-O-

Picturebook Romance

A Trolls fanfic

By Dreamsinger

Chapter Sixty-Four

Memory Lane 2:

Branch and Acorn

When I got home, Leafe and Cherry Blossom were both there, playing a board game. I explained what had happened to Cardigan Twill, and they were shocked and dismayed to hear of the tragedy. Then I told them about the trolling I was carrying in my hair. "..and then King Peppy asked me to take care of him. Me. Branchkin. Isn't that crazy?" I complained. "I don't know anything about taking care of trollings."

As I looked at them, a brilliant idea hit me. "Hey, why don't you two do it? You're teachers. You know how to take care of trollings way better than I do."

My friends looked at one another. Some kind of message passed between them, and then Leafe turned back to me. "We'll be glad to help you in any way we can, Branchkin, but King Peppy chose you to be Acorn's guardian, right?"

"Well, yeah, but that's probably because he forgot you guys were already over the flu."

Cherry Blossom shook her fluffy, flower-shaped hair and said with a smile, "Not at all. Remember, King Peppy knows you, Branchkin. He decided that you were the best troll for the job."

I frowned. "Seriously?"

Leafe nodded in agreement. "Of course. You're smart and capable, and highly responsible. If you were one of my students I could easily see choosing you as a team leader."

I gaped at him in disbelief. "What are you talking about? Me, a leader? But…I'm lame. I couldn't even take care of a pod, let alone a trolling. And anyway, trollings don't like me. I'm the village grump, remember?"

After two years as roommates, Leafe knew just how to counter my arguments. Instead of trying to reassure me, he pointed out the facts. "Well, Acorn obviously likes you."

"He does?"

"He asked you to carry him, didn't he?" Cherry Blossom replied gently. "So he must feel close to you."

"Well…" I recalled how flattered I'd been to be asked. Trollings were usually carried in the hair of a family member or a trusted caretaker, so did that mean he thought of me like that? Like family?

Why? Just because the king made me his guardian? Then something else occurred to me. Or is it because I was the one who found him like that, all alone with his – his father's… Mentally turning away from the disturbing sight, I recalled the feeling of Acorn clinging to me, sobbing his little heart out. Even though I disliked hugs, in the face of such pain I'd instinctively held him close, trying to give him what comfort I could. Maybe that counted as some of that "bonding" stuff Poppy was always talking about?

"He's probably feeling alone and scared right now. He needs to be with someone who will make him feel safe." Leafe gave me an encouraging grin. "Who better than you?"

I looked back and forth between them, recognizing the truth of that. I also recognized that they weren't going to let me out of the responsibility I'd agreed to take on. Finally I let out my breath in a long, drawn-out sigh. "Okay, fine. But if this turns out to be a disaster, don't say I didn't warn you."

Before I went off to bathe, I decided to ask my friends for advice about caring for trollings.

"You could try teaching Acorn some of the specialized knowledge you've developed over the past few years," Cherry Blossom suggested. "Things that aren't commonly taught in pod school."

"Great idea!" Leafe agreed heartily. "And then Acorn can teach others. All knowledge should be shared, so that it will never be lost."

I rolled my eyes. Teachers will be teachers.

But then Leafe went on, "Also, keeping his mind occupied might help him deal with things." His teal-blue eyes met mine. "It helped you during your recovery, didn't it?"

I opened my mouth, then closed it. He's got me there.

-O-

After the devastating Incident where I'd nearly died two years ago, King Peppy had done basically the same thing to Leafe as he had to me – saddled him with a troubled trolling who'd suffered a devastating loss. But unlike me, Leafe hadn't seemed to mind his situation. At sixteen, the blue-haired intellectual had graduated from pod school but not yet chosen an avocation, so he'd had the time to fully devote himself to caring for the injured boy placed in his care.

Even so, as a typical, happy young troll, it hadn't been easy for him to deal with someone like me. Someone whose spirit had been damaged as badly as his body, if not worse. I'd basically shut down, withdrawing deep into myself. Feeling hopeless, and worthless.

But unlike many of my foster parents, Leafe hadn't given up trying to connect with me. When he learned that I was worried about falling behind in my classwork, he had volunteered to tutor me. We'd discovered a shared interest in learning, and over the course of several months, we'd gradually become friends. It also helped that he shared my love of puns.

As I showered, I decided it couldn't hurt to follow Leafe's example. Based on our earlier conversation about his mother, Acorn had really seemed to like learning, too. I guess I could teach him some basic engineering skills, and the related safety practices I've developed. It made me feel better to have a plan.

-O-

I would discover, though, that Acorn would only learn what he wanted to learn, and then only if I made it interesting.

But that first day, the poor little trolling really wasn't up to any sort of mental challenges. Mostly he just wanted to hold my hand and wander around the village, as if he were looking for something he'd lost. I knew very well what – or rather who – it was, so I indulged him.

