Mad Queen

Chapter One

Poppy woke up with a gentle caress on her arm. It had been a whole year since someone dared to walk inside the same room as hers. She closed her eyelids tightly and felt her eyes burning as a side effect from spending most of the night crying. She could still taste gin on her lips and cursed the headache that dared to appear as soon as she moved.

The offending red light from the volcano's lava entered her room through the dark curtains and the gray sky outside was the lighter shade it could be. It was morning already. A hot breeze moved the dry flowers that had been on her nightstand for ages.

"Queen Poppy, good morning." Nobody called her queen there, no one aside from Riff, who kept the royal treatment even when her own tribe had discarded it like a banana peel.

Oddly enough, the title seemed to repulse her now. She hated to be called like that. The freedom of a title-less life seemed to take away all the pain, the doubts and the memories of failure. Without a title, she had the opportunity to start anew. A whole new life, new games, new music style. Everything that hurt her was in the past, where her 'queen' vibe had been buried.

"Hey," Riff insisted, brushing a dark strand of hair out of her eyes, causing Poppy to grimace at him and turn around, hiding her pierced nose in the pillow. "I brought some painkillers for the headache," Poppy heard him saying and sighed in defeat, not being able to decide if he was a very good friend, or a very mean rock troll.

"Thank you." Poppy finally sat up, feeling her body heavy from the amount of drinking she had the night before. She took the pills down with a little water that remained inside a bottle that had been there for days.

"You're welcome." He smiled, raising his hat a little so she could see his eyes. He looked genuinely happy to see her, but the lines softened the next moment and his hair covered his soft blue irises once again. "Look, Queen Barb asked to fetch you."

"Hair…" Poppy ran her hands over her face with little patience. "I'm not ready for a jam section, yet."

"She is aware of that." Riff explained with a quieter tone, watching closely in case he needed to support Poppy. "… there's news… from Trollstopia."

The name of the city she created made Poppy's eyes widen in terror. Images from trolls screaming, lost children crying for their parents, adults chaotically running in circles and the smell of burnt wood still were fresh in her memories. For eight years she had tried to push the painful sequence of events away and they still plagued her when she wasn't alert.

Her therapist had suggested to avoid the subject until she was strong enough to talk about that night without hurting. Hearing that, Queen Barb immediately declared the subject of the burning of Trollstopia, and anything related to it, completely forbidden.

The ground in Volcano Rock City felt different under her toes. Poppy noticed it every time she crossed the streets to visit Barb. The pavement was always covered in ashes and often it was warm and soft. It was a small surprising pleasure she found when she was good enough to pay attention to those small daily details. Poppy also realized she loved digging her fingers in grains, so her trips to the market to buy food became a weekly routine. Peas were her favorites. There were no such things as the vast variation of berries, but there were other cultural delicacies she learned to love.

Poppy caught her reflection in the glass when she waited outside Barb's place. Riff instructed her to wait until everyone was shoo-ed out. The Queen needed privacy to discuss the matters at hand. It gave Poppy time to see the pink girl staring back at her through the window. Her skin was a bubblegum tone, slightly paler than the one she remembered. Her dark pink hair had naturally grown black strands that mixed with the original color. Her spiked hairband was the only thing that seemed to tame the wildness she had on top of her head.

Her ears were full of earrings - something that she grew to love - and they matched perfectly the loop on the right side of her nose. Her bright glitter freckles had disappeared after a year away from Pop culture, so the accessories seemed to fit.

The jeans skirt and black cropped top showed more skin than she was used to during her Queen days. On her right ankle, was the most daring change of all: a tattoo. Poppy decided to permanently mark her skin with a line from her favorite folk rock song, "how does it feel to be on your own, with no direction home, like a complete unknown, just like a rolling stone.' The neatly written letters went around her ankle, completing a full circle.

"Queen Poppy," Riff returned, opening the door for her. "I'll be outside, in case you need anything."

"Get Gin ready," Humorlessly, Poppy tried to joke, but Riff didn't laugh.

Queen Barb's home was similar to her motorhome (aka Anglerbus). Ripped couches, a throne, carpets, graffiti all over the walls and a big map of Troll's Kingdom designed on the floor. There was a fireplace at each corner, as if the warmth of the volcano wasn't enough. The walls were made with dark stones providing a constant howling wind that refreshed the atmosphere a little.

