-O-
Taming Branch
By Dreamsinger
Chapter 17
Fluffy
Poppy slowly moved the lift upward through the dark, curving lift shaft. She passed chamber after chamber full of supplies of all kinds, but she didn't even bother to look at them. With her head hanging low, the pink troll kept seeing the terrible pain on her friend's face. Pain she had put there, or rather, called back from wherever Branch had buried it. No wonder he keeps telling me not to ask about his past. What if it's all that bad? I have no idea what his life has been like since he left the village. What if he's just been going through one horrible experience after another, all this time?
The lift entered the small chamber Branch called his bolt-hole. She released the handle and let the lift settle back into place, its flat, fuzzy surface blending seamlessly with the floor. Dully, she looked around the dim, empty little space. It seemed different now. Never would have guessed such a little space would have such a big secret just below. A whole other world.
A dark, depressing, gloomy world.
She didn't like to think of Branch down there all alone, miserably curled up in a blanket meant to give him surrogate hugs. Should I really leave him alone when he's feeling so down? Daddy, what would you do? Should I-
Ting!
As her Hug Time watch opened, a familiar urge awoke her from numb distress. An overwhelming compulsion to go back down and put her arms around Branch. To hold him forever, or at least until his pain went away.
Her hand grasped the handle. Her fingers tensed, hesitated, then went limp as she let it go. I can't do it.
Branch had told her to leave. If she went back inside now, she'd be an invader, and she knew how he felt about invaders. Now that she knew where he lived, she could walk in on him at any time. She could tell others about his secret underground base, or bring other trolls here. Even the entire village, for all Branch knew. If he decided she might do that, he'd feel uneasy. On guard. Maybe even trapped. He'd want to run, and keep on running. She'd never see him again. He'd told her that earlier, and after the way he'd just behaved, she had no doubt he would do it. He'd go away, forever.
Today was their Friendship Anniversary. Branch had stepped up, moving far beyond gifts and fun times to show her exactly how much she meant to him. He'd taken a massive leap in faith, trusting her with the biggest secret he had. She couldn't betray his trust, now more than ever.
The glowing pink flower on her wrist closed up, leaving the tiny chamber in near-darkness. I don't want to leave him all alone, but I can't go back. Not until he says it's okay. Resolutely honoring her friend's wishes, the pink princess used her hair to push open the trap door in the low ceiling. She leaped up and through, then closed it behind her.
After all that had happened, she was almost surprised to see that the sun was still shining. It felt like a lifetime had gone by, but it had been less than an hour. An hour that had changed her life. She wanted to help her wild little foxfluff now more than ever.
But how? She needed to think. If she went home, her attention would quickly be claimed by someone wanting help, or just to hang out. And while she loved each and every troll in her village, the one troll who needed her help the most was right here.
As she looked around the peaceful area, her troubled features settled into a small smile. There's no better place to think than Branch's meadow. He asked me about coming back tomorrow, so I know he still wants to see me, and he did give me permission to visit the meadow whenever I wanted to. I don't think he'll mind if I don't leave right away, as long as I don't bother him. I'll be quiet.
She pictured him sitting just below her, wrapped in his comfort-blanket and looking wistfully upward. It made her heart ache. He probably feels so lonely right now. Maybe if I stay here, he'll come out, she thought hopefully. Now that I know he can see and hear everything that goes on in this meadow, I can show him that I'm still here, waiting for him. I was planning on spending the whole day here anyway, so I have plenty of free time. I want to give him the chance to change his mind.
Her eye fell on the giant boulder nearby. She and Branch had played a lot of fun games sitting on that boulder. Now she realized that the great slab of stone also protected Branch's home; as camouflage, and as a natural shield. What a great idea. I'll have to remember to tell him so.
The young princess had heard the story of her brave father's death-defying escape from the menacing bergen's shovel many times. The bergens had been trying to dig the trolls out of their escape tunnel, but the trolls had prevailed. The only thing her dad had lost was his pants.
Poppy grinned, walking over to give the boulder an affectionate pat. No bergen is strong enough to get through this boulder, that's for sure. They couldn't even move it without heavy equipment, and with Branch's surveillance system, he'd hear them coming a mile away. He'd have plenty of time to escape.
Feeling a little better now, Poppy climbed up on the boulder and lay down. I think now might be a good time for some grounding. The pink troll began to take deep, long breaths, held them to a count of five, then slowly exhaled. She noted the tight muscles in her body and deliberately relaxed them, helped by the steady heat from the sun-warmed boulder. She watched the clouds roll by overhead and listened to the soft rippling of the stream, and the gentle rustle of grassfronds rippling in the light breeze. Gradually her inner agitation calmed.
