"Did I do it, dad?" Poppy leaned against her father. He had taken her to his pod, where she changed from her bloodied clothes in confusion. His old body made an effort to support her weight as he helped her away from the fire. "I'm so dizzy."

"My baby girl," King Peppy stopped at the edge of the forest. The dark forest was humid. The fire wouldn't spread in that direction at least not for many hours. "You must run. Seek help at Volcano Rock City."

"Run?" Poppy muttered in confusion. "So I did it, didn't I?" Just like Branch had said, she added mentally.

"I can't tell. No one can tell." He whispered urgently, wrapping his arms around his child to take a full breath of her scent. He wanted to memorize her. "Run. As fast as you can."

The sun peered through the trees. Pink eyelids slowly moved before opening completely. She blinked a couple of times. White ceiling, aseptic walls, and an annoying beeping at her side.

Her chest hurt. She tried her fingers a few times, closing and opening them. They felt like they always did. Turning her attention to her toes, she wiggled them, then tested her knees.

Everything was fully functional.

Slowly, the memories of the reason why she was sitting inside the hospital pod came to her. The tension, Creek's confession, the way he turned his back and let her sink into the chilly water.

So it wasn't the end, Poppy thought bitterly. She pulled the blankets away and stood up. Her body felt sore. Her muscles ached in protest and just barely she was able to stand on her feet.

Everything was silent like every troll life had disappeared and it was just her and the critters now.

It wouldn't be so bad, she thought. At least fauna didn't lie, didn't omit information, and didn't disappoint her. It didn't hate her.

She didn't belong in the city anymore. Confessing or not, sane or not, Poppy's will to stay in Trollstopia was ripped from her. Unlike the first time when she went away, fully intending to return, this time she only hoped the distance would manage to breathe in some will to live.

Through the window, she saw a vast amount of trolls, all gathered in front of the speech mushroom, waiting with grave silence.

Poppy shook her head and put on her blue dress, being the only one within reach. She had few belongings with her, just like when she stepped through the gates. And now, confessing in front of everyone what she did, it felt like she should take nothing with her. Convicted, confessed criminal. She should be banished from such a beautiful place.

Hal Dulugh was the first to climb up the mushroom. Poppy glanced quickly at him while she buttoned up her dress.

"Thank you all for coming at such a grave moment," Hal didn't have the training to speak in public. His voice came out with a choke that made Poppy smile sympathetically at him. "But we were on the verge of having our queen back when things drastically changed, so Creek agreed to step up and speak a few words of order."

"It's with my deepest condolences that I stand here today," Creek took a step forward. Poppy brushed her hair and approached the window, looking at him, doing his best sad-face act. "We were finally exposed to the truth of the fateful fire that took many of our friends years ago. Let's not hold a grudge against our beloved Queen, since her mental condition prevented her from acting sensibly."

Her lack of sympathy towards what Creek was saying proved she indeed had turned off the caring button. Let them think what they wished. If she was the scapegoat, let it be so.

"... it's most likely she won't be waking up. We had discouraging news from our doctors."

That made her smile. If she didn't want discretion, she would have waved at him, just to prove him wrong. But she swallowed her pride and tiptoed out of the door, looking at both sides to make sure she was, indeed, all alone. Perfect.

"As for her husband," She halted at that. On the floor, she hid behind a shrub to see Branch climbing up the mushroom, looking stiff, a little hunched, and angry like he was there against his will. It warmed her heart to see him. It was just like when they went on a journey to Bergentown to rescue their friends. "After a long discussion, we decided to take away the title of Prince Regent. Forgive us, mate, but keeping such a grave secret from our people cannot go unpunished."

The crowd gasped loudly and Poppy bit her lower lip. It certainly wasn't how she wished things to go, but at least Branch would be free from his burden, as he had said in one of his letters.

"Therefore, we're calling elections immediately," Creek finished with Hal sadly taking notes by his side.

Shaking her head, Poppy turned around, memorizing the precious little details of the city she had created, and marched towards the gates. Leaving was easy, especially when she planned never to return.

ooooooooooooooooooooo

"Therefore, we're calling elections immediately,"

Branch nodded to Smidge. The small yellow troll could barely keep her excitement. They had wondered if Creek had heard their conversation in the surveillance room, but from the path his speech had taken, it was obvious that he was counting on his certain victory.

It was going to taste sweet, Smidge thought when she pressed a button on Gary. A white screen unfolded behind the mushroom like a giant movie theater.

