-O-

Picturebook Romance

A Trolls fanfic

By Dreamsinger

Chapter Eighteen

A New Kind of Family

The loving touch of a hand on my hair lifted the recent undercurrent of memories to the surface of my sleeping mind, memories of comfort and fear, contentment and anguish; of milestones reached and challenges met. I dreamed of big hands ruffling my hair, playful and affectionate, but I pushed them away, rejecting the hands and the love they offered. I dreamed of mistakes made and forgiveness given, of trust earned and then lost. I dreamed of a heart-rending scene in a doctor's pod, and a final loss of hope.

-O-

When I was almost ten years old, I got my last chance to find a real family, and I succeeded.

Unfortunately.

-O-

After the uproar I'd caused when I slapped Princess Poppy, King Peppy had chosen a new set of foster parents for me. Jaunty and Courtley Nimble, two of the most well-respected males in the village.

They were both superb athletes, big and strong and quick-moving. Each of them coached half a dozen teams, and they had a tendency to use a lot of sports metaphors. I was small and skinny for my age, but they really seemed to enjoy playing sports with me anyway. I couldn't help being flattered by that.

Jaunty was a vivid magenta glitter-troll with aqua-blue eyes, nose and hair. He was bright and cheerful and easygoing, always full of energy. He loved to tell corny jokes, often accompanied by enthusiastic poofs of glitter.

Courtley was all shades of purple; light purple skin, a mid-purple nose and a handsome sheaf of dark purple hair, with blue eyes like mine. Courtley was more serious – not as extreme as me, of course – and contemplative. He liked to think aloud and ask my opinions about things, speaking with a melodious lilt that made even inconsequential things sound interesting.

Life with Jaunty and Courtley was different from anywhere I'd ever lived. For one thing, they were older than most of the couples I'd lived with: Jaunty was 35 and Courtley, 38. They seemed wiser than other trolls, too; more experienced, with a calm, steady self-assurance that made me feel safer and more settled than I could ever remember being with any other family. I really looked up to them.

One of the things I found I appreciated about my newest foster dads was how they let me make my own choices, instead of trying to convince me that whatever I wanted was wrong or unnecessary. For example, as kind and accommodating as my previous foster families had been, none of them had ever gone along with my request for a space that was entirely my own, choosing instead to keep me in a hair-alcove near them as if I was still a baby.

But when I asked for a room of my own, my newest foster dads had called in some friends of theirs, a family of builders called the Whizbangs. I got to watch them expand our pod and modify its insides to create a small room for me on one side, which was pretty cool. I liked seeing them bring in stacks of supplies and turn them into something real.

They had a daughter named Laurel who was four years older than me. I found her really easy to talk to. She told me about engineering and architecture and design and managed to make it sound really fun, and useful, too, unlike a lot of other troll hobbies.

"Looks like you made a new friend," Courtley commented later.

Jaunty turned around and showered me in confetti-glitter. "Yay! Congratulations!"

"A friend?" Embarrassed, I waved a hand in the air. "Nah, she was just telling me about building stuff, that's all."

-O-

I really admired my new foster parents, even though it took a while for us to get used to each other. We often had misunderstandings, to which I would usually overreact, but rather than get upset themselves, somehow they really seemed to understand me. I didn't even notice how quickly I had begun to settle in, to think of the two of them as people who would always be there to help me with whatever I needed.

Then, a few weeks after I first came to live with them, there was, as Jaunty would put it, a real game-changer.

A desperate shout cracked the night.

"No! Stop!"

I woke with a jolt, reflexively tossing my blanket aside. It snagged my feet and I fell off my bed onto the rug, banging my elbow hard. Panicking, I scrambled up and dashed to my foster dads' bedroom.

As I burst into the room I saw them sitting on their bed, where Jaunty was offering a tissue to Courtley, his face full of concern. Both of them had rumpled bed-heads and Courtley wore pajamas.

And he'd been crying.

An icy chill went through me, nailing my feet to the floor.

"Branch." For the first time, Jaunty had lost his trademark easygoing attitude.

Then he must have noticed my scared expression, hiding his worry behind a not-very-convincing mask of casualness. "Oh, uh, hey, little dude. Sorry to wake you."

