I do not own Trolls.

The plot to this story was thought up by gaara king of the sand.

Chapter One

"Trolls! Trolls! Trolls!" The herd of Trolls chanted as they rushed through the tunnel towards safety. They had managed to escape Bergen Town, well, at least they almost had. All they had to do was follow this tunnel, keep together, and leave no one behind. Their brave King, King Peppy, lead the Trolls as fast as he could, stopping only to greet his one and only daughter, Poppy. She was just a small tiny baby. He grinned at her.

"There's my little Princess," He cooed.

"King Peppy, some Trolls are struggling to keep up!" A Troll informed him. He nodded, feeling determined. He placed Poppy gently in his hair before charging fiercely back towards the troll tree where he began gathering up Trolls who were struggling and throwing his clothes down over puddles to help with those falling behind. Some of the Trolls he gathered had broken bones, others were just slow, but he was determined no Troll would be left behind. With his hands full, his strength at maximum use, he pushed forward towards the exit. Knowing he needed to be their leader and saviour he made it his objective to save every Troll. However, his plan was soon halted as a pickaxe slammed through the dirt and caught his underpants.

King Peppy tried to think quickly, his thought process being disrupted by a tool breaking through the surface of the soil above. With his fast thinking he threw his ball of Trolls forward, only missing the large sharp piercing shovel by mere centimetres. With them safe he stared at his underpants that were caught on the pickaxe. He grunted, knowing there was only one way out.

At the exit a Troll hobbled towards the cave, his leg practically broken in two, to stare into the deep abyss. He watched patiently, his heart sinking. He turned to the others, a pained expression on his face.

"I don't think King Peppy made it…" He broke the news, the other Trolls hanging their heads in sorrow.

"When I say no Troll left behind, I mean no Troll left behind!" The King's voice boomed as he appeared from the cave, stood in all his naked glory. The Trolls cheered for the safety of their King.

"But King Peppy, where's Poppy?" A younger female Troll asked, concern plastered on her face.

"Don't worry, she's right here…" He smiled, opening his hair. But his smile soon fell when he realised she was gone…

"Poppy!" He screamed down the tunnel. With haste behind him he tried to head back inside the tunnel, but it began collapsing before his eyes, leaving no way back in.

"Poppy…" He sobbed.

King Gristle growled loudly as he demanded Chef find the Trolls immediately. He was frustrated that his son was suffering, missing out on the most spectacular feeling in the world. He was missing out on being happy, and that angered the King greatly.

"I found one!" A Bergen announced, the King rushing forward where he snatched the Troll from the Bergen's clasp. He opened his hand to see a tiny little pink Troll. Rather cute really, but he knew what needed doing. He handed the Troll to his son.

"Eat up, son," He ordered, handing the baby Troll to Gristle. Gristle smiled up at his father as he stared at the Troll in his hand, licking his lips. As he began to raise the Troll to his mouth he heard Chef yell out.

"What is wrong with that Troll?" She shouted, snatching Poppy out of Gristle's hand.

"She's… She's going grey…" The young Gristle noted, sadness filling him as he watched the once colourful Troll turn grey and dark, her smile fading to a frown.

"She's sad!" King Gristle shouted, "He cannot eat an unhappy Troll!"

"Then she'll be my pet," The child announced, holding his hand out in demand for his pet. The King grinded his teeth, but nodded, giving his son what he wanted.

"As for you, Chef…" The King turned on her, anger building as he clenched his fists, the other Bergens surrounding her as well.

"You are hereby banished from Bergen Town for your negligence!" He ordered, pointing over to the gates. The surrounding Bergens grabbed her, carrying her to the exit where they threw her out of Bergen Town forever.

The young Prince, choosing to ignore the scene, looked down at his grey Troll. He realised he wouldn't be happy, but he did have a cool new pet and that would just have to do.

20 years later…

Branch was hunting deeper into the forest than usual, and it left him on edge. The supplies closer to his bunker had worn thin, and he needed to venture out for more. He figured he'd be okay if he stayed aware and focussed.