Hal looked behind him, startled, and Creek quickly glanced at Branch. The survivalist crossed his arms, threateningly. Almost daring the guru to try to run.

"... only your pod should have been burned. But you didn't run straight home and I had to improvise."

Confused, the trolls looked at the screen behind them. The camera was focusing on both Poppy and Creek and the guru's lips moved, matching the words that came loudly from the speakers. They gasped when Poppy fell into the water and whispers became a deafening and undistinguished hiss.

Looking at them, Creek tried to step out of the mushroom, already sensing the massive angry auras rising. Branch stepped in front of him and Smidge took her place on the other side.

"You'll be in the history books. The mad queen burned her city and drowned afterward. Quite ironic."

"You watched her drown!" Someone shouted from the crowd.

"You started the fire!"

"That's edited," Creek quickly replied, but still taking a step back, cautiously looking in every direction for a way out. "They're trying to frame me."

"No," Branch approached and for the first time the survivalist realized he was a bit taller than his rival, "you framed her. You kept me from contacting her. You tried to kill her."

Smidge cracked her knuckles, closing the distance between them.

"I won't ever forgive you."

Branch thought it was funny how feelings changed. He used to think any type of confrontation was a losing battle. He always thought the smart way of living would be running and hiding, changing routes, and adapting to survive. It was how he observed nature. Smaller critters would move from their homes when predators approached. Facing danger was always a higher risk.

Maybe it was his survivalist ways, but Branch didn't feel like staying to watch what would happen to Creek. Hal had opened a dusty book about crimes, which talked mostly about going to birthday parties without taking gifts and their related penalties. It would take a while to find something as serious as they had faced.

Smidge wouldn't let Creek go without a proper punishment, that was for sure. He didn't have to allow her to, she just had all the right in the world to do as she judged fair.

'Prince Regent…' Branch looked up to the clinic's pod and fell into deep sadness. His darling wife needed to wake up. He needed her. He was stripped from every meaning in his life when Dr. Moonbloom didn't assure him that Poppy would ever recover.

Yet, it felt oddly familiar. Taking his position as a leader and waiting for her to return.

The royal hospital bedroom had its door always closed. Dr. Moonbloom had informed him it was a regular requirement to avoid curious eyes and wandering subjects. Which was why Branch stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the door completely open at the end of the long and cold corridor.

His thundering heart was starting to protest the amount of stress he went through the previous weeks. The poor organ was exhausted and threatened to go into permanent arrhythmia.

Or cardiac arrest. Branch could swear his heart stopped beating when he saw the empty bed, IVs on the floor, and monitors beeping continuously with the lack of a troll to report.

"Poppy?" He screamed in desperation. She wasn't inside the bathroom, in the cafeteria, in the waiting room, or anywhere he looked.

He bumped into Dr. Moonbloom on his way out, nearly knocking the older troll to the ground.

"Watch where you're going, boy." She scolded him. "I could have had a scalpel on my hands."

"It's Poppy! She disappeared!" Branch yelled, nearly losing his mind.

"Rubbish," the doctor dismissed his worries, "she cannot wake up during severe trauma…"

"But she's gone!" Branch insisted. A conflicted emotion bubbled up in his chest. If she had woken up, it meant she was fine. She was healed! "Oh, Hair, I need to find her."

But the small hope slowly burst when he entered the bunker, looking for his wife in their bedroom to find it empty. The same with the kitchen, her scrapbook room, the garage, the bathroom, and the surveillance room.

He considered looking into the screens, but the beeping urgency screamed that he didn't have the time to keep cool and search as he had done before.

Counting on nothing but his intuition, Branch blindly ran to the only place it made sense for her to go.

Poppy's last feeling before drowning was of his betrayal. She was feeling alone, cast aside. If he was in a similar situation he would lock himself in the bunker again; dismiss the world and find comfort in loneliness.

It was with that feeling that he stood in front of the gates. Once, heavily guarded, the heavy iron doors were open, and nobody was there to control who came and went. The dark forest outside had grown thick and threatening.

Exhausted, Branch fell to his knees.

Poppy came back feeling bitter towards him and left hating him.

oooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Two Months Later

"Yes, I gave her all your letters, but she didn't open them," Queen Barb welcomed Branch at Volcano Rock City with little patience. The survivalist thought he would have the door closed in his face, but he was glad when she stepped aside to allow him inside.

"I figured this time she wouldn't." Branch sighed. Covered in dust, as the last time he visited, he needed a place to stay in case he wasn't successful at talking to his wife.

