let out a booming laugh that echoed through the clearing. "So this is where you’ve been hiding! Queen Poppy, huh? Guess I didn’t need to waste my time with bounty hunters after all."
Willow’s heart raced at the mention of bounty hunters. What kind of trouble had she stumbled into? She shifted her weight, trying to gauge Delta’s intentions. "Yeah, I’m going to need your string too,” she replied, her voice steady despite the turmoil inside.
Delta’s expression soured as she growled, gripping her beautifully crafted banjo tightly, its strings shimmering under the faint light. "You want those strings so badly," she challenged, "you’re going to have to take them from us." 
With a determined nod, Willow reached up and pulled a flail from her vibrant hair, the spiked ball swinging dangerously in the air. Delta's eyes widened in shock. "What?" she exclaimed, genuinely surprised. 
Willow smirked, her confidence surging. "You didn’t think I’d leave the village unprepared, did you?" 
A flicker of respect passed between the two Trolls as they squared off against the imposing figure of the Rock Queen, a formidable opponent wrapped in shadows. 
As the battle commenced, Willow quickly learned several crucial lessons about the power of Rock music. She soon realized that it wasn’t just a genre; it was a weapon—a force capable of causing chaos and destruction. The guttural sounds of thundering guitars and driving drums filled the air, and she understood how this very music had wreaked havoc on Symphonyville. But there was more; the soundwaves were like projectiles, striking from a distance, making it nearly impossible for her and Delta to get close enough to the angler buses to launch a counterattack.
As the fight raged on, the depth of her newfound knowledge sent a chill down her spine. This was going to take more than just brute strength; they would need strategy and resilience to confront the daunting power of Rock music.
With a deafening roar, Queen Barb unleashed a blistering riff from her electric guitar, the sound reverberating through the dimly lit saloon. The force of the music sent Willow crashing against the rough wooden wall, a jolt of pain sparking through her body. As she struggled to regain her footing, her annoyance flared when one of the hulking Hard Rock Trolls clamped a powerful hand around her arm, yanking her forward. 
They dragged her directly to the front of the stage, where Queen Barb stood, a sinister grin spreading across her face like a wildfire. "Now, where is the Pop string?" she demanded, her voice dripping with arrogance.
Willow shot back with a defiant sneer. "Like I'm going to tell you anything, Barb. You’ll never get your hands on the Pop string if I have any say in it." Her heart raced—not just from the physical confrontation, but from the fear that bubbled beneath her bravado. 
Queen Barb's smirk widened, revealing a confidence that sent chills down Willow’s spine. She gestured for the trolls to haul Willow into her angler bus, a vehicle that looked as menacing as its occupants. Meanwhile, the country Trolls were being escorted onto their own buses, a stark reminder of their impending journey to Volcano Rock City.
"You'll tell me where you hid that string soon enough,” Queen Barb taunted, her eyes glinting with malice. “We know just the right way to make you spill all your secrets."
Despite the looming threat, Willow couldn’t help but return the queen's smirk, a spark of defiance igniting in her chest. Poppy was long gone, and with her, the Pop string had vanished into obscurity. In truth, even if she wanted to, there was no way she could reveal its location. The queen would have to dig a lot deeper to uncover Willow's secrets—or anyone else's for that matter.
"This is seriously your worst?" Willow asked incredulously, her voice echoing in what felt like a minimalist isolation room. The stark walls and sparse furnishings only reinforced the sense of confinement around her. In hindsight, it made sense—isolation was a powerful tactic among Pop Trolls, whose social nature thrived on companionship and interaction. She imagined the other Troll Tribes experienced similar loneliness. However, for Willow, isolation was nothing new. After years of residing in an underground fear bunker, she had grown accustomed to solitude. There were long stretches when she had been completely alone, waiting for her brother to return with supplies, their only communication through the muffled sounds of the outside world. "This isn't even a proper isolation room," she grumbled under her breath, frustrated that she could still hear the commotion outside. Branch had definitely been given a better confinement arrangement.
Willow sighed, boredom gnawing at her as the hours ticked by since Queen Barb had locked her up. The relentless inquiries about the location of the Pop string were driving her mad. "This is boring!" she shouted, her voice rising in the empty space. Suddenly, a series of soft thumps against the door caught her attention. "Hello?" she called out, her curiosity piqued. To her delight, a familiar fuzzy bat fluttered into view, struggling to navigate the narrow barred window.

Willow's lips curled into a grin. "Hey, little guy! Did you make it back home?" Her smile faltered slightly as she noticed the remnants of glitter clinging to the bat’s fur. "Oh, you’ve still got glitter in your hair, don’t you?" she cooed, reaching out to pull the bat gently into her embrace. "Don’t you worry—I have just the thing to clean up all that sparkle." From within her hair, she produced a spray bottle, carefully applying the solution to the little bat before retrieving a comb to detangle and remove the glitter.
"There you go," she said soothingly, petting the bat’s soft fur affectionately. "Now you’re all nice and clean for your friend." As she settled back on the cold floor, an unexpected wave of fondness washed over her. "I’m surprised to see you here," she admitted, her tone softening as she continued to stroke the bat’s back. "Is your Troll nearby?" 
Just then, a sharp and demanding voice broke through the ambience. "Has anyone seen Debbie?" It echoed ominously across the vacant corridor, and the bat in Willow's arms began to wiggle restlessly. With a sense of urgency, Willow released the bat, watching it fly towards the source of the voice. As it soared through the door, it collided softly with the Troll calling for it. "Debbie!" the Troll exclaimed, exuding relief. As the door swung open, Willow's gaze met Queen Barb’s stern expression, her grip tightening around the newly freed bat. "What did you do to Debbie?" she questioned, glaring daggers at Willow.
"Her name is Debbie?" Willow replied, her smile returning in full force. "That’s utterly adorable!" She waved her glitter solution playfully. "I had my brother whip this up for me. It makes removing glitter so much easier!"
Queen Barb observed her thoughtfully, a hint of curiosity breaking through her stern demeanor as she gently petted Debbie, who was now glitter-free. "That’s impressive" she replied, arching an eyebrow. "So, you have a brother, huh? I didn’t think Queen Poppy had siblings."
Willow's heart sank, a surge of panic cutting through her as she froze in place. Sugar and cupcakes, Barb was right—Poppy had no siblings. "You’re not the Queen! Who are you really?" When Willow fell silent, Queen Barb’s smirk deepened. "Not talking? That’s fine—your silence speaks volumes," she stated, pulling a piece of parchment from her pocket. "Dear Queen Barb, I apologize for the condition of your bat. I tried to assist in removing the glitter, but Queen Poppy insisted you would appreciate her new look. If your bat remains decorated when we meet, I promise to get her cleaned up. Queen Poppy believes we could all be friends. It would be a shame to have to fight you. Respectfully, Willow." 
Barb’s gaze shifted back to Willow, a sly look in her eyes. "You’re Willow, aren’t you?" When Willow nodded, a cautious intrigue washed over her as Barb stepped back to allow room for her to exit the isolation room. "Follow me," the Queen commanded, her tone both authoritative and inquisitive. 
Willow narrowed her eyes, instincts firing as she hesitated. "What do you want?" she asked, her voice laced with suspicion as she took her first cautious step out of confinement. "Where are you taking me?"
"We're about to attack the Funk Trolls," the Queen declared with a wicked grin, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Soon, we’ll have all the strings in our possession—every last one, except for the elusive Pop string. And since you refuse to reveal its whereabouts, you’ve become rather expendable." She shrugged, feigning indifference. "I could throw you in prison with the rest of the Pop Trolls, but that wouldn’t be nearly as entertaining. So, as a token of appreciation for your cleaning of Debbie, I'm granting you free rein of the castle."
"Why are you doing this?" Willow asked, her brow furrowing in confusion. It seemed absurd for the Hard Rock Queen to release her from her impromptu captivity. "What’s in it for you?"
Queen Barb let out a hearty laugh that echoed through the stone corridors. "I like you," she admitted, an unexpected spark of sincerity in her voice. "And let’s be honest—you’re not in a position to pose any threat. We confiscated all your weapons, remember?" Willow sighed and rolled her eyes, the reality settling in: they had stripped her of every tool of defense, leaving her vulnerable. 
"You’re free to roam anywhere you like," Queen Barb continued, her tone light and almost playful. "Feel free to check on our prisoners, raid the fridge, or do whatever else your heart desires." 
"Uh, Your Rockness?" one of the rockers hesitantly spoke up, his voice laced with uncertainty. "I don’t mean to question your judgment, but are you really sure it’s wise to let a Pop Troll wander around freely in the castle?"
"Chill out, Riff," the Queen scoffed, dismissing his concerns with a wave of her hand. "We’re taking the strings with us, so it’s not like she can do anything with them. Besides, she’s just one Pop Troll. What’s the worst that could happen?" 
The two of them watched as Willow meandered down the ornate halls of the castle, her footsteps echoing softly against the stone floor. Riff cast nervous glances at the Pop Troll, his unease palpable. Queen Barb sighed, exasperated by his anxiety. "Fine," she relented, rolling her eyes yet again. "If it’ll calm you down, we'll stick around for a couple of hours and see what she gets up to. Will that make you feel better?" 
Riff nodded, a small sigh of relief escaping him, while Queen Barb huffed in annoyance. "Fine, whatever. Looks like we’ll be babysitting the Pop Troll then."
Willow rolled her eyes at the shadows that trailed her footsteps. They were conspicuously unstealthy, though she imagined they felt little need for discretion within the familiar confines of their home. As she roamed through the sprawling castle, the unsettling ambiance of her surroundings eventually led her down to the dreary prison cells. “Well, she did say I could check on the prisoners,” she muttered to herself, her voice echoing slightly off the damp stone walls. Glancing around at the darkened cells, she called out, “Delta? Are you in there?”
“Willow?” came Delta’s voice, a mixture of relief and hope, as she approached the barred door of her cell. The country Troll exhaled a long sigh as she caught sight of her friend. “Thank goodness you’re okay. I was so worried about you!”
With a warm smile that betrayed her own anxiety, Willow replied, “I’m fine. But what about you? You fell harder than I did when that music hit us.” She tilted her head toward the other cells that housed the Country Trolls. “Are you all alright?”
Delta nodded, though her brow furrowed with concern. “I’m fine, but please don’t worry about us. We’ll manage somehow.” Her gaze drifted to another cell further down the corridor. “But honestly, I’m not too sure about some of the other Trolls down here. They’re struggling.”
Willow’s heart sank at the thought. “Which ones?” she asked, determined to help.
Delta pointed a delicate hand toward a particularly darkened cell. “Those little ones over there. They’re having a really rough time right now. You should see if you can help them.”
Nodding with resolve, Willow walked over to the cell Delta had indicated. Peering through the bars, she called out, “Hey, guys. Are you doing okay in there?” She focused her gaze on the fish-like Trolls inside, noting their sunken cheeks and drooping fins, a clear sign of exhaustion and dehydration.
One of the Trolls, his scales glimmering faintly in the dim light, shot her a look of suspicion. “You’re not a Rock Troll. What do you want with us?” His voice held an edge of skepticism.
“Never mind about what I am,” Willow said, her voice hardening as concern overtook her. “You all look really dehydrated. Are they not taking care of you?”
The Troll snorted dismissively. “We’re prisoners. You really think they care about our well-being?”

“They should care!” Willow exclaimed, glancing back at her shadows. “You two!” she commanded. “Are you seriously trying to let them suffer? They’re aquatic! You have to give them water, or they might die!”
Queen Barb's voice cut through the tension with a dismissive scoff. “They’ll be fine. Before long, they’ll all be Rock Trolls anyway.”
“But before the transformation, they’re still…” She focused on the closest Troll, searching for the right words. “I’m sorry, but what music tribe are you?”
“We’re the Techno Tribe,” the Troll replied, puffing out his chest slightly. “I’m King Trollex.”
Willow nodded thoughtfully. “Even as Techno Trolls, they need water to survive! Did you ever think any of this through?” She felt the frustration bubble within her.
“It’s not like we can just hand them water,” Queen Barb countered, feigning indifference. “They’re Techno Trolls. That’d just be giving them a weapon.”
“They need water!” Willow insisted, her tone unwavering. “Even a little bit would help. You can't go around letting Trolls die because of your thoughtlessness. If you do that, you’ll lose the very subjects you’re trying to control.” She crossed her arms defiantly, her eyes locking onto Barb’s. “Your whole ‘One Nation Under Rock’ dream will fall apart.”
Raising an eyebrow with a mix of skepticism and intrigue, Queen Barb finally relented. “Alright, fine.” She waved her hand at a guard Troll stationed nearby. “Hey! Go fetch some water for the Techno Trolls. Make sure they stay hydrated.”
Willow’s heart soared with a sense of victory, but she remained cautious. “Better?” Barb asked, and Willow nodded in confirmation. “Good. Now, here’s the deal. You will ensure the prisoners have everything they need to stay comfortable until the ‘One Nation Under Rock’ concert. In exchange, you will learn everything about being a Rock Troll. And when the time comes, you’ll be up front on stage with me. What do you say?” 
Willow hesitated, contemplating the gravity of the decision before her. “Fine. I’ll learn about being a Rock Troll if it means I can keep all these other Trolls safe and comfortable.” She held out her hand, determination shining in her eyes. “Deal?”
“Deal,” Queen Barb said, shaking her hand with a smirk. She then turned her attention back to the guard. “You do whatever she asks when it comes to keeping our guests comfortable.” Facing Willow again, Barb added, “I’ll send one of my best Rockers down here later to teach you everything you need to know about being a Rock Troll. I’ll see you in a few hours.”
As the Rock Queen strode away with Riff in tow, Willow felt a sense of weight settle on her shoulders. “Oh, Willow,” Delta said softly, concern etching itself into her features. “What did you just agree to?”
“Whatever it takes to keep the Trolls down here comfortable,” Willow said, her voice resolute. She could handle immersing herself in the world of Rock music if it meant protecting her friends. After all, the true heart of a Troll was worth fighting for, no matter the cost.

Chapter Text

Poppy tried desperately to get the bubble she was in to move toward the Funk Troll spaceship. "We have to get back down there," Poppy said, frustrated. "There's still hope. We can still fix this."

"Poppy, enough," Branch said. He sighed. "I've listened to you and done it your way, and now it's your turn to listen. It's time to get my sister and go home."

"Branch, I'm not like you," Poppy protested. "I can't just give up. Willow will be fine until we fix this. You wanted her safe, didn't you?"

"What about any of this is safe for you?" Branch asked. "She's with the Country Tribe. You don't think they're on Barb's list too ? And I'm not giving up. I want to protect our friends and family. My family, who by the way, you made me leave behind!" Branch groaned in frustration. "She will be so mad when we see her again."

"I can't go home until I've proven myself as a good queen," Poppy argued back .

Branch stared back, unimpressed. "So that's what this is all about?"

"Why are you so upset?" Poppy asked. She didn't understand the turmoil going on in Branch's head.

"Because your dad was right," Branch said. "And Biggie was right and Queen Essence was right. And I've been backing you up even when you ignore them." He laughed incredulously. "I left my sister behind for you! She is alone, and in danger and I can't do anything to help her because we are so far away from each other." He sighed as the bubble finally settled to the ground and popped. "I abandoned her." Just like their brothers did. He shook his head. "But you never listen to me."

"Branch, what are you talking about?"

"You want to be a good queen?" Branch asked. "Good queens actually listen. You know what I heard back there? Differences do matter. Like-like you and me. We're too different to get along." Branch turned away. "Willow spent all our time with the Country Trolls listening and learning about their culture. We could have been doing that. We could have been learning about the others instead of shoving our music in their face. No wonder we were put in jail."

Poppy thought back to their friend Willow. She seemed the most excited about learning from the other Tribes. It was all she could talk about besides the potential dangers of their unknown enemy. She frowned when Branch began to walk away. They were different. Maybe too different. "We are really different," She said.

"So different," Branch confirmed.

"Completely out of harmony," Poppy continued, upset.

"Completely."

"I don't even know why we're friends."

"Neither do I," Branch said before he started walking away. He stopped and sighed. "So, why do I care about you more than anybody else?" He turned to face her. "Weird, right?" He sighed and walked away before looking to the sky. "Please be safe, sis. I don't know what I will do if you're not okay."

If anyone asked Willow, she'd vehemently deny it, but she was genuinely enjoying her unexpected time with the Hard Rock Trolls. The reality of their situation—trapped and awaiting their fate—loomed over her like a shadow, yet she couldn't shake off the thrill of learning about rock music and its vibrant culture. It was a passion she'd long held, and now she found herself in a position where she could actually contribute to helping the prisoners.

King Trollex became a fascinating figure in her life, especially when she kept him well-hydrated. In those moments, he revealed his passion for Techno music, his eyes lighting up as he described pulsating beats and electrifying raves. As she absorbed his enthusiasm, Willow couldn't help but fantasize about attending a rave with him, where the music vibrated through the air like a living entity.

On the other end of the musical spectrum was Trollzart, the flamboyant conductor of the Classical Trolls. With his grand gestures and an air of importance, he exuded confidence that bordered on arrogance, yet beneath that facade lay a genuine kindness that Willow appreciated. Their conversations illuminated her understanding of music without words; they explored how melodies could evoke deep emotions, weaving stories that transcended language.

But her heart sank whenever she thought about the Pop Trolls. She made sure they were looked after as best as she could, yet facing them was an insurmountable challenge. Their capture weighed heavily on her conscience; she knew they were imprisoned because she had chosen to leave with her brother and their queen. And now, without the queen by her side, the burden felt even heavier.

Delta, ever observant, watched Willow navigate her time with the different tribes, a mixture of concern and curiosity etched on her face. While Willow remained helpful and kind, it was evident that she was being influenced by the Hard Rock Tribe. The transformation was unmistakable; gone was the simple, flowing purple dress she had worn at the start of her adventure. In its place was a bold plaid mini skirt paired with fishnet stockings, a striking red halter top, and a worn leather jacket that screamed rebellion. Her hair, once cascading in soft waves, was now straightened and artfully brushed to the side. She sported an edgy industrial piercing in her left ear, alongside a cluster of smaller earrings on the right, and an eyebrow piercing that punctuated her new look.

Willow's Rock teacher, Val Thundershock, turned out to be the epitome of laid-back cool. As Willow delved into the musical intricacies of being a Hard Rock Troll, Val encouraged her to embrace the lifestyle and culture that accompanied it. So when Willow expressed a desire for piercings, Val beamed with excitement and insisted on taking her to get them done.

"You look fantastic, Pop Troll!" Val exclaimed with infectious enthusiasm as she approached Willow.

"Are you really sure?" Willow asked, anxiety creeping into her voice. "I know I said I wanted them, and I do. They look amazing on other Trolls, but do you think I look stupid? Are they too much?"

"Absolutely not," Val replied, shaking her head. "This is all about confidence. Hard Rock Trolls own their choices, and you're no exception. Besides, I bet the queen will love your new look. You’ve practically become one of us, just a tad too bright for the vibe here." The comment made Willow grimace. Despite her fondness for the Hard Rock Tribe, the idea of completely transforming into a Rock Troll didn't sit well with her. Her primary goal was to ensure the prisoners were cared for.

One of the biggest breakthroughs for Willow came from a concept Val referred to as a "rage room." After Willow opened up about her struggles and the pain she felt over her brother and friend leaving her to continue their quest without her, Val recognized the need for a healthy outlet for her pent-up emotions. The idea of a space where she could unleash her frustrations by smashing things with a hammer—embracing the 'Rocker Style'—became incredibly liberating. It was a notion that revitalized her spirit, and she contemplated creating a rage room back in the bunker if she managed to escape this situation.

After spending a whirlwind two days with Val and the other prisoners, Willow finally encountered Queen Barb again. When she stepped into the room above the stage, Barb's gaze traveled from Willow's head to toe, a delighted grin spreading across her face. "Now that's a Hard Rock look," she declared. "You look better than I imagined, though I didn't expect the piercings. It's honestly kind of hot."

Willow instinctively touched one of her earrings, momentarily panicking. "Hot? Does that usually mean infected?" They felt okay, but were they red? Had she neglected them? She was trying her best to take care of them.

Barb tilted her head, a hint of confusion in her eyes, before laughter bubbled up from her. "Funny and cute! I almost forgot you're still a Pop Troll." Her gaze fell on the bass strapped to Willow’s back. "Do you know how to play that?"

Willow felt a rush of heat creep into her cheeks at Barb's compliment. Cute? It was a word she never expected to hear directed at her. Ignoring the awkward feeling, she nodded, her voice slightly timid. "Yeah, Val was teaching me, and I sort of figured it out. She got this for me when we realized how much I was enjoying it."

"Well, let’s see what you’ve got," Queen Barb said, picking up her guitar with a confident flair. She began strumming the iconic opening of "Smoke on the Water," a well-known rock classic. It was a simple song, but it would serve as a perfect gauge of Willow's understanding of the bass. Motioning for Riff to join in, Barb shot Willow an encouraging smile.

As Willow closed her eyes and let the rhythm wash over her, she let herself become part of the music. With renewed focus, she began to play along, her fingers moving deftly over the strings as they melded with the sound of the guitar. Barb's grin widened, and Willow felt a surge of confidence swell within her as she realized she was not just playing; she was truly connecting with the music.

(Queen Barb)

We all came out to Montreux

On the Lake Geneva shoreline

To make records with a mobile

We didn't have much time

Frank Zappa and the Mothers

Were at the best place around

But some stupid with a flare gun

Burned the place to the ground

(Barb, Willow, and Riff)

Smoke on the water

A fire in the sky

Smoke on the water

Willow glanced up at Queen Barb, her expression shifting from uncertainty to relief as she caught sight of the approving smile on the Rock queen's face. It felt as though she had just navigated through a complex maze and emerged victorious—albeit momentarily. Just as she savored this fleeting triumph, a voice sliced through her thoughts, causing her heart to race.

"Willow?"

She turned sharply, her heart sinking at the sight of Poppy, imprisoned behind cold metal bars, her features twisted with betrayal and confusion. The stark contrast between their circumstances was jarring. "What are you doing here?" Poppy's voice trembled, laced with an urgency that tugged at Willow’s heartstrings.

"Riff, go get your drums set up," Queen Barb commanded, her tone leaving no room for disobedience. With a brisk motion, she wrapped an arm around Willow's shoulders, guiding her closer to the captive queen, whose sorrowful gaze pinned Willow in place. "Willow here made some new friends," Barb announced with a sinister glee, her grin widening as she gestured dismissively toward Poppy. "You know, after you left her behind."