Eventually she sat up and looked around. Branch's meadow seems so tranquil, compared to the emotional rollercoaster going on underneath it. Happiness and sadness. Confidence and insecurity. The pride and joy of accomplishment, and the yearning ache of loss. So many feelings all scrambled up inside one troll.
Poppy deeply regretted upsetting her friend, but she was still glad her trip into Branch's world had happened. I got to learn so many new things about him. I knew he was smart, but I had no idea he was so skilled. Branch is amazing. He's a chef, an engineer, an artist… He even makes his own medicines. Not to mention all the resources he's stockpiled. He's accomplished so much, even with all his emotional problems. What more could he accomplish if that burden were lightened? If he was truly happy, there'd be nothing holding him back.
And I know that happiness is inside of him. He just needs someone to help him find it.
Again she felt the urge to go back inside, but she didn't move. Branch had to feel as if he was still in control of the one place in the world that was truly his. It was up to her to be patient. To show him she respected his boundaries; to let him know he'd made the right choice in trusting her. All she could do was hold out her hand, and wait for him to take it.
-O-
Wrapped in his weighted blanket, Branch dropped down on his bed. He expected to feel miserable for hours, but instead an overwhelming feeling of exhaustion came over him and he slipped into a deep, restful sleep. When he woke up a few hours later, he lay there for a while, assessing his mental state. The fierce throb of grief had subsided to the old, familiar ache in the bottom of his heart.
Surprisingly, he felt better. Calmer.
Must have been more tired than I thought. Not knowing how long the Friendship Anniversary thing was going to last, he'd decided to prepare by getting up several hours early to do the most essential chores of the day. Probably not a smart move. No wonder he'd flipped out on poor Poppy, who had only asked a perfectly logical question about the one photo in his entire bunker, after all.
Branch grimaced, embarrassed now. That's actually my fault. He'd put away the photos of his grandma, of course. Unfortunately, he'd forgotten about the one in Fluffy's old room; the one room he kept empty, just in case. It was a slim hope, but somehow it had always just seemed easier to dig yet another storage chamber than fill the room across from his with supplies. Maybe someday he'd be ready to use it for something else, but not right now.
His face felt sticky and puffy, so he got up and went to the bathroom to wash it. As soon as he walked in, he recalled what the little room had felt like with Poppy in it. Bright and beautiful. Full of sunshine.
The enchanting pink troll had seemed delighted with everything she saw. She'd expressed genuine appreciation for his work, something that deeply resonated with him. She'd recognized his craftmanship, and even invited him back to the village again.
Remembering that, Branch couldn't help but smile. He was glad he'd asked her to come, even after she'd inadvertently upset him by reminding him about Fluffy. Even after the fuss she'd kicked up over having the splinter removed. It had felt good to be the one taking care of her for a change. It made him feel more like the equal she claimed he was. Someone who protected and supported her, like he used to when they were little.
It felt good to be needed. Maybe because of that, he had touched her with no awkwardness at all. He'd even been able to offer her some comfort, stroking her hand to distract her until the salve had had a chance to numb her pain.
It had turned into something wonderful when she began to return the favor. A look of contentment spread over his face as he recalled the feeling of her hand stroking his. He looked down and put his own hands together, heels to fingertips, closing his eyes to relive that precious moment. As he lightly drew his fingers over his palms, his belly felt shivery, but in a good way.
Poppy was right. This was one holiday I actually enjoyed. There had been no over-the-top, demanding hugs. No overwhelming rush of emotion; just simple, quiet togetherness. With her.
When he finally opened his eyes, he noticed his new clothes in the mirror. The big-pocketed shorts she'd made for him in honor of their friendship, and the little yellow bow tie he'd worn for the same reason. He noticed the tie needed ironing. Shouldn't have slept on it. Oh, well. At least Poppy liked it. I'm glad I decided to dress up. Poppy was dressed up today, too, just for me. She looked so cute. So pretty…
As the gray troll washed his face, his thoughts drifted idly. Sure was nice to have Poppy visit. Here, in his home, where everything was just the way he liked it. No distractions, no need to worry about danger, so he could just focus on showing her around. There were a few things she hadn't liked, such as the Fear Wall and his weapon caches, but mostly she had seemed impressed. Poppy had a way of noticing things he missed. She'd told him he was artistic, and creative. I don't think I've ever been called creative in my entire life. I never thought I was, but I guess maybe I am?
He let his gaze travel over the fancy mosaic floor Poppy had so admired. Funny how it takes someone else to point it out, but you know, I did a great job on that floor. It turned out really beautiful. Maybe I ought to think about doing something similar in the kitchen. Or maybe near the lift shaft, so Poppy will have something nice to see the next time she comes over.