"Popsqueek." Barb surprised Poppy by rushing to her. The former queen wasn't used to seeing her friend looking so serious. Actually, when she was hugged in the sincerest way by the queen of Rock, Poppy knew something was devastatingly wrong. "I'm so… so sorry."

Poppy felt her knees giving out and both girls ended on the floor. The pink troll finally returned the hug, feeling her heart painfully thundering against her lungs, stopping them from taking a full breath.

There was a letter peeking out of Barb's back pocket. It was from Branch, addressed to the Queen of Rock. Poppy immediately knew that the news was grave and she'd need all the strength she had been working on with her therapist to take them with dignity.

'Don't black out. Please, don't black out.' Poppy repeated in her mind like a mantra.

"Poppy…" A known voice she held dearly in her heart made pink eyes immediately glance up. Light purple skin and bright purple hair couldn't be mistaken. Val Thundershock had returned, probably delivering the letter.

It was a routine the past years. Many trolls that had migrated to Trollstopia during her reign were returning home. As soon as they stepped back home, they were welcomed with the new law about not speaking about the magical city where all tribes lived in perfect harmony.

Many rumors were whispered by the outlaws, during a forbidden conversation that developed when they met their family and friends after a long journey. The words about a Prince Regent that had taken over the duty of restoring the city spread like feathers on the wind and eventually some of the facts reached Poppy's ears. The former queen never knew how to take the news: she was happy the city was under reconstruction, but she was crushed by sadness when she heard that it wasn't like it was before.

"Val!" Poppy cried out, reaching to hug her friend as well, missing her bestie like she never imagined to be possible.

"Gosh, Popsqueak, you look…" Val saw Barb raising a warning eyebrow at her over Poppy's shoulder and immediately completed her sentence with the most positive way she could improvise. "...different."

"What brings you here?" the former queen managed to ask, ignoring the comment on her looks like she did since she arrived.

Val looked at Barb for backup, but by the way she was biting the tip of her fingers, it showed the rock leader was as lost about how to approach the subject as her.

"Poppy…" and with a sign, Val finally said the truth. "King Peppy passed away."

The pink girl looked down at her feet. It wasn't something hard to imagine. Her dad was old and she feared it would come a day when he would be gone before she was mentally stable enough to return. It had been eight years after all.

So… the goodbye hug he gave her before she left for the clinic had been the last one. She didn't know it then or she would have said how much she loved him. Poppy had a hunch she was seeing her dad for the last time, but she thought she was the one gravely ill and wouldn't make it back.

"Was he sick?" Poppy asked with a small voice. Her feet looked odd and glistened with the blinding tears that filled her eyes. The droplets fell on her toes before she could stop them. The smallest comfort she could hope for was that her dad didn't suffer.

"No," Val took her hand and guided her to a couch on the corner. Queen Barb had placed a glass of water there in case Poppy needed it. "He went peacefully in his sleep. Branch found him in the morning when delivering breakfast. He said he was smiling."

It was a small consolation to take in the middle of the storm she was dropped in. Her dad had been a great King. The best the Pop Trolls could ask for. The courageous ruler who led the Escape of the Bergens. Her dad was a hero.

Hiding her face in her hands, Poppy sobbed in a mix of pride for her dad's incredible life and anguish that she wasn't able to say goodbye.

"I wish…" Barb said, taking the letter from her pocket. "... I could say you can stay as long as you want, but you are required back immediately."

Poppy looked up in astonishment. Val bit her lower lip to hold her anxiety back.

"There are royal conditions that need to be followed." Barb explained, "this is your choice only, but your dad left instructions," The queen of rock stopped her statement and softened her eyes to the pink girl who was dumbly staring back at her, "I'm sorry I must rush through this at this moment, but it's urgent." Poppy ping-pong-ed a glance to Val before returning to Barb, who was still reading the letter, "you must return to Trollstopia and take your place as Queen. The Prince Regent doesn't have Royal blood so he can't claim the throne."

