A/N: Soooo…I don't know what to say here. Just that the next person to up my review count simply by saying ":please update" is going to get kicked out. Tell me more than that people! WHY should I update, for starters! I want to know what you like/dislike!

Disclaimer: I don't own Artemis Fowl, I just have my little broken dolls that I play with.

(Bonus points go to anyone who can tell me where inspiration for the chapter titles comes from.)

Chapter Two: In Which Some Things Colfer Didn't NOT Specify About Holly are Revealed but Not Yet Explained

Holly couldn't believe her ears.

"I'm sorry," she said weakly. "I don't think I heard you correctly. I thought you said me."

This time Root was the one to respond.

"Yes, Short," he said tiredly. "You."

The pit Holly had felt open up at their expressions turned into a black hole, sucking all the air from her lungs.

She shook her head slowly. Hearing Root say it somehow made it more real. But still it didn't make sense.

"But...but why me?" Holly looked to Root, the man who she practically considered a father, with wide, desperate eyes. "This is a political marriage, right? Why me? Wouldn't they want someone of royal blood or—"

"You are of royal blood," Helana said, cutting her off sharply. "You are a fourth generation Child of the Gods. You have more royal blood in your little finger than there is left in the entire Frond family."

Holly paled.

"But—"

"No buts!" Helana snapped. "It has been decided. If the humans approve you as the bride, you will marry the Mud Man."

With that, she turned on her heel and left, the small heels of her shoes clicking against the tile as she gracefully swept out of the office.

Holly stared after her blankly, shaking with shock, but it wasn't until Root gently pushed her down into a chair that she realized how close her legs were to giving out.

"This can't be happening." She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees and bowing her head as she tried to regulate her breathing.

Root gripped her shoulder tightly, trying to offer some measure of comfort. "Short—"

Holly wasn't listening. "No. No, I don't believe this."

"Short—"

"They'll want someone they know is royal, not some LEP officer," she said desperately. "They'll never accept anything less. They'll—"

Root finally cut her off. "This is real Short. And they specifically requested a Child of the Gods."

Holly shook her head furiously. "But they don't know about us. They can't. They—"

Again, he cut her off. "They do know. Don't ask me how, but they know."

Holly looked up at him helplessly, panic clear in her eyes.

"What am I supposed to do?" she whispered.

Root looked at her sadly. "You do what you've always done, Holly. I wish I had a different answer, but I don't."

When she looked confused, he continued. "You do what's best for The People."

The next few weeks passed in a blur to Holly.

She was approved as the bride, as she had known she would be once her initial shock wore off. Her linage combined with her high-ranking position in the LEP had left little doubt about that particular issue.

Root had given her the time between the approval and the wedding off. She had tried to refuse — there was still a war going on and the LEP needed her — but Root had snapped that she better get off her high horse because the LEP could damn well last without her for a few weeks.

He was partially right. They ended up having to call her in for several planning sessions and to oversee a few missions, but they'd always send her home immediately afterward. She had things to do, they said.

They were right, even if she didn't want to admit it.

The majority of the basic wedding planning — venue, decorations, food, colors, seating arrangements — Holly had absolutely nothing to do with. Although she did manage to sneak a few of her closest friends onto the guest list.

Because gods know, she thought, they'll never let me invite the people I care about otherwise.

There were, however, a few things she did have to be a part of.

For starters, because she was to marry a human, there were to be two ceremonies — human and fairy — and the human one, she had to learn.

It had turned out that dresses were traditional in human weddings as well as fairy ones. As such, Helana had tried to get her to go dress shopping. Holly had flat out refused.

The councilperson had been furious and demanded she pick one, even going so far as threatening to pick one for her if she didn't, but Holly hadn't budged. She might not be able to say no to the wedding, but she sure as hell could to the dress.

Holly had looked Helana straight in the eyes and told her she was wearing her dress blues and that was final. She was a wing commander first, a woman second, and she wasn't about to let anyone forget that fact.

The more complicated parts of the wedding plans, Holly had no choice but to take part in. As a high ranking member of her clan, not to mention the one getting married, it was her job to prepare the necessary supplies for the fairy ceremony.

Normally, she didn't mind helping out with such things, but since she wanted nothing to do with this particular wedding, she procrastinated as much as possible.

What she couldn't get out of — and quite frankly didn't want to — was Color Guard duty. She was the captain after all.

Preparation for the Presentation of the Colors, Holly dove into eagerly. She'd been a member of the Guard for 46 years and it always had been something she had enjoyed. Plus, she had no intention of letting her current circumstances ruin what was going to be her last performance since only unmarried women born into the clan could be part of the Guard.

Holly spent hours leading practice sessions multiple times a week, far longer and far more often than she normally would have, but no one complained. This was going to be the largest and most important performance of their lives, and they knew it. No one wanted to screw up.

The unspoken, and by far more important reason for not complaining, was that they all knew Holly, and even without being told, they knew the marriage wasn't something she had volunteered for.

All too soon though, the day arrived.

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