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UNSPOKEN
A Dreamworks Trolls Fanfic by C. Prince

Tag & Tension

Branch recklessly jumped off Lifesaver midair, using his hair to catch the ground before he slammed into it. He rushed a wall around the fallen figure. "Guy! Get Dr. Moonbloom!"

Black and yellow feathers littered the ground from the fight. The dark thing that attacked his bird wasn't moving anymore.

Poppy outran the doctor. He lifted the wall to let her in. "Don't move him," Branch said.

She knelt by the body and looked at the golden glitter skin, the gem embedded on its stomach, and the wings. "Branch, this is a troll," she said breathlessly.

"I know."

"He's just a kid!"

"I know."

Dr. Moonbloom arrived on the scene. They stepped back so she could work.

The troll was small, no bigger than Keith, but he looked to be in his late teens. He was chubbier than a glitter troll and naked like one, though his sunny skin wasn't as sparkly. It was more of a matte glitter. The powder blue gemstone set in his stomach matched colors with the large puff of hair atop his head styled with swooping curls. A pair of small pixie wings sprouted from his back.

Cherub, Branch thought. Like one of the angels in grandma's scrapbooks. Apparently, they were real. And apparently they were trolls. He quickly sequestered the thought and shoved it to the back of his mind so his worldview could fall apart at a more convenient time.

"He's unconscious," Dr. Moonbloom announced. "We must move him to the hospital."

The doctor proceeded to interrogate Branch about what happened while two of her assistants secured a neck brace on the cherub troll and transferred him to a stretcher. By the time they left, the little guy was awake, listless, and confused. He didn't respond to any questions.

The events were a blur in Branch's mind. He'd had a foreboding feeling and came out here to witness Paradise and a species of unknown bird engaged in an aerial battle. Paradise was holding and protecting something glittery. Branch tried to get close with Lifesaver, but Zigs kept getting in the way. The birds fought, the golden figure fell, Branch failed to catch it, and Paradise struck down the black bird immediately after.

Somewhere during or after the failed hair grab Branch realized the golden thing was a troll. Horror at seeing a trolling hit the ground clutched his heart in ice claws. The cold shards of failure were sinking in, now. Poppy embraced him and he stayed there to melt the ice. The critters huddled around them in a group hug.

They looked at the dead bird. There was nothing noteworthy about it apart from being all black.

"We need to bury it," Poppy said.

"Don't touch that!" Peppy called, making his way through the crowd. He stood before the feathery hulk. "I've seen this before. It's a crow. If you bury it here the plants will die."

Milton examined the bird. "It doesn't look native to this region at all."

"Dad, where did that troll come from?" Poppy asked.

"That I don't know, sweetie."

"Probably not the same place as this fellow," Milton said. "Look at the coloration."

The pitch feathers stood out like a target among the vibrant hues of Troll Village. Its body turned out to be okay to touch; it was the insides that were poisonous. Not wishing to pollute the land, Poppy chose to send the carcass out to the fire flower predators that incinerated their prey and consumed the ashes. Less gruesome than leaving the crow in Bummer Territory for the vultures.

At the hospital, Dr. Moonbloom's overly dramatic attitude did an amazing job at keeping curious trolls from bothering the patient.

"He's kaput," the doctor said.

"Meaning… he's asleep?" Poppy asked.

"Correct."

The troll had been lapsing in and out of awareness, dazed and confused. He'd said nothing so far. At the moment he was asleep. He was going to stay in the hospital for a day or two in case the head injury got worse. Even if it didn't worsen it would take weeks to recover. During that time he could color fluctuate, be unable to focus, and be sensitive to light and sound. No parties, no scrapbooks, and lots of rest were the doctor's orders.

Poppy watched the sleeping troll. Cooper hid behind her, his neck craned around and ears flipped forward with great interest. He'd insisted on being the third troll allowed in. Everyone else had to stay outside.

"What should we do, Branch?"

"We can't keep him at your place. It gets too loud during the morning song."

"We need to find a troll who can take care of him until we know where he's from."