It was safe enough. Not many trolls were around. Half the village was still sick, and the other half was either tending to the blindfolded Ticklers, as they were called, or obeying King Peppy's request to stay home to prevent the flu's spread.

It felt a little strange to walk around the mostly-deserted village with this quiet little companion. To have to adjust my long stride to match the length of his little legs. Even the feeling of having his little hand in mine. I hadn't held anybody's hand since…since I'd stopped hanging out with Poppy.

I didn't see Poppy much these days. I'd started avoiding her after she kept pestering me about stuff I didn't want to talk about, like my former foster dads. Asking why I was living with Leafe instead of moving back "home." She didn't understand that that pod wasn't my home anymore. Jaunty and Courtley weren't my parents. They had a new trolling of their own now. Leafe had mentioned that one day, and of course I'd gotten upset and stormed out of our pod. Smart as my roommate was, he'd taken the hint and never brought up the subject again. Unfortunately, Poppy was more persistent, so I got a lot of practice these days in non-hair-based camouflaging skills, and quick escapes.

Even so, I missed her. I missed having her perky presence at my side. Acorn wasn't perky in the least, but as the days passed, I discovered that in some ways, he was an even better companion than Poppy. He understood me in ways that she couldn't.

-O-

That first night I gave Acorn my bed, deciding to sleep on the soft hair-floor near him. I'd expected there to be nightmares, and there were – my own. About seeing Cardigan dead, about Grandma, screaming for help as the monstrous hand pulled her up into the sky and out of my life forever, and even about the heavy, sinking feeling of your colors draining away…

Every time I jolted awake, I checked on the small trolling. His eyes were closed, and he lay without moving, yet I sensed the tension in him. He didn't respond when I whispered his name, though.

Poor little guy, I thought as I lay back down. This was the first time I'd met someone who was even worse off than me. At least I'd been spared the sight of Grandma's-

Stop it! I shook my head hard to try to block out that image before it could swamp me. Even now, some days my secret guilt over what I'd done to cause her death hung over me like a black cloud, waiting to descend. I knew it always would be.

In a way, Acorn was lucky. He knew that his father had most likely died instantly, without suffering. Unlike my own parents and my sweet grandma, who had met their terrible fates at the claws of the monsters we'd fled…

Restless and uneasy, I gave up on trying to sleep as soon as the sky began to lighten. As I shuffled groggily to the kitchen for some coffee, I decided to prepare something bland for breakfast, just in case Acorn's stomach was still bothering him. He'll probably wake up very hungry, though. He didn't eat anything at all yesterday. Nothing but some chamomile tea the doctors sent over to help him sleep. It did seem to help, but I wish one of them could come see him. Stupid quarantine protocols. No, stupid Tickle Flu. Stupid world! I thought grumpily. Life is hard enough without adding illness on top of it!

Maybe the smell of food woke him, because it wasn't long before the little trolling joined me. At the sight of him, I frowned involuntarily. In the morning light, his grayscale appearance brought on a disturbing sense of recognition. It really was like looking in a mirror; like time was repeating itself. Light gray skin, dark gray hair, and eyes as colorless as mine used to be in the early days, right after my grandma was taken from me. It had taken over a year before a hint of color had returned to the face in the mirror, and even now my blue eyes were apt to go colorless on bad days.

As his little face looked up at me, I noticed the corners of his mouth were turned down. Then I realized that I was still frowning at him. Feeling awkward now, I cleared my throat and turned back to the stove.

What should I say to him? I thought as I used a spatula to flip several small pancakes onto a plate. Should I apologize and explain that I hadn't been frowning because I was angry at him, but just because he reminds me of- oh, forget it. It's too complicated. He won't understand.

I peeked at the gray trolling out of the corner of my eye. He was still there. Silently waiting, and looking so very unhappy. What should I do? Should I try to cheer him up? Part of me was tempted to call for Leafe, but he was still asleep. I even considered acting all chipper and energetic, like many of my overenthusiastic foster parents had, but that just didn't feel right. His father just died, for hair's sake. He has the right to be unhappy. Life is sad sometimes.

He was still waiting. I tried to push aside my uneasiness. If I was his guardian, that meant it was up to me to start the day.

"Good morning, Acorn," I said automatically, then winced. Of course it wasn't a good morning. "Sorry. Uh, the food's just about done. Why don't you have a seat?" I set the plate I was holding on the table and gestured to him to sit down. He did, but did not pick up his fork.

I noticed dark gray shadows under his eyes. "Are you okay? How did you sleep?"

After a long pause, he finally spoke. "Not so good."

His negative answer made me pause. I think on some level I still expected him to be like Poppy and bounce back after a good night's sleep. I guess not everyone can get back up again like she can. I wondered what it would take for Poppy to lose her colors.

Finally I said awkwardly, "I'm sorry to hear that." I pointed to my head. "Um, if you get sleepy later, my hair's always available if you want to take a nap later on."

