The Immortal Dream

Papyrus strolled through the doors of the exhibition lounge like he owned the place, wearing an air that if he was late, it was everyone else's fault for not adjusting to his schedule. But the room was empty. He had gotten there first.

"Well, that takes care of one problem," he declared as the others shuffled in behind him, Floria and Senescey glancing around as if searching for traps. "Our food isn't here yet. After how insistent I was about its timely delivery, I don't think we'd ever have heard the end of it."

Senescey raised an eyebrow at him. "In the old days, that would have been a plus for you."

Papyrus yawned dismissively. "Yes, I suppose it would..."

The room shook from a gust of wind, its shudder almost indistinguishable from the roll of thunder. The sound of rain against the window redoubled in Papyrus's ears.

As he stared out at the darkness, his back to the stage, Cherrabell appeared beside him, her belly hanging heavily between her legs. "You don't have a very high opinion of your own character," she remarked.

"Eh?" Papyrus glanced at her.

"I have a question for you," Cherrabell said. "I've already decided I'd rather take a chance on your team. What you say won't change that, so be honest. Why don't you act like the leader?"

Papyrus blinked. "Take a chance on us, you say?" He nodded at Senescey. "Funnily enough, it's because she asked me to do the same."

"What does that mean?" Cherrabell didn't wait for an answer before continuing. "You're clearly a noble. And you're this group's only stallion; it's clear what's going on here. Whoever you are, you've even managed to land a sphinx in your harem. A race everyone thought was extinct. Even Gawain can't do that."

"Excuse me-" Floria began indignantly.

"I want to hear it from you," Cherrabell interrupted, focused solely on Papyrus. "I know how this works and what I'm signing up for. But when you talk, your tone is at odds with your words. You speak carelessly and say odd things that sabotage your point, just like Gawain, as if you've never been made to regret your words or watch your tongue. But you also make it sound like you do regret ways you've behaved before, and you let your subjects speak of your past in ways that disparage you. Why? I don't understand why you don't act more proud of your ability to set the rules."

Papyrus grinned. "If that's the part that doesn't make sense, I'm afraid you've misread a lot more of this situation than you think you have. Tell me, out of this 'harem' of mine, how many have you seen me wearing like decorative scarves?"

Cherrabell frowned.

"Let me tell you," Papyrus carried on, "were I to actually try that, I'd count myself lucky if even a single one didn't attempt to punt me through that window for it. Floria, would you care to demonstrate for the good lady's educational benefit?" He nodded aside at the storm.

"You are inviting me to throw you out a window," Floria confirmed, skeptical. "One beyond which there is a raging storm at present. All for the sake of proving a point."

Papyrus winked. "Come on, it'll be educational!"

Without asking any further questions, Floria padded up and slapped him across the face with a wing.

"That ought to serve the same function," she said, walking away without a second glance. "Ruined carpets are one thing, but I'd rather not be indebted to our hosts for breaking such a large pane of glass. Next time, try to make your arguments in a way that don't require me as a prop."

Papyrus wiped his face off with a wing of his own, and offered Cherrabell a winning grin. "See how little coaxing that took?"

Cherrabell looked openly baffled.

"You have the right of it about my noble heritage," Papyrus admitted. "But you'd be wrong to assume these are my minions, or that I've had but a single tryst with any one of them. Shockingly ignoble, I know."

Cherrabell frowned. "What about your heirs?"

"Don't have any, don't need any." Papyrus shrugged. "Not from them or you or anyone else. This world has too many nobles anyway without me making more. As an aside, I realize this was normal back in the Empire and probably is around here too, but have you ever thought about how gross that question is?"

Cherrabell blinked, her footing completely lost in the conversation.

"Now you're getting it," Papyrus encouraged. "Who wants to be reduced to a link on a family tree? Oh dearie me, I barely even pass for an adult and it's already time to throw in the towel on my life, nothing left to do but leave it up to the next generation... Whatever 'it' is, I'll do it myself, thank you very much. You know how it is, right? That's why you were asking after our ship!"

"Yes," Cherrabell admitted, her original point faring worse than a leaf in the storm that was beating against the mansion - whatever it had been in the first place. Papyrus couldn't remember.

"Excellent," he proclaimed, making up an out. "Now, you look as if your mind is rolling freely around on the floor, so I'll leave you to pick it up in peace."

