-O-

Picturebook Romance

A Trolls fanfic

By Dreamsinger

Chapter Sixty-One

Memory Lane:

Call Me Branchkin

Author's Note:

This is the start of what I've been calling the Memory Lane chapters; a very important sequence of events leading up to Branch's eventual retreat from the village into the depths of his bunker. In chronological order we trace the path of memories as Branch loses one person after another, until there is no one left to hold him to the village anymore. Not even Poppy.

-O-

Holding hands, Poppy and I continued our stroll, traveling on along the path that weaved around some of the giant trees that marked the edges of the village.

"You surprised me back there," Poppy commented, "Teasing our friends about frolicking and even flirting with me in public like that."

I shrugged. "They already knew about us, and we had practically the same conversation with Cherry Blossom and Leafe this morning, didn't we? Besides, I thought you liked my flirting."

Her rose-colored eyes widened. "Oh, don't get me wrong; I love it." Her tone softened. "I love how comfortable you're getting with all this. You really are ready for some big changes in your life, aren't you?"

I was quiet for a minute, thinking about that. "I think so. I feel…bolder, in a way. More like you. I – I want to reach out, to try new things, to explore." I gave her hand a squeeze. "As long as you're with me, I feel like I can do anything."

"I'm not going anywhere," she promised sincerely. "So feel free to flirt with me in public any time."

We walked another few steps before I couldn't hold in my snicker anymore. It came out as a snort, and that set Poppy off. Both of us started laughing to the point that I didn't pay much attention when Poppy led me off the main path down a narrow, overgrown trail I hadn't realized was there. Mildly curious, I wondered where it led. As far as I knew, there was nothing important around here.

As we walked, I looked around us. "Wow, this is beautiful, Poppy."

She squeezed my hand. "I thought you'd like it."

I could feel myself relaxing, appreciating the privacy it offered. The foliage above us arched overhead so that it felt like we were walking inside a tunnel, but not a dark one. Instead the gently curving path before us was an array of soft greens and lavenders, sprinkled with a harmonious pattern of delicate sun dapples. Tiny wildflowers grew in a rainbow of colors all around us. I couldn't have made this path any nicer if I'd designed it myself. It made me feel good just to look at it. It was the perfect place for a stroll with my love.

Ahead of us I noticed two trolls come into view, walking slowly arm-in-arm. Poppy saw them, too. "Is that who I think it is?"

I peered ahead, squinting and tilting my head to the side as some overhanging leaves brushed my face. I moved a thick bough aside and got a good look at the trolls ahead of us. Then I froze.

There were two males. One was all shades of purple, and the other was a light-magenta glitter troll with aqua-colored hair. I knew those colors. I knew them very well.

Before I'd moved into my bunker, my life had been nothing but a series of losses. Many of them - most of them - were my own fault. Every loss had hurt me deeply, but I wasn't the only one to suffer. Sometimes I'd been the one to cause pain. Eventually I'd run away from the village to live like a hermit in an underground bunker, unable to bear any more loss, or the guilt of hurting those I loved. Especially these trolls.

My foster dads.

As I stood there, lost in a flood of memories, Poppy called out a casual greeting. "Hi, Jaunty. Hi, Courtley."

They began to turn around, and an intense panic swept over me. Hide!

Instinctively seeking cover I let go of the bough and it whipped back and hit me in the face, knocking me on my butt. "Ow!"

"Whoa! You okay, Branch?" Poppy asked as the two trolls spun around and came jogging toward us, their faces lined with concern.

"No!" I whispered hoarsely.

As they stopped in front of us Jaunty beamed down at me, his brilliant smile a match for his sparkly body. "Hey-hey, look who it is – none other than Queen Poppy herself! And who else do I see? Why, it's Branchkin! You okay, buddy?"

