Work Text:
“Who’s the lucky guy, Commodore?”
Holly jumped at the sudden question, fingers almost cut by a particularly prickly stem. She turned to glare at the offending florist, who was putting up a smug gossip face.
“Can’t a female officer buy flowers just for decorating her own home?”
“Hey we both know what day is coming up, Miss Short, no need to be prickly about it.” The gnome chipped, unbothered by her defensive reply. "And you don't seem like the flowers type of girly."
"None of your business."Holly muttered, but she knew he was right. She was a breathing target by coming to a flower shop only days from Valentines and with all the traditions fairies had for this festival. But she couldn't exactly blurt out that her special someone is a human. Not to mention the notorious Artemis Fowl.
It took them seven years to become official, and that’s only counting after his resurrection. But at some point they picked up where they'd left off. Now here they were, ready to celebrate their first Valentines together aboveground.
"No judgments from me, officer."The florist hopped pleasantly to her side, rearranging the tulip bundles she flipped through. "I got fairies lining up this past week asking for my customized bouquets. I don't get the famous LEP jewel here very often, just curiosity getting the better of me. I won't be nosy if you ask me not to."
The gnome knew business clearly, a great flatterer. Holly knew well enough her reputation didn't exactly define her as the jewel of the LEP. In fact it's only during Artemis's five-year absence did she shake off the crazy girly-captain disrepute entirely and got promoted to Commodore. During that time she discovered that she missed her adventures with Artemis. And when he came back, discovering he had missed her.
"What do you suggest then?" She conceded. In truth she had no idea what to bring Artemis. She had been lingering in the shop for almost twenty minutes with no clue for the appropriate one. Though to Holly's defense, how would anyone know what to get for some one as resourceful as Artemis Fowl?
"If you have no idea what kinds of flowers he likes, then settle for the conventional." He gestured to the assorted fairy roses lying neatly in buckets on metal racks.
"No, we had some…unpleasant memories for roses." Holly doubted Artemis would like fairy roses, being rose from the dead and all. She could barely resist cringing herself, when reminded of those dark days.
The old florist noticed the dark expression flashing across the Commodore's face immediately. Normally one would consider those as flashbacks of a past quarrel or a fight, to the inexperienced. But he had been assigned to assist in layouts for weddings, and funerals, in numerous occasions. He knew trauma when he sees it. And truth be told, he had been more than intrigued by the published records of the former Captain's deeds, though controversial in some accounts, definitely heroic.
"Hmm. The whole point was to be meaningful anyway. Whether it's a gift he likes or of traditional value. Maybe think back to your experiences related to any botanic elements." His words didn't seem to soothe the troubled Commodore, who still appeared lost in thought. Finally he took pity on the young elf. "Or, use this as an opportunity to ease the unpleasant emotions. Replace old memories with a new, happier one."
Holly was snapped back to reality when the gnome gruffly pushed a bundle of red roses in her arms. She hadn't missed what the gnome had said. But seven relatively peaceful years didn't soften the blow one bit, and she suspected the memory of their last battle would haunt her for decades to come. It wasn't exactly PTSD, though she had gone through therapy right after the incident, but more like reflexive defense.
All that talk about meaningful gifts did raise an interesting idea however. She nudged away the red roses, instead asking him, "You said you take customized orders huh?"
Artemis found himself uncharacteristically nervous. He surveyed the pre-arranged dining room for the hundredth time. All set. Their first Valentines together as a couple, instead of two grudging friends minding their own businesses in different worlds. It was…unnerving, for a change. Even though he had withheld feelings for the dear officer for how long—nearly a decade? It's still a novel feeling to be so devoted to another individual. Though with Holly, it was always worth the price to pay.
A smile stretched across his pale face, wider than his younger self would ever allow himself but a habit developing far too easily when he and Holly started dating. He had once held disdainful opinions on people turning into lovesick fools when engaged in a relationship. But then again, that person didn't have the privilege to acquaint with Holly Short.
The fairy communicator rang. Artemis all but punched himself, thrusting the ring to his ear and picking up on the first ring.
"I'll be here in five minutes, Artemis." Holly chirped. She was obviously flying. Flying often got her spirits high. But tonight there were plenty of reasons to be excited over and Artemis secretly hoped she was feeling the same way.
