Artemis woke up.

He woke up.

That was a relief. He was alive, at least. And his brain functions were all there. And—and he still loved Holly. He was, by all counts, okay. He felt no different. Tired, a little sore, but entirely like himself. Artemis dragged his eyes open, struggled to sit up. He was in that same room, back on that thinly padded table. And he wondered if it was possible that the procedure to break the bond had not yet happened. Perhaps he had only been knocked out because the good doctor had found him annoying. He almost smiled, imagining Holly's voice: it wouldn't be the first time it's happened.

"Holly!" He hadn't meant to say it aloud, so perhaps his mind was a little addled. Was she alright? Where was she now? Was their bond really…gone?

The door opened again, and there was Doctor Delauc. She smiled tolerantly at him and nodded to a sprite hanging back in the doorway that Artemis could only assume was an assistant. He shuffled in nervously, placed Artemis's suit—cleaned and ironed, he was sure; it was common protocol—on the foot of his table, then scurried away. As if he thought Artemis would pull out a death ray and shoot him.

"You may get dressed," the doctor told him.

"It's done, then?" He asked.

"Yes. Your marriage and your bond with Holly Short have both been terminated."

"I want to see her."

"Get dressed, please. We will debrief you and Ms. Short in a moment."

"Very well," Artemis said, waiting for Dr. Delauc to leave him so he could do as she asked. She took her time, and Artemis had the feeling that she was doing it purposefully and specifically just to unnerve him. He changed into his suit as quickly as he could, and the now intimately familiar softness and fresh scent of fairy cleansing proved that he'd been right about the laundering.

Delauc appeared in the doorway as soon as he'd finished, and Artemis decided not to think on the implications of that too much. She led him through hallways and he followed silently, knowing that bombarding her with questions just yet would be pointless. He was let into a chamber and was immediately tackled by a small red-haired elf. Not caring that they were being watched by Delauc and now the head of the Haven council, Artemis scooped Holly up in his arms and held her to him tight. Nothing right now mattered beyond this: they were both safe and they were together.

"Is it gone?" Artemis asked her, and he could feel her grip tightening around him.

"I don't know—I think it might be," she said. Artemis nodded. He couldn't tell. He'd thought that he'd be able to tell. He'd been sure it would feel like a gaping hole in his soul, to have Holly ripped from him. It made him doubt now that the council had succeeded in their attempt to break the bond. But Holly—surely she'd know. She was a creature of magic. She was more in tune with it than he could ever be. She must know. And she thought it was gone.

At last, he set her back down on her feet and, hands grasped together, they faced Iggy Noble, sitting smugly behind his desk.

"I'm so sorry about your marriage," he told them, voice taunting and detestable. "But since it's fallen apart, I'll have to revoke all privileges previously granted to you because of it. After this, Mr. Fowl, I doubt we'll be seeing you in Haven again, so I suggest you pack carefully tonight."

"And you're sure you've managed to break an age-old bond that not even your most powerful warlock could unravel? In a matter of hours?"

"We are," Noble showed all his teeth in a wretched smile. "But would you like to see proof?" It was clear that he wanted to show them his proof very much. Without even waiting for a reply, he waved for Delauc to come forward. She stepped neatly up to the desk and produced two small vials from her pockets, placed them carefully on the desk, and stepped away. They were identical, the bottles. Both filled with golden, spinning magic. It seemed impossible, but—

"Is that it?" Holly asked, rushing forward—dragging Artemis with her as a consequence—and then grabbed for one of the little bottles. Noble slapped her hand away and she actually growled. Noble regarded her warily and Artemis noticed that Holly and Noble each looked a little scuffed up. He smiled, despite it all, imagining the hell Holly must have raised before he'd come in.

"It's amazing, isn't it," Noble asked, taking a vial into his own hand and examining it from every angle, "that such a huge problem could be so easily extracted. And look at how small your grand love really is, in its most basic form."

"You stole it out of us?" Holly asked, aghast, her face crumpling into disgust and rage. "To force magic out of another creature is—beyond terrible. It's unspeakable." And even Artemis had to admit he felt the violation, watching Noble turn magic he'd stolen from him, or from Holly, this way and that.

