Did ever a dragon keep so fair a cave?

Artemis felt his eyelids droop dangerously and shook his head to stay alert. He took his car off cruise control; if he had to manually operate the car, maybe he'd wake up a little more. The radio was switched over to a brighter music channel, and he rolled the aircon down a few degrees. It didn't really help. His tiredness felt more like a mental drain from the events of the day than it did physical exhaustion. Gone were the days where he could battle trolls, evil pixies and even time without so much as a headache. Nowadays, just making it to the end of a lecture was exhausting. Meeting Holly was hardly on the top of his favourite things to do right now, as much as he loved her to pieces, he couldn't keep up with her banter today. She was so adept at reading him, she'd start to worry pretty quickly. And he couldn't keep on the mask.

He distracted himself with the miles of Irish countryside bobbing past his window. There were barely any other cars on the motorway, just the sights of endless rolling green in the horizon to look at. It was no wonder the faeries were in touch with the Irish people; this was the most magical place Artemis had ever observed. He never grew tired of it and the charm of Ireland only became more spectacular each time he discovered a new country. He'd find himself comparing the sights and smells around him to the beauty of home, and nothing did quite compare. He especially loved the Irish coastline, still wild and raging. A beauty caused by the aggression of its environment; a rock battered into a diamond. Towering high cliffs and beaches strewn with sharp rocks, crashing sea fronts and seaweed laid over every inch of space. He felt like the Irish coastline was the closest he could often get to a space not taunted by mankind.

Holly and Artemis had decided to meet at one of the Fowl properties near to Tara. His parents still were not aware of the presence of a whole underground species and the connection with their prodigious son. It would be much more peaceful for Holly to enjoy her short over-ground VISA where the only human for several miles was her previous kidnapper and now best-friend (talk about Stockholm syndrome). Finally, the exit arrived, and Artemis took the turn off, the stark contrast of country roads to the motorway taking over the remainder of the route. He wound down the one-way tracks lined with high trees and bushes that concealed the Fowl estate from the outside world. This was one of their smaller properties, but it still had a couple of football pitches' worth of land encircling it (and the remains of an old abbey at the bottom of the garden). This house had previously been rented out, but the last tenant had moved a couple of years ago and Angeline Fowl liked the property for her philanthropy meetings. It was a quaint mansion, if there was such a thing. The rooms were mostly small, ornated with wooden carvings on the doorways, beautiful China plates and cups filled the cupboards and every bed had four posts and a billowing curtain. It was as Fowl Manor used to be, before technology and Artemis' creations had begun to swap the fireplaces for central heating, replace the wooden doors with reinforced steel (decorated to look like wood) and before even some of the servants corridors had been opened up into storage rooms.

The gates recognised his number plate and Artemis accepted the incoming phone-call that worked as a triple security barrier. "Good evening, Abbey House," he said and the lights on the gate flashed green as the AI recognised his voice and the heavy iron gates slid back. He had barely applied the handbrake on arrival when he spotted the slight shimmer by the passenger door. He cast a smile Holly's way.

"Evening Holly," he spoke gently, placing his thumb on the door panel. The fingerprint scanner was a rouse and the actual recognition programme was the eye level iris scanner, but that required pressure on the pad to initiate. There was an unnecessary amount of security on this estate; more of twelve-year-old Artemis' projects – the site hadn't gone completely untouched. Artemis spared a second to think, twelve-year-old Artemis appears to follow me everywhere these days. "Come on in."

Once he had closed the door, Holly fizzled into the visible spectrum.

"You look more vampiric than normal," she commented immediately; she hadn't even said 'hi' yet. Artemis caught sight of his reflection in the hallway mirror, his skin almost grey under his eyes, cheeks a porcelain white, brow heavy. He quickly looked away. Less than a couple of seconds had passed, and he had already been revealed.

"Another late night on the self-propelled hover craft." Artemis dismissed. "Are you hungry?"

"No, I already ate. Wasn't chancing some of your carcasses and animal fats tonight."

"I've mostly turned to a vegan diet nowadays. I am not fully convinced on the environmental benefits of locally produced meat farming compared to these vegan products which come from all over the world … but at least I agree with you that it is much easier to appreciate something that tastes good and has not come from the death of an animal."

"Good for you. Maybe one day you'll get rid of all the billions of products in your human markets that still test on animals."

