Chapter 20: Chapter Twenty
One soft kiss, then another, followed by a third. Creek touched his lips over and over, tender and slow, to Branch's mouth during the bask of their afterglow. They sat facing one another, exchanging kisses after cleaning up the best they could and putting their clothes back on. A prominent ache throbbing in Creek's lower back and stomach kept him grounded, unable to walk steadily enough without more rest. Branch wasn't too excited about having to travel in the dark but he wanted to get back home as soon as possible. They'd already been out here in the wilderness for over two hours, midnight fast approaching. Camping wasn't an easy alternative without proper equipment and the prospect of continuing the exploration of his new mate in his own, warm bed was absolutely more inviting. Branch would let him rest a little bit longer, though, while the two were led through the motions of their instincts.
Earlier passions rekindled each time he tasted Creek's lower lip. Branch placed his palm on Creek's thigh and rubbed the thick muscle, a shuddering sigh coming from the purple troll's mouth.
"You are a tease," he whispered. "Calm yourself, so that I can as well."
"Sorry," Branch apologized, but he wasn't sorry at all, nipping Creek's lip with his teeth to pull another needy sound. "I'm in a dream… I don't want it to end just yet." Feeling evermore confident, both of his hands slipped around the troll's waist through his opened coat. He splayed his fingers over Creek's lower back and massaged down his tail bone, using the most careful pressure to help ease some of the ache.
The purple troll's eyelashes fluttered and he leaned in, the tips of their noses brushing. "No need to feel rushed," Creek said quietly, bringing his hand up to pet Branch's cheek. "Just a few more minutes will be fine, then we can leave." His lilac eyes broke their gaze and trained upwards momentarily.
The dark troll pulled his kisses away, noticing Creek's weird glances up at his stalk of hair like he was looking for something in particular. "What is it," he asked worriedly.
"Nothing, really." Creek forced his attention back down to his face. The purple troll tried to kiss him again but he moved back to avoid it.
"There's something," Branch said, frowning in suspicion.
"Well… I'm a bit curious, that's all," Creek said truthfully, looking back to the black strands. "There might've been some color in your hair earlier... I thought maybe it was finally coming back. How are you feeling, Branch? Do you feel any happier?"
The grey troll frowned more deeply, his good mood gone sour at the mention of his color, or lack thereof. "I guess I was a little happy, but not for long if you keep believing the impossible."
Creek held up his palms, "Alright, my love. Don't get upset. You asked, so I told you."
Branch huffed in annoyance, crossing his arms defensively, "I just wish you'd let it go… I'm sorry." He apologized again, trying to get his erratic thoughts in order.
There was a nagging in the back of his mind, prodding with the intention to ruin all of the positive feelings he desperately tried to keep inside. Of course he felt happier; who wouldn't after everything they just did together? He was scared though, and Branch couldn't bring himself to tell Creek that he was afraid of their future. It all seemed too good to be true; so many years of forcing himself through torturous solitude, only to have the most beautiful soul mate drop into his lap without any provoking whatsoever. He fought it tooth and nail, being a real jackass in the process, but Creek prevailed in the end and he didn't deserve such a gift.
The fact of the matter was, Creek needed a better mate than what Branch could give him. He couldn't provide the normal, emotional necessities that were expected. He just couldn't be a normal troll. The future was empty in his eyes, void of everything that Creek was going to expect – laughter, singing, dancing… even bringing up a family and living happily ever after until they were old, surrounded by loved ones without a single care in the world.
A gentle poke in the middle of his forehead brought Branch to the present and he blinked.
"If those lines get any deeper, your great looks will be compromised," Creek cooed.
Branch rubbed his forehead and a smirk played across his lips. The compliment was snarky, but well received. He supposed it wouldn't be so bad to just relish in what he could, before everything went south and he'd be left alone again. It was painful to think about Creek leaving him now that he'd already decided he was in love with the stupid yoga guru. Eventually, though, he'd have to let him go. Staying strong until then was going to be tricky. Life never seemed to fail him… in everything that he enjoyed, there was a buried seed of misery that went away.
Creek noticed the small smile and beamed brightly with his own, catching him in his arms and tackling him into the grass.
"What the hell?" Branch chuckled. "Where are you getting this energy, all of a sudden?" Despite his dark thoughts, it was difficult to be upset when his mate was halfway on top of him, one leg curling around his knee enough to make his heart pitter-patter against his rib cage.
