Artemis stopped by the kitchen to grab something to eat. Holly had stolen his food, after all. Just because he hadn't touched it while working didn't mean that he wasn't eventually going to eat it.
He grabbed a tin of foie gras pâté—naturally fed of course, he wasn't a monster—and spread it over some crackers before harking the concoction down.
On his way out, he bumped into a rather sore Butler. Contorting to fit into a five year-old sized tunnel was clearly not a job that suited the seven-foot-tall Eurasian man. The bodyguard was holding something clear away from himself with two fingers, wrinkling his nose at it. For all intents and purposes, it had the appearance of a soiled diaper.
"Butler," Artemis greeted, cocking an eyebrow. "I see you've got something."
"Artemis," the manservant nodded. "I believe I've found another one of Beckett's 'secret stashes.' I was wondering where the little bugger had hidden your mother's chocolates."
Artemis frowned, looking at the yellowed box. There was a brown, goopy mess festering at the center of it, so Beckett likely had forgotten of its existence. And, just like a sapling erupting from a squirrel-forsaken acorn, a tall stalk of mold was happily growing from the chocolate. Butler pushed a panel in the wall, revealing a chute. He promptly slid the rotten box of chocolates in and pulled a lever, incinerating it. A fair response.
"Well, I'm afraid Mrs. Fowl will be short a box of truffles for the foreseeable future. Or at least until you get the whole world economy business running again."
"Your faith in me is heartening, but I'm afraid my priority at the moment is constructing a functional spacecraft from scratch."
The bodyguard let out a low whistle.
"Well, Holly and I will be around if you should need any assistance."
"Appreciated, old friend."
Butler nodded and left the kitchen, off to see to the million things in the manor that allow Artemis's life to run smoothly. The lingering scent of smoky chocolate wafted out of the kitchen. At the smell, Artemis got an idea for a peace offering to Nopal.
Of course, he thought sardonically, what better remuneration for an invasive drugging than sweets? Who said apologies were difficult?
Artemis massaged his temples. He certainly did have a lot of things to answer for. Nevertheless, ensuring that Holly and Butler came to no harm wasn't something he was ever going to apologize for. Not that the thought abated the guilt over-much, but it was good to at least know what he was protecting at the end of the day.
Now time to dig through the cabinets, find where his mother had hidden the rest of her chocolates, and apologize to a possibly-pretending pixie mastermind.
—
Artemis straightened his tie before knocking. Not that he expected the occupant of the room to complain if he didn't knock. However, Nopal was not Holly, and thus was not privy to their shared song-and-dance of courtesies and discourtesies. It was difficult to really pin down all the things they did by habit, even for them. It just felt so right.
After receiving no answer besides some shuffling within the room, he entered. Nopal was lying on the bed, clearly enjoying the softness of her sheets. She was also no longer in her straitjacket. Artemis nearly had a heart attack before he found the straitjacket tossed carelessly over a chair. Beside it was an empty bowl with some fruit juice in it and a note. It was in Holly's messy handwriting.
I'm not keeping Nopal in a straitjacket, mud-boy. Make sure she eats something. I need to complete the Ritual to see if I can't heal any of her muscles into something that isn't slop. Don't do anything stupid without Butler. - Holly
Well, he would at least appreciate it Holly told him what she was going to do before-
Ah, came the revelation. This is what I do to people, isn't it? Little wonder that Holly is always in such a fowl mood.
The elf's arguably-justifiable emancipation of Nopal aside, Artemis focused on the pixie, gaze sweeping over to where she was laying. She had locked her gaze onto him as soon as he had entered, but when he looked back she pretended that the ceiling was suddenly fascinating. Which it was, mind you. Artemis had written several treatises on architecture, particularly Fowl manor, under the pseudonym L. Yevashon Plohn. Presently however, Artemis severely doubted that Nopal was pondering the roof beam's exquisite blendings of form and function.
Artemis sighed. Stalling.
Undoubtedly the clone still felt awful about the entire name affair. The genius could have mixed an amnesiac into the truth serum, but potentially robbing Nopal of any of the few memories she had left Artemis feeling sick. Still, allowing people to call him "Arty" wasn't necessarily something that Artemis was interested in. Three people doing it in his life were as much as he felt comfortable with. To top it all off, the words were coming from Opal Koboi's mouth. Not quite the stuff of nightmares, but close.
Artemis sat down in a convenient stool by Nopal's bed. A little tall for him, and the open window to his back let in a bit too much natural light for his tastes. The pixie had her back turned to him. He suspected that even if Nopal wasn't too physically weak to roll over in bed, she still wouldn't be making eye contact.
