It was late one winter night. A full moon and a sea of glittering stars shone on a small clearing with a frozen waterfall and pond, all of which were overlaid with a blanket of fresh snow. It would've been a peaceful scene, if it weren't for a certain grey Troll.
Branch paced restlessly, toying with the box that held the two silver beads, his paranoia getting the better of him.
This is such a crazy idea! I can't believe she actually agreed to it! What if…what if she changes her mind? She knows this could ruin her reputation! What if she realizes I'm not good enough for her? What if her father becomes furious and forbids us from being together? What if-
"Branch?"
He spun to see a Troll approaching him wearing a long, pale blue suede coat lined with white fur. She pushed back the oversized hood to reveal herself as Princess Poppy.
Branch's fears melted away as the pink Troll smiled and ran to hug him.
"No headband?" he asked, brushing her bangs out of her face.
"No. Tonight, I'm not a princess; I'm just Poppy."
Poppy pulled back and began unbuttoning her coat. Branch seized her wrists to stop her.
"What are you doing? It's freezing out here."
She batted his hands away. "I'll be fine. I just want you to see my dress."
She undid the last buttons and let the coat slide off her shoulders; underneath was a simple yet beautiful white, crushed velvet dress that clung to her torso and hips before flowing out around her legs. She turned, and Branch felt his heart quicken when he saw the back of the dress scooped down to her waist. Without thinking, he reached out and traced his fingers down her spine.
Poppy squeaked and whirled around, bringing her coat back up.
"Your hand is icy!" she whisper-yelled. Though, she had to admit, she liked the feeling of his fingers on her skin.
"S-sorry," Branch stammered, blushing.
Poppy's expression softened as she took Branch's hands in hers and kissed them.
"It's okay," she murmured, "when we're done here, we can warm up in the bunker."
Branch flushed darker at her tone and words, then he sighed as his fears from earlier began to raise their ugly heads.
"Poppy," he hesitated before rambling, "are you sure you want to do this? I mean…it's not that I don't want to, it's just…once we do this, it can't be undone. If you want to change your mind, then now's the time to do it. I wouldn't blame you if did, especially considering your dad and the villagers and-"
Poppy put a finger on his lips to silence him.
"Branch, I've been waiting for this since the day you carried me to the hospital pod when we were kids. Longer than that, even. I have absolutely no intentions of changing my mind. I want this, and I want it with you. I love you, Branch."
As if to prove her point, she removed her ponytail holder, tilting her head back and shaking it so her hair cascaded down her back.
Branch visibly relaxed in relief. "I love you, too, Poppy."
He gave her a small grin and combed his fingers through her silky magenta locks.
"Your hair looks beautiful like this."
Poppy made a mental note to wear her hair down more often.
Her breath caught as Branch untucked a long piece from behind her left ear. He flipped open the box and picked out the bead with the rose engraving. Holding it in his trembling hand, he took the hair he untucked and slowly began braiding it with a lock of his own hair.
While marriage braids hadn't been commonly practiced for the past two generations, it was a tradition that every Troll knew about and would instantly recognize. Poppy thought the idea of marriage braids and the vows that went with them were quite beautiful.
Even before he lost his colors, Branch hated that such a sacred and tangible symbol of two Trolls' union was largely pushed aside in favor of a few extra minutes of partying at a wedding reception. When he told his Grandma that he was going to do marriage braids when he grew up and got married, she had given him the marriage beads that belonged to her and his late grandfather.
It wasn't until he and Poppy confessed their feelings for each other over a year ago that he let himself dream he would do this with her.
"Poppy," his voice cracked with emotion. Swallowing around the lump in his throat, he started again.
"Poppy, by braiding my hair with yours, I, Branch, offer myself to you to be your husband. I pledge to you the love of my heart, the comfort of my embrace, and the children of my seed. I swear to treat you as my equal, to honor and protect you, to never misuse you and to be slow to anger, to be patient and forgiving, to be yours and yours alone, and to love you with all that I am until my last heartbeat."
He tied off the braid with the bead and fished a pair of scissors out of his jacket pocket to hand to Poppy. She took them, letting her fingers brush against his.
"Branch," she replied, her eyes welling with tears. "I, Poppy, accept your offer to be my husband. And by this action, I bind my heart, my body, and my soul to yours."
With that, she used the scissors to cut the black hair in the braid from Branch's head.