Courtley reached up to wipe the wetness on his cheeks, but didn't speak. I sensed that things were worse than they were trying to pretend and sudden terror made my stomach dive.

"What's going on? Are they here?" I whispered. "They are, aren't they?"

They stared at me, eyes wide. My instincts kicked in and I rushed to the window and looked out, listening hard, twisting my ears in every direction.

"Branch," Jaunty said softly. "It's all right. He just had a bad dream."

I ignored him, searching for the real reason for Courtley's distress.

Only the usual nightly critter chorus filled my ears. Finally, shivering from cold and nerves and rubbing my sore elbow, I turned around to see the two of them giving me such compassionate looks that it embarrassed me.

"Courtley really did just have a bad dream. Sorry for scaring you, little buddy. Um, would you like to come over here and help me comfort him?"

I glanced at the wistful look on Courtley's tearstained face as he opened his arms for a hug, and backed away.All this time, I'd thought of them as strong and capable, trolls I could finally depend on, but they weren't. They were just as vulnerable as any other troll, and suddenly I was so angry and upset I couldn't stand it.

My voice shook. "I'm…I'm sorry. I just can't!"

I spun around and ran back to my alcove, throwing myself onto my bed and wrapping myself tightly in my hair.

Jaunty and Courtley came to talk to me, but I stayed curled up inside my hair-cocoon.

"We're sorry we scared you, lad."

"We know you're not ready yet to let anyone be close to you, to let them in, in case you lose them. We get it, little dude."

I didn't say anything. My confidence in them had been severely shaken.

After a long pause, Courtley said softly, "I might have been the same way when I lost the last of my family, except Jaunty wouldn't let me. We grew up together and have always loved one another, first as best friends, and later as a happily married couple. It took time, though. Like you, I was afraid to let anyone in. But once I did, it made such a difference in my life, little one. It was well worth the risk. I hope one day we can do the same for you."

They waited for a while, but I wouldn't answer them. Finally they went away and I relaxed enough to let myself cry.

But he had sounded different than my other foster parents. None of them have ever understood before. But he said he was afraid to love someone, just like me. Maybe…maybe they're right. Maybe I should try to-

A flash of fear and guilt made me clamp down on that thought as the memory of Courtley's sad yet hopeful face appeared in my mind's eye. He reached out to me for comfort, and I turned away from him. He needed me, and I failed him, I failed both of them. I cringed at the memory. All they want is for me to love them, but I can't do it. Not now, and maybe not ever. For the first time since I'd come to live with them, I cried myself to sleep.

After that, I sometimes said or did something rude or ducked away when they tried to give me an affectionate pat on the back or ruffled my hair. I didn't want them to care for me because it would hurt them more when I left. I had enough guilt to carry around with me already. The worst part was, I actually wanted to love them. But I didn't dare.

Most of the time, though, the atmosphere in our pod was laid-back, relaxed. It took time, but I learned to keep up with their playful banter, although whenever conversations got serious I pulled away emotionally, and sometimes physically. Even when I didn't I'd usually end up squirming and uncomfortable.

Fortunately they didn't seem inclined to push me to open up and spill out my feelings the way all my other foster parents had, which made it a lot easier to spend time with them without being constantly on guard. And without so much guilt and reminders of my past, I stopped having meltdowns, at least at home.

The healthy diet and vigorous exercise helped a lot, too. I began to sleep through the night, instead of staring up at the pod's dome for hours or waking too early and not being able to get back to sleep.

For me, home had finally become the place of solace that other trolls took for granted.

-O-

Living with Jaunty and Courtley was different in other ways, too; better than I'd ever had it, even if it hadn't started out that way. Unlike my other foster parents, they never told me the bergens weren't a danger to us anymore. And they told me a few things about them that made me feel a little more at ease.

When I'd first come to live with them, I'd spent a lot of time watching for the bergens. I'd go outside and check the area around our pod five or six times before I went to bed every night.

"Why do you go out so often, little dude?" Jaunty had asked me one night.

Reluctantly I'd explained, expecting more vague reassurances, but after a long hesitation Jaunty traded glances with Courtley and said, "Well, if it makes you feel better, why don't we go for a walk around the village?"

"Great idea," Courtley agreed. "I could use a little stroll to unwind before bed."

