A/N: Happy New Year, everyone! Review responses sent out as usual.
Also thanks to: J. Dawnwolf, Longsworder, frenchpiment, The Flying Moose, AnnieThePipster, Chibi Binasu-chan, I Am The Krow, septempopuli, ebtwisty9, Fleury, SPG, Lii, LOkid, Queen Dragon, The OddBird, refloc, Epsilon2Delta, Anonymous (it's really easy to make an email addy at hotmail or yahoo, you know…), an-angel-in-hell, Unrealistic, WiseAbsol, Soccer101
Two more build-up chapters, and things will start to get really interesting, I promise. Until then, bear with me, please.
Chapter 11
Children Will Be Children
A meadow near Attila's camp, 14th April, 453 A.D.
"No, no, you've got to hold it like this, not like that," a Hun boy of the name Irnik told Patrick, showing him the right way of holding and bending a bow. "There, now you're doing it right. Now, choose your target – say, that tree-trunk over there – and shoot."
Patrick did as told and shot the arrow. It missed the tree-trunk, but barely.
"Hey, not bad for a first shot," Irnik said, grinning at the 'British' boy. "Did you see that, Aladár? He did really well, don't you think?"
"First: it's Prince Aladár, second: it could've been better," the addressed boy replied with a bored expression.
"'Course, Prince Aladár." Irnik rolled his eyes. Aladár either did not notice it or completely ignored it, but Patrick could barely hide his amusement. He had met this boy three days prior, and was now surprised to see that if he wanted, he could get along with children of his age.
Back in Haven he had thought it impossible as everyone there thought he was a freak, but here no one knew him, no one thought he was different from them in any respect (save his nationality), and they willingly accepted him. Irnik had two brothers who had showed Patrick around in the nearby forest; and a sister, whom Patrick had only seen once, but in whose presence he had felt all fluttery for some reason. Fortunately Irnik's sister wasn't around now to see his first shot miss its target – the boy thought he would have wanted to disappear from the face of earth if she had seen it.
"So, Prince Aladár, are you excited about your father's upcoming wedding?" Irnik asked, watching as Attila's younger son bent his bow, clearly determined to show that snot-nosed Brit how a real Hun shot an arrow.
Aladár lowered his bow and glanced at the other boys. "Are you stupid, or just pretending to be?"
"Huh?" Irnik blinked.
Aladár heaved a sigh with an 'I'm surrounded by idiots' stare. "How am I supposed to be excited about it? My father's marrying a girl barely older than myself, and if that girl gives him heirs, then they too will be competition for the throne!"
"Ooooh… you know, that's really noble of you," Patrick said.
"What?" Aladár looked confused.
"That you worry so much about Csaba's succession."
"Me?" The prince furrowed his brow. He couldn't decide if the 'Brit' was mocking him or really meant it.
"Well, you just said so: you didn't want any more brothers, because then they would be a threat to Csaba getting the throne. Or... did I misunderstand it?" Young Short smiled innocently at the prince.
Aladár pressed his lips so tightly together that they formed a single line, but nodded. "Of course that's what I meant. Csaba's the rightful heir to Father's throne. Any brats that this Mikolt might give birth to, could possibly want to fight him for the throne."
"And you'd never do that," replied Patrick, but his statement sounded rather like a question.
"Of course not!" Aladár snapped. "Honestly, if you're being so stupid and childish, I don't know why I'm wasting my time with you lot!"
With that he threw the bow he was still holding, turned on his heels and marched away.
"I'm heart-broken…" Irnik grinned. "You too?"
"Of course," Patrick sighed theatrically. "How am I supposed to learn how to shoot now if He-Who-Can-Shoot-Best left us?"
"I'd rather call him He-Who-Has-A-Little-Problem-With-His-Mind," Irnik replied, and the two boys burst out laughing.
o o o O O O o o o
A few dozen feet away, two figures sat under a beech tree.
"He likes it here," Fiona spoke up, her eyes fixed on the boys. "I mean, your brother. He's not as pale anymore as he was when you arrived here. And he smiles much more."
