Chapter Text
Chapter 15: I never should have let them dance
February 14, 2014-Haven Convention Center
When imagining a dance held by the People, it is important to remember two things:
1) They love music and dancing just as much (and for elves, more so) than humans.
2) They live a long, long time.
Music played constantly at the February 14th Birthday Ball (apparently calling such an event a "Valentine's Day Dance" did not sit well with the host), but the theme was constantly changing. The latest pop song was followed by a centuries-old waltz. Polka played alongside mambos. Gnomish mixed with English, French, Japanese, Afrikaans, and every other language living and dead (and often many during the same song).
The attire was no less varied. Women in tulle ball gowns danced with men in Elizabethan doublets and jerkins. Older LEP officials in suits that still bore ancient ruffled collars twirled about women in kimonos. In all, it was a thoroughly schizophrenic affair.
Artemis was highly impressed. "It's like a cultural anthropologist's dreams," he said to Foaly, looking on as a gnome in a 1920's suit dipped a sprite wearing a grass skirt. "I would love to study this."
Foaly gave the human's shoulder a firm shake to break his concentration. "There will be no scholarly investigation tonight, Artemis. You remember the rules."
Holding his hands behind his black cotton suit (he preferred silk for such an occasion, but had his doubts on whether the People would look at him like an uncivilized dolphin-killer for wearing a fabric made from hundreds of dead insect cocoons), looking remarkably like an upperclassman reciting his lessons. "No takeovers of the Lower Elements, hostile or otherwise. No handling the alcohol, or else someone is bound to get exiled. No making any of the guests nervous, even if they incite my ire." He looked about for a moment, frowning. "Do you seriously think I'll be accomplishing that last one?" Despite the crowded nature of the entrance hall, a circle of empty space about three meters in radius surrounded them.
"Do your best." Seeing Artemis's developing downcast expression, he patted the man's back. "You'll be fine. All the usual suspects are here for Holly, as well as most of the higher ups. You can make small talk!"
"Small talk is not one of my most developed skills."
"Well, if you could lay off the condescension..." When the man did not move, Foaly gave him a little push. "I'm not your babysitter tonight, Fowl. Go. Schmooze. Find Holly. Er...if you can."
Artemis spun about to ask Foaly what he meant, but the centaur was wading through the crowd towards his elegant wife. 'Wonderful. Alone already. I really need to talk to the Council about letting Butler back down here.'
It wasn't that Artemis had never been to official functions and balls before. In fact, they were a regular occurrence for the Fowl household, and he could only escape so many of them before his mother blackmailed her son into attendance ("I will not be attending this party, Mother!" "Very well. Oh, by the way, do you think Minerva and Holly would enjoy that picture of you bathing when you had chicken pox at four? Goodness, the water must have been socold that day." "...which shirt should I wear to match the theme, Mum?"). No, the issue was that he had never attended such a function alone. Either he came alongside his parents or the gracious Minerva Paradizo flew in to accompany him (the society tabloids loved this). Then there was always Butler and a fair number of business partners to converse with. Surrounded by a conspicuous lack of hangers-on, Artemis began to feel quite exposed. 'What do normal people do at a party when they're alone? Think! Bah, this is why Juliet always wanted me to watch those infantile prom movies, isn't it? Food! I go to the food table, and...'
He gagged a bit. 'Yes...fairy food. I'll work that out once I get to the dining area, then.' Steeling himself against a potential regurgitation on sight of some sort of cockroach-based hors d'oeuvre, he began walking to the back of the enormous convention center.
He had seen the hall in an unadorned state, and it had been an impressive sight even then. Tucked into a corner of Haven, it took advantage of the natural stalactites for decoration, with well-hidden lighting set up to highlight the nearly clear crystals. The floor had been mostly cleared of stalagmites, except for a few complete pillars that formed the edge of the ballroom area. Now long strings full of gold and silver beads traversed between the columns, which, when combined with the earthy tones of the cavern, gave the room a somewhat Gothic feel.
