Mad Queen 8
Volcano Rock City was the type of place that would change a troll. The air was different and the streets were covered with gray ashes. It was warm and fluffy and sometimes it burned the feet. It was an edgy sensation that he was constantly one step away from a burn mark. It caused a familiar anxiety to rise and Branch could only try to swallow it down to focus on his goal.
It didn't settle well to leave Poppy behind in Trollstopia. He had made a quick invitation, but he was glad she had refused to join him. His investigation would be more efficient if she wasn't there, struggling with her memories and re-living a previous marriage at every corner.
Queen Barb was surprisingly welcoming. She was standing at the door when he arrived tired and dirty. A shower and refreshments were offered so he could put himself together. It was a small piece of heaven to be able to brush his teeth and get rid of the taste of ashes that he had inhaled while crossing the city.
"I can't say I'm surprised." Queen Barb sat down at a table, which was full of food and dirty dishes. The sight alone made Branch's eye twitch. "Is Poppy 'rocking' too much for you?"
"She's different." Branch bit his tongue to stop speaking more than it was necessary, "I can't say if it's because of this place or of what she's been through."
"A city alone can't change someone who doesn't wish to be changed." Muddy rose feet were placed on top of the table; ankles crossed. "I say we did a pretty good job. So what brings you here, Prince Regent?"
"I want to hear from you," He felt her unwillingness to talk, but Queen Barb was there anyway, receiving him because he was a Prince and it was her diplomatic duty to do so, "how was Poppy when she first arrived?"
"King Peppy asked me that a thousand times," bored, the Queen leaned against her chair, nearly falling off the table. "She was hurt and confused. I did what was asked and got her a good doctor to fix her wounds and a therapist to work on her memories."
Riff was sitting down on a couch that was ripped in half, quietly paying attention while he wrote notes on a notebook from a book he was reading. Branch had heard he was on his way to get a Ph.D. At Queen Barb's irritation, Riff closed the notebook and focused on Branch.
"Poppy never recovered her memories from that night." Branch turned to Riff, who continued speaking, "King Peppy asked many times if we spotted anything suspicious in her speech, mental confusion or absences. But Poppy was herself all the time, sad, but herself."
"And my letters…" Branch tried to speak, but he was sharply cut.
"Those insensitive letters of yours," Queen Barb growled in boredom, "I had to answer them, but honestly, Branch, 'how is Poppy's mental condition' isn't exactly a question a boyfriend would ask."
Indeed, Branch tried to be as practical as possible in his letters to Queen Barb, while in his letters to Poppy he poured his heart out, he didn't want to be indiscreet while writing to a rock troll.
"I meant the letters I addressed to Poppy." Branch explained, careful to make her fully understand each word.
Queen Barb looked confused. A mix of emotions crossed her features, from confusion to surprise to suspicion.
"I never got any letters to give Poppy." She crossed her arms, almost defying Branch to accuse her of destroying his letters.
"King Peppy and your letters to Barb were the only letters we got." Riff sensed the atmosphere thickening. With a perception that was rare for a rock troll, he adjusted his hat and stood up. "C'mon. I'll show you Poppy's apartment."
Branch nodded to Barb who ignored him. The survivalist numbly followed Riff back to the dark gray city. He could only imagine how Poppy had felt when she first arrived there. Confused, hurt and surrounded by grayness. Not a rainbow would be able to pierce through the volcanic smoke to paint a smile on her lips.
"Dr. Leopold and I shared a few coffees," with his hands in his pocket, Riff guided his pop guest through the streets, always choosing the empty ones. "He diagnosed Poppy with anxiety and occasional panic attacks."
"But she never had those conditions before." Of course, it could only mean she developed the mental disorder because of the trauma of seeing Trollstopia burning.
"He was suspicious of hallucinations at first. Poppy arrived hurt and said things that made no sense to us. Then he discarded it when he noticed that she truly believed she had done something terrible." Riff stopped in front of a pub with beige colors. "He recommended she get a job to keep herself busy. This is the first place she worked at. Double shifts."
The survivalist felt like he was peeking through a window of Poppy's past. He could picture her walking around, serving drinks to trolls and wiping their tables with dimmed lights. Branch could almost see her turning a blind eye to wolf whistles.
His stomach tightened and he felt sick.
"C'mon, her apartment is just around the corner."
