And He Thought, Be All My Sins Remembered
"To be, or not to be."
Artemis let his feet dangle from the window of his bedroom, perched precariously on the thin ledge boundary between the light and blue-black darkness. The cool night breeze picked up and took his hair with it so that a black fan of thin locks lifted from his eyes. They were a dull blue.
"That is the question," he hummed. He despised how popular that particular part of Shakespeare's work had become over the centuries because it had always been his favourite scene. Hamlet was questioning existence itself, and unlike how so many overpaid, overrated actors had portrayed the scene with morbid cries and despair, Hamlet was calm. "Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune," he continued, tipping himself back into the warmth of Fowl Manor, "or to take arms against a sea of troubles. And by opposing – end them." He swayed forwards and came dangerously close to leaning too far out. No, Hamlet was not facing the despairs of no longer wanting to be alive through the torment and heartache he had suffered – he was rationally considering death as an opportunity. Life was by no means the exciting, happy rollercoaster the films always showed. The highs in life were pretty mediocre – a good laugh, once every few days. A sight not encountered before. An embrace with a friend. All ended swiftly, with the approach of betrayal, pain and loss never far round the next corner. Death was an opportunity, to Hamlet, a way out.
"For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, to grunt and sweat under a weary life, but that the dread of something after death …" he closed his eyes and felt the air pick up again, making his bare feet wriggle. "Puzzles the will, and makes us rather bear those ills we have than fly to others we know not of."
"Artemis," Butler's hesitant voice cut through his monologue. He spoke calmly, but, knowing the bodyguard well, Artemis could sense the lace of tension to his words. Artemis swung his legs back inside and smiled lightly at his manservant.
"It's a nice night," he said, landing silently on the carpet like a cat. "The air is cool, and there's a soft breeze bringing fresh air."
"Not sure on the new hobby, Artemis. You know, leaning out of windows." As Artemis returned to his desk and flicked the lamp back on, Butler casually closed the window. It put him (slightly) at ease. "Is, uh, everything alright, Artemis?" The young man looked up, knowing an innocent expression was beyond his emotional range and so instead opted for a gentle smirk – much more in character.
"I just wanted to take a short respite between this essay and the next one I have to do, that's all."
"It's late, you should get some rest." Butler tried to insist, but he knew if he pushed too hard, Artemis would somehow manage to shrug him off and change the subject.
"I'm on a roll, old friend. I found quite a few references that will be useful to this particular paper. I'm finding the trouble with University is, apparently, my own knowledge is completely irrelevant. Instead, I need the exact name and book reference for every fact I state. It would be easier to write the entire research paper I want under one of my pseudonym names, and then reference myself. I'm seriously considering it."
"Rest time, I think. Give that big old brain a break."
"Later, Butler. It'd be a waste of perfectly good time to take to bed now."
"You'll thank me tomorrow when you're not dozing off in one of your lectures again," Butler commented and noticed the slight frown that appeared on his young charge's face. Artemis began flicking through one of the open textbooks on his desk.
"There's a difference between dozing off and not listening in the first place. The man was quoting practically all of the Leviathan. I might as well have read it myself at home." He paused, then corrected himself. "Re-read. And that class wasn't essential to my degree. Realism theories of global political affairs sounded like it would be much more intriguing than it turned out. The lecturer said nothing novel."
"Have you made any friends at university yet?" Artemis didn't answer but Butler spotted how his lips tightened. "I take it that's a 'no'."
"Plenty of people talk to me, if you're worried." The boy's tone was clipped and terse.
"Well I suppose that's a start," Butler chuckled, "At least you're not totally unapproachable."
"They have warped intentions, Butler. They know who I am, they know my father, they particularly know how much gold sits in my bank account." Well, they might have an inkling.
"A lot of them will be thinking about that, yes." Butler nodded, trying to tackle this subject carefully. Artemis and his 'friends' were a touchy subject. "But if you turn them all away, you'll turn away the ones with good intentions, too."
"Hmm." Artemis replied without conviction. "Butler, if you're going to insist on staying up with me then would you mind making some coffee?" It was Butler's turn to frown. "And could you open the window? It's stuffy in here."
Butler was about to remind Artemis that they'd long since installed air conditioning into every major room in the Fowl manor, until he remembered that Artemis had put them in himself. The huge man wasn't the type of person that sighed often, but he made sure to heave his breath in resignation before he left the room.
