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UNSPOKEN
A Dreamworks Trolls Fanfic by C. Prince

In the spirit of shorter chapters I broke this one into two. Personally I'm dissatisfied with diving into an episode this much, but it's a crucial turning point.

Strawberry Wildfire

The caterbus fell through a wormhole and the five of them washed up here, on this island. It was 100% danger-free. Branch was just now realizing this. She'd never seen him so relaxed, though hair brushing was a close second.

"Alllllright," he said in a buttery voice.

"Now that you've proved this island is completely safe, what's next?" she asked.

He hummed, thoughtful. "Think I'll change my name. Branch is so rough and unbending, ya know?" He looked around at the jungle vines and palm trees. "Frond. Yeah. That's my name. Frond."

Branch was totally out of it. It was amazing. Had he ever felt safe in his entire life? She wasn't about to pass up this opportunity.

"Okay Frond, I'm going to explore a couple more of these crazy plants."

Poppy ran to a nearby orange bellflower and smacked it. The plant's petals glowed and rang with a pleasant thrum like a tropical marimba. Thrilled, she jumped around bopping other bellflowers. Branch – Frond – did nothing to stop or warn her. He closed his eyes and enjoyed the melody. She could get used to this, oh yes.

Frond slid off his camouflage leaf vest and slung it over his shoulder. "Won't be needing this anymore. I'm gonna go lie on the beach." He headed back to the others with a wave. "Feel free to join me if you want."

Was she losing her mind? Poppy waited until he was out of sight and flopped down on the grass, laughing. "This is so weird," she said aloud.

Between Branch and Smidge she was never left in the wilderness unsupervised. She rubbed her hands together with glee.

A lot of singing and entirely too much nacho cheese dip later, Poppy rejoined the group on the beach. They lounged in the shade of a palm while Frond strummed a ukulele from his perch up above. A stark white shirt made him easy to spot. Even relaxed he wasn't about to run around shirtless. Cute.

Poppy soaked up the warm sun hoping he'd stay this way when they went home. No more traps, no more lectures, the arguments with Creek would stop, hugs would last as long as she wanted, the phrase "Do you have to do that right now?" wouldn't interrupt her scrapbook moments. Branch, er, Frond, could move into the village and that'd eliminate the long hike to see him. He'd make friends faster. Not being so grouchy, sarcastic, and paranoid couldn't hurt, either. Frond didn't seem to be any of those things.

But.

She shoved down the spark of confused emotion.

Think positives. When Frond came home his troll gem would bloom right away. Her mission to help him would be over and she could start on her Trollberg plans, kick some of her other ideas into high gear.

Thunder rolled in the distance, drawing attention to the overly humid air. A flash lit up the sky and her skin prickled. Dark clouds spilled over the horizon, black puffs tumbling over each other in a rush.

Frond looked at the approaching storm with his arms folded behind his back. He said it was fine. If it was bad he would definitely be freaking out. That's what he always did…

The winds picked up and a twisting funnel tore down the beach. Poppy's hair caught in the wind; she lost her footing. The whoosh flung her forward. Rain poured down and cold droplets battered her skin.

She directed everyone to the boat Branch had started building when they landed, before he'd calmed down. They were completely exposed with no shelter nearby. Getting back to the wormhole over the ocean before the body of the storm hit was the best option. She herded her friends to the makeshift ship.

Yellow, red, striped. No turquoise.

Poppy spotted the missing troll sitting Creek-like on the beach using the wind to kite his hair. She yelled at him to move but he stayed put, unconcerned. The howling rush drowned out whatever he was saying.

Poppy roared, "We have to go now!"

The storm ripped Frond off the ground and threw him face-first into the sand. He came up with a conch shell and blew on it, goofing around in the razor rain.

Poppy's temper snapped. Frond had been fun earlier. Now he was a nuisance.

She grabbed the carefree fool by the hair and dragged him down the beach. He folded his arms behind his head, lounging. "We're going on a cruise?" he asked.

She hurled him full force over the edge of the boat. Apparently she had to do everything around here.

