(A/N: Wow. My life sucks./No, not really. :D/ The result? Listening to the radio excessively. The result? This song. The result? This story. :D You all know that that's your cue: 'Til I Get Over You by Michelle Branch. Now listen and read!)
H—Holly
A—Artemis
B—Butler
M—Minerva
'Til the Golden Sunrise by ckontowderdon32
Everytime I feel alone
I can blame it on
You
And I do
H
She stared out the window, watching the world pass by on the other side as if everything was as cheerful as the many bright yellow flower heads that were smiling at her. She did nothing in reply, determined to remain as stony and distant as she could.
Where was she going? What was she going to do? She didn't know, and to be honest she didn't really care. Just as long as she was as far away from Ireland as possible.
She'd lost her wings somewhere…she didn't really know how or where they were, but she dismissed that with a soft sigh. They couldn't help her anymore.
The world whizzed by so quickly out there, she marveled. It was so ignorant to her distress. But then again, how much of a difference could one mistake be in the over-all scheme of the world?
Nothing. And that was what worried her so much.
"Um—miss? Is this seat occupied?" asked a young gentleman. He was asking her with genuine concern, but she had no use for genuine feelings. She turned from her position next to the window with her knees drawn up against her chest. She stared at him as hard as she could, as cold and angry as she would ever be able to, using all of the feelings inside her. He was disconcerted with the fact that this young lady could be so…hard ,was a good word.
"Um…all right then…" He left. Before she might have smiled and perhaps even flirted with him, despite the fact that she was much smaller than a regular woman.
Holly stared at the space where he had just been, as if an imprint of him was still stamped there. Imagining another outline being stamped into her heart, and she was both sad and happy about that at the same time.
You got me like a loaded gun
Golden sun and sky so blue
We both know that we want it
But we both know you left me
No choice
A
"Artemis? Breakfast is read...y…" Butler trailed off as he entered the room to find Artemis lying in bed, looking up at the ceiling.. He closed his eyes at Butler's entrance.
"I'm not hungry. Tell Mother I'm sick."
Butler watched him for a few moments, the not-so-young Artemis torn so utterly over one girl who could never be with him.
"Yes, Artemis," he said and made for the door.
"Wait," Artemis said quicky, just as Butler's hand was on the door. "Not yet." He sat up.
"What is it, Artemis?" Butler turned to face his young charge again.
Artemis closed his eyes. "I can…" he trailed off, breathing deeply. "I can see her."
Butler came and drew up a chair next to Artemis's bed. "It hurts, doesn't it?"
"It hurts like hell."
Butler drew back, slightly surprised at this outburst. "You don't normally swear, Artemis."
"I don't normally hurt this bad. Hurt doesn't describe it. It's too childish. It…it's tearing apart my heart…" Artemis's chest heaved with effort of keeping his emotions in check.
"You can't pretend not to love her, Artemis," Butler said softly, staring at his hands.
"I'm not going to," Artemis replied stiffly.
"Then what are
you going to do?"
Artemis didn't answer, so Butler stood, pushed the chair back, and left, wondering what exactly had happened that night that had both thrilled and torn apart Artemis the way it had.
Artemis allowed himself to fall back into bed. He pulled the covers closer and wondered vaguely if you could die of this pain. Because he wasn't sure if he wanted to or not. Just thinking about her living to be hundreds of years old with some hot-shot Recon jock was enough to bring a stony silence to him, but remembering her eyes and her lips and the sparks that had flitted around them as they touched was enough to change his mind.
More than enough.
He could see her face, still and serene, coming closer to his…
Then he shook
his head and the dream faded back into nothing, into black.
He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. She probably didn't feel anything, turned into a stone because of what he had done.
It's all your fault, you bastard…it doesn't matter that you love her.
Chaque fois que tu t'en vas Each time that you go
You just bring me down
Je pretends que tout va bien I pretend that all is well
So I'm counting my tears
'Til I get over you.
M
She watched the rain hitting her little brother, watched him laugh as the coldness struck his skin. He twirled around and around, smiling and enjoying the water from the heavens. Coldness was striking her skin too, but inwardly and she most definitely wasn't enjoying it. She stayed like that, finding no joy in his happiness.
She turned from the window, looking at her delicate hand, nails perfectly rounded. And the diamond that was twinkling on her fourth finger on her left hand, She couldn't tear her eyes from it, just like she couldn't help but think, It's not him.
She refused to feel anything, even as the tears built up in her eyes. Twinkle…twinkle…went the ring, but she just wanted to take it off her finger, her damn hand, and throw it out the window. That would be nice, she thought, to watch it all shatter, to shatter like her heart. To watch the shards burst and fall to the ground, clattering and making little difference to her.
To just do nothing all day was killing her…but that was what she was doing…
She made up her mind in an instant and worked her way up the stairs to her room. She walked the hallways, ignoring the grins from the family pictures in gold frames on the walls, feeling like a zombie with only emptiness inside. Upon finding her room, she halted in the doorway and dug her toes into the carpet.
