The Immortal Dream

Gawain's mansion was eerily quiet save for the storm as Papyrus, Floria and Braen chased slowly after Cherrabell and the others. Over the course of dinner, the griffon lord's other wives had evidently succeeded in putting his brood to bed, because the calls and laughter of children were now replaced entirely by thunder and the wind.

"Can't believe how well that worked," Papyrus declared to no one in particular. "It's one noble in ten thousand who actually listens when you tell them they're an imbecile and everything they're doing is wrong. Usually, either you beat it into them or they never learn."

"Rather presumptuous, coming from a member of the latter category," Floria remarked, keeping pace with him as they tried not to let Braen get too far ahead. "If you're aware of discrepancies like that, why not make an effort to be less odious yourself, as well?"

"Actually, I'm a member of the middle category," Papyrus smugly corrected. "I've been on the losing end of no less than four career-ending brawls with goddesses, and at least one of them actually did get me to stop and think. You think I'm bad now, you should have seen the old me."

Floria sternly shook her head. "Being better than you were is no excuse for not being good enough. Does this whole experience not reinforce your belief that if someone doesn't step up and be a decent person, then the whole world will be full of nothing but Gazelles and Gawains?"

Papyrus ruffled his feathers. "I appreciate how you used my old name there with the implications that the present me no longer fits your point."

"You seem to think you've improved," Floria answered. "Whether that's true or not, my desire is for you not to rest on your laurels."

"So what you're saying is, you've got hope for me yet." Papyrus grinned at her.

Floria sighed. "Much as this ought to be an expectation of basic public decency and not something praiseworthy, yes. I've never seen you make so much as a pass at me, my mother or my aunts, much less impregnate us all simultaneously and then fondle us in front of guests at dinner parties. Thank you. This experience has shown me you could be worse."

"You're trying to insult me with faint praise," Papyrus told her with a yawn. "But if you had been around old imperial royalty, you'd realize the bar you're setting is a lot higher than you think it is."

Floria gave him a sharp look. "No it isn't. And what I'm offering you is an opportunity to do something that won't make me regret talking to you for a change."

"At this point, I think our personalities are just irreconcilable," Papyrus replied. "That's like asking the wind not to blow. Though for a sphinx and an ex-sphinx at perpetual loggerheads, we agreed on quite a lot while making our points back there. It almost came across like we had the same priorities!"

"Is that the best olive branch you can manage?" Floria huffed. "If you want your priorities to ever come across correctly, you need to work on being less ambiguous with your sarcasm."

"Oldest trick in the book, I'm afraid," Papyrus apologized. "It's that much harder to lose when nobody knows what your goals are, and being ambiguously sarcastic or serious is the best way to keep them under wraps. Truth is, I've still got no goals. Just a habit of speaking that's too fun to kick." With a solid stare, he added, "Telling you frankly that I don't know what I want counts as a considerable gesture of goodwill, coming from me. In case that was also ambiguous."

"So I see," Floria sighed. "Fine, then. While we're speaking straight, I have an important question for you. Was this too easy?"

Papyrus nodded. "You mean, did everything go suspiciously well? Hard to say. I will point out that Felicity did allegedly know this fellow from some time ago. It's quite possible she knew what he was like, or even has dirt on him none of us know about to pressure him into good behavior. Especially considering our sudden retreat from the Empire, which, yes, everyone is aware of how unfair that was to you, and she definitely could have wanted to do something nice for you in turn."

He flicked his tail. "Now, there's no way she could have predicted this storm, or Cherrabell's present circumstances or any of that. But I wouldn't be gobsmacked if this was secretly rigged in our favor."

Floria's ears fell. "I was more wondering if there was some... some other shoe we should be expecting to drop. But that does seem like the kind of thing my mother could have assumed I wanted. I suppose I ought to thank her, even if I'd rather not be participating in a script."

"Ah, so you're asking me how this could all suddenly go wrong!" Papyrus perked up. "Do you want the worst answer, the funny answer, or the realistic answer?"