Perhaps this architecture should have comforted him, noting his residence in Fowl Manor, but Artemis soon found himself glancing up quite often, suspicious of the hanging rocks. 'How did they get the bead-work to stay? Surely that compromised the integrity of the—'
"Oy! Mud Man!"
Artemis perked up instantly. "Mulch!"
The dwarf was standing with Doodah Day and an elf who appeared to be in his early adulthood, all directly next to the largest of the food tables. A significant dent had been placed in the plates and Doodah was giving Mulch's backside a speculative look. Both were dressed in brown and black pinstripe suits, though Mulch's now had an interesting yellow smudge as an unplanned decoration. Mustard, perhaps. Hopefully.
"You two look rather...legitimate." Artemis commented, not entirely sure if he approved.
Doodah sniffed, offended. He had never warmed to the human, and not entirely because they spent so little time in each other's company. "I'll have you know I am entirely legitimate. No illegal activities for nearly a decade."
"Ah...I know the feeling." Artemis rested his thumbs in his pockets, leaning back as if he was an old man reminiscing on the past. "It's killing you, isn't it?"
"You have no idea." Doodah deadpanned. "Do you know what the speed limit in Haven is? 120 kilometers per hour. How am I supposed to get anywhere on time at a speed like that?"
"Leave earlier?" Mulch suggested.
"Oh, yes, with all my free time. Work me like a slave, and for what? I'm not even a full partner, yet."
Mulch growled, displaying teeth filled with what Artemis was fairly certain were ant thoraxes. "I do not work you 'like a slave,' because slaves clean the toiletevery so often."
"What? That hazardous material dump site? I've told you, I'm not cleaning that for less than a 300% increase in my salary."
"Wimp. Can't handle a little sh—"
"So!" Artemis yelled, attracting the attention of most of the people gathering food. The unnamed elf was giving him a thankful look. "Where's everyone else? Vinyáya, Trouble, Holly, Chix, Grub, the Councilmen?"
Grinning, Mulch punched Artemis's arm, numbing it a bit. "Haha, Mud Boy, trying to be smooth? Sneaking her in the middle like that. Very clever, but..." He tapped the side of his nose, grinning.
Artemis suspected that "The Nose Knows" was not the best gesture for Mulch to use, but he didn't dare bring it up. "Yes...quite. Then if you'd answer my question?"
Mulch grabbed Artemis's non-dead arm, spinning him about and pointing towards the dance floor. "Well, there's four for you, right there."
What he saw was supposed to be impossible. Or at least it was according to his understanding of the world. Holly was exactly as he expected her: wearing a button-down, sleeveless green blouse and dark grey slacks (Holly in a dress was apparently a once-in-a-lifetime event, according to Caballine), but the elf she was partnered with...
"Is that...Grub?" His mind couldn't quite grasp the idea. Grub looked both elated and terrified, and he was actually moving Holly quite skillfully through a waltz. Trouble was nearby, partnered with a lithe strawberry-blond elf whom Artemis recalled as Lily Frond.
The elf who had been speaking with Mulch and Doodah before Artemis had arrived laughed lightly. His voice was smooth, but something in it unnerved the listeners. A slight echo, perhaps. "Oh, no worries, boy. I hear their relationship is entirely physical."
Rounding, eyes wide in utter horror at the idea, Artemis tried to ask an intelligent question. What came out was "Bwargh?"
The elf's laugh deepened at this response. "I forgot how easy it was to mess with you people. I should really spend more time on the surface." He smiled into his wine goblet and took a long drink, leaving Artemis to process the comment. Once it was apparent that the human had calmed down, the elf offered his free hand. "Holly's great-grandfather."
Realizing he was meeting his (rather malicious, it seemed to Artemis) host, the man schooled his posture and shook. "Artemis Fowl the Second. Your great-granddaughter and I have worked together a lot in previous years."
