TrollsTopia had never seen a wedding quite like this before. From the moment dawn broke, the village had been alive with excitement. Colorful decorations adorned every tree and bridge, woven garlands of flowers dangled from archways, and shimmering lanterns floated gently in the breeze. The heart of the village had been transformed into something truly magical—a breathtaking clearing where Floyd and Hickory would soon exchange their vows beneath an archway of glowing gemstones. Every troll had come together to make the day as special as possible.

Poppy had overseen the floral arrangements with meticulous care, ensuring every petal was perfect. Satin and Chenille had poured their hearts into the custom outfits, each stitch sewn with love and precision. Even Barb, with her usual rock-and-roll flair, had contributed by organizing the music for the ceremony, promising a mix of classic romance and high-energy celebration. And in the middle of it all, running around with the frantic energy of someone who had taken on far too much responsibility, was Branch.

As Floyd's best man, it was his duty to make sure the wedding went off without a hitch. That meant checking the seating arrangements—twice—making sure the musicians were properly tuned, and personally overseeing the cake to ensure it hadn't been made with the wrong flavor or, worse, the wrong number of layers. But above all, he was in charge of the rings. Two tiny wedding bands, shimmering in the soft glow of the evening light, lay nestled inside a velvet-lined box, safely tucked away in the pocket of his vest. He had kept them close at all times, guarding them as though the fate of the entire kingdom depended on their safety.

"Okay," Branch muttered to himself, pacing outside the dressing tent. "Rings? Check. Vows? Check. Groom—" He paused, glancing toward the tent where Floyd was getting ready. "Hopefully not seeing his fiancé before the ceremony."

It was the one thing they had to avoid at all costs. According to Holly Darling, if Floyd and Hickory saw each other before the wedding, it would bring about the worst kind of bad luck. While Branch didn't necessarily believe in such superstitions, he also wasn't willing to risk it. Not when he had already put so much effort into making sure everything went perfectly. Just as he turned to check on the final seating arrangements, a sudden crash from inside the tent made him freeze. "Floyd?" he called cautiously, stepping inside.

His stomach dropped at the sight before him. Floyd stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by a mess of toppled decorations, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "I, uh... tripped over a chair," Floyd admitted.

Branch exhaled in relief. "Okay, no big deal, just—wait."

His eyes snapped to the tent's entrance, where the fabric was still fluttering from someone having just stepped inside. A familiar voice gasped. "Floyd?!"

Time seemed to slow. Floyd's head snapped up, and there, standing just beyond the threshold, holding his wedding jacket in shock, was Hickory. The two locked eyes in stunned silence; Branch's heart sank. "No, no, no, NO!" Holly Darling came screeching into the tent, flailing her arms wildly. "YOU SAW EACH OTHER?!"

Floyd and Hickory exchanged hesitant glances before looking back at her. "...Accidentally?" Floyd offered weakly.

Holly clasped her hands over her mouth, horrified. "Ohhh, you two are doomed!"

Branch groaned. "Holly, come on—"

"DOOMED, I TELL YOU!" she wailed, spinning in circles as though the world itself was ending. "Seeing each other before the wedding is the worst kind of bad luck! This wedding is cursed now! You'll never make it to the altar without catastrophe striking!"

Floyd and Hickory exchanged uneasy glances. "...I mean, it was an accident," Hickory reasoned, scratching the back of his neck. "That doesn't count, right?"

"IT COUNTS," Holly declared.

Branch rubbed his temples, exasperated. "Holly, please, let's be rational—"

Before he could finish, Barb appeared in the tent, arms crossed. "Guys, we got a problem. Everyone's seated. It's go time."

Branch paled. "Already?!"

Branch dragged Hickory and Hooly outside, leaving Barb and Floyd alone. Barb gave Floyd a knowing look. "Did you find 'em?" Floyd asked.

Barb shook her head, "Sorry, Floy boy. No luck."

Floyd's expression faltered. He had asked Barb to keep an eye out for his brothers; John Dory, Spruce, and Clay, but as the wedding preparations reached their final stages, there had been no sign of them. Floyd swallowed, trying to push down the lump in his throat. He had wanted them here. More than anything, he had wanted them here. But there was no time to dwell. The wedding was happening, bad luck or not.

The day started on a chaotic note, and Floyd was already feeling the pressure. Standing in front of the mirror, he adjusted his dress for the wedding. The gown had been tailored just for him, a beautiful creation with delicate layers of lace and intricate beadwork. But as he moved around, something didn't feel right—tightness at the back and a soft ripping sound. "NO!" Floyd yelped, his face going pale as he inspected the tear that had appeared along the seam. "This cannot be happening right now!"

