-O-
Picturebook Romance
A Trolls fanfic
By Dreamsinger
Chapter Forty-Eight
A Special Time of Year
Poppy rolled onto her stomach, sliding her arms underneath her half of the pillow. "Did you really kiss the picture you drew of me?"
I rolled my eyes. "Ugh… Yeah. Don't remind me."
"Aww, I think it's sweet. Don't be embarrassed, my little Love Muffin."
"Yeah, well… Moving on…"
-O-
It was a beautiful day. The sky was a perfect light blue; the white clouds especially fluffy and bright. The sun was warm and felt good on my skin. There was a brisk breeze that made the air smell crisp and fresh, filling me with energy. As I grooved through the meadow on the outskirts of the village, my feet were light and my stride bouncy. For once, I was in high spirits. I was in love!
I was actually, truly in love, with a wonderful, caring person. Someone who was smart, sweet, and brave. Someone who could entice me into having fun despite myself. Someone who even seemed willing to put up with my un-trolly grumpiness, all because she genuinely wanted to be with me. I needed her sunny presence in my life. More than that, I welcomed it.
And yet, she was someone who also needed me. As the princess, Poppy was going to have more than her fair share of challenges in life. I was sure she would be glad to have me around to help her with them. Poppy even felt unhappy sometimes, just like me. She might be the only troll out there who could truly understand me. We could be there for each other, and keep each others' spirits up.
Poppy was The One. I just knew it!
My head began to tingle; a deliciously shivery feeling I assumed came from the pleasurable stroke of windy fingers through my hair until I noticed my skin was tingling, too. Wait a minute… I stopped walking and held my hand up to my face. Is it just my imagination, or is my skin glowing pale blue?
I squinted at my arm, but in broad daylight it was difficult to tell. What's going on? Trolls change their hair color, not their skin color. And even if we could; I can't. I'm gray.
A fleeting thought that I hadn't always been gray crossed my mind, but before that thought could really sink in, I was interrupted by a shout. "Heads up, Branch!"
I jerked my head up to see a large orange ball heading toward me. Instantly I sprang into the air, slammed my foot into the ball, and used the momentum to backflip before landing solidly on my feet.
"Thank you, Branch!" called the same troll as he caught the ball I'd kicked to him.
I gave him a cool thumb's-up, then continued walking through the meadow. It took me a minute to remember what had just happened to me, but when I examined my skin, it was the same light gray it had always been, ever since I was a trolling. I curled my hair down in front of me to look at it. As black as ever.
I shrugged. I was in too good of a mood to worry about it now. Oh, well. If my colors ever do come back, it'll be a nice surprise for Poppy.
-O-
"Oh my gosh, Branch! Were you about to get your first hairbloom? And were your colors really coming back?" Poppy asked in an eager rush. Her little feet kicked the air excitedly, tossing the blanket covering us off to the side.
I grinned, enjoying how engaged she was. "I'm not sure. It seemed like it, though."
"Wow! Oh, wow!"
Still lying on her belly, Poppy bounced on the bed hard enough to bounce me, too, and I let out a rich, full laugh. "Ah, Poppy, you're so cute when you're excited."
Caught off guard, the hidden shyness I found so enticing came out. Her cheeks reddened and she smiled bashfully down at the pillow. "Thank you."
As always, I found that little hint of shyness in my usually bold, confident girl unbelievably endearing. An affectionate smile relaxed my face as I sat up and retrieved the blanket, draping it over our legs and running a gentle hand down her back. Poppy sighed happily, resting her head on the pillow and gazing up at me, her eyes shimmering with adoration. Her obvious pleasure swayed me to let my hand linger, gliding over her back in slow, easy strokes.
Until now, touching Poppy like this had only been a dream. A 'someday' fantasy. One I'd flirted with over the years but had never really considered possible, until a small pink troll had made the choice to openly celebrate our life here, without fear. She'd opened up my world, too, and set me free to dream.
I was happy she was enjoying my touch. I was happy to touch her. The silkfleece pajamas made her body feel good under my hand, soft and sleek.
Speaking of fantasies… I couldn't help but wonder how it would compare to stroking her bare skin. My chest tightened and I looked away as the image of myself lovingly unbuttoning her pajamas and running my hands across her bare body tempted me. I closed my eyes, my hand slowing to a stop. Finally free to let the tenderness in my heart spill over, I would lower my head and let my lips flow across her skin like water. I smiled. Or caramel chocolate.
