"... and while I appreciate you helping Poppy through the years, I'd like to know if you could return the scrapbooks Poppy left there."

Sincerely,

Branch"

Properly sealed, Branch stared at the letter to Queen Barb for a while. Did he sound like he was accusing her of keeping Poppy's scrapbooks? Did he sound angry or impolite in any way that wouldn't indulge the queen of rock to collaborate?

The trapdoor swung open and Branch quickly hid the letter in his hair, pretending he was just sipping on coffee when his wife walked inside.

She was in a dark mood and he could sympathize. Creek was never easy on her.

"Do you want coffee?" Branch calmly offered.

"Gin sounds more appropriate."

Branch pressed his lips together, forming a thin line. It upset him when she mentioned alcohol.

"I'd rather you don't sink into your drinking habit."

"Cool." She tried to sound like she didn't care, but the pause she took said more than the words themselves. "I'm taking a nap, then."

She was careful not to slam the door.

The small critter with a postman's hat happily waved at Branch, accepting the task to deliver the letter to Queen Barb. In gratitude, the survivalist offered a small piece of bread that the critter happily accepted before flying off.

Poppy was still sleeping, so Branch decided to focus on work. With a fresh cup of coffee in his hands, he unlocked the screens to observe how the city was doing.

Smidge was talking to Biggie. Guy Diamond was posing for Harper's art class. Cooper was laughing at someone who had made a toffee version of him. Rock trolls were playing in Hard Rock Hollow. Branch bitterly watched them having fun and turned to another screen where he caught sight of the mail-critter who was cheerfully taking the letter to Volcano Rock City.

It smiled in determination, preparing to fly above the wall and the electrified fence when another critter, a green one, intercepted him.

Angrily at his frustrating mission, the mail-critter flew after the green one, trying to get the letter back. But it seemed the rogue critter was intentionally taking shortcuts among the trees, twisting leaves and changing heights to dismiss the first one.

"Unbelievable." Branch groaned in frustration. Of all things, now he had to watch out for critters who thought it was funny to steal letters. Thankfully, the cameras were arranged to form a grid to fully monitor every corner of the city. It was easy following the green critter from screen to screen.

But as the survivalist followed the outlaw, his eyes narrowed even more. The curious frown became deeper as his suspicions were raised at the path that was taken.

The green critter happily entered Creek's mushroom, causing Branch to jump from his chair, knocking it on the floor.

Flabbergasted, he saw as Creek met the critter and the letter with surprise. He quickly glanced at the camera before closing the door behind him.

Two minutes later, the green critter left the mushroom through a window and returned the letter to the mail-critter.

Infuriated, the small bug turned around and left to complete its job.

Blurs of green; fists shaking with rage. No, not just rage. It was a homicidal impulse. Trolls didn't have that in them, or so they were raised to believe. Perhaps no troll ever felt anger escalating to the point of murdering someone. They were taught not to fight their enemies so trolls' instincts were to run and hide, but Branch wasn't running or hiding from the back-stabbing guru. Oh no. He was going to use all his wits to unmask and humiliate him to the point of having him begging for mercy.

His calculated plan included punctuality. Branch checked his Hug Watch to make sure Creek was still in the middle of a yoga class before breaking the front door of Creek's mushroom with a kick, not caring if he was seen, and going straight for drawers and vaults.

Being an exceptional troll when it came to construction, it didn't take Branch long to find a chamfered wall oddly thick. Years of building and improving his own home and then leading contractors all over the city sharpened his eyes for flaws and unnecessary decoration elements. So, with a hammer, he had in his hair and a swift move, the wall was torn down, revealing a collection of papers and scrapbooks.

Branch recognized the colorful letters instantly. A waterfall of feelings washed over him. Pride for being right, shame for being deceived so easily, sadness for knowing that Poppy was kept in the dark for eight years, but it was the fury that made him grab the letters, hide them in his hair and wait until Creek had returned to confront him.

Exposing the guru was going to taste so sweet, Branch could already envision him leaving Trollstopia.

The noise of a critter's wing was quickly approaching and Branch braced himself. Creek smiled kindly at his bug friend and gave him a cookie for taking him home while he meditated along the way.

Creek halted when he saw his door broken. He slowly followed the footprints on the ground until he saw Branch. Behind the survivalist, the torn wall and exposed secrets caused the guru to blank for a few seconds. The Prince Regent flipped the hammer on his hand, giving Creek a preview of the kind of punishment he had in mind.