Floria eyed him skeptically. "You choose, in the knowledge that I will be judging you on your judgement."

"Well, we never did get to the bottom of all those suspicious similarities to Chrysalis," Papyrus mused. "I still can't comfortably write all that off as a coincidence, but it's different enough that by now I seriously doubt it'll end the same way. If Cherrabell is the biggest threat in this mansion, I'd say we've safely defused her: she's a lot more stable than Crystal was now that her needs are being met, and given what they are it shouldn't be possible to deny them in nearly as aggressive a manner as last time. Even if something bad suddenly did happen to her, she'd probably welcome it as a change of pace."

"So you think there isn't one?" Floria asked. "That we are well and truly safe? Because I lack the experience to interpret anything useful from this gut feeling, but it won't stop eating at me that there's something serious we've overlooked."

Papyrus nodded. "If I were a malicious god of karma capable of rigging things like this and wanted to destroy us in the most insidious way possible, here's how I'd do it: we read the situation right, but got the wrong mare. Imagine if this mansion really did have another Chrysalis, but it wasn't Cherrabell? And, upon seeing us doting upon Cherrabell with the attention and care she feels she deserves for herself, she explodes in a mindless rage and kills us all?"

Floria's face darkened. "Your mind works in twisted ways. Is this actually likely? Ought we to scour the mansion from top to bottom and make sure there aren't any other mares like that we might have overlooked?"

"Less likely than a lightning bolt causing a forest fire and burning the entire place to the ground," Papyrus told her. "Or than that any given one of us has a heart attack and suddenly dies in minutes. If anything supernatural does decide to screw us over, it'll probably be something Cherrabell knows about but doesn't control and didn't think to mention."

"Then what's the realistic answer?" Floria pressed. "You must have seen nobility in this state before. How would this play out in the old Empire?"

Papyrus nodded. "That one's easy. Corruption is a surprisingly equal-opportunity vice: once you've weakened the rules and their oversight so you can exploit them, they're open for others to exploit as well. You start picking up pirates and bottom feeders until your enterprise resembles a tree that's all bark with no wood inside. And then one day a powerful third party comes along who's interested in your land, your office, what have you, and you find yourself with no real strength left to fend them off. Then you're left with nothing when they take it all for themselves."

"So you think Gawain is about to be victimized by a coup," Floria said. "If he puts this much wealth on display, and if griffons are as greedy as they say, I'm surprised no one has taken it already."

"Eh." Papyrus shrugged. "He's probably got their fair-and-equitable-deals culture to thank for that. Much more likely that he gets robbed by someone from outside his culture who has no qualms with making his cash their own. Someone like, say... us."

Floria's eyes widened.

"Bad things don't exclusively happen to you," Papyrus pointed out. "That's a Halcyon way of thinking. Sometimes, they happen to other people. There's been another shoe about to drop on this place for a while now, and I think by far the most likely situation is that we are that shoe."

Floria frowned.

"I know we were boasting back there, but think about it," Papyrus said. "This kingdom's assets, from the limited amount I've heard and seen, include some unused land, some lazy griffons, an urgent population crisis, and a mansion full of spoiled kids. I think it would be very easy to swipe this all for ourselves, and that's before factoring in anything Felicity might have on that lord. What would you do with all that? Drop it like the hot mess it is, or try your paw at rulership?"

"I have little desire to rule," Floria told him. "Not until more can be learned about sphinx insanity, and how to... how to protect my mind. It would be a great betrayal of my prospective subjects were I to assume any sort of throne knowing that with time, I would grow less and less fit to rule. And having seen the effect of decadence on Gawain, you could easily convince me that sitting on such a throne serves to accelerate the madness, or even causes it in the first place."

Papyrus nodded. "It's a big shame your father is now a popsicle in Tarunda's collection. He's the reason any of us actually know about this in the first place."