"Hmmm...Cupid."
Artemis flushed. He wasn't entirely sure what to make of this comment. If Mulch was any judge, all of Holly's friends were long aware of their awkward relationship status, but was this elf really suggesting that he'd been hit with an arrow? It seemed an odd thing to say about a descendant. "Pardon?"
"My name. It's 'Cupid.'" He closely watched his great-granddaughter as the waltz began to build towards a crescendo.
"Oh." The human pondered this, then nodded. "If you don't mind my saying, your parents must have had an interesting sense of humor. My grandparents certainly did."
Pursing his lips, the elf nodded. "Well, Venus was known for a wicked wit, and Mars was just plain twisted, so I suppose so."
Mulch elbowed Doodah. "Watch this. His brain is about to melt."
This wasn't a fair description. Artemis's brain had melted long ago. This revelation merely stirred it into a fine frappé. "You're...serious. You're a god." For the first time, he actually took in the other man's appearance and noted that he lacked the pointed ears of the People. His platinum blond hair was out of the normal elf shades, though not so uncommon that it had attracted his attention. The only feature that truly set him apart were his eyes: bi-colored irises, a hazel interior blending with a violet exterior.
The man (elf? god? It was hard to decide, as he seemed to blend many of their traits) nodded. "Yes." When Artemis edged away a bit, he shook his head, obviously annoyed. "Calm down, boy. I haven't had full powers in years. My matchmaking abilities are pretty much limited to manipulating sound systems to play special songs when I want something to happen." He looked rather bitter. "I'm the cosmic equivalent of a meddlesome DJ."
After glancing at Mulch and Doodah for assurance that this god was not particularly dangerous, Artemis sighed. "Well...at least that explains the date. I was beginning to think I was stuck in a story written by a hormonal teenage girl."
Cupid spoke into his wine glass, faintly amused. "Teenaged? Not for years."
"...what?"
"Oh, nothing. The wine talking."
Given his name, Artemis had spent a considerable amount of time as a child researching the Greco-Roman gods, but he had lost interest long before meeting the People. His old conclusion that the gods had merely been powerful and long-remembered religious leaders seemed to be thoroughly shattered. "If you'll pardon my curiosity, what, precisely, are you? Another species or...?"
Cupid looked to the ceiling, considering this. "I'm not sure 'species' is a good term. An 'idea' may be a better one, given all the interbreeding we can do. Yes, an 'idea' taken to flesh."
"So Holly is part-god, then."
Swirling his goblet, the immortal waved this off. "Technically, I suppose, but it really doesn't matter with fairies. The first generation get some added longevity, but past that nothing really happens. Now, Holly, however..." he motioned towards her with the glass, a paternal look on his face, "I like to think she got her aim from me. I'm...rather fond of her." He gave the human a speculative look.
"I—"
"Don't let Cupid fool you, Mud Man." Mulch rolled his eyes. "He's the last one who'll disapprove of your twisted inter-species relationship."
Shrugging and nodding, Cupid acknowledged this. "Marrying an elf pretty much disqualifies me, yes."
Drudging up his mythology, Artemis replied, "Psyche?"
A definite shudder passed along the elf's body. "Gods, don't mention her! Psyche was psycho. Ran about telling everyone that I visited her every night. She had her own little shrine to me, and not the normal kind. She made these tiny dolls from hair...then ate them."
Even Mulch looked disturbed. "Her...own hair, right?"
"I'd hoped, but..."
"Artemis!"
Artemis's demeanor instantly changed from disgust to elation. He spun just in time to catch Holly, who flew into his arms, doing a fair impression of a sprite. "Holly!" Her weight forced him to bend down, their noses touching briefly before he managed to straighten up, holding her hands. "You look...is that makeup?" He brushed a finger along one of her eyebrows, causing her to laugh and lean back.
