Reviews make me happy just so you know. Heads up Sean's going to be a real jerk soon and Izzy well; this is the royals we're talking about. Please r&r and bear with me. Just the first chapter was third person the rest will be alternating first person.
Izzy's POV
"A grimm of royal blood?" Bonaparte asked after three seconds ringing silence.
"Yes," was all Sean said.
"How old is she?"
"Seventeen," Sean answered.
"She is but a child," Bonaparte noted.
"I'm not a child and stop talking about me like I'm not here," I cut in. Sean slapped me across the back of the head. I rubbed my head and glared at my brother.
"A child with no manners," Bonaparte continued, still addressing Sean.
"I have no manners?! You're the one who's talking about me like I'm not two feet in front of you!" I yelled.
"Izzy, for your own good, shut up!" Sean ordered.
"No," was all I said. I knew it was pure spite that made me say it. There was nothing else I actually wanted to say at the moment, I just didn't want Sean thinking I was about to take his orders.
"We can't keep a Grimm we can't control and this one seems downright feral," mused Bonaparte, looking at Sean.
"Don't worry I know exactly how to make her heel," Sean reassured.
"I'm not a stray puppy! Stop ignoring me!" I yelled, now truly upset, they were discussing me not only as if I were not there but as if I was some kind of animal. My words did no good as a matter of fact; they did the opposite, since my brother clapped his hand over my mouth. I promptly tried to bite him but his hand was too big for me to be able to.
"For god's sake, Izzy, I'm trying to keep you alive. So do what I tell you to and shut up!" Sean angrily hissed in my ear.
"I will require proof that you can handle this one, Sean," said Bonaparte.
"What would you like me to do?" my brother asked.
"There is no royalty here and she needs discipline. Improve her attitude, remind her of her manners, and teach your sister her place. Since the two of you share a father I can only assume you know the best discipline methods to use with her," responded Bonaparte. Then he simply turned and walked away. He had no idea the effect his words had on us.
We must have been quite a sight Sean and I, a six foot five man and a five foot six girl, both of us identical green eyes wide as we stared after him. Not to mention Sean had of his arm wrapped around my waist and the opposite hand over my mouth and we had both gone stock-still. Apparently Bonaparte did not know the methods our father employed to ensure his children's obedience, especially when it came to his half-zauberbeist son and Grimm daughter.
Sean recovered first and took his hand off my mouth and removed his arm from my waist, only to grab the collar of my jacket.
"I'm not going to run off the second you let go of me Sean. Unless you try to treat me like Erik did, then I make no promises," I said, quietly. Predictably, my brother did not release.
"We need to talk, Izzy," he said as he led me up the stairs. I knew what he wanted to talk about and I knew this was not going to be an enjoyable conversation.
Sean's POV
I hauled my little sister up the stairs considering how to handle this. Izzy was seventeen and just like a lot of teenagers she seemed to have gone from my sweet baby sister to a ball of angry hormones. I dragged her to one of the guest rooms, opened the door, released Izzy by violently shoving her inside, walked in myself, and closed the door. Izzy had tumbled to the ground when I'd shoved her, she was climbing onto her feet and glaring daggers at me.
I opened my mouth to speak and silver throwing star flew within a centimeter of my ear and imbedded itself in the wall behind me. I shot a furious look at Izzy; she had two more in each hand.
"What the hell was that?!" I demanded, "Are you actually trying to kill me?"
"If I had wanted it to hit you, Sean, it would have. Put your hands on me again and I throw the rest. And I won't miss," she threatened.
I took an angry step towards her, reaching for her, and a throwing star sank into my shoulder. I pulled it out. Izzy had failed to realize that if she threw all her weapons at me; I would live and be even more upset with her than I already was. Regardless I didn't feel like taking another cut so I spoke instead.
"If you had behaved this way in front of Father he would've beaten you within an inch of your life. Which is exactly what I will do to you if you don't stop this," I threatened, then I held out my hand, "I want any and all weapons you have and that backpack you're carrying." I watched Izzy try to decide she had paled when I had threatened to beat her. I knew she'd comply she just needed to hurry up and do it already.
At long last, she shrugged off her backpack and handed it to me, along with her throwing stars, and pulled out all her concealed weapons and surrendered them as well. Thank god for it, I knew I couldn't follow through on my threat and beat her like Father would have. I believe in discipline and had no reservation about using corporal punishment but our father had been abusive, cruel even. Something I had never wanted to become.
"Okay, Izzy, why are you here?" I asked calmly as I removed my now-ruined suite jacket and button-up shirt, leaving myself clad in just the white t-shirt I wore underneath. The cut was small and shallow, luckily. Izzy hadn't answered me yet, like me she was assessing her injuries. She had taken off her black leather jacket and green hoodie to reveal a black tank top and livid purple bruises.
Trying to ignore the twinge of guilt at the sight of the bruises I assessed my sister. I hadn't seen her since she was fifteen and she'd grown. She looked to be about a foot shorter than I was, so 5' 5" or 5' 6", her hair dark like mine and Erik's and all of our siblings' was fell almost to her waist and curled in a slightly unkempt manner, her eyes were the same shade of green as mine (again like Erik and several of our siblings'). She didn't look quite healthy though her skin had always been very fair but even I could see she was paler than normal, she was too skinny, she had large dark marks under her eyes, and the bruises were far from her only injuries. She had half-healed claw marks down one arm and a black bruise on her collarbone.
Resisting the urge to ask her when she'd last slept or eaten a decent meal I demanded my answer, "I asked you a question, Isolde. I expect an answer."
"I need your help, Sean," she said, surprising me.
"With what, Izzy?" I asked, tired of not getting complete answers.
"Viktor wants to kill Adalind Schade, Nick Burkhardt, Hank Griffin, Drew Wu, Martin Meisner, Rosalee Calvert, Eddie Monroe, and you. I'm not an assassin and I don't kill Kershiete or Grimms or Wesen that haven't done anything wrong. So, unless you count manhandling your sister, everyone on that list fits into at least one of those categories. And he also wants me to kidnap a Grimm named Theresa Rubel," she told me.
I started trying to process what she had told me, only on question made its way through the haze though, "What does Viktor want with Theresa Rubel?"
"That's where this gets really interesting, turns out she's our sister," Izzy continued before I could pick my jaw up off the ground, "And Nick Burkhardt's."