"The rumors have spread all over the Trolls Kingdom, you know." Barb tapped twice on a buffet with water, some old cake, and lots of cheese cubes. Perhaps it was her way of welcoming the guests. "Poppy is staying as long as she needs," she grinned before flopping on the couch next to Riff. "Whoever burns a town deserves my respect."

"The rumors must have partially reached you then," Branch replied, sucking his annoyance with a glass of water. "Poppy was proven innocent."

"Yeah, take the fun away," Barb replied. "Anyway, I assume you want to look for her," a smirk grew on the queen's face and she put her hands behind her head. "You'll be followed and at any sign of distress you'll be kicked out."

"C'mon," Riff crossed the room, not giving Branch the time to reply. "I'm guiding you."

Branch always had a sense of frustration when talking to Barb. Unlike Riff, she seemed to always be defensive, ready to start a fight over all the small things. It was tiresome.

The city was packed with Rock Trolls this time. Riff mentioned the reason for it was the weekdays. The shops were open and while there was daylight, they had to make a living. It also meant Dr. Leopold was in the clinic.

"Barb is usually… dry." Branch walked ahead, remembering the way to find the doctor. Riff just nodded, following him. "... but she wasn't as welcoming as the last time."

"She's pissed at you," Riff shrugged, showing he wasn't in the best of moods as well.

Branch was sympathetic to their lack of courtesy. He wasn't happy about what happened to Poppy either.

"She's drinking again," Riff was the one who opened the door to the clinic's reception. "I blame you for it and I'm not the only one."

"Branch!" Dr. Leopold showed up from the staircase. "I wasn't expecting you for eight years or so."

It was a good way to illustrate what Riff had meant. If a therapist blamed him, he definitely had done something nasty.

"You're here about Poppy." Dr. Leopold motioned the couch behind them and Branch was glad to finally feel like someone wanted to talk. "She's not having any anxiety crisis if that's what you want to know."

Good," Branch breathed out in relief. He was the one edgy there.

"She's walking right into depression if you ask me, but who am I to say anything?" Branch could feel the color draining from his face, hearing the doctor's words. His lips trembled as he fought for the words to come out. "

"We exposed Creek. Poppy isn't aware of that. She isn't alone. We all love her and want her back." The survivalist could feel his airpipe hurting as it used to when he was on the verge of a panic attack.

"This isn't about Creek," the doctor stood up, arms clasped together hiding his Gun and Roses t-shirt under a white jacket. "It's about you. By the way, I have some cheese at the office, I'll go get it and I'll be right back."

Even more, intrigued and drawing in self-guilt, Branch merely looked at Riff.

"What is going on?"

"She's a mess, Branch. That's what is going on." Riff replied. "Hair… that letter."

It was going to be so much worse than he had imagined, wasn't it?

Branch bit his tongue to the point of nearly breaking the skin.

He was going to be strong.

For Poppy.

She deserved to be compensated for years of accusations, of doubts, and having her rights taken from her.

"Have you ever tried cheese with dulce de leche? It's amazing!"

But first, he was going to have a long conversation with Dr. Leopold.

ooooooooooooooooooooooo

Poppy cleaned the last table. Her colleague turned off the lights, talking non-stop about the band that had performed that night.

The former queen pretended she was hearing her by giving monosyllabic answers. She was behind the bar and picked up her purse as well as a bottle of gin.

"Tell Freddie to put it on my bill." Poppy raised the bottle so her colleague would see what she was taking.

"At least get home before opening it!"

The door closed behind her and Poppy opened the bottle. She took a quick sip to make sure she had gotten a good brand and started walking to her apartment.

Riff hadn't sold it, as she had requested. All her things, Rob's trophies, and the rainbow paint on the wall were exactly as she had left them.

The trash bag was lying on the ground for weeks. Every night she would arrive home and promise herself after showering she'd throw Rob's things away.

But she never did.

Branch came to mind when she turned on the hot water. Her hair fell on her sides and she made sure she washed the smell of smoke and drink from her strands.

She couldn't distinguish what she felt towards him. It physically hurt. Her chest would squeeze and she would feel short of breath. Like abstinence, the treatment was cruel, but she had to face it to survive.

And she missed him terribly.

High on gin, Poppy dried herself with the same towel she used the night before. She hung it to dry and threw herself on the bed, arms wide and facing down. She didn't bother with pajamas, after all, Volcano Rock City was always too hot for clothes.

