Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Ah, sugar.” Poppy muttered, wiggling desperately within the restraints of the string cocoon she was trapped in. The spiders approached fast, claws skittering across the forest floor and large, glittery black eyes honed in on her.

Just before Poppy closed her eyes and accepted her fate, a loud cry echoed from the surrounding trees. A small figure, smaller than any new creature she’d seen so far on her journey, leapt out at the leading spider and began clawing at its eyes.

The creature made quick, bloody work of the first spider’s face and dropped to the ground before it could rear back to bat it off. From her perspective, the only characteristics that Poppy could really see of it were that it was small, oddly dull, and had a large, messy mound of black fur at the top of its head.

As the leading spider shrieked and retreated from the scene, the dull creature turned to the other two and began to make odd snarling noises and wave its paws around above its head. Poppy gasped as its hair moved to form a large, waving halo around its head. She’d never seen a non-troll be able to use their hair in the same way that trolls did! Was this… was this weird, dull creature actually a troll?

The spiders retreated backwards into a cave entrance, which turned out to actually be a giant mouth that closed up as soon as they were inside. Poppy let out a small eep. Man, she really was not prepared for all of the certain-death creatures outside the village.

The dull creature turned and scampered towards her.

“Uh- I- Thanks for getting rid of those spiders! Haha, um, please don’t eat me? I’m covered in spider silk and it probably doesn’t taste good- Um. Actually some just fell in my mouth so I know it doesn't?” Poppy babbled nervously. The creature didn’t stop in its approach.

“Um, rahh!” Poppy yelled, wiggling around. Maybe she could scare it off!

“Calm down,” Said the creature, sounding thoroughly unimpressed. Poppy choked on her surprise.

“You’re a troll!” She exclaimed once she’d recovered. “Oh, thank music, I could use a friend right now!”

The dull troll scoffed, tearing a sharp spine off of a nearby plant and cutting open her string prison.

“Woohoo!” Poppy sprang up, dusting herself off. For the first time, she managed a good look at her savior.

The first thing she noticed, same as before, was his dull… well, everything. His fur and eyes were a greyish teal, and his nose was a deeper shade of grey-lavender. His unusually short hair and the tuft of his unusually long tail were both somewhat unkempt and pitch black. He wore a green leaf vest and a pair of incredibly worn, patchworked brown shorts. As he went to cross his arms, Poppy noted that his sharp claws seemed permanently unsheathed.

“So, what’s your name?” She asked, opening her arms for a hug, as was customary in troll introductions. The troll leaned away, looking supremely uncomfortable.

“Yeah, no. I don’t do… hugs.” He spat out the last word like it left a bad taste in his mouth. Poppy dropped her arms. Was he…

“Wait, are you a troll?” She asked, which only seemed to make him more uncomfortable. He glared at her.

“Why are you out here?” He demanded. Poppy pouted playfully, mirroring his crossed arms.

“I could ask you the same thing!” She replied. Somehow, his glare intensified.

“Okay! Okay, I’m on an epic mission to save my friends from getting eaten by Bergens!” Poppy explained proudly, pulling her scrapbook out of her hair to show off the pages she’d devoted to celebrating her future win. The other troll’s expression dropped into one of exasperated bewilderment as he stared at her scrapbook.

“You can’t be serious.” He deadpanned. Poppy grinned brightly at him.

“Ancients.” He muttered. “You do know this is literally a suicide mission, right? Your friends are probably being digested right now, and you’re practically serving yourself to the Bergens as dessert.”

Poppy frowned. “No, I know they’re alive, I can feel it!”

The other troll scoffed again. “Yeah, okay.”

Poppy pouted as he turned away and stowed the plant spine into his hair.

“Hey, you never told me your name!” She called out, grinning when he turned back around. “I’m Princess Poppy!”

“I know who you are.” He said, then paused. “I’m Branch.”

Poppy cocked her head to the side. “Wait, are you part of the village? I’ve never seen you before, sorry about that! I thought I knew everyone, but-”

“What?” Branch cut her off. “No.”

“How do you know who I am, then?” Poppy asked.

“...I live around the village,” He answered, which really didn’t explain much. Before Poppy could open her mouth to ask more, Branch spoke again.

“If I don’t come with you, are you gonna keep following me around with more questions?” He asked, irritated. Poppy grinned.

“Probably!” She answered, taking the opportunity. Branch sighed, made a vague, exasperated gesture with his paw, and walked right past her.