A flash of lightning punctuated his point, offering the perfect dramatic timing to flick his tail, turn around, and stroll confidently over to the couch Senescey had chosen.

"Well said," Senescey muttered as he plopped down beside her. "If you were trying to remind me yet again why I hate the aristocracy. Papyrus, I appreciate that you're trying to make a break with the past and turn your life around, but you keep doing it in a way that makes me question whether I'm right to give up on fighting this."

"Like it or not, we've already made a vague promise to clean up around here," Papyrus quietly replied. "I don't frankly know what life after vigilantism looks like either, but who would blame us for falling short of a perfect cold quit? Unlike last time, ending this griffon's career won't require risking our souls or doing anything more than smashing what's in front of us. And that was our primary reason for abandoning the Empire, wasn't it?"

Senescey just nodded.

"...Then what can I do in return?" Cherrabell called, standing by the window after a long minute of silence save for the storm.

Papyrus raised an eyebrow, and everyone else regarded her too.

"I told you, I've never been to school," Cherrabell continued. "I don't have useful work experience or talents. All I know how to do is look good and clean and have children. I know you said you have your own reasons for helping me, and maybe they're not based on anything I can do for you. But that's the whole reason I'm desperate here in the first place! Gawain ensures I want for nothing, but there's nothing I can do here that means anything. I'm not simple. I understand what charity is. But if you're really trying to help me without looking for anything in return, I'd want to pay you back anyway. And you just said you don't want any of the three things I have to offer. Not that that's surprising, just-"

Floria gave Felicity a conspicuous nudge. "I believe you're an expert on providing answers to this dilemma?"

Felicity looked helplessly awkward, her wings suddenly tied. "Well, darling, your... your frame of mind..."

"Alright, fine, I'll handle this," Papyrus groaned, earning a rude look from Floria as he stepped in to rescue his former retainer. "You want to pay us back, do something we'll appreciate? Here's an idea: give us all the gossip on the Empire." He flashed her a politician's grin. "You schmoozed with royalty during Everlaste's short-lived reign, didn't you say? Surely those with first-hoof experience inside the palace from so many years ago have stories you can't hear anywhere else."

Cherrabell's face brightened in earnest hope. "That's all worth something to you? I-I was the queen's wingmaid! She confided things in me she might not have told another soul, so I could definitely do that! If that would pay you back, or just entertain you, I have enough for a whole month of talking!"

Papyrus clapped his wings together. "Fantastic, because it's a very long flight back-"

The door swung open, and two grifflets pulling a large trolley stumped their way into the room.

"Everyone? Your meal," Glyce declared, taking stock of the room. "Is everyone sitting where they would like to be served?"

Papyrus patted his couch with a nod. "Kid," he said, "I can't very well reprimand you for entering without knocking when it's your own home, but take it from me that's an excellent way to see things you won't be able to forget."

"Then I should hope you would think twice before doing anything unforgettable in my father's home," Glyce replied, pulling the trolley closer and stopping to arrange the coffee table in front of Papyrus's couch.

"No offense," Glyre added, "but you seem pretty forgettable."

Floria leered at her. "You are a small child and for that I shall avoid proving you wrong, but you really ought to know better than to issue dares like that."

"A dare born of experience, I'm afraid," Glyce told her, unstacking steaming dishes in front of Papyrus that really did smell quite good. "We have seen things the likes of which you could only fathom."

"Like Dad out of his armor," Glyre deadpanned, unstacking a tray. "Scarred for life..."

Papyrus nodded along. "Ever ran a goddess clean through with a longsword, then watched her completely ignore it and disintegrate your sister?"

Glyce blinked.

"Yes, I'd hazard a guess you've never been nailed to the ground by a spike through your ear either," Papyrus mused. "How about pirates? What's the most pirates you've ever killed in a single night, directly or indirectly? Captured any noteworthy frigates?"

"You're clearly bluffing," Glyce pointed out. "Perhaps you've heard of people who, lacking credibility, claim to have done these things, but if your ear ever was nailed to the ground it would have left a most visible scar."

"Oh, this?" Papyrus rubbed at his once-ruined ear with a hoof. "It got better when I was reincarnated. Lost all the other old battle scars that way too."

