Butler adjusted his gi. It was an old, sweat-soaked article of clothing, though it would be difficult to tell at a glance. The fabric was completely immaculate, showing only the faintest creases and blemishes born from years of diligent mending and cleaning. This loving care was only natural. The gi was a graduation gift from Madam Ko, after all.
That had been a long time ago. Couldn't have been more than thirty years, but when the bodyguard looked in the mirror, he wondered to himself if it wasn't something closer to fifty. He clenched a fist, beginning a warmup.
It was probably different for a person who aged normally. that entire affair of incremental decay, creeping into their body year by year, day by day. The chills, aches, and pains, all the joints sticking where they oughtn't to, all the damp slowly seeping into the bones.
But for Butler, he had fallen asleep, bleeding out in his failed charge's arms, and woken up in a freezer full of ice, sixty.
The bodyguard walked up to a panel which he activated with the prerequisite thumbprint and iris scan—the machine checked for a heartbeat and pupil movement, of course—and a hologram appeared in front of him. Butler bowed to it, and slowly and methodically began to spar with it.
The blue, featureless combatant, a figure that the manservant had grown almost fond of, slowly increased the speed and ferocity of its blows. Of course, it couldn't actually hit him, but that didn't matter. Butler kept track of each blow that slipped past his guard, every counter missed, every move that he was just a beat too slow to catch. The flickering hologram didn't exactly have weight behind its punches, but even so every blow stung.
By the end of the hologram's sequence, Butler was hopelessly driven back under a rain of blows. He panted as the hologram stopped to bow and winked out of existence. His gi was drenched in sweat, and he felt as if he would never catch his breath again. At the level that that simulation was operating at, you would have to be on the very cusp of superhuman to keep up your guard, much less return any attacks. Butler was accustomed to doing so. But now? He shook his head.
Just as the bodyguard had finally managed to settle his breathing, Holly walked into the dojo, wearing her LEP jumpsuit.
"G'morning, big-man," she yawned, breaking into his thoughts. "Seriously, that lemonade is good stuff. You sure that stuff wasn't spiked?"
"Artemis tells me under no circumstances are we to give you alcohol of any kind," Butler said, tightening his belt.
Besides, he thought, Saigon was more than enough for me.
Holly clapped a hand on her forehead.
"Ugh. I knew that. Mornings."
Butler hid a smile. The still sleepy elf walked up to the same panel that Butler had earlier and slapped a hand on it. A hologram that was appropriately sized for her sprung into existence, and she attacked it, sudden ferocity replacing sleepiness.
It was interesting for Butler to watch. While it shouldn't have surprised him as much as it did, he still didn't have a good grip on the elfin captain's fighting style. Sometimes it was easy to forget they were entirely different species with radically dissimilar builds. But for someone with as much martial arts experience as him or more—not that there was anybody outside of a specific island in the South China Sea that would fit that description—it was almost more confusing. Like listening to a language where he could make out individual words or phrases but strung together in some baffling pattern. There were elements of classical redirection martial arts as well as something akin to the Japanese law enforcement's tahou jitsu held together by a scrappiness that was all Holly.
In other words, it was a style that seemed completely incoherent to any experienced martial artist but which the elf knew the steps as if a dance. Butler figured that if you had as small a stature as the elf did and regularly tangled with troll-adjacent entities, you'd eventually develop and master a style like that. However, the bodyguard expected there to be a noticeable drop in efficiency when facing a combatant of similar size. Apparently, not so.
Butler tracked the elf shuffling around the hologram, looking for something. Every so often, she'd break out of the vicious melee and then purposefully circle around. After she found whatever it was to her satisfaction, she moved again. After the third time she circled, the manservant understood.
She was standing in such a way that the projectors would be blocked by her back. It didn't turn off the hologram, as there were multiple projectors in the floor that created the blue-figure, but it nonetheless left a slight splotch on the light-projection that translated into a slightly sloppier fighting style. Butler guessed it was due to a combination of the sensors not being able to pick out Holly's form and the hologram having to deal with an unexpected lack of a projector. Whenever it seemed like the program had adjusted to the loss of a projector, Holly moved on.
