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It had been a pretty boring day, overall. Poppy had shown up around noon, exhausted, just as Branch was coming back in from some gardening he’d been doing around the base of the tree. It was amazing, when they’d first come and were settling in, how few of the trolls had remembered how to garden. Some of the older ones offered tips here and there, and sure there were 2 or 3 trolls who gardened as a skill, but for the most part 20 years of eating cupcakes and wild growing berries had left a majority of their tribe bereft of any of the gardening talents of the older generation.
Branch had picked up a bit here and there, a few things from his grandmother, a few things from books, and the rest had been trial and error. You tend to teach yourself a lot when you’re creating an underground emergency bunker. Having sustainable food was something he’d tried his hardest to master, and it had transferred over to the simple gardening tasks here rather well. So well, in fact that he often ended up giving impromptu lessons anytime someone managed to catch him down there. It was nice that the others were making an effort to talk to him and treat him nicely, but 20 years had made him a loner at heart, even if he enjoyed the company of a few every now and then.
So Branch’s blue hands were a dusty brown when he reached the entryway to his home, only to find the door already partially open, a blur of pink and blue moving throughout the room inside. The first time she’d broken in to his place, he’d been surprised, even a little flustered. That novelty had long since passed, but he still got a tingling along the back of his neck, knowing she had come to see him.
“Poppy, what are you doing now?” he grumbled through the opening, stomping his feet on the rug outside. The last of the mud and dust clouded around him. Poppy appeared at the door in an instant, a wide, toothy grin spread across her face. He had to stop himself from grinning back, but he allowed a small smile, and reached out to put a hand on the door fame, lift a foot, and brush it off with his free hand.
“Good to see you too Branch!” she said, pulling the door back the rest of the way to make room for him to squeeze through. “Would you believe I came just to see your bright, sunshiny face?” He snorted and walked through the doorway. Their arms brushed lightly, and it sent a static energy across his chest. He peeked at her face, wondering if she’d felt it too, but she was too busy shutting the door for him to catch her eyes. She was avoiding his gaze now, her shoulders tense and hunched. Suddenly he was sure what she’d come for.
“What happened now?” he asked, quietly, his expression growing softer, his body leaning towards her ever so slightly. Poppy turned from the door and walked into his arms without hesitation, pressing her face into his neck. He wrapped himself around her, not questioning the sudden intimacy. It had only grown since the first few times they’d hugged, especially when they were alone, and he didn’t want to argue with it. It was so cathartic for him, and more importantly, it was so important for her. He could tell, she didn’t need to say it out loud.
“I think I really messed up this time, Branch,” she mumbled into his throat. He shivered at how warm her breath was on his skin, and his arms tightened just a bit more around her. Poppy shut her eyes and sighed, letting her body relax against his. “I shouldn’t bug you with it.”
“Whatever it is, I’m sure you can find the solution,” he mumbled, tilting his head slightly to speak into her ear. She shivered and giggled, then settled again. “If anyone can, it’s you.”
Diplomacy with the bergens had not been the fairy tale ending they’d been hoping for. Despite dropping the strange desire to eat the trolls, the bergens were still stuck in many of their ways. Poppy, having been decreed Queen, ended up being in the forefront of many of the issues between the two co-existing groups. It was not going smoothly, and oftentimes she’d end up here, a tired look in her eyes. Branch had nothing to offer but himself, and she seemed more than happy with that.
Her hair tickled the side of his face. She tilted her head to look up at him, a small frown on her lips. Perhaps it was his experience with unhappiness that made her feel comfortable giving herself to him in this way. Her positivity was her trademark. It was hard for Poppy to consider breaking down that wall with someone else. And it wasn’t as if she whined and chewed his ear off. Many times it was simply this. Warmth, companionship. Holding her in his arms while she decompressed and let herself relax against his chest. She spoke when she felt like it, and he didn’t push her to talk.
Something tickled inside his chest and Branch swallowed hard, trying hard to look into her eyes, but losing nerve again and again. Her eyes were something he could never quite come to terms with. They were gorgeous, vibrant, somehow containing all her fury and strength, alongside her love and forgiveness. They made him weak. Branch knelt all at once, scooping an arm under her knees and lifting her up against his chest.
“B-Branch!” she cried out, her arms tightening around his shoulders. After a moment he began to move to the couch on the other side of the room. She giggled softly, kicking her feet like a little kid. He had to struggle to hold her up, but he couldn’t help laughing along with her. They plopped down on the couch, she across his lap, and she curled into him like a kitten, still giggling. “You’re ridiculous! You should have warned me!”