“Wait, I thought-”

“Not a good idea for you. Bergen Town’s this way.”

“Hey- ooh, coming!”

Chapter Text

Bergen Town was the dreariest place Poppy had ever seen in her life. Thankfully, making it into the castle wasn’t too hard, though most of the difficulty came from just pushing through the choking, dreary atmosphere that seemed to coat the whole town.

Branch was having a much easier time than her, even with all his complaining and under-his-breath grumbling. Oddly, he already seemed to have a general idea of the layout of the inside of the massive structure.

“How can you get around this place so easily?” Poppy groaned, following him across another empty hallway’s ceiling. Branch shushed her, looking around the hallway and around the corner to make sure nobody was listening in.

“You just have a death wish, I swear to music.” He said through gritted teeth. “And I know my way around because I’ve been in here before.”

Poppy gaped at him. “You what?”

“SHH!” Branch shushed.

“Sorry,” Poppy said, switching to whisper-shouting. “You what?”

Branch glared at her, but strangely there was no heat behind it. “I’ve been in here before. Scoped it out, got out quick. ‘Was a while ago.”

He swung across the corridor by his hair and barely waited for her to follow before setting off along the top of the wall.

“Well then man am I so glad I found you! You’re, like, the perfect guide.” Poppy whisper-shouted happily. Branch said nothing, but his tail flicked once, which was the most emotion she’d seen from him thus far.

They tracked Poppy’s friends down by the chimes and lights of their hug time bracelets, ending up on the chandeliers of the largest dining room Poppy had ever seen. Which made sense, considering the size of the Bergens, but it still made a shiver run down her spine.

Dread pooled in her stomach when the Bergen called ‘Chef’ reached into the cage holding her friends.

“Creek!” Poppy yelled, momentarily forgetting the risks of such an act. Branch pulled her down behind the chandelier wall, his claws digging into her arm.

His grip loosened the moment he noticed her pained grimace.

“Sorry, I just-” He whispered, but Poppy cut him off.

“No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t’ve…”

His lips pressed into a thin line and he nodded, stepping away from her and peeking over the side of the chandelier again. Poppy looked over the edge too and covered her mouth with her paws to suppress another scream at the sight of Creek being shoved into a music-damned taco, of all things.

“Branch, we need to save him!” She whispered after the Chef and the King Bergen were both gone. The other troll looked at her as if she was insane.

“Are you insane?” He hissed. “We just saw him get eaten! He’s being digested as we speak!”

Decidedly not answering, Poppy leapt from the chandelier and dashed through the obstacle course that was the dining room table. She landed in one of the apron bow loops of the scullery maid who was wheeling the cage of trolls out of the room, followed shortly after by Branch. He didn’t say anything, but he did glare at her. Again.

The scullery maid took the cage down several
corridors and staircases to reach her room, which was in the basement of the castle, for some reason. Branch and Poppy leapt off as soon as she stepped inside the room, ducking under a nearby table for cover.

Poppy felt her heart ache for the maid as she placed the cage on a table next to her bed and promptly began to sob over the King Bergen. Branch looked at Poppy with exasperation when she voiced her sympathies, but was unable to say anything before the maid started singing.

It was a sad song, which was fitting considering that, well, the singer was a Bergen, but it still shocked Poppy to her core. Not only was this Bergen capable of feeling love – even if she had objectively terrible taste – but she was also able to sing!

Poppy furrowed her brow in thought, examining the maid as she sang. Was she really a Bergen? She looked like the other Bergens, sure, but maybe she was just a different-but-really-similar-looking-species which could feel happiness and sing!

Or… maybe the Bergens could actually feel happiness and sing all by themselves, but believed that they couldn’t for some reason?

Poppy was very confused. She felt her heart ache again for the maid when a load of dirty dishes fell from the ceiling, followed by a command from Chef (who was the main reason that Poppy was learning how to hate people) to have them all cleaned.

Regardless of her sympathy for the poor scullery maid, Poppy’s priority was first and foremost her friends. As soon as the maid fell into bed, asleep, the pink troll ran out from her hiding place and swung up to the table with the troll cage.

“Poppy!” Her friends cheered, breaking out into celebratory song. She reminded them to be quiet, but joined in on their whisper-singing once they did.

The singing abruptly stopped when Cooper shrieked, “AAH! A MONSTER!”

