Hello!
You don't know me; heck even if you have read Zelda fiction you probably didn't read my story. Well its Sorrow of Unspoken Secrets. Love angst and Zelda? If you do it would make me happy if you simply skipped over there and checked it out.
Of course I didn't post this just to tell you that. Oh no. Hence the title this is 'A Christmas Carol' with Artemis Fowl characters. I'm sure you have read, heard, or seen many different versions of this, as far as I'm concerned this is the only AF version.
I hope to get the last chapter up by December 24. Of course I will need your help with that by sending me reviews. If you must flame me, make it constructive. The single most thing I hate is how people flame and the only thing they say is "THIS IS CRAP" or "YOU SUCK" and then they don't even put their real names, bloody cowards they are. That's not what this web-site is for, its to help people with their writing and post stories that they want others to see.
Sorry if it seems like I'm one of those people who rant or criticize everything, because really I'm not.
Disclaimer: I don't own really much of anything. Well I own the concept and that's about it. Characters and plot belong to Eoin Colfer and Charles Dickens. God Bless their souls!
Now without further adieu, I bring you 'A AF Christmas Carol'. Please hold all questions and chastise till the end of the chapter.
Chapter 1: Julius (Scrooge) Root
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An angry and an extremely temperamental commander towed his way through the doors of a LEP station. Which isn't really out of the ordinary since he regularly looks like this. But considering how long until a certain day was here, you have to feel sorry for any unlucky souls who even so much as mention it.
"Merry almost Christmas commander!" Declared a recently promoted Corporal a bit too cheerfully.
None other then Commander Julius Root let out a rather loud growl that sent the young elf scurrying halfway down the hallway, only to run directly into a wall.
Root just continued to drag to his office where he ever so graciously slammed the door shut.
"Merry Christmas, D'Arvit." Mocked the commander as he slumped in his swivel chair. "Christmas is a mudman holiday, at this rate we'll all start growing tall and lose our magic!"
He hated Christmas, just as much as he hated Valentines Day. Nothing good came out of either of the holidays. In his mind it was just Greeting Card Company Day. This was one sucker that those brainwashing cards won't entice if he had a say in it.
True Christmas was a mudman name for the holiday, but it was also the same day that the third king of the Frond dynasty, San D'Klass, was born. It was also the same day he choose to lavish the mudmen with gifts, giving him the name 'San the deluded' from his oh so loyal subjects. In little fairy stories, the ghost of San D'Klass would sneak into your house and leave gifts if you were good, and leave you mud if your were bad.
Of course the mudmen copied Valentines Day. It wasn't descended from St. Valentine but Cupid Valentine, the famous matchmaker fairy. He didn't have the bow and arrows of love like the mudmen stereotypes, but he was very convincing with his TV ads so he never needed them. On the anniversary of his death, Valentines Day, people give cards to one another to keep his spirit of love living on.
Root lit one of his trademark fungus cigars as he pretended to be interested in some paperwork on his desk. He has always been far more into his work than necessary, but right around this time there seemed nothing else he really cared about. Along with his nickname Beetroot he has also successfully earned another nickname.
"Merry Christmas ol' Ebenezer Scrooge!" Came an all too well known voice from the doorway.
Root cringed; he didn't have time for Foaly today. He didn't have time for anything today. "D'Arvit Foaly, don't you have someone else to bother?"
"Oh yes actually I do," he said as he pulled out a piece of paper from his lap coat pocket. "Holly Short, Trouble Kelp, Grub Kelp, Councilwomen Vinyáya…" he trailed off. "But I simply come to wish good tidings,"
"Go away"
"Joyous life,"
"Did you hear me? I said Leave!"
"Happy blessings,"
"Get out of here!"
"And peace on earth!"
"D'Arvit Foaly! Get the hell out of my office!" roared Root as he rose exceedingly from his chair. Complexion as deep of purple as ever.
"No need to raise your voice Julius."
"FOALY!" Roots forehead was now throbbing with a severe headache, he was really not in the mood for this. Foaly could literally see the commander's veins popping out of his head.
A beeping sound interrupted the conversation as Foaly took out a pager like object from his pocket. The model was not too different from the mudman standard of a pager, but you could not only receive phone numbers but also voice and text messages, even diminutive pictures, kind of like a mini cell phone. It was of course Foaly's model.
"Sorry commander, duty calls." he said as he pocketed the pager and made a start for the door, "See you later ol' Ebenezer."
Foaly immediately left the office only to be followed by the lovely parting noise of the commanders ashtray colliding with door.
"One down, 5 to go." Foaly chuckled as he headed towards his next victim, careful to keep on schedule.
Root sat down in his swivel chair and began to write a note to himself, of course it was no easy task as his blood pressure increased by the second.
'Note to shelf: rock foalies day. NO! Grr… scribble that out. Goat to self. AH! Note! Note to self: DOCK Foaly's hay. PAY! PAY! GOCK FOALYS GAY! GAHHH!'
The commander crumbled the note with frustration. To many words and mistakes to be even slightly legible. He decided to make a mental note, he figured it would give him less stress.
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Trouble Kelp stood up straight and brushed out all the wrinkles in his outfit. He had one chance at asking for the next couple of days off. One flaw, just one, and he was sure to not only be denied of his holiday, but also get demoted to the best job of all. Traffic duty.