I blinked. No one else had ever offered to go along with my strange, un-troll-like habits. Before I knew it, I had a faintly amused smile tugging at my lips. "Since when do you need to unwind? You and Jaunty are the two most mellow trolls in the village."

Courtley looked pleased. "Why, thank you for noticing. We do try our best."

"Getting a healthy amount of exercise every day is one way to reach the awesome levels of mellowness that Courtley and I share," Jaunty said breezily. "So, how about that walk?"

"Okay." Even if they were only doing it to indulge me, I liked the idea of doing a perimeter check before bed, and having the two trolls who were fast becoming my favorite set of foster parents ever wanting to join me made it even better.

"Thanks for coming along with me." I didn't look at them directly, instead watching the fascinating patterns Jaunty's glittery skin cast everywhere as it reflected the moonlight.

"If it's important to you, it's important to us." Courtley put a gentle hand on my shoulder. I only let it stay there for a few seconds before pulling away and speeding up to put a little distance between us. I had a hard enough time letting them hug me during Hug Time.

I still had a strong reflex to duck away every time someone approached me with open arms, and the fact that I liked the two of them so much only made it harder to hold myself still to keep from hugging them back. I couldn't afford to start caring about them. Also, Courtley's dark purple hair reminded me of my father's, and that made it even worse.

"My other foster parents told me that I shouldn't worry. That we're safe here, and the bergens aren't coming," I said, testing them to see what they would say.

Neither of them spoke for a minute. "Can you understand why they would tell you that?"

"To stop me from freaking out all the time."

"Well, yes, but why else?"

"Huh? Um…so they don't have to think about the bergens?"

"No," Courtley replied.

Jaunty began to laugh. "Well, yes, actually."

Caught by surprise, Courtley started laughing, too. "You're right. Perceptive, aren't you?"

"A regular prodigy, I'd say," Jaunty agreed cheerfully.

I was pleased at their praise, but I tried not to show it.

Jaunty continued, "The thing is, little dude, we older trolls remember the bergens. Those bergens who aren't under the influence of troll-induced happiness tend to be apathetic."

"What's 'apathetic'?"

"It means they don't care. Or can't."

I frowned thoughtfully. "That can't be right. I remember how mad the bergen king was when we escaped. He can't not care."

Jaunty and Courtley exchanged looks. "Well, he was the king." Jaunty shrugged a glittery shoulder. "Most of the others don't try very hard to accomplish things, and they give up easily. They also don't work well together. Those of us who grew up in the troll tree saw that, but it's still hard for us to understand why they are the way they are. We didn't know what the word 'apathetic' meant at first, either."

Courtley gestured toward the dark forest. "The truth is, lad, no one knows if they're coming or not. They may show up tomorrow, or they may never bother us again. But-" His tone strengthened. "If they do show up, Jaunty and I figure that one of the best ways to be prepared is to keep in top physical condition. Do you know why?"

"Um, so you can run away faster?"

"Smart lad. So we have the best possible chance to escape, and help others escape, too."

"Can you help me get in shape, too?"

"Of course, little dude. From what we've seen, you've already made a good start."

Again I tried to hide a smile of pleasure, looking down at the ground and watching the delicate, flickering patterns of light change as Jaunty moved.

"So, did what we said help you at all?" Courtley asked.

"Yeah, we're still getting used to this whole 'parenting' thing." Jaunty winked at me.

I thought about what they'd said. "Well, I like the idea that the bergens may not be looking very hard for us, so yeah, that does make me feel a little better."

Both of them beamed. "We're so glad!"

"Um, but since we're here, is it still okay if I look for bergens while we walk?"

"Sure thing, little dude. We can make this a regular Stroll Patrol," Jaunty joked.

The Stroll Patrol became a nightly ritual for us as a family, one that I came to treasure. Sometimes we talked about the day's events or discussed problems we (usually me) were having, and sometimes we just enjoyed a companionable silence.

I liked watching the two of them strolling arm-in-arm, sometimes with their hair entwined, Jaunty's glittery skin reflecting the moonlight and casting pretty flecks of light on us and our surroundings. It was my favorite part of the day, so peaceful, when all the day's troubles were over.