"So?" Poppy blinked. Her head was fuzzy. She had only learned about her father's death and now she was supposed to take the throne? And make choices? Her choice certainly was never to go back there. "They can change dynasties for all I care."

"Here's the problem, Poppy." Val cut in, kneeling in front of her friend with the gentlest stare she had ever seen. "The only way to change dynasties is through an elective monarchy. The problem is that… There aren't many candidates and the qualifications vary from bad to worse. I wouldn't be here begging you to go back if we were facing a better scenario."

Poppy couldn't believe her ears. All trolls in Trollstopia were fit to rule. All her friends were amazing and each had an endearing quality that would help the city grow stronger than before.

"The one who is winning, according to the latest polls, is Creek."

Another blow to the stomach being delivered by words made Poppy's day start to match the two worst days of her life. Creek was the only troll who couldn't rule. He was the only one she knew to be a back-stabber and even if she had accepted him back when they were still a small Pop Village, she had never trusted him again. He wouldn't wave a second to think about his friends if he had to save his own skin.

The Prince Regent was bad enough, Poppy heard. He focused on restoring the city as fast as he could. There were rumors Fuzzlings passed out from hard work and trollstopians were forced to cut short their activities to help rebuild.

But eight years had passed and each day the dream city seemed to become a nightmare. Surveillance cameras were everywhere. Strict rules about games and parties frustrated the tribes. A curfew was established so there could be night patrols.

A great part of the forest was consumed by fire and only after many years the green had grown bigger than the ashes. The predators returned, hungrier than ever, and the unsuspecting tribes were disputed by animals that wanted to eat them.

Poppy heard the perimeter was circled by a wall with an electrified fence and the only way to get in or out was through a steel door that was heavily guarded. It made sense trolls were leaving.

"If you want to make the Prince Regent official, the only way is marrying him"

"Marrying him…" Poppy sighed in defeat. Looking up, she saw the fire in the candles slowly dying. She was always fascinated by Barb's taste in medieval decor. "It's not a bad idea. I marry him, he becomes King and I leave."

"You see… the Royal Rules are clear. It must be a real wedding. There will be a legal practitioner that will verify the veracity of the marriage from time to time and you cannot divorce him before three years of living under the same roof." Queen Barb read the instructions left by King Peppy.

"I can't believe my dad thought this through." The frustration made her kick a vase at the corner. Gosh, since she had been living in Volcano Rock City she understood what an anger relief it was to destroy things to get herself together. "This is my life. He had no right…"

"Ah...since he was the King, he had the right." Val pointed out, "But Poppy… it may not be so bad."

How could Val say it wasn't so bad? Her heart was thumping painfully at the mere thought of returning to her birth home. Everything she was running away from, everything that hurt her. Everybody she hurt. She wasn't ready to face them.

But she owed them a decent ruler, didn't she?

"There must be a way out." Poppy ignored Val's comment and returned to Barb, who was flipping the pages from King Peppy's instructions, reading them over and over. "Like, my therapist didn't say I'm cured. They won't accept a mad queen back."

"Poppy…" Barb looked at her friend in a condescending way, "you never had anything. You insist on therapy, but aside from an eventual anxiety attack, you're completely fine."

"That's an irresponsible statement." Poppy stood up abruptly, looking in bewilderment at her friends. "I cannot grasp what happened that day. I must keep the treatment until it's safe to say it won't happen again."

"Popsqueak…" Val crossed her arms over her chest and looked away, "running away doesn't solve things. But your dad left you a choice. You can deliver Trollstopia to Creek on a silver plate or you can return. The decision is up to you."

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Gin wasn't enough that night. Poppy poured the liquid down her lips straight from the bottle and still she wasn't numb enough. The pain of her father's departure didn't seem to be fully felt when frustration by the rules he made obliterated any happy ending she could hope for.

Her bedroom in the building she chose to live in a couple of years ago had a few decorative items that showed her Pop origins. A smile could always paint her lips whenever she saw the rainbow night lamp, or when she laid her eyes on the cupcake puzzle she had on the wall.

A knock on the front door made her frown. She wasn't in the mood for visitors, but the only troll who actually knocked was Riff. Poppy could never say no to him. It was good she was organized and kept her place clean, because she struggled with her anesthetized body to unlock the door.