He pictured her face, staring in horrified dismay at the Fear Wall, and grimaced. Actually, maybe I'd better hold off on inviting her back until I have a chance to clean up a little in here. Starting with that wall.
He wandered down the hall to stand in front of the Fear Wall, which had been like that for so many years that he hardly noticed anymore. It is a little…overdramatic, now that I look at it. Although I didn't realize it would bother her so much. It's not like she doesn't know about the bergens, after all. But I guess it might be a little scary for her to look at. I don't want her to be afraid to come here.
He studied the rest of the room as if seeing it through someone else's eyes. Kind of dark in here. Hm. Maybe I should give some thought to redecorating more of my bunker. I'll bet Poppy would enjoy that, he thought wryly. That girl sure does love her decorations. I should add some brighter lighting, at least. Then Poppy can work on her scrapbooks in here when it's raining outside…
That was when he finally realized that he had taken it for granted that Poppy would be visiting his bunker again. He'd finally done it – let someone find out about his most precious secret. And it had turned out to be okay.
So far, anyway, he thought as habit kicked in. Maybe now that she knows about the resources I've stockpiled, she'll come back with a horde of trolls to steal them.
He didn't think so, but he was prepared to find out. The traps that worked against other intruders would also work against trolls, after all.
Maybe she'll have second thoughts about coming back to my dark, un-fun "den" once she gets back to the oh-so-happy, colorful village. Or maybe, now that her curiosity's been satisfied - now that she knows I'm not the mysterious, wild foxfluff she's made me out to be - she'll lose interest in me altogether.
He didn't think that any of those things were strong possibilities, but he was still Branch. Analyzing every situation for all the ways something could go wrong was what he did best.
Today, though, his heart wasn't really in it. In place of the ever-present anxiety that normally drove his days was a calm, settled feeling. The same feeling he associated with his bunker. Safety, and security. He trusted Poppy not to hurt him, and so far she had lived up to that trust.
Also, the gray troll knew very well that he was hoping for more of the praise he'd developed such a craving for. He couldn't help it. When he'd lived in the village, no one had ever seemed truly happy to see him. No one had admired anything he did. Most of all, no one had ever seemed to like him for who he was. But unless it was still somehow all a trick, Poppy did.
Come on, Branch. Think positive, said Poppy's voice in his mind. Instead of being controlled by negative thoughts, try to keep an open mind about the future. Try to see possibilities rather than limitations.
He took a deep breath. Okay, Poppy. Instead of deciding ahead of time that something bad will happen, I'm just going to wait and see. I'm going to try to trust you. I've got the rest of the day free, so I'm going to clean up in here, and then tomorrow when you come back…
That was when the memory he'd unconsciously repressed finally came back to him.
"Oh, man," he said aloud, covering his mouth in dismay. "I kicked her out, didn't I? I hope she's not mad at me. If I were her, I'd be mad to be kicked out of my friend's place on our Friendship Anniversary. Oh my gosh, what should I do?" He started pacing. "I should – I should make her something. A gift, as an apology. A cake, maybe, or a card, or a scrap-" He snapped his fingers. "That's it. A scrapbook. She loved the dessert recipe scrapbook I made for her, right? And she said I was creative. I'll bet I can make her a really fantastic scrapbook apology in no time."
Full of energy after his good sleep, he left the bathroom. After a quick stop in a long-disused storage room, he spread his small collection of scrapbooking supplies on his desk and sat down. It didn't take long to compose a short, earnest apology, which he then covered in way more glitter than he cared for. Poppy loved the stuff, though. Most trolls did.
He held it up for a final inspection and nodded, satisfied. "I think that does it."
Poppy's voice echoed him word for word.
He jumped at the sound, dropping the slender book on his desk. "Poppy?" he called out as he twisted in his seat to look up the lift shaft. "I thought you left."
Then he rolled his eyes and smirked. Of course she didn't leave. She's Poppy.
Looking upward, he waited, but she didn't appear. Am I hallucinating her voice now? Maybe I'm more tired than I thought-
He heard her voice again. "No, I think it needs just a little more glitter. Ah, there we go. Now it's perfect."
Her voice sounded off, yet familiar somehow. Tinny and echoing, as if she were speaking into a metal tube-
"Oh!" He got up and went to check his periscope. Sure enough, the pink troll was outside, sitting on the boulder above his bunker. Beside her was a stack of scrapbooks as high as her head. "Are those all for me?" he wondered, remembering the last time they'd had a big fight.