Branch would have barged into Volcano Rock City as soon as he heard she was working so much. In the letters she never got he constantly asked if she was doing something for a living.
The sickness increased. He wrote thousands of letters that never got to their destination. Thousands of letters with his deepest secrets were lost, somewhere, with accusations, confessions and words of eternal love.
"Do you want any privacy?" Riff unlocked the apartment's door, allowing Branch to walk inside.
"No, it's okay."
Quiet and attentive, the rock troll walked around, checking the dusty furniture.
Several trophies and medals were displayed in the living room. Rob's name was in all of them.
"He was a really good motorcyclist." Riff offered an explanation. Pictures of Rob and Poppy singing together on a stage required even more explanations. "They sang together a lot. They even got a fan club. You could say Poppy was happy when she was singing."
Branch bit his tongue. Dark vines of jealousy squeezed his heart. He didn't take the frame in his hands, but he did notice the glass was cracked. It didn't look happy to have a ruined frame on display.
"How did Rob treat Poppy?" Branch dryly asked. Riff hesitated and chose his words carefully.
"I can't say much about their private life, but as far as I could see, Rob was in love, fierily. He did everything to make her happy."
Aquamarine hands gripped the trophy shelf. His palms were sweaty. The frown deepened. Branch felt furious. He had wished to hear that Poppy was miserable, that Rob made her sad, as selfish as it sounded.
It didn't match what he had pictured when he heard her side of the story. Did she live one thing and imagine another?
They had a freaking fan club, for Hair's sake!
Branch knew he had no right to be angry with Poppy. She had warned him before he left for the trip. She had succeeded in reconstructing her life in Volcano Rock City.
Practical matters. Branch reminded himself that he had to focus on his goals or he'd sink in a swirl of jealousy that would drag him down to madness.
He opened drawers, barely thinking he was digging into his wife's privacy. Riff didn't question him, but he held his breath when Branch found several revealing pairs of underwear that she was saving for the wedding night.
Branch needed a journal, scrapbooks or anything that could pinpoint Poppy's true feelings at the time she arrived. Anything could be a clue to prove her innocence.
"What are you looking for?" Riff asked, approaching to help him out.
"Anything that can help to prove she was framed." His true intentions rolled out of his tongue before he could stop himself. Branch wasn't going to tell anyone what he was doing there; after all, every troll was a potential suspect.
"King Peppy said something similar in one of his letters." Riff sat down on the messy bed. The old water bottle was still on the side table. Poppy was very organized once she arrived, but when Rob passed away she stopped caring.
"Where are they?" Branch stiffened and turned to look at the younger troll.
"Burnt like every diplomatic letter we get." Riff struggled. Branch sat down heavily next to him.
It was useless. He traveled all the way to Volcano Rock City to meet a dead end.
"But I remember he said to keep Poppy from going back before he found the reason behind the fire or until the citizens carried on with their lives."
"He was afraid Poppy would be accused of madness and lost her crown." Branch nodded. He knew that. He had talked to King Peppy about it. "It seems Poppy's lost memories are the only link to the truth."
"Then you should meet Dr. Leopold." Riff stood up, offering Branch a hand. "He's the one who worked on Poppy's memories. If she ever revealed anything he's the troll who would know."
They were back on the streets and it was Riff's turn to ask about Poppy. Admittedly, she became a great friend. Living with them for years, sometimes she was the only one who would understand Riff's need for peace and quiet when an important test approached. It strengthened their bond when he asked to stay over to study.
"I'm glad she had a good friend." Branch half smiled, eyes glued to the ground.
Riff had walked into Poppy's apartment one day. Shoulders hurting from all the books he was carrying in his backpack. He did what he had always done: knocked and walked in. The door was always unlocked.
That day, he found Rob jumping off Poppy, sitting on the opposite side of the couch and looking ready to kill him on the spot.
"S-sorry… I didn't know you were here, Rob." Riff apologized, but dropped the heavy backpack on the ground anyway. Poppy quickly stood up to welcome him inside.
"Rob was just leaving." She said breathlessly and Riff recognized the scent of gin in her breath. "Do you have another test?"
"Monography, actually," Riff groaned, "Queen Barb keeps playing the guitar all day long and I have only a few weeks to finish before the presentation."
"Oh dear," Poppy was happy and she was tipsy. It was the first time Riff saw her like that. "You stay as long as you want. I'm sure Rob will love seeing you when he comes over," and she playfully elbowed her friend, "You may even taste one of his marvelous drinks. What's it called again?"
