-O-

Picturebook Romance

A Trolls fanfic

By Dreamsinger

Chapter Sixteen

The Incident

As I walked out of the tent, I saw Poppy make a shooing motion with her hand at someone.

"Something wrong?" I scanned the passing festivalgoers, but no one seemed to be paying us any attention.

"Oh, no, someone was just asking me for…advice about something."

"Oh, really?" I commented with a fake air of nonchalance. "Is this for that thing you're planning that involves me that you don't want to tell me about?"

"Maybe," she admitted, and gave me a smile that was half sincere, half nervous, but she didn't elaborate.

My good mood burst. "Aw, come on, Poppy!"

"Sorry…" She leaned forward, ducking her head a little as she tried to appease me.

I tried to avoid her big puppy-dog eyes, flinging my head back to growl up at the trees high above us as my hands clenched at my sides. She waited. Finally I peeked at her, standing there with her hands clasped in front of her, leaning toward me and giving me that hopeful little smile.

I huffed. Irritated or not, I wasn't ready to spoil the good time we'd just had. "This is really frustrating," I grumbled, gritting my teeth as I tried to rein in my temper.

"I know, Branch." She gave me a sympathetic look. "Please try to be patient. It'll be worth it. I'm sure it will be..." she mumbled under her breath, but my keen hearing caught it.

I crossed my arms and scowled at the perky pink pest. "You know, I get the distinct impression that you really don't know how this crazy plan of yours is going to turn out."

She put an arm around my shoulders and lifted her other hand, grandly sweeping it through the air like the lovable, overenthusiastic [drama] queen she was. "And yet we're going through with it anyway! Isn't optimism wonderful?" she said blithely.

I rolled my eyes, trying to hide the smile that wanted to break through.

"Good job verbalizing your feelings, by the way," she added unexpectedly. "I'm proud of you."

I uncrossed my arms as I blinked, losing my grip on my grumpy mood. I knew what she meant. In the past I used to completely lose my cool when I was angry or upset; criticizing, shouting, stomping my feet, throwing and breaking things. Since I'd finally learned how to be happy, negative emotions just didn't have the power to bite me as deeply or trap me in their grip the way they used to.

Part of that of course was because of my ever-growing closeness to Poppy, ever since the Trollstice incident. But it was also because I was more social than I had ever been. Now, when I got upset, I had people to lend a sympathetic ear; people who cared, people to whom I truly mattered. That made it easier to get it all out before it had a chance to build up inside me and explode in a rush of undeserved fury upon the nearest target.

Like now, feeling the last of my irritation melt away and welcoming the warm spread of comfort that replaced it. "Thanks," I replied, and added honestly, "I'm proud of me, too."

"Trying a new look, Branch? I like it," came the voice of Fizzy Speckles as he trotted past, carrying two buckets full of cold water. I guessed he was going to refill the small covered tub in which he kept his chocolates cool, floating in their watertight gourd bowls. A sensible precaution, considering how sunny it is. Unless we get an un-serendipitous visit from a certain infuriating cloud, it feels like it's going to be fairly warm out today.

Seeing Fizzy reminded me of the chocolate caramels I'd enjoyed, and how Poppy had run off and we'd enjoyed some privacy and singing…and flirting…and…

"Uh, thanks, Fizzy," I belatedly called after him, hauling my mind back to the present.

Man, I haven't been this fuzzy-brained in years. I shook my head vigorously, feeling my new, longer hair catch the air. Poppy's unexpected confession had awoken the starry-eyed romantic in me, leaving me apt to drift off ridiculously easily into a world of rainbow sparkles and sunshine. And I couldn't be happier about that.

Fizzy's compliment was only the first of many.

"How nice you look today!"

"You look good in pink, Branch. You should wear it more often."

"Hey, lookin' spiffy, Branch, my man."

A few trolls commented on Poppy's pretty outfit, but not nearly as many as I would have expected. But then, she wears a lot of different outfits. I only had one preferred style, so even when I wore a new set of clothes, no one had ever seemed to notice. Well, except for Poppy, of course. Her attention to detail was good for more than just scrapbooking.

My thoughts caught. You know, she said she wanted to get to know me better even when I was gray. So maybe she had other reasons to notice what I was wearing back then…

Poppy's voice woke me from the contemplative state I hadn't been aware I'd fallen into yet again. "Everyone really seems to like your new outfit, Branch. We should do something nice for the twins to thank them for all their help."

"Yeah," I agreed, my mind shifting course to settle on my recent conversation with Satin. "Poppy, have you ever suspected that the twins aren't really stuck together at all?"

"What?" She gave me an astonished look. "Of course they are. They were born that way."

"I know, but what I mean is, did you ever notice that Satin's hair grows out from her head a light green, and Chenille's is a light blue?"

"I guess so, but what difference does that make?"

"It means that really they aren't one, singular troll. If they wanted, we could probably separate-"

"Branch! How could you?" Taken aback, I cringed at her stern tone, my ears pulled back against the sides of my head. My girlfriend threw her hands into the air, looking outraged; as close as most trolls besides me could get to condemnation. "There's nothing wrong with them! They're twins, and their hair is one of the things that makes them special and unique!"