"Maybe. One step at a time, unfortunately."

"So tell me," Holly said as she dropped down onto the rocking chair in the corner of the living room. It was cushioned like a sofa, and the faux-leather material enveloped her like a cocoon. Artemis had recently disposed of all leather furniture and clothing in all Fowl estates. He kept hold of some items he knew Holly would wrinkle her nose at, including the framed lion pelt in the attic which had an attached plaque, detailing the tale of Sir Hogan Hugh Artemis Fowl and his narrow escape from said lion in the Kenyan wilderness. He couldn't bring himself to part with it, and anyhow, the lion was already dead. Not much could be done to bring it back. "Why is it you were up all night on a hover craft, of which you already know the exact materials and dimensions to build since you have access to most of Foaly's private document drives?"

"Most of?" Artemis scoffed lightly but decided not to comment further.

"Whatever, you know what I mean."

"Would you like some herbal tea? I'm sure you're tired from the journey."

"You have that?" Holly's ears pricked up brightly. "Better not, I don't know what human water will do to me with all your processing."

"I'll make you one," Artemis got up and dusted down his trousers. "We have fresh Irish spring water here. I'm positive you'll like it. It might even do you some good, the water runs by Tara." He disappeared into the corridor to work his way through the maze that was Abbey House.

"Thanks, Arty!" She beamed, already feeling the buzz of content in her belly, partly from the magical epicentre of Tara being nearby, but mostly just through the feeling of being above ground. Then, she cursed. "He distracted me. That mudboy is manipulative even when he doesn't mean to be."

As soon as Artemis reached the kitchen, he took a second to rest his head against the closed door. If he was being honest with himself, he felt a bit ill. His stomach ached. His mouth felt dry. He breathed deeply, trying to use some mindfulness techniques to forget the gentle ache in his body. More than anything, he just wanted to rest. He'd probably not return to Fowl manor tonight and instead take to bed in one of the many bedrooms in Abbey House. They'd be slightly chilly since he'd not had the fire on but at least the sheets were thick.

He returned with a crystal-clear teapot and two beige, Chinese-style cups. Inside the teapot, a bud broke free from the lashing holding it closed, blooming into a stunning yellow flower. Holly took a moment to appreciate the smell of the herbal tea, and Artemis took a moment to appreciate his friend's look of pure content.

"Go on then, mudboy, tell me about this hovercraft."

"Ah, well, really, it's only the usual stuff. Just a little hobby, that's all." Artemis waved his hand and took a sip of tea. Holly could spot a lie like this a mile off. Honestly, all the years they'd spent together, and he didn't yet realise that she could see through everything now. Any project that Artemis truly cared about, enough to keep him up at night, was a project he wouldn't dismiss a chance to talk about. If there was one thing Artemis Fowl liked to do, Holly knew, it was talk about his own genius. That included all his inventions and projects. She decided to go along with the lie.

"Oh really? What does it do? Is it self-sufficient? Does it run off solar panels?"

"Solar panels are too heavy at the moment."

"Is it turbine powered, then?"

"Again, the generator alone would weigh it down."

"Then come on, Arty. What's so special about this hovercraft?" She allowed a smirk to tug her lips as she pressed harder on the topic, which slipped when she caught Artemis frown – which in itself was not so unusual, except it appeared he wasn't irritated but pained.

"What's wrong?" She said, immediately. Artemis sighed.

"If I'm honest with you, Holly, I don't feel very well tonight. I didn't want to waste your time on the surface, but I really do not feel good." He wasn't lying, she thought, but he also wasn't telling the whole truth.

"Have you had any … Atlantis symptoms come back?" Artemis' expression faltered and his scowl returned. Holly had only asked because it didn't look like Artemis was ill; it looked like he was mentally exhausted.

"Really, Holly. Do we have to bring that up?" He snapped, which was most unlike him these days.

"S-sorry," She stuttered, a little shocked. "You just do not look well at all." Now that he wasn't smiling, his face looked worse – his body was tense, shoulders tight, fingers bent sharply at the knuckles. He drummed his fingers for a second, then stopped. A moment later, with one deep breath, the lines on his face eased.

"No, I'm sorry. I'm under a little stress at the minute."

"You're speaking so formally, Arty." She got up and walked over to his chair, taking perch on the arm and folding her legs underneath her. "You can talk to me, you know. We're friends."