"Years of letters…" Branch whispered with hate, stepping towards Creek. "Years reading the secrets I shared with Poppy…" The guru took a step back, looking from the hammer to Branch's eyes. "Keeping us apart on purpose…"

"What are you going to do?" Creek recovered his superior attitude, confronting Branch, even though an eye twitch indicated he was nervous about the situation; "I can tell everyone you're faking your marriage, you know."

"Like I care what you have to say."

"Would you care if…" Creek pointed at the wall, "... I told Poppy about your girlfriend?"

The hammer fell on the floor, destroying a couple of wooden boards.

"Or…" Creek smirked, realizing he was going to win. "... should I tell everyone how the Prince Regent believes his wife burned down the city and still welcomed her back with open arms?"

Branch wanted to scream, to tear Creek apart limb by limb. The guru had architected that plan from the start, causing the happy royal couple to fall right into it.

Rage.

The trapdoor opened and Poppy glanced up from the oven to welcome her husband home. Her mood had improved considerably after the nap and she decided to bake him a blueberry pie to make up for the lack of talking earlier.

The elevator moved down. Poppy squealed internally, placing the last cherry on top of the cream that she had managed to equilibrate on the hot goodness. She hoped it was a good apology, after all, she also wanted to prove she was a nice wife to Branch.

"Branch, dear, I made yo-"

Poppy's happy smile turned into a terrifying silent scream. The shock of seeing his hands covered in blood and muddy face made her voice disappear and she could swear her soul left her body for a second.

"Oh, Hair!" Barely, recovering, Poppy stepped towards him, arms opened. Branch looked like he was about to collapse.

And so he did, as soon as he felt her soft skin embracing him, his knees gave out, taking Poppy to the ground with him.

"I need to take you to doctor Moonbloom. You're seriously hurt." Poppy tried to take a good look at him, but he slowly slid down, burying his face in her stomach, where it was safest to hide. He started sobbing uncontrollably, to her despair.

He wouldn't speak. He was unable to mutter a single word to her.

"Branch!" She shook his shoulders. "Please, talk to me."

He wailed like a child. It wasn't the cry of someone who was in deep physical pain. Poppy's fright lessened a little, giving room to more sensible thoughts.

She scanned him with her eyes. His hands were bloodied. The skin was raw around the knuckles, indicating he had gotten hurt by punching something. Or someone.

His face was dirty, and so were his clothes on the front. A full frontal fall was compatible with his state.

The cries faded to silent sobs. His breathing slowly became deeper.

His beautiful cerulean hair was tangled, falling on the sides. Poppy spotted a hammer and one of the usual traps he carried around between the thick locks.

Colorful papers. A whole stack of letters tied with a small cord was right in the middle of his warm hair.

The pink girl frowned before reaching to grab them.

"To Poppy," they were all addressed to her.

Only a month before the wedding and a plate shattered on the floor in the middle of a fight. Poppy stood frozen in place, noticing that Rob had done it on purpose - on impulse due to his overwhelming frustration, but on purpose anyway.

"Seriously, Poppy?" The ripped piece of paper was just under her nose. The proof of what she was doing was there, ruined, torn apart, and dangerously quivering in his hands.

"It's just a letter." Her voice was small, mousy, she almost didn't recognize herself.

"To Branch!" Rob accused.

Honestly, she didn't think it was a big deal to Rob. She had to tell Branch she was giving up on him. She had the decency to inform him that she was moving on. It was the least she could do to start the marriage right. Rob had accepted her even though she refused to say she loved him back.

"To inform him I'm choosing you." Poppy replied. Angrily, she wiped the tears from her face, seeing that her honesty didn't make Rob less angry.

"So noble of you." Rob marched to the door. "While I'm working my ass off to give you a place to live you write to your ex!"

"You're having an exaggerated reaction." It was just a simple letter. Nothing about missing him was mentioned. Nothing about her heart being ripped apart by Branch's cold distance. It was just an informative letter.

"It's not about marriage is it?" Rob opened the door and stepped outside. "The reason you're not allowing me to touch you is that you still think he will come riding a white horse and save you."

"Rob, you're being ridi-"

" Well, you're being a bitch."

"Honestly," Poppy raised her voice, prepared to defend herself. "I had a life before you-"

"Yeah? A life you burned to ashes!"

He slammed the door and disappeared.

Poppy felt her knees giving out, nearly falling on the shattered glass on the floor, she felt tears wetting her face while she felt nothing but a wave of uncontrollable anger towards her fiance.

All that because of a letter? He had no right to accuse her. She had done nothing wrong and she felt nothing but gratitude towards him.