Oh, how I loved her.
I swallowed. It was all the more tempting because I knew she would welcome my attention. There was a part of me that wanted nothing more than to offer her all the love I could give her, to make up for everything I'd ever done to hurt her. To make her feel safe and loved and wanted.
But if I did, I'd be starting something that would be very hard to stop, not without making her feel rejected again. I want to touch her, but without the excuse of bathing, or needing to apply healing salve, I might as well be asking her to make love to me right now. Neither of us is ready for that. Not yet. Poppy's more shy than she wants to admit, and as for me… As much as I want to, I can't risk a repeat of what happened in the bath.
When I opened my eyes, my girlfriend's brows were drawn slightly inward, making me realize she was questioning why I'd stopped moving but wasn't sure she should interrupt my thoughts. In times past, she would have demanded to know what was on my mind right away, her impatient pushiness making me dig down even deeper inside myself. She was changing, too. Maybe not as dramatically as I had, but Poppy was changing.
For me.
A rush of love for her swelled to fill every part of me, my blood singing sweetly in my ears. I was so glad that I could do something about it now, as I said with all my heart, "Oh, Poppy, how I love you." How had those words ever seemed so hard to say?
The slight lines between her eyes disappeared as her expression went from worry to joy. "I love you, too, Branch."
I bent down to kiss her forehead, and as I drew back she leaned up to catch my lips with her own. I moaned, my heart throbbing as I was nearly overcome by the urge to put my hand on the back of her head, entwine my hair with hers and start kissing her everywhere.
Thankfully, Poppy saved me the choice, breaking off our kiss with a loud, satisfied smack. "Now come on, Sugar Lips, stop stalling. Go on with the story! Were your colors coming back or not?"
I chuckled. New sensitivity or not, I was glad to see that the passionate girl I'd fallen in love with hadn't lost her spirit.
"And why didn't you declare your love to me? What happened, Branch?" Her tone shifted from demanding to concerned. "Why didn't you go through with it? Was it something I did?"
At the new worry in her eyes, my own eyes widened, and I waved my hands at her, palms out. "Oh, no-no-no-no-no; it wasn't you. You see…"
-O-
I wanted to think about what had just happened, with all the tingling and thoughts of hairblooms and the possible return of my colors, but I couldn't let anything distract me from my mission. I was going to confess my love to the kindest, prettiest troll in all village. I would give her flowers and chocolate, recite beautiful love poems to her, and even hug her.
I marveled at how much I was looking forward to the idea of holding her close, now that I knew just why I'd enjoyed every Hug Time with her so much these past few weeks. It all made sense now. I was in love! Finally, just like all the other trolls, I had a Special Someone. Sweet, pretty, spirited Poppy was the most wonderful troll in all the village, and I was going to tell her so.
My heart was pounding. This was the biggest risk I'd ever taken in my entire life, but I wasn't scared. I put a hand to my chest, reveling in the warm, swirling feelings rushing around inside me. I was excited! Probably for the first time in my life, I knew what it felt like to be excited without being afraid. I never would have known that if not for Poppy, and I loved her for that.
I'd been in love before, but this wasn't like the last time. The only other time I'd had a serious crush, I'd been confused at first, and too scared to do anything about it until it was too late. I wouldn't make that mistake again. Besides, there was nothing to be afraid of this time around, since I was pretty sure that Poppy already cared for me. She'd had a crush on me, hadn't she? And as far as I knew, she wasn't dating anybody. With no competition, I couldn't lose. Right?
Then I walked into the village and saw a bright new banner hung over the town square. Under a silhouette of two trolls kissing, their hair twirled together with hairbloom sparkles dancing all around them, was the one message that was guaranteed to mess up my perfect plan.
Welcome to the Frolic Festival!
I groaned aloud.
It was mating season.
"Aw, maaan… Oh, that's perfect. Just perfect." I tipped back my head, my palms thrust up to the sky. "How am I going to get her to notice me now?" Every unmarried troll in the village would be trying to get Poppy's attention, I was sure. With all those love-hormones turning everyone's thoughts to melodramatic mush, how would Poppy ever know I was serious? That I wanted more than just a friendly frolic-
I stopped short. Wait a minute. Am I serious?
A cold fist clenched my stomach, and I swallowed hard. My hair crackled with dread. Oh, no. What if I'm not? What if I'm not really in love with her? My whole body tensed up, my forehead knotted so tightly my skull began to hurt. What if all this is just a frofi?
