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Picturebook Romance

A Trolls fanfic

By Dreamsinger

Chapter One

Author's Note:

I was going back through this chapter and fixing some grammar issues when I realized that it needed revising. Even though this fic is set after just the first movie and first holiday special, I wanted to reflect the personalities of Branch and Poppy as we now know them after two more movies and the second holiday special.

Coming Clean

The young troll queen gazed in quiet appreciation at the handsome sleeping troll lying next to her. Her eyes traced over dark purple eyebrows on aquamarine skin, delicately pointed ears and a generous mouth, relaxed now into an almost-smile. Her face softened into an affectionate smile as she gazed at the care lines etched around his eyes. They gave his face so much character, as someone who had faced more than his share of adversity in life and had done his best to counter it, all on his own.

She loved to look at him, almost as much as she loved to touch him, to draw out the vibrant passion that had always been there and focus it on the joys life had to offer, rather than the sorrows. It still enchanted her, how thoughtful and caring he was; how every so often he would do something so totally sweet and romantic that it made her fall in love with him all over again.

She admired his beautiful body, all strength and suppleness, the gentleness of his large hands and the soft downiness of his warm skin. She loved to follow the flow of his body from his cute toes to the tips of his beautiful dark hair, her eyes gliding over every curve and plane, drawing her gaze like a magnet. Almost as though if she closed her eyes he would be gone, as if their joy was just a dream.

Just a dream…

Poppy jumped as her alarm chimed, startled out of sleep. For a moment she lay there, blinking, as an unaccustomed wave of sadness washed over her. She felt the corners of her mouth turn down, missing him, wanting him, surprising herself a little with the strength of her longing. Slowly she reached out and placed a hand on her bed, wondering if he would ever lay there or whether it would be someone else who would make himself a special place in her heart.

"Hey, Poppy, you up yet?" Smidge's gruff voice jolted her upright, the tantalizing dream vanishing into the corners of her mind. "Come see the decorations for tomorrow's festival, okay? There's a problem with the lights…"

She leaped out of bed and grabbed a hairbrush. "Be right there, Smidge!"

Poppy spent her day giving the children their daily lessons, tracking down Branch to ask him for a favor, performing various boring but important village administrative duties, winning an impromptu skitterboarding competition against Guy Diamond and the twins, distributing mass invitations to the villagers for the festival, approving Cooper's choice of pyrotechnics, decorating brownies and cakes with Biggie, coordinating the music selection for the festival with DJ, playing jump-rope with some of the children, and just generally enjoying her day, the strange dream she'd had long since forgotten.

Almost. Every so often the pink troll experienced a waft of melancholy, a vague feeling that something was wrong, or missing. She would pause and look around her, trying to figure out the source of her disquiet, but everyone looked happy as they prepared for the next day's festival.

Finally she decided to ask Branch later on. If anyone can pinpoint something out of place, he can. Oddly, her despondency eased at the thought of her friend. She continued on with a lighter heart.

When her bracelet signaled the late-afternoon Hug Time, she looked for Branch, remembering that she wanted to see him, but he was nowhere in sight. I'll go looking for him right after dinner, then.

Full of satisfaction for a day well-spent, the young troll queen went home, cheerfully planning her evening meal. After showering and changing into a fresh dress, she was heading for the kitchen when there was a thump at her door, not quite a knock.

"Poppy, it's me," came Branch's call.

"Oh, good! Just the troll I was looking for." She pulled open the round felted door of her pod. "Thanks for bringing more flashbugs for tomorrow's festival, Branch," Poppy said to the purple-haired male troll who stood in the doorway holding a heavy wooden box with small holes in it that tilted and jiggled as the bugs inside moved around. "I wasn't sure we had enough." They must have been what I thought was missing.

"No prob-problem," he gasped, straining to keep the box from flipping onto the floor as all the bugs apparently decided to have a meeting at one end. Through clenched teeth he grunted, "Where do you want them?"

Poppy led him to the alcove in her pod where she stored party supplies and he set the box down with a sigh of relief. As he turned to face her, he put up a hand to wipe his brow and she caught the sheen of sweat across the muscles beneath his open vest. All trolls were built strong and sturdy, of course, but lately for some reason she'd noticed he seemed stronger than most.

