-O-

Picturebook Romance

A Trolls fanfic

By Dreamsinger

Chapter Seventy-Six

Memory Lane 4: A New Start

"Branch, Branch, Branch!" came Poppy's loud voice through my listening tubes, accompanied by hollow wooden thumps beating in time.

Maybe I should have camouflaged the entrance after all. I sighed. No doubt she's here to scold me for defying her father. Well, tough. I meant what I said. Loud music and fireworks together are a death sentence, pure and simple.

The thumping increased its tempo. It sounded as if a certain young princess who had never been known for patience was literally tap dancing on my trap door. I went to one of my periscopes and took a look. Sure enough, Poppy was doing just that. Dancing in frustration. Rude. But also amusing. I guess she's not as grown up as I thought.

I decided to ignore her. Maybe she'll think I'm not home.

For the next few minutes Poppy continued to call and pound, while I continued to unsuccessfully ignore her. The pitch of her cries became more frantic. "Branch? Come on, Branch, please answer me!"

I reminded myself, I don't live in the village anymore. She can't tell me what to do.

Finally the pounding slowed, then stopped. I began to breathe a sigh of relief, only to have it cut short.

"Come on, Branch," she called in a more reasonable tone. "I know you're in there."

Despite myself, I started answering her aloud, even though she couldn't possibly hear me. "No, really? Where else would I be?"

"Branch, come out, will you? We need to talk about this."

"No, thank you. I'm all talked out for the day. For the year. Maybe for life."

"You can't stay in there forever."

"Well now, you see, that's where you're wrong. That's literally what a bunker is for – to have someplace safe to wait out a siege. I've got enough supplies to last me for three months. Pretty sure you can't hang around for that long," I said smugly.

There was quiet for a few minutes. Did she give up already?

When she finally spoke, I had to strain to hear her. "They told me about the fight. I know your feelings are hurt. I get it. But you said some pretty mean things, too, you know."

I had no snappy comeback for that. I recalled the pain on her father's face as I lashed out at him. Laurel's look of horror. What does she think of me now? My ears burned. Probably ought to apologize to the king… Maybe I should even apologize to Cree- No! Branch, what are you doing? Don't get back on that train. If you go back now you'll just be repeating the cycle. A new start, remember? Whatever you do, don't get sucked back in.

Besides, it's their fault for making me so mad. Especially the king, for making such reckless choices. I was only trying to talk some sense into him. He didn't have to get so mad.

…Well, maybe I could have worded things a little more respectfully. What I said was pretty insulting, I guess. Despite what some people thought, I did have a conscience. Every time I remembered the words I'd flung into the king's face, I winced in shame.

But then, troll culture also said that when there was a conflict, everyone involved should apologize. If the king wanted me to apologize to him, then he should be willing to do the same. But I don't see him here.

"Branch, my dad said he was sorry for reacting like he did."

And there it was. I hesitated another few seconds, then gave up. I took the lift to the surface, where Poppy was standing there alone. "Yeah, right. If he's so sorry, why isn't he here to apologize himself?" I said sharply, crossing my arms.

"How could he be, when you made me promise not to tell anybody else where you are?"

Oh. Right.

"Branch, Dad wanted me to pass on a few messages. He wanted me to tell you…" My friend's manner grew contrite. "That he shouldn't have lost his temper, and that he knows your heart is in the right place. He knows that you care about protecting the village," she said sincerely, placing her hand over her own heart.

Despite myself, I couldn't help but feel mollified. "Well. That's true."

"He also said he thought about what you said about changing the rules. He believes that you probably got so upset because his sudden announcement scared you. Also, because you were hurt and angry that you didn't get to share your opinion first." She ducked her head a little. "Is that right, Branch?"

I blinked, more surprised at how humbly my normally high-flying friend was trying to approach me than because of the message itself. That leadership training is paying off. I couldn't bring myself to snap at her again, settling for a sullen, "I guess so."

She nodded solemnly. "I see. Well, in that case, you'll be pleased to know that Dad decided to discuss the situation with everyone in the village."

"Seriously?"

"Yes. And then, because it was such a sensitive topic, he asked us all to vote…by secret ballot." Her attempt to sound stealthy was foiled by the big grin that broke through the diplomatic mask. "And guess what? A lot of trolls turned out to be on your side. Not the whole village, but there were enough who agreed with you about keeping the rules the same that Dad changed his mind. He's not going to lift the bans on fireworks or extreme music levels after all."