He reached up with one hand to adjust the lens, focusing on enlarging the book spines. Sure enough, his name was on the bottom one. I guess we both had the same idea. Above that, he read "Creek," "Biggie," "Mister Dinkles," "Cooper," "Guy Diamond," "DJ Suki," "Satin," and "Chenille." All names he recognized from his conversations with Poppy, some of whom he remembered as trollings.
Poppy held the last scrapbook up and read aloud, "Smidge, I feel really, really bad that I haven't been able to spend much time with you lately." She turned the page and continued, "I know I missed seeing you win the Alphabet Beanbag Toss Tournament. I'm sorry I couldn't be there, but make a scrapbook for me and I'll read all about it, okay?" She turned to the next page. "I appreciate your patience as I continue to work on my special project. I couldn't do it without you, my Chief Helper. Thank you so much." After another page turn, she read, "Remember that you are very special to me, Smidge. I miss you lots. Love and hugs, Poppy."
She closed the book. Then she brought it to her chest and hugged it.
Branch melted at the touching sight, one hand going to his own chest without thought. Aww.
As he watched her, the oddly light feeling he'd woken up with subdued somewhat as the familiar burden of guilt weighed it down. I knew she'd been spending more time here, but ever since she told me she'd moved her princess duties to the mornings, I haven't given it a second thought. I guess I forgot that hanging with her friends is more than just a duty to her. She really wants to spend time having fun with them, but she's not. Because of me.
He looked at the single scrapbook in his hand, then at the tall stack of scrapbooks near Poppy. He knew it represented only a tiny portion of the trolls Poppy knew and loved. She said there were 260 trolls in the village. Imagine how huge that stack would be if she made a scrapbook for each and every one of them. That's how many relationships she's been neglecting to spend time with me. While I've been glad about that, it's obviously been causing problems for her. Yet she never said a word.
He watched her place the scrapbook on top of the pile, then give it an affectionate pat. Oh, Poppy. The gray trollclosed his eyes and sighed. You know what you need to do, Branch. You need to go up there and tell her not to come for a while. That you want some time alone or something. Poppy's been making sacrifices for you all this time. It's your turn now.
Even though it sent a pang through him, he nodded determinedly. This is my chance to do something for her. I'll miss her, but I'm really not the lost little foxfluff she thinks I am. It would be lonely, but he would manage. He'd gotten along without companionship for eight years, after all. He could certainly take care of himself.
Resolutely the gray troll got up, slipped the scrapbook into his hair, and rode the lift up to the surface. He approached the boulder just as Poppy stood up with her back to him. She stretched her arms skyward, then dusted her hands off, sending a cloud of glitter into the air. It blew directly into his face, and he sneezed.
Poppy spun around, and her face lit up. "Branch!" She used her hair to lift up the stack of scrapbooks and pulled the bottom one out. Then she set the rest down and leaped off the boulder to land next to him. "I'm so glad to see you! Here, I made this for you." She thrust the slim book toward him and he automatically took it.
"Thanks. I have something for you, too." Inadequate though it was, he pulled out the scrapbook he'd made and held it out to her.
"Aww, thank you, Branch." She took it, and both heads of hair bent over their respective gifts.
Branch opened the scrapbook, then flicked his gaze upward. He was relieved to see a smile spread over her face as she slowly turned the pages. He'd done his best to show how he felt about her, starting with a picture of them in his bunker. Both of them were smiling. Poppy found the small tab on the side of the page and pulled it, which made the two figures' legs move, taking the tour of his bunker. On the next page, Poppy was looking at the stone mosaic floor with her hands to her cheeks, as if delighted, while the Branch figure stood proudly nearby.
He'd debated how much detail to go into with the splinter-removal scene, but in the end decided that the only part that really mattered to him was the special moment when their hands were touching. The entire page was one big, sparkly tribute to that precious moment of connection. When she got to that page, Poppy murmured, "Aww…" and glanced up at him. Blushing, he looked down at the book in his hands, flipping the page even though he hadn't really looked at it yet. When he shyly peeked up at her again, she was on the page where the Branch figure was wrapped in the weighted blanket, yelling at the pink figure with one arm pointing upward, as if telling her to leave.
Branch winced. Poppy pulled another tab and the sad pink figure rose up along the curving lift shaft to the top of the page. The next page showed the gray troll looking wistfully upward, tears on his cheeks. In sparkly silver letters, it said, I'm sorry.
The last page showed the two of them in the bunker again. The lift shaft was graffiti-free, and the room was bright and cheery. The two trolls were holding hands, and smiling. The glittery letters above them said, Thank You for Being my Friend.
He caught the soft smile on her face, which made his own mouth curve upward. Then he turned his attention to his own gift. As he expected, Poppy's scrapbook held an apology for reminding him of "something that made him sad." He noticed that she tactfully didn't actually mention Fluffy's name. Nor had she shown a puffalo anywhere. He flipped slowly through the cute, glitter-filled pages, then closed the book with a smile.