Jaunty seemed as lively as ever, but I shrank back, staring up at the two trolls who had once been my entire world. I hadn't seen them up close in almost fourteen years. They looked a little heavier than I remembered, but still strong and active, with only a few silver strands at their temples and the deeper eye-creases typical of trolls in their early fifties. It made them look kindly, like Poppy's father. They looked like…well, like fathers.

As perceptive as ever, Courtley waited a moment for me to finish studying him and his partner before taking his turn to greet me. His smile was as warm as I remembered as he said gently, "Hello, lad."

He held out a hand to help me up. I looked at it for minute before I could bring myself to reach up and take it. He didn't let go once I was on my feet, gazing at me with the same compassionate blue eyes I remembered from my trollhood. Blue eyes and purple hair, just like my original father's…and my own, as it turned out. I'd always felt closer to him because of that.

"Oh, I forgot. You go by 'Branch' now, right?" Jaunty asked.

Still tongue-tied, I didn't answer until Poppy prodded me with an elbow. "Branch."

"Uh, right." I pulled my hand from Courtley's, vaguely noting that I was as tall as he was now.

Jaunty tilted his head apologetically. "I hope I didn't offend you, Branch."

I just kept staring, until Poppy cleared her throat loudly. "No, uh, no," I stammered. "N-not at all."

Jaunty and Courtley - here. Right in front of me! Looking strangely pleased to see me, in fact, considering the last words I'd ever said to them.

"I'm sick of it. And I'm sick of you! Sneaking around, reporting about me to King Peppy behind my back. I thought we were a family, but I was just a job. An assignment from the king, to watch me and make sure I didn't keep causing problems for everyone!"

"I don't need parents. I don't want parents."

"I don't want you."

Such cruel words from the mouth of the trolling they loved. My ears burned with them.

There was an awkward silence. Their smiles faded, and they looked at each other. Fearing they were about to walk away, a sense of urgency struck me and I spoke without thinking. "Wait."

They did.

This is it. My chance to say something, to apologize to them. My heart started to pound, and I broke out into a sweat. I'd been considering contacting them, but now that my chance was here, I wasn't ready. Was I? What had I just said to Poppy about reaching out? I've got to say something, but what? How do I start?

Vaguely I remembered something about a census, but suddenly it seemed stupid and unimportant, as well as rude to start randomly talking about work as if this were just any ordinary conversation. As the seconds slipped by, my stomach clenched tighter and tighter. Panic zinged through my body, freezing my feet to the ground.

Then Jaunty took a deep breath. He held it for a moment with his cheeks puffed out the way I remembered when he was gathering the courage to say something difficult, then let out a poof of air. "Branch, we really blew it back then. And we're very sorry."

"We truly are, Branch," Courtley said sincerely.

I blinked, stunned. "What? What are you talking about? I'm the one who should be sorry. I'm the one who left you. I – I said such horrible things to you. I hurt you."

"Well, yes, but we were wrong, too. We knew how hard it was for you to trust people, and we kept secrets from you anyway." Jaunty's normally perky ears drooped a little, just like Poppy's did when she was feeling bad.

Protectiveness rose up inside me and I found myself reflexively defending them. "That wasn't your fault. King Peppy told you not to tell me about the bergen, didn't he?"

"Well, yes. He said not to tell anyone. But still…"

My panic faded as compassion took its place. They seemed to want to make things right between us as much as I did. I held up my hands. "Guys, I get it. You didn't want me to worry."

Courtley said, "Yes, but we often wonder if we made the wrong choice. By the time we realized we should have told you about finding traces of that bergen's campfire, it was too late. We couldn't take the chance that you'd find out we'd kept something like that from you."

Now I frowned, reminded of how deeply betrayed I'd felt by the two trolls I'd trusted the most. "So instead I had to find out by accidentally overhearing a conversation between you and the king?" I felt a flicker of anger try to take hold, but they both looked so sad I just gave a weary sigh and shook my head. I didn't feel like dragging up old grievances.

