This is Not a Castle: Moments in the Life of Juliet Butler
[Disclaimer: The line of Spanish is from Google Translate. I obviously took liberties with Juliet's life in the United States, but Colfer was never clear about it. Written Pre-TLG, although I suppose you could think of it as a kind of alternate-ending.]
Four (Family)
She's hoping they stay here. She likes the weather, and the people, and the peanut butter sandwiches. There aren't as many stars in the sky as there were before, but that's okay, too, because Dom says everyone's sky is the same.
Or something.
"Dom?"
He grunts, which Juliet knows means that he's okay with her asking a question but that he's probably not happy about it, and that he'd rather be watching the movie with the two people kissing at the end and wipe his eyes and mumble that he's allergic to dust and that he hasn't had time to clean.
"Can we stay here?"
Her brother is very still but his eyes are always moving, checking for the monsters (monsters that took Mother and Father) and talking to himself in his head.
"Do you like it here, princess?"
She nods.
"Then you'll stay."
She's very powerful that way.
Then he flips her upside down in the sand, and she giggles ("This is serious, Juliet. I've just disabled you because you let your guard down") before propelling herself up and delivering a sloppy but strong roundhouse kick to Domovi Butler's groin.
Thirteen (Lesson)
Ireland is all fog and flat green fields from the plane, and it doesn't seem nearly as impressive as everyone says it is.
The descent into Dublin is making Juliet's ears hurt and she's not allowed to listen to her discman, so all in all this isn't a particularly promising welcome into the country that's now her official home.
Juliet twists her jade ring back and forth and stares at the seat in front of her. The man next to her, an elderly Irish gentleman with a beard, says, "First time on a plane, lass?"
"Nah, first time in Ireland," she responds politely.
"Are you meeting someone at the gate? You're a bit young to be traveling on your own." Juliet likes his accent but doesn't appreciate his paternalistic attitude.
"I'm not that young. I'm thirteen. And anyway, I'm meeting my brother. I'm going to live with him in a huge castle," she retorts.
The man gets a twinkle in his eye. "Ah, how grand for you, then. Nothing like having an older brother to look after you and a nice cozy Irish castle all to yourselves."
"It's not—my brother is the most dangerous man in the world," she says.
The man laughs. "To you, he is, I'm sure."
Juliet stares back. "No. He is. The most dangerous man in the world. Someday I'm going to be just like him, only scarier."
The man continues to smile, but he's faltering a bit.
Good.
Remember you can't use my name. You must never use my name.
"Big brother!" she shouts, feeling like an idiot. The airport isn't huge but it's still full of people she doesn't know, people she'll never see again, except that her brother is somewhere in the crowd, waiting for her.
"Butler?" she tries. "Uh…Artemis? Artemis Fowl? Hel-lo?"
And then she spies him, parting the crowd several feet on either side just by walking briskly, with a boy a few years younger than her in his wake.
She shrikes and effortlessly scoops up her enormous duffel bag ("Pack only the essentials, everything else will be provided," Dom had said, but she would need at least four pairs of shoes to start out), running at top speed before landing, carry on and all, in her brother's arms.
Dom finally disentangles from her and releases her gently. "Juliet, this is Artemis. I think you'll find that he's very…mature for his age. Artemis, this is my sister, Juliet Butler."
"Pleased to make your acquaintance," says the small, pale boy, his hand outstretched.
"Uh…yes. You too," she says, a little taken aback. His hand is freezing. "Listen, I don't mean to be rude, but isn't your name a little…weird? For a boy?"
"It is my father's name."
"Oh. Cool. I guess. Well, Artemis, I guess we're going to have to learn to like each other, since we're going to be living in the same house and all. I'm Juliet. I said that already, shit—"(Dom looked at her sharply.) "Oops, Sorry, D-big brother. Sorry. I'm just, jet-lagged. Also I talk a lot. When I'm nervous. Which is understandable, don't you think, Artemis? God, that's long name."
"Understandable, yes," says Artemis, and his lips twitch in a faint imitation of a smile.
"He likes you," says, Dom, with considerable surprise. "He isn't always, so, ah, smiley around strangers."
"I'm easy to like," she returns, trying to mask her apprehension. That's this kid's definition of smiley?
"I hope you'll find Fowl manor comfortable," says the strange boy.
"Yeah, well, I mean, you live in like, a castle, or whatever, so, I'm sure I will."
"Fowl manor is not a castle, although it is quite old and quite large." Artemis' tone holds a surprising amount of condescension for a nine year old. It makes her angry and a little sad, for some reason.
She looks at Dom, eyes narrowed. "You said it was a castle."
"I did not. I said it was a manor."
For the first time in her life, Juliet Butler feels stupid.
Sixteen (Crush)
It seems ridiculous, but it's what happened: none of them, not even Juliet, had entertained the possibility that a fairy could look like a grown woman.
A very pretty woman.
Artemis hasn't quite hit puberty yet, and Juliet is confident her brother is asexual, so their interest in this fairy's appearance is more clinical than anything else.
Juliet knows that they both think a kidnapped female fairy is more vulnerable and pitiful than a male one, which deeply annoys her.
But it's clear that they've pushed that thought from their minds, and soon enough Artemis moves forward with the plan, and there is surveillance equipment to set up and guard duty for both Butlers.
Juliet is glad that she has something to do because she can't stop staring.
The elf's name is Holly, which makes Juliet thinks of bells ringing, except this creature's voice is nothing like that, even when she's speaking her native language.
Her actual voice is harsh and low and uncompromising, and Juliet finds she likes that too.
Juliet doesn't sleep through the night (she never did, really) but suddenly she finds herself thinking about this fairy soldier, this Captain, when she's staring at her ceiling in the early hours of the morning.