I still kept a watch for the bergens and other dangers, but as time passed, I did it more out of habit than fear. Every so often I would realize that I had forgotten about the bergens for a while, caught up in a conversation with my foster dads. That's okay, I would tell myself. It probably just means there was nothing suspicious out there. If there was, I'd have noticed. Wouldn't I?

-O-

One night a few months after I'd come to live with Jaunty and Courtley, I went out for our Stroll Patrol with just Courtley. Jaunty had been sick with a cold for the past three days, and for the first two evenings we had stayed home to take care of him.

In fact, neither of us had left the pod except to get food, and supplies for Jaunty. I'd been really scared, that first morning when we woke up to see Jaunty, coughing and sneezing and red-eyed and I'd realized he was sick.

-O-

"Branch. Branch, lad, wake up." I rolled over at the sound of Courtley's voice, peering sleepily over my blanket to see an anxious look on his normally genial face.

Instantly alert, I jerked upright, clutching at my blanket. "What's going on? What's wrong?" I demanded in frantic, hushed tones.

"Could you come with me for a minute?" he said in an undertone.

It's them. They've found us at last! I slid out of bed, not bothering with my bathrobe or slippers, taking care to make no noise as I followed Courtley from my room to the one he and Jaunty shared.

I hadn't heard anything; no unusual noises through the thick felt door to my room. Asking for this door was a bad idea. I didn't hear a thing!

Of course, the silence also let me sleep better, but what good was that if I was zonked out at a time like this, with the village under attack!

"How many bergens are there?" I whispered hoarsely.

"Bergens?" Courtley finally looked back at me, scrunching his face up in puzzlement. "No, it's Jaunty," he clarified. "He needs us."

"What are you-" I stopped short at the sight of Jaunty in bed, looking sweaty and weak, his aqua hair rumpled and his eyes red and puffy. Oh my gosh, is he sick? Is he dying? What am I gonna do if he dies? Panicky thoughts tumbled down over each other, freewheeling out of control. And if he does, what if Courtley gets so sad that he dies, too? Or just doesn't want me anymore? Where will I go then? No one else wants me. This is my last chance! I know it!

I was still sure that the king had been ready to banish me if Poppy hadn't spoken up for me and taken some of the blame for what had happened on herself. I hadn't forgotten what she'd done for me. I owed her.

Now my anxiety spiked in a way it hadn't since the early days when I'd come to live with them. "He was fine when we went to bed. What happened?" My voice rose until it cracked.

Courtley gave me a surprised look that quickly changed to concern. "Oh, he just has a bit of a cold, that's all." His tone was considerably more reassuring than the tense worry I'd heard moments before. I noticed the shift, and confusion swept over me.

"So…there's no danger?"

Courtley exchanged glances with Jaunty, and both of them gave me compassionate looks. "Of course not, lad."

Heart pounding, I backed away, then spun around and ran back to my room, throwing the heavy felt door closed behind me. As was my habit whenever I was upset, I dived into my soft warm bed and wrapped myself tightly in the thick, fuzzy felted-wool blanket my foster dads had given me. I used to wrap myself in my hair, but I'd noticed that its heavy weight and warmth made me feel more secure, somehow.

A few minutes later Courtley came and knocked on my door.

"Branch? Are you awake? I'm sorry, lad. I just wanted to ask you to go fetch the doctor. I didn't mean to frighten you."

I didn't answer, still feeling a little shaky.

"Branch? Are…are you angry with me?" He sounded worried.

Somehow that made me feel better. I uncoiled myself from my blanket and sat up. "No."

"May I come in?"

"Yes."

The sheepish light-purple troll made his way to my bed and stood awkwardly rubbing his elbow. "I'm sorry for scaring you. I should have told you what was going on sooner. It's my fault."

It was kind of nice to be the one being apologized to for a change. "Yeah, you should have."

"So, you forgive me, then?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Thank you." Courtley reach out a big hand and scruffled up my already messy bed-hair. I ducked away, but I was smiling.

-O-

My anxiety that Jaunty would die had eased as he got better.

That first morning I'd been worried sick, convinced that he was dying. "It's just a cold," Doc Whipple said reassuringly.

I didn't believe him. "But he could be dying! We've got to do something more for him!"