"A necessity, Captain. I'm sure you understand. But you can keep the magic if you'd like. It's meaningless now." And he offered the vial out. Holly snatched it from him with more aggression than the movement should have been able to convey. She swept up its twin from the desk too and held them tight against her chest. Artemis could see now the neat initials on the stoppers. H.S. on one and A.F. on its match.

"You're despicable. This was all an underhanded, dirty trick. When it gets out—,"

"Make no mistake, it won't get out. Not as long as you want a job. Not as long as you want to be credited as a hero instead of a crackpot fool, driven mad for love of a human. It's happened before. A good elf turning rotten." The reference to Turnball Root and the threat were both clear. But Iggy Noble was a terrible fool if he thought Holly cared more about a job or a reputation than doing what was right. But even if Iggy Noble got what he deserved, he'd already gotten what he'd wanted. One way or another, Artemis and Holly's love story was at its end.

Butler was being held in a fortified holding cell by the L.E.P.. Artemis had easily been able to identify the sizable damage he'd inflicted on the city on the way there. Of course he'd have gone berserk when Artemis had not come out of the trail. Artemis just hoped he hadn't inflicted any irreversible harm. When he and Holly were let into the room Butler stooped in, the first thing he did was a body check for injuries.

"I'm fine, old friend," Artemis said tiredly. "They pulled a dirty trick on us, but I should have anticipated it. I'm fully functional, I promise." But Butler was not satisfied until he'd run through the whole procedure—which included asking Artemis a variety of personal questions to ensure he was himself, and some challenging questions to check for mental functions. Finally, when deemed suitably safe, Artemis was pulled into another hug. It could have been bone-crushing, but Butler was acutely aware of his strength and how it was being used, so the hug was gentle and careful, though tight enough to feel.

"You're never going anywhere without me again."

"You say that every time I almost die," Artemis said, patting Butler's shoulder as he was released from the hug. "And yet we never seem to be finished with this particular conversation."

"This time I mean it."

"It won't be necessary," Artemis rubbed a hand at his temple. "I won't be welcome back in Haven in the foreseeable future."

"Is that so?" Butler said, turning to Holly. She nodded, and he grabbed her into a one-armed hug. He didn't betray any more emotion than that, simply nodding and saying, "You'll be okay, the both of you."

As they drove back to the little yellow house, Artemis and Holly told Butler about the trial and the extraction. There was no better way to put it, though thinking of it in those terms was unpleasant. In fact, the entire experience had been unpleasant. Butler listened calmly, then told them about the events on his side of things. He had not, as it turned out, hurt or broken anything too horribly.

"I'll leave you here to pack, Artemis," Butler said when they reached the gate to the white picket fence.

"Please, Butler, go back to Fowl Manor. I'll be along in a couple hours. There's no reason for you to wait."

Butler gave Artemis a hard look, but nodded. "Don't get into any more trouble tonight," he said before retreating. Artemis was thankful that Butler had allowed him this, though he could see in his friend's eyes how badly he had wanted to keep Artemis in his line of sight. But Butler knew, of course, how hard this was for Artemis. And how important it was, too.

Artemis and Holly worked in silence, packing up all his things neatly into boxes. It was amazing how many of his belongings had made it down to Haven during the time of their marriage. Slowly but surely, he'd moved into this house. And now he had to move out all at once. Still, they made quick work of it together and in what seemed like no time at all, seven boxes and a duffle were stacked by the door.

It was time to go.

"Holly—," what to say? "Thank you."

"It's been," she paused, looking around the house, at the pile of boxes, at her hands. Anywhere but at Artemis. Finally, she gave an exasperated sigh and looked him full in the face. "We were alright, weren't we?" He had no idea if she was talking about how they'd been 'alright' at being married or that they were alright even with the bond broken.

"Yes," Artemis agreed. Either way, it was true. "We were."