Willow felt a flood of emotions well up inside her, anger mixing with hurt as the queen's words hung heavily in the air. "You hurt her in ways you can't even imagine," Barb added with a bitter sweetness, recalling her conversation with Val the previous day about how devastated Willow had been since Poppy's abrupt departure.

Willow’s fists balled at her sides, her voice rising above the tension in the room. "Why is she here and not with the other prisoners?" she demanded, her gaze shifting to Poppy, who stood ghostly pale and wide-eyed. "And where’s Branch? Or did you leave him behind too?" The knot of anxiety in her stomach tightened.

"I want her to have a front-row seat for the concert we're throwing," Queen Barb responded nonchalantly, shrugging as if discussing the weather. "Sorry, I didn't think to mention she was in here before we started playing." Willow took a deep breath, nodding slowly, feeling an inexplicable sense of acceptance wash over her.

Poppy’s voice shot through the tension like a bolt of lightning. "I didn't leave him behind," she protested, desperation evident in her tone. "He left me. I think he’s going back to Lonesome Flats. You know, where we thought you were?"

Willow scoffed, her frustration boiling over. "You mean where you abandoned me after orchestrating that jailbreak?" The glare she directed at Poppy was laced with pain. "Delta only intended to keep you in there for a couple of hours! You couldn't wait that long? Queen Barb came and picked us up the next day!"

Poppy flinched, the weight of Willow's words crashing over her like a tidal wave. She had always known Willow’s honesty could cut deep, but today, it felt sharper than ever.

"I’m so sorry, Willow," Poppy cried out, tears glistening in her eyes. "I should never have left you behind. Maybe if I hadn’t, none of this would have happened."

Defeat settled over Willow like a heavy cloak. "What does it matter now?" she replied, her voice trembling as tears streamed down her face. "With you here, Queen Barb has all the strings. Pretty soon, we'll all be Rock Trolls." Panic surged within her as she noticed the vibrancy of her colors fading before her eyes, a visible manifestation of her despair.

Queen Barb’s hand landed gently on Willow’s shoulder, concern knitting her brow. "You good?" she asked, her tone softer now. When Willow offered a faint nod, the Rock queen patted her shoulder reassuringly. "Why don’t you go check on the other prisoners? The concert starts in a couple of hours, and I want you on bass tonight," she instructed, her voice regaining its authoritative edge. With bass in tow, Willow left the room, each step heavier than the last.

Once Willow was gone, Queen Barb turned to Poppy, her demeanor shifting into one of cold observation. "I’ve wondered why Willow hasn’t been visiting the Pop Trolls in prison. But if a brief encounter with you could do that to her, I think I understand now," she said, her voice dripping with disdain as she began to tune her guitar, each pluck of the strings sounding more ominous.

Poppy clenched her fists in frustration, feeling the burn of indignation rise within her. "She didn’t go grey because of me!" she snapped, her eyes narrowing. "She went like that because you’re erasing all music! She loves our music; she loves Country. I don'tknow how she feels about the others, but if I had to guess, she loves them too. I may not have been a good friend, but I know she doesn’t want all music to die!"

"You don’t know what you’re talking about," Queen Barb shot back, her gaze icy as she met Poppy's fierce eyes. She lifted her head slightly, her confidence unwavering. "Once I make all music Rock, everything will be better. Everyone will be united, and Willow can stop carrying the weight of guilt for things she can’t control. You’ll see soon enough." Her conviction radiated in the air, as if she truly believed her twisted vision would usher in a new era of harmony. It had to.

Willow waved a weary hand at the guard as she descended the dimly lit staircase leading to the prison cells. By now, the guards had grown accustomed to her nightly visits; they simply handed her the keys without question. As she approached the latest group of captives, the Funk Trolls, a bittersweet smile crossed her lips. "Hey, Cooper. Hello to the rest of Cooper's family." It had come as a shock to her just yesterday when she discovered Cooper belonged to the Funk Tribe—a revelation that filled her with both curiosity and a sense of responsibility. She felt grateful for the opportunity to immerse herself in their unique music and vibrant culture.

However, the Funk Trolls eyed her with a mix of wariness and caution. After all, she bore a striking resemblance to the Hard Rock Trolls who had unjustly imprisoned them. Despite the tension, a few moments of conversation with Cooper soon revealed to them that she was just as trapped as they were. The only difference was that she was a single Troll—rendered harmless once her weapons had been confiscated.

"Hey, Willow!" Cooper called out, his expression morphing into concern as he took in her pallid complexion. "Are you alright?" She looked alarmingly similar to her brother, who had been gray up until the previous year, an indication that something terrible must have happened.

From the shadows of his cell, King Trollex stepped forward, an edge of worry in his voice. "You don't look so good, Sweet Beat."

“Oh, sweetie,” Delta chimed in, concern etched on her face as she took in Willow's ashen features. "What’s happened?"

With a heavy heart, Willow leaned against the cold bars of one of the cells. “Poppy's been captured,” she finally admitted, her voice quavering slightly as she struggled against the gnawing sense of despair. The cell she leaned against felt like an unyielding barrier, separating her from hope. “Queen Barb has all the strings now.” A hollow laugh escaped her lips as tears began to trickle down her cheeks. “I thought Poppy and Branch would safeguard the last string. They just had to hold on a little longer, and perhaps I could have gotten the other strings away.”

Frantically, she wiped at her tear-streaked face. “And now Poppy’s in chains while Branch heads to Lonesome Flats, believing I’m still there. By the time he realizes the truth, everything will be turned to Hard Rock.” A warm hand rested gently on her shoulder, offering some comfort. “Poppy thinks I’ve betrayed her, and honestly, I might as well have.” With a frustrated gesture, she pointed at her new outfit. “I’m ‘practically a Hard Rock Troll,’” she grumbled, echoing Val’s earlier words with irritation. “I should have done more.”

“What more could you have done?” Delta asked gently, stepping closer to Willow. Confusion flickered in Willow’s eyes as she pondered the question. “What haven’t you done that you feel you could have?”

“You’re just one Troll,” King Trollex interjected, trying to reassure her. “The fact that you’ve put yourself on the line to ensure our comfort means more than you know.”

Cooper and his twin brother Darnell nodded in agreement. “This has been the comfiest imprisonment I've ever had,” Cooper said with a grin, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “And believe me, I’ve been in some pretty comfy prisons.”

Willow managed a small smile at that. “I don’t think the fungeon counts, Coop,” she replied, though a sigh of defeat escaped her lips soon after. “You make a valid point, though.” She turned to Delta, her eyes pleading. “Can I have a hug?”

“Of course, you look like you could really use one,” Delta replied with a warm smile. Willow unlocked the cell door and stepped inside, seeking refuge in Delta’s embrace.

As Delta held her, an unsettling silence enveloped the space until it was broken by Willow's muffled sobs. “I miss Branch,” she wailed, her voice heavy with anguish. “I despise that he and Poppy left me behind. I hate that everyone’s music is fading away, and I feel utterly powerless! It isn’t fair—I’ve only just begun to learn about all these incredible people and their music, and now it’s all slipping away.”

Delta tightened her grip around Willow, understanding that the weight of the past few days had finally caught up to her. “It’s okay, hun. Just let it all out. You’re feeling everything right now, and that’s alright. It will all work out in the end.”

“No, it won’t,” Willow replied miserably, holding on even tighter to Delta. “I’m going to lose my brother, my friends, and my music.” Delta could only hum softly in response, channeling her comfort to the distraught Pop Troll. She met the concerned gazes of the other Tribe leaders, who were witnessing this rare moment of vulnerability.

“This is serious,” Cooper said, worry creeping into his voice. He glanced at Darnell, who looked puzzled. “Willow doesn’t cry. At least, not in public.”

“So this isn’t typical behavior for her?” Darnell asked, gesturing towards the weeping Troll in Delta’s arms. Cooper shook his head, a frown deepening on his brow.

“The poor thing,” Queen Essence murmured, stepping closer to the group. “Is there anything we can do to help?”

“I’ve never seen her gray before,” Cooper admitted, concern evident in his tone. “Her brother lived like that for over twenty years. He might be the best person to help her through this.”

Delta looked down at Willow, then back at the other leaders. An idea sparked in her mind. In that moment, she opened her mouth, hoping that the one thing she could think of to help Willow might bring her some comfort: singing.

(Delta Dawn)

Deep in the meadow, under the willow

A bed of grass, a soft green pillow

Tollex let out a deep sigh of relief as the echoes of Willow's sobs finally faded into silence. The sound of her distress tugged at his heartstrings, making him feel a weight settle in his chest. As the warmth of the moment washed over him, he noticed Delta's soothing voice weaving through the air, a gentle melody that sparkled like sunlight filtering through leaves. Inspired by her calmness, he stepped forward, ready to join in her song, hoping to add a layer of comfort and harmony that would wrap around Willow like a soft blanket.

(Delta and Trollex)

Lay down your head and close your eyes

And when they open, the sun will rise

Here it's safe, here it's warm

Here the daisies guard you from every harm

Cooper looked at his twin brother and the two nodded in unison.

(Delta, Trollex, Cooper and Darnell)

Here your dreams are sweet and tomorrow brings them true

Here is the place where I love you

As the last notes of their song drifted into the evening air, the group noticed that Willow had finally calmed down. She had rolled into a deep sleep, her small frame contorted into an awkward position that made King Trollex grimace. "That doesn't look comfortable at all," he remarked, squinting as he observed her uneasy posture.

Delta gently and carefully adjusted Willow's position so that she lay on her back, her chest rising and falling with each soft breath. "Should she really be sleeping like this?" Trollex asked, a trace of concern in his voice.

Delta let out a heavy sigh, her brow furrowing as she considered the long day they'd faced. "She’s had a hard enough day already," she replied, her tone thoughtful but heavy with the weight of their circumstances. "And honestly, it’s not going to get any easier from here." She glanced at the darkening sky, sensing the ominous changes that were looming ahead. "The guards will probably start moving us in about an hour, so we should let her sleep until then."

The rest of the group nodded in agreement, sharing a mutual understanding of the importance of rest for their friend. They settled into a quiet vigil, knowing the night was still young, and that Willow would need her strength for the challenges that lay ahead.

Meanwhile, high above in a brightly colored balloon, Branch floated silently with the band of bounty hunters sent to capture him and Poppy. It was an uneasy alliance with the K-Pop gang and the Reggaeton trio, but they were united in their shared mission to thwart the plans of Queen Barb. As Branch gazed in the direction of Lonesome Flats, a pang of sadness gripped his heart. "Sorry, sis. You're going to have to wait a little longer," he murmured softly, his thoughts heavy with regret. He looked ahead, his resolve hardening as he focused on the formidable landscape that was Volcano Rock City. "I have to stop Queen Barb first."

Chapter Text

Delta Dawn gently stirred Willow from her hour-long slumber, just as she had promised. "I imagine people will start searching for you soon," she said, a reassuring tone in her voice. The young Pop Troll nodded, slipping off Delta's back with a sense of reluctance. She cast her gaze downward, a flush of embarrassment coloring her cheeks. "Thank you for listening," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "And for letting me cry on you. I’m sorry you had to handle all of that."

"Never apologize for needing comfort, Willow," Delta replied, placing a comforting hand on the girl’s arm, the warmth of her touch melting away some of the unease. "We’re confronting a tough situation, and everyone has their limits. It’s a relief to know you felt safe enough to share those feelings with your friends rather than bottling them up." She nudged Willow gently toward the cell door, a silent encouragement for the young Troll to take the next step. "But now it’s time for you to go."

Willow nodded slowly, her heart heavy as she walked out of the dim prison cell. "I'll see you guys up there soon, I guess," she said, forcing a smile that felt weak and awkward as she handed the heavy cell keys back to the waiting guard. A sigh escaped her lips, tinged with regret. "I’m sorry. I wish I could have done more." With those words hanging in the air, she exited swiftly, leaving no room for further protests.

As she made her way listlessly to the stage, Willow could sense the weight of eyes upon her. She was acutely aware that many of the Hard Rock Trolls were still wary, their gazes sharp and disapproving, as if they expected her to falter. Perhaps they were right; given her current state of mind, the potential for mistakes loomed larger than life.

Upon reaching the backstage area, something caught her attention— someone was singing, and it sounded like ... Mr. Dinkles?

(Smidge and Mr. Dinkles)

Rainbows, unicorns

Everything nice , yeah

Sugarplums, fairy dust

Everything nice , yeah

Brush your teeth

Willow walked over to the group, her brow furrowed in confusion. What on earth was the Snack Pack up to? They were wearing the most outlandish costumes imaginable—brightly colored fabrics with exaggerated features that made them look more like clowns than anything else. She shook her head in disbelief when she saw the Rock Trolls, whom they were trying to sneak past, actually bought into the ruse, handing out instruments as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Guess they were convincing enough, or perhaps the Rock Trolls were dumber than she had initially thought. It was probably the latter.

"Hey, Pop Troll!" one of the Rock Trolls called out, suddenly noticing Willow standing there. He squinted at her, tilting his head slightly as he took in her gray complexion. "Where have you been? New look?"

Willow scoffed, ignoring the horrified expressions painted across her friends’ faces. “Something like that,” she replied curtly, no intention of explaining her transformation. Instead, she motioned toward the Snack Pack. “These guys going to the stage?” The Troll nodded, oblivious to the tension in the air. “Cool. I’ll get them there. I need to get myself set up anyway.” With that, Willow turned away, her pace quickening as she headed toward the stage. She gestured for the Snack Pack to follow, her mind racing with the chaos of the moments that had led her to this point.

Once they were far enough from prying eyes, she pivoted, her expression hardening as she glared at her friends. “What are you doing here?”

“We’re here to help Poppy,” Guy Diamond replied, his tone defensive yet earnest. “What are you doing here?”

“And why are you gray?” Biggie chimed in, concern etching his features. “You weren’t gray in Lonesome Flats. Did something happen?”

Willow frowned, her heart heavy with the recent events. “I was left behind by my brother and friends,” she said, her voice laced with frustration. She resumed her brisk walk. “And then everyone was captured—Poppy’s been taken, and now everything is going to be Rock.”

Biggie sighed heavily, the weight of regret heavy in his voice. “We did leave you behind, didn’t we? It was so chaotic. I don’t think we even had a chance to realize we were leaving you. Hickory just pulled the door out of the wall, and then we were gone. I’m so sorry we didn’t find a way to get you first.”

Willow nodded, understanding the tumultuous nature of their escape, but still feeling a pang of betrayal. “I understand,” she said slowly, her voice softer but still firm. Forgiveness wasn’t a word she was ready to embrace just yet, but some part of her was also grateful he recognized their mistake. She sighed deeply and stopped in her tracks to face them. “Look, I don’t know what your plan is, but you need to keep a low profile. If these Trolls think you’re one of them, you’ll be safe.”

“Safe from what, exactly?” Satin asked, her voice trembling slightly with unease.

“I’m not sure,” Willow admitted, biting her lip as she began to hook up her bass, her fingers deftly moving over the strings. “All I know is that Queen Barb is going to unleash something she calls the 'ultimate power chord,' and if it goes through, the world will be engulfed in Hard Rock. She didn’t give me all the details.” With a resigned shrug, she continued, “Just play along, and you’ll be safe.” The gravity of her words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the peril they all faced.

----

"So, Popcorn," Queen Barb said, leaning against the wall above the stage. "Is being my best friend everything you could have ever dreamed of?"

"I am not your best friend," Poppy said, glaring at the other queen.

"You don't have to be embarrassed," Queen Barb grinned. "I get it. Being queen can be kind of lonely." She listened to her subjects chanting her name. "There's all this pressure to be a great queen.  And instead of real friends, you're  just  surrounded by people who  just  tell you what you want to hear."  She crossed her arms, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "That's why I like Willow so much, you know?" Her grin widened, eyes sparkling with admiration. "She's so fiery and passionate about her beliefs." As she glanced at Poppy, a light laugh escaped her lips, filled with a mix of disbelief and fondness. "Can you believe she yelled at me about the prisoners? She wouldn't back down until I finally caved and let her take charge. Honestly, she's something else." Poppy studied the other queen with curiosity, sensing a deeper connection in the way she spoke. Did the Queen of Rock have a secret crush on Willow?

Queen Barb nodded to herself and pointed at Poppy. "You know, other than your terrible taste in music and clothing and general lifestyle, you and me are the same, Popsqueak."

Poppy scoffed. "No, we're not."

"We're both queens who just want to unite the world," Queen Barb said, walking away.

"You don't want to unite the world," Poppy argued. "You want to destroy it!"

"Nuh-uh.  No way,  " Queen Barb grinned as she grabbed her guitar with the strings attached.  "No. I don't know who told you that." She pulled out the Pop string to add it to the guitar. "Music has done nothing but divide us. Now that I have the final string, I can make us all one nation of  Trolls,  under Rock."

"But Willow adores all kinds of music," Poppy insisted, her voice rising as she glared at Queen Barb, whose smile seemed too smug for the moment. "If you turn everything into just rock, she’s going to be absolutely miserable."

Queen Barb shook her head, her expression untouched. "She'll find happiness in a world dominated by rock," she countered firmly. "You may not grasp it now, but you will eventually. When everyone shares the same rhythm, she’ll never have to fear the pain of being left behind again."

"What are you going to do?" Poppy asked, worried.

"I'm going to play the ultimate power chord, and then," Queen Barb chuckled as the platform she was on started to lower. "You'll see!"

---

On the vibrant stage, illuminated by colorful lights, Willow meticulously finished tuning her bass, the deep notes resonating in the air, creating an electric anticipation. As she glanced up, her heart raced when the first notes of a guitar pierced through the atmosphere. She watched in awe as Queen Barb was gracefully lowered onto the stage in a dazzling new costume, its sequins catching the light and sparkling like a constellation.

With a sense of purpose, Willow joined in, plucking her strings and adding a rich layer to the music as Barb glided off the platform and confidently stepped onto the stage. The audience erupted in excitement, and Queen Barb’s radiant grin spread across her face. She began to sing with powerful conviction, her voice soaring above the cheering crowd, who chanted her name in a rhythmic, fervent wave of adoration. The atmosphere buzzed with energy, pulling everyone into the enchanting world of the concert.

(Queen Barb)

So this ain't the end , I saw you again today

I had to turn my heart away

Smile like the sun, kisses for everyone

And tales, it never fails

You're lying so low in the weeds

I bet you're gonna  ambush me

You'd have me down, down, down, down on my knees

Now  won't you,

Queen Barb paused and glared at the Snack Pack  who  were  standing  there  not doing anything.  Willow glared at them. They had to do something!

(Biggie)

Barracuda!

Biggie hoisted his electric guitar high above his head, the vibrant colors of the instrument glinting under the stage lights, before bringing it down with a thunderous crash onto the ground. The echoing sound reverberated through the crowd, making hearts race and leaving them momentarily stunned. Amidst the chaos, Willow let out a sigh of relief as Queen Barb, with an air of cool composure, acknowledged the moment and seamlessly continued the concert, her powerful voice cutting through the tension and bringing the crowd back into the magic of the night.

Queen Barb chuckled, threw the mic off the stage, and had the power guitar float down for her to start playing it. Queen Barb waved to the Tribe leaders. "Give it up to your former leaders." The stage lights illuminated the leaders as she named the Tribes. "Funk, Country, Techno, Classical, and worst of all, Pop." She pointed to the tooth Poppy was trapped in. "Who wants to see what the ultimate power chord can do?" She asked the crowd. They cheered loudly and Queen Barb grinned, aiming her guitar towards Poppy.

Willow's eyes widened in disbelief as the truth hit her like a lightning bolt. Of course, it was another weapon! Of course, it would be aimed at the Trolls. How else was she supposed to turn them into Rock Trolls? Just as she prepared to step in and intervene, a giant book came hurtling through the air, striking Barb squarely in the face.

Barb snarled, her fierce gaze shooting upwards as she registered what had just happened. Following her line of sight, Willow gasped in surprise. There, hovering majestically above them, was Sheila B., their beloved hot-air balloon. "Ha!" Branch shouted triumphantly from the side of the balloon, flanked by a group of bounty hunters. "I guess a giant comprehensive manual does come in handy."

A wave of relief washed over Willow as she spotted her brother. He looked vibrant and colorful, a beacon of hope amidst the chaos. Her heart swelled with joy. "Well, isn't that puke," Queen Barb sneered, her voice dripping with mockery. "Poppy's little boyfriend decided to crash the concert. How cute." With a wicked smirk, she aimed her guitar menacingly at Poppy. "Too late, Branch."

"No!" Willow shouted, her voice slicing through the tension as she instinctively used her hair to knock Queen Barb aside, just in time to send the blast off-course. The power chord that was meant for Poppy hit a tooth beside her cage instead, sending a shudder through the air. Willow turned, her heart racing with fear, only to see Branch leap in front of the intended target. "Branch!" she cried out, rushing to him and enveloping him in a tight hug. "Are you okay?"

Branch returned her embrace, relief shining in his eyes, but a furrow formed on his brow as he noticed her colors had faded. Something was clearly wrong. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied softly, though his concern for her outweighed his own.

Willow sighed with relief but then pulled away, a scowl forming on her face as she hit his shoulder, harder than intended. "What were you thinking?!" she exploded, frustration bubbling over. "Do you realize what could have happened?!"

"Me?" Branch countered, rubbing his sore arm, incredulous. "What about you? You just pushed the Queen of Rock away! You could have gotten hurt!"

"You self-sacrificing idiot!" Willow fired back, shoving him lightly. Emotion flooded her voice as she continued, "I've been worried sick about you! And now, the first time I see you in days, you choose to put yourself in danger to save Poppy?! I understand you care about her, but you could have died! You would have left me alone, again!"

"Should we say something?" Wani from the K-Pop gang observed the sibling argument from above, raising an eyebrow at the intense exchange unfolding below them.

"Nah," Tresillo, the Reggaetone Troll, replied with a teasing grin, shaking his head. "This is getting good."

Branch let out a heavy sigh and pulled Willow in for another embrace, his grip firm and reassuring. "Let me go!" she growled, still trying to push him away, a mixture of anger and affection battling within her. "I'm still mad at you!"

"I know," Branch admitted, his voice softening as he tightened his hold on her. "I should have never left you alone in the first place, and I'm so sorry I worried you. But I promise, I am never going to abandon you," he swore, a shadow of past betrayals flaring in his memory. "You're stuck with me."

Willow's voice trembled as she asked, "You promise?" Her anger wavered as she felt the warmth of his sincerity.

