Avery's Note: I never know what kinds of events would define Butler, but I have unleashed my imagination to create what I think would be appropriate. Thanks for reading!
Summary: Butler is an enigma. Butler's past is even more secretive than the man himself. When a young woman shows up claiming to be his illegitimate daughter, his world is turned upside down and inside out. Must he now choose between having the family he always wanted or his young master, Artemis?
The story thus so far: Avery Lefleur, the illegitimate daughter of Artemis Fowl's manservant, finally meets her father face-to-face. Albeit Artemis is attracted to the girl, he is alarmed by her ability to get past him.
Just Tell Me You Love Me
Chapter 2: Flashback 70s
Butler hid in the shadows, waiting for the guard to come around the corner. He counted backwards from eleven slowly. During his observation period, Butler had noticed that the lookout made his rotation every fifteen seconds exact. With three seconds left to go, Butler held his breath and retracted his right arm.
Like lightning, he struck out at the passing sentinel, knocking him unconscious. Searching with his hands in the dark, Butler fumbled around for the set of identity cards required to get past the security locks. A few seconds later, he found what he wanted in the lower left breast pocket.
Clearing the next few floors was so simple Butler felt something was amiss. The guards were all just as predictable as the one he had earlier knocked unconscious. For a moment, Butler doubted himself and whether he truly deserved the blue diamond tattooed onto his shoulder.
"Madame Ko is never wrong," Butler mumbled to himself as he dashed up another flight of stairs.
He stopped at the top level of the hotel, which was converted to be the ballroom suite for the richest and most powerful of Europe. The sophisticated contemporary music wafted out to greet Butler, standing at the pearly white double French-style doors. He did a last minute check of his gun located at the small of his back and the crispness of his tuxedo.
Butler took one breath and pushed one of the doors back. Without effort, Butler blended in with the crowds gathered all about the room. Inconspicuous as always, not a single individual questioned his presence let alone spare a glance at him.
He walked around, scanning the crowd for a particular individual without appearing to do just that. Butler leaned upon the bar with one arm and continued his visual. He checked a glance at the polished black onyx Rolex on his left wrist. It was only 8:27. The night was still young.
"Can I get you something?" the man behind the bar asked, brandishing a glass cup.
"The most beautiful woman at the party," Butler quipped.
There was some truth laced behind the words. While waiting for the next Fowl to be born, Butler had temporarily taken up the profession of mercenary. His current objective was to retrieve a young woman from the party. As to why exactly he was supposed to kidnap her, Butler wasn't sure, but a job was a job. No questions asked.
"Delilah?" the bartender asked. He chuckled as he filled up the glass with a dry martini. "You're gonna need some major balls to get your prissy ass off this bar and talk to her." He pushed the drink over to Butler.
Butler flinched slightly at the crude language and ignored the alcoholic beverage. He, however, had gained the information that he wanted. Turning his head, Butler looked at the bar tender. "Why's that?"
"Take a look for yourself. She's over there, in the lounge chair."
Butler threw his gaze over at the stunning goddess the other man motioned towards. She was dressed in a long, flowing green dress. It was the avant-garde style only fearless and spunky women had the nerve to wear. Her black tresses were pinned upon her head with rare gemstones, yet a couple braids fell to frame her delicate face. Most interesting of all were her unique eyes. They were solid green eyes of flecks of blue in them.
The woman sitting in the longue chair knew most all of the men were either watching her or trying not to watch her. Conversely, the young one at the bar seemed to have different intentions than to just have sex. At eighteen and carrying the persona of confidence, Domovoi Butler was incredibly handsome. His short, scruffy, jet black hair and personally tailored suit gave him the debonair charm of an older Russian man. He had serious, dark navy blue eyes. He was tall and well-built, but slender rather than bulky.
She purposely dropped her hand carved ivory fan to the ground. Butler noticed and assumed that as a signal of engagement. As she reached down to retrieve it, Butler was already at her side, holding the fan out to her. Their eyes met and locked for a moment too long.
He gave her a plastic smile, his perfect teeth on full display.
"Excuse me, Mademoiselle Lefleur," Butler said as he straightened and properly offered her fan back to her again.
She laughed. It was a high twitter of a sound. It was soothing to hear, like one finds it enjoyable to the listen to the loving crooning of a mother. "Please, I'm not French. Nor am I a woman on any respectable degree."
"I respectively disagree."
Lefleur moved a few inches over to the right on the large longue chair to make enough room for Butler to sit. "Sit. Let us discuss this issue because I do not wish for you to get the wrong impression."
Butler sat next to the woman exclusive of hesitation. It was clear to him that Lefleur was aware of his mission and what it entailed. Without thinking, he sat back and placed an arm around her shoulders. "Yes, let us."
"This is your garden of secrets?" Butler raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that clichéd?"