She tilted her head to the side, looking him up and down. He was definitely well-built, solid and muscular. His impressively large hands and feet looked deceptively clumsy; yet his movements were quick and precise, like his clever mind. He was handsome too, now that he smiled more. It was almost like she was looking at a different troll. Or maybe it was just that he wasn't as much of a scaredy-troll as he used to be. He'd grown so much in the past six months; she couldn't help but be proud of her friend.

Then she noticed the smell of fresh sweat and remembered something.

"Poppy?" The aquamarine troll crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. "You're zoning out again."

She beamed at him, her eyes shining.

Branch's ears pressed back against his head for a moment before resuming their characteristic outward tilt. He rolled his eyes and sighed in resignation. "Okay, what else do you need?"

Poppy giggled at his long-suffering expression. "Nothing."

He gave her a skeptical look and crossed his arms, cocking his head to the side as he shifted his weight onto one hip. Poppy held up her hands, her palms facing him. "Really. I just thought you might like to take a bubble bath while you're here. You told me once you've never had one before."

"Oh." He looked a little surprised, then smiled. "Sure. Thanks. I was going to take a bath once I got home anyway. As long as it doesn't take too long; it looks like it's going to rain soon."

"Great!" She beamed at him. "I know my tub's not as big as the underground pool you bathe in, but it's just right for relaxing after a hard day's work."

While he was bathing, the young troll queen went looking for clean clothes that might fit him. Fortunately, since she threw a lot of slumber parties, she had a collection of forgotten garments that he could choose from. When she heard the shower go on she scooped up her choices and waited outside the waterproof curtain, watching his dark silhouette rinsing soap from his hair and skin.

Poppy noticed from the sweet smell in the air that he'd chosen the vanilla-scented soap. She opened her mouth to ask him how he liked the bubble bath, but stopped as she heard him singing bits and pieces of a song she didn't know. Branch was crooning to himself about learning to grow and change, and the joys of having a certain someone by his side. Aww, that's beautiful. The pink troll melted a little, a silly, loving smile spreading over her face. Talented poet and musician that he was, she wondered if he'd written it himself.

Every time she heard the former recluse sing, it was like a gift, and Poppy did everything she could to encourage him to use the glorious voice that had been silent for so long. Not just because he was beautiful to hear, but because when Branch sang, he was almost a different person; bold and joyous, as a troll should be.

Every time Branch sang, it awoke the powerful connection that had been forged between them during his very first song as she'd knelt there in the darkness, crushed to the ground under the terrible weight of guilt and gray hopeless despair. Then his voice, his kind, sweet voice had reached out to her, warming the chill deep in her heart and bringing her back with soft words of encouragement, devotion and love. Ever since then, things had been different between them. He had been different, in so many ways, all of them good.

Now the pink troll closed her eyes to listen to his song, savoring the moment, and the rise of tenderness she felt for her sensitive, loyal, quirky, wonderful best friend.

Eventually the singing stopped. Poppy watched his shadowy form shut off the water and bend over, twirling his hair into a twist to squeeze out the excess water as he – ever safety-conscious - kept both hands on the sides of the standalone tub. "Poppy?" he called. "Have you got a towel?"

She pulled one from its hook. "Here you go, Branch."

He slid the curtain to one side and got out, his nude aquamarine form shining wet and clean. His dark purple hair was curled into a spiral. "Thanks." He took the towel from her and started wiping himself down. She watched him, noting his cute little man-bits and the play of toned muscles normally hidden by his clothes, especially across his back and shoulders.

Was it her imagination, or were those muscles more impressive than she remembered? Curious, she reached out and placed a hand on his back to feel them. Branch jumped slightly, the towel in front of his belly. He held still as she slid her hand along his moist, downy skin, pleased by its texture. His muscles bunched as she slowly stroked across his shoulders, then continued downward, gently exploring. Branch tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Slowly his hair unfurled, lifting and spreading outward like a flower in the sun.

After a minute, Branch pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly before he asked, "Poppy? What are you doing?"

She paused, then shrugged, deciding to ignore the slight sharpness in his tone. "You have very nice muscles," she complimented him earnestly as she moved around in front of him. She set both hands on his chest, noting the firmness beneath her fingers. "All that working out you do is really paying off."

Poppy looked up to smile cheerfully at her friend, only to see him watching her with a tense, strangely disappointed expression, the stress lines deepening around his eyes. Her smile faded. "What?"

His gaze slid to the side. "Nothing."

She let go of him, took a step back, and put her fists on her hips. "Branch." She stared at him until he looked up, searching her eyes intensely. She sensed that he was waiting for her to say something. Her brow wrinkled in puzzlement.

