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UNSPOKEN
A Dreamworks Trolls Fanfic by C. Prince
UNSPOKEN
A few days passed after resupply at Troll Village. Branch found another black scorch from a campfire further up the river at a lake. From there, he continued following the river toward a rainbow due northwest. He set up camp and collected tinder and firewood.
Commotion exploded at the campsite.
He dropped the sticks and broke through the brush in time to see Lifesaver zooming around in a circle, her movement limited by the tether staked into the ground to keep her from wandering. A dark form slightly bigger than her leapt and slashed with scythe forepaws. A jagged gash opened up Lifesaver's side and she fell to the ground.
The attacker didn't see Branch coming.
He leapt on its back and clubbed it square between the eyes with a spiked flail pulled from his hair. The moleish predator dropped dead on the spot, its skull crushed.
Branch left the flail buried in bone and ran to assess Lifesaver. Clear fluid oozed from the gash, internal organs visible. Her exoskeleton was cut clear through.
"Don't move."
He tore two thick leaves from a plant and cut vines from another. He dug into his pack for tacky adhesive. It needed to be something that would stick.
Branch smeared the whole container around the wound and pressed a leaf over it. He ran his hand around the edges with pressure to seal it. On top of the bandage he put a second leaf and held it in place with his hair while he wrapped the vine around Lifesaver. Green coil wound round and round, covering the leaf. He tied it off at the top.
"Does it hurt?"
Hard shelled insects didn't feel pain the same way trolls did unless their vital organs were struck. Lifesaver wasn't writhing in pain, but she didn't say anything either. She was dispirited. Branch didn't know enough about critter care to handle this. They needed to go back as soon as possible.
Their second return to town was a somber one. He tried to come in discreetly to avoid hopeful trolls searching for a splash of pink. Those who did see him reacted as one might expect. His clothes were torn and tattered, the bug he rode, bandaged, and a permanent frown darkened his expression. Bitter regret at the loss of life due to his own carelessness sat heavy on his conscience. Rarely had he resorted to lethal blows.
He left Lifesaver in Milton's expert care.
Poppy's pod was starting to fade. The colors would perk back up once he stayed the night.
Two new outfits spread over the bed along with a note from the twins. The clothes were what he usually wore: vests and shorts. One set mimicked his leaf vest and camo shorts, but with superior tailoring. The other set was a green vest with a dash of embroidered leaves along the opening. A pair of dark green shorts overlapped it. Each leg had a single triangular dart cut out for character. The fabric was smooth and soft under his fingers. He'd hate to ruin these doing dirty work.
Folded up in the closet he found the leaf curtain he'd made for Poppy. He set it up over the doorway, took a shower, put on the new green shorts, and crawled under the covers. Poppy's flower blanket settled over him like a snuggle. Thinking of her, the kind of trouble she might be in where he was powerless to help, made him queasy. He didn't know what he was going to find, if he was going to find anything at all. His stomach rolled.
Thirteen days. That's how long he'd been looking. Altogether Poppy had been missing for over a month. No troll or bergen had seen her. Thirteen days was an awful omen for a search and rescue mission.
He'd already made up his mind about what he was going to do. For the remainder of the day he rested.
Branch went out for a morning walk.
"Branch, you're back early. Did something happen?" Biggie asked.
"Nothing I couldn't handle. Don't worry about it Biggie."
"But I am worried. You look rather, um, stressed out."
He shrugged.
Biggie clapped his large hands together. "I think you need a break. We're decorating cookies over by the fun dungeon at 2:00. You should come."
"Thanks Biggie. I'll think about it."
Branch stopped by the stables. He folded his arms over the top of the fence and watched the flyer bugs graze. They liked the sweetgrass here, which is why they tended to come back even though they had free roam. That, and the trolls enjoyed spoiling them with sweets.
He held a bright red honeyflower over the fence and waited to see who would be the first to notice. It wasn't long before his popularity reached an all time high.
"Okay stop, stop, I don't have any more," he chuckled, brushing away inquiring nuzzles. The last treats were for Lifesaver.