He nodded tiredly, but said nothing more.

I stood there lamely, wondering what else I was supposed to say. Was this the way most of my foster parents had felt, faced with a trolling that just wouldn't cheer up? What had people said to me in situations like this?

"You seem pretty down. Do you want to talk about it?"

Thankfully, that was the right choice. Acorn let out a sigh that seemed too big for his little body. "Well, I keep thinkin', if only I'd been there, maybe I coulda saved him."

A shadow seemed to darken the pod. "…Oh." I remembered many, many sleepless nights myself, and for exactly the same reason. I felt my face soften with a look of genuine empathy.

It seemed to help, as the boy hesitated, then confessed, "I did something bad, Branch."

I blinked. "You did?"

"Yes." Looking miserable, Acorn pushed his uneaten stack of pancakes away. He took a couple of deep breaths and put a hand over his middle, as if he was feeling sick to his stomach. Alarmed, I couldn't help but glance at the small trash bin in the corner. I wondered if I ought to grab it, or just pick up the trolling and hold him over it if he started to barf. I didn't want to have to clean that up if I didn't have to.

Finally, he confessed in a low tone, "Yesterday, Mommy told me I had to find Daddy and stay with him until she was better. But I didn't listen. I… I stopped to play a game of tag with my friends first." He swallowed hard.

Trying to act casual, I edged over toward the bin.

Thankfully, Acorn kept control over his stomach. "I shoulda gone straight there, Branch. I coulda warned him about the web so he wouldn't get stuck. Or helped him get free. Or caught him when he fell." His voice was all raspy, the way Poppy's got when she was upset. "I coulda done something, Branch!"

Shock froze my feet to the floor. My head rang with eerily similar echoes. If only I hadn't been singing out in the open. If only I'd heard that bergen coming. If only I'd gone after it when it grabbed her, maybe I could have rescued her before it took her away…

I knew on some level that I ought to reassure the boy, but I couldn't. Because he wasn't wrong. Maybe he could have saved his father. Or maybe his father might have made safer choices if his son had been there. I'd noticed that parents generally cared more about safety when their trollings were involved. After all, my grandma's last act had been to push me out of harm's way, sacrificing her own life to save mine. Grief and guilt loomed. If I hadn't been there, showing off, she probably wouldn't have been caught. It was my fault. She's dead because of me. Oh, Grandma…

The dark shroud of melancholy hovered over me, then descended. Exhausted from my own long, sleepless night, I couldn't fight it off. It sank down into me, blanketing me in familiar gloom. I knew if I looked in a mirror, my eyes would be just as colorless as Acorn's.

Finally I let out a slow, burdened breath and lifted my gaze from the floor. "I know I probably ought to tell you that you shouldn't feel bad. That while sometimes bad things happen, you should try to be happy anyway. But the truth is, I always hated it when people said that to me. You see, I feel the same way about my grandma," I admitted, unconsciously putting my hand over my heart.

His eyes widened. "You do?"

"Yeah. Like if only I'd done something differently, she might still be alive today."

"Yes," he agreed, looking both forlorn and glad. "That's how I feel, too."

We shared a look of complete understanding; sad, yet oddly gratifying. For the first time since I'd lived with Jaunty and Courtley, someone understood my pain. I hadn't felt this close to anyone since the days my foster dads used to talk about the terrible time when they were captives of the bergens. It was rare for any troll to admit to being even a little bit unhappy.

There were differences, though. Unlike me, Acorn hadn't directly done anything to cause his father's death. It wasn't fair for him to have to suffer because of his father's typical trolly neglect of what should have been basic safety practices. No helmet, no net, all alone in the forest with no partner who could have helped him. What was the man thinking?

I knew what he'd been thinking. He'd been thinking that nothing bad would happen; at least, nothing he couldn't handle. But it had. A completely preventable accident caused by the same infuriatingly blithe positivity that had cost me my grandma. At least I'd learned my lesson. When would everyone else?

Maybe I could reassure the little trolling and pass on the lesson I'd learned so painfully to someone who might actually be in the right mental headspace to accept it. "It's good that you're thinking about what went wrong, Acorn. We can't change the past, but we can learn from it. We can figure out ways to prepare ourselves, to keep bad stuff like this from happening in the future."

Acorn nodded. "Yeah," he whispered. "You're right." He hung his head. I knew he was still wishing he had obeyed his mother and gone straight to his father without stopping to play first.

The woebegone look on his little face made me wince. Stupid! I scolded myself. You said the wrong thing. Now he feels even worse!

I shuffled my feet awkwardly, resisting the urge to pace. What could I say to comfort him? I thought back to the dark days after I lost my grandma. What did I wish someone had said to me, had they known the real circumstances of how she died?