"Your smile," he said simply.
A hard blush cast across Branch's face and he cleared his throat, "Do you have to be so bold," he muttered through his embarrassment, pushing off the clingy troll to sit back up. Creek's face told him that he regretted nothing, the happiness practically glowing through his skin. It was utterly contagious, the feeling bouncing between the two trolls and multiplying.
"Of course, one of us has to," Creek said and started to stand up from the ground, one hand on his knee and the other on his back. "It's too cold to stay out here anymore, though. Shall we get going?" He winced slightly when he straightened and Branch scurried to help, but the troll waved him off. "It's fine, it's fine," he breathed.
Branch judged his awkward positioning and rolled his eyes. "Get on my back," Branch commanded, kneeling down in front of him with his arms behind to help him up. "I'll carry you home."
"That's not necessary," Creek mumbled stubbornly. "I am completely fine to walk."
"Would you just do it?" Branch shot him a glare of his shoulder. "It's the least I can do for hurting you."
Creek bit his tongue said nothing more, crawling onto Branch's back and holding loosely around his neck. Branch felt the vibes of insecurity coming off the purple troll. It almost like he could hear his emotions as they were speaking. The regret was overwhelming when he realized his rough tone was yet another jerkish act on his part. Branch hefted the troll up and bounced gently, hooking his arms under Creek's legs for a solid hold. His weight was surprisingly lighter than expected, it would be easy to piggy-back him the whole way.
Beginning the trek back to Troll village, the pair drifted through the darkness in silence. Branch wanted to apologize again, knowing full well the pain was entirely his fault. He'd hit him in a fit of rage and then was animalistic with his body, showing no prior knowledge on how to properly prepare someone's first time. He'd educated himself, as with any subject, but when the moment came all thought process was jumbled in lust, most coherent action completely unattainable. He also regret so many things when it came to the harsh words he said, remembering the way Creek cried because of him and begged for him to listen. At the time, Branch was completely ready to kick the troll out of his life and have everything go back to normal. He didn't want him as a friend and especially not as a mate. There were still things that were cause for wary, loose ends that needed to be tied before he could completely trust someone other than himself.
"Talk to me," came a soft spoken murmur to Branch's ear. "Tell me what's on your mind."
He breathed out slowly, adjusting the hold on Creek's legs after stepping through a rather tangled area of shrubs. "It's nothing you need to be concerned about," he responded shortly. "I'm just thinking."
"You can tell me anything," the troll assured him, the breathy whisper tickling his ear and making him shiver. Creek tightened his arms, seemingly knowing how torn Branch was feeling. It was difficult to shake off the advances when his energy was an open book. Maybe Creek could sense his emotions like he could feel his. Being soul mates was something weird to experience, each nook and cranny exposing new mysteries.
After a few quiet moments, Branch swallowed nervously and decided there was no point in keep Creek in the dark. "There's a few things bothering me, I guess..." he started out slowly.
Creek's ears perked up to listen, but he didn't say anything, giving Branch the opportunity to continue.
"Back at the festival," he said, "Did you really not know about Poppy's 'surprise'?"
Creek shook his head, "She told me to bring you, but didn't advise me on the specifics. Of course I didn't know she was going to lock us in a closet like a glittering spectacle in front of dozens of trolls... I would have never brought you there, if that was the case."
"I only went because of you," Branch mumbled. "I hoped that it would be alright, since you were there. We could've avoided everything."
"Possibly… but then we wouldn't be together right now." Creek pet a finger gently down his throat and Branch's breath hitched, stumbling in his walk.
"Creek," he said desperately. "Don't make me drop you!"
The purple troll laughed lightly and clasped his hands to Branch's shoulders, keeping them at bay.
Flustered by the flirting, Branch grit his teeth and scrunched his nose. "And another thing about that," he added hotly. "When we were shacked up in that disgusting hole of a closet, were you mocking me? I heard you laugh, right before we got out."
Creek thought for a moment, trying to recall what he was talking about. "Oh, that," he said, chuckling again with a slow sigh. "I was actually laughing at myself and my own foolishness… All this time I've been trying to convince myself against the inevitable. When I sensed your soul, the sheer calamity of it all was simply amusing. Mother Destiny has always pointed me in the right direction and I didn't listen to her this time around. It's my own fault."