"I promise," Branch affirmed, pulling away slightly so he could meet her gaze. Holding up his fist, he spoke with renewed determination, "Still you and me?"

A grin broke through her frown as she touched her fist to his. "Still me and you," she echoed, a surge of hope swelling between them. In that moment, amidst the chaos, a bond stronger than ever was forged anew.

She fixed a piercing glare at Queen Barb as the villainess began to slowly clap, the sound echoing ominously in the tense atmosphere. "Touching performance," Queen Barb remarked, her voice dripping with mock sincerity as she approached the two siblings with a menacing swagger. Willow instinctively tightened her grip on her brother's hand, stepping protectively in front of him like a shield against the queen's malevolence.

"Really, that was something special," Barb continued, her eyes glinting with delight as she gestured dismissively toward two stagehands lurking in the shadows. They exchanged glances before advancing to seize Willow and Branch, their grip firm and unyielding.

Queen Barb’s disappointment was palpable as she regarded Willow, her expression a mix of frustration and relish. "I was hoping I wouldn't have to use this on you," she said, her voice almost sultry. "We could have had a lot of fun." She shrugged, the movement casual yet calculated, as if dismissing any notion of compassion.

"Too bad it interrupted my power chord," she added, a dark excitement coursing through her. "I still need to find out if it works." With a dramatic flourish, she aimed her menacing guitar at Willow and her brother, a wicked smile spreading across her face. "Don't worry," she taunted, her voice dripping with false reassurance. "This won't hurt a bit."

Branch gently squeezed his sister's hand, a gesture of reassurance amid the chaos surrounding them. "By the way," he said, directing his gaze at her with a mix of curiosity and concern. "If we somehow make it out of this mess, I'm definitely going to need an explanation for all those piercings you have."

Willow let out a snort of laughter, the sound a brief spark of levity in their dire situation. "Think I could talk you into getting one?" she teased, her eyes shining with mischief.

"Not a chance," Branch replied, rolling his eyes dramatically, a playful defiance masking the fear beneath. Just as Queen Barb finished her dramatic power chord, an ominous vibration filled the air, and in an instant, stone erupted around them, encasing the two siblings in a hard, unyielding prison of rock.

Queen Barb cautiously made her way over to the two large rocks, a mischievous grin spreading across her face when they suddenly broke apart, revealing a vibrant scene beneath. As the dust settled, Branch emerged, his distinctive style immediately catching her attention. He sported a chest tattoo that showcased intricate designs, while his hair was fashioned into a wild mullet that bounced with every movement. Adorned with spiked bracelets that gleamed in the light and sporting an array of piercings—two earrings in one ear and a single piercing in the other—he had a fierce look that was amplified by his bright red eyes. "Rock on!" he shouted exuberantly, throwing up rock horns with enthusiasm that made the air crackle with energy.

"Oh, sick!" Queen Barb replied, her grin widening in excitement. "It totally works!" She admired Branch's rebellious spirit, feeling the infectious energy that surrounded them.

Branch stepped forward, his voice filled with rallying charisma. "Who's ready to get rippin' tattoos everywhere but our faces in case we still need office jobs?" His enthusiasm was palpable, inviting everyone into the excitement of their adventure.

Barb turned her attention to Willow, curious to see what changes had come over her friend. Willow's outfit remained a consistent reflection of her dynamic personality, but now her hair was pitch black, a stark contrast to its former color. It was frizzier and more alive than she had ever let it get, radiating a sense of wild freedom. She struck a chord on her bass guitar, the deep sound resonating in the air, and grinned darkly. "Tattoos later, big brother. It's time to rock," she declared, moving away from Branch and gravitating toward Queen Barb, exuding an aura of confidence and rebellion.

King Trollex and the others exchanged worried glances, their concern evident. "Oh, Sweet Beat," the Techno King muttered under his breath, disbelief etched across his face. "What did that thing do to you?" It was a desperate plea as he tried to understand the transformation unfolding before him.

"You're turning everyone into rock zombies?" Poppy interjected, an expression of disbelief on her face as she stepped closer, searching for an explanation.

"Yep," Queen Barb answered, her fingers skillfully strumming her guitar as two stagehands approached her. They meticulously strapped a cord to the back of her flashy costume, preparing her for the vibrant show ahead. "I can't wait to party with you, Poppy." The cord lifted Queen Barb into the air, her guitar riffing out an electrifying tune that filled the air with irresistible energy, promising a wild adventure filled with music and rebellion.

Queen Barb surveyed the sprawling crowd before her, an unmistakable grin spreading across her face. Yet, her eyes soon found Willow, and her smile faltered as she noticed the almost vacant expression in the Troll's gaze. It felt profoundly unsettling to see Willow, usually so vibrant and full of life, appear so... lifeless. A wave of doubt washed over her. Perhaps this whole scheme was misguided. But shaking her head to dispel the uncertainty, Queen Barb steeled herself. No, the plan would work; there was no turning back now. With a determined effort, she forced a triumphant grin as the stage's cord launched her above the sea of Trolls, positioning her in front of the other leaders.

With a electrifying flick of her wrist, she unleashed the ultimate power chord, a sound so potent that it transformed her once-opponents into Hard Rock versions of themselves, radiating raw energy and defiance.

As Queen Barb landed back on the stage, the haunting sound of a cell door creaking open caught her attention. Turning, she was met with the sight of Poppy bursting free from her confinement. "Not so fast, Popsqueak," Barb taunted, reveling in the sight of the zombified Branch, who was now her controlled minion. "Hey, boy toy, it's mullet time!"

Branch shot Poppy a fierce glare, then, with a swift motion, used his hair to ensnare her, immobilizing her in place. Seeing an opportunity, Queen Barb launched into a furious guitar riff and blasted Poppy with her electrifying music.

In an instant, Poppy was transformed. Emerging from the rock with a wild, chaotic ponytail that seemed to defy gravity, she sported a spiked headband that glimmered ominously under the stage lights. Her bangs, now dyed a striking black, framed her face, accentuating the fierce red of her eyes—the signature mark of a rock zombie. Clad in a rebellious denim skirt, a form-fitting leather vest, and daring fishnet stockings, she completed her look with a spiked anklet that jingled with her every move.

"Who wants to party?!" she shouted, throwing her arms up and flashing the rock horns in the air. Yet, her voice held an edge of menace. "Without smiling."

From the sidelines, Biggie and the rest of the Snack Pack watched in horror as their friends succumbed to the dark allure of rock. The Rock Trolls had triumphed, and the glimmer of hope that once filled the air began to fade, replaced by the harsh reality of their defeat.

Chapter Text

Queen Barb grinned at the former Pop Queen, her eyes gleaming with mischief as she tossed a glittering guitar towards Poppy. "Finish them off," she commanded with an air of authority. Poppy caught the guitar effortlessly with one hand, her confidence radiating from her as she turned to face the two Funk Troll princes standing nearby.

With a determined stride, Poppy approached the princes, her fingers dancing along the strings of the guitar as she played a catchy guitar riff. As the last note soared through the air, she backed up to the front of the stage, her vibrant hair cascading to the floor in a colorful waterfall. Reaching the edge of the stage, she planted her feet firmly, lifted the guitar, and aimed it defiantly at the twins and her father. A cheeky wink directed at Queen Barb followed, and the fiery red glow of a rock zombie in her eyes flickered out, replaced by her natural, bright gaze.

"What are you doing?" Queen Barb asked, her voice tinged with confusion. "You're supposed to be a rock zombie!"

Poppy beamed, her grin widening as she pulled out a couple of gumdrops from her ears. "Gumdrops," she explained cheerfully, popping one into her mouth. "Soundproof and delicious." She savored the sugary treat, the vibrant colors reflecting the joy she felt within.

"Give me that!" Queen Barb barked, lunging toward Poppy in an attempt to seize the guitar.

"I won't let you do this to anyone else!" Poppy firmly declared, pulling the guitar back and positioning herself defensively. "A world where everyone looks and sounds the same? That's not harmony—it's a prison."

“Hey, Barb?” Riff, the drummer, rose slightly from his seat, his voice cutting through the tension. “Maybe Queen Poppy has a point here. If we all look the same, act the same, dress the same, how do we know we’re cool—or anything, really?”

As Poppy and Queen Barb exchanged glances, they noticed the other Trolls nodding in agreement with Riff’s thought-provoking statement. “A good queen listens,” Poppy said, her voice rising in passion. She turned her gaze towards her friends gathered on stage, a coalition of bright personalities united. “Real harmony takes lots of voices.” With that, she dodged another reckless grab from Queen Barb and sprinted to the front of the stage, gathering momentum.

“Different voices!” she shouted, and with a resounding crash, she slammed the guitar against the stage, splintering it apart. The strings shattered dramatically, sending vibrant waves of color rippling across the audience before they swiftly receded, dragging the Trolls’ colors along with them.

Looking away from the remnants of the shattered guitar, Poppy’s heart raced as she spotted Branch, rising to his feet in the midst of the chaos. “Branch!” she exclaimed, a surge of relief flooding her.

Branch turned, confusion etched on his face. “Poppy? What—” His attention quickly shifted when he heard a faint groan. He whipped around to see his sister Willow slowly propping herself up, her hand gingerly cradling her head. “Willow!” He dashed past Poppy and knelt by her side, concern etched all over his features. “You’re okay!”

Willow nodded, but a flicker of disappointment crossed her face as she looked at Branch. “You’re gray again,” she noted, her voice tinged with worry.

“Yeah,” Branch replied, a hint of reluctance in his tone. “But I’m okay this time.” He gestured to the crowd, which now appeared drained of color. “Everybody’s gray now. This isn’t about health; it’s bigger.”

“It’s a music thing,” Willow affirmed, her eyes narrowing as she observed the dissolving strings in Queen Barb's grip.

“What have you done?” Queen Barb demanded, rising to her feet with indignation. “You’ve destroyed music!” Her glare turned piercing as she focused on Poppy. “Give it up, everyone. Thanks to the Queen of Pop, we’ve all lost our music. History repeats itself; pop has ruined everything.”

A heavy silence fell over the crowd until a soft laugh broke through the tension. Both Poppy and Queen Barb turned to see Willow, now fully standing with Branch’s supportive help, laughing heartily. Once on her feet, she directed a fierce glare at both queens. “Don’t act like this is all her fault," she scolded sharply. She turned to Poppy, pointing with determination, "She may have destroyed the strings, but none of this would have happened if you hadn’t decided to have this ridiculous tour in the first place.” Willow then shifted her accusatory gaze to Queen Barb. “This time, Pop and Rock both screwed up.” With a sigh, she crossed her arms, a weight of disappointment settling on her shoulders. “It didn’t have to be like this. We could have accomplished amazing things and forged great friendships with the other Tribes.”

Branch moved closer to his sister, wrapping her in a comforting hug. "It's okay, sis. We’ll get through this together." He embraced her tightly, and she returned the hug, a momentary solace amidst the turmoil.

The crowd collectively absorbed the gravity of their new reality—a world devoid of music. Willow and Branch clung tightly to one another until an unexpected beat pulsed through the air, resonating across the stage and rippling outward into the audience. They glanced up to see Cooper, holding a mic close to his chest, a radiant pink heart glowing within the pervasive grayness. Excitement burst forth as his brother Darnell joined in, rhythmically beatboxing along with the cadence of Cooper’s heartbeat.

Queen Essence beamed with pride as she witnessed her sons creating music amidst the chaos. “Those are my boys,” she remarked, her heart swelling. The group watched entranced until they heard applause erupting. Willow’s gaze shifted to see Delta Dawn starting to clap to the beat, her own yellow heart shining brightly against the dullness around her. Encouraged by Delta, a wave of yellow hearts flickered to life in the crowd as everyone joined in, clapping together, and suddenly the air was infused with hope and energy.

“Queen Barb can’t take away something that's inside us,” Queen Essence declared when the clapping finally ceased. “Because that’s where music truly comes from.”

“It started with the strings,” King Quincy echoed from beside his wife, his voice firm and steady. “But now it comes from within us.” The Trolls began to vocalize, their voices weaving together in a powerful harmony.

“Yeah,” King Trollex grinned wide, his enthusiasm infectious. “It comes from our experiences.”

“Our lives,” Delta Dawn added, her voice rising in joyful recognition.

“Our culture,” Queen Essence concluded, her voice soaring above the others.

“Beautiful!” Trollzart laughed, his joy palpable. Willow and Branch exchanged glances, eyes alight with appreciation, recognizing the beauty that was blossoming from their collective spirit despite the odds.

“Listen to that,” Poppy said, her heart swelling with appreciation. “Barb can’t take that away.”

“Nobody can,” Willow nodded, surrendering to the powerful harmonies resonating from the Trolls around them. When the vocalizing paused and a hush fell over the crowd, Willow felt a gentle nudge from Poppy. She turned to see Poppy’s encouraging gaze, prompting her to step forward. A smile crept onto her face as she realized the spark of inspiration igniting within her, ready to embrace the moment and the transformative power it held.

(Willow)

Let me hear you sing

Sing it together

Louder than ever

Forget everything

(Willow and Branch)

Just sing

Like it's what we've been missing

And they're gonna listen, listen

Forget everything

Just sing

The two siblings beamed with joy as their vibrant colors gradually returned, filling them with a sense of warmth and renewed energy. It felt wonderful to be bright and lively again, like the sun breaking through a cloudy sky. Queen Barb furrowed her brow in confusion at the unexpected sound of a melody wafting through the air, the gentle notes of a keyboard cascading like a sparkling waterfall. "Dad?" she asked, her voice tinged with surprise and curiosity.

"It's all right, Barbara," King Thrash replied, a gentle smile spreading across his face, his eyes twinkling with kindness. "Just let everyone be what they want to be. Including you." As he played, his colors burst forth in a glorious array, illuminating the room.

Poppy, unable to contain her excitement, flashed a radiant grin and began to sing, her voice rising and blending harmoniously with the newfound symphony around them, filling the space with an infectious joy.

(Poppy)

You think you've gotta hide it

Don't keep it on the shelf

Let your waist start moving, watch the way I do it, do it

See me do it like nobody else

Poppy watched as the Funk Trolls started singing along.

(Queen Essence)  (Branch and Prince Darnell)

If we sing it all together  (If we sing it all as one)

It's not a thing you sell  (Once again, everyone)

Everybody's lookin'  (See you lookin' now )  , watch the way we do it, do it  (Hol' up, watchin' how I do it)

'Cause we do it like nobody else

Willow erupted into laughter, her eyes sparkling with delight as she watched King Trollex leap into the festivities. With a playful grin, he seized her hand, his grip warm and inviting, and pulled her into the vibrant swirl of music and movement. Together, they danced under the twinkling lights, their steps in sync as joy filled the air around them.

(Everyone)

Let me hear you sing, don't you stop it, don't you fight it

Let me hear you sing, if you got it, can't deny it

Let me hear you, it's waiting for you

Already, you know that you do it like nobody else

A vibrant wave of color cascaded over the crowd, as if an artist's brush had swept across a canvas. The hues danced and twirled, bringing a radiant energy that reignited the brilliance of each individual's colors. Faces lit up in shades of joy and excitement, while the once-muted crowd transformed into a kaleidoscope of vivid shades, each person basking in the warmth of their restored essence.

(Everyone)

Just sing, sing it together

Louder than ever, ever, forget everything

Just sing like it's what we've been missing

And they're gonna listen, listen, forget everything (Let me hear you)

(Delta Dawn)  (Willow and Branch)

Hey, I've been out here where you standin'  (I've been standin' on the ground)

And the walls are cavin' in  (All the walls are fallin')

When my lips start movin' with the soul I put into it

And you never heard it done like this

(Everyone)  (K-Pop gang and Reggaeton Trolls)

Let me hear you sing,  리듬 타봐 멈추지마

노래불러줘, si lo tienes, no lo niegues

Te quiero oír cantar

It's waiting for you

Already, you know that you do it like nobody else

Just sing, sing it together

Louder than ever, ever, forget everything

Just sing like it's what we've been missing

And they're gonna listen, listen, forget everything

Willow beamed with warmth and encouragement at Queen Barb, her eyes sparkling with support as the other rulers gracefully stepped forward to take their places at the forefront of the stage. The atmosphere buzzed with anticipation as Trollzart quietly took a position in the shadows, his baton poised and ready as the orchestra behind him began to swell with an enchanting melody, filling the air with a rich tapestry of sound.

(Tiny Diamond)

I said a-one,  two  three, and four

Let's go  everybody   get  on the floor

(Everybody)

Let me hear you

(Queen Essence)

Oh, let me hear you sing, yeah

(Everybody)

Let me hear you sing

(Prince Darnell)

I want you to sing from your soul

I want you to reach with your elbow

Willow playfully nudged Queen Barb with her elbow, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she gestured toward the sleek bass guitar slung over her shoulder. "Wanna rock with me?" she asked, her voice filled with enthusiasm as she motioned for the queen's guitar.

Queen Barb raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile creeping onto her lips. "Are you sure about that? I kinda thought you'd be sick of rock music by now, with all the noise and chaos."

Willow shrugged, her fingers dancing over the strings as she strummed a few lively notes that filled the air with vibrant energy. "What can I say? It's really growing on me," she replied, her grin widening. "Plus, their queen's not half bad either once you get to know her."

A playful glint sparkled in Queen Barb's eyes as Poppy, standing nearby, tossed her the guitar. With a flick of her wrist, she caught it effortlessly, the instrument feeling familiar and comforting in her hands. As she began to play, the rhythm pulsed through her, and Willow stood proudly beside her, keeping the groove alive on the bass.

As the music swelled, Queen Barb felt an electrifying rush of joy; she could almost feel her hair mohawk responding to the beat. It began to grow larger, vibrant hues bursting into a rainbow of colors that cascaded down her head like a burst of confetti. She looked up, awe in her eyes at the transformation, realizing that in this moment, they were not just playing music—they were creating something magical together.

(Queen Barb)

Just sing

Sing it together

Louder than ever, ever

Forget everything

Just sing

A dazzling spectrum of colors surrounded Poppy, transforming her into a radiant figure adorned with a magnificent rainbow crown that sparkled like jewels. Her outfit, woven from vibrant, swirling hues, cascaded around her, shimmering in the light and wrapping her in a magical embrace of color.

(Everyone)  (Queen Barb)

Like it's what we've been missing

And they're gonna listen, listen  (And Rock)

Forget everything

Just sing

Sing it together

Louder than ever, ever

Forget everything

Just sing

And they're gonna listen, listen

Forget everything

(Poppy)

Just sing

Willow beamed, her excitement contagious. "That was nothing short of glorious!" she exclaimed, nudging the animated Queen Barb as the harmonious singing echoed around them. "Your hair looks absolutely stunning like that," she added, admiring the way the sunlight caught the colorful strands that framed Barb's face.

"Thanks," Queen Barb replied, her grin widening before it flickered into a frown as she turned to face the leaders gathered around her. "I know that this isn’t going to undo everything I’ve caused, but I genuinely apologize for all the destruction I’ve caused to your homes. In my eagerness to unite the different tribes, I lost sight of what makes our world so special in the first place."

King Trollex exchanged glances with the other tribe leaders, who nodded their heads in agreement. "You're absolutely right," he said gently, his gaze steady on Queen Barb. "Your apology doesn’t fix the damage done." Barb looked down at the ground, acknowledging the weight of her actions.

"But it's a start," Queen Essence interjected, her smile warm and encouraging.

Delta Dawn chuckled lightly, her tone playful. "You’re young and still learning. You’re bound to make mistakes, and that’s completely okay. Just try to avoid causing such chaos again! But the fact that you’re owning up to it is commendable."

King Quincy nodded in support. "As long as you’re committed to help fix the mess you’ve made, I don’t see why we can't move forward and forgive you."

Queen Barb’s face brightened as she responded, "I’d be more than happy to do that!"

Just then, Poppy approached the group with a friendly aura. "Well, now that you’re not forcing me into anything, I hope we can start fresh and be friends," she said, her eyes sparkling with hope.

Queen Barb’s excitement bubbled over. "Yes! Did you hear that, Carol? We officially have a girl group now!" She pulled both Poppy and Willow close, reveling in the united camaraderie.

The Rock Troll Queen Barb was talking to paused from eating her can of cheese spray. "A girl group? Nice!" She threw the can of cheese away.

"Yeah!" Queen Barb grinned. "Carol!" She laughed. "She's psyched."

Willow observed the joy radiating from Queen Barb as she playfully interacted with her friends, her heart swelling with pride.

Suddenly, Poppy turned her attention to Branch, who had just approached. "Branch," she said, her voice softening, "I love how different we are—it makes us stronger."

Branch smiled tenderly in response, his eyes filled with affection. "And I love you, Queen Poppy."

Poppy’s smile deepened, a glimmer of happiness in her eyes. "I love you too, Branch."

Willow, unable to suppress her delight any longer, burst out, "Well, it's about time you two admitted that!" She leaned against her brother, a teasing glint in her eye. "You've been mustering up the courage to say that for months!"

"Willow?" Poppy asked, sensing a shift in her friend’s mood. Willow’s expression turned serious as she focused on Poppy. "I owe you a deep apology for leaving you behind. I could list a thousand reasons for our choices that day, but we both know none of that would truly matter. We could've ignored Hickory and stayed by your side. Because we didn’t, you and Branch ended up separated, and you got captured just a day later. Queen Barb was right—you are one of my dearest friends, and I hurt you deeply." She raised a hand, gently silencing Poppy before she could respond. "I don’t expect you to forgive me right away. I understand that this isn’t something you can just overlook. I’m prepared to wait as long as you need for you to be ready."

Willow sighed, her voice heavy with emotion. "I’m struggling with some family issues that stem from being left behind, which is making it tough for me to forgive you right now." She gestured towards her brother, who stood nearby. "I need to focus on building my relationship with Branch before I can even think about forgiving what happened between us."

"Yeah," Branch added, nodding in agreement. "We just declared our feelings for each other, but I know that it’s important for me to be there for Willow right now. Those feelings are wonderful in this moment, but once the celebration ends, the unresolved emotions might resurface, and we need to be prepared for that."

Poppy nodded, understanding glimmering in her eyes. "I see where you’re coming from," she replied, a gentle smile crossing her face. "Like I said, I’m willing to wait for as long as it takes. This relationship is important to me."

With a wave, she turned towards the gathering crowd, her demeanor brightening as she called out jovially, "I’m going to go mingle for a bit. I’ll catch up with you both later!"