"Hey," his smile was filled with consideration and he didn't mention how drunk she was, but he did close the door and helped her to the couch. "I thought you could use a friend."

"I do…" Poppy rubbed her burning eyes. "... I've made my decision. It hurts, but I need to go back."

Riff stared at the motorcycle trophy on the shelf and next to it was an empty photo frame with a broken glass. He returned to look at Poppy who was now staring at the same spot as he was

"I'll donate these." Her voice was emotionless and Riff pressed his lips together.

"If you still have emotions attached to his things-"

"No," Poppy interrupted with ultimate resolution, "I'll never move on if I keep them. I do not want to mourn forever."

"What do you plan to do, then?" Riff felt Poppy going stiff. She didn't want to talk, maybe she hadn't really thought this through, but he desperately wanted her to be aware of the decision she was making.

"This is strictly business." Poppy's voice grew cold, like she was explaining a math problem. "I'll go there, fix this mess my dad put me into, then I'll come back. Or maybe I'll move to Vibe City. I don't know, yet."

"You know. Sometimes I envy your determination." Riff wasn't joking. Poppy's will often made him question the way he led his own life. He wasn't half as persistent. "But I meant Rob's things. Are you taking nothing with you? You guys loved each other so much."

"I loved him." Poppy answered coldly. "But we both know his feelings weren't real, so… it's time to end this chapter of my life."

Riff decided it was smart to keep silent. Poppy was still struggling with the truth and perhaps time and distance was the best medicine for her heart to heal.

The odd part of it all was that Poppy seemed to have a pattern that was following her in the last eight years. It started with the tragedy of Trollstopia. She barely had time to understand what had happened before she needed to leave.

Then there was Rob. They fell in love after much insistence on his part. Poppy resisted him to the last drop of strength she had, but once she gave in, they had the most fervent romance of Volcano Rock City. He was known to protect her like a guard and he shielded her from every news that came from her home.

Until he died on his way to a motorcycle race in the mountains. Poppy was crushed by the news and Queen Barb tried to hide the truth behind the accident, but Riff was the one to convince his queen nothing good could come out of a lie. In the end, he was the one who told Poppy her beloved Rob died with his mistress.

She didn't have the time to mourn her partner before she learned he wasn't truthful. Poppy couldn't be sad when anger raised a destructive feeling inside her. Her heart shut down like a cold stone.

And now her dad. With his death came the news she was called back on business. She wouldn't have time to settle the feelings before she needed to dedicate herself to Royal duty.

Riff could feel how exhausted she was.

"I can fly you to Trollstopia, if you wish." Riff offered. "I can even talk to Branch-"

"He doesn't need to know all the details, Riff" Poppy wasn't looking forward to seeing the troll she had loved most in the world. It was for his lack of support that she was in that situation in the first place. The pain of his rejection still stung. In the most vulnerable moment of her life, when she spilled the confusing truth out of her lips, he just turned around with little patience. He coldly pointed out all the evidence that spoke against her.

Poppy took Branch's words for real. She had a problem, but she wanted to have support. A warm and caring support to go through the challenge that unfolded before her. So, she left without saying goodbye to him. She hugged her dad and walked towards the only place she could think of.

She hadn't spoken to Branch since; even if she knew he kept sending letters to Barb, she never asked the contents. It didn't matter. Poppy didn't intend to return then.

"Actually, I prefer he hears only what is strictly necessary. It's not like things will change."

Riff wanted to tell Poppy to open her heart, that Branch had made a mistake as big as hers. The survivalist had been worried sick about her through the years and he weekly inquired about her mental conditions. He still hoped his cute pink queen would have a majestic return and he was there to welcome her with open arms.

"I'll take you there tomorrow, then." Riff stood up, looking down at Poppy who seemed lost and small. "Are you sure you want to marry the Prince Regent?"

"No…" Poppy curled up on the couch, feeling her eyes burning once again. "But Branch is an old friend. I'm sure we can play it out."

A/N: Yes! A new story and I know you all are confused. I can't wait to read all the comments about this one. Yes, it is canon. I won't update it as regularly as Tales of Trollstopia because this is the first time I'm posting a chapter without having a second one ready. Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy this story.