He found her tied to a long lead in the pasture by Milton's mushroom house. Medical tape decorated with smiley faces covered her wound. She had a friend with her, another flyer bug that had a zigzag down its back. The two approached him. The zigzag bug stayed close to Lifesaver's injured side and regarded Branch with suspicion.
"Don't worry. I just came to say goodbye."
Branch patted Lifesaver's head under the other bug's watchful gaze. He split the honeyflowers up. The new bug was quick to take his share and give it to Lifesaver instead.
"Ohhh. I see what's going on here. Or haven't you told her yet?"
The bug flipped his wings grumpily.
"Right, right. Timing is everything. Well, don't wait too long."
Branch meandered around the village, taking in the sights and evading casual conversation by sticking to "hey" and "hi." Life was fun as usual. If there was a little awkwardness, if the melody and harmony weren't quite in sync, if a party didn't get cleaned up the way it usually did, no one called attention to it. No one wanted to turn gray.
He paused to watch a spontaneous musical number unfold at mushroom square. It spread, sucking nearby trolls into positive lyrics and infectious happiness. Critters and plants joined, reveling in the joy. In spite of everything, Branch wanted to be a part of it. He'd grown to love this bright, silly, completely-oblivious-to-danger community. It was something to protect and cherish.
Cooper's striped fur was easy to spot among the dancers. Branch swung down to the forest floor and joined his fuzzy friend. He surrendered his voice to the chorus, let the music guide his feet, and gave himself that moment in time to have fun. And if the world was a little brighter with him there, the song a little sweeter, no one was surprised.
Branch joined the others for cookie decorating.
Satin grinned at her sister. "See? I told you he'd wear the embroidered vest first."
"Well he doesn't look happy about it. Maybe because you decided to use a satin stitch instead of a back stitch."
"Guys please," Branch interrupted. "The clothes are great. I really needed them. If you want a smile to prove it, then here." He pointed to the corners of his mouth and forced one. The twins winced.
"Ugh, no. We'll take your word for it," Chenille said.
Branch went to see what decorating options were available. He overheard Satin's whispered, "He's really worried about Poppy."
He was content to squeeze frosted outlines around various edible shapes while the others conversed. He didn't say much, simply enjoying the company.
"Are you leaving again tonight?" Smidge asked. She kept track of where he was and how long he'd be gone.
"Not until the day after tomorrow."
"How long are you going to be gone this time?"
"I'm not coming back."
Silence. Branch maintained even pressure on the icing bag, tracing a star cookie. He waited for the inevitable outburst.
"Whaaaaaaaaa?" Guy's surprised whine droned on in the background until Suki put a hand under his chin and clamped his mouth shut.
"Branch, you can't. You'll go mad out there all alone," Biggie said.
"What are you going to eat?"
"Where are you going to sleep?"
"Who are you going to hug?"
"I'm going with you," Smidge said.
Branch cut in before that offer could spread. "No. No one is coming with me."
They resisted, but he had a planned rebuttal for every argument. Nobody was happy about it.
He allowed himself one day to prepare.
Next morning he spread everything in his rucksack out on the floor of Poppy's pod. The lack of singing outside made it easier to focus. He double-checked the list again, noting which items he needed from the market. The rest he could collect from his bunker.
It wasn't just singing. There was no laughing or talking either. He'd told them he didn't want a going away party or a big send off or any fuss at all. He wanted to leave in peace. But no, he wasn't going to get that, because the quiet now meant a surprise party.
An unnatural hush descended on Troll Village.
Something was wrong.
Branch stepped outside but the danger wasn't here. In fact, no troll was around at all. He hurried along the tree path until he spotted the source of the trouble: a growing crowd of trolls down below. They gathered, curious, around a clump of unusual leaves.
Trolls always did this when it was something dangerous. Offer it friendship first, run away when it tried to eat you second.
The leaves moved. Yep.
The thing looked left, then it looked right, but it didn't seem to see what it was searching for, so with colorful hands it pulled down the leaf hood. A spray of wild pink hair emerged.