Well best to get this over with quickly; an apology to a fairy's back was better than no apology at all. Exchanging words with an angry Holly was rarely an eye-to-eye scenario, so Artemis was used to it.
"Allow me to apologize-"
"I'm sorry-"
Nopal more-or-less blurted her apology out, whereas Artemis was a bit more deliberate. He cocked an eyebrow in surprise, more interested in what Nopal had to say and not at all simply putting off having to actually apologize. Nopal for her part seemed to go rigid at the fact that they interrupted each other.
They stayed like that for a while, waiting for one another to say something. Eventually, figuring they could remain silent for hours and that would be an unacceptable waste of time, Artemis opened his mouth to speak.
"Nopal-"
It was at this point that Nopal gathered enough strength to roll over, meeting his eyes resolutely.
Ah well, just go on and interrupt me, Artemis thought.
"I did a wrong thing."
Artemis said nothing, but that was because there just wasn't really any way to respond to that observation.
"I did some thinking. I don't have a lot of experience in anything and I don't know that much. What I do know for sure is that you and Holly are important to me."
Nopal seemed to gain some strength, sliding herself against the sheets and onto a ramp of pillows behind her until she was nearly sitting up. The effort showed on her face, but she continued talking in between pants.
"And because you're Holly and… you, that means you're kind. Very kind. Even if I called you a name you didn't like, you would not berate Nopal, nor do any of the things that Nopal suggested. But I watched your face very closely, so I could see that I was wrong. Still, I shouldn't have cried since that was an unnecessary burden on you. I made a mistake."
Artemis looked back into her unflinching gaze. But it was just a facade. Nopal's voice was shaky. She let her lip tremble, she fidgeted, she was blinking rapidly. Not exactly the picture of someone calm. Artemis found that he identified with her to a disturbing degree.
This was, after all, exactly how he had appeared in front of his father when he was young.
There was love and affection there, yes, but it was locked behind so many layers of affectations. All the flimsy airs constructed just for the scant approval of his father's nod. At that point, it was difficult to call it love at all.
He knew the correct move here was to somehow comfort the pixie, but there were so many difficulties in that. Putting aside the deep seed of suspicion that he harbored, he couldn't comfort her for a more simple reason. He had never learned to. God, where was his compassionate side when he needed it?
Likely out in the Irish forest hunting for a spot to do the Ritual, he thought against his involuntarily.
Artemis suddenly felt the conspicuous loss of a certain elfin captain beside him. He tried to imagine what she would do in this position. Hell, she probably would have been able to handle what had happened when Nopal had her raw, unfiltered fears and emotions unmasked by the serum just fine if Artemis wasn't there.
But at the same time, Artemis was certain that Holly had never been put into this situation before. She had never stood on a vine-patterned carpet in front of an imposing desk, staring at the only father she knew. She had never been six, standing in an ill-fitting suit and been talked to without a hint of familial love. She had never thought that a salary bonus was the highest form of fatherly approval that she could receive. Holly hadn't been there, so she couldn't have known what Artemis wished somebody had said to him then.
Artemis leaned forward, eyes soft and full of understanding. He found it came easier to him than he'd expected. Nopal would have shrunk back, but she was too tired and surprised. Artemis laid a reassuring hand on her shoulder, giving her a crooked smile.
"Nopal. You don't have to be so strong. It's okay to cry."
Artemis had never been told that. Butler couldn't have told him that, and his father certainly hadn't. But he could tell Nopal. The pixie looked at him, finding the truth in his kindly gaze, before sniffling and beginning to sob. It was a quiet kind of cry, the release of somebody who had been relieved of a thorny burden they had convinced themselves they could carry, and it wracked her shoulder. Teardrops dripped down Nopal's cheeks.
"I'm sorry Arty," she blubbered, nose running. "I just wouldn't know what to do if I had made you mad. I thought that if I couldn't call you by your name that meant I wouldn't be able to talk to you at all. I just want to be your friend."
Artemis kept his hand on the pixie's shoulder. He found that he still couldn't completely trust the fairy before him. His skepticism had kept him alive before, but now? He wasn't sure it was so useful.
But, suspicious as he was, Artemis could at least give Nopal something this small.
"It's quite alright, Nopal," he reassured. "Please, call me Arty. It's short for Artemis. We can be friends."
"Really?" Nopal hiccuped, not daring to hope.
"Really," Artemis said gravely, giving the pixie's shoulder a squeeze.
He felt like he should have taken the hand off by now, but hey, he was learning. Nopal smiled. The box of truffles that Artemis had brought were left, forgotten on the nightstand.