[Artemis Fowl] For the Love of Mister Artemis
For the Love of Mister Artemis
Characters: Artemis, kid!OC
Rating: PG
Summary: Response to an anti-Sue challenge by BFW. When Butler dies in a field mission, Artemis takes on responsibility for his daughter.
Words: 5000 (incomplete)
The rain was falling through the think boughs of Jacaranda trees; the branches not offering cover so much as condensing the droplets so that when it landed on a head, hat or umbrella it caused more damage. The rain was making the blossoms fall to the ground and those that fell became brown within minutes because of the slowly shifting feet and the water still landing on them. It was... suitable for a funeral.
Most of the crowd were in suits of one sort or another. Not just the suits that those of the high aristocracy wore but also the suits as worn by the secret service, MIB and the bodyguards that walk about with a twirled ear piece telling them Godknowswhat. It was strange then for an outside observer - like the hurst driver and the funeral attendants - to see the lone young girl in the front row. Her back was perfectly straight and her eyes were drier than quite a few of the various suits who were hiding tears behind gruff looks and dutiful faces. It was also strange with this detachment in mind to see her in the position of chief mourner next to a tall, young man with black hair and bright blue eyes which themselves had a sheen of unshed tears across them.
It was a closed coffin service for very obvious reasons. The body of the 6 foot, 11 inch man was mutilated with electric burns covering his right side and both legs. It was one of those things that you didn't ask about and would refuse to listen to if someone wanted to tell you the story.
More Jacaranda blossoms fell onto the casket which was being laid with the Irish flag as a symbol of respect. If someone had been watching the face of the young girl in the first row they would have seen a lone tear behind round-rimmed glasses and possibly brushed it off as just another raindrop.
* * * * *
In the back of the vintage Bentley the two chief mourners were watching each other warily. The girl, who was most likely only 6, sat with the same stiff-back and troubled expression that she'd been wearing at the funeral. The young man (who looked 22, but you would assume him to be older if you were to look at a list of his achievements) was sitting by the window staring out at the tracks the water was making as it journeyed down the glass. He seemed used to the experience of being in a chauffeured car and seemed to have either forgotten about the presence of the girl or be very skilled at ignoring those things that are perceived as unimportant... or hard to deal with.
The girl was the one to break the suffocating silence that filled the car with added sorrow. "Mister Fowl?" The man nodded without turning his head. "Why am I staying with you and not with Aunt Juliet or Great Uncle Peter?"
"Because I offered to take you in for just a little while. Your aunt is having trouble with the twins and Peter can barely look after himself since his accident." His head had turned to look her in the eye and now turned back to its raindrop vigil.
"But you don't want me to be here with you, do you?"
Mister Fowl was careful with his answer. "Nobody else was able to take you, Margaret. It's better if you stay with me rather than be in an orphanage or foster care. It'll only be for a while until Juliet can cope with another child around the house."
The girl - Margaret - was quite mature for one so young. Her Papa had taught her to listen very carefully and she could tell when a question wasn't been answered. She almost copied the man beside her in looking out at the rain, but thought better of it and looked down at her hands in the woolen gloves that her Papa had brought to her from when he had been to another country where it was always very cold.
Artemis saw a tear on the girl's face in a reflection on the window. And for one of the first times in his life he didn't know what he was going to do.
* * * * *
Margaret sat in the huge bathtub watching the patterns that the water made over her legs as it moved. Sometimes if she stayed still for a long time the water would stop moving at all and then she'd make a huge splash and it would jump everywhere all at once. There was a clock over near the vanity and it was way past her bedtime. Maybe Mister Fowl didn't know when her proper bedtime was and she'd be able to stay up all night. Or maybe he was testing her to see if she was going to be honest with him. She decided that it would be better to get out now and to stay up later tomorrow night or something.
She got out and wrapped herself in one of the huge blue towels that sat on the rack. It was very big and comfortable but she preferred her one at home which had Peter Pan and Wendy on it. Then she went into the room which Mister Fowl had said was hers and pulled out her nightie and undies to get dressed. Her Papa used to help her get dressed but she could do it herself and she didn't want to ask Mister Fowl for help because he probably wouldn't like her very much if she did.
* * * * *
Artemis Fowl was seated in a large and comfortable leather swivel chair in front of business plans and multiple graphs. Some of the graphs were turning decisively downwards and, after making a few calculations in his head, Artemis pushed the floor plans of a Dublin building to one side and sat back with deep frown on his face.
He was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard a loud shriek coming from the upstairs bedroom which he'd given to Butler's orphaned daughter. A half-smile that spoke more of pain then mirth crossed his face as he ran quickly along the hallway and up the main staircase. Butler would find a way to come back to life just in order to kill him if he let anything happen to his little Margaret.
He burst into the room breathing hard and saw the strangest sight involving a whimpering girl who was struggling and hopping around trying to get untangled from her long nightie. He almost laughed but then he heard the small voice coming out from beneath the layers of material.