Branch hit the ground running. The ocean of color parted before him, like they knew he was coming.
It was her.
Poppy.
Her head crowned in a weave of branches and berries, her leaf cloak lined with soft white flower petals. Happy, alive, unharmed.
Poppy!
She saw him and her smile burst into glitter specked fireworks. He was still running. She stepped forward, and at any moment they'd collide. Cerulean blue hair flowed forth and he shut the world out.
He shut the world out so they didn't see him take the queen in his arms and pull her closer than he ever had. He buried his face in the crook of her neck, eyes squeezed shut, fingers threading through her hair while he desperately held on.
She was real. She was holding him.
Poppy wrapped him up tightly. Her hands pressed into his back, fingers digging into the fabric of his vest. She fiercely tucked her head into the groove of his shoulder and he felt the sweep of her bangs and her soft breath on his skin.
"I missed you," she whispered. Her words were puffs of warmth where they landed. Branch tightened his grip.
"I looked everywhere," he said, voice raw with emotion.
It was just the two of them there in the blue fountain of his heart.
For a long time they stayed like that. It could've lasted a lifetime. He could die here, in this moment, with the way she was holding him so close, in peace. Let this be his happy ending. Let the book close here. He hoped his heart might stop but he didn't want to leave her.
Just a little longer. He stroked her hair and nuzzled his face against her skin, oblivious to the dirt and grit, feeling only the blissful brush of fuzzy flocking against his own. Oh, frosting, she was alive. She was alive.
A little longer.
Their friends and family were waiting.
With a heavy sigh he shifted into a more relaxed hug. Poppy didn't follow suit. She clung to him like a vice and it dawned on him that over the past month he'd had more hugs than she did. The queen wasn't likely to let go any time soon.
That was fine.
"Ready?" Branch asked quietly.
"Mmm."
Strands of blue retreated so the rainbow around them could shine through. He held Poppy while the village's arms and hearts encircled the two of them, two tiny trolls at the center of a big group hug. Flower bracelets bloomed and nobody moved. Nobody needed to.
Surrounded by love, Branch settled in to what was bound to be an extremely long village-wide hug. He hoped he could handle it. He'd put himself in the eye of the storm and the only thing keeping him grounded was the amazing feeling of the person clasped in his arms.
He waited for the discomfort of being surrounded by the crush of too many bodies.
It never came.
With Poppy there, he could do anything. He could withstand any hug, survive any party. He'd do anything for her. Anything with her. He was invincible.
The pure elation of the moment carried him away. She felt so, so good. She always did. She always had.
He could smell the smokey campfire aroma in her hair mingling with the cloak's crisp leafy earthiness. If he wasn't so relieved, he'd find the wild scent difficult to resist. Normally she smelled a little sweet, like vanilla or strawberry or whatever soap she was using, or craft glue and paper, or subtle smells that made him wonder what she'd been up to before she decided to hug him.
But this, this made him think of being together by the fire, orange glow and shadows flickering over skin beneath a canopy of stars.
Branch coaxed Poppy to loosen her grip. He didn't want her fully against him in case something happened he couldn't control.
x x x
Poppy was basking in the snuggliness of the best hug she'd ever had when Branch started to squirm uncomfortably. He'd hit his affection limit.
She relaxed her arms so he could escape, but all he did was loosen up without leaving her embrace. Then he settled down. His warmth swam through her battered spirit with a healing glow. She was really glad he hadn't left, because she wasn't done yet. She needed this.
Branch exhaled and rested his head on her shoulder, melting into her vehement hug. How was she supposed to let him go when he held her like it was the end of the world?
Desperation for anything ordinary clawed her insides. She had to set him free, she knew that, but maybe for today it would be okay to pretend she'd never left. They could fuss over each other and banter about something trivial and go their separate ways, and she could pretend he'd be back for more of the same the next day, and the next, no matter what truth she told.
Time passed. There would be no singing and dancing if they hugged forever. Poppy stepped back, sliding her grasp along Branch's arms to take his hands in hers. She wanted to see him.