Fingering the diamonds in the ring, she slid it off her hand carefully.
She looked at it and imagined what she would be feeling had he given it to her. As it was, it meant nothing, only reminding her of how far she was from her goal. And how she would never get any closer, despite her deep feelings.
Without hesitation, she threw her arm back and flung it.
The crash and the shattering, the screams and the footsteps pounding up the stairs was just as satisfying as she had thought it would be, as she collapsed on the floor and broke down, succumbing to the black of unconsciousness.
Damn you, Artemis…
Sometimes I watch the world go by
I wonder what it's like
To wake up every single day
Smile on your face
You never tried
B
"He's sick? He's been 'sick' for two weeks! He needs a doctor!"
"Madame, I don't think he wants—"
"Excuse me Butler, but I do believe that I, being his mother, would know what he wants more than you. And, again, being his mother, I know what he needs also. Now, the phone, Butler!"
Butler had no choice but to hold it out to her. She eyed him for a second, then turned away and punched in the numbers.
"Remember this, Butler—you are his bodyguard. Not his best friend."
Butler gulped, then nodded. She has no idea of what he's going through.
"Leave, Butler."
"Of course," he murmured, but she was already talking to the secretary. Bowing, he exited the room.
He went to his room and sat on his bed, placing his head in his hands and groaned.
Holly, how could you do this to him? Artemis, what are you doing to yourself? What happened that night? Why did you disappear, Holly? Why is Artemis in so much pain? Do you two hate each other? Will you ever meet again? Why isn't Minerva coming over anymore? Why was the queen split in half after your chess game? Who is she engaged to? Does she love Artemis?
Butler stood up, determined to find the truth.
Knock-knock.
There was no reply from Artemis's room, so Butler strode in confidently.
What he found was enough to make him stumble back a few steps, then pass out in fear, anxiety, and shock.
I thought you were smarter, Artemis…
We both know
We can't change it
We both know
We'll just have to face it
H
"Holly…Holly!" came a voice. Holly ignored it and continued to sit on the golden sand, watching the waves lap the shore underneath the palm trees and the orange sun. "Holly—it's urgent, I swear!" came the somewhat familiar voice.
Holly opened her eyes to find Foaly shaking her.
"What the hell—where am I, Foaly?! This better be good!" Holly swore, beginning to tremble.
Foaly shook his head. "Holly, what happened that night?"
Holly blanched, then sat up, looking around. She was in a dirty motel, on a dirty bed.
She looked back at him, straight in his eyes. He was scared. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Foaly held her arms. "Holly, I mean it. What happened on November 16 with you and Artemis?" There was something steely in his eyes, something that Holly didn't know.
"Wha-what happened, Foaly? What is it?"
Foaly walked away from her, facing the wall. He drew a shaky breath, then said…
"He…Artemis…"
"What about him," Holly said nonchalantly.
Foaly turned toward her, a pained expression in his eyes. "He's dead, Holly. He killed himself. Hanging. Now what the hell happened that night?" Foaly asked, his voice cracking.
Holly didn't even notice herself slipping back into her dream.
She saw the horizon with the sun setting and asked it a question, angry and demanding.
Why the hell did you do it Artemis?
She fell onto the sand, facing the sky on her back. She closed her eyes and tasted the salty tears with her tongue.
…I still love you…
Chaque fois que tu t'en vas Each time that you go
You just bring me down
Je pretends que tout va bien I pretend that all is well
So I'm counting my tears
'Til I get over you
M
"Minerva! Minerva!!"
"What is it…" she grumbled, opening her eyes.
"What the—why did you—are you—what the hell is going on?!" boomed her father.
Minerva sat up slowly. She was surrounded by bodyguards and family. She looked around at them, looking them directly in the eyes.
"What?" she asked simply.
They all gaped at her.
She struggled to stand up, feeling extremely weak and exhausted, but hands pushed her down.
"Minerva, why did you throw your wedding ring out the window?" he demanded.
She stared at him with a hidden fire in her eyes. "I don't love him."
He groaned. "So…you want to cancel the wedding."
"You know what I want?" she whispered to him. "I want to cancel him."
But she didn't say his name. They wouldn't have understood anyway.
"Minerva…" her father said carefully. "Artemis…he's dead, Minerva."
She sat there, petrified, for a moment. Then she fell back onto the ground, wishing she could cancel herself as well.
If only I could give you up
But would I want to let you
Off of this soapbox, baby…
H
She held it in her hands, feeling the edges of the paper and soaking up the knowledge that his hands must have held this.
Dear Holly,
I'm sorry. I don't know what else there is to say—these words are coming too late, just as my actions came to early. You'll never know the full extent of my sorrow at the memories…and yet, I have to confess (and I am disgusted), my extreme bliss.