"Mister Fowl?"
"I'm here Margaret."
"Could you help me get my nightie on? Papa usually helps me and I tried to do it myself but I wasn't able too." She was almost crying; her voice was small and scared.
"Um, I don't know what..."
"It's all knotted about my head."
"Okay." He walked to where she was standing in the middle of the room and, closing his eyes tight, helped to untangle the material and pull it down over her head.
She spun around, her hair whipping his torso. "Why do you have your eyes closed, Mister Fowl?"
He opened them and blushed slightly. "Um.. well I... It doesn't matter. Are you going to go to bed now? I'm not really sure what to do."
"Well, I always get icecream before I go to bed and I'm allowed to watch all the TV I want to and I never have to set the table or help wash the dishes."
Artemis shook his head. "Why don't I believe you? Can you just get into bed?"
The girl stuck her tongue out at him and ran to her bed bouncing on it them wriggling between the covers until both the tucks on the sides had come loose and the donna had slipped off one edge. Artemis made his way to the door and was turning off the lights as the Margaret's voice came from the depths of the bed covers.
"Aren't you going to read me a story to help me go to sleep, Mister Fowl?" She looked towards him with a 'look' on her face.
"Could you get to sleep without one? I've got a lot of work I have to do before tomorrow. It's important."
"Papa used to say that all Mister Fowl's work was important and that's why Papa had to go away so often." She paused. "Could you pretty, pretty please read me a story?"
Artemis felt incredibly guilty as he saw the look on her face when she mentioned her father. "Sure."
She was already half-way out of her bed and scrambling towards her unpacked bag. She pulled out a tattered book of fairytales and, hugging it close, ran back to the bed next to which Artemis was standing very awkwardly.
She made sure it choose the very longest one she could find and opened the book on Rumplestiltskin which at least had the longest name.
Artemis cleared his throat and began. "Once upon a time there was an old miller--"
"Aren't you going to sit down, Mister Fowl? I can't see the pictures if you read it while you're standing up. And your legs'll get tired, silly."
Artemis looked down at the girl who was shaking her head in the way which only young girls can manage. He sat down and continued.
"--And then Rumplestiltskin stamped his foot so hard that he fell through the ground and was never seen again. The End."
Artemis made to get up and leave, his duty as parental figure fulfilled but Margaret asked, "Does that mean that Rumplestiltskin was dead?"
Artemis took a deep, controlled breath and said. "No it doesn't. Just nobody ever saw him again. He ran away."
"But nobody ever sees someone who dies ever again either... Why couldn't I have said goodbye to Papa before he died? I got to say bye to Grandma."
Artemis tried to think up a good answer but his mind had abandoned him to the soundless tears that were streaking down his face. "Do you believe in God, Margaret?" she nodded, "Well, God wanted your Papa up in heaven really quickly and so there wasn't time to say goodbye to him." And Butler wouldn't have wanted you to see him like that in case you stopped believing in God because of the evidence, he mentally added.
Juliet had been to see Artemis and her niece the week before (holding one twin on each hip who were trying to hit each other over the barrier of her head). She had thought it best if Margaret was to go back to school quickly before she began to feel lonely and odd. It was best to continue in the same pattern as before when it came to losses at a young age. The theory was to make sure that the child didn't feel insecure about the other aspects of their life or like anything much had changed. Artemis understood the theory. It's amazing how something that was so common-scene needed to be written down in expensive journals before it would be practiced.
And that was the reason why Artemis waiting outside Margaret's door and listening to clanking sounds coming from within. Adele, the cook, had been helping her get dressed but apparently this help had been unwelcome and Margaret Butler was determined to do it for herself. It was an alternately frightening and amusing experience to be listening at the door; sometimes there was a loud clank as if of a hard object hitting tiles and occasionally there was a small, exasperated voice that rose above the other sounds.
Then finally the door opened and something, which could possibly resemble a child in bad lighting, stepped out.
Margaret's clothes were bunched up in strange places and her vest was misshaping her dress. Only one of the buckles on her shoes was fastened properly and the other was flapping loose and hitting her rumbled stockinged legs. But the hair was a masterpiece. Her mousy brown hair that reached the small of her back when out was pulled into a knotted mass that was lopsidedly twisted over her left shoulder. It was probably meant to be a braid but her young fingers hadn't been able to do a proper job of it and it was pulled to the side because she had obviously been trying to plait it while watching in the mirror.
Artemis almost laughed at the cute mess that she was, but Margaret's bottom lip was trembling in such a way that it was quite likely she would bite through it soon.
"How about you let Adele help you get dressed properly and them we can get you off to school?"
Adele, who Artemis knew had been watching from the bottom of staircase, yelled out "Can't do Mister Artemis. This stew is about to start boiling and I've got to watch it. You could get Maggie sorted."
"Could you, Mister Fowl?" Said Margaret - recently christened Maggie - holding out her arms.