The thistle puff tuft of hair wasn't as poofy as before. He'd cut the ends flat like an angled paint brush. Branch never styled his hair without a reason. Ever. This was the first time she'd seen the embroidered green vest and shorts. New haircut, new clothes, and a smile that was turning into a serious flat line.
Clearly they had a lot to talk about.
Branch looked her over again and his brow furrowed in confusion. "Where's your pack?"
"Oh, that," she laughed nervously. "I got so excited I dropped it back in the woods at the trail head." That was an hour away.
"I'll go get it." He slipped one hand free but hesitated to take the other.
"Can it wait?" she asked. Every remaining moment with him was precious.
"If it's got food in it the critters will tear it apart. Besides, I think everyone wants to see you."
He was right about that. Already music, cheering, and dancing was breaking out all around them. They were standing in the middle of a party. She needed to see her dad, her friends, everyone.
Poppy said, "Alright. I'll call the royal flyer bug."
"No don't—" Branch grabbed her whistling hand. "—do that. She's… resting. I'll get another one."
"Resting? Did she get eaten?"
"Psh. What, Lifesaver? No."
"Branch, did you name my flyer bug?"
He looked away and scratched the back of his head. "Whaaat?"
"You totally did. You are so weird!"
"I'm weird? How do you people even know which bug you're talking about?"
"You know, red one, blue one, Poppy's favorite, Branch's favorite."
"Right, but what if—"
"Branch!"
"Okay fine! But trust me: I'm not the weird one here. It's you guys."
Poppy grinned. "Huh. Well I guess that makes you normal. That's what I love about you, Branch. How normal you are." Poppy waved her hand through the air with finesse. "You really… fit in with the crowd."
Their mock argument had to be loud enough to hear each other over the celebration. As such they'd drawn a bunch of spectators, but that was part of the fun. Trolls never got tired of ooo'ing at a solid burn or a competition spurred on by one of their play-fights.
Branch spread a hand over his chest. "I'll have you know I'm fantastic at being normal."
"If you're so good at it, why don't you sing a song, right now, for no reason?"
"I would if I had any instruments on me. Which I don't." He pushed a hand through his hair and it came out the other side, empty. Where were all his belongings?
"You can borrow one of mine." Poppy offered the flowering ukulele. It was still damp to the touch.
Branch looked at her, then at the instrument, then back up. A wicked grin pushed at the corners of his mouth. "You want a song? Oh I'll give you a song." He snatched the ukulele and backed away. The focused attention he gave her as the first words came made her skin prick. Lyrics built with rising tension.
Alone with you, no one's around
A perfect moment, hot, spellbound
You close your mouth, you turn your head
All the magic left unsaid
What is this feeling? Is this pretend? Is it only something I'm imagining?
This feeling, this feeling, this feeling
The dizzy repetition brimmed with longing to the point it became angry. That raw energy took over the entire song. Branch put his fingers to the strings in a way the instrument was never intended for, releasing weeks of pent up emotion. Embattled red glow sparked from the flower and vines curling outward. His voice burst over the crowd, loud, with a growling edge.
I got something I'm ready to say to you
Something that could ruin everything it's true
I'm gonna say that word
I wanna make it heard!
This unspoken, unspoken, unspoken—
Without break the chorus tore into a passionate bridge at full volume. Branch spun and braced the uke on his hip as if it was his electric guitar, eyes scrunched shut.
—Late at night
Hold you tight
Everything else in the world is right
It's just me
And it's just you
But I have no idea if we're one or two
(One or Two?!)
I got something I'm ready to say to you
Something that could ruin everything it's true
I'm gonna say that word
I wanna make it heard!
This unspoken Unspoken UNSPOKEN
The last three words crescendoed into roared frustration. Branch rammed his fingers down on the strings so they couldn't resonate, so there wasn't even an echo into the void of silence.
The abrupt ending left her screaming inside for satisfaction, waiting for the settling final chord that never came, a last word never said. The built up energy in the song sat at the top with nowhere to go. It was extremely uncomfortable.
