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UNSPOKEN
A Dreamworks Trolls Fanfic by C. Prince

Glitter Frosting

He was in love with Poppy.

It wasn't a crush.

It wasn't infatuation.

He loved her.

He'd known it for a while, probably longer, but he didn't dare admit it until now. He lay on his side and that was all he could think about, the white noise of sleepover talk behind him.

She'd accepted his offer. She'd held him, snuggled close, fallen asleep. He'd carried her home, thought about staying, decided against it in case she changed her mind with time to think. Everything still felt raw, fragile; he was concerned he'd screw this up and ask for too much too soon.

Then she'd looked at him with those alluring eyes. He'd almost kissed her on the spot.

She wanted to kiss him.

Longing squeezed his heart and he clenched his teeth, trying not to think about it. He fervently hoped he'd trip over Smidge and trigger her wrath if he so much as took a step towards Poppy's bed.

The previous night at the bunker didn't feel right. He'd collected Crocko from the library and held the precious gift while he slept. He didn't want to be alone anymore.

In the morning he tried to make himself presentable.

"Going somewhere?" Guy asked in a suave, suggestive tone.

Branch had to grin because he wasn't trying to look good for Poppy – okay that too – but he did have somewhere to be. "As a matter of fact, I am."

Poppy tipped her head up, a spoon of cereal halfway to her mouth. Her hair was all mussed from sleep. He wanted to run his hands through it.

"You're leaving?" she asked.

Smidge cleared her throat and held up a checklist. "Remember, this morning you have a meeting at the party factory, a festival committee, you wanted to organize the Trollberg trolls, Gia's birthday is today, and Aspen Heights is sick. He was supposed to be the announcer for tomorrow's glitterball game. Also, the fuzzlings want you to approve a new building site."

"Sounds fun," Poppy said cheerily through a mouthful of cereal. "They usually don't ask my opinion on buildings. I have free time tonight, though right?" She was looking at him.

A mail bee zipped into the kitchen with a message for the queen. As soon as Poppy opened it a joyful shout brought Suki stumbling into the room, still in her pajamas. She had a letter in her hands too.

"Poppy, Poppy," Suki begged. "You have to let me do the music for my niece's gem day."

A gem flower bloom. That meant Poppy would be prepping for the ceremony tonight. Didn't she have enough to do already? Branch kicked himself for adding to her plans. She needed rest.

"I'll see you tomorrow, maybe," he said over the excitement. Poppy was torn, but she wasn't willing to snub everyone else to spend time with him. He wished she would and felt selfish for thinking it. You didn't fall in love with strawberry ice cream and expect it to stop being strawberry.

Branch set off on his errands, starting with a visit to Peppy's.

"Branch, you're just in time. I'm off for some good ol' fishing on Glitter River. How about it? Nothing like a little father-friend bonding."

"I, uh, huh. Okay," Branch said as he realized the positives here far outweighed the fact fishing required patience. "Can I borrow some books out of the archives for the trip?"

"Oh don't bother with those dreary old things. How about one of these?" Peppy browsed through an extensive collection shelved along the wall, suggesting various titles.

"Those all sound great, but it's the dreary ones I need."

"Well," Peppy's jolly speech dipped into hesitation. "I don't like them leaving the archives. You know how trolls are. Scrapbook one minute, bubble bath the next. But if it's you, eh, why not."

Finally, being responsible paid off.

Upstairs Branch stayed out of the curtained nooks with private books meant for specific trolls. What he was after was anything to do with heartbreak. He didn't want to keep Peppy waiting, so he picked the most likely books. If he didn't feel satisfied with these he could try again later.

Peppy hummed an old fishing tune on the way to the river. They picked out a boat bug and launched off into clear, glittery waters. Branch fanned his hair out for shade, cast a line, and thumbed through one of the books.

Peppy was content to fish and snooze. Branch liked that about Poppy's dad: unless he got into telling one of his stories he knew how to enjoy quiet. Maybe being king for so long made him that way. Or maybe it was the first half of his leadership, where noise had the tendency to attract unwanted bergen attention.

Branch recalled the king being this monolithic personality with a booming voice, a far cry from the mellow, carefree troll fishing beside him.

