Onainat was staring at the stars. It was something she did when she camped with others--crawl under her blanket, lay completely still on her back and watch the clouds twist until the night sky became fully visible. When she was younger and fresh out of Clhen, she used to believe that she was playing a game with Lorien herself. Minaht told her stories of the gods when they traveled together along the cliffs of the East, fishing and watching ships come to harbor. There were some stories that she'd never heard from her father and that had surprised her at the time. Onainat never forgot the things Minaht said about the gods. She didn't always think on her mother, but without her, Onainat wouldn't be able to play with Lorien at all. Perhaps that was blasphemous? Playing games with a goddess...she wondered what Leironuoth would think of that. And if he would still carve pretty things for her if he knew. In the game, Onainat got so quiet that she became part of the earth. When the Heavens didn't think she was paying attention any more, the stars would shine brighter. Constellations took their true shapes while their goddess walked among them, not knowing that a lowly dragon was spying. She felt so clever, seeing all of the gems in the sky in secret.
It was a beautiful game.
Onainat loved games. Two thousand something years, many battles, and she still enjoyed playing with things. With people. With stars. She played a similar game with her father when she was little. They were always together, which made it difficult to get into trouble when she really wanted to, so she began to watch him watch her. Eventually, she could tell when he wasn't watching her. It was a hard sport. She never truly became a master because he so often figured out what she was up to, but Onainat liked to believe she was at least proficient at it. Sometimes.
He was watching her right now. She was watching him back whenever he looked down at the ocarina, but she didn't think he noticed that yet. Perhaps he had. It was hard to tell. Her father was a mysterious man...
And Ilyien slept rather loudly. At least, lately he did. Onainat smiled to herself. It was bizarre. He was so quiet when he was awake. Ilyien could be as sneaky as she was, if he weren't so honorable all of the time. She always thought he would have made a great partner in hide-and-seek, but doubted he had this form when he was young. Did the Phoenix play games like that when they were children? Were they ever children? She would have to ask him sometime when he was in a good mood. Talking about his people seemed to hurt him.
For now there was his snoring. And her father's eyes.
Her father and Ilyien were very much alike, she realized. She never talked about the Phoenix with Ilyien and never brought up Dragons to her father. Both carried regrets like sacks of bricks--though they managed those bricks differently--and neither liked to talk about the sadness in their eyes. Today had been a terrible day, which was part of the reason she'd started up her game with the heavens. She'd been impulsive and gotten herself into trouble...and her father killed for her.
Onainat was grateful for him, of course she was! But she worried. She worried because her father hated violence--both seeing it and practicing it. Part of her wished she had went ahead and defended herself, but she knew it would break his heart to see her kill. Even if she had done it in the past, she didn't speak of it to him. She didn't regret her actions enough, didn't hate herself enough...she didn't know if he'd forgive her. In that way, she supposed, she agreed with her mother's lifestyle.
It was hard to bring her up to him.
Maybe that's why this awkward game of I'm-not-paying-attention-to-you stretched on for so very long. Onainat was losing, she knew, but it was difficult to find a way to end it with grace. None of her thoughts were good silence breakers. Killing, Minaht...playing games with holy beings...
When he spoke to the sleeping Ilyien, she saw her chance. "The note was a little on the sharp side," Onainat said. She looked from the sky to meet her father's eyes. She was amused. "You'll never get him to sing, but he has a good ear."