"Acorn, I know you're sad, but it really wasn't your fault, you know. And…your dad wouldn't want you to blame yourself. He'd want you to forgive yourself, and live a happy life. To…" Suddenly I could hear my grandma's warm, loving laugh, and wished with all my heart that I could hear it one more time. "To celebrate the…time you had together," I pushed out brokenly, hoping Acorn would think my voice was cracking because of puberty. "To remember her with love, not guilt."

My little Peach Fuzz…

My breath hitched, and I let out a shaky breath that was more of a sob. "You - you have to keep telling yourself, it wasn't your fault. It - it was an accident. You didn't mean to do anything wrong…"

Acorn looked at me with understanding beyond his years. "…Yeah." Then his eyes crinkled. "Are you okay?"

I became aware of the tear trickling down my cheek. As I blinked in confusion, Acorn's face softened. He got up and came over to me. "It's okay," he said, reaching up to wipe the tear from my wet cheek.

At that tender touch, I came undone. More tears poured down my cheeks and I buried my face in my hands and let out a long, trembling whimper. Another came, and another, no matter how I tried to stop them.

Little arms wrapped around me, and a little head pressed against my body, his tuft of fluffy hair tickling my chin. I put my arms around him and let myself cry. Acorn cried, too. We were two lost, lonely trollings, and we grieved together.

It wasn't the first time I'd cried in front of someone, but this felt different somehow. Someone finally understood my pain, and shared it. This wasn't a cry for help, or a wail of despair. These tears were…healing

Afterward, my eyes were sore, my head felt all stuffed up, and I was exhausted. But surprisingly, I also felt better somehow. Like some kind of inner tension was gone.

Acorn seemed calmer, too. He let me wash his face, and even tried to take a bite of pancake for me, but said he couldn't swallow it.

That's not good. He needs to eat, if only a little bit.

I was worried enough to try another tactic that Jaunty had used on me as a trolling. "Gee, it's too bad you're not hungry, because I was just about to make one of my famous vanilla-trollberry smoothies." I lowered my voice, whispering, "It's my own super-secret recipe."

He perked up a little. "Secret recipe? What's in it?"

"Well, if I showed you, it wouldn't be a secret, now would it?"

"Oh." His ears drooped a little.

I winked at him. "Buuut since you really like to mix things, mayyybe I'll make an exception just this once."

What do you know, it worked. I walked him through my complicated recipe, which called for nearly a dozen different ingredients, then did the whole, "Mmm, this tastes so yummy! Are you sure you don't want to try it?" routine.

"Well…maybe just a sip," he said after a moment.

He ended up drinking half a glassful before he said he was full. I was so relieved that as I finished the rest, I took another page from Jaunty's scrapbook and dunked the end of my nose in the glass, pretending to be clumsy. I caught a hint of a smile on his face; a quick upward quirk of his lips, and silently thanked my foster dad for the help.

Never thought I'd be doing this myself one day. Yet it made me feel strangely good to know that my unfortunate experience was helping someone else.

-O-

That wasn't the only time I relied on my foster parents' example. Acorn spent the morning clinging to me and acting unusually cranky for a troll. Nothing kept his attention for long. He wasn't interested in studying, or being read to. I tried puzzles, scrapbooking, fingerpainting. Leafe and Cherry Blossom tried to entertain him, too, but eventually when he'd knocked over the third glass of rinse water, I decided he was doing it deliberately. I knew all too well how tempting it was to act out when you weren't feeling well.

I think my friends knew it, too, but none of us wanted to scold him. Then I recalled the way my foster dads had used exercise to help me work off bad feelings, so I took him outside for a while. It helped. He got caught up in our game of kickball and for a while seemed to forget the tragedy looming over him. Eventually I saw him yawning and called a halt to our game.

"Hey, little one, you look all tuckered out." I pointed at my hair. "How about a nap?"

He was so exhausted he was swaying, but after just a few moments in my hair he jumped out again. "I can't sleep. It's dark in there."

"Um, isn't it supposed to be?"

"But I can't see you if it's dark."

"Oh. I see." He's afraid to be alone. I know how that feels. I was about to suggest we head back inside when I noticed the perfect solution. "If you don't want to sleep in the dark, how about you try that?" I pointed toward a hammock that was hanging below a nearby tree. "Leafe uses it when he wants to read outside. It's shady there, but not too dark. It would make a nice spot for a nap."

To my surprise, he gave the hammock an uneasy look and took a step back.

"What's wrong?"

"I'm scared."

"Scared of a hammock?" I glanced at it and raised an eyebrow. The peach-colored length of cloth was decorated with whimsical happy-faces in a rainbow of colors.

"No." He hesitated, then confessed, "…I'm scared of bad dreams."

"Oh." I tried to make my voice gentle. "Did you have bad dreams last night, Acorn?"

He nodded miserably.

"I get it. I have bad dreams too sometimes."

His eyes widened. "You do?"

I nodded.

"How do you stop 'em?"

