This just randomly popped into my head. Damian's about to get a taste of his own medicine XD

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He had thought she was gone.

When Diana had never come back from taking their two year old daughter on a visit to Themyscira, Bruce had been out of his mind with worry. He had finally come to his senses and taken the Javelin 7 to the island himself, only to come across a horrifying sight. Dead bodies of the Amazons had been littered across the shore, not a single living female warrior in sight.

Bruce had forced himself to keep going, hoping and praying that Diana and Celeste were still alive. His breath hitched in his throat when he saw the princess' body at the foot of the castle. He remembered numbly crawling towards her, knowing that she was already gone yet not wanting to believe it. He had checked for a pulse; nothing. He held her body close to him, burying his face in her hair.

Bruce had never found his daughter's body, but who knew what had happened to her? Perhaps she had been thrown in the ocean or her body just wasn't- he shuddered at the thought. He had lost two parents, a wife, and daughter in one lifetime and he didn't think his heart could take anymore. Both Celeste and Diana were gone and he would just have to live with that.

Or so he thought.

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Damian didn't know how it happened.

His father had left for "League business," as he had put it, but the teenager knew it was more than that. His father had been more or less out of it, almost fidgety and, dare he say it, nervous. There was something about this particular mission, but what?

He got his answer when his father showed up in the Cave with a girl. A girl no older than eight with long black hair and big blue eyes. But those eyes held a certain type of look in them; something that he was very familiar with. He knew that look because he himself had had that same look five years ago. "Who is this?" he asked, studying the girl who seemed to be studying him right back.

"This is Celeste," his father introduced. "Your sister."

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They did not like each other.

In fact, Celeste didn't seem to like anyone. She kept her head held high and her eyes an icy blue, only talking to anyone when she saw no other option. But as she was indifferent with Bruce and Alfred, she was cold to Damian. At first, he couldn't figure out why, but then it dawned on him; that was the same coldness he had given Grayson when he first arrived.

But it was for a different reason. Damian hadn't liked Grayson because his father obviously like his adopted son better than his biological one. Celeste didn't like him because she saw him as her replacement. He had been living her life in her stead.

Damian had looked through his father's files on her in the Cave. She had been two when she was taken; her mother had brought her on a trip to her home island, (Themyscira he found it was called) when it was attacked. His father had presumed her to be dead, only to find her in Tartarus. Apparently the ruler, Hades, was her grandfather. He had kidnapped her and trained her as his sole heir, planning to use her to take over Olympus.

He was shocked at how similar their backgrounds were. Still, that didn't mean he had to like the child. Actually, he found her to be quite irritating. Why? Simple, the same reason Because she was obviously Bruce's favorite between the two of them.

His father was a very hard man to read, even for him. But he didn't miss how his eyes lit up ever so slightly when his half-sister walked into a room. Or how his voice was always a tad more gentle when he spoke to her.

Damian didn't doubt that his father loved him. Their relationship was rough, but they respected and cared for each other enough. His father adored, almost doted, on Celeste. It's like she had done it without even trying. And for that, Damian was sure that they were not brother and sister; just two individuals who happened to share a father and last name.

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Damian was thoroughly annoyed when he was woken up in the middle of the night to the sound of light whimpering. He groaned, forcing himself out of bed and dragged himself to the room next to his, Celeste's bedroom. He shoved the door open where he found the eight year old clutching her sheets, tears streaming down her face.

Damian rolled his eyes and shook her; not rough enough to actually hurt her, but not too gently either. "Wake up, brat," he ordered.

Celeste opened her eyes and stared at him coldly. "What do you want?" she demanded. She had a thick Greek accent. "And why are you in my room?"

Damian glared back. "I just awoke you from a nightmare, you ungrateful cretin."

Celeste sat up quickly, her nostrils flaring. "How dare you! I am the Princess of the Amazons and the heir to Tar-" Damian took her by the wrist and forced her out of her room. "Let me go, urchin! My grandfather will hear of this, you'll be sorry!"

Damian kept his eyes forward. "Your grandfather's stuck in hell." God, had he been this bad? No wonder Drake hated him. They finally arrived to the kitchen. "Sit down."

Celeste looked outraged. "I will no-"

"Sit. Down."

The stared each other down defiantly before Celeste finally relented and sat at the table. "Now what?" she demanded.

Damian ignored her and took out a box from the cabinet. He took out to packets and put some water on the stove to boil. Once it was hot enough, he poured the contents of the package into each mug and then poured the water into each mug. He stirred inside the cup and finally took a strange looking can out of the refrigerator. He put pressure on the nozzle and out came white, frothy stuff.

Damian held the mug out to her. "Here."

Celeste took the mug. "What is this?" she asked suspiciously. "Poison?"

Damian rolled his eyes. "No, it's hot chocolate."

Celeste tilted her head. "What's chocolate?" she asked seriously.

Of course there wouldn't be chocolate in Tartarus, there hadn't been with the League of Assassins either. He had never even tried any until Grayson had made him. "It's made from this plant picked in South America called Cocoa Beans. Here in America, they process it and make chocolate," Damian told her. "And the stuff on top is whipped cream. It's soft and feels weird, but it's satisfying to taste."

Celeste looked cautiously at the drink before sticking her tongue out to touch the whipped cream. Her eyes widened at the taste and she finally gathered enough courage to take a sip. She looked star struck and kept sipping until it was gone.

Damian smirked. "Good?"

Celeste nodded. "Nai polý kalá," she agreed in Greek. For a second, Damian saw an eight year old girl and not a deadly Amazon soldier. Maybe there was hope for her yet.

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Damian jumped slightly when the door to Celeste's bedroom slammed shut. She had been in a foul mood for about a week and he had been meaning to talk to her about it. He found this as his chance when he slipped up the stairs and to her room. Damian didn't bother knocking as he opened her door, finding her tearing off her shoes and throwing one against her closet door.

"Mahla!" shouted Damian in Arabic.

Celeste turned to him, murder in her eyes, before she threw her other shoe at his head. "Fýge!" she shouted.

Damian dodged it (narrowly, she had a good arm) before lifting her up in his arms and sitting her on her bed. "Hadith," he ordered.

Celeste crossed her arms stubbornly. "I don't want to."

"Too bad. I'm not giving you a choice."

The stared at each other defiantly. "It's the children at my school," she revealed finally. "They keep taunting me about my accent and how I don't know all of their 'ways.' And they call me a nerd because I'm in the advanced classes for math and literature."

Damian nodded, taking this information in. He awkwardly put his arm around her shoulders - it was what Grayson would do. "Calm yourself, 'ukhti alsaghira. They are not worth it. They are only envious."

Celeste scoffed. "They are not envious," she insisted. "They simply do not like me."

Damian looked at her seriously. "Who wouldn't be jealous of a princess?" he challenged.

"They don't know that I'm a princess," Celeste pointed out.

"No," admitted Damian. "but a real princess need not be announced. People, either consciously or subconsciously know when a princess is in their presence. A true princess' soul is good and everyone can see it." That was something similar to what Grayson would say, right?

"Then I am not a princess because I am not good."

"You're a good kid," Damian insisted. "A spoiled brat sometimes, but still a good kid."

Celeste smiled at him (for the first time ever) before leaning in slightly to his chest. "Thank you, megálos aderfós," she whispered softly.

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Nai polý kalá=Yes, very good (Greek)

Mahla=Hey (Arabic)

Fýge=Go away (Greek)

Hadith=Talk (Arabic)

'Ukhti alsaghira=Little sister (Arabic)

Megálos aderfós= Big brother (Greek)

I've been wanting to do this for a while. I hope you enjoyed, and please, do review.