Frofis - temporary Frolic Festival Infatuations - were everywhere during the months of Merrymaking and Dally-dance, when everyone went all lovey-dovey. Decorations with hearts everywhere. Sappy, sentimental tunes spewing from everyone's mouths like barf. Worst of all, everyone became even less rational than usual. Including me.
-O-
When I was little, I used to try to ignore the whole thing. I'd pretend everything was normal, and try to have ordinary conversations with people, but it was impossible to get some trolls to make any sense. They just weren't interested in mundane, serious topics. All anyone wanted to talk about was love and romance, gushing about the trolls they fancied and who should be with whom. "Matchmaking is an art form," they told me.
"Oh, yeah? Then who's the right troll for me?" I would challenge them.
"Well, you're a little young yet, Branchie. When you're older, you should look for a troll who makes you happy."
I crossed my arms and shifted my weight to one hip. "I'm never happy. Everyone knows that."
"Uh, well, maybe you'll mellow as you age…"
"Yeah, right." I scoffed and rolled my eyes. "Why should I be the one to change? What's wrong with being constant and staying true to myself? Shouldn't they love me for who I am? Isn't that what everybody says?"
"Well, yes, but… You see… Well, you know what, you could meet the right troll purely by chance and isn't it so exciting!"
Ugh. Mating season. I would grumble to myself, stomping through a village full of dreamy couples holding hair or hands, making goo-goo eyes at each other. I mean, I get the making-baby-trolls part, but as for the rest of it… Man, what a waste of time! Plus, it's dangerous. Everyone's guards are down. It's the perfect time for the bergens to get us. Well, it's a good thing I'm around to keep watch.
Later on, when I was living with Jaunty and Courtley, my foster dads explained that during Frolic Festival season it was okay to let up a little on the vigilance for once. When we were their captives, the bergens had never interfered with our mating seasons. The news was a little reassuring, even though the reason for it was horrible. Courtley guessed it was because they wanted us to make as many new trollings as possible. When I heard that, I shuddered, knowing what fate even new baby trolls would have had in store for them. As long as they got happy, the bergens didn't care about the ages of the trolls they ate. Trollings could make them just as happy as adult trolls did, if not happier.
Of course, there had been no heartflower berry bushes in the cage the bergens had erected around the troll tree. No way to prevent more trollings from being made unless the adults kept away from one other, but it took years of unwitting captivity before that happened. Eventually, almost no one celebrated Frolic Festival seasons anymore. Too many young ones had gone missing. There were only a handful of us trollings left when we escaped.
Not many trollings were born in the first decade after we escaped, either, despite the fact that most trolls seemed to enthusiastically participate in every Frolic Festival. Even now, thirteen years after we escaped, most families still only had one or two trollings instead of the three or four that used to be typical for a troll family, which told me that even the adults didn't believe the new village was as safe as they claimed it was.
I'd grown up determined to resist the dangerous influence the mating hormones induced. I'd had some success at first, but as I progressed through puberty, even I began to lose the fight. At least during the middle of the month when the mating hormones were at their strongest.
I started noticing how attractive some trolls were. Usually they were the same trolls I liked for other reasons that had nothing to do with physical attraction, like admiring someone's skill at gardening, baking, or calligraphy. I would watch them from afar, longing to make contact but too stubborn to 'just give in and enjoy myself', as everyone told me. But I wouldn't.
Not that anyone ever asked me to frolic with them. My scowling face was a pretty good deterrent.
Unfortunately, even my grumpiest expression couldn't stop what I called my 'hottie' dreams. I woke up with damp underwear more than once. Thankfully, by then I was living with an older teenage boy, Leafe Sage. He was very understanding, especially the first time it happened and I'd panicked, thinking I was sick or something. Leafe had assured me that it was perfectly normal and expected for a young male, but I was still mortified at the loss of control over my bodily functions. Stupid body. Stupid hormones! I should get to choose, not my body!
There were some good things about mating season, though, such as getting to eat heartflower berries. I highly approved of this one area of safety that every troll in the village took seriously. Not only did the berries make it possible to frolic without the worry of accidentally making baby trolls, they were delicious. And there were literally hundreds of tasty heartflower-berry recipes, so we never got tired of eating them.
Everyone looked forward to tasting the sweet berries, with their distinctive pink-lavender-blue coloring. In fact, when a married couple who wanted to have a trolling told friends that they 'weren't going to be eating any heartflower berries this season', they were often gently teased about having to make such a sacrifice.
