Netahiln was staring.

Well, she ought to stare! Natron had worked hard to be able to do this, and she was glad it had turned out so impressive. She hadn't really expected it to be so dramatic, the actual process, but if it worked, that's all she cared about. Though she hadn't meant to turn off the holo in the process, it was a nice side-effect. Hopefully she hadn't broken it.

But, no matter how heady and gratifying it was to be looked at like that, Netahiln's staring was a bit unhelpful when it came to a conversation.

::I'm still me,:: she grumbled at the furry dragon.

::Just not a baby,:: Netahiln added, still mostly hidden behind her armchair.

::Exactly,:: she agreed, nodding, and twisting a little to look herself over. No wonder she was staring: she looked pretty damn good, if she said so herself.

::What the hell happened to your legs?:: Netahiln asked roughly, now staring at her forelimbs.

::Huh?:: Natron sat back on her haunches and lifted the limbs in question. ::Oh. Wow, look at that. I've got some pretty bones.::

::You really oughtn't be seeing your bones at all, pretty or not!:: Netahiln pointed out tersely.

::It's not like it hurts,:: Natron shrugged. ::And you can't even get at them; there's still flesh there, it's just see-through.:: She prodded at her own palm to demonstrate. She still felt it, even though it looked like there was only the filmy glow between claw and bones.

::And glowing,:: Netahiln added, peering a bit more from behind her chair.

::Well, most of me does that,:: Natron snorted. She had more of the green fire burning around her neck and on her tail, and her wings were like big beacons of green light. Even the claws on her more mundane hind paws glowed faintly green. Glowing aside, in fact, she was such a burnished yellow, with a brassy, metallic sheen, that she caught any other light and reflected it back: not only did she glow, but she was shiny, too. And she was very nearly as tall as Netahiln, herself, just like she'd hoped she'd be. There was no way anyone would miss her, would not look at her, looking like this.

::You are the most flamboyant little spy-thing I've ever seen,:: Netahiln commented sourly, apparently following the same train of thought, only with less delight and more annoyance.

::I'm not little anymore,:: Natron reminded her, still gazing at the bones of her hand. ::And I can always make another shape for spying, or just go in spirit.::

::You're a shape-shifter, too?::

::Well, how else did I do this?:: Natron snorted.

Netahiln glared at her. ::So you're not really grown up?::

::Of course I am,:: she shot back, stung. ::But it's just... like... another shape-shift. A really hard one. My mother made it possible, but it took all this time to learn how to do.::

Blinking, Netahiln said, ::Is that what you've been working on all this time?::

Natron felt she had the right to be a little nasty, after being yelled at, mocked, and insulted. ::A bit slow, are we?::

The dragon stood up at last and growled at her. ::How was I supposed to know, brat?:: she demanded, fur bristled and eyes glowing, as if trying in her own feeble way to mimic a godling. ::You never told me anything! You never told me this was possible, or that you were planning on waltzing up to Habithi and challenging him, or that you had a plan at all! How the hell am I supposed to guess something like that? How the hell am I supposed to trust you at all when you act all mysterious and shit? Huh?::

::Don't talk to me like that!:: Angrily, Natron's fire flared again, hot and bright, and Netahiln flinched. Encouraged, briefly reveling in being able to intimidate even the fierce dragoness with her new-found appearance, she took a step closer, burned a bit hotter, growled angrily. But Netahiln didn't duck away this time.

::Trying to make me run for cover again?:: she asked, narrowing her eyes against the glare. Her voice was low, but uncomfortably audible, anyway. ::You like scaring people, girl? Is that it? Like the rush? The way it feels having a grown dragon cowering behind the furniture from you? Does it make you feel powerful?::

That wasn't something she'd expected to hear. Not coming from Netahiln, and not with that kind of chill in her voice. Her fire shrank back and she glowered. ::You're one to talk.::

Netahiln grinned a little, but it wasn't particularly friendly, more a small show of fang than anything else. ::Sure, kid, you keep telling yourself you're better than me while you threaten me.::

::I'm a deity!:: Natron protested, but it sounded weak even in her own ears. Deity or not, it didn't give her the right to get heady with her own power and use it poorly. But dammit, she was her mothers' daughter, and she deserved more respect than that! 

::Oh, yes, that makes it much better,:: Netahiln told her scornfully. ::A deity, with all the power and arrogance that goes with it. Keep that up, and maybe Habithi'll take you in as a little protege. His sense of entitlement is pretty big, too.::

That got her fire to flare again. ::Never.::

Netahiln looked her up and down, then settled her own fur and came around the chair, passing her without a second glance. ::Better figure out your methods, then, kid, before you wind up just like him.::

Her bedroom door shut behind her, leaving a now full-grown Natron sitting in the living room and feeling an uncomfortable mixture of disappointment, anger, and shame. That hadn't gone like she'd planned, at all. If Netahiln had been impressed, it hadn't lasted long, and she certainly hadn't seemed pleased. She hadn't told her she'd done well-- not that she'd seriously expected praise, but maybe she'd hoped, a little. She certainly hadn't given in and let her go through with her plan to confront Habithi, though now that she'd heard Netahiln's arguments, she didn't think it was quite as good of an idea, even if she'd wanted so badly to give him something to be frightened of. It made her even more angry to think that Netahiln was probably right-- even more disappointed to think that she probably wouldn't meet Habithi face to face for a long time-- even more ashamed to think she'd been acting like a fool, sticking by a stupid plan, making such a stupid plan. She was a godling, dammit. She was supposed to be doing things right.

And who was Netahiln to be telling her not to threaten people? Netahiln was as nasty and fierce as they came, and prided herself in that fact; she threatened people daily!

Well, all right, maybe not daily. And, Natron had to admit, most of the people she threatened either deserved it or could take care of themselves. And she did it to support herself-- or, more likely, to support Natron, since she hadn't had to work as hard until Natron came to live with her and mooch off her-- rather than because it was fun or she enjoyed it. Though maybe she did enjoy it; Natron didn't really know. She wasn't rude enough to sift around in Netahiln's thoughts without permission-- she hadn't gotten that puffed up with her own importance, yet-- or stupid enough. Netahiln wasn't a deity, but she was powerful, anyway, and Natron liked the idea of working together with her more than working separately. Despite it all, she liked Netahiln, and had looked forward to being equals-- or as close to equals as a godling and a half-chaos could be-- instead of being Netahiln's lesser until she grew up.

Which meant, she realized unhappily, dealing with the fact that she'd just frightened her badly on accident, attempted to do the same thing on purpose, threatened her, and reminded her that she wasn't exactly an angel, either. Or a deity. Unlike her bond-- and her housemate. For as long as the latter lasted, now....

Well, damn. She really had messed up, hadn't she? Godlings weren't supposed to mess up, dammit. What was the point of being immortal if you were fallible? You just had more time to make mistakes in, and more power to make bigger mistakes.

That wasn't fair, at all.

Chapter Seventeen

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