Smug, Branch thrust the ukulele out by the neck, twirled his hair around it, and delivered it directly into Poppy's pink mane. He marched off, abandoning the trolls on top of a musical roller coaster.
Everyone stood in shock at the furious music so unlike anything they'd heard before. It took a few tries for the party to hiccup and lurch back to life. Poppy got caught up in one hug, and then the next, until the tension of Branch's song twisted into a conversation for soon, but not now. She was swarmed with affection as she reconnected with everyone.
The hugs, she couldn't get enough of them. She snuggled her way through every troll in the village. She told her dad she loved him for the third time and then started on a second round of hugs. She could do this all night.
An interlude to change would be nice. She took a quick break, scurrying up the troll tree. A hot shower had been a dream for too long. The most mundane activities were suddenly so exciting. Food. Real food. Her own bed. Everything was amazing. Life was amazing.
Seeing her pod was the best thing in the whole world. Its periwinkle blue accents looked different from what she remembered. She'd definitely been away too long. Branch's leaf curtain covered her doorway.
She stepped into total organized disarray. Traps, weapons, camping gear, tools, clothes, and miscellaneous items carpeted the floor in a grid. Furniture in unexpected places supported piles of envelopes and letters. A coffee maker flower pot sat by the doorway, its petals folded up neatly.
They, er, she had practically no food in the kitchen. The fridge was empty, the pantry cleaned out. It didn't matter. Even the handful of crackers tasted like crispy fresh baked goodness. After a shower she could make a hot bowl of seasoned noodle soup, a luxury after so many meals of flavorless boiled water stocked with whatever she could find.
Poppy stripped off the leaf cloak and wondered what to do with it. Even though it was a rushed work of sheer necessity, she'd noticed the way Branch had been looking at her before he turned all serious. At the very least he'd be interested in the jungle leaves because they made an excellent rain shell. She hung the cloak in her closet.
She ate the rest of the berries off her twig garland and put it with the other accessories. It was one of the few things that survived the journey home, herself included. Her popsicle stick photo collage was ruined, the dyes in the wood bleeding into each other, stickers torn, pictures bubbled with water damage. It went onto the dresser. She'd added the hood to her leaf cloak too late.
The scrapbook of her journey was safe, assuming her pack wasn't torn to pieces. It should be here by now. Maybe Branch was cleaning it up off the forest floor.
Poppy took off dirt-encrusted clothes and stepped into the shower's steamy bliss. For a while she let water beat away the physically and emotionally difficult month. Maybe she'd wake up and still be stranded out there, trekking through the bog at the back of Bummer Territory where everything was gray and repetitive, or the monotonous forest populated by plants constantly oozing beige paint.
She'd stormed the entire length of the most boring place known to troll kind without singing a single song. The journey home had been silent, alert, and aware.
"Poppy? It's me. Your bag is by the door. I'll clean this up and get out of your hair," Branch called from the main room.
Cooper's voice added, "I brought you a pie!"
"Aw, Cooper, thank you. And you're not a bother Branch. Please stay."
She knew he wouldn't feel better until he gave her the lecture brewing under that stern expression from before. He could lecture her all he wanted, if that kept him around.
Sounds from the living room accompanied her shower and the melody she hummed. The company was satisfying. She was sick of being alone.
Poppy put on her comfortable, cute blue and white teacup dress with the heart clasp. Now she was ready to party for real. She craved social interaction, needed to know everything that had happened to everyone. What new gadgets were coming out of the party factory? Had Glimmer confessed to Rosie yet? Did Meadow see any new troll gems bloom? Were Smidge and Biggie okay after all this time leading?
When she exited the bathroom her pod looked like she'd never left. Branch glanced at her apologetically from where he was standing by the photo wall. A stack of pictures and art was in his hands. "I can't remember how you had this," he said.
"Allow me." She pinned everything back up in a pleasing array of color and smiles. Branch went to get his scrapbook puzzle page off the dresser. When she finished and turned around, he had her ruined popsicle stick collage in his hands. He looked up at her.