As the door handle clicked back into place, Artemis let the book settle in his lap and turned his gaze to the window once more – the window Butler had left closed. Most likely on purpose, Butler didn't 'forget' simple details like that. Artemis could still see the shadow of an oak tree in the grounds surrounding the manor and the horizon sparkled with the yellowed lights of a distant town. A similar tiny light began to spark on the faery communicator on his desk.
"Be all my sins remembered." He mumbled.
When Butler returned with a steaming coffee, he found Artemis slumped in his chair, textbook slowly falling from his lap. The scene instinctively gave Butler a fright - too much time spent living on the edge - but after a pause, a smile lifted one side of his face. He set the cup down, rescued the textbook, saved the work on the laptop and then turned off all the devices on the desk till all the electronic whining slowly whirred out of existence.
"It's not possible," Artemis hummed, startling the big man leaning over him. He nearly knocked over the coffee cup. "Not today."
"Artemis," Butler called, gently tapping his shoulder. "Artemis, let's get you to bed." Butler heard the door click and felt the presence of someone behind them, watching. He glanced back to see Artemis Fowl Senior resting on the doorframe.
"Fast asleep," Artemis the elder chuckled, "sleeping like only a teenager can. Let me help you." He stood on the other side of young Artemis and between them, they gently shuffled the limp frame from the office chair onto the bed, bringing the duvet up to his chin. "Although, I suppose this is his last year as a teenager." The rustling around the young man made him stir quietly, but his eyes remained shut.
"He has been overworking himself."
"I've noticed. I can't really understand why. University should be easy for him. These research papers and essays he's doing, they're child's play. I've been trying to figure out what's making him look so exhausted for a couple of weeks now." A trademark Fowl smirk lifted the man's cheeks. "Maybe it's a woman."
Butler wished it were that simple. His expression must have said as much because the elder Fowl laid a hand on Butler's shoulder. "The bags under your eyes get heavier every day. Look after yourself, old friend, and don't worry too much."
Butler smiled broadly, "It's my job to worry." Artemis Fowl Senior laughed, only to stifle it with a hand over his mouth when his son rolled over. Instead of deigning the butler with an answer, the elder Artemis simply winked, leaving the door ajar as he left.
Butler trod quietly after him, giving his charge one last frown before he flicked the lights off.
Once the footsteps faded into nothing, Artemis' eyes opened. He pulled the heavy sheets away from his legs and began to undress. Once he stood in only his underwear, the window called him over again. He cracked it open, leaning out into the cold night.
I always thought I had a purpose. I was going to make father proud. I was going to raise the Fowl empire from its ashes. I was going to be the head of the Fowl household. I don't want any of that any longer – gold doesn't matter. But I don't know what does. All this thinking I do … it has only ever torn things apart. Over on his desk, the only light still blinking was his faery communicator. He picked it up and ran the gold ring down his finger until the yellow blinking flickered green. With a tap, Holly's recorded voice began to echo in his empty room.
"Hey there, mudboy. You been too busy to call recently? The student life must be hard, eh? All that hard work you've got to do." She chuckled, the sound tinny from the tiny device, but pleasant. "I'm doing fine, since you haven't asked. And I have a couple of days off now so I'll be paying you a visit. Make sure you're not out partying! I don't want to waste a good visa. Anyway. I guess I'll see you soon. Bye!"
Butler always made sure he was the first person awake in the Fowl household. He'd usually have completed his rounds, done half an hour in the gym, showered, and cleaned the parts to his pistol, all before Artemis awoke. Today was different. Today was unusual, like many of the previous days had been. Upon his rounds, which was always his first task, he found that Artemis' car had already gone. Immediately, Butler abandoned his rounds and checked the house for his charge. He saw that Artemis' car wasn't the only thing to have vanished: his bag, his laptop, and all the textbooks that had been strewn across his desk the night before had also gone. Looked like the young master had set off particularly early today. Butler recalled the timetable of Artemis' lectures that he had memorised … Very early, he grimaced. He didn't have a lecture until past noon. Maybe Artemis shouldn't have gone to university – it was undoubtedly tiresome for one of the brightest minds on the planet to have to listen to hours-worth of whacks spouting theories and articles, most of which had been written by the young man years ago. Not only that, but he was surrounded by adolescents: something Artemis really should be familiar with, but he wasn't. Butler's charge spent the majority of his youth debating with and commanding adults. His two best friends were more than twice his age, Holly more than four times. For a room full of curious teenagers, privileged middle-class young adults and even knowing lecturers, Artemis was the centre of their interests. The teenagers read his name splattered in online news articles, the university publications and heard of him through word-of-mouth: a young genius, possibly also involved with the mafia and criminal affairs, a rich boy, a cold, unapproachable vampire. Most of the wealthier families in the area knew of the Fowl estate and history. Either they were an ally to the house, or they had been crushed by the Fowl empire. Either way, the parents of middle-class children had told them to watch out for him. The lecturers themselves gave Artemis curious glances. He was the talk of the staff rooms, his work passed around like a chewing gum packet in a classroom; some even copied sections of it for their own use. Artemis couldn't exist anywhere with the whispers of others following his footprints. A couple of less intelligent students had tried to heckle and cajole him once. Only once.
