Disclaimer: We don't own Trolls.

Eventually, Creek decided the time was right to try to befriend the princess. If he was going to stay out of trouble with Chef, he needed to make that girl fall for him. He stood watching Poppy and her friends for a moment as the girls had a tea party.

There. That should do the trick. Three months should be more than enough time to mourn the dead. She should be ready for me by now. He took a deep breath and approached the younger trolls. "Here goes nothing." He waved, putting on a happy face, and called, "Hello, girls! What's up?"

Poppy, DJ, and Smidge looked up at him curiously.

"Hi, Creek!" Poppy answered, waving happily. "How's it going!?"

"You know him, Poppy?" Smidge asked.

"Yeah! He used to be friends with Big Brother Branch! Hey!" She looked back at Creek and said, "We were just about to have a tea party! Wanna join us, Creek!? It'll be even more fun with more friends, right!?" She smiled at the other two girls, looking for confirmation.

"Yeah!" Smidge agreed, excited. "The more the merrier, right?"

"Sure! Sounds good to me. Pull up a stool and have a seat!" DJ said, gesturing to the seat next to her with a cool smile. "The tea's almost done!"

Creek grinned and walked over, saying, "Why, thank you. Don't mind if I do."

He sat down to join their fun, trying everything he could to get these three to love him. Being six years older than them, though, he found their company a little too childish. This was going to be a rough mission, he could tell.

Some time later, Creek brought Biggie and Cooper with him to go swimming with the girls. He figured this could help his plan and make spending a lot of time with much younger children more bearable. Poppy said before that she enjoyed the company of many friends. Well, if it's a larger crowd of playmates she wants... He arrived at the lagoon and saw the girls in the water already. Their parents stood on the shore nearby, watching. "Oh, Poppy! DJ Suki! Smidge! Could you three come here a moment!? There are some friends of mine I'd like you all to meet!"

The girls all had life jacket vests on to help them stay afloat. They had been tossing a beach ball around, but they stopped and looked toward Creek, curious. Their parents all looked as well.

"Hi, Creek!" Glad you could make it!" Poppy called, half dog paddling over. Only her hands moved when she tried to swim.

"Hey! Who's your friends, Creek? I've never seen them before," DJ said with a smile as Smidge swam over to join Poppy. DJ, however, stayed put.

"Why, these are my friends, Cooper and Biggie," Creek answered, smiling back, as he gestured to the other two trolls. "I invited them to join us at the lagoon, too." He looked at the girls' parents awkwardly and added, "Uh, I mean, if it's alright with you all!"

The girls' parents all smiled, and Peppy said, "Of course. You kids have fun and stay safe, you hear!?" He waved, and the other girls' parents nodded in agreement.

Creek waved back, smiling at them as well. "Will do, King Peppy! And thank you!"

Poppy climbed out of the water and walked right up to Biggie. She stared at him, curious. Smidge did the same with Cooper.

"Hi! I'm Poppy! Nice to meet you, Biggie!" Poppy said, smiling. "Did you get that name because you're soo big?"

Biggie looked slightly taken aback at this question. From an older troll, he'd call that an insult. From a five-year old? He wasn't sure. "Oh, uh...yes?" he answered.

"I ain't Cooper 'cause I make shoes, though!" Cooper said, thinking of that time when someone had told him a cooper was someone who made something. He was pretty sure they said coopers make shoes...

"Oh, I wasn't worried about that," Smidge said, shaking her head with a polite smile. "I just wanted to know what you are? Did you get adopted by Biggie so he could ride ya? Are you some kind of horse llama or something? Oh, and I'm Smidge, by the way."

Creek covered his mouth with one hand, laughing at that one. Biggie and Cooper blinked. Then they looked at each other and blinked again. Were they like this when they were five?

Cooper looked back at Smidge, shaking his head. "I ain't a llama! I'm a troll!"

Smidge's eyes widened, and she clapped her hands to her head. "Oh, my ga! You are!?"

"Poppy, don't ask someone about their size!" Peppy scolded gently. "It's bad manners, Princess!"

"That goes double for you, young lady! You don't ask someone what species they are, either!" Smidge's mom added, shaking a fist in the air and glaring at her daughter.

Poppy cringed, looking awkward. She turned and called, "Ooh... Uh, right! Sorry, Daddy!"

"Yeah! My bad, Mom!" Smidge called.

Poppy turned to the older trolls, shuffling a foot and clasping her hands behind her back. She looked apologetic and said, "Sorry 'bout that," drawing out the S in sorry. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Y-yeah..." Smidge agreed, looking ashamed.

Cooper smiled. "Aw, that's okay! I always wonder what species I am, too!" He closed his eyes and laughed.

"That's fine. Really," Biggie answered. He leaned over and put a hand to the side of his mouth as he added, "By the way, I'm a giant troll. That's why I'm so big."

DJ finally came over to join everyone, her usual cool-cat smile on her face. "Cool. Nice to meet ya both! I'm DJ Suki. But my friends call me DJ."

"It's nice to meet you three," Biggie said.

Cooper bounced, excited. Yeah!" He looked at DJ and added, "I like your headphones!"

"Thanks. They are pretty rad, aren't they?" she said, adjusting them with a smile.

"Great! So, then, what are we waiting for!?" Poppy said, throwing a fist in the air in excitement. "Let's all go for a swim and play ball!"

The girls both lit up in excitement, and Smidge threw her arms up in the air. "Yeah!" DJ said at the same time Smidge said, "Awright!"

"Okay!" Biggie agreed with a smile.

Cooper jumped and said, "Yeah!"

"Sounds good to me! Last one in is a rotten egg!" Creek said, and he took off for the water.

With the two groups combined, they went from two separate groups of three to one group of six, and Creek felt that he'd taken a step in the right direction in terms of Chef's plans. Now, if only he could figure out how to take a step in the right direction with his own plans.

Before long, Creek headed out to the tower and brought bricks, mortar, some tools...and more safety gear than even Branch thought they needed. He didn't want to use power tools, given that those could be very unsafe, but he did bring what they needed for the job, like mortaring trowels and a second pickax. It was high time they not only fix the holes Branch had, apparently, put in the tower while trying to escape but also build him a fireplace.