"I guess." And he started twisting the material of her shirt sleeves around so it wasn't cutting in at odd places, "But you have to stop calling me Mister Fowl. My name's Artemis."
"Okay, Mister Arty-Miss."
Artemis shook his head and pulled the waistband of her dress down so it sat evenly. "Just Artemis."
"But Papa told me to respect people and I had to call them Mr and Mrs and..." she paused, sorting out the syllables "Mzzzzzz."
"Well... you can call me that if you want to." he unbunched the stockings and gave the dress one more yank. "There you go, Margaret."
"ThankyouMisterArtemis. Could you plait my hair properly as well? I'm hopeless at them."
"I don't think I'd do much better. Maybe Adele--"
"You could give it a shot, sir! This stew is being difficult, I won't be able to leave it."
"I see…" mumbled Artemis.
But he reached out and undid the band holding the braided knot in place. He pulled the hair through his fingers to undo the other knots and roughly parted the hair into 3 lumps. He then attempted to plait them but by halfway down he'd lost track of which part was meant to go where and also the majority of the hair strands had slipped from his fingers. And then Margaret suddenly gave a squeal as he pulled too tight and he let the plait fall from his hands. He carefully ran his fingers through the hair to undo his plait, which had turned out even worse than the 6-year-old's.
"How about you just go to school with your hair out today?"
"Okay. Don't worry it only takes practice to get better at it. Papa was horrible when he first tried - even worse than you - but he got the hang of it after a few tries. Are we going now? I don't want to be late because we have show and tell on early and it's good even if Lizzie J only ever shows us her bus pass."
* * * * *
"Are you my friend, Mister Artemis?" asked Margaret sitting on the floor making something out of paper while watching a cartoon on the television 4 weeks later. Artemis was sitting on an armchair almost in the next room reading the current copy of Robb Report - an American magazine which said a lot about humans, especially those on the top of the social scale.
"Yes, sure I am, Margaret."
"Then why do you call me Mar-gar-ette all the time? All my friends call me Maggie, now." As if the current hour was all the now it was possible to get.
"You never were called Maggie when your fa--" He paused. "And why do you want to be called Maggie?"
"Because it's a much more fun name! And there's a girl called Margaret at my school and people kept mixing us up."
"Why didn't they call you Margaret B, and the other girl with her last initial?"
"What's an initial?"
"It's the first letter of a name. So your initials are M.B. for Margaret and Butler and mine are A.F. for Artemis and Fowl. See?"
"So call us Margaret B and Margaret W? Like there's Lizzie J and Lizzy C? And Stephanie S, Stephanie R and Stephanie Scronscy?"
"That's it." said Artemis moving from his chair onto the couch behind where Margaret - Maggie - had been playing.
"Well... we could have done that but double-U is too long to say. I'm Maggie now!"
"Hello Maggie," said Artemis sticking out his hand to grip Maggie's. "I'm Artemis Fowl. It's very nice to meet you at last. I've heard so much about you."
She squiggled her hand out of his grip and stuck her tongue out. "You're just being silly, Mister Artemis."
"I'm not the one who's changing my name..."
"I'm not either! I'm still Margaret Butler but just people will call me Maggie because it's quicker to say."
"Okay, that's all right then." And he smiled at her.
* * * * *
“Arteeeemiiiiissssss…” said Maggie with a smile as she walked into his study and stood there watching him on the phone. She had been officially ‘Maggie’ for over 4 months now.
He finished the call and then fiddled around with things for a while longer without looking up, as if he hadn’t noticed Maggie’s presence. She got feed up first and strode up to his desk, reaching on tip-toe so that she could rest her arms and head on the desk.
“Artemis… Can you help me with my homework?”
“You’re meant to be doing that with Adele in the kitchen. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on since I was sick last week. And we’re going to visit your Aunt Juliet tonight. That means you have to have all your work done and I have to have done all of mine as well.”
“But Adele told me to come and ask you for help. She couldn’t help me.”
Artemis sighed and theatrically pushed his papers to one side, pushing out his chair slightly as he did so. Maggie took this as a hint and ran around behind the desk, jumping onto his lap with a muffled ‘Owwf’. Artemis pushed the long hair out of his eyes and leaned over her shoulder to take a look at the brightly doodled homework that now cluttered his desk. “So… what do you have to do?”
“We have to write down our family tree. And so Adele told me to come to see you because she said that you know everything.”
“Well, let’s see. Here you would write your mother’s name - Madeline Butler. And here you’d write Papa’s name - James Butler. And his father’s name was Simon and his mother’s Juliet - that’s why your Aunt is called Juliet. And here you’d write your other Grandparents names, which was Ruth and … Benjamin, I think. Here… how about we both go to the Library and we’ll find the family trees there? Come on. Up you get.”
He hoisted Maggie up onto his hip and picked up her homework and a company file in the other. He held them out to her and she took them from him before he resettled her on his other side. They went down the stairs and along to another wing were the extensive manor library was located.
