To bittersweetness, which is the only kind of sweet I'll ever want,
To Janis Ian, for writing the perfect song,
To the repeat button, for keeping me company,
And to Opal Roseblossom, for reminding me that I should never relinquish my pen.
Thank you.
I don't want to ride the milk train anymore.
I'll go to bed at nine and waken with the dawn.
And lunch at half-past noon, dinner prompt at five,
The comfort of a few old friends long past their prime.
Holly glanced up from setting the table and moved to the door. She thought she had heard a noise; was her guest here already? Surely it wasn't that late...? But time had a habit of slipping away these days. Holly walked over to the mantelpiece and looked at the clock, then shook her head. She still had a half an hour before Vinyaya was due; she must've been imagining things. Or perhaps the noise had been her neighbors, that would be it. She had been part of that at one time, too. If she had been over at someone's house, now was when she would have been coming home.
The neighborhood that Holly had chosen was peaceful and full of people her age. Holly had chosen it specifically for that reason. She didn't want to be around the younger crowd who never seemed to sleep. That pace was just too fast for her anymore. So she'd looked for somewhere like this, not too far away from things, but secluded enough from the bustle of inner Haven. The other residents were also retirees with nothing to do all day but sit around and talk.
When Holly had moved in, everyone was very welcoming. She had easily fallen into the area's way of life, where everyone on the block knew everyone else. The morning strolls and afternoon tea parties had become a part of her schedule, and there were days when she would do nothing but talk to the other women who lived nearby. After awhile, though, Holly grew sick of spending her days gossiping and drinking tea. She had never been the most social person, and it was hard to pretend that Mr. Next Door's questionable activities really mattered to her. She began to distance herself from the talk, slowly at first. The other ladies had eventually gotten the point, and though she had a standing invitation to tea after lunch, Holly was never expected anymore. Holly didn't really mind. She hadn't felt much connection with the others, anyway. She had remained unmarried and therefore had no children to fuss over and no husband to complain about. The neighbors were still on good terms with Holly, but they didn't understand the life she'd had. She didn't dare mention the life she'd wanted.
Holly tore her head away from the window she had been gazing out. She was getting lost in her memories, something that now happened rather frequently. This was not the time, though; she could reminisce about the old days when she had nothing else to do. She turned to go out to the dining room again, but as she did, something caught her eye. It was that picture, half hidden behind a pile of books. A younger Holly Short gazed out from it, happily and almost mockingly. Looking in the mirror now, Holly could hardly recognize LEP Officer Short that she had once been. It had been years since she'd done anything remotely resembling exercise, and though she wasn't fat, she no longer had the slim figure she had once been so proud of. Her hair had grown out, too, and the auburn had long since faded away. The biggest difference, though, was in her eyes. The fire they had once held had gone out a few centuries ago, but Holly was sure she still had some sort of spark inside. Or at least the coals, gently smoldering and looking for a reason to flame up once more. Holly sighed and sadly turned away from the image. No use living in the past. She had work to do.
Pass the tea and sympathy for the good old days long gone.
We'll drink a toast to those who most believe in what they've won.
It's a long, long time 'til morning plays wasted on the dawn.
I'll not write another line, for my true love is gone.
Vinyaya rang the doorbell at five on the dot, punctual as ever. All the years of LEP service had made their mark on the Commander, and the same had happened to Holly. Even in her old age, Holly woke at six every morning. She suspected that the habit was so deeply ingrained it would die only when she did.
Holly invited Vinyaya in and the two sat down for dinner. It was a tradition now; they had gotten together for dinner once a month for almost as long as Holly could remember. Neither of them had married as a result of being in the force. Holly had never had much time for men anyways, and no one in Haven had struck her as being particularly special. She'd tried; she'd gone out with a few men, but she had never felt a connection. Then she had been promoted, working her way up the ranks until she became Commander. All hopes of Holly ever having much of a social life had died then. There was simply too much for her to do. By the time Holly had resigned, she was too old to consider dating again. By her age, all the good men were taken; if a man was still single then there was a good reason for it. Holly gave up, and she'd been alone ever since.
These get-togethers with Vinyaya were a good thing for Holly. She hardly had any close friends anymore, especially females. She still talked to Foaly and everyone else she'd known from her years in the LEP, but for some reason most people didn't like to indulge in a good chat like Vinyaya did. Vinyaya had urged Holly to go out and find other friends, but Holly didn't even know where to start. Vinyaya had no trouble being social, but she had always been more of a people person than Holly, anyway. And Holly didn't mind the solitude. Aside from the people she talked to, there was no one else she wanted to see anymore.