"Well…" I was about to say "You can't," when a memory came back to me. I'd gone through an especially bad time during the last Trollstice I'd spent at Jaunty and Courtley's pod. So bad that I'd allowed myself to admit I needed help, and asked to sleep in my dads' bed with them. I still had fond memories of that night, feeling warm and safe and loved between the two trolls I'd cared about more than anyone in the world.

Not that I expected Acorn to love me, but if just physically being there would help him, I could do that. "Well, to be honest, I didn't sleep so well last night, either. How would you feel if I took a nap with you? That way, even with your eyes closed, you could feel me right there next to you. Do you want to give it a try?"

He looked at me uncertainly, but nodded. "Okay, Branch. I'll try."

I nodded, then jumped into the air, did a forward flip, and dropped neatly down into the hammock. It bounced and swayed under me. Acorn followed. I caught him in mid-air and held him above me, considering my next move. Unlike my foster dads' bed, it was hard to lay side-by-side on a hammock. "Let me see… Ooof!"

While I was debating, Acorn had settled the matter by wiggling free and dropping on my stomach. I started coughing, trying to replace the air he'd squished out of me. "Sorry, Branch," he said as he crawled around, his little elbows and knees poking my side. Finally he just sort of draped himself in the valley where my body met the side of the hammock, his head resting against my shoulder.

As he cuddled against me, his little hand came up to grasp the strap of my overalls. I looked down at him, a little disconcerted. I'd never been to a sleepover, so I wasn't used to having someone even lying near me, let alone on me. It felt like a hug, sort of, only longways. Normally I hated hugs, but if it helped him get the rest he needed… Eh, I suppose I can put up with it. At least until he's asleep.

"Will you sing me a lullaby, Branch?"

I stiffened, and of course he felt it. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's just, uh, I don't sing."

"You don't? Why not?"

I gave my standard answer. "I just don't like to sing."

"Oh."

He was quiet, and I felt bad. "Sorry, little one. I would if I could, but- Hey, I know."

I reached out my hair to lightly push against the sturdy branch above us, rocking us gently from side to side. "How's this? Nice, huh?"

Acorn yawned and relaxed against me again. "Uh-huh."

It took a surprisingly short time for Acorn to fall asleep. I kept up the rocking for a while, not wanting to disturb his long-overdue slumber. All tuckered out, poor little guy.

Because of the quarantine it was unusually quiet in the village. After my own bad night I nearly fell asleep myself, but as I relaxed, my mind began to wander back. I can't believe I cried like that in front of Acorn. After all, it was his father who died, not mine. I don't even have parents. I haven't had parents in a long time. Purple hair and pink glitter rose up in my mind's eye, but I pushed the image away. You're fourteen, Branch. You're almost an adult. You don't need parents anymore, I reminded myself.

I ought to have been embarrassed, but oddly enough, I didn't feel bad. Maybe it was just that Acorn had seemed to understand me, just like my foster dads used to. I hadn't even worried that he was judging me. Somehow I'd felt like it was okay to show how lonely I was.

My own thought startled me. Lonely? I'm not lonely. I live with a great guy. He and I hang out all the time. We… Um.

That was when I realized that until the Tickle Flu had closed down the school, I hadn't seen much of Leafe lately. I hadn't realized until just then how much I missed him. The banana-yellow troll was a good friend who had been more than patient with me during my recovery. He'd even put off choosing an apprenticeship in order to tutor me so I wouldn't fall behind in school.

After I went back, Leafe had begun to make changes. First, he'd chosen to apprentice as a teacher. Then he'd met Cherry Blossom, and soon the two of them were dating. She had also become a friend, although it had taken a while for me to accept her. I still wasn't as close to her as I was to my roommate.

-O-

"That was my fault," I admitted to Poppy.

"What do you mean, your fault?"

"I resented having her around, at least at the beginning. I think I missed having Leafe's full attention. I didn't really think about the fact that I had two trolls looking out for me then, instead of just one. But then later, they got married and Leafe moved away…"

I shook my head, resisting lost, empty feeling those memories brought. "Sorry. I'm supposed to be talking about Acorn."

"You can talk about anything you want, Branch," Poppy assured me, squeezing my hand. "Relationships are complicated. Besides, the reason Hearty became Acorn's stepfather was because he's Leafe's brother, right? Acorn bonded with him while he was staying at Leafe's pod."

"Yes, Hearty started spending a lot of time with Acorn, and got to know his mother, Tulip. I'm sure he was a great comfort to them after I stopped seeing- Well, you know."

Poppy nodded. She understood.

-O-

New girlfriend, new job. Leafe has a lot on his plate now. He doesn't need to hear me whine about how he doesn't play with me anymore. I needed to do my best to be as supportive of him as he'd been of me. He trusted me to do my homework and my share of the household chores without being reminded. The work was no problem for me, of course. In fact, I often found myself looking after him, as he could be absent-minded about things like eating properly when he got deeply involved in a project. I didn't really mind, though. As I'd discovered back when I took care of Jaunty when he was sick, I liked feeling needed. It made me feel like an equal. Like an adult. It was almost as good as having my own pod again.