They found the old record books and Artemis found the right pages so that she could trace her family back to Lord Hugo de Foul’s Butler, Virgil.
Artemis sat at a table and read through some more reports while Maggie worked peacefully on the floor a little way away. She was almost through to the 19th Century when she looked up and asked, “How did Papa actually die?”
Artemis looked at her and them diverted his eyes to a bare patch of carpet as if it was intriguing and unexpected.
“Was it a heart attack? Stephanie Scroncy’s Uncle had a heart attack. And Sabrina’s Grandmum had cancer like my Mum did. But how did Papa die?”
Artemis looked at her from under his sunken eyebrows. If Maggie could have realised what it was she would have seen guilt all over his face - in his eyes, mouth and worry lines. “There was an … accident. Um… a building burnt down and the firemen weren’t able to save him.”
Although Maggie couldn’t see guilt she could tell there was something wrong with what he said, but she could place it. So she took it as a lie as most people do when they can’t comprehend.
“No he didn’t! You’re lying, Mister Artemis! You’re a Liar! Why won’t you tell me what happened? I’m almost 7!”
But she didn’t wait for an answer; just sprinting out of the library and skidded into the marble hall.
And nobody was there to see Artemis, with his eyes glazed over and watering, staring further than the distance to the wall, tears making tracks down his face.
* * * * *
An hour later Adele softly knocked on Maggie’s door and poked her head around it in order to look into the room. Maggie was sitting on her bed looking trough her favourite picture book and stuttering along as she tried to read it. Her face and eyes were blotchy in an outward sign that she had been crying. Adele moved into the room silently and sat down on the bed beside her.
Maggie flopped her head down on the book and said, “Go away, Adele.”
“Ah, but I can’t. You have to get ready to go and see your cousins and Aunt and Uncle. They’re waiting for you to turn up.”
“No they’re not.”
“Yes. They are.” She reached out to pull Maggie up to look at her. “Don’t you want to see your family?”
“They… Why can’t I live with them instead of having to stay with him?”
“Because your Aunt Juliet has a lot of work to do with James and Roy. Your cousins are right terrors.”
“But I’m not. I’d be really, really good if I was with them.”
“Do you really want to be away from Artemis that badly? And me?”
“No. I love you, Adele. But Mister Artemis is mean and he doesn’t even like me. And so I don’t like him!” And she rolled over so that her back was facing Adele.
“You have to get ready to go and visit your Aunt, Maggie.”
“Hmmmmph”
“Maybe if you show Aunty Juliet how mature you are she’ll let you live with her instead of living here. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So you’ll go?”
“I’ll go.”
“Good. Chop chop. Get ready.”
Maggie got of the bed and changed into a clean dress quickly, turning round to let Adele tie the bow at the back. Then she brushed her hair out its plait, which Artemis had done that morning and ran down the stairs with Adele coming after her.
She came flying down the stairs just as Artemis walked out of his study going towards the garage where the car was parked. He stopped when he saw Maggie, just a hint of pain in his eyes before he walked out the front door without acknowledging her. For Maggie’s part she stopped dead still and walked sedately down the rest of the stairs before leaving through the door behind Artemis. Adele just stood at the top of the stairs and shook her head.
The car trip was silent and Maggie was in such an obvious huff that Artemis didn’t even try to talk to her. They had to stop at the petrol station and she didn’t get out of the car, which was very unusual for her. But she undid her seatbelt and slouched lower.
Artemis got back in, half-looked at her out of the corner of his eye and sighed. And he restarted the car and continued driving. They were almost at Juliet’s home when Artemis glanced over at Maggie once again and saw that she didn’t have her seatbelt on. He swung the car over to the side of the road in an instant and turned to her.
“WHY ON EARTH DON’T YOU HAVE YOUR SEATBELT ON, YOUNG LADY?!”
Maggie pouted and glared at Artemis from under her jutting eyebrows but you could tell she was scared.
“Maggie… It’s for safety. You’re a lot safer if we were to have an accident if you have a seatbelt on. The seatbelt would keep you in your seat and we wouldn’t have flattened Maggie all over the road.”
But Maggie’s bottom lip was trembling and her eyes were filling with tears. “You wouldn’t care if I splattered all over the road! You just want to be angry with me.”
“No I don’t, Maggie. I’m sorry that I yelled at you but that’s just because I was so scared. It’s very, very dangerous to not wear your seatbelt.”
“But why did you yell at me?”
“Because… Because… I’m sorry, Mag. Just… please don’t do that again.”
“But…”
“I only yelled because you almost gave me a heart attack I was so scared. So you’ll put on your seatbelt now?” Maggie nodded and pulled the belt across her chest, still looking at the man in the driver’s seat with tear-filled terror in her eyes.
“I… I was so scared and angry because I care about what happens to you Maggie.”
She just looked at him and nodded once more, before turning to look out her window.
Artemis sighed, shook his head, and pulled the car back onto the road.