Dinner was a fun affair, as always. But as the two talked, Holly found she could not keep focused. Her mind kept straying to the picture. Holly couldn't remember the last time that she'd actually looked at it; she almost avoided it these days. The emotions it brought back were too much for her to deal with. She'd rather not think about it anyhow. There was no returning to back then and Holly told herself she had no wish to. Somehow, though, Holly had never outgrown the days when she was young and selfish. She knew that she never would, but tried not to brood on her memories anyway. Some things were better off not mentioned.
Vinyaya noticed her lack of attention, though, and commented on it.
"Just remembering the good old days," Holly replied. She had an odd urge to tell Vinyaya everything, but that probably wasn't necessary. Holly had often joked that Vinyaya knew her better than she knew herself. Besides, she couldn't find the right words to describe everything. She sighed heavily. "I miss those times."
Vinyaya chuckled. "Holly Short, getting nostalgic. Who would've guessed?"
Holly replied with a laugh of her own, and the moment passed.
The two continued chatting over tea and cookies, but Vinyaya soon decided that she'd best be heading off. Business to attend to, she said. Even though she was older than Holly, she was still at work. She'd been doing it so long that she couldn't bear to give it up, and Holly wasn't sure whether she was jealous of Vinyaya's dedication.
Holly walked her friend to the door and watched as she drove off, one of the small bits of happiness that Holly had been able to hold on to.
When the guests have done, I'll tidy up the rooms.
I'll turn the covers down, and gazing at the moon,
I'll pray to go quite mad and live in long ago.
When you and I were one, so very long ago.
As her friend's taillights disappeared around the corner, Holly trudged back to the kitchen to clean up. Having Vinyaya around always lightened her heart and banished the loneliness, if only for a few hours. As she worked, she went on autopilot: leftovers in the fridge for tomorrow, dishes washed, counters cleaned, floor swept. The work held no meaning, but it gave kept her hands occupied and gave her time to think.
Holly caught herself dwelling on the picture once more and shook herself. It was like Vinyaya had said. Holly Short, getting nostalgic? It wasn't right.
Holly put the broom away and moved quietly through her house, looking for more work to distract her. She dusted some of the furniture and vacuumed the floor, but didn't spend long on either task. She had never been domestic, and maybe it was for the best that she didn't marry. She didn't know how she'd be able to take care of a husband. Half of the time she didn't take care of herself.
Holly worked her way through the house, ending up in her bedroom. She had never been a particularly neat fairy, and her room reflected it. With a sigh, she started to pick up the dirty clothes she had piled on the floor. This room had needed a cleaning for a long time, and she couldn't think of a better time to do it. All to soon, though, she was done. The mess had been mostly superficial; under the piles of stuff she had left out, everything was organized. Holly considered going to bed, but it was too early. She'd never be able to sleep. There were probably other things that needed cleaning, though. She would do it now before she thought of anything better to occupy her time.
She moved back down the hall towards the living room, picking up scraps of paper and dusting the lights. She wiped off the glass figurines on the display table next to the sofa. She smiled; they had been a housewarming gift from Foaly. She moved around the room in a circle, at last reaching the fireplace. Stay away, she told herself. You don't want to see that picture again. Half of her didn't; she had always tried to run away from her emotions. But the other half of her was sensible, at least sometimes, and told her that it wouldn't be a bad thing to remember.
Holly slowly dusted the clock and then moved on to clean the small collection of books that she'd shoved the frame behind. Her hands lagged, delaying the moment she'd reach the other side of the pile. She shifted the books ever so slightly to reach a spot behind them that was dusty when a glint of gold caught her eye. The picture. She picked it up, cradling it in both hands, and blew the dust off of it. She should clean it better, she knew, but right now she didn't want to. She allowed her fingers to trace the frame like they'd used to, feeling the bumps and ridges in the design. It was beautiful, probably custom made, with a pattern of holly leaves wrapping around the edge. Pure gold, and probably worth a fortune. Aurum potestas est.
She collapsed onto the couch and let her eyes devour the picture. The first thing Holly looked at was herself: short auburn hair, eyes alight with happiness, and a mischievous sort of smile playing around her lips. That alone almost brought tears to her eyes; she hadn't felt that alive for centuries. When she had blinked away her emotions, Holly's eyes roamed to the figure standing next to her. Taller than she, pale-skinned, raven black hair, and piercing eyes; one blue and one hazel. Artemis Fowl the Second.
Holly's chest constricted and this time there were too many tears to hold back. She still remembered the day this picture had been taken, though she now forgot the reason behind it. If she closed her eyes, she could feel the breeze in her hair and the sun on her face. The grass beneath her feet. His arm thrown casually around her shoulders.
She replayed the moment in her mind once again, as she had used to do for years in her dreams. Even though it had been so long ago, it remained clear in her mind. The leaves had rustled overhead, and Artemis' voice still sounded softly in her ear. "Come on, Holly," he had said, as he pulled her close for the shot.
