-O-

Taming Branch

By Dreamsinger

Chapter Five

Promises

Poppy tossed and turned in bed that night. She kept remembering the sheer misery on his face as tears rolled down his cheeks. Over and over, she heard him wail, "A friend wouldn't hurt me like this!" making her cheeks burn with shame. I'm so glad I went after him and made things right between us. If that was the last thing he ever said to me, I couldn't bear it. I'd have to search the entire forest for him…

The other thing on permanent replay in her head was the sound of his voice, what little she had heard of it, pleasantly humming along with the trolls from his home village. I thought he said he had a bad voice? He sounded fine to me. I wish I hadn't said anything. He might not have even noticed he was doing it.

I wonder, was that the first time he's sung, or hummed, since he left the village? Did he have a bad voice back then? She tried to recall the sound of the gray troll's voice and came up empty. I can't remember ever hearing him sing… Her mouth dropped open. No. Way. It couldn't be… I mean, I know he was always busy working, but it's hard to believe he didn't sing at all! Not in Troll Village.

Poppy bit her lip. If it's true though, no wonder he's so unhappy. It's bad enough he's spent the last eight years without hugs, but without music either? A chill went down her spine, and she shivered. No music. I'd go crazy. Maybe he is, a little. Maybe that's his problem. He's all bottled up. No music: no way to express himself. No hugs, no friendships. No comfort. No love. Her hands crept up to cover her mouth. Oh my gosh, how awful. Why oh why would you ever want to live like that, Branch?

Again she picture his sad little face, and her heart hurt for him. Her fine dark-magenta eyebrows drew into a straight line as the pink troll felt the spirit of determination take hold deep inside her. No matter what it takes, my lonely little forest creature, at the very least, I'm gonna bring music back into your life. Somehow. I promise you, Branch.

I'll just have to be careful about it. Hmm… Well, you may have said I can't sing or make loud noise, but you didn't say I couldn't quietly hum. Even you hummed, so you shouldn't mind that, right? Maybe you'll even hum along with me. Maybe all you need is some encouragement from a friend. I know there's music in you, Branch, and I'll do everything I can to coax it out of you. You've got so much to say. I can feel it.

She wondered what kinds of songs he would sing. Maybe they would be songs like none she'd ever heard before. Songs as unique as he was. A new type of music altogether. Man, this is so exciting!

Oh, how she loved the idea of sending her trollhood friend on a path to self-discovery. She wondered where it would lead him.

As she fell asleep, one last thought led her into her dreams; she was glad to be along for the ride.

-O-

The next day Poppy went to meet Branch where they had agreed, at the edge of the village not far from where she had left just weeks ago to search for a rosetwirl flower. An innocent game that had led to the most amazing chance encounter ever. What were the odds? she mused. If things had been even a little bit different, I might never have met him again.

Oh. There he is. As the forest troll emerged from the foliage and began to approach her, Poppy was literally dancing with curiosity. 'Safer', he said. Is he going to show me where he's lived all these years already?

-O-

"I wonder if he'll show you where his den is," Milton had commented that morning. "It's a sign of trust when an animal lets you approach where it sleeps, or where it hides its food. The place where it feels safest, you know?"

This area was fairly unfamiliar to Poppy. Her dad had always insisted that she stick to the parts of the forest they knew, where many plants and critters near the village had been befriended by the trolls. When she'd told her dad that Branch wanted to change their meeting place, he had been concerned at first.

"That part of the forest is unexplored. What if-"

"Exactly, Dad. We shouldn't miss this opportunity to explore a new part of the forest. I'm sure Branch knows all about it."

"Well, I suppose… Branch says it's safe, does he?"

"Well, he didn't say exactly, but this is Branch, Dad. The safety fanatic? I literally could not have a safer companion. Besides, if I'm going to help Branch get used to being with other trolls again, I need to do it where he feels safe."

There was a long pause during which her father regarded her thoughtfully. "You're right, dear. I trust you. Just…do an old man a favor, and be careful. Watch out for anything dangerous, and listen to Branch, all right?"

"You got it, Dad," she'd promised jauntily.

-O-

Safety fanatic indeed. Poppy was all set to plunge in, but Branch actually made her stop at the very spot he'd just come from, snapping a hand in front of her face with a terse, "Wait." He pulled out a pair of binoculars and cautiously peered into the forest.