Glancing furtively around, I was glad to see that no one seemed to have been close enough to have heard us talking. Thankfully, by now everyone was used to Poppy overreacting to some of the stuff I said, so no one seemed inclined to freak out like they had earlier, with all the panic about Poppy going gray again.

I hadn't realized that other trolls besides me still worried about that. At least none of them had my secret qualm; that Poppy had learned how to be gray and negative from me, even as I'd been learning how to be happy and positive from her.

But just in case, I took her hand and pulled her away from the marketplace, taking cover behind some tall grassfronds. She let me guide her, but put her hands indignantly on her hips once we stopped moving and glared at me.

I sighed. Looks like she's not going to forgive me that easily. I took a deep breath and said placatingly, "Of course they're special, Poppy. I know that. They're my friends." Hunching my shoulders, I tried again. "But it's only hair, Poppy. It wouldn't hurt them."

She huffed. "Maybe not physically, but how about psychologically? Hasn't it occurred to you that if they wanted to be apart, they would have cut it by now?"

"Would they, though?" I held out my hands to the sides, palms up. "Maybe they just feel that they have to be together because everyone expects them to be. Unique, as you said. That's one of the things they're known for, right?"

"I-" Her eyes widened, and she took a step back, a hint of uncertainty filtering through her challenging posture. "I guess so, but…you make it sound like a bad thing. Listen, Branch," she said sincerely, "it's important to accept people for who they are. You wouldn't say anything to a troll whose eyes were a little wonky, would you?"

"I would if they caused him the kinds of problems the twins' hair causes them."

"Problems? What problems?" She shook her head. "Sure, they argue sometimes, but-"

I put an awkward hand on her shoulder, a little embarrassed at having to spell it out, but after the way they'd acted today when they saw me with no clothes on...

"Poppy…they're adults now. What if one of them wants to get married someday?"

"Oh." For a moment she looked pensive, then shrugged off both my hand and her worries. "I guess I always assumed they would just marry the same troll."

That was something I hadn't considered. "Well, I suppose that would work," I said thoughtfully, "if they were all happy with that arrangement. But what if each of them wants to marry a different troll?"

Her eyes widened. There was a longer pause this time and I watched her pink face grow pinker. "Yeaaah, that might be a little awkward," Poppy finally admitted. "That might be a little too much sharing, even for trolls."

I smiled slightly. "Poppy, you know me. One of the things I'm good at is anticipating problems and coming up with solutions - and for all you try to pretend otherwise, I know you see this problem, too. As the queen, you have a duty to look out for trolls who have unique problems, right? Isn't it a good thing to try and address them instead of pretending nothing's wrong?"

"Well…" Her body slumped in defeat. "What could we do? I can't just tell them that they should – I couldn't possibly – I can't even imagine them like that." She gave me such a look of distress that I put my arms around her without a care that some troll might spot us hugging when it wasn't Hug Time. My young queen clung to me for a long moment and I rubbed her tense back gently, trying to soothe her unexpected agitation. I had no idea this would upset her so much. Good thing I didn't say anything to the twins directly.

"Sorry, Poppy. I didn't meant to pressure you. It's not exactly urgent; I just feel like we should all let them know we're open to the idea of them being two separate individuals. That we appreciate each of them for who she is, and that we'd be just as happy to hear two great soloists as we are to hear a duet."

"Aw, Branch…that's so sweet."

I felt her relax against me, her soft body and sweet scent enveloping me in comfort. I hoped that I was doing the same for her. Softly, I said, "Listen, Poppy, I didn't grow up with them like you all did, but it seems to me that everyone thinks of them as a single, fixed unit, together forever."

"Of course they are; they're twins."

"So if they cut their hair they won't be twins anymore?"

"Yes! Wait… Oh." She went quiet, then said slowly, "I see what you're getting at. They'll always have that bond, physical ties or no. Huh. I've never thought of it quite like that before."

"See," I leaned back and held up a finger as I gave her a look that was only slightly smug. "This is one of those times when seeing things from an outsider's perspective is a good thing."

"You're not an outsider, Branch."

"Maybe not now, but I was. By choice, maybe, but I definitely was."

She was silent for a minute, and then murmured, "Maybe you weren't as much of an outsider as you think, Branch."

"Come again?"

"Nothing." She twirled out of my embrace and grabbed my hand. "Oh, come on, we're at a festival. Let's go boingo-riding!"

"I'm up for that," I agreed, glad to see her spunk back. As I followed her back into the throng, I made a mental note to be more careful of what I said to her. Is it just my imagination, or is Poppy more touchy than she used to be? Is it because she's the queen now? Or…is it because of me?

-O-

A few minutes later we were bouncing and bopping and stretching and twisting, clutching the rough, scratchy ropes tied through the center of each hollow-centered berry. Boingo fruits came in many different colors and were highly resilient to being squashed; in fact, the original game came about because someone had discovered that the desserts made from boingo fruit were sweeter when the pulp was crushed first.

I loved the challenge of riding them - boingo fruits were twice as high as a troll and nearly oval in shape so that they rarely went exactly where you wanted them to go.

My sore stomach muscles really didn't want to work at first, but after they'd had a chance to warm up they actually felt a lot better. Poppy didn't seem quite as incapacitated as I'd felt at first, but then, she was more used to the kind of boundless laughter we'd enjoyed last night. It had been another new experience for me; a precious memory now.