"Good. I've been ready for hours."
"Hours?" Holly teased, "I've been ready for days." She hang up grinning, clutched the little parcel in her right arm tighter and accelerated towards Fowl Manor.
Their dinner went smoothly, as any friend-to-lovers could be. As much as he wanted to do it the ceremonious way, it’s hard to bring an elfin girlfriend to a high-class human restaurant without creating some sort of chaos(which happens to be their specialty). And Holly had insisted the supper be domestic lest she should learn those pointless mud man etiquettes. Nevertheless Artemis was not someone who’d take traditions casually.
Which is how Holly found herself in an honest-to-god candlelight dinner, eating the most ostentatious display of salad on a seventeenth-century mahogany table. Retrospective. Holly had commented with a smirk, though she wasn’t going to argue over divine food.
Despite the orchestrated atmosphere, their conversations were as natural as ever. So natural that sometimes, Artemis would forget they’re actually celebrating Valentines as more than friends. They chatted amiably, Holly telling him about trivialities of her daily works, a considerable proportion of complaining about insubordinate LEP lackeys. Artemis as usual, elaborated on his brilliant projects, which Holly received with eye-rolls and snide comments. But they weren't nearly as harsh as she allowed herself before.
Somewhere between world savings and Mars expeditions, they had both become softer. They both felt it, but neither pointed out.
"A talking dog!" Holly barked in laughter. "Gosh their reactions! Priceless."
Artemis shook his head, amused. "Without the gift of tongues talking animals shouldn't be surprising at all."
After dinner they were now in the Fowl family living room, sitting by the fireplace on a plush sofa side by side—watching human sitcom, much to Artemis's chagrin and Holly's insistence.
"I really don't see why your kind obsess over our TV shows so much. How can you stand this melodramatic acting?"
"Come on it's so funny!" She punched him lightly on the shoulder, "And while you humans are so far behind us technologically, I admit when it comes to entertaining you people are a lot more innovative than us. I mean talking dogs! Who would've thought it?"
"Who indeed." Artemis raised his eye brows at her, and she laughed again.
It drawled on. Episode by episode. Artemis would have long abandoned the ridiculous screenplay if he wasn't so content with Holly tucked in the crook of his arm and laughing ever so often.
She was absorbed in the series of family dramas, her eyes twinkling as the technicolors reflected off her irises. Artemis felt content enough just watching her.
He was far from ingenuous in his childhood. One could even say brought up to be an aristocrat, and that was before his father had gone missing. He never saw the point in those sitcoms featuring family trifles.
Or maybe, just avoiding thinking how he never got the chance to.
Flashbacks were beginning to dampen his mood. Not wanting to disturb Holly's, he rubbed his temples distracting himself and focused on the moment. Right now. With her.
Yet it seemed he failed anyway. Because Holly was no longer laughing. She was staring ahead, eyes focused on the projected screen.
Oh, it's the sitcom. He thought. Before he had time to process what was progressing Holly spoke. "I didn't realize humans are so attached to their pets."
The protagonist was hugging the supposed talking dog tightly, tears streaming down her face. I just wish you can live longer, so you can stay with us more. The teenage girl sobbed.
"Yes." Artemis paused, then replied quietly, "In fact a majority of us consider them family. Even if we'll likely live far longer, for example one year of aging is approximately equivalent to seven for dogs."
"Maybe you're not that coldblooded as we thought."
"I dare say we aren't. In more ways than one. Being homeothermic mammals with a rather stingy expiration date."He chuckled faintly.
Holly didn't say anything, merely gripped his arm a little closer to her, those cute bow lips set into a thin line.
Not unfamiliar with associative thinking, he broke away from her grasp and reached out for the remote. Turning down the volume, he swiveled towards her, using both hands to cup her face. "Holly." He whispered gently. "We had this conversation before remember?"
"That doesn't make this easy for me." She took his hands, but didn't meet his searching eyes.
"We'll have decades together, at the very least."
"Well I have centuries."
"I assure you I won't leave anytime soon." And before he could stop himself,"Not if I have a say about it."
Holly's eyes snapped to look up, questions written all over her features, just before Artemis put a finger on her slightly-part lips. Don't. Not yet. His look seemed to imply.