Branch, the ever-dedicated best man, rushed over at the sound of Floyd's panic. His eyes widened at the sight of the dress disaster. "Okay, okay. It's fixable. We just need to—uh, no time to panic."

Poppy, ever the optimist, rallied the troops. "Satin, Chenille! We need your help, stat!" The two sisters appeared in an instant, ready for action.

"We can patch this up," Satin said calmly, her voice surprisingly collected. "Floyd, we're going to need you to stand still. Branch, hold him steady."

Branch didn't hesitate, and Floyd held his breath, trying to stay as still as possible while the two worked their magic. Within minutes, the dress was repaired, albeit with a few strategic stitches showing. Floyd let out a sigh of relief. "There we go. Good as new," Chenille said, stepping back with a smile. "Thanks, guys," Floyd said, still catching his breath. "I was starting to think the universe really didn't want me to get married today."

"It's not the dress," Branch said, grinning. "It's the wedding. You're cursed for sure."

Floyd laughed, feeling a little lighter.

After the dress crisis, Floyd felt confident that things would get better. But as the wedding party piled into the cart to make their way to the ceremony, fate had other plans. The wedding party piled into the cart to head to the ceremony, only for it to refuse to budge. "Why isn't it moving?" Barb muttered, pushing against the wheels.

Poppy inspected the problem. "One of the wheels is misaligned. We need to fix it."

"I told you, this wedding is cursed!" Holly shouted.

Floyd, who had been trying his best to stay optimistic, exchanged a nervous glance with Branch. "Uh... how do we do that?"

Holly's eyes lit up. "You need a symbolic cleansing ritual."

Branch pinched the bridge of his nose. "Oh, for Troll's sake—"

Holly had dragged them through a ridiculous series of "good luck" countermeasures, including tossing salt over their shoulders, spinning in circles three times, and stomping on a flower while chanting, "No bad luck, no bad vibes, just wedding joy and happy lives!"

Branch sighed. "Step aside." Rolling up his sleeves, he got to work, realigning the wheel with expert precision. Within moments, the cart was moving again.

"I think we're good now," he said. "At least one disaster avoided."

Just as they arrived, a gust of wind tore through the clearing, sending the flower arrangements flying. "NO, NO, NO!" Floyd gasped as petals scattered everywhere.

Satin, Chenille, and Poppy scrambled to gather what they could. Branch, thinking fast, snatched up vines and started weaving them into new garlands. "Just grab whatever you can and make it work!" he instructed.

Within minutes, the mess was transformed into a new, natural arrangement. It wasn't what they planned, but it was even more beautiful. Despite the winds, the flowers now adorned the space in a way that felt even more special than before, a true reflection of how they were all coming together, despite the setbacks. "It's perfect," Floyd whispered.

The wedding cake was supposed to be the crown jewel of the feast. Satin and Chenille had worked closely with the best bakers in TrollsTopia to create a towering masterpiece—five tiers of fluffy, golden vanilla cake, layered with mixed berry filling and frosted in a swirl of pastel blue and violet, topped with delicate sugar flowers. Tiny edible gemstones had been carefully arranged to resemble a sparkling waterfall cascading down the sides. It was, in every sense, perfect; until it wasn't. Branch had been making his final round of checks when he heard the gasps.

Then the screams; then the crash, by the time he sprinted to the dining area, his worst nightmare had come true. The cake had toppled over. A slow-motion disaster of epic proportions, the once-majestic creation was now a pile of smashed layers, smeared frosting, and crushed sugar flowers. Some trolls stood frozen in horror. Others tried, in vain, to scoop up pieces as if they could somehow salvage it. Floyd's voice was barely above a whisper. "No..."

Holly gasped. "The curse is real!"

Branch clapped his hands together. "Alright, new plan!"

There was no way to remake something that elaborate in such a short time. But that didn't mean they couldn't improvise. Summoning every ounce of determination he had, Branch took charge. With the help of Synth, Biggie, R & B, and even a reluctant Barb, they crafted a new cake in record time. It was not the masterpiece that had been planned, but it was charming in its own way—a three-tiered rustic cake, covered in a generous swirl of whipped frosting, topped with fresh berries and glowing sugar crystals. Instead of sugar flowers, they used real ones, carefully plucked from Poppy's floral arrangements.

When Floyd saw the finished result, tears welled in his eyes—not from sadness, but from gratitude. "It's... it's beautiful."