"Yes, he's healed." Artemis nodded. He had been watching the boys on the meadow for at least an hour and couldn't help noticing how much this little journey to the past had changed his son. They had only spent four days in the Huns' camp, but it had been enough for Patrick to turn from a level-headed, stoic, precocious boy into what he was supposed to be: a carefree teenager enjoying life. His behaviour resembled Holly's more and more by every passing minute. Of course, once in a while he still acted aloof and spoke in a cynical way – his Fowl self hadn't completely disappeared and Artemis doubted it ever would – but his Short self seemed to be winning over.
This was no longer the computer-maniac boy whom Artemis had first spotted on a recording in Holly's portable, powder-box-look-a-like holoprojector. That boy had been a hundred percent like him: cold, self-important and moody. This one playing on the meadow was full of life and enthusiasm… he was everything Artemis was not.
Artemis wondered if he too would have changed as a child, had he had a chance to spend time away from home among a few decent and intelligent people of his age. The boys at St. Bartleby's didn't count, they were anything but decent and anything but intelligent. Well, probably even if he had met young people worthy of his attention, he would probably have ignored them, not even giving himself a chance to get to know their good qualities.
But Patrick was different, obviously. Under all the layers of coldness and aloofness, the boy was as warm-hearted as Holly, and now, for the first time, Artemis saw it. He saw his real son. His son, who now picked up a sword and began fencing with a Hun boy. Their laughter reached over to where he and Fiona were sitting, and Artemis suddenly felt something compress his gullet. Was it envy? Envy that his son gave himself a chance to be a child while he had never dared try it himself?
Never dared… Those were two words that made his heart clench even more. Because those words were true to the last letter. He had been afraid to act like a child. With his immense intellect, he had feared he'd become a laughing stock if he didn't act like an adult. Who had heard of childish genii, after all?
He had wasted his childhood. And now it seemed that he had wasted it for nothing. He had lost his genius – the genius for which he had decided to forfeit his youth. He had wasted it in the belief that genii must be lonely and cold; and now that he was no longer a genius, he felt something like an empty space in his heart: the space where all the wonderful childhood memories should have been stored. There were none. Instead of birthday-parties with twenty kids all singing 'Happy birthday, dear Arty', there were images of Butler buying him a new laptop or installing a new cctv system as a present. Instead of bathing in a lake and tossing a beach ball at his father, there were images of himself plotting how to get enough money to save said father from the Russian mafia. Instead of having his mother read out Snow White before he fell asleep, there were only images of himself reading War and Peace until he got bored of it enough to fall asleep. As a child, he had never learned how to swim, had never ridden a bicycle, and had never travelled anywhere just for the fun of it. He had taken everything too seriously… and now he regretted it.
He couldn't deny it: he was envious of his son. Patrick had everything he did not: an IQ completely off the charts and a chance to make up for the, so far, wasted years of his youth.
"He's a very special boy," Fiona said gently. "I know it. I feel it. Don't ask why, I just do." She shook her head with an apologetic smile. "You must think I'm crazy, but when I'm looking at your brother, I feel as though I knew him."
"Well, you do know him." Artemis shrugged. "You've known him for four days already."
"Not like that… I feel as though I had known him much longer… he just seems… feels familiar. Like a long lost relative or something… I'm completely off my rocker, eh?"
Artemis forced a smile on his face. "Of course not."
"Thanks." She made a grimace. "But everyone who knows me thinks I'm crazy… you don't need to pretend that you see me differently. Even my fiancé thinks I'm a bit loony… he just doesn't dare admit it to me because he fears that I'd like him even less than I do now."
"Do you dislike him so much?"
"Well…" She looked away, Artemis's piercing blue eyes making her feel uneasy, "not that much anymore. You know, our fathers arranged this marriage when we were mere children. I only found out when my father died and I was beside myself with rage. I hadn't even met Alexius before, and I was expected to marry him as soon as he deigned to put in an appearance!" Her tiny hands balled into fists. "I was so, so angry that I decided to flee. I would have done anything just to avoid getting married to him. That was when I met Attila… he gave me shelter and treated me in a friendly way. My fiancé knew I was in Attila's camp and came after me…"
She stood up, dusting her white, robe-like clothes. "I couldn't really complain, though… he was nice enough and didn't urge me to marry him right away. He gave me time to get to know him better… and he claimed he'd fallen for me at first sight."
"And you haven't yet fallen in love with him, have you?"
Fiona shook her head.