"Caballine ambushed me."
Trouble sauntered up, Lily Frond at his side and a huge grin on his face (Grub having, apparently, gone off to hyperventilate in the bathroom). "I hear there was an attempt to get her in a dress, but a knife got involved somehow."
"Hmmm...yes, that sounds like Holly." Artemis said.
"Totally," Lily broke in, flipping her hand about, "I've been telling her for years that a good pink tinge to her eyelids would make the guys just fall over her, but would she listen? No. And a manicure? Forget it. 'It interferes with my targeting. Blah blah blah.' Can she even be called a woman?"
Holly scowled. "I can hear, you know."
Lily's smile was teasing, but not the cruel smirk of the malicious. Merely the expression of a friend taking someone down a notch. "Really? I've had my doubts, what with all of the tribunals."
Removing both hands from Artemis's, she pointed to her ears. "What do these look like to you?"
Looking like he'd been awaiting this opening for years, Trouble reached out and grabbed her long ears, shaking her head side-to-side slightly. "Handlebars, of course."
After a few seconds of shocked silence, Holly hit Trouble's chest. When he only began chuckling, she hit him again. Not satisfied with the next response, she proceeded to rain down blows on his head and torso until he backed off, calling for mercy. After a few more punches (for good measure), she stopped, turning her back on the male. Then she rubbed her temples as she noticed Artemis's reaction. "Congratulations, Trouble. You broke the Mud Man."
"Broken" wasn't entirely accurate. He looked like his brain had journeyed to a faraway and perfect land full of mismatched eyes looking up at him.
Cupid snapped his fingers in the man's face, bringing him back to reality. "That was inappropriate. Correct, Mr. Fowl?
"Oh, yes. Uncouth, Trouble. Shocking from a commander."
Seeing that his great-granddaughter was not at all satisfied with this response, Cupid did the best thing to comfort her that he could: he handed over his wine goblet, which she downed in one swig. Taking back the glass, he looked into it for a moment, then shrugged, a small smile emerging.
"You all," Holly pointed at the three men, "are not a good combination for me. I am getting out of here. Mulch? Are those rumors I've been hearing from the LEP dwarfettes true?"
Mulch ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it down ever so slightly. "Well, I hate to toot my own horn..."
Everyone looked horrified at this entirely fitting description of Mulch's favorite activity.
"Oh, can't I have a little fun?" The detective muttered.
A bit more used to her old partner than most in attendance, Holly grabbed his hand and began dragging him away. "Yes. On the dance floor."
"Women. Can't keep their hands off the Diggums." He followed the elf out, soon moving her into a surprisingly well-coordinated quick foxtrot.
Artemis looked on, his unease growing with their every step. "Are you...all that good?" He considered what he had seen a few minutes ago. Even Grub had been moving well, and the office worker was known for being about as coordinated as a drunken sailor.
Giving the human a pitying look, Cupid decided to explain. "Live for a good ninety years and see what kind of skills you'll pick up. Seriously, though, Mr. Fowl, you must know how to dance."
"Well...just a bit. It was never really important. What?" The last was directed to Trouble, who was rubbing his hands together slowly, standing taller than normal.
"Oh, don't mind me. I'm just enjoying being better than you."
Looking rather more like a petulant child than he had since he was five, Artemis crossed his arms and leaned against the food table, trying to ignore the knowledge that a bowl of grub casserole was directly behind him. "Seriously, Trouble, if this is your version of being diplomatic, I don't see how you managed to get this high in the LEP."
Lily jumped to his defense. "Oh, come, now! He's a fine officer. Second-best shot in the LEP, third-best pilot, and second-highest mission success rate. After Holly and Vinyáya, of course."
Trouble draped an arm around her shoulder, smiling lewdly. "If I'm second and third best at everything, how did I end up becoming Commander?"
She looked him in the eyes, then dropped her gaze decidedly downward, looking back up with a rather disapproving smile.