"Alright, mate. Tonight, it begins," Creek said, holding up a lantern with little glowing bugs inside. "And I've even brought us some more appropriate lighting for the occasion." He put it down in the middle of the room, then looked around thoughtfully. "Hmm... We may need to study welding next so we can build some torches or something."

Branch thought it was a huge leap forward for Creek to go from "we can't build a fireplace" to "let's learn how to weld," but he didn't have the time to say anything.

Creek shrugged, getting up, and said, "Ah, well, that's a job for another day."

He tossed Branch a backpack that nearly knocked the younger troll off his feet, then went to the window and finished unloading his bug—he grabbed a travel bag and set it down on the floor by the window. He'd loaded up the materials they needed in there, including a battery-operated power drill that he hoped they wouldn't need. It just seemed more dangerous to him than the hand tools.

Branch just stared at Creek for a moment. The purple troll was wearing a helmet, knee pads, shoulder pads, a bulletproof vest, safety goggles, a respirator, work gloves, boots, and a thick dog collar that covered his entire neck. He'd also tied pillows to both sides of his arms and legs. Some of these things, Branch thought were necessary. Others, Branch thought were ridiculous.

"You know, I'm supposed to be the paranoid one, and I think what you're wearing is overkill," Branch finally said, opening the bag. He found the same things that Creek was wearing shoved into it.

"Hey, hey, hey! What do you mean overkill?" Creek protested, waving a trowel in the air. He cut open a bag of mortar mix. "We're about to take our very lives in our hands doing—" He cut himself off, looking around at the equipment he'd brought.

He'd forgotten the bucket to mix the mortar.

"Oh, hair..." He sweat.

Branch didn't need to know what Creek forgot to know what that meant. He looked at his friend lamely for a moment. "Apparently we're not doing anything," he said.

"Er... B-be right back, my friend! I just need to run to town for a moment! I'll just take the express way and be back in a flash!" Creek hopped back on his bug and left, leaving the rest of the equipment there.

Branch looked around, then looked up at the ceiling. There was a hole in it, but not big enough for the fireplace, and it wasn't in the right place, anyway.

"...Might as well get started," he said, and he put on the safety gear he thought was sensible for this situation—the helmet, the respirator, and the safety goggles.

Once he was ready, he grabbed a pickax and grappled up to the ceiling, where he started making a hole for the chimney. He decided to put the fireplace on the opposite side of the tower from his bed and closet to minimize the risk of either one catching fire. This also meant the fireplace would be closer to the window, which Branch kind of hoped would counter the cold air that came in through the window.

Creek returned shortly, a metal bucket in hand that he could use to mix the mortar. He figured that, with mortar being like cement, they should have a second bucket available. He didn't want to risk it drying in Branch's only bucket and destroying it, especially since he wasn't sure how to clean a bucket after using it to mix mortar.

"I'm back! We can get st—" He cut himself off, eyes widening, as he saw many bricks on the floor. He looked up, awestruck, and stared at the hole Branch had put in the roof. "No... You didn't..."

Branch just shrugged and said, "I figured I might as well get things ready for when you got back."

Creek stared up a bit longer. Oh, my goody gumdrops! He did that so quickly! And he's not even hurt! How? Finally, he recovered his voice and said, "Alright. But you're going to have to fill me in on just how, exactly, you did that later, mate. I wasn't gone for that long."

While Creek was talking Branch took the metal bucket he'd brought with him. He started pouring the mortar mix into it, saying, "Yeah, whatever. Can you get me some water for this?"

"Uh—yes! I'm on it!" Creek said, and he hurried to get some water from the wooden bucket. He'd filled it earlier in preparation for tonight's construction.

Because Creek had come a few hours earlier than normal (namely, as soon as Chef went to bed) and with Branch's incredible building speed, the two had the fireplace and chimney built within three hours. They built a metal pole into it that Branch could hang a cooking pot from...if they could find a way to do that and figure out how to cook, anyway. They even had enough bricks left over to fix the holes Branch's early escape attempts had left in the floor, wall, and roof. While Creek went up on the roof to finish the part of the chimney Branch couldn't reach, the gray troll repaired the holes.

After he finished installing the chimney cap, Creek stood and stared at the quickly completed project in awe. "I don't believe it... I just don't believe it! H-how'd we ever manage to—"

From inside the tower below, Branch called, "Hey, I'm done down here! How's it going up there!?"

"We're good to go here, as well! But how'd you do this so quickly in the first place!?" Creek asked, sliding off the roof and grabbing the window with his hair so he could get back inside.

Branch shrugged and said, "I guess building is something I'm good at."

Creek leaped back inside, staring at the gray troll with wide eyes. "Seems so, mate! Want me to bring you any more materials so we can see just how far that goes? We could use them for a table, shelves, and—"

"Maybe we could focus on the lighting situation first? It's dark in here, Creek."

"Uh, y-yes. Okay..." Creek flopped down on his back, exhausted. "But first, let's rest. I'm exhausted, and neither of us knows a thing about welding, so there isn't much we can really do about it right now anyway, right?" he said, and he sounded as tired as he looked.

"Yeah," Branch agreed, sitting down on the floor where he stood, one arm resting across a knee.

They stayed there in silence for a couple of seconds before Creek looked at Branch in concern and asked, "So, Biggie and Cooper tell me you guys had a fight as your final meeting? What was that about?"

"I don't remember exactly what happened. They were trying to cheer me up, like always, and I snapped at Biggie. He started crying, and I think Cooper said something about me going too far. They left, and neither of them spoke to me again. I didn't bother talking to them about it. I figured it would just happen again."

If anything, that answer made Creek more concerned. He rolled onto his stomach and said, "Oh, Branch. That's so awful. Why would you think something so horrible? Surely you weren't that bad back then, were you?"

Branch closed his eyes and shrugged. "Like I told you before, I'm not good company. Being around me just gets people hurt."

"Oh, Branch." Creek sat up and put a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well..."

"Well, on the plus side, I think they both find Princess Poppy highly attractive. I just introduced them both to her the other day, and the entire group quickly became close friends," Creek said with a smile.

Branch wasn't sure how that was a plus side, given that Creek's only reason for trying to get close to Poppy was so that he could help Chef take everyone to Crumsville to be eaten by bergens, but he didn't say that. Instead, he settled for, "Yeah, okay."