His blue eyes were wide open and blank, ghosts gleaming under ice. She'd never seen such a haunted expression. Whatever awful alternate realities lived behind those lost frozen pools, she was grateful she couldn't see them.
"Poppy, why were you gone so long?"
"I got sick."
He squeezed his eyes shut.
"It's okay! I'm here now, right?" She wanted to chase away that pained look. It hurt her to see it.
"No, it's not okay. When you left like that I—"
"Poppy, Smidge wants to know if… oh." Suki looked back and forth between the conversation she'd raced in on.
Now that the leaf curtain was gone interruptions would be constant. It was going to take a while to catch up on queening. Poppy expected tons of drop-ins.
Branch took his scrapbook page, the last sign he'd even been in her pod, and slid it into his hair. "I'm going to return Tug's coffee pot and write to Bridget so she knows you're okay."
He made a quick exit, grabbing his rucksack on the way out. Suki waited until he was out of earshot. "Woof. I know it's not really my place to say this, but you might want to apologize to Branch. He was this close to leaving the village for good to try and find you. We couldn't stop him."
And apparently he'd gotten the bergens involved too. Poppy really was out of the loop. She'd messed up, big time.
"Anyway, about the flower glitter cannons," Suki said.
After Suki left, Poppy went to the kitchen to cook those noodles before more guests showed up. Cooper's berry pie was on the table, and beside it, groceries. Inside the leaf parcels she found prepared salads and sandwiches, fruit, nuts, breads, and soup mixes. Eggs and milk were in the fridge.
Branch.
If he was still here she would've kissed him.
Food never tasted so good.
On the way out she marveled at her pod. The blue was different, she was sure of it now. It was subtle, but the pasty periwinkle was headed in the direction of aqua. The blanket and sheet folded into the laundry pile: how many nights had he spent here? Not more than a few because he'd been in Bergentown.
A color change in such a short time was remarkable. It made her a little nervous, actually. As if she was staring down an intensity greater than her own.
Poppy spent the evening figuring out what the status of the village was. She noticed some areas of their community could use some TLC: a couple of stray streamers, balloons, and leftover confetti peppered favorite gathering spots. Glitter trolls Dewy and Shimmer had gotten into an argument and were no longer speaking to each other. Without her guidance there was no progress on Trollberg beyond what she pre-planned. In general, everyone could use a pep talk.
She figured Branch had gone home. It wasn't until after sundown she spotted the special colors out of her peripheral vision. She excused herself from the party.
"I need to see you," they both said.
Poppy clapped her hands. "Great! We're both on the same page. Let's go."
She rappelled up the troll tree and raced along the path up, up, up, suddenly full of energy.
"Poppy, slow down," Branch grumbled behind her, pushing leaves out of his way. He was still in a bad mood. She eased up, but she wanted to get to the top of the tree.
The moon was out, casting mellow light over the land. Far below, lights from the ongoing celebration flickered. Pinpoints of fluffy hair milled about. No one else was up here. This was her secret spot, a place she could see everyone but also be separate.
She had a reason for bringing Branch here again.
He stood apart, moonlight highlighting his broad, soft nose, uniquely tilted ears, and wide cheeks. She couldn't deny she'd grown fond of his face, even when he felt the need to frown like he was doing now.
While she admired him for what might be the last time, the worry lines around his eyes deepened. He sighed.
"Poppy, you really scared everyone by leaving like that. Maybe they won't admit it to you directly, but I will. When our friends found out you were late I had to fight with them to keep it quiet. The whole village would've panicked. And then I had to stop them from going out there to find you."
That surprised her. Faced with danger, trolls usually ran. What had changed? What was the source of that courage?
She realized she was looking at him.
Guilt stabbed her. She tried to explain it away. "I didn't know. No one went with me before, to Bergentown. Not even you, and I asked."
"Because I thought you'd give up and come back! Now I know better. Now it's not like before. You have people willing to risk their lives for you. Not the queen. You. I get it if you want to be alone. I get it. But I didn't know where you were or when you planned to be back."
