¤O¤ Holiday Blues ¤O¤

Chapter 1

The snowflake drifted lazily down to the earth form the heavens. It allowed itself to be caught by the wind every now and then causing it to drift off course before it managed to regain its balance and continue its descent.

Just like humans, Artemis Fowl the Second thought, observing the journey of the snowflake. We lose track of our destination so easily, but mange to get back on track, sooner or later.

He watched the snowflake land on the windowsill, disappearing immediately amidst the thousand of snowflakes already present there.

Lost, Artemis thought, twirling his pencil with his fingers. So many dreams, so many ideas, all lost when we fade away…

He sighed and turned away from the window and back to the report he should have been working on.

How I Spent The Winter Holidays.

The literature professor could not have assigned a more ridiculous assignment even if he had had all of eternity to ponder one.

What does it matter, Artemis thought, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. Why does Professor Amity care how I spend my holidays? It would be better for him to just worry about his.

And Professor Amity was worrying, very much in fact, though not exactly about how to spend his vacation. He was worrying over the fact that somehow, ever since school had closed, every electronic device in his house seemed to have channeled several particularly malevolent sprits. He was no longer able come near the toaster without it trying to bite him.

Safe in his room, Artemis smiled his infamous vampire grin. He never got tried of sending that virus.

Suddenly, Artemis sighed. For some reason, he just couldn’t get rid of his gloomy mood. Not even the thought of revenge managed to brighten him for long. Artemis wasn’t entirely sure why he had been feeling so moody.

Perhaps it was the ridiculous assignment.Maybe it was puberty. More likely, he had just gotten out of the wrong side of the bed that morning.

“Arty!” a shrill childish vice cried out form somewhere downstairs.

“Mother’s calling you!” another, nearly identical, voice followed.

Artemis surpassed the urge to scowl.

His little brothers were, there was no other word for it, pests. Ever since his return, Myles and Beckett just would not leave him alone.

Artemis didn’t think that he would have minded much if they wanted to engage in an intelligent conversation, but more often than not, the twins were interested in other matters. Namely pulling pranks on their newly acquired older brother and asking him endless, pointless questions.

“Arty! Mother’s waiting!”

“What’s taking so long? Did you drown in your own sea of despair?”

The last comment was followed by shrill giggles.

Sighing and massaging his temples, Artemis abandoned his report (gladly, though he would not admit it) and proceeded to the door.

He opened the door and the roof collapsed.

To be continued:

Chapter 2

At least, that’s what it felt like to Artemis.

A bucket filled to the rim with snow had fallen on top of his head the moment he had opened the door.

“Got you!” Two annoyingly similar voices cried out before dissolving into uncontrollable giggles.

For a moment, Artemis simply stood there, snow dripping off of him and seeping into his suit. He took a deep breath and composed himself before sighing and proceeding to brush the snow off him.

How could I not have anticipated that, he thought, shaking his head to clear the snow.

The only thins that the twins had done ever since his return was prank him. The most annoying part was that they nearly always succeeded. No matter how much time Artemis spent attempting to foresee their next move, it was all useless.

But it isn’t my fault, Artemis thought, observing the bucket that had given him the unwanted shower, as his brothers rolled on the floor still laughing. Their plans are so juvenile that I can’t possibly be able to lower my mental capacity to their level.

Over analyzing. That was the curse of all genii. However…

“How did you manage to sneak a bucket full of snow into the house when Mother has Butler guarding the front door?” he asked, suppressing the urge to give into his desire to force feed the bucket to the twins.

“Mother does not want you two to leave the house in case you catch a chill.”

Four-year-old Myles rolled his brown eyes at the idiotic question asked by his older brother, the supposed genius.

“We snuck out a window.”

“Duh!” his twin, Beckett chimed in.

“Weirdo.” Myles said in what he obviously thought was a whisper. It was one by the way.

“Really mature.” Artemis replied, walking past the twins and down the stairs.

“Freako!” was the reply, followed by “Recko!”

Leaving his younger siblings to continue on with their abuse of the English language, Artemis headed towards the kitchen, pleased with himself. He had not lost his temper. Artemis had learned fairly quickly that losing his temper with the twins did absolutely no good other than earning him disapproving looks from his parents that struck his confounded conscious.

The easiest way to counter any attack by the Terror Two (as Artemis had dubbed them, only after Butler insisted that he not call them the ‘Demonic Duo’) was to ask them a question about their pranking ability that (in the eyes of the twins) was really demeaning. The Terror Two would get annoyed and Artemis could leave, his temper and conscious in tact, though pride a little impaired.

“Yes, Mother?” Artemis asked, finding Angeline Fowl in the kitchen cooking something that smelled rather repulsive.

“Hmm? What is it, dear?” she asked distractedly, flipping rather frantically through the pages of a stained cookbook.

Artemis sighed.

Tricked again.

He should have expected that the Terror Two had only said that Mother was calling in order to get him out of the room.

“Never mind.”

He turned to leave, but Angeline looked up from her searching.

“Oh!” she exclaimed upon seeing her eldest son. “You’re soaking wet, Arty!”

It was Artemis’s misfortune that he had the unquenchable desire to sneeze at that exact moment.