Characters: Artemis, kid!OC
Rating: PG
Summary: Response to an anti-Sue challenge by BFW. When Butler dies in a field mission, Artemis takes on responsibility for his daughter.
Words: 5000 (incomplete)
The rain was falling through the think boughs of Jacaranda trees; the branches not offering cover so much as condensing the droplets so that when it landed on a head, hat or umbrella it caused more damage. The rain was making the blossoms fall to the ground and those that fell became brown within minutes because of the slowly shifting feet and the water still landing on them. It was... suitable for a funeral.
Most of the crowd were in suits of one sort or another. Not just the suits that those of the high aristocracy wore but also the suits as worn by the secret service, MIB and the bodyguards that walk about with a twirled ear piece telling them Godknowswhat. It was strange then for an outside observer - like the hurst driver and the funeral attendants - to see the lone young girl in the front row. Her back was perfectly straight and her eyes were drier than quite a few of the various suits who were hiding tears behind gruff looks and dutiful faces. It was also strange with this detachment in mind to see her in the position of chief mourner next to a tall, young man with black hair and bright blue eyes which themselves had a sheen of unshed tears across them.
It was a closed coffin service for very obvious reasons. The body of the 6 foot, 11 inch man was mutilated with electric burns covering his right side and both legs. It was one of those things that you didn't ask about and would refuse to listen to if someone wanted to tell you the story.
More Jacaranda blossoms fell onto the casket which was being laid with the Irish flag as a symbol of respect. If someone had been watching the face of the young girl in the first row they would have seen a lone tear behind round-rimmed glasses and possibly brushed it off as just another raindrop.
* * * * *
In the back of the vintage Bentley the two chief mourners were watching each other warily. The girl, who was most likely only 6, sat with the same stiff-back and troubled expression that she'd been wearing at the funeral. The young man (who looked 22, but you would assume him to be older if you were to look at a list of his achievements) was sitting by the window staring out at the tracks the water was making as it journeyed down the glass. He seemed used to the experience of being in a chauffeured car and seemed to have either forgotten about the presence of the girl or be very skilled at ignoring those things that are perceived as unimportant... or hard to deal with.
The girl was the one to break the suffocating silence that filled the car with added sorrow. "Mister Fowl?" The man nodded without turning his head. "Why am I staying with you and not with Aunt Juliet or Great Uncle Peter?"
"Because I offered to take you in for just a little while. Your aunt is having trouble with the twins and Peter can barely look after himself since his accident." His head had turned to look her in the eye and now turned back to its raindrop vigil.
"But you don't want me to be here with you, do you?"
Mister Fowl was careful with his answer. "Nobody else was able to take you, Margaret. It's better if you stay with me rather than be in an orphanage or foster care. It'll only be for a while until Juliet can cope with another child around the house."
The girl - Margaret - was quite mature for one so young. Her Papa had taught her to listen very carefully and she could tell when a question wasn't been answered. She almost copied the man beside her in looking out at the rain, but thought better of it and looked down at her hands in the woolen gloves that her Papa had brought to her from when he had been to another country where it was always very cold.
Artemis saw a tear on the girl's face in a reflection on the window. And for one of the first times in his life he didn't know what he was going to do.
* * * * *
Margaret sat in the huge bathtub watching the patterns that the water made over her legs as it moved. Sometimes if she stayed still for a long time the water would stop moving at all and then she'd make a huge splash and it would jump everywhere all at once. There was a clock over near the vanity and it was way past her bedtime. Maybe Mister Fowl didn't know when her proper bedtime was and she'd be able to stay up all night. Or maybe he was testing her to see if she was going to be honest with him. She decided that it would be better to get out now and to stay up later tomorrow night or something.
She got out and wrapped herself in one of the huge blue towels that sat on the rack. It was very big and comfortable but she preferred her one at home which had Peter Pan and Wendy on it. Then she went into the room which Mister Fowl had said was hers and pulled out her nightie and undies to get dressed. Her Papa used to help her get dressed but she could do it herself and she didn't want to ask Mister Fowl for help because he probably wouldn't like her very much if she did.
* * * * *
Artemis Fowl was seated in a large and comfortable leather swivel chair in front of business plans and multiple graphs. Some of the graphs were turning decisively downwards and, after making a few calculations in his head, Artemis pushed the floor plans of a Dublin building to one side and sat back with deep frown on his face.
He was jolted out of his thoughts when he heard a loud shriek coming from the upstairs bedroom which he'd given to Butler's orphaned daughter. A half-smile that spoke more of pain then mirth crossed his face as he ran quickly along the hallway and up the main staircase. Butler would find a way to come back to life just in order to kill him if he let anything happen to his little Margaret.
He burst into the room breathing hard and saw the strangest sight involving a whimpering girl who was struggling and hopping around trying to get untangled from her long nightie. He almost laughed but then he heard the small voice coming out from beneath the layers of material.