"Is it because you love someone else?" Artemis knew that this question was slightly tactless and even dangerous, but he felt he had to ask it.
She turned to face him, tears glinting in her huge, hazel eyes. "Maybe," she whispered. "I don't know."
Artemis gave her a politely confused look, even though he had a suspicion as to who Fiona's secret love was.
"Listen, Mu... Artemis, I'm not obliged to tell you about my love life, so let's just drop the topic, shall we?"
"As you wish." The Irishman shrugged, hiding a grin. She had almost called him Mud Boy or Mud Man and she had no idea he knew she was a fairy… He didn't even know if he should tell her he knew it or not mention it at all. Well, even if he told her some day, it wasn't now. "I'm sorry if I hurt your feelings. I didn't mean to."
"Don't worry, you didn't hurt me."
o o o O O O o o o
Shortly before lunchtime Patrick and Irnik stopped fencing and started collecting the swords and bows to take them back to the tent in which the Huns stored the 'training weapons'. The training weapons were only slightly different from the real ones, but they were much less dangerous. The arrows' tips weren't sharp enough to kill and the swords were all blunt.
On their way to the storage tent, they ran into Csenge, Irnik's sister. For some reason Patrick almost dropped all the swords he was carrying.
"You've been out practicing?" she asked with a smile at Patrick.
"Why else would we be carrying these bows and swords, eh?" Irnik said gruffly. "Hold your mouth as long as you can't come up with a decent question, sister!"
"Don't talk to her like that," Patrick told his friend with an annoyed expression.
"Why not? She's just my sister, and a female."
"In our country, we hold females in great esteem," young Short said. Well, undoubtedly male-chauvinism was flourishing in the LEP, and perhaps in whole Haven, but male fairies didn't talk down to females like that. That would have been unacceptable.
"Hold them in great esteem?" came a cold voice from behind them. Prince Aladár walked up to them, wearing his usual 'I'm-the-centre-of-the-universe' expression. "Why, if I may ask?"
"Because they are important part of our society."
"Yeah, they cook and wash your clothes, I presume." Aladár smirked nastily. "Not to mention warm your beds."
Patrick gave the prince a patronising glance. "In our world, females are our equals. They fight just like us if they have to. Why, my own mother is a soldier."
"You've got to be kidding." Irnik made a grimace.
"Why?" Csenge cut in. "Is that so unbelievable for you that even women can fight like you can?"
"Whatever you say, Brit boy." Aladár waved, ignoring the girl. "Anyway, I can well imagine a woman being a soldier in a land where people don't even know how to use a bow. I bet soldiers there don't even need to fight… Is it true that you've never held a bow in your hand before?"
"Yeah. So what?"
"Then what do you people fight with?"
"Well, we have Neutrinos and laser cutters, and if everything goes wrong, we can apply a blue rinse," Patrick replied, enjoying the expression of total confusion that spread on the prince's stupid face.
"Oh. I see." Aladár nodded, not wanting to let the 'Brit' know that he didn't understand a word of what he had just said. "And you don't have bows at all?"
"Just in museums, but once my Da… brother went on a journey to save me from an evil kidnapper, and met a few Indians who gave him a bow. When all his other weapons malfunctioned, he killed a jaguar and my kidnapper with the bow."
"Aha…" The prince made a grimace. He had no idea what a museum and a jaguar were and what Indians were, but he wouldn't sink so low as to admit it. "Tell you what, your brother doesn't seem the warrior type… he's even afraid of riding a horse."
"He is not! He's definitely a big warrior!" Patrick replied angrily. He had never lost his composure like that, but stuck-up little Prince Aladár had that effect on him.
"Yeah? Then let him prove it," Aladár said with an evil smirk.
"What do you mean?" Patrick frowned.
"There's going to be a little fighting festivity in two days, in honour of my father and his… wife-to-be." The prince said 'wife-to-be' with a disgusted expression. "I heard Keve has no fighting partner yet. Your brother's on. Tell him to prepare."
"But…" For the first time in his life, Patrick didn't know how to react.
"Of course, if he's not up to it…" Aladár's voice trailed off.
"He is!"
"Good. Then see you in two days at the festivity." With that the prince left, a malicious smirk on his face.