"Oh, come on!" He actually did look highly offended. "The 'Glass Ceiling' thing again? Couldn't you have said it was because I'm older than Holly? Or not involved with a Mud Man?"
"She's not involved with me." Artemis blurted reflexively. Technically it was true, but perhaps not entirely accurate.
Ears actually perking up a bit, Trouble regarded him. "Oh, really? Then you won't mind if I take her out for a spin?"
Not sure what version of "spin" Trouble was using, Artemis merely scowled.
Lily did, as well, escaping his arm and moving to stand beside Doodah, who considered her a moment before waggling his eyebrows. She edged away slightly, muttering about ruined reputations, killing loose-lipped fairies, and the gall of men.
When Holly and Mulch finally returned, they were both red-faced and panting. Holly gratefully accepted another goblet of wine, downing it in a few more mouthfuls than the last, but still far too quickly to enjoy it. She shook her head to clear it, then looked about, bright eyed. "I need a break."
A strong Latin drum and piano solo started up, soon accompanied by brass instruments. Trouble instantly perked up and darted forward, grabbing Holly's hand. "No, you need to dance with me."
She giggled, leaning away. "No, I need to sit down."
"Hoooolly." He said in a soft voice, grabbing her other hand and pushing them alternately. The female instinctively fell into step, twisting her hips slightly along with his rhythm. "You need to dance with me."
She hesitated, then stepped forward, laying an arm on his shoulder. "Oh, fine." Before anyone else could react to her sudden capitulation, the Commander swept her away from the group, holding her tight to his side.
If Trouble's waltz had been precise, then this swift mix of samba and swing was stunning. Holly was a good dancer, certainly, but her partner was a strong lead, sending her into tight spins and then crushing their bodies close. They took over the dance floor, clearing a huge space in the center, which they used to full advantage, moving from one end to the other in swift curves. His hands were one second locked with hers, and the next on her hips, guiding her into a shimmy that would have sent a dress floating high into the air.
Holly was laughing with each move, Trouble matching her exuberance with a wild grin. As the music left off a lengthy brass solo, he pulled her to his chest, their faces mere breaths apart. They stepped back and forth, advancing and retreating. Trouble dipped Holly low, her head tilting back to expose her neck, as if in surrender. Then the Commander looked over to Artemis, giving him a smirk and wink.
Artemis was not a hot-headed person. Despite the many years he had spent in life-or-death situations involving Koboi, Spiro, demons, and his own past self, he had never truly lost his temper. Yet the look Trouble gave him impaired his rational though. He looked to Cupid, remembering his earlier comment about manipulating music.
The god shook his head, looking far less concerned about Artemis's reaction than the rest of the group. "Hey, he chose that one himself."
Looking back, Artemis considered the matchup of these two elves. 'I was once fond of the term "chemistry." I suppose I forgot all about that "blowing up in my face" part. I can not let this go on.' He began to move forward, but was halted by a rather strong hand gripping the back of his jacket. He looked down at Mulch, eyes flashing dangerously.
Mulch let go, holding his hands up in defense. "Trust me on this, Artemis. Interrupting them will hurt your chances a lot more than a little rumba."
"I thought it was 'Roomba.'" Doodah muttered.
"It's a samba." Lily snapped, giving Artemis a comforting look. It did little to help the man, but had just enough effect to keep him from storming onto the dance floor.
The music swelled as the song neared it's conclusion. The dancing pair, who were now the only couple still on the floor, began to execute even more complicated maneuvers. With the last notes, Trouble sent Holly into a final, tight spin and threw her into a deep dip, her legs shooting into a split to keep her balance.
They remained that way for several seconds, breathing heavily, until the crowd began to cheer. Taking a few quick bows, they jogged back to the circle of friends, Holly covering her face with one hand to hid her embarrassment
Not bothering to look at the god, Lily held out her hand, requesting the wine cup.