The boingo fruit riding range was at the edge of the market square, in a large meadow perfect for racing, and so we did, laughing and whooping and just generally enjoying ourselves in a way that had once seemed so foreign to me, so pointless and wrong. Now I thrived on such fun, especially when I was with Poppy.

My spunky queen won the first two races, but I made a victorious comeback in the last one, winning by virtue of my impressive nose.

Like a good sport, she clapped her hands and cheered for me. I grinned at her, feeling happy and sweaty and beginning to think about what I wanted for lunch when she leaned forward and blew me a kiss! My ears went hot and I glanced around quickly, but none of the merrily jouncing trolls around us seemed to have noticed anything, so I turned back to her and grinned. I felt a lot better now that I'd managed to work off some steam and ease the tension between us.

For a while, I'd actually managed to forget that she loved me. Romantically, I mean. I'd known I had the special love Poppy reserved for her closest friends ever since the bergen escapade, just as she'd had mine. I hadn't quite realized then that she had my heart, too. After all, what could a hermit truly know of love? For years now, I'd told myself the poetry I'd written was just natural admiration for a terrific person. As if she would ever be interested in someone like me, anyway.

But she is, I mused absently, not noticing that my movements on the boingo fruit were gradually slowing down. My stomach felt fluttery in a way that had nothing to do with my sore muscles as I let my gaze follow the one troll who could stir up such emotions in me. She notices me now. She wants to kiss me, and cuddle with me. I swallowed. She even wants to play bedroom games with me.

Poppy and me, together… What would it be like? Curiosity, nervousness, eagerness, anticipation – an onslaught of emotions dragged me this way and that, blocking out everything else. I couldn't help but imagine kissing Poppy. I'd press my lips to hers, pull her close to me and then-

"Look out!"

The frantic shout came just as two boingo fruits slammed into my stationary one from opposite sides, squashing it and shooting me skyward like one of Cooper's rockets. I yelped and windmilled my arms as I came down, ramming into one boingo fruit after another as the trolls on them squawked and shouted. Boom! Bam! Badoomba! Dum-dum-dum-dum-dum!

I was richocheting so fast I could barely see anything but whirling scenery. "Help!" I howled.

"Branch!" A stream of magenta shot toward me and I flung out my own hair to twine with hers. She yanked me hard to the side and I spotted my abandoned blue boingo fruit coming at me and flipped in midair to hit it butt-first. I managed to snag the rope as the oversized fruit rebounded into the air, my arms practically yanked from their sockets as I hitched and hopped, scrambling to stay topside and regain control over what felt like a bucking deerwing.

"Whew!" I said as I regained equilibrium. I looked around dizzily to see everyone staring at me. Half the trolls I'd hit were on the ground, glaring up at me after being knocked off their boingo fruits by the unexpected, chaotic projectile. Me.

"Heh heh, sorry, guys," I put a hand on the back of my neck, knowing I was probably purple with embarrassment. "Just got a little distracted. My bad!"

"Is everyone all right?" Poppy called out, and got a chorus of affirmatives as everyone began to get up and remount their boingo fruits. Soon the field was a mass of bouncing colors again, like rainbow drops on a trampoline.

As my dizziness began to wane I moved my limbs and twisted my neck and spine assessingly and started to notice a few sore spots that would no doubt become bruises soon. I groaned, a little theatrically.

"Branch, are you okay?" Poppy had stayed by my side and turned to give me a look of concern.

"I think I wrenched my everything, but yeah. No serious injuries."

"Thank goodness." She put a hand on her chest in relief, and then did a complete about-face and scowled at me. "Branch, what were you thinking? You could have caused a serious accident!"

I winced at her volume. "Since when do you care about accidents?" I said defensively.

"Since you stopped caring, apparently. Maybe we should mandate helmets for boingo riding if even you, despite your excessive emphasis on safety protocols, managed to end up like the ball at a buzzyball game."

"I didn't follow them," I muttered. I hated to admit it, especially because right before we started, I'd just reminded Poppy and those trolls currently riding boingo fruits about the importance of paying attention to the other riders, holding on tightly to the coarse boingo ropes and moving with the flow of traffic, but I didn't want people to think the fault lay with my protocols.

"What? I'm sorry; I didn't hear you." Poppy gave me a curious look.

I growled and repeated deliberately, "I said I didn't. Follow. My protocols."

Every troll there gasped loudly, heads swiveling toward me and boingo fruits ceasing to bounce.

"Oh my gad," came Smidge's unmistakable throaty voice, even though I didn't see her nearby.

Poppy gave me a strange look halfway between bewilderment and annoyance. "For hair's sake, why not?"

Cooper's voice rang out, "Yeah, you always scold us when we don't follow your fanatical safety-"

Poppy and I looked around, but wherever he was, Cooper didn't finish his sentence and I was too busy squirming under the combined stares of a dozen gaping trolls to think about it. Really, it felt like I was being blasted by a spotlight.

Oh wait, I am.

I lifted my forearm to shade my eyes and glared up at the source of the blinding light. "Do you mind?" I demanded indignantly.

"Sorry!" several voices replied, and the spotlight cut off.

Poppy ignored the whole exchange. "Branch, what happened?"