Glyce gave him a searching look. "...Right. Perhaps I shall return to serving your food ere it cools off. Cherrabell! Come sit down, I made sure to bring your absolute favorite...!"

Papyrus leaned back heavily on his couch. "Garsheeva's breath, it feels weird to joke about Lyn like that," he whispered softly to himself. "Am I truly getting over it?"

"Guess you are," Senescey said, sitting close enough that she could still hear.

For a moment, Papyrus tuned the rest of the world out. He could still remember it clearly, that awful minute when Crystal became Chrysalis and murdered Lyn purely to spite him. Once, that vision had consumed him, superimposed across his every moment, clouding his thoughts and locking him inside a kaleidoscope in his head, until he mistook others for his sister and the passage of time had no meaning. Even after he had been reborn, it sometimes haunted him in his nightmares, and the only thing that had ever truly helped was seeing the new Lyn: reincarnated right after him, his new old sister, mercifully free from the perfect recollection of her past that he had somehow been saddled with.

But was that changing again? Freed from his questions about Starlight's intent for him, surrounded by associates he had chosen to associate with for no material benefit, telling others off for having too little self-worth... Papyrus found that he really had just joked about the past. The painful parts.

Huh. Granted, he had stumbled into this by accident, but if he could keep doing it, maybe trying to clean this place up would have other intangible benefits, too.

More footsteps sounded from the hallway, and Papyrus's reflexes were too sharp to let him remain lost in thought. So he looked up.

It was Gawain.

"My guests!" he greeted jovially, his resplendent armor much more visible now that he wasn't literally covered in mares. "I heard that you were taking repast, and hope you don't mind that I thought to join you. A host's duty must ever be to his guests' entertainment, after all!"

Internally, Papyrus groaned, and he noted Floria hiding her paws conspicuously beneath a table. How was this going to go? A confrontation was all but inevitable if they were going to steal away one of Gawain's consorts, and doubly so if they wanted to change the way things were done at this mansion. But couldn't they benefit from at least enough time to coordinate a strategy?

On the other hoof, he had always been a professional ad-libber... Either way, it was exceedingly unlikely they could make it all the way through a dinner party without someone doing something suspicious. His teammates were keen; they had to know that too. Something going down here was inevitable; the only question was who would shoot first.

"No, you're quite welcome," Felicity invited, wearing a friendly and professional manner. "I hope you don't mind that we've been getting to know the members of your household?"

"Mind? Far from it." Gawain strolled over to where Cherrabell was standing and kissed her on the ear. "Lady Cherrabell is one of my favorite wives. If you've come into her company, it can only be because you have exceptional tastes in socialization... not that I grant residency here to any bad options."

"Right," Senescey said, sitting next to Papyrus.

Gawain nibbled coyly on Cherrabell's ear. "Have they been suitably entertained by your gravid ruminations, my sweet?" He reached a talon around and hefted her belly. "Mmm! Taut as a drum, just the way I like it. Come, let us eat before the food grows cool! A spread like this ought to be enough to add a whole inch to your circumference, no?"

Floria choked on her drink. "Forgive my foreign sensibilities, but is this actually acceptable in these parts?"

"You take issue with me lavishing attention on my dearest in public?" Gawain chuckled, seating himself next to Cherrabell. "Rest assured, I would book no complaints if you had someone on which to do the same. Relationships like ours pay dividends, and why should she be embarrassed about that?"

"Mhmm," said Floria, nodding neutrally. "Perhaps under normal circumstances. But at present, your dearest is delivering a baby."

Gawain wrapped a wing around her, playing with her belly. "So I can feel! And at such a strenuous time, how could some extra pampering and comfort go amiss?" He kissed her cheek, then reached for the table with a spare talon. "Now, what delights have we here...?"

"Fascinating," Floria said, strumming her claws... before suddenly breaking into an approving nod. "Well, that makes this much less awkward! I fancy her. What would you require to transfer her from your service to mine? Tonight, of course. Effective without delay."

Papyrus stifled a guffaw. Floria's distaste for decadence was visceral, yet as a sphinx, decadence was her birthright. Funnier was that Gawain appeared to fall for it, regarding her like he had just discovered a new friend... and then there was Felicity, looking like any parent who had just walked in on their daughter's secret wardrobe.

"You understand, of course?" Floria pressed. "I would rather not be flexible on the timing, due to the particulars of her situation."