Branch grunted in response, forcing himself to try and believe Creek's words. The troll had no reason to lie to him. He kept wanting to deny him, push him away, and ignore his explanations. Branch hated that side of himself, taunting and tearing apart anything that made sense. He wanted to take control of these doubts and bury them in the dirt, never to see the light of day.
"I wasn't mocking you at all," Creek reaffirmed, touching his lips to the back of Branch's neck. The dark troll trembled again but didn't stop him, a small blossom of happiness forming at the contact.
"I… believe you," he said quietly. The purple troll hummed, warm vibrations flowing through his back. It was going to take some time, but Branch was hopeful for once. Invisible hands pulled him in Creek's direction, capable and unyielding. It was stronger than his doubts, stronger than his depression, and he leaned into the entity praying that it never gave up on him.
- - - -
Tonight was the night Chef the Bergen had been waiting for. All of the painful days of exile would be returned tenfold after she got her hands on a couple of unfortunate trolls. With Kevin at her side, the plans they created to overthrow King Gristle Jr's kingdom would bear the fruit of sweet revenge and she could hardly contain her excitement! The procedure was simple enough; backed up by a second version in case the first one fell through. They only needed to capture two trolls. If they happened to get more, Chef would be over the moon, but two were enough. She'd use the creatures to take control of neighboring Bergen villages with promises of a happier life. They'd make their own magical troll tree and breed their captives, having complete ownership over the entire population. Chef's power over the Bergens and the Trolls would skyrocket her position to the top, and then she'd make her kingdom greater than Gristle's Bergen Town, overthrowing it in a mere fortnight. The old king would grovel at her feet and lick her shoes just to get a taste of her holy boot.
Chef deserved the posh life and she was going to get it, no matter who she had to trample down. But first, the most important aspect of their plan needed to be complete. The two sneaking Bergens slipped soundlessly into Troll village with one thing on their mind; Capture some trolls and then get out before anyone noticed. The last thing Chef needed was alarms notifying the castle guard that their precious troll friends were being kidnapped. They wouldn't ask questions when they saw Chef; They'd toss her in the dungeon without a single thought on the matter. Still, once they got away, it would be an easy slide down hill into fame and fortune. Unfortunately, the first phase looked to be problematic because there wasn't a single troll in sight. The entire village was silent and dark.
Kevin observed the hanging, empty pods from the great tree and twisted a colorful one in his hand, musing over his thoughts.
"Where in the hell are they?" Chef griped, lifting up a couple of stones and mushrooms to look underneath them.
Kevin glanced over at her and rolled his eyes, releasing the pod and shoving his hands in his coat pockets. "Not here, obviously. I doubt they've abandoned their Troll Tree, I'm guessing the trolls are out having a party somewhere else, knowing their kind of culture."
"Then we're just going to have to go find them." Chef tossed a mushroom cap angrily and stomped past the male Bergen to leave the small village, then she stopped suddenly and strained her ears. "Wait, do you hear that?" She beckoned him over quickly, craning her neck towards the forest. He obliged, keeping quiet and opening his ears. "I think I hear a tiny voice," she whispered happily, then stepped quietly through the foliage with Kevin at her tail.
- - - - - -
"We're almost there," Branch huffed, following a familiar, skinny dirt trail winding through the trees. They'd made it from the festival area to the outskirts of the troll village and Branch hopped on his carefully camouflaged path that led to the entrance hatch of his survival bunker. The path was ragged and clustered, difficult to see with all of the dead leaves covering the ground. It was even more difficult since it was nighttime, but Branch had followed this same path a hundred times over and was confident of his whereabouts.
Quickly and carefully, he carried Creek through the thicket and dense brush, trying not to make any unnecessary sounds. His ears listened, twisting around to catch anything out of the ordinary breeze. His fears were starting to twist out of normality, wondering if they were being watched. They could possibly be followed back to the village by something unwelcome, so Branch darted haphazardly to try and shake off the trail. His gut instinct was alarming, telling him to hide. He shook his head roughly but couldn't get rid of the feeling, becoming more concerned by the second.
"Branch?" Creek asked, worried about his change in behavior. "What's going on?"
"Something's not right," he muttered. "Shh, be quiet." He started to run faster, leaping over rocks and roots and shooting through shrubs like a dark blur, then he suddenly skidded to a halt when a particularly loud crack of wood startled him, his heart jumping into his throat.
