-O-
Picturebook Romance
A Trolls fanfic
By Dreamsinger
Chapter Forty-Six
Falling for Her
I gazed at the opened invitation in my hands with pensive eyes as the swirl of bright sparkles fell all around me in a great, glittery cloud. Looks like it's that time of year, huh? And this time it's Poppy's turn. I bet she's really excited. I shielded my eyes as I looked across the grassy field outside my bunker. The dawn sky was an exquisite bright pink, so perfect it was almost a match for my trollhood friend's beautiful rosy hues. I can't believe it's been that long already. Where did the time go…
-O-
In the three and a half years since I'd moved into my bunker, I had paid scant attention to what went on in the village I'd left behind. At first, because it hurt to think about everything and everyone I'd lost. Even though I knew I could have gone back anytime, why would I?
There's no point, I thought, not without regret. What I want, and who I want, the village can never give me.
So instead I'd focused on fulfilling my heart's desire: building a safe, secure, hidden home. A place where I could get away from the world; where no bergen could ever find me. Beyond that, my bunker was a place where I could be myself without being pestered to be more social, or fritter my time away on meaningless amusements that I found not in the least amusing.
Here, I could create my own agenda. I could do anything I wanted, without having to worry about what others would think of me. I didn't have to worry about hurting anyone. I had no one to please except myself. This is the opportunity I've been looking for since I was little. The chance to take action. To be my own troll. To take control of my life and not be at the mercy of the choices of the people I've been tied to, especially when those choices made me fear for our safety. For the first time since I had my own pod when I was twelve, I'm truly free!
I did have some qualms at first, of course, but once I'd gotten over my initial homesickness and the inevitable worry that I'd made the wrong choice, I'd begun seeing more and more possibilities with each passing day. I'd thrown myself wholeheartedly into my bunker's planning phase, and eagerly started a series of journals to document my progress. I was proud to see what I could achieve when I put my mind to it.
My Bunker Journals, as I called them, had had another benefit. They'd provided a welcome outlet for my thoughts; especially after a necessary but frustrating trip back to the village to get some type of supply I hadn't had the time or the knowledge to make for myself yet. My journals gave me a way to say what I needed to say without having to worry about what my listener might say back. Or bottling things up until I freaked out, or exploded.
I might be feeling more empowered these days, setting out on my own version of a grand journey, but I hadn't forgotten the reasons I'd finally taken that fateful leap. I hadn't forgotten the deep, aching pain, both given and received. I hadn't forgotten the stormy slew of emotions that often followed me home after a visit to the place I'd once called home, but was home no longer.
Spilling everything inside me, no matter how horrible, into the pages of a book no one but me would ever read was oddly satisfying, in a way. I could complain all I wanted, and no one would call me a party pooper. I could be rude and nasty to other trolls within its secret pages, and have the comfort of not actually hurting anyone. It helped me to work through my emotions so I could feel more at ease, and move on to other things.
As time passed, I had gradually settled into my new life. My self-confidence increased, and my turbulent emotions calmed. As I acquired more knowledge and supplies I needed to visit the village less and less, which meant fewer confrontations with other trolls, and consequently, less need to use my journal as an emotional dumping ground. In fact, more than once I'd debated whether to have two separate journal-series, one for project planning and one for personal stuff, but the line between the two was often blurry. That, and I'd have to take time away from all the other projects I was involved in. I had half a dozen thick volumes by then, so I shelved that project for later.
Speaking of projects, did I have a lot of them! I'd spent the first two years ardently developing the elaborate infrastructure that would make my bunker more than just a hole in the ground. I created entire systems to provide basic amenities like lighting, ventilation, running water, heating, and waste drainage. Intruder traps, surveillance periscopes and listening tubes for security. The elevator-lift system for transportation. A kitchen, a bathing pool, a weapons arsenal, and a weight-lifting room. Anything I could imagine, anything at all, I could build. The Whizbangs taught me well.
I wondered from time to time if my old mentors would be impressed with everything I'd created, but mostly I tried not to think about them. Inevitably, thoughts of Tuney and Savvy would remind me of someone else, someone better left forgotten. If I got too caught up in old memories, my progress stalled. So I tried to block out the bad thoughts the same way I always had, by keeping myself too busy to brood.
That hadn't been hard during the first few years, when there were so many new and challenging things to create, but this year was different. I'd shifted my focus to growing, gathering, and preserving food and other resources, using a combination of controlled blasting and digging to add new storage rooms as needed. I was still busy, but my relentless pace had eased somewhat, now that the main push to outfit my home was mostly complete.