"Am I right assuming that your brother won't be happy with you?" Irnik asked.
Patrick heaved a sigh. "Yeah. You're absolutely right."
o o o O O O o o o
A little village near Dublin, barely past midnight, 16th July, 2016
Holly woke to feeling the car stop. She didn't know how long she had been asleep, but she assumed it couldn't have been long, as she felt just as tired as she had been when the Star Wars fan trio had given her a lift. It was also still completely dark, not even a slight whitish line visible on the horizon, so dawn must have been still far away.
"Awake, Sleeping Beauty?" Jerry, in the Chewbacca costume, grinned down at her. Apparently he had removed the 'wookie head' that he had so far been sporting and Holly had to admit that he looked much younger than she'd expected. He couldn't have been older than twenty.
"Awake, but not Sleeping Beauty," she replied, stifling a yawn. "Just call me Holly. Why have we stopped, by the way?"
"Well, we need to sleep somewhere, don't we?" Doug – in his marvellous Kenobi costume – replied. "We reserved a room in a pension here. It will be a little small for the four of us, but… I hope you don't mind having to sleep in the same room with three men?"
Holly shook her head. "Actually, I don't want to sleep yet. I need an internet connection to let my friends know I'm okay, and then…" Then what? – she wondered. Return to Fowl Manor? Hardly. She didn't know whether Cavalieri had planted any spy cameras into the building during one of his friendly visits to Artemis Senior. She couldn't risk returning there just yet. Not likely that Cavalieri could have her kidnapped once again from the same house, but one can never be careful enough. Not to mention that Artemis and Patrick were presumably still in Hungary. So to say, the Brains of the Family were far away, and Holly didn't think it was a good idea to let Cavalieri know about her whereabouts before she managed to talk to her husband and son.
But now, she needed to get in contact with Foaly.
"Well, you decide, Holly." Nate shrugged. "But I'm not sure you will find an Internet Café around here… at least not one that is still open at half past twelve…"
But Holly was in luck. The owner of the pension greeted them drowsily, and at Holly's enquiries about an Internet Café, he replied (still half-asleep) that she could use one of the three computers in the pension's dining hall.
"You just go to sleep, I'll join you as soon as I'm finished here," she told her three new friends who nodded between two yawns and trudged upstairs into room 27.
The owner of the place sat down behind the bar counter and poured himself a cup of coffee. Apparently he wasn't trusting enough to let this suspicious 'bride' in her torn wedding clothes alone with his precious computers.
Holly tried to ignore the landlord's curious eyes on her and quickly typed in a secret code that opened a channel to Foaly's computer.
o o o O O O o o o
Attila's camp, 14th April, 453 A.D.
"You did WHAT?" Artemis yelled at Patrick. For the first time in his life, he was yelling at his son.
"So…sorry, Dad," the boy apologised. "But should I have let everyone think you were a coward?"
"Yes, that's exactly what you should have done!" Artemis snapped, dropping himself angrily on the cot in their tent. "Better be a supposed coward than a dead hero!"
"Completely agree, Arty boy," Mulch said wisely. "Say, if you die here, can I have the gold you got from the Holly Short Ransom Fund?"
Artemis ignored the dwarf, his eyes focused on his son who was shuffling his feet and gazing at the thick carpets. "Tell me, Patrick, have you too lost your genius? Because that's what one would think judging by your latest actions!"
"I know, Dad… and I'm absolutely sorry. But nothing's lost… if you happen to get seriously injured, I can still heal you. I'm full of magic, no need to worry."
"No need to worry?" Artemis gasped. "Heavens, Patrick! What got into you? You've completely changed! You're acting as though you were someone else but not my son! What on earth happened? What's this sudden idiocy, eh?"
"I'd say the boy's in love," Mulch commented, sucking a worm into his mouth.
Artemis's eyes widened. "Love? Is that true?"
Patrick still did not look at him. "Dunno, Dad. I just… wanted people to think you were some kind of a hero…"
"To show-off in front of Prince BigHead… and of course little Csenge, huh?" the dwarf chuckled.
"Csenge?" Artemis frowned. "Who's that?"
