Summary: Post-EC: "But miraculously, ironically, she didn't care." (More-than-implied AH.)
Disclaimer: Artemis Fowl, Holly Short, Foaly and all related characters, plot lines and idiosyncrasies belong to a Mr Eoin Colfer – all I own is this story.
Notes: First AF fanfic I've written in a long time – I'm sorry if the characters seem a little OoC. Currently experimenting with different styles.
- Masquerade -
- by seori -
Holly idly stared down at the throng of masked socialites, setting her eyes on a raven-haired figure sitting alone. Why, she wondered, would he sit alone? Perhaps he hadn't received her message. Perhaps he had other plans.
He had... reverted... back to his old state. Cold, ruthless, cunning. His name carried a negative connotation that could only mean disaster if he were to reacquaint himself with the world of the People. And yet... and yet Holly felt that it was all a façade, a mask behind which he plotted his reconciliation. Fairy intuition was never wrong.
Still, Holly mused, there's always a first time for everything.
What had really happened between them that night, merely an hour ago?
As if hearing her thought, Artemis turned in his chair and glanced at the ceiling. So he had understood, after all. Ah well, she'd make him wait. It wasn't time yet.
Three minutes...
The oak swayed in the breeze, almost a sight from a fairytale in the ethereal light of the full moon. She'd timed it well, then. It was midnight and she was free to do as she pleased for an hour, just as long as she kept an eye on her sensors. The Council had set up these random patrols as a precaution, just in case. Coincidentally enough, Holly had been assigned to the oak she had been kidnapped under. Bad memories lingered here, and yet she felt more comfortable here than under any other.
A message beeped in her helmet as Holly set her feet on earth. "Open," she whispered, as she bent down to search for an acorn.
And then she stopped.
Two minutes...
To whom it may concern,
My sources inform me that it is your duty to keep the knowledge of my return under the carpet. I, however, cannot understand the reason for this precaution. After all, was I not a friend before the end of our last escapade?
I would like to arrange an appointment with you to discuss the merits of this event tonight. Directions are included in the folder – come alone.
Sincerely,
Artemis Fowl the Second
One...
The clues had been unmistakeable, and Holly had never been one to refuse a challenge. Foaly was the only one she had told. They had devised a short reply, setting the conditions of their meeting.
Holly peered down from her seat on the chandelier, ignoring the protests from the shaking crystals. He was walking away. What?
"Foaly," she whispered, "I don't think he got the message!"
She heard a crunch as the centaur bit into an apple. "Hmm? No... the signal he gave was too obvious. The great Artemis Fowl would never glance upwards without having a good reason. Unless he was examining the cracks in the ceiling for minor leaks, of course. Then you'd be in trouble."
"I'm following him, then. This must be a message too."
"If you want, but I'm going to have to sever connection. Looks like Root's having a brain aneurysm. Better go check out what it is."
"And if he asks why I haven't returned?"
"I'll think of something."
"It better not involve males."
"Too close to the truth, I know."
Holly snorted sarcastically as another icon appeared on her visor screen. "Open."
The next set of directions is in the attached folder. Please comply.
Foaly bit into his apple again, watching the footage from Artemis' eye. "I can't believe you're going through with this, Mud Boy. She was hurt enough before."
"I won't hurt her this time. You have my word as a Fowl." His words were terse, short. "She'll understand."
"Why, though? Just to be friends?" Behind the Centaur's questions lay a budding fear – what if Holly was wrong? What if he had really turned back into a monster?
"I have my own reasons." He knew the very mention of it would get him locked up in Howler's Peak. Interracial relationships were unheard of in the world of the People.
"I know what you're thinking," Foaly warned. "Don't you dare mess around with her feelings again, Mud Boy. Make sure they're not hormones first, that's all I'm saying."
Artemis smiled softly, thinking of her. "I'm not a genius for nothing, Foaly."
Compliance? Holly deliberated for a moment, watching the dancers on the ballroom floor. A thousand colours melted together, flowing seamlessly in and out of each other. Following his orders would mean throwing away the last vestiges of her mask, her defiance. She would be stripped of her last defences.
But miraculously, ironically, she didn't care.
The instructions took her flying through what felt like the entirety of the 43-room villa, finally stopping near a set of French windows inside a small antechamber, presumably for situations not much different from this. The full moon streamed through the glass, laughing at her obedience. When had she become so submissive, especially to a Mud Boy?
Though, she observed as she watched him close the door, blocking her only means of escape, he wasn't really a boy anymore. At the age of twenty with a lean build and piercing eyes, she wasn't quite sure how exactly to describe him.
She glanced at the last instruction blinking on her visor. Unmask yourself.
Unmask, she thought, then – unshield. Almost unwillingly Holly reached for the source of sparks inside her mind, watching her body fizzle into the visible spectrum.
"Unmasked," she murmured to herself, trancelike as her feet touched the floor. "That's a nice way to put things, isn't it?"
He took off his mask, skin pale in the delicate light. "I do believe we've met before."
Holly nodded, the traces of a smile lingering on her lips. She'd never doubt her intuition again. We've met before.
But they hadn't, not really.
- end -
I wasn't totally sure what I wanted there, which explains the ambiguity. The 'mask' theme was supposed to be more heavily interwoven (subconsciously, I mean), but I was afraid I'd be overdoing it. Sorry ;