For a minute we were all silent, reliving a slew of bad memories. Then Poppy came up behind me and placed a warm hand on my back, reminding me that she was there for me. Something inside me relaxed a little, and I turned my head to smile at my girlfriend before I said quietly, "I know you had your reasons, but you still should have told me. I'd have understood."

Both of them looked ashamed. "We were going to tell you, Branch. Truly we were, when we felt you were ready. But it never seemed to be the right time." Jaunty rubbed the back of his glittery neck, dislodging a trail of sparkles down his back. "You were doing so well, and the happier you seemed, the more afraid we were to say or do anything to spoil all the progress you'd made."

"Afraid?"

Courtley reached out to give my shoulder a brief, gentle squeeze. "You didn't see yourself when you first came to us, lad."

"What do you mean?" I asked, puzzled.

Jaunty nodded. "You were so little, so thin. You worried us, Branch."

"I did?" That was news to me. Except for a few bad times, my dads had always seemed so happy and confident, so sure of themselves. That had always been a great comfort to me as a trolling, to feel like I could trust them to handle things. "I didn't think you worried about anything."

"We didn't, mostly. But we worried about you," Courtley admitted. "You were so intense, yet so fragile. So on edge, always jumping at shadows, with wary, frightened eyes like a wild foxfluff."

Jaunty added in an uncharacteristically serious tone, "You were running on glitter fumes, all bones and hair, like you could never relax."

"Aww, poor Branch. I know what's that's like," Poppy murmured sympathetically behind me. "Anxiety is no fun."

I half-expected them to act surprised and switch from me to Poppy, but they only gave her sympathetic nods. I suddenly recalled Courtley's nightmares and how understanding the two of them had always been when I talked about feeling worried or afraid. They'd lived in the Troll Tree. They were no strangers to fear, or to its aftermath.

I stood there looking back and forth between them, suddenly seeing them not as fathers but as two fellow trolls who'd been doing their best to care for someone they loved, even though they had no idea what they were doing. I sometimes felt that way about Poppy. A tension I hadn't noticed before began to ease as I listened to them for the first time as an adult. As an equal.

"Despite all the teams we'd coached, we'd never met a trolling like you before, Branch," Jaunty said. "You had this way of looking at the world, so tough, so skeptical. Challenging everything. You didn't trust anyone or anything at face value. We had such a hard time at first convincing you that you could rely on us to take care of you." He spread his hands, one side of his mouth turning up in half-smile. "We sure had our work cut out for us."

"I'm sorry," I said quietly.

"Don't be, lad," Courtley responded reassuringly to the note of regret in my tone. "You needed us like no other trolling ever had, and that made us rise to the challenge. We wanted to make you feel safe. Despite our many years of coaching trollings, you were the first one to ever make us feel like, well, like real parents."

Jaunty said warmly, "We had you for two wonderful years, Branch. We always hoped you'd come back some day, ready to forgive us and let us be your family."

My eyes widened. "Really? But I thought…I thought you didn't want me. You never came for me," I said in a tiny voice, and then before they could say anything I admitted, "But then, I was the one who sent you away, wasn't I? So how could you know?"

"Know what?"

I ran a hand through my hair and smile sheepishly. "That I forgave you a long time ago."

It made me feel good to see big, happy smiles spread over their faces. I stepped forward and put a hand on each of their shoulders. "I am really, truly sorry for all the pain I ever caused you."

"That's all right, lad. We're just sorry we weren't enough for you, to save you from going through so many more years of unhappiness." Courtley was still smiling, but his smile had turned sad around the edges.

Wanting to cheer him up, I opened my mouth to contradict him, to say that they had been enough. That it had been my own fault all this time. But then suddenly I didn't feel like arguing anymore, so instead I said, "If it helps, you did teach me how to love and trust again, even if it didn't last. You taught me how to take care of myself, too, which helped me get through my bunker years strong and healthy."