"Unfurl the sail!" Poppy called to Cooper. The white fabric rolled down and revealed where Frond's shirt had come from. Everyone glared at the troll relaxing in the back of the boat. He couldn't have cared less.

Poppy huffed and went to the mast, flinging her hair up around the pole. It flared into a sail. They were on course for the wormhole, but she could feel Branch's half-finished ship sinking. Brutal rainfall drummed over the wood as the ocean poured in via open cracks. Through bangs plastered to her face she saw friends scurrying about the deck trying to block the incoming tide. It wasn't enough.

Cold water pooled around her feet. She could see the worried gazes of the trolls around her, looking to the queen for support, but they were sinking, she was sinking, and when the leader didn't know what to do, if no one else stepped up they all drowned. Needles of rain stabbed a chill down into the core of her being. It frosted over the hollow spot inside with painful icy shards, reminding her how desperately alone she was in this situation.

In that moment, she missed him.

She missed the troll who always had her back, even if he complained every step of the way. She missed the guy who followed her to Bergentown even though he was deathly afraid of bergens, the guy who climbed bird peak despite the fact birds terrified him, the guy who raced full throttle into danger every time someone was in trouble. The one who was a voice of reason when no one else wanted to be. Who suffered the same splitting headache right beside her and helped clean up the mess after.

She relied on him now. Probably too much. How had he weaseled his way so completely into her life? Agh, cupcakes.

Poppy turned. Branch was still sitting against the cabin. His smile was gone and the water lapped around him, but he hadn't moved. She didn't know whether he was toying with her or if the island had messed his head up. It didn't matter. She needed the real Branch, the one she knew and cared for, quirks and all.

Her hair pulled at the mast as she struggled against the wind and rain and water sloshing at her feet to reach him. Over the torrential roar she said she was sorry, tried to convince him to come back, took him by the shirt collar, put her hands on his shoulders, but the thoughts behind those calculating blue eyes were a mystery. Was this working?

"We need you," she said. "We need Branch."

It was too much. She couldn't have this conversation and also steer the ship. A powerful gale struck. All she knew was that her feet weren't wet anymore and her hair was free. Angry gray sea water spun beneath her. Then the water was everywhere.

Poppy broke the surface, gasping. Shark fins circled. She panicked.

Her friends were still on the sinking ship. She had to get back. Choking down her initial terror, she swam to the boat. Smidge hair-grabbed her as soon as she was in reach.

Of course Branch had dove over the railing in such a blind panic he'd missed the part where she swam back herself. Poppy sighed and said, "Help me pull him up, will you?"

Together they reeled in the lifeline Branch had tied around himself. Once he was back on board, Poppy had to know who she was dealing with. "Frond?"

"No. It's Branch." He smiled apologetically.

She'd never been so relieved. There was Branch, with his tools out, fixing everything and making it better. He moved through repairs in order of priority with absolute confidence, rapidly hammering pieces of wood into larger cracks and scraping tree resin over gaps. Drilling pilot holes and pulling handfuls of screws from seemingly nowhere, sinking one after the other into the frame, zip zip zip. He was so resourceful. She watched him work his magic, hardly aware she was bailing water over the edge.

Since when did relief feel so warm?

This… maybe they were spending too much time together. The queen shouldn't depend on one person to come to the rescue all the time. As for Branch, he'd said it himself: plenty of trolls in the troll tree. It'd be healthy for him to have other friends besides her and the gang. A little push and he might notice the connections he had with other people, might even find a troll or trolls to… be with… ugh, the ship's rocking must be making her seasick.

She hadn't meant for the subject to come up the way it did, but, well, moment of opportunity.

x x x

Branch spent all afternoon tracking the lone growlbeast. It was getting too close to the village. At night most trolls would be safe up off the ground, but dusk was far too early for bed and most folks were still out and about. Fortunately the beast's path headed toward Misty Meadows. He could lay a trap for it there.

He crept back into the underbrush and headed the creature off. As he came to the open meadow he heard voices. Great.