It's not just the fact that her ears are pointed, or that she's the size of a small child, that makes her otherworldly.
It's everything else, too: her unbelievable skin, the color of burnt wood, and her lips and her cropped red hair and her eyes—Juliet has never seen eyes like Holly's. How can brown eyes with flecks of green and gold look so much like an approaching storm?
Holly herself is an approaching storm, but she's the eye of the hurricane too; when she stops fighting and starts silently regarding her captors with terrifying, brilliant silence.
She might actually be smarter than Artemis.
It's a thought Juliet holds on to, before it's stolen from her.
Twenty-Two (Love)
Juliet knows she's in trouble when, after years of having no memory of the fairies or the LEP or the people she's come to think of as a weird surrogate family, and then finally being reunited with them, she still feels like she's missing someone.
When they're all together, when her brother and Holly (who is surprisingly, endearingly touched to learn Juliet harbored feelings for her all those years ago, after Juliet tells her in a quiet, impulsive moment) and Mulch and Foaly and poor, sick Arty are together again, she's still not herself.
Nobody knows she left someone behind in Cancun. Then again, no one ever asked.
Maria Ortiz is the best wrestler in Mexico before Juliet arrives, and the two women were probably predestined to kill each other or fall in love.
Juliet sometimes thinks they'll accomplish both.
She offers to get better at Spanish for Maria (right now she's hardly at conversational level) and Maria only clicks her tongue and says that having a language Juliet can't fully understand keeps her sane.
"Couples need their secrets," she says.
"Oh, is that what we are?" Juliet asks teasingly.
Maria rolls over to look Juliet. "You always fuck your enemies like that?"
Juliet laughs. It's the first time she's really laughed in a while.
She can't remember meeting anyone as funny as Maria, ever. Her brother has the sense of humor of a Brussels sprout; Artemis has recently asserted that the funniest person in the world is some ancient Chinese philosopher Juliet has never heard of, and the Fowls in general are disappointingly lacking in traditional Irish wit.
If her mind wasn't wiped, she'd remember how funny Holly is, but she won't remember how funny Holly is for months.
"Will you at least teach me how to say, like, you are beautiful and I will love you forever?" Juliet pleads.
Eres bella y yo te amaré por siempre.
"Can you speak Spanish now, Mudgirl?" Holly asks, turning towards Juliet.
"Si. Te amo," Juliet says, but she's not talking to Holly.
Twenty-Nine (Marriage)
Juliet has only seen Artemis beg a few times in his life, and it doesn't suit him.
He's sweating, for one thing, and he's using contractions, for another.
"Juliet, please. I know I'm not the love of your life—"
"Well, you certainly know how to sweep a girl off her feet…"
"…But I'm not asking you to fall in love with me. I'm asking you to do this for me, as my oldest friend. My only friend."
"Do you think he would have wanted this?" Juliet asks. They both know which he she means.
Artemis doesn't respond right away. He runs a hand through his hair—something Holly used to do, Juliet remembers—and sighs. He's very handsome now; less angular than he had been as a teenager, but there are dark circles under his eyes and Juliet wonders how much longer he'll go without developing premature lines on his face.
"I honestly can't say Juliet. I don't know." Of course he doesn't. She doesn't know either.
"You know I'd never ask if I didn't think it was wholly necessary," he continues, after a moment. "But Mother's in no condition, and I want the twins to continue to have some semblance of a childhood. It would be…unthinkable to run Fowl industries without a partner." (Twelve-year old Artemis would have balked at this, Juliet thinks, but Artemis is not a child anymore.)
She halfheartedly considers asking him what makes him think he won't meet someone some day; after all, he's barely into his twenties. But she doesn't think he would dignify that with a response, and she can't say she'd blame him.
Juliet was twenty-two when her brother died, and ironically, Artemis is the same age when his father has a fatal heart attack. Twenty-two is younger than most people understand.
Then again, Holly was probably the closest thing to the love of Artemis' life, and you don't often lose the love of your life before your sixteenth birthday, either.
Juliet realizes just how many threads hold her and Artemis together.
She eventually told Artemis about Maria, some time after the final events Fowl Manor. It would have been impossible to go back to her after Butler's death, just like it would have been impossible for Artemis and Holly after the L.E.P. sealed off all entrances to the surface for good.
We're still too young for this shit, Juliet thinks.
Artemis gestures helplessly at the bed, near tears. "We don't have to…"
Juliet looks at the man she's known since they were both children, the only person in the world she has left, and she finds herself smiling because it's all she can do to keep them both from coming apart.
"It's okay, Arty. I'd be honored."
Eventually they do, although not right away.
They are wounded soldiers, damaged goods, broken fragments of what they once were, and the sex is out of desperation more than anything else.
It's okay, actually. Nicer than Juliet expected. She was afraid she would find the idea too much like sleeping with her brother, but her brother is dead and this isn't so bad after all. Artemis is careful and thorough, the way he always is.
The wedding is only for immediate family. Who else would they invite? Juliet doesn't want to wear white and Artemis is okay with that, too, although Angeline is a bit put out.
She wears green for Dom.
Artemis says they only really need to brush lips at the altar, but as a gesture of…something, she kisses him for real, and he's warmer and somehow more human than she thought he'd be. When they break apart Angeline is sobbing quietly, and later on she tells Juliet so earnestly that she always hoped they'd fall in love that Juliet almost feels guilty.
There are no children. Juliet was explicitly clear about that and Artemis more than agreed. The twins, whose only tragedy in life is the loss of their father, will more than flourish and give Angeline the grandchildren she wants, if she lives long enough to see them.
Artemis and Juliet Fowl never fall in love with love each other, never find anything romantic about their situation (because what is there to be romantic about, really?) but they soldier on, and Juliet is glad she doesn't have to die alone.