Sometimes he found it difficult to believe that elves were not considered predators.
Eventually the sparring program ended, and the now slightly warped figure sketched a bow before vanishing. Butler tossed a towel, which Holly gratefully caught, mopping the sweat off of her face.
"That was a pretty good way to wake up. Normally when I wake up I get to maybe shower before dealing with Haven's traffic."
Butler gave the captain a wry grin.
"The benefits of living where you work."
"And the place where you live being an entire freaking mansion," Holly pointed out, "don't you forget that bit."
"I seldom do, Holly. Though I may like to point out, that being the case, it does mean I keep tabs on the goings-in and out of the manor."
Holly walked over to a fridge and pulled out a bottle of Irish spring water. She drank from it deeply, inviting Butler to continue with a questioning look. He obliged.
"That includes anybody flying on or off the grounds."
Holly choked, spluttering.
"Ah, whoops" she said weakly, hitting a fist against her chest.
"You gave Opal Koboi a pair of wings, and if I'm not mistaken, the prototypes that Artemis had set aside."
"Uh… yes."
"Pity you didn't give her the keys to a shuttle while you were at it."
"Frond, you sound like Artemis. She wasn't going to do any of that."
"And what makes you so sure of that?"
"If I say elfin intuition will that help?"
"No."
Holly deflated.
"Holly," Butler continued, a note of exasperation entering his voice, "think of this from the perspective of a bodyguard for a moment. A person nearly kills every human on the planet through means that I couldn't even begin to understand and then she conveniently 'loses her memory—'"
"Well it's a little different than that—"
"I saw the hole in the original Opal's skull, I won't deny that. All I ask is that you don't give her full liberties before something happens that we're all going to regret."
"You're a little paranoid Butler."
"It's my job." The man-mountain sagged. From Holly's perspective, those shelf-like shoulders drooping were a landslide unto themselves. Then he composed himself, straightening up and giving the elf a look that she couldn't quite parse.
"That's enough lecturing. What do you say to a good spar?"
"Well, anything better than getting yelled at." She pinwheeled her arm.
"A real spar."
"Do I get a Neutrino?"
"Oftentimes I've found that when you're around Artemis you're armed less often than you'd like."
Holly gave the manservant a questioning look.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I mean that I can't be around Artemis forever. Somebody that's less old and will continue to be unaffected by age would be ideal."
Holly blinked. Then she vigorously shook her head, putting her hands up.
"Wait a second, Butler. I can't replace you."
"I wouldn't think about forcing the job onto you."
Holly walked up to the bodyguard and awkwardly patted his hip. It had always felt like the trunk of a particularly solid oak to her, so it was that much more alarming now that it felt so frail.
"Butler, it's not that I'm opposed to it at all, but I mean I still need to work. As much as I love it here on the surface, I can't stay here all the time. Haven is my home."
Butler shrugged.
"Just a thought. It will never be your career, but I think there's something to be said about keeping your options open."
He got into a readied position, tensed body-language not communicating any of the congeniality in his tone.
Holly shivered, crouching down into a lower stance. It didn't seem particularly necessary, given the already overwhelming height advantage, but she liked to feel more stable. Not that she wouldn't drop like a sack of potatoes anyway if Butler got a good hit on her, but hey, she'd take what she could get.
"Besides, I'm pretty sure that I can't take you in a fight."
"Never know until you try," Butler rumbled ominously, stepping forward.
"D'arvit," Holly muttered, quickly backpedaling to gain some distance. Unfortunately, Butler had other ideas. The man mountain turned the initial step forward into a near sprint. He had his body low, keeping a tightly focused gaze at the fairy. The elfin captain thought this was what deer felt like standing in front of trains, except for the fact that dodging to the right or left would lead to the train snatching you up with arms the size of logs.
Well, nothing would get done by just watching oneself get run over. Trying to slide underneath the behemoth was suicide, so the only chance would be to vault over. Jumping about seven feet of muscle and momentum? Sure, she was feeling like a sprite today. But Butler would anticipate that given that he wasn't stupid. So would she go down the obvious path?
Frond, no. What did she look, sane?