Poppy shrank back. "Is – is something chasing you?"

He didn't answer. Poppy held her breath, listening, but she heard nothing unusual. Finally Branch gestured for her to come closer. In an undertone, he said, "Okay. Follow me."

As she stepped beneath the tree canopy, she looked around carefully. I don't see any predators. Suddenly she recalled exactly whom she was with, and rose from the crouch she hadn't realized she'd fallen into. A little caution I understand, but this is a bit much. He's still the same old scaredy-troll I remember from when I was little.

Silently Branch led her through the forest. For the first few minutes Poppy kept a watchful eye out, to honor the promise she'd made to her dad. Eventually, when nothing attacked them, she began to relax and turned her attention to her traveling companion. She noticed then that his hair looked slightly shorter and neater than yesterday. "Hey, Branch, did you cut your hair?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "Yes…?" His tone was dubious; halfway between a statement and a question. He looked forward again, then looked back at her, his eyebrows lifting a little. That was all the body language she needed.

"It looks good," she reassured him.

"Thanks." He relaxed and faced forward again.

When was the last time someone complimented him? Recognizing the chance to make him feel good about himself, Poppy was happy to give him some honest praise. "You did a great job. Cutting your own hair isn't easy, especially if you accidently move it at the wrong time. It takes a lot of self-control and precision. That's why most trolls visit Maddie's hair studio instead."

He didn't answer or look back at her, but she saw the shape of his cheeks change, and she knew he was smiling.

The pink troll found herself musing over his unusual hair coloring. She knew many trolls with dark hair, but none as dark as his. She wondered what its true color was. His hair is a deep, rich black with warm highlights, so… Chestnut? Navy blue? Purple? Or dark green, maybe, to go with the warm blue-green cast to his light gray skin? Could she ask him why his colors were still gone, or was it too soon?

She gazed at it thoughtfully for a minute. It's nice hair, even so. Very striking. I never thought about someone having black hair, but that color makes his hair look so strong and thick, she thought in admiration.Like most trolls, she was a sucker for a fine head of hair. In fact, it's beautiful. Unique, just like him. I'd love to brush it sometime.

As he moved smoothly in front of her, his hushed footsteps and the gentle sway of his hair began to relax her. Her mind began to wander. Hmm, I wonder if he'd let me style it? Is it as soft as it looks? Without thinking, Poppy reached out to touch it. Closer, and closer…

Then the memory of him jerking away from her flashed in front of her eyes and she yanked her hand back just in time. Poppy, what were you thinking? she scolded herself. Even a regular troll would be startled if something suddenly tangled itself in their hair. Can you imagine how freaked out Branch would be? You'll never tame – Oops. Milton's words had stuck in her head. The critternarian still had no idea she was concerned about a fellow troll, not a cute little forest beastie. I mean, earn his trust. Not if you keep forgetting he doesn't like to be touched, especially not without his permission.

Remember why you're here, Poppy. You're here to be Branch's friend. You're here to help him learn to stop being so worried all the time and just be happy; to enjoy life. To dance, and hug, and sing!

In fact… Reminded of her mission to connect with this long-lost member of her tribe, Poppy studied her companion. For once, he wasn't frowning. On the contrary; from the mildly peaceful expression he wore, he actually seemed to be in a good mood. Poppy sensed an opportunity. Maybe now would be a good time to try to get him into the trolly spirit of things. Bring him back into the musical heritage of our people.

Very, very quietly, Poppy began to hum one of her favorite marching songs under her breath. Surely he couldn't object to a near-silent murmur, could he? It would make the trip go by faster, and it would be more fun.

Instantly his finger was on her lips. "Shush! What did we say about no singing? You promised to be quiet," he scolded in precisely the same fussy whisper she remembered from the past.

She huffed through her nose in exasperation before she could stop herself. Branch scowled at her. As he lifted his finger, she complained in an undertone, "I wasn't singing; I was humming. And I was being quiet. I truly was. Couldn't you tell?"

Branch looked at her for a long moment as if debating whether to argue. He must have believed her though, because he merely sighed and ran a hand through his magnificent hair. "Well, if that's your idea of 'quiet', then you need to be super quiet."