Three trolls were setting up a moonlight picnic. Branch narrowed his eyes at the unwelcome neon magenta color. He hurried across the field.

"You guys need to get out of here right now. There's a growlbeast on its way."

Creek remained sitting, legs folded, fingers encircled in an O. He didn't open his eyes. "Branch, must you ruin everything?"

"This is not a trick, I swear," Branch insisted while Creek's friends backed away from the impending fight. "I need you to leave so I can catch this thing."

Creek opened an eye. "Not a trick? Like the time you needed rescuing at the waterfall."

"That was—"

"Or the time you single-handedly ruined an entire basket of Poppy's invitations?"

"I see what you're doing," Branch sussed through clenched teeth, "and if you don't move I'll drag you by the hair myself."

Creek sighed heavily and stood. "Fine. You want the view all to yourself, we'll find some other place to – merciful mantra!"

"Run!"

The four trolls darted for cover, the growlbeast's thunderous gait quickly closing the distance on open grass.

They hit the treeline at full speed. Branch couldn't get control of the situation with the beast breathing down their necks. It herded them up against a sheer rock cliff. There was nothing to hair grab to climb up, and the large predator blocked the way forward. It roared. The sound immobilized Creek's friends.

"It's going to swallow us whole!" Creek cried.

"Wrong!" he shouted back. "It'll chew us up first!"

Curse Creek for the distraction. The growlbeast's shadow fell over them. What was that high-pitched noise? Ah, yes, that was him. Screaming the same as everyone else.

The killing blow was cut short by a loud thump. The predator wheezed. Air cracked with a flurry of fur and hair. Branch opened his eyes to the sight of Poppy and Smidge fighting the hungry mass of claws and teeth.

He sobered up.

"Quick! This way," Branch said. Creek's friends ran along the cliff but Creek himself was paralyzed with fright. Branch grabbed the coward's wrist and flung him toward the escape route. He followed the group until they were out of the death trap, then turned to go back. The fight, however, was already over.

Poppy came out of the forest like a strawberry wildfire. Her flower headband was gone and muddy claw marks ripped over her torn dress. Beside her, Smidge's glare burned in frozen ice. One of Smidge's arms hung uselessly at her side.

"Branch!" Poppy barked. "A word."

Creek wasn't gloating. This was bad. Branch slunk over to the furious duo.

"Did you lead that growlbeast into the village on purpose?"

"No." He despised Creek, but he wasn't insane.

"These arguments with Creek need to stop."

It wasn't a request. This was an order. One he knew he wouldn't be able to follow. He was not about to tell The Queen that, though.

"The next time this happens, there will be consequences. Maybe being queen looks like all fun and games to you. Well, it's not. This isn't fun for me. When harmony falls so off key it puts people at risk I have to step in. It's about safety. I thought you of all trolls would understand that."

Branch was being annihilated. Even though he wanted to disappear into a hole and hide, he couldn't help but be amazed by how terrifying Poppy was in this moment.

Unbound by the tiara and disarrayed by the fight, her wild hair twisted with a life of its own. The molten lava rings of her eyes kept him pinned on a little island where there was no escape. Freckles glittered like knives.

She was beautiful.

He couldn't stop staring.

How had he ever doubted she'd be a competent queen? He wished he could send a picture of this moment back in time just to see the sorry look on his gray face. That poor fool thought he knew Poppy. He had no idea. None.

When she was finished dumping all the responsibility for Creek's friendship on him, she relaxed. "Branch, you're one of my best friends and I care about you so much, but tonight could've been avoided if you didn't argue with Creek about everything."

Logical.

"And," Poppy continued, not about to let him off the hook, "I can't hold your hand the whole way. I expect you to make some new friends on your own."

He rubbed the back of his head. "This is a lot to take in." Getting to know a complete stranger was a challenge. Getting along with Creek, impossible.

Poppy put a hand on his shoulder. "I believe in you."

After all the fire, her lovely smile was a treat. She believed in him? Fine. He'd prove he could do this troll thing just as well as anybody else. Maybe then she'd respect him, really respect him. Maybe she'd trust he was doing the right thing. Maybe she'd seek out his opinions.