Holly, despite every animal instinct in her body screaming for her not to, ran headlong into the charging manservant. She locked eyes with him, a savage grin on her face.
"Hey, Butler," the elf said, her voice suddenly echoing from everywhere in the room.
Butler had been on the receiving end of that often enough that he knew what to do. He averted his eyes, looking away from the mesmer but still keeping track of where Holly was moving. Unfortunately, the timing was thrown off, and he couldn't quite get a good look at her again. However, surely she'd go over his back? Butler hedged his bets, timing it so that his massive left hand would appear over his shoulder, swatting any errant fairy down there like the angry wrath of god. Holly had different plans, however.
Butler felt his right arm at his side be pulled. No, not pulled. He was being thrown. He felt his center of gravity slip out from under him as his momentum was forcefully redirected. Like a train being slammed into by a particularly aggressive mini-coop, he lurched.
The bodyguard glanced beneath his right side and spotted an insolently winking elf. She wasn't even trying to throw him. No, that would never work. Rather, she was putting minute bits of force exactly where she needed to to shove over the man.
Butler would have even called it fine work. The elf had slipped underneath his armpit and was gracefully thrusting him off his center of gravity. Unfortunately, the appreciation for the finesse was immediately undercut by the fairy delivering a quick rabbit-punch directly into his kidney. Butler had taken heavier blows there, but the concentrated jab from Holly stung.
Gritting his teeth, Butler stopped, redirecting his momentum to dodge out of the way of any further blows from Holly while also swinging around a thumb-jab of his own. There was no particular need for overwhelming strength, as knocking the fairy unconscious was more than sufficient.
Holly drew back, ducking out of the way. She immediately straightened up and ran back.
Frond he can move fast, she thought, frantically scrabbling out of reach, and he "needs to retire," he says.
However, even though she didn't—couldn't, really—notice Butler's slower-than-normal movements, nor his somewhat labored breathing, the elf realized she was faring much better than she, by all rights, should have been doing. Maybe she could do this. Holly decided once again to brave the man-mountain. She skidded to a halt, and turned around.
Butler watched with a patient eye as the elf once again slipped into his guard. She leveraged her size well. While he certainly had such a weight and height advantage on her that it hardly warranted comparison, that didn't mean a whole lot if he couldn't land a hit on her. He'd just need to be patient, then. If she made one mistake, then he'd pounce on it. The goliath decided to simply weather anything the elf could possibly throw at him and then land a counter. It wasn't as if he was in any danger of getting knocked out by the elf anytime soon.
Holly wasn't sure whether dragging this out would be any better for her. Fighting Butler was comparable to smashing your head against a brick wall, but the wall also actively wanted to smash your skull in. Luckily, the last time that Holly had a checkup, the doctor had confirmed her skull was a little thicker than most. Not quite crunchball jock level, but enough that Foaly would never pass up a jibe. She erratically weaved around Butler, trying to catch him off guard. His unfailingly vigilant poker face assured her she was doing nothing of the sort. That was fine, she'd just need to get risky.
The pain from her earlier jab to the kidneys was probably fading from all that circling, so another dash in was in order. Butler cocked an eyebrow. Death by a thousand cuts, was it? An interesting strategy. Holly came in, swinging wide and sloppy. Now there was a sloppy feint if he had ever seen one. But, that was a mistake. After all, if she wanted to land a counter, she'd need to actually be able to follow up on it. Like a coiled viper, Butler lunged for the elf.
And Holly stopped. She cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted.
"Artemis, look out!"
For a member of the fairies in green, a good pair of lungs was a prerequisite. And that wasn't just cardio. Yelling took conditioning. And the elf was certainly no slacker in that department.
Butler's full concentration was on Holly, but what she shouted had unsettled him on a primal level. He didn't look back, he was far too well trained for that, but the sheer panic and volume in that voice tickled a primitive part of his brain. Well worn instincts in his body screamed for him to look for his charge.
And he lost Holly.
Rather, he blinked and she disappeared. Was she shielding? Butler warily hunkered down. He wasn't sure where she had gone, but he could find the shimmer eventually. Better still, he could predict where she was going to go. The manservant was no Artemis Fowl, but his combat instincts far outstripped those of his friend's. And he guessed… there.