"But we're talking louder than I was humming," she protested. "And yesterday you were the one humming-"

Branch bristled. "No means no," he said firmly. "No humming, no singing. Period. If you have to speak, keep your voice down. Because if you're not going to take this seriously, you can just turn around and go back home right now. I'm not going to be responsible for getting another- I mean, for getting the princess eaten."

Eyes wide, she waved her palms at him. "No no no no; I can be super-quiet."

"You promise?" He eyed her like she was still five years old.

"Yes, I promise. I'm sorry, Branch." He held her gaze for a long moment, then finally began to walk again.

Slightly subdued, Poppy fell into step behind him. She could see she was really going to have to take baby steps with him. At least he didn't make me pinky-swear.

After a few minutes, she couldn't stand the silence anymore. Was he mad at her? "Branch? I'm sorry. I'm just a little excited," she said quietly, mostly to gauge his mood from his answer.

Branch snorted. "I never would have guessed."

He seemed a little exasperated, but not angry, to her relief. "Really? Huh. I would have thought-"

"Poppy, I was being sarcastic."

Another memory fell into place. Poppy snapped her fingers. "Oh, riiight. Sarcasm. I forgot; you do that a lot, don't you?"

He frowned, so she changed the subject. "Anyway, thanks for not making me go home. I've always wanted to explore this part of the forest, but my dad always said it was too dangerous."

Branch seemed a little surprised by that. "Well. I'mglad to hear that your dad agrees with me." From his tone, he was trying to stay annoyed but was actually mollified that her dad was on his side.

Sensing that he was on his way to a better mood, Poppy said sincerely, "And I'm glad you're here with me. I know you'll help me make it home safely." She twirled in a carefree circle, watching the unfamiliar landscape whirl past her eyes as she admitted, "I wasn't really watching where we were going. I couldn't find my way back even if I wanted to."

Branch stopped walking to stare at her in astonishment. Poppy shrugged. "What? You're way more interesting than a bunch of trees."

At that, Branch looked away.

"No offense to you trees," Poppy added quickly. She looked around, but if any of the trees were self-aware types, none of them seemed to be paying the two trolls any attention.

Branch was still looking away from her, his shoulders hunched slightly. Was he angry? Upset?

She peeked around his body to see lavender dusting his cheeks. Aww, is he blushing again? She beamed sentimentally at her bashful friend, a pleasant tingle in her belly. He's so cute!

After a moment, he began walking again without looking at her. Poppy grinned and followed.

Actually, if she really had to, she probably could find her way home if she navigated by the sun, but she'd spoken the truth. She really hadn't paid much attention to where they were going. How could she? Everything about Branch fascinated her.

The gray troll didn't just walk; he glided, swiftly and silently from one of source of cover to the next. Always looking and listening; his large, sensitive ears alert for heavy footsteps or rustles in the undergrowth. She'd noticed that his dull coloring was remarkably useful for camouflaging himself. He would slip into a shadow, freeze and blend in. If Poppy looked away and then back, it was surprisingly challenging to pick him out.

When there was no cover, sometimes he would even crawl along the ground, barely ruffling the grass. Poppy did too, and found it harder than she expected. "This is fun," she commented cheerfully. "Like hide and seek. Are we hiding or seeking?" She giggled.

"It's not a game." Branch stood up and scowled down at her. "I'm not doing this for fun."

"I know," she said as she stood up next to him. "But it kind of is, don't you think? A lot more fun than boring old walking."

He made a psh noise but didn't answer. Then, as he turned to walk away, she thought she saw one side of his mouth curve upward.

"Sorry," he said a while later.

Poppy made a questioning sound.

"Maybe it is a game. A little bit. I just…take it really seriously."

"All the best games are taken seriously," Poppy said earnestly.

This time, Branch let her see him smile.

-O-

"Are we there yet?" she asked a few minutes later. The two trolls were swinging from branch to branch through a series of giant old trees.

"Yes," he answered, to her surprise. "What do you think of having our meeting place – here?" Still hanging by his hair, he pushed aside a big leaf and pointed down at a large, sunny meadow below.

"Ooo..." Poppy was intrigued to see that the meadow was surrounded by a mass of prickle bushes. Big bushes; several times the height of a troll. There were even thin vines stretching from one side of the meadow to the other, draped across tree limbs like thorny party streamers, presumably there to thwart flying predators. Anything larger than a grossum would have a hard time getting through without a lot of painful scratches, easily giving a troll enough time to escape.

