Title: Elysium

Author: damnielle / littlefishh

Description:Audrinne Redalucci is seventeen-year-old model about to hit it big in Paris; the stick in the mud is… she's colourblind. She solicits the help of a familiar healer in Vietnam, ultimately leading her to Artemis Fowl, in hopes to pour colour into her future. Before the magical restoration can be performed, Artemis and Audrinne find themselves in possession of an unexpected acquisition: another mouth to feed.

Pairings:Artemis/OC, Holly/Trouble, Foaly/Caballine

Rating:MA for sexual scenes and themes, language, and general ridiculousness.

02. Artemis and Audrinne are scheduled for dinner with Armani, Trouble is brewing, and Foaly does some snooping

When the call came, Artemis put his fairy phone to his head and then blushed when he realized it was his own modern cell phone. He was so accustomed to being telephoned by Butler or Holly that he did not recognize the ringtone for an unlisted caller. Butler had just flown in to Berlin after dismissing Minerva, so he and the manservant picked up clone phones so they could each listen for danger.

"Artemis Fowl, Junior," he said calmly.

"Signor Fowl!" The voice opposite him was masculine and heavily Italian. "Buon giorno!"

Artemis was running voice diagnostics through his pirated LEP software. Two matches came up: a hitman from Belize who was currently incarcerated in Colorado's maximum-security prison and the highly notable fashion designer Giorgio Armani. He selected the latter. "Mister Giorgio Armani. How do you do?"

The laughter on the other end was thick and rich. "You are a smart man, Mister Fowl. I am doing very well, all things considered. And yourself?"

Artemis smiled. He hadn't called him a boy. He was a man to the Italian. "I, too, am doing quite well. Might I inquire why you graced me with a phone call?"

He grimaced at Butler, but Italians were easily curry-favoured with flattery. Armani was no different. "You are a true fan. I heard you have flown into Florence for the weekend?"

Butler shook his head violently. Armani could be trying to ascertain his location underhandedly. "You are mistaken, sir. I am visiting my parents on a golf vacation. I have no plans of ever being in Florence."

"Ah, I see," he said, and Artemis sensed that Armani caught wind of his secrecy. "Well, I was calling to invite you to a business dinner at my Waterfall chalet on the river. I am in the market for a consultant in both business and advertising."

Artemis ignored Butler's glare. "I would be happy to join you in Florence, Mr. Armani. It would be quite the honor. What dates are we looking at?"

"When can you make it?"

"Tomorrow evening at the earliest," he said politely.

"Dizionario! I shall have a limo pick you up from the airport. Consider this an interview, Mr. Fowl. My favourite employee will be there as well. If she likes you, then I am sure you are the man for the job."

Man again. "She?"

"Yes. My long time muse, the young Audrinne Redalucci. I shall have to fly her in immediately." A snapping noise sounded over the line and his voice sounded distant even though he was shouting. It was Italian with a Tuscan accent. "Guiana! Call Marcelle and get Audrie in to Florence at once!"

Artemis was thoroughly excited right now. "Alright, Mr. Armani. I shall be delighted to see you in Florence tomorrow evening."

"The pleasure is mine, good sir. Arrivederci, Signor."

Artemis had a search running on 'Audrinne Redalucci' before he even closed the phone. He had heard the name before, but he was not one to keep up with celebrities in the tabloids. He found an entry on Wikipedia and several scans of People magazine. Her personal website came up after some more in-depth searching.

" 'Audrinne Portia Redalucci is the youngest model to ever walk the Parisian runway, having walked for Giorgio Armani's 'ready-to-wear' spring line in 2007 at age fifteen. Redalucci is best known for her work with correspondent haute couture master Giorgio Armani. She is the face of Armani's 2008 fragrance, Sanctuary, and was the face of the Canon Powershot series (March 2007-February of 2008) and Steve Madden's 2008 line of shoes, titled Redalucci.' On Forbes 100 Hottest Minors of 2008, she was ranked number one and is the among the highest paid models of her day, averaging 48,000USD for private shoots and 800,000USD for runway appearances."

Butler squinted at the page. "How old is she?"

"Born November 12th, 1991. She turned eighteen last November."

"That's a bit young to be where she is," Butler said. Then he corrected himself. "I take that back, sir. Perhaps she's ambitious like you."