"I know, I know. I- …" He sighed again; at least he seemed more relaxed now. "I really don't know what to do with myself, lately. I tell myself it's nothing – we've battled trolls for heaven's sake. Why can't I deal with a stupid, human institution that pretty much every normal person goes through as well."

"You can't be struggling with the work?"

"No, not with the work. Although it's tedious beyond belief. Yesterday, the lecturer used my essay as the structure for his entire lesson. We spent all of an hour looking at the same sources, some of which I wrote by the way, and dissecting my arguments. What am I supposed to learn from that? And because of it, the entire time people were glaring daggers into my back."

"Nothing, I guess. But university isn't all about the learning. It's about the culture, too. Have you joined any clubs?"

"Absolutely not." He scoffed, pushing his fingers into his hair and grasping slightly. "What should I join? The netball club? The politics society? Spare me the pain, Holly."

"Why the pain?"

"Everyone there knows who I am. They know I'm Artemis Fowl. They either think of me as a criminal, as a snob, as a wallet to be picked or a nerd that will do their homework if they have big enough biceps to threaten me."

"Arty, are you sure you're not paranoid?" Holly coaxed, gently. Another veiled reference to his mental health and he clicked his tongue to show that it was not appreciated.

"I'm sure you're the same. Could you just go out to the local shopping centre and expect people not to stare and comment?" Absolutely not. The crazy-girly Captain. She was known for one thing or another: the fairy that was kidnapped by a human, the fairy that had took on a troll, the fairy that had killed Commander Root … Take your pick. Holly tried to understand why this bothered Artemis, though, when it never did more than irritate herself. He wasn't the type to care what others thought of him, especially not 'normal folk'. Was he?

Then she put herself in Artemis' shoes. She put herself back into the seat of her Police Academy classroom, not in the past, but now. If she went back now, would she be able to enjoy it half as much? If everywhere she went, someone was trying to get something from her or was whispering … She definitely wouldn't enjoy it. And with Artemis' post Atlantis recovery not too long ago, that would certainly add to his stress levels. And then maybe add in the fact that Artemis' parents were rarely home, always out on their mad excursions across the world. And the fact that he was constantly lying to them. And the shadow of Butler, his old friend who, these days, only appeared older. Their escapades had most certainly caught up with him. He often found it difficult to breathe and had resorted to losing some bulk to make the job of shifting his huge mass a little easier on his lungs. Then, there was the fact that his only other friends were underground. Artemis had many stressors in his life and did very little to relieve them. In fact, he was such a keen and motivated person, Holly had realised of late, that he was rarely idle. He had plenty of projects on the go, always had a book half-completed on his bedside table. When did he rest?

She thought hard, and yet the only thought pulsing at the forefront of her mind was, this is Artemis Fowl. He doesn't get stressed. Normal people are stressed. How could Artemis Fowl, the prodigious genius who'd saved the world more times than he'd kept count, get stressed over minor details like some 'University bitching'.

During her thinking time, Artemis had closed his eyes, the frown on his face slowly edging away. She imagined he was using some sort of mental technique to push his stress aside and regain his composure. As he probably always did.

"Arty," she spoke softly, as though speaking with a small child. "I think you need to slow down. Stop the projects, stop the hover crafts … stop writing all these essays and focus on yourself for a while."

"You sound like my father," he said, and that didn't appear to be a good thing. "I'm sorry to have brought all this on you, it's supposed to be your day off."

"You're never a burden, Arty. I don't know if you think that way, but you have every right to get down sometimes. And every right to feel stressed."

She patted his head gently and watched Artemis Fowl Junior drift off into a deep sleep. She may have laced her fingertips with magic; he didn't need to know that. She hoped he wouldn't remember when he woke up, but she wasn't naïve enough to think Artemis wouldn't put 5 and 7 together to get 321.

Once he was out for the count, Holly tiptoed into another room and made a phone call to Butler. As Artemis' two protectors, there was a long chat to be had.