He knocked imposingly but lightly on the door trying to hide his slight nervous unease. He wasn't going to let Root get to him. He needed this break more than anyone did. Well, Foaly needed a vacation; he practically lives in his office. As so did Captain Short, of course asking her to take a furlough was like asking a troll would it like some salad with its meat; it just won't take it.
"Come in."
'Here's my shot,' thought Trouble. 'Okay, here I go.' He opened the door and stepped into the office.
"Yes captain?"
"Sir, you know how that Christmas is almost here,"
Roots complexion began turn red. He knew exactly what Trouble came to ask him.
"I was just wondering…hoping…that I could possibly have Christmas day off. It's just that, I don't spend enough time with Grub, or my mother for that matter. And I want to make it up to them."
"In that case, of course you can have Christmas off."
Trouble would have smiled; in fact if you paid enough attention to his facial expressions you could see that he did, but only for a spilt second. It seemed all too easy. Root hated Christmas, he would be damned before he actually gave someone leave for the holidays.
"And then I'll just give everyone else off too. We can throw a party, with lots of confetti, and lights, oh and don't forget lots and lots music! Oh, then I will just release the prisoners from their cells while I'm at it. They deserve to take Christmas off to, go see their families, eat lots of good food, and steal some gifts for the kids… Christmas is a day that everyone should get off. You know what? I think I will take it off too!"
Trouble paled, this wasn't going to end well.
"But do you know why I don't take Christmas off?"
Trouble risked a shake of his head.
"Well let me tell you then…"
Root narrowed his eyes into slits, voice becoming low and commanding. Time to do what he did best.
"You of all people should know better then to come in here and ask for leave! I should have your strips for so much as thinking about coming in here! I DON'T JUST HAND OUT VACATIONS ON A SILVER PLATTER TO ANYONE I PLEASE, WHAT DO YOU THINK THIS IS A CHARITY?"
Everyone knows commanders can smell fear a mile away. Or so they say. Right now that's the last thing Trouble wanted. Of course it was perfectly noticeable that he was quite immobilized in his position. Face white and quite blank.
"I don't take leave because I know that everything happens when an officer least expects it! The last thing this city needs is for there to be a mudman or troll crisis and all of our bloody officers are out taking vacations!"
"But Sir-"
"Don't 'but sir' me captain!"
"Commander, everyone not on your shift takes Christmas off, even if it's only for 8 hours. Heck, even the councilmen take it off. I just don't see what the big deal is."
"NO captain! You WOULDN'T see what the big deal is! I'm NOT giving anyone leave and that's final!"
Root began to read a file put on his desk, signaling the end of their discussion. Trouble wouldn't have any of it.
"Sir please have some dignity. Most of us have families to take care of, this is the one time of the year we can get together and be happy for a change. Sir, I'm not sure about you but my family means more to me than anything."
"Captain you are cutting it really close…"
"Commander, please be reasonable."
"If I give you a break, everyone else will want one."
"Then give it to them."
"WHAT!?"
"Please sir."
"The answer is no and that's final! Now get out of my office or I'll have you'll be put on traffic duty for the next millenium!"
Trouble left quickly, taking head to slam the door shut on his way out, knocking down one of Roots picture frames hanging on the wall inside.
Trying to vent his anger out on something he quickly decided the wall was perfectly suitable and began pounding it with his enraged fists.
"Captain?"
Trouble looked to see that Holly was next to him.
"Is something wrong?"
He closed his eyes solemnly. "Sometimes I feel…no I don't feel, I know…the commanders heart is as cold as ice itself."
Holly sighed. Understanding what had happened. "It's okay, I tried asking for leave just the other day. Of course by the sound of it you got the worse half of the yelling."
Trouble remained silent.
"Don't worry about what Scrooge says. Come on, let's get some coffee before our break is over."
Oblivious to Holly's rare kinder side, Trouble agreed and followed her to the officer's lounge.
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Root put the papers on his desk in an orderly fashion, it was most uncommon of him to do so, but with his recent argument with one of his most prized officers he needed something to distract him from the matter at hand.
A loud banging on the hallway wall immediately interrupted him. It was no doubt Captain Kelp, since most of the officers in the station were far wiser than to bang on the wall right outside his office door.
He was about to go out there and order him to shut up until he heard another sound.
"Captain?"
Short was out there talking to him. He didn't know why but something stopped him from barging out the door. It could have been his conscience, or it was the fact they were talking about him.
"Sometimes I feel…no I don't feel, I know…the commanders heart is as cold as ice itself." His Captain Kelp's voice, flowing into the room as he quietly opened the door, just wide enough to get better reception.
"It's okay, I tried asking for leave just the other day. Of course by the sound of it you got the worse half of the yelling." Root just then remembered that Holly did surprisingly ask for leave. He guessed that even Short had family to spend time with.
"Don't worry about what Scrooge says. Come on, let's get some coffee before our break is over."
Commander closed the door to their fading footsteps. He picked up the picture frame that fell to the floor when Trouble knocked it off the wall. It was of him and his old friend Briar Cudgeon. That is, before he got killed.
Is this what he had become since then? A demeaning, self-centered, boss who cared nothing of their well being and only cared for his work?
Root shrugged. He seemed to fit that description, and he was okay with that. He didn't need his officers to think highly of him. If they planned to do something he could just have them fired.
He sat down on his swivel chair, he put the frame on his desk then returned to his paperwork.
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