[Artemis Fowl] Five Days Flight
HELLO 2006!
(Yes, I did fic from 2005 to 2006. I swam from 2004 to 2005. I also apologise, on behalf of Sydney, for the psychodelic hearts on the Harbour Bridge.)
Title: Five Days Flight
Fandom: Artemis Fowl
Characters: OCs, historical fic.
Rating: PG
Prompt: [Jan 01: Don’t Go] on 31_days and #07 - Days
Words: 515
The Romans were coming. Their advancing legions had been seen only a day’s flight away. The fairies had five days to live, and they sent their prayers to a long-lost heaven.
The message three moons ago had said that the tunnels were coming. But the months had turned to weeks, had fallen to days, and there was no escape.
The first night the sprites talked about charging up on magic and taking out as many as possible, but Ilex held her child close and said no.
We can shield, she said. And we can shield our loved ones as well. If we fight, we will die. If we hide, we may survive.
On the second night it was worse. Euphorbia drank the human spirits and egged her husband onto war. He struck out at Julius, the only Mud Man still in the compound. Julius had taken the beating, barely flinching to the tiny punches, his arms unmoving by his sides.
The elf collapsed to the spirits with blue sparks jumping across the blood on his knuckles.
The Third night she stayed inside her shabby tent. She spilt magic across her husband’s tired face, and they talked of how they met. Herself a lowly dryad, tied to her tree. Now she is tied to her Julius, and she is thankful that the tunnels never came.
I never could have left you, she whispers, her husband holding her as easily as she in turn holds their child. The baby wakes in the night, and she rocks it quietly, long into the long long night.
On the Fourth night the Dwarves arrive. Julius negotiates with them, as none of these fairies are used to treating Dwarves as People, whereas Julius just wants the safety of his family assured in whatever way possible.
On the Fifth day Ilex cries in her husband’s arms. I can’t leave you. I can’t! I am tied to you, to little Ophrys. She pushes her wand of holly wood into his calloused, old hands. I’ll stay. I can hide myself, and the others will go with those … those Earth Eaters. I must stay.
“And when I die, and Ophrys dies, and you are left alone, up here in the world Above?”
On the Fifth night she leaves, pulled into the tunnel by her kin. Julius hides the holly wand in the baby’s swaddling clothes, holding his child close.
The Romans arrive. They ask for his papers, and he introduces the Centurion to his little girl, Ophria, whose sickly mother accounts for her small size. He packs his tent, and points towards the North when they ask if a herd of fey passed by.
He teaches his girl of the fey, her People Below. She watches her father die of the failing sickness. She watches Christianity spread through the Known World. She laughs when the Roman Empire falls, and the Darkness descends over Europe.
She plays with her magic fingers, alone, when no one will see her as a witch. But she never finds the tunnel entrance, and she can never return to her kin.
(Yes, I did fic from 2005 to 2006. I swam from 2004 to 2005. I also apologise, on behalf of Sydney, for the psychodelic hearts on the Harbour Bridge.)
Title: Five Days Flight
Fandom: Artemis Fowl
Characters: OCs, historical fic.
Rating: PG
Prompt: [Jan 01: Don’t Go] on 31_days and #07 - Days
Words: 515
The Romans were coming. Their advancing legions had been seen only a day’s flight away. The fairies had five days to live, and they sent their prayers to a long-lost heaven.
The message three moons ago had said that the tunnels were coming. But the months had turned to weeks, had fallen to days, and there was no escape.
The first night the sprites talked about charging up on magic and taking out as many as possible, but Ilex held her child close and said no.
We can shield, she said. And we can shield our loved ones as well. If we fight, we will die. If we hide, we may survive.
On the second night it was worse. Euphorbia drank the human spirits and egged her husband onto war. He struck out at Julius, the only Mud Man still in the compound. Julius had taken the beating, barely flinching to the tiny punches, his arms unmoving by his sides.
The elf collapsed to the spirits with blue sparks jumping across the blood on his knuckles.
The Third night she stayed inside her shabby tent. She spilt magic across her husband’s tired face, and they talked of how they met. Herself a lowly dryad, tied to her tree. Now she is tied to her Julius, and she is thankful that the tunnels never came.
I never could have left you, she whispers, her husband holding her as easily as she in turn holds their child. The baby wakes in the night, and she rocks it quietly, long into the long long night.
On the Fourth night the Dwarves arrive. Julius negotiates with them, as none of these fairies are used to treating Dwarves as People, whereas Julius just wants the safety of his family assured in whatever way possible.
On the Fifth day Ilex cries in her husband’s arms. I can’t leave you. I can’t! I am tied to you, to little Ophrys. She pushes her wand of holly wood into his calloused, old hands. I’ll stay. I can hide myself, and the others will go with those … those Earth Eaters. I must stay.
“And when I die, and Ophrys dies, and you are left alone, up here in the world Above?”
On the Fifth night she leaves, pulled into the tunnel by her kin. Julius hides the holly wand in the baby’s swaddling clothes, holding his child close.
The Romans arrive. They ask for his papers, and he introduces the Centurion to his little girl, Ophria, whose sickly mother accounts for her small size. He packs his tent, and points towards the North when they ask if a herd of fey passed by.
He teaches his girl of the fey, her People Below. She watches her father die of the failing sickness. She watches Christianity spread through the Known World. She laughs when the Roman Empire falls, and the Darkness descends over Europe.
She plays with her magic fingers, alone, when no one will see her as a witch. But she never finds the tunnel entrance, and she can never return to her kin.