"Yes, that kid is something else. You never told me the sunshine seemed to follow her everywhere she goes. Why, it's no wonder you disliked her." He gave Branch a teasing look and added, "Since you prefer the rain and all, mate."

From the sound of things, Creek might have liked Poppy as much as Biggie and Cooper. Of course, Branch knew that didn't mean anything—he was supposed to be Creek's best friend, yet Creek hadn't hesitated to lure him into a trap. He'd do the same to Poppy in the end if they didn't find a way to get Branch out of this tower.

Branch rolled his eyes and said, "Yeah, I figured you'd be into the cupcakes and rainbows attitude." Muttering, he added, "Even though that's about as far from true as it's possible to get."

Not only was the world a lot more miserable than Poppy thought, but Creek wasn't what she thought. He was a traitor who'd sacrifice everything to save himself some pain. It made sense, really. It wasn't like Chef was threatening to kill him. That would be temporary. From what Creek had described, Chef had been hurting him constantly, never going far enough to even risk giving him that escape that death would have brought. Still, it didn't change the facts that Creek wasn't trustworthy and nothing was right in the world.

Creek sighed, apparently content. "Yes. Cupcakes and rainbows, indeed. Why, she's like a beacon of pure happiness that brightens my darkened world every time I see her. Maybe being forced into marrying her won't be so bad after all."

Flatly, Branch said, "Uh-huh. Good luck with that."

He wanted to comment on the fact that being married to her would be miserable once she realized Creek was a traitor, but the risk of driving Creek off again kept Branch's tongue in check. He really didn't want to be alone in here. Those first few days had been horrible, and having company for a few hours each night was the only thing that kept him from being that miserable again.

Creek got up and cracked his back, saying, "Well, I'd best be going before it gets any earlier." He looked at Branch and, gesturing at the mess of tools and unused materials, asked, "Can you do me a favor and clean all of this up and have it packed for me when I return tomorrow?"

"Yeah. Not like I've got anything better to do," Branch answered.

"Thanks, mate. See you later." With that, Creek hopped off the window and headed off.

Branch watched him go, then sighed. "...Dumb idea, making friends with someone you're gonna trick and kill, Creek..." He pulled his legs up to his chest, hugging them, as he added, "It's bad enough you betrayed one friend."

With that miserable thought, Branch got up and headed to bed, where he grabbed Croco and hugged the toy as he fell asleep. He dreamed that he managed to regain his happiness and escape the tower. He then fought Chef and killed her, saving all of the trolls, and was honored as a hero. Poppy even stopped mistaking him for her brother.

The sound of birds singing woke Branch from his sleep, and he opened his eyes to see a gray stone ceiling with rafters. He stared for a bit as reality crept back in. He hadn't escaped. He was still trapped, and everyone's lives were still at risk.

He pulled his blanket over his head and said, "Of course, it was a dream. Nothing good ever happens in my life..." He grabbed Croco again and held on tight.

Depressed, Branch didn't even bother getting out of bed. He didn't even feel like getting up for food—he wasn't hungry, anyway. Later that afternoon, however, he remembered what he'd promised Creek he'd do for him. He didn't really feel like getting up and doing anything, but he also didn't want to risk making Creek mad. Creek was the only company he ever had anymore, and he didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize that.

So, after another moment, Branch forced himself to get up and start packing up the things they'd used to build the chimney. He still felt miserable, but something about getting up and busying himself with something actually helped a bit. Realizing that keeping busy could distract him from his thoughts, he wondered if he should ask Creek for something to do—puzzles, books, games, whatever. At least then he'd have something to keep his mind off his troubles.

Suddenly he heard a deep growling from the window, and something blocked out the sunlight. Branch blinked and looked to the window, where he saw a huge tarantapuff trying to squeeze in. It had several of its legs in and was flailing around, trying to grab at him, but it couldn't get its body in. It roared loudly, looking at Branch with hunger.

Branch's eyes widened. He'd been wanting to learn how to fight so he could defend himself, but he hadn't learned much before he left Troll Village. He grabbed one of the trowels and threw it at the tarantapuff, hitting the creature in the head. It stopped moving and blinked for a moment. With the creature stunned, Branch reached into the bag of mortar mix and grabbed a handful, which he threw at the tarantapuff's face. The creature screeched and writhed in pain as the mix got into its eyes. Branch pulled a frying pan out of his hair and charged, swatting at the beast. He knocked it out of the window, and it landed on its back on the ground below.

Branch looked out the window, heart pounding, hoping the tarantapuff wouldn't come back up. "That thing just..."

Below, the tarantapuff wiggled a bit until it managed to get its feet under it again, then it scurried off.

Branch let out a sigh of relief, putting the frying pan away in his hair. He knew it was a good idea to keep something on him at all times. "It was only a matter of time before something tried to eat me..." he said. Really, he was amazed it had taken this long.

Unbidden, Peppy's voice ran through his head—a lecture he'd received after being caught gathering supplies out in the forest once. "Branch what have I told you about playing in the woods? You know it's dangerous out here. There are many predators that live here who'd love having you for their dinner. You need to be more careful, or they'll eat you alive!"

Once again, he couldn't help but wonder if Peppy always had to be right. Now, Peppy probably thought Branch had been attacked by one of those predators he'd mentioned.

"...I'll have to ask Creek to find some books that can help me learn to defend myself. Might not be the normal way trolls learn that, but it's not like I'll ever have a teacher." Silently, he added, I never should have run away...

Creek wouldn't be here for hours, though—looking at the sun's position in the sky, Branch figured it was around 4 or 5, and Creek never came before dark. So, in the meantime, Branch went back to cleaning up.

When Creek arrived at the tower that night, he brought a sack filled with logs, kindling, and tinder so Branch could use that fireplace. He slung it over his shoulder as he hopped off his bug and into the tower. When he heard Branch's request, however, he raised an eyebrow.

"What was that? You want me to bring you some books on karate and other means of self defense? Whatever for?" he asked, setting the sack down with a lost look on his face.

"Just...figured it couldn't hurt to learn some," Branch answered. If I tell him something attacked me, he'll probably go back to just stopping by for a few seconds...

