The chapter title is in reference to Peter Rothfuss' first Kingkiller Chronicle book: The Name Of The Wind
Extract from chapter 43
There are three things all wise men fear:
the sea in a storm,
a night with no moon
and the anger of a gentle man.
If you haven't read the books I seriously recommend them.
Also, sorry this chapter is so short. I know they're usually double the length but I haven't updated in a while and I wanted you all to have something to read.
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Artemis didn't speak on the way back to London, couldn't have even if she'd wanted to since they'd sedated her simply to keep her from moving. Mycroft knew she'd be displeased when she woke up but he didn't care as he sat there by her side reading the files they'd found, Artemis needed the sleep. The flight back home seemed to take twice as long as the one out to Lesotho and though they brought back so many of their dead he knew had the little assassin not been with them there would have been far more casualties.
He kept quiet during the flight, no one tried to talk to him and he made no attempt to speak with them. No doubt Henley would be sat in a corner grumbling and licking his wounds but that was something else Mycroft didn't care about.
The British Government's blue eyes hurt but he pushed on, continued to read through mass of documents Artemis had lead them to and nearly died to get. He'd gone through what he could on the plane but had still ended up sat in his office almost a week later still reading them. Hades kept wonderful records when they were inclined to do so.
Anyone else would have been in the hospital for ages but Artemis wasn't anyone else, she had no time for doctors fussing over her, not when there was work to be done. The ginger had only managed to convince her to stay in bed for all of two days before she'd gone straight back to work; she had almost been as stubborn as Sherlock.
His flashed a look up at her from his desk and sure enough there she was over at his coffee table working on decoding some of the files they'd taken from the Hades base. Dressed in her grey shirt, black waistcoat and matching pants with her raven hair hung down around her face no one would have suspected she'd been stabbed so brutally. Artemis hadn't ever shown even the slightest hint of pain and Myc didn't know if that was something to be commended or pitied. Still, he was just impressed he'd managed to get her to rest for forty-eight hours.
"Sir?"
His head snapped up then to see Anthea stood in the doorway to his office, her attention more on her phone than her employer as always. Slowly Artemis had gotten used to the way Anthea just showed up quietly and no longer looked ready to murder her when she appeared.
"Yes, Anthea?" Shame about all these secrets flying about Anthea's real name was so much prettier. "What is it?"
"Sir Edwin and Lady Smallwood are requesting you again in conference room four. I can always tell them no, if you want."
Mycroft sighed. Both Edwin and Elizabeth had tried to tear him a new one for how many men they'd lost in Lesotho but their anger had rolled off him like water off a duck's back. It would take more than some grumbling to get to a man like Mycroft Holmes. The attack had been justified and all those men knew the risks when they enlisted.
"No, it's alright. Tell them I'm on my way. Might as well pretend to care."
Anthea nodded. "Very good, Sir."
Then she was gone, the sound of the door closing behind her the only indication that she'd ever been there to begin with.
He left his head fall back so he could stare at the dark ceiling for a short time. He'd been horrified by how many files they'd discovered. Each one of those files was a child who'd been either stolen or sold. Each one a life that had been taken and destroyed. Each one the start of an innocent forced into a world of horror until they wither went numb to it or died. Frankly Mycroft wasn't sure if death or the numbing was kinder.
Finding these children and returning as many of them as possible to their families wasn't his only mission though. Blue eyes once more flashed to Artemis who hadn't moved from her spot. His other mission was to find out which of these tortured kids was her, that was why he'd raked through them so desperately. He picked up a few of the elder files, he'd managed to narrow down where her real name would appear based off how only he thought she was but after than it was just a waiting game. Was she Lily-Marie Osborne from Kent? Evangeline Boucheron, kidnapped and sold to Hades in France? Linnea Nilsson? Her own family had sold Linnea to Hades in Sweden though Myc didn't have the first idea why. All of these little girls had suffered until Hades had turned them into blank slates better than the Hitler Youth had.