Floria raised an eyebrow. "...I haven't heard of this."

"Felicity didn't talk much about him?" Papyrus raised an eyebrow.

"Only to emphasize that her own role in my conception involved less-than-ideal behavior," Floria said. "Which I rather wish she wouldn't. I would prefer a parent who leads by positive example. Not by old stories of negative example while keeping me locked away in a penthouse. I desire to be more than the end product of a failed scheme to manipulate someone via the possession of their bloodline's heir."

"Well, I knew him," Papyrus went on, taking that as an invitation. "Always took him for a nerdy loser who couldn't see the fun in life. His father tasked me with getting him to open up more, you see. But no matter how many pirate hunts I dragged him out on or minor schemes I tried to involve him with, he turned a cold shoulder to everything. Not that I was in any sort of mental state to comprehend the particulars of his psychology at the time, much less seek them out, you see. The first time it actually got through to me that I really never would get through to him was when I tried to rouse him to vengeance after half-inciting, half-framing his father for a botched attempt on his life I'm sure you've heard far too much about... Anyway, he wanted nothing to do with it. Wasn't interested at all."

"I can't imagine why he would want to be left in peace," Floria said dryly.

"You actually remind me of him a lot," Papyrus pointed out. "Somewhat acidic, a bit of a coward, that same preoccupation with finding a loophole in your own worse nature. Though I daresay you're far more eager than he ever was to see what lay outside his front door. Shockingly, you're also more willing to give me the time of day."

Floria scowled in confusion.

"Anyway, eventually my plans fell apart, and Starlight and Valey decided to pummel some sense into me," Papyrus continued. "On a night much like this one, actually. We duked it out on a muddy hillside in the middle of a rainstorm. Terrible choice of venue, don't recommend it if you ever have the freedom to choose. Either way, it somehow sobered me up enough that I decided to actually listen to what he had tried to warn me about before."

"Forgive me if I have a hard time imagining it," Floria said dryly. "You're already so receptive to criticisms of your manner."

"And back then I was worse," Papyrus agreed. "But everyone has to start turning their life around somewhere, right? Anyway, your old cat had done some extensive original research on the subject. Scouring newspapers for reports of misbehavior, dating and categorizing and compiling them into a massive timeline and family tree to look for any patterns that would emerge. If you really want to pick up where he left off and try to find a way to avoid going insane without being reincarnated first... The others would despise me for even suggesting this, but even if he's dead, his old research might still be sitting around in a castle somewhere."

Floria hummed in thought, clearly split between thinking into Papyrus's idea and deciding whether to entertain it in the first place. "Tarunda had his body on display in ice, didn't you say? If he really thinks of sphinxes as a people whose corpses belong in collections, perhaps he would have taken my father's research into his collection as well."

"He did have quite the museum," Papyrus noted. "All of it dedicated to our inglorious race and its past conquests. Something like that, which actually paints sphinxes in a bad light, I doubt he would have left on display. But for someone who's that much of an enthusiast, you wouldn't pass on such a valuable cache just because it disagrees with your narrative."

Floria sighed. "Either way, I'm not about to force our group to second-guess our decision again. And if he did happen to have my father's notes, from the sound of things there's exactly one thing he would like from us in return."

"Specifically from Senescey. Leitmotif? Leitmotif." Papyrus nodded. "Which she really doesn't need to be reminded of any more than she has been already."

"Thoughts for another time, then," Floria said. "...Thank you. For trying to take that somewhat seriously. I wasn't sure you had it in you."

"Nothing like a common slovenly enemy for exposing ideological allies," Papyrus agreed. "Speaking of allies, we seem to be catching up."

Ahead was the advance party, Cherrabell and the three sisters, stopped in the foyer while Cherrabell waited for a contraction to pass.

"I see you decided to show up," Senescey remarked, raising an eyebrow at their presence. "You really all want to spend the night like this?"

Papyrus pointed at himself, Floria and Braen in quick succession. "No, no, and way too much, which is why I've got to guard the door to the delivery room so she doesn't get in."