"Do you think Poppy will be like you when she retires?"

Peppy chuckled. "Hard to imagine her any different than she is now. But being in charge all the time teaches you to appreciate when you're not." He tipped his head to where Branch was keeping an eye on the bug boat. "Besides, no troll stays the same. I think you know that, though."

Point taken. Branch hummed an acknowledgement and went back to reading.

A broken heart can happen to any troll with a partner who doesn't survive Trollstice. The heart itself cracks or chips. In severe cases it splits into pieces. Over time hearts will knit back together in the presence of the owner's troll gem.

The more Branch read, the more he was certain there was no known cure for what Poppy wanted to fix. No cases of a missing heart appeared.

Trolls have a million and one cures for a broken heart. There is only one thing that works: time.

Those were his mom's words. The aged scrapbooks gave details, but ultimately his mom's eloquent handwriting summarized them all. There was no new information.

Branch reeled in the puny fish tugging his line and threw it back with a double disappointed, "Augh."

"Maybe we'll have better luck with this one," Peppy said, giving his fishing pole an upward heave. Branch shielded his face from the blast of water. An immense silver field of scales in the sky came rocketing down at them.

"Jump!" Branch shouted, only to find himself suspended mid-leap. The rest of Peppy's hair slammed into the fish and drove it onto the river bank.

"That's how you land a glitter fish," Peppy said, setting Branch back in the boat. "Take us to shore and let's get that glitter. Trolly-ho!"

Scraping glitter off the scales turned out to be a huge mess. Branch rubbed the file in broad strokes along his side of the catch, spraying silver speckles everywhere. The flecks got caught in his fuzz and peppered his hair. He looked like he'd been gutting the fish, not scaling it.

"Would you like me to show you a trick?" Peppy asked.

Branch grimaced, swallowing his pride. "Anything to get this over with."

"Oh Branch, don't be such a sourpuss. Live a little! Here."

With expert precision Peppy scraped the file against the grain, one scale at a time. The glitter came off quick and formed a pile alongside the fish. Branch tried the technique and it made the experience tolerable. Maybe even fun. Maybe.

Peppy bagged up the glitter while Branch pushed the fish back into the water before it lost its patience and started flopping. In the midst of this a sharp peck stung his ear. The paper airplane tanked into the grass.

Something set off your net in the clearing by the cliff. It wasn't me this time!
✴ Guy Diamond ✴

Branch explained he had to go and Peppy handed him a sack of glitter. "Give this to Poppy for me will you?"

The cliff meadow was a serene spot past the pods on the quiet side of the village. Not as many trolls came through, which made it a potential area for predators to stake out their prey. Branch kept an active trap here for that reason.

Shade from long-stemmed flowers felt refreshing after being in the sun all morning. Apparently he wasn't the only one who saw the appeal, since a picnic blanket and basket were spread out under the petal canopy. A sinking feeling hit him. He'd caught the wayward picnickers. Poppy was not going to like this.

The net wasn't deployed. He checked the overhead trap. Untriggered, net still bunched up inside. Strange.

"Branch? What are you doing here?"

The sound of Poppy's voice woke his heart up from its nap.

She approached from the other end of the clearing. An explosive splash of purple and yellow icing skated over her arms and dress. She squinted at him and her confusion went up a level. "What happened to you?"

"Your dad." He held out the glitter, a trail of sparkles following his silvery arm. Poppy's eyes shimmered in delight. Based on the amount of craft supplies she went through this must be a treasure.

He didn't think he'd get to see her today. He felt really good, warm, hopeful. Could he have that kiss now? "Guy said I netted something, but he told me the wrong place."

"Smidge said lunch with the balloon festival committee was here."

They stared at each other while the odd coincidences tallied up. Poppy's left ear ever so slightly turned outward. She cocked an eyebrow. Yes, he heard it too. Both of them looked to the lone picnic. Definitely not enough there for a festival committee.

"Well Branch, since you're here, why don't you join me for the lunch meeting?" Her eyes didn't leave his.

"I really think I should check my traps," he said, holding Poppy's gaze.

The smack of a face-palm rang out behind the bushes. Branch's grin deepened.

