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Poppy watched in terror as spotlights lit up pillars around the stage, revealing genre leaders including- she held back a gasp- including her dad. “NO!!” She yelled in protest. Her voice was drowned out, though, in the sea of protests.
Barb ignored them all, playing her guitar. A bolt of lightning hit the Pop King and in moments he was encased in stone. The arena fell silent in fear and hesitation, before glowing cracks appeared in the rock. They spread quickly, before exploding outwards, revealing the king.
His normally orange flocking was grayer than usual, and his hair was darker to match. Compared to the fluffy cloud it had been before, it was sticking straight out from his head. His vest became black leather, lined with spikes. He raised his hand up in the rock kingdom’s handsign and smiled widely. His eyes were engulfed in glowing red. “Forget about the future!” He yelled. “Let’s rock out today!”
All of the rock trolls began cheering while all the other genres fell silent from fear.
Barb cheered herself on, allowing herself to be clipped onto the flying rig, which took off with a buzzing noise. Below her, the crowd’s volume swelled to the point where she had to turn up the volume of the guitar to be heard. She struck the other genre leaders with the Ultimate Power Chord and smiled and she landed on stage with a final guitar flourish.
“Rock on!” She called out. Her trolls, even the new ones, cheered in reply. She was unclipped from the flying rig, and only then did she realize something was still buzzing.
Riff spoke up from behind her. “Uh, your majest-”
Before Barb could fully turn around to face him, she was tackled by a flying blur of pink. There was a growl in her ear before the threat was being pulled back by the rock-zombied genre leaders.
The attacker was none other than Princess Pink herself. Barb glanced up at the cage she had been in to find it looking like someone had taken a drill to the side of it. Her attention snapped back down to where the Popsqueak used her hair to grab onto Trollzart and fling him into Trollex as they both approached. She jumped over the country trolling and shifted her attention back to Barb.
“LET MY DAD GO!” She demanded with another growl. She dropped onto all fours and lunged, only to be met with a new figure standing between her and the rock queen. King Peppy. The very troll she was trying to free. She stopped short before she tackled him. Ears and tails straight out in warning. “Dad!” She warned. “I’m trying to save you!”
He just held up the rock symbol again. “Rock on!”
Barb grinned, even as she took a step back and away from the threat. “You tell her!” She called out mockingly. “Tell her everything you’ve been too scared to!” The old man had seemed nervous and confused the whole time. With how headstrong she was, Barb could imagine his daughter walking all over him. After all, he seemed healthy, but she was already Queen? If he got in her way the second he was a rock troll? She wanted this guy to say something dramatic- maybe something like ‘You’re a bad queen.’
“You had an older sister,” Peppy said easily. Poppy froze. “She was killed when you were a baby because I was too scared to rush the escape.”
The arena fell silent, Barb included.
“...what?” Poppy asked, quietly. “Dad, what-” She cut herself off, looking at him in surprise and slight fear.
“Woah, woah,” Barb cut in skeptically. “Escape from what?”
“The bergens,” Peppy said without thinking. He turned to the rock queen, and for the first time she felt the red eyes were terrifying. He smiled at her. “They’d eat us to feel happy. They made a celebration of it- called it Trollstice. They caged our tree, killed our families.”
Across the audience, all other genres turned to look at the Pop trolls, who just watched their leaders nervously. Some clutched their trollings, who were few in number. Many of the other genres realized only then how few Pop trolls there were in total.
Barb’s grip on the guitar slowly loosened in shock. “Wha- for how long?!” She demanded, eyes wide and ears pinned back in fear.
“We don’t know any more,” he readily continued in the silence. He didn’t seem to notice or care about others around him, only looking at Barb with a smile on his face. “They destroyed our records. We only escaped 21 years ago.”
Barb tensed. “Stop being so happy and casual about this!” She demanded, eyes narrowing in fear. “Say how you really feel for once!”
“I’m terrified,” he admitted. Behind him, Poppy’s face fell as she approached tears. She hesitantly reached out to grab his hand, but faltered before she made it. “I’m afraid that if I hesitate, I’ll lose Poppy too. She wasn’t supposed to hatch.” Behind him, Poppy’s face paled and she stepped back a half step. “They were going to kill her. She was only a month old, but they wanted to feed her to their prince. Because of that, I feared they were keeping a closer eye on us. I waited a little bit longer until we ran. I lost mi Viva because of that. I’m scared. I just want to protect her.”
In the back of her mind, Barb realized that Riff had lifted his beanie and was looking at them in sadness.
“Dad…” Poppy said, quietly. “I don’t-” She faltered, but he didn’t acknowledge her.
Barb narrowed her eyes. “Why didn’t you react to the rest of it?!” She demanded. “He’s saying your people were livestock!”
“He’s just doing exactly what you tell him to. Telling the truth.” She said, her sad expression shifting into a glare. “Didn’t you know what he was going to say?” Poppy growled, her posture growing tense once again. Her gaze was pointed as her tail flicked back and forth.
“No!” Barb said quickly. King Peppy shifted slightly to put himself between the two queens. The Pop Queen faltered, her ears flicking upwards. “I may hate your music, but I wouldn’t have-!”
Her face morphed in anger again. “What?” Poppy growled, stalking closer. Her dad got in her way, but she just looked over his shoulder. “Wouldn’t have taken away our joy? Our hope? The very thing that we fought to keep for generations even as our people were killed around us?” She gestured at her dad, who was vaguely scowling into space. “Let. Him. Go.”
Barb stepped back, a glare morphing onto her face even as her tail stuck straight out. “No. I’m uniting us all under rock.” She lifted her guitar, pointing it towards Poppy, who glared at her. “Everything will be okay once we’re all the same.”
