A/N: What's up, everybody? So, yeah, this is a quick update. That's because I still have the inspiration, so hooray for that! I know I said that this would be a twoshot, but it just keeps growing. As of right now I have the second chapter (this one) finished as well as two others planned/outlined. This chapter will follow Branch the whole time. I've tried my best to get his voice right, so let me know if he seems OOC! I may or may not have a scene from Poppy's POV in the next chapter; it just depends on whether or not I can fit it into the story line. Also, this chapter is shorter than the last one. Sorry about that. For now, enjoy the second part of Dreams In Color!

As always, comments, questions, reviews, and helpful criticism are highly appreciated.


Apparently, Chef didn't care whether or not her "souvenir" was injured; in fact, by the way she was swinging the cage, Branch could almost swear she wanted him to get hurt. That was a cheerful thought.

Branch had given up on trying to stand about four hallways ago and was now concentrating on not breaking anything. Another cheerful thought. Poppy would've had something uplifting to say to him, to get his spirits up… His heart clenched painfully at the thought and Branch forced it away.

Not the priority right now, he scolded himself as he slid across the slippery metal floor of the cage. He grabbed the bars and jerked himself to a mostly painless stop. Branch gritted his teeth and held on as the cage swung around with Chef's movements. He wasn't quite sure where they were headed, but he knew he didn't want to go.

Finally, Chef stopped moving. Branch let go of the bars and tried to get to his feet. He nearly toppled over from the dizziness and sat down heavily. As his head cleared, Branch realized that Chef was speaking. He shook himself and pricked his ears, listening hard.

"-important. I must see the king at once!" Chef was saying. Branch frowned. Who was she talking to?

"Yes, Chef," a voice responded meekly.

"Right away, Chef!" a second voice said, stronger than the other but still respectful. There was a loud creaking sound, like the opening of a giant door. Branch recognized the voices as that of Chad and Todd, the two Bergen guards that had been in the Throne Room before when he and Poppy had first found the Snack Pack. The door must be the one to the Throne Room, Branch thought. He listened carefully as Chef walked forward and heard a slight echo that indicated his hunch had been correct. The Throne Room had been big and fairly empty; Branch remembered that every little noise was amplified and echoed in the vast hall.

"Your Majesty," Chef sang out. Branch toppled over once more with a grunt when Chef bowed; he rolled his eyes at the over-the-top performance. He was more prepared for it when the prison was righted once more, but he still tumbled to the floor. Again. Fuming and muttering to himself, Branch got to his feet (for the hundredth time, he was sure) and brushed himself off.

"Chef? What are you doing here still? I thought you said you were going to find the rest of the Trolls," King Gristle said.

"Oh, I am, Sire," Chef assured. If she bows again, I swear… Branch thought, glaring in the direction her voice had come from. He wasn't sure what he'd do, but it wouldn't be pretty. "But I'm afraid I've run into a little problem."

"A problem? What do you mean?" The king sounded more annoyed than worried. He gasped suddenly. "Did the Trolls escape?" he asked urgently, sounding concerned.

"No, no, nothing like that, Sire," Chef soothed. "I was just preparing to leave when I recalled seeing something interesting. Specifically," she tore away the handkerchief and Branch flinched, covering his watering eyes against the harsh light.

"What's wrong?" Gristle asked curiously. His voice was much closer than before and Branch jumped. He hadn't heard the king approach. "I don't see anything wrong…"

"Look closely, Sire," Chef said, holding the cage out. Branch squinted, his eyes still teary, and saw Gristle's face just inches from his own.

"Hmm… I don't see anything."

"His coloring," Chef said, annoyance creeping into her tone. Branch held in a snort.

"Oh. Oh! Yes, I get it! He's not colorful!" Branch finally opened his eyes and watched, squinting, as Gristle turned to Chef. She nodded in confirmation. "Why not?" Gristle asked, reaching a finger out to Branch.

Don't you dare, Branch thought as he backed away, baring his teeth. Gristle didn't stop or draw back his finger, so Branch was forced to take drastic measures.