"This is what we wanted, isn't it?" She asked, eyes slipping again to the door. "We did it. We got it all. The bond is broken and neither of us is any worse for wear." Not entirely true. Artemis was certainly worse for wear. How was he ever supposed to feel whole again, now that Holly wasn't fit into his soul? Now that he knew what it felt like to have that completeness? But he couldn't complain. Holly had gotten what she wanted, even if the means by which they'd come by it had been unpleasant. He had no right to make her question that. And he thought—perhaps naively or wishfully or stupidly—he thought that he might be able to make her question that this was what they wanted. Her eyes were big and sad and wanting of something. Almost…almost it felt like there could be more to them than what there'd always been. But he couldn't make it messy. Couldn't do that to her.

"We did it," he said, urging a smile onto his face. "Just as we always do." Even if he'd said something different, and even if Holly wanted him to have said something different—a big if—it wouldn't have mattered. Their bond was broken. Their marriage deemed illegal. There was no future in a love between them. And Holly deserved a love with a future.

Holly nodded and her face was unreadable. Artemis knew this was where they were meant to say goodbye. But neither of them said a thing. Then, slowly, Holly reached into her pocket and pulled out two little bottles of writhing magic. They clinked as they rolled in her palm, held out to Artemis.

"Do you want yours?" She asked with a laugh that didn't sound quite right. "For old time's sake?"

"No," he said and something shifted in her eyes and she started to draw back her hand. "But I'd like yours if you don't mind?"

Holly's hand stuttered in its retreat, then she maneuvered one of the bottles to her fingers and closed the other in her palm. Artemis took it and noticed with relief that Holly seemed pleased. "Take good care of it, will you?"

"I'm offended you even have to ask."

"It'll be strange, not having you around," Holly said, finally voicing what they'd both been thinking.

"It will be awful, not having you visit so often."

"This is goodbye, then?"

"No," Artemis said, stern and sure. "Goodbyes aren't for us. I'll miss you Holly, but we'll still be—as we always were. It will be harder, but it isn't goodbye."

"You're right," she smiled. "You damn clever mudboy, who ever gave you permission to get good at emotions too? It's unfair."

"Life isn't fair," he told her, then pulled her close and hugged her again. It wasn't goodbye. Not really. But it felt like it.

In another couple of minutes that seemed completely insufficient time, Artemis left the house with his last box in his arms. And it occurred to him as the gate closed shut behind him that it wasn't his house anymore. Not his and Holly's. Just Holly's. And, presumably, eventually, Holly's to share with someone else.

Artemis left his boxes in the car. He and Butler could come retrieve them later. But he wasn't in the mood to haul them all up to his room and unpack them right now. All he brought in with him was the magic stolen out of Holly, carefully tucked away in his pocket. Artemis wasn't sure what to expect when he went inside and he paused at the door, steeling himself. He wasn't sure what Butler had told his family of the events of the trial or of the following excitement. He dreaded the pitying looks or ceaseless questions that would soon befall him. But there was no point in putting it off.

Artemis walked in to find his entire family gathered in the sitting room just off the entrance hall, and he was struck then by his uncanny luck. He was alive and well, despite it all. He felt stupid—a rare feeling indeed—to have dreaded this. Here were his parents and brothers, all waiting so that they might be here for him when he came home. And he had. He'd come home to his family tonight, which had, hours before, seemed unlikely.

His mother looked up from her reading and smiled.

"Alright, Arty?" She asked. He nodded, but her smile fell away so he must not have been convincing. She was starting to stand, no doubt to come interrogate him, but just then Beckett's curly head popped up from behind the couch to grin toothily at him and the reality of his luck truly sunk in. The reality of what could have been instead. "You're shaking," Angeline said, alarmed.

"Strange," Artemis said, because it was. He wasn't prone to such obvious signs of distress, but he noted, as his mother had, how his hand shook as it reached out to tousle Beckett's hair. "But you needn't worry, Mother," he told her, and he meant it. Mostly. Then he reached over the couch to heft Beckett up and over it, crushing him into a hug. "I'm home." And that in itself was a miracle. Had been a miracle for fourteen months already.

Beckett, perceptive as he was, wrapped his little arms around Artemis and nestled in close, knowing that his big brother needed a hug. And then Angeline swept across the room, gathering Myles up on the way, to offer her comfort too, followed shortly by Artemis Senior.

Artemis would tell them of his day, but later. For now, he let himself be glad for what he had and tried to let it overshadow what he'd lost.