Part of the meadow was shaded by tall mushrooms, near a swift-running stream with sparkling water. "This would be a great place to have picnics,"Poppy said in delight, watching the green-and-lavender grassfronds sway gently in the breeze. "It's beautiful here, Branch."

He looked shyly pleased. "Thank you. It wasn't easy transplanting those bushes, but it was worth it. Even a bergen would think twice before walking here."

"You transplanted them? Wow, what a great idea! Prickle bushes for protection! You're so smart, Branch."

She was delighted to see his cheeks turned lavender again, the brightest she had seen them so far. "Thanks." She was even more delighted to see him stand straighter, his shoulders back, and his eyes full of confidence. Proudly he added, "And that's not all. I've rigged a few traps around the meadow's perimeter too, in case something gets through."

"Traps?" she repeated, feeling a twinge of uncertainty. Suddenly the clearing didn't seem so nice.

"There's a surveillance system, too. Nothing gets past me."

Poppy blinked. "That's - that's good, I guess."

Poppy looked down and away, pressing her lips together in an unaccustomed frown. Surveillance system? Traps? That's what he's spent the last eight years doing? Building stuff for defense against an enemy he'll never face? Oh, Branch.

Her less-than-enthusiastic response was noted by the gray troll, whose expression went from confident to solemn. "Don't be scared, Poppy. You're safe here. I promise I won't let anything happen to you. Not on my watch."

Aww. That wasn't what was bothering her, but it was sweet of him to notice, considering that he wasn't used to having to think of someone other than himself. As she gazed fondly at him, the sincere look in his steady blue eyes gave her a pleasantly warm, shivery feeling inside. For some reason, she looked down at the faraway ground below her as she smiled her appreciation. "Thank you."

Somehow she could sense that he was smiling at her, too, filling the air between them with a not-uncomfortable warmth that made her heart happy. Little by little, he's reaching out. Whether he realizes it or not, he wants to connect with me. He wants a friend; someone he can be close to. I just know it!

Before the silence could get awkward, she asked, "So, you live in this meadow, Branch?"

"No, I live in-" He cut himself off, then reached up to scratch his ear. "I mean, not exactly."

'Not exactly'? What is that supposed to mean?

As she looked at him in puzzlement, he cleared his throat. "So, uh, the traps. They're near the edges of the meadow, so just remember to avoid the grass within six feet of the thorn bushes, okay?"

Hanging by her hair meant that Poppy couldn't nod easily, so she shrugged instead. "Okay, Branch." I guess it was too much to hope that he'd let me see his den – I mean, his home – just yet. Well, that's a goal to work toward. Once he truly trusts me, he'll show me his home.

As Branch led her down to the ground, Poppy kept a firm grip on the tree limb above her as they swung over the bank of prickle bushes, reflexively lifting her feet extra-high even though they were well above the sharp thorns. When the limb came to an end, both of them flipped into the air and landed lightly on the soft grass.

A lifelong dancer, Poppy noted that their movements had been in perfect sync. She eyed him with new interest. While all trolls loved to dance, not every troll was good at it. But I have the feeling that Branch would be a wonderful dance partner. Now that we're somewhere he considers safe, maybe I can get him to dance with me. Dancing will naturally lead to music, and singing…

Before she could ask him, Branch headed off to the side, toward an enormous boulder with a long, sloping top. At the base of the boulder he suddenly bent down, dug his fingers into the grass, and lifted up a trapdoor.

"Whoa, cool! A secret hideout!" Poppy exclaimed excitedly. Her companion glanced at her, and Poppy caught a hint of amusement on his face before he leaped into the darkness. Poppy unhesitatingly followed him.

The drop wasn't far. Standing in the bright shaft of sunlight, Poppy looked around a dim little cave. Right near them, a bent root grew up from the floor. Further away, piled against the wall were various containers marked Food, Water, First Aid, and Traps. What looked like long green hollow tubes went up the wall into the ceiling. Part of his surveillance system?

She took a few steps away, and turned in a circle. "Wow. You really like to be prepared for everything, don't you?"

Branch nodded, looking a little smug. "This is my emergency bolt-hole. If something ever happens, get in here. You'll be safe, while I deal with whatever's out there. Okay?"

"What do you mean, deal with it? How?"