I made occasional trips to the village to pick up those rare supplies whose sources came from the various bugs and other creatures the village had befriended. Also, to get the recipes for some of the tasty desserts Poppy had shared with me, about a year and a half ago now, back when she had wanted to spend so much time with me. When she'd had a crush on me, or so I'd suspected.
That sure wasn't the case anymore. I didn't see much of her these days. Even her crush on me, if that's what it was, had only lasted for about a month. As her royal responsibilities increased, and my tendency to cause public scenes became less common, in her mind I must have needed less of her attention than her more pressing challenges. Even her personalized invitations to me grew rare, in favor of the general invitations that everyone received, like the one I now held in my hands.
I missed them. I missed her. The impromptu visits, the picnics, the cheery chatter. Her air of genuine interest in me as a close friend. I didn't want to admit it, but I really missed having someone pay attention to me, like Leafe, Cherry Blossom and my foster dads had. Somehow I'd managed to forget how good that felt. But now that she'd reminded me, there were times I found myself wistfully thinking of Poppy, and the way she'd looked at me. Attentive, engaged, earnest. As if, despite the odds, I was somehow important to her.
-O-
"Oh, Branch. Of course you were." From across the pillow, Poppy gave me a sweet smile. "We've always been friends, haven't we? You've always been important to me."
I gave my girlfriend's hair a gentle squeeze with my own, and she squeezed back. "Thanks, Poppy. You've always been an important friend to me, too." My eyes unfocused as I let my mind drift back to the past. "Even more than I'd realized…"
-O-
My clever use of slime had been the perfect key to turn off the lovestruck princess' interest. Her daily visits and deep conversation had dwindled into occasional, surface-level chats and friendly waves in passing. I was oddly disappointed, but I told myself firmly that it was what I wanted. Sure, I missed her company, but I was busy, too.
Time marched on. Now, a year and a half later, a post-bug delivered an invitation to my bunker.
To celebrate her graduation from school.
Poppy was fifteen now, the age when trolls left general education behind and focused on specialized apprenticeships, to learn their adult professions. In other words, the pretty pink princess was no longer the little trolling I'd grown up with.
I wasn't the same Branch, either. I'd been through a lot over the last few years, most of it good, but some of it not so good. There were days when I felt lonely, anxious or sad. Days when I had frustrating or potentially dangerous problems with my bunker's systems, or had to run from – or even fight - a fierce forest creature. But all in all, I felt as thought I'd learned a lot. I had much more confidence in myself since my tearful retreat from the village at age fifteen. I'd grown up.
Or so I'd thought.
Then Poppy had developed that crush on me. When I'd finally caught on, I'd reacted with the same old pattern, almost frantically resisting the very idea of intimacy as if no time had passed.
-O-
As I headed into my bunker, staring at the glittery invitation, I remembered the exact day my friend's strange behavior started. It was recorded in my journal.I'd been sitting on one of the hills on the outskirts of the village, sketching a field of bright red poppy flowers in colored pencil. I'd caught her sneaking up on me, but instead of just acknowledging my mastery of the art of camouflage and moving on with her day, like she should have, she'd started acting weird. Out of nowhere, she'd started giving me compliments, and talking about my clothes and hair. She'd even wanted me to get a makeover, for hair's sake!
My trollhood friend had started visiting me every day after that, smiling even more than usual. Over the next few weeks, she was always complimenting me, touching my hair, or hugging me, even when it wasn't Hug Time. She would bring me snacks and other little gifts and waste my time with excessive amounts of idle chatter. It was kind of annoying.
Although I had to admit that I did like the snacks. And the compliments, at least at first.
Of course, I'd also suspected she was just buttering me up because she had some really big, ridiculously dangerous caper in mind. A crazy plan so dangerous that even her dad, the king, wouldn't let her do it unless she had someone competent like me along to save her when she inevitably got into trouble. I didn't say anything to her directly, biding my time until she decided she'd earned enough brownie points to ask me for what had to be a monumental favor, with all the effort she was putting into it.
It had taken a week before I'd finally come to the tentative conclusion that I might have been wrong to be suspicious of her motives. She really did seem to just want to hang out with me. Not that we hadn't been friends before, but this felt different somehow. For one thing, she giggled all the time, as if she found me amusing. A lot of trolls did. But I'd also noticed that she was stammering and blushing a lot, almost as if she were intimidated by me. A few of the more timid trolls acted like that around me, but Poppy never had.