They debated whether to send him to the quieter Trollberg on a caterbus since flying was out of the question.

"Can he stay with me?" Cooper asked. He stood next to the troll's cot.

Cooper having responsibility for the teen? Branch rubbed the back of his neck and looked out a round hospital pod window. He'd been trying to entertain the idea of hosting the kid at his house. Someone else's trolling living with him was a huge and unsettling responsibility. This wasn't a decision to be made lightly.

"Okay," Poppy agreed to Cooper's request.

"Poppy," Branch cut in. "Are you sure? What if it's too noisy, or the kid gets hurt, or—" She put a hand on his shoulder. He stopped talking.

"If we can't figure out where his home is, he can stay with you until we do, Cooper."

"Yay!" Cooper cheered quietly.

Well, this was ridiculous. Branch created a backup plan while he followed Poppy around on her quest to talk to all the village elders.

As far as anyone could remember there were no other trolls. However, there was a time before the troll tree, before Bergentown, when their ancestors lived scattered. Old relics hidden in the woods here and there testified so, mostly stone ones. Stone was not a material trolls used much anymore – too permanent.

Branch felt at a loss. Most of their history had disappeared with Trollstice, songs and stories snapped up. His people had been caged and isolated from the outside world.

The outside was coming to them, now.

Branch folded an arm over his chest and pushed his free hand into his cheek. Every now and then an unusual troll was born. There were the twins, Harper, Biggie, Legsly. Branch would have assumed the cherub was one of those rarities except for one factor: Cooper. Now he believed Cooper meant it when he said he'd come from somewhere else.

There were other trolls out there.

More trolls meant more bergens. Did those bergens eat people? His thoughts spiraled. He slipped away to prepare the bunker's emergency shelter.

Before, he would've stayed at the bunker. Now he felt safer near everyone else because that's where he could defend them from. This time when they got attacked, he'd be there. This time it would be different.

x x x

The next day Branch went with the others to visit the cherub. The troll's concussion was bad enough he couldn't talk. Dr. Moonbloom said the damage could be permanent, but over time he might be able to relearn some or all speech.

The troll sat up on the hospital cot, aware and coordinated enough for them to try and figure out his name. Poppy went around their circle of friends and named each one, then indicated to the cherub. He nodded, winced, and put a hand to his forehead for a minute. His sleepy eyes were unfocused or closed much of the time. Branch really had no idea what kind of person they were dealing with considering the effects of the injury.

After some thought, the teen formed his hair into the shape of a hollow triangle, with one strand creating a mallet.

"Triangle?" Poppy said. The golden troll shook his head, switched to a harp, and brushed a hand over the strings.

Every set of ears in the room perked up. The sound was unlike any harp Branch had heard. Rich, full, and glorious. Like an angel's.

"Harp? Music? Strings? Playing?" the others started guessing. The troll switched back to the triangle and swung the mallet at it.

"Ohhhh. He means the sound it makes," Guy said. "Ting."

Ting. The troll's name was Ting.

"Ting, do you know where your home is from here?" Poppy asked.

At this, Ting looked confused, or maybe concerned. His mouth drew in a thin line.

"Well, in that case, welcome to Troll Village," Poppy said with jovial spirit. "Home of the biggest, loudest, and craziest parties ever. And also the happiest place in the forest," she bragged in that perky manner of hers.

She didn't say it loud, but Ting rubbed his forehead nonetheless, a bit of a weak smile on his face and pinched powder blue eyebrows. Bashful? Or was he in pain? Poppy was so much better at reading trolls. Ugh.

Ting remade the hair harp and played broken snippets of wonderful music.

"Not like any song I've heard," Suki said.

"Does he want a jam session, perhaps?" Guy asked. He threaded together a white harp and started playing the chorus from Last Dance.

Ting looked absolutely baffled. Then, with terrifying skill, he fashioned his hair into a cello and bow. Over top of Guy's music he swept out more bits of melody.