I uncrossed my arms, surprised and gratified at the news. "He's not? Really?"

"Yes, really! Dad decided it was more important for everyone to feel safe. And while personally I think that's kind of a bummer…" Poppy did an "Oh, well" sort of shrug. "The bright side is, now there's no reason for you to be mad." She gave a glad bounce. "You can come home and hug it out with Dad and everything will be fine!"

Relief flooded me. So I hadn't burned my bridges after all. If the king forgave me, the rest would follow his lead. I started to say yes, then stopped.

What are you doing, Branch? Have you forgotten you're making a new start? Come on, think! What would you even be going back to? Laurel's with that poet now. You can't hang with her anymore. She knows how you feel about her - it'd be super awkward to be around her. Or her parents. Besides, soon she'll be married and off to a new life of her own. A new family, just like Leafe and Cherry Blossom.

What else is left? Leafe's old pod? I pictured it - immediately rejected it. That place isn't home, not anymore. Not without Leafe. No, my home is… I glanced at the open trap door, thinking about all that lay below it, and my expression softened. After all the time and effort I'd put into creating it, my bunker felt more like home than any other place I'd ever lived, except maybe my dads' place. But they had their own family now, too. No room for me. Plus, the idea of begging for scraps of affection made my stomach clench. No, thanks. Everyone else has moved on and made new starts. It's about time I make mine.

"Branch? You can come home. Isn't that good news?"

I looked up to see Poppy giving me a look of concern, and I realized that underneath her cheery attitude she was genuinely worried. Somewhere inside me I found a smile for her. She smiled back, looking relieved. This situation was probably upsetting for her. Troll culture was all about love and harmony, after all. Another reason I didn't belong in the village.

I felt sorry for her, caught in the middle of all this. Poppy hadn't even been there. She hadn't rejected me. She was still my friend. So I kept smiling as I told her, "Tell your dad I accept his apology, and that I'm sorry, too."

"Yay!" She beamed at me for a minute before her happy look faded into a frown of confusion. She tilted her head to one side. "Wait. Why don't you tell him yourself?"

When I continued to smile at her; trying my best to look friendly but non-committal, she finally got it. "…You're not coming back, are you?"

"No. I'm not."

"Aw, come on, Branch. Dad said he's sorry," Poppy pleaded.

I held up my hands. "It's not that. I'm not mad at him anymore. It's just… Well, this is my latest project, and I have a lot of work to do."

For once not exactly true, but it was such a familiar explanation that Poppy calmed down. She put a hand on her hip. "Oh, you and your projects."

"Listen, tell your dad I'm sorry. I really am." I put my palms together, an old habit of mine when I was honestly trying to express myself. "I feel really bad about hurting him. I… I was actually upset about something else, and I took it out on him." I looked down in shame. "That was wrong, and I'm really, really sorry."

She looked at me for a long time while I did my best to appear sincerely apologetic. Finally she said softly, "I'll tell him."

"Thank you."

"But are you really sure you don't want to come back with me?" She took a step toward me, studying me with those new eyes, the ones with shadows of pain and shame that never used to be there. "Are you gonna be all right if I leave you here all alone?"

I smiled. "Yeah, I think I'm good. Really. Being out here…" I took a deep breath, enjoying the crisp, cool air. "It's quiet, and peaceful. It's what I need, I think. A little distance."

She studied me for a moment longer. "I don't get it, but you do seem more relaxed out here." She let out a long sigh, seeming to accept my decision. "Okay, Branch. If this is really what you want, then I support you."

"Really? Well, thank you." I was surprised that she was giving up so quickly. She hadn't even tried to rope me into a song-and-dance routine about all the supposedly wonderful things I was going to miss out on if I didn't return. I was starting to like this new, more mature Poppy. She was definitely easier to deal with.

But of course it couldn't last forever. Moments later her bubbly energy was back. "Well anyway, it's nice to see you try something new. Hey! Maybe once you get settled in, you'll feel like inviting me inside to show off your new home, huh?" She gave me a hopeful grin.

I smirked, imagining my friend bouncing off the walls out of boredom and driving me crazy. "No way."

"Aw, but Branch!" she protested.

"Poppy, you promised you wouldn't try to make me take you inside," I admonished her, but gently. I knew how much she hated feeling left out.