Hey, I'm not that grumpy, am I? I mean, to be fair, I'm not always as polite as I probably should be... At the automatic rise of guilt, I defended myself, Well, I don't go to the village to gossip. I hate small talk. I just want to finish my business and get going, but some trolls just can't take a hint. They'll keep you talking all day if you let them. Besides, it's awkward to be invited to have tea or something, when you can't reciprocate. It's not like I can reveal the location of my bunker. It's bad enough that Poppy knows where it is.
That reminded me - not once had Poppy ever demanded that I let her come in and see my bunker. Yes, she'd promised she wouldn't, but I hadn't really believed she was capable of restraining her lively curiosity. Not for this long. She's not acting like herself. At least, not the Poppy I remember. That made me think. We hadn't actually seen much of each other in the past two years. If I'm not the same troll I used to be, maybe she's not the same, either.
Just in case I really was making her nervous, I had tried to be more patient with my friend, but it hadn't been easy. Besides the giggling and stammering, there was the eye thing. Sometimes she'd avoid my gaze, laughing as if she were embarrassed. Other times she'd stare deeply into my eyes, like she was trying to look into my soul or something. Maybe she's just really into staring contests. I couldn't figure her out. I couldn't decide if it was disconcerting or amusing. It's weird, is what it is. Our future queen is weird. And they call me weird.
Something else occurred to me. Maybe there's something wrong. Something she feels she can't talk about with any of the village trolls. Always ready to look on the dark side, that made a lot of sense to me. I wonder what it could be?
I was concerned enough to start scheduling some Poppy-time into my daily agenda to investigate. After all the support she's given me over the years, the least I can do is be a listening ear for her. Maybe I can help.
It seemed like I was finally on the right track. Once I started giving her my undivided attention, Poppy started opening up to me, telling me about things that truly mattered to her. I'd always assumed that, being the princess, most of the problems she faced related to her royal duties, but it turned out that she had just as many personal issues, with her friends, and her dad.
Not having much experience with being close to others, I felt a little out of my depth, but I did my best to assess her situation. From what I could tell, Poppy often overestimated her knowledge, her skills, and how much she could handle. Her biggest problem was her tendency to overcommit to too many obligations. That could sometimes run her ragged, and then she'd make mistakes, and upset people.
So many times I was tempted to tell her she ought to spend less time worrying about others and more time taking better care of herself, but the one time I did, she was shocked.
Through her eyes, I realized I seemed callous, and selfish. Poppy wasn't me. She was the princess, and that meant something to her. I knew she honestly believed that taking care of others was her life's purpose, and I respected that. So, no matter how frivolous it was, from then on I gave each problem she brought up serious consideration before I spoke.
My effort paid off, as she rewarded me with affectionate hugs. "Thank you, Branch! You're so smart!"
"S-sure. No prob." I tried to act casual, but for some reason her admiring approval made me blush. It was as if I were a little trolling again, being praised by everyone for creating my sugarfruit soup to heal Jaunty, Poppy, and the other sick trolls.
Every time Poppy came to see me and told me how my advice had helped her, I felt good inside. It was nice to have someone take me seriously for once. It made me feel close to her, closer than I'd felt to anyone in years. I didn't realize how much I'd missed that.
Knowing that Poppy appreciated me made me want to reciprocate. I found myself telling her some of my own problems, sharing more with her than I had with anyone in a long time. Even just having her listen and ask questions was helpful, since I often came up with new ideas for solutions while I thought out loud. Also, it made me feel better just to vent to someone sympathetic.
She gave me advice, too, of course. Sometimes it was even useful, since she tended to approach problems from a different angle than I did.Of course, her solutions usually involved hugs, which I chose to interpret as "befriend pests and predators whenever possible", like the inferno flower that had recently encroached on one of my gardens.
It turned out to be a surprisingly beneficial idea. I was able to negotiate with the flower. It got to feed on the forest creatures (but not trolls) that were lured in by my vegetables, keeping my garden free of pests. The flower also burned and ate whatever waste I didn't want to use in my compost heap. Its super-hot flame was also very useful for making glass or metal objects, or melting down and re-using material from broken ones. In return, I made sure the flower had water during droughts.
Troll Village had similar symbiotic arrangements with all manner of creatures, but it hadn't occurred to me to try it until Poppy reminded me. I tended to think in terms of defense, not of establishing connections.
Still, the more I'd learned about what life was like for Poppy these days, the more I'd started to worry that my friend was having real trouble fulfilling her duties as princess. Why else would she suddenly start coming all the way out here to see me every day? Sometimes more than once a day. Unless it's because she knows I'll be a more objective listener than the average troll, since for the most part I'm not affected by her decisions? Or maybe she just appreciates a more rational point of view. I smiled, feeling unexpectedly flattered. It's a nice feeling, to know that she trusts my judgment. Not everybody does.