"Mister Fowl?"
"I'm here Margaret."
"Could you help me get my nightie on? Papa usually helps me and I tried to do it myself but I wasn't able too." She was almost crying; her voice was small and scared.
"Um, I don't know what..."
"It's all knotted about my head."
"Okay." He walked to where she was standing in the middle of the room and, closing his eyes tight, helped to untangle the material and pull it down over her head.
She spun around, her hair whipping his torso. "Why do you have your eyes closed, Mister Fowl?"
He opened them and blushed slightly. "Um.. well I... It doesn't matter. Are you going to go to bed now? I'm not really sure what to do."
"Well, I always get icecream before I go to bed and I'm allowed to watch all the TV I want to and I never have to set the table or help wash the dishes."
Artemis shook his head. "Why don't I believe you? Can you just get into bed?"
The girl stuck her tongue out at him and ran to her bed bouncing on it them wriggling between the covers until both the tucks on the sides had come loose and the donna had slipped off one edge. Artemis made his way to the door and was turning off the lights as the Margaret's voice came from the depths of the bed covers.
"Aren't you going to read me a story to help me go to sleep, Mister Fowl?" She looked towards him with a 'look' on her face.
"Could you get to sleep without one? I've got a lot of work I have to do before tomorrow. It's important."
"Papa used to say that all Mister Fowl's work was important and that's why Papa had to go away so often." She paused. "Could you pretty, pretty please read me a story?"
Artemis felt incredibly guilty as he saw the look on her face when she mentioned her father. "Sure."
She was already half-way out of her bed and scrambling towards her unpacked bag. She pulled out a tattered book of fairytales and, hugging it close, ran back to the bed next to which Artemis was standing very awkwardly.
She made sure it choose the very longest one she could find and opened the book on Rumplestiltskin which at least had the longest name.
Artemis cleared his throat and began. "Once upon a time there was an old miller--"
"Aren't you going to sit down, Mister Fowl? I can't see the pictures if you read it while you're standing up. And your legs'll get tired, silly."
Artemis looked down at the girl who was shaking her head in the way which only young girls can manage. He sat down and continued.
"--And then Rumplestiltskin stamped his foot so hard that he fell through the ground and was never seen again. The End."
Artemis made to get up and leave, his duty as parental figure fulfilled but Margaret asked, "Does that mean that Rumplestiltskin was dead?"
Artemis took a deep, controlled breath and said. "No it doesn't. Just nobody ever saw him again. He ran away."
"But nobody ever sees someone who dies ever again either... Why couldn't I have said goodbye to Papa before he died? I got to say bye to Grandma."
Artemis tried to think up a good answer but his mind had abandoned him to the soundless tears that were streaking down his face. "Do you believe in God, Margaret?" she nodded, "Well, God wanted your Papa up in heaven really quickly and so there wasn't time to say goodbye to him." And Butler wouldn't have wanted you to see him like that in case you stopped believing in God because of the evidence, he mentally added.
Juliet had been to see Artemis and her niece the week before (holding one twin on each hip who were trying to hit each other over the barrier of her head). She had thought it best if Margaret was to go back to school quickly before she began to feel lonely and odd. It was best to continue in the same pattern as before when it came to losses at a young age. The theory was to make sure that the child didn't feel insecure about the other aspects of their life or like anything much had changed. Artemis understood the theory. It's amazing how something that was so common-scene needed to be written down in expensive journals before it would be practiced.
And that was the reason why Artemis waiting outside Margaret's door and listening to clanking sounds coming from within. Adele, the cook, had been helping her get dressed but apparently this help had been unwelcome and Margaret Butler was determined to do it for herself. It was an alternately frightening and amusing experience to be listening at the door; sometimes there was a loud clank as if of a hard object hitting tiles and occasionally there was a small, exasperated voice that rose above the other sounds.
Then finally the door opened and something, which could possibly resemble a child in bad lighting, stepped out.
Margaret's clothes were bunched up in strange places and her vest was misshaping her dress. Only one of the buckles on her shoes was fastened properly and the other was flapping loose and hitting her rumbled stockinged legs. But the hair was a masterpiece. Her mousy brown hair that reached the small of her back when out was pulled into a knotted mass that was lopsidedly twisted over her left shoulder. It was probably meant to be a braid but her young fingers hadn't been able to do a proper job of it and it was pulled to the side because she had obviously been trying to plait it while watching in the mirror.
Artemis almost laughed at the cute mess that she was, but Margaret's bottom lip was trembling in such a way that it was quite likely she would bite through it soon.
"How about you let Adele help you get dressed properly and them we can get you off to school?"
Adele, who Artemis knew had been watching from the bottom of staircase, yelled out "Can't do Mister Artemis. This stew is about to start boiling and I've got to watch it. You could get Maggie sorted."
"Could you, Mister Fowl?" Said Margaret - recently christened Maggie - holding out her arms.