"Candor after my own heart," Gawain praised. "But that's not a question I can answer, I'm afraid. Lady Cherrabell is my wife, not my servant. It is her heart you will need to sway in order to tempt her from my splendorous side."

Floria blinked, her plan to smuggle Cherrabell out in plain view suddenly derailed. "She is free to go whenever she pleases?"

"What cause do you find to assume otherwise?" Gawain asked earnestly. "Has Felicity not impressed upon you the value my culture places on mutually agreed-upon transactions? The right to conduct bargains is utterly sacrosanct. My many wives attend me by choice! Their act of choosing me is one of the greatest treasures I have on display, for it speaks to my kin how much more desirable I am than they are! If these lovely females graced my parlor by force, why, that would be egg upon the face of all I stand for."

Papyrus felt his jaw go slack as he pointed a slow hoof at Cherrabell. "Is he serious?"

Cherrabell looked slightly defensive. "Of course he is. Gawain treats everyone well. I just don't have anywhere else to go."

Gawain sighed in embarrassment. "And you believed differently? Unbelievable. That my carefully-honed presentation should come across so incorrectly..."

"You mean to tell me you do nothing to keep her here?" Floria pressed, incredulous. "She puts up with that of her own free will? Preposterous. Such treatment ought to be worth at least three airships filled with bits."

"Such 'treatment' is the finest luxury the realm can offer," Gawain countered, dismissing her with a wave. "I have this many wives as a direct result of how excellent of a partner I am, and their voluntary presence here is a long-standing testament to that. Who else in all of Griffonstone can provide such a standard of pampering and bliss, lives free from violence and poverty and effort? And the significance, oh! Do you realize how little an existence in the city proper will ever amount to? But here, just by being seen in my presence, they augment my power and contribute to my glorious vision for the realm. Who could dream of a better deal?"

He chortled to himself, stroking Cherrabell's belly conspicuously. "All I ask in return is that they be the best of the best - I choose my favorites from among a large crowd of contenders, you see. But though I might be supreme as a suitor, all are always welcome to challenge me. If you think you can even attempt to compete, the prize is right here! Show her your best shot."

Gawain spread his wings wide, inviting criticism, and Papyrus saw too many attack vectors to possibly choose between. The griffon had doomed himself before the fight even began. Even when Papyrus was a god, he hadn't felt this powerful.

Cherrabell's eyes were shadowed. "I'd like to go with them, please."

Gawain blinked, and stopped stroking.

"To their ship," Cherrabell added. "Tonight. And... then to the rest of the world."

Gawain released her, recoiling against his couch in shock. "What?" he asked, utterly at a loss. "How? They... Did they blackmail you? If they did, you can be sure I will protect you..."

Cherrabell shook her head. "I asked them. When I heard they had a ship. I've wanted to go for years now."

Gawain slowly exhaled, a tiny, high-pitched whine at the back of his throat. "What is the meaning of this? Why?"

Felicity hesitantly folded her ears. "I don't quite know how to put this delicately, but does this really come as such a surprise?"

"I am a griffon of honor and my word," Gawain choked, smothered with disbelief. "You will take good care of her, will you not?"

Papyrus had to admit, if that was the first thing Gawain worried about... It raised his opinion of him a bit.

Not a lot. Especially with how suspect his idea of luxury appeared to be. Even old Gondolus Gyre could scarcely match Gawain's shamelessness in playing with his toys, and he never made the pretense of doing it for their sake. But it felt marginally more likely now that Gawain would learn something from a savage beatdown of a lecture, and there was a better ending to this than leaving him in ruins... Marginally.

"I do have experience as a doctor," Felicity reassured the stunned griffon. "She will not be wanting for medical care."

"I still don't understand," Gawain said, pulling his composure sloppily together. "You will at least remain long enough to partake of this feast, will you not? And I can't imagine you'll be flying out in this weather. Tell me, I... I must know what I am lacking. What holes have I overlooked in my offerings to my wives? What weakness did you find and exploit?"

Papyrus grinned. "You wouldn't happen to be asking for candor, would you? Because with your permission..."

"Preposterous. I have never lacked for candor!" Gawain shook his head, completely missing the point. "It couldn't be that! Could it?" He glanced uncertainly at Cherrabell. "H-Have I somehow ever failed to make known my appreciation for your presence?"