Suddenly his face closed down and he seemed to give up, his shoulders drooping. He looked down at the floor and then up at her with the same kind of muted unhappiness she recognized from the past. Had she done something to upset him?

Just then her Hug Time bracelet flowered, its cheerful ting a startling contrast to the strained atmosphere that had somehow grown between then. She beamed gratefully. Of course. A hug would fix everything. "Hug Ti-"

"No!" His hand flashed up between them, almost hitting her in the face. Reflexively she jerked back, staring at him with wide eyes. He hadn't rejected a hug since he'd gotten back his colors. Sometimes he'd even spontaneously hug her, to celebrate a triumph, or just because they were friends. What's wrong?

He saw the hurt on her face as he lowered his arm. "Sorry. I'm – I'm all wet. I don't want to get your clothes wet."

She scrunched up her face, trying to decide if he was telling the truth.

Why was he upset? All she'd been doing was touching him, running her hands over his warm body, enjoying the close contact. Enjoying it very much, in fact. For some reason, his body was interesting; a lot more interesting than she'd ever found anyone else's. Why was that? Even now she wanted to reach out and touch him some more, and experienced an odd sense of frustration that he wouldn't let her.

That wasn't like her. What's going on? It wasn't like her to do things that made her friends uncomfortable, either. She stepped back, confused and upset.

Branch stood there watching her, obviously nervous, still holding the towel with his arm pressed low on his stomach. Normally she would have kept pestering him until he told her what was bothering him - really, he could be so exasperating; how did he ever expect to be close to people if he never let them see the real him? - when the awkwardness of his position finally registered and she suddenly realized what was happening to him.

Because of what she had been doing. To him. To her friend Branch; her very special, important friend. Someone she cared about very much.

Without meaning to, she glanced down at the towel, even more interested now than before. When she moved her eyes upward, they lingered on his strong arms and chest, wanting to take everything in. It was true that Branch was her friend, but he was also a man. A very handsome one.

As her eyes met his, his cheeks flushed lavender. She expected him to look away, but he held her gaze. Again, it seemed as if he was waiting. Hoping for her to say something, or do something…

And it didn't seem as if he would stop her this time.

Does he think… I was just touching him. We touch each other all the time, when we're dancing or hugging or whatever. She enjoyed hugging Branch very much.

…But this wasn't hugging, was it?

And she didn't just want to hug him. She wanted…more. The sight of his beautiful nude body made her want to-

Wait. Beautiful body?

A wave of confusion was followed by a sudden heat in her face. She slapped her hands to her cheeks, staring at him with round eyes, consumed with embarrassment.

"Oh my gosh!" I was. I was touching him the way trolls touch when they want to…

Her fierce blush was echoed on the face of the troll watching her. Branch stiffened, then quickly turned his back to her. After a long moment, he resumed drying himself off.

She stood there, sweating and red-faced, wanting to look at him and wanting to look anywhere else but at him. Then she was overcome with the urge to escape the whole situation. "I, uh, I brought you some clothes. Pick anything you like," she said awkwardly.

"Thanks," he said quietly, not turning around as she backed away and headed for the main living area.

What was all that about? I need to think.

The last time she had felt tempted to treat another troll like this had been when she'd had a crush on Creek, the suave, smooth-talking yoga instructor. She'd imagined him declaring his undying love for her, wooing her into sharing a few kisses – and more. She'd even considered letting it happen, although she was fervently glad now that it hadn't. Ever since he had turned out to be such a traitor, she had tried very hard not to even think about the subject at all. It was one of the few things that truly upset the young queen.

But Branch was his polar opposite. Surely she wasn't thinking about him in the same way?

How do I really feel about Branch?

Yes, they had bonded during their adventure, and she had grown closer to her oddly mature/immature friend, closer than they'd been in years. But was that the only reason they spent so much time together lately? Why she caught herself admiring him and wanting to be near him? Or why she enjoyed Hug Time that little bit more when he was part of the hug, especially when it was just the two of them?

Slowly Poppy sat down on her bed, pressing her teeth thoughtfully into her knuckles. A vague memory came back to her, of the romantic dream she'd awakened from this morning. Could it be?

Maybe she'd suspected her feelings for him lately might have been different from the love she felt for every troll in her village. But their relationship had always been…complicated. Branch was so complicated. He had a lot of secrets, something that both intrigued and infuriated her. Some of the things he did even shocked her, although she never doubted he only had everyone's safety at heart.