Sure, Branch could have asked Creek to find some way that he could close the window when he was alone, but he thought that would have involved installing some kind of ventilation system, too. The window was the only real source of air in this tower—the fireplace flue wouldn't be open unless Branch was using the chimney, and it would mostly be letting smoke out so he didn't die of smoke inhalation. Finding a way to close the window would be more complicated than just covering it, and Creek had barely agreed to help Branch install a fireplace. He might decide that the self defense lessons would be a safer option for himself and just spend less time visiting each night if he knew what had happened. Branch didn't want to be alone, so he didn't want to risk scaring Creek off.

Creek stared at him for a bit, trying to figure out what Branch's reason was. Then he asked, "This is about finding ways to handle Chef once you make it out of here, isn't it?"

"...Yes," Branch answered. Better answer than the truth.

"Well, alright, mate. As you wish. Oh, and before I forget, I've brought you some materials needed for starting a fire." He opened the bag, spilling logs, sticks, and other flammable objects all over the floor. "This will allow you to use the fireplace we just built to stay warm and be able to see at night. What do you think?" Creek looked at Branch, smiling, as he pulled a toolbox out of his hair. "And this is for all those tools we keep moving in and out. I've already stuffed it full of our most commonly used ones, but you'll have to ask me if you require anything else." He set the toolbox down on the floor.

Branch looked over the supplies Creek had brought and noticed that there was something important missing. "Did you bring any matches or anything?"

Creek gave a start, sweating. "Uh, what, now?"

Branch sighed. That was a no. "Creek, you're supposed to use the tinder to light the kindling to start a fire, but I can't do that without something I can use to create fire. Tinder doesn't just light up on its own."

Creek sweat again, looking awkward. "...Uh, can't you simply do that thing with the two sticks those littler trollings do at the Troll Scouts to make one?" he asked, miming the technique in question by running his hands back and forth as though he were rubbing a stick between them. "Does it have to be a match? You didn't have any before."

Branch couldn't shake the feeling Creek would really hate it if he told him that was the unsafe way to do it. Muttering, he said, "Yeah, I had flint before. Stupidly gave it to you." Not that that would be the safest method here, either, but he'd never been in Troll Scouts and hadn't learned the method Creek was talking about. "Yeah, I guess I can try," he said to Creek.

Creek stared at him for a moment. He'd heard that mutter. "Do you want your flint returned to you or something? Do you have what you'd need to light it up?" he asked, still looking awkward.

"Yeah, Creek, I could use it if you brought it back."

That still wasn't the safest option, but it would have to do if Creek was truly set against matches. Admittedly, Peppy had never let Branch use them, anyway, so he'd still have to figure out how to light them if he did have them.

Creek looked kind of glum as he asked, "And would I need to learn how to replace it as well?"

Taking care of Branch was getting harder to do each day. How many things would he need to bring just to keep Branch alive? Food and water had been the obvious ones, but he also had to keep the younger trolling warm, meaning he needed not just blankets but also fire, apparently. That meant he'd had to build a fireplace, and now he would need to bring wood for the fire, along with the tinder so Branch would actually be able to light the fire. Hygiene supplies were necessary to keep Branch from getting sick, and bandages and medicine were necessities in case Branch did get sick or hurt. Now Branch was telling him he'd need to bring something to start a fire? How could keeping one trolling alive be so difficult?

"Eventually it'll need replaced, so..." Branch let that sentence trail off.

Creek groaned in defeat, exasperated. "Alright, fine. I'll go study geology or something next so I can learn more about it." Silently he added, Half Frogs, Branch. There has got to be an easier way to do this! I'm too young to be bringing all this stuff all the time alone! He started for the window, intent on getting Branch's flint from his old bunker before the sun rose.

Seeing Creek's frustration, Branch decided to offer some advice. Some nights, he hated Creek and loved watching him struggle. Others, he pitied him. This happened to be one of the pitying nights.

"Matches might be easier," Branch suggested.

Creek started, turning to face him. "What?"

Branch shrugged. "You don't have to learn anything new to bring matches or a lighter. I'd be the one who had to figure out how to use them, so that would probably be easier for you."

Creek clapped his right hand down on his left, palm up, as his eyes lit up. "A lighter! Now there's an idea! I could bring you one of those, and that would be one less thing for me to remember!" He hopped on his flyer bug to go get one of those, saying, "Be right back, Branch! Don't wait up, though, because this could take a while!" Then he flew off.

He was only 11, and trollings weren't allowed to have lighters. Nobody really wanted to risk them burning themselves. With that in mind, he'd have to find one lying around and just take it from whoever owned it. But desperate times called for desperate measures, and Branch needed some way to make a fire.

Branch looked at the firewood Creek had brought. Given that Creek was only 11, it didn't surprise Branch that there wasn't much there. Still, since that fireplace was supposed to keep him alive through an entire season, which meant at least one fourth of the year, realistically even more than that, it was disheartening to realize that his only source of resources couldn't bring enough firewood to get him through a single day.

"...If that's all he can bring in a day, I'll freeze in winter. That'll barely get me through the night, let alone the day." He sighed. "Guess I'll have to ration it for now and save it up for winter."

Branch gathered up what was there and headed over to stack the firewood by the fireplace. He put the kindling and tinder over there, too, and decided to ask Creek to help him stock up on more for the winter since it was starting to look like he might still be here by then.

When Creek returned with the lighter, he was just glad that trolls didn't believe in stealing—he "borrowed" a lot of things from adult trolls without their knowledge. He agreed to Branch's request about the firewood. He could tell it was a serious concern for the gray troll. In the days that followed, he brought books on self defense, figuring that it might make Branch happy to learn those skills and at least dream of taking down Chef. To help Branch keep himself occupied, Creek also brought a journal, some pencils, and a small pencil sharpener. Creek remembered Branch had kept a journal when they were younger, so he figured keeping one now could help him cope with this situation since Branch said getting busy with something had helped earlier. To provide some variety in case one option didn't work, Creek also brought Branch some puzzles he could put together if he needed a distraction.

With a bunch more stuff on the floor, Branch decided he should build a desk that he could use to store these items. It would also give him a spot to write other than the floor or bed. When it was finished, he set it up on the right side of the tower from the window, still being sure to keep it far enough away from the fireplace that it wouldn't be likely to catch a spark. He put the journal, pencils, and pencil sharpener in the drawer. Then he set the puzzles and books on top of the desk and tucked the CD player and CDs underneath it to get them out of the middle of the floor. Since a desk should have a chair, he pushed the first chair he'd made (the one that wasn't being used as a table and drying rack) up to the desk.

