The Missing Puzzle Piece
"And the petals came tumbling down. I would never forget that rain of orange."
"And then?" The boy asked the elf, thinking her silence meant she had once again gotten lost in her memories as she often does on days like this.
"And now we're here."
Now they're there. They sat side by side on a carpet of green grass. The friends were seated in their secret place at Fowl Manor, atop a sparsely wooded hill that overlooked the Manor, the lake and the land beyond. It was late afternoon, and far in the clear azure sky, the sun was nestled in a lone delicate cloud. For more than a year, it was here that Holly chronicled their adventures to Artemis in the hope that he remembers.
"That's it?" Artemis shifted his gaze from the horizon to the elf beside him. "That's the end?"
"It's not the end. We still have a life ahead. But technically, yes. Those are all our adventures."
After a year of these conversations atop their hill, it was hard to believe that it was now over. Holly's storytelling had become a constant in the confusion of his still-recuperating life, and now it has come to an end. However, that was only one of two things that bothered him.
"You still don't remember, don't you?"
"I'm sorry." When Holly silently gazed into the distance, Artemis felt the need to expound on his apology even if his amnesia was not his fault. "I know the events now that you have shared the details with me. Sometimes when you narrate an incident, I do feel a remnant of familiarity. But it is still different, in a sense, hollow. I remember them from your stories, rather than from my own experiences."
It is different, Holly thought. The word hollow stung. They were friends bonded by trauma, and their friendship was nothing if he had not experienced the pain, the excitement and the emotions of the trauma they had gone together.
She had failed. Months had gone by when she would painstakingly recount their entire shared past, telling herself that if she just keeps going on, he would somehow remember. Again and again, she tried to forge their forgotten friendship. Yet now here she was with nothing left to tell, and still he stared back at her with that distance, that unfamiliarity one feels towards an acquaintance. Like the adventures, he only remembered her from her own stories, instead of from their years together. Like he said: hollow. It pained her most that she would never see those dichromatic eyes that knows and loves her so deeply. All she was left with was these detached Fowl-blue ones.
She sighed and rose. The sight of Artemis sitting on the ground, careless of the grass stains that would tarnish his designer slacks, drove the point farther home. Artemis would have been appalled to see even a single slight on his impeccable appearance. Her Artemis Fowl was gone. Things would never be the same.
"Wait," Artemis said. Seated, his eyes were level with Holly's. "There has to be something more, something else that happened that would make me remember."
"I'm sorry, Artemis," She had stopped calling him Arty after the fifth month. "That's all there is to it."
"Please, I want to remember." And he does, implicitly. "I know that you and my family want and miss Artemis, the old Artemis. I am trying my best to be him for all of you, but I just can't. I don't know what else to do."
For a moment, he looked so lost, reminiscent of the broken boy bidding her a final good bye. Just like Holly and the Fowl family, Artemis himself wanted everything in the world to click back into place. How hopeless must it be for Artemis, too, Holly thought. What does it feel like when everyone you love is demanding you to be somebody else for them? What does it feel like to not have all the puzzle pieces of your jigsaw past?
And suddenly it dawned on Holly. There was one more thing left to say, one missing puzzle piece, one moment she had purposely left out. The moment that she was actually thankful that Artemis had forgotten. She promised herself she would never speak of it again, and she knew it would only serve to further complicate things. But now as she stood on the edge with him, there was no way to go but to jump and fall.
"There is one other adventure, but if I tell you and you do not remember, you have to promise to forget that I told you about it. We'll never talk about it again."
Artemis nodded to her instructions.
Holly took a deep breath and swiftly pressed her lips against his. This time, there were no blue sparks, no gorilla cages and no ten-year-old genii peering from an adjacent cage. However, like all those years before, the kiss still meant the same thing: she simply couldn't do without him, the real him, the one who drags her into grand larcenies and plunges her into a tangle of pulsing emotion.
She pulled away and found herself unable to look at Artemis. Could that twisted thing possibly had made him remember? Crazily, it was her last hope, and she was so afraid that the eyes that would stare back at her would still be those distanced ones.
"Holly," Artemis called. His hands turned her head so that she would face him.
"Holly," He said again. His voice had a conviction that was not there before, and his eyes had a spark of recognition. As he spoke the words, Holly knew, felt, that he remembered everything.
"You remember," It was a statement rather than an inquiry. A radiant smile broke across her face. "You remember!" She said again, happier this time. Her smile morphed into laughter.
Artemis smirked. It was the most glorious thing Holly had seen. Gods, she had missed that smug smile of his. She thought she would never see it again. It was peculiar, the things she had taken for granted.
"What are you so pleased about? You look like you just stole something from someone." She was still happy from Artemis' sudden recovery and so she said it laughingly, but it was strange that Artemis continued smirking even after several moments had passed. She knew him too well; he was up to something.
Artemis didn't respond. Instead, he tried to wipe the smugness of his face. Yet his mastery of his features failed him for the first time for a slight curve kept tugging his lips; apparently, he was too pleased about something. About this kiss, probably. The thought sparked the familiar annoyance in Holly.
"You better be not conning me and pretending, mud whelp. You do really remember everything, right?"
"Of course, Holly." Artemis sighed. He couldn't resist revealing his genius. "Actually, my memories were restored after you told me how I died under Bruin Fadda's spell."
"What?" Gone was the wistful, desperately hopeful Holly. Her teeth were gritted and her hands were fisted. "Then why the hell did you go on pretending not to…"
And then the coin dropped. Holly screamed and punched him repeatedly. "Argh! You are NEVER getting another kiss from me ever again, mud man! Your elf kissing days are over, you hear me! OVER!"
Artemis only chuckled. "I've heard that before."
xxx
A/N: Nothing like an Artemis Fowl II signature master plan, eh Holly? This is the lightest oneshot I've posted here. Anyways, I guess this could count as an entry to that post-TLG contest thingy but it's already pass October. Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. I really pictured them on that picturesque Irish countryside, seated under the shade of a magical tree and Artemis' boorishness ruining it all. Oh, Arty.