And what about Branch? His reaction just now… What did it mean? At first it had seemed like he'd been enjoying what she was doing before he'd rejected her. Maybe he'd just gotten embarrassed because of what her touch had done to him, but maybe there more to it. He'd seemed…almost…yearning. Did he feel something more for her than simple friendship?

While she knew full well that he loved her as a friend, he'd never said he was attracted to her. Never done anything she'd seen other sweethearts do for each other. He'd never called her pretty, or given her gifts, or recited some of that beautiful poetry that had first caught her attention and made her realize there was a lot more to him than she'd ever suspected. For a while she had even suspected the poem he'd quoted for Bridget to repeat had been about her, but as the months passed and he'd only treated her like a good friend, she had put such thoughts aside. If he was interested in her, he'd say something.

Wouldn't he? This is Branch we're talking about here…

A few minutes later Branch emerged from the bathroom wearing dark blue shorts and a yellow tank top, his own clothes tucked under his arm. "I'm going to head home now," he said brusquely, "Thanks for the bubble bath. It was…refreshing."

As he moved quickly toward the door she felt a twinge. "Branch-"

He didn't stop. "Sorry, I've got to get home before it starts-" He jerked the door open to reveal sheets of water cascading down, the sky dark.

He hesitated, then seemed to gather himself to plunge out into the rainstorm. She darted forward to put a hand on his shoulder. "Branch, wait."

He ducked his head as his ear angled toward her, silently listening. His shoulder felt as tense as she felt. She was tempted to just let him go, to pretend that this had never happened, but there was no taking it back. If they didn't talk about this, she knew he would avoid her from now on; maybe even retreat back underground and be even more lonely than before, and it would be her fault.

Poppy bit her lip. "Branch, I know you don't like talking about your feelings, but I'm really confused right now. We need to talk. Would you mind staying here tonight? At least until it stops raining?"

He threw a haunted look at her over his shoulder, his blue eyes gleaming in the darkness as they reflected the light from her pod. He was breathing heavily and she sensed his desire to run.

"Please." She let go of his shoulder and curled one hand around the other, pressing them against her chest.

He looked to the side, then took a step forward, standing in the doorway with the wind riffling his still-damp hair while she pressed her lips together, waiting anxiously. Then he took a step backward into the room, closing the door behind him.

Author's Note:

A wonderful song for this critical, poignant moment is Taking Chances by Celine Dion. I prefer the version sung by Rachel on the tv show Glee – it's a little softer and more vulnerable and so beautiful…

This story takes place after the first movie, the first Trolls Holiday special, and the short clip "Trolla-palooza", which is on YouTube.

In Trolls Holiday Poppy calls Bridget her best friend, but I figure that Poppy might have several different "best" friends in various situations. So Branch can be her best friend/boyfriend, while Bridget is her best girl-friend. Especially since, unlike Poppy's other friends, Bridget holds a similar social position. As King Gristle's girlfriend/future queen, she is essentially royalty by the end of the first movie just like Poppy.

My decision on how to handle nudity is carefully considered, based on the movies and holiday specials, rather than the cartoon series. Public nudity does not seem to be considered a big deal to trolls (bergens are another matter). When the second movie came out, we see more naked trolls. None of the trolls seem to have visible baby-making body parts, but instead lay eggs through their hair. Baby trolls are apparently able to walk, talk, and sing pretty much from birth onward.

But since this is a story for humans, I decided that it would be more satisfying to read a story closer to what we humans experience, so for my version of the trolls, they do have male and female private parts. The females don't have breasts, however, since I could tell that from the first movie, and also because I like the idea of eggs rather than painful childbirth. Babies that come from eggs usually aren't breast-fed, which matched with what we saw in Trolls World Tour. So I decided that in my story they make babies the same way we do, but the eggs form in, and come out through, their hair, just like in the second movie.

So since the trolls seem to have a rather casual attitude about nudity, I figured neither Branch nor Poppy would particularly mind seeing each other naked unless it got serious, which it did when Poppy inadvertently made Branch aroused.

I refer to both the first Trolls Holiday special and the Trolla-palooza short in this story. I consider both cartoon series as alternate universes.

I have a tumblr blog called Trolls Philosophy under the name dreamsinger-rose, where I've done some in-depth posts about my favorite movie, should you decide you like how I write and want to see more from me.

Have fun reading, and as always, questions, comments, reviews and fanart are very welcome!