I was back to squirming again, and I did not enjoy it. "I was distracted, okay? Accidents happen. That's why helmets are a good idea!"

To my surprise, every troll there nodded. I heard one troll comment to his neighbor, "That makes sense. If it can happen to Branch, it can happen to anyone."

Poppy and I exchanged surprised glances, then smiled at each other. "That's right, everyone," I announced. "No one is perfect. We should all take my, uh, mishap as a lesson and make the right choice: to choose to wear helmets whenever we ride boingo fruit. After all, it only takes one second for an accident to cause permanent bodily harm..."

I would have continued with my lecture, enjoying having the attentive ear of every troll there, but Poppy interrupted. "Good idea, Branch. Thank you for that brief and graphic demonstration of the dangers of boingo fruit riding. Everyone, I'll see about getting some helmets for-"

Suddenly a pink helmet came flying through the air toward her and she caught it neatly with her hair, staring at it in puzzlement. "Where – who -"

More helmets of various types and colors showered down on us and we all caught them. Poppy peered up at the trees above us, shading her eyes, but apparently couldn't see where they were coming from any more than I could. She called out, "Thank you, mysterious benefactor!"

A voice I thought I recognized started to reply, "You're wel-" and cut off. Poppy waited for a moment, but it was silent.

She looked at me. "If you weren't here I'd have thought it was you. Do you know who that was?"

I shrugged, donning my helmet, sliding my hair through the opening in the top that allowed my hair stay free in case I needed to use it. "This is one mystery I'm happy to leave unsolved." Actually, I was beginning to suspect what was going on, but if I was right, I wasn't about to interfere. Thank you, indeed.

As much as I hated to admit it, this wasn't the first time I'd made such a public mistake. I'd made worse ones, including one for which I'd paid a pretty high price.

-O-

When I was twelve, I got a pod of my own.

After two years of living under the stabilizing influence of Courtley and his husband Jaunty, I'd improved a lot. I was still gray, still by no means a 'normal' troll, but I had grown from an intense, high-strung, wiry little trolling into someone calmer and more confident. Both academically and socially, I was doing well in school; I'd had relatively few conflicts with the other trollings, and none at all in the past six months.

I felt better physically, as well. Living with two super-athletic trolls meant lots of extra exercise every day, which gave me a huge appetite for the healthy foods we all cooked and ate together, and deep, nightmare-free sleep most of the time. I was bigger and stronger, too, catching up to and even surpassing most of my classmates in size, which had also done a lot for my sense of self-assurance. I didn't feel quite so helpless anymore.

And while I still wasn't comfortable in some social situations, I could handle myself better, and had even made a few friends, mainly older trolls who shared my interests.

Laurel Whizbang was one of them. I had gotten to know her when my newest foster parents had asked her parents for help in modifying their pod to allow me to have a room of my own for my tenth birthday. Finetune and Savvy Whizbang had been happy to help, and during the construction I had met their daughter, Laurel.

At fourteen to my ten, Laurel was in a different class at school and so had never had to deal with my moody, irritable nature as my own classmates had, which made it easier to start our friendship off on a positive note.

A pretty, vivacious, light-fuchsia troll with lemon-yellow hair, grass-green eyes and a cool mid-green nose, Laurel Whizbang was really smart and nice and already planning to follow in her parents' footsteps. It was fun to listen to her enthusiastic responses whenever I asked a question about building stuff, or 'engineering' as she called it, and before I knew it, I became interested in it, too.

Two years had gone by much faster than I would have guessed, and while I hadn't forgotten the bergens, I had been able to find other ways to deal with my fears, such as using the constant exercise to both work off my anxiety and train my body to be in top shape for the day they finally came for us. I was also experimenting with building things that could help defend the village.

Through it all, Jaunty and Courtley had been as caring and supportive as any trolling could wish for. Out of all the foster parents I'd ever had, they'd come the closest to truly understanding me. If only I hadn't overheard that conversation…

But I had, and now the only solution to avoid a lot of pain for everybody was me, on my own, as I should have been years ago after the time I slapped Princess Poppy. As I'd thought then, it really was the best thing for everyone.

Still, not everything about my decision was bad. Like a good troll should, I tried to focus on the silver lining. I would have lots more time to focus on learning how to build things, for one. And just because I'd broken ties with Jaunty and Courtley didn't mean I'd lost the other friends I'd made while I lived with them.

Laurel, for instance, had been helpful in finding a way to convince my foster dads to let me leave them.

"I just can't live with them anymore," I had admitted painfully after telling her about the conversation I'd overheard.

"Why don't you just talk to them?"

"It wouldn't do any good. You know that."

Her silence confirmed my assessment of the situation.

"So, what do you think I should do?"

"Could you say you want to live with someone else?"

"No," I said instantly, and bit my lip. "I don't want them to think I want somebody else more than them."

"Then…how about just asking for a pod of your own?"

I tilted my head, intrigued by a solution I hadn't even thought of despite weeks of soul-searching and a return to brooding, sleepless nights. "What, really? You think they'd let me?"

"Why not?" she replied with her typical cheeriness. "Your birthday is coming up. You could ask for a pod of your own, couldn't you?"