“I told you not to go outside! Now you’ve caught a cold!”

Angeline grabbed a paper towel and started drying her son’s raven hair, forgetting completely about the food on the stove. The now slowly burning food.

“But I—” Artemis tried to explain.

“Hush! Be quiet and let me get you all nice and dry before you land yourself in bed with a fever and miss our family dinner!”

And so, Artemis had to endure his mother’s fussing for over half an hour before she realized that the food was burning.

The Terror Two had better prank themselves into hiding.

Artemis Fowl was out for revenge and he would not show any mercy (unless his irritating conscious absolutely demanded it of course).

To be continued:

Chapter 3

Artemis scowled as he listened to his brother’s endless chatter about some annoying new pop star.

It was now time for supper, but his mood had not lightened one bit. Actually, it had just gotten darker. And being forced downstairs to go on a family dinner had not improved it in the very least.

He had spent the afternoon thinking, not sulking, in his room about what to do with his brothers after escaping from his mother. He had come up with several schemes, some to complex to be carried out and others, like the one that involved a clown, bowling ball, and a garden gnome, to silly to even consider for long. He had had resolved to not leave his room until he came up with the perfect revenge. However, his mother had come up and forced him down, and to the fancy, tedious restaurant they were currently at for a family supper.

Artemis considered voicing his complaints to his mother, but one look at her jubilant expression was enough to send all thoughts of leaving early out of his mind. He recalled the words that she had used to get him downstairs with a resigned sigh.

“This will be the first time in years that we all sit down together for a delicious holiday supper! Isn’t it wonderful, Arty?”

Try as he might, Artemis just could not bring himself to ruin the evening by excusing himself to work on this latest project. Every time he considered the idea, a strange pain stabbed his heart, making him wince, and his brothers giggle at his expression.

Mother truly was amazing. With two simple sentences, she had ensured the fact that Artemis would stay for the entire meal. He could only wonder how she had managed to convince his father to attend as well.

Artemis’s last memory of the Fowl family having a holiday dinner together was when he was perhaps five, and even then, the meal had been interrupted halfway through by a phone call for Fowl Sr. regarding an account which had mysteriously lost several family heirlooms.

Similarly, all of the holidays following that one had involved Artemis’s father being much to busy to sit down for a meal with his family. Then, Fowl Sr. had vanished, and Artemis’s mother had had a nervous breakdown. When Artemis had finally managed to bring his father home, the holidays had been spent with him in the hospital, recuperating from his ordeal. And then Artemis himself had disappeared, so the holidays had been spent without him.

In short, the Fowl Family did not have much luck when it came to holidays. But this year, Angeline Fowl was determined to change that fact.

Clink, click, krrsh!

Artemis turned his attention to his father who had tapped his wine glass with a spoon in order to get everyone’s attention and in the process of doing so, shattered the poor glass.

“Oh, oops. Sorry about that, no Myles, don’t touch it, it’s sharp.” he said with a slightly embarrassed grin as he moved the glass away from Miles.

Artemis sent a glare towards his younger brother. Dinner had only just begun, and already something had gone wrong. Myles had no need to worsen the evening with a trip to the emergency room.

“Right, so how about we talk about our day?” Fowl Sr. said, continuing on as though there was no shattered wine glass next to him. He looked hopefully towards his eldest son. “Artemis, why don’t you begin?”

“Why him?” Beckett whined, slumping in his seat.

“All he did all day was mope around in his room.” Myles added, crossing his black coat clad arms across his chest.

“Boys,” Angeline interrupted gently, raising an eyebrow at them. “It’s your older brother’s turn to speak.”

Artemis looked at his parent’s hopeful faces and sighed. He had to make small talk with his own family. Why were things so awkward all of a sudden? He was still upset with the twins, so the annoyance towards them was expected, but why did he also feel uncomfortable with his parents?

“ I spent a few hours reading War and Peace,” he began, snatching his menu away from Beckett. “It was enlightening, though a tad dull. Then, I began on that ridiculous essay-”

“He also snuck outside even though mother said not to!” Beckett interrupted, annoyed that Artemis had taken away the menu before he could hide it.

Artemis subjected him to his best vampire glare which was met with an innocent, toothy grin.

“Oh, he was soaking wet.” Angeline interrupted, worried again. “I hope he doesn’t catch a cold.”

“Don’t worry,” Artemis’s father replied, moving his menu away from the prying hands on Myles. “He’s young and healthy. He’ll be fine.”

Artemis mentally screamed in frustration. If they weren’t going to listen, why did they bother to ask?

The twins were now chatting on about their day which revolved around the concept of them being sweet little angels. Prank their older brother? Why their innocent minds couldn’t even conceive the concept.

It was Fowl Sr. who first noticed his elder son’s darkening mood. Quickly realizing what was wrong, it wasn’t hard given the dark glare Artemis sent in the twin’s direction every minutes, he set about changing the subject.

“What an exciting day you two had.” he told the twins with a smile. “Now, what would you boys like as gifts?”

He nodded to Artemis.

“Artemis? You first.”

