𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓲𝓭𝓪𝔂 𝓐𝓻𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓶𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓼 | 𝓣𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓵𝓼 | 𝓑𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓱 𝔁 𝓯𝓮𝓶 𝓣𝓻𝓸𝓵𝓵 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 {𝓢𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓑𝓸𝓸𝓴}

❄️𝓐 𝓓𝓪𝔂 𝓛𝓮𝓼𝓼 𝓣𝓸 𝓒𝓮𝓵𝓮𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓽𝓮❄️

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓭 𝓟𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷 𝓟𝓞𝓥: 𝓑𝓮𝓻𝓰𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓸𝔀𝓷.
We begin our story with a quick visit to BergenTown, a bustling little place tucked between rolling hills and misty forests. Let's take a moment to peer inside and see what its quirky residents are doing right now. The old Castle sits in silence on an ordinary day, its grand halls echoing with the same quiet routine that fills every weekday and weekend alike: absolutely nothing.
Gristle, the King of BergenTown, lounges on his throne with his feet propped against the backrest, a keyboard balanced across his lap. His fingers dance across the keys in no particular order, producing a chaotic string of tones with no clear melody. Beside him sits Bridget - his girlfriend and the newly-crowned Queen of BergenTown. She occupies her throne properly, legs swinging gently as she flips through a glossy magazine, her attention only half on the pages.
"I got another card from TrollVillage!" The entrance doors shoots open, the groan of heavy wood echoing through the castle hall. One of Gristle's personal guards strides in, a card pinched between his fingers, raising it high above his head as he approaches the royal couple.
"Oh yay!" Bridget lowers her open magazine onto her lap, clasping her hands in front of her at the guard's enthusiastic approach. "Thanks, Todd." Gristle tilts his head farther back over the edge of his throne, peering upside-down at the Bergen now standing before them. "I'm Chad." This Bergen - apparently named Chad - has enough spine to gently correct the King on some minor detail, even pointing toward his fellow guard for confirmation. "He's Todd." The other guard, Todd, raises his hand in a hesitant wave. "Got it, Todd and Chad." Gristle isn't particularly invested in the conversation. His attention remains divided, half listening, half focused on the keyboard still resting in his lap. But Bridget's interest is piqued. She springs from her seat, strides over to Chad, and snatches the card from his hand with practiced ease. "Look Grissy. It's another card from Poppy and Juniper!" The card is bright and colourful, adorned with a printed photo of Poppy and Juniper - Bridget's two best friends from TrollVillage, mid-air in a joyful toss, limbs flailing in frozen laughter. Gristle finally shifts upright, repositioning himself with a grunt. He leans in toward the card as Bridget holds it out for him, squinting at the sparkly letters before reading the message aloud. "Happy Catch your friend day?" Ending in a curious lilt, shaped like a question mark. "What if you drop them. I mean, we're not insured for that kind of thing?" Bridget strolls toward the tall stone fireplace, its surface nearly disappearing behind a patchwork of cheerful holiday cards stacked impossibly high. Almost reaching the ceiling. "I would never, ever drop them. Never!" She doesn't question how they've been stuck so far up. Her eyes catch a small gap between two existing cards, just big enough. She slots the new one in, even if it covers half of the others. "Whatevs Babe. The Trolls have so many holidays. Too many if you ask me." Behind her, Gristle exhales, rising from his throne. The keyboard slips from his lap, hitting the floor with a dull thud. He joins Bridget at the fireplace, letting his gaze wander over the colourful collage of paper and glitter. "Well. I think it's- kind of nice having so much to celebrate." Bridget chuckles softly. Gristle's eyes return to her. "Hey, Bridgie, we do cool stuff too!" He gently places a hand on her shoulder, turning her toward him. "I mean. What about all those awesome cards we sent back to them, huh?" A grin gets plastered upon his features as he mention to their own 'awesome' response cards.
Meanwhile, back in TrollVillage, Poppy has just received the latest.
———
𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓲𝓹𝓮𝓻'𝓼 𝓟𝓞𝓥:
"June!" The sound of Poppy's voice is close, only getting closer. And less than a minute later, she bursts into my hut, fist high above her head with a tight grip on a photo. Her eyes land on another Troll present inside - Branch - and her pace slows slightly, though her breathing remains heavy from the run. "Oh. Hey Branch." Branch offers her a nod before turning back to my full-body mirror, adjusting his reflection with exaggerated focus. Poppy doesn't comment. I can tell she's getting used to the idea that Branch and I are basically inseparable these days. Ever since his colours returned, and we realized just how fond we are of each other, we've barely been apart.
She bounces to my side and shoves the card in front of my face. "Juniper. Bridget and Gristle has send a response to our card!" My breath hitches as my eyes focus on it, recognition scrunching up my face. Yet another card from BergenTown. "Huh.." As always, it's a photo of King Gristle and Queen Bridget, posing with exaggerated grins and holding a sign that spells out the day of the week. The same pose, different day. "Well, that's consistent." Poppy shrugs and turns toward our shared photo wall, every card from BergenTown carefully taped in place. We both pause, staring at the row of near-identical images. Slowly, we each raise a hand to our chins in sync, clearly thinking the same thing.