"Irnik's sister," the boy mumbled. "But I wasn't trying to show-off…"
"Of coooourse not," Mulch waved. "I was behind a tent, searching for dessert worms there, and happened to see and hear you, Patty boy. First you came up with this rubbish about women being equal in your land – obviously to impress the little girl; and then the prince mocked you about your lack of knowledge in archery and you rose to the bait. Genius or not, that was incredibly stupid of you."
"I know that, okay?" Patrick snapped at Mulch. "No need to rub it in! I've long regretted it, but I can no longer change it, so there! Dad will fight this Keve and prove he's a great warrior."
"Which I'm NOT," his father reminded him coldly. "I might survive the fight, but I will undoubtedly be defeated and laughed at. If that's what you wanted, you will have it, Son." He uttered the word 'son' so cynically that it made Patrick feel even worse than he already felt.
"Forgive me, Dad…" he mumbled, but Artemis had already left the tent.
"Well, that's not exactly a good way to develop your father-son relationship," Mulch commented.
"In other words: I screwed it up," Patrick sighed.
"That you have, boy. That you have."
o o o O O O o o o
Ops Booth, Police Plaza, quarter to one a.m., 16th April, 2016
Foaly rubbed his eyes, yawning, and silently cursing Julius. That idiot of a commander had ordered him to stay at Police Plaza and wait for Artemis's call. A call that still hadn't come.
The centaur was giving thoughts to turning his computers off and leaving for home where his wonderfully soft, warm bed awaited him eagerly; when suddenly a message flashed on all of the computers' screens.
Incoming request for contact from aboveground, coordinates…Foaly read the message that contained all information on the incoming call, including the exact location from where the unknown person was trying to contact him. Apparently someone was using the LEP's secret messaging system to reach him from a Mud Man pension near Dublin. Could it be Artemis? Not very likely. Why would the Mud Boy try to call him from a pension and why not from Fowl Manor?
The centaur checked and double-checked the channel for security reasons, and after two minutes he decided it was safe to receive the call.
Despite what he had expected, no image appeared on the screen and no sound came through, only letters. Written in English. Lucky that fairies had the talent with languages…
Foaly! It's Holly! I'm using the LEP's messaging system – thanks heaven one can log into it from even a simple Mud Man computer!
Foaly's heart jumped in delight. Apparently the computer she was using didn't allow for videoconferencing and voice-transmissions, so he too will have to answer by typing – and he would have to type in English, using Latin letters, assuming that Holly's computer couldn't interpret the Gnommish ones.
Holly! Is that really you? Wait, I have to check! What did you buy old Julius for his 699th birthday?
You know, at questions like this, I would be normally rolling my eyes – came the reply. – I bought him a golden snuffbox.
Right, you did! I mean… right, Holly did. I still can't be sure that's you, old girl… Just one other question…
Now I'm really rolling my eyes, Foaly…
Okay, okay, TELL ME, HOW AND WHY did you fall in love with the Mud Boy?
As you too know, we went to Mexico to save our son from that idiot Quartz Quench and I fell for him during this mission. As to why? Well, he's got those dreamy blue eyes, an extremely sexy rear, and…
OKAY, OKAY, EHOUGH,I BELIEVE YOU! Oh, Holly, you have no idea how relieved I am! Say, how did you escape? Who held you captive at all and where?
Holly told him. She recounted the events of the last week, including everything about Emese and Cavalieri, about her miraculous escape and the three friends heading for the Annual Meeting of the Irish Star Wars Fans.
And now I really don't know what to do, Foaly. I don't think I should return to Fowl Manor, in case Cavalieri has planted bugs all over the house. Any advice?
Mmmm... I agree with you on not returning to Fowl Manor. As for the rest? No idea yet. I'm going to consult Julius. I'll call him right now. How long can you stay online?
All night, I suppose. Though the landlord would be really mad if I did. The poor one needs some sleep, after all. And so do I.
Say, are those three BLOKES trustworthy? I mean, it's not like you share a room with three men all the time…
Don't worry, Foaly, I can take care of myself. Besides, they look too funny and loony to be any kind of a threat. They sort of remind me of those crazy gnomes with whom I once had to share a shuttle when they were going to the pizza celebration… They might be off their rocker a bit, but they are decent.
Okay, Holls, stay in contact, I'm CALLING Julius now. Bet he'll love me interrupting his date…
His what?
DATE. YOU READ IT WELL.