Chapter 4

The question caught the young genius by surprise. What did he really want? He was surprised to discover that nothing popped immediately into his mind. Surely there was something, there had to have been sometimes during the day when he wished for something he did not have. But at that moment, he couldn’t think of anything.

If he had been asked this question when he was younger, there was no doubt in his mind, he would have asked for a fatter bank account, or several bars of solid gold. If he had been a normal child, who blindly put faith in fanciful stories like Santa Clause or the Easter Bunny, he would have wished for his mother’s health and his father’s safe return home.

But he hadn’t been that sort of child. If he desired something, he went out and manipulated events until he received it. That’s just the way he was. It had been him who healed his mother, him who brought his father home, not some myth told to children who had no idea how the real world worked.

“Arty?’ His mother asked, her voice betraying concern for his silence.

Perhaps he had caught a cold. Oh, she knew it was a bad idea for her children to go outside in the snow! Before Artemis could stop her, she reached across the table and placed a hand on his forehead.

“Are you feeling cold, dear?” she asked, eyes wide. He did feel a little warm. “Do you need to lie down?”

“I’m fine, Mother.” he replied, startled by her concern. He resisted the urge to lean back, out of her reach. He didn’t want her to think that didn’t appreciate her concern. “I was just…thinking.”

“If you’re sure, Arty” Angeline said, settling back in her seat. “But tell me the minute you feel faint or need to go home.”

“You always think.” Myles said, annoyed. He turned to his twin who was busy trying to get a spoon to stick to his nose and failing horribly. “Right Beckett?

Beckett nodded, and the spoon fell off his nose again. “Thinking is bad for you. Too much will make you slow.”

“What?” Fowl Sr. asked, bemused by this revelation.

“Like if you stand in the middle of the street, and a car comes.” Myles said, in a knowable tone of voice. “If you don’t think, you run away and the car don’t hit you. But if you think, splat! Roadside pancake.”

Artemis looked at his brothers, torn between annoyance and amusement, as his parents attempted to hide their smiles.

“If you had thought beforehand,” he told them, “you would not be standing in the middle of the road in the first place.”

Before the twins could retort, Fowl Sr. quickly steered the conversation back to the previous topic.

“You never told us what you want, Artemis.”

Artemis blinked. That’s right, he hadn’t.

“Anything is fine.” he said, finally.

“Are you sure?” Both of his parents said at the same time.

“I can’t even remember the last present I gave you that you were truly appreciate of.” his mother added.

Artemis could. The best present she had ever given him was waking up and being herself again. Nothing could beat that.

San D’Klaus.

He picked up his menu and studied its contents as though it was the most fainting thing on earth. Suddenly, he was feeling very embarrassed with the attention, he was barely able to keep a blush from coloring his pale cheeks.

Though he would never admit it, he had his family (even the Terror two were welcome, despite their many faults), a few treasured friends, and several stuffed bank accounts. He was content for the time being.

Fowl Sr. looked at his son curiously, but didn’t push the subject. If Artemis wanted to tell them why he was attempting to hide behind the menu, then he would. There was no need to pressure him into it. He turned to the twins, who had grown bored of the conversation some time before and were mixing as many packets of pepper as they could get their hands on into Myles’s glass.

“What about you two? What would you like?”

Myles answer first, just a split second quicker than his twin. “I know what I want!”

“No fair! Me first!” Beckett said, glaring at his twin.

“No, I’m first! I‘m older!”

“Are not!”

“Am too!”

“Not!”

“Too!”

Artemis seriously considered strangling the two, or at moving tables so that none of annoyed people glaring at their table would think he was related to those two.

His parents, however, merely smiled at their youngest children’s antics.

“I’m first times infinity!” Myles screeched, looking as though he was about to jump on top of the table.

“I’m first times infinity plus one!” Beckett replied, in the same tone of voice.

Simultaneously, they turned towards Artemis with identical puppy-dog eyes.

“Arty! Who’s first!” they demanded.

Caught by surprise, Artemis didn’t answer immediately. If he chose one twin, the other would be sure to get revenge in some embarrassing and juvenile manner. Should he risk it? No way.

“Myles, why don’t you go first?” Angeline said, smiling.

“Ha!” Myles said, sticking his tongue out at Beckett who slid down in his seat, sticking out his lower lip.

“No fair,” he grumbled.

Myles grinned at his parents. “What was the question?”

Artemis just barely managed to stop himself from banging his head on the table. Just barely.

“What would you like as a present, dear?” Angeline replied with patience that only a mother has. Even Fowl Sr. was looking a bit annoyed.

“What do I want?” Myles said, leaning back in his chair, apparently in deep thought, despite his previous dislike of thinking.

“I know what I want.” muttered his twin.

I know what you’ll get if you don’t cease with your immature behavior, Artemis thought before his realized exactly what it was that he had thought. He shook his head in an attempt to clear it. The twin’s behavior seemed to be infective. Still a bit surprised by what he had thought, he absently picked up the glass that was closest to him, which was Myles.

“I want…” Myles paused for dramatic effect. Artemis raised the glass up to his lips, about to take a sip.

“To be just like Arty!”

The pepper hit his taste buds at the exact same second as his brain processed Myles words.

What!