And so I got my own pod. Even though they really didn't want me to go, Jaunty and Courtley arranged for Laurel's family to make me one, and I even got to help build it. I'd worried that King Peppy would object, but he had been pleased at the progress I'd made and saw no reason to deny my request, especially after I told him and my foster dads that having my own pod 'might be just the thing I need to make me truly happy'.

It was a new, exciting chapter in my life's scrapbook, as with more time to devote to my engineering studies, I discovered that I seriously loved the entire process of creating things. When I was occupied with planning, organizing, calculating, and learning to wield tools with the correct amounts of strength and precision to create useful things out of raw materials, hours, days, even weeks could go by with nary a twinge of anxiety.

After living in my new home for a few weeks, I had gotten the idea to modify my pod to make it capable of storing the maximum amount of clothes, food, seeds, farming tools and other important supplies that it could hold, things we could pack up in a hurry when the bergens found us and we had to escape them again. This time, we wouldn't have to worry about being cold or going hungry like we had when we'd first established our current village.

I didn't tell anyone what I was doing. It was easier than having to listen to people telling me to forget about the bergens.

As I worked, I truly felt like I was finally taking positive action to address those issues that other trolls ignored. The feelings of relief and contentment I experienced even brought back memories of happier times with Grandma that I'd thought long since buried within me.

I also appreciated the peace and quiet, even though there were times when I got really lonely. Without realizing it, I had gotten used to the constant, caring presence of my foster dads. Sometimes I missed them so much that I even became willing to accompany Laurel to social events – events that she had always made a point of inviting me to – academic lectures, art unveilings, games, picnics, even parties.

It came as something of a surprise that with all the new things going on in my life, I actually had interesting things to talk to people about, and that they actually seemed to enjoy listening to me.

The other trolls began to respond to the change in me, too. Soon I even began to receive invitations from trolls other than Laurel (and Poppy, of course), and while I wouldn't say I was rampantly happy, I was more satisfied with the direction my life was going than I ever had been. I'd never slept so well, or had such a sense of well-being. It gave me confidence.

Too much confidence.

The next major change in my life happened after I'd been living on my own for about three months. I'd finished modifying my pod, adding as many storage areas as possible, and leaving just a tiny living area along one wall. I'd been steadily filling my pod up with supplies of all kinds. Food, of course; containers filled with vegetables, nuts, mushrooms, dried fruit, and also sticks, tools, clothing, blankets, soap, books and more. Everything I thought we might ever need.

Finally, finally, I had the sense that I was in control of my life.

I don't remember the incident at all, but from what they told me, one day some trolls saw me standing on the branch adjacent to the one my pod hung from, using my hair to toss acorns into my pod. Then I swung inside my pod, and the door closed. There was a sharp crack as the branch broke.

And my pod fell.

It crashed into the ground and pretty much exploded, a massive jumbled heap bursting out over the grass like the guts of a smashed melon. And they knew I was in there somewhere.

Some trolls panicked - screaming, running, fainting - while others rushed forward and began digging through the rubble, cutting hands and tearing hair, searching for me. Tiny seven-year-old Smidge, being low to the ground, finally spotted my black hair buried under a broken section of shelving that had caught on the next shelf over, leaving a small pocket of space underneath that probably saved my life. I was buried under everything that had been on the shelves, and although everyone warned her to stay back, she – strong even then – volunteered to crawl in and drag me out.

I was badly injured, bleeding and unconscious. A lot of trolls thought I was dead.

The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a dimly-lit room, barely able to see, and I hurt all over. I heard a noise, and suddenly I realized that there was something tight around my head, my body and limbs, squeezing me. A bergen's giant clawed hand?

I let out a shriek, lashing out with my hair, feeling it strike several moving things and grinning fiercely at the resulting yelps of pain. I roared in triumph and agony, my body a mass of claw slashes and shattered, throbbing heat. Maybe the other trolls have let themselves be eaten, but I won't give up without a fight!

Suddenly a mass of something powerful gripped me, trapping me. That's when I went completely berserk. I flogged the things around me as hard as I could, screaming in defiance, over and over as my ribs shot fire through me with every breath. Kicking and thrashing, I strained against my bonds, feeling them begin to separate.

Suddenly someone nearby started singing a soothing lullaby. I faltered, letting my roar die as I listened in confusion. Bergens don't sing...

As other voices joined the first, I slowly became aware of the other trolls in the room. I was in the doctor's pod. The constriction I'd felt was bandages over what felt like every inch of my body, and also several trolls had wrapped me in their hair to keep me from hurting myself more, bravely bearing the stinging lash of my hair.

I'd been attacking my own people, the trolls who'd saved my life! I was mortified. I'd hurt them and terrified them and everyone else in the village within earshot with my feral, out-of-control behavior. I squeezed my eyes shut, unable to bear the sight of their shocked, concerned faces.

-O-

I found out later that I'd been unconscious for almost two days. Thank goodness little Poppy wasn't there when I woke up, I thought as I moved my boingo fruit carefully to the side so I wouldn't be a hazard to the others while I berated myself for my past folly. I was like a wild animal. I'm so glad she's never seen me like that.

-O-

I stayed in the doctor's pod for over a month. I was pretty badly injured. An arm and a leg broken. Several ribs cracked. Numerous bruises, cuts and scrapes. A mild concussion. Doc Whipple said I was lucky not to have fractured my skull. She thinks I used my hair when I felt myself falling to protect myself, maybe by creating a globe of hair around me to cushion the shock when I hit the ground and then something fell on me and knocked me out.