Cherrabell looked down.

"Gawain," Felicity said gently. "How often do you provide your wives with ready opportunities to leave? Not simply keeping the door unlocked, but offering to build them connections out in the broader world and sending them out with resources so they wouldn't find themselves utterly alone?"

"Opportunities?" Gawain tilted his head. "That's the entire goal of my mission here. Griffonstone has no opportunities, and I mean for my reign to change things so that there are some. As the Forest King, I take frequent jaunts to visit my territory, and often allow some of my wives to accompany me. They see how the commoners live with their own eyes! Isn't that right, Cherrabell? Didn't I just take you four-odd months ago?"

Cherrabell hugged herself. "But you make an effort to send our kids out into the world. Not just Griffonstone, but Equestria and beyond. You give them the connections they need to succeed, right?"

Gawain flushed. "Well, that comes with a very slim chance of success that only my genetic excellence puts them in reach of at all, but I, I mean... You want that? You realize they are going out to work for our cause, to toil and labor, not to enjoy lives of luxury among the chosen. Some of them are very likely destitute by now or have abandoned loyalty to our family altogether! What is the appeal in that?"

Cherrabell swallowed. "I'm bored."

"Bored?" Gawain frowned. "If that is the root of it, I am always eager to spend time with-"

"Surely you feel it too, Gawain," Felicity gently interrupted. "That gnawing sensation that your life here is amounting to nothing?"

Gawain looked up.

"You know what I'm referring to," Felicity said, her voice stronger and more ominous as she stood up. "That nagging feeling that you aren't doing enough, which you always chase away with the same fleeting pleasures as yesterday? As powerful as those pleasures are, they only ever last for minutes at a time, and try as you might to surround yourself with them, it doesn't stop that sense from returning. The feeling that your glory days are behind you, and that nothing you do here matters as much as it once did."

"With all due regard," Gawain retorted, indignant, "that very malaise has my country in a death grip and mine is the one true strategy that can hold it at bay! Envy of me and my wealth can spur my subjects to do better! Would you presume to lecture the master on his own dominion?"

"I would," Felicity said, standing strong. "Because it holds your household in just as strong a grip as the lands around you. What has anyone here to look forward to aside from that which they have today?"

"What they have today is the pinnacle of what money can-"

"It's almost like money isn't everything," Senescey deadpanned.

"Look at her," Felicity whispered. "Does she look content? Like this is enough? Where are your schools, Gawain? When was the last time anyone here learned something? Where are your builders? Your gyms, factories, parks and libraries - when was the last time someone translated their experience into action? When was the last time you ever learned from a mistake, or saw one of your wives do the same?"

Gawain shook his head, his crest heavily ruffled. "They don't make mistakes. I've freed them from that pain, along with their duties. Cherrabell, you remember, don't you? What your life was like before I rescued you and took you into my fold? Tell me I've somehow made things worse. I refuse to believe it."

Cherrabell stared at her food. "That's why I've never said anything," she mumbled. "Gawain does treat us well. We never want for anything. It's better than it used to be. And it was a good trade for a while. But what do I have to look forward to?"

"Warm baths?" Gawain suggested. "Good food? Time together with someone who has only your pleasure in mind?"

"It's been more than a decade," Cherrabell slowly said. "I don't even remember how many times I've been pregnant. So what will one more time change? One more meal, one more walk around the courtyard. What will be different about the next decade? I don't feel comfort anymore. Everything just feels the same. All I want is for something to change, even if it's for the worse."

Gawain was at a loss.

"Don't you feel the same?" Floria asked, taking her turn to step in. "You've been ruling for how many years now and still believe your country lacks even a single reason to engage with society? I believe that ought to be taken for what it is: a sign that your plans have failed and achieved nothing more than the passage of decades. A true ruler would adapt their philosophy and mindset when faced with unacceptable results."

"My plans operate on a longer timetable than you give me credit for," Gawain countered. "Children do not grow up overnight. If my offspring are to propagate my economic ideals and rejuvenate the realm-"

"How can you be satisfied with expecting your children to fix it!?" Floria burst out, cutting him off. "Why not do the job yourself? What's the point of living if your only meaningful act is to pass the torch to the next generation? 'Sorry, son, I couldn't achieve anything in my decades in power. Hope you do better.' Is that what you tell them? I thought griffons were famous for their pride."