Doc stared at me thoughtfully, then smiled. "Of course, Branch. Listen, I have an idea. I never have time for it, but I've been meaning to do some experimenting to figure out just the right ingredients to make a super-healthy stew that will help people like Jaunty get well faster. Do you think you could possibly help me out?"

I stared at him, curiosity and confusion warring with my anxiety. The Doc kept watching me, his eyes crinkling kindly at the corners until I eventually nodded. "Okay."

I spent the rest of the morning traveling around the village, asking the doctors and every single troll with medical or herbal knowledge about old remedies, healing plants, and advice. I also read through several cooking and medical scrapbooks and put together a list of ingredients to gather.

The rest of the day I spent experimenting in our kitchen, mixing the ingredients in various ways to make a soup that was both super-healthy, as the Doc wanted, and also tasty enough that even a person who was ill would want to eat it.

It was the first time I'd ever done something like that, but I discovered that it wasn't as hard as I'd thought. Courtley tried it, and asked me to give some to Jaunty for supper.

The magenta troll liked it. "Whatever you put in there cleared my nose enough so I can actually taste it."

"That's probably the menthol from the peppermint and eucalyptus. I didn't use a lot, 'cause it's so strong, and too much can give you tummy trouble," I explained authoritatively, aware of Courtley watching me with a proud smile. "And I put in other stuff that will blend well and keep it from overpowering the sugarfruit."

"Well, it's delicious. What do you call it?"

"Call it? Um…sugarfruit soup?"

"Marvelous."

Looking after Jaunty turned out to be amusing, since when glitter trolls sneezed, they had a tendency to shoot glitter out the other end. Except for my room, whose door I kept closed, our pod was covered in a layer of fine glitter no matter how often I tried to keep it clean, so, chuckling, Courtley had told me not to bother until Jaunty was feeling better.

The next day I stayed home from school to look after Jaunty during the day to let Courtley sleep, since he'd looked after his husband all day yesterday, and all night long, too, and I was scared that he'd get sick as well.

Jaunty had spent most of the previous day asleep. By noon the next day, he was more alert and able to stay awake longer. I gave him more of my special soup at each meal, and he continued to improve.

I played host to a series of my foster dads' friends and relatives while Courtley slept. Jaunty was awake some of the time, chatting in between coughing/glitter-spraying bouts.

I discovered that many of the other trolls had some mistaken preconceptions.

"I'm not their son. I'm just staying with them for a while," I kept correcting them.

"Well, don't be in a hurry to leave," they said. Or, "You're welcome to stay as long as you want."

One old troll just smiled, as if he understood my fear of getting too close. His voice was raspy and warm as he said, "Well, I'm sure they're glad you're here. Courtley doesn't have any other family besides Jaunty, you know."

"I didn't know that." I looked thoughtfully at Jaunty's sleeping form, glad that Courtley had such a great troll for a husband.

By noon on the third day, Jaunty was well enough to get up and move around the pod, eating his meals at the table with Courtley and me. That afternoon, we had an unexpected visitor.

"Branch," said King Peppy. "Just the troll I wanted to see."

Alarmed, I backed away from the door, my stomach clenching. "You aren't here to make me leave, are you? I haven't done anything wrong."

"I…didn't say you had," the king said mildly. "In fact, you've done something very right."

"Huh?"

"I'm here because of the wonderful new healing soup you invented."

"I didn't invent it. I just gathered a list of ingredients from everybody and read some stuff in a bunch of healing books and mixed it all up together in the kitchen."

"Yes, and from what I hear, it's worked wonders on your foster father. He's not the only one with this illness, but he's recovering faster than any of them. I was hoping to ask you for the recipe. You see, little Poppy is sick, too."

"She is?" I bit my lip, not having heard about my friend. "I can make some more right now and bring it to her. Unless Courtley needs me?"

I glanced at the purple troll, who shook his head. "We should be fine, lad. Go on and help your friend."

"Okay."

I turned to head back into the kitchen, but King Peppy's voice stopped me. "Thank you, Branch."

I nodded.

"Oh, and Branch? Don't be so quick to downplay your accomplishments. You may have gotten the information from other sources, but you did all the work. You did the research and the gathering and the testing, and figured out just the right combination of ingredients. That's not an easy task. In fact, I'd like you to write down your recipe and give it to each of the village doctors, too."