"Come on, Branch, hurry up," He ordered himself as he grabbed another stick he could use for fire. His bag was full of different fruits he had found, and his arms were almost overflowing with wood. He only needed a few more before he could head home and relax for another month or so. But he soon stopped in his tracks, his ears propping up.

"It couldn't be…" He murmured, quickly dropping his sticks before shooting behind a tree. He peered out, trying hard not to bounce off the ground with the hard vibrations under him. It was getting closer…

Then there it was. A Bergen. The Bergen was small in height compared to the other one he had seen as a child, but this one made up for it with his stomach and vile looking crooked teeth. Branch couldn't believe what he was seeing. It had been twenty years since he had last laid eyes on one. The last time he saw one this close was when his Grandma was taken, leaving him grey, depressed and guilt ridden.

"Uh! You are supposed to find them! You are leading me in circles!" The Bergen shouted in anger.

"I don't have a weird connection with those traitors, you do realise this. Your guess is as good as mine as to where they are," Branch looked around, trying to figure out where that other voice had come from.

"You should be able to think like them, you are one of them!" The Bergen spoke again, spitting his saliva out with every word. Branch pulled a face as he backed away in disgust.

"I might be a Troll, but that doesn't mean I'm like them!" Branch felt shaken to his core as his eyes landed on a young Troll stood in the Bergen's hand. She was grey just like him, and clearly full of anger and attitude. She had her arms crossed, clearly unamused with this routine she had been pushed into. She had a black band in her hair with grey flowers on it. Even her dress was dark and dull. Branch almost pitied her. He understood the feelings she was probably suffering. What he couldn't figure out was who she was.

"I sometimes wonder why I bothered keeping you as a pet. I was hoping you would find the Trolls, so I could make my Kingdom happy! They are even more miserable lately…"

"No more than usual, Gristle," She looked at him, obviously fed up with his antics.

"Poppy…" He growled almost warningly. She rolled her eyes.

"Poppy?" Branch whispered, shock shaking through him, "It couldn't be…"

"Look, you want revenge for them abandoning you, I want them to make me and my people happy. Are you going to help or not? Your cage is waiting for you otherwise…" The Bergen, who, Branch figured, must be Gristle, told her.

"Blackmail doesn't sit well with me," Poppy raised an eyebrow at him, almost challenging him, "But I'll do what I can," Branch rested his back against the tree, his heart pounding as the pair carried on their journey, thankfully in the opposite direction to the village. Branch sighed as he closed his eyes. He couldn't believe it was her. She had been missing twenty years, she was deemed dead. Yet there she was. Princess Poppy…

Branch rushed towards the village as fast as he could, jumping over small logs and swerving around rocks and trees. He felt out of breath and worn out by the time he reached the Village he usually tried so hard to avoid. Thankfully the village was surrounded in darkness from the night, the only light available was coming from the moon's shine. Branch rushed through the village to the King's pod where he knocked urgently. When he got no response, Branch quietly moved around to an open window where he saw the King knelt, tears flushing down his cheeks as he stared at a picture of Poppy as a baby. A little pink baby girl. Branch frowned, feeling sorrow for King Peppy. Branch knew that the King struggled with the loss of his daughter, but what Branch always struggled to fathom was why he managed to keep his colour. However, watching Peppy now, Branch saw the true nature of his emotions.

The King was raw and bearing all his pain, with each sob he watched as Peppy's colour tried to drain away, but he kept fighting it back to normal. The Troll's leader was trying to remain strong for his people, Branch could see that, however the pain and guilt the King was suffering was unbearable to watch. Branch could relate to that kind of depression and agony. He felt very similar regarding what happened to his Grandma. He was the cause of her death, and quite clearly Peppy thinks he's the cause of Poppy's. Branch sighed, unsure as to what to do. Did he tell the King and risk raising his hopes? Or did he just go and save her and go from there?

He moved away from the King's pod, feeling determined.

"No Troll left behind," Branch murmured to himself as he hurriedly made his way to his bunker to collect the essentials he needed for his journey.