The washbasin, chamber pot, bucket, and other chair were still just scattered in the tower, along with the cleaning solution. But this place was starting to look even more like a troll's home the more Branch built to furnish it.

The day Branch built the desk, Creek came in and just stared in amazement. After a bit, he said, "Alright, that does it. You are clearly quite skilled as a carpenter, my friend. Isn't there anything you can't build?" He tossed his arms out to the sides as he asked that.

Branch shrugged and said, "Don't ask for anything elaborately decorated. That's probably beyond my skills."

Creek just gaped at him.

Now convinced that Branch could build anything if he set his mind to it, Creek started studying welding and teaching it to Branch, too, over the next few months. Once they knew enough, they installed a couple of brackets for torches and made some to light the tower. Then, since Branch's diet had been rather limited lately, they set about finding a way for him to cook. They modified a cooking pot, sticking a long handle on it and attaching a hook to the pole in the fireplace so Branch could hang the pot in there for cooking. Creek was kind of surprised to learn that Branch knew how to cook over an open fire, but he brought some dishware anyway—and dish soap since Branch would need to be able to wash whatever he used each day. For now, they laid the silverware and dishes out on a towel in the corner since there wasn't any place else to store them. Creek also brought the tools Branch would need to clean out the fireplace and safely remove the pot when it was finished cooking.

Given that winter was right around the corner by the time they finished with this, the two decided to save as much wood as possible for now so that Branch would have enough to make it through winter. Branch also brought up another problem for Creek to solve—the window, which was always wide open, would let in cold air as fast as the fireplace tried to warm the tower. Creek brought in a heavy tarp and, against his better judgment, a power drill, and they installed hooks around the window that Branch could use to hang the tarp over it to keep out at least some of the cold. It wasn't a perfect solution, but it would do well enough to get him through the colder season.

While he was working with Branch on all of that, Creek was also trying to get to know Poppy better. He and his other two friends were spending quite a bit of time with the three girls during the day. By the time Branch had the ability to cook in that tower, strong bonds were forming between the girls and the boys.

Poppy laughed happily as Creek pushed her on the swings. "Higher, Creek! Higher! This feels like I'm flying, and I wanna touch the sky!" She laughed some more as she swung.

Creek grinned, slightly amused, and pushed her a bit harder, saying, "Well, alright, love! If you insist!"

Poppy laughed again. "Whee! Yeah! Yeah! Just like that!" Each time the swing reached its highest point, Poppy reached for the sky.

"Ooh! I wanna fly higher, too!" Smidge said, inspired by Poppy. "I'm gonna see how high up I can jump from way up there!" She pointed at the sky, then looked at the troll who was pushing her—Biggie. "And you're gonna catch me when I land, too, right!?" she asked, excited.

Biggie looked slightly startled and a bit uneasy. "Oh! Uh, yes, of course!" Silently, he added, I hope.

"Awesome! Here I go, then!" Smidge said as her swing went up. At the highest point, she jumped off, aiming for height, not distance.

Cooper was pushing DJ, but Smidge's jump sent her so high that he couldn't help but look. She was just a dot up in the sky now.

"Dang! Look how high she went! I can barely see her anymore!" he said, staring up instead of watching what he was doing. He tried to push DJ, but he missed and fell face first into the dirt instead.

DJ stopped her swing and looked at Cooper, concerned. "You okay, big guy? I didn't hit ya in the head or nothin', did I?"

Smidge laughed as she started coming down fast. She had managed to go forward a bit, so she wasn't going to land close to the swings. Worried, Biggie ran to catch her. Meanwhile, Poppy swung on with a smile on her face as if nothing was going on. If Smidge wasn't worried, she didn't need to be.

Cooper sat up, spitting out a mouthful of dirt, and said, "Nah, DJ, I just wasn't paying enough attention!" He laughed.

Biggie ran around frantically, his arms out in front of him, as he looked up at the sky and tried to get under Smidge. "Oh my, oh my... Oh, I hope I don't miss..."

Smidge could be seriously hurt if she fell from that high and he didn't catch her. And she was getting closer and closer to the ground, still laughing like this was the most fun thing in the world.

Creek peered out from behind Poppy, who he was still pushing, and asked, "Need a hand there, mate!?"

"Oh, no, I've got her!" Biggie answered, moving slightly to avoid having Smidge land on him. A second later, he caught her, holding her high over his head. Smidge was still laughing. "I caught her!" Biggie exclaimed, apparently surprised. "I caught her!" he repeated, thrilled. Then he put the child down on the ground, hoping she wouldn't try that again.

Creek stopped pushing Poppy, and both of them started clapping. DJ did as well.

"Yes, congratulations, my friend! Well done!" Creek said.

"Yeah, nice catch!" Poppy agreed.

"It was fantastic!" DJ added. "You guys make a real cool team!"

Cooper jumped, excited, and said, "Yeah! Tell me about it!"

"That was awesome, Biggie!" Smidge said, apparently excited about the whole thing. "We should do it again sometime!"

Biggie brought his hand up in front of his face in a loose fist and nervously asked, "Oh, we should?"

"Totally! You guys make such a terrific team!" Poppy said, pumping her hands over her head happily as she kept cheering for that stunt.

"I couldn't agree more, love," Creek said. "They really do look good together, don't they?"

Whether Creek actually agreed with Poppy or not, he always said he did. He wanted her to like him and think they had a lot in common so she'd someday fall in love with him. After all, Chef's plan was for him to marry this little girl. In reality, he wasn't so sure Smidge's recklessness and Biggie's nervousness did fit well together, but he seemed to be outvoted.

Biggie looked at her, then he smiled and answered, "Yes, we do."

Smidge leaped into his arms and hugged him, happy. Biggie hugged her back, laughing.

Everyone else watched, thinking that was cute. "Aw..." they all said.

"That's so sweet, ya guys. You're getting' a long really great!" DJ said.

"Yeah!" Poppy agreed, then she blinked, thinking. She turned to Creek, arms open and an eager smile on her face, and said, "I want a hug now, too!"

Amused, Creek laughed and said, "Okay."