When she gave me a sad cuddlepup face, complete with quivering lip, I relented a little. "Okay. I'll make you a promise, Poppy. You can come inside - the day the bergens attack."

"What? That's gonna be like, never," she complained.

I crossed my arms smugly. "Well, if it never happens, that means the bergens never attack. That's a good thing, right?"

She perked up. "That's true. And maybe you'll change your mind someday anyway. In any case, I've got to get back and tell Dad that things are okay now. I'll come see you soon, okay?"

She turned to leave, then turned back. "Oh! By the way, good job looking on the bright side, Branch. Maybe living out here really will help brighten those gloomy skies." She booped my nose, then gave me a quick hug. "I knew you could do it! Keep it up! Bye, Branch!"

"Bye, Poppy."

And then she was gone, taking her sunshine with her.

I stood there for a while. I listened to the wind in the trees, and the singing of the local wildlife, trying to avoid noticing the empty space she'd left behind.

Finally I went back inside. I looked around the shadowy chamber, wondering what I should do next. I'd already completed the day's usual tasks in preparation for an onslaught that had never happened, and it was too early to start making dinner.

For the first time in so very long, I had nothing urgent on the agenda. Nothing I needed to focus all my time and energy to accomplish. Where another troll might look at some unexpected free time as an opportunity to find something fun to do, I just felt…lost.

I stood in the small chamber for several minutes, staring at a pile of blankets without seeing them. The silence seemed to get louder somehow, filling my head and the room, muffling everything.

Finally I roused myself. I should take a look at my chore list, I thought, my mind strangely hollow.

I took the lift down to the chamber I'd chosen as a bedroom, lit with the soft light of half a dozen glowshrooms. In the middle of the room was the big, sturdy bed I'd just finished building for myself and Laurel.Immediately I pushed that thought to the back of my mind.

The room was filled with the pleasant scent of new wood. The bed frame was still a pale cream color, waiting for me to add the finishing touch. I'd held off on staining it, wanting a certain someone's opinion on its color, but now I was free to decide. Walnut brown, I think. It'll match the walls. No bright colors. Nothing to remind me of – Never mind. Earth tones are soothing.

I picked up my planner and added stain bed frame to my list of chores. Then I looked over the rest and realized that many of them were no longer necessary. I didn't need to tend to anyone's injuries, or offer treats to crying trollings – or adults. I didn't need the speech I'd prepared about how even though everyone had thought I was crazy to still believe the bergens would find us, they were all welcome to shelter in my bunker anyway.

I sat down on the bed, recalling one of my favorite storylines from the Trial Run games I'd played with Leafe and Cheery. The storyline was a little different, as this was back before I'd begun building my bunker, but the essence was the same. I played the hero who saved the village from the bergens, and gave bold, inspiring speeches. As long as you all promise to follow my lead, we'll get through this. Don't be afraid. I've been preparing for this my entire life. I promise you: No one will die on my watch.

Then everyone would cheer and vow to listen to me from now on. King Peppy would thank me and say he'd been wrong to ignore the threat. He'd praise me in front of everyone and offer to help with whatever I deemed necessary. I would generously thank him for his help, and lead my people into a brighter, safer future.

I wonder what would have happened if they had attacked? Would it really have played out like I thought? I mean, the king sure put me in my place today, I thought wryly. I reached for my colored pencils and made a rough sketch of a stern orange face with a big, bushy mustache. "My rules, not yours!" echoed in my ears.

Looking down at the scowling face, suddenly it all seemed foolish. Who am I kidding? Apologize to me? Become my assistant? The king would never have done that. My face went hot, and suddenly I was fervently grateful that that conversation hadn't happened. Why would he? Even if he'd be willing to, no one would listen to me anyway. Even I wouldn't listen to me. Who would make the better leader, a grown man with a proven track record of saving his people from the deadliest threat of all, or someone who's barely an adult? The only time I ever even saw a bergen was the one that took Grandma, and I didn't even try to fight for her.

I drew a battle scene where King Peppy was kicking a bergen in the knee, making it drop a troll who looked like Grandma while a small gray trolling cowered nearby, his hands over his eyes. Yeah, right. Some leader I'd make. No wonder no one ever listens to me. And they never will. Never.

I turned the page of my planner and drew another scene of me fleeing from an angry king and a smug-looking Creek. The rest of the page I filled with big frowny-faces, except for one small pink troll with bright magenta hair. She was smiling and reaching out to me with open arms.