And she remembered, so vividly, how they'd stayed like that for a few seconds longer than necessary, after the picture had been taken. Artemis' arm had tightened around her shoulders ever so briefly and hers around his waist. It had felt so natural at the time. Artemis wasn't the type of guy she would have pictured herself ending up with, but he'd somehow been the closest match she'd found. Though he was never particularly strong, as Holly had envisioned her dream husband, he had a special sort of spark inside of him. When you combined that with his brains, it made up from everything else he may have lacked. Even as he'd gotten old, he'd aged gracefully; at age 60 he was voted Ireland's most eligible bachelor. And that last time Holly had seen him, just a few days before he'd died, he was still fighting to hold on. Even in his old age he had a certain beauty to him, but it was the fighting spirit that Holly had loved and missed most. She'd never found quite the same thing in anybody else.
Holly set the picture down on the table so she wouldn't ruin it with her tears. She let herself cry for the first time in years.
Pass the tea and sympathy for the good old days long gone.
Let's drink a toast to those who most believe in what they've won.
It's a long, long time 'til morning plays wasted on the dawn.
I'll not write another line, for my true love is gone.
Wiping her eyes, Holly raged at the unfairness of it all. She had never quite fit in here, but this life was what she had been given to make the most of. Often when she was young, she had wished that she was human, who cared if it meant she'd die in 80 years? It wouldn't have mattered. The extra years that she lived meant nothing to her. Had she ever done anything good? She couldn't think of one thing worth remembering that she'd done on her own, without Artemis by her side.
If she was human, she would have at least had a chance with him. He knew as well as she that fairies and humans weren't meant to mix anymore, so neither of them had brought up the possibility. Was that a good thing? Holly wondered. More than anything, she wished she could see Artemis once again and tell her what he'd meant to her. She'd never been brave enough to tell him that she loved him, because she was never sure if he felt the same way. Every time her grabbed her hand or pulled her in for a quick hug, she feared it was purely platonic. She wasn't sure that he'd ever seen how much love she held in her actions, and if he felt the same way, he'd never made it clear.
And, of course, there were so many barriers between them. Another reason that Holly had never told him anything. There was too much difference in age, in culture. Possibly in anatomy, but Holly wasn't sure. She'd never gotten close enough to find out. She wondered if Artemis would have let her. If he had loved her, though, he'd kept it inside for a good reason. It would have caused the pair more pain to know that they could never be together even though they both wanted to be. No, it was better they both thought that they were unwanted by the other. That was the only way they'd ever have a chance of getting over each other. Artemis must have known this. If Holly knew something, Artemis knew it as well, and he knew twice as much.
The last time he saw her, just before he died, Artemis asked if she was ever going to settle down and get married. Now that our days of adventuring are over, he had said. Holly had heard, or maybe only imagined, the undertones of that statement; she wondered if Artemis was wishing her well now that they were over. Had he ever cared? He was probably the only person that hadn't protested when Holly said she'd never marry, but that could be because he knew what she meant himself. He had never married either, and Holly forgot to ask him why before she left. A few days later she got an e-mail inviting her to the funeral.
Holly had gone, of course, even discreetly videotaping the whole thing for any interested persons belowground. It was that last glimpse of Artemis, before he had been lowered into the earth, that hurt her most. Artemis' eyes, usually animated, were flat and dull. Holly was sure her eyes reflected his exactly then, and they'd probably stayed that way ever since.
She should have told him. She should have let him know.
When I have no dreams to give you anymore
I'll light a blazing fire and wait within the door.
And throw my life away; 'I wonder why,' they all will say.
Now I lay me down to sleep, forever and a day.
Holly climbed off the couch and went into her room before her brain even knew what she was doing. She looked in the mirror and quickly pulled up her hair; the fairies in Police Plaza had never quite gotten used to displays of femininity. She checked her eyes. Though she had been crying, it wasn't noticeable. She looked perfectly presentable and put together, as she always had. She reached for a necklace that she hadn't worn for centuries, then seemed to reconsider. But in the end she grabbed it and put it on, tucking it under her shirt for safekeeping. Satisfied, she grabbed her keys and went out the door, locking it tightly behind her.
She started down the familiar streets as if she still went to the LEP Headquarters every day. She did have a plan, of sorts. As an ex-LEP Commander, she had certain perks. I was likely that she could get herself an aboveground visa without much hassle. Plus, the current commander was Trouble Kelp's son. She'd always been friends with Trouble, and felt certain that his son would do what he could for her.
People glanced up briefly as Holly entered the building, but their attention was not held for long. Old officers came in all the time for various reasons. Once LEP, always LEP, went the saying. It applied to Holly as well.
Her feet quickly found their way to Trouble, Jr.'s office without the help of her brain. It was the same one she had occupied for many decades. As she had suspected, he was still here. Commanders frequently pulled 16-hour work days. She took a deep breath to compose herself, and knocked on the door.