When he awoke later, back in slight pain from sleeping in the armchair, listening to the house whispering softly in the night, he realised he was alone, and that Holly must have left some time ago. Always the polite guest, she'd tidied away the teapot and laid a blanket over her snoozing friend. Guilt sat low in his gut. She'd come all this way and wasted a VISA, only to baby-sit her mudman friend that lately had been riddled with mental health issues. When they had only just celebrated him getting over the Atlantis Complex, now he was suffering from something far less 'grandiose'. Suffering as a teenage criminal mastermind from another species' magical condition was something to tell your doctor about. Boredom, stress, anxiety – whatever the hell was going on with him – it wasn't anything to write home for. He was just a regular young adult with regular adult problems; it wasn't a word he'd ever used on himself.

He was starting to think that maybe he had a touch of narcissism. Most geniuses tended to have a hint of it; when he'd met his younger self, it was the first thing that sprang to mind. Why else would he be so wrapped up in his own problems? It had to stem from some sort of self-obsession, an unhealthy one at that. Because of this thought, he'd begun to avoid looking in the mirror, and the daffodils outside the front of Fowl Manor haunted him every time he drove past. Then again, perhaps he was over-thinking. Butler had always said that over-thinking was both his boon and his bane. Well, he certainly hadn't used those exact words, but Artemis had translated it as such.

"Having a brain like yours is like having a Glock in your back pocket. It becomes so easy to take it out all the time, you become over-confident with it and can focus on nothing else. Years later, you've got significant hearing loss and you've pulled the trigger one too many times. You forget any of the other weapons you have in your arsenal."

"Thanks for the extended metaphor, Butler."

The sentiment still stood. Artemis could pick holes in Butler's metaphor all day. He could find so many faults that eventually he realised the crass attempt at explaining his over-thinking had indeed pointed out the fact that he did overthink, when overthinking was completely unnecessary. Like Butler had tried to explain, Artemis hadn't needed to put so much effort into dissecting it. He could have left the Glock alone.

Artemis shook his head wearily. He was still thinking about that stupid Glock reference. Every time he thought about it, he was only adding to its truth.

"I will stop overthinking," he decided. He blinked. "And then, what?"

His phone rang gently in his pocket and Artemis was pleasantly surprised to see that it was only 11pm. He could get some work done on his laptop tonight and still be able to rest, setting off for University in the morning.

"Butler," he greeted, standing to straighten out his crumpled suit.

"Artemis, are you planning on coming home tonight?"

"Sorry, old friend," he squinted his eyes in the dark room, searching for his car keys. He spotted them on the side table. "Not tonight."

"How's Holly?"

"She's, uh, well," He stuttered, completely unlike himself, heading for the door to grab his laptop from the boot of the car. "It's a shame you didn't come with me to see her. She misses you too, you know."

Butler chuckled fondly, the sound like rumbling thunder. "Aye she might, but it's nice for you to get some alone time with female company."

Artemis almost headbutted the boot of the Jaguar as he lent forward. He spluttered down the phone. "I hope you're not insinuating that I have any feelings for Captain Short?!"

"No, Artemis," He could tell his old friend was smiling. "I'm just saying you don't socialise often enough. And those videos you and Foaly send each other of your computer systems do not count."

"I'm getting fed up of being patronised, Butler." Artemis sighed and the moment's silence on the other end confirmed the slight culpability his friend was now mulling over. "Just understand that I'm getting this from all sides now! It used to only be mother rebuking me for not obliging to social norms. Now I get it from father and yourself, too! And I'll bet if the twins weren't at boarding school, Myles would be calling me a simpleton as well!"

"Okay, okay, Artemis," Butler said. He was tiring of this never-ending argument, as well. "I have been speaking to your father-," Artemis rolled his eyes knowing that whatever was coming was not going to be good. "And he wants you to actively look for things that make you happy."

"I feel like a twelve-year-old child, with a father trying to get me into football and a mother showing me dolls in a benign attempt to make me into a good person. Except," he added, "when I was twelve, none of this was happening. Father was proud of me." He almost scoffed.

"Your father is proud of you, Artemis. And so am I, if you don't mind me saying." The thought did touch him. All the same, they were having this argument once more. And he was completely, utterly exhausted of it. He felt his headache returning.

"I'm tired of all this, Butler." He sighed and hung up.

He knew that hanging up on Butler would come back to bite him later. It was a childish thing to do, he knew, and yet he just didn't have the energy to keep debating this back and forth.

"Do what makes you happy."

I'm trying. He gritted his teeth and paused for a second at the front door, laptop in hand. I just can't.

AN –

Longer chapter than usual but that's just how it turned out!