A/N: I have not written in a long time and in fact, it took me a long while to post this after typing it up. I didn't want to spoil the storyline or interrupt the narration even though I had some important information to divulge. So I used good old asterisk endnotes. The notes of the endnotes are found at the end. : ) Indeed, 'tis a fitting name.
This takes place after Artemis Fowl: The Atlantis Complex
Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is copyrighted.
Even Tolkien
Holly strode up to the hospital doors but it took her a moment, once in front of the doctor's office to reach out and open the door. The hesitation was not like her, as anyone familiar with her skill on the field would attest. But then she had always known what to do.
She pulled the door open and walked up to the doctor with a brisker pace than usual to make up for the moment.
"Good morning, Dr. Argon," Holly said in one breath. She knew from experience that the gnome would be more helpful is she attempted politeness. "How is Artemis?"
She forced herself to wait with as few outward signs of impatience as possible while the old gnome settled with a few grunts of pain into a seat. "Good morning, Captain," he finally said "Mr. Fowl continues to improve. Though his behavior is occasionally…challenging."
Dr. Argon grimaced. He did not complain because he was well-paid for his trouble, but the Mud Boy was frustrating to handle. The human seemed reluctant to discuss his adventures in detail, hampering his progress with the book.
"As it is my emotional state you are examining, Miss Koboi's exact terminology can hardly matter," the adolescent had impatiently reminded him one session.
Holly nodded. Artemis had been introverted even before the Atlantic Complex had set in; the disease must have made him downright paranoid towards strangers like Dr. Argon.
"So can I see him?"
The doctor had sometimes insisted on Artemis being left to himself and his employees for days at a time to meditate. Holly had her job and Angeline had the rest of her family, but Butler's distance could only be assured on these days by repeating that Artemis would recover faster without his loved ones hanging over him.
Dr. Argon turned on a monitor that showed Artemis reading a Mud Man tome. "Yes, I do believe you can. He's been making remarkable progress lately."
With a muttered expression of gratitude Holly walked down the hall to Artemis' door. She knocked and waited briefly for Artemis to open the door. He did so and then stepped back to let Holly in.
"Holly," Artemis said "welcome back."
"Hey, Artemis," Holly replied, noting the tired look about him and the paleness of his skin. He had been pale before, but after a few months living underground his skin was white.
They sat and Holly gestured at the book lying on the writing desk. The spine was turned away from her and the leather cover had only a gold-embossed symbol.
"What were you reading?" she asked. It seemed a safe subject.
The human opened his mouth as if to answer and then grimaced.
You are learning to let go of the guilt and let your mind heal, but to prevent a relapse you need to be honest.
Complete honesty. It had never appealed to Artemis. So he was unable to quite meet her eyes as he told her in a light voice "I was reading Lord of the Rings, in one volume."
To his surprise the frown that had formed on her face as she read his expression turned into a grin and he was able to look directly at her face again. "Oh, that. Foaly has made me aware of that, Mud Man literature that it is. Elves, Dwarves, and Mud Men, fighting against the big-headed male of that particular dimension."
Artemis smiled at her laughter but commenced his hobby of giving lectures. Because he was still technically recovering, Holly decided to play along. "How are you to judge a piece of literature without having experienced the act of reading of it? Secondhand accounts hardly ever do art justice. In fact, any such account would have to be a piece of art itself."
Or she could just follow the main point. "How do you know I haven't read it?"
Again Artemis hesitated, just long enough for the pause to be noticeable to Holly. "Because then you would know that there's more to the book than the war scenes," he said, measuring his words before continuing "Besides, you made it clear that your knowledge of this work came from Foaly. Forgive me for saying so, Captain, but you do not seem at all the 'literature type', let alone one who would be inspired to pursue human literature."
