Disclaimer: Any characters/situations recognisable from the Artemis Fowl books belong to Eoin Colfer and his publishers. Not me.
Warning: Julius/Briar ... non-slash. They don't actually do anything, rather decisions against doing anything is made.

3. Orange (605)
Briar feels the weight of the Book in his pocket - so small, yet so oppressive, so painful; it's heavy enough to bring him down to his knees, crying. He runs a bit further, promising himself that he'll stop sometime soon.

He doesn't. He can't. Because then Julius might catch up to him. And Julius terrifies him. He can't understand how someone can be so carefree, so impulsive, have such a disregard for rules and society. He's scared of what Julius could do, what Julius could make him do, what Julius would do to him, what Briar wants with all his soul to do to – with - Julius, without prompting, coercion.

The Book. It all comes back to the Book. They live for the Book. They live by the Book. And they hate it, yet there is no other possible way to live. You can't rebel against that which you are, and so the fey are submissive, dismissive. Briar hates it. But Julius hates it enough to do something.

Briar holds the magic too dear to do anything. He can't rebel, because although he doesn't like the Book, doesn't like the Council, or the rules, or not being able to hold his best friend in the way that he wants to, although… he still wants his magic, even though it is that society, is those rules, that Book, that gives him his magic in the first. He couldn't stand losing his magic. His magic is what he measures himself by, and he can't understand how he'd live without it.

He stops, halfway across a bridge over a ravine. He pulls the Book from his pocket, having vague thoughts about throwing it over the edge, as far and fast and hard as he can. The Book shouldn't be able to stop him from doing that. But it still can. It's warm, hard, the golden leather cover burning orange in the light. He holds it over the edge, fist clenched, faced upwards. He releases his grip, but still it rests upon his palm. There's nothing that will make him upturn that hand, however much he wants to. Not even the memories of Julius in front of him, daring him to give up his magic in favour of the unknown entity called 'us'.

Briar pulls the Book back from the edge, letting it flip open. It flips to the page, something which incriminates him as much as any actions or telepath would.

"And any who lies with a person of the same gender, or with an animal or non-Person, shall be banished from Our People. They are mutants who cannot live among us, as their ways are not our ways, only the ways of evil. To ensure that they can't hide their sin they will be stripped of magic at the moment of sin. They shall live, if only for others to know of their sin and change their own ways."

Briar feels as though he might retch over the edge after reading the life-rules once more, even though they are memorised and vibrating through his mind continuously. Like Julius is.

--Hands upon his back, sweeping over his shoulders, lightly brushing his cheek. And he wants it, so much… And an almost kiss, lips hovering over his own. And it would be so easy to lean in, touch them. But then he'd lose...—

The magic was too important. Briar can live without Julius, but he can't live without his magic, his power.

He loves Julius, but he loves his magic more.

And has already made his choice.