-O-
These days I took mating season more in stride, now that I had my bunker and could easily avoid the entire issue. In fact, in some ways I even looked forward to the holiday seasons. I felt justified in allowing myself a little downtime then, since trying to work during mating season tended to be frustrating, in both senses of the word. Also, my attention tended to wander at times, which wasn't exactly safe when it came to working with machinery.
So I treated both seasons as scheduled holidays, allowing myself to spend as much time as I wanted working on my hobbies, and taking care of my body's needs as often as necessary to stay comfortable.
Thankfully, I'd never fallen completely under the spell of the mating season hormones, compared to the average troll. Certainly nothing like the sickening levels of sugary sweetness Leafe and Cherry Blossom, or my foster dads had lavished on one another. My seasons usually started later than other trolls', and tended to be shorter. Leafe thought it was probably due to me being gray. I wasn't sure I agreed, but then, I'd never experienced a mating season with my full colors, so there was no way to tell for sure.
I didn't mind. The idea of being influenced by a force beyond my control scared me, even though everyone assured me that they were still in control of their minds. Some trolls said the hormones simply made them less self-conscious. Some told me it wasn't about the hormones at all; they just genuinely looked forward to the merry, love-filled holiday atmosphere. They told me that 'the MerryDally months are the most festive times of the year' and 'ought to be enjoyed with someone special'.
I didn't know how much of that to believe. Besides, even though there were trolls I was attracted to, I wasn't sure I would ever be okay with letting myself get all silly and gushy over someone. I'd probably die from embarrassment!
-O-
So I'm not in love with her after all!
If I was prone to laughter, I'd have burst out laughing at the overwhelming rush of relief that engulfed me as I realized the truth. It's just a frofi! Probably just because Poppy's so pretty now.
My relief was soon engulfed by the heat of embarrassment, the punch of horror and a pulse of disgust at myself. You mean I wasted half a day mooning over some stupid, hormone-driven frofi? And I almost made the biggest mistake of my life! Thank goodness I didn't humiliate myself in front of the entire village! I shuddered. I'd never be able to show my face here again.
I glared up at the banner and growled aloud. I can't believe I forgot about mating season. I'm getting slack. I've been so involved with Poppy – I mean, with my investigation of her secret self - that I didn't even notice the heartflower bushes blooming, or their berries ripening.
I'd been investigating Poppy for nearly a month now, ever since I got her graduation invitation. School closed for the holiday a week before the start of mating season and yes, Poppy had graduated a full week ago, so it was the right time for the holiday season to start.
Hm. I'm early. Usually I didn't get hit by the mating season hormones so soon. Having hottie dreams had always been one of the signs that it was time to retire to my bunker for the rest of the month. I've never been this early, but maybe it happens sometimes. I shrugged. I wouldn't know. Maybe they mentioned that during one of the relationship classes I skipped, I thought carelessly, carefully ignoring the fact that I had started noticing symptoms of infatuation well before the current season started. Sweatiness, pounding heart, euphoria, sleepless nights that didn't seem to have much effect on the bubbly fizz of energy inside me…
My stomach turned uneasily. I didn't want to think about it anymore. Anyway, I've got to get out of here before I run into-
"Good morning, Branch!"
"Ahh!" I leaped back, my feet racing on thin air. I rebounded off of something soft behind me, and whumped onto the ground.
"Sorry, Branch," came Biggie's voice from behind me, which explained what I'd run into. "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," I groaned, rolling over onto my back.
Poppy's gleeful face appeared above me, grinning ear to ear. She might not have been a trolling any more, but she still loved to surprise me. I groaned theatrically as I glared up at her. "Seriously, Poppy?"
"Sorry, Branch. I couldn't resist," Poppy giggled. "You looked like you were lost in your own little world. Something on your mind? Or rather, someone?" she teased me.
Memory slapped me in the face harder than the ground had. Mating season! I've – I've gotta get outta here-
Poppy held out a hand to help me up, and I automatically took it. At her touch, a wash of warmth swept over me. The world went soft and hazy.
…before I…get sucked into the whole…the whole…uh…
I tried to fight it off, but Poppy pulled me to my feet before I could let go. Nose to nose, I got lost in her soft, rose-colored eyes… So deep, I fear if I dive in, I'll never come up for air. And your smile… The sun itself turns jealous and refuses to come from behind the clouds, knowing it cannot shine half as bright…
Her strawberry scent drifted to my nose, and I took a deep breath, savoring it. "Mmm… So sweet…"
Her glitter-freckles sparkled in the sun. Her lips were so close…
"Branch?"