I smiled a little too, but shook my head resolutely. Sorry, Poppy, but I'm not going back to that. It's about time I turn the page and start a new chapter in my own… "Oh, that just figures," I grumbled aloud. "Out of pages. This is how my life is going."

Since I was still in the mood to keep writing, I reached out with my hair and took a book from one of my wall nooks; the first of a matching set I'd had ready and waiting. I called them The Bunker Journals. Volumes 1-10. I'd already set up a Table of Contents and written the first few entries; mainly describing my bunker and how it had been constructed. I'd planned to use the next few pages to make a census of every troll who'd survived the bergen invasion, but with that plan derailed, (at least for now) I might as well continue where I'd left off. Quite a lot had happened in the last 24 hours.

Well, it finally happened. I'm banished. Can't say I didn't expect it, but I didn't realize that I would be the one who kicked me out.

I described what hadn't happened during the non-earth-shattering Trollstice Anniversary, and how it was almost disappointing that the bergens hadn't shown up and caused all manner of mayhem and destruction. Then I did a lot of whining and complaining. This all happened because the king decided after a mere ten years that we're safe. He was actually going to lift the bans on music levels and fireworks. Fireworks, of all things! If I hadn't come along right then, we might all be swimming in some bergen's soup pot right now! I can't believe it!

I mean, sure, ten years is a long time, but unless they all died off, the bergens are still out there. I was just a trolling when we escaped, but I remember them, and I highly doubt they've forgotten us. Not all of them, anyway. That's what everyone forgets. All it takes is ONE. A single monstrous bergen that's still obsessed with hunting and eating trolls. Shoot some fireworks into the sky on some dark night, blast some music, and hello Trollstice.

I'm glad that least some of the other trolls have the common sense to agree with me. Probably the older ones, who remember being captives. The ones who lost loved ones, like Courtley. I wonder if Laurel was one of the ones who voted not to change the rules? It would be nice to know she was on my side…

At the thought of the girl I wished were mine, I sighed mournfully. I guess I'll never know. Oh, Laurel. I miss you already. I can't imagine what you must think of me now.

I pictured her pretty face glaring at me, or more likely, looking upset, and disappointed in me. I winced. She was so happy to share the news of her engagement with me, and I reacted like a jealous fool. Then I walked out on her and basically blew up the village.

I mimed an explosion with my hands. "Pewwww…" A one-troll wrecking crew. I didn't even need the bergens. Man, Savvy and Finetune must be so glad they didn't end up with me as a son-in-law.

The longer I wrote, the more everything came pouring out in a bitter deluge. Well, you know what? Today was a horrible day for me, too. I spent an entire year getting ready, and the bergens don't even show up! Then the girl I'm in love with tells me that she's getting married – to someone else! And she expects me to be happy for her? Like fun I will!

I mean, Quill Filigree, of all people? I can't believe Laurel. Choosing that head-in-the-clouds playwright over someone as skilled and dependable as me? Ridiculous. Impossible! What does she see in him that I couldn't do twice as – no, ten times better?

Write plays and poetry, apparently. Never mind all the things I'm good at – the only way to a girl's heart is through lovey-dovey mush! Romantic musical interludes. Good looks, and sweet nothings whispered in her ear. How's a regular guy like me supposed to compete?

"Stupid silver-tongued smooth talkers…" I muttered aloud. "Bane of my existence. Always making me look bad. And he's not the only one."

Yeah, Creek. I mean you! If you hadn't said what you did, I wouldn't have gotten so mad and yelled at the king, and now look what happened! Why can't you keep your big mouth shut?

No, I'm not wrong. The bergens are still out there. They are! You know they are. And they're looking for us. They have to be. Otherwise-

Otherwise…

I couldn't write the next thought down. It was unthinkable. Yet it whispered, ghosting around in my head without ever making it to the page. Otherwise I've destroyed every relationship I've ever had and wasted my entire life for nothing.

Hours later, after I'd poured out the last of my heartache, I felt like a wrung-out washcloth. Wearily I pushed my journal to the side, and slept. Months of sleep deprivation seemed to have caught up to me. I slept through dinnertime. I slept through breakfast time. By the time my grumbling stomach woke me with an especially loud rumble it was almost noon. Even then I lay there, reluctant to face this new life I'd chosen. Alone.

