Yes, there’s more! And there will likely be even more, which is why this is now on my ao3 here.
Part one (with art) and part two on tumblr
There’s a read more link below, which I have to point out, as tumblr likes to make that invisible for some of you.
*
“Are you sure we cannot climb the rest of the way?” Adam said. His pale face peered out from the dark hole in the branch. He seemed to keep very still, but the feather atop his head quivered and shook. “I know I do not have your talent for it but I think it can be done.”
Nigel held his hand out for the faery to take, hoping to encourage him to step out into the dappled sunlight. But Adam didn’t see; he was wholly occupied by staring first at Darko’s fierce beak, and then at his long yellow toes tipped with powerful talons, and back again.
“This is the top of the bole,” Nigel said, moving in between Adam’s frightened gaze and Darko. “Upwards from here the branches grow thinner and thinner, and dwindle away into soft green twigs. The ivy does not grow high enough to ease your passage and, even were I alone, Darko is the better option.”
“The better option,” Adam repeated to himself in a disbelieving fashion, craning his neck to look round Nigel and keep watch of Darko.
Nigel held his hand out again, closer this time, so Adam couldn’t miss it. He looked at his open palm and then up at Nigel’s face. “Darko’s roost is in my tree,” Nigel said. “He eats nothing which lives here and heeds my command. You are perfectly safe.”
Adam swallowed but climbed slowly out of the shelter of the hole. His grip on Nigel’s fingers was near painful. “If you say so, it must be true,” said Adam. “You’ve been very hospitable so far. Nevertheless, it is not easy to believe.”
“I will be with you,” Nigel said, and squeezed Adam’s hand. Even through his fright it was cool, his fingers twining with Nigel’s like little white roots.
“You will be with me,” Adam repeated again, and would not let go of Nigel’s hand even when Darko bent his head and Nigel climbed onto his back.
Nigel used the tight grip on his hand to pull Adam up to sit before him. He judged it best to not give Adam much time for thought so, with a click of his heels, Darko spread his wings and launched them all into the air. Adam gave a squeak and pitched himself forward, hiding his face in the soft feathers around Darko’s neck. Nigel had to lean over his back and check he was not in danger of slipping.
“Like this,” he said, showing Adam where to place his arms and legs so it would not impede Darko’s wings. “Lean forward into the wind and close your eyes if you must. Don’t hold on too hard, either - Darko knows where he’s going so there’s no need to try and steer.”
He laughed and slipped an arm around Adam, tucking himself close around him. Adam squeaked again, but pressed gratefully back into Nigel’s chest. Short as it was, he kept his eyes shut and his mouth closed for the whole journey. Darko’s flight was efficient and the distance from the middle to the top of the tree was not far if one had wings. Only when he landed neatly, on the old broken branch which poked through the crown, would Adam look up.
Nigel helped him down from Darko’s back, and said, “That was not so bad, was it?”
Adam’s legs wobbled a little and he sat down quite heavily. He still had hold of Nigel’s hand and almost unbalanced Nigel too. “No,” he said, to his knees. “I can think of several ways that could have been much worse.” He jumped when Darko opened his wings and flew off without a backward glance. “Where is he going? Are we stranded here? How will we get down?”
Nigel sat beside him, dangling his legs over the tip of the branch. Though the sky was still light, the gathering dusk was obvious when one looked below, down into the heart of the tree. The dark seemed to grow between the clustered leaves and spread outwards, into the evening air. “Of course not - didn’t I promise you my protection?” Nigel said. “You worry too much. Darko cannot hunt at night and will want to feed before darkness falls. He will be back when I call.”
“He looks very much like the sparrowhawk who took nearly all of a mouse family who lived by my bank,” Adam said. “I hope the rest of them are safe tonight.”
“To those not acquainted with them, one sparrowhawk does look much like another,” Nigel said. “But it seems likely it was him, being so close.”
Adam gave a little moan of sadness, and Nigel squeezed his fingers. “Maybe we can work something out,” he said. “A treaty between my tree and your bank, for our mutual benefit.”
“You really think so?” Adam said.
“Why, yes!” Nigel said, warming to the idea even as it grew. “There must be lots of advantages - we could share our produce, and have more things to trade. Those meadow elves drive a hard bargain - you must leave them to me.”
“I’ve never met a meadow elf,” Adam said. “They don’t pass over my bank. I don’t think I’d mind not speaking to one.”
