To preface this story, I have a few things I want to say. To begin with, Trolls are not like humans. That much is clear, as far as I can tell, and does not need to explained further in any amount of detail. From their hairstyles that seem to have lives of their own, to their brightly coloured fuzzy skin, they are not like us. Besides all this, is a most peculiar but relatively unknown divergence that seems to separate them from us in an extreme way. Like the seahorse and the pipefish, it is not the mother Troll who gives birth to young, but the father.

So where does that leave us in terms of this particular story? Well, I suppose you're just going to have to read it and find out.

Enjoy x

Every morning at around 7:30am, the sun rose to just the right height to shine through a window in the trunk of the Troll Tree. In the winter, it was later, and in the summer it was earlier, but it always rose without fail. And without fail every morning, the light would wake Branch and Poppy. When they had moved into the hollow months ago, it was a purposeful decision to place the bed facing the window. To Poppy, nothing was better than waking up fresh and early in the morning to soft light streaming into the domed room. Branch had been less enthusiastic. Years of living in his bunker far from natural light had made it hard for him to adjust, but somehow he had managed it. For Poppy.

Groggily, Branch rolled over to plant a kiss on his partner's forehead. She had not yet come to, and sighed softly, snuggling in close to his chest. Her breath was warm and sweet on his neck, and though her eyes were still closed, he could tell that she was slowly waking up. He held her gently in his arms and sighed to himself, closing his eyes and pulling the blanket up to their shoulders to shield them from the cool morning air that blew lazily into the room. After a minute or two, he felt Poppy's arms tighten around his waist, evidence that she had finally woken up. He smiled a little and opened his eyes too, glancing down at her. She was so adorable first thing in the morning, he thought to himself. The way her pink hair stuck out sideways in cotton-candy tufts was perfection. Perhaps to another Troll, it would be messy, unruly. But to Branch… well… he wouldn't change a thing.

As he gazed down at her, her eyes blinked up to meet his. She smiled serenely up at him, yawned, and closed her eyes again. So perhaps she wasn't fully awake after all.

With a soft chuckle, he sleepily pulled himself from her embrace, encountering barely any resistance at all, and shook the curls out from his dark blue tuft. He stretched slowly, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a moment, before turning and walking out into the hallway and down the roughly carved wooden steps. The day was warm and cloudless, and provided the perfect setting for picking some berries for breakfast.

Exiting the trunk of the tree and walking out onto a branch, he glanced up. Dozens of pods hung above his head, and as he walked, he identified each pod's owner. There was Biggie's pod, dark and sky blue, Smidge's pod, yellow and blue, and Cooper's pod, pink and elongated. He smiled to himself and, when he reached the blueberry plant growing in it's pot, reached up to pick two ripe ones. With their weight balanced in the crook of one arm, he turned to walk back along the branch to the tree. The sun was rising higher in the sky now, and he could see from his position on the high branch nearly the entirety of Bergen Town. The town had seemed to brighten up within days of the trolls returning to the Troll Tree, and now, months later, even the buildings themselves seemed more alive with colour than they had ever been before.

With a flick of his dark blue hair, he began to hum to himself, his step falling into rhythm with the song.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey." As he quietly sung to himself, he thought of Poppy. She really was his sunshine.

A clatter awoke Poppy from her gentle dozing. She huffed, eyes still closed, and reached out a hand in an attempt to locate her boyfriend. But… where was he? She could've sworn he was there only a moment ago.

She stifled a yawn and opened her eyes just a little. So she must've fallen back asleep. Branch was certainly not in bed, but she hadn't noticed him leaving. By now, the light that had streamed into the room and woken the couple the first time around was higher in the sky, and the slanted light threw the room in gentle relief. Still, the soft sunlight felt harsh and far too bright for Poppy's tired eyes. With a groan, she rolled over and stretched, and then sat up.

Where had that clatter come from? It must've been Branch, she supposed, but what on earth was he doing so early?

Poppy swung her legs around to the side of the bed and stood, taking a moment to stretch once more, and then turned to walk out of the room and down the wooden carved staircase. Reaching the bottom, she turned left into the kitchen. There was Branch, ever studious, knelt over a little stove. He was in the process of poking the fire beneath it with a pair of tongs. Beside him sat a pan, a jug of what looked to be batter, and a bowl of chopped blueberries.

"What are you doing?"

With a start, Branches head whipped up. After a moment of startled eye contact, he relaxed. He was still as jumpy as a newborn rabbit. Years of hiding in the bunker had had that effect on him, but he was working on it, and that's all that mattered.

"I was.. Uh.." He attempted to covertly push the ingredients behind his back, but it was too late.

"You're cooking something aren't you?" Poppy's gentle smile was playful, and she sat beside him on the floor as she spoke.

"Uh.. yeah. I was going to make blueberry pancakes for our breakfast-" he bought the ingredients out from behind his back. "-but I wanted it to be a surprise." His ears drooped just a little as he spoke.

"I'm sorry. If I'd had known, I would've stayed upstairs." She gently kissed him on the cheek. "But now that I'm down here, maybe we can make them together."

"I'd like that a lot." He smiled crookedly, and she beamed back at him.

She loved to cook with him. Neither of them were very good, but to her the fun wasn't the finished product, but in making a mess.

"Alright, let's get started then!" Poppy got to her feet and picked up the pan off the floor, placing it on the stove. As Branch occupied himself with keeping the fire stoked and hot, Poppy dropped a dollop of butter in the pan and watched as it sizzled merrily away.

"Okay, It's ready for the batter!" She announced, picking up the jug. Branch stood beside her, arms crossed, and watched as she carefully poured some of the batter into the pan. It sizzled and popped in a satisfying way, and the two trolls stood together and watched.

After a minute or so, Branch bent to pick up a spatula from it's spot beside the stove and began unsticking the pancake from the pan.

"What do you think, Poppy. Should I flip it?" He asked her playfully, glancing over his shoulder to meet her eyes.

"Oh yes! I'd love to see that!" She exclaimed excitedly. Perhaps if he was successful, she would have a go next.

Once he had unstuck the pancake, Branch stepped back and, with a flick of his wrist, swung the pan up into the air. The pancake went flying, and somehow in its descent back to earth, missed the pan entirely.

Poppy succumbed to a fit of giggles at the sight of Branch, hair pushed to the side with the weight of a pancake balanced on it. He sniffed indignantly, eyes narrowed at his girlfriend. It didn't last long, however, as after a minute he too began to laugh. The sound of their laughter filled the kitchen and seemed to bounce off the walls.

After several giggly minutes, Poppy had calmed down enough to reach up and pluck the pancake off Branch's mop of blue hair. She threw it back into the pan, and with a few more small giggles, stepped toward him and gave him a hug. He bought his arms up and returned it, and both trolls hummed happily, warm in the embrace.

"But that pancake is yours." Poppy whispered in his ear.