With the warm little body snuggled against me, lightly snoring, I mused about my life. I realized that I was lonely a lot these days. Leafe and Cherry Blossom were both teachers now, taking care of dozens of students. I hadn't played with Poppy since the day I'd cut off our friendship two years ago. All she'd wanted to do was make me reconcile with my foster dads, which I couldn't bear. So now I only spoke to her in passing, when I couldn't avoid her altogether. She didn't like that, but she was too busy to do much about it. Her responsibilities had increased as she'd gotten older, too.

I didn't even get to see Laurel as much, since she'd graduated from pod school two years ago. She'd completed her apprenticeship with her parents recently and had immediately thrown herself into construction projects and repairing stuff around the village.

I'd been left behind. Pod school is a bore. Nothing on the horizon for the future. No wonder I feel lonely.

But now… Now I had something to do. Now I had someone who needed me. Someone who, to my surprise, seemed to like me a lot. Better yet, he seemed to understand me in a way none of the other trolls did.

I looked down at the small trolling sleeping soundly on my chest and felt something settle inside me. Oh, well. It's not like I don't have the time. I can afford to be a friend to Acorn until he goes back to live with his mom.

Gradually, without my realizing it, my normal background urge to get up and do something began to subside. Acorn slept and I waited patiently, watching various critters and bugs pass by. I listened to the breeze rustling the leaves of nearby trees and gazed up at the fluffy white clouds rolling lazily across the sky. It was oddly peaceful.

A brisk breeze began to blow over us. Without thinking I curled my arm around the trolling, not wanting him to get cold. Fortunately he was still fairly small, and I had big hands. If it gets too chilly, I'll use my hair. I'd better start carrying a blanket in my hair, too, I decided, already making plans to be better prepared.

A stronger gust hit us, and the hammock swayed a little. Above us the rope creaked slightly and I froze, reminded of the time my pod had fallen with me still inside. Due to my concussion I didn't have an actual memory of my Incident, but in my dreams I'd experienced the sickening, helpless sensation of falling a thousand times over.

Acorn must have felt me tense underneath him. He stirred, whimpering fretfully in his sleep. Instinctively I began to rub his back to calm him. "Shhhhh shhhh shh… It's okay, Acorn. Calm down; I'm right here. You're fine. Everything's fine…"

When he settled down and relaxed trustfully back against me, I let out a long, slow breath. Don't freak him out, Branch. He needs his sleep. Besides, even if the rope breaks, we won't exactly fall far, I told myself sternly, glancing at the ground only a few feet below us.

Generally speaking, falling didn't bother me any more than any other troll. After all, we spent much of our lives navigating through the air with easy grace and outstanding flexibility. Our hair alone could save us in dozens of ways, such as by becoming a parachute, a whirling copter, or a staircase. Or simply by extending outward to grab whatever was nearby and stop our fall.

Assuming, of course, that nothing went wrong. Like, say, getting your hair tangled in a spider's web, and having a large, bone-cracking boulder directly underneath you.

I gave the rope above me a nervous glance. I wonder if that rope is strong enough. I'll inspect it after Acorn wakes up. In fact, just to be sure, maybe I ought to get some thicker rope and re-hang this hammock with the toughest, most untie-able knots there are. Hm. Which would be the best knot for tying something when you want part of it able to move?

I knew dozens of types of knots, of course, but I wanted to be absolutely sure I was picking the best one. No need to take any chances, right? Maybe I'd better ask Leafe. Better yet, Laurel. Oh, rats. I forgot about the quarantine. Soon, then. In the meantime, I can at least do an inspection…

By the time Acorn woke up, I was surprised to realize that two hours had passed. It hadn't felt nearly that long to me.

"Hey, your eyes are blue again, Branch," Acorn commented.

"Huh. Maybe I just needed a little rest. And some good company," I said, surprising myself.

I was even more surprised to hear Acorn giggle, obviously in a better mood now. For some reason, I felt good inside. Maybe this experience wouldn't be that bad after all.

-O-

In the days after that, Acorn would willingly take a nap whenever I judged he needed one, as long as I shared the hammock with him. He called it our Hammock Time. He liked to lie right on top of me, snuggling his face into my chest. It took surprisingly little time to get used to the weight of his warm little body, and the feel of him breathing against me. Sometimes I could even feel his heartbeat.

The funny thing was, I found the experience as soothing as he did. You'd think having someone sleeping on you would feel restrictive, suffocating. But instead, it feels calming. Grounding, as Leafe would say.

When the little trolling was restless in his sleep, I would speak softly to him and stroke his back and hair to help him relax. I liked the way he would go still as soon as I touched him, because it meant that he felt safe with me around. He trusted me. Of course, most trolls besides me were very trusting, but it still made me feel well, appreciated. Special, like I was important to him.