"You always come after me though. If I'd told you…"
At this Branch's expression collapsed into one of a man tormented. "I do that because I care about you! I care about you so much I absolutely will leave you alone if you ask. That's all you had to do: ask. You didn't tell me anything."
Branch was visibly upset now. He put a hand over his face.
He was suffering because of her. She'd done this. A well of black opened at the pit of her stomach and his pain became hers. The ache consumed everything. She didn't know what to do to fix this, and into her silence Branch kept talking.
"You did everything you could to avoid me, and that hurts. A lot. It makes me feel like maybe you don't want me around."
No, no, no. She wanted to reach out, wanted to hold him, but didn't know if he was okay with that anymore. The rift between them kept getting wider.
Branch let out a breath, steeling himself for what he was about to say. He lifted his gaze and looked into her eyes, willfully exposing all the vulnerability he had inside. "I want to be with you," he said. "But if you don't want that, tell me now. Please," he finished quietly.
"Branch, I…" She matched his honesty with her own. "I want that too, but," she added before he got the wrong idea, "I got hurt, and I don't know if I can. Do you know how troll hearts work?"
He nodded, but didn't come any closer.
Poppy went to the edge of the tree and sat, letting her legs slip into the evening sky. She watched the trolls below, some of them in pairs. "I gave a piece of my heart away too soon. I didn't stop to think about it. I know, doesn't sound like me at all." She laughed, but it sounded hollow. "Normally you'd get your piece back, move on. That didn't happen for me. My heart broke, Branch. All of it. That night I brought you up here, that's all that was left."
She didn't need to explain what that meant. She shouldn't be able to feel romantic love at all. Without a heart she had nothing to give.
She felt Branch sit next to her, not touching, but there. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" he asked softly.
"I was sure I could fix it and it wouldn't be a problem. I thought I might find an answer out there," she waved a hand at the horizon, "But I'm back where I started. I might not be able to fix this after all. I'm sorry. For everything."
Her ears sank. That was it, then. How could you commit to a troll who might never feel the same way you do?
"Poppy."
He waited until she looked up at him. He wasn't disappointed or worried or scared. A crooked little grin tweaked his mouth. Gentle fingers brushed away the wisp of pink over her vision and tucked it behind her ear.
"You showed me how to be happy," Branch said. "Let me show you how to be loved."
Her breath caught.
To make such an offer, even now…
He held out his hand.
Even though this could all fall apart, even though she could get hurt or unintentionally cause him pain again, the other possibility was a bright future together, a future of affection and harmony she was only now allowing herself to see. There was so much in that world.
He wanted to try to get there, together. Despite the danger. Despite the risk. He wouldn't abandon her to save himself. For the first time since her heart shattered, Poppy thought maybe she could someday trust someone so deeply again.
She placed her hand in his, and Branch did something he'd never done before. His fingers intertwined with hers.
The urge to be close to him slammed into her. She scooted over and snuggled side-to-side, resting her head on his shoulder, hands still clasped between them. Branch settled in and the weight of his head nestled above hers. He accepted her without question.
All of the hurt and pain melted away. A cozy glow filled her up. This feeling, it was pure and kind.
"I'm so happy right now," she whispered into the night.
"I think it's a little more than that. I feel it too," Branch murmured.
He was right.
Something within her fluttered to life.
If she kissed him now, what would happen? What they were doing felt perfect. She didn't want to move.
He was so warm and comfortable.
So snuggly.
…
A touch on her arms. Something holding her upright. "Poppy," Branch whispered. "Poppy. You're falling asleep."
The warmth at her side went away and she wanted to grumble until it came back, but a steady force pulled her up. Her body felt heavy. She managed to get her feet back on solid wood. A hand holding hers, leading onward. One foot in front of the other.
"If you're that tired you'll fall. Here."
Arms, silk, lifting her up.
"You've lost weight." The tone sharp and angry, a thorn in the garden of dreams. She wanted to fight it, but she was floating, being held in a bed of firm and soft. This was a place to rest. Here. She was home.