Papyrus cleared his throat, happy to let Floria have her moment but determined to get in at least one snipe at the dogpiled griffon. "Having a rough time arguing, are we? You know, I can't speak to the soundness of any of these arguments, but spending your years in an enclave without opposition is an excellent way to let your rhetoric go to seed."

Floria nodded, too angry to pay attention to who she was agreeing with. "If you care about your ideals, then you should temper them against reality, lest they grow dull. My own ideals are tragically underdeveloped themselves, and I can say this has been a fantastic experience for getting in touch with my moral compass. But I don't need experience to know that the only thing keeping your wives here is sloth and inertia. If you want to make yourself actually attractive, try using what power you have for something that others want to be a part of. These justifications for sitting around and replicating all day are nothing more than excuses so you can feel less bad about doing nothing."

"There's more than just inertia," Larceny said, breaking her characteristic silence. "Do you know how hard it is to travel with infants?"

"The children here need us," Cherrabell added. "I haven't wanted to leave everyone else to do that on their own."

Gawain cleared his throat. "Listen, I know when I'm on the losing end of an argument. I've not had the chance to be ganged up on by orators in years, and I... I-I thank you for exposing this deficiency in my skill set. But aren't you being a little uncharitable in your victory laps? I am a male. How could I know what it is like to travel with infants?"

"By doing it?" Larceny raised an eyebrow. "What's your gender have to do with it?"

To Gawain, this suggestion clearly didn't add up.

"Do you take any responsibility as a father at all?" Floria asked. "Or do you actually expect your concubines to raise all these children completely by themselves?"

"You make it sound as if the resources I provide count for nothing," Gawain sputtered. "How many of our children do you think my wives could have had without my support? I do everything for them! I..." He shook his head. "Besides, they could always leave the children here..."

"Not if they're born on the road, I'm afraid," Felicity said, shaking her head. "Which raises another question that actually is a bit unfair: do you know how hard it is to travel while pregnant?"

"It's not that unfair," Larceny said. "You could ask your wives."

"Or us," Felicity added. "I believe among our number, we've had more than one glowing experience with the topic..."

Papyrus could see it in Gawain's eyes: he had lost yet again the moment he opened his mouth, and he knew it. And yet, like a slow-motion disaster reel, he couldn't stop himself from speaking once again.

"...Well, what's it... like?"

Felicity cleared her throat. "I spent the latter half of my time with Floria on enforced bed rest due to a deficiency with my lungs. I was forced to stay behind and watch my friends carry on without me halfway through our travels because I could no longer stomach the thin air experienced at airship cruising altitudes, and couldn't risk being caught on the road if any complications worsened. Before that point, I saw a precipitous drop in stamina and lost the ability to fly altogether shortly after I started showing. Trying to forge ahead on my own would have been utterly unthinkable."

She nodded at Larceny to take over.

"She had it good," Larceny said. "I had to go it alone. With an infant. You can't stow away when you have a crying foal on your back. You can't do work that would leave them unattended. You need twice as many supplies, because you have to feed them too, but can only carry half as many because you have to carry them instead. And some people who would otherwise let you tag along don't want the baggage of a kid." She shook her head. "I bought my way onto less-reputable ships and caravans with the only thing I had to offer. And it was only worth it for my kid. Wouldn't have been a point if I left her behind."

Gawain looked openly dubious. "Those sound like problems brought about by a lack of resources, a fate no wife of mine shall ever be made to suffer. Perhaps your maladies arose because you were not properly cared for? The stamina of my wives rarely even comes into question, properly outfitted with rest and relaxation as they are."

Papyrus tapped a hoof. "I believe the point is that roughing it alone on the road is anything but restful and relaxing?"

"Hence why they remain here," Gawain explained.

"Hence why they don't have as much of a choice as you say they do," Floria corrected.

This time, Cherrabell came to Gawain's defense. "It's really not that bad," she said, smiling awkwardly. "Having kids. I'm used to it."

"Cherrabell, darling," Felicity said. "Your labor has been stuck for a week. You were borderline desperate when we spoke. Perhaps you are desensitized to it, but you are not, in fact, alright."