I blinked, and the hazy scene in front of me resolved into a very puzzled Poppy, with Biggie looking down at me over her shoulder. Had I spoken aloud?
"Ahh!" I stumbled backward, almost falling down again as I tripped over my own feet. What was I doing? I'd almost kissed her!
Burning from head to feet, I made a strategic retreat.
-O-
"I remember that," Poppy commented with interest. "You seemed distracted. I wondered if maybe you were meeting somebody at the Festival, but then you freaked out and ran off, so I figured I was wrong. I remember saying to Biggie, 'Of course not. This is Branch we're talking about. He hates anything to do with the Frolic Festival.' And Biggie said, 'Oh, I don't know about that, Princess Poppy. People can surprise you. Our friend Branch has always struck me as quite the unconventional fellow. Something of a rebel, you might say.'"
"I laughed. 'Mister Safety? A rebel?' And of course, it turned out that Biggie was right all along. He told me this afternoon that he'd watched you watching me, and wondered if you might have a crush on me."
"You know, Biggie is a lot more astute than I ever gave him credit for."
-O-
In my panic, I ran the wrong way and found myself in the midst of a love-themed nightmare. I hadn't been to a Frolic Festival in years. No one actually frolicked in public, of course, but it was embarrassing enough to see even the more rational trolls reduced to lovey-dovey bliss.
Frolic Festival activities were grouped into three main areas: Looking, Found, and No, Thanks, which was for those trolls who didn't have much interest in frolicking, such as ace trolls and young trollings. The Found section was mainly for couples, and the object of the game on the Looking side, of course, was to find a Festival partner.
All around me swirled a wild kaleidoscope of impassioned song-and-dance routines, extravagant outfits, extreme hairstyles, and strenuous athletic feats. Trolls flirted playfully with one another as they made jokes, told stories, and played silly, lighthearted kissing games. Glitter and hairblooms were everywhere. Everyone might as well have said, "Look at me!"
Suddenly I was furious. Love, ha! It's a trick! Can't you all see that?
As I stormed through the festivities, I was assaulted on all sides by splashes of color and torrents of music. An ocean of foolish frivolity against whose giddy, chaotic current I struggled, scowling so fiercely that the starry-eyed trolls around me took one look at my surly face and immediately got out of my way. Even so, I caught more than a few looks of pity on people's faces.
Their sympathy made me vaguely realize that I wasn't really angry at them; I was furious with myself. To think that I was stupid enough to believe it was the real thing, only to find out my own hormones were messing with my mind. I knew they affected us more than everyone said they did! I feel like I've been pranked by my own body.
The worst part was how pathetically eager I'd been to let it happen. For once, something good had happened to me; something precious. I'd found love, only to have it taken away. I'd been in such a good mood, looking forward to the best thing that had ever happened to me, and now… It wasn't real! I felt so cheated. Loss, disappointment, humiliation and heartbreak tumbled over one another inside my head, threatening to engulf me.
But there was no way I was going to allow myself to drown in the turbulent roil of hurt feelings. Especially not in front of everyone. You've been pathetic enough for one day. Get a grip, Branch. You shouldn't let this affect you so much. It's just a frofi. So what? You've been through worse, haven't you? It's not like anybody died…this time. I shook my head hard, almost grateful for the chaos all around me that helped me avoid hearing the echo of my grandma's last scream in my head.
"Branch? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"
Blinking back angry tears, I focused on the concerned face of the troll in front of me. I wasn't that good with names, but we only had one purple doctor. "Back off, Plum," I snarled. "Leave me alone."
"But, Branch, you're crying." Her forehead creased with worry as she put a hand on my arm.
I whipped it out of her reach and swiped my hair across my eyes to dry them. "I said back off!"
I dodged around her and started to run. She called after me, but I ignored her. I soon forgot about her, too busy scolding myself for almost breaking down in front of everybody. Come on, Branch. Stop with the melodrama. Gritting my teeth, I channeled my pain into anger, and grimly forged on.
It never even occurred to me that talking to Plum or someone else about my feelings might help me feel better. At that moment, the trolls in front of me were mere obstacles between me and the only solace I could imagine: my home.