Willow's eyes sparkled with excitement as she nodded and enthusiastically grabbed her brother Branch's hand. "Come on! I want to introduce you to my new friends!" Her infectious energy made Branch laugh, though he felt a twinge of apprehension as she pulled him through the bustling crowd of Trolls. They approached several influential figures, and she eagerly reintroduced him to the vibrant Delta Dawn, a leader known for her warmth, and introduced him formally to the regal King Trollex, the lively Techno King, and the cultured Classical Conductor, Trollzart.

"Can you believe it? King Trollex was just telling me he wants to take me to something called a 'rave,'" she gushed, her eyes shining with wonder. "And Delta Dawn is just so sweet!" She smiled shyly, remembering how the leader had treated her kindly, even amidst the chaos of their previous lives. "You know, when we're not blasting Pop music in her face and causing property damage," she joked, her laughter filling the air. "Oh, and Trollzart offered to teach me the violin! He really appreciates the finer things in life."

King Trollex chuckled warmly as Willow enthusiastically recounted the friends she had made while they were imprisoned. "I think you're starting to overwhelm him, Sweet Beat," he teased, noticing how Branch appeared slightly dazed by the flurry of names and stories. The jovial Techno King continued, "And I do remember asking you to drop the 'King' part of that." Willow caught on to his light-hearted jab and, turning to her brother, gave a sheepish smile of apology as the nickname 'Sweet Beat' registered in his mind.

"Sweet Beat?" Branch asked, crossing his arms, a skeptical look on his face. "Why’d you call her that?" His protective instincts were kicking in, as they always did when it came to Willow.

"Because she's so sweet she could be made of sugar," Trollex said with a wide grin, his eyes twinkling. "And she's incredibly passionate. Did you hear? She actually yelled at Queen Barb because we weren't being taken care of! She barely knew us, yet she was willing to fight for our well-being." Trollex reached over and pulled Willow into a warm embrace, conveying gratitude that added to her blush. "We wouldn’t be here without her.”

Willow returned the hug, feeling warmth from both Trollex and the kind words. "I was just doing what any decent Troll would do," she protested, her cheeks still flushed. "I'm just glad you're okay."

Branch frowned at their evident closeness just as King Quincy and Queen Essence approached. "Looks like someone has caught the attention of the Techno King," King Quincy remarked with a chuckle, observing Branch’s admittedly grumpy expression. "Techno Trolls are pretty forward, so I don't think he means her any harm."

"Doesn’t mean I have to like it," Branch grumbled, casting a wary eye toward Trollex, who was unabashedly flirting with his little sister. The mere thought of anyone having romantic intentions toward Willow made him feel uneasy.

"If that bothers you," Prince Darnell chimed in as he sauntered over, mischief dancing in his eyes, "you're going to hate it when Queen Barb starts." He chuckled at the shocked expression that spread across Branch’s face. "I’m pretty sure she threw a few looks your sister's way earlier."

"There's two of them?!" Branch exclaimed, disbelief coloring his voice. He groaned at the idea of Willow dating not one, but two Trolls. "Great, just what I needed! Thanks, man, really appreciate it." He sighed dramatically before reclaiming Willow from Trollex's friendly embrace. "It was great meeting you, King Trollex, but I want to introduce my sister to some others before we leave."

Willow looked at her brother, a mix of confusion and excitement swirling in her eyes. "You’ve met some Trolls too?" she asked, her grin brightening. "That’s amazing! Let's go meet them!" She waved at Trollex as they began to walk away, a warm goodbye lingering in the air. "I’ll see you later, okay?"

As the sibling duo moved on, Trollex couldn’t shake his dreamy expression. "You just had to go for Willow, didn’t you?" Prince Darnell chuckled, leaning against a nearby pillar, unable to hide his amusement.

"She’s pretty great," Trollex nodded, still watching Willow in admiration. "So compassionate and wonderful. Why wouldn’t I at least try?"

"Probably because Branch already looks like he’s planning where to hide your body," Cooper remarked wryly, joining the conversation with a smirk. Trollex glanced back to see Branch giving him a fierce glare, a juxtaposition to the joyful scene of Willow chatting with the K-Pop girls. As Branch transitioned his expression to a grin based on something Willow said, he moved on to engage with the Reggaeton Trolls.

Trollex chuckled nervously at Cooper's words, "He wouldn’t do anything, would he?"

"I don't know," Cooper shrugged leisurely. "Nobody's ever tried flirting with Willow before. But he does have a bunch of traps around their village, and then there's that bunker they live in. We really don’t know what lengths he’d go to keep her safe."

Trollex gulped, a mix of fear and respect dawning on him. "Noted," he replied, the lingering admiration of Willow adding a foolish grin to his face as he watched her charmingly embarrass Branch in front of his bounty hunter friends. "I think she might be worth the death threats, though."

The Funk royalty exchanged glances, shrugging in unison. If Trollex wanted to pursue this path, who were they to stand in his way?

Chapter Text

A week had passed since the exhilarating yet grueling World Tour, and Branch found himself standing outside his sister's bedroom, the air thick with an unspeakable heaviness. He slowly pushed the door open and stepped inside, immediately spotting Willow curled up in her bed, her shoulders shaking as quiet sobs escaped her. A familiar ache welled up in his chest as he approached her side, instinctively knowing that this moment had been building up inside her.

Sighing softly, he settled down next to her, the familiar creak of the bed a comforting reminder of countless shared moments. "Finally hit you, huh?" he ventured, hoping to coax her from her cocoon of blankets. Willow responded by curling up even tighter, pulling the fabric over her head as if it could shield her from the world—her way of saying she wasn’t ready to face it yet.

"Yeah, I figured it would eventually," Branch continued, concern brimming in his voice. "You lasted longer than I thought." It was true; throughout the week, she had worn a brave facade, laughing and cheering as the tribes hung out and got to know each other. He hadn’t realized how much she was holding back until now.

He reached out and gently touched the lump hiding beneath the covers, his fingers brushing against the soft fabric. Rubbing it in a soothing, rhythmic motion, he spoke softly, "It's alright, sis. I'm here." His presence was intended to be a balm, a reminder that she didn't have to face the weight of her emotions alone. As he sat in silence beside her, he hoped his simple act of support would help ease her burden just a little.

(Branch)

Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo

Here comes the sun, and I say

It's alright

The soft sobs gradually faded as Willow tentatively peeked her head out from beneath her colorful blanket. Her tear-stained eyes, still shimmering with remnants of her sorrow, watched with a mix of curiosity and wonder as Branch carried on with his gentle song, his voice weaving through the air like a warm embrace.

(Branch)

Little darlin', it's been a long, cold, lonely winter

Little darlin' , it feels like years since it's been here

Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo

Here comes the sun, and I say

It's alright

Branch's heart warmed as he caught sight of his sister, Willow, gazing at him with a mixture of sadness and vulnerability. “There you are,” he said softly, his voice steady yet laced with concern. He noticed her sitting up, her knees drawn tightly against her chest as if seeking some kind of refuge in her own embrace. “You wanna talk about it?”

Pushing a few stray strands of hair behind her ear, Willow's eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “Poppy left me behind,” she confessed, her voice trembling. “You and Biggie left me behind too! I know you apologized, and Biggie and Poppy did as well, but it still hurts. It hurts so much to realize I wasn’t even a thought when you all left Lonesome Flats.”

She wiped away a tear that had escaped down her cheek, feeling the weight of abandonment pressing on her heart. “Why does it hurt so much?” she wondered aloud, her voice breaking slightly. “I thought I’d be over it by now, but the pain just lingers.”

Branch felt his own heart ache at her words. “We left you behind,” he said quietly, a sorrowful expression crossing his face. “Being abandoned hurts, even when it’s unintentional.” His frustration bubbled to the surface as he added, “When you hatched, I made a promise to myself that I would never abandon you like our brothers did. But then we went on one little adventure with Poppy, and I ended up running off, leaving you alone.”

Willow shifted closer, crawling over to lean her head on his shoulder. “You did the best you could,” she reassured him gently. “And honestly, you were so hopelessly in love with Poppy that you probably wouldn’t have been able to think of anything else.”

Branch chuckled dryly, though the laughter didn’t quite reach his eyes. “If you’re going for comfort, you’re failing,” he said, his tone reflecting his inner turmoil. “That honestly just makes me feel worse.”

Willow let out a resigned sigh, understanding the complexity of their feelings. “Right. Sorry about that,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around him in a tight embrace. “We’re a mess, aren’t we?” The warmth of their connection offered a flicker of hope amidst the pain, a reminder that they were in this together.

(Willow)

Little darlin', the smile's returning to their faces

Little darlin', it seems like years since it's been here

Here comes the sun

Here comes the sun, and I say

It's alright

BBranch grinned at his sister, his eyes sparkling with playful mischief. "No fair," he teased. "I'm the one who's supposed to comfort you, not the other way around."

Willow shot back with a smile, her expression brightening the dimly lit room. "Who says we can't comfort each other?" she replied, her voice light but tinged with sincerity. "Last week was tough on both of us, and I think we can help each other heal."

With a soft sigh, Branch stood up from the edge of the bed and wrapped his arms around Willow in a warm hug, conveying a sense of mutual support. "Yeah, you're right," he admitted, pulling back and giving her a reassuring smile. He reached out to help her out of her bed, the early morning light streaming through the window and illuminating their surroundings. "How about we grab some breakfast? That always helps."

"Can we finish the song we started, too?" Willow asked, her eyes lighting up as she followed her brother into the kitchen, the excitement bubbling up inside her.

"Absolutely," Branch chuckled, moving to the cupboard to grab the pans. "How about we make pancakes?"

Willow nodded enthusiastically and began gathering the ingredients, her spirits lifting as she thought about the delicious breakfast ahead. The kitchen filled with the scent of possibility, as the siblings prepared to not only nourish their bodies but also their bond.

(Branch and Willow)

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Little darlin', I feel that ice is slowly melting

Little darlin', it seems like years since it's been clear

Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo

Here comes the sun, and I say

It's alright

Here comes the sun, doo-doo-doo-doo

Here comes the sun

It's alright

It's alright

The two siblings grinned at each other as they sat down at the old wooden table, their plates piled high with steaming pancakes. The infectious energy of the song they had just finished singing still lingered in the air. "We don't sing together enough," Willow said, taking a generous bite of fluffy pancake, savoring the sweet maple syrup that drizzled down her chin.

Brach nodded, mirroring her enthusiasm as he took a forkful of his own pancakes. "Yeah, definitely. We should make it a regular thing. It’s nice to just sit and enjoy ourselves like this."

For a moment, they ate in comfortable silence, the sound of their forks clinking against the plates filling the room. But then, Willow sighed, the lightness in her eyes dimming. "Why can't I forgive Poppy?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. "I know she feels awful about what happened, and she’s giving me the space I need, but I want to move on—I just can’t."

Branch paused, chewing thoughtfully before responding. "I get it," he said slowly, another bite of pancake hanging in the balance. "You blame her for everything—the separation, the time you spent imprisoned. You went gray because she left you behind." His fists clenched involuntarily as he spoke, emotions flaring. "Honestly, I don’t think I’ve forgiven her for that either."

Willow placed her plate in the sink, her brow furrowed in contemplation. "Yeah" she replied quietly. Then, glancing up at her brother, she asked, "Have you talked to her yet? You told her you loved her. What does that mean for you two now? Are you a couple? Because if you are, you really need to discuss how you feel about me going gray. Relationships can’t survive in silence."

"Not yet," Branch admitted, running a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. "We've all been busy with rebuilding our lives after everything. Poppy mentioned that Queen Barb is coming over today to see how she can help with the restoration."

"Barb's coming over?!" Willow exclaimed, her excitement sparking back to life as she bounced on her toes. "I haven't seen her all week!"

Branch raised an eyebrow, amused by her sudden shift in mood. "Yep, she should be here in a few hours. When did you start just calling her 'Barb' anyway?"

Willow shrugged, a hint of mischief in her expression. "She told me to drop the 'Queen' part before we left Hard Rock City. She said since I stopped calling Trollex 'King,' I should do the same for her."

Branch’s expression turned serious as he remembered the complicated dynamics. "Right, King Trollex," he said slowly, considering the implications. He had forgotten about the two royals’ apparent crushes on his little sister. "So, are you planning to hang out with Queen Barb today?"

"I’m not sure," Willow replied, her excitement laced with uncertainty. "She’ll probably be busy with all the rebuilding. I doubt she’ll have time for me."

Branch sighed, setting his plate down as he stood up to wash it in the sink. "How about this? I’ll go talk to Poppy about how we’re feeling, and you go find a way to hang out with Queen Barb. It might be good for you to spend time with her anyway." He relented, getting used to the idea of Troll royalty being interested in Willow.

"Are you sure?" Willow questioned, a hint of worry flickering in her eyes. "I know you’re still upset with Poppy. I don’t want you to put yourself in an uncomfortable position."

"Yeah," Branch affirmed, determination settling in. "I need to do this anyway. Besides," he added with a smirk, "maybe this will give you the courage to ask Barb out if you actually go and talk to her."

Willow shot her brother a sharp glare. "You've been itching to do that for a long time now, haven’t you?"

Branch chuckled, the playful banter returning. "Consider this payback for not only making bets about when I would finally get together with Poppy but also for bugging me about it for months. Now that you have two Trolls vying for your attention, get ready for some serious teasing."

"You're such a jerk," Willow deadpanned, but a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. Suddenly, a thought struck her. "Wait, two?"

"Yeah, Queen Barb and King Trollex," Branch replied, raising an eyebrow at the stunned expression on his sister's face. "Didn’t you notice?"

"No!" Willow exclaimed, her cheeks flushing a bright shade of pink. "They like me like that? Are you really sure they aren’t just trying to be friends?"

Branch groaned, exasperated. "And these are the consequences of spending twenty-three years in a bunker. Your social awareness is practically non-existent!" He turned to her, his voice softening. "Willow, King Trollex was practically flirting with you at that party. I thought you knew since you were flirting right back."

"That was flirting?!" Willow’s panic bubbled over, her eyes wide with shock. "I had no idea!"

Branch paused, his expression turning serious as he placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "Calm down. If you didn’t know you were flirting, then technically, you weren’t. It’s not that big of a deal. Flirting is intentional—you have to actually want to flirt to do it."

Willow took a deep breath, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and uncertainty. "Alright," she said, furrowing her brows in contemplation. "I didn't even know he was flirting with me." She glanced at her brother, concern etching her features. "Was it really obvious that he was flirting?"

"Well, maybe," Branch replied with a casual shrug, a hint of amusement dancing in his blue eyes. "It took King Quincy pointing it out before I noticed anything at all." He frowned slightly, sensing the weight of his sister's dilemma. "But seriously, do you like him back? Because if his flirting is making you uncomfortable, I can tell him to back off. I’m sure he would listen to me."

Willow shook her head vigorously, her long, bright red hair tumbling around her shoulders as she did. "No, don’t do that," she insisted, burying her face in her hands in an attempt to hide her flustered feelings. "I don’t know. Maybe I do like him back. But I also kind of like Barb, too. Is it wrong to have feelings for two Trolls at the same time?"

Branch grimaced, wrinkling his nose at the thought. "Honestly, I don’t like it,” he admitted, his protective instincts flaring up. “But that’s just because I’m your big brother, and the idea of you being with anyone is automatically gross to me." Willow couldn’t help but snort at his overdramatic reaction. "But in general? Nah. You can like them both if you want. Just be open about it," he added, shrugging his shoulders in a way that suggested a casual acceptance. “You never know; they might surprise you and be okay with it.”

"Maybe,” Willow agreed, though a shadow of doubt crossed her face. "But what if they don’t? I don’t want to risk losing them as friends if it doesn’t work out."

Branch raised an eyebrow, that familiar teasing smile creeping back onto his lips. "'Relationships can't last in silience.' Isn’t that what you said earlier?" he remarked, amusement twinkling in his eyes. “Just have a conversation with them. They seem like decent Trolls, aside from Queen Barb’s questionable ambition to conquer the world, anyway.” He paused, his expression growing more serious. “Are you sure you want to date her?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Willow replied, her voice brightening as she grinned widely. "She’s fiery and passionate, even if she’s a bit misguided sometimes. Plus, she loves her people and plays the guitar beautifully. And don’t even get me started on her stunning red hair.”

“Okay, okay,” Branch interjected, pretending to shield his ears as he grimaced again. “Please stop talking about Queen Barb like that. It’s gross.”

Willow laughed, recalling how she had spent countless hours listening to him rave about Poppy, his own romantic interest. “Hey, I had to endure months of your gushing about Poppy! I think you can handle a few minutes of me expressing how cool Barb is!”

Branch shook his head stubbornly, sticking his fingers deep into his ears. “Nope, not listening,” he declared, breaking into a sprint towards Pop Village with Willow in hot pursuit.

“Branch, you jerk!” Willow shouted, laughter bubbling up as she chased after him. “Get back here! I want to tell you more about how amazing Barb is!”

Just as Willow was about to catch up, the sound of Barb’s voice froze her in her tracks. “What’s this about how amazing I am?” Willow’s cheeks flushed crimson as she turned to see Barb smirking at her, amusement glittering in her eyes. “Hey, Willow. What’s going on?”

“Barb!” Willow exclaimed, her smile widening despite her embarrassment. “It’s great to see you!” She laughed sheepishly, acutely aware of Branch’s chuckling behind her. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Just enough to know that you think I’m super cool,” Barb answered with a chuckle, effortlessly strumming her guitar as she leaned casually against a nearby tree. She tilted her head, a teasing smirk gracing her lips. “I see you kept your piercings.”

Willow instinctively touched one of the earrings, a blend of pride and self-consciousness washing over her. “Yeah, I like them.” Branch never quite shared her enthusiasm about her piercings, but ultimately he accepted that they were a part of her. “They feel right,” she added with a shy smile.

“They look right, too,” Barb nodded approvingly. “You wanna hang out? I’ve got to talk to Popsqueak about some rebuilding details, but I’m free for the rest of the day afterward.”

“Sure!” Willow beamed, her spirits lifting at the thought of spending time with Barb. “I don’t have anything planned.” Barb nodded, her presence radiating confidence and energy as she walked away to find the Pop Troll queen. Willow groaned at the sudden surge of awkwardness that enveloped her. “Was that as awkward as it felt?”

Branch approached, a smirk on his face. “So awkward it was painful,” he admitted, easing himself onto the grass beside her. Willow fell to the ground, dramatically covering her face with her hands. “But hey, that’s okay. Awkwardness happens, and Barb seemed genuinely happy to see you. That’s a good sign.”

“You really think so?” Willow asked, peeking through her fingers to gauge her brother’s expression.

“Yeah,” Branch said with a nod, the warmth of reassurance evident in his tone. “When you hang out with Queen Barb, just relax and be yourself. That’s who she wants to spend time with anyway, right?”

“Yeah, you're right,” Willow said, gratitude softening her features as she sat up straight. "Did you just give me dating advice, Branch?"

A look of horror washed over his face. “Please, don’t say it like that,” he pleaded dramatically, clutching his stomach as if he were about to be sick at the thought.

Willow rolled her eyes, her smile returning. “Shut up, you big dork.” She nudged his shoulder playfully before resting her head against it, feeling the comfort of their sibling bond. “Thanks, big bro.”

Branch chuckled, leaning his head against hers in a gesture of camaraderie. “Anything for you, little sis.” He held up his fist. “You and me?”

“Me and you,” Willow responded, tapping her fist against her brother’s with a sense of shared understanding and support, ready to face whatever came next.

Chapter Text

"So, what’s there to do around here?" Barb asked as they walked away from Poppy and Branch, their voices fading into the background. Branch had already assured Willow that he would make dinner in a few hours, granting her the luxury of not having to rush home anytime soon.

Willow hesitated, glancing around the recovering landscape, the remnants of recent upheaval apparent. "Not much right now," she admitted with a touch of embarrassment. "Everything is still being rebuilt. But don’t worry," she added quickly, trying to inject some optimism. "The fuzzlings are working hard, and everything should return to normal by next week. We could go to the beach if you like. Alternatively, I could take you to my favorite hideaway spot. Only Branch knows it exists, so we could practice some music there if you want. Or maybe you’re hungry? We’ll have to head to the bunker for supplies since the market is still under repair, but I can whip up something nice."

Barb pondered, humming thoughtfully. "How about we combine music practice with a picnic on the beach? But how much of that involves a trip to the bunker?"

"Well, I need to grab a swimsuit," Willow frowned, biting her lip. "And my bass guitar, so pretty much everything?" She scrunched her face in realization. "I didn't think that one through, did I?"

Barb chuckled, a warm smile on her face. "It's fine! I actually wasn’t expecting to see your place yet, but I’m game. Let’s go check out your bunker."

Nervously, Willow fiddled with her fingers as they approached the bunker door. She pushed aside the heavy boulder covering the security panel and placed her hand on the scanner. "That’s a lot of security," Barb remarked with surprise when an iris scanner flickered to life.

"Yeah," Willow chuckled, a hint of embarrassment creeping in. She opened the door, guiding Barb down into the dimly lit bunker. "We had a little incident where some friends hid in here for hours undetected before we realized! So, we decided to beef up security. Only a handful of people can access it without either me or Branch knowing."

"Makes sense," Barb nodded, her respect evident. "You’ve got to protect your space." Her eyes roamed the bunker, taking in the cozy yet fortified living area. "So, you and Branch have made this your home?"

"Yeah," Willow replied, moving towards the kitchen to start preparing a picnic lunch. "We began building it about… let’s see..." She paused to count mentally. "Oh, around twenty-three years ago? But we only finished it about ten years back."

"It looks great," Barb complimented, genuinely impressed. "It’s safe, sturdy, and it feels like you could live here comfortably for years if you had to."

Willow offered a dry chuckle. "Thanks! The Pop Village thought we were just paranoid weirdos for having built it in the first place." She began packing sandwiches and a bowl of fruit salad into a picnic basket. Glancing back at Barb, she asked, "You can hang out here while I grab a swimsuit and my bass. Do you need one? I only have a few options, and they’re mostly bright colors... Branch wouldn’t let me buy any dark ones. He says they camouflage you in water, making it hard for anyone to tell if you’re drowning."

Barb nodded, her expression thoughtful. "That makes sense. I didn’t bring one, so sure, just nothing too Pop-like, okay?"

"One-piece or two-piece?" Willow asked as she started walking toward her room, contemplating. "Definitely a two-piece. I have just the one. Be right back!" She closed her bedroom door and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. "Potential girlfriend in the bunker. Don't panic." Focusing, she quickly rifled through her closet for swimsuits.