Delilah laughed as she tugged on his hand to follow her down the path. "Sure it is. But that doesn't make this place any less valuable to me." The sunlight reflected off the clear waters of the lake the two were walking along. It was a beautiful day.
They stopped at a wooden park bench beneath a large tree. Butler sat down and Delilah hopped onto his lap. She tucked her head in the crook of his broad shoulder.
"Tell me about yourself, Domovoi. I am curious about your line of work."
Butler shifted Delilah on his lap and encircled her small frame with his muscular arms. "As you probably know, every Butler is assigned to the next heir in the Fowl line at birth. I act as the physical strength behind the intelligence of the criminal mastermind. However, because I graduated ahead of my class and the next Fowl is yet to be born for a few more years, I have been given the opportunity to enjoy myself."
Delilah took one of Butler's hands in hers. "For what time you have left… Will you spend those years by my side?" She titled her head upwards and gazed deep into Butler's eyes.
"Shall I stand your bodyguard or your lover?"
"Both." A smile crept upon Delilah's lips as she saw the confirmation in Butler's face even though he was yet to voice it. Butler reciprocated the motion, smiling back. Feeling a warmth spring in her heart unlike anything else she felt before, Delilah leaned forward and kissed Butler.
"I will not marry that damn bastard!" Delilah shouted at her mother.
"And why won't you, Delilah? He has everything to offer you," her mother asked. Her voice sent uncomfortable sensations down Butler's spine. He heard the frame of a fan snap as Delilah's mother opened one. "We must keep the family name alive." The voice was a little more muted from behind the fan. Butler recognized that it was the feminine way to convey emotion.
"He does not love me."
"What does that have anything to do with marrying him?"
There was an angry pause in the conversation. Butler tensed in fear that physical aggression would take place. His grip tightened on the crystal doorknob of the study, but he refrained from interrupting the family dispute. He knew that in the Lefleur family, inheritance was passed along the female line. By Delilah refusing to marry the arranged man, she was defying centuries of tradition.
Delilah was the only daughter of five children, and the next to take the family title. It was also imperative that Delilah married into a well respected family, so that the sons would not challenge her position.
"It's that man," Delilah's mother spat finally. "Butler, is it?"
"Yes."
The older Lefleur woman cackled hysterically. "How long do you expect for him to wait on you?" she sniggered through guffaws. "He's assigned to the next heir of the Fowls. He will abandon you in a few years. Not only will you cause calamity upon yourself, but you will destroy the entire Lefleur family."
There was another pause as the younger woman was struck by the comment. A crack echoed through the silence as another fan was snapped open. "I would rather have true love for one day, than to suffer an eternity to satisfy archaic tradition," Delilah announced defiantly.
Delilah sat on the edge of bed, watching the manservant. Her eyes trailed him and analyzed each movement. It had been about three years since they first met, and Delilah had mastered the ability to read Butler's movements. The Lefluers were not as notorious as the Fowls, but they were still identified amongst the top five.
Delilah was concerned with the way his shoulders stooped forward, his mouth pulled in a hard line, his legs tightly crossed. He tapped anxiously on the desktop, his mind committing the architecture of the Fowl Manor to memory.
"It is time, isn't it?" she asked solemnly.
Butler stopped his nervous tapping and looked up at his lover. "Yes. I leave tomorrow morning."
His lover beckoned him over to her. With a sigh, Butler stood up and walked over. He stood between her legs, and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. Delilah wrapped her arms around his waist, laid her head upon his chest, and pulled him close.
"Promise me you'll never forget me."
"How could I forget you? I would assume it to be the other way, especially since you will surrounded by the richest gentlemen from all around the world."
"But none will be Domovoi Butler."
"And there will never be another Delilah Lefleur."
Butler looked down into her dark green speckled with light blue eyes. He gently kissed her on the crown of her head. That was followed by a kiss on her nose. Another kiss was placed on her cheek. And another one on the other cheek. Finally, Butler placed his lips upon hers.
Delilah smiled under Butler's lips and kissed back. She pulled him down onto the bed with her. Laughing lightly, Butler let her.
Butler made no sound as he struggled to crawl out of Delilah's bed. His heart pulled at him, telling him to go back to sleep in the arms of the only woman he would ever love. Years of training arose and subdued the pain, but it never fully left. With effort, he showered and dressed himself.
Before leaving, Butler did a final check of his appearance. Everything had to be perfect or he would never survive the shame from mismanaging the first day on the job. He checked his weapons, then his exterior once more. The mirror of the bathroom reflected the sadness etched on his face. Butler looked out into the bedroom, to Delilah, who was still sleeping peacefully.
She had curled up into a ball on her side. Butler walked over and pushed her hair behind her ear. He gently stroked the soft skin of her cheek. After a few minutes, he leaned down and kissed her. "I love you, Delilah Lefleur. I promise I will come back for you," he whispered.
Just as the morning's sunlight crept into the room, Butler, Delilah's exclusive sun, disappeared.
To be continued…