-O-
"Oh, gosh, Branch. I feel so bad for you." Poppy shoved aside the blanket and scrambled up on her knees to put her arms around my shoulders. I wrapped my arms around her waist, hugging her close. I would have given anything to get this kind of comfort from her back then.
After a moment of mutual support, she said softly, "You know, sweetie, even after what my dad said about not picking the wrong troll, I'd probably still have said 'yes' if you'd asked. Even if only for the Festival."
I was both surprised and not. Back then, we'd been pretty close. Poppy had let me see a side of her that few other trolls ever saw, and I'd understood even then that that meant there was something special between us. Plus, Poppy had been even more spontaneous than she was now. On some level, I'd sensed that she would have been happy to welcome me as a frolic partner. I was the one who hadn't really been ready. Look how fast I'd run away at the first hint of doubt.
"Even if you believed you didn't actually love me, you still liked me, didn't you, Branch? And you knew I liked you," she said wistfully, her tone soft and husky. "If you were attracted to me at all, you still could have asked me to be your Festival partner, just for fun."
The idea was tempting, but I knew exactly what my younger self would have thought of that. "Yeah, no. I'd have confessed to you in five minutes."
"I thought you wanted to confess to me."
"Not if it wasn't real!"
"What do you mean? It was real, wasn't it? You really were in love with me."
"Yes, but I didn't know that then."
-O-
With Frolic Festivals being such a big deal in Troll Village, it wasn't as if I'd never considered participating in them. Dozens of trolls had expressed their (mostly-uninvited) opinions on frolicking to me over the years, ranging from flippant to concerned.
"It might help you loosen up for a change, dude."
"You're missing out on all the fun."
"You know, no one will want to be with you if you keep acting so grumpy. Come on, try to smile. No, a smile. Oh…you were smiling? Um… Well, that was a good try. Keep working on it. Bye!"
"It's a nice way to make a new friend. Maybe even more than a friend."
"You're making too big of a deal out of it. Just invite someone to the Festival. It doesn't have to be a permanent partnering, for hair's sake!"
"Why are you so determined to shut everyone out? Don't you realize that hurts us, too?"
"Frolicking is good for you. It's fun, and healthy, too. It's also a terrific way to de-stress," Leafe counseled me. "I always feel more relaxed afterward. I sleep better, too. It's great exercise."
"There's a troll out there for you, Branchkin," Laurel's mother Savvy used to tell me. "I'm positive there is. But you'll never know if you don't look."
King Peppy even said to me once, "Some of the trolls your age are starting to pair off. If you don't make an effort, I'm worried that you'll end up all alone, Branch. Is that what you want?"
For most of these comments, I had no answer other than a scowl or a sarcastic remark. (Except the one where the troll had asked me to smile. I'd really tried. It hadn't helped my self-image when my 'smile' scared him off.)
If it's really no big deal, the worst she can say is 'no', right? So why don't I ask her?
-O-
I worked it out aloud as I explained to Poppy, "I guess I thought… 'If there's no love, it wouldn't feel real. And if it's not real, then what's the point?'"
Unlike most trolls, I never wasted my energy on frivolity, not then. "Having fun for the sake of having fun just seemed so…wrong. I didn't know why, not then. Now, I think that besides not feeling real, at least part of it was related to anxiety."
"Oh." Now she understood. Her body seemed to mold against me, her sympathy blending with the air around us.
Still hugging her, I nodded, enjoying the feel of my cheek rubbing pleasantly against her soft-furred body. "Remember when I was a trolling, how all the games I invented revolved around my driving need for safety and security?"
"Yes, and that makes sense. From what I know now, it's hard to enjoy yourself when some part of you is insisting that there's danger," Poppy agreed. "Although I remember there were times when you did let loose and play with the rest of us. Like, when you and Acorn were friends. Or when you lived with Jaunty and Courtley."
"They loved me," I pointed out, "and I loved them. When they made me feel understood and appreciated for who I was, I did feel secure. Connected. I could enjoy playing with the other trolls, even when nothing constructive came out of it. Even when there was no point. In fact, if my foster dads hadn't chosen to keep such a vital secret from me, about the bergen lurking in the forest, I think I might have gotten over at least some of my anxiety. Instead, their betrayal broke me even more. If I couldn't trust the trolls who loved me, who could I trust?"
"Aw, Branch. I'm so sorry…"
My girlfriend began to caress my hair. Her hands were gentle and loving, and I let myself relax against her soft body, gratefully accepting her support. She began to hum softly. I recognized my own tune, which she had adorably dubbed 'our song'.