Maybe she'd brush his hair again.

She said, "Now I have to check on the others. Why don't you take Smidge to wake up Dr. Moonbloom?"

Judging by the gruff way Poppy commanded Creek's name after that, more than one troll was getting their ears chewed off tonight. A vindictive grin crossed Branch's face.

The smile petered out. He didn't like the way Smidge was holding her arm as if it might fall off. They headed to the village together. Branch figured she was angry with him as well. "Sorry about all that," he said.

"Hearing you scream like a baby and seeing Poppy completely destroy you? I'd pay both arms to see it again."

According to Dr. Moonbloom, Smidge was lucky her shoulder would heal without surgery. She was still in for a few weeks of recovery.

The next day Branch set about fulfilling Poppy's request to make friends. He sat at a mushroom table in the marketplace coming up with strategies, sipping a tea.

Greeting the barista was a normal part of business. You couldn't get to know someone through everyday greetings. Was he supposed to go up to a random free troll and start a conversation? That seemed creepy. What if he asked to sit with the guy having a stoutberry juice at the table over there? No. He'd have to get up and move and it'd be weird. How did normal people do this?

In the end he decided to visit somebody he'd met before.

Tug Duluth's tour kiosk was open today. He waited for a lull in activity before walking up.

"Branch!" The bright troll threw her hands out with enthusiasm. "What new wonders are you ready to delight the village with next? Treacherous caverns? Haunted marshes? A candy mountain?" Tug pulled out a notepad and pen. "I am listening very closely."

He warned her about the growlbeast by Misty Meadows. He doubted it would be back, but they needed to keep an eye out. "Also, there's an unstable wormhole at the base of the lookoff. Do not go in there."

"And noted. And noted." She scribbled it down and looked at him expectantly. This was his chance. He rifled through his hair for the rolled up parchment.

"I do have something new, but here's the thing. Poppy says I have to make friends of my own, so…"

The tour guide burst into a jingle of Tug laughter. "Fun fact: we are already friends. So yes, I'll agree to that."

Branch felt silly for asking. He wondered if he had more friends than he realized.

He unrolled the map showing a route to the Fountain of Glitter, a place fairly close to the village, and pointed out potential dangers on the trail. A gentle male voice interrupted his explanation. "Excuse me, you're one of Smidge's friends, right?"

Branch let Tug have the map and stepped to the side to talk to this new lilac colored troll. "Uh. Yes."

"Oh good. I'm so glad I recognized you. Is she okay? I heard something went wrong. Ah, excuse me, where are my manners. Milton Moss."

"Branch." He shook the critternarian's outstretched hand. He remembered Smidge's crush but hadn't officially met him, per se. "Smidge needs to rest but she'll be fine."

Though she'd probably melt if she could see how worried Milton was right now.

"Do you think you could give this to her?" Milton offered a pink envelope. "Ah, it comes with a gift." He fumbled around in his hair.

Oooooo boy. Branch placed two fingers on the letter and lightly pushed it down. "Don't you think it'd be better to bring these yourself?"

"Me?" Milton blushed. "Oh, I couldn't. Smidge is so strong and independent. I doubt she'd want someone like me bumbling around. I just want her to feel better."

Branch regarded the pink envelope and the matching, carefully wrapped yellow and mint gift box. "Yeah. Deliver these in person. Trust me on this one."

Milton reluctantly withdrew the items. "If you're so sure, then may I be so bold as to ask which pod is hers?"

"Queen Poppy's, go down the path, left at the fork. Big yellow mint pod with pink spots. Triangular shaped peel-down door. Can't miss it."

Even he could see the hesitation in Milton's posture. If Branch didn't intervene there was a chance the gentleman would get cold feet. "You know what? I'll take you there myself."

And so he made two friends in one day. That'd show Poppy. Or at least it would, if he could get her attention. Ever since the island trip she'd been flighty, almost like…

Nah, Poppy didn't avoid people. That couldn't be it.

Could it?