"Ow!" The king squealed, jumping back and bringing his finger to his face. "He… He bit me!" Branch spat on the floor, grimacing. Bergens tasted as good as they smelled, and they didn't smell as nice as Poppy did, that's for sure.

"Show some respect!" Chef snarled, shaking Branch's cage violently. Branch was thrown around inside, hitting the bars painfully. He curled up and put his hands over his head, squeezing his eyes shut.

This is it, he thought. This is how I die. Totally worth it. Wish I could say goodbye to Poppy…

"Wait!" Gristle's voice rang out and Chef stopped, though it was probably more out of surprise than anything else. Branch opened one of his eyes cautiously, trying not to hurl. If it was gonna happen, he wanted to be able to aim.

"Sire?" Chef asked, staring at the king. "I had planned on giving him to you as a souvenir, to remember this day by," Chef explained as Branch sat up, bristling. Neither Bergen noticed him. "But I cannot have such a dangerous creature-"

"'Dangerous'?" Gristle repeated incredulously. "All he did was bite me. Look at him; how is he dangerous? He's no threat to any of us. In fact, I think he's kind of funny." Branch stared at the grinning king, completely floored. He was slightly tempted to see if his hair would reach far enough to strangle the Bergen, but he highly doubted it.

"Why is he not colorful?" Gristle asked Chef. She blinked at him and moved her lips soundlessly. The king frowned and snapped his fingers impatiently. Chef jumped before looking back down at Branch. If he had been less mature than he was, Branch would have stuck his tongue out at her. He didn't, of course. He wasn't a child.

"Ah, yes. That is the problem I told you about earlier. You see, when Trolls become unhappy, they lose their colors. They become gray."

Branch crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. Here she was, spouting this off, acting all high and mighty as if she hadn't just asked that no good, turncoat, slimy son of a beetle, Creek.

"What?!" the king exclaimed, scowling. He seemed pretty prone to dramatic mood changes, in Branch's opinion. "I can't serve my people an unhappy Troll!"

"Which is why I am giving him to you, your majesty," Chef said, back to her cool and collected self. "Well, was. But he did just attack you, after all. Oh well. It was only a suggestion," she sighed, shaking her head sadly and turning away. "I thought that you would like something to help you remember your first Trollstice by. It was a silly idea anyway. I mean, who's ever heard of a pet Troll!" She began to walk towards the giant double doors.

"No, hold on!" Gristle cried. Chef stopped, her back still to the king. Branch saw a sly smile cross her face. "T-that's a g-great idea," Gristle panted, coming to a stop next to Chef. "Not only would I have something to remember this day by, but," Gristle puffed out his chest proudly. "I would be the first ever Bergen in history with their very own Troll!"

Branch debated whether or not he could make himself projectile vomit. His stomach still felt sick from the earlier rough treatment, after all, and the look on Gristle's face would be priceless.

"You would make history!" Chef gushed. The king looked very satisfied with this. Branch tried to judge the distance between the king's face and himself. "Here you are, Sire," Chef said, going down on one knee and presenting Branch's cage to the king with a flourish. Branch was suddenly struck by the image of someone walking in on this scene and only just managed to control his hysterics.

The king bounced in place before roughly grabbing the cage, jostling Branch and making him fall over.

"Now, Sire, I must leave you," Chef said, bowing low. "To find the rest of the Trolls. This Trollstice will go down in history, with you as 'The King Who Brought Back Happiness'!"

Chef turned and strode out. Branch watched her go. A sick feeling was rising in his stomach that had nothing to do with his previous flying lessons.

"This is so exciting!" Gristle squealed as he literally skipped out of a smaller side door. He nearly crashed into Bridget, who was holding a broom in one hand and a vacuum in the other. "Out of the way, maid!" Gristle ordered, walking past her regally, his nose in the air. Bridget nodded automatically, her eyes wide. When she met Branch's gaze, she dropped the broom and let out a surprised squeak. Her eyes grew even bigger. Branch was worried they'd pop out of their sockets.

The king turned a corner and Bridget disappeared from view. Branch let out a frustrated breath. He had wanted to tell her about Poppy, to get her to free the rest of the Trolls. Too late, a voice whispered in Branch's head as the king began climbing up a flight of stairs.

Too late…