When she emerged from her room, Willow found Barb engrossed in reading a scrapbook in the living room, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Sorry it took so long," Willow said, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. "I had a tough time finding the swimsuit for you." She handed the two-piece over to Barb. "You can change in the restroom if you want, or hold off until we get to the beach. I already have mine on," she added, adjusting the purple dress over her swimsuit.

"I can wait," Barb smirked, playful mischief in her eyes. She picked up the picnic basket while Willow slung her bass over her back. "Ready to go?"

Willow nodded, and together they made their way up the elevator. As they walked toward Willow's secret hideaway, their conversation flowed easily. They talked about the efforts Barb had undertaken to help the other Tribes during the ongoing restoration. "It’s been a lot harder than I originally thought it would be," Barb admitted, a hint of sheepishness in her voice. "We really did a number on their homes."

Willow smiled warmly, draping an arm around the Rock Queen's shoulder. "Yeah, but you’re doing what you can to fix it. That has to count for something, right?"

"Right," Barb agreed, flashing a grin. "And everyone has been so understanding about it. I’ve also been chatting with the other leaders to gain some insights." She noticed the proud look on Willow's face and felt warmth spread through her. Blushing slightly, she quickly shook her head. "Where’s this clearing you mentioned?"

"It should be just up here," Willow replied, peering curiously at Barb, whose complexion had deepened to a richer purple. "Are you okay?"

"Yep," Barb assured her with a grin that didn’t quite mask her nerves. "Totally cool." Willow began to pull aside some vines, revealing the lush clearing that awaited them. "How about we start playing?"

Willow raised an eyebrow, intrigued, and nodded enthusiastically. She gently lowered her bass from her back, taking a seat on one of the large, flat rocks nestled in the clearing. Barb followed suit, producing her guitar and strumming a few chords that resonated beautifully through the surrounding trees. Willow grinned, her heart swelling with excitement, as she joined in, letting the music intertwine their spirits in the peaceful sanctuary of their hidden musical retreat.

(Barb)

Load up on guns, bring your friends

It's fun to lose and to pretend

She's over-bored and self-assured

Oh no, I know a dirty word

(Barb and Willow)

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello

With the lights out, it's less dangerous

Here we are now, entertain us

I feel stupid and contagious

Here we are now, entertain us

A mulatto, an albino

A mosquito, my libido

Yeah

Hey

Yay

Willow’s grin widened as she noticed Barb beginning to unwind. The tension in Barb’s shoulders eased, a sure sign that the stress from her endless repairs was starting to melt away. It was a relief to see her true self shine through, the warmth in her smile replacing the furrowed brow that had marked her face for so long. Willow felt a sense of satisfaction in knowing that, even for a moment, she could help Barb let go of her burdens.

(Barb)

I'm worse at what I do best

And for this gift I feel blessed

Our little group has always been

And always will until the end

(Barb and Willow)

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello

With the lights out, it's less dangerous

Here we are now, entertain us

I feel stupid and contagious

Here we are now, entertain us

A mulatto, an albino

A mosquito, my libido

Yeah

Hey

Yay

Barb grinned, her eyes sparkling with delight as she watched the Pop Troll sway to the pulsating rhythms of her favorite rock music. The vibrant energy of the guitar riffs filled the air, a refreshing contrast to the usual melodic pop that surrounded her. It was rare to find someone outside her tribe who could truly appreciate the depth of rock. The realization that this spirited Pop Troll was reveling in the gritty tones and raw emotion made Barb’s heart swell with joy. She loved how rock could evoke such powerful feelings, reminding her that it wasn't solely a weapon of chaos; it also had the power to exhilarate and unite.

(Willow)

And I forget just why I taste

Oh yeah, I guess it makes me smile

I found it hard, it's hard to find

Ooh well, whatever, nevermind

(Barb and Willow)

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello, how low

Hello, hello, hello

With the lights out, it's less dangerous

Here we are now, entertain us

I feel stupid and contagious

Here we are now, entertain us

A mulatto, an albino

A mosquito, my libido

A denial, a denial

A denial, a denial

A denial, a denial

A denial, a denial

A denial

Willow laughed in delight as the final note of the song faded away. "That was surprisingly fun," she admitted, her cheeks flushed with joy. "Honestly, I wasn't sure how it would sound with just the two of us.”

Barb smiled warmly, wrapping her arm around Willow in a playful embrace. “We definitely have a special magic when we play together. Never doubt that!” Their laughter filled the air, weaving into the gentle breeze as they basked in a moment of comfortable camaraderie.

After a while, the gentle rumble of Willow's stomach broke the serene silence. Barb chuckled lightly, her eyes dancing with mischief. “Guess it’s time for lunch, huh?”

Willow nodded, a sheepish grin spreading across her face as she stood, the picnic basket swinging from her arm like an invitation to the feast ahead. “Right! I guess it’s time to hit the beach.” With a playful bounce in her step, she led Barb toward the sand, excitement bubbling in her chest.

Once they arrived at the beach, Willow guided Barb to the change room, the scent of salt in the air invigorating their spirits. After quickly slipping out of her purple dress to reveal a bright yellow one-piece swimsuit adorned with cheerful white daisies, she emerged feeling vibrant and ready for a day of fun. She slid on her sunglasses, the sun reflecting off the lenses, and took a moment to appreciate the stunning view around her.

Spreading out a cozy blanket on the warm sand, Willow settled down, eager to soak up the sun's rays and wait for Barb to join her. Just as she began to relax, a familiar voice cut through the sound of crashing waves. "Looking good, Sweet Beat!"

Willow tilted her sunglasses down, her heart leaping in surprise as she beamed at Trollex, his playful grin radiating energy. Trollex! "Having a good time?”

"Hey!" Willow exclaimed, her face lighting up with a bright grin as she sat up on the beach blanket. "What are you doing here?"

Barb approached with a confident stride, her red two-piece adorned with delicate rose patterns flapping slightly in the ocean breeze. "I invited him," she replied, glancing over her shoulder at Trollex. "I thought it would be nice if we all hung out together. I figured we could meet up at the beach and have some fun. As luck would have it, we didn’t have to plan much more since you suggested a beach day anyway."

Trollex nodded in agreement, his eyes sparkling. "Barb mentioned that we should probably have a serious talk, and I think that’s a great idea." He opened the picnic basket beside him, his expression brightening. "Ooh, sandwiches!" He eagerly grabbed one, clearly excited about the prospect of food.

"Focus, Fish Stick," Barb teased, unable to suppress a chuckle as Trollex settled down, a sandwich in hand. She joined her friends on the blanket, her demeanor shifting to a more serious tone. "Lunch can wait for a bit."

"But I’m hungry!" Trollex whined, his mouth still watering at the thought of the sandwich. He reluctantly put it down, crossing his arms. "Fine. Let’s chat first."

Willow tilted her head, a mix of curiosity and unease washing over her. "What did you two want to talk about?" She adjusted her position, kneeling on the blanket with a sheepish grin. "I have to admit, I'm feeling a little cornered right now."

"Sorry, Sweet Beat," Trollex chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "Barb and I were talking earlier, and we both realized something important. We like you, and we kinda got the feeling that you might like us back. Am I right?"

Willow’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of crimson as she diverted her gaze to the blanket, the weight of the confession settling in. "So, we decided," Barb continued, her voice steady yet tinged with uncertainty, "instead of competing for your attention to see who you prefer, we thought we’d see how you feel about the idea of dating both of us." She watched Willow closely, gauging her reaction. "If it’s not something you're into, we totally understand. We just wanted to put the option out there."

"Yeah," Trollex added, nodding reassuringly as he took a bite of his neglected sandwich. "No pressure at all. We just wanted to be upfront with our feelings, especially since we aren’t too familiar with Pop Troll courting traditions."

Willow let out a small laugh, feeling a mix of relief and joy. "That’s fine," she said. "To be honest, I don’t know much about your customs either." She picked up a sandwich, taking a thoughtful bite. "It’s kind of funny that you brought this up," she admitted, her voice growing softer. "I was just talking to Branch about my feelings and the dilemma of possibly ruining our friendships since I like you both. I wasn’t quite sure how to approach it, and I’m genuinely grateful you brought it up first. I had no idea how long it would take me to say anything."

Nervously, Willow smiled. "I’m not the best at navigating conversations with Trolls when I’m anxious. I’ve never been in a relationship, especially not one that involves two other Trolls. But if you're interested in exploring this arrangement, I’d be willing to give it a shot."

Barb's face lit up with a warm smile as she wrapped an arm around Willow’s shoulder. "We wouldn’t have asked if we weren't truly interested in you," she reassured, glancing over at Trollex. "Both the Fish Stick and I like you. And as long as you're willing, we can give this a try."

Willow nodded, feeling a rush of excitement mixed with nerves as Barb grabbed a sandwich from the basket. "So, what’s the deal now? Are we officially dating? Are you my boyfriend and girlfriend? How does this all work?”

"We don’t have to put any labels on it if you’re not comfortable," Trollex said with a friendly grin. "This is all new for us too, and we can just take things as they come. How does that sound to you?"

"I like that," Willow replied, her smile widening as she gazed out at the glistening waves lapping at the shore. After finishing their lunch in a comfortable silence, Trollex eagerly suggested teaching them to surf. The trio spent the next few hours riding the waves and making joyful memories together, their laughter echoing over the crashing surf.

As the sun began its descent, casting a warm golden hue over the beach, Willow made her way towards the bunker with Barb and Trollex trailing behind her. "Thanks for such a fantastic day, you guys," she grinned, glancing back at them. "I had a lot of fun."

"Of course," Barb replied, her tone bright and enthusiastic. "We should definitely do this more often." She looked at the bunker door, a hint of longing in her eyes. "So, I guess this is where we part ways for now?"

Willow nodded, glancing back at the two Trolls. "Yeah, I think Branch has had enough excitement just from knowing I might be dating. I don’t want to stress him out by inviting you two over for dinner just yet."

Trollex burst out laughing, nodding in agreement. "Good call." He rubbed his arm sheepishly. "Hey, can I give you a hug?"

"You didn't ask the last time we hugged," Willow said playfully, opening her arms wide to embrace Trollex. "What made you change your mind?"

"That was when we were just friends," he replied, squeezing her gently. "Now that we're exploring something more, I wanted to make sure you were comfortable with it."

Willow felt a warm glow in her chest and turned to Barb, inviting her into the hug as well. The three of them shared a moment of closeness, their laughter and joy palpable. After pulling away, Willow beamed at her new friends. "So, I’ll see you later?"

The two Trolls nodded, their smiles bright as they watched Willow unlock the bunker door. As she stepped inside, Trollex and Barb exchanged glances, the excitement of the day still buzzing in the air.

Willow couldn't help but grin as she pulled the lever to the bunker, feeling the familiar lurch as it began its descent to the living area of the bunker. The sound of pasta water bubbling on the stove greeted her as she stepped into the kitchen, where her brother Branch was busy at work. He glanced up, a hint of curiosity in his eyes. “Did you have a good time?” he asked, a wooden spoon in hand, stirring the pot with practiced ease. “You’ve been gone a while.”

Willow nodded, a sparkle of happiness lighting up her face as she made her way to her bedroom. “It was fantastic. Trollex showed up, and we had a lovely picnic by the stream.” She felt her heart flutter at the memory of their laughter mingling with the sounds of nature.

Branch’s expression shifted slightly, and his jaw tightened as he muttered under his breath, “So Queen Barb and King Trollex were here? Great. Love that for you.” His tone dripped with a mix of annoyance and protectiveness, which wasn’t lost on Willow.

“Yeah,” she replied, brushing off his tone as she stepped into her bedroom to change out of her colorful swimsuit and into a soft, cozy pair of pajamas. “We sort of decided we’re dating now? But it’s still new territory for us, so we agreed not to label it just yet.” As she emerged from her room, she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and casually asked, “Did you have a good day with Poppy?”

“Yeah,” Branch said, his mood visibly brightening. “She mentioned she’s been working on her communication skills and listening to others more. I think I’m going to give her a chance.” Willow nodded in approval, feeling a warmth in her chest. “I like her, and I really want this relationship to work for you.”

A smile spread across Willow’s face. “I’m glad you made that choice,” she said earnestly. “You deserve to be happy, bro. And from what I’ve seen, Poppy manages to bring out the best in you almost every day.” She grabbed a plate of steaming pasta from the counter and settled down at the table, savoring the aroma of garlic and herbs wafting in the air. “I hope she keeps doing that.”

“Thanks, sis,” Branch replied as he joined her at the table with his own plate of pasta. He looked thoughtful for a moment before adding, “I hope you and Poppy can get back to being close again soon.” Willow shrugged, her expression becoming more somber. She had been friends with Poppy for a long time, and while reconciliation was possible, she needed time to process her feelings.

“Oh, she did mention that she had a favor to ask you,” Branch continued casually, his fork twirling the pasta. “So I told her to come by in the morning.” Willow’s eyes widened, and she shot him a glare. It was too soon; she wasn't ready to face Poppy yet. “It’s not just a friend request,” he assured her, sensing her discomfort. “She said it’s more of a royal request.”

Willow raised an eyebrow, surprise washing over her. “A royal request? She doesn’t usually ask for those,” she mused, feeling a mix of intrigue and apprehension. With a resigned shrug, she decided, “I guess I may as well hear her out then.”

The two siblings finished their dinner in comfortable silence, the clinking of forks against plates punctuating the evening. After they washed the dishes together, their laughter echoed softly in the bunker, bringing a sense of normalcy to their routine.

As they walked toward their respective bedrooms, Willow paused at her door, glancing back with a cheeky grin. “Oh, by the way,” she said casually, “I let Barb into the bunker earlier while I was making sandwiches.” She reveled in the annoyed expression that crossed Branch’s face. “Goodnight!”

“Willow!” he called after her, his voice a mix of disbelief and frustration, but the quickening footsteps toward her door signaled that she was already well beyond the point of returning.

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry," Willow said, her brow furrowing in confusion. "I don't think I heard you right. You want me to what?" She glanced at Poppy, who sat expectantly at the kitchen table, her eyes sparkling enthusiastically.

"I want you to be my advisor and Pop ambassador," Poppy replied, her smile wide and inviting. "You're the best Troll for the job."

Willow hesitated, her heart fluttering with a mix of excitement and doubt. "I don't know about this, Queen Poppy," she began, her voice softening as she noted the slight flinch Poppy gave at her formal address. It was challenging for Willow to maintain that professional distance when they had shared many adventures. "I don't know the first thing about being an advisor."

"Except you do, " Poppy insisted, leaning forward, her eyes shining sincerely. "Thanks to you, our first party with the Bergens was a tremendous success. You were genuinely interested in learning about them and their cultures, and you quickly became friends with the leaders of the Troll Tribes."

Poppy chuckled sheepishly, a hint of uncertainty crossing her features. "And honestly, I need the help, " she admitted, her tone wavering. "I haven't exactly been the best queen lately. My ideas are often a bit half-baked. I need someone to run my thoughts by and help me work through them."

Willow nodded, her mind racing with memories of Poppy's impulsive plans. Although Poppy's enthusiasm was infectious, it often overshadowed the feelings of the Trolls around them. Willow remembered how Poppy's father had focused solely on the happiness of the Trolls, neglecting to consider the potential consequences of their actions. It was crucial to have someone in the queen's corner who could help her think things through. "Alright, " Willow finally said, her resolve hardening. "I'll be your advisor and ambassador. But what does an ambassador do, exactly? "

Poppy's eyes lit up, but before she could respond, Branch walked in, carrying a steaming cup of coffee. "As the ambassador of Pop, you'd be responsible for maintaining relationships with the other tribes, " he explained, his brow furrowed in concentration. "You'd oversee the trading routes and cultural exchange programs."

He raised an eyebrow at the two girls, sensing their curiosity. "What? I read about it, " he added with a hint of defensiveness.

Poppy nodded vigorously. "Exactly what Branch said. You already have great relationships with the leaders of the other tribes, which makes it easier for you to take on this role. " Her excitement was palpable. "You can do this, Willow."

Encouraged by Poppy's confidence, Willow took a deep breath. "Alright. So what do I need to do first? "

Poppy's grin widened. "I have a big idea I need to run by you. " She reached into her wild hair, pulling out a crumpled paper. She shot Branch a nervous smile. "Sorry, Branch. This is important royal business. I'm not quite ready for anyone else to know about these plans yet. Can we have the room?"

Branch shrugged lightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "Sure thing. I'll be in my office working on gadgets for the village. Just let me know if you need a hand."

Once Branch left the kitchen, Poppy's excitement bubbled over. She unfurled the paper on the table, revealing her scrawled notes. "So, I have a plan to unite the Trolls and make a bunch of new friends. "

" Unite the Trolls? " Willow echoed, her eyebrows knitting together in uncertainty. "You can't be serious."

Poppy leaned in closer, her voice low and earnest. "Not in the same way Barb did, " she assured Willow. "We'd all get to keep our music and identities and learn about the other tribes. Imagine the joy of forging new friendships! I call it 'TrollsTopia. '"

Over the next week, the two spent long hours brainstorming and strategizing how to present the concept of TrollsTopia to the Pop Trolls. They carefully crafted invitations meant for the other tribes, aiming to bring together one ambassador from each tribe to witness firsthand what TrollsTopia could offer—and to discuss what it would mean to welcome them.

When Poppy and Willow finally gathered the Snack Pack to unveil their plan, Willow felt a surge of confidence. They had worked hard, and she believed they were finally ready to share their vision with the rest of their community.

"By nature, Trolls are determined to make friends wherever they go, "  Poppy said, pulling out her scrapbook. She smiled sheepishly. "Maybe too determined. So when I learned there were all sorts of new Trolls out there, it was like there were friends everywhere! Ah, wait, "  Willow watched Poppy, amused as she tried to start over. "I've gotten ahead of myself. Let me back it up."

Poppy grabbed a different scrapbook. "Recently, my people discovered we aren't the only Trolls. We're just the Pop Trolls, one of many separate tribes scattered worldwide. There's the Country Western Tribe, Classical, Funk, Techno, and Hard Rock. "  Poppy paused. "Actually, we weren't always separate. You know what, let me back it up even more."

Willow placed a hand on Poppy's shoulder before she could grab another scrapbook. "I don't think they need to know all that, Poppy. "  She grinned. "Focus on the now so we can tell them your idea."

Poppy grinned sheepishly. "Right. "  She closed the scrapbook. "All I'm trying to say is that it's been weeks since we found out about the other tribes, but we're no better friends with them now than we were then. "  The Snack Pack nodded in agreement. "I mean, I don't wanna get hysterical here, but it's starting to feel like they're our acquaintances."

The Snack Pack gasped in horror. "Mr. Dinkles, "  Biggie sternly looked at his little glow worm. "I don't ever want you using that word. "

" Poppy, " DJ Suki said. "We all want to be better friends with the tribes, but they live so far away. What can we do? "

"I'll tell you what, DJ," Poppy grinned and faced her friends. "We can convince them to move to Troll Village to live with us." She ran over to Smidge." Just close your eyes and imagine hundreds of Trolls from each tribe living in harmony." Then she ran over to Satin and Chenille. "Forming a new Troll city that celebrates the diversity of our cultures." Over to Biggie. "A beacon of love and friendship for everyone!" She jumped down and went back to stand by Willow. "All of us together, different but unified. like.. like.. "

" Like many garments forming one fashion line?" Satin suggested.

"Like many weights forming one dumbbell?" Smidge added.

"Like many glitters forming one glorious glitter fart!" Guy Diamond threw in, sending a glitter fart in the air.

Willow snickered at the group. "Maybe not those. We can work on it some more. "

" Yeah," Poppy grinned.  " We'll keep working on it. But I do know this. We'll call it, ' TrollsTopia. "

" Speaking as a parent, count me in, " Guy Diamond said, grinning.  " I'd love to expose Tiny Diamond to new cultures. He absorbs foreign concepts easily at this stage of development. "

" We all love the idea, Poppy," Smidge grinned.  " It's a stroke of genius." The Snack Pack cheered in response.

"Thank you, guys, "  Poppy smiled. "Wow! Overwhelming support without a single voice of dissent! "  She frowned. "Why does that not feel right Wait, "  She looked at Willow, annoyed. "We're missing someone."

Willow snickered. "I was wondering when you'd notice." She started walking to the bunker. "Branch should still be at home."

" Oh, yeah," Branch grinned. "TrollsTopia, that's a great idea." Branch was indeed at home. He stood on the elevator to their bunker as Poppy told him about TrollsTopia.

The Snack Pack groaned in frustration. "Voice of dissent, check," Poppy muttered, holding her scrapbook about TrollsTopia. Willow grinned at Branch's sarcastic tone. He was excited, she could tell.

"Sorry, guys, but let's be realistic here, "  Branch said, concerned. "You're asking bug groups of Trolls to move away from their homes to live with strangers. I  don't know many Trolls who would sign up for that. "

" Good thing we thought of that," Willow said, crossing her arms. Poppy held out invitations.

" We're sending out these cards inviting an ambassador from each Troll tribe to visit. Then, while we're showing them how incredibly fun life here can be, we pitch them TrollsTopia!" Poppy smiled sheepishly. "I was going to pitch the idea after, but Willow said it may upset them if I  wasn't upfront about it all. "

" It will be better if they go through everything knowing what you want to do, "  Willow nodded. "That way, nobody's caught off guard, and they're all a little more open-minded about it."

" It's settled," Poppy grinned and gave the invites to a mailbug. "Tell the whole village we have guests coming! It's time to get ready!"

Willow strolled over to Branch, her footsteps light and purposeful, as Poppy zipped off on a colorful bug, laughter trailing behind her like a joyful melody. "So, are you excited about the ambassadors coming to learn about TrollsTopia? " she asked, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Yeah, " Branch replied, nodding enthusiastically with a wide grin. "So this is what you've been working on for almost a month? " He glanced at the preparations around them, the vibrant decorations and carefully placed banners signaling the significant event ahead.

Willow chuckled softly, a hint of pride in her voice. "This is purely Poppy's initiative, really. I just helped her fine-tune a few things to make sure it wouldn't blow up in her face. I also suggested that the leaders include their tribes' favorite foods on the RSVP. It's a small way to show them we care and want them to feel at home here. "

Branch's expression softened as he pulled his arm around his sister's shoulder in an affectionate side hug. "It's great to see you and her finding your rhythm again as friends, " he commented, sensing their bond strengthening.

"I'm so proud of Poppy, " Willow admitted, leaning into the warmth of the hug, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "She took my suggestions to heart and is learning how to channel her enthusiasm. I think she can be a bit too impulsive sometimes, but when I talk to her about things, she tries to rein it in. It's not that we were ever not friends—I needed space to process everything."