Poppy backed up to the blanket, hands clasped behind her back. "Ok. I'll be here sad and alone making this face while I wait for everyone."

She sat and pulled her knees in, resting her nose on top. Big begging cuddlepup eyes pleaded for his attention beneath scattered bangs. He couldn't even muster a fake grumble at such an adorable look. He joined her on the blanket a casual friend distance away.

"Great," Poppy perked up instantly. "I'm so glad we're alone," she said louder than necessary. "I can't wait to spend a whole hour talking about this wonderful weather we're having."

Branch matched Poppy's overbearing volume. "Privacy? In Troll Village? I think maybe we should save our intimate weather conversation for later."

"You know what? You're right. Let's talk about finances," she said.

"I'm sure I have nothing better to do than list all the favors I owe around the village." He started into his accounts. "Food and water for a flyer bug, using the queen's pod as a base of operations, a coffee maker, enough goods to restock an entire pantry – let me itemize that for you – eight soup packets (four veggie medley and four spicy stew), one burleberry salad, one rosencrest salad, three melons, a dozen eggs…" he kept the list rolling.

"Don't worry," Poppy said over top of him. "If you run out we can go over my accounts. It's all right here." She took out a clipboard and clicked the top clasp open, allowing the multi folded sheet to flip down and across the ground.

"...a cement mixer, six support beams, new clothes from Satin and Chenille, I had help moving stuff around yesterday afternoon, lunch at the market, and I think they're finally gone now."

"Go team!" Poppy leapt up and thrust her open palm to the sky. Branch delivered a hugely satisfying dead-on high five. The smack echoed through the trees, accompanied by the ting of the only two hug watches around.

Poppy was in his arms again and everything was amazing. This beautiful, frustratingly clever troll fit as perfectly against him as she did into his life. She'd tricked their friends into giving them privacy. He wanted to look into her lovely eyes. He wanted a taste of proof he wasn't the only one going crazy here.

He started to pull away so he could lure her back in a whole new manner, but Poppy distanced herself. Her dress peeled off of him, leaving a huge blurred smudge of frosting down to his knees. Silver glitter sparkled on the queen's icing-splattered clothes.

Branch looked down at his matching glitter frosting. "Well, this isn't obvious."

Poppy had her hands over her mouth. "I'm so, so sorry," she said, flustered, digging through her hair. She pulled out scissors, glue, a microphone, the checklist, and kept searching.

"It's fine, really," he said sincerely, though he was frustrated Poppy's uncharacteristic concern with their appearances had ended any forward progress. "What happened anyway?"

"Tripped on a frosting hose." She rummaged through the picnic basket and sprayed a fistful of napkins with a squirt bottle, shoving them in his general direction. Then she disappeared into a ball of pink hair. "Good thing I prepared for something like this."

Good thing he prepared for something like this, Branch thought, picking one of the leaves out of his vest pocket and trying not to consider why he was carrying them around. Sharp mint zing filled his mouth while he did what he could to clean the frosting off himself. After a minute Poppy emerged in a clean dress.

Now that they were alone Poppy couldn't sit still. Her fingers continually tried to tuck back a rebellious bang. She checked herself over for icing remnants. She launched into the picnic basket and distributed items with flawless picnic setting etiquette. Perfect wasn't good enough, since she was tweaking the fork positions over and over again.

"Are you nervous?" Branch asked in disbelief.

"Of course I'm nervous!" Poppy blurted. "I'm scared, okay? I don't know if you... " She looked at her hands, shaking her head and searching for words. "Have you ever been in a long-term relationship?"

"Nothing more than a few months," he said, suddenly feeling like he was walking on toothpicks. At the same time a swell of protectiveness urged him to hold her until she wasn't scared. He stayed put.

"Have you ever felt like this before?" Poppy asked.

"Never."

"It doesn't last. This intense feeling, it goes away."

"I know."

"It – huh?" She stopped her explanation. He'd surprised her again. He may not have experienced it for himself, but he'd read about it.

Branch spread his hands and tried to soothe her with words she told him all the time. "We're trolls, right? Shouldn't we embrace the feeling and enjoy it while it lasts?"

"Yes! No! Ugh," Poppy dissolved in frustration. "I'm not like that, Branch. I can't just be in love with someone and then walk away as if it was nothing." She became quiet. "And I'm scared that maybe you can."