I'll never know for sure. I don't remember the incident at all. Doc Whipple said that's not uncommon with head injuries, to lose short-term memory from right before it happened.

I recovered from the physical injuries just fine, being young and strong and fit, but there were some long-term repercussions that I wasn't expecting. After I'd been at the Doc's for a few weeks, King Peppy visited me. Gently, he told me that he and the older trolls had decided that I wasn't ready yet to live on my own.

"That's not fair! I know I went a little overboard, but I just need to make some new calculations, that's all. I made sure to figure out how much weight a pod can handle; I just didn't think about the branch. It's not a big deal!"

"Er, when you woke up…" He looked uncomfortable. Trolls have a hard time when it comes to anything unpleasant or negative. Except for me, of course. I was used to it.

Still, I winced at the reminder. "I'm sorry about that. I apologized to everybody I hit. I didn't mean to; I thought they were bergens. And they all forgave me and said they were sorry for scaring me. So everything is okay now."

Strangely, King Peppy didn't smile. "Branch, you scared a lot of trolls, very badly. Everyone was so upset. Some even thought we were being attacked by, er-"

Suddenly I grinned. "By bergens? Well, it's about time. Maybe they'll take me seriously from now on."

The King's usually jovial face looked shocked, and then took on an expression I'd never seen before. Utter despair. "That…is a terrible thing to say, Branch."

At the sight of his disappointment in me, my ears wilted.

"I don't understand. I don't know where we've gone wrong… We trolls need to rely on each other," he murmured softly, not really looking at me. His eyes grew distant. "Rosiepuff, what would you say to him?" he whispered.

I pictured her face wearing the same look of weary sadness King Peppy wore now, and all the fight went out of me. Tears filled my eyes. "King Peppy, I'm sorry. I'll live wherever you think best. Am I going back to live with Jaunty and Courtley?"

Part of me was glad. But would they even want me, after everything I'd done?

King Peppy beamed at me as if the last few minutes hadn't happened. "Wonderful, Branch, my lad! No, I've been thinking: instead of foster parents, what about sharing a pod with someone closer to your own age? Do you know Leafe?"

"Leafe? I think so. He's about sixteen, isn't he?"

"That's the one. What would you say to becoming his roommate?"

I thought about it. "I guess I wouldn't mind."

"Splendid!"

It turned out to be a good choice. Leafe and I got along okay. He was more intellectual than most trolls, with a lively curiosity about the world and he was full of facts and figures that made him interesting to talk to, which I'm sure the King Peppy knew when he asked Leafe to be my roommate. I didn't try to fill up his pod with extra food or supplies, assuming that this was my last chance. After the uproar I'd caused, I told myself it was only because I'd been so badly hurt that I hadn't been banished from the village then and there. This was my last chance. I was sure of it.

I lived a fairly quiet life with Leafe for the next three years. Leafe Sage was yellow, and had glasses, warm teal-blue eyes, blue hair, and an orchid-purple nose. Unlike most of the other trolls I'd lived with, while he was kind, Leafe wasn't overly expressive, being steady and logical by nature. He taught me some cool math tricks and some of his favorite recipes when we cooked meals together, and asked me how things were going once in a while, but otherwise we basically just lived our own lives.

Neither of us was home much, anyway. Leafe was studying to become a teacher, and then about six months later, he began dating an intelligent, pretty troll called Cherry Blossom.

I liked Cherry Blossom. She was a little more soft-spoken than most trolls, which I appreciated, and seemed to understand the need to give me my space. She was a few years older than Leafe and had met him when he'd chosen to be a teacher and apprenticed himself to Cherry Blossom's former mentor, who had introduced them to each other. The two of them had a lot in common and it hadn't taken long for them to fall in love.

Part of me was happy for them, but watching them together made me terribly lonely sometimes. They reminded me of Jaunty and Courtley's easy, loving familiarity with each other, and with me. I missed it badly, especially at first, and spent a lot of miserable nights stifling my tears in my pillow.

I didn't say a word to Leafe. I was sick of feeling guilty for ruining the lives of the trolls who opened their homes to me, and had resolved to live as quiet a life as possible from then on.

I never went back to live with Jaunty and Courtley. They visited me when I was recovering at the doctor's pod, and I had an awful time convincing them that I wouldn't be returning to their pod when I was healed. Much as I wanted to, I had too many reasons not to. I avoided them from then on.

Laurel's parents were horrified that I'd gotten so badly hurt, in part because of their influence in getting me interested in engineering. As usual, I couldn't bear the weight of guilt when I was around them and so I avoided them, too.

In fact, aside from school I stopped socializing, for the most part. Occasionally I would accompany Leafe to some event that interested me, and a few trolls who knew me would still chat cheerfully enough with me if I met them in the village, but I couldn't help but assume that most of my fellow trolls probably thought I really was crazy.

I began to withdraw back into myself, aimlessly wandering the forest for hours at a time, unconsciously looking for somewhere that I could recreate the same feeling of peace and safety I'd enjoyed in my own pod.