"My traps, mostly. Leave them hanging in a net for a day or so, most predators get the message and stay away."

Poppy nodded. "You said 'mostly'. So what happens if a predator manages to avoid your traps?"

Unmistakable mischievousness gleamed in his eyes as he replied, "Bait."

"Huh?"

Branch had her look through one of the surveillance periscopes while he pulled a lever on the wall. Across the clearing a small piece of grass flipped open and a green-and-blue troll-shaped puppet popped out. Through one of the listening tubes could she heard it blow a raspberry and yell in a tiny version of Branch's voice, "Hey! Over here! Nyah-nyah! You can't catch me!"

Poppy laughed. "How clever!"

"It works for most predators," he said casually. He shrugged a shoulder, but Poppy could see that he was proud of himself. "The few that don't get fooled…" His tone darkened. "I have other ways of dealing with them."

Poppy gave him a startled glance. In the shadowy cave, the forbidding look on his face suddenly made him seem as intimidating as the first time she'd run into him. A dark thought came out of nowhere. "You don't mean…" She drew a finger across her throat and made a skrikkk noise.

His eyes widened. "What, kill them? No, I use knockout darts on them. Even the most persistent predator gives up after being knocked out a few times."

Poppy was relieved. Judging by the way Branch had acted when she'd first met him, she had the feeling he could act…unpredictably. Maybe in ways no other troll ever would... After all, he was living in the wild, outside the protection of the village. And she knew life in the forest was dangerous.

As Branch began to show her how to lock the trapdoor from the inside and spread a collection of tiny traps over the floor of the bolt-hole, Poppy's mind wandered. Prickle bushes, bolt-holes, traps, and constant caution. She could not imagine another troll living the way Branch did, just waiting for an imminent attack. Yes, if the bergens were really a danger, there was a certain logic to it all, but still…

Is it worth it? Is safety worth eternal vigilance? Is it worth giving up everything that makes life worth living? Branch surely thought so. And yet, even though he was supposedly safer than anyone in the village, he seemed to feel less safe than anyone.

Seriously, what kind of a life is that for a troll?

Beside her, Branch stood up from where he'd been kneeling on the floor. He looked around at the neat pattern of snaptraps around them and bent down to carefully nudge one into alignment with the rest. Then he dusted his hands off and put them on his hips, his expression relaxing into a satisfied smile.

Something in his manner made Poppy think how she felt after putting together the perfect scrapbook page, or the way other trolls acted when engaged in hobbies that they enjoyed. Hobbies that were important to them.

Suddenly she was ashamed of her inner criticism. Maybe it was just Branch's nature to be the way he was, all super-serious, diligent, and intense. Meticulous about details to the point of fussiness. Even as a trolling he had always held himself apart from everyone else, preferring to work rather than play. That didn't make him a bad person – or a bad friend.

But now she sensed that Branch was not as different as she'd thought. His puppet-bait ploy had had an unmistakable spirit of trolly playfulness to it. And really, he's very smart, and inventive, too. What other fascinating things would she discover about him?

Poppy went home that day full of hope. The young princess knew there was a lot more fun - happiness - inside Branch, just waiting to be let out. All he needed was someone to help him find it. Lucky for Branch, fun is what I do.

Author's Note:

I'm using the phrase "snaptraps" instead of "mousetraps" since I doubt there are mice in the trolls' world.

Yes, Branch's "bolt-hole" is actually just the entry-level floor of his bunker. Lol, of course he was careful not to let on that there was a lot more to it, or that it was, in fact, his home. No sense in giving out any more information than he has to.

I debated how much more aggressive I should make this version of Branch. Canon Branch is not a killer. In the first movie, the spiders he was fighting got eaten by the cave-creature, but that was an accident. I think he thought it was a real cave. He sure seemed surprised (and relieved) when the spiders got eaten, so I don't think he did it on purpose. He used a spork against Bridget and choked Creek with his hair, but he didn't really hurt anyone. Even in the second movie, the "weapons" Branch whittled didn't even have sharp points, and the rocks looked kind of soft and furry. Cartoon series Branch loves to use traps to deal with predators, but he doesn't attack them with deadly force.

So I don't think any version of Branch is a killer, not if there's any other way to deal with his problems. That being said, this story's Branch is enough of a realist to plan for scenarios where he might have to be a tad bit more brutal, shall we say…