With another deep sigh he got up from his desk and crossed the room to Artemis who glanced up at the elder man.
"You should probably stay here, Artemis." He told her as a hand absent-mindedly raked through her long raven locks. "Lady Smallwood really doesn't like you."
"I don't care." She stated plainly.
"I know, but best not kick the hive as it were. No harm shall befall me on my way to the conformance rooms."
She set her pen down and stood; Holmes the elder's hand fell from her hair.
"That sort of thinking is usually how people get murdered."
Mycroft was forced to concede, she did have a point and Artemis didn't take 'no' for an answer very well. That was how he ended up with Artemis at his side as they passed down the maze of halls. Still he wondered who she really was, did her parents still live and if so could she be part of a family again? Did she have siblings just as he did? Artemis had been deprived of so much her her life that Mycroft felt the urge to give as much of it back as he could; she deserved to know what her name was at the very least.
When he got to conference room four Artemis remained outside the glass room looking like the perfect protector she was. The British Government still found himself amazed at how much power lay inside her small frame. His eyes only left her when Elizabeth growled at him.
"... Mycroft. You can't keep throwing our people at an unworthy cause."
He raised an eyebrow. "'Unworthy'? Really? Do you know how many files we now possess which Hades never intended for anyone to find. Ever wondered what happened to Ben Needham and Madeleine McCann? I have their names in the documents we brought back." Edwin's and Lady Smallwood's faces softened. "So are you honestly going to tell me it wasn't worth it?" Mycroft peered over at Artemis' back through the glass doors. "You're scared of Artemis, that is obvious-"
"We are not scared of her." Edwin tried to insist but Myc knew the truth.
"Yes you are and don't interrupt me." He told the other man sternly. If they wanted to fling shit Mycroft could do just the same. "You're scared of her. You know she could kill you with nothing more than your own cufflink, that there would be nothing you could do about it and that Artemis wouldn't loose a single minute of sleep. There is just one problem. Artemis isn't evil and she is loyal to me. The other Reapers? Well their names are somewhere in those files and they went through the exact same torture until they were just as emotionally dead as she is." The ginger pointed over at Artemis. "The only differences are that they didn't meet me, they didn't get a name or to see the world any other way than how Hades told them to see it. Those Reapers aren't evil, none of them are evil." He paused for dramatic effect much as Sherlock often did. "But they aren't loyal to me. They are loyal to Hades. So when you go home tonight and tuck yourself up all nice and warm in bed don't fear Artemis coming for you in the darkness, fear the other uncountable number of children Hades stole, because they're adults now and they will kill you. They take lives, yes, but you need to remember their lives were taken first. If we keep doing this, keep pushing, taking Hades' hideouts, then you won't have to fear every floorboard squeak in your home at two in the morning. If we can stop Hades taking any more children we cut off their supply of new soldiers and maybe, just maybe, those kids will not grow up with men twice their age terrified of them."
Mycroft stood up calmly then and straightened his waistcoat before he did up the button of his perfectly tailored suit jacket. Neither Edwin nor Elizabeth spoke, just stared up at Mister Holmes like teenagers put in their place by a teacher.
"Now, if you'll excuse me I have work to do. Good day."
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I'm assuming everyone knows the case of Madeleine McCann but for those who don't know of Ben Needham, he was a 21 month old boy from Britain who disappeared from his grandparents' home on the island of Kos, Greece, and was never seen again. Many police searches were conducted but they never found anything. It is believed that a man named Konstantinos Barkas may have accidentally killed Ben with a digger while doing some excavating work after her wandered off from his grandparents' back yard. It's alleged that Barkas told a friend that he accidentally killed Ben, panicked and buried his body in building rubble; when the area was searched a toy truck that belonged to Ben was found. However, this is all speculation since Barkas died in 2015 without the police ever being able to question him.