Grinning, the god gave it and sat back to enjoy the show.
Her hips swinging in an exaggerated motion, Lily approached the couple. She looked at Holly, nodding in deference. "Major Short." She looked at Trouble, repeating the gesture. "Commander Kelp." Then she lashed out, drenching Trouble with the full goblet.
He looked at her in utter shock as she walked back to Cupid, handing over the goblet and disappearing into the crowd. "What did I do?"
Cupid stepped to the couple, refilling his goblet with a wineskin on his belt. He grinned as Trouble flinched back. "Oh, nothing out of the normal for you, Commander." He wrapped an arm around Holly's shoulder, drawing her away. "Come, Holly, you need a good rest and something to drink."
Alarmed, Artemis stepped forward, snatching the goblet from Cupid's hand. "She does not need another drink."
All of his companions looked at him in shock. Or, more particularly, at the wine goblet he held. He offered it back, but Cupid backed up. Even a god had to follow fairy rules when in Haven.
His crossness increasing, Artemis regarded the drink. "Ah, yes, Chi Lun. Well, if you can't drink with me or take the drink back from me, then I shall just have to solve this problem myself." Just as swiftly as Holly had before, he tilted his head back and downed the glass. He winced a bit at the slightly bitter vintage and inspected the cup. Only a slight film remained. "Is that acceptable?"
Nodding, Cupid reached out, taking the goblet back. He did not refill it, but instead continued to look at Artemis, this time with concern.
"Very well. If none of you mind, I believe it is time for Holly to be done."
"Noooooo." Holly whimpered, grabbing his arm. The effects of the alcohol were making themselves quite apparent.
Artemis focused down on her, replying blandly. "Holly, how many drinks have you had tonight?"
Straightening up and acting as dignified as possible, she began counting her fingers, starting from her thumb. "One. Two." She looked at the scar on her index finger, then up at Artemis. "How many fingers do I have?"
"Yes, time for you to go home, I think." Artemis grumbled. 'Seriously, she can't have had that much. The dance has barely started.' He began to lead her to the exit, hoping to find Foaly or Caballine (as perhaps the only responsible fairies in attendance), but he staggered slightly. He paused, shaking his head, but it did little to alleviate the odd sense of...drunkenness?
Slowly, he turned his head to regard Cupid. "God's wine. It's powerful, isn't it?"
Cupid shrugged. "It has to be. Rather quick, too."
Holding up a finger, Artemis did his best to order his thoughts. "Mulch. Doodah. You are going to take Holly to the Foaly's. They can watch her once they get home."
Doodah pouted. "What? Leave, now? The party barely got started!"
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Doodah." Mulch crooned, laying a hand on his partner's shoulder. "Perhaps I can get some cheese to go with your bitching?"
The sprite frowned. "I think you mean 'whine.'"
Mulch smiled, showing off all of his teeth. "I like my version better."
"Yes, very clever, Mulch." Artemis muttered, breathing deeply. He'd been drunk before. Perhaps not phenomenally drunk like he was likely to be quite soon, but his coordination wasn't completely shot. "Now, if you'll get Holly out of here before she passes out—"
"Noooooo!" Holly repeated herself, obviously doing her best to appear sober. "I promised you a dance!"
"Holly, under the circumstances, I can wait—"
"NO!" She began tugging him towards the dance floor, which was emptying slightly in the transition between songs. "Just one dance, then we can go home."
Artemis opened his mouth for another refusal, but a hard yank from Holly made him step onto the floor. He tried to pull back, but, though she was smaller than him, Holly was easily stronger. "Just...Holly...please!"
She turned to face him, grabbing his hands. "Artemis...just one? Then we'll go home."
He didn't miss the plural in that statement, and it befuddled his alcohol-soaked mind for the last few, critical moments before the next song began with several strong piano chords. Then he was faced with an entirely new dilemma as he took in the song's speed.