I'd never spent time with someone who wanted to be with me so much. Not even Poppy. It was a novel experience, but one I liked very much.

I also liked that fact that Acorn was one of very few trolls who used my real name, instead of the silly baby nickname my old foster parents had given me. Although maybe I'd been influenced by them more than I thought. I was used to calling Acorn "little one", but on our third morning together I'd impulsively called him "Lil' Nut". Before I could take it back, he'd given me a big grin. "Sure, Big Oak."

"'Big Oak'?"

"Yeah. We both have tree names, right? Since acorns come from oak trees, you can call me Lil' Nut, and I'll call you Big Oak. Okay?"

"Um…okay."

I wasn't quite sure how I felt about yet another nickname, but it turned out that it didn't bother me. Not even when Acorn started calling me 'Captain Oakman' later on. Even though it was kind of silly, for some reason I found that I really liked being called 'captain'. Maybe it was the respect in his eyes.

Acorn looked up to me, as if I really was his big brother. He was an only child, like me, although I found out that that wasn't going to be the case for long. I'd learned from Leafe and Cherry Blossom that Acorn's mother, Tulip, was carrying an eggling in her hair. She and her husband Cardigan had been expecting a new trolling.

It had made me sad to hear that, but Cherry Blossom had pointed out that in some ways, it was a good thing. Tulip might have lost Cardigan, but he'd given her and Acorn another member of the family to love. Someone to remember the man they had lost. Maybe the new trolling would even have his colors, as Acorn did.

Acorn had shown me pictures of his dad. He'd had mint-green skin, bluish-lavender hair, and a lavender-pink nose, just like I remembered Acorn having right before he'd lost his colors. The only difference was that Cardigan had had sapphire-blue eyes. Maybe this new trolling would have his eyes.

-O-

Acorn talked about missing his mom a lot. He made multiple get-well cards for her each day, sent to the quarantine pod by messenger bug, but the patients weren't allowed to send anything back.

Trying to give him something to look forward to, I reminded him, "Your new sister or brother will hatch any day now." I leaped into the hammock. "Won't that be good?"

"Yeah, I guess so," he said, his voice oddly expressionless.

From the look on his face, he wasn't looking forward to the new arrival. "Why the long face? Aren't you excited?"

Instead of answering, he jumped into the hammock with me. I lifted my arm and he snuggled down against me. As I draped my arm over him, I asked, "Something eating you, Lil' Nut? Besides the bergens, that is. Heh heh."

-O-

Over the past few days, Acorn and I had developed our own private set of jokes. Before then, I'd had a hard time with jokes, other than sarcasm. Not that I didn't understand humor, but it was rare that something ever struck me as funny enough to laugh out loud. I still couldn't manage a full belly laugh, but I could chuckle, at least.

I'd started to change my tune after the first few times I'd gone into full rant-mode and frightened Acorn or made him cry. He was a sensitive boy, and easily distressed. He needed constant reassurance.

Unfortunately, after a lifetime of being critical of, well, everything, it was hard to break the habit. But I'd quickly discovered I hated seeing his face drop, his little lip quivering. So I'd asked Leafe about possible strategies for avoiding upsetting Acorn, or fixing things after I messed up. Always good mentor, he'd reminded me of the practical uses of humor, to defuse tense or awkward situations.

I'd been reluctant to try something I'd never been any good at, but to my surprise, it worked. Even if the joke was lame, Acorn responded much more positively to a lighthearted approach, even if the subject was serious. It evolved into our own brand of humor, encouraging me to explore a part of my personality I'd never used before. One I'd barely even realized was there.

That first day, I kept sighing, deciding a dozen times over that trollings were definitely not in my future. Too troublesome. Too exasperating. Besides, it was crazy to even consider having them with the bergens out there looking for us.

The next day, all that changed. Ranting about the bergens, I'd managed to scare him pretty badly.

His response? To dive into my hair and refuse to come out.

I stood there in the waning afternoon light, my fists clenched, roiling with emotion. As smart and observant as I was, I'd quickly learned that losing my temper and shouting at him did no good.

"Acoooorn," I said in a long-suffering tone. "Please come out."

"Can't. The bergens will get me!"

"But there's no bergens here now."

"Yes there is. You said so!"

"No, what I said was that we should always be vigilant. That just means we shouldn't forget to watch out for them, because they're out there somewhere, watching, waiting… Oh."

Acorn was silent, obviously terrified. Suddenly I remembered what it felt like to be small, helpless and frightened. Shame stabbed me. What am I doing? He's six years old. What do I expect him to do if a bergen does show up? Attack it?

"Acorn? I'm sorry," I said, shamefaced. My shoulders sagged. "You're a very smart boy, and hiding is exactly what you should doif a bergen comes. In fact, I'm proud of you."