"Gin tonica." Rob replied, not half as amused as she was.
Poppy made a beeline to the kitchen, where Riff heard the fridge opening. Rob, seeing that she was going to take her time before returning to the living room, stood up and walked towards the door, bumping his shoulder with Riff.
"Maybe you should visit less often." Rob hissed, but with a smile that confused the other troll. He couldn't say if he was being serious. "Or at least call before coming inside. It could be even more embarrassing if you had arrived a few minutes later."
Riff, once again, walked inside the apartment Poppy rented. It was a few weeks after the accident with Rob, but Poppy had reassured him that he didn't have to knock; he was her friend, after all.
This time he caught Poppy drying a few tears before smiling broadly at him, like she usually did, to welcome him inside.
"What's wrong?" Riff asked, not hiding the fact that he had seen her crying, "Dude, you were happy a while ago." It worried him that she might be having mood swings and he had to report it to her doctor if it was the case.
"Oh, it's nothing, it's just…" A single tear ran down her cheek and she looked away, ashamed. Riff felt his heart start racing. Something wasn't right. "Do you think I'll ever get better?"
It took him off guard. He had no idea how to answer her because, in his opinion, she was perfectly fine. Aside from the fact that it wasn't safe for her to return home, there was nothing keeping her in Volcano Rock City.
"Do you mean… from anxiety?"
"I'm scared." Her voice broke and her knees buckled. Riff wasn't prepared to see her crying and he didn't catch her before she fell on the ground, crying. "I enjoy Rob's company and I'm scared I may lose him because…" Shame deepened her lines; tears ran down faster than before. "...I still think about Branch."
Riff didn't know what to say, so he did what a rock troll would do when facing emotional turmoil. He sat down and patted her back.
Dr. Leopold's office was closed. He had taken the weekend off and would be back on Monday. Branch loudly groaned, running his hands down his face.
"Leave a note inviting him to Trollstopia." Riff suggested, "I'm sure he'll go once he hears it concerns Poppy."
A week later, Dr. Leopold still hadn't replied to his note. Her neighbors and colleagues also chose to keep quiet. With a headache from so much frustration, Branch had decided to breathe a little and follow Poppy out of the bunker.
"I don't know what you're doing, but it's almost like the old Poppy is back." Smidge stood from a good distance from the volleyball game that was going on. Branch was right by her side with a smile plastered on his face, admiring how his wife was enjoying herself.
Aside from the black streak of hair - that he could swear was thinner now - it was like Poppy hadn't changed at all.
"If only she would want to stay."
Gasping at the voice behind them, Smidge quickly turned around, unlike Branch who only flared his nostrils and tightened his fist until his knuckles turned white.
"Eavesdropping isn't appreciated." Smidge said, crossing her arms.
"I'm sorry, but as Poppy's designated therapist and marriage inspector, everything that concerns her is of my interest." Creek smirked.
"Well, you obviously need to improve your observation skills." Smidge replied in annoyance. Poppy was happily hugging her team, who had lost the game, but had a lot of fun anyway. "She loves to be back."
"Then why doesn't she simply reclaim the throne?"
Branch's stomach sank.
He had thought a lot about it. While their relationship was improving like a fairy tale, it was true that Poppy didn't take her place back as Queen. He still had the title of Prince Regent.
Only two years to go and she could forever abandon them.
"From your silence I take I'm not at all wrong, am I, mate?"
Branch stood up, turning around to face Creek and ready to forget all the good manners he ever learned to engage in a fist fight with the guru. Smidge herself was surprised, almost jumping in between them to stop the fight before it even started.
"While her feelings are true," Creek continued, with the reassurance that he held the final decision in his hands, "so is the mistrust."
"Mistrust?" Branch was shaking with hate; his voice barely came out as a question.
"She can't take another disappointment in her life, Branch." The teal troll felt Smidge's hair pulling him back as Creek continued with his threat, "and you ooze betrayal from every pore."
"I would never- we've put it behind us!"
"Oh, I know so." Creek turned around, still with that knowing look of his. "While that kiss was forgiven and she never talked about anything else in our sessions… I assume she doesn't know everything?"
Branch froze in place. His will to fight suddenly evaporated. All he could focus on was Creek's smirk.