Just as he looked up, so did she. As their eyes met, they both said, "Thank you." Each of them chuckled and placed their books within their hair, again in perfect sync. Then they looked at one another. Each friend saw that the other seemed calm and willing to talk.
Poppy spoke first. "I hope you don't mind that I didn't go home right away. I mean, I know you told me to leave, but I just couldn't. I felt so bad about hurting you, and on our Friendship Anniversary, too!"
"Poppy, it's fine. I forgive you." He took a deep breath and let it out again. "I'm sorry for flipping out on you. I didn't mean to. You didn't really do anything wrong. You just took me by surprise, asking about him. Also, I was pretty tired. Sometimes when I'm sleep-deprived, it's harder to control my feelings. I can get a little short-tempered."
"Sleep-deprived?"
"Yeah, I got up at 1AM to try and finish the day's chores-"
"1AM?" she exclaimed, gaping at him. "In the morning?"
Somehow her flabbergasted reaction made him feel defensive. "What? Unlike some people, I don't have an entire village full of trolls to rely on. If I don't do what needs to be done, it doesn't get done."
"But… Oh, gosh. I'm sorry, Branch. I didn't know you'd skip a whole night's sleep."
"Not a whole night," he corrected her. "Half a night. I usually get up at 5AM, so it's not that much of a difference. I'm feeling much better now, though. I had a nice long nap."
She sighed. "I'm glad about that. But even so, I should have thought to offer to help you do your chores."
"Well, technically, you did end up helping me clean up the mess I made. You even got hurt doing it. So how about we call it even?" He offered her the tip of his hair.
"Deal." The pink troll twirled her bright hair with his, and they solemnly shook.
As they withdrew their hair, Branch said, "Now, Poppy… As far as your visits here go, I was thinking we ought to scale things back a little."
"Branch…" Her face crinkled in hurt confusion. "I don't understand. You don't want me to come here anymore? But-"
Hurriedly he waved his hands in her direction. "Oh, no no no no, I do want you to come back. It's just that I can see from all those," he gestured at the stack of apology scrapbooks on top of the boulder, "that you really need more time to spend with your friends, that's all."
"That's sweet, Branch, but I can't just leave you…" She stopped, looking torn.
"I know. You don't want your "poor little foxfluff" to be lonely." That sounded too snarky, so he tried to make his tone more gentle as he added, "But I'm your friend, too, Poppy. I don't like to see you unhappy, and I know you really miss your friends."
"I do miss them, Branch, but my friends know I'm working on a special project. They understand."
He raised an eyebrow. "They think you're rehabilitating a wild foxfluff, don't they? But you're not."
"Well, actually, only Milton thinks that. He might have told Smidge, though, if she asked him. But since he doesn't know who you really are, it's okay, Branch." She held up her hands placatingly. "Don't worry. No one will come here looking for you. Your secret is safe."
"That's not-" He sighed and put a hand over his eyes. "I think we're getting off-topic here." He let his hand drop and looked her straight in the eyes. "I'm saying that you don't need to come here every single day. I can get along without you, really. I mean, I'll miss you, but I'll be okay."
She hesitated for a long moment, biting her lip. Finally she said, "I appreciate the offer, but I feel like we might jeopardize your progress if we change things now."
"But, Poppy-"
"Also, I just like it here," she added quickly. "It's nice and quiet."
He blinked. "Since when do you like things quiet?"
"Let's just say your meadow 'grew' on me."
When he realized she was making a joke, Branch gave a half-laugh, rolling his eyes. Then he stepped close, searching her eyes. "You're really sure, Poppy?"
She nodded.
He sighed, mostly out of relief. "Okay. But if you need to cut back or stop coming for a while, just tell me. I'll understand."
"I will, Branch."
They stared at one another for a minute before Branch looked away, rubbing a hand on the back of his neck as he shyly offered, "So, uh, do you want to come back inside? I was thinking about doing a little redecorating, and I thought I'd ask your advice."
The brilliant smile on her face was his reward.
-O-
As they headed back down into the depths of the bunker, Poppy was relieved that Branch had accepted her explanation, at least for now. She did appreciate the way the meadow calmed her, and she did want to keep up with his touch-training, but those weren't her only reasons for protesting. When Branch had told her he didn't want her to come anymore, an icy wave had crashed over her. An instantaneous No! The thought of not being able to see her forest friend was unbearable. Without the daily visits that had become such a part of her, Poppy would be miserable. She knew Branch would be, too.