The two hugged, Poppy closing her eyes. Everyone gave the same reaction as they had to Smidge and Biggie's hug, even though Smidge was still holding Biggie when they did.

Cooper looked at Biggie and said, "Guess Creek found a new best friend, huh?"

Biggie looked upset for a second, remembering the troll who had once been Creek's best friend. Peppy said he shouldn't blame himself for what happened to Branch, but Biggie couldn't stop thinking that things could have turned out differently if he hadn't given up on his unhappy friend. He usually just tried not to think about Branch too much—there wasn't anything he could do for the gray troll now, after all. "Yes, I suppose so..."

Smidge misinterpreted his sad expression and tone and said, "Aw, don't be jealous, big guy. I think you're pretty cool. And speaking of, we should test our skills by joining the Musical Thrones contest when we're old enough! What do ya say?"

Honestly, Biggie didn't know how Musical Thrones would test their teamwork skills, but he didn't say. He just smiled back at her and answered, "Yes, that sounds fun!"

If anybody was jealous, it was Cooper, staring at the two trolls who seemed to be best friends for a second. He turned to DJ and asked, "You wanna hug? I kinda feel left out."

She laughed and opened her arms for one. "Sure. Why not?" she said, hopping off the swing and heading over to the older troll.

Cooper hugged her happily, and the other four gave the same reaction yet again.

"Ooh, this is so great! Poppy said excitedly. "Everyone's finding their new bestest friends!"

DJ pulled back, giggling some. "Yeah. I guess we are."

"Let's celbrate! Poppy said, mispronouncing the word due to her young age. She hopped up and stood on her swing. "Who's up for some cupcakes at my place!?"

DJ and Smidge waved their hands happily.

"Ooh, ooh! I am, I am!" DJ said.

"Yeah! That sounds great!"

Cooper bounced around excitedly and said, "I love cupcakes!"

"Yes, that sounds great!" Biggie said, unintentionally copying Smidge almost word for word.

"Sounds good to me, love. Lead the way," Creek said, gesturing for her to do that.

Poppy leaped off the swing eagerly. "Okay! Then come with me, everyone! We can play follow the leader along the way!"

The others reacted to that idea with excitement, and their game began as they headed to the royal pod for cupcakes.

So far, so good. Poppy's starting to gravitate to me more than anyone else here. Well, other than Smidge, that is, but she shouldn't be a problem. I highly doubt the princess of Troll Village would go for someone like that, anyway. Her aura isn't showing any signs of that, at least. And besides that, she's going to become queen one day, so that wouldn't be allowed even if she did, Creek thought, knowing full well that a royal troll needed to be in a relationship that could produce an heir, especially since Poppy was an only child. Meaning all I have to do is keep liking every single thing that Poppy does, and I should win her over in no time! Hmm... Meaning I'd best come to love scrapbooking and wild and crazy stunts. Poppy seems to be highly attracted to those sorts of activities, so if I'm going to woo her, they'll have to become my favorite activities as well. Ugh, this is going to be harder than I thought. Why can't Branch just become happy already and get this over with? I hate risking my life just for fun, but...

He sighed inwardly, knowing it couldn't be helped, and just continued this game, acting like nothing was wrong at all. He was pretty good at that since Chef had trained him to act.

Winter came and went, and somehow Branch made it through. Creek came in every night, occasionally bringing with him another idea about how to make Branch happy. Every single one seemed inspired by Poppy since that failed attempt with the I Spy game. Still, while these attempts didn't leave Branch in tears, none of them worked to make him happy. Some, he didn't even like, although he went along with them, desperate to find a way out of the tower. One failed attempt had been throwing Branch a birthday party—Poppy threw them for trolls all the time. Unfortunately, all that a birthday party did for Branch was remind him of how long he'd been stuck in the tower, which led Creek to immediately change tactics and whip out the fluffleberry cake he'd brought for the birthday boy. While Branch was distracted by the cake, Creek had hastily changed the decorations so nothing that said "birthday" on it was anywhere to be found. A regular party hadn't upset Branch, but it hadn't cheered him up any, either.

Before long, it had been a year. The weather was nice enough outside that Creek was able to take Poppy, now 6, out to teach her how to ride a bike. Of course, he asked Peppy if this was okay, but the fact that he'd be spending this time alone with her provided a perfect opportunity to bond, which would help with the ultimate goal of making her fall in love with him...when she was much older than 6, at any rate. It did strike Creek as a bit wrong that he was trying to get a girl half his age to fall in love with him, but Chef didn't care about such things as age. Creek assumed it would feel less wrong by the time Poppy was actually old enough to fall for him.

"Ready, my princess?" Creek asked, pushing the blue bike down a small hill with a smile. "I'm letting go now!"

Poppy laughed happily, pedaling as fast as she could. "Wahoo! Looky, Creek! I'm doing it!"

Creek watched her, proud at first. Then he noticed that she was careening straight toward a thorn bush. He gave a start, eyes widening. "A-ah! Poppy! L-look out for that—" he cried, running toward her with a hand outstretched.

She crashed into the thorn bush, and Creek stopped. Poppy fell off the bike seat and landed in the bush, crying out, "Whaaa—oof!" She sat up slightly, saying, "Owie... That one smarts..." She sniffled.

Creek cringed, uncomfortable. "Ooh... This might not have been the best idea I've ever had..." He was suddenly glad he'd learned so much about medicine in his efforts to care for Branch. Chef's going to kill me if I don't hurry to her aid. Good thing I've been studying medicine with Dr. Plum as her assistant. Hmm... And speaking of, I wonder if those medical herbs really do work on the common cold...

Setting that idle curiosity aside for now, he approached Poppy, nervous. "Uh, Poppy? Are you alright?" he asked. Kids spill into these sorts of things all the time, so I doubt she's hurt too badly. The leaves of the plant should have caught her fall, but I'll end up looking bad if I don't help her. Besides that, she's just a poor, defenseless kid... He helped her out of the bush, not wanting to leave a little girl stuck like that.

At a playground nearby, a couple of little girls of about 6 were arguing atop a hill. They had come to play, but they couldn't seem to agree on what they were doing. Given that these little girls were conjoined twins, it actually mattered.

"But I don't want to go down that slide!" the pink one complained.