In slow motion, Poppy waved at them. The angelic smile on her face turned wider when she approached. Her lips connected to Branch's, lingering for a moment. She passed by him, giggling with the shyness that usually overcame her after a quick public display of affection.
She followed Creek to the privacy of his mushroom where they would have another session of therapy followed by meditation as the legal practitioner had established.
Branch's throat burned with the rising bile. Thank goodness Smidge didn't say a word, because he was blinded by rage.
Branch had to find the letters he had sent Poppy. He had to show her he never stopped caring. It was the only way to prove that he had been madly in love all those years.
And he had to tear one of those letters down before it was ever read.
"Would you like green tea?" Creek offered, pouring himself a cup.
"No, thanks." Poppy replied. She sat down on the yoga mat Creek had in the middle of his living room. After a year of weekly sessions, she got used to the routine, even if the uneasy feeling around the guru remained.
"Very well." Creek sat down in front of her and placed his steaming cup by his side. From his hair, he took two identical pieces of paper, wrapped in four parts and placed them directly in front of her. "This is a little game to read the energy around a certain subject." He explained, "You will tell me how you feel about each paper square. Whatever comes to your mind. You are allowed to take them in your hands or move them around, if you wish."
"Is there anything written on them?" Poppy asked curiously, inspecting the papers on the floor.
"Yes, but the contents are irrelevant now." Creek's upper lip twitched a little, as if he was trying to hold a self-satisfied smirk. "I just want you to tell me what comes to your mind when you focus on each one of them."
Skeptically, Poppy started at both paper squares. They were identical. They had the same shape, the same size, the same color. The left one was slightly off level when compared to the right one.
She focused on rearranging them so they both would be symmetrically aligned. But it didn't feel right. Something was off about them. They weren't supposed to be symmetrical; after all they didn't feel equal.
Poppy decided that, for some reason, she liked the left one better.
"I think I like the left one." She blurted out, still focused on the paper. Did Creek put it first on the floor? Because it felt like that paper was the main one. It came first.
"Why is that?" The guru calmly sipped on his tea.
"I don't know. It feels like it came first. I'm relating it to roots, I guess. Something strong." It was just a folded paper… and yet, she felt possessive towards it. "I care about it. A lot."
"And the position it is on the floor. Does it feel right where it is?"
"No." Poppy immediately answered. As a reflex, she took it in her hands so delicately that it was like holding a frail baby critter. She placed it right in front of her. "I want it close."
"Good. Focus on the second paper now, please."
They were identical, she rationally reminded herself, but because she had chosen a favorite, the second paper felt less important.
"I care about this one as well." Poppy frowned, feeling a slight discomfort when saying that. "But it's different. Like I'm pushing myself to like it. I mean, I do like it, but it feels… I'm a little bitter towards it."
She had to like them equally. They were pieces of paper, for Hair's sake! Why did she like one better? The shape was the same, the weight was the same.
"I'm feeling angry with the second one." Odd, but decidedly, Poppy pushed the paper up and put it behind the first one, like the first would block the second from interacting with her. "This is the most appropriate place for it."
Creek stared at her for a few seconds, then he looked at the papers she had rearranged.
"Are you done with them?" The guru asked. The pink girl hesitated for a moment, but nodded. "Good. Now, how do you feel about this one?"
With a swift move Creek took a third piece of paper from his hair and put it on the floor.
Poppy immediately frowned and pushed it away. So far away that she had to kneel up to slide it across the floor and out of reach.
"This one is as cute as the others, but it doesn't belong with them." The game was draining her out. She fought a yawn. "Actually, I feel like that one isn't important."
"Is that your final answer?"
"Yes."
Their eyes locked for a long moment. Creek seemed to want to dig into her soul for anything that was missed. Poppy stared back, defying him to figure her out.
"Unfold them, please."
Curiosity couldn't be helped and the former Queen quickly took the dearest one in her hands.
She bit her tongue, as if doing that would keep her sanity in place. The color drained from her face as soon as she read the name.
Branch.
Lost and confused, Poppy looked at the name for a while, wondering if what she felt towards that small piece of paper had been some of Creek's tricks.
The second paper made her furious.
Rob.
How dare Creek play with her feelings like that? Upset didn't cover the wave of anger that she started to feel. Therapy or not, the guru didn't have the right to make her speak out her feelings like that.
And it scared her how accurate those feelings were!