A letter shouldn't offend him so much, should it?

Was she really so self-centered she was hurting him without noticing?

The last Poppy wanted was to be ungrateful to the only troll who had stayed by her side. So she gave up writing Branch.

Three days later Rob came back, hugging her, kissing her, and saying how sorry he was. He couldn't stop being jealous because he loved her so much.

His eyes cracked open with difficulty. Branch had a sensation his eyelids were full of sand and they painfully stung. Darkness was everything he could see at first.

A small light coming from his left got his attention and his whole body hurt in protest at his attempt at turning his head to see where he was.

Poppy was sitting down on his armchair, concentrating on a pile of papers in front of her.

He tried to call her, but his throat burned and nothing but a whimper came out.

It was when he noticed he had been cleaned. His body felt fresh, his pajamas warmed him and his hands had been properly attended to. They were also immobilized, feeling swollen and tender.

"Thank Hair, you're awake." Turning his pulsing head again, he saw that Poppy had approached. Her eyes were filled with tears, one hand tightly clutched her robe. "I was so worried."

"Sorry," his voice came out raspy and he used his elbows to take the impulse to half sit up on his bed.

Towels with blood were all over the floor and so were the medicine box with antiseptics and gauzes.

"I'll go get you some water," she put another pillow behind his back. "Are you hungry? I baked some pie."

His lips were dry, meaning he was dehydrated and food also sounded like a necessity. Branch lost track of time and he would need his strength to heal.

Poppy left the room quietly. Branch saw the hammer and his traps on the floor.

Hair… he could have killed Creek.

But instead, he frantically punched a tree trunk until his body gave out.

He wasn't proud of his violent behavior, but it was an effective kind of anger management.

"I'll help you. I think you have a broken finger." Poppy returned with a tray that smelled heavenly. Branch wasn't hungry until that moment.

First, she offered him some water.

Branch watched her. She was apprehensive, pale, with dark circles under her eyes.

"Did someone hurt you?" She asked.

He had just taken the first bite of pie and shook his head as an answer. Hair… she was scared.

"Did you… hurt someone?"

And once again, he shook his head. Some of the tension left then. She sighed in relief.

"What happened?" Since she returned, it wasn't like Poppy to be inquisitive but an explanation, for the amount of worry she went through in the last hours, was the least he could offer.

"I let out some anger in a tree." It ashamed him, but he still didn't have the time to think about Creek, the letters, or how Poppy and himself had played right into the guru's hands.

Poppy accepted his answer. She nodded and placed another piece of the pie in his mouth. Quietly, she fed him, with a frown that deepened with each passing minute. Branch guiltily watched her.

"Is it a burden to you?" She asked out loud like the question escaped her thoughts. Not really making sense. "Being Prince Regent, I mean."

Hair, yes. It was a burden. He fantasized about waking up one day with the weight of the crown gone. And Poppy seemed to read his mind.

"I'll make your life easier then."

Dear Poppy,

I can't even begin to describe the admiration I feel for your position as Queen now.

Four months as Prince Regent and I'm going insane with the little time I have left for myself. I can't remember the last time I sat down to go through my ration inventory or merely enjoyed two hours of a simple hundred-piece puzzle.

I can't believe how easy you made it look.

I'm also hoping you'll be back soon. We're nearly done repairing the Fun Dungeon. I think you will like a couple of upgrades I made.

Being a leader is a big burden, but I'll do it for as long as I need to. For you.

Honestly, I miss you. I miss talking to you. I miss your voice and your warm hugs.

Once again, I'm sorry. I love you and I hope to see you soon.

Love, Branch

The survivalist knew exactly what letter she was reading when he interrupted her by waking up. It was the only letter he used 'burden' to describe his feelings towards the crown.

"You're reading the letters…" Branch pointed out, a little edgy and glancing at the pile she was going through.

"I found them in your hair," Poppy blushed, giving him a glimpse of the cuteness she had been hiding since she returned, "they were meant for me, so…"

"Yeah…" his hands were pulsing with pain. The rush of blood pumping faster seemed to make them even tender.

"The anger management with the tree…," it wasn't comfortable talking about anything that resembled violence, "is it because of the letters?"

"I found them." Branch nodded, ashamed of his behavior and still not sure if he should tell her the circumstances in which he found them.

Oddly enough, Creek still had the final decision in his hands.

"I'm sorry you never got them." And he was mostly sorry about how he blamed her for the lack of response. He remembered he wrote some mean words in a couple of letters accusing her of being cold-hearted.

