Wow, It's been a while. Well, a new school year does that. Sorry guys.
Anyhow, this is story #2. I won't say much, I need to study for finals (yikes!), so here is my summary:
What if Sophie left? In Chapter 38-40 of What the Voices Say, what if Sophia had said "no" in the end? What if she did go to New York? What would happen to Artemis?
She keeps her promise and visits every year. She calls. She doesn't do dangerous things. She is a good girl. She has her freedom—yet not. What if you loved someone so much, that you left them? What if they prevented you from moving on, kept you in guilt for everyday of your life?
He pretends to be in control. He has is empire, his gold, his intellect to shield him. He can have anything. But what if the one thing you wanted most of all wasn't in your grasp, wasn't worth any of it, just walked out for no real reason? What if you were so smart to keep from the brink of insanity, but so over the edge to scheme it all array?
A plan. Perfect, beautiful, nearly foolproof.
A threat. Plain, avoidable, undeniably existent.
A promise.
A love.
A hate.
A perfection. Tempting, worth more than…than…
This is the essence of What the Voices Cry.
Oh yes, it is cheese-filled and dramatic!
Review, I'll love you. ~Dania.
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Artemis Fowl had aged well. One might attribute this fact to his close contact with the Fairy People, severely early maturing, or perhaps good genetics. Whatever it was, the gift did not get full appreciation from its owner. Artemis never bothered in being vain; he hadn't any reason to. Not since someone had woke up beside him, teasingly saying he looked like a dream with 5 o'clock shadow and rumpled hair. That someone had been long gone indeed, and Mr. Fowl saw no reason to preen without that someone to comment sarcastically.
Tall, black hair with roots revealing gray, lean and handsome with angular features of a blueblood, Artemis was, as one Good Morning America reporter said, "Irish eye candy". He was even more so if one were to count his billions. Every major newspaper and tabloid kept tabs on the bachelor, offering celebrity and royal matches. Some even made suggestions toward preferences unacceptable by most. Not that Artemis knew. Or cared. He had little time to ponder the headlines in the flashy, ridiculous excuses for news media.
The only thing Artemis Fowl truly cared about anymore wasn't even in his grasp, the reason why he was so very occupied with it. Money could come and go, the Fowl had their billions. The company rarely was the one keeping him up at night. Transatlantic calls haunted his thoughts, dates his sleep. Artemis counted down the days between each phone call and each visit meticulously, making Nostradamus-like predictions. On the days of these all he took the entire day to himself, shutting the doors of his room, reliving memories kept dear.
If the calls were late Artemis became rather testy ordering informants about in a raging manner to "Find her, bloody hell! If anything has happened to her I will ensure you never…find her!", yelling at staff, ignoring his glorious empire for days.
But that was Sophia. Disorganized, disarrayed, late and utterly annoying.
Every six months or so Sophie called. Sometimes once every third month. In July she came back to Fowl Manor. It was huge event in the household. All of the staff dreaded the time like CPAs "anticipated" tax season. Artemis aired out her rooms all of June, ordered her favourite foods, repainted rooms and did his best to work up that annual illusion of contentment. Yet she easily saw through the delicate façade. As horribly Hallmark as it sounded, Artemis Fowl II was broken. Terribly so. And by her hand.
Oh, and she knew how much the phone calls hurt. But somehow she had to monitor him. Juliet could only tell her so much; Artemis hardly spoke anymore. When he did it was only rarely personal and never about his emotions. Talking to him occasionally assured her of his well-being, frail as it might be.
Between the visits, Christmas and birthday cards, and phone calls Artemis's life was dull, nothing similar to his childhood. He invented, wrote, debated and stunned the world repeatedly. Sometimes Holly came up (literally), though not as much either would like. There wasn't any reason for her to visit; you cannot save the world if it is not in peril.
Well, nearly peril less. The worst thing was already in a decline. Holly proposed to Artemis a "Go-Green" campaign, borrowing some of the LEP natural resources department's methods to market under Fowl Industries. Since the owner was to be severely monitored and the entire process helpful to the planet, Foaly and the Council agreed. Global warming was on a decline, and now the Council spoke of more visas to places once considered too toxic for the People. So many fairies were clean out of magic with a sudden population boom and lack of shuttles for the full moon days, they were taking risks.
Artemis also founded a few Fair Trade stores and websites. He marketed pills that removed methane gas from both humans and cows. Jobs were offered at Fowl Industries for those with potential but no money for education. There was a Fowl Star university scholarship fund. He kept busy.
It still wasn't enough.
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The gods indeed must have been smiling upon her today. Fortune this great was rare.