The third paper was almost forgotten. Moving closer, Poppy reached for it with little interest and frowned at the calmness her assaulter seemed to feel.
She unfolded the third paper.
Creek.
"What?" Poppy asked after a couple of seconds to recover from shock. "What's the meaning of this?"
"This…" Creek took the papers in his hands and hid them under the mat. "... is just an energy reading system. I wanted you to be truthful about how you feel towards the relationships you've had."
Angry and wishing to hurt Creek with her words, Poppy scoffed.
"It's no wonder I felt like the third paper didn't belong with the others. We've never had a relationship, Creek."
He stared at her in silence. The nerve-wrecking calmness around him made Poppy wish to stand up and leave, but the terms her father had left held her firmly in place.
"You know, as much as I do, that we had something." Unblinking, Creek kept his blank face. "I'm not snooping into your life, but merely studying a pattern you might have."
Poppy clenched her jaw. She was trapped.
"You allowed me to get close. I was by far one of your best friends." The tea cup was refilled. "I was sure we were going to be together."
"I thought you were cute." Her pink nose started aching, pre-announcing the tears that were on their way. "And I thought you cared about me, but I was obviously wrong since you betrayed us and showed no remorse."
"I understand you still haven't forgiven me for my spiritual awakening." The calm shifted. His hands firmly gripped the cup. "That's bad karma."
When was the torture going to be over? Poppy glanced at the blue sky outside, wishing to leave.
"So, I was right. Years ago, I figured you played with my feelings." Pink hair whipped around. Poppy's eyes quickly turned to the guru once more. Creek had his finger on top of the paper that represented Branch and he slid it towards her. "Like you said, he came first."
Her face hurt with the effort of keeping herself expressionless, but it was useless, wasn't it? She was an open book to Creek.
She knew she was pulled towards Branch since their childhood. Her endless efforts to get him to be her friend wasn't interpreted as love until realization hit her like a train years later, when they joined efforts to save their friends. Branch's company was warm and caring. Her knees turned to jelly when he smiled.
"You allowed me to fool myself hoping for more, when it was Branch you wished for all along." Creek slid another paper towards her. "You did the same to Rob, didn't you?"
Rob… she had a languishing feeling when she was with him during their engagement. He loved her, he cared for her, but she couldn't bring herself to get over Branch. Did she lead Rob on? Was she unfair to him?
"Your first husband was madly in love with you, Poppy, but even when you couldn't return his feelings, you still didn't speak the truth, did you? You let him go on believing your heart would be fully his one day."
"I didn't…" Thick tears blinded her. Creek became a watery paint in her sight, glistening with the wall of water that filled her eyes. She couldn't form a line to defend herself, because she believed he was right. He was spot on.
"You let trolls fall for you. You're endearing and it's easy to get admirers. You nurture them. You feed their dreams. I'm not saying you do it on purpose, but you're so self-centered you can't see beyond your own desire to be loved." He pushed the tea towards her and Poppy took a big gulp to wash away the saltiness in her mouth. "You're cruel."
"I'm not aware…" She sobbed more, noticing that she had spilled some hot liquid on her dress and it burned her skin. "You shouldn't say things like that… this is no therapy."
"Your feelings aren't of my concern." Creek returned to his blank state. "I represent Trollstopia. I'm here to make sure you won't burn down the village again."
Her throat hurt. Clotted words couldn't be swallowed and it started getting hard to breathe. Thank goodness she was sitting down, because she felt her body becoming liquid. She felt like all the strength and the will to fight for her honor was vaporizing.
"But this is one effective technique, if you're trying to make assumptions about my intentions with our section today." He took the tea from her limp hands and stood up. Looking down at what was left of her. "You should be aware of your shadows. If you face them - that's what I helped you do today - they won't control you anymore."
"I'm getting better…" Poppy shakily whispered, not being able to look into his eyes.
"I'm sure you are, but how strong will you be once you realize things may not be what they seem?" His lips curved upwards. "A girl's intuition is a strong weapon and I know you feel something is off about Branch."
"Branch…?" She weakly attempted to stand up, only to stumble and fall again.
"C'mon, Poppy. Rely on your instincts. You haven't reclaimed the throne because you want to keep an escape route open." He opened the door and Poppy finally managed to stand up.
"That's not true." She weakly crossed the threshold. The air outside was lighter. The sun was warm. "I love Branch."
"I know you love him. But you don't trust him completely."