Maybe I ought to go back one last time and apologize to the king, at least. He was generous enough to apologize to me, after all. Poppy said- Oh, that's right. I already sent an apology back with her. Hm. I guess technically that means I'm under no real obligation to ever step foot in Troll Village again.

So, what do I do now?

I lay there for a while, staring up at a single dot of light on the ceiling. Probably a speck of glitter - the pesky stuff managed to get everywhere, no matter how hard I tried to avoid it while I was in the village.

Oh. I guess that won't be a problem now. I'm never going back to the village. I'll be able to keep my bunker as clean as I want.

I wondered if I should cry, as I had so often in the past after losing yet another home. But I didn't feel like it. I'd already done that with Poppy. Besides, this time I hadn't really lost anything. I have a home. The pod in the village was never really mine, but this bunker is. It's mine. My home, no one else's. Nobody – least of all the king – can ever take it away from me. Nobody else even suspects it exists- Oh, yeah. Except for Poppy. But she promised not to tell – she was even willing to pinky-promise, so I think she really means it. And anyway, all she saw was a dark little hole. She has no idea what I've built. And what I've built… I felt my cheeks protest as my mouth pushed out to the sides in a big, smug grin, "…is only the beginning."

A huge weight seemed to lift off my shoulders. I leaped out of bed and bounded out of my bedroom, ready to set things in motion. The world seemed to open up at the thought of filling my journals with to-do lists. Maps, blueprints, and diagrams; all meticulously measured. In this home, things would be done my way.

Thus I began the thrilling journey of expanding, upgrading, and organizing my new home, surfing on an amazing tide of enthusiasm that would last for the next three years. I'd never been so close to being truly happy. Was this how the other trolls felt every day?

-O-

I made the mistake of saying that to Poppy a few weeks later. The perky pink princess was eager to have the chance to analyze my feelings.

"Maybe you needed a change," she suggested brightly. "Something to keep things fresh. You're all done with school, and you've basically finished your apprenticeship with the Whizbangs, right? I think you're looking for a challenge."

"Maybe you're right," I agreed, hoping to end this subject quickly before she burst into song.

She nodded energetically. "Yeah, I'll bet that's it. You were bored with your life. Maybe playing out here is your thing."

"Playing?" I wrinkled my nose. "I'm not playing; I'm working."

"Yes, but for you, work is play. Isn't it?"

She had me there.

"Or maybe you were just lonely," she added.

"Lonely?" I scrunched up my face in puzzlement.

"I haven't seen you in such a good mood since you stopped playing with Acorn. Hey, maybe that's why you flipped out on my dad."

"What? What are you talking about?" Sometimes I had a hard time following her logic.

She gave me a big, toothy grin. "Well, last year you were almost chill when Trollstice came around becaaause…you spent the holiday with Acorn. This year – no Acorn. Major freakout." She crossed her arms, nodding in satisfaction. "Yup. That explains everything. I'll tell Dad not to take it personally."

I stared at her, then waved a dismissive hand. "That's crazy. That doesn't explain anything."

I didn't want to think that she might be right; that my latest freakout had less to do with the bergens and more to do with missing the people I loved. I didn't want to admit that just being with the people I trusted could make a difference in how safe I felt, because that would mean I was emotionally dependent on them. And that was a thought I just couldn't bear.

So I denied it, even to myself. I wasn't lonely; the past year had just been really hard. Looming deadlines, killer stress, massive frustration at every roadblock or delay, especially those caused by other trolls. Add in lack of sleep and it was no wonder I'd blown my top.

"No, I'm pretty sure I'm right," she declared, as if she were some kind of expert.

I caught the flaw in her logic. "Oh, yeah? Well, if I'm so lonely, how could I be in a good mood?" I said smugly, crossing my own arms. Let's see her explain that.

"You're not. Lonely, I mean. I come to see you every day so that doesn't happen, right?" Her tone softened. "Because I'm your friend, Branch. Taking care of my friends is what I do."

I stared at her, simultaneously touched and annoyed. Annoyed at her assumption that I needed taking care of, but very glad that she wanted to. Poppy was super busy these days with all her new training, but she'd still made time to visit me every single day since I'd left. Since the day I'd cried in her arms. Every time I thought about that my face burned with embarrassment, but I owed it to her to acknowledge the effort she was making for me.

In a tone just as soft, I replied in all earnestness, "Thank you, Poppy."

-O-

As much as it bothered me to admit, she had a point. I hadn't had regular conversations with someone since the day Leafe left, over a year ago. Had I been lonely and not realized it?