Branch nodded, understanding the nuances of sibling relationships. "I get that, " he said thoughtfully, pulling away to continue their walk toward the village. "Let's see if Poppy needs help preparing everything for the ambassadors. We want everything to be perfect, don't we? " He smiled, eager to dive into the preparations together with his sister.

When the day the ambassadors were going to arrive came, Poppy gathered all the Pop Trolls to the stage. "This is it, Trolls! " She said, excited. "If we show them a good time, there's no way they'll say no to TrollsTopia! "

" Whoo hoo!" Branch cheered as he walked over to Poppy. "TrollsTopia!" Poppy looked at him, irritated. Of course, he had to sound sarcastic. " Yay! "

" Voice of dissent, double check." Poppy faced the crowd. "Welcome positions!" The crowd quickly formed an orderly line. A gallop was heard in the distance. "Oh! That gallop sounds like our Country's Western ambassador. Their songs will make you get up and yee-haw!"

Willow grinned in excitement when she saw Holly Darlin' jump onto the stage. "Howdy, y'all !"

" Welcome!" Poppy smiled.  " I'm Poppy, and according to your RSVP, I'm guessing you're ... "

" Holly Darlin' from the Country Western tribe! " Holly smiled. "Queen Poppy, it is such a pleasure! I've never met a real-life queen before on account of my tribe being less of a monarchy and more of an oligarchy," She chuckled. "But, to each his own." She grinned and turned to Branch. "Say, you're cute!" She strolled back to Poppy, her excitement bubbling over as she held up her phone for a selfie. "Cheese! And look who's here – it's Willow! Hey, girl! It feels like ages since we were all imprisoned by the Rock Trolls! "

" Holly! " Willow exclaimed, her eyes lighting up with joy as she dashed over, wrapping her arms around the Country Western Troll in a warm embrace. "I'm so happy to see you! " She slipped her arm around Holly's shoulders with a happy smile. "How have you been? We have so much to catch up on! Once I finish greeting the ambassadors, I'd love to show you around and share everything that's happened!"

Poppy grinned as Willow led Holly away. "Well, nice to meet you too." She heard a loud beat as the ground started to shake. "You guys feel that bass?" She asked, grinning. " The Techno ambassador's about to drop a beat!"

The Pop Trolls watched as a stream of water exploded from the ground. A purple Techno Troll popped out with a laser light show and a couple of flying jellyfish. "Hey, yo! What up, Trolls?" The crowd watched in awe as the Techno Troll landed next to Poppy.

"You must be Synth," Poppy guessed, looking at her clipboard.

"And you must be Poppy," the newly named Synth said with a smile. "It is so," Synth imitated an air horn. "to meet you.  Allow me to  say hello the Techno way, with a Rave Wave!" He started bobbing his head to the beat of some music he was playing.

Poppy laughed and started moving her head to the beat. "I love this!" Willow grinned as she started doing the same. It was fun. "Does it ever stop?"

Synth laughed. "Sometimes!" He stood up and walked over to Holly. "Now, let's party!"

Willow beamed excitedly, her eyes sparkling as she exclaimed, "The Techno Trolls are such a blast! " She shot a playful grin at her brother, her enthusiasm infectious.

He raised an eyebrow, smirking as he replied, "You're only saying that because you're dating their king. " His snort of disbelief punctuated his words, teasing her in good fun.

"Okay," Poppy held her head to stop it from moving. " You're delightful." She gasped in excitement when she heard Classical music start playing. "What an elegant, heavenly sound. It can only be the delegate from the Classical Tribe!" The group watched as a flower floated down from the sky.

When it unfolded, out popped a Classical Troll with large pink hair. " Greetings! Dante Crescendo, royal composer. " Dante bowed to the Trolls on the mushroom. " Please accept this anthem as a commemoration of our greeting. " He led a line of musical notes to play a song for them before pointing his wand at Guy Diamond, who farted the last note. " No! You're flat. " Guy quickly corrected by farting the right note. " Better ."

Willow stepped forward and executed a graceful bow, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "Trollzart mentioned you'd be coming, Dante, " she said, a smile spreading across her face as she turned to the floating figure of the Troll. "It's wonderful to see you again. " The two had shared fleeting moments of conversation during their time in captivity, and seeing the familiar features of the Classical Troll brought a sense of comfort.

"And it is equally good to see you, Willow, " Dante replied, a broad smile on his face. "I am eager to hear how your violin playing has developed. " At his words, Willow felt a pang of unease; she grimaced slightly, recognizing the truth behind his compliment. Her skills had barely progressed since their last encounter, stifled as they had been by her demanding responsibilities within TrollsTopia. The longing to practice and perfect her art lay beneath a mountain of duties.

"A true masterpiece, " Poppy said as Willow led Dante to the other ambassadors. Hmm, I don't see the ambassador from the Funk Tribe . "

" Oh, don't worry about that, Poppy, " Copper grinned. " If there's one thing I've learned about the tribe of my birth, " they watched as a spaceship floated into the area. Funk music filled the air.  "  It's that they know how to make an entrance. " When the spaceship stopped, a ray shot down, and an orange Funk Troll was beside Poppy. He had pink sunglasses and a shimmery orange boa.

" Are you Lownote Jones? " Poppy asked, looking at her clipboard.

Lownote Jones laughed and pulled his sunglasses down. " You got that right, baby . "

" Y our voice, " Smidge said in awe. " How do you make everything sound so cool ? "

"It's 'cause I have long vocal cords, which are folds of membranous tissues protruding from the larynx to form a slit across the glottis of my throat, "  Lownote Jones said, grinning.

Smidge grimaced.  " Okay, all those words were really gross, but they sounded so cool. "

Willow nodded. " Funk Trolls are heavy on science and technology. " She nodded at the Funk Troll. " Good to see you, Lownote ."

Lownote Jones chuckled. " Yep. Good seeing you, Willow. " He walked over to the Snack Pack. " Cooper. " He lifted his fist to Cooper.

Cooper raised his fist as well. " Lownote. " Lownote Jones walked over to the rest of the ambassadors.

"So, that just leaves the ambassador from the home of our good friend, Queen Barb, " Poppy grinned. " The Hard Rock Tribe! And her name is.. " She was interrupted by the sound of an electric guitar.

A lightning bolt hit the ground, followed by a flash of fire. When the fire left, Val was standing in its place. " Val Thundershock! Whoo! " She finished the chord on her guitar before her name flashed above her in lights.

"Well, hi, Val. " Poppy smiled from behind her clipboard. " Welcome. I am so glad you came . "

" Wait, wait, wait! " Val raised an eyebrow. " Glad I came? Why wouldn't I come? Rocker Trolls don't follow through on their commitments ? "

" What? " Poppy asked, confused. " No, not at all. I absolutely expected you to be here . "

" Oh! " Val chuckled. " Expected me to be here? So when Queen Poppy sends a Rocker Troll an invitation, they're just supposed to drop everything and come running? Is that it ?"

Willow chuckled lightly, amusement dancing as she glanced at the now-panicking Poppy. "Stop messing with her, Val, " she said, striding confidently over to where her friend stood, her posture exuding reassurance. It was clear that Poppy needed a safety net. "You RSVP'd, girl. Of course, we were expecting you, " Willow continued, her voice warm and inviting as she addressed her brother and Poppy. She turned to Val, a mischievous grin growing on her face. "Val is the one who taught me everything I know about being a Rock Troll. "

"You're no fun," Val pouted playfully, her playful antics a testament to their long-standing bond. She shrugged and draped an affectionate arm around Willow's shoulders to demonstrate their friendship. " But I guess that's fair, "" she conceded, offering a warm smile towards Poppy. ""Great to see you again, Popsqueak.""

"" I have to show you the rage room I created a while back," "Willow said enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she started to lead Val toward the rest of the ambassadors. ""You're really going to love it!""

Branch observed the interaction from a short distance, raising an eyebrow at his sister's ease with the others. " He seems to be getting along nicely with the rest of the group," he remarked, noting the animated laughter that erupted from Poppy and Synth, the Techno ambassador, who was sharing a joke.

"" Which makes her the perfect ambassador," "Poppy agreed, her expression brightening. ""always knew she was the right choice."" A sense of pride washed over her, knowing that their bonds of friendship not only strengthened their community but also made them all the more resilient against whatever challenges lay ahead.

" Well, everyone's here," Smidge said, walking up.  " What now?"

"ow, we show these Trolls the time of their lives, "" Poppy said, determined. "We'll mention TrollsTopia during the ice cream banquet." They had a thirty-nine-course ice cream banquet prepared. It had everyone's favorite flavor. Willow grinned when everyone got excited about glitter falling from the sky.

"Now that everyone is relaxed," Poppy began, sitting down. "Willow and I thought it would be good to tell you why we invited you all here. ""She began her pitch about TrollsTopia. When it was finished, she looked at the ambassadors, who had been listening intently up to that point.

"Obviously, we don't expect you to make any life-changing decisions right now, ""Willow said, her hand folded in front of her. ""But we would ask that you keep an open mind and let yourselves enjoy what our little village has to offer." The group of ambassadors looked at each other before nodding. "We'll hear you out, "Synth said, grinning at the Pop Trolls. "It could be fun."

Poppy grinned and cheered. "Then let's get started!"

(Poppy)

Are you ready for a good time?

'Cause that's how we like to roll

Yeah, we always find a reason to celebrate

(Holly Darlin')

Was born ready for a good time

And I'm already havin' a ball

I like the feelin' of this place

(Synth)

Yeah, yeah, all my people came ready for a party

Yeah, we rave till the morning comes

We can show you how we do when we come through

How we movin' to the rhythm

(Dante Crescendo)

Oh, I didn't know that life

Could ever be this fu-uh-uh-uh-uh-un

(Lownote Jones)

Jubilation in the air

Raise your hair

Wave it left, wave it right

Can ya dig, outta sight

Oh, yeah

(All Trolls)

When we're together

We find perfect harmony

Magical everything

Here we go to the sky

You and I will find a good time

It's guaranteed

You, me, everybody

Magical everything

Here we go to the sky

You and I will find a good time

Willow stood beside Val, watching as the rest of the ambassadors frolicked in the sparkling glitter scattered around them by the playful Glitter Trolls. The vibrant colors shimmered in the sunlight, but despite the festive atmosphere, Willow could sense the tension in her friend.

" I know it's not exactly what you'd call Hard Rock around here," she said, glancing sideways at Val, a hint of concern in her eyes.

Val snorted dismissively, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. " Tell me about it. For Hard Rockers, fun is about being reckless, pushing boundaries, and breaking the rules. This? It feels nothing like the wild spirit of my tribe back in Volcano Rock City.""

Willow nodded thoughtfully, taking in Val's frustration. " I totally understand. My people don't really know much about the Hard Rock way of life either, " she admitted, her tone sincere. "But that's part of what we're trying to change with TrollsTopia. We want everyone to come down here, share their unique experiences and cultures, and learn from one another. It's a fantastic opportunity to make new friends and broaden our horizons, " she added, her eyes sparkling with excitement. "So, what do you think? Would you want to be a part of that?""

Val shrugged, her expression softening just a bit. " Sure, why not? Not like I was doing anything all that important in Volcano Rock City anyway," she replied, a hint of playfulness creeping back into her voice.

Encouraged by Val's Response, Willow beamed and pulled her into a warm, one-armed hug. " Perfect! Now I can finally show you my rage room!" she exclaimed, her enthusiasm infectious.

Together, they walked over to where Poppy and the other ambassadors were gathered, excitement buzzing in the air. Willow turned to Val with an eager smile. "So, what do you think about TrollsTopia so far?" she asked the other ambassadors.

"I know coming together would be challenging," Poppy admitted. "But if you ask me, it is worth it because it also gives us a chance to become friends to learn from each other and grow into one Troll nation, different but unified, like, uh… like …"

"Like many notes making one beautiful chord," Val supplied helpfully.

Poppy grinned. "Yes, that's exactly what I've been trying to say."

"Don't get used to it."

"Okay," Poppy raised an eyebrow but left it alone. "What about the rest of you? What do you say?"

"Well, Poppy," Holly spoke up. "You're suggestin' we go back and tell our friends to leave their homes and to move here. And even though today's been fun, that's a lot to ask." The rest of the ambassadors murmured in agreement. "Then again," Holly grinned. "Dang, y'all, we sure do make some great music together!"

"You got that right, baby," Lownote grinned. "Let's do it!" The other ambassadors cheered in response.

"Yes!" Poppy cheered. She grinned at Branch. ""And you thought this was a terrible idea."

"What are you talking about?" Branch asked, confused. "I never said this was a terrible idea."

Poppy thought back to everything Branch had said. "But you've been so sarcastic this entire time."

"Really?" Branch furrowed his brow. "Huh, I guess I have to work on that." He glared fiercely at his sister, who was doubled over with laughter. "You've let her go all day thinking I was just being sarcastic? You knew how thrilled I was about TrollsTopia actually working out," he exclaimed, frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Willow erupted into another fit of giggles, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned against Val for support. "I'm sorry!" she managed between breaths, her laughter infectious. "It was just too hilarious to set the record straight. Poppy was absolutely livid with you."

Val, struggling to contain her laughter, joined in the merriment, her cheeks flushing as she teetered on the edge of losing her balance.

Branch growled before looking at Poppy. "Excuse me. I have a sister to strangle. "He started chasing his sister around the clearing they were in.

Willow laughed as she ran from her brother. "Oh, come on, Branch! It was funny!"

Chapter Text

"Hey, Poppy," Willow called out as she made her way across the vibrant garden, where Poppy was meticulously writing out invitations for the highly anticipated TrollsTopia kickoff party. Brightly colored flowers surrounded them, casting cheerful shadows in the warm sunlight. With a playful flourish, Willow pulled a crumpled invitation from her wild, curly hair and handed it over to the queen.

Poppy took the invitation and read it aloud with a hint of curiosity. "Dear Ambassador, we are excited to extend this invitation to you for the first annual leader's retreat." A smile spread across her face as she returned the invite to Willow. "It sounds like it found its way to the right Troll if it ended up with you."

Willow's brow furrowed in confusion as she processed the words. "But I’m not the tribe's leader. Why would they send me this invitation?"

Poppy chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief. "Because I asked them to." She stepped closer, her tone light and reassuring. "Willow, you’re the Pop ambassador. Your role is vital, and while I would love to have you here to help keep me out of trouble, maintaining relationships with the other tribes is your main responsibility. You’ve built such strong connections with their leaders; it's essential to keep those friendships flourishing."

With a sheepish grin, Poppy added, "Besides, I don’t think I’d be able to attend even if I wanted to. I’ve got too much on my plate here in TrollsTopia, and someone has to represent us."

Willow let out a resigned sigh, nodding in understanding. "You’re right. It would be rude for one of us not to show up," she conceded reluctantly. "Fine, I’ll go. I guess that means I’ll be missing the kickoff party." As she glanced at the invitation again, she noticed a note at the bottom. "It says someone will come by tomorrow to pick me up if I'm going, so I need to start packing."

With a wave to her friends, she added, "I’ll see you all tomorrow then!" The group of Trolls exchanged waves and bright smiles as Willow turned to leave Poppy’s pod, a mixture of excitement and apprehension swirling within her.

"So how did your chat with Poppy go?" Branch asked, glancing up from the dog-eared book he had been engrossed in on the couch as Willow made her way back into the bunker. He set the book aside, putting his full attention on her. "Did everything with the invitation get sorted out?"

Willow let out a resigned shrug as she plopped down beside her brother on the couch, her mind still swirling with the details from the conversation. "I guess so," she said, her voice tinged with uncertainty. "The invite ended up being sent to the right person after all. Poppy's swamped with her responsibilities for TrollsTopia, so she suggested they just send me the invites for these events instead."

Branch's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "So you're going on a trip then?" He leaned in, his curiosity piqued as he shifted in his seat. "Do you at least know where you're headed?"

Willow shook her head, a hint of excitement mixed with apprehension coloring her expression. "All I know is that it’s somewhere with a beach, and I’ll be away for an entire week," she said, a hint of regret surfacing in her voice. She rose from the couch, glancing around as if the room could offer her some reassurance. "I suppose I’d better figure out what to pack."

"And at least you’ll know which Trolls will be there," Branch added, his face lighting up with a supportive grin. He stood up as well and stretched. "I’m thinking pizza for dinner tonight. Why don’t you go get your stuff together, and I'll get started in the kitchen?" He gently ruffled her hair, an endearing gesture that reminded them both of simpler times. "And we can have our little routine of eating dinner and brushing each other's hair before bed. Sound good?"

Willow smiled softly, a warmth spreading in her chest. "We haven’t done that in ages, have we?" she remarked, a flicker of guilt crossing her mind. Life in TrollsTopia had monopolized her time, leaving little room for brother-sister bonding.

"Hey, don’t feel bad about it," Branch said, his tone light and reassuring. "You’ve been busy helping Poppy with some really important stuff. I completely understand." He waved her off playfully. "Now go on and pack. Dinner will be ready before you know it."

After Willow returned from her packing escapade and they had enjoyed a warm meal together, they found comfort in the familiar atmosphere of their living room. Branch sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch, while Willow took to brushing through his hair with deliberate care.

"What do you think you’ll be doing at this retreat?" Branch inquired, his curiosity rekindled. "You mentioned it’s by the beach, right?"

Willow pondered as her brush glided through his hair, the rhythmic motion soothing both of them. "I’m honestly not sure. I think it’ll mostly be the tribe leaders discussing various topics like their territories and potential trade collaborations with the other tribes. But I doubt I’ll have much to contribute. After all, I’m not the Pop leader." She set the brush down gently after one final stroke. "All brushed out!"

"You’ll be just fine," Branch reassured her with confidence as they switched places. "The leaders already love you; there's no need for you to impress them. If you’re off to a beach, maybe the real goal is to unwind and enjoy yourself. I can only imagine how much the other tribes have had to deal with in terms of rebuilding after everything that’s happened." He couldn’t help but think back to how Pop Village had managed the quickest recovery, taking only two weeks, while other tribes, much larger in scale, might still be in the thick of repairs. "Just remember to focus on having a good time with your friends and relaxing," he advised, turning her head to meet her gaze with a warm smile. "You deserve a vacation, you know."

Willow sighed softly, pulling her knees to her chest and an air of worry washing over her. "Are you really going to be okay with me being gone for an entire week? To a place we’ve never been?"

"Do you mean 'Will I be okay physically or mentally?'" Branch chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. When her reply came back affirmatively, he laughed again. "I’ll be perfectly fine! I can hang out with Poppy, the Snack Pack, and the other ambassadors. They’re actually a surprisingly interesting bunch. Sure, I’ll miss you while you’re away, but I know you’ll be back before I know it. Besides, the other leaders won’t let anything happen to you. You’ll be perfectly safe."

Willow nodded slowly, feeling somewhat reassured by his words. "Yeah, I suppose you’re right." Her expression turned serious as she continued looking at her brother. "But I better not hear that you’ve been neglecting your meals while I’m gone. If I do, Poppy will be sure to tell me."

Branch chuckled as he skillfully braided Willow’s hair, enjoying the process and the connection between them. "Trust me, I know she will," he replied, a cheeky grin on his face. "Honestly, the only thing you should focus on is spending quality time with your friends." He grimaced playfully. "Even if two of them are King Trollex and Queen Barb."

Willow couldn’t help but giggle at the incredulous expression on Branch's face. His protective big-brother mode was both adorable and amusing. "You know, maybe you should think about spending some of your time with Poppy too," she suggested, a teasing glint in her eyes. "I’m certain she could use a date night sometime this week as well."

The suggestion seemed to light a spark in Branch's eyes. "You’re right; I should absolutely do that," he said eagerly. "But what would be fun for us to do?"

"Maybe you should just ask her," Willow replied, standing and stretching a bit, her own excitement bubbling over. She turned to smile at her brother. "I’m sure she’d be thrilled to do anything with you. She really does care about you."

"She does, doesn’t she?" Branch’s tone softened, a genuine warmth filling his expression. "Alright, I’ll talk to her and figure out a date night sometime this week." As they made their way to their respective bedrooms, he paused for a moment. "See you in the morning, sis." He wrapped her in a tight hug before letting go and heading down the hall.

Willow sighed as she entered her room, the familiar comfort of her space washing over her. "Now I just need to tackle some paperwork for TrollsTopia," she muttered to herself, settling into her desk chair. The list of tasks loomed before her, magnifying her sense of responsibility. "Dante requested new tea flavors for the Classical Trolls, and Val asked for more canned cheese." She furrowed her brow in thought. "And Synth mentioned something about their four a.m. raves? I need to brainstorm some locations that could work for that." And so, with a determined breath, she dove into her work, ready to face the challenges of the day.

-----

The next morning, the sun peeked over the horizon, casting a warm glow on Willow and Branch as they made their way to the meeting spot where their friends eagerly awaited them. Branch stole a sideways glance at his sister, his brow furrowed with concern. "You didn't get any sleep at all last night, did you?"

Willow stifled a yawn and blinked a few times, trying to shake off the remnants of drowsiness. "What's that?" she replied, her voice still thick with sleep. Once she focused on her brother's incredulous expression, she added with a sheepish shrug, "I slept a bit." She was pretty sure she had passed out at her desk at some point during the night anyway.

Branch raised an eyebrow, skepticism etched all over his face. "Yeah, you look well rested," he said humorously, the sarcasm lacing his words. He gestured toward the cheerful group of friends waiting nearby: Poppy, Cooper, Biggie, and the rest of the Snack Pack, all buzzing with excitement. "You were up working on those plans for TrollsTopia again, weren't you?" The guilty grin on Willow's face made his suspicions all the more certain. With a dramatic groan, he shook his head. "You definetely need a break."

As they approached their friends, Poppy dashed forward, bouncing on her toes with eagerness. "You better take lots of pictures while you're gone!" she insisted, her eyes shining with anticipation.

"And don’t forget to bring back some souvenirs,” Cooper chimed in, a wide grin stretching across his face.

Biggie nodded enthusiastically while cradling Mr. Dinkles, his beloved toy. "You have to tell us all about everything you see!"

"The people!" Guy Diamond added, his voice filled with excitement.

"The food!" Smidge said, practically salivating at the thought.

"The fashion!" Satin and Chenille squealed in unison, their eyes lighting up at the idea of new styles and trends.

Willow laughed, her heart warming at her friends' enthusiasm. "Guys! I'm only going to be gone for a week! I promise, I'll share everything I see when I get back."

Branch’s expression changed, a hint of worry flaring in his eyes. "Just remember to come back," he said softly, his voice laced with an earnest plea.