"Really?" My ears flipped back in astonishment. "You think it's that important?"

"Of course, my boy. You should be proud of yourself. I know we are all proud of you, right?"

There was a hearty chorus of agreement from my foster dads, and I blushed, ducking my head down on my chest and squeezing my ears against the sides of my head. It was nice, but the attention embarrassed me, too.

I stood there silently blushing until the king chuckled and told me to run along. "I'll go tell the princess you're coming. She'll be so happy to see you."

As I went into the kitchen, a small, proud smile crossed my face.

Author's Note:

I chose the title for the chapter, A New Kind of Family, based on both that Jaunty and Courtley are two married males, and the fact that for the first time Branch is living with people who understand his tendency to overreact to any perceived danger because they themselves have gone through a lot of bad things. It's a sign of the PTSD that many of the trolls seem to suffer from to some degree. In the series, ever notice the way they panic over silly things like Poppy running out of glitter?

One of the reasons Branch subconsciously clicked with Courtley in particular was the way he reminded Branch of his original father.

In the world of the trolls, I decided that they'd probably never heard of the concept of apathy until they met the bergens. Caring and feelings are very important to trolls, after all.

This question was asked by MissMyMy on Archive of Our Own: "I agree with Branch about the twins and their hair. I was a little taken aback when Poppy got defensive. I got where she was coming from, but Branch made some solid points. Also, she expected them to marry the same troll? What are the trolls views on monogamy/polygamy in this world?"

My answer: Hi! Good questions. As to Poppy getting defensive, that's what she did in a scene (I think it was one of the Ask Poppy clips on Youtube) where Branch asks curiously "why don't we just cut the hair?" And Poppy scolds him "Branch!" and apologizes to the twins, saying the Branch is still not good at social cues, and he whines, "What did I say?" like he didn't understand. And everyone else acted shocked that he would even say that. But since no one told him (in the clip) just WHY what he'd said was so offensive, my best guess is that the twins' hair is considered a deformity, like conjoined human twins, and it's not nice to say things about people with deformities. And I think it's because he's not used to the twins that he even imagines that they could be separated; it never occurs to anyone else. So that clip was also a reminder of Branch's past, when he was an outsider.

As to marriage and polygamy, in The Beat Goes on TV series, it seemed logical to me that at least some trolls think of the twins as a single person. There was an episode, The Giver, where Smidge kept correcting Poppy when she was interrogating the twins, because Poppy kept saying they had "a" suspect rather than "two" suspects. So I figured maybe Poppy would think they'd both marry one troll because they are "one". Also, the Poppy from the movie seems a little more naive than the series Poppy (which makes sense, since Princess Poppy is younger and less experienced than Queen Poppy) and so I feel like she'd be agreeable if the twins and a third troll announced that they all wanted to get married.

This all goes back to my idea that trolls in general are more tolerant of a wider range of unusual behaviors than we humans. I can't imagine there would be a law against polygamy, but I also doubt it's common, either. Who in the trolls' world wouldn't want to find their one true love?

Mind you, I doubt having the twins get married to the same troll would work out. Someone would be sure to get jealous. But Poppy isn't like Branch (who anticipates trouble) and would either never think of that, or she would be optimistic that it would be a happy marriage anyway. Which again, I doubt. They fight enough as it is. I would guess they'd only go through with it if they felt they had no other choice, which is why I had Branch tell Satin she was an individual, to get her to start thinking of herself that way, with the goal of eventually helping her and Chenille make the decision to cut their hair and live separate lives.

Maybe that's too sophisticated and subtle for TV series Branch, adorably socially awkward as he is, but in my story I chose to focus on the whole "outsider's perspective" thing instead, because I feel like if he were put in a situation where he could interact with just one twin, he'd become aware of her plight and want to fix it. Poppy would have, too; years ago, if she weren't so used to the twins.

Anyway, I'm glad you picked up on that. I actually wasn't going to have any of Branch and Poppy's friends show up all day (you will find out why later) but then I realized I wanted to address the twins' plight, and having our lovebirds need new clothes was the perfect way to do so (as well as do another 'nudity is okay' scene). It just worked out nicely like that.