He had a plan, a secret project he had been working on ever since this became a thing. But Artemis knew he ought not raise her hopes up just yet. He had slipped far enough as it is. Time to change the subject.
"Well Commodore, since you're so keen on comparing me with that pet dog, what have you got for me as a treat then?" He mimicked one of the gestures the aforementioned talking dog had a habit of doing, which is stretching one hand palms up for food. The action was so comical, so un-Artemis that Holly couldn’t hold back a snort, adding halfheartedly “Why don’t you woof-woof while you’re at it?”.
But it did the job. The melancholy mood was over, and Artemis watched Holly went to fetch the parcel she brought and placed it carefully between them. She looked disconcerted for some reason. The dark green wrapping paper was ripped open, and Artemis stared at Holly’s gift laying peacefully inside, wide eyed, momentarily breathless.
It was a rose wreath. The roses were orange, but not the uniform orange of usual catalogue. They ranged from deep burnt sienna at the heart to the pale apricot blush of dawn at the petal tips. Each bloom was small, tight, almost wild—nothing like the cultivated long-stems humans preferred. Woven between them, binding the whole circle together, were sprays of holly leaves. The leaves were narrow, their edges serrated with tiny, deliberate spines that caught the light like the teeth of a fine saw. Some were deep forest green; others had begun to bronze at the edges, tipped with the faintest rust.
He gingerly picked it up. It was lighter than expected. The roses brushed his fingers like velvet, the holly leaves pressed back with a faint, leathery resistance. It smelled of earth and green things and something faintly, defiantly magical—the same scent that he first breathed in when he was gifted a second life.
Holly was twiddling her thumbs nervously, apprehensive at Artemis’s stunned silence. “I wanted to give you something memorable for both of us. I figured a bouquet is too...clichéd for your taste, and I know it’s long past Christmas, and...”She was almost floundering for the right words, “I didn’t mean to stimulate unpleasant feelings or anything I swear! But I knew orange roses are both signs of you coming back and...”
Artemis abruptly cut off her explaining, pulling her into a tight embrace.
It almost hurt, bone-crushing hugs, as the novels often depict, and Holly marveled at the precision of those words briefly. Being pressed to each other she could literally feel his quickened heartbeat, and his warm exhale on her neck. Despite having trouble breathing when her ribcage was pressed so tight to him, Holly found she never wanted to let go.
Eventually he did. His eyes adorned that rare soft glow, much like when they were back in Hybras. “I love it, Holly. Thank you so much for this wonderful gift.”
“You really like it?”Her brain didn’t quite catch up, still caught in their prolonged closeness.
Artemis laughed gently. “Of course, Holly. My understanding of psychology is exemplary, I’ll have you recall. Even though seven years had already appeased my irrational discomfort around roses, I still greatly appreciate you doing this for me. That’s really considerate, Holly. Exceptional even. How on earth did you come up with this idea?”
“The florist told me.”Holly was relieved, and quite contented. “He said I could cope with causes for unpleasant emotions by using it to create a new happier memory. I can’t believe it actually worked.”
“Indeed.” Artemis nodded earnestly, then suddenly grimaced, “Unfortunately my gift isn’t nearly as impressive as yours, I suppose I’ll have to ask for forgiveness.”
He took out a deep espresso-coloured box under the TV projector, which to Holly’s surprise she didn’t notice the entire time. She lifted the lid, revealing a scarf folded inside, it was longer than average, the chestnut cashmere resting against cream tissue paper, neat like a specimen in a natural history cabinet.
She raised an eyebrow. “You do know I wear uniforms to work, don’t you?”
“Of course I knew that. That doesn’t mean you can’t wear it on your day off.”
“And that Haven’s temperature is always altered to average?”
Artemis huffed. “So you don’t like it.”
“Who ever said that?”
“How can you like something you don’t get to use?”
“Is the wreath something you can use?”
Artemis smiled sheepishly, silently berating himself for such a flawed statement. “No, but I was going to hang it on my bedroom door. It’s beautiful.”
“And your scarf is too.”Holly pinched his nose playfully. “I can always use it as a blanket on my sofa, if you’re so fond of utility. And right now.” She pointed to herself meaningfully.