Also, she just didn't want to take the chance that he would regress back into the suspicious, untrusting critter-like person he'd been when she first met him. She was his main source of emotional support. Without her around, his mind would create all sorts of scary thoughts and feelings that would turn his focus inward, making him see the outside world as a hostile place all over again.
Somewhere along the way, the pink troll had developed a deep, inner conviction. Milton said that I had to come every single day. That I had to be consistent to earn his trust. And it's worked – up to a point. Branch has made a lot of progress, but my goal is to see him colorful and happy, and successfully reintegrated into troll society. None of those things have happened yet. He still can't even hug me.
But today we had a huge breakthrough. He chose to let me into his home. He even opened up to me about a painful part of his past. That's a tremendous achievement, whether he realizes it or not. And now that I know he responds better where he feels safest, I need as much time with him as possible down here. I can't stop now. In fact, I need to go even deeper into his world.
Branch seemed glad, too. "I'm really sorry for kicking you out earlier. Like I said, you just caught me off-guard, asking about Fluffy. But it's only natural that you'd want to know about him."
Her heart leaped, recognizing what he was offering. "I do, Branch, but only if you're ready."
Her statement seemed to calm him, maybe because by now they'd had so many similar conversations. As long as she showed interest while also respecting his boundaries, he felt safe with her. Safe enough to explore yet another dark corner of his heart.
-O-
Branch led her to the small sofa in what passed for his living room and gestured to her to sit. He sat next to her, and quietly explained that Fluffy had joined the next puffalo migration and had never come back. Most likely, he had died.
She put a hand over her mouth. "Oh, no!"
"Yeah. I was pretty broken up about it. I was only sixteen. I'd been in my bunker for nearly a year at that point, but I hadn't broken off all contact with the village yet. So I hadn't realized just how lonely I'd become, until my only companion was gone. When I finally accepted that my best friend wasn't coming back, I went into a deep depression."
"No," she whispered. She put a hand over his where it rested on his leg, trying to give him what support she could, and he let it stay there.
Branch continued, "I stayed in bed for two whole days. I didn't bathe. I barely ate. I tried to hide from the pain by sleeping, but you can only sleep so much, you know?" He sighed. "Even so, it took nearly a month to get to the point where I could even bear to leave the safety of my bunker; to head out into the deadly world that had killed my best friend. If I hadn't been low on food, it might have been even longer."
"I'm so sorry, Branch," she murmured, rubbing his hand. She wished she could say something more to comfort him, but her quiet sympathy seemed to be what he needed to continue.
When his grief became a little more bearable, he'd hung Fluffy's picture on the wall. "Even though it hurts, I want to remember him. He was the only one who's ever fully appreciated me for who I am."
"I appreciate you, Branch," she said softly, not wanting to sound as if she were competing, but also wanting to remind him that he wasn't alone anymore.
"I know." He smiled a little. "And thanks."
"And you're sure Fluffy is…"
"Yeah, I'm pretty sure. When the herds returned, I waited for Fluffy to come see me, but he never came. I was worried, so I went out to look for him. I looked and looked, Poppy. I searched all the local herds, day after day, but he wasn't there. Then I thought maybe he'd gotten hurt and left behind again, so I backtracked their trail. I followed it for weeks, until I started worrying that the bergens might come and attack the village while I was gone. With no one on guard, you'd all be easy pickings. So I turned around, hoping Fluffy would be waiting for me when I got back."
"He wasn't?"
"No," he said sadly, his ears drooping. Poppy wanted to hug him, and had to stop herself. Now was not to time to subject him to more emotion.
"I was devastated, Poppy. It hurt so much. I was so upset that I went straight to the village. The first troll I saw was Creek. I ran up to him and said how glad I was to be home, and you know what he said?"
"That he'd missed you and was happy to see you?" she said eagerly, ready for this sad tale to have a happy ending, as all troll stories did.
"No." The gray troll's tone was so sharp you could have cut hair with it. "He said, 'I didn't even know you'd been gone.'"
Poppy sat there, stunned. "But Creek wouldn't say something so-"
"So blatantly cruel? No, what he actually said was, "'Oh, did you go somewhere? I didn't notice. Then again, it has been quieter than usual around here.' Then he looked around with this smug expression and everyone snickered, like they always did whenever he made a joke at my expense," Branch said bitterly.
Poppy could easily see the scene in her mind. Back then, Branch had had a habit of appearing suddenly in the village in an agitated state, spouting some random warning about the bergens, and running off again. I knew most trolls didn't take him seriously, but to deliberately try to humiliate him in front of everyone? Tease him, sure. But, maybe… Her thoughts wavered, then steadied. Well, this was years ago. Maybe Branch is remembering it wrong. Maybe…
But as she looked at the gray troll, she knew that it hadn't been a mistake. The haunted expression on his face made it plain that Creek's insensitive comment was still echoing in his ears, nearly a decade later.