It was Juliet who met her at the airport. Not Butler or Artemis, the dark duo who usually greeted her back to the country. Juliet typically waited in the car, bouncing to see her friend. Sophie thought it odd, but was not particularly concerned. Artemis might just have gotten caught up in a meeting, or waited in the car… "Right. Like he hasn't had this day highlighted on his calendar for the last 10 months, screamed at anyone who suggested a event even within a week of my arrival…prat." If anything was wrong the Butler girl would be the one to tell her.
As the years flew, Juliet Butler was allowed constant contact with Sophia. They'd most kept contact through emails, on occasion a call, and were together excited about Sophia's yearly visits. Or, at least, Juliet was. Female companionship was hard to come by in her career path--both in the body guarding and professional wrestler businesses. Sophie was one of few who gladly kick boxed with her, and of an even smaller group who won.
"Hey! Iver, this way!"
Juliet, energetic as always, waved one perfectly French-tipped finger, grinning. Regardless of Sophia's suddenly darkened mood, she couldn't resist smiling back. Fighting her way through the crowd waiting for baggage, she offered the older woman a one-armed hug, the other limb being occupied by her carry-on.
"How are you? Still guarding that pale blueblood?" Sophie joked, snagging her gray Dockers suitcase with one hand, extending the handle with one kick aimed at the base. Anyone would've thought they were grand old friends, not a protective escort and her scheming charge.
"Yes. And he's as demanding as always." Something about Juliet's tight smile made Sophie consider there must have been some stress involving her arrival for the Fowl employees. Even the Butlers hadn't escaped it, not this year. "Oh my. He's gotten worse."
"Is that possible?" The snide voice of her sister asked.
Sophie backtracked. "How's Butler? Still got that cottage, by the sea? Do you see him often?"
The chatted about this and other civil nonsense all during the walk the course of the Dublin International Airport and on the drive "home". Five o'clock traffic took them some time to wade through, but they made it to the outskirts in no time. Sophie admired the car; a shiny black Enviro Car designed by Artemis, just three years on the market. His was completely cherried out in hardwood on the dash, automatically adjusting gel-seats, state-of-the-art stereo and vocal command operations. She's considered purchasing one months ago, but decided it was inconvenient in the city. Besides, Artemis would know the instant her credit card scanned and would gripe about the transaction for ages--"I would've gladly provided one, Sophie. A gift—I designed it after all, you know they give me a few to dish out to employees and whatnot."--something she would rather not hear.
They were less than one kilometer from the gate when Sophia asked the question the pair had been tensed for during the length of the drive. Every year, when they reached the gate, she asked. It was standard. Sometimes it was Butler who received the questions. Sometimes, she could ask it before she even saw him, like in this instance. But in the end, she had to judge for herself.
The first: "Is he sleeping at night?"
"Yes, a little better than last you ask. Thanks for the tip, by the way. Chamomile and mint was helpful."
The second: "Good. Is he…keeping busy?"
Juliet hesitated. "Lately he's been on these…business trips…without me or Butler along. They're not in the best of places, either. If he were going across the channel I could understand him not wanting to take us, but to places like…these place? I'm worried." Her voice drifted. Sophie hardly heard the last words come out of any Butler's mouth. "I'm afraid he's planned something…but I can't say what."
Sophie gritted her teeth. The older woman's drifty manner suggested a determination to say something without outright saying it. Sophia was not in the mood for deciphering today. "Juliet…"
"Some of these places are just suicidal. I'm afraid that's what he's trying, subconsciously. Every time, pushing himself a little bit farther, mouthing his hosts a little bit more."
Artemis might well be acting it out. Then again, it could all be subconscious. But he was far too sly for that.
Whatever it was, Sophie could safely say it was influenced by her decision eight years ago. She honestly wasn't being vain! All evidence agreed. Artemis's life was so screwed up by her departure, his concept of normal human mortality diminished to a point where the only reason he was still breathing was for his parent's sake.
That was not to say it was necessarily Sophia who was solely at fault; she was just the focus. Sophie had been the final block of the already tumbling pyramid. She was placed, briefly, in a position to lend support, but it ended up being an unstable place to put her block, so the whole thing kept falling down slowly in the progression of years. Minerva had started the descend, Sophia just helped it along.
Sophia did not consider it her fault. Artemis was a grown man, mature and exceptionally gifted in many forms. She had guilt over her actions yes, but did not regret them. Yes, she felt pity for him, felt terrible, wanted to help-but at this point the only person who could possibly help Artemis was himself.
The third: "And does he still-" She swallowed. "he still-saying-"
"He still does, Sophie. All the time. Every night. The same words."
If she could take it all back, she would. If she could keep the pyramid from falling in, she would. If there was a way to beat it into his thick skull that it was not his fault! They were both to blame. Were they? If she could…
She would.
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Please review. Sorry about the errors, I was in a hurry to post.
~Dania