"And I don't want to climb on the jungle gym!" the blue one argued back. "We already did what you wanted to!"

"No, we didn't!"

The two stopped arguing when they heard what sounded like someone in tears. "Ow, Creek... Those thorns really hurt..." The troll sniffled.

The twins stopped and looked toward the sound. Seeing the princess all scratched up, they gasped and ran over.

"Are you okay?" the pink twin asked.

"What happened?"

By this point, Creek had Poppy out of the bush and seated on the ground nearby. He reached to pull out a first aid kit from his hair, looking at the two new arrivals with compassion. Poppy covered her eyes, crying.

"Nothing to worry about. She just had a little spill into a thorn bush is all," Creek answered. Nothing too serious, just some cuts and scrapes, just as I'd suspected. And I've got everything I need to treat those right here, so there's nothing to worry about. I need to be more careful in the future, though, or I'll never get the king's blessing to marry her. And if that were to occur... He shuddered inwardly, knowing what Chef would likely do to him.

But he brushed those thoughts aside for now and focused on Poppy. He opened his first aid kit and said, "It's alright, love. I'll make it all better in no time." He reached for her knee with a disinfecting wipe, adding, "Now, this might sting a bit, but it'll help..."

He touched a cut on her leg, and she yelped, flinching away from him. When she moved, the twins saw a small tear in the side of her dress, and it certainly wasn't an ideal place for a tear.

"Shh, shh, my princess," Creek soothed. "It's alright. Just try to hold still until I'm finished, alright?"

She nodded, whimpering again, and covered her head as she braced herself.

The pink twin, looking at the hole in the princess's dress, gasped. She could see Poppy's underwear through that little hole.

"Princess Poppy, your dress is torn," her twin said, looking concerned.

Poppy looked at them. "I-it is...? Ouch!" She cried out as Creek once again touched an especially painful cut. "That one really—" She cringed away, covering her eyes again and crying some more.

"Shh... It's alright..." Creek soothed, reaching up and stroking her hair gently. Poppy calmed down a bit, whimpering but staying still, and Creek went back to cleaning her wounds.

"Yes, and that's a terrible place for that!" the pink twin said.

"We can fix it for you."

"Y—ow!" Poppy cringed, but she didn't pull away this time. Now she just wanted to get this over with.

Somehow, what Creek was doing reminded her of how older troll boys tended to act the same way whenever she was hurt. She kind of remembered a different troll, a gray one, treating her wounds when she fell off a jungle gym once... This reminded her, what was a "feeuncey," anyway? Was that some fancy way adults said "adopted brother" or something? That troll had lived with her, so she couldn't think of what else it meant.

Still, she set that confusing thought aside as the pain settled down again. She looked back at the twins, her hands still near her tear-filled eyes. "C—can?" she finished her question, even though she never even got the first word out earlier. She sniffled some.

The pink twin looked uncomfortable and answered, "Well, we're learning to sew..."

The blue one waved a hand, saying, "It's a small tear. We can fix it easy!"

"Why, that'd be lovely, you two!" Creek said gently as he started putting bandages on Poppy's cuts and scrapes. "But could it wait until I get her all fixed up first? I'm just about done here, if you're willing to wait."

"Of course!" the pink twin answered. "I'm Satin, by the way, and this is my sister, Chenille."

Chenille waved and said, "Hello."

"H-hi... N-nice to meet you..." Poppy said, getting more control of herself now that the pain was less. She sniffled again and added, "And thanks, by t-the way..."

"The pleasure's all mine, as well. And my name's Creek, in case you were wondering." With Poppy patched up, Creek picked Poppy up off the ground and wrapped his hair around her to hide the hole for now. "So, Satin. Chenille. You said you two can sew?"

"That's right!" Chenille said, her eyes lighting up. "We're maker trolls who speci—spe-spe-cia-lize in fashion!" She was rather pleased with herself for getting that difficult word out, even if it had taken her a couple of tries and she'd had to say it slowly.

Satin didn't look quite as confident as her sister as she added, "Although we're still learning..."

Creek smiled down at them both and said, "Why, that sounds lovely. So, you think you could fix this minor tear in Princess Poppy's dress?"

Poppy looked at them, blushing with embarrassment. Not only was she sore, but she had a hole in her dress in an embarrassing location. Could this day get any worse?

"That should be easy!" Chenille answered confidently. "We'll have her dress as good as new in no time!"

Satin smiled and amended, "Well, maybe not as good as new, but it will be fixed, anyway."

Chenille glared at her sister. "Satin, I know what I'm doing!"

"I didn't say you didn't. I just don't think we're that good yet!"

"Maybe you aren't" Chenille said, jabbing a finger into her sister's chest, "but I am!"

"C-cool. Then let's g-get going, a-alright?" Poppy stammered. She covered her face and shook her head, adding, "This is embarrassing..."

Creek set her down and fanned his hair out over the three girls, turning away to protect Poppy's decency. "I'll just leave you ladies to it, then. Careful not to poke her, though. She's already been used for a pincushion once today, and that's more than enough." He glanced over his shoulder slightly with a teasing grin.

Poppy crossed her arms, careful of her cuts, and looked down. "Very funny."

Chenille pulled out a needle and, for whatever reason, pink thread and got to work fixing the blue dress. Satin kept offering tips from their teacher—tips that Chenille honestly didn't need, especially since Satin didn't bother saying a word about the color of thread Chenille chose to use.

"Are you sure that's the right kind of stitch for this?" Satin asked as her sister started working on the tear.

Now growing annoyed, Chenille answered, "Satin, I know what I'm doing."

Poppy wasn't so sure anymore. "Um... You guys sure you know how to do this?" she asked, looking at them in concern. Satin's uncertainty was making her nervous.

Chenille stopped working and pumped a fist onto her hip, complaining, "Does everyone think I'm an amuture!?"

"I think you mean, amateur," Satin corrected.

"I know what I meant, Satin!" Chenille snapped, getting back to work stitching up the tear.

Satin grinned, amused at that reaction. It was always fun when Chenille, who thought she was so smart, got something wrong.

Before long, Poppy was feeling much better. She hadn't been poked at all, and the twins had both ended up working on her dress when they finally realized that pink thread on a blue dress didn't exactly make it "as good as new" since it was obvious it had torn at some point. Because of that, the twins had worked together to make a stripe up the side of Poppy's dress. The tear was gone, and there was now a pink stripe from hem to just under Poppy's arm.