They brightened at that, and I thought to add, "You even taught me to appreciate music. If not for you, I might never have sung again."

Poppy nodded. "If Branch hadn't sung to me when he did, none of us might be here now. See, not only did he bring back our colors, his beautiful song is what convinced Bridget to save us."

Both of them nodded back. "I know, right?" Jaunty said, beaming at me.

Courtley's smile was quieter, but his melancholy was gone, replaced with understanding and pride. "Well, lad. I guess you found your own tune after all."

-O-

Like all trolls, from the time I hatched I'd been taught by my parents and grandma to read both words and sheet music. By the time I started pod school at age four, I could play simple tunes on instruments like the drums, xylophone, keyboard, recorder, and ukulele. In school I learned not only more advanced musical techniques, but also how to coordinate my singing, dancing and music-playing with the other trollings. Vocal work was my favorite, but I'd loved it all.

After the traumatic loss of my grandma, three months before my sixth birthday, music meant nothing but fear and pain to me. Hearing other trolls sing sometimes even made my tummy hurt. But after a year and a half with Jaunty and Courtley, I had begun to learn to play the guitar. Both of my foster dads were proficient in the guitar as well as several other instruments each, and they had enthusiastically endorsed my choice.

"Even if you have a hard time talking to other trolls, you can express a lot with music," Jaunty told me cheerfully.

Courtley agreed. "Music is in every troll's heart. You just have to find your own tune."

My own tune, eh? At the time I had wondered what kind of music was in my own heart. Probably nothing that anybody would want to hear. The few times I'd tried something on my own, out far away from the village where no one would hear me, it hadn't sounded much like music. Or at least, nothing like the happy, bouncy pop music that was so popular. My music, if I could even call it that, was slow and contemplative. Sometimes sad and depressing, or even harsh and offensive; a raucous noise of dissent and rebelliousness against the happy harmony everybody wanted me to fit into.

It was oddly satisfying, in a way. I was Branchkin! I wasn't like everyone else. I didn't want to change myself. And nobody could make me!

When I left my foster dads to go live with Leafe, I'd left behind most of my instruments, except for the guitar I'd so wanted because it made me feel like I fit in with them. I even played it occasionally, when I was in the right mood, usually when I was restless and upset and wanted some alone-time to think.

Leafe called it my guitar-time. When I played quietly in our pod, Leafe and his new girlfriend Cherry Blossom respected my need to be solitary and usually left me alone until I was done, which encouraged me to keep up the habit.

During my bunker years I had periods when I played and others where I didn't. After I decided to rid my bunker of all traces of my crush on Poppy, I'd thrown my guitar into the trash along with the rest of it and let the inferno flower incinerate it.

After I regained my colors, I built a new guitar. An electric guitar – a bright, bold, shiny red one. I even befriended a speaker bug so I could keep up with Poppy and the other trolls. Like when I was a teenager, I discovered that there was something hugely satisfying in being unafraid to be as loud as I liked. To express myself at the top of my instrument's – and lungs' – capacity.

Of course, there were quieter times, too. When I wanted to think, or connect with Poppy or one of my other friends, or just because I was feeling mellow and free of my usual worries. One of those times was when I gave Poppy a new ukulele to replace the one I'd tossed into the campfire in a fit of righteous irritation. We'd spent many hours since then playing some amazing duets together. They were some of the happiest times in my life.

Singing the love song I'd created just for us had made my heart soar. Expressing my feelings though music and song had turned out to be everything everyone had ever said it was, and more.

-O-

"I'll say he did. Talk about a most triumphant comeback! Bringing the entire village out of the depths of despair mere moments before we would've been eaten? With his first song, yet. It's fantastic, man! No one will ever be able to top that!" Jaunty exclaimed proudly, dramatically throwing out his arms and sending a burst of glitter into the air.