"Branch. Bridget- um, sent another card." I glance at Branch and calls his name. From the mirror's reflection, I can see the series of faces he's making. Eyes mostly narrowed, mouth stretching wide open in what might be a grin, but could also be mild discomfort. I frown at the sight. "What- what are you doing?" Before he gets to respond to my made comment, Poppy lets out a small, panicked gasp. "Are you going to barf? I'll go get a trash can!" She spins and bolts toward the door, muttering something about needing a bin and tissues. Confused, I follow her retreat with my eyes, trying to figure out what I missed.
Branch turns to me, still wearing that odd, forced smile. "What? No. I'm practicing my smile..." His arms wraps tightly around his torso like he's physically holding in the awkwardness. "Y-You know I'm new to this, 'being happy' thing."
"Oh. Well, you could've told me so. Here, let me help you. Smiles are my jam!" I step closer and lift both hands, placing my thumbs in the corners of his mouth to try and help. The smile doesn't improve. I adjust slightly - now too much front teeth. Again - too much bottom teeth. "Hmm, no- uhh, no- close?... Weird! What the-" With each attempt, I mutter something unintelligible, frustrated by the impossible task. Branch, unfazed, just lets me try, clearly expecting the failure. "Your face is being very frustrating!" Finally, I give up, removing my thumbs. He rubs his jaw, sore from the effort, and glances sideways toward the photo wall. "What is the deal with all these cards?" One card in particular catches his attention. He squints, eyes scanning the Bergen's grins and their awkward sign. "Monday. Friday. Sunday mid-morning?" He removes the most recent card from its clip and holds it up, studying it. I open my mouth to comment, but I'm cut off by the sudden swing of the front door.
"Found it! Please tell me I made it." Poppy reenters, holding a trash bin in one hand and a full tissue box in the other. "He wasn't going to barf. Simply practicing to eventually be able to smile, and for it to feel natural." I blink at her. "Oh.. We won't be needing these, then." She shrugs, motions to the bin and tissues, then casually tosses them out the door again. From below, we hear a faint "Ow."
She peeks her head out, probably to check if she hurt someone. A second later, the same voice calls, "Thank you!" Poppy looks satisfied by his newest response, then steps back inside, slamming the door shut behind her. "Oh. I see Branch noticed the cards we've received from Bridget and Gristle!" She approaches Branch and gently takes the photo from his hand, her eyes settling on their friends frozen mid-air in a staged pose. The lighting behind them is dim, the glow of celebration faded. Her smile falters. I notice immediately. She is staring at it longer than the usual necessity. "What's wrong?"
"It's like, ever since Trollstice got cancelled, the Bergens don't have anything to look forward to. I feel really bad for them." The cost of our freedom from the Bergens, was the loss of Trollstice - their one annual holiday. Just the thought of never having anything to look forward to. To celebrate. It's awful! It's like waking up on Christmas Eve, but the only thing you'll receive is snow that will stay - if you're lucky.
But then, just as fast, her energy shifts. Her eyes brighten again, a gasp filling her chest as an idea takes root. I see the spark and feel my own excitement rise. Our minds twist the same way. Growing up together does that to Trolls.
"Uh no! No, no, no, I know what that look means." Before she says a word, Branch is already retreating, wagging a finger between us. He knows that look. We hold our expressions - giddy, mischievous, barely containing ourselves. "You two are about to hatch an elaborate plan, which involves a lot of hugging, singing, dancing and-" He stares between us, visibly nervous. "Glitter.." A gag escapes his throat. Just the idea of glitter sends a shiver down his spine.
"You know it!" Poppy lifts her palm in my direction. I meet it halfway with a satisfying smack. We grin, triumphant.
"Okay. Can you two promise me to sleep on it, Before you rush into something, like you always do?" Branch sighs deeply and starts approaching the exit, ready to call it a night. "Okay...." As he reaches it, I hold a pause in my speech, trying to choke down the squeal threatening to burst out. My body sways side to side in excitement. Poppy copies me, rocking with barely contained glee, trying to look innocent and failing completely. "We won't do anything..." Branch gives us one last skeptical look and shakes his head. He can only hope we keep our promise, whatever we just silently made.
Before leaving, he pauses. His steps slow as he turns back, approaching my side, stopping once close. He leans down, and plants a soft kiss on my flushed cheek. "Night, Love." I freeze with surprise, smiling as he straightens back up and heads out into the starlit night. As soon as he's out of sight, Poppy grabs my arm. We tiptoe to the door, peek left, then right. Coast is clear.
With a mutual nod, we bolt into the night, leaving the door swinging behind us. We don't stop running until we reach Poppy's hut, bursting through the door and diving straight into preparations for our latest, glitter-filled, impulsive idea.