They both watched in fascination as the black hair grew up along the braid and attached itself to Poppy's scalp, making her let out a startled yelp.
"Poppy, are you alright?" Branch asked worriedly. "Did it hurt you?"
Poppy shook her head. "No, it just shocked me, like on Shock-A-Friend Day."
She gave him a shy smile and held out her hand. He smiled back and traded her the scissors for the bead with the engraving of thorned vines.
As she pulled a lock of hair down his left temple and braided it with her own, she recited the same vow.
"Branch, by braiding my hair with yours, I, Poppy, offer myself to you to be your wife. I pledge to you the love of my heart, the comfort of my embrace, and the children of my womb. I swear to treat you as my equal, to honor and protect you, to never misuse you and to be slow to anger, to be patient and forgiving, to be yours and yours alone, and to love you with all that I am until my last heartbeat."
She finished the braid with the bead and Branch held up the scissors.
"Poppy, I, Branch, accept your offer to be my wife. And by this action, I bind my heart, my body, and my soul to yours."
He severed the pink hair, and jumped a little when it connected to his head. After stowing the scissors in his pocket, he reached for Poppy's hands and tugged her to him.
Their lips met in a gentle kiss. Branch pulled back when he felt something wet against his cheek.
He had only ever seen Poppy cry when she was in physical pain, and only twice before from joy; she was always too happy to cry from sadness or anger. But her tears now were combined with the most radiant smile Branch had ever seen.
"I'm your wife," Poppy breathed, finding it hard to believe that this wasn't another wonderful dream. "And you're my husband."
Branch beamed, his own tears falling, cupping her face in his hands and covering it with kisses.
Between each kiss, Branch whispered his newest poetry to her.
Kiss
"As the light upon the leaves of trees…"
Kiss
"…as the voice of clear waters…"
Kiss
"…as the stars above the mists of the world…"
Kiss
"…such is your glory and your loveliness…"
Kiss
"…and in your face is a shining light."
Kiss
Unable to resist anymore, Poppy gabbed Branch's face and crashed her lips against his. His eyes widened, caught off guard by her boldness, before he gave in and kissed her back.
They continued to kiss passionately as he backed her against a rock. Poppy shivered and crushed her husband closer as his icy hands slid under her coat and pressed over her bare back. Oh, she was ready to cast aside restraint and become one with him in body and spirit.
Branch paused, then reluctantly pulled slightly away. Their lips were swollen, their hair was a disheveled mess, and Poppy's coat had slipped down one shoulder.
As much as he wanted to finish what they started right there, it was out of the question. He wanted this night to be perfect, which was why he suggested they get married at their secret place. But consummating their union here was a totally different matter. They could get caught by a Bergen or, worse, one or more of the villagers. Besides, it was too cold, especially with the wind starting to pick up and the smell of more snow coming.
"We should start heading for the bunker," he breathed.
Poppy nodded as she toyed with his black-and-pink marriage braid. Was it a trick of the light, or did Branch's hair and skin seem just a bit less grey?
Branch pressed one more lingering kiss to Poppy's lips before stepping back and setting her coat back into place.
"Catch me if you can!" Poppy suddenly shouted, giving him a small shove and running off.
She paused at the edge of the clearing and turned to shoot Branch a teasing smirk.
He gave her a wicked grin. "Oh, it's on, princess!"
She laughed and continued running as he chased her all the way to the bunker.
Notes:
This takes place sixteen years after my story "We Were Both Young," so Poppy is twenty and Branch is twenty-four. I actually have more stories planned that go between this and "We Were Both Young" that show Poppy and Branch's growing relationship, but I really wanted to write this one, so here it is.
In this story, Branch's grandfather's name was Thorn, hence the thorned vines engraved on one of the marriage beads. The one with the rose, of course, belonged to Rosiepuff.
I got the idea of marriage braids from several Tolkien fanfics. (Yes, I'm a Tolkien nerd. No, I'm not ashamed of it.) It seemed fitting that Trolls would have something like that since they do a lot with their hair as is.
And speaking of Tolkien, the poetry Branch recites to Poppy while he's kissing her isn't mine; I borrowed it from Tolkien's "The Silmarillion" (chapter nineteen, to be exact) because poetry isn't my forte. It was a challenge just to come up with legit and meaningful wedding vows for this story.
I look forward to writing more stories for my Broppy series, "Forever and Always."