Artemis grinned and wrapped the Cashmere scarf around Holly's neck, tucking the folds in his usual meticulous way. His fingers lingered near her chin and savored the soft coffee skin on his touch. Artemis lifted his eyes to her face and saw Holly already gazing at him, her usually vivid features softened by the glow from the chandelier above, casting shadows like gems across her face. He had chose this color intentionally, it fit her skin and auburn hair perfectly, the rich colours a feast for the eyes, and Holly, a striking combination of wired strength and delicacy.
Yes, she was beautiful. Affection surged through him. For god knows how many times, he felt so grateful for living again and owing his life to her. A debt he was willing to pay lifelong if he could.
Gently, he tugged at the scarf’s ends, bringing Holly closer and closer…Holly smiled and closed her eyes, leaning up slightly towards his face, his lips descending down to hers ever so subtly…
Unfortunately for Artemis, Fowl Manor had an exquisite heating and ventilation system, thus the humidity was drastically lower than Dublin's average. The friction caused by his swift movements to arrange the scarf didn't help his case either. Therefore it caught them both by complete surprise when a loud ZAP resulted at the point where their lips touched.
The two distracted lovers bounced back, both covering their mouths in pain. Holly was laughing so hard that tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes. "That went well." She finally choked out the words, before she collapsed into a second round of hysterics.
Artemis's hand was on his lips, seemingly still in shock but the flush on his face made Holly question otherwise. "Of all the timings static energy could occur." He grumbled, a quite petty remark for Artemis. "I'm afraid I can feel my lips swelling."
"Artemis Fowl, actually blaming physical phenomena, now that's something I don't see everyday."
"Technically I wouldn't call static electricity a phenomenon, it's a quite common occurrence stimulated by…"
The lecture would've continued had not Holly disentangled one end of the scarf, roughly sliding it around his neck and pulling him down in a deep kiss.
When they finally broke apart, Artemis couldn't help but grin smugly, "Now that's a really effective way. Perhaps I should lecture you more often."
Holly gave him the look. "Oh no, mud boy. Next time you start your little science obsession I'm going to stop you the good old-fashioned way."
Artemis winced, already recalling the impatient elf's old-fashioned way. By returning his pain-in-the-neck behavior by being his pain in the leg, literally. He shook his head, a mocking exasperation on his face, "Holly Short. How did we ever get together."
Holly grinned, snuggling closer to him. They were now sharing the scarf, Artemis absently playing with the fringes, his face half buried in her hair while Holly rested her head on his shoulders. It was near midnight, but neither of them felt like sleeping. She didn’t often get the chance for upground breaks. Artemis, the natural pessimist, felt regret overwhelm him again at the thought.
“I’m sorry that I have to be human.”He broke off the comfortable silence some time after, collapsing once again into gloom.
Holly was confused at the sudden change of his tones. “Why would you say that?”
“If I’m an elf, I won’t be hurting you nearly as much as now. I could’ve taken you to a decent restaurant for Valentines. And you would never have to worry about our differences in age, or having to endure a long-distance relationship.” He closed his eyes, brows furrowed deep in distress. “I hate that I have to be your source of pain, all this time, and I can’t stop it.”
“...”
“Arty, please.” she said, her voice a gentle rumble against his side. She snorted, a soft, dismissive sound. Artemis wasn’t sure he’d heard right. Was she actually mocking him? She lifted her face up to meet his. There was nothing but fierce, amused certainty in her mismatched eyes. “After all we’ve been through, you think I want some…normal, easy, public relationship? Or pained or retreat just because you’re human who also happens to be my best friend who saved the world with me and faced life and death together?” A slow, wicked smile touched her lips. “I’d be bored in five minutes.”
She reached up and pulled gently on the scarf, bringing his forehead to rest against hers. “I won’t have you any other way, Artemis,” she whispered, the words a soft breath in the space between them. “And don’t you ever forget that again.”
“Okay.”Her words comforted him once more, he decided that there was enough morose for tonight. Artemis nuzzled his nose against her cheeks. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Holly.”
“Happy Valentine’s Day, Arty.”
The fire crackled. The night held. And for two people who had spent most of their lives expecting tomorrow to be a battle, this moment—quiet, ordinary, theirs—was the greatest victory either could imagine.