Artemis was now scrolling through her Armani portfolio. "No, she is just pretty."

Butler eyed a picture and raised an eyebrow. She was wearing a bright floral dress and black leather ankle boots framed by metal. She was sitting on a white box and had her chin cradled in her fist, as if bored. But her face was lit up somehow, through some strange inner radiance. Her smile was thin and subliminal, and her eyes a bright green. "Just pretty?"

Artemis was transfixed. "Very pretty. Extremely attractive. She does not look very Italian…pale, yes, but thin and blonde." He toggled his pages. "She was born in Corsica, but that French province is still mostly Italian. Her father is a prominent businessman…he owns several companies and has a decent foothold in American plastics. His estimated worth is one-hundred-and-fifty-six million USD…hers is only thirty."

"At age eighteen, a thirty-million earned fortune is formidable."

Artemis steepled his fingers and turned to face Butler. "Perhaps you forget, my good friend, that I am formidable. I am 'nineteen' years old with numbers in the tens of billions. I am worth more than her entire family. I am worth more than Armani himself, whose own wealth is only four billion. She is nothing next to me."

Butler was not cowed, but he conceded. Artemis changed desks and began connecting to live satellite feeds. He programmed her citizenship ID into the database, and, sure enough, Foaly's software triangulated her position. He zoomed in on the feed.

A pretty blonde girl stared blankly out of a car window, almost in the same pose as her Armani shot only the smile was gone from her face. Someone from within in the limo must have attracted her attention, as she turned her head and smiled sadly. Artemis lip-read her Italian: "I was supposed to take them to the Fountains later today. Instead, I have a five-hour drive to Florence." She sighed and went back to the window. "I miss my family."

And the window rolled up, closing her away. He felt a little guilty, but it quickly dissipated. Artemis cocked an eyebrow. "Interesting." His fingers blurred as he re-entered search data, this time probing for birth certificates from Italy with the last name 'Redalucci'. Using a more complex search algorithm, he managed to cherry-pick hers from the masses. Her name and birth date matched those listed on the Wikipedia entry. He swiped her father's name and used it to search for his children.

"Children of Dante Ettorio Redalucci and Maya Francesca di Solia," he read aloud. "Audrinne Portia, age eighteen; Dante Gianno, age sixteen; Ettorio Lucillus III, age fourteen; Aurelius Iada, age eleven; twins Lucia Coriana and Francesca Battone, ages nine; and Marvalone Giovanni, age eighteen months."

"Quite a gap between the twins and Marvalone," Butler said.

"He is probably a souvenir from a tropical vacation," Artemis said smugly.

"Typical Italians, through and through. Lots of kids. They must be Catholic."

"All were baptized in Saint Ambrose's Basilica, which is indisputably Catholic."

He double-clicked on a search find. A family picture popped up, with an assertive looking man and a meek but happy woman in the background and all seven Redalucci children in the front. Audrinne was in between her parents, sitting on a stool shrouded in children. She had Marvalone on her knee and her free arm slung around one of the twins. The smile splayed on her face was brilliant and easily outshone the others, though it was a good match against the other Redalucci genes. A physical family relation was certainly prevalent: light skin, dazzling smiles, and slender physiques.

"Butler," he said abruptly. "Please schedule a flight in to Florence for tomorrow and delay dinner. I want to do more research on this Redalucci girl."

Holly could kill Foaly for what he had talked her into doing.

Still, it was worth it to see Artemis and Minerva…conducting business. Granted, she was now scarred for life, but it would be endless secret giggling for her and Foaly henceforth. The two were quite an awkward pair…and Holly never could have imagined that Artemis would put up with someone so overbearing. He was weaker than she thought.

As soon as she found herself giggling privately, she remembered what she was doing and sobered. She gathered her resolve and prepared to knock.

This was ridiculous. Foaly had talked her into this. She could short-change the centaur—as he had done to her so many times for kicks and grins—and simply walk away to laugh privately over the scandalous videos. But Holly had honor, even if it was over a dishonorable matter, and videos of two Mud Men child prodigies screwing like trolls was certainly dishonorable.

She raised her hand, pulling her fingers into a fist.

This would be awkward. If Trouble refused her, she decided to attend the concert anyway and bother Foaly the entire time. Besides, she was at least interested in meeting Caballine. But this would turn into quite the grim sacrifice if he did, as things at work would become unpleasantly strange. She swallowed dryly.