I joined my voice to hers, humming in harmony and basking blissfully in her love. You truly are perfect for me, my love.
Ever the optimist, by the time we finished the song, Poppy's next words showed that she was already putting the bad vibes behind her. "Oh, Branch, I still can't believe your colors almost came back." She let go of me and sat back on her feet to make eye contact. "Can you imagine everyone's reactions? They'd have been so excited! Everyone would have wanted to make friends with you!"
"And I'd have been horrified," I replied with a grin. Knowing it was the truth, Poppy gave that funny little snerk I loved. "The others wouldn't have known what to make of me, either. As you know, colorful or not, I'm still Branch. Actually," I added thoughtfully, "even if my colors had returned back then, I'm not sure it would have been permanent."
"What do you mean, not permanent?"
"Well, remember, I hadn't told anybody about my grandma. We hadn't even made peace with the bergens yet. There was still a lot of stuff I needed to process." I gave her a look of pure gratitude. "It was thanks to you that I was able to fully recover. You are my eternal inspiration, my beautiful queen," I murmured amorously, bowing my head to her.
As I'd been hoping, my girlfriend blushed a rosy pink as a lovestruck grin lit up her face. Her glitter freckles sparkled brightly in the darkness. I chuckled in amusement, although in truth, as much as I loved to flirt with her, I was actually pretty serious. Poppy, you literally changed my life, and I will never be able to thank you enough. But I'll spend the rest of my life trying.
Poppy gave a giddy laugh of her own. "You're very welcome, lover boy." Her long-lashed eyes fluttered flirtatiously at me. "But it wasn't all me, Branch. You deserve half the credit. When you sang 'True Colors' to me that first time, not only did you give me hope, you made me feel loved, in spite of all the mistakes I'd made. You brought back everyone else's colors, too. And Branch, your song helped a bergen love us. Do you realize that? Bridget loved us so much that she was willing to betray her own people's happiness. Enough to risk her own life to save us. You say I inspire you, but you inspire me, too. You inspire everyone."
I hadn't expected that. Now it was my turn to blush. "Thanks."
Didn't Cheery say something like that earlier today? Maybe I had more of a positive impact on the village than I thought. It gave me hope that if I worked hard, Poppy's bright dream of our future together might be reality someday. I grinned to myself. Then it's a good thing I'm used to hard work. All those years of discipline and self-isolation were good for something after all…
-O-
My ears drooped and my feet dragged as I trudged from the lift down the hall to my bedroom. What a waste of a day. And what a letdown.
I remembered how good I'd felt as I left my bunker, off to confess my love to my beautiful princess. How light my heart had been; its golden door wide open and free. The world had been a wonderful place full of love, warmth, and kindness. The air itself had seemed magical; full of promise. No wonder trolls acted so giddy during frolic season.
Only to discover it was all a trick. A frofi. A temporary infatuation brought on by a surge of hormones in my body that I had no control over. No control at all, other than to refuse to participate. I had been ready to confess to Poppy when I thought it was my own idea, but I refused to have the choice forced on me by some random frofi fancy.
Now my guard was back up, and the door to my heart was sealed, barred, and padlocked. My heart was as heavy as iron. My feet were heavy too, so heavy I'd stumbled twice, tripping over familiar tree-root ridges in the floor. My mind was dull and dispirited, shrinking inward. What a fool I've been. Oh, I just want to crawl into bed and sleep until I forget this whole mess ever happened.
As I shuffled into my bedroom, I saw my open journal still on my bed where I'd left it. I picked it up, absently intending to put it back on the shelf where it belonged, but a flash of familiar bright pink caught my eye. Despite myself, I felt some of the numbness lift.
There was Poppy, wearing a cute lemon-yellow sundress and waving at me, a big, happy grin on her face. My heart quivered, and warmed a little as I gave her a fond look. She'd worn that dress a lot, back when we used to have picnics together; just the two of us. When she headed for home, she would stop at the top of the highest ridge and turn to wave at me before disappearing over the hill. I hadn't even noticed when I'd gotten into the habit of waving back.
Now I slowly raised my hand, waving to the little figure. A wan smile crossed my face. Poppy was always glad to see me. She was still my friend. She always would be.
Funny how even the sight of her made me feel better. I sighed wistfully, recalling how I'd spent this morning contentedly doodling, filling the pages with bright, happy colors. I'd really enjoyed myself. I didn't have many opportunities to be creative these days. I'm not a bad artist, either, especially with such a cute subject.