“That’s settled then,” said Nigel. “We will go over the finer points later, when we are more comfortable.” The sky had deepened in hue somewhat, and a few early stars were beginning to peep out. Birdsong rang out around them as roosts were returned to and greetings and goodnights were given. “How long do you want to be up here for?”
“I don’t know,” Adam said. “Usually, I stay until I get sleepy, and then later I dream of being wrapped in a blanket of stars, not wool.”
Nigel smiled at him, and said, rather fondly, “What kind of ground faery dreams of the stars? It seems very out of keeping.”
“I don’t agree,” Adam said, sticking out his chin. “At night, the view from the top of my bank is a carpet of stars and everything else is hidden in thickest night. They are the roof over all our heads and it’s natural for everyone to enjoy it.”
The birdsong began to fall silent, and so did Adam. The frown slipped away from his face too, and he turned it upwards expectantly. Above their heads, more and more stars winked into existence, bright and twinkling, until there were too many to count.
“Do you enjoy it?” Adam whispered, after a moment. His head was tipped up in wonder, lips shaped in a wide and happy smile.
Nigel looked up also and tried to see what Adam saw, but could not. It was nice enough, but couldn’t hold his attention for long. He kept losing his place - one patch of sky was very similar to another - and then his thoughts would wander and he would find himself no longer looking at the stars, but gazing off unfocused into the middle distance.
What he did look at, with predictable regularity, was Adam. And when he did, he thought more clearly, about chance meetings and the pleasures of the unexpected. Adam’s pale skin shone under the rising moon, and his hair, dark and soft, could have been woven from the twilight itself. Nigel remembered the feel of his cool skin when he’d held him safe on Darko; his chest smooth where Nigel has thick tufts of hair.
He still held Adam’s hand in his own.
“You’re not looking.” Adam’s frown had returned. “You came all this way with me and you don’t want to see?”
Nigel thought a little, and smiled when he found his decision already made, just waiting for him to act upon it. “There are things other than stars I would rather look at,” he said. “Things I find more interesting and just as lovely.”
“Like what?” Adam said. “What could be better than a sky like this on a warm summer night?”
“Something which lives happily on the solid earth but would not rest until it had climbed my tree to get closer to the stars.” Nigel shifted, so near he could feel Adam’s breath along his cheek. “Something very stubborn and very brave indeed.”
Even in the dim light, Adam’s flush was obvious. “Oh,” he said, in a small shocked voice. “I see.”
“Do you?” Nigel asked. “Do you know what I will say next?”
Adam shook his head. “I don’t ever seem to know that. You are quite surprising.”
Nigels smile grew wider and, he hoped, softer. He brought his free hand to Adam’s jaw and touched it lightly. “Let me show you, then.”
Adam nodded slowly, so Nigel bent and kissed him. His lips were velvety smooth, and they parted just a little under Nigel’s.
There they stayed, kissing sweetly on a broken branch under the sky, until it was time to come down again.
*
Darko waited patiently on the hedge by Adam’s burrow. Adam stood before the entrance, doing his best to avoid holding Nigel’s gaze. But Nigel was far from discouraged, especially when Adam smiled so secretly to himself and his preferred object of focus was their still-joined hands.
“Goodbye, little faery,” Nigel said. “Or, at least, goodbye for now. For I hope the next time I find you sitting in my tree you will have no desire to hide from me.”
Adam shook his head. “I cannot believe I will,” he said, shyly. “Not after you were so hospitable.”
Nigel grinned with delight. “It is your turn next,” he said. “Do you remember suggesting I should consider a sheep’s wool blanket? I have thought on it and you may be correct. I hope one day, very soon, you will invite me to see yours. I will need to make a very thorough comparison with my thistledown.”
Adam blushed hotly, and Nigel laughed and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Though I may be dreaming of wool tonight, I hope you sleep well in your blanket of stars.”
On ao3 here
@devereauxsdisease @electrarhodes @pangaeastarseed @byk23 @thisismydesignhannibal tagging as you were all interested in previous parts :)
for @theseavoices and to go with her perfect hannigram spacedogs art (which you can see with part one - link below)
thanks to all who left kind comments - i know @devereauxsdisease @fragile-teacup @pangaeastarseed in particular asked for more, so here it is :)
*
part one over here
The journey was a long one. Nigel knew how to use vines and tendrils, the fissures in the bark, to move as he wished through the tree. But the little faery - Adam - was much more unsure.
He worried the vines would snap, or the bark would crumble. The higher they went, the more afraid he was to fall. In the end, Nigel showed him how the plants obeyed him - when he reached out a hand, a creeper reached back and wound itself around securely around his wrist.