He'd said the wrong thing, then. Poppy wasn't afraid of the heady craziness of a new romance; she was afraid that feeling was all he wanted. To be fair a lot of trolls preferred that lifestyle. He couldn't think of any type of relationship he wanted less.

Given the choice he'd rather be alone than struggle through unfamiliar territory with no chance to settle. He wanted to build a home where he didn't have to worry about the walls caving in. He wanted to cross the hall and kiss Poppy knowing it was safe, knowing he could do that whenever he wanted without question, but right now he was pretty sure if he walked away from the brace he was holding up they'd both be crushed. He needed her help to nail this thing down, but apparently she didn't realize it, thinking he was outside frolicking through the desert toward whichever mirage had the most water.

"Poppy," he said, calling her attention.

He couldn't help it; he needed physical connection to say this. They were sitting beside each other. His hand rested over hers.

"I don't want anyone else. I'll stay by your side for as long as you want me, and I really, really hope it's a lot longer than three days."

He watched the uncertainty in Poppy's eyes soften. Her posture relaxed. They both desired the same thing. With a longing last gaze, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze and let go.

Branch turned his attention to the covered containers sitting before them. "Let's see what our friends picked out for a picnic date. It better not be spaghetti."

The nearest bowl contained a leafy salad to share. Fresh fruit and candied nuts crowned the top. He hadn't tried this kind before. It looked tasty. There must be a pair of tongs around here somewhere.

"Branch." His name, soft, a one-word song any time she said it.

Poppy was still beside him. A hand draped over her lap, legs neatly folded to the side, one on top of the other. All she needed was a hat with a ribbon and she'd look like a painting. Greenery cast her bold color in high relief. Tall flower stems and speckles of sprouts filled the background.

The troll he'd waited his whole life to find chose that moment to give him her full, undivided attention.

Vivid magenta irises met with his own. He forgot what he was doing. His hand moved to the blanket between them: a question. Soft caress of her fingertips over that offer, light pressure as she leaned in. He ignored the sudden jitter of nerves and tipped closer to her, because she was looking at him like she wanted… to…

He closed his eyes.

Under the black velvet curtain a bright melody pressed against his own. One sweet, simple note was all he could handle. His heart throbbed. A mix of relief and anxiety over her impending reaction crowded his emotions.

"Ohthankgoodness," his duet partner said a mile away.

The curtain snapped open. "What's wrong?" he asked, feeling a little sick at her odd comment. Did she not like it? He wanted her to feel good.

Her shy, honest smile put him at ease. "Nothing. I was worried you might not be, um, good at this."

Such an innocent kiss hardly proved anything. Branch felt the side of his mouth quirk into a roguish grin. "Only one way to find out."

Poppy's mouth dropped open in astonishment before shifting to a flirty smile of her own. "Branch!" she scolded, nudging his shoulder with a fist. Playfulness stirred his courage. He added a raised eyebrow to his grin, letting the offer stand. She gazed back at him thoughtfully. Then she leaned in.

This time the intimate contact sparked a welcoming, excited feeling. Fingers brushing his cheek swept away all fears of rejection. The hand cupping his face left no doubt she was happy to experience this with him. It was pure joy. Branch couldn't help ruining the soft kiss by smiling into it. A puff of air tickled from Poppy's hmm'ed laugh against his lips, which only made him smile harder. She gave up and quickly kissed the corner of his mouth. Light, and fun. He didn't know a kiss could be like that.

Smitten, Branch watched her step around the dishes and take a seat across from him. His hand subconsciously moved to his chest at the expanding warm sensation within. An old wound healed. These were the first kisses he would remember.

Poppy meant so much to him. He wondered how much she could feel with a piece of herself missing. He'd experienced happiness without a gem; did she feel passion without a heart? It was somewhat nerve wracking to ask, but he managed it, looking down where his hand had settled on his chest.

"Did that help?"

"Yeah," she responded with confidence. A lively blush sparkled over her cheerful expression. "Every time I'm with you it helps."