Floria flicked her tail, glancing at Braen. "Why are you so interested in her and her child, anyway?"

"Is pertinent to mission," Braen explained, watching Cherrabell.

"Your mission?" Cherrabell asked, letting go of her belly and fixing her posture as the contraction subsided. "Sorry if there's been too much going on for me to think to ask. But what are you? You have a mission related to my child?"

Braen nodded. "Braen is mechanical pony. Daughter of Valey and Shinespark! Valey and Shinespark are both mares, so cannot have children normal way. Still want them, so invent other way to make daughter instead."

"Sounds like a lot of work," Cherrabell remarked. "Was it that hard for them to find a willing stallion?"

Braen shook her head. "Defeats point if Braen is daughter of Valey and stallion or of Shinespark and stallion. Wanted Braen to be their daughter together. Not accept shortcuts."

Cherrabell looked confused.

"Considering none of us are in committed relationships, I'm not sure we're well-qualified to speak on this," Papyrus said. "But it's possible that people in love see something in starting a family beyond just the end result of cranking out children. Not that I'd know."

"Valey and Shinespark make Braen for many reasons," Braen explained. "Partly because they believe world is place worth living in. Partly to give extra incentive to keep world worth living in! Partly for challenge. Partly so they could get to know her. And so that she could see many things."

Cherrabell nodded, listening along.

"Valey and Shinespark live in Ironridge," Braen continued. "Ironridge is not okay. Too much turmoil and failed revolutions. Many ponies lose sight of belief that world can get better. Things get especially bad within last year, so Braen is sent on mission. Directives are to see world, observe people and find out what Ironridge needs to get better."

Cherrabell looked like she was starting to understand.

"Mostly follow directives by following and listening to what others do," Braen told her, gesturing to Papyrus and the others, her mechanical tail flicking at its base. "But now find something interesting that everyone not asking enough about. Interesting thing is Cherrabell having baby!"

"You've never seen anyone having a baby before?" Cherrabell asked, tilting her head.

Braen shook her head. "Few new mothers in Ironridge. Few small children. Seems like big problem. Even Gawain realize is problem. If making children means hope for future, not making children means no hope. Things are closely related. So filling hole in knowledge is very important to Braen's mission."

"Oh!" Cherrabell brightened. "Well, I can help with that! Here, would you like to feel?" She shifted so that her belly was much more prominent. "They're pretty active since they can tell it's almost time. Everyone deserves the chance to feel a baby kicking."

Braen's mechanical eyes dilated, and she stepped forward eagerly with a hoof extended.

Papyrus aggressively sighed. "If everyone keeps conspiring against me to make my job even more difficult, I will personally give up and blame it on you when her parents come to call."

Braen reached her target unimpeded, placing a tentative hoof and then her entire cheek against the side of Cherrabell's belly. She twitched, waiting for something to happen.

"What's wrong?" Cherrabell asked, tilting her head at Papyrus. "Why isn't this okay? I get the impression she's young, but I'm not telling her where foals come from, or anything. Is this supposed to be off-limits?"

"Look," Papyrus said, "her parents are technically employing me as her bodyguard, so everything that happens to her will ultimately reflect on me. And one of the unknowns that comes with the technology they built her from concerns how she'll experience certain... impulses. Perhaps not at all, or perhaps she'll take after her parents, one of whom is an incorrigible horndog. So part of the instructions that come with my own job are to discourage her from taking any sort of interest in bodies, period."

Cherrabell shook her head, giving Papyrus a slightly patronizing look. "If that's how you see this, I've been around enough children and had enough adult fun that I think I can tell the difference between types of attention a lot better than you can. I'm sorry, but if there's one thing I'm an expert at identifying, it's this. If you ask me as her guardian, then I won't let her watch when I actually push it out, but could you at least let her have this?"

"...Fine," Papyrus relented. "And thanks. Got an idea how close you might be?"