After a moment, he spoke. "Really?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry I scared you. Do you forgive me?" I said plaintively.

I hadn't realized until that moment how much I wanted him to like me. To trust me. No one had ever looked up to me before. No one had ever depended on me like this. To most trolls I was just the perpetual complainer they benevolently tolerated, and occasionally found amusing. I didn't get a lot of respect, but Acorn respected me. It was a new feeling, one that came with a lot of responsibility, but a good one overall. It made me feel good about myself, to know that I was important to someone.

Silence from my hair. I hung my head, and my ears and shoulders sagged.

Suddenly a pair of little gray feet appeared in my field of view. I jerked up my head in surprise as the rest of him followed. He jumped to the ground and turned to look up at me. "Well, okay, Branch," he said solemnly. "I forgive you."

I smiled and held my arms out wide, for once actually wanting a hug, and he leaped into them. I cradled his warm little body close to me, wishing he was my little brother for real.

"I love you, Branch."

I stiffened, stunned. He couldn't possibly mean that, could he? He's probably just saying that out of habit, because he's used to hearing people say that to him when they hug him. I mean, we barely know each other. It isn't possible to love someone in such a short amount of time, is it?

Then Acorn stirred in my arms, sensing something was wrong. "Branch?"

His little voice sounded worried. Did he think I didn't care about him? A surge of warmth filled my chest, and I realized it didn't matter if he meant it or not. What I was feeling was something I hadn't felt in a long, long time, but I recognized it. It felt good.

I hugged him back. "Yeah. Love you too, Lil' Nut."

-O-

"Branch! There you are I-"

"Shhhh!"

"Oops! Sorry," she whispered, seeing Acorn tucked into the hammock with me. He'd fallen asleep before he'd had the chance to tell me what was bothering him. He'd been restless for a while, but finally settled down. I didn't need her waking him up again.

She peered down at the peacefully sleeping trolling. "His colors are starting to come back, aren't they?" she continued in a soprano undertone.

"Are they?" I looked down at the trolling cuddled against my chest, noting more green in the gray. "Yeah, you're right, they are. A little bit, anyway."

Poppy returned my small, pleased smile with a much bigger one. "That's great news." She watched the trolling sleep for a minute before turning to look at me. "So, I'm here to come take him for you. I'm sorry I couldn't look after him before, but I had the Tickle Flu and-"

"Keep your voice down," I interrupted disapprovingly in a low tone, then added, "please" at her frown. "And you don't need to take anybody anywhere. Acorn and I are just fine together. In fact, unlike some trolls, he appreciates me."

Poppy looked hurt. "Hey, I appreciate you!"

Acorn whimpered and stirred in his sleep. Ignoring the pink princess, I put a hand on his back and rubbed gently, murmuring soothing words. "Shhh, it's okay. I'm right here, Acorn. Everything's okay, everything's good…"

Thankfully, he settled down fairly quickly. I scowled at Poppy, who looked contrite. "Sorry," she mouthed, and I nodded.

She studied the two of us for a while, then asked in a soft tone, "Are you sure you don't want me to take him?" From her expression, she was honestly puzzled as to why the village grump would want a clingy, emotionally needy trolling hanging around him.

I wasn't about to go into it all right now. "Thanks, but we're good," I said quietly, but firmly.

She hesitated a moment longer, but for once didn't argue with me. Instead she just nodded politely, and left us alone in peace.

With my back and sides hugged by the hammock and Acorn's reassuring weight on top, I felt no need at all to get up or do anything. I settled back into the hammock, stroking a gentle hand over Acorn's back, and let the day drift idly by.

Author's Note:

Hammock Time is a play on Hammer Time, from the World Tour movie. But mainly I thought it would be a good way for Branch and Acorn to bond. Cuddling with another person is a good way to relax and ground yourself, since your body releases bonding hormones that make you feel safe and content. Anxiety lessens, time feels less urgent, and confidence grows. Plus, Branch gets to experience being loved by someone who thinks the world of him. About time, I'd say.

The thing is, with Acorn, for the first time in Branch's life, he has the chance to care for someone. To love them, to cherish them, to be affectionate and adoring and just all-around tender to them. Poppy might have been a close friend, but she's everyone's friend. Whereas Acorn wants to be Branch's friend above all others. Understandable, since they've both gone through similar circumstances. They've bonded over their trauma.

Also, up to now, whatever family/group Branch has been with, he's always been the one with the least amount of power and authority. Even though Poppy is almost four years younger, as the princess, she's always held a certain amount of power over him. Acorn is an ordinary troll who's been caught in truly awful circumstances, just like Branch. Also, the eight-year gap between them is significant. For the first time in his life, troubled teenage Branch truly feels older, stronger, and more in-control. Acorn naturally expects him to take the lead, so Branch finds himself leading. Not without some stumbles and mistakes, but Acorn is willing to forgive them, and love Branch anyway. Branch can't help loving the little boy for that.