"We won't waste your time with nonsense," the stubby elf said the moment Artemis and Holly had been pushed into his office. Iggy Noble, head of the city council, did not even stand to greet them, nor did he introduce himself. Obviously such niceties and manners were part of the nonsense he wouldn't waste their time with. Still, the pair approached the desk and the chairs across from Noble's. Artemis pulled one out for Holly, which she took graciously—not even a quirked eyebrow at the gesture. She was used to it by now. But Artemis did not join her in sitting, opting instead to stand next to her chair, a hand on her shoulder so she knew he was there. The chairs seemed specifically designed to be difficult for a human to sit in without looking a fool. And Artemis did not enjoy looking a fool. So he stood and would remain standing for the duration of this meeting.
"Then let us cut to the chase. Why have you summoned us here this evening? Have we done anything unlawful?" Artemis quarried. Noble snorted.
"Don't play coy, Fowl. We've got it."
"Got what?" Artemis asked, tone neutral but dancing on the edge of mild interest so as to annoy the elf as best as possible.
"A way to break the ancient marriage bonds," Noble said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied smirk. Was it possible that they'd actually found something? Artemis took in the elf before him, recalled also the eagerness of the pixie that had led him and Holly to this room. Noble wasn't bluffing. That didn't mean whatever he'd found would work. But it was possible. Unlikely, but possible, that they'd have found the actual answer in so short a time, all things considered.
"Have you now?" Artemis kept his voice pleasant and a touch confused. "And why would such a thing matter to myself and my wife?"
"Your wife, bah!" Noble scoffed. "A fairy and a human cannot marry."
"And yet, we have. There are no laws against it. And, in fact, there are laws protecting the rights of interspecies couples."
"An oversight," Noble waved his hand dismissively. "No one expected that humans could be considered under those."
"Legally, we are," Artemis countered. For Holly's reputation, he had to give enough of a fight to be believable. To make it seem like they were truly in love and meant to stay married.
"Unless a law excluding humans predates all of those silly oversights."
"What are you implying?"
"You two won't be married for much longer is what I'm implying, Fowl. But the council is reasonable. We don't wish to impose any undue trauma or embarrassment on you. If you'd just naturally find that your relationship has run its course and a divorce is necessary…we could help you out."
"And if we are entirely happy in our current relationship?"
"Then we will have to take you to court. And you don't want that."
"Nor do you," Artemis observed. Holly and Artemis had their share of support among The People. The council wouldn't want the PR mess a trial would cause. But they should have expected Artemis Fowl to bring them as much trouble as possible.
"This is a bad idea, Artemis," Foaly said, dancing nervously around their kitchen.
"It won't be so bad," Artemis assured the centaur. Holly had called him the minute they'd left City Hall, demanding he drop what he was doing and meet them. He'd been in their kitchen, munching on carrots, when they'd arrived home. "I'll bluff a defense. Stage a trial in which Holly and I fought nobly for our love but make sure that we will ultimately be torn apart. The next movie they make of us could be a court drama."
"Or a tragedy," Holly said around her own carrot.
"Oh, it'll be a tragedy, all right," Foaly snickered nervously. "If they force you to break the marriage and the bond that comes with it—it could be bad news, you two."
"How so?" Artemis asked. Was this a hint as to why Foaly had been silent on the breakage of the bond thus far?
"It's supposed to be a choice. Old magic is intuitive, it can feel what you want. The council forcibly snipping it could be dangerous."
"But we do want it gone," Holly said, exasperated. "Does it really matter if it's snipped under false pretenses?"
"It might. That's the thing: we don't really know. Why do you think No. 1 and I haven't been experimenting on you all this time, trying things?"
"What damage could it do, realistically speaking?" Holly asked.
"Having a bond like that forcibly torn from you? Could mess with the workings of your magic, Holly. Could cause brain damage, or a heart attack, especially in Artemis. Could leave you both numb to all feelings for an indeterminate amount of time—possibly forever. We don't know. But bad things have happened, so far as the imp and I can tell from old stories, to fairies who messed with old magics best left alone."
"Do you suppose the council is aware of this?" But Artemis already knew the answer.
"Of course. Can't research the subject for long without running into horror stories. But they care more about setting the precedent about fairy-human marriages than about your safety."
"Thank you, Foaly," Holly said, quiet but somehow commanding all attention to fall on her. "It was good to have you over. I'll be calling again soon."
"What? But I just got here—,"
"Give your wife my love," and she was leading him to the front door and ushering him out. There was no arguing with Holly right now, and Foaly gave Artemis a look that even he could read to mean good luck before dejectedly taking his leave. Holly shut the door and sighed, so tired and frail in that instant that it almost terrified Artemis. Holly was not tired, not like this, not ever. Holly was anything but frail or fragile, even in the worst moments. Moments of defeat and loss and sadness too great to bear. So why did she seem so easily broken, propped against their front door, black pumps kicked off carelessly by her stockinged feet and face buried in a hand?
"Holly," Artemis hedged, but was unsure where to go from there.
"Artemis," she returned, and her voice was as exhausted as her posture and countenance. "We need to rethink this."
"You're worried that Foaly's theories hold truth?"
"Worried?" Holly barked a laugh but it sounded all wrong. "Artemis, I'm terrified."
Artemis's ears echoed with the confession. Terrified. Holly was terrified. That wasn't right. She was fearless. How could something like the possibility of magical repercussions scare her? Ice began to build in Artemis's heart, pumping into his veins. If Holly was scared, he should be too. "What do you propose we do?" He asked her, voice too quiet.
"I won't—I can't risk it," Holly said, and she was fierce again. A desperate ferociousness overlaying her fear, but more like herself. Enough to relieve Artemis a little. She stormed across the room to where he stood and stared up at him, intense and determined. Whatever she was about to say, she wasn't going to back down and nothing he could say would change her mind. "We're not breaking it." That was—not what Artemis had expected to hear. Not even in his wildest dreams had he put those words in Holly's mouth.
"Our bond?" Artemis clarified, floundering because, surely, this couldn't be real.
"Our bond," Holly confirmed. "We're keeping it. We'll stay married. We'll look for a safe way out but if there isn't one—I don't care—Artemis, I won't lose you. Not any sooner than I have to. And if ripping this bond from you could hurt you—I won't do it."
"Holly," but, again, what could he say? "Are you sure?"
"Yes." Of course she was. Artemis had known even before she'd spoken that she was determined. He didn't probe further. Didn't ask her if she realized that she was signing away decades of her life to a marriage she didn't want. Didn't try to reassure her that they'd be fine if the bond were broken. Didn't try to talk her out of it. But not because he'd like nothing more than to stay married to her. No, the reason he didn't raise any objections was because to do so would have been pointless.
"I'll start preparing likely defenses for our trial."
"I'll set Foaly on it too."
One last time, Artemis had to ask. "We're winning our case?"
"We're winning our case."