“All the things which call this tree home,” Nigel said, “must answer to me. In return, I give them protection. No deer nibble leaves from the lower branches and no crow steals eggs from its nests. So you have no reason to be afraid, as long as you are with me.”
Adam pursed his lips unhappily, and peered at the thick and crowding leaves below them. “It is still a long way down,” he said. “With or without your protection.”
“If you did fall, you would be caught,” Nigel replied. “I would tell the ivy to bind you, and keep you safe.”
Adam heaved a great sigh before nodding. “Yes,” he said. “I trust that you would. And I am glad to have met you, because otherwise I would have turned back by now.”
Nigel smiled at him. “If you want to see the stars, little faery, you will have to climb higher than this.” And with that, he ordered the ivy to make a ladder along the trunk. “Follow the ivy’s path,” he said, “and don’t look down. At the top, you will find a place to rest.”
He climbed with ease alongside Adam, swinging from leaf to leaf and twig to twig. It took Adam much greater effort - once or twice he stopped and clung to the ivy to catch his breath. When he reached the top, his arms and legs shook with tremors, but he smiled and laughed to find himself on solid ground again.
“I did it,” he said. “And I did not fall, either.” Then he looked around himself, expectantly. “But we can’t be there yet - this isn’t the top of your tree.”
“No, it isn’t. But, as it is daylight still, there is no point in waiting around up there for the stars. You will only get cold and hungry.” Nigel took hold of Adam’s shoulders and gently spun him round. “So instead, we will wait in here.”
Two great branches forked and spread, soft and mossy where they joined. In the one most upright, sheltered by a canopy of ivy, was a dark round hole.
“Woodpeckers made it, owls have roosted in it, and squirrels stored nuts in it,” Nigel said. “Many things have lived here. Now I do, and it is the warmest, most comfortable home you could wish for.”
Adam ducked inside and gave a little gasp. Nigel followed, feeling pleased. He did not often have guests, and usually ones not as strange as this, but of course Adam would like his home. Nigel could provide him with many impressive luxuries he was likely not used to, living so closely to the damp earth.
“Sit down and rest yourself,” he said, pointing at his cot. It stood in the corner furthest from the entrance - a pile of twigs leftover from a bird’s nest, stacked neatly and cushioned by fresh green leaves gathered that morning. On top was a blanket of woven thistledown.
Adam settled onto the cot and ran his fingers along the blanket in wonder. Nigel gathered water, acorn bread and honey, and set them on the polished piece of branch which served him as a table. “It is a fine blanket,” he said, as he set out cups and bowls and plates. “I trade with some meadow elves, who are very skilled at weaving. I can get you one, if you like. It would keep you warm, down in your dark burrow.”
Adam blinked a few times. “Thank you,” he said. “But I am well-provided for already. And this blanket seems very light - I prefer something thick and cosy, like the sheep’s wool one I have on my bed.”
“Sheep?” Nigel said. “Those large trampling animals? Why would you bother with such a creature?”
“They do not trouble me. And they leave their wool in the thorn bushes, ready for me to collect.” Adam smiled. “I could get you a blanket of their wool, if you like.”
Nigel laughed at the faery’s boldness - no meadow elf would dare speak to him that way - but Adam did not seem conscious he had spoken out of turn. He merely smiled some more and knelt on the swept floor by the table.
They ate with concentration and in good humour. Adam was far more complimentary about the food, especially the honey. Nigel was astonished to learn he had never eaten it before, and made sure he took plenty.
Afterwards, Nigel packed his pipe with dried strawberry leaves while Adam peeked out the entrance, at the fields and meadows below. The sun was dipping and the light growing golden and lazy. Soon it would be time to leave.
“Now you have come this far,” Nigel said, “are you still sure about travelling to the top of the tree? I ask because, once you begin again, you will not be able to turn back.”
“Why ever not?” Adam asked. His brow was furrowed and he worried at his lip. Nigel noticed he had already caught a little flush from the strong sun, and very fetching it was too.
Nigel didn’t answer. Instead he stood and fetched his whistle, carved from a particularly sharp blackthorn. He blew it and it gave a high piercing shriek. Adam covered his ears and so missed the sound of powerful wing beats growing closer and closer.
It was only when a shadow fell across the entrance that Adam took notice. One yellow eye stared inside and he froze in terror.
“Adam,” Nigel said, patting his shoulder. “Meet Darko.”