"I got them now," her smile brightened his mood a little, "I will read every single one, I promise."

"You don't have to."

"But I will. I want to understand your feelings while I was gone." She wanted to know what he went through and even though the letters were meant for her, now he regretted them deeply.

"How are your hands?" Poppy's gaze followed his movements, finding his fingers curling involuntarily.

"They feel swollen." Branch answered sincerely. She was right. He probably had a couple of broken fingers.

"Finish your meal, then" without waiting for him to agree, she put another piece of pie in his mouth. "I'm taking you to doctor Moonbloom."

Poppy was wearing the black nightgown he loved underneath the robe, so she turned around to find proper clothes to go to the clinic. Strategically, Branch got dressed before she did and left their bedroom. His beloved wife took her time, opening the wardrobe, and looking for her favorite blue dress.

She didn't notice when he went to the letters, picked a blue envelope, and put it inside his hair once again.

When she was ready, she flashed him her toothy smile and he melted. No broken fingers stopped him from walking to her, delicately cupping her cheeks with his palms and placing a fierce kiss on her lips.

It turned out, that his fingers weren't broken, but he had damaged the joints quite severely. A whole week with an immobilized hand made him swear he would control his temper. It wasn't the first time he had hurt himself during a nervous breakdown, but it was the first time Poppy had witnessed the results.

It mortified him.

When he was a young troll in isolation, breaking things felt like an instantaneous emotional outlet and he felt good until he had to clean the bunker by himself.

Then there was a time when he nearly lost his mind over a puzzle piece. Not only Poppy, but other friends had witnessed his weakness.

They all had accepted it.

But Branch hadn't. He promised himself he wouldn't have another episode like that, but that idiotic Creek was playing with his mental limits. He was pushing him over the edge day after day.

"There you go," Dr. Moonbloom finished removing the bandages from his hand and asked him to move his fingers to try the sensation. It hurt, but Branch was expecting it. He'd need to exercise his fingers so they would be completely healed. "Good. Now hurry. Off you go. I need to attend to another patient before the Morning Speech."

Branch was practically pushed out of the room. The next patient was standing right there. With a swollen nose and a black eye.

So Branch did punch Creek a little. Not as much as he wished, but he did.

"Healing fine, I see." Branch snickered and Creek swallowed up the nasty words he wanted to say. As Dr. Moonbloom was their witness, he wouldn't flash a glimpse of his true nature.

"Everyone! I would like your attention for a minute." Poppy's voice came from outside the clinic's pod, startling both males.

"Oh, jeez. It's the announcement." The doctor ran to the window, looking down to the mushroom where Poppy used to have her speeches. Branch peeked outside, standing next to the doctor, while Creek did the same.

"Thank you for coming," Poppy looked nervous. It was the first time she came forward in front of a crowd for a speech in a long time. Singing in a bar was easier now, Branch thought. "I'm here to set things right."

Her eyes ran from troll to troll, as if she was studying them or looking for someone specific. The survivalist hadn't informed her about his visit to the doctor, so she didn't look up.

"Today is the anniversary of my return," her voice got stronger as she went on, "and I felt so loved and so welcomed by all of you that I thought… it's about time to be fair with the one troll who sacrificed himself the most to show me how much he loves me." Branch's heart picked up the pace and he lifted one eyebrow. "I'm here to reclaim the throne."

Blinded by love and tongue-tied. A breeze ruffled his hair.

Branch was unaware of a doctor smiling at him while over her shoulder, a certain Guru fixed his gaze at his new Queen.

It was a check, but not checkmate.

Poppy lifted her eyes to the lounge room when the elevator stopped moving. She was exhausted. She sang and danced until the stars came out.

Her husband was standing in the middle of the room with her crown in his hands.

"You kept it…" it wasn't a question.

"I knew you would come back." A dozen expressions crossed his face but the single one Poppy could read was love.

He hadn't joined the party. He was too overwhelmed to mix with other trolls and Poppy could tell. The lines of his familiar face, so perfect and unique, invited her to touch him.

She knew she had surprised him. Maybe she should have explained her intentions, but it was the kind of announcement she wanted to make just once.

Returning to her royal position meant she wasn't planning on leaving anymore and, more than taking the weight off his shoulders, it was the most solid demonstration of love Poppy had shown him since she crossed the gates.

"So… you're staying…" Branch needed to be sure. His glassy eyes were clouded with unshed tears. It wasn't a three-year arrangement anymore.