At this point Smidge took out her castanets, Cooper his harmonica, and Suki her flower stereo. All of them joined in. It sounded bizarre. Ting seemed to find it funny. He put his instrument away and shook his head with a smile. His wings flicked rapidly, drawing everyone's attention and reminding them what an unusual visitor they had.

Branch and Poppy escorted Ting to Cooper's mushroom house. Every tiny thing along the way enthralled the cherub. It was as if he'd never seen a pod before. Of course, after a few minutes he closed his eyes and put his hands to his ears, overwhelmed with a headache.

"It'd really help if he could talk," Poppy said after they dropped Ting off.

"I didn't used to talk, and look what you did to me," Branch said.

Poppy swung their linked hands harder, a saucy grin on her lips. "I didn't do a thing to you. You chose this all on your own."

"Best choice I ever made."

She laughed. Beautiful, shimmering Poppy laugh. "How am I supposed to resist your silver tongue?"

"Maybe… don't."

Poppy's lashes dropped. "Oooo. Then if a queen may be so bold."

She swung around him, grabbed his vest with both hands, and drew him into a hot kiss in full view of everyone.

"I love you too," he mumbled after she finished and dragged him along by the hand.

The way things were going, if she showed up for bedtime snuggles tonight it would get interesting. At home his ears were so well-tuned for the key in the lock he nearly had a heart attack when a fallen leaf crinkled over the roof.

x x x

Maybe it was because of all the excitement surrounding Ting over the next few days, but the trolls were playing especially hard. Poppy might have put them up to it as a distraction.

During a perimeter check Keith leapt out of a bush and tapped a hand on his arm. "Tag! You're it!"

Everyone in proximity scattered, but not before Branch caught hot pink out of his peripheral vision. She'd somersaulted over a mushroom headed toward the market.

This was it.

Today was the day.

Branch launched himself into the troll tree, tore over the boughs, jumped off the edge and hooked his hair over the swirly slide. He spiraled down and let go, flinging into tree bark, digging his fingers into the raw fury of the wood. He looked over his shoulder to spot the target.

Oh yes, victory would be his.

The gleeful laughter of fleeing trolls sang his backtrack. He could've picked off any one of them. He didn't want them. He wanted her. Their leader. The queen.

He bounced off market vendor canopies and raced over roofs, feet never touching the ground. Muscles coiled and released with each stride. He was death from above.

Poppy sped up when he thudded down behind her. She cast a quick look back, to be sure he was there. To see if he was still pursuing her.

"You're never gonna catch me Branch!"

This time, he didn't waste his breath.

She ran at top speed now. She'd go for the woods. She always did. But this time the distance between them was too small for her to escape. The gap shrank. Heat radiated off him. Beads of sweat.

"No hair tags! No hair tags!" she screamed, sensing her inevitable demise to It. Him.

He had her.

The queen put on a burst of speed beyond her limit. She shot into the woods and he followed hot on her tail. Leaves lashed his body between glimpses of pink. Her green hair tried to blend in. Couldn't hide that skin though. Couldn't hide her flavor, not from him.

He was in his element. Heated breaths puffed from his mouth, his mind filling with scents of soil and woody shade. Dirt and moss churned beneath his strength. The pounding thunder of each stride rolled out between silence of swift leaps, his eyes never leaving the ultimate prize.

She was gone.

So was Branch. He was an instinct. He was The Wild.

He stood there like all the times before, except now he was quiet. No fits, no grumbles, no movement at all. Stillness. He felt the moss underfoot and tasted the air. He waited.

Then, he took a step. Cush. Another step. Ca-cush. That sound, more than one foot. He followed it. He circled the tree and his quarry matched his moves. She was there, on the other side. Always on the other side.

So he set a trap.

His hair walked away while he, the forest shade, moved in absolute silence. She wouldn't even know he was there. There she was, hand against the trunk, her back to him, listening to him leave. Oh, but he'd never left.

The grin was eating his face.

He let her hear that last step.