"Whoa, you guys!" Poppy said, spinning excitedly as she looked at their work. "That's so cool! My dress looks even better than before!"

Chenille looked flattered. "Well, we try."

"It really does look better like this! I guess it's a good thing Chenille used the wrong thread," Satin said.

"I meant to do that!"

Satin gave her a disbelieving look.

"Either way, you both did a lovely job fixing it. Thank you both for all your help," Creek said as he pulled Poppy's bike from the bush.

"Yeah! Thanks!"

"You're welcome!" the twins said in unison.

"You two are the coolest!" Poppy gushed, leaning forward with her hands on her face. "Wanna be friends!?"

Creek lowered the kick stand for Poppy's bike as his eyes widened, as he gave a start. "Um, Poppy. That's not really—" he started. At the same time, he was thinking about this unusual way Poppy had of trying to make friends. Wouldn't it be best to get to know the two a bit first? Or ask them to hang out a bit or something? That can't be a good way to make friends with someone.

The twins looked surprised for maybe a fraction of a second before they both smiled. "Of course!"

Satin put her hands to her cheeks and said, "Wow, we made a new friend!"

"I think she likes me more," Chenille said, putting a hand to her chest.

Satin looked annoyed. Did everything have to be a competition with Chenille?

"Cool! We go some new friends, Creek!" Poppy said, hopping into his arms happily. "Isn't it wonderful!? I can't wait to tell the others!" She laughed.

The twins smiled, happy.

Creek was completely taken aback by all of this. "Uh—du—y-yes, of course! We're glad to have you, ladies! Welcome!" Silently, he added, If she can make friends that easily, who knows what else she can do!

The more Creek learned about this princess, the more impressed he was. While her ideas didn't seem to be working on Branch so far, he couldn't help but wonder if there was something she could come up with that would. If nothing else, spending time with Poppy was slowly helping him—his fear and despair were slowly becoming less all-consuming. When Chef wasn't going off on him for making mistakes or questioning his strange behaviors (like his desire to learn medicine, which he'd covered up by saying it would help him win over Poppy), spending time with Poppy was something to look forward to. If she could help him forget his troubles and feel better, she could do anything.

There was no doubt about it—he'd be getting all of his ideas for making Branch happy from Poppy from now on. He'd already been using her as his main source of inspiration, wary of trying anything that he came up with on his own after he'd upset Branch so badly with that one idea, but now he knew Poppy was the best source of inspiration. She was an expert on happiness, and he really needed one. Branch was his only hope of getting out of this mess safely, after all.

Shortly, Poppy had the rest of the gang gathered to meet the newest members of their circle. She gestured at the twins, happy, and said, "Guys! Meet my new friends! This is Satin and that's Chenille!" She indicated the blue, then the pink. "They helped me fix my dress up when I ripped it riding my bike!"

"Actually, I'm Chenille," Chenille amended, putting a hand to her chest, "and she's Satin."

"It's an easy mistake," Satin said.

"Hi!" DJ said, waving. "I'm DJ Suki! Nice to meet ya!"

"And I'm Smidge! And I'm a lot older than I look!" She crossed her arms, smiling.

Smidge had been saying that quite a lot lately. Everyone kept mistaking her for a baby and wondering who the parents were that left their infant alone, so she'd started pointing out that she was, in fact, 6 years old.

"Hello! My name's Biggie."

"Hi!" Cooper said. "I don't make barrels! My name's Cooper!" He laughed at his own joke.

After hearing Cooper say that he wasn't a shoemaker while introducing himself once, his Auntie Opal had corrected him, saying that a cooper was someone who made things like barrels. He'd changed his introduction as a result.

The twins, however, were like most small children and didn't even know a cooper was a job, so they just looked at him in confusion.

Creek stood back, watching in wonder. How could Poppy make friends so easily. Everyone just seemed to love her. Well, everyone except for Branch, at least. "Unbelievable..."

That night, Creek was giving the same wide-eyed, stunned look in response to another friend of his.

"You know, I'm not quite sure which of the two of you is more amazing, Princess Poppy and her ability to make friends in an instant or your ability to build just about anything in less than a day!" he exclaimed, throwing his arms up.

Branch had built a bookshelf. Sure, that itself wasn't surprising. But Creek hadn't brought him anything for that. He brought some books for entertainment purposes the night before, hoping to cheer Branch up that way. Of course, he'd asked Branch what kind of books he wanted brought in before doing this. Still, when he left, there were books on the floor and no signs of any place to hold them. Now there was a bookshelf with all 12 books he'd brought the night before, the survival books he'd brought earlier, the puzzles, the CD player, the CDs, and a chess set.

That chess set was a special one—in his quest for a way to make Branch happy, Creek had learned that Branch liked chess. Creek had then let it be known that he wanted a chess set (untrue, but much of what he said to his friends in Troll Village was lies, anyway), and Smidge had given it to him for his 12th birthday. Since the only real reason he wanted it was so that Branch could have it, Creek had immediately brought it to the tower with him and left it here. It wasn't like any of his friends were into that game besides Branch, anyway.

"How'd you even do this, mate!?" Creek asked, throwing his arms toward the bookshelf in an exaggerated gesture. "I didn't think the wood I left here earlier was that big!"

Since Branch needed ways to keep busy, Creek did tend to leave some extra wood lying around in case the other troll thought there was something he should build or he just needed busywork, but the planks he'd left here weren't long enough that Creek had expected anything like this—maybe another chair since Branch had built a small round table after Creek brought the chess set in. But a bookshelf? That thing was as tall as they were!

Branch shrugged and said, "Not that hard when you know what you're doing."

Creek just stood there, arms dangling in front of him as he gaped. Finally, he shook it off and looked at Branch, saying, "You could build a scale model of the castle in Bergen Town, rooms perfectly designed to match the real one, in less than a week if given the chance to, couldn't you?"

"Doubtful. What I said last year about not asking for anything elaborately decorated still applies," Branch answered simply.

"Uh, alright. If you say so..." Creek just stared at the bookshelf in awe for a bit longer. Somehow, he wasn't so sure that was true anymore, all things considered. Branch might have been downplaying his own skills.