Everyone shushed him, and he smiled sheepishly.

“Sorry. Aah! A monster!” Cooper whisper-shrieked, pointing at something behind Poppy.

Everyone else whisper-shrieked too, and Poppy whirled around, only to come face-to-face with… a very unimpressed Branch.

“Oh, good, it’s just you!” She greeted, relieved. Branch wordlessly threw his arms up in exasperation as everyone inside the cage immediately stopped (silently) panicking.

“Wait, Poppy, you know this guy?” Guy Diamond asked, looking between the two of them.

“Um, yeah! Guys, this is Branch! Branch, this is Cooper, Guy Diamond, Satin, Chenille, Biggie and Mr. Dinkles, Smidge, and Fuzzbert.” Poppy introduced, pointing to each troll as they were named.

Branch’s ear twitched. “Mhm. Do you have scissors?”

He held out his paw. Poppy rummaged about in her hair. “Probably, why?”

She pulled out a pair of bright teal scissors with a small aha! and placed it in Branch’s open palm. He didn’t answer her, striding forwards and shoving the scissors into the keyhole of the cage’s padlock. The trolls inside scooted away from him the best they could, clearly somewhat uncomfortable with his oddly un-troll-like appearance and demeanor. Branch didn’t react; either he didn’t see them, or he didn’t care. Or both. Actually, it was probably both.

After a moment of fiddling with the lock, Branch pulled it open and handed the scissors back to Poppy, even though they were mangled beyond use. She shoved them back into her hair and ran forwards to open the cage door, eagerly embracing all of her captured friends as they escaped.

“Music, I’m so glad to see you guys again.” The pink troll sighed, squeezing them all tight. A few seconds later, they all managed to pull themselves apart.

“Did you see what they did to Creek?” Guy Diamond asked, horror marring his tone.

“They put him in a taco,” Biggie said, hugging Mr. Dinkles close to his chest. “it was horrible!”

“We need to save him!” Poppy exclaimed. “I didn’t see him get chewed or swallowed, so he could still be alive! We have to try!”

The group of trolls exchanged unsure looks, but the determination in their princess’ gaze seemed to convince them. “Alright!”

“What!?” They all turned to look at Branch. “How are you all so– stupid! We can’t take any chances; we need to get out of here before we get recaptured and eaten alive, just like Creek was!”

Cooper bent his neck down so his head was next to Poppy’s ear.

“Poppy,” He muttered. “Are you sure this guy’s a troll?”

She nodded profusely. Cooper nodded along.

“Are you sure we can’t, uh… let him go or something and do our own thing?”

“Cooper!” Poppy gasped, turning to face him. “Don’t say that! Remember, no troll left behind! That includes Branch, and it includes Creek! We’re gonna get Creek back and all of us are going to get home safely!”

Fuzzbert made one of his indecipherable noises, drawing everyone’s attention. His green hair bent in the direction of the Bergen scullery maid’s bed, where said Bergen was sitting up straight and watching them talk with wide eyes.

For a moment, she and the group of trolls just stared at each other. Then, the trolls shrieked in unison and scattered in different directions, prompting the Bergen to shriek and run around as well. She desperately grabbed at any troll she could see, babbling about how ‘Chef was going to be so mad’ the whole time.

Poppy scampered up the wall to the pink curtain hanging behind the Bergen’s small bed while her back was turned. Branch was baring his teeth at the creature several times larger than he was, claws at the ready, and the Bergen was wielding a large pan against him.

Poppy took a deep breath. “BRIDGET!”

Chapter Text

Poppy took a deep breath. “BRIDGET, STOP!”

The Bergen spun around to face the troll, eyes wide.

“You’re in love with King Gristle!” Poppy said, pointing an accusing finger at the scullery maid, who nervously shifted the pan in her grasp.

“Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bridget replied. Wordlessly, Poppy threw open the pink curtains hanging behind the head of the Bergen’s bed. A rather impressively sized collage consisting almost entirely of King Gristle’s face was taped to the wall behind it.

“Uh… excuse me!” Bridget’s face went purple with embarrassment as she leapt forward to pull the curtains closed again. She looked at Poppy, who had stepped to the side to avoid the Bergen’s sudden movement.

“That’s not mine,” Said Bridget. Poppy pulled back the curtain again, this time just enough to reveal a picture of a Bergen couple with Bridget and the King’s faces cut out and pasted onto the heads. Bridget deflated with a sigh, giving up the argument.