His arms were around her, tight and unforgiving while she thrashed and made lots of noise. He buckled his back so she lifted off the ground, and he was walking, her legs pummeling uselessly against him. She laughed like a madwoman, like a troll who'd never been caught in her entire life, and begged him to put her down. He didn't think so. He'd won fair and square. She was his, now. This fit of giggles squirming against him. Pride swelled in his chest and beamed in a huge smile.

Fluffy pink hair tickled his sides. He dropped her, she pounced, and they rolled down the hillside in the shadowed wood, both laughing, one on top of the other rolling over and over, absolute sheer joy, a tumble of ecstasy. With a paff they landed at the bottom. She hovered over him in a radiant mess of fluff and freckles. They panted, looking into each other's eyes, breathless.

The mood flared.

They were locked in a desperate kiss, the sound of heavy breathing tangled and tied up together. Her hands pushed through fuzz under his vest as if she'd been waiting a lifetime to touch him. Her body melded over top of his and she burned hot wet kisses into the side of his neck, the noise of her affections flickering fire against his ears. All the heat was rising, rising, needy and sensitive in one spot. There was no way she didn't feel it, and she stayed. He couldn't think. He wanted her. His hands flowed over delicious curves as he drowned.

Pleasant tingling at the top of his head suddenly became a rush of sensation. Her hair wound with his and he could feel all of it, a river of silk pouring through him. The caress may as well have been on bare skin. Impossible.

"I can f–feel that."

Poppy tightened the spiral.

His body arched into hers of its own volition. He groaned and pressed his head into the ground, hard. "I thought hair sense was a trollmance myth."

Poppy's voice purred low and husky. "So you're the one who checked out Kisses and Cuddles. I wanted to read it."

"I could spoil it for you."

Before she could respond he clenched his hair hold at the base of the spiral and rifled that circle all the way up, fast. Her breath escaped in an uncontrolled puff. She collapsed on top of him with a shaky moan.

That sound, coming from her.

Branch rolled Poppy over.

He threaded his hair in and out of hers. He flicked and teased. He pushed all of his strands in so they were one connected stream. He brushed her hair with the tip of his, stroking from the bottom to the top, feeling smooth on smooth, a supple massage. He watched her enraptured beautiful face while he experimented, her closed eyes and slightly parted lips. The little noises she made were driving him wild. He wanted to please her. To pleasure her.

He pressed himself close with her favorite type of full, succulent kiss while he did what seemed to excite her most: swirling his hair around hers and pushing the bottom loop up until their hair lay straight. Swirl, push. Over and over again.

She was trying not to moan into his mouth and she was rubbing against him, jolts of electricity and smoldering desire, and he was probably moving too, and if he didn't stop this was going to end in a hot mess right here right now.

Through sheer force of will he lifted himself off her. What was happening? Was this… they'd almost… oh, cupcakes. His buzzed and now somewhat anxious mind tried to figure out the situation. Hair sparkles were everywhere. Dirt and moss, the base of a hill. They were completely out in the open. How did they even get here? Ah, right.

Branch looked down at Poppy. Her flushed face looked as hot as his felt.

"You're it," he panted.

There. He finally got to say it.

Visits to each other's homes stopped after that. They both knew what was going to happen the next time they were alone. Tensions were high.

x x x

Hug time! The trolls shouted the phrase. Poppy put a hand to her hip and raked her gaze over him. He folded his arms and watched her, hard and steady. They continued to size each other up. All of the other trolls finished.

"Oh my gah, are you two going to hug or what?" Smidge said.

Poppy didn't take her eyes off Branch as she said, "Guy, could I get a hug?"

The glitter troll was happy to do so. Over a silver shoulder Poppy stared at Branch. He said, "Suki, I was a little distracted. Help a troll out?"

Guy's voice was strained. "Poppy... you're squeezing a little too hard…"

Branch maintained eye contact with Poppy and gave her a sly smile. He relaxed into Suki's hug. Firm and soft.

"Woah, dude, since when did your hugs get so good?" Suki asked.

"Po...ppy…" Guy was dying.

x x x

The pillow harvest came incredibly early, perhaps because they'd destroyed nearly the whole crop last time in a pillow war. Branch had just spotted the perfect pillow meant for him, the one that called his name, when a luxurious hug wrapped him up from behind.

