Author's Notes: I've been meaning to do this for a while. The Seven Deadly Sins has had me smitten, and the first thing that came to mind was Artemis Fowl and Domovoi Butler. Mm, delicious. Er, anyway, this first chapter has a bit of spoilers for the seventh chapter of the first book, yeah. This is before Holly like, worked her magic on Butler to bring him back to life. So, mmhmm. Enjoy.
Disclaimer: Not mine, Eoin Colfer owns them. If Artemis Fowl was mine, it wouldn't be a book for kids, after all..
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The Seven Deadly Sins
P R I D E
Artemis Fowl was the depiction of perfection.
Ivory skin, silky dark tresses; and sparkling, albeit blank, icy blue optics.
The epitome of perfection – the Alpha, the Omega.
Artemis Fowl – was perfect.
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Born into the notorious Fowl family, it is only natural for a boy such as himself to indulge himself in criminal activities. Stealing from the poor, and giving to the rich (or, in other words, himself); a reversed form of Robin Hood, perhaps blasphemic, if you think about it, is what the boy does best. He has no sense of justice, and if he does; then it is most likely that he has the ability to mask it well.
Artemis, as a child, had shown no signs of becoming a boy such as this. He had been innocent, only much more curious than your average child; and had always been touching objects in fascination. While a few months old, he would have placed his hands on people's faces and move his fingers around, catching their expressions – as he had yet to have the ability to see. When vision was given to him, he had used it to its fullest extent, his pupils always moving in different directions; his head always turning from side to side. Had human beings been given the ability to turn their head three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, he would have been doing that almost all the time.
As a toddler, he had memorized the multiplication table; and the periodic table of elements. His parents, generally impressed with their young boy's talents, had been proud of him; buying him books and other items to satiate his thirst for knowledge. Artemis, of course, had used all of these to their fullest; usually finishing more than five books everyday. This, had an impact as well to his manservant and bodyguard, Domovoi Butler, who had gained an extra workout having to carry the boy all the time due to his excessive grabbing of books from the manor's library.
He had been a happy child, satisfied with everything; content with the life he was living. Artemis had grown up with purity, joy; and success, with Butler in his shadow all the time to help him up during the times he would fall.
So what, pray tell, had gone wrong?
Artemis had been such a bright, amazing boy; with no care in the world for evil, so how could one such as he; slowly dwindle down to the adolescent he was now?
Pride.
Artemis had no interest in compassion, in companion, in love, the moment his father had gone in his Fowl Star and never came back. Of course, there came the occasional worrying for his mother; but no longer did he seek attention. People coming to him, asking for friendship, he would only push away; causing him to be either one of the most sought-after boys in Saint Bartleby's, or one of the most hated.
Pride had caused him to lose everything, his popularity, his humility, his happiness. Artemis had ended up thinking himself better than everyone, seeing as he had managed to uphold the Fowl legacy, even with the loss of his father and a huge chunk of their economy being destroyed. He had managed to cope with his mother's mental insanity, with Juliet's constant pleas for him to return to the Artemis everyone knew and loved. But it was not everyone that Artemis wanted, it was only one; who always seemed to shatter his pride in the smallest of moments.
He, however, had managed to mask such frequent breakings with his flawless exterior, the soft, porcelain skin; the beautiful dark locks, the shimmering blue eyes that rivaled that of his fathers, if it was not better. Artemis has beaten the greatest minds in his haste to become the best, to become the one everyone would look up to.
But he was stuck, in delusions; in the thought that when he would fall and eventually lose everything, that people would be crawling back to him, as he was the king, the ruler, the emperor of the world.
And for once, at the age of twelve, Artemis had been shattered.
A slight blip, an unexpected mistake in his calculations, and the life of the only person he cared about was held on the line. The only person that Artemis sought love from, though knew he would never receive it; the one person that could break his pride and cause him to bow down, craving hungrily for said human.
Artemis had been near-tears at the sight of the man's dying form, the blood practically spilling from his chest wound; as the mindless, lustful creature continued to thrash around violently. It was the first time, since his father's disappearance, that he had actually cried. He was surprised, to find salty tears rolling down his cheeks, as he watched the only person he ever cared for: dying, losing the radiance Artemis so loved about him.
What had once been perfection had broken in two, leaving him painful; different, and changed. For, when he spotted Butler in that situation, his heart had bled; and he had yearned for nothing more than to take back everything he had done. He was much too late, now, to save him; to show him the compassion he was capable of giving but didn't give, thinking that he was much too important to focus on such useless aspects of life.
What had once been the epitome of pride – was now nothing but grief, melancholy; and broken pieces.
Reaching out, to the screen; knowing that he was locked in this blasted room by that frustrating fairy, he tried his very best to save him; praying in different languages, crying out of pain, out of remorse – out of the realization that he was too late to ever love.
"Oh, Butler.." sobbed the boy, his pale, almost lifeless form on the floor, tears spilling from the slits in-between his fingers. He couldn't remember the last time someone so affected him, and he continued to cry; unable to keep from doing so. His pride was now forgotten, and all he could think of now was the fact that he could have prevented this, had pride not taken him; had he not thought he was invincible and his scheme would have worked.
If Butler was gone, he would not be strong; he would be vulnerable, and weak, and unable to do anything. Butler was the only one he was trying to be strong for, the only one he was trying to impress; the reason he had become so great in intelligence and skill. The one man he thought he would ever love; now near-death, and Artemis had no other choice but to just cry his sorrows out.
For what had once been the complete depiction of pride had finally shattered; and what was once a strong man had become nothing but a boy, an ordinary boy, whose love will never be returned.
And now, he realized, although it was too late – that pride had been his downfall.