"I'm planning to." She bit her lower lip in embarrassment. "If you want me to."

Their lips connected as he placed the crown on her hair. His arms slid down, wrapping around her waist and pulling her close with that warm sensation it caused each time he did that. She exhaled into the kiss, taking it as a prize she had won.

"I'll dismantle the surveilance room." Branch readily said, "You rule your own way and-"

"No. Keep it, please." Her eyes fell on a spot on his chest. "It would be… safer."

While she trusted Branch with her body and soul, she still didn't trust herself. If she ever would. The cameras, the screens, and fun badges could be useful in case she lost herself to the monstrosity that habited in her. If she ever had another rage episode, her husband would stop her.

Branch nodded, in silent understanding. The motion of his head unnoticeably pushed the blue letter out of his hair. It silently fell on the floor, in the middle of the carpet behind them.

Poppy stepped on her tiptoes and kissed him again. She couldn't remember if she ever had to reach up to kiss him before, but it was like that now. The comfort of his embrace, the intimate way in which he held her against him while he back-walked her into their room was the routine she wanted to keep in her life.

The feverish kisses he trailed down her body, slowly undressing her, was the nightly ritual she wanted to melt into for the rest of her life. There was only Branch and Poppy, husband and wife, simply dedicated to loving each other and leaving everything that wasn't compatible behind.

"If only I had known…" Poppy lazily said, caressing his damp hair as he caught up with his breath, "that you're the only truthful thing in my life I'd never have left."

He held his breath for a second and a hot puff of air was felt on her sweaty bosom.

"You were always sincere." Poppy had recently read a letter that he had sent after two years she was away. He was angry, he was frustrated and he wrote some hurtful things. It didn't make her appreciate him less, on the contrary, her admiration grew when he kept writing even though he thought he was being ignored.

"You are fateful." She concluded, kissing his forehead. "And you believe in me even when I stopped believing in myself."

"Poppy…" Branch probed himself up on his elbows, looking at her deeply as if trying to reach her soul. He hesitated. "I have to-"

"Honestly, you need to learn to close the door, mate."

Poppy screamed, Branch threw the covers on both of them and muttered a few curse words.

"I'm sorry, Queen Poppy." They heard Hal's voice just outside the door. "It's our mistake, we'll be back short-"

"Oh no, Hal, it's always like this. They'll come out in a few." Creek said, sounding like he couldn't care less about the moment he just ruined.

"I swear that little-" Branch growled, the vibration of his voice tickling Poppy's neck. He peeked from under the covers to see the door closed. The blanket was thrown off and he sat down, fuming.

"Hey," Poppy placed a hand on his shoulder and smiled, "He deserved that punch."

"Well, I'm offended." Poppy crossed her arms, sulking on Branch's armchair.

Hal and Creek shared a look before the attorney placed a contract in front of the Queen. The bathrobe slipped to the side, revealing a naked shoulder, which made Branch quickly pull it back in place since she didn't seem to notice.

"It's a mere formality, your highness." Hal adjusted his glasses, "While I'm a witness that your marriage is valid, Creek says your energy still isn't compatible."

"But I just reclaimed the throne. We shouldn't have to go through marriage validation anymore." Poppy insisted.

"While your love for Branch is genuine," Creek spoke, joining his palms in a namaste position, "I'm afraid you reclaimed the throne in the heat of the moment, so I made a suggestion to Hal,"

The lawyer loosened his collar.

"To keep monitoring you for at least six more months. If you prove you're stable enough you shall be crowned… legally."

"She's stable!" Branch stood up and Poppy placed a gentle hand on his leaf vest to hold him back. "She's our rightful leader, what you are doing is dishonest!"

"Dishonesty would be keeping facts..." Creek's words dripped with venom, as much as his nose had dripped with blood when Branch punched him the week before. "... from someone who just made a life decision based on partial information."

"What are you talking about?" Poppy slightly frowned, trying to make some sense out of the debate that was happening in front of her.

"Nothing," Branch held her close, placing a small kiss on the side of her head where the scar was brightly evident. "He just wants to mess with us."

Her eyes bore into his. Frightened that there was something she was missing. Branch slowly nodded reassuringly, holding her hand firmly on his.

"She's our Queen." Branch said, strong and sure.

"Good." Hal clicked a pen, lending it to the royal couple, "it's just six more months. It will be quick."

"The safety of the kingdom comes first, mate," Creek smirked. "I know you agree with that."

Unknown to Branch, the guru stood up to leave, taking a blue envelope with him when he left the bunker.