I decided I ought to start paying a little more attention to current events so I could offer Poppy an informed opinion on various topics. Poppy had seemed delighted in my renewed interest in village affairs. She even set up a series of interviews with me on supposedly "important" topics, which she called "Troll to Troll." I was glad to agree, only to end up frustrated because Poppy didn't seem to want to take them seriously. They usually ended up more as silly arguments than real debates.
But even so, I kind of enjoyed myself. She even called me 'beautiful' once.
We did other things together, too. Poppy gave me an invitation to come with her to one of Harper's painting classes, which I accepted. I painted a picture of the field of cute poppy flowers where Poppy and I often met, and was pleased with the result.
After a while, I found myself looking forward to Poppy's visits. It was nice to do something different, after two years of nothing but hard work. Even walking together on the path to the village was more enjoyable with my perky friend skipping merrily by my side, singing a happy tune. Her over-the-top enthusiasm was so infectious that I even found myself skipping alongside her once in a while.
I had to admit that I was glad Poppy had decided to renew our friendship, whatever the reason. She was good company. Being with her made me feel at ease.
Of course, it turned out that Poppy had had a little more in mind than just friendship.
-O-
"Kisses!" I'd spluttered, spraying the grass with pink lemonade. "Poppy, what are you talking about?"
For once it was Poppy who'd gotten flustered and run off. I'd started pacing around the picnic blanket, my mind flipping between confusion and alarm. What is going on here? All this talk about loneliness, and hugs, and – and kisses? Seriously? Who does she think is going to kiss me? Unless she meant…
I cut off the thought with a shake of my head. Come on, Branch. She said she was only kidding. What is this, some kind of prank? I stopped walking and snapped my fingers. Of course. A prank. That's gotta be it.
Pranking was a favorite game among trolls. Even I had been known to pull off some truly epic pranks, a fact I was quite proud of. But I was not too proud to admit when someone else proved their own prank-mastery.
"Okay, you got me. You can all jump out and laugh at me, guys," I called out. "I know you're there."
I looked around, expecting to hear a burst of hilarity from Poppy's friends as they leaped from the bushes, but not one tufted head appeared.
"Guys?"
I let the ensuing silence stretch out for a long time. Nothing happened, other than the grass and bushes swaying gently in the cool breeze.
Okayyy, so, not a prank. I took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. Then…it has to be…
I lost my cool and started pacing again, fast and frantic. "This is weird. This is so, so weird. If I'm right, how did this happen? Why did this happen?" I tugged on my hair and grimaced. "Why does Poppy have a – a crush – on me? And how do I make it stop?"
I heard myself let out a long, drawn-out whimper, but I was so freaked out I didn't even care. "It blows my mind. I can't believe I'm even thinking this! It can't be true, and yet…it explains everything. Why she's been paying so much attention to me lately; why she's seemed both happy and nervous to be around me. Why all this time I've had the feeling that she wanted something from me. Well, it looks like I was right, but I sure wasn't expecting anything like this!"
I groaned loudly, throwing myself down on the picnic blanket and dragging my hands down my face. Seriously, Poppy, what were you thinking, falling for me of all people? I know they say love doesn't always make sense, but come on! We're total opposites. The princess and the gray grump?
The sarcastic thought actually amused me a little. The party girl and the workaholic? The socialite and the hermit? The optimistic ray of sunshine and the pessimistic stick-in-the-mud? How would that even work?
"It wouldn't," I answered myself, and sighed unhappily. Poor girl. Poppy, I like you. I really do, and I'm flattered, but I just don't see you in the same way. Much as I hated the thought of seeing her bright little face cloud up in disappointment, I couldn't just manufacture romantic feelings for her out of nowhere. I wasn't looking for a relationship, or even a fling. Even if I had been, to me, she was still a trolling. I wasn't interested in her like that.
Maybe she thought I was, though.
Does she think I'm in love with her?Now came the guilt, and a growing feeling of panic. "Oh, man, she probably does. I've even been encouraging her, spending all this time with her lately. I never spend time with people. What was I thinking? Of course she'd get the wrong idea!" Moaning, I rolled from side to side and then curled up in a ball, fighting the urge to cocoon myself in my hair like I used to when I was little. This wasn't a problem I could hide from. "This is insane. What am I gonna do?"