Before her hand hit the aluminum-reinforced door, it swung open, giving way to a thoroughly red and steaming Trouble Kelp.

The two stared in awe at the other until Trouble began to turn even redder and Holly cocked her head to one side. "Trouble, why are you smoking?"

He took a fistful of her shoulder and pulled her inside and shut the door firmly. His entire apartment was full of a sweet-smelling smoke. Holly thought the smoke looked a bit pink, but she couldn't tell if it truly was or if she was hallucinating. Trouble was moving around somewhere but she could barely see her hand sin front of her face. A loud whirring noise echoed nearby, and a stove fan began sucking out all the steam. In the clarity, Holly saw that some of it had condensed on her white uniform: the steam was pink.

Over the stove, Trouble was stirring the smoking solution in an iron pot. Holly approached tentatively. The liquid inside was the consistency of melted chocolate and smelled like pomegranate. And it was a deep neon pink.

"Trouble, is that—"

"You tell anybody and I swear I'll—"

"So behind all the buff and muscle, Trouble Kelp is brewing Lorelai Fern's Silky Smooth Skin Salve," Holly said, battling hysteria. "What was the tagline? 'Smooth as a Gnome's Behind'? So those manly muscles you've got are as smooth as Sool's rear. I'm sure he'll be delighted to know."

He hustled her out of the way and stirred angrily. "Sweating dries out my skin. And I sweat a lot because I work hard, Captain."

Holly hardened. "Are you accusing me of slacking?"

"I'm just saying I'm not a pansy."

"I never called you a pansy, Major."

As she said his rank, he remembered his seniority. "Official order. If you tell anyone that I make and use this use, I will make life very miserable for you, Captain."

"You remind me of Julius. All hot air. He just needed to blow me in the right direction. I'm not afraid of you, Trouble." And he knew it was true. His face fell and Holly almost felt bad for him.

Suddenly, she felt Artemis Fowl kick her in the brain as an evil idea popped into her head. "But we could work something out."

"Oh yeah?" said the elf, looking up in hope.

Holly smiled. This was a lot easier now.

Another alert flashed up on Foaly's screen: 'Targets ARTFWL and BUTLER changing position by greater than 10 klicks."

He hit the zoom button and his satellite feeds came up. Luckily, the lens didn't have to focus, as Artemis and Butler were in a plane 10,000 feet above the surface. He sent a sound signal down to pick up conversation. As per usual, it came in clearly. Foaly grinned his impish 'I-am-so-incredibly-clever' grin.

Artemis was flying. "Would it be tacky to wear an Armani tuxedo to the dinner?"

"Would you wear Versace to a Calvin Klein show?"

"I have been to one fashion show, and that was Christian Dior. At the time, there was not a designer men's line from Christian Dior worth wearing."

"Were the surrounding women wearing Dior?"

"I believe so."

"Then you should wear Armani to the meeting. You brought six different Armani tuxedos but only two pairs of loafers. And the pink tie I threw in at the last minute is by Ralph Lauren."

"Order one and have it rushed delivered. I hope Armani is as attuned to his fashion as we are. What do you think Audrinne will wear?"

The Russian sighed, exasperated. "So it begins. What will Audrinne wear? What will Audrinne eat? What languages does Audrinne speak? I almost miss Maria."

"Maria hadn't the nominal or physical beauty of Audrinne. It rolls off the tongue wonderfully." Artemis smiled to himself. "She'll probably be wearing something from Armani's fall collection, no doubt. Something he's never showcased before. She does seem to be his favourite…being a muse for longer than a year in the fashion world is unheard of."

"She might have been so for even longer. Redalucci Imports is one of Armani's big fabric suppliers. That deal was first negotiated when she was a mere lap-child."

"She still is a lap-child."

Butler threw his hands up. "You cannot go into this interview thinking that she is an fashionista prostitute."

"How else would she curry the favour of someone like Armani?"

"Perhaps the same way you did, Artemis: a reputation for entrepreneurship."

Foaly zoomed out and kicked up his search computers. He typed 'Audrinne Redalucci' into the box and waited for it to spit out its results. Artemis was frying bigger fish now; the fashion industry was a new victim for him.