After exchanging pleasantries, Holly kept the conversation brief. She requested a surface visa, just for 24 hours. Commander Kelp was too tired to ask many questions and knew Holly well enough that he knew she wouldn't cause trouble. Five minutes later, Holly was walking out the door with a visa and instructions to visit Foaly.
Almost like the old days, she thought to herself as she walked down the hall. The only difference was in Commanders—she had served under Commander Julius Root—and the amount of years on everyone. Foal welcomed her into his Ops Booth as always, chiding her because she didn't visit more often. He was right; it had been awhile since Holly had come to see him. She promised she'd come sometime soon so he could update her. He'd have a lot to say. The Ops Booth was bigger than ever and packed with the latest technology. Mercifully, the centaur did not start talking about his latest inventions. He had calmed down a bit since getting married, and learned the right time to brag about his advancements. He hardly even boasted about the new wings that she would get to use. Marriage, or perhaps it was time, had mellowed him as well. When Holly told him she was planning on taking E1 to the surface, Foaly only smiled at her sadly. Though she had never told Foaly about her feelings for Artemis, she knew that he had figured it out. Once upon a time, a few years after Artemis' death, the centaur had pushed her to be social again and meet some people. Holly had resisted and Foaly's expression showed that he understood. Holly would never want anyone else.
Foaly gently steered Holly toward E1, giving her a prototype of his newest wings. Holly smiled gratefully at his silence and climbed into the pod, preparing to ride to the surface once more.
Holly easily made it aboveground, having remembered all of the essentials of flying. She stepped into the cool Irish air, the scent bringing back more memories. It was sweeter now, more clean, and Holly almost missed the tang of pollution. Everything had changed up here. She wanted old days back.
Swallowing her tears—now was not the time for sentimentality—Holly started up her wings and quickly ascended into the night, heading toward Dublin. It wasn't a long flight, and it felt good to feel the wind in her hair again. Twenty minutes later she touched down in the cemetery, only a few yards away from the Fowl plot. Silently she approached it, only pausing to pick flowers from the nearby bushes. There, on the end, was the tomb she was looking for. Was it an accident, she wondered, that Artemis was placed alone even in death? He did not even have a fancy monument as seemed to be Fowl custom, and she wondered if that had been his choice. He had eventually learned a sort of humility. Or was there no one who loved him enough to make his final resting place as grand as his life had been? No matter the reason, she looked at Artemis' last mark on the world. A marble headstone, with what she knew was specially requested fairy lettering forming a border. And ornate text in English too, readable by anyone who cared to visit. Artemis Fowl II.
Holly sunk down to her knees and laid her flowers on Artemis' grave, wishing she'd thought to bring something more. What else could she give him, though? What else could he want? She leaned closer to his grave as if she could somehow feel him, and in doing so, felt her necklace shift. She pulled it out and saw herself reflected in it. It was fitting that she should wear it once again, and her fingers traced over it much like they had the picture frame. Aurum potestas est. It had signified the start of everything, and been there in the end. She had once given this coin to Artemis, to remind him of his decency. He had given it back before he died to remind her of him.
Holly wondered if he was watching her somehow. In her mind, she pictured not the old man or the sixty year old bachelor, but the smiling teenager; the laughing twenty year old. He had aged so much faster than she and in the end been ripped away, ripping her heart out with his death.
She cried now as she never had for him, releasing the raw pain in her heart and the hopelessness she had carried with her ever since. No one in the fairy world had known Artemis as well as she had, and she'd never given herself a chance to think about how much he meant to her. She opened her mouth to speak the words she'd never been able to say, but even now they died on her lips.
Holly curled up on the grass next to Artemis' grave, preparing to spend the night there with him. If she couldn't tell him how she felt, she'd show it instead. Time had neglected him, and the same days, years, and decades had finally beaten her down. Once again she felt a yearning for the days when she was young and invincible. Back when no problem could perturb her because she knew Artemis would help her fix it. It had been too long, and there was nothing left of that part of her anymore. She'd died inside long ago and was condemned to live out her years quietly. There was nothing that Holly could do about anything anymore. If there were gods, they hadn't listened to her prayers for many years. Holly pulled the necklace from around her neck and let it drop on the ground next to her where she could see it, something to keep her company. Even if it no longer belonged to Artemis, it was of him, almost as if it was his ghost. Her tears dripped into the grass and Holly pulled her knees into her chest, but didn't move. She'd stay here for Artemis like she should have done so long ago.
She couldn't bear to lose him again.
Pass the tea and sympathy, for the good old days are dead.
Let's drink a toast to those who best survived the life they've led.
It's a long, long time 'til morning, so build your fires high,
Now I lay me down to sleep, forever by your side.
