Irony, an artemis fowl fanfic

Disclaimer: I do not own Artemis Fowl or any other characters created by Eoin Colfer

Irony

Artemis brought the blade away from his wrist and watched as a solitary blue spark sank into the wound in his flesh. A second later all that remained was a memory of the pain. His now flawless skin looked ghostly white in the moonlight that fell through the gap in the silk curtains.

Artemis turned his attention to the knife. Twelve inches of it glowed in the moonbeams with a radiance that competed with his own. Cold metal in an unforgiving hand; or should that be the other way around? It was a work of art in its own right, how fitting.

A family heirloom; encrusted handle, emeralds and diamonds. Razor sharp.

His blood, a contrasting sharp crimson, taunted him from the edge of the blade. Fowl blood on a Fowl blade. His ancestors would be turning in their graves.

As Artemis reset the blade; pressing it lightly to his wrist, he smiled at the irony. The magic may have given him the ability to heal but it had taken away something that many viewed as more important.

The ability to feel.

To say Butler was a light sleeper would be an unforgivable understatement. He immediately opened his eyes at the sound of a tiny gasp. He was up and had silently cocked his Sig before his second breath.

He crept along the hall, making slightly less noise than the average house spider. Artemis's bedroom door was open. Butler carefully looked in, the room had but one occupant, Artemis.

Then Butler saw the knife glinting in the moonlight. Artemis had his back to the door and didn't noticed the manservant standing watching.

Artemis put the blade to his wrist and for a moment Butler considered rushing in and ripping the knife from the boy's hand. He found himself rooted to the spot as Artemis drew the blade edge across his skin.

Artemis made a sound between a gasp and a snigger.

Butler seemed to feel it himself, a white hot searing slash across his right wrist but it was just a phantom feeling.

A blue spark coated the incision leaving the boy's skin flawless once more. The only blood was on the blade.

Butler closed the door and walked away from his charge. Butler would give his life to protect Artemis Fowl junior from anyone. Anyone, that is, but himself.

Artemis heard the door close but didn't turn. What was the point? He looked up as a strong wind howled outside and the window latch slipped. A chilling draught entered, parting the curtains. Holly was there, outside the window. A look of horror on her face as she hovered in the rain.

The water poured over her, soaking her hair and running down her face. She blinked as the wind and rain assaulted her.

Artemis brought the blade into a sliver of moonlight. Displaying it almost. A drop of blood pooled on the knife edge and flowed down the handle and onto his hand.

A single tear flowed down Holly's cheek. Invisible due to the rain but not to Holly; it burned her cheek with a fire born of the experiences she'd had with the young man who now sat cutting into his opalescent skin.

Artemis held the blade for another second in the moonlight. He couldn't feel it. He couldn't feel the cold metal in his hand. He couldn't feel the frigid air entering through the open window. He couldn't feel the non-existent gash on his right wrist that should be burning with pain.

He couldn't feel his blood as it trickled down and coated his fingers, making them slick and wet.

He couldn't feel Holly's pain. Her hurt. Her feelings.

He couldn't feel his own.

Butler turned and walked away. Butler, the Butler who was sworn to protect the heir of the Fowl line, was gone… a mere shell walked along the hall, down the staircase, soundlessly (for he had oiled the door himself) it opened the front door and walked out into the freezing rain.

He was found several hours later by the local constabulary, leaning on a dry stone wall… a bottle of bourbon lay nearby. Untouched.

Holly hovered for a moment, the icy rain feeling like a hot shower when compared to the ice block which had recently replaced her heart. Her breath returned but she barely noticed its absence.

She watched in silence as the boy who now sat quietly and coolly opening his veins, the one who so emotionlessly sat cutting into his flesh.

It was the total sense of irony that made her laugh, and it was the only thing keeping her from going into shock. The tear that still seared her cheek, came not from her own - hazel - eye.

It came from his.