"Here, let me get that for you," Poppy purred over his shoulder.

Her hair flowed forth and plucked his pillow from the tree. She stepped back, pillow in hand, and made no motion to give it to him. Everyone was watching. He turned to face her.

"Good thing the same pillow didn't pick both of us this time," Poppy said. "We'd have to sleep together."

"A real shame."

Their eyes locked. He took a corner of the pillow and lightly pulled. Poppy pulled back. He tilted his head and raised an eyebrow while he tried to take the pillow. She resisted, gaze half-lidded. Back and forth, the pillow between them. Her tongue moistened her lips. A lazy exhale came from his slightly open mouth, inviting.

Poppy held his gaze while she rammed the pillow to his chest.

"Unf," he rumbled low, biting his lip.

"Oh my gah!" Smidge complained with a hand to her forehead, this being the third incident between him and Poppy today.

x x x

The next day, at the ice cream stand. Coincidental craving.

"Poppy."

"Branch."

"You wanted an ice cream too?" he asked. "What flavor?"

She looked at him. "Mint chocolate chip. Three scoops."

"Strawberry, with a cherry on top," he added to the order without looking at the troll behind the counter.

They got their cones. They didn't move.

Poppy dragged her tongue all the way up the teal treat, slow and deliberate. She watched him while she did it. She sucked up melty bits at the top with little kisses, soft fluted lips working their way around the crest. "Mmm."

How delightful.

He pressed his lips to the top of his scoop, closing his eyes and enjoying a few nibbles while his nose pushed at the cherry. Then he lapped the strawberry delight's side, flicking his eyes up at her. Long, languid strokes. He slid his tongue under the cherry and brought inside his mouth, rolling it around a bit before swallowing. He spit the stem out the side.

"OH MY GAH!' Smidge shouted angrily in the background.

"Maybe you should try some of mine," Poppy told Branch in a sultry tone.

"I'd love to taste yours."

With a catty grin she slipped a finger along the melting side of her dessert. She offered him a taste. Didn't think he'd do it in public.

Branch held her wrist steady as he brought a kiss to the tip of her finger. Then he dropped a hair privacy screen and slipped the entirety in. He made her feel every bit of wet heat as he pushed his tongue against her skin, licked and sucked it clean. When he was finished her finger came out with a pop. He recalled his hair.

"Delicious," he said. "The ice cream was pretty good too."

Then he walked away.

x x x

Another day, hug time again, and they circled, circled each other, not sure who was going to do what to whom. Not sure what the trick was going to be. No hugs. Going around and around, staring. How long had it been?

"Poppy, can I talk to you for a second?" Chenille asked.

"Branch, a word, if I may?" Guy Diamond said in the opposite direction.

Branch and Poppy backed away from each other, holding visual contact for as long as possible. When the distance was finally too great, Branch let out an enormous sigh. A rush of air he'd held in for far too long.

"It's okay to be nervous you know," Guy said.

"Wha—at?" Branch chuckled, eyes flicked to the side, one hand pushing through the back of his hair. "I'm not nervous."

"Ahh, but if that were the case, these entertaining little events wouldn't be happening."

Branch stared at the ground because Guy spoke the truth. And if he had to guess, Poppy was nervous too, otherwise they wouldn't be stuck in this stalemate.

"You know," Guy said, "you don't have to go all the way right out of the gate. You can teach each other what feels good first. No need to do everything in one day."

"Can't believe we're talking about this," Branch muttered.

"Afraid of a little guy talk?"

"...no."

"Good! So, what's bothering you?"

Branch put a hand over his face, because there was no way this exceedingly embarrassing conversation was going to happen otherwise. "I'm terrified I'll hurt her. I can't handle it if I do."

"All the more reason to go slow. You can't just shove it in."

"GUY! REALLY?!" Branch squawked.

"You're an attentive troll. If things get uncomfortable you'll know, and you'll stop. Simple."