Author's Note:

Poor Branch! He just can't seem to catch a break. Every time life starts going good for him…kablooey! Still, he is learning from every mistake, and he won't give up. He's a fighter, our Branch.

I'll reveal more about this mysterious conversation that Branch overheard in a later chapter, never fear! ;)

In this author's note I would like to address a couple of questions asked in my reviews, because they make some good points and I can't reply to them via PMing – literally, there is no 'reply' icon for me to click. (Readers, if you want me to reply to a question you must sign up for an account at , which is easy and free, and gives you features like being able to keep a list of your favorite stories and authors so you can find them again easily.)

*One of my replies is quite long, so feel free to skip ahead to the next chapter if you'd like :)

First, a Guest asked if I will have a lemon scene, where our favorite couple will make love to each other.

Answer: Probably. It would seem weird if they didn't, wouldn't it? With them both being adults in love, and troll society being so touchy-feely in general, and not having to worry about trollings since in my version of Trolls, they only have two fairly short periods of time, twice a year, when they can create a trolling, and that's not going to be anywhere near when my story takes place. It will have to be Teen-rated here, of course, but if it turns out I'm good at writing lemons I can always post a longer version on the Archive of Our Own website. I have the same username, 'Dreamsinger'. I will try to make it as sweet and loving and fun as I can.

The other comment, by Sonicxamy, asks about why I have Branch taking on roles and attitudes that in our culture are usually thought of as feminine traits, and whether the idea of casual nakedness makes sense in the troll society. The short version of my answer comes first. The longer version, written after I thought about it for a while, is below the quote from Sonicxamy.

*Short Answer: One of the things I truly admire about DreamWorks is how they are subtly endorsing a more inclusive, non-judgmental attitude regarding a lot of stereotypical behavior and ideas, unlike some competing companies... For example, there are quite a few comments/jokes in both Frozen and Wreck-It Ralph (both are still favorites of mine, though) about 'unmanly' traits in the male characters that I really wish had not been said. Kids pick up on that kind of subtle disapproval and incorporate it into their view of the world.

But in Trolls they seem to make a point to go against cultural stereotypes in a way that I really like, that makes you realize just how ingrained they are in most of us, such as 'pink is for girls and blue and green are for boys'. (I know Poppy is pink, but honestly I cannot imagine a character as energetic and almost irritatingly optimistic as she is as any other color.) And yes, Branch has stereotypical 'boy' colors and interests – he likes science and building things and is very athletic -but Poppy is also superbly athletic, AND is the leader of the village.

There are a lot of examples of deliberately going against the norm that I absolutely adore. I like how in TBGO how they have a recurring male glitter troll character who is pale ice pink with pale lavender hair, yet he has a perfectly masculine voice. Both village doctors and the highly-regarded Nova Swift are female. Whenever any of the male characters say or do something sentimental, it's seen as natural by all the other trolls. In the Ask Poppy short on Youtube, Branch is willing to dance with Guy Diamond and doesn't seem to think there's anything strange about dancing with another guy.

I especially like how none of the trolls or bergen characters are what we would call conventionally beautiful, but they see themselves and each other as attractive, which makes me want to try harder to see people for who they are, not what they look like.

In Trolls 2 World tour, Guy Diamond, who (we assume) is male, has a baby (an egg pops out of his hair and hatches). So here's another example of Dreamworks going against the (human) social and biological norms.

Makes me wonder, though – is it just glitter troll males who have baby trolls, or do all males give birth? If so, our very idea of 'male' and 'female' has blurred quite a bit. So does that mean females take on the role of males in the human world when it comes to making babies – giving seed? How? With their hair, maybe? Sooo many questions…

*Long Answer: I had a comment from Sonicxamy that makes some good points about trolls, tolerance and troll culture in general in regard to clothing, or lack thereof:

Sonicxamy's Thoughtful Quote:

"As much as i love the tolerance in it, there are things that just doesn't makes sense to me. First of all, if being naked around other trolls is completely normal, why wear clothes and underwear in the first place? And secondly, if males wear skirts and dresses is normal, why won't they do it? If that is the case then the trolls shouldn't know much about masculinity and femininity when it comes to clothes. Tolerance is good but too much tolerance doesn't make sense sometimes. All and all this is my favorite fanfic! I just like to think that our beloved trolls do have some social limits."

You make some excellent arguments. I was honestly wondering if someone would mention them, because the points you make are the exact same ones I debated on for quite a long time before taking my fic in the direction I did. I'm super happy that someone was thinking deeply enough about my fic to wonder about these things! :) I will happily tell you my reasoning, then.

The whole 'naked-is-normal' idea came from the original concept for the trolls, where they were all actually supposed to be naked, according to the extras on the discs. They eventually went with just having the glitter trolls be naked, but I thought the idea was pretty interesting, and the canon Trolls Holiday 'Tearaway Pants Day' offers some support for the idea that nakedness is not seen as a big deal.

Also, in the real world there are nude beaches and nudist colonies. In addition, I have read and been influenced by a really intelligent science fiction/fantasy series called the Apprentice Adept series by Piers Anthony, set on another planet where the people are divided into clothed rulers and naked serfs, and on that world, nudity is everyday-normal and clothing is considered both a status symbol and sexy (under certain circumstances). The serfs (including the main character) do their everyday work, and have families, and compete in The Game, which is basically a vast collection of every type of challenge imaginable – mental and/or physical, and every year the winner becomes one of the ruling class. Nudity just doesn't matter to them much, since nakedness is the norm on their planet.