“You would have tried to get a piggyback ride instead,” he teased, leaning back into the couch. It was old and soft and worn from use. When he was a child he could jump all along the back of it, smashing down the stitched-on cushions and getting fussed at by his grandmother.
Poppy grumbled playfully and bopped his stomach lightly with a closed fist. He gave a grunt of feigned pain and proceeded to tickle her until she was squealing, tears spilling over and sparkling on her face. When he finally stopped she was struggling to breathe in between the laughter and shouting at him.
“Uncle!” she gasped, still laughing. He grinned, unable to stop himself, and brushed back the hair from her face that had fallen out of her headband. She peeked out at him from beneath his hand, smiling, and he leaned in and gave her forehead a quick kiss. He might have been embarrassed if she hadn’t acted so exceptionally Poppy about it.
“Eep! I said Uncle!” she cried, flailing at him and trying to look upset.
“Oh, does this tickle?’ Branch teased, and kissed her forehead again, before blowing a raspberry against her skin. She erupted in laughter, punching at his chest and trying her best to wriggle away.
“Branch! Noooo! Branch! Stooop!” When he pulled away she had her eyes closed and was still giggling, and she brought her hands up to cover her face in a sweeping motion, her body pressing against him with the shift. He settled back again and watched her regain composure, chuckling quietly to himself. It took a moment, but he didn’t mind.
Branch loved watching the way she moved. Everything seemed so unplanned, so charismatic. Even at times like these when she was tired, she was always so alive and full of… energy? Happiness? He couldn’t quite put his finger on the word, but it was magical, and he could never get enough of it.
“Sometimes,” she spoke from beneath her hands, suddenly quite sober. “Sometimes I wish I wasn’t Queen.”
He didn’t say anything, letting the words drift between them and giving her the opportunity to say more if she wanted. She lowered her hands and studied his face. He wasn’t smiling now, just watching her. She wasn’t smiling either. To Branch, she just looked tired. Tired of everything but him, in this moment, her eyes scanning his face. She reached up and used her thumb to brush some dirt from his face, and he let her, still not saying anything.
When she cupped her hand against his cheek, he found himself finally able to look into her eyes. They were so beautiful, glistening with the tears of her laughter, gently curved, her long lashes hiding the deeper details. He wanted to pull her face to his and study it forever, but at the same time he knew he’d never have the courage.
“Can you teach me how to garden?’ Her eyes were slowly closing. He reached an arm behind her shoulders and shifted to cradle her. “I want to grow flowers.”
“What kind of flowers?” he said, brushing some hair back from her face and behind her ear. She shrugged.
“Pretty ones,” she answered, closing her eyes and resting her head on his shoulder.
“Of course,” he said, smiling. “How could I not have known that?”
A moment of silence passed between them, and he began to hum, then sing. “Did you know that there are seven seas? Nothing separating you and me.” She shifted sleepily, humming along with him, but not singing. She loved his voice. It carried her, shed her of everything. Poppy imagined becoming a ball of light within herself, and every layer pulling away to expose more of her, until the light was all the was left, warm and glowing. “I will love you till my days are done. Cuz darling you are my only one.”
His voice wavered for a moment. She felt him begin to absentmindedly tap in time against her shoulder. Then Branch sang again. “Now the days are longer. I promise I believe in you.” His eyes moved down her body, starting at her ears and following the curve of her shoulder, her waist, her knees curled into his side. “Chasing dreams till we reach them. It’s what we were meant to do.”
Poppy could see the light growing brighter, pulsing, changing through a palette of gentle, calming colors. Branch’s eyes settled on her ankles, then her toes, before following the trail back up again. “If there’s one thing I remember, you were always on my side. And from now until forever, I will love you for all time.”
She had stopped humming. He could feel her breathing become deeper and more rhythmic. He watched her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks, listened to her sleep. It was like music to him in its own way, and he could listen for quite a while, studying the gorgeous intricacies of her face without fear of being caught. He wondered what sorts of things the future held for them, good and bad. He considered all the ways he could tell her how he felt, how he really felt, and all the ways she could reject him.
For now, he was content to be this for her. To be of use to someone, but especially to her. After a bit he settled back and started to run through flowers in his head. He was determined, they would grow the prettiest flowers the world had ever seen.