I rolled my eyes at the theatrics I remembered so well. Then Poppy caught my eye and winked and I burst out laughing. My dads looked surprised, then pleased to see me so happy, which only made me laugh harder. Poppy caught it from me, and then all four of us were laughing at nothing until tears came to our eyes.

"Oh, man. Oh, I love you guys." My heart overflowing with hard-won joy, I threw open my arms. With a huge grin on my face I said warmly, "Come here and give your son a hug."

Both of them gasped. Jaunty put a hand on Courtley's arm, his lower lip trembling. "Honey, did you hear him? He said-"

"Son?" Courtley's eyes shimmered. "Did you mean that, Branchkin?"

I felt my own eyes going all swimmy. "Yeah, Dad. I'm only sorry I waited so long to say it."

"Aww," Poppy said as they came to me and I hugged them tightly. All three of us were sniffling, and when I opened my eyes I saw Poppy wipe away a few happy tears of her own as she stood watching us. For once, she didn't join in, wanting this hug to be just me and my dads. I loved her for that.

When we finally let go, Jaunty asked playfully, "So if he's 'Dad', what about me?"

I grinned, happy and relaxed now. "What would you like me to call you?"

"Whatever you like, Branchkin. Pappy, GlitterPop, Sparkle Butt. I'll answer to just about anything," he joked, making me chuckle.

I'd noticed that they had both instinctively fallen back into using the nickname Jaunty had given me so long ago, and gave him a sly grin. "How about 'Popkin'?"

"Sure." The magenta glitter troll beamed at me. "Our son calls me that sometimes. Or Pops, or Pop-pop. Because we glitter trolls really 'pop'!" He let out a small poof, sprinkling the air with festive glitter.

Oh, right. They have a son now, I thought without bitterness.Now that I knew they hadn't forgotten me at all, I found I no longer resented the trolling who had taken my place. "I know it's a little late, but congratulations on the hatching of your son."

"Thank you," they chorused, but I shook my head.

"No. Thank you, for being the parents I needed when I needed you most. If not for you, I'd probably have come completely unhinged, disconnected from reality. But you two kept me grounded. I'm sorry I never told you guys how much I love you, and how truly grateful I am for everything you did for me. I may not have had my colors, but when I was with you, I was happy."

"Awww!" all three of my companions crooned, their hands over their hearts.

Courtley said gently, "We wanted to do everything we could for you, because we love you, lad. You'll always be our son."

Jaunty added, "But it wasn't a one-troll game, you know. You helped us just as much. If not for you, we would never have been able to get over our fear of starting a family."

"Fear? What do you mean? You guys don't get scared."

"Well, that's not quite true. You see, when Courtley and I decided we wanted to marry, we still believed some wild animal was hunting us. We didn't want to bring a trolling into the world the way it was. Then when Daisy discovered what was really going on, we were among the trolls who volunteered to look for evidence that the bergens, whom we'd thought were our friends, were behind the missing trolls."

I remembered that conversation very well. The night when Jaunty was home sick with a cold and it was just me and Courtley on our evening Stroll Patrol. Trying to comfort me, Courtley told me the true history of our time with the bergens. Talking about it had been very painful for him. He'd broken down and cried, and for the first time it had been my turn to comfort him; awkwardly, but sincerely.

We'd been closer after that. Jaunty, too. Taking care of the two of them, knowing they needed me, had made me feel like a real member of the family; something I hadn't experienced since I'd lost Grandma.

Courtley took up the tale. "Then after we escaped and founded Troll Village, in the spirit of Queen Daisy, Jaunty and I continued to go on reconnaissance missions. We kept a quiet eye out for signs of the bergens or other dangers, knowing that if we were caught, any trolling of ours would end up going through the same trauma that so many others already had. Like you, son. We didn't want that, so instead we made the choice to be the most awesome sports coaches Troll Village had ever seen. We told ourselves we were happy that way."