Usually when I had a problem like this, I'd go to Poppy for advice. "I can hear it now: 'Hey, Poppy, how do I reject your affections without breaking your heart or ruining our friendship?' Yeah, like that conversation's gonna go well."
All right, I couldn't go to her. In fact, I needed to stay away from her. Yeah, that's it. Maybe if I avoid her for a while, this will all go away. She can't push her feelings on me if she can't find me, right? Crushes aren't supposed to last very long. If worst comes to worst, I could just hole up in my bunker for a while.
The thought of my bunker made me feel a little better. It had been my sanctuary for two years now, my safe space. It was always there to protect me and make me feel safe in a way that no living being ever could. Yeah, that will work. Poppy won't try to get into my bunker. She promised me that years ago, and so far she's kept her word.
My brilliant plan to avoid her had only lasted three days before Poppy caught up to me and made me face the fact that I did, in fact, enjoy having her around. She didn't say anything about having a crush on me, though, and I didn't ask.
From that point on, Poppy had begun volunteering to help me with my work, something she knew I couldn't help but approve of. I knew she didn't really care about the work; she was only doing it to please me. I couldn't help but feel flattered. She also hugged me a lot, even when it wasn't Hug Time, but she didn't try to kiss me or anything like that, so I didn't object.
I wanted to enjoy her company while I could. I knew it wouldn't be long before she made a move on me. Then I'd have to reject her. We'd have an awkward, embarrassing, painful scene, and this would all be over. I just wish I knew a way to reject her without hurting her. Or losing her friendship in the process.
I wished I hadn't skipped so many of my school's relationship classes. Besides Poppy, there was no one I could go to ask for advice, not anymore. No way to find out if there was some socially correct, standard way to reject someone without hurting their feelings.
I could just tell her to go away, but I do that all the time – well, I used to - and she always came back. If I get really mean, I could probably get her to leave me alone, but I'd definitely lose her friendship then. As annoying as she can be sometimes, she's the only friend I have left. I thought of the dim, silent confines of my bunker and a cold wind of loneliness swept over me.
Think, Branch. You need to figure out a way to discourage her without making her feel like you don't care about her. How do you make someone fall out of love with you?
Maybe I could say I've fallen for another troll? Hmm… I'm gonna hold off on that option for now. She might give up, but I'm pretty sure that then she'd want to play matchmaker between me and this fictional troll. Yeah, no. I can just see the fiasco.
Um… Tell her that I'm too busy to see her? I scratched my chin thoughtfully. Nah, that wouldn't work. I'm always busy. Besides, I… I do want to see her. Once in a while. She is my friend, after all. I just need to drive all this mushy stuff out of her head. Hey…mushy stuff…gross stuff… That's it!
When I hit upon my 'call her my sister and gross her out with slime' solution, I was pleased at how well it seemed to work. Poppy might have been a little subdued for a while after that, but I thought she seemed to take the idea of being like a sister to me pretty much in stride. In fact, as time passed, I even came to doubt whether she'd been in love with me at all.
Either way, things had gone back to normal between us, so I was satisfied. Guess I didn't need those classes after all. I figured it out on my own, like I always do. Mission accomplished.
-O-
And now she's graduating from school. They grow up so fast. It seems like only yesterday she was playing with her classmates... I thought fondly my friend, looking so bright and happy and full of high spirits as she led the cheering pack of teenage trolls on a nimble rollerblade race through the tree branches. Oh wait, that was yesterday. Still, Poppy's reached a milestone in her life. She's one step closer to being a beautiful queen someday.
Wait wait wait, what did I just think? Beautiful? I shook my head vigorously. She's not beautiful. Well I mean she is, she's always been pretty, but has her face always been so…I don't know, radiant? I closed my eyes to recall the image of a lively, quick-witted pink girl wearing a sky-blue dress. She had laughing rosy-pink eyes and a big grin, with a bright spray of glitter freckles sparkling on her cheeks. A vivid magenta ponytail swished behind her as she zoomed past me.
She looked the same as always. Didn't she? And yet…now that I think about it, maybe there is something... Something that kept me turning to watch her as she sped past me. Is there something different about her? I couldn't quite decide.
Maybe I should check it out. I hadn't had a good puzzle to solve in a while. Life in my bunker was stable and predictable, just the way I wanted it, but I was long overdue for a new challenge. Besides, it's not like there's anything particularly urgent on my schedule at the moment.
Intrigued, I began studying my trollhood friend. Sometimes I used my bunker's surveillance periscopes, but mostly I followed her directly, hiding behind plants and boulders, or observing her from one of the overhead trees. When there wasn't a bush or a rock around, I'd wear one of my costumes. Costumes were one of the few popular troll customs I heartily embraced. They made excellent camouflage.