Had I missed Poppy, in particular? We used to be closer, until life got in the way. Annoying as she could be sometimes, I still cared about her, and she obviously still cared about me. Maybe I have missed her. Maybe that's part of why things seem brighter now, because this whole thing brought Poppy back into my life. I've actually seen more of her in the last month than I have in the past year.

My lively friend seemed to have decided that since she was my only contact with the village, it was up to her to check up on me. Every day she brought me news and invitations. Most came from Poppy herself. Some were general village-wide events. I'd also received one from Savvy and Finetune; a demonstration of a new water-filtration system design. That one I'd actually been tempted to accept, but Laurel would no doubt be there, so I'd had to pass it up.

When I caught myself brooding over not being able to go, it came as something of a surprise. Up until then, even though I'd rarely taken advantage of opportunity to be social, I'd always had the option. Knowing that that option was gone bothered me more than I wanted to admit. As if endless opportunity to socialize was a privilege or something.

Well, endless opportunity for peace and quiet is a privilege, too, I told myself. Never mind. I'll come up with my own filter design, specifically tailored to the bunker's ecosystem.

-O-

Though Poppy technically kept her promise and never demanded that I let her into the bunker, she wasn't above dropping hints so obvious that even a bergen could see them.

"I was thinking about a new game. Hide-and-seek, except underground." She tapped her chin. "Now if only I knew someplace like that. You know, someplace all dark and gloomy and spooky…" she whispered mischievously, giving an exaggerated shudder.

For a species that lived in free-hanging pods open to the breeze, her attitude was understandable. Part of the reason it had taken so long for our people to escape the bergens was because no one had thought about tunneling underground – right through the troll tree itself - to make an escape route. But I'd discovered that I loved feeling protected by thick, solid walls. Finally I had something I could rely on, something that would always be there to make me feel secure. Finally, finally, finally, I was safe.

Maybe feeling safe was affecting me in unexpected ways, because I often found myself giving in to the impulse to tease my young friend these days. "Poppy, the bunker is my home. Please don't insult it," I said in a deliberately hurt tone.

"Um…" She stalled. I smirked as the young princess fidgeted, trying to figure out a positive way phrase what she wanted to say. "I'm sorry. That was rude of me. It's just that I'm…making a scrapbook about different types of homes."

I raised an eyebrow. "Suure you are."

"Yeah, you know; trolls live in pods, birds live in nests, that sort of thing. I, uh, wanted to include a home like yours, but I'm having trouble deciding how I should portray it. For example, I'm guessing it's, um, not super bright down there, huh?"

"It's seriously not super bright," I agreed with a straight face. "Like, pitch black. I have to use my hair to feel where I'm going."

Her eyes widened. "Really?"

I held my serious expression for a few seconds, waiting for her to catch on. Instead she asked innocently, "Why don't you just use your hair to light your way?"

"Maybe because I planted glowshrooms," I said, deadpan.

She blinked at me. Then it finally sunk in. "Branch!" she scolded. Then she perked up. "Hey! Did you just make a joke?"

I felt a smile tugging at my lips at the sheer delight on her face. "I've always made jokes." I crossed my arms, my nose in the air. "It's just that most people don't get my sense of humor."

I cracked open an eye to see her grinning at me. "You mean sarcasm, don't you?"

"Sophisticated humor at its finest." I winked at her, and she laughed.

"All right, Branch. As long as you don't feel too claustrophobic down there," she said, still fishing for information.

I made a sound of amusement before I could stop myself. Claustrophobic! My bunker already had twice the space of a pod, and would have many times more by the time I was finished. I could store five -no, ten years' worth of supplies if I wanted. Maybe more.

But I wasn't about to volunteer anything that might make her more curious, so I merely shrugged. "It's worth it. It's so much safer underground. The bergens will never find me there. Everyone should have a bunker of their own, you know. Bunkers are seriously underrated."

"Yeah…" She laughed awkwardly. I could see she didn't believe me.

Well, that's not my problem anymore. I shrugged again. "It's your loss."

-O-

With an exciting new long-term project to throw myself into, I did my best to bury the memories of the trolls who had once been so important to me. As the months passed, it got easier.

Every day I felt more content with my new life. I had everything I needed, and nothing I didn't. I was living in my dream home, creating new and wonderful things every day. Poppy's daily visits made me feel connected to the rest of the village without it feeling burdensome. I even looked forward to seeing her. I honestly felt like I had the best of both worlds.