There it was again. The vampire smile. Either Artemis was hiding something (bad, considering his condition), or he felt like his old self (good, considering his condition), or the smile only seemed vampiric to Holly because the shade of his skin made her think of vampires. Holly sighed internally. The headaches from dealing with Artemis came not so much from his manner of speaking, but from trying to figure out what was going on in that overstuffed head of his. Of course the world could theoretically abandon the effort, but the prodigy made it so damn hard.
Well, if he was well enough to want to confuse her, there was no need to play nice. "Yes, it was a bit obvious, wasn't it? Especially such a big book. It must be heavy. How can you manage to lift it?" Holly turned her hazel-and-blue eyes, round with angelic concern, to Artemis' slight arms.
She hadn't expected the childish taunt to affect Artemis, but when the expected retort arrived less than swiftly, Holly realized that it may just have scraped his shell.
"You wound me, Captain," Artemis started. Holly felt a twitch of annoyance somewhere. 'Captain.' "I've gained some muscle since coming to Haven. Even Butler says I'm making progress."
Perhaps to prove that he could lift the book, Artemis picked the book up and walked over to the bookshelf. For lack of other items to grab her attention, Holly followed him. Artemis reached for a gap between two books, and Holly read the titles of the books next to the space. They weren't all in English, she found.
"The Art of Love by Ovid*, Eclogues by Virgil**, A Midsummer Night's Dream by Shakespeare…those first two are old even by fairy standards and the last one isn't new either. Haven't the Mud Men come up with anything better in the past centuries?"
"Holly, you should know that we build our cultures on our histories. As you've noted, we do produce good works with regularity," Artemis reminded her, tapping the spine of the now-shelved Tolkien compilation.
Holly snorted. "I never said that I thought that book-"
"Books," Artemis corrected "there's a common misconception that-"
"-was good. Of course you probably like the book because it had an especially big big-headed male. I suppose he's your favorite character?"
"Actually, I think that Sauron was especially incompetent. My favorite character is…" he reached for the two Roman books Holly had mentioned, smiling as he lightly placed a finger on each spine. "the conqueror."
Then his smile froze and a troubled look crossed his face.
Complete honesty. He had spoken without thinking and how realized how true the words were. The conqueror. He didn't look at Holly. He couldn't. Memories from the past months – no, the past year- , memories he had treasured, stored, and nurtured into wishes and plans were now before his eyes. And as he looked over them he felt his insides sliding down with weight.
Holly spoke.
.*.*.*.
Artemis froze and his features assumed a troubled expression. He turned his face away from Holly and she saw the tension in his shoulders.
What?
It took her a moment, but Holly realized the problem. She called attention to four books. She quickly latched onto another title. "Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte.*** Another old book. Although I congratulate you on the fact that I don't know anything ridiculous about that particular story."
Artemis's reply was distant and distracted. "What is it you find ridiculous about Virgil and Ovid?"
"Artemis, you are a boy in the twenty-first century reading them."
Artemis sighed and turned his attention back to her. "Holly, I am a man now. I am nineteen years old."
Holly dropper her eyes to the bookshelf again. "Fifteen," she corrected quietly. When he didn't reply she tried for a light tone. "And I'm nearing ninety. I think I've earned the right to call you a boy."
Artemis could think of no proper reply, so he turned to the main (and less important) topic. "There is nothing ridiculous about educating oneself on the civilizations of the world. Information is power, Holly; know thine enemy. The fairies blind themselves if they refuse to study human culture. You, of all fairies, would see the need for this kind of education."
Holly put a smirk on her face, glad to be on familiar ground. "Maybe you're right, Artemis. I should educate myself on my opponent." She reached for Jane Eyre but saw his hand twitch from the corner of her eye. Holly held the book and smiled at Artemis, but she saw a wary, guilty look on his face before he was able to smooth it away. Holly frowned and opened the book for something to do, but it was large and awkward in her hands. Besides, she couldn't fake interest in it and replaced it on the shelf.
"On second thought, I'll leave that to Foaly's minions."
"They probably have more time for reading," Artemis agreed.