While I watched, I pondered. I'd spent the odd moment or two thinking about Poppy over the last few months. Just idle musings, really, on how my life might have been different if I hadn't preemptively counteracted the pink whirlwind's budding crush before it had a chance to fully take hold. Every time, I'd decided that most likely my life would've been pure chaos by now.
I made the right choice.
And yet…
No. I'm not going to second-guess myself. There are so many reasons why a relationship with Poppy is a terrible idea. Even if I was looking. Which I'm not. And neither should she. She's too young to even be thinking about stuff like that. Isn't she?
Well…she is almost sixteen. Technically, she's an adult. The corner of my mouth went up in a half-grin. As if any troll besides me can ever be considered an adult, anyway…
-O-
After a few days of spying – er, intensive research, I came to the conclusion that Poppy was definitely prettier, and just as vibrant and fun-loving as she'd always been. A literal ray of sunshine.
I also made a fascinating discovery. When she thought no one was watching, sometimes Poppy showed sides of herself I hadn't known were there.
When she made a mistake, she'd keep her cool in public, usually. If she accidentally hurt someone's feelings, injured herself because she was showing off, or encountered some other kind of confusing or frustrating problem, she would act confident, empathetic, or reassuring in front of the other trolls.
But that's what it often was – just an act. When she thought she was alone, she'd freak out. She'd be upset, angry, embarrassed, or sad. Once, she even put her face in her hands and cried.
I was stunned. I'd never realized that she had those emotions. They didn't last very long for her, of course, but just the fact that she felt them at all somehow endeared her to me. They made her seem more real.
For the first time in my life, I could see myself in her. I knew all about being unhappy.
Other trolls got upset too, of course. But somehow even when she was telling me about her problems, Poppy had always seemed perky and carefree, mostly immune to the bad parts of life. It was irritating in a way, but also reassuring.
Most of the things other trolls got angry or upset about were, in my opinion, silly and unimportant. But I knew that Poppy's worst worries revolved around disappointing people. Of not living up to her own or others' high expectations of her as the princess. Again, I could relate to that. I had high expectations of myself, too.
It really bothered me to see her inner light fade, even for a moment. My trollhood friend was a passionate, spirited, caring girl. I appreciated her struggle to be the best troll she could be, despite knowing that it was impossible, since none of us was perfect. I could totally empathize with her.
I didn't like the idea that she might feel like she wasn't good enough. Poppy is one of the best trolls I know. She should never have to feel bad about herself. I'm the gray troll, not her.
So I quietly kept tabs on her. I could always tell when she was feeling down, and I'd go and cheer her up. At first she would pretend that nothing was wrong, but I wouldn't let her get away with that. I'd raise a skeptical eyebrow, cross my arms and tap my foot. "You're not fooling me, Poppy. Now come on, what's really bothering you?" I didn't let on that most of the time, thanks to my discreet surveillance, I already knew the situation.
Eventually she would tell me what was wrong, and I'd work on making her feel better, offering practical advice, mechanical know-how, tasty snacks, or just a sympathetic listening ear. It was worth the extra time and effort, to see her sunshine smile return. Like always, it made me feel warm inside.
I became ever more fascinated by the person I thought I'd known so well, so fascinated that I grew careless. Occasionally when I was watching her, someone like Biggie would see me and speak to me. That threw me off my game. For some reason I had gotten the idea that what I was doing needed to be kept secret, and I didn't know why. So I found myself blushing and stammering and making excuses to run away, or diving into the nearest bush to hide.
It was even worse when Poppy herself unexpectedly caught me. I had never let on that I was only in the village because of her; I always pretended we'd just incidentally run into each other. I would even gather sticks or something to make it look like I was only there on business. I knew she was wondering why I was spending so much time in the village lately.
I wondered myself. It's not like I was Poppy's only friend. She had an entire village full of friends to confide in who would be glad to cheer her up when things went wrong.
-O-
"That's not exactly true," Poppy commented.
"What do you mean?"
"I didn't have a lot of people I could talk to. Remember how I told you that I was afraid to act unhappy around the other trolls? As the princess, most trolls see me as a source of strength and guidance. Seeing me sad or scared would make them that way, too. Like in the bergen pot. You saw what happened, Branch." The darkness in my bedroom matched the way her expression suddenly dimmed. Her voice went rough and scratchy. "When I gave up, so did they."