By nightfall, the wedding ceremony was underway. The ceremony space had been transformed into a vision of celestial beauty. The arch where Floyd and Hickory would soon stand was adorned with cascading moonflowers, their petals shimmering like silver in the dim light. Delicate strands of enchanted crystals floated in the air, reflecting the glow of the fireflies, creating the illusion of tiny stars suspended all around them. Soft blue roses and wild lilacs lined the path leading to the altar, their scent mingling with the crisp night air. Hickory stood at the altar, waiting for Floyd to walk down the aisle.

Poppy stood at the center, dressed in regal shades of pink and gold, a crown of woven petals in her hair. She held the ceremonial scroll in her hands, smiling warmly as the guests turned toward the path. Barb came down the aisle as the maid of honor, strutting confidently in a crimson gown lined with jagged black accents, her usual punk aesthetic blended with the elegance of the evening. Behind her, Delta Dawn and Val followed as the bridesmaids, their dresses complementing the floral tones of the décor—Delta's in a warm terracotta hue and Val's in deep violet.

Branch and Dante made their way down next, both dressed in dark, formal attire that contrasted with the softer, glowing colors of the setting. The sight of Branch in a suit was enough to turn a few heads, though his expression remained reserved as always, his hands tucked into his pockets as he strode forward. Dante, on the other hand, moved with casual grace, giving a charming nod to a few of the guests as he passed. Then, the music for the bridal walk began. The soft, ethereal melody swelled through the night air, played by a delicate ensemble of string instruments and wind chimes that created an almost dreamlike atmosphere.

All eyes turned toward the entrance, anticipation heavy in the air. And then, Floyd appeared. A collective gasp swept through the crowd. He was breathtaking. "Wow." Hickory whispered.

Floyd's wedding gown shimmered under the lanterns, the fabric woven with a silvery iridescence that caught the light with every step he took. The bodice was adorned with intricate floral embroidery, delicate vines, and blossoms trailing down into the flowing skirt, which cascaded around him like a waterfall of moonlight. The sleeves draped gracefully off his shoulders, adding a softness to the regal ensemble. His hair had been styled into elegant curls, woven with tiny white blossoms, and his makeup was flawless—a soft, dewy glow enhancing his features, his eyes lined just enough to make them shine even brighter.

King Thrash was beside him in his wheelchair, his face softened by the honor of walking Floyd down the aisle. His massive hand rested gently on Floyd's, a rare moment of tenderness from the Rock King. Floyd, for all his confidence, felt his heart pounding in his chest. The reality of the moment settled over him, a rush of emotions swirling in his mind. He hadn't expected to feel this nervous, but as he looked ahead and met Hickory's gaze, everything else faded away. Hickory stood frozen at the altar, completely captivated. His breath hitched, his usual composed expression breaking into something softer—something more vulnerable.

He had always thought Floyd was beautiful, but tonight, under the soft glow of the lanterns, he looked almost otherworldly. As Floyd and Thrash made their way down the aisle, the guests watched in awe. Some whispered excitedly, others dabbed at their eyes, overcome with emotion. Even Barb, who usually prided herself on keeping things cool, subtly wiped at the corner of her eye before masking it with an exaggerated sniff. When they reached the altar, King Thrash turned to Floyd, his gaze surprisingly gentle. "You sure about this, kid?" he asked in a low voice, a rare hint of sentimentality in his tone.

Floyd smiled, squeezing the Rock King's hand. "Never been more sure of anything."

Thrash nodded, then turned to Hickory, his expression shifting back into something stern. "You take care of him, you hear me?"

Hickory, still overwhelmed by Floyd's presence, quickly straightened and nodded. "Always."

Satisfied, Thrash gave a small grunt before stepping back, allowing Floyd to take his place beside Hickory. They stood there for a moment, hands hesitantly reaching for one another before finally intertwining. Floyd let out a small breath, steadying himself as Poppy cleared her throat, signaling the beginning of the ceremony. "We gather here tonight under the stars, not just as witnesses, but as family," Poppy began, her voice carrying through the quiet night. "Love is not just a bond between two souls—it is a light that guides us, even through the darkest times. And tonight, we celebrate that light."

The guests watched in hushed reverence, the soft sounds of the night filling the space between Poppy's words. Fireflies flickered in the air, and the stars above seemed to shine just a little brighter. Poppy turned toward Floyd first. "Floyd, do you take Hickory to be your husband? To share in his joys, to weather the storms, and to walk beside him for all of your days?"

Floyd's throat felt tight with emotion, but his voice was steady as he answered. "I do."

Poppy smiled before turning to Hickory. "And Hickory, do you take Floyd to be your husband? To cherish, to protect, and to love, through every twist and turn of life's journey?"

Hickory didn't hesitate. "I do."