Cherrabell shook her head, getting to her hooves. "I appreciate that you've helped me to say my part, but you're saying a lot more than I wanted to say. I don't hate Gawain. He has taken care of me, better than anyone in the Empire ever did, and despite me being able to do nothing in return except raising his family and accepting his attention. I'm not looking for you to fight over this. I just want to not do the same thing day after day after day."

For a moment, no one tried to press their points.

"This is something I'm good at," Cherrabell explained with a smile. "I don't mind if he flirts with me, or if I keep having kids. Gawain really did give me a better lot in life than I had back in the Empire." Her face grew solemn. "If that's how you experienced having kids, I guess that explains a lot, but I'm different. I'm fine with this. I want more I can do, not less. Look, watch this."

"Cherrabell, really-" Felicity stretched out a hoof.

But Cherrabell spread her wings, somehow got off the ground, and after a few shaky wing flaps executed the bulkiest and least-graceful backflip Papyrus had ever seen, her belly sticking out like a balloon as she struggled to see the motion through. She stumbled into a landing, puffing to catch her breath. "See? Being grounded as soon as you're showing isn't normal. Oof, settle down, baby. Mama only did that to make a point..."

"Darling," Felicity said sternly as Cherrabell's belly swayed in protest. "Are you really familiar enough with the alternatives to know what kind of toll this is taking on you? I used my Mistvale arts, I felt the state of your body. You're strained to the breaking point. Even though your vital signs are all good, I'm worried you could just suddenly give out, like has been happening this last week with your stuck labor. You are not in perfect health. I don't want you putting any more wear and tear on yourself until your vital spark recovers a little of its fervor. And that means not doing backflips during labor."

"That was actually kind of impressive," Larceny pointed out, keeping her voice low. "Couldn't have pulled that off with Ansel."

Papyrus blinked at her. "Really?" He shrugged, stood up, did a backflip and sat back down. "Because I can pull that off any day of the week."

"Stop-!" Felicity waved a wing at them, exasperated. "Both of you, knock it off! I want to get this grifflet out of Cherrabell, not convince it to stay in for another week!"

"I think that might actually have convinced it to come," Cherrabell wheezed, sitting on the floor and rubbing her belly with two hooves. "Oh boy, here we go..."

"Is what you said about her true, though?" Gawain asked, concerned. "I've made a point of wooing the best doctors Griffonstone has to offer, and even ignored homely looks to get them on my staff, but our medical institution is no more robust than our other tenets of society. If you possess insight that my doctors lack, then I implore you to use it! In fact, name your price for a comprehensive checkup on every member of my household. I will not cut corners on their well-being."

Felicity nodded. "I'm more than happy to discuss that, once I've seen Cherrabell through a safe delivery. Which, I might add, is the actual reason we are interested in spiriting her into our care tonight, contrary to my gregarious daughter's bluffing."

Gawain bowed. "Then please, by all means."

Felicity got up, walking over to Cherrabell. "Alright, then. How are you holding up?"

Cherrabell looked stiffly at her table, holding her belly, three mostly-empty platters sitting as a testament to how much she had put away while the others were arguing. "...Well, whatever you did worked for an hour."

"Small wonder, given what you just did," Felicity replied. "You've eaten your fill?"

Cherrabell shook her head. "You tell me. I sure hope so."

Felicity sized up the table's refuse. "I can't imagine you haven't. It looks like you needed it."

"Then can we get going?" Cherrabell pleaded. "I need to get back on my hooves, and I want to see your ship. Anything that's different. Please?"

Felicity nodded, looking to the others. "Now that we've seen how this played out, and appear to still be welcome here, I wouldn't blame the rest of you for passing the night indoors. I think I'd like at least one trustworthy assistant to help with the delivery..." She looked to Senescey and Larceny. "But aside from that, feel free to follow or remain at your own pace."

Cherrabell started for the door without waiting for a helping shoulder. "I can walk on my own," she insisted. "Just show me where you're moored." At Gawain's confused look, she added, "I'm doing this on their ship. Just to... to be somewhere new for a change. To make this different from all the other times."

Both Senescey and Larceny looked inclined to follow them, so Papyrus glanced at Floria and Braen. "Well?" he asked. "Spend the night in a haunted manor, or next door to a 'basic biological function'. What'll it be?"

Floria hesitated. "I'm not exactly leaping at the chance for either of these options..."

"Before you retire with my wife, might I bother you with one more question?" Gawain asked, awkwardly raising a talon.