But the world isn't made of cupcakes and rainbows. Eventually my near-idyllic life had to come to an end.

One day Poppy's normal exuberance seemed a little forced, so I asked her what was wrong. At first she tried to act like it wasn't important, but eventually I got her to admit that she was stressing out over a heavier workload than usual. Her dad had a cold, so she was pulling double-duty.

"Gee, that's tough," I said, not sarcastically for once. "I know how it feels when work starts piling up. Is there anything I can help you with?" I doubted it, since most of Poppy's "work" involved people and feelings, not tools or supplies. But I wanted to make the offer, just in case. "Do you need anything from the forest?"

"No, what I really need is…" She hesitated.

"What is it?"

"More time." Then she looked at me meekly. "I'm really sorry, but would you mind if I sent your mail to you by post-bug for a while?"

She's leaving me!

Stunned, I froze. Such a simple query, yet it hit me like a lightning bolt. Maybe because I hadn't expected it. Poppy's friendship had been one of the few constants I'd never questioned, no matter where I lived or who else I had in my life at the time. But then, everything else in my life had changed. Why should this be any different?

It seemed that the time had come for that last goodbye after all.

"It'll only be for a little while," she added apologetically.

When I didn't answer, she looked closer. "Branch? You okay?"

I realized that I was panting, and my heart was starting to pound. A strange tingling went up the back of my neck, making me shiver. I became aware that my hands and ears were freezing, and my shiver became a shudder.

I have no idea what my face looked like, but her eyes widened in shock. "Branch? Don't freak out. I'm sorry!" She waved her hands at me, almost in a panic herself. "Never mind – forget I asked. I'll figure it out somehow."

Get it together, Branch. I squeezed my eyes shut and began to take long, slow, deep breaths, trying to calm down. To accept one more loss. I should have expected it, after all. I'd been stupid to think it wouldn't happen.

Poppy continued to talk, but I didn't bother to listen, shifting my attention to my body's needs. I blocked everything out, counting the seconds of each breath. I focused on the warm sun, letting it soak into my rigid muscles while I consciously relaxed them. You're okay. With or without her, you'll be all right. You don't need her. You can take care of yourself. You always have. You'll be just fine…

Eventually Poppy said worriedly, "Branch? You okay?"

Feeling a little better now, I managed to answer more or less calmly. "Yeah. I'm okay." Though my world had upended once again, I knew what to do. I'd been through this enough times to know my role well. "Listen, it's fine. You don't have to come." I heard my voice crack and cleared my dry throat. "I know you're super busy. Besides, I… I could use the extra time to get more work done."

She gave me a guilty look. "It's not fine, but I just don't know what else to do," she said miserably. Her voice was trembling.

I noticed then that she looked exhausted. She had dark circles under her eyes, her hair was frazzled, and for the first time I could remember, her ears were starting to droop. A pang of concern passed through me. She might be the princess, but she's also only twelve years old. What is the king thinking?

"Oh, Poppy." Instinctively I opened my arms. "Come here." She blinked, then threw herself against me. She even let out a little whimper, stirring up old memories of comforting Acorn. "Shhhh… It's okay. It's okay, little one," I murmured gently.

"Braaanch," she moaned, clinging tightly to me. I could feel her heart beating a little faster than it should be. Her whole body was stiff and tight. Was this how I felt when the other trolls hugged me?

"Take a minute to relax, Poppy." I began to rub her back, hoping to soothe her as I had once soothed a small gray trolling.

It seemed to help. All at once she pulled in a big deep breath, her body expanding in my arms until it all came out in a long sigh that seemed to take the tension with it. Her little body went soft and heavy against me. "Tough day?" I asked sympathetically.

"It's… It's a lot," she admitted, her voice all muffled from where her face was squashed against my chest.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She needed no further encouragement. I stayed quiet while she told me about her problems, occasionally stoking a hand over her back and letting her draw whatever comfort she could from my big warm body.

I knew all about tough days. Until just recently, every day was a tough day.

It was ironic, really. For the first time in a long, long time, I was better off than someone else. I was able to live my life pretty much the way I wanted, doing the work I loved without interference. Not that Poppy disliked her work, but with an entire village to run, of course she'd get swamped sometimes. She'd even had to resort to multi-tasking, she told me, even though that meant she couldn't live fully in the moment to enjoy life's experiences. "But that's okay," she said. "I'm going to be queen someday. Good queens make sacrifices for their people."