“What does it matter? It’s not like he even knows I’m alive…”

At this, Poppy and the rest of the trolls began to suggest ways to help Bridget get together with the King, while Branch stared in utter shock from his spot on the floor. Surely, this was some trick on the part of the Bergen to get the trolls to drop their guard. Branch scurried behind a large pile of dirty plates, stepping lightly to avoid the clicking of his nails against the tiled floor. He clawed his way up the wall and crept around to near where Poppy had been standing, scoffing as the trolls began to sing. Typical.

Bridget, who had been happily enjoying the smaller creatures’ encouragement and song, caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye and turned to look at him. Her face fell. “Wait, why isn’t this one singing?”

Branch froze under her gaze, ears pressing flat against his head and the fur on his arms rising. Cooper had the brilliant idea to try to encourage him to start singing, and the rest of the trolls quickly followed his lead.

Bridget’s face screwed up, as if she were holding back tears, and she leaned down to his level to look at his face.

“You don’t think this will work!” She said, and damn it, Branch actually felt bad for her. In all honesty, he didn’t know if whatever Poppy and her friends had planned would work or not – but as usual, he wasn’t optimistic about it. He didn’t say that, though.

“No, it’s not that,” The grey troll replied, smoothing out the fur on his arms and stepping away from Bridget’s very close, very large teeth. “I just don’t sing.”

“Branch!” Poppy admonished. Branch blinked.

“No, he’s right!” Bridget cried, glancing between the two of them. “This idea is stupid. King Gristle will never love me!”

She collapsed face-down onto her mattress, sobbing loudly, and the trolls instantly crowded her with comforting words and pats. Branch just stood there, confused and irritated. He hadn’t said anything about the plan being dumb – in fact, he’d gone out of his way to lie and say he didn’t think it would all go terribly wrong! Ancients, he’d just about had enough of this insanity. He just didn’t want to sing. Was that so bad?!

The grey troll pursed his lips and clambered up the pink curtain on Bridget’s wall, sulking over to the sidewalk-view window and staring out at the dullness of Bergen Town.

“Branch, what are you doing?!” Poppy asked, climbing into the window wall divot behind him. “You have to sing!”

“I already told you, I don’t sing.” Branch said through gritted teeth.

“Well, you have to!”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?! Why won’t you sing?!”

Branch’s claws dug tiny scars into the wood of the window frame. “Every single time I’ve sung, something bad has happened.”

He spun around to face Poppy, tail lashing angrily. “Even- even at your dumb party, with those fireworks and glitter cannons! You sang, and the Bergens took your friends. Why- How are you still singing?! Do you even care about what happened?!”

Poppy’s eyes were wide, and for a few seconds, she said nothing. Then:

“You… knew about the party?”

“No, I completely missed the giant sparkling glitter bombs and unbearably loud singing in the middle of the night.” Branch sneered. He threw his paws up in the air, exasperated. “Obviously I knew about the party! Every single living thing in a hundred mile radius heard it!”

“I... Of course I care about what happened,” Poppy changed the subject, uncharacteristically quiet. “It was all my fault. And, well, I don’t see you causing your entire friend group to get captured because you sang! What kind of ‘bad things’ have happened to you?! You don’t have anyone to lose!”

Branch dug his nails into his palm. “I’ve already lost everyone I had, and it was all because of singing.”

He felt the sting and the bleed of his claws in his palm and sighed, all the fight draining out of him.

“Look, Poppy,” Branch said, looking her in the eyes and trying not to flinch at the hurt he found there. “I’m… I’m sorry all this happened. It’s not really your fault, it’s the Bergens’.

“But everyone here is all okay now, okay? Let’s just get out of here, please.” The grey troll pleaded. He didn’t want to talk about Creek, because that would just stir up more feelings, but the implication was there: he was far gone by now. Poppy studied him for a moment.

“Fine, you don’t have to sing.” She decided, like only taking a sprig of the whole olive branch. Bridget and the rest of the trolls, who had been watching them, awkwardly retreated back to the bed and resumed their preparations for ‘Operation Bristle’ (in the words of DJ Suki). Poppy joined them, hopping down from the windowsill and striking up a tune as if nothing had interrupted them in the first place.

Branch, meanwhile, wrapped his bleeding palm with a spare bandage from his hair and sat by the window until it was time to go.