-O-

PICTUREBOOK ROMANCE

A Trolls fanfic

By Dreamsinger

After a strange dream, Poppy's inadvertent advances toward our favorite aquamarine troll meet with unexpected success. These are the tales of the awkward, tender, early days of the romance between a troll queen and her beloved.

This story is rated teen just in case, but I am trying to write it with the same sort of innocent tone to romance that the movie gives off - tell me if I've succeeded, will you?

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

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…

-O-

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 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 was happy, preparing 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, and 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 with impressively large hands and feet that looked deceptively clumsy, yet his movements were quick and precise, like his clever mind. He was handsome too, she'd noticed, 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-cat as he used to be. He'd grown so much in the past few months; she couldn't help but be proud of her friend.

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

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

She beamed at him, her eyes shining.

Branch read her face and his ears pressed back against his head for a moment before resuming their characteristic outward tilt. His shoulders sagged and he rolled his eyes, his tone resigned as he asked, "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 opened her mouth to ask him how he liked the bubble bath, noting from the sweet smell in the air that he'd chosen the vanilla-scented soap, but stopped as she heard him singing bits and pieces of a song she didn't know. It was a beautiful song, about learning to grow and change and the joys of having a certain someone by his side. She 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. 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.

And every time he 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.

The pink troll closed her eyes to listen, 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, with his dark purple hair still 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, then held still as she slid her hand down his moist, downy skin, pleased by its texture. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back slightly, his muscles bunching as she slowly stroked across his shoulders, then continued downward, gently exploring. His hair gradually 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 and then shrugged, deciding to ignore the slight sharpness in his tone. "You have very nice muscles," she complimented him earnestly, moving around in front of him and placing both hands on his chest, noting the firmness beneath her fingers. "All that working out you do is really paying off." She looked up to smile cheerfully at him, 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 for a long moment. She sensed that he was waiting for her to say something, and her brow wrinkled in confusion.

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.

What had she been doing before he got upset? Touching him, stroking him, her hands pressing against 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 other trolls if he never let them see the real him? - when the awkwardness of his position finally registered and she suddenly recalled some things her father had once told her about male trolls that she had promptly dismissed from her mind.

Branch was a male, a very handsome one. And while she had a lot of male friends, only Creek the traitor had ever caught her eye, a fact that she tried very hard not to think about. It was one of the few things that truly upset the young queen. Her father had told her that it was natural for trolls who cared about one another to want to touch each other; that the stronger the feeling, the more they would want to touch, even to rub their entire bodies together and do other things to make them feel connected to the one they loved most.

At the time she had imagined Creek declaring his undying love for her and wanting to be that close to her, but it had never happened, something that had disappointed her at the time but which she was fervently glad about now.

Branch was his polar opposite. Surely she wasn't thinking about him in the same way? 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 Dad said 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 few seconds, he resumed drying himself off.

She stood there, simultaneously wanting to look at him and wanting to look anywhere else but at him, and 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.

I need to think.

Yes, they had bonded during their adventure and she had come to love him, her oddly mature/immature best troll-friend, but was that the only reason they had spent so much time together lately? Or why she caught herself admiring his body 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?

Could it be? A vague memory of the dream she'd awakened from this morning resurfaced and she sat down on her bed, pressing her teeth thoughtfully into her knuckles. Maybe she'd suspected her feelings for him might be different from the love she had for every troll in her village, but 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.

As for Branch, his reaction just now…what had it meant? Had he just been embarrassed because of what her touch had done to him? Or did he feel something more for her?

While she knew full well that he loved her as a friend, he'd never said he was attracted to her; never did 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 thought the poem he'd quoted for Bridget to repeat had been about her, but as time passed and he'd only treated her like a good friend she had put such thoughts aside, deciding that 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 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 did. She was tempted to just let him go, to pretend that this had never happened, but there was no taking it back. And 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 to talk 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.

-O-

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

I refer to both the Trolls Holiday special and the Trolla-palooza short, as well as the series, but since no one seems to know for sure whether Trolls: The Beat Goes On is canon, I decided to be vague about referring to specific incidents that occur in the Trolls: The Beat Goes On series, just in case. Mostly, I use the series as a way to get a better understanding of the characters' personalities and likely behavior in different scenarios.

I decided that when Branch refers to "taking a bath" while he's talking about his "bunker list" in the episode "Model Behavior", he's talking about bubble baths, not regular baths or showers. In both the series and the concept art, such as in the Trolls art book, it clearly shows he has a bathroom and bathing/swimming pool, plus we see him hand-washing his vest (and showing off his muscles) in that same episode, so it's doubtful he doesn't bathe.

Trolls do seem to have a rather casual attitude about nudity, at least around each other. The glitter trolls don't wear clothes, and Biggie is seen without pants in Trolls Holiday (albeit with pixilation blocking our view, so we don't know for sure whether different types of male trolls other than glitter trolls have visible private parts) so I figured neither Branch nor Poppy would particularly care about seeing each other naked unless it got serious, which it did when Poppy inadvertently made Branch aroused. They do seem to feel differently about seeing bergens naked, however, according to the series.

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!