I don't know how long I spent gazing admiringly at her image before I realized I'd gotten mesmerized again. I turned the page and lost myself again, this time in earnest, soulful words. My love poem. I'd been so proud of it.
I recalled how effortlessly those words had come to my mind, inspired by Poppy's pretty face. Just as more words had come the moment I saw her today; a stream of sensitive, heartfelt words about her eyes, and her smile. Her sunshine smile. No, wait, um… Something about the sun being jealous of her smile? How did it go again?
My wandering thoughts were interrupted by my stomach growling. I gave my head a shake and closed the book with a sharp clap, walking over to place it in its proper place in the book nook. Sentimental slush, I told myself as I resolutely turned away.
A vague idea about making dinner crossing my mind, but something made me hesitate. A feeling that I'd left something unfinished. You know…That new poem. It's not a bad poem, really. In fact… I turned around and eyed my journal, feeling a smile tug at the corners of my mouth. Maybe I should write it down. It's gonna bug me for the rest of the day if I don't. Besides, I might have a use for it, someday. It would be a waste of a good poem if I didn't write it down.
I've never been one to waste anything useful. Of course, my time was valuable, too…
But it's mating season, I reminded myself. I'm officially on vacation. I can spend my time any way I want, no matter how wasteful. I'd like to get back into art this month, I think… Poetry, drawing, maybe even painting. There's nothing wrong with being creative. I thought about the picture I'd drawn of Poppy in her sundress, and this time I did smile. If you have the right inspiration.
Temptation beckoned. I took a step back toward my books, hesitated once more, then gave in. Oh, all right. Today's a lost cause anyway. I know it's not real, but I can afford to indulge myself, just for tonight. It may be a silly fantasy, but it's a harmless one, as long as no one ever knows.
I pulled out the book and picked up my pen and my set of colored pencils. Then I headed to the kitchen to make dinner, and to indulge my flight of fancy. Because that's all this is – a pleasant fantasy; nothing more, I told myself firmly. A frofi. It's not real. And if your feelings aren't real, then you don't need to worry about them. They'll go away on their own.
I spent the rest of the evening contentedly immersed in adoration for the (temporary) girl of my dreams. When I finally went to bed, I dreamed of dancing with a certain pretty pink troll. I held her close, feeling our heartbeats merge. She smiled up at me and pursed her lips, asking for a kiss. I woke to find I'd been kissing my pillow.
As memory returned,I squirmed at the fuss I'd made the day before. It seems like a dream. Maybe it was?
It was a tempting thought, but the journal on the bed beside me had concrete evidence that it hadn't been a dream. It embarrassed me to think of how easily I'd fallen under the spell of the mating hormones. I'd actually thought I had a crush. Me. Branch, the gray outsider. And on the princess, of all people! I suppose it makes sense, though. Poppy is the only troll who goes out of her way to be nice to me. And I really did think for a while there that she had a crush on me.
A wistful thought slipped from the recesses of my brain. Oh, Poppy. I wish you were here with me. Maybe I should have asked her to be my Festival partner.
Like so many times in the past after refusing an opportunity to be social, I regretted it. Despite what the other trolls thought, I didn't really want to miss out on all the fun, or the friendships. Grump or not, I was still a troll. A very lonely troll. If things had been different, maybe Poppy and I would be here together right now. If only I'd asked her. If only…
Maybe I could go back. Maybe Poppy hasn't found a partner yet.
It's too late, the cynical side of myself asserted firmly. There's no way she hasn't found one by now. You had your chance, and you blew it. Besides, you don't even know if you really want a partner. This is all just a frofi, remember?
A surge of disgust snapped me out of my melancholy. "Arrgh, stupid frofi!" I complained aloud. "I know it's normal to have them, but it's just so disconcerting to have thoughts of another troll take over your mind like this. I don't know how the other trolls stand it."
I felt an unexpected pang of empathy for my fellow trolls. Maybe that's why they're all so good at going with the flow. They kind of have to be, to keep from going crazy.
I stood straight and proud. "Well, not me. They can deal with it their way; I'll deal with it my own way."
Author's Note:
A big thanks to Wildkat25 for her patient help in organizing like 20 different plot segments into a coherent order! It really does help to have an outside perspective sometimes 😊
I've been pronouncing 'frofi' to rhyme with 'snow fee'.