Branch wasn't nervous anymore. Forget the food. He wanted to spend the next half hour sharing little intimacies. Poppy, though, was clearly hungry, filling up her plate with a serving of everything. Alright. He'd flirt with her until she gave him another chance. Hopefully next time she'd want more, because he had a lot to give.

The food was exceptional and so was the view. Poppy was an attractive troll, even a little exotic because of her uniform hue. Her rounded, upward ears made it easy to nuzzle cheeks. Sparkling freckles had a way of drawing him into eyes framed by lush lashes; bold parenthesis encircling the playful, fiery spirit that dwelled within. And her smile… he'd never known the source of that smile would touch his lips and leave him more breathless than before.

Branch brushed the soft, delicate petals of a honeyflower over his lips while he openly contemplated the heart of his affection. No, there was nothing that could compare to the feeling of a kiss from the troll who'd given him a reason to do more than survive. Hopefully the surprise he'd planned would give her some notion of how much she meant to him. He popped the flower into his mouth and savored the honey flavor.

Poppy watched him the whole time. Her gaze drifted languidly over his glitter-covered self. Calm and content, she munched a toasted pita flatbread stuffed with veggies, cheese, and herbs.

"Which of our friends do we need to thank?" he asked.

"Smidge and Guy. I think Suki picked the food. She has good taste. The others I'll have to ask."

"I'll make the thank-you cards for those three and you handle the rest?"

As he said this, Poppy's face froze in excitement. "I just had the best idea."

Well, her lips weren't perked up in that O shape so the level of craziness couldn't be that high. Branch saw the opportunity and took it. "Can 'we' schedule this crazy idea of yours soon? I'd like to spend more time with you."

Poppy's cheeks flushed at his candor. She made a note on paper. "Good thinking. If it's in the schedule it takes priority. Unless, you know, a swarm of angry grossums attack the village."

"Don't jinx it."

After eating they packed up the picnic set. Poppy had ceremony preparation to get back to, he had thank-yous to assemble, plus an entire farm full of weeds that he couldn't find motivation to deal with. Anything not related to Poppy felt like a chore.

During cleanup a mail bee brought the message he'd been waiting for. He made a decision right then and there. The fields were going to be choked with weeds this year. A less-than-optimal harvest wouldn't kill him. Hopefully.

Poppy gripped the picnic basket handle in both hands and regarded him with curiosity, but said nothing about the letter. He gave no explanation.

They stood facing each other. It was time to go. The basket was like a wall.

"Don't stay out all night at the gem day ceremony," he said.

"I'm planning to go home right after the presentation."

"I'll see you tomorrow?" he hoped. He knew she was still recovering and they were both busy.

"The day after, I think. I'll send a card."

This was goodbye.

Neither of them moved. Overhead, flower petals swayed in the breeze.

Poppy stepped closer and discovered she couldn't go any further on account of the basket pressing into his knees. Startled, she looked down and tittered a cute laugh that pushed the corners of his mouth up even further. She put the basket aside.

Confident arms slid around the back of his neck and he got a glimpse of those laughing pink irises before Poppy brought her head over his shoulder, nuzzling the side of his face with her own. He pushed into it, reveling in the sensation of her supple skin. He craved more of this, more of everything.

A sultry ribbon of hair glided across the back of his vest, over an arm, winding a soft serve twist around and down one of his legs. Self control slipped and his lips alighted upon her bare shoulder, letting her know if she wanted to go down this road he absolutely would follow.

"Can't believe you used the 'we're trolls' argument on me," she teased.

He released the feather kiss and murmured into her, "Next you'll be giving me safety lectures."

"Actually…"

She wanted to play. He wanted to keep kissing her. The intimate swirl around his leg rewound, its satin caress guaranteeing she would be on his mind as long as he was awake and then some.

They said their goodbyes and Branch walked away from happiness, looking over his shoulder a couple of times to see her set free, racing, skipping, dancing to wherever she needed to be next.

Should he have said something? Nah. He smirked and went to work.

I'll give one warning to cover everything in this fic so I can avoid spoiling specific chapters. There will be direct and indirect mention of intimate activities. My only guarantee is there will be no explicit M-rated sex scenes. That's not much protection when I'm pretty sure I could make even a mundane boring activity more sensual than some lemons are. xD