Artemis waited under a grand oak tree, the moon full and bright in the sky. The best way, as always, to earn a trip to the surface was through The Ritual. Holly's magic wasn't technically in need of a refill, but there was no way to prove it and so she'd easily acquired permission to go topside. It was lucky the full moon had been so close when Artemis had made the call but, even so, the three-day wait had been excruciating.

"Impatient to see me, mudboy?" Holly asked, touching down just next to Artemis. He smiled down at her.

"You know me, I don't like to wait."

"How'd you know I wouldn't go straight to Fowl Manor?"

"I know you. You're adequately convinced that I'm in no immediate danger and therefore no undue rush was needed to visit. But when summoned by a Fowl, it's always behooved you in the past to be running hot. I knew you'd want to perform The Ritual while you were here and it made more sense to do it before our meeting. But I didn't want to wait any longer than necessary." Artemis took a step back, gestured to the rich earth under their tree. "By all means, Captain, perform your ritual."

"This all feels very familiar," Holly said, a smile on her lips as she scanned the ground for a seed.

"I'll admit I thought the same thing, waiting for you. Here," Artemis said, pressing something into her palm. "I was feeling sentimental," he told her when she opened her hand.

"An acorn." Holly tossed it in the air, caught it again. "It's perfect, thanks Arty."

Artemis watched as she knelt and buried the acorn. He always liked watching The Ritual. The magic in the air was so saturated he could sense it and he liked the way it wrapped around Holly, becoming a part of her. It was finished within breaths and Holly was standing again, brushing the dirt carelessly from her knees.

"Did you know that it's considered a great intimacy to watch another fairy while they complete The Ritual?" She asked, a lilt to her voice.

"Is it?"

"Yes. Was that not mentioned in any of the research you did on our culture?"

"I don't believe it was. There's actually not a guide to the intricacies of romance and intimacy in fairy culture."

"Did you look?"

"Yes," Artemis said but he didn't think Holly believed him. "Although some things were obvious even to me."

"The kiss," she said, leaning back against the trunk of the tree and peering up at him curiously. She was the one that had opened the way for this line of conversation, but she was clearly surprised that Artemis was engaging in her carefully casual exploration of it.

"Indeed."

"You…remember it?" Obviously, he remembered it, but remember wasn't the right word for what Holly was asking. There simply wasn't a word to sufficiently capture that question. But Artemis understood the gist of it. You think about it? Still? It means something to you? You didn't throw out the memory as unimportant?

"I'm loathe to admit my youth, but it was my first kiss. My only kiss. And it was, in a word, magical."

"You never mentioned it again," Holly said, slow and hesitant. She couldn't figure out where this was going, or else she couldn't believe where this was going. Artemis offered her a tiny shrug.

"My elf-kissing days were over. Over is over; not a challenge." It wasn't a confession. Not a proper one. But already Artemis could feel his heart beating as fast as it ever had. He'd drafted dozens of confessions over the past three days. He'd perfected a good number of them too, but they were all so obviously rehearsed, so clearly constructed that he'd discarded each one. He wanted to offer Holly something organic, something that was so obviously from him that there'd be no question over it being an act. But now that he was here, in the moment, he was drawing a blank. It seemed uncouth to blurt out I love you, but it seemed equally odd to start waxing poetic about her and about their relationship. Holly seemed to recognize his discomfort and it was unclear whether she was taking pity on him or feeding off of it when she spoke.

"And if I reinstated your elf-kissing privileges?" She asked, a smirk on her lips and a spark in her eyes. She was so herself, it was a relief.

"I suppose," Artemis said, taking a slow step nearer the trunk of the tree. To Holly. She watched him approach and did nothing to stop him. So he took another. And another. And when they stood toe-to-toe, he took a steady breath. "I suppose, I'd try kissing you again."

"Only try?" Holly asked, voice whisper soft and eyes bright. Bright with the same hope Artemis had kept tucked away in his chest for months.

He wasn't good with these sorts of things, but Holly knew. Of course she knew. She knew him better than anyone. So it was only with slight self-consciousness that Artemis reached for Holly's face and fit his palm against her cheek. She brought her own hand up to hold to his wrist lightly, a smile gathering in the corners of her lips. He'd like to see that smile but it was slow-growing and his momentum was already pushing him forward. He was already tilting her head up gently and leaning down carefully. He never got to see that particular smile; he'd make up for it. He'd be sure to see thousands of smiles from her in the future. But not this one. This smile, he felt against his own lips instead of seeing with his eyes.

It was the briefest of touches but it was accepted. Holly didn't push him off and, when their lips parted, her grip around his wrist tightened, an obvious request that he not step away. He didn't. Looking down at her, he saw that she was already smiling again. Perhaps she'd never stopped.

"Your only kiss? Really?" She asked. It would have come off far more brazen if not for the flush across her cheeks and smile that was too soft to be teasing.

"Yes, really," Artemis said with as much exasperation as amusement. "When else did I have time and opportunity to kiss someone? Who else would I kiss? Why would I kiss anyone besides you?"

"Why would you kiss me?" She challenged. But it was an easy question. And Artemis was finally willing to give her the answer.

"The same reason I'd never date anyone else. The same reason I'd never marry anyone else. The same reason I can never stop thinking about you. Holly, I've loved you since long before any of this marriage business came to light. I've loved you for longer than we've actually—had actually been married. I love you. And if I'm not with you, I don't want to be with anyone."

"Then be with me," Holly said. Artemis was nothing short of astounded at her surety and the confidence with which she spoke. "And this time, stay with me."

"Why Holly, are you proposing to me?"

"Moving too fast for you?"

"You flyboys are notoriously fast but since we've already been married once before, I'm wondering if perhaps we moved entirely too slow."

"You should have said earlier," Holly told him.

"I was afraid you'd react poorly." He didn't mention any of the other doubts and worries that'd kept him from telling her. She'd call him stupid, as well she should. But there'd be time for that later. Right now, all he wanted was this.

"You worry too much," Holly said, free hand sliding up his arm and drawing him slightly closer to her. Then she laughed. "Alright, it was probably wise of you to wait a bit after the paradox. But a couple months would have been fine, Arty. I didn't need years."

"My mistake," Artemis smiled down on her, a part of him still unable to believe this was real.

"So what do you say, Artemis?"

"About marrying you?"

"Yes."

"Yes."

Holly laughed in delight, pushing herself away from the tree and unfurling her dragonfly wings. Artemis felt the slight misplacement of air twist around them as she rose up to meet him fully. She slipped her arms around his neck and he found one of his hands holding her waist, the other still against her cheek, now brushing back into her short hair and against one of her pointed ears.

"Artemis?" She asked, only inches away from him. Too close to be anything but completely distracting.

"Hm?" He couldn't even offer her a real word, so transfixed was he by her Cupid's bow lips.

"I love you."

"Oh," he said. "Good." And he kissed her.