Willow's gaze softened as she met her brother's eyes, recognizing the depth of his concern. "I'm not leaving you for good,” she promised, her voice steady and reassuring. “You're not getting rid of me that easily." She wrapped her arms around him in a heartfelt embrace, feeling him relax against her. “Just remember, I’m going on a trip, not leaving forever. I’ll always come back.”

Branch squeezed her tightly before releasing her, a small smile breaking through his earlier worries. "I know,” he replied, his tone warm with brotherly affection. “Just be careful, okay? Seriously, get some rest."

As the caterbus pulled up with a gentle rumble, Branch raised his fist in a gesture of solidarity. "You and me?”

“Me and you,” Willow responded, a bright smile lighting up her face. She tapped her fist against her brother’s, and the Snack Pack shared in their moment, all grinning widely in celebration of their bond.

"Does this mean you're coming?" A voice called from the caterbus.

Willow's face lit up as she turned to see Barb leaning casually against the side of the bus, a playful smirk on her lips. "Barb!" she exclaimed, excitement bubbling in her voice. Branch, standing nearby with Poppy, rolled his eyes good-naturedly at the sight of their reunion. "It's so good to see you!"

Barb laughed heartily, embracing Willow in a warm hug that seemed to last forever. "Good to see you too, Popstar!" she said, her voice filled with genuine affection. Pulling away, she hoisted Willow's bag over her shoulder. "We were just waiting for you to get here. Are you ready to go?"

Willow glanced back at her brother, pulling him into another embrace before finally letting go. "I’m ready now," she said, her heart full as she waved goodbye to the remaining friends. "See you all later!" she called, a cheerful farewell that echoed in the air as they waved back.

As the caterbus started to roll away, Willow turned to greet the other leaders, her spirit lifted. "King Quincy, Queen Essence," she beamed at the Funk Royals seated nearby. "It's wonderful to see you again."

"It’s good to see you, too," Queen Essence replied, her smile broadening. A hint of concern creased her brow as she studied Willow’s face. "But you look a little tired. Have you been getting enough sleep?"

Willow shrugged, a playful grin dancing on her lips. "I've just been getting used to my new role as Pop ambassador." She settled into her seat next to Barb and exchanged a hug with Delta Dawn. "This TrollsTopia plan Poppy has come up with has taken a lot of logistics to organize. We’ve only recently finished building the living areas so the other genres can live comfortably."

"So the answer is 'no,' then, you haven't been catching enough z's," Delta Dawn interjected, her voice laced with playful authority. "First thing you’re doing once we arrive is napping." She raised her hand to halt any protest from Willow. "I don’t want to hear it. You need to rest," she added, her glare firm yet affectionate. "And don’t even think about arguing."

"Delta is right," Trollzart chimed in wisely, his eyes fixed on Willow. "If you don’t get enough sleep, you'll struggle to focus, and if you're not focused, you're more likely to make mistakes. Rest is essential for any Troll, and neglecting it won't do you or those around you any good."

Willow sighed, the weight of their concern wrapping around her like a cozy blanket. She leaned against Barb, her head finding a comfortable spot on the Rock Queen’s shoulder. "Fine. I'll get some rest when we get there." She glanced at Barb, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "So, where are we headed? And what about Trollex? I thought you said you got everyone."

"We're off to this charming place called Vacay Island," King Quincy announced, his smile warm and inviting. "King Trollex thought it would be an ideal spot for a little retreat."

Barb chuckled, adding, "The Fish Stick mentioned he'd meet us there. I guess he lives closer and figured it would be quicker for him to set things up. He also wanted to prepare a few rooms for our stay."

Willow hummed thoughtfully, while Barb’s fingers softly played with her hair, a soothing gesture that made her eyelids grow heavy. "Vacay Island sounds wonderful. Is this really a vacation?" She closed her eyes, melting into the comfort of Barb’s embrace, and slowly sank back against the seat.

"You could say that," Delta Dawn remarked, raising an amused eyebrow at the sight of the two Trolls. They exchanged a knowing glance with Queen Essence, who was having trouble stifling her laughter. Barb, unfazed, continued to gently twirl Willow's hair, her focus solely on her girlfriend. "We thought using the word 'retreat' made it sound more official."

Willow nodded, her smile returning. "Since we're going to the beach, we should definitely build sandcastles. And surf! I love surfing! Want to join me, Barracuda?"

Barb snorted, a warm blush spreading across her cheeks at the nickname. "Whatever you want, Popstar," she replied, affection lacing her tone.

Delta Dawn and Queen Essence exchanged quiet giggles at the sight of Willow, who had already drifted off to sleep against Barb. "I never thought I'd witness the day the Hard Rock Queen herself would go soft," Delta Dawn joked, her smile bright.

Barb flushed under their teasing but shot an amused glare at the floor. "Please, shut up," she hissed lightly, though her tone held no real malice. "She was exhausted, and that was the only way I could think to help her sleep."

"Honestly, I think it was sweet," Queen Essence chimed in, a warm smile gracing her features. "And if she fell asleep that quickly, it's clear she needed it. It’s good to see you caring for her." A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes. "And she certainly seems comfortable with you, 'Barracuda.'"

Barb rolled her eyes again, still gently brushing her fingers through Willow's hair. "I have no idea where she came up with that nickname," she muttered, somewhat amused as she continued to maintain her hold.

"Regardless," Trollzart said, his voice thoughtful, "it looks like this vacation is much needed. Not just for our Pop Troll friend, but for you, too." He pointed to the faint bags under Barb's eyes. "When was the last time you allowed yourself to unwind?"

"I don't know, man," Barb admitted with a shrug. "I’ve been a little preoccupied with making amends lately." She mused quietly to herself, "Maybe when we arrive, I should take a nap as well."

"You could just take a nap now," King Quincy suggested cheerily. "We can wake you when we get there."

Barb frowned slightly, but a yawn escaped her lips, betraying her fatigue. "Fine. I’ll get some rest," she conceded, settling against the wall of the caterbus with Willow's hair still woven between her fingers. Soon, with a soft exhale, she too drifted into a peaceful slumber, the rhythmic hum of the bus lulling the girlfriends into tranquility.

“Does anyone have a camera?” Delta Dawn asked, glancing at the two Trolls seated across from her, a hopeful smile lighting up her face. Her heart swelled with gratitude when King Quincy promptly handed her his camera. “This is going straight into a scrapbook later,” she promised, capturing a moment in time with the click of the shutter.

As the remaining tribe leaders engaged in conversation, the sun's gentle rays filtering through the bus windows, the younger members of their group drifted into peaceful slumber. It was during this tranquil moment that Barb stirred awake from her nap, her bright eyes blinking away sleep. “What are we talking about?” she inquired, rubbing her eyes sleepily.

“We’re considering starting monthly meetings,” Delta Dawn replied enthusiastically, her smile radiating warmth toward the young queen. “We think it’ll be a wonderful way to stay in touch and lend support whenever it's needed.”

“Really?” Barb’s face lit up with excitement as she glanced over at the mayor of the Country Western Tribe, her curiosity piqued. Just then, she felt Willow twitch in her arms, though she remained sound asleep. “That sounds awesome! Do you think we’ll hold those meetings with Willow or Poppy?”

Queen Essence pondered for a moment, shrugging her shoulders lightly. “I don’t see why we wouldn’t include both. It might be beneficial to make the meetings involve not only the leaders but also the ambassadors. They should be kept in the loop too.”

Barb nodded, deep in thought. “Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.” A smile broke through her contemplative expression as she felt the caterbus come to a halt. “Looks like we’re here!”

Peering out the window, the leaders were greeted by the sight of the ferry docked at the harbor. Joyful smiles spread across their faces as the caterbus disembarked, and they watched in awe at the islanders bustling around them, towering over their smaller frames. “These guys are massive,” Barb exclaimed, her voice filled with wonder as they rolled to a stop in front of a quaint establishment labeled 'Bruce and Sons and One Daughter.' “This is the spot where we’re supposed to meet Fish Stick and his friend, right?”

King Quincy nodded in affirmation as they disembarked from the caterbus. Trollzart stepped in to assist Barb, helping her adjust Willow snugly in her arms to ensure the Troll remained undisturbed as they stepped off the bus. He lent a hand to the others with their bags, his wings flaring wide as he ascended from the caterbus, a picture of grace amidst the bustling scene.

“Hey everybody!” Trollex greeted them with an infectious grin, the vibrant hues of his long purple hair catching the sunlight, while a laid-back, purple-haired Troll followed closely behind. “How was the trip?” His eyes softened at the sight of Willow still peacefully asleep, nestled in Barb’s arms. “Someone got a little sleepy, huh?”

“Yeah,” Barb chuckled softly, glancing at Trollex. “Is there somewhere I can put her so she’ll be more comfortable?”

“Let me carry her,” Trollex suggested, extending his arms with a reassuring smile. “You look like you’re starting to struggle a bit.” Gratefully, Barb nodded, and together they gently transferred Willow into the Techno Troll's sturdy arms. Both of them grinned as Willow instinctively burrowed her face into Trollex’s shoulder, seeking comfort in the warmth.

“We’ve got some rooms set up in the back,” the purple-haired Troll said, a relaxed air about him. “Name’s Bruce, by the way.”

“I'm Queen Essence,” she introduced herself with a graceful nod, gesturing toward her husband. “This is my husband, King Quincy.” The Funk King offered a nod of his own in acknowledgment. “These are my esteemed companions: Trollzart of the Classical Tribe, Delta Dawn of the Country Westerns, Queen Barb of the Hard Rock Trolls, and our very own Ambassador Willow from Pop Village. And, of course, you know King Trollex.” Each leader acknowledged Bruce with a smile, Willow sound asleep in Trollex’s gentle embrace.

“Pop Village, huh?” Bruce remarked thoughtfully, his eyes lighting up with curiosity. “Nice to meet you all!” He waved his hand, motioning for the group to follow him as he began to lead them down a charming path away from the caterbus. “We used to not get a lot of Troll visitors,” he shared, glancing over his shoulder with a hint of nostalgia. “That all changed when King Trollex here showed up, looking for a place above water for raves. Thanks to the Techno Trolls’ visits, we had Troll-sized rooms constructed for any extended stays.”

As they walked, Bruce gestured to the cozy accommodations awaiting their arrival. “Here are your rooms,” he announced with a smile. “Let me know when you’re ready for dinner, and we’ll whip something up special for you all.” The leaders exchanged glances filled with excitement and anticipation, ready to embrace their next adventure.

It was late in the night when Willow finally stirred awake, her senses slowly adjusting to her surroundings. Confusion washed over her as she realized this was not the familiar interior of the bus. The room was dimly lit, its gentle glow casting soft shadows on the walls. Suddenly, a familiar voice broke the silence. "Hey, Sweet Beat," Trollex greeted her with an easy smile, relief evident in his tone. She returned his grin, feeling a sense of comfort wash over her at the sight of him. “Glad to see you awake,” he added, getting up from his seat.

As she swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood, Trollex moved closer, radiating warmth and reassurance. "Barbed Wire and I have been switching out every hour while you were out. We didn’t want you waking up in a strange place alone." His concern was palpable, and Willow felt thankful to have her partners looking out for her. "I bet you're hungry. Come on, I think my friend Bruce still has some dinner left over."

Willow nodded, her curiosity piqued as she followed Trollex out of the cozy bedroom. The hallway before her was expansive, lined with towering doors and decorated with vibrant tapestries that depicted scenes of Troll harmony. Just as she was taking it all in, a massive figure appeared around the corner, and Willow instinctively pressed her back against the wall, her heartbeat quickening.

“Brandy!” Trollex called out cheerfully, his expression brightening instantly as he recognized one of the giants. "What's up?" Willow's eyes widened in uncertainty. The sheer size of Brandy, a Vacayer, was intimidating, and the last lingering traces of fear pulsed through her.

Trollex noticed her discomfort and swiftly turned to reassure her. “Sweet Beat?” he asked gently, concern etching his features. “Are you okay?” He tilted his head, surprised by the whimper that escaped her lips. Understanding dawned on him. “Oh, right!” He turned back to Brandy. “Sorry, Brandy, could you take a step back for a minute? I think she’s a little spooked.” With a smile, Brandy nodded, giving them space.

With Brandy bearing a friendly smile, Trollex refocused on Willow. “Hey, girl. Delta Dawn told us about what happened with the Bergens, so it’s perfectly normal if you’re feeling a bit freaked out. But you don’t need to worry at all here. Especially not with Brandy!” He pointed toward Brandy, who stood towering beside them. “She’s my friend Bruce’s wife. You remember me talking about Bruce, right?”

“Your friend, Bruce,” Willow echoed softly, her memory jogging. “Bruce the surfer Troll, right?” She considered, trying to piece together bits of conversations she had overheard. “I remember something like that.” Her uncertain gaze shifted between Trollex and Brandy. “We're safe?”

“We’re safe,” Trollex affirmed, his smile reassuring. “Would you like to meet Brandy? I promise she’s really nice.”

Willow nodded hesitantly, and Trollex gestured for Brandy to come closer. “Hello,” Brandy said in a gentle tone that immediately put Willow at ease. “My name is Brandy. You must be Willow, right?” Willow nodded, shyly eyeing the tall Vacayer. “It’s lovely to meet you. Some of your friends are in the kitchen. Would you like to join them?” Upon Willow’s hesitant nod, Brandy extended her hand. “I can carry you if you’d like. It’ll get you there much faster, and you won’t have to worry about getting lost so soon into your visit.”

Grateful for the offer, Willow nodded again. “Thank you,” she replied softly as she grasped Trollex's hand while Brandy gently lifted them both. They moved through the expansive space, Willow gazing around in wonder at the intricate decorations and colorful murals adorning the walls, all while trying to mentally ground herself alongside her friends.

“Is this your home?” she inquired as they approached the kitchen, her awe uncontained. “It’s very nice.” She noticed the way Trollex and Brandy chatted, their voices warm and familiar, making her feel a little more at ease.

“Hey, Sugarcube,” Delta Dawn looked up from her card game with Trollzart as Brandy placed Willow on the kitchen table. “We were wondering when you’d wake up.” A playful smirk danced on her lips as she watched Brandy retrieve a plate from the fridge. “We saved you a plate of food. Hope you’re hungry!”

Brandy smiled as she set the plate down, the aroma of scallion pancakes wafting through the air. “I hope you like scallion pancakes. They’re not as good cold, but I can heat them if you’d like.”

Willow’s eyes lit up as she settled down beside Delta. “I’m sure they taste great.” She eagerly grabbed a pancake and took a hearty bite, her expression brightening as the delicious flavors danced on her palate. “This is so good.” She glanced around the kitchen, curiosity bubbling within her. “Where’s everyone else?” For the moment, only Trollex and Delta shared this space with her.

“They’re on the beach,” Delta snorted, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Bruce introduced Barb to something called ‘bonfires.’ When you’re done eating, we can head out there if you’d like.”

“Sure,” Willow grinned, a delightful sense of anticipation swelling in her chest, though it was soon accompanied by a hint of guilt. “Sorry I slept so long. I didn’t realize I was more tired than I thought.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Trollex replied warmly, enveloping his girlfriend in a supportive hug. “You clearly needed the rest. And that’s what this vacation is about—getting some rest and relaxing.”

Willow nodded, focusing intently on savoring her pancake while listening to Trollex and Delta share stories about their day. It was nice, she thought, to be able to just relax, free from the weight of her responsibilities back at TrollsTopia.

When she finished the delicious pancake, she followed Trollex’s lead and let Brandy scoop her up once again. With newfound energy and excitement, she eagerly anticipated the adventure awaiting them by the beach.

From the brief conversation she had with the Vacayer, Willow felt a genuine fondness for the woman. There was a refreshing ease about her; she was laid-back and embraced spontaneity. Notably, she didn’t take offense when Willow had panicked earlier. It turned out that dealing with fear of creatures larger than themselves was something the Vacayer had helped her husband navigate when he first arrived in their world.

As the group approached the bonfire, its flames flickered brightly against the twilight sky, casting dancing shadows on the ground. Barb, alongside another Troll with striking long purple hair, was busy adding more sticks to the fire, coaxing it into a hearty blaze. When Brandy stepped forward, King Quincy and Queen Essence greeted her with warm smiles. "Welcome to the party," King Quincy said, his voice filled with inviting cheer. "We were waiting for you."

"Hope you weren't waiting too long," Willow replied with a playful grin. "I had to grab a quick bite to eat first." Trollex led her over to join Barb, who was now comfortably seated by the fire, a wide grin plastered across her face. She wrapped a welcoming arm around Willow, pulling her into the cozy circle of friends.

"Not too long at all," Queen Essence chimed in with a smile, her eyes twinkling with warmth. "We were just watching these two attempt to build the fire. Your Barracuda over there seems to have developed quite the penchant for pyrotechnics."

Willow felt a warm blush creep to her cheeks. "I called you that on the bus, didn’t I?" she chuckled, recalling her earlier moment of sleepiness

"Yeah," Barb laughed, a hint of amusement in her voice. "You were a bit out of it, but it was cute." She gestured for the purple-haired Troll to join them. "You really need to meet Bruce. He's a Pop Troll who moved here ages ago. We're staying at his place while we’re in town."

Willow nodded enthusiastically, smiling at Bruce. "Thank you for letting us stay with you," she said, rising to her feet to greet him properly. "I apologize for not being awake to meet you earlier. I'm Willow, the ambassador of Pop Village." She extended her hand, eager to establish a friendly connection.

"Don’t worry about it at all," Bruce beamed, shaking her hand with a firm, friendly grip. "Any friend of Trollex is absolutely a friend of mine." He then pulled a surprisingly large bag of marshmallows out of his cascading purple hair. "I was just about to roast some marshmallows. Would you like to join me?"

Willow looked at the marshmallows with a brow slightly furrowed in confusion. "Are they anything like marshtatoes?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.

"Kid, I have no idea what a marshtato is," Bruce replied, perplexed but intrigued. He picked a marshmallow from the bag and offered it to her. "Here, try one. See what you think."

Willow furrowed her brow thoughtfully. "So you left the Troll Tree before we all escaped. We only started discovering marshtatoes after we set up camp." She took a tentative bite of the marshmallow, her eyes lighting up with delight. "It tastes just like a marshtato! Are these grown somewhere?"

"I think someone must make them,” Bruce said, handing her another marshmallow. He then expertly demonstrated how to roast them over the fire without turning them into charred bits. "But don’t ask me how; I have no clue." He then revealed some chocolate and graham crackers, setting the stage for the irresistible treat known as s’mores.

As the hours melted away, the group settled into a rhythm of laughter and storytelling by the fire, enjoying the comfort of shared company while indulging in the delicious s’mores. But Bruce felt a tug of unease as he stole glances at Willow, who was nestled comfortably between the Rock Queen and the Techno King, her laughter ringing clear and bright. She had lived in the Troll Tree before, hadn’t she? Perhaps she knew what had become of his younger brothers and grandmother. And the egg, what became of it? If it was going to hatch, his sibling would be about Willow's age, so surely she knew his youngest sibling.

His heart raced at the possibilities, but as he pondered the questions swirling in his mind, fear crept in alongside the curiosity. What if the answers were grim? Would it be better to remain in blissful ignorance? If he didn’t know, he could conjure a false narrative in his mind—that they were thriving, better off without him, and perfectly happy. So instead of asking, he forced a smile, pulled a ukulele from the depths of his hair, and began to strum a gentle tune, letting the music fill the space between them.

(Bruce)

Isn't this such a beautiful night? Whoa

We're underneath a thousand shining stars

Isn't it nice to find yourself somewhere different? Whoa

Why don't you let yourself just be wherever you are?

Willow beamed as the melody floated through the air, leaning contentedly against Trollex’s sturdy frame. The cool evening breeze whispered around them, and the stars twinkled like scattered diamonds in the deep indigo sky above. Her feet rested comfortably in Barb's lap, a cozy connection amidst the laughter and chatter of their close-knit group. It was a perfect night, filled with warmth, camaraderie, and the sweet essence of friendship, making every moment feel truly special.

(Bruce)

Look at this place , look at your faces

I've never seen you look like this before

Isn't it nice to find yourself somewhere different? Whoa

Why don't you let yourself just be wherever you are?

Look at this place , look at your faces

They're shining like a thousand shining stars

Isn't it nice to find yourself somewhere different? Whoa

Why don't you let yourself just be wherever you are?

Why don't you let yourself just be somewhere different? Whoa

Why don't you let yourself just be whoever you are?

"This was such a good idea," Willow murmured, her voice barely audible against the soft whisper of the ocean waves as she gazed up at the sprawling night sky over Vacay Island. The stars shimmered like scattered diamonds, twinkling mischievously in the deep indigo canvas above. Barb and Trollex nodded in agreement, their faces illuminated by the celestial glow as they too became entranced by the breathtaking display above. The air was warm and filled with the sweet scent of tropical flowers, creating an atmosphere of tranquil bliss. Hours slipped by unnoticed, and when they finally decided to pack in for the night, a sense of palpable excitement lingered in the air, anticipation swirling around them. They all looked forward eagerly to the adventures that awaited them in the days to come, smiling at the shared memories they would create together.

Chapter Text

Trollstopia had blossomed into a vibrant community, a testament to the power of unity among the Tribes. The once-separate clans were now interwoven, friendships spanning across colors and cultures. Willow, her heart swelling with pride, strolled through the bustling streets of TrollsTopia alongside her best friend Poppy. The air was alive with laughter and music, a perfect backdrop for the duo’s mission to ensure everything was running smoothly after their latest royal meeting.

After four months of leading Trollstopia, Willow and Poppy were beaming with accomplishment. "You know what we should do?" Poppy suggested, her eyes lighting up with excitement as they approached her cozy pod adorned with colorful decorations. The Pop Queen’s energy was infectious, causing Willow to flash a curious smile. "We should celebrate."

"What kind of celebration are you dreaming up?" Willow asked, perching herself on the edge of Poppy’s fluffy bed while Poppy animatedly paced the floor, deep in thought.

Poppy’s face broke into a mischievous grin. "I’m thinking of a Holiday Gift Swap! We could send out invitations with everyone’s names, and each Troll would give a gift to the person whose name is on their invite!"

Willow’s eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "I love it! No notes." She jumped up, buzzing with energy. "What do you need from me to make this happen?"

"I need your help gathering a complete list of every Troll," Poppy instructed, her voice filled with determination. “We’ll need every ambassador to assist. This will be the biggest holiday celebration we’ve ever pulled off!”