I love you. I honestly don't know whether you know this or not, so I'm telling you this right now. I do. I can always picture your face and it used to be where I could see your smile and feel better about everything automatically—but now I feel guilt, anger, and torn emotions. I don't know whether to cry with happiness or loss, or to smile or close my eyes.
I don't know if you love me or if you hate me. I would be ultimately shocked if it is the former, but I doubt that thoroughly.
I am a lost man, struggling to become a grown-up but having trouble with the past. I am staring down the roads at an intersection, wondering where to go next. My hesitance has shown me a secret path out, and while I know I should not traverse it, my mind is already made up.
I am writing this because I am dead by now. You can take pleasure in that fact, since you probably hate my existence…or hated. I am not doing this for your pleasure, although that is a factor that I looked at. Being myself, I made a list of pros and cons. The pros did not put up much of a fight.
I do not wish to distress you or make you feel guilty—I am down below you, burning from now until eternity. You will never see me again, for you will live for years and years to come, and even when you DO die, you will soar with the angels. Take comfort in that fact.
Love,
Artemis.
She stared at the period, finishing the letter, but also his life. He was behind her now.
…Wasn't he?...
She recalled his face, tears streaming down his cheeks. Her standing up, staring down at him. Wanting him but hating him.
And running, trying to run so far away…
But running never led to anywhere in the end, except the beginning.
We both know
That we want it
But we both know
You left me no choice
B
Mrs. Fowl was in danger of going off the edge and returning to her former state of mental health—insanity. This time there would be no fairies to restore her health.
Mr. Fowl was locked in his study, staring at the computer screen with various business endeavors that Artemis had, at one point, taken care of. But he never got any work done.
The twins were not told about his death. They were not going to be told for a while, Butler could tell. He felt that it was not the right course, but he was only the bodyguard.
Upon finding the notes, he had read all of them—one for Minerva, one for Holly, one for him, one for his parents, and one for the twins which would not be given to them until the proper time. After he had felt horribly guilty, as if stealing a cookie from the jar and eating it ten minutes before dinner. But who was he supposed to confess to?
And now the story made sense—cracks in the pavement were filled in, and those that weren't Butler could guess at what had happened. Although it was darkly amusing that his parents' letter told nothing of the truth.
Dear Domovoi,
Despite what the world told you repeatedly, you must always know that you were my closest friend. You were always there with me, and when you could not be by me in body, you were with me in heart and spirit, watching over me. Saving my life repeatedly, going along with my plans for money, family, and glory.
You helped me achieve more than that.
Sincerely,
Artemis.
Butler had wondered why he had not asked him to take care of the twins—but then again, he knew that he would, and he knew that Artemis knew that too.
Chaque fois que tu t'en vas Each time that you go
You just bring me down
Je pretends que tout va bien I pretend that all is well
So I'm counting my tears
'Til I get over you
M
She forced herself to read it, knowing that he wrote it for her to read. To help her understand.
Dear Minerva,
These words will most likely decimate your heart, even though it has already been broken.
I do not love you, at least not how you desperately wish I did. You were a close comrade, a sister to me. But my heart belongs to someone else. I will not reveal who, but know that you were my equal, my friend, my twin.
Hopefully you will put me behind you, in the past. You can forget my existence, and also the wedding. I have succeeded in creating chaos among the designers, the planners, the caterers, and everyone else. They are currently running amok.
Minerva couldn't help but let out a giggle here, a small smile lighting up her face for a second. Then she wanted to slap herself, but it was too late—she knew that her heart was already beginning to mend, just as it was falling to pieces.
Goodbye, dear sister…
Love,
Artemis.
She stared at that word, "Love". It didn't mean what she wanted it to mean, but she could pretend.
She picked up the two pieces of the queen from his chess set—they had been sent with the letter.
The two wooden pieces were made of Koa wood, from Hawaii. She was glad that they hadn't played with the marble set that day—marble was cold, hard, unfeeling. She could learn to hold a warmth inside her like the wood. She could try.
They were jagged where they had been split apart, and Minerva couldn't decide for the life of her whether to glue them together of leave them like they were.
We both know
That I'm not over you
H
She held the letter to her chest, over her heart. It was clichéd, she knew, but she wanted to feel him pressed against her again, holding her so softly and pressing his lips against hers.
She didn't know what to do next, so she stayed like that.
She looked out the window, staring up at the moon. It wasn't full, it was a quarter moon. She would stay like that all night, until the sunrise, when warmth and sunshine would spread throughout the room and eventually touch her.
She could try to live again.
I'm not over you…
A
"Artemis? It's time." Came the winged creature, light shining from it. It was light.
It held its arm out for him to take.
Artemis stood at the edge of the cloud, looking down at the world. I hope I made the right decision, Holly…
Then he turned away and followed the angel through the golden gates, as the sun rose up behind him.