A new voice interrupted them. “But we’re not the same!” Both queens looked up to find a hot air balloon drifting downwards, Branch standing on the side of the basket. “But that doesn’t mean we have to change who we are to get along!” (Down on the stage, Poppy felt her heart melting in her chest in relief.) “Poppy’s never been afraid to acknowledge differences and what they bring to the table! She doesn’t care that I’m no fun, because I care about safety planning, which keeps everyone alive to have fun!”
One of the bounty hunters leaned out of the basket to make eye contact with him. “Really hyping yourself up, huh?” Branch ignored him.
“She believes in everyone, even when everyone tells her to give up,” he said. “I would still be gray if not for her.”
A sniffle interrupted the heavy silence that hung in the air after his announcement. “That’s, like, the most metal thing out there,” one of the stage hands said, wiping a tear from his eye. Barb turned to look at him in shock and the guy faltered. “I mean, admitting your own mistakes? Out loud for everyone to hear? I didn’t think Pop Trolls knew how to do that.”
“And, I guess,” Riff piped up hesitantly. “It wouldn’t be very rocking if everyone was a lead singer and there were no bassists or whatever.”
All across the audience, trolls began mumbling to each other nervously, even the rock trolls.
“I don’t have the context to put meaning to every difference,” Poppy stated, firmly. “And I’m sorry.” In the audience, Cooper and Prince D glanced at each other. “But I know my dad is different because he fought to keep happiness alive. He freed us from the bergens, led us out of the Troll Tree, and spent years helping rebuild the village in our new grove. He’d give trollings the cape off his own back if they’re cold. I don’t care if he didn’t tell me about my sister, he’s still the king who saved us all.” She gestured in front of her where the zombie version of her dad was standing still. “This? This is not that man.” She glared. “Let. Him. Go.”
Barb glanced at all of her people, who were looking at her expectantly. She looked at the rock zombies, who were standing and staring listlessly without direction. She glanced at the wings where her own dad had fallen asleep in his chair. He had been having trouble staying awake recently. He kept saying that he just wanted her to be okay when he’s gone. Especially with the rock look, King Peppy reminded her a lot of her own dad. She mumbled something under her breath, her ears and tail lowering to the ground.
“What was that, your royal rockness?” Riff asked curiously.
“I don’t know how to fix this!” Barb burst out, glaring. Her body puffed up, eyes narrowing to thin slits. She turned to glare at Poppy. “So, I’m sorry, but it seems like your dad will be a rock zombie forever.”
Somehow, she was surprised by the impact of hair hitting her chest so hard she went flying. She gasped as she laid on her back, trying to regain the breath that had been knocked out of her when the weight on her chest lessened and she was able to breathe again.
Only when she looked down did she realize why.
The guitar had broken and all of the genre strings were dissolving. With them, they were taking all of the color in the world.
She looked up at the middle of the stage, where the genre leaders were back to normal, all looking at King Peppy, who was looking at his daughter. He looked horrified and paralyzed, and she looked the same, though her gaze was shifted towards Barb.
“I’m sorry!” Poppy said quickly. The sound echoed in a world without music. “I just- I just lashed out! I didn’t mean to break the guitar!” Her eyes darted over to her father’s. “I’m sorry, Dad- I didn’t-”
He stepped forwards and she tensed, but he only reached up to place a gentle hand on her cheek. “I’m so sorry, mi princesa.”
The two of them collapsed into a hug.
Cooper restarted the music, and soon a rainbow washed over the world and color was returned.
Peppy found Poppy backstage after it all, talking quietly to Branch. The boy seemed like he wanted to say more, but he easily invited the old king over when he saw him.
“Oh, don’t stop on my account-” He tried to say, but Branch just waved him off.
“I have to go check in with the Snackpack,” he said. “And…” He glanced over at Poppy, who was avoiding eye contact and rubbing her hand up and down her arm. “I think you two should talk.”
He walked away, leaving them to stare at each other.
“I’m sorry-” They both said in unison, before pausing.
Poppy looked up at him in confusion. “I’m sorry,” she repeated. “I couldn’t protect you. I left you all to go chasing a fantasy.” She spoke the last word with scorn.
“No, mi princesa,” Peppy said, approaching sadly. “You were right. I was acting out of fear and I wasn’t thinking.” He reached for her hand, slowly pulling it off of her arm. “I’m so proud of you- you had the courage to believe in others when I didn’t think it was even possible. You’ve been an amazing Queen even in the short amount of time you’ve had. You’ve changed the world for the better, even if you can’t see it right now.” He lifted his hand to gently brush away a tear from her face. “I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t turn to me for help. I’m sorry I made you feel like you had to be the one taking care of me.”
“But…” She began uncertainly. “But, I’m the Queen.”
“You’re a troll,” he reminded her. “And I’m your father. I was king for many years- I of all people should have been a supportive voice for you.”
She sniffled, avoiding eye contact. “What- what about my sister?” She may have said she didn’t care, but something in the back of her mind was stuck on the fact that she was never told about her.
He faltered. “I-” His grip tightened unconsciously. “She would have been the perfect support for you,” he told her, gaze growing distant. “She loved you so much, but she was just as headstrong as you are. When we escaped, she insisted on rounding out the back of the line to help anyone who fell behind.”
Poppy shifted uncomfortably, looking over at him. “I thought- no troll left behind?” She asked hesitantly.
He winced. “I know. I failed and I was too entombed in my grief to admit it. I’m sorry.”
She shifted forwards, and he found himself engulfed in a hug. Slowly, he hugged her back. He laughed lightly. “Look at how tall you are,” he noted. “You’ve outgrown me.”
She tightened her grip for a moment. “...yeah. But I don’t think I’ll ever be too big for a hug from my dad.”
He faltered, before hugging her tighter. “No. Never.”