An AU, OOC drabble that's been bugging me since I read an Artemis/Holly fic not too long ago. I say AU and OOC because I never completed the Artemis Fowl series and it's been years since I read any of the books. (The last being The Opal Deception) What I gathered from the story line is simply what someone else briefly explained to me. Forgive me my foray into the world of Artemis. I always did like the Holly and Artemis pairing. I'm weird like that, shipping it before there were even hints of romance. Details are a little sketchy so bare with me and keep an open mind. :)
She sighed and wondered how many years she would watch him. He was still young, 22 years old. Young enough for a Mud man, barely a child in elf years. How long would she watch as he continuously dated blonde, big-chested pale women that made her sick just to see. They were clearly the opposite of her. She glanced morosely at her own small chest, at her thin tanned hands, fingering her copper strands idly as she daydreamed about what could have been. He was never hers, not really. Not even when their ages had been similar, not even when she'd kissed him, frustrated by hormones and puberty. He'd never once looked at her the way he looked at these other woman. The gleam of mischief replaced by a hint of dark desire, his smirk meant to seduce rather than to antagonize.
She sighed. Artemis was growing into the man she'd glimpsed so many years before, had already become the man that she'd known she would respect. Putting his endless parade of buxom blondes aside, he was mature, and a completely ruthless businessman. Yet he still gave a large portion of his earnings to charities and he firmly set his ruthless nature aside when dealing with his family and friends. Then he became simply Arty, his lopsided smile returning with practiced ease, his eyes warm when he gazed upon his mother, father and twin brothers.
The two sides of himself he kept apart but she loved them both. How could she not? His genius plans, though often morally ambiguous, had saved her skin and many others' skins more times than she could count. And he'd proven in the end that he was capable of being good, capable of sacrificing himself for a cause he deemed worthy. She just wished it didn't hurt so much to see that he'd lost so much of himself in the process.
After his soul had taken hold of his cloned form she had hoped that their lives would go on much the same as before. The two of them sharing a casual familiarity that was underscored by the tension of their mutual attraction. It wasn't what she'd really wanted obviously but it would have been better than what they had now. Which was completely nothing. After telling him the long tale of his past exploits she'd expected him to react in some way. She wouldn't have been surprised if he'd been disbelieving or angry. What she hadn't expected was his courteous but aloof gratitude for filling him in on the years he couldn't recall followed by his abrupt request that she leave him in peace, for good.
It was a slap to the face. She'd wanted to be angry at him, she was angry at him for awhile but then she came to realize that he was right to make a clean break. She'd never told him anything more of their relationship than to say that they were friends and acquaintances. She'd never told him of the confused feelings he provoked anytime he'd shown the smallest amount of affection, even as simple as a warm squeeze of the shoulder or a firm pat on the back. She'd never told him of the times they'd kissed or the fact that she'd once felt the need to clarify that whatever they shared couldn't go beyond the difficult but completely ironclad friendship they shared. She didn't tell him that she realized she loved him the moment before she watched him die, that she'd been half in love with him for years and that she was certain that he held her in a similar regard.
So the Artemis Fowl that had lost his memories looked at her with a distant respect as he explained that their acquaintance seemed to be detrimental to both of them. He couldn't realize that he was breaking her heart as he said goodbye with as much civility as he would show a stranger. And she must have imagined that flicker of gentle concern as she quietly agreed to leave and never return, her face downcast to hide the tears shining in her eyes, her voice hoarse from swallowing back the sobs that threatened to escape her firmly pressed lips.
And so here Holly Short found herself, a mere observer to the life of the man she couldn't help but love. She'd kept in contact with Butler and Juliet and they often urged her to make contact with Artemis. She'd always asked them the same question.
"Does he remember me?" The answer was always the same. He didn't and likely never would. So she would remain his graceful stalker, filled with equal parts shame and elation as she watched him live his life happily without her presence.
And if she was tempted to join him on the nights he stared forlornly into the dark, motionless and contemplative, she refused to bow to the urge. She refused to admit to herself that on those nights, despite the happy laughter that floated from the open doors behind him, that he looked sadder than she'd ever seen him. She refuse to allow herself the hope that he might miss her, despite the fact that he couldn't remember her, that he might feel even a fraction of the emptiness she felt without him by her side.
She continued to watch as he brought woman after woman home, rarely introducing them to anyone he held dear and then watching as they left the way they'd come, wearing the same clothes from the night before and leaving alone in a cab.
She wished him happiness and love and all the things that mudmen often needed to be truly happy. And she swore to herself that she would watch over him until the day he died, years before she did. Because that was love to her, caring when he did not, loving when he could not, living to see his happiness even if it did not include her.
Holly sighed once again, answering her own question silently, and answering another that lie at the back of her mind as well. How long would she watch him? Until the day he died. How long would she love him? Until the day she breathed her last.
So, what did you think? I cringe at the things I got wrong but I couldn't help myself. I may just have to read the rest of the series to make up for it. I have two other chapters written if anyone is interested. But I'll leave it at this for now.