Poppy grinned. "Then, by the love that binds your souls and the stars that shine upon us, I now pronounce you—"

Before she could even finish, Floyd grabbed Hickory by the collar and pulled him into a deep kiss, causing the crowd to erupt into cheers. The moment was electric. Hickory, momentarily startled, melted into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Floyd as if grounding himself in the reality of it all. The cheers grew louder, confetti and flower petals raining down from above as the newlyweds pulled apart, breathless and grinning. "Impatient much?" Hickory teased, his forehead resting against Floyd's.

Floyd smirked. "What can I say? I've been waiting long enough."

The ceremony was over. The vows had been exchanged, and the celebration was in full swing. The chaos of the day had come to an end, and despite the bad luck that seemed to follow them, Floyd and Hickory were now husband and husband. As the party continued, music and laughter filled the air. Branch slipped into his Kismet mask and performed with his bandmates. They sang a mashup of different love songs for the newlyweds' first dance. Floyd found himself slipping away from the crowd shortly after the dance. He was completely happy that he was married to the man of his dreams but he missed his older brothers; they missed his wedding.

The clearing where they had said their vows was now quiet, the only sounds being the gentle rustling of the trees and the distant hum of voices. Branch noticed Floyd walking away from the gathering, his figure silhouetted against the setting sun. His curiosity piqued, Branch excused himself from the conversation he was having and made his way over to Floyd. "Mind if I join you?" Branch asked, stepping beside him.

Floyd turned, offering a small, weary smile. "I needed a moment. It's been a day."

"I think we all needed a moment," Branch said, his tone light, but there was a warmth in his voice as he gazed at Floyd. "But hey, you made it. You and Hickory... you're finally married."

Floyd nodded, but his eyes looked distant as if still processing everything that had happened. "Yeah, I guess we did. It wasn't what I expected, but... it felt right, you know? Even with everything that went wrong, it felt like it was meant to be."

Branch studied his friend for a moment before speaking, his voice softening. "You don't have to pretend everything's fine, Floyd. I know it's been a crazy day."

"It's not that Branch." Floyd said his voice breaking, "I thought they would have come. Our brothers."

Branch sighed, "Oh. Them. It's been twenty years, Floyd. If Barb couldn't find them, maybe they don't want to be found."

Floyd sighed deeply, looking out at the distant trees. The sky was beginning to turn shades of pink and purple as the sun dipped below the horizon. It was a beautiful evening, but Floyd couldn't help the pang in his heart. "I thought... maybe when I got older, it'd get easier. To be without them. But it's not," Floyd said quietly. "Today was... special. But I couldn't help but think of them. I wish they could've been here. Clay would've cracked jokes, Spruce would've had everyone dancing, and John Dory would've made this big, serious speech that would've probably made us all tear up. They should've been here. I just... I wanted them here."

Branch remained silent for a moment, understanding the weight of Floyd's words. After everything they had been through, the separation from their older brothers had left an aching void in their lives. "I get it," Branch finally said. "We all do. I mean, there's a part of me that wishes we could all be together again, too. I miss how things used to be, when we were all just... one big crazy family. But, Floyd... look around."

Floyd followed Branch's gaze, taking in the scene. The wedding guests were still celebrating, but now the noise felt different—softer, warmer. Poppy, Val, Barb, Synth, Satin, and Chenille were all dancing, laughing, and talking with the others, their faces bright with happiness. "Everyone's here for you, for both of you," Branch continued. "Maybe it's not the same as having John Dory, Spruce, and Clay with us, but... you've got us. You've got your new family."

Floyd's lips twitched into a smile as he took in the scene. It wasn't the same, but Branch was right. He wasn't alone. Not anymore. His heart swelled with a mix of gratitude and bittersweetness. "You're right, Branch," Floyd said, his voice filled with quiet appreciation. "I have you. I have Hickory. And I have everyone else here. I guess I've got more family than I thought."

Branch smiled, clapping a hand on Floyd's shoulder. "You're never alone. Not as long as I'm around."

Floyd's eyes softened as he looked at his baby brother, "And I thought I was the older brother."

Branch chuckled, "Hey. On your wedding day, I was making sure that your wedding was grand. So after everything you did for me, it was fair for me to return the favor."

For a long moment, they stood in silence, watching the sky change as the evening deepened. It was a calm and peaceful moment, one that Floyd needed. The chaos of the day had faded, and in its place was something better—a sense of belonging, of family. "I think we're gonna be okay," Floyd said softly, breaking the silence.

"I know we are," Branch replied.

And in that moment, surrounded by the beauty of the evening and the laughter of their loved ones, Floyd felt a sense of peace settle over him. Today hadn't gone according to plan, but in the end, everything had fallen into place just as it was supposed to. It wasn't perfect, but it was his perfect. And that was all that mattered.