Holly smiled, her tugging losing its ferocity as Artemis's muscles relaxed. "Get over it, Artemis." She pulled his hand towards her side, moving him closer. "It's just a slow dance."
Artemis knew he had lost. There was no way he could get this determined elf to change her mind. Hesitantly, he moved his free hand to the back of her neck (the farthest down he could reach), allowing her to place her other hand on his hip. "This is...not a standard form."
She looked up at him, her smile bright. "Artemis, I don't think either of us come standard." Then she stepped backward, sparking him to move into the dance and take the lead.
The floor didn't clear like it had with Trouble. In fact, fairies swarmed onto it, crowding them together. Artemis tried a small spin, but his lack of practice and their general low coordination made it an awkward maneuver. Still, they smiled at this ungraceful move, settling into a slow shifting from foot to foot.
"I suppose you were right, Artemis. You aren't suave."
He nodded. "I've had no reason to be."
"What," she teased, briefly removing her hand from his waist to poke his chest, "no little débutante to wow?"
"No, I avoid the debs as much as possible. You know, they're only after one thing." He smiled wickedly.
"Aw...so no girlfriend?" At the shake of his head, she pursued the thought. "A Valentine, then? That's what you humans do today, right?"
"Generally, yes, but I decided to spend the time with my good friend."
"Such a sacrifice." A red tinge began to spread across her cheeks. "Then...you can be my Valentine."
"I..." He swallowed, trying to look collected as his mind processed this idea. "I would be honored. Provided you be mine."
"Of course."
They continued to circle, simply enjoying the opportunity to touch one another. Still, they could not bring themselves to keep their gazes locked, soon descending into awkward blushes. Artemis was the first to look up, pretending to inspect their fellow dancers. Soon, a nagging thought at the back of his mind began to bore through Artemis's consciousness. He turned his head, searching the ballroom until he caught Cupid's eyes. The god was watching them closely, his expression unreadable.
"Artemis?" Holly asked, bringing his attention back to her.
"Yes?"
She spent a long time in thought, lightly chewing on her cheek. Her eyes didn't meet his for nearly a minute, and when they did, she looked frightened. "I...I think we only get one more chance at this."
"One more chance at what?" Artemis asked, puzzled.
Holly took a deep breath. Then she closed her eyes, tilting her head back. Her lips parted slightly in a clear invitation.
It would have been easy. He could have dropped to his knees and tenderly accepted the kiss. Perhaps he could have even picked her up in his arms and crushed his lips against hers, and who knew where things would go from there. What he did was infinitely harder.
He removed his hand from her neck and stepped back, leading her off the dance floor and to their waiting friends. His words stuck in his throat at first, forcing him to clear it into his fist. "Er...Holly needs to go. Now."
Trouble stepped forward, reaching for the elf's hand. "I've got my car in the garage. That way Doodah—"
Artemis stepped between the two elves, staring the male down. "No. Doodah, Mulch, I presume you are to be trusted."
The dwarf grinned. "If Doodah puts one hand out of line, he gets to ride the Mulch Express."
Doodah looked offended. "And what about you?"
"I, sir, am a gentleman." He took Holly's hand from Artemis, guiding her gently towards the exit. "Did you enjoy yourself?"
She looked over her shoulder as they departed, breathing out long and shallowly. "Not as much as I'd hoped." Then they were gone, lost in the crowd.
Artemis leaned against one of the stalagmite pillars, holding his face in his hand. "That was..." He shook his head, at a loss for words.
Patting Artemis's arm, Trouble consoled the confused man. "Come on, Artemis. You'll get your chance to make your move. I'm sure of it."
Artemis snarled, bearing down on the Commander. "If you want me to do that, then perhaps you should back off."
Trouble looked at him, confused, then began laughing. "You thought...I cannot believe you, Mud Boy." He pushed the human away, though he was forced to back up slightly when Artemis surged forward again, fueled by the god's wine. "Hey! Were you listening? I don't need to 'back off.' I'm not interested in the first place."