But somehow sleep didn't come to her. The trophies seemed out of place and the plastic bag on the floor was giving her home a messy atmosphere that started bothering her. She considered taking another sip of gin to shut her brain off, but she recalled how Branch would be upset when she drank too much.

Deciding that the best medicine for insomnia was to fix her home, Poppy sat up, put on the first nightshirt she could find, and stood in front of the trophy shelf.

It could be the lack of food - Hair, did she even eat anything that day? She couldn't recall. - or maybe it was the disconnected feelings that didn't settle right when she returned home. But when she looked at the trophies, she saw Rob and her unfinished business with him.

She still felt guilty and it brought her down. Sadness wasn't the way to connect with the new life she wanted to build. She felt she wasn't fair to her husband and was never truly sincere.

"I need to talk to you," Poppy said to the trophies, recalling the last time she saw him. Rob was wearing a tux, a Van Hallen shirt underneath, and his hair was tied back, displaying the tattoos he had on his neck. "You were right when you said I could never love you. Love isn't a choice. It simply happens. You may have considered me a naive girl for pinning over Branch, even though I tried to hide it." She scoffed at her ridiculous attitude back then, "but I cannot unlove him. I wish you knew I tried."

She had a feeling she was being watched and she turned her head to the kitchen, where nothing but darkness could be seen. Brushing the feeling aside, she returned to the trophies.

"Rob, our love was a different kind of love and I treasured it. I'm grateful you were here and I'm sorry I held back. I was never certain of my feelings and I won't blame you for seeking comfort somewhere else.." The first trophy was kissed and placed inside the trash bag. "I hope you can forgive me."

The last trophy was the one Rob got on the day he died. Their wedding ring was placed on the handlebars of the mini motorcycle. Poppy had never touched it, not even once. Riff had arrived with it and with the tragic news. The trophy was placed on the shelf and there it stayed. A soft smile painted her lips when she picked it up. It was lighter than she had thought.

"Goodbye."

She closed the trash bag and threw it on the color-coordinated dumpster outside. It was not to be recycled.

ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

Poppy woke up with the smell of melons. Her head was fuzzy and it painfully stung when she turned to look at a plate of fresh melons, bright strawberries, and deep green kiwis cut in small squares.

Confused, she pushed herself up, swinging her legs off the bed.

Painkillers and an icy bottle of water were also there.

"Riff? Is that you?" Poppy didn't look up. She took the medicine to test the hangover. Her body felt a little heavy, but there was nothing food and coffee couldn't cure.

She picked up a strawberry and popped it into her mouth. She walked around the room, seeing if her visitor had left any notes.

The smell of coffee invaded her nostrils and her mouth watered. Tip-toeing out of the room, Poppy slowly approached the kitchen and peeked inside.

Branch stood there, pouring hot water on coffee grains in the way he mastered.

Poppy wanted to approach him to ask how he had found her, but her question had one obvious answer: Queen Barb.

She hadn't locked the door again, had she?

"Branch…?" She managed to ask wearily which caused the survivalist to jump in surprise and nearly drop all the hot water on his pants.

"Oh, jeez. Hot. Hot." He put the kettle down, blowing his burnt fingers before turning to her. His face softened at her sight. "I missed you."

"Missed me?" Poppy blankly repeated. She was confused and her anger was also growing. How did he dare walk in like it was nothing? "What are you doing here?"

He was prepared for that reaction, Poppy noticed. He pursed his lips and took a deep breath through his nose. If he was recalling rehearsed words or merely gathering all the patience he had to face her, Poppy couldn't tell.

"I've made a mistake by not coming after you once. I'm not making the same mistake again." He merely said, looking straight into her eyes, which were full of indignation.

"I'm here to get away from you," Poppy replied in frustration. She turned on her heels and stormed back into the bedroom. She felt too exposed wearing just a shirt. She needed to look decent. "Go away!"

"That's not happening." Branch followed her and caught her in the process of taking the shirt off.

"Get out!" She yelled, covering herself.

"Can't I see my wife naked anymore?" Branch knew he was asking for a slap with his cheeky reply, Poppy could see it by the way he smirked and leaned against the door.

"Your fake wife. It was all for the show, wasn't it? To get rid of the title…" Frustrated, the pink girl turned to her wardrobe, picking the first black dress she could find.

"No, it wasn't." Branch looked offended. "It was real for me."

"Hair," pacing around the room in frustration, Poppy only wished he would disappear. "I cannot trust a single word you say. Just please go."