Branch groaned into both hands. Sure, it sounded simple. In practice? He had no idea.

"Branch, you'll be fine! This isn't a smutty trollmance rushing to the main event. A bit of diamond advice: don't even bother with that part yet. There are so many other ways to make love. Take your time. Explore. That's what you've been doing until now, isn't it? The next part isn't any different."

By the end of Guy talk – which included such phrases as "it's about rhythm, not speed or strength" and "thrusting alone doesn't cut a dance floor" – Branch was nothing but a mortified blush, a burning lavender berry. Even his hair started to turn. In this state Guy pushed him back towards the open field.

"Now please," Guy said, "for the love of all that is trolly, please go back to the hand holding and kissing because any more of these sexual tension charades and you'll shred Smidge's vocal chords."

Branch stood facing Poppy. She was scarlet.

"Next time, you talk to Guy," Branch said.

"Gladly. Remember you said that, because you're getting Chenille instead."

Branch looked at the way Poppy's bangs curled in on themselves, wrapped into tightly coiled circles. The tips were flushed violet.

"Better make sure there won't be a next time," he said.

"Does that mean you want to, um…?"

"I do, but let's maybe work our way up to it."

Poppy brightened. "Sounds good to me."

"I miss you," he said, because he did. "Can I come over tonight?"

She wrapped him up in a snuggly hug. "You already know the answer to that."

They spent their usual comfortable evening together in the pod that shared both their colors.

And if the leaf curtain went up early, if his vest ended up on the floor, if she asked for a massage and discovered it was better on bare skin, if one touch led to another, well, that was nobody's business but their own.

x x x

Poppy woke to a gratifying view of Branch beside her in bed, only this time naked shoulders peeped above the covers. He'd been too comfortable to put pajamas on after last night's massage and the relaxed exploration that followed. He'd fallen asleep facing up.

Now that she knew how soft and fuzzy he was pretty much everywhere, the sight of bare skin was irresistible. She reached over to rub circles over his chest. The thicker flocking in that spot fascinated her.

"Hrmmm," Branch mumbled pleasantly, not quite awake but trying to reciprocate her actions anyway. Fingers drifted over and nudged against her tummy, looking for a hand to hold.

Oh, so that's the kind of morning it was? With a warm grin Poppy slid a leg over Branch and sat straddling him. A dopey smile spread over his face; he sighed contentedly and his ears relaxed. He was so cute.

Sleepy Branch seemed oblivious to the fact this happened naked. This early he'd be agreeable to the point of being funny.

"Will you be queen today?"

"Mmkay."

"Can I have a unicorn?"

"Mmhm."

"I think I have a crush on you."

"Sss nice." He wiggled under her, getting comfy. Thick fingers caressed drowsy circles over her legs. He'd sleep in today.

Or he would have, if she hadn't leaned down with kisses and plans for more.

When they finally got out of bed Branch rolled up the leaf curtain while Poppy rushed her morning routine to make up for the delay. Then she gathered supplies out of the wall cubbies for today's meetings. It was only when she went to put them on the "table" in the center of the room she realized something.

Branch noticed her staring while he finished smoothing a clean flower quilt over the round bed. He was trying to be helpful by making it ready, but…

He blinked. "What?"

Poppy looked at the bed and tried to picture it as the friendly communal space it'd always been. Instead her thoughts filled with all the good times cuddling and kissing Branch there. She thought about last night, and this morning.

She thought about tonight.

"We need a real table."

In the end the bed went against the far wall and they borrowed the kitchen table. Branch picked up a card that'd appeared on the floor at some point. "What's thi—"

Glitter sprayed over his scrunched face. He groaned and handed her the musical card. Put Your Hair Up, Yeah! played while Branch scrubbed his fuzz. She read through the note under the popup ?! surprise marks.

"Suki's having a surprise party next week. Nothing big, just us and the gang."

"New song?"

"Probably."

Suki did not play her latest mix at the party, though. She parted her hair to show what she'd been up to.

It was an egg.

There are no music strings in this world. World Tour canon doesn't apply.