"I guess." And he started twisting the material of her shirt sleeves around so it wasn't cutting in at odd places, "But you have to stop calling me Mister Fowl. My name's Artemis."
"Okay, Mister Arty-Miss."
Artemis shook his head and pulled the waistband of her dress down so it sat evenly. "Just Artemis."
"But Papa told me to respect people and I had to call them Mr and Mrs and..." she paused, sorting out the syllables "Mzzzzzz."
"Well... you can call me that if you want to." he unbunched the stockings and gave the dress one more yank. "There you go, Margaret."
"ThankyouMisterArtemis. Could you plait my hair properly as well? I'm hopeless at them."
"I don't think I'd do much better. Maybe Adele--"
"You could give it a shot, sir! This stew is being difficult, I won't be able to leave it."
"I see…" mumbled Artemis.
But he reached out and undid the band holding the braided knot in place. He pulled the hair through his fingers to undo the other knots and roughly parted the hair into 3 lumps. He then attempted to plait them but by halfway down he'd lost track of which part was meant to go where and also the majority of the hair strands had slipped from his fingers. And then Margaret suddenly gave a squeal as he pulled too tight and he let the plait fall from his hands. He carefully ran his fingers through the hair to undo his plait, which had turned out even worse than the 6-year-old's.
"How about you just go to school with your hair out today?"
"Okay. Don't worry it only takes practice to get better at it. Papa was horrible when he first tried - even worse than you - but he got the hang of it after a few tries. Are we going now? I don't want to be late because we have show and tell on early and it's good even if Lizzie J only ever shows us her bus pass."
* * * * *
"Are you my friend, Mister Artemis?" asked Margaret sitting on the floor making something out of paper while watching a cartoon on the television 4 weeks later. Artemis was sitting on an armchair almost in the next room reading the current copy of Robb Report - an American magazine which said a lot about humans, especially those on the top of the social scale.
"Yes, sure I am, Margaret."
"Then why do you call me Mar-gar-ette all the time? All my friends call me Maggie, now." As if the current hour was all the now it was possible to get.
"You never were called Maggie when your fa--" He paused. "And why do you want to be called Maggie?"
"Because it's a much more fun name! And there's a girl called Margaret at my school and people kept mixing us up."
"Why didn't they call you Margaret B, and the other girl with her last initial?"
"What's an initial?"
"It's the first letter of a name. So your initials are M.B. for Margaret and Butler and mine are A.F. for Artemis and Fowl. See?"
"So call us Margaret B and Margaret W? Like there's Lizzie J and Lizzy C? And Stephanie S, Stephanie R and Stephanie Scronscy?"
"That's it." said Artemis moving from his chair onto the couch behind where Margaret - Maggie - had been playing.
"Well... we could have done that but double-U is too long to say. I'm Maggie now!"
"Hello Maggie," said Artemis sticking out his hand to grip Maggie's. "I'm Artemis Fowl. It's very nice to meet you at last. I've heard so much about you."
She squiggled her hand out of his grip and stuck her tongue out. "You're just being silly, Mister Artemis."
"I'm not the one who's changing my name..."
"I'm not either! I'm still Margaret Butler but just people will call me Maggie because it's quicker to say."
"Okay, that's all right then." And he smiled at her.
* * * * *
“Arteeeemiiiiissssss…” said Maggie with a smile as she walked into his study and stood there watching him on the phone. She had been officially ‘Maggie’ for over 4 months now.
He finished the call and then fiddled around with things for a while longer without looking up, as if he hadn’t noticed Maggie’s presence. She got feed up first and strode up to his desk, reaching on tip-toe so that she could rest her arms and head on the desk.
“Artemis… Can you help me with my homework?”
“You’re meant to be doing that with Adele in the kitchen. I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on since I was sick last week. And we’re going to visit your Aunt Juliet tonight. That means you have to have all your work done and I have to have done all of mine as well.”
“But Adele told me to come and ask you for help. She couldn’t help me.”
Artemis sighed and theatrically pushed his papers to one side, pushing out his chair slightly as he did so. Maggie took this as a hint and ran around behind the desk, jumping onto his lap with a muffled ‘Owwf’. Artemis pushed the long hair out of his eyes and leaned over her shoulder to take a look at the brightly doodled homework that now cluttered his desk. “So… what do you have to do?”
“We have to write down our family tree. And so Adele told me to come to see you because she said that you know everything.”
“Well, let’s see. Here you would write your mother’s name - Madeline Butler. And here you’d write Papa’s name - James Butler. And his father’s name was Simon and his mother’s Juliet - that’s why your Aunt is called Juliet. And here you’d write your other Grandparents names, which was Ruth and … Benjamin, I think. Here… how about we both go to the Library and we’ll find the family trees there? Come on. Up you get.”
He hoisted Maggie up onto his hip and picked up her homework and a company file in the other. He held them out to her and she took them from him before he resettled her on his other side. They went down the stairs and along to another wing were the extensive manor library was located.