Butler stepped forward, thrusting a palm at an empty patch of air.
And Holly uppercutted him, right underneath his ribcage. A liver shot. Pain. Butler nearly doubled over. Yet even wracked with pain as he was, he realized his mistake.
She had never shielded at all.
Instead, in that split second when his attention was fully on punishing that sloppy feint, Holly had distracted him. Then his selective attention did the rest, and he was unable to detect the elf scurrying around underfoot. Then when he committed to an attack on where he'd predicted she'd be, Holly capitalized on that moment.
Unfortunately for her, it'd take a hell of a lot more than some internal hemorrhaging to stop him.
Even as the captain finished her uppercut, Butler began to move. Using his body's instinctive curling up, he began to grab her in a massive bear-hug.
And she disappeared again.
As Butler once again closed his arms around empty air, he figured what was coming next. And he was in a much worse position besides. Organ pain wasn't something that one easily shook off, particularly as a fight dragged on. And Holly wasn't exactly the kind of person who let you catch your breath.
Butler felt a pair of determined elfin limbs suddenly lock around his neck, constricting his windpipe. She had bounded up his back and clamped her legs against his neck, pushing against the small of his neck for leverage. Before the bodyguard could so much as react, he was being strangled. He could feel every muscle in Holly's limbs strain, feeling for all their slenderness like steel cables. Darkness clawed at the edge of his vision. The pain in his torso throbbed. God, it hurt less being shot.
But he wouldn't give up yet. In a last-ditch effort, he padded at the air behind him, looking to grab the elf. She wasn't particularly inclined, but there was only so much maneuvering in her position. Once he had a solid grip, he could feel the elf strain even harder to strangle him. That was fine. He was actually going to help her. The manservant yanked Holly back, tightening the grip against his throat, but successfully giving his head some room to move. Or more accurately, the back of his skull.
Holly's eyes widened, and she crossed her arms to defend herself from what was coming. With the force of a battering ram, Butler tilted his head forward and rocketed it back, connecting a devastating headbutt against the elf's guard. It buckled. A good effort.
But ultimately, not enough.
With that final heave, the man-mountain's eyes rolled to the back of his head.
—
"Frond, Butler. Can we not try to kill each other like that again, next time?"
The manservant's eyes flickered open, and he found he was staring at the ceiling of the dojo. What had he been doing? A elfin face suddenly came into view, looking down at him with worried, mismatched eyes.
Right. He was lying flat on his ass after losing a spar to an elf half his height. Well, he'd expected she had it in her anyways. But always good to check. His hand unconsciously went up to his throat, expecting there to be some nasty bruising.
"Oh, you're fine," Holly breathed a sigh of relief. "Don't worry about that stuff, big-man. I've got magic for a reason."
That explained why he wasn't hemorrhaging internally either. He winced as he remembered the shot to his liver. Not a fun thing to be on the receiving end of, particularly if your opponent was the exact height to capitalize on it.
He sat up, propping himself up with his arms, letting out a deep breath.
"So you can beat me," he said simply.
"Everybody in Retrieval is going to know about it by the end of the week," she reassured him.
Butler shrugged.
"Reputation is part of the business, but I think I've proven myself to those jarheads a while ago."
"Yeah, yeah, just because you've fought a troll, so what? I've done it too. I'll go fight a troll right now if you want."
"It is tradition for the old bodyguards to train their successors."
Holly shot him an exasperated look.
"Still trying for that, huh?"
"Can't blame an old man for trying."
Holly didn't answer immediately. Padding around, she sat down in a crouch next to him, bringing her knees to her chest.
"There's a lot of things to think about," she finally said.
"You've got time. I'm not going to retire tomorrow, mind you."
The elf stared. Then she shot to her feet, yelling.
"Wait, what was that all about then? That whole fight, passing-on-the-torch business? I already started planning how I'd move my ferns up here, d'arvit!"
"You can still move your belongings up here, Captain Short," Butler reasonably pointed out.
Even as Holly hurled expletives at him in response, the bodyguard couldn't help but crack a smile. Maybe he could retire in peace.