Incredulous and still irate, Artemis clenched his fists. "Then why were you so keen to dance with Holly?"
Trouble spoke with a snap to his voice, obviously implying that the answer was supposed to be obvious. "To mess with you. Someone should take you down a few pegs every so often, and since Holly hasn't been doing that lately, the task, oh so sadly, falls to me. I mean, Holly is not my type. She's so prickly she's halfway to a cactus."
"This is not," Artemis replied, his tone no less venomous, "something you joke about."
"Why not?"
Suddenly, Artemis understood Trouble. It calmed him somewhat, but the revelation wasn't a pleasant one. He gave the elf a pitying look. "If you don't understand yet, at your age, I wonder if you ever will." Then he walked off before his fury returned, leaving Trouble to consider this with a considerable amount of unease. "Cupid? I need to speak with you."
Cupid glanced at Trouble, as if seeking support. Finding no help from him, he followed Artemis to a relatively deserted section of the ballroom. The lighting was poor, obscuring the man's face, leaving Cupid unsure if he should be worried about his safety. He was a god, but even gods can get into a fistfight and lose. "Er...Mr. Fowl?"
"Did you manipulate the music?" Artemis said coldly, looking at the immortal.
He held up his palms. "Hey, don't look at me."
"Then you didn't." Artemis was relieved.
"No, I just don't want you looking at me like that."
Artemis grabbed Cupid's collar, pulling him as close to his face as possible, actually lifting the god onto his toes. "Why on Earth would you do that? Youknowhow we feel about each other, don't you? She is intoxicated and I am far from lucid, and you are trying to throw us together like two drunken clubbers!"
Cupid reached out, digging his nails into Artemis's wrists until the human let go. The immortal stepped back, straightening his shirt. "If you're saying you don't need help, I've got to disagree."
"We may need some help, and perhaps a song would have worked nicely, but getting us smashed and turning us into completely different people?"
Now Cupid was scowling. "Okay, wait there, Mud Man. Let me tell you something Bacchus taught me: wine can change some people completely, yes, but not everyone. Others, like you and Holly, will just lose their inhibitions and fears. They will do the things they have longed to do, but were too worried about. You just lost your best chance to make your move without any fears of rejection."
Artemis closed his eyes tightly, rubbing the space on his forehead between his eyebrows. "No. No, I do not want to be with Holly because she was drunk. Her fears, her inhibitions...they are a part of her." He dropped his hands, looked to the ceiling and almost yelling in frustration. "D'arvit! I didn't even have time to give her my gift!"
Cupid held out his hand. "Well, it's a bit late, now. I'll pass it on to her, seeing as you aren't likely to see her for a while."
Reluctantly, Artemis took a few dozen sheets of folded paper our of his breast pocket, handing them over to the god, who opened the packet and inspected it critically.
"Papers? Really, this is a pretty bad gift."
"It's—"
"I know what it is, Mud Man." He shoved the papers back. "Do yourself a favor and get her some jewelry."
Artemis looked down at Cupid, not certain if he was serious. "Holly does not strike me as the 'jewelry' kind of girl."
"Mud Man...trust me."
"I see no reason to." Artemis grumbled, tucking the papers back into place.
"Fair enough." Cupid tapped his lips. "Well, then...tell me something. Where do you go from here?"
Artemis gave a noncommittal shrug, but it was obvious that he had considered this almost as soon as he had led Holly off the dance floor. "I wait for my next chance. As simple as that."
Looking amused, Cupid inspected this undeterrable human who was so stuck on his great-granddaughter. "And what, pray tell, are you going to do then?"
Taking a moment to smooth out his suit, Artemis looked for the perfect words. They were easy ones, and he said them with his old vampire smile.
"I have a plan."
The End
The story continues in The Dead, the Broken, and the Living