Author note at end to avoid spoiling.
Esme Watson paused over Nissa Fowl's table. The girl had artistic talent; there was no doubt about it. The figures were still somewhat childish, but far more detailed than was typical for that age. More detailed than the older after-school care children's artworks tended to be, in fact.
Nissa had started at the nursery school that morning, on the insistence on her father, Artemis Fowl, despite her having a nanny, because he'd wanted her to learn how to interact with her peers while she was young enough that her intelligence wouldn't impact her peer relations too strongly.
"I was well aware of my own superiority by the time I could have started school, Ms Watson, and it took me nearly ten more years to learn that being a genius didn't make me unconditionally superior to persons with more average IQs. I want Nissa to learn that people aren't pawns, and I don't want her to have to learn it the hard way, like I did," he'd said when he came to enrol her. Mr Fowl was a very young man, barely out of his teens if he was yet, Nissa obviously the unintentional but cherished result of teenage hormones.
Nissa had painted a group portrait. There was a slim blonde woman, a man in a dark blue suit, a round, heavy-set brunette woman, a small girl with chestnut hair and darker skin than the rest of the group, wearing Nissa's current outfit, two boys a little larger then her, and two more men in suits, one short, slim and dark haired, with fairer skin than the rest of the group, the other muscular and towering over all the others, with slightly sallow skin and almond eyes that seemed to indicate Asian ancestry. The palette showed the result of her mixing the four different shades of flesh-coloured paint, something that her fellow Art students in high school might not have bothered with.
"You're a better draw-er than me, Nissa. Is that your family?"
"Yes. That's Grandma, and Grandpa. Grandpa's got a pretend leg, but you can't tell in the picture, 'cause you can only tell if you look really hard. That's Ruby, my nanny, she looks after me like mummies are supposed to because mine went away. That's me. See my blue dress?" she asked, tucking a lock of hair behind a slightly pointy ear.
"Yes, it's a lovely dress."
"That's Esau and Jacob. They're twins. That's Daddy. I'm going to be as good at everything as him when I grow up, and that's Domovoi. Domovoi used to look after Daddy like Ruby looks after me, but Daddy grew up, and now they want to get married, but they can't, least not here in Ireland, 'cause the gov'ment's mean."
"Really?"
"Yes," she said with an emphatic nod. A grin slid across her cherubic brown face, and for half a second it looked elfin, but as it widened became almost vampire-like. Esme recalled a similar grin on her father, and had a shiver as she recollected that in some versions of the myth, vampires were dark-skinned, not pale.
"You finished?"
"Yes. Can I borrow the book you said I could borrow now?"
"Don't you want to play outside for a bit, Nissa?" asked Esme.
Nissa shook her head. "I don't like running around. I'd rather read or paint."
"Spending too much time sitting around isn't good for you."
Nissa wrinkled her nose. "That's what Daddy and Domovoi say, but Daddy doesn't like running around either, and Domovoi has to make him."
"Domovoi still looks after your Daddy, does he?"
Nissa nodded, smiling brightly. "Daddy called him a 'mother hen' the other day, and said he fussed less when it was his job."
Esme laughed. "Tell you what, run around for a few minutes, and then you can borrow one of my books."
"Reasonable."
After almost exactly five minutes of playing tag with Bertie Connolly and Sherrie Hanlon, Nissa was back, mahogany-cheeked and panting. "Can I borrow a book now?"
"OK. How about we go see what I have?"
Nissa looked through the selection of children's novels that Esme had brought from home for her, and finally selected 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe', settling down on a beanbag in the reading corner.
She was nearly finished when her father came to collect her just before naptime.
"Daddy!" she yelled, throwing the book down and barrelling across the room towards him in a way that was unusually age appropriate.
Mr Fowl bent to scoop her up, kissing her on the forehead, and settling her on his hip. "Hello, elfkin."
"You're early, Daddy," said Nissa, with a glance at the clock.
"Your mother's come for a visit, and having you at nursery school during her limited time here wasn't part of her plan," replied Mr Fowl.
"I haven't finished my book."
"The book will still be there when your mother goes home. Surely she's more important," replied Mr Fowl.
"I s'pose," said Nissa reluctantly, burying her face in her father's neck.
"Take it with you," said Esme. "It's not as if it's at the reading level of any of the other children here."
"What were you reading?" Mr Fowl asked.
"The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe," replied Nissa.
"Keep in mind that Lewis had an agenda, Nissie. The Narnia Chronicles were intentionally written to get his religious views 'past the watchful dragons' of healthy scepticism."
"'kay," said Nissa, followed swiftly by a yawn.
"Do enunciate, dear. Adults are more likely to seriously underestimate you if you sound like you haven't finished learning to talk."
Esme retrieved the book, using a small scrap of paper as a bookmark, and handed it to Mr Fowl.
"Thank you, Ms Watson," he said.
"I believe you had a painting to take home as well, Nissa," Esme said in reply.
"Oh, yes! I did," exclaimed Nissa, and she wriggled out of her father's arms and ran over to the painting corner to retrieve her painting. "Look Daddy!"
Mr Fowl took the painting. "That's very good, Nissa. Maybe we should have named you Sophia," he said as he bent to pick her back up.
"The Sophia didn't actually do a good job, though. Gnostic thought was that the world she created was fundamentally flawed," protested Nissa.
"Can't put anything past you, can we?" Mr Fowl said. "Never mind. I should have remembered that you devour even obscure mythology. No wonder you've started reading outright fantasy."
"What about the Rainbow Serpent?"
"Well, people might wonder what I was thinking, calling you that. Nissa and Sophia are normal names, and I'm afraid your mother did make me promise not to call you anything 'ridiculous'."
Nissa's ears visibly pricked up. "Did she, really?"
"She also made me promise not to name you after any lunar or hunting deity."
"Because your name is 'Artemis' and so is Grandpa's?"
"Of course."
"She really did want to make sure you looked after me properly," said Nissa in wonder.
"Obviously, darling. I told you she would have kept you if she could have."
"Why couldn't she?"
"I'll tell you in the car. Come along."
"Coming Daddy. Bye, Bye, Miss Esme."
"Goodbye, Nissa," Esme replied. She then had to go deal with Sherrie's cries at having been splashed with milk by Bertie, and missed seeing her leave.
A/N: I started this not long after TOD, though I have since updated it for TLC -- including the twins, for example, and changing Nissa's name from Athena, seeing as the goddess Athena is Minerva's Greek counterpart.
For those who didn't get it during the fic, Holly is Nissa's mother, but my intention was never that there was a continuing sexual or romantic relationship before or after Nissa's conception, so obviously not the same universe as my AH drabble 'Cupid's Daughter'.
The name 'Nissa' means 'friendly elf', the sole reason I picked it. The more common spelling 'Nyssa' has a different meaning.
Also, I have no idea what pre-primary education (preschool/kindergarten/nursery school) is usually called in Irish English, I couldn't find anything helpful in Wikipedia, and don't actually know any Irish people to ask, so I picked what I felt was the least likely term to be misunderstood. If you're Irish (are there any of you in AF fandom?) feel free to correct me.