They found the old record books and Artemis found the right pages so that she could trace her family back to Lord Hugo de Foul’s Butler, Virgil.
Artemis sat at a table and read through some more reports while Maggie worked peacefully on the floor a little way away. She was almost through to the 19th Century when she looked up and asked, “How did Papa actually die?”
Artemis looked at her and them diverted his eyes to a bare patch of carpet as if it was intriguing and unexpected.
“Was it a heart attack? Stephanie Scroncy’s Uncle had a heart attack. And Sabrina’s Grandmum had cancer like my Mum did. But how did Papa die?”
Artemis looked at her from under his sunken eyebrows. If Maggie could have realised what it was she would have seen guilt all over his face - in his eyes, mouth and worry lines. “There was an … accident. Um… a building burnt down and the firemen weren’t able to save him.”
Although Maggie couldn’t see guilt she could tell there was something wrong with what he said, but she could place it. So she took it as a lie as most people do when they can’t comprehend.
“No he didn’t! You’re lying, Mister Artemis! You’re a Liar! Why won’t you tell me what happened? I’m almost 7!”
But she didn’t wait for an answer; just sprinting out of the library and skidded into the marble hall.
And nobody was there to see Artemis, with his eyes glazed over and watering, staring further than the distance to the wall, tears making tracks down his face.
* * * * *
An hour later Adele softly knocked on Maggie’s door and poked her head around it in order to look into the room. Maggie was sitting on her bed looking trough her favourite picture book and stuttering along as she tried to read it. Her face and eyes were blotchy in an outward sign that she had been crying. Adele moved into the room silently and sat down on the bed beside her.
Maggie flopped her head down on the book and said, “Go away, Adele.”
“Ah, but I can’t. You have to get ready to go and see your cousins and Aunt and Uncle. They’re waiting for you to turn up.”
“No they’re not.”
“Yes. They are.” She reached out to pull Maggie up to look at her. “Don’t you want to see your family?”
“They… Why can’t I live with them instead of having to stay with him?”
“Because your Aunt Juliet has a lot of work to do with James and Roy. Your cousins are right terrors.”
“But I’m not. I’d be really, really good if I was with them.”
“Do you really want to be away from Artemis that badly? And me?”
“No. I love you, Adele. But Mister Artemis is mean and he doesn’t even like me. And so I don’t like him!” And she rolled over so that her back was facing Adele.
“You have to get ready to go and visit your Aunt, Maggie.”
“Hmmmmph”
“Maybe if you show Aunty Juliet how mature you are she’ll let you live with her instead of living here. Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So you’ll go?”
“I’ll go.”
“Good. Chop chop. Get ready.”
Maggie got of the bed and changed into a clean dress quickly, turning round to let Adele tie the bow at the back. Then she brushed her hair out its plait, which Artemis had done that morning and ran down the stairs with Adele coming after her.
She came flying down the stairs just as Artemis walked out of his study going towards the garage where the car was parked. He stopped when he saw Maggie, just a hint of pain in his eyes before he walked out the front door without acknowledging her. For Maggie’s part she stopped dead still and walked sedately down the rest of the stairs before leaving through the door behind Artemis. Adele just stood at the top of the stairs and shook her head.
The car trip was silent and Maggie was in such an obvious huff that Artemis didn’t even try to talk to her. They had to stop at the petrol station and she didn’t get out of the car, which was very unusual for her. But she undid her seatbelt and slouched lower.
Artemis got back in, half-looked at her out of the corner of his eye and sighed. And he restarted the car and continued driving. They were almost at Juliet’s home when Artemis glanced over at Maggie once again and saw that she didn’t have her seatbelt on. He swung the car over to the side of the road in an instant and turned to her.
“WHY ON EARTH DON’T YOU HAVE YOUR SEATBELT ON, YOUNG LADY?!”
Maggie pouted and glared at Artemis from under her jutting eyebrows but you could tell she was scared.
“Maggie… It’s for safety. You’re a lot safer if we were to have an accident if you have a seatbelt on. The seatbelt would keep you in your seat and we wouldn’t have flattened Maggie all over the road.”
But Maggie’s bottom lip was trembling and her eyes were filling with tears. “You wouldn’t care if I splattered all over the road! You just want to be angry with me.”
“No I don’t, Maggie. I’m sorry that I yelled at you but that’s just because I was so scared. It’s very, very dangerous to not wear your seatbelt.”
“But why did you yell at me?”
“Because… Because… I’m sorry, Mag. Just… please don’t do that again.”
“But…”
“I only yelled because you almost gave me a heart attack I was so scared. So you’ll put on your seatbelt now?” Maggie nodded and pulled the belt across her chest, still looking at the man in the driver’s seat with tear-filled terror in her eyes.
“I… I was so scared and angry because I care about what happens to you Maggie.”
She just looked at him and nodded once more, before turning to look out her window.
Artemis sighed, shook his head, and pulled the car back onto the road.