Hah! Can't believe! Who's the fortunate one?
Annie Vinyáya.
Wow! You've got to tell me about that later!Promise I will.
o o o O O O o o o
A meadow near Attila's camp, 14th April, 453 A.D.
Artemis wasn't looking where he went. He just went, with the intention of getting as far from their tent and especially from his son as possible.
Just a few hours ago he had felt happy – and slightly envious – that his son was beginning to act like a real child, but now he wished Patrick had stayed the same stoic, cold Fowl as he had been before being kidnapped by Quench…
But the boy had changed, and Artemis could no longer decide whether it was a change for the better or the worse. His rational self told him it was definitely a change for the worse, but his fatherly self (that he had thought did not exist until he first met the boy) told him he should be grateful that Patrick had got a chance for a happier childhood than he had.
If that happy childhood includes sending his father into lethal danger, then it could only be wrong, he reasoned.
You're selfish, Artemis – the other half of his soul replied.
Selfish, me? It was the boy who was so selfish that all he wanted was to be recognised by the Huns but he didn't care how that would affect me!
Oh, Artemis… Don't you see that he wasn't selfish just… childish? – a soothing voice in his mind commented.
Childish? My son? That's unheard of! If he's a proper Fowl, he can't be childish!
A proper Fowl? Is there such a thing at all? Besides, he's partly Short. And probably inherited all Holly's recklessness and her fun-loving nature. You should be happy that he finally came out of his Fowl-cocoon and opened his heart to the rest of the world! That's so much like Holly, isn't it? And you love Holly for what she's like…
I do love her, of course… and believe it or not, I love my son too… but…
But what?
I think he doesn't love me. Or at least, not the way a son should love his father…
You're talking as if you knew how exactly a son should love his father – the soothing voice said, now a little more sharply.
Damn it. You're right. I don't know. My relationship with my father was never a normal one…
But that doesn't mean you can't have a normal father-son relationship with Patrick, does it?
Artemis flopped down on a patch of grass under a blossoming tree. I don't know… he thought. Patrick doesn't even respect me.
What makes you think that, eh?
Artemis hid his face in his palms. Nothing. Just… well, there is something. In his place I wouldn't respect me for sure. He's a genius even if recently he's been acting otherwise, and I'm no longer one. I'm not even the heroic type… that must be the reason why he lied I was a great warrior. Perhaps that's the father-model he'd like to have and he's disappointed that I don't meet his expectations. Neither in the intelligence, nor the heroism department. That poor boy, how he must have longed to finally meet someone who equals him in intelligence, and then when he finally met me, he had to realise that I was no longer clever enough to have sensible conversations with…
He heaved a sigh. I was unfair to him, he realised. Certainly, what he did was rash and stupid, but I shouldn't have shouted at him like that… all he wanted was to be proud of me. And I'll fight that Keve and make him proud, if that's the last thing I do. A sarcastic smile appeared on his face. Well, it better not be the last thing I do, or I won't have a chance to witness the funeral and save Holly… Now who could give me a warrior crash course?
"…never hesitate to tell me if you need the shaman's help. Or mine." That was what Attila had told him at the feast a few days earlier. Perhaps it was time to remind the king of his promise…
Artemis stood up to walk back into the camp and seek an audience with Attila when his glance fell on Fiona conversing with another tiny person behind a beech tree. The other one seemed to be an elf too, and Artemis had a suspicion that it was Holly's grandfather.
The two elves apparently thought to be far away enough from the camp to be unseen and unheard by the Mud People and they hadn't even spotted Artemis.
The Irishman decided not to disturb them – after all, they needed to develop their relationship to be able to create Holly's father sooner or later…
Bending to keep out of the elves' sight as much as possible, Artemis hurried back towards the camp.
o o o O O O o o o
"They died?" Fiona's eyes widened. "All of them?"
"Yeah." Alexius nodded with a sad expression. "Not that I loved my cousin and his parents… they were a bunch of jerks, but… they were relatives. And they're gone."
Fiona felt like saying 'I'm sorry', but then remembered that Rufus Short had wanted to have her killed, and decided against it. Perhaps she shouldn't even mention the attack to Alex. He was upset enough even without that…
"There's only one good thing about their death… if one can say such thing." The male elf made a grimace. "They can no longer stand in our way."