I thought about that as I studied her solemn face. "I see your point. In a way, it sounds like you were almost as isolated as I was."
"In a way, I was," she said quietly, her voice still a little husky. "I wanted to be as good a leader as my dad. I wanted to do everything right. I knew I could always ask him for advice and he would always make time for me, but, well, he was always so busy helping others… I wanted to figure things out on my own. I guess I didn't want to disappoint him."
"Oh, Poppy." I patted her hand, feeling bad for her. The two years I'd spent with Jaunty and Courtley had taught me what having caring, attentive parents was like. It saddened me to think that her father's duties kept him from being more involved in his own daughter's life. If I – if we - ever have trollings, I'll make sure that doesn't ever happen to them.
I reminded her, "You know your dad is proud of you. You're his pride and joy. Mine, too."
I was glad to see her face brighten. "Aww, thanks, Branch. Coming from you, that means a lot. I've always been grateful that I had you - and our other friends, of course - to rely on." My girlfriend pulled my hand toward her face and pressed her lips against it for a long moment, her eyes shimmering affectionately over the edge of my hand.
I brought our clasped hands back toward me so I could return her affection, gazing lovingly at her while kissing her palm. "And you always will, Sunshine."
-O-
It was around that time that I began to notice some odd physical symptoms. Sweaty palms, loss of appetite, sleeplessness, racing heart, hair tingles, and a strange but not unpleasant rippling feeling in my stomach. I thought maybe I was drinking too much coffee. One of my favorite ways for hiding in plain sight while watching Poppy was standing in the line of trolls waiting for a cappuccino. Sometimes multiple times a day. Maybe I ought to switch to the line for apple juice for a while.
Or maybe I'm coming down with something. That made sense, since I was spending more time than usual in the village. If I was sick, it wasn't too serious, because it didn't bother me much. In fact, I felt almost giddy at times.
Normally I associated that feeling – having fun - with nervousness. A worry that things were out of control and that someone was going to get hurt. But there was no physical danger here. No wild rides on flyer bugs or loud music that would give away our location. No daring trips into the forest to face the unknown. I was just…working on a project, investigating the secret side of a friend who had turned out to be a lot more interesting and deep than most trolls.
Besides which, the sensations themselves felt strangely familiar, although I couldn't place my hair on where or when I'd experienced them before. If I had, I'd obviously survived. They didn't hurt, at any rate. In fact, despite the loss of sleep I felt full of energy, so it was probably nothing. I'd go see Doc Whipple if the symptoms didn't go away in a week or two, but I was too busy right now. I wanted to be nearby if Poppy should need an emergency cheer-up session.
That's what I told myself, but really, I was eager to see more of her secret side. I learned a lot from simply observing her, but it wasn't enough. I wanted to know more about what else she kept secret from everyone. I knew she wouldn't talk openly with me in front of the other trolls; but when we were alone together - well, big difference. She does a good job of pretending, but she's actually a lot more vulnerable than I ever realized. I felt like she really did need me to look out for her. When she was upset, I even wanted to hug her, which was weird.
Ugh, hugs. The bane of my existence. I shook my head in disgust, then reconsidered. Except maybe with Poppy.
-O-
Back when she was giving me all that extra attention, I'd noticed that the quality of Poppy's hugs had changed. When their Hug Time bracelets went ping, most trolls automatically came at me the way they'd been conditioned to from the time they were hatched, latching onto me with generic, overenthusiastic affection whether I was ready or not.
Maybe she'd had a crush on me, maybe not. But for whatever reason, Poppy had begun to approach me more gently, searching my eyes for acquiescence before slowly sliding her arms around me. Her irrepressible energy seemed to disappear, and she sighed and let her body relax into mine. It was really more of a cuddle than a hug. Normally it made me incredibly uncomfortable when another troll tried to cuddle me, but with Poppy, I found I didn't mind.
Maybe because it reminded me of the day I met my foster dads, back when Poppy and I first became friends. The day I slapped her. The day the small six-year-old princess had defended me from her dad, the king, taking my blame on herself, and we all ended up in a cuddly group hug together. The day that, for the first time I could remember, I'd felt safe, and loved.
So when Poppy had started wanting to hug me all the time, not just during Hug Time, I'd let her. It was flattering, and warming. When she'd melted into me, I'd found myself wanting to hug her, too, so I had. I'd hugged her back. And it felt good, so good I'd even let my body relax against hers, indulging her long past the time when other trolls would have gotten the brush-off. I even felt a little wistful when a hug ended. I'd been a little disconcerted when I realized that.