"I'm sure Creek didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Branch. He didn't know what you'd been through," she said quietly.
The lines on Branch's face deepened as he continued grimly, "No, but my point is that he had no idea I'd been gone for two whole months. And he wasn't the only one. When I got upset, asking everyone around me if they noticed I hadn't been around, they all looked at one another and shrugged. Nobody missed me, Poppy. I meant nothing to them." He pulled his hand out from under hers to swipe his hands across each other, then added despondently, "Nothing at all."
"Branch… I'm so sorry that happened to you. But why didn't you come to see me? I'd have been glad to see you."
"After that, I was afraid to." His shoulders slumped. "I couldn't bear it if you gave me the same blank look, as if I meant nothing to you, either. So I went home." As he gazed sadly at her, Poppy was dismayed to see the blue in his eyes fading into a leaden gray. "And I never went back."
"Oh, Branch..."
Wishing she could cuddle him close, she could only rub his hand again. He gazed down at it, then turned his own hand over and wrapped it around hers. Glad that he was able to accept her support, she gave his hand a gentle squeeze and waited to see if he had anything more to say.
Her sympathy seemed to spark something inside him. His voice trembled as he admitted, "I was so angry, Poppy. So hurt. Here I was, watching out for them all, even abandoning my search for someone who did love me, and that was the thanks I got?" He gestured angrily in the air with his free hand.
"I'm so sorry," she said yet again. "I can't imagine how that must have made you feel."
He looked at her, then suddenly scowled and pulled his hand away to cross his arms. "No, you really can't, can you? You're the princess, after all. You're important. You have no idea what it's like, to feel like you're nothing. Like you might as well not exist."
Poppy was silent, feeling awful for him. Then, looking at the situation from the other trolls' point of view as she'd been taught, something occurred to her. "I'm really sorry that happened to you. You should never have had to go through that, on top of feeling so sad over losing your best friend. But if it helps, I can kind of see why it did."
He uncrossed his arms, looking surprised. "What do you mean?"
"You were upset that the other trolls didn't think about you, or miss you, right? Well…relationships are a two-way street, you know? If you don't at least try meet others halfway, you're rejecting us, too," she explained.
Branch looked confused. "Wait a minute. When did I reject anyone? I told Creek I was glad to see him."
"Yes, but– Look, Branch, I have some good memories of you. But when I think of the way you were back then, what I remember most is you standing there, scolding me. Frowning at me. Shaking your head in disapproval."
"Oh." His mouth flattened as a look of guilt crossed his face.
Poppy saw it. "I know you were just trying to keep us all safe, Branch. I get that. I really do. But just like you, no one wants to feel criticized, or rejected. Sometimes some trolls try to avoid the things that bother them. Just like you do. So maybe it's not surprising that some trolls have a mental block where you're concerned." She hung her head as she whispered, "Including me. I am truly sorry, Branch."
He was silent for a minute. When she finally looked up, his expression had lightened to understanding, and the blue had returned to his eyes. "I hadn't thought of it that way. I'm sorry, too. For all the times I rejected you and made you feel bad, Poppy." He reached out, hesitated, then patted her arm.
Her heart melted. Despite his own pain, he was trying to make her feel better. She loved him for that. "I forgive you, Branch. And I'm sorry I let you slip away. I should have tried to find some way to keep you in my life." Her voice was husky with regret. "I should have been a better friend."
"It's okay, Poppy," he said softly. "You didn't make me leave; I wanted to go. Honestly, I doubt you could have stopped me. You were still just a trolling at the time. It wasn't your fault."
At his forgiveness, she sighed, a little shakily. Then she straightened up and said in a stronger tone, "Well. It was both our faults, but we can't change the past. The only thing we can do is make up for lost time."
"How?" He tilted his head, his eyes bright now with curiosity.
Poppy clasped her hands under her chin, beaming affectionately at him. "Aww, I love it when you do that. You're so cute! Just like a little foxfluff!"
He blinked. Then he smiled, just a little, but she saw it. I think he's finally starting to like being called by that nickname.
Shifting gears, Poppy pulled up one leg and turned sideways on the sofa to face him. "Since I never really got to know you as a trolling, I want to do something about that," she said earnestly, leaning toward him. "I want to know more about you, Branch." She didn't offer to tell him her own life story. She'd been doing that for the past three months, trying to get him interested in rejoining troll society.
Maybe her inclusive body language helped, as he turned sideways in his seat, mirroring her pose. "Okay. What would you like to hear about?"