Willow gave a resolute nod and dashed off to rally the other ambassadors, her heart filled with anticipation. She always enjoyed the lively banter and camaraderie of the group, despite Val and Synth’s playful teasing about her dating their rulers.

Once she rounded up the ambassadors, they eagerly agreed to help compile the expansive list of Trolls from their respective tribes. It turned out to be quite the undertaking, given the sheer number of attendees expected. Even with her own smaller tribe, Willow found it challenging to delve into discussions about why her list was less extensive when other ambassadors inquired.

Three days later, after countless hours spent poring over names and details, the invitations were finally crafted and ready. Poppy beamed with satisfaction as they placed the last decorative touches on the beautiful cards. "This is going to be perfect!" she said, her joy illuminating the space around them.

"How do you plan on distributing these invitations?” Willow queried, stretching her legs after sitting on the floor for so long. She remembered with excitement that her date night was fast approaching, a delightful escape planned for the trio at Vacay Island. "I won’t have time to help with that before I head out."

"Don’t worry, I have it all figured out!" Poppy said with a reassuring wave. "You just go and enjoy your date. Here, take these three invitations with you." Poppy grabbed a few beautifully adorned cards, handing them to Willow. "Two are for Barb and Trollex. But don’t open them until you return home. I want you fully immersed in your date night!"

Willow accepted the invites with a cheerful nod, promising, "I’ll keep mine tucked away in my room so I won’t be tempted to peek." After sharing a warm hug with Poppy, she left the pod, her heart fluttering with excitement as she gathered a small overnight bag. With the bus to Vacay Island set to depart the next day, she intended to be fully prepared for a night of adventure and relaxation.

"Hi, Branch!" Willow exclaimed, her voice echoing off the walls of the bunker as she dashed past her brother, a whirl of energy and excitement.

Branch blinked in surprise, his brow furrowing as he turned to watch his sister sprint toward her room. Curiosity piqued, he slowly approached her still-open door, grinning as he caught sight of her hurriedly packing a bag. "You got caught up in Poppy's latest scheme and totally forgot to pack for the weekend, didn’t you?" he teased.

Willow, shoving her vibrant swimsuit into the bag, shot him a mischievous smile. "Yeah, but it’s all good! I’m really excited to see how Poppy’s plan unfolds later. And hey, it won’t take long to finish packing." She zipped up her bag and paused, her eyes lighting up with an idea. "Oh! Should I pack some cookies for Bruce? He mentioned needing some fresh baked good recipes." Glancing over at Branch, she pondered aloud, "Do you think he’d be willing to pay me if I let him use my recipes in his restaurants?"

"Maybe hold off on that for now," Branch chuckled, shaking his head. "I’m pretty sure your dates with Barb and Trollex will need most of your attention!"

Willow nodded, her grin turning playful as she added some extra clothes into her bag. "You're surprisingly chill about my dating life. Have you warmed up to Barb and Trollex yet?"

"Oh no," Branch replied, grimacing at the thought. "Your dating will always be a bit gross to me." His expression softened, though, and he added, "But if you’re happy with them, then I can handle it. And seeing you smile makes it all worth it."

Willow beamed, setting her bag down to envelop her brother in a warm hug. "I’m really glad you’re happy too, bro." Pulling away, her excitement bubbling over, she continued, "You know, someday I need to bring you along to Vacay Island. Bruce makes some nachos I just know you’ll love, and I bet Poppy would enjoy a vacation there too!"

Branch chuckled sheepishly, a slight blush creeping to his cheeks. "I’m not sure if I’m ready for a vacation with just me and Poppy, but I’ll think about it." The siblings shared a laugh, finishing their day with a hearty lasagna dinner, followed by their nightly routine of hair brushing.

"I’m taking your paperwork," Branch declared playfully as he expertly braided Willow’s hair. "The last thing we need is you falling asleep in the middle of your date, again."

Rolling her eyes, Willow stood up, trailing after her brother into her room as he proceeded to snatch the paperwork she had claimed she’d work on before bed. "You pass out during date night one time—"

"Three times," Branch corrected with an amused grin. He tucked her paperwork into his own hair, shaking his head. "You’ve passed out in the middle of three dates! Lucky for you, your partners are usually laid back."

He sighed, his tone growing more serious as he turned to look at her. "You do so much for TrollsTopia, sis. Everyone appreciates your hard work, especially with you and Bridget planning her wedding in a few months. But you really need to take better care of yourself. Sleep is important."

"I know," Willow admitted with a soft moan, sinking into her thoughts. "But I get so caught up with everything on my plate that sometimes I forget."

"And that's why I’m taking the paperwork," Branch affirmed, his expression softening once more. He grinned knowingly. "It’s easy to neglect taking care of ourselves—trust me, I do it too. That’s why we look out for each other, right? To keep each other grounded." He enveloped his sister in a warm hug before stepping out of her room. "Have a good night, sis."

"Goodnight," Willow murmured, flopping onto her bed with a content sigh. Closing her eyes, a smile danced on her lips as she thought, "I can’t wait to see Barb and Trollex tomorrow."

As the first light of morning filtered through the trees, Willow turned to her friends and waved a cheerful goodbye before boarding the caterbus that was set to take her back to Vacay Island. Her heart raced with excitement as she settled into her seat, eagerly watching the caterbus drive onto the ferry, the water shimmering beneath it as they floated across the waves. When the caterbus finally came to a halt on the island's shore, Willow sprang from her seat, snatching her bag and rushing off, the warm sea breeze tousling her hair.

“Sweet Beat!” Trollex exclaimed, his voice echoing with enthusiasm as he dashed over to her, arms open wide.

Barb followed close behind him, a playful grin plastered on her face. She crossed her arms and looked at the two with a chuckle. “Put her down, Fish Stick. You’re acting like we haven’t just seen her a few days ago!” Her teasing look shifted to Willow as she added with a sly smile, “Hey, Pop Star.”

Willow beamed at the warm welcome. “Hey there, Barracuda! Angel Fish!” she replied, embracing Trollex before he set her down again. With a playful glint in her eye, she rummaged through her hair and produced two colorful envelopes, holding them out for her friends to see. “These are for you! Invitations to a new holiday Poppy’s trying to launch. Just promise me you won’t open them until after our date, okay? I haven’t peeked at mine either, and it’s waiting for me at home.”

Barb’s grin widened as she accepted the envelope with curiosity. “No worries! We’ve got an entire day planned, and it starts with lunch at Bruce's restaurant.” She linked her arm with Willow’s, pulling her close. “Let’s get this party started!”

“Tech-yes, baby!” Trollex chimed in, linking his other arm with Willow’s, his excitement palpable. “Today’s all about surfing! The waves here are some of the most epic I’ve ever encountered.” As they made their way to the bar, where Brandy awaited them with a steaming plate of nachos, laughter and chatter filled the air, a symphony of joy between the three friends.

Date night was a delightful whirlwind that stretched for hours. After their satisfying lunch, they headed to the sun-kissed beach, riding the waves and catching thrills until the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Afterward, a cozy dinner under twinkling stars wrapped up their enchanting day. With her eyes closed and a serene smile on her face, Willow suggested, “Next time, we should go rock climbing. It’s been ages since we did that! Maybe at Volcano Rock City?”

“Absolutely!” Barb agreed, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “I know of a fantastic place for rock climbing, and I’ll even make sure there’s plenty of water for our Fish Stick here.” She shot Trollex a cheeky grin. “And we can get matching tattoos afterward—how cool would that be?”

As the night wore on, Trollex stood, noticing Willow’s eyelids growing heavy. “Let’s make those plans later,” he proposed gently. “I think it’s time for bed.”

Willow sighed, a content smile spreading across her face. “Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.” With her partners beside her, she made her way to the guest room in Bruce’s house. Once they had changed into their cozy pajamas and settled in, Willow found her spot nestled comfortably between Trollex and Barb, feeling enveloped in warmth and safety. As she relaxed against them, her eyelids fluttered, and she drifted off, lulled by the soothing rhythm of their breaths.

However, as all good things do, date night eventually drew to a close. Trollex and Barb embraced Willow tightly, exchanging soft kisses on her cheek before watching her board the caterbus, a bittersweet parting in the air. “We aren’t waiting to read these invitations, right?” Barb called out as they waved goodbye, a mix of anticipation and excitement evident in her voice.

“Absolutely not!” Trollex replied, his eyes sparkling with mischief. He tore open his invitation with glee. “Looks like it’s some sort of gift swap!” Pulling out a slip of paper, he glanced at it and a wide grin spread across his face. “Guess what? I got Willow!”

Barb chuckled softly as she opened her own envelope. “Nice! What do you plan to get her?” Her laughter echoed when Trollex shrugged, looking just as puzzled as she felt. Then, her gaze shifted back to her piece of paper. “Who’s Mr. Dinkles?” Both royals exchanged curious glances, their intrigue piqued. “Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

When Willow finally made it back to the bunker after a long day, she tossed her bag haphazardly onto her unmade bed and wandered through the dimly lit hallways in search of her brother. “Branch! Are you in here? I’m home!” she called out. Silence replied, and she shrugged, her shoulders relaxing. “Maybe he’s hanging out with Poppy,” she mused. With a slight frown of disappointment, she turned and headed back to her room.

Once inside, she plopped down on her bed, its quilted cover feeling comforting beneath her. She decided to take a break from the day’s chaos and check on her gift swap assignment. She grabbed the colorful envelope from her side table and carefully pulled out the slip of paper inside. As she read the name written in neat, cursive handwriting, her eyes widened in disbelief. “I got Barb?” she exclaimed, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and anxiety. She furrowed her brows, a wave of uncertainty washing over her. “But what can I possibly give her?”

Just as she was grappling with the dilemma, the soft whirring of the elevator broke the silence, signaling Branch's arrival. A few moments later, he hobbled into the kitchen, looking particularly frazzled. “Hey, Branch,” she greeted with a bright smile that quickly faded into concern as she took in the troubled expression on his face. “You okay?”

“I got Poppy,” Branch admitted, his voice tinged with stress. He clutched the invitation tightly in one hand, as if it were a lifeline. “The best gift-giver in the village—and my girlfriend.” He glanced around the kitchen, taking note of the multitude of treats scattered over the counter. “You’re stress baking,” he observed, a hint of amusement creeping into his voice despite his own worries.

“Yep!” Willow beamed as she pulled a tray of warm brownies out of the oven, their rich chocolate aroma filling the air. “I get why you’re feeling the pressure with Poppy. She’s amazing! But I got Barb, and I’m completely at a loss. I thought that maybe while I baked, inspiration would strike, but nope! I have nothing. What do you get for someone who’s already one of the most incredible people in your life? She’s not into material things, and it’s not like I can build her anything fancy. I could bake her something, but that feels like cheating! Yet… it’s the only thing I’m really good at!”

Taking a deep breath to steady her swirling thoughts, she turned her gaze toward Branch, her brother who always managed to ground her. “I’m sorry to unload on you. You came in here stressed about Poppy, not to listen to me ramble. Do you have any ideas?”

Branch hesitated, processing her words with care. “I think I’ll be alright. But you know, it doesn’t have to be something big. Barb really cares about you, so she’s going to appreciate whatever you choose, no matter the size.”

“But it has to come from the heart!” Willow insisted, her voice rising with urgency. “This is the first gift-giving in our relationship, and it has to be perfect!” She let out a frustrated sigh, anxiety prickling at her thoughts. “What if I let her down?”

“Yeah,” Branch muttered under his breath, a shadow crossing his face. “This is too important to be left to chance.” He felt the weight of his own responsibilities for Poppy’s gift pressing down on him. What if he messed up this first special occasion? He looked sympathetically at Willow, who seemed even more distressed than before. “Sorry, but I need to go figure this out for Poppy. Are you going to be okay here?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” Willow waved her hand dismissively, her eyes drifting to the pile of colorful cupcakes sitting invitingly on the table. “No offense, bro, but I don’t think you could help me any more than I could help you right now. We’d just end up getting in each other’s way.” She grabbed a basket and began filling it with the frosted cupcakes, their cheerful colors teasing a hint of inspiration. “Maybe I’ll find some ideas around the village,” she said, hoping that a change of scenery would spark her creativity.

Hours later, as the sunlight began to fade outside her window, Willow felt a heavy weight on her chest. Baking was the last thing she wanted to do, but it had become evident that it was her only option if she wanted to create something special for Barb. After much internal debate, she finally narrowed her choices down to a handful of decadent desserts. There were mini salted dark chocolate tarts, rich dark chocolate bourbon balls, luscious dark chocolate raspberry fudge, and fluffy dark chocolate cupcakes.

She surveyed the array of treats she had lovingly crafted, but a groan of frustration escaped her lips. "None of these are right!" she exclaimed, letting her head fall into her hands at the kitchen table, the once-inviting aroma of chocolate now feeling overwhelming. "What am I going to do?"

Just then, Willow heard a familiar voice filter through her thoughts. "Sweet Beat?" The gentle yet vibrant resonance of Trollex made her ears perk up. "Branch let me down, are you in here?" The sound of his entrance filled the kitchen, and he let out an impressed whistle as he took in the sight before him. "Wow, that is a lot of chocolate. You okay?"

"Not really," she muttered, her voice muffled by her hands. Trollex, sensing her distress, enveloped her in a warm embrace, his arms comforting her as she leaned into him. "I’ve been stressing about what to get Barb. I thought I could bake her something since Rock Trolls really love dark chocolate, but nothing here screams 'Barb' to me, you know?"

Trollex pondered for a moment before responding. "Wanna know what I think?" he asked thoughtfully. "I think you’re putting too much pressure on yourself. You love baking, and you’ve made so many treats that I’m sure Barb will adore. Why not take these desserts and create a lovely assortment to present to her?"

"You really think that’ll work?" Willow looked up at him, uncertainty shimmering in her eyes. "I just want this to go well."

He flashed a reassuring grin, his expression filled with sincerity. "You love her, right?" At her nod, he continued, "And you know she loves you. She’s going to appreciate your effort—whatever you give her."

A smile began to break through Willow’s frown. "Thanks, Angel Fish. You always know just what to say." With new determination, she pulled out a gift box and started filling it with an assortment of her dark chocolate creations, carefully arranging them side by side.

They made their way to the elevator, leaving the cozy confines of the bunker behind. Trollex beamed as he turned to her, "Well, I’m off to finish wrapping my present. I’ll see you later, alright? Love you."

Willow grinned and pressed a gentle kiss on Trollex's cheek. "Love you too. I’ll see you later." As she began walking towards the village with her gift in tow, an unexpected explosion echoed behind her, startling her into a pause. She glanced back and saw a gaping hole in the ground that led down into the bunker. Peering over the edge, she caught sight of the Funk princes, Cooper and Darnell, looking up with wide eyes. With a friendly wave, she turned back to Trollex, who shrugged as if to say he was just as puzzled. "I feel like I'm missing something."

"You wanna go check it out?" Trollex suggested, glancing at her with curiosity. "I’m pretty sure we have time."

"Nah," Willow shook her head decisively. "I don’t think it’s anything I can help Branch with. He was really stressing about what to get Poppy, and I doubt he’s in the right mindset to listen to me right now."

As the evening sun dipped below the horizon, marking the start of the Holiday Giftswap, Willow found Barb in the bustling village, handing over her gift to Mr. Dinkles—a whimsical new hat with a string attached to prevent it from getting lost. "Hey, Barracuda," Willow called out, a warm smile spreading across her face as she approached her girlfriend.

"You got me?" Barb’s face lit up with excitement, and she eagerly took the box Willow offered. "Awesome!" As she pulled the lid off and gazed at the carefully constructed assortment inside, her eyes sparkled with delight. "You made me stuff?"

Willow nodded enthusiastically, pointing out each treat and explaining their names. "I know it’s not much," she admitted, biting her lip nervously. "But I couldn’t think of anything else you might like."

"Are you kidding? This must have taken you hours," Barb exclaimed, popping a dark chocolate bourbon ball into her mouth and savoring the taste. "And they taste fantastic. Thank you!" She glanced over at Trollex, who was standing a few paces away, and waved him over. "Looks like someone has something they want to give you."

Willow turned to Trollex with an expectant smile. "You got me?"

"Yeah," Trollex replied, his cheeks flushing slightly as he grinned sheepishly. "It was so hard not telling you earlier. You have no idea." He pulled a small, intricately wrapped box from his hair and handed it to her, a mix of excitement and nervousness dancing in his eyes. "I hope you like it."

With trembling fingers, Willow opened the box to reveal a stunning necklace. The centerpiece was a beautiful little red stone, elegantly wrapped in delicate wire to secure it to the chain. "It’s so pretty," she breathed, looking up at Trollex, her heart swelling with gratitude. "Thank you." She instinctively held it out to him, wanting his help in putting it on.

"It’s also magic," he said with a proud grin as he secured the clasp around her neck. "Now you’ll be able to breathe underwater, no matter what kind of water it is." Given the number of times she had tumbled off her surfboard, he knew it would bring peace of mind for both him and Barb, knowing she wouldn't have to worry about drowning.

"This is amazing," Willow exclaimed, her eyes wide with delight as she hugged Trollex tightly. "I love it!"

Willow looked up when she heard Branch and Poppy speak over each other. "Who did you get?"

Branch grinned. "I'll tell you if you tell me," he offered.

"Both of us at the same time?" Poppy asked. Branch nodded. "One, two, three." The duo held out each other's names. "You." Poppy blinked and looked at her present nervous. "Okay, um..do you wanna go first?"

"Well," Branch started. "I made you this really, really cool thing. But it exploded and blew me into a tree." Willow winced. Maybe she should have gone to check on her brother. "I may have overdone it a bit." He sighed and pulled a book out of his hair. "Anyway, this is all I could scrape together." He held it out for her to take. "Here."

He made her a scrapbook! Willow could scream with the joy she was feeling. Her brother didn't scrapbook for anything and he made something he thought Poppy would like. She smiled at how touched Poppy was.

When it was time for Poppy to give Branch her present, the box opened to reveal .. nothing. Poppy admitted she was struggling to think of what to get him and she couldn't come up with a single thing.

Willow beamed as she wrapped her arms around Barb in a warm embrace, a sense of relief washing over her. "I was struggling just like that too," she confessed, her eyes sparkling with understanding. Meanwhile, Branch animatedly shared with Poppy that his favorite part of the holidays was the time they spent together, the joy evident in his voice.  

Barb let out a gentle chuckle, squeezing Willow tighter. "You could have chosen anything for me, and I would have cherished it, Popstar," she replied, her tone affectionate and playful, reinforcing the bond they shared.

Willow nodded and watched as Poppy hugged her brother before grinning. "Somebody uk me," Poppy said before a ukelele was tossed into her open hand. She pulled away from Branch and started playing.

(Poppy)

You always wanted to be hiding

Like no one wants you around

Hold your head a little higher

It's pretty simple

I'm in luck, I'm in luck, I'm in luck

'Cause we're together now

Never stop looking up , if it's love don't even mess around

Together now

Barb enveloped Willow in a warm embrace, pulling her close as she planted a gentle kiss on her cheek. "Best. Holiday. Ever," she exclaimed, a beaming smile lighting up her face. "Love you, Popstar."

"Love you too, Barracuda," Willow replied, her eyes sparkling with joy. She returned the gesture with a soft kiss on Barb's cheek, both of them radiating happiness in that perfect moment.

(Branch)

I said I didn't wanna light up (Light up)

So I turn the radio down

Maybe I was in denial (Yeah)

But I've changed a little

(Poppy & Branch)

I'm in luck, I'm in luck, I'm in luck

'Cause we're together now (Together now)

Looking up, looking up, looking up

Don't need to look around

'Cause I know

I'm in luck, I'm in luck, I'm in luck

'Cause we're together now

I'm in luck, I'm in luck, I'm in luck

'Cause we're together now

(King Trollex)

'Cause we're together now, 'cause we're together now

Willow beamed, her face lighting up with joy as Trollex enveloped her in yet another warm, reassuring hug. "Love you, Sweet Beat," he murmured, his voice filled with affection. With a playful glint in her eyes, Willow leaned in and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, feeling the warmth of his presence. Trollex smiled back, his eyes sparkling, before gently setting her down to continue lost in the rhythm of the dance floor.

(Tiny Diamond)

Go together better than a snowflake on a sweater

Or a tiny diamond funk on my daddy's favorite record

Now my journey's finally over (Wow), I just wanna settle down

Through rain and stormy weather, we'll always be together now

(Prince D)

It feels so good to see you again, you know?

Ha, come here

Willow joined Holly Darlin' and Val as they danced to the song Poppy and Branch were singing.

(Poppy and Branch)

Together now

The bad days are over

'Cause we come together

The bad days are over

'Cause we don't stop

(Poppy)

Looking up, looking up, looking up

Don't need to look around

'Cause I know

I'm in luck, I'm in luck, I'm in luck

'Cause we're together now

Together now, now, now (Yeah)

Together now (Yeah), now (Yeah), now

Together now

(Poppy & Branch)

The bad days are over

'Cause we come together

The bad days are over

'Cause we come together now

As the final notes of the song lingered in the air, Willow glanced over at her brother and Poppy, who were animatedly discussing their dream of taking a balloon ride over the enchanting Troll kingdoms, the delicate flakes of snow swirling gently around them like tiny fairies. The scene felt magical, a perfect holiday moment framed by the soft winter landscape.

"So, what do you want to do now?" Barb asked, her voice breaking into Willow's reverie as she and Trollex approached.

Willow shrugged lightly, a thoughtful expression crossing her face. "I still have a lot of leftover desserts in the bunker," she suggested, her eyes brightening at the idea. "We could head there for a sweet treat and sip on some hot chocolate. I could even whip up some popcorn so that we’re not just indulging in all the sweets."

"That sounds great, Sweet Beat!" Trollex replied, a big grin spreading across his face as they began their trek towards the bunker. The thought of comforting treats and warm drinks in the midst of the chilly weather added to the warmth in Willow's heart.

Willow couldn't help but smile back, feeling a surge of happiness. Barb was right; this was shaping up to be the best holiday ever. With a jubilant spirit, she wrapped her arms around her friends' shoulders, pulling them close as they made their way through the snow towards her and Branch’s cozy little bunker, filled with treats and laughter waiting to unfold.

Chapter Text

"

" The sky was the limit, now the stars where we're livin'. It's the vibe when we're in it, it'll blow your mind, " Willow sang softly, her voice mingling with the warm, crackling sound of the old record spinning on the turntable. She was surrounded by a flurry of papers, each one filled with the last-minute details of the day . Dressed in a whimsical purple butterfly dress that fluttered gently as she moved, she glanced up from her work, momentarily lost in the music.