Holly smiled. "Not that much time." She waved her hand at the big shelf. Shelves.
"Being able to read at such speeds as I am capable of can be both a blessing and a curse."
"And your photographic memory?" Holly asked, guessing that he had already read all or most of the books there.
Artemis smiled and tapped his temple. "A second viewing can change perspective."
Holly glanced over the shelves again. "And this is a project? Review everything?"
Artemis sighed and looked at Holly, into the eye that was hers and the eyes that was his. "Yes."
Their gazed held and with this view Artemis was able to see when Holly's eyes softened into sad, resigned mirrors of his own. "Some things won't change, though," she said quietly. Artemis' mind, damaged as it was, could not help but know exactly what she meant.
What an incredible creature, he thought. He felt the draw again, but this time he resisted. Over the years he had followed the draw of a challenge, throwing himself in harm's way. Among the results were mortal injuries to Butler, his faithful friend and mentor. Yet Artemis had been so lucky. Two times Butler had been mortally injured. Both times Butler had been revived by Holly.
What had Artemis paid? Holly had paid with amounts of her magic, Butler had paid with years of his life. All for Artemis' games, and all he had paid was his mind, but now he was healing. His mother was paying too. Her anxious care for him was the real cost. So how could he let himself be drawn in again? He could not, for the sake of the ones that loved him. He would not pay the expense of winning his games again, and he would not let Holly pay either.
That would not be gentleman-like at all. His father would be ashamed.
The black humor helped, because this wasn't a game. He would let this incredible, wonderful being go. He could admire without possessing, after all. The Fairy Thief, hanging in a public museum, was proof of that.
The Fairy Thief. The appropriateness of the title made Artemis smile as he released Holly, voice as soft as it could be for him. Once again he felt his insides had either slid through the floor or floated through the ceiling; wherever they were, they didn't seem to be in their proper place.
"It would be quite impossible, of course. Some things are best left unchanged."
Holly froze and for a second Artemis wondered...she looked at him until he met her eyes. After a few seconds Holly smiled and took his hand. Artemis was surprised.
"You are doing well, Artemis. Soon you will be able to go back home. Your mother will be ecstatic to have you back, and so will your father. Butler will be pleased to have you aboveground again. The Twins have missed you."
Artemis sighed. Holly's LEP helmet, hanging from a moonbelt, let out a short beeping sound. She smiled at Artemis for a second more before unclipping the helmet and tucking it under one arm.
"Well, I have to go, Artemis. Get better. For all of us."
She kissed him softly on the cheek, turned, and walked out of the room. Artemis stared at the door for a long while, letting himself feel in the silent room.
This letting go was different. It was as hollow as defeat but not as bitter. With this he did not have the retaliation to plan and execute. This was resignation, but with a sweet taste to it. He had done this for Holly, for himself, for the memory of Turnball and Leanore. Holly would never experience that pain and loss.
Artemis finally moved. He took the leather-bound tome off the shelf once again.
"But Arwen went forth from the House, and the light of her eyes was quenched."
Yes. Even Tolkien agreed.
A/N:
* "Love is a kind of warfare."- Ovid, the Art of Love, c2 BC.
**"Omnia vincit amor" (Love conquers all.)- Virgil, Eclogues, c37 BC
***"No, my fairy: but I am only too thankful to hear and feel you."-Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
I'm sure you can figure out why I mentioned A Midsummer Night's Dream and Lord of the Rings. Jane Eyre is less universally read, so I included an endnote for it.
Ramble: I handwrote this story over the course of several nights, spending 30-50 minutes at a time going back to edit and extend it. After finishing the first draft, I spent a couple of free periods during the day revising it. My mind was less tired and more clear during the day, so this story changed a lot. I can still see the points where I got too tired to continue (the mood changes), but I like it like this.
It started out from Holly's point of view, lighter and more 'A/H', with a less definite ending and more innuendos dotted through it (the innuendos were the original point of the story). Then after a lot of thought and several revisions it became this.