While I appreciated her dedication, I didn't like seeing her so tuckered out that she'd even lost her bounce. Unfortunately, there wasn't much I could do to help her…except make a sacrifice of my own.

I sighed in defeat. I knew what I had to do. The same thing I always had to do, sooner or later. I had to let her go, no matter how much I didn't want to. That was just the way life was, whether I liked it or not.

Suppressing a whimper of my own, I buried my face in her soft, sweet-scented hair, soaking up the memory of this hug. For all I knew, it was the last one I would ever get. I didn't enjoy most hugs, but I liked Poppy's. I didn't know if I could live completely hugless forever, but I knew it was time to grow up and stop depending on others to lift me up. They had other priorities, and now that I had my bunker, so did I. I was in a good place now, literally and emotionally. I'd finally managed to free myself from the burdens of village life, while poor Poppy would only gain more obligations as time went on. I felt sorry for her. The least I could do was take one of those obligations off her plate.

It was time.

I spoke up before I could lose my resolve. "Poppy, you really don't have to come here anymore. I'm good. Really."

She let go of me, insisting, "No, Branch, I promised you I'd come to see you every day, and I will."

"Actually, you didn't promise," I pointed out. "Not that I don't appreciate it, but it's really not necessary."

"Uh, no offense, Branch, but it totally is," she contradicted, setting her hands on her hips and rolling her eyes.

I started to argue back, then frowned as I noticed that her eyes were nearly as bloodshot as the time she'd had pinkeye. "Wait, have you been skipping sleep?"

She froze guiltily. When she opened her mouth to answer, I cut her off before she could lie to me. "Poppy, nothing is more important than your health," I scolded. "Especially now, with your dad out of action. What if you get sick, too? What were you thinking?"

"I know, but what else am I gonna do, Branch?" she snapped. "Everyone's counting on me! I can't just walk away like you!"

I gasped. I couldn't have been more crushed if she'd taken a mallet and smashed me with it.

She slapped her hands over her mouth, shocked at herself. "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry, Branch! I didn't mean it!"

Hurting now, I narrowed my eyes. So it was going to be this kind of parting. Well then, fine. "I didn't ask you to come here, you know," I said coldly. "You decided to do that on your own. But I am asking you to leave." I pointed in the direction of the village. "Go home!"

"Branch, I'm sor-"

"I know you think I need you, but I don't. I don't need you. I don't need anyone. I can take care of myself. I always have, so don't worry about me. Because from where I'm standing, you're the one who needs to take better care of yourself!" I shot back.

She opened her mouth, then closed it in frustration. What could she say? I was right, and she knew it. Finally she stomped a foot on the ground and stalked off. At the edge of the clearing she tossed over her shoulder, "When things settle down, I'm coming back. You can't stop me!"

"I'm fine!" I yelled after her, then stopped as a flash of embarrassment hit me. Sometimes I said the wrong thing during fights when my emotions were all stirred up. Stuff that didn't make sense. I should have said, "'Don't come back,' or maybe "I can too stop you! My bunker has all kinds of defenses." Except those were for bergens. I might be mad at her, but I'd never use them on a troll.

By the time I realized I could have threatened her with, "I'll tell your dad you've been skipping sleep!" she was gone.

Dreamsinger's Corner:

Poppy's "I take care of my friends" quote is from the first Trolls Holiday special.

I was exploring the idea of how it would feel to suddenly be living in almost complete isolation with no chance to socialize when it occurred to me that living through a global pandemic did a pretty good job of making most people feel similar to Branch. We do take the ability to socialize for granted, as Branch did. Also, loneliness can cause a lot of emotional problems like anxiety, depression, anger issues. Branch was indeed lonely after Leafe left. When Poppy began visiting him every day, his mood improved as his loneliness lessened.

Nowhere are Branch's abandonment issues more apparent than when Poppy mentions that she needs to stop coming "for a little while" and his knee-jerk response is "She's leaving me!" That wasn't true, but it was enough to trigger him and cause him to start to have an anxiety attack before his concern for Poppy overrode everything else. But the damage was done. Like with his past relationships, he decided if he's going to lose her, he'd rather have control over how it happens. A self-fulfilling prophesy. Thankfully, their bond is too strong to keep them apart for long.