All this Butler knew was preying on Artemis' mind. Perhaps, years ago, it wouldn't have bothered him at all. Before he had met the faeries, Artemis had full control of his emotions. He could be completely void of empathy whenever he chose. He had a youthful arrogance that meant he paid no mind to the watchful eyes of others. He could be manipulative to get his way; he could cut others down with scathing remarks and feel no guilt for it. The Artemis of today was without a doubt, a better person. But better did not mean happier. In fact, Butler hadn't seen his charge smile for weeks – not genuinely. The old Artemis used to beam every time he checked his accounts. The manservant pondered mentioning this to Holly when he next saw her. The problem, he knew, was that Artemis had no friends his age. He didn't really have anybody to talk to. Artemis respected his father too much to ever show him weakness, and he felt protective enough of his mother to never want to worry her. Butler worried practically every minute of every day, which he suspected had made Artemis feel guilty, and as a result, he gradually started hiding things from him. Holly was a thousand miles away, Foaly couldn't be trusted with anything remotely sensitive and Mulch … was Mulch.
None of Artemis' close friends were doing any good for the boy. He needed an escape outside of Fowl manor. Butler wasn't sure any female could handle Artemis Fowl II and yet he dearly hoped one could. There was nothing like young love to melt a cold heart.
A clack of hard heels sounded on the rosewood staircase. Butler closed the security box by the door that he had been tampering with and looked up. Artemis Fowl Senior glided down the steps, dressed in a traditional black suit except the stitching of the top blazer pocket was gold. A simple, yet elegant touch.
"Where's our little Arty?" he beamed, checking the wind-up skeleton watch on his wrist for the time.
"He headed out early today."
"I didn't think he had class until after lunch?" Artemis frowned.
"He doesn't." Butler tried to keep the glumness from his voice.
"Ha, it must be," Artemis reached the end of the staircase and rustled for an umbrella on the bronze plated coat rack, decorated either end with lion heads. "A female."
"Tell him to bring her home!" Angeline's voice giggled from upstairs and she appeared still in her nightwear. "What time will you be back, dear?"
"The meeting begins at 10:30." He then grimaced. "I hope to be back before three but … gah, Mr Heartman does like to chatter."
"Take an umbrella, it's forecast to rain." Artemis raised the object in his hand, waving it back at her. "If you finish a bit later, maybe you could meet with Arty at his university and grab something to eat?"
"Good idea, love." Butler opened the door for the head of the household and Artemis gave him a courteous nod.
"Do you mind if I come with you into Dublin, sir?"
"If you're planning to check in with Arty then I'd rather you stay here!" Although he smiled, Artemis' tone was an order. "The young lad is fine on his own. Let him live his university days to the full."
"… Yes … sir." Butler grimaced deeply and stared at the floor. A year ago, he would have said the same to himself. When Artemis started university at 18, he had been all about giving him freedom and independence (from an empty apartment room he'd found across from the lecture halls, armed with various surveillance technology … just in case). Little over 400 days later and he was all about locking the young boy in Fowl manor and smothering him in bullet-proof bubble wrap, just to be sure. Still, he was aware that the threat to Artemis was not external, and definitely not something he could pick off with sniper fire. The irony was that the threat came from Artemis himself, moreover something Butler couldn't figure out: boredom? Now that all their 'world-saving' escapades had ended (hopefully), was Artemis simply bored? Or, was it loneliness? Was the ex-teenage criminal mastermind finding it hard to fit in?
Else, something deeper?