At the mention of the mother who had sacrificed herself to uncover the treachery of the bergen king, Poppy looked troubled. I put an arm around her to comfort her, reminding her that she had me now. We shared a smile of mutual love and support as she slipped her own arm around me and leaned against my side.

My dads mirrored our pose, standing close with their arms affectionately around one another. Jaunty continued, "But then you came to us, Branch. You had never joined any of our teams, so when King Peppy asked us to look after you, we were… Well." The magenta glitter troll spread a hand in the air and winked at me. "You had a reputation for being quite the handful, as you recall."

"I know." Fifteen foster families in four years. I still can't believe they were willing to be the sixteenth.

"We didn't know what to expect at first, but it turned out that caring for you was the most natural thing in the world. In fact, what surprised us more was how we needed you just as much. We needed to do some healing of our own. Remember Courtley's nightmares?"

I nodded guiltily. "Because I reminded you of the trollings you couldn't protect."

Their mouths dropped open. "Oh, no, no, no, Branch," Courtley protested kindly. "I'd been like that off and on ever since I lost my little brothers. It was never your fault, Branch."

My eyes widened, relief making my heart light. "Really?"

Jaunty nodded vigorously, his glittery aqua hair brushing the overhanging leaves and sending out sprays of sparkles. "We were glad to have you with us, Branch. You see, when we lost Courtley's twin brothers to the bergens, it was really hard on him. On both of us. We didn't know if we could bear to lose anyone else, so we hoped-" Jaunty traded uncharacteristically sober looks with his partner, "-that we would never have any trollings of our own. And, well, we didn't."

Poppy and I nodded sympathetically. Glitter trolls didn't go through regular mating cycles like rainbow trolls did, but since they didn't have dozens of trollings, there had to be some factor that prevented them from producing any more than the average number any other troll family had. I had no doubt believing that it was because Jaunty hadn't felt emotionally ready to have a trolling.

Over the years we trolls had domesticated many types of bugs and other small animals to help us around the village. It was known that if they were under stress, many species would refuse to breed, or if they did breed, they wouldn't actually produce any offspring. So once my dads had had experience taking care of me, it must have calmed their fears of parenthood. They'd even passed some of their coaching jobs on to other trolls so they could spend more time with me.

"We loved having you around, Branch," Jaunty said, his brilliant aqua eyes shining with sincerity.

"You were always a comfort to me, lad," Courtley's sky-blue eyes, so much like my original father's and my own, were equally bright. "And we'd like very much to have you in our lives again."

I spoke from the heart. "Oh, Courtley – I mean, Dadley, you have no idea how glad I am to hear that."

It was a slip of the tongue, but it sounded right to me. The new nickname seemed to please him, too, because he smiled broadly. "We're grateful to you, son. You took away the fear, and brought us so much happiness. Because of you, we were finally able to remember the ones we loved with joy instead of sorrow. With you there, our home - and our hearts - were full. After you left, we wanted the chance to feel that joy again. That's why we named our son Joykin."

"Aww, you named him after Branch?" Poppy clasped her hands together sentimentally.

"No, they didn't-" Then it clicked. "Wait, you did?"

They nodded, smiling.

"Aww." I put a hand on my heart, deeply touched. "Well then, I guess you'd better call me Branchkin."

Author's Note:

My beta reader pointed out that it's out of character for Branchkin to play his music really loud, since he's all about not attracting the attention of bergens or other predators. My point was that the longer Branch was living with Jaunty and Courtley, the more he was healing. Music was coming back into his life, and as long as he was a safe distance from the village, he felt bold enough to play really loud. To express himself.

Then, when he left his dads behind, he left most of his instruments (and music) behind, too. He hung onto the guitar because it made him feel closer to his dads, until he really started eliminating all he'd once loved from his bunker and his heart. He was trying to make a clean break, but it had some serious consequences. He could no longer express himself in a healthy way, so he bottled up his bad feelings, which led to him taking them out on innocent people. Guilt and depression followed…