"Let me down," Creek said quickly, struggling his legs to dislodge himself from the troll's grip. Branch regretfully dropped him onto his feet and the purple troll grunted from the sharp pain, rubbing his back but then straightening his clothes into place with attempted dignity.
Another crackle of breaking twigs and shuffled dirt came closer to their position and they both flinched, staring into the black depths. Branch's palms became sweaty, mind rolling through the possibilities. A deep, rumbling voice sifted through the trees, loud and echoing.
"If you stomp any louder, we will be found out."
A Bergen.
Branch's entire body froze in ice. He couldn't move, his fear of Bergens rooting him to the ground and squeezing his throat in a vice. Maybe they'd turn away and not find them. Maybe they were friendly. Bergens were friends, right? That's what Poppy said. Bergens were friends. They had to be, right?! His mind reeled dizzily while he choked on his dread.
As if on queue, from the shadows emerged the giant brutes, pushing past the low hanging tree leaves. Branch stared up at the hideous, bluish monster, his terror uncontrollable to the point where he couldn't even shiver. It wasn't just any Bergen, it was Chef; The catastrophic creature that almost ended all of trolls civilization by creating Trollstice. The one Bergen he never wanted to see, ever again, because she single handedly killed off his entire family and made him the grey troll he was today. The rugged demon stared back at Branch with her beady yellow eyes, rimmed in red. Then, she smiled, pointed and jagged teeth gleaming menacingly in the moonlight.
"Oh my, what do we have here," Chef said.
Another Bergen showed up from behind her, scrawnier and equally tall with a foreboding presence. He looked down at the two trolls, his expression barren.
Oh my God, another one? Branch didn't recognize this Bergen, but he looked even scarier than Chef, which was a feat in itself.
"A two-for-one deal, looks like," he said in a drawling voice.
"Get them, Kevin, before they get away," Chef hissed quickly.
"BRANCH, RUN!"
Creek yelled at him, shoving him forcefully out of his paralysis and grabbing his hand tightly. He was dragged into a sprint, Creek leading the way while they ran for cover. The younger, male Bergen stepped forward quickly and swiped down to grab the trolls, but missed by merely an inch. The purple troll yelped and looked around frantically, trying to find a suitable place for their escape. Then he swung out his long, teal hair, grappling to a nearby overhang and was about to drive them into the leaves, but Kevin was much faster and reached for them again.
Branch looked behind himself, eyes wide and mortified when he realized he was about to be caught in the green, mottled fist. Changing direction at the last second, Creek used all his strength to fling Branch out of the Bergen's outstretched hand and propel him away. The grey troll curled up and rolled roughly through the grass and bushes, out of sight and into a nasty patch of bramble.
Creek was seized instead.
Kevin shook the troll in annoyance, dislodging his teal hair from gripping the tree and then brought him in close to inspect. Creek struggled in the giant hand, arms and legs pinned ruthlessly without breathing room.
"The other one's getting away," he commented, scanning the dark greenery. "Shall I go search for it?"
"Leave him," Chef said sharply, "It's that sour troll, no flavor. I hear he's the town's crazy man as well, no one will believe him if he cries about Bergens. This one, on the other hand," she said, leaning in close to Creek to look at him. "I remember you specifically," she sneered. "You're one of Princess Poppy's friends."
"And I remember you," Creek shot back. "You're breaking the treaty, capturing me like this. King Gristle will have your head. Banishment won't be enough!"
Chef barked a laugh and poked Creek in his cheek with her large, dingy finger, His tough exterior crumbled instantly and he cowered in fear, squinting his eyes shut. "Such a pretty color," she grinned. "The brightest of trolls are always the sweetest. Don't worry, little one. Before too long, with your help, Gristle will be locked away in a dungeon, begging me for scraps."
Across the way in a dark cover, Branch held his dizzy head and looked around in confusion. Creek was missing and his realization made him want to puke. Scrambling to his feet, Branch starting clawing his way through the dead patch of spiny bushes and thorns, cursing every time his clothes were caught. He ignored the cuts and scrapes that the sharp edges created, each wasted second something he just didn't have.
He could hear the Bergens leaving, their voices drifting farther away with each giant step. Creek's voice cried out over the wind, but then all of their sounds disappeared as quickly as they came. Branch panicked, ripping at the shrub to free himself from the thorny prison. When he burst free from the brush, he grabbed chunks of his hair in his fists, panic fully setting in. Branch looked around, panting heavily. They were gone; the Bergens took Creek and they were gone.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone