-O-
Taming Branch
By Dreamsinger
Chapter Three
Leaf-vest and Gladnut Brownies
"Why am I here?" Poppy hesitated. I'm worried about you, because you seem so scared that you act like a wild forest creature probably wouldn't be the best answer. Neither would I want to hug you and you won't let me, or You need to learn how to be a happy troll again.
"Because I want to be your friend, of course." That was true enough.
His eyes narrowed suspiciously as he studied her. She found herself brushing her bangs back from her face as an excuse to avoid the intense scrutiny in his cold blue gaze.
"No, there's something else. You want something. I can tell. What is it?"
Reclusive he might be, but he could read her like a scrapbook. She elaborated, "I wanted to catch up with you. I haven't seen you in eight years. I just want to know how you've been." His intense stare was starting to make her squirm, but she managed to hold eye contact, sensing he was looking for a lie. "And I'm really curious to find out what you've been doing all this time." Also true.
He hesitated for a long time, while she tried to project her earnest concern for him. Finally he relaxed a little. "Okay."
She relaxed too, congratulating herself for holding her composure under pressure, like a future queen should. Then Branch asked, "Is that all?"
"Well, I want to help you," she replied honestly before she could stop herself. Then she winced, visibly.
"Help me?" For just a moment he looked confused, then insulted. "Ugh. Typical busybody troll. Look, I don't need any help. I can take care of myself," he snapped, scowling at her so fiercely she nearly took a step backward. "I've proven that. I've taken care of myself just fine for the past eight years!"
For a moment she was silent, a little hurt at his rejection, but then she rallied. "You're not fine, Branch."
"I am fine. I am perfectly fine," he declared stubbornly.
Before she knew it, her hands were on her hips. "Oh, really? Then why can you barely look me in the eye?"
No answer. His glare vanished as his eyes flicked away.
"Why can't you do something as normal as hug me?" she demanded, her resolve to be patient with him evaporating like glitter in the wind.
Still looking away, he asked, "Why do I need to hug you? Hugs aren't important."
Her mouth dropped open.
"I don't need hugs," he insisted. He saw the dumbstruck look on her face and scowled. "You know, hugs aren't nearly as nice as you think they are."
Poppy blinked. Was it possible for someone to genuinely dislike hugs? No, that can't be it. "But – but all trolls want to hug," she protested.
"Not this troll." He let out a tch of impatience. "How did we even get on this subject? I asked why you were here, and- W-Wait. Are you saying you're here because you want to hug me?" When he looked at her, he seemed caught between astonishment and disgust.
"Well, yeah. Of course."
A look of horror spread over his face, and then he was warily backing away from her.
Oh, gosh. She'd managed to spook him again. Quickly she added, "Wait! I also wanted to give you something." She let a rich, warm note of enthusiasm color her tone, using every bit of her considerable charm to entice the wary forest troll. "I have a present for yooou."
Thankfully, like it had the past two days, the offer of potential treats worked. "A – a present? For me?" He stopped, one foot still behind him, as if he was torn in two directions. "What is it?"
With a grand flair, she reached into her hair and pulled out a brightly-wrapped box. "This." She held it out to him, but didn't move closer. "You'll like it. I hope."
He looked around uncertainly. Did he still feel the need to watch for danger, even on village ground? Or was it Poppy herself that was making him nervous?
To distract him, she jiggled the box a little. "Come onnn. Take it, Branch," she said enticingly. "I made it just for you."
Finally he took a step toward her. Then another, pausing to glance over her shoulder toward the village, then back at her. She smiled gently to encourage him. Like when they'd first met, she felt as if she were luring in a timid foxfluff. Maybe she should have made more treats for him after all?
No, she wanted this gift to be a little more permanent, so he'd think of her whenever he saw it. Besides, he was way overdue. When was the last time he'd received a thoughtful, personalized gift? I'm sure he'll be happy with it. Everyone knows gift-giving is my jam, she thought smugly.
Finally the box was in his hands. He began to carefully peel away the wrapping paper, a bit at a time, and she had to stop her hands from twitching with impatience. She made a mental note to give him gifts in boxes with easy, quick-remove covers from now on.
When he finally had it unwrapped, he lifted the lid and peered inside. His ears perked, and Poppy bit her lip in delight at the unexpectedly adorable sight. He really was like a cute little forest animal. Her wild little foxfluff.
Slowly the gray troll pulled out the leafy green vest, studying it carefully from all angles. "You made this…for me?"
Poppy was a little disappointed. Where was his smile? His voice was toneless, and she couldn't read his expression either. "I thought it might make you happy." She faltered. "…Do you not like it? I just thought, since you're into camouflage – It's supposed to look like a leafy bush, you know?" She trailed off lamely. Usually she was awesome at choosing just the right gift, but maybe this time she'd gotten it wrong?
He studied her face for a few moments, his blue eyes shifting minutely as he considered her words, then went back to examining the vest.
Poppy shuffled her feet nervously. What if he hated it? What if he thought it was ugly, or silly? Worse, what if she'd managed to do every troll's worst nightmare – offend him, by implying that she didn't like his clothes?She rubbed the back of her head, unconsciously chewing her lip.
He glanced at her, and his face softened. For the first time, she was treated to the sight of a small, gentle smile that eased the lines on his face. It made him look so at ease, like she was looking at a completely different troll; or rather, the troll she'd once known. Her friend. Her protector. Her cautious fussbudget.
"It's not half bad," he commented. His tense posture relaxed, and he gazed at her with a mild expression on his face, his eyes half-lidded. A gloriously warm, mellow tone emerged. "Still the champion gift-giver, I see."
He remembered! Poppy lit up. "Then you like it?"
"Yes."
She thrust her hands skyward. "Whoo-hoo!"
Instantly Branch leaped into the air with a funny, wobbly yelp. Half-crouched, he frantically scanned the surrounding area and the air above them, his ears flicking back and forth.
Poppy winced contritely. "Sorry." Hoping to ease his fear with a bit of humor, she said in a tiny voice, "Whoo-hoo!"
Branch scowled at her before shifting his attention back to watching their surroundings. His grumpy expression stirred more memories within her. Once, she had known him well. He'd been like a big brother to her, overprotective and always arguing with her, but he had cared about her. And she had cared about him.
"I'm sorry, Branch," she said again, her voice going husky with contrition.
He ignored her, turning in a circle to look behind him, then tipped his head back to scan the tops of the tallest trees.
"Um, Branch? What are you looking for? Bergens?"
He answered without looking at her. "Yes. Or birds, or other predators. Or…" After one last sweep, he finally faced her again. "Where are the other trolls? Why haven't they all jumped out of the bushes yet, yelling 'Surprise!'" It sounded more like an accusation than a question.
"What do you mean? What other trolls?"
"The other-" In the face of her bewilderment, some of the certainty left his expression. "You-You told them about me, right?"
She shook her head. "No. The only people I've told about you are my friend Milton, and my dad. And only because I wanted their advice about how to make friends with you."
"Your dad? The king?" His mouth twisted into a light frown.
"That's right. King Peppy. You know, 'No Troll Left Behind'?" She made air quotes, smiling a little. Her intuition told her that reminding Branch of her brave father's role in rescuing them all from the bergens couldn't hurt. Plus, it might make him feel as if they were all on the same team, sharing a common enemy.
As usual, her intuition was right. His expression softened. "Been a long time since I heard that. Good old King Peppy." He hesitated, then asked, "How is your dad? Is he well?"
Poppy beamed at him, pleased at his show of concern. "He's fine. A little slower than he used to be, maybe, but he's still going strong."
"I'm glad to hear it," he said in a kindly tone.
She smiled and waited, but he said nothing more. Obviously conversation wasn't his strong suit. Fortunately, she was an excellent conversationalist.
Her eye fell on the leaf-vest draped over his arm. "So, aren't you going to try it on? I had to guess at your size, but if it doesn't fit I can alter it."
He hesitated. "You really just want to be my friend? That's all?"
"Of course." She was puzzled. "What else could I possibly want?"
He shrugged, looking down at the ground and then back up into her eyes. He didn't say anything more, but he did put the vest on. The green, fuzzy leaves fluffed up around him. Just as she had envisioned, it really did look like a leafy bush. As she had also envisioned, the vest made him look super cute. Poppy bounced on her toes and clapped her hands. "It looks great! How does it feel? Is it comfortable?"
He rolled his shoulders. "It's good." He lifted the sides to look at the inner flaps. "I like the pockets. You can never have enough storage space."
Poppy beamed happily at his praise. To her pleasure, he returned her grin with a small, shy smile of his own. Aww. What a cutie.
Then he reached into his hair. "I brought you a gift, too."
"Ooo!" What could it be?
He pulled out the yellow treat basket she'd given him yesterday and handed it to her. As she lifted the lid, a rich, mouth-watering scent wafted out. Inside were brownies and other, fancier pastries; not the ones she'd given him. She lifted out an especially pretty one. There were brightly colored rainbow bits peeping out here and there along the sides, and the top had a thick layer of swirly, delicious-looking cream-colored icing with dainty reddish-brown flecks in it. "It looks wonderful, Branch!"
"My version of gladnut brownies. I made them with the gladnuts you gave me." He looked away as if embarrassed, and nervously rubbed the back of his head. "I hope you like them."
"I'm sure I will." He watched while she lifted one to her lips and took a bite. As the sugary sweetness filled her mouth, she closed her eyes in sheer savory pleasure. "Mmmm. Oh my gosh, Branch, these are amazing!"
"Really?"
"It's like my mouth fell asleep and dreamed of the perfect dessert, and then it came true! Wow, you've got a real talent for baking."
"Thanks."
She caught a hint of lavender blush on his gray cheeks before he looked away. Aww. He was adorable.
Relishing the unexpected treat, she chewed slowly, easily crunching through the gladnuts' thin candy shells. A river of savory flavors flowed over her tongue. "Chocolate…vanilla…gladnut butter… Something else… Is…is that cinnamon?"
"A little. In the icing. Too much?"
"No, it's perfect. I never would have thought of it. This is really scrumptious, Branch!"
Again he gave her that shy little smile. The sight made her heart quiver, and she felt an almost irresistible urge to hug him. It was just as well that her mouth and hands were full of sticky goodness, or she might have tried it with the gray troll, skittishness or no.
She wanted to see his smile again. "In fact, this is so good I want to share it with everyone. Could you tell me the recipe? I want to scrapbook it."
The brief spark of happiness left his face.
"What's the matter?"
He looked down at the ground. "I… I don't mind telling you the recipe, as long as you don't tell anyone where it came from."
"But why?"
"Let's just say I like my privacy. And-" He stopped.
"And what?"
"Never mind."
She looked at him, bewildered at the way he'd shut down so suddenly. This was going so well. What gives? "What's wrong, Branch? Branch? Talk to me."
His mouth flattened into a hard line. "You say you want to be my friend?" It was a challenge.
She nodded firmly. "Yes. I do."
"Well, if you're here because you want me to hug you, I'll tell you right now that I don't do hugs. I don't sing or dance either. I don't even do high fives. So if that's what you want from me, you might as well forget about being friends."
About to protest, Poppy again remembered the conversations she'd had that morning with Milton, and her father. "Go softly," her dad had cautioned her. "We have no idea what he's been through these past eight years, all alone. He may have very good reasons for guarding his feelings so strongly."
"That's okay. We don't have to hug," she told him.
"So just go on back to the – Wait, what? 'Okay'?" He blinked in surprise.
"Yeah, sure." She tried to sound blasé. "I'm cool with that. At least, until you change your mind."
The look he gave her this time was positively snarky. "Yeah. Uh huh. Just keep telling yourself that, Princess." He glanced down at her bare wrist. "Wear your Hug Time watch next time, and then we'll see how 'okay' you are with it. You won't last an hour."