Despite her words, she knew her face was begging him to stay. Her tears rolled down screaming how much he was loved.

"We need to clear this mess." Branch dared to step closer. Poppy was feisty like she was on their wedding day. She paced around to calm her nerves.

"You lied!" She covered her face to stop giving away her true feelings. "You hate me. I hate you. It's over!"

She couldn't ask for Branch to be fateful when she also hadn't waited for him. Even if her resolution had lasted longer, asking for him to be faithful wasn't fair.

Creek was right. She was selfish. Hair, she hated that guru.

But it cut deep into her heart that he had omitted the truth from her.

With the Rock girl who had started it all, nonetheless.

"I'm not proud of that letter." Branch could never see her cry. Her tears had the power to make his armor fall to pieces. It didn't matter how much he had gotten prepared for that talk, he wasn't in control. "Joan was a mistake."

"Oh, yeah, glad to know she had a name." Poppy couldn't help a sarcastic reply.

"I was angry you never returned," Branch pretended he didn't hear her and continued, "and you never answered me. Joan came to apologize and… she stayed."

"I know." Poppy angrily wiped her tears away. "Your letter was very explicit."

"You didn't read the following letter, though." Branch hadn't taken it with him. He showed her he intended to speak and not let old letters do the job for him. "I wanted to hurt you. In some twisted way, I thought it would lure you out. I was pissed at you, but I realized later when the rage subsided that it didn't feel right."

Poppy's dress was a mess with tear stains. She hadn't words to reply to. Her lips were trembling too much.

"I broke it up before the second week." He continued, "I told you everything and I asked for forgiveness. I could never burst a bubble of feelings for someone when my heart fully belonged to you."

Cheater. Liar. Poppy's rational mind hammered the words into the heart that was willing to crack.

"If you had told me as soon as I told you about Rob…" Poppy sat down on her bed. She had just woken up and she was already so tired. "It wouldn't hurt so much." He had allowed her to go on believing he had firmly waited. He had allowed her to punish herself for giving in to Rob.

"You were a mess. I was scared you'd leave again." He defended himself, but Poppy rolled her eyes. She was a mess all over again, thanks to his omission. "I'm sorry," Branch whispered. He would beg if he had to. "I'm sorry. I love you. I'm so, so sorry."

The perfume of the fruits filled the room. The plate with colorful and nutritional breakfast was still by her bed.

"Come back with me. Everybody is waiting." He kneeled down, placing his hands on her knees.

"Another lie." Poppy shook her head. "I confessed I burned the village in front of everyone. Exile is the least to be expected." She was caught in a trap. She confessed something she hadn't done. was right from the beginning.

"You're wrong!" Half smiling, Branch had to hold himself back from engulfing his silly wife in his arms. "Creek was unmasked. Everybody knows what he did." Tucking her bangs from her big magenta eyes, Branch touched the scar on the side of her head.

It was probably never going to fade.

"He would never confess." Still suspicious, she held her breath for confirmation.

"I caught him on camera. I played it all for everyone to see. He can't deny what he did." Branch scrunched his eyes closed to control his growing despair, battling away the suffocating scene he witnessed of Poppy slowly sinking into the river.

She was in silence, replaying his words in her mind.

"Come with me." Branch begged, "we're all waiting for our Queen."

"I don't…" Poppy looked away, knowing her words would hurt him. "I can't go back to the way we were."

She could see his heart breaking right in front of her. His ears dropped and his eyes fell on the floor. Slowly, his face fell forward, hiding in her lap. Branch firmly held her hands on his, kissing her knuckles in desperation.

Then he stopped. He looked at the wedding ring that she was still wearing.

It gave him hope.

He could wait. He did conquer her sour heart once. He could do it again.

"Eat up." Branch placed the plate in front of her before standing up. He dried his tears and returned to the kitchen.

The smell of coffee reassured Poppy he had no intention of going away.

She could never stop loving Branch, could she?

Creek had wished for the Crown. Rob had wished to get in her pants. Branch seemed to only want her. For who she was. Flaws and all.

Branch felt true. Like the perfect piece that completed the puzzle.

She watched him doing the dishes. Coffee was in the thermos, ready for whenever she wanted it.

He had organized the mess she had accumulated for weeks. Silverware was in the right drawer. The pans were scrubbed clean and placed inside the cabinet.

He stood his ground. Branch wasn't going anywhere.

Maybe they wouldn't kiss right away. Maybe he would need to sleep on the floor for a couple of weeks.

There was no rush.

He would take her home soon.