-O-
Then maybe it's not so weird.
Musing about hugging was a complete waste of time, of course, but it still had a way of sneaking into my thoughts during mindless, repetitive tasks, or when I was in bed. Maybe I'm just finally learning to like hugs. I may be gray, but I'm still a troll.
Curious, I conducted an experiment. The next day I intentionally participated in fifteen Hug Times, making sure to hug different trolls each time. By the end of the day, I was able to confirm without a doubt: I still disliked hugs. Oh, not everyone's. I could tolerate hugs from trolls I knew, when it was just the two of us, but I usually didn't get the warm feeling I associated with Poppy's hugs, for some reason. Group hugs I still hated with a passion.
So it's only her hugs. Why?
-O-
I began to dream about hugging this new Poppy, the vulnerable girl who felt bad and cried in secret. Dreams where I wanted only to comfort her and make her feel better, where I held her face and looked deeply into her beautiful rose-colored eyes, which shimmered with feeling. I would run my fingers through her bright hair, making her smile lovingly up at me. A wave of tenderness would fill my chest, and I'd put my arms around her and hold her close, gently rubbing her back. She would put her own arms around me and stroke me, too.
Sometimes our hands would go to other places, like our hair. Or our ears, which I really liked. Poppy's gentle hands would slide down further, stroking me all over my whole body, and I would return her affection the same way. Usually, we didn't seem to have any clothes on, which was nice. Clothing would have just gotten in the way of the touching. It all felt very natural to me.
I liked those dreams. They were a welcome change from my usual nightmares, and I began to feel that they were somehow special. Did all trolls have dreams like these? If so, I could see why they all seemed to love Hug Time so much. I had to admit it: hugging, at least with certain trolls, was actually pretty awesome. I would be in a good mood for hours after waking from such sweet dreams.
I noticed that I was sprouting more often when I got up in the mornings, but I think I must have been hiding the truth from myself, because I didn't really make the connection until one morning when I woke to find my clothing all sticky.
Aw, really? Now? Man, I wanted to finish that dream. It was a good one, where Poppy was hugging me and looking totally adorable. I wanted to take her pretty face in my hands, and kiss her sweet lips, and- Whoa, what the what? Kiss her? Kiss Poppy?
My brain shut off. I went very still, as if I was suddenly in danger.
My heart began to pound. My breath stuttered in my throat.
No.
Oh, no.
I've been having hottie dreams. About Poppy.
"No no no, this can't be happening!" My voice cracked like it hadn't in years. "Not again. After the last time, I decided that this was never going to happen again. Never! No more crushes!"
Author's Note:
The Troll to Troll interviews are actually extras on the DVD or Blu-ray discs, but you can also find them on YouTube. Here's a link to the "Trolls TV Commercial Reel" version, where at about 51 seconds in, Poppy says gleefully, "You look so beautiful!" From Branch's sly, playful grin, we can see that even when he was gray, he still had that presence, the sheer charisma that we know and love. I also see it as a sign that he did have a sense of humor, however snarky and sarcastic, on some level.
watch?v=vYS5TlKLqSA
You might think that Branch would get freaked out about Poppy's crush on him simply because of the age difference. While that might be a factor, it's not as taboo for trolls as compared to us humans. See, I figure that large age differences among couples in the village are common, because so many trolls were eaten by the bergens. When they escaped, there probably weren't a lot of eligible partners to choose from. The survivors had no choice but to marry each other, so some couples likely do have a decade or more between them.
I figure that most of the unattached trolls older than Poppy are probably already married to many of the trolls in her age range, since with a narrow range of choices, the older trolls who couldn't find spouses of the same age range would have had to wait for the next generation to grow up. That means trolls like Poppy, who are just coming into the age where they're thinking about marriage, would have most of her potential partners already spoken for.
Thus, in turn, she'd probably have to wait until the trolls even younger than she to grow up. Branch, in fact, is probably the only unmarried troll over 25. I'd guess their other friends are all in their late teens / early twenties.
So with the example of their own parents, the younger generations probably won't see large age differences between partners as something to get too bothered about. Of course, they themselves will have more choice in the matter. I estimated that at the point where the first movie began, twenty years after Troll Village was established, about 150 of the approximate 262 trolls - more than half the village - are under twenty years old. Nearly 60% of the villagers are trollings and teenagers! No wonder they mostly all act so young. They literally are!
That's a very young village. It's a good thing in a way, since younger people tend to adapt more easily to drastic change, such as when Poppy befriended the bergens, and meeting and accepting all the different troll tribes in World Tour.