"So, you haven't given up on me, huh?" Fiona gave him a sad smile.
He shook his head seriously. "I haven't. And you promised to give me a chance…"
"I know. And I am giving you a chance," she sighed. "Perhaps I should visit you underground some day… just to see where you live…"
"That would be brilliant!" Alexius's face lit up. "You'd love it there! 'Course, it's not as green and fresh-aired as it's here, but… if you don't like my place, we could move to Haven. It's going to be the city of every fairy's dreams. At least that's how they're advertising the apartments for sale. Funny that the city isn't even finished to move in, but the free estate agents are already selling the houses. Just tell me Fiona, and I'll buy one there. Or we could buy it together. You could choose it if you like."
Alexius Short's eyes were so sincere, so puppy-like… Fiona couldn't resist the temptation to reach out and caress his face. "I'll think of it, Alex, I promise. Until then, give me your current address, in case I feel like paying you a visit."
o o o O O O o o o
Mandrake Crescent, Lower Elements, one a.m., 16th July, 2016
"It was a wonderful evening, Julius," Wing-Commander Vinyáya said, stopping in front of the door of her house. "Thank you."
"Oh, no need to thank, Annie… Actually, it's me who owes you a thank-you. It was your idea to go on a… to have dinner together," Root replied, embarrassedly tugging at his beard.
"Well, then… good night," she said, but didn't budge from the doorstep. Probably she was waiting for something… but what? Julius couldn't tell.
"Er… yes, good night, Annie…" he mumbled.
She inched a little closer to him, her eyes never leaving his. What was she planning? – he thought. Surely not…? But what if…?
Julius suddenly felt his heart hammering against his ribcage – something that only happened to him in life-threatening situations.
Holy Frond, it had been centuries since he'd last kissed a woman! After a short and unfortunate marriage and a quick divorce, Root had been a loner and never thought that life would some day again grace him with the chance of love…
Love?She leaned even closer, and their lips were only inches apart, when Root's comlink buzzed.
"D'Arvit," he swore, pulling away from Vinyáya and fishing the tiny gadget out of his pocket. "Root here!" he barked into it, turning away from the woman. "What, you, Foaly? WHAT? Holly's free? Escaped?" The news was so overwhelming and exhilarating that it made him completely forget about the outside world. "Thank Frond! Still no news from Fowl? What the heck could have happened with that boy? What? She doesn't want to return to Fowl Manor? And she's right! Tell her to stay with those Star Wars freaks, she'll be safe with them for a while. And tell me if there's anything new!"
He switched off the comlink with an enraptured expression. "She's free," he whispered.
"Indeed?" a voice spoke up behind him.
Root froze. Vinyáya was still there. Of course she was still there! And he'd blabbered about Holly and Fowl in front of her! D'Arvit, d'Arvit, d'Arvit!
He slowly turned around to see the black-haired woman leaning against the door of her house, her arms folded before her chest, her eyebrows raised in a challenging way. "Holly escaped? From where? I thought she was in Atlantis, taking care of her sick aunt… And Fowl? Didn't he give us his word not to contact the fairies ever again?"
"Er…" Root tried to loosen the neck of his uniform because he felt that suddenly the temperature in Haven had rose by at least twenty Celsius degrees. "I… I can explain it, Annie."
"I'm eagerly awaiting it," she replied. "Come in. I assume you have a lot of explaining to do."
o o o O O O o o o
A/N: almost forgot. I made a little New Year's present for you guys. You can find it in my yahoo group (link to the group in my ffnet bio), in the Files/Miscellaneous section. Click on 'AFsummaryexecution'. It's a collection of the most hilarious Artemis Fowl fanfic summaries that can be found on this wonderful, wonderful site. It's a laugh, and it is only meant to entertain you not to offend anyone, that's why the authors of the fics are not mentioned (I don't even remember who wrote the fics that made my list, I just read their summaries). And yes, you need to be a member of my group to access the file…
Secondly, we have had an AF Christmas art challenge in my deviantart AF group (ArtemisFowlfc – link in my profile). Go and check out the entries, and if you have a devart account, you can even vote for your favourite!
And now: see that nice, lilac button down there? Click on it, please and share your thoughts on this chapter with me!