Was it her imagination, or was there a twinkle of playfulness in his sky blue eyes? Poppy grinned. "Challenge accepted."
Just for a moment he seemed to catch that feeling, a thrilling spark of energy crackling between them. Then he suddenly seem to realize that they were staring at one another. His eyes went wide and he quickly looked away. Lavender colored his cheeks once again.
Aww. Poppy gave him a fond look. Shy little foxfluff. To give him a moment to recover, she looked down at the basket she held. She noted the cloth napkin thoughtfully tucked inside and smiled nostalgically as she recalled, Branch always was good at being prepared for anything.
The pink troll chose another pastry. This one tasted of coconut cream, sweet and rich and good. She closed her eyes and let a dreamy smile spread over her face. "Mmm… I'm going to need this recipe, too. My dad loves coconut."
Branch was quiet for a while. She assumed he was just politely waiting for her to finish so she wouldn't have to talk with her mouth full, but then just as she swallowed the last bite, he asked slowly, "Your dad and this…Milton, are they okay with me talking to you? Being friends with you?"
She licked the sugary cream from her lips. "Of course. Why wouldn't they be?"
A shadow seem to fall across his face. He looked down and away. "Bad notes…" he muttered.
Poppy gave him a puzzled look. "I don't understand. 'Bad notes'?"
He looked up at her and held her gaze, as if he were searching for something. Whatever he saw in her face must have eased his mind. His troubled expression softened. "Never mind. It's nothing important."
As he walked away, she turned to look after him, chewing her lip thoughtfully. Bad notes… Maybe he means he can't sing? I know a few trolls who are tone-deaf. Or, he's really shy about singing in front of people, and that makes his voice sound weird. Or maybe he just has a terrible singing voice?
Something else occurred to her. Maybe that's why he left the village? Poppy felt a deep surge of sympathy for the gray troll. Of course. That must be it. Singing and music are some of the most important parts of troll culture. If he felt like he couldn't join in… Oh, Branch.
Poppy decided to do her best to encourage him to sing, no matter what he sounded like. All trolls love to sing. Even the ones who are tone-deaf love it. Singing makes you feel so good, so alive! Energized, like you can do anything! That feeling is way more important than what someone sounds like. Branch should never be shy about singing. Not in front of me.
-O-
While scrapbooking their conversation later, Poppy noticed a recurring theme. Branch seems to think that a lot of things aren't important. Things like singing, and hugs, and friends… Does he really feel that way? Or is it that he tries to convince himself he doesn't want things he thinks he can't have?
She looked at the black-haired felt figure, whose outstretched arms blocked the pink troll from getting close to him. I'll get you to hug me someday, Branch. I know you want to, deep down. And I want to hug you, too. I want to hug you more than I've ever wanted to hug anyone in my entire life. I just need to find out what's stopping you…
Author's Note:
Lol Poppy doesn't realize yet that his remark "You can never have enough storage space" refers to his bunker 😉
Even with his natural mistrust of Poppy's motives, Branch has been lonely for so very long that he's willing to take a chance on being friends with her. It helps that several times now she's expressed interest in safety-related issues, which mesh with his own deeply-held values. He also can't help but be drawn to someone who notices and compliments his good points, since like many of us, he tends to focus on those parts of himself he's most critical of.
Poppy understands this. Like all trolls, she's been raised to understand that compliments help raise others' self esteem, which in turn affects what they believe they can be, or what they can achieve.
Poppy has learned to trust her natural, inborn people-sense, since it's rarely wrong, but because of that, she has a tendency to overestimate her ability to make things happen the way she wants them to. She's sure she can help Branch become a normal, happy troll. At this point she thinks "normal" and "happy" are the same thing, but she'll learn that Branch doesn't have to think or act like everybody else to be happy. What he needs is to be loved, and accepted for who he is. That, and for the bergen threat to be dealt with, of course.
Basically, how Poppy approaches Branch is important. His willingness to respond to her efforts depends on her attitude, as she will soon figure out, to her dismay…