In regard to the TBGO TV show, it sends mixed messages, to be honest. Poppy definitely gets embarrassed to see Gristle and later, Branch, in their underwear. I assume it's because the creators have to conform to strict rules about promoting conservative attitudes regarding sexual behavior on children's TV shows. But then, they also have Guy Diamond cheer Branch when he drops his pants, "You go, boy! Naked forever!" so I'm guessing the creators are not very condemning people in general, and so by extension, neither are their trolls.

Why do the trolls wear clothes at all? Many reasons. Fashion, of course. Protection from the elements, or rough/uncomfortable surfaces (ever sat on a metal bench or plastic seat in the hot sun? Ouch), or to keep from getting dirty, or to show social status. (Poppy's crown and royal robe, for example).

I like your comment 'if males wear skirts and dresses is normal, why won't they do it? trolls shouldn't know much about masculinity and femininity when it comes to clothes'. I think you mean why don't the trolls in the movie or show ever cross-dress, and to take it a step further, why even have the concept of male and female clothing at all?

I have read articles that say we humans (and the characters we create, including trolls) use clothing to help young children tell boys from girls. This is a logical thing to do for a movie/TV series aimed at children, since most of us are going to be born physically either male or female and are going to grow up to feel attraction for a mate of the opposite sex (not gender, which is the very idea of being male or female inside your head). Having specific, traditional clothing styles for each sex helps make the choosing less confusing. (And I think it actually sets up the very idea of 'looking for a mate'.)

There may be hermaphrodite trolls, of course, or gay or trans or other genders (trolls like Smidge, who is referred to as 'she' on TBGO, make me wonder if she was born male and chose to be female, or if she just ended up with an unusually deep voice and other traits we define as masculine for no particular reason other than to make her amusing, and distinct from the other characters), but for the majority of trolls, sex-based traditional clothing makes sense, at least for the young trolls who are still learning 'boy' from 'girl'.

Branch is an adult, so there's no problem with mate-hunting-confusion here – he's male, and is attracted to Poppy, who is female. You'll notice I did put Poppy in a couple of boyish outfits, too – t-shirt and shorts, and in jeans and flannel. On the whole, I went mainly with dresses for Poppy not just to satisfy stereotypes but also because they tend to be more fancy and flamboyant, which suits her personality. (And dresses are just a lot prettier to imagine and describe than most boys' clothes.)

Why, then, did I choose to have the trolls in my fic be open-minded about whether a male wears a dress? Partly because I support tolerance and acceptance myself, and partly because the trolls just seem like they're not the type of closed-minded people who would make a fuss over a guy in a dress.

(Note that it's not the same as saying that it's 'normal' to see a male wearing a skirt or a dress. Most trolls will wear the clothing that's traditional for their gender simply because it's just the typical, everyday type of clothing that happens to be worn in the village.)

But Sonicxamy asked, if no one would condemn them for wearing clothes of the opposite gender, why don't we see more males wearing skirts?

Probably because it just never occurs to them to do it. Each gender gets used to their traditional type of clothing and is comfortable with it.

…Or maybe, what if they do, and we just don't know it because they don't make it a big deal on the show and so we never notice? Smidge, for example. She could very well be a cross-dresser, and everyone knows, but no one minds.

TBGO also shows some support for that here - In Cloudy With a Chance of Hugs, Branch wears a dress to indulge Cloud Guy and doesn't seem particularly embarrassed about it (although I concede that could be because no one other than Cloud Guy saw him in it), and of course, in Model Behavior he wore a lot of clothes and makeup that could be considered feminine and seemed to revel in it. And in Mr. Glittercakes, the other trolls expected him to wear all sorts of clothes, including at least one dress, the same one he wore in Cloudy With a Chance of Hugs.

And while it doesn't relate to clothes, I noticed in the TBGO YouTube short 'How To Dance Trolls Style', Branch is shown about to dance with Guy Diamond and it doesn't seem to bother him at all that he's going to be dancing with another guy.

To address what Sonicxamy said about social limits, oh, they definitely have them. But their social limits are different from ours. But I feel that although it's not usual for males to wear a skirt - and they might comment on it or perhaps tease him gently about being cute - I doubt the average troll would seriously condemn Branch for it.

See, the sense I get from the show is that what is condemned and considered obscene are actions that show little regard for others' feelings. In TBGO, when Satin is telling the other trolls that Chenille skips every third Hug Time and stamps her name instead of signing it on her thank-you cards, judging by their shocked gasps, I got the feeling she was letting slip what amounted to her sister's Dirty Little Secrets, the same way a cross-dressing man might be publicly shamed in our society.

As you might have guessed, Branch gets a lot more condemnation for the way he goes against social norms like, say, stomping on a party invitation, or not wanting to socialize (during his gray years). To the other trolls, that's a sign of someone who is mentally disturbed, who should be looked at with suspicion, and avoided. I plan to explore some of that as I tell more about Branch's past.

One of the reasons I decided to write this story is because the trolls' social conventions are so delightfully different from ours. Of course, the main reason was the Broppy! :)