"Well, for starters, I'd love to hear more about Fluffy. If… If you want to, that is." She tilted her head down, then gave him a sincere look through her lashes. When he smiled, her heart leaped.
"Okay."
-O-
The two trolls talked for a long time. Poppy listened eagerly as Branch told her about finding the stray puffalo with the injured leg, and how he'd brought him home in a wheelbarrow. He'd named the cute critter "Fluffy," and given him the room directly across from his own. The friendly puffalo had become his constant companion, greeting him eagerly after even a short time apart. "It felt good to come home to someone who was so happy to see me. I remember how he used to listen to everything I had to say. I don't think I'd ever talked so much in my life. Well, until now," he said with a nod in her direction. Poppy smiled happily at his acknowledgement.
After Fluffy's leg was healed, he had even helped Branch with his farm work, greatly increasing the number of crops the gray troll had been able to cultivate. But more than his work, Fluffy had given the lonely teenager something he'd needed even more: companionship. Warm, generous love and attention. Physical affection, too.
"When the day's work was done, we'd sit together in the meadow. I'd brush his coat clean, and then lay down against his side, watching the sunset. Sometimes he'd roll over on me and I'd laugh and push him to make him get off, but I really didn't mind. He was bigger than me, but he was still pretty young, so he wasn't that heavy. Since he loved to cuddle with me, sometimes I'd lay on top of him instead. He liked that. I did, too. It was like resting on a warm, fluffy cloud…"
"Awww. I wish I had a picture. You two must have looked so cute, cuddling together like that." I wonder if that's why he likes that weighted blanket, because it reminds him of Fluffy.
"I love to cuddle, too," Poppy said wistfully. "I've never cuddled a puffalo before, but now I want to try it sometime."
Branch chuckled. "I'd like to see that."
As they gazed at one another, Poppy watched the laughter faded from his face, replaced by a thoughtful, introspective look. "Thanks for listening to me talk about Fluffy, Poppy. It felt good to remember him, without pain."
Her tone was soft and husky with feeling. "I was happy to, Branch."
Her friend was quiet for a little while, long enough that she nearly said something just to fill in the empty air. Then Branch said quietly, "Talking about taking care of Fluffy reminded me of something I've been meaning to suggest. As part of our touch-training exercises, you know?" he said awkwardly.
"Really?" she asked, intrigued. "What is it?"
"Do you remember the scene in one of the scrapbooks you gave me, with the two of us and a brush? A hairbrush, I mean, not a paintbrush."
"I think so. Wait," she said with an air of hope. "Does this mean what I think it does?"
Author's Note:
Yes, Branch is starting to like being called by Poppy's favorite nickname. Not so much for the name itself, but because he's finally beginning to accept the feeling behind the word. When Poppy calls him "Foxfluff," he feels loved.
When Branch puts a hand on his chest, that's a habit he picked up from Poppy. I love the idea that the two of them are so close now that they're starting to take on each other's characteristics. 😊
I looked up the weight of a granite boulder. Because granite is so dense, the average two-foot-wide boulder can literally weigh up to 400 pounds / 181 kilograms! Waaaay more than you would think for its size. So yeah, the bergens would not just be able to pick it up and toss it aside to get at Branch's home. I have to wonder if he reinforced the ground underneath it, though, so it wouldn't sink into the partially hollow space underneath. The tree roots wound throughout the bunker are probably meant to help hold the boulder's weight, I'd guess.
I wanted to show Poppy modeling self-soothing techniques such as grounding; moving to a quiet place and focusing on her environment and how her own body feels, and using controlled breathing to help calm her nervous system. Grounding is an extremely important life skill that, unfortunately, many people never learn as children, which is why we sometimes see someone acting angry, agitated, or even hysterical in public.
Branch himself has panic attacks, as we see in the first movie. "The bergens are coming! Ahhhhh!" In Taming Branch he does try to use some grounding techniques, and that helps. Taking care of his body's needs by getting some much-needed rest helped a lot, too. Sleep deprivation definitely contributes to mood swings. (When I notice that I'm losing my temper a lot, I start paying closer attention to how much sleep I'm getting, and make an effort to go to bed on time. It makes such a big difference in how much energy you have to deal with difficult situations. It also helps with my migraines.)
Like a lot of people who distract themselves with work or entertainment, Branch doesn't understand himself all that well. That's why talking things over with Poppy is so enlightening for him. Many people go to therapy for the same reason. It can be very useful when deciding what you want (and don't want) in your life. However, even though Poppy helps him sort out his feelings, Branch still needs alone time. To calm down, or recharge. To be more introspective, now that he's started exploring his own emotions instead of just shutting them down and focusing on his work. He's figuring himself out, one day at a time.