"Show us what you've got," Papyrus invited, curious what other holes the griffon had to dig for himself tonight.

Gawain sighed. "You may already know this, but Griffonstone's population has been in precipitous decline from the ages of yore. This very compound, in fact, was once just down the road from a forest town that was completely abandoned not thirty years ago because there weren't enough residents to keep it open. And it will slide further and further so long as my people lack the peace and fortune required to see children as anything other than a drag on their finances."

He cleared his throat and continued. "Now, I provide these ladies with the resources and comfort to create the next generation, to invest in our future, to dedicate their bodies and lives to the most worthy cause in comfort and luxury and bliss, and you still make it sound so ignoble. Is a steady supply of the next generation not something every nation needs? What would you have us do? If this isn't compensation enough for their procreative labors, then what is? Ought we to simply sit back and disappear?"

"How many of our children come back from their travels, though?" Cherrabell asked, looking back over her shoulder from the door.

"Well, none, yet," Gawain admitted. "But perhaps in a few more years..."

"What's done is done, chum," Papyrus cut in. "You've already got a brood who knows how big. If that's really the silver lining you want to salvage from wasting so much time here, why don't you turn Griffonstone into a place they'd want to come back to? Invest a little in raising them to care about their home instead of kicking them out when your mansion gets full and hoping one in ten return."

Gawain was stuck, helpless. "But isn't that the very purpose they are meant to fulfill?"

"They won't fulfill it if they have no reason to return," Floria pointed out.

"And if you don't know how to give them one," Papyrus added, gesturing to Senescey, "we've got an up-and-coming political scholar of our own right here who's just yesterday gotten scammed out of a long-anticipated chance to test out her theories."

Senescey blinked in surprise, betraying confusion with a hint of gratitude. "I mean, not really..."

"What about it, kingly guy?" Papyrus asked, raising an eyebrow. "I feel like flexing the old skills, myself. Bet you we could whip this place into shape in three days if you stand back and lend us your resources."

Floria nodded. "I'm not sure why we're volunteering for this, but I certainly could do a better job with the place than you have. Care to see a close-up of how much better someone who actually tries can do?"

Papyrus glanced around at his friends. It seemed he had just volunteered them for something yet again... and yet none of them looked intrinsically opposed to the idea. Gawain excluded, the one who looked least happy about this prospect was Cherrabell.

"Would that mean staying here, if you're not leaving?" she asked, ears flat.

"We'll cross that bridge in the morning," Felicity insisted, "and you will have just as real a seat at the table as everyone else. Now, we're heading to the ship with all who are coming."

"Well?" Papyrus glanced at Floria and Braen, the only others who hadn't yet made up their minds.

"Can Braen be delivery assistant?" Braen asked, looking after the retreating ponies.

"Valey would kill me, remember?" Papyrus shrugged. "If you go back to the boat, you'll be in another room. And you'll probably force me to be there to keep an eye on you."

Floria sighed. "And if that happens, then I'll need to be there to keep an eye on you."

"Wouldn't that be a shame?" Papyrus grinned. "Seeing as we all know how little reason you have not to help out Miss Cherrabell instead. Unlike us, you're neither too young nor a dude, and therefor have nothing to worry about!"

"Would you stop stating the obvious?" Floria bristled. "I am far less comfortable with the idea of being around Cherrabell than... I mean, with being around you than Cherrabell."

"What a pity," Papyrus swaggered. "Looks like I can only please one of you! Stay behind in the mansion with Braen and free you up to do as you please, or spend the night in a closet on the boat and force you to keep an eye on me. However shall I choose?"

Braen gave him an impetuous look. "Still doesn't see what problem is. Closet on boat doesn't fix anything!"

"Ah, so it wouldn't please either of you," Papyrus said with a wink. "I can't believe you're making this so easy for me. Closet on the boat it is!"

Floria groaned. "Then it seems we have a full cohort bound for the ship..."

Gawain bowed again as they left. "If the storm doesn't offer a lull in the rain, feel free to use the raincoats on the travel rack in the foyer. And if things get too blustery out there, my doors are always open!"

Papyrus didn't pay him much mind. With how high the walls of the compound were, he wasn't too worried about the storm... and he had more interesting things to think about anyway, like the pair of stunned grifflets waiting just outside the doors, who had clearly heard every word of their exchange.