"That was only my third real contraction," Cherrabell apologized. "It'll be quite a while. I'll let you know when I'm close. If it'll make you more comfortable with this, you can come feel it too."

"Think I'll pass," Papyrus dismissed. "Unlike her, I grew up in Riverfall, so I've been around this more times than-"

Halfway through, Cherrabell interrupted him with a gasp. "Oh! There was a big kick! Did you feel it?"

Braen's eyes widened in wonder. "Woah..."

Felicity watched this with perfect understanding. Senescey and Larceny's expressions were a lot more complex.

"There's room for the rest of you," Cherrabell noted, watching them.

"As tempting as the prospect is," Floria interrupted, unenthusiastic, "perhaps we might get you settled in on the ship first before indulging in too many ways to pass the time?"

Papyrus nodded up at the grand entrance. It didn't look imposing, so to speak... but it was locked, and they'd probably need some shadow sneaking if they wanted to leave it the way they had found it on their way out. Though maybe they should leave it open? In case for some Garsheeva-forsaken reason they wanted to come back-

"You all talk a lot," said Glyre, stepping out of the shadows, focused more on opening the door than the ponies she was talking to.

"...Hello, there," Felicity slowly greeted.

"You think Dad's kingdom is ripe for the taking just because he's not doing much with it?" she asked. "You think it's all yours just because you're the first people to show up who don't care about his ideas of fair trade?"

Papyrus raised an eyebrow. "You were eavesdropping when we threw down the gauntlet. Don't you think it's less a question of whether he'd give it to us and more of whether we want it in the first place?"

Glyre pulled aside a normal-sized panel in the door, letting a blast of cold air into the foyer as the exit swung open. "Well, you're not the first," she declared. "I've been waiting for ten years now. So get to the back of the line where you belong, and don't make me fight you for it."

"Precocious and now disturbing, too," Papyrus remarked. "That's a noble's children for you. Would it infringe on your entitlements if we borrowed Miss Cherrabell on a probably permanent basis?"

"Why do you think I'm opening this door for you?" Glyre rapped the wooden panel, emphasizing that they were free to leave. "I don't need wives. Take as many of them as you want. Take some of my siblings, too. I can get more subjects from wherever I please once I'm the queen."

"I'm sure you'd make a fantastic ruler," Floria sighed. "But if you'd like us to refrain from overthrowing you, might I suggest you wait to attempt any coups until we're no longer guests on your premises?"

"I'm not ready yet." Glyre retreated, backing into an unbarred air vent behind a potted plant in an alcove near the door. "Just telling you so you don't forget your place. At the back of the line."

The mansion's courtyard had an unsettling atmosphere, clouds churning past above. For a moment, it had stopped raining, though the grass was soaked and boggy. Papyrus guessed the river running through the yard's other side was its primary defense against flooding, and figured someone probably would have said something by now if it could flood anyway.

"Somehow light enough to see by," Larceny remarked, looking around. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Perhaps that means it's thinning out," Floria guessed, staring up at the clouds.

Cherrabell shook her head. "Where's your ship? Is that it over there?" She gestured to the moored airship, stabilized on its landing gear near the old, disused gate on the far wall. "Could we get in quickly? I'd like to be inside again before the rain resumes."

The sky grumbled, implying it agreed more with Cherrabell's assessment than Floria's.

"Yes, that's ours," Felicity started. "We-"

"Do you think you could carry me?" Cherrabell asked sheepishly. "I'd rather not drag my belly through the mud, and if I try to fly again, I think I'll get another contraction."

Felicity looked ever so slightly taken aback by the interruption. "I... Thank you very much for asking this time instead of trying to fly again on your own, yes. Papyrus, are you our strongest lifter?"

Papyrus flexed his wings, looking dubiously at Cherrabell. "The weight's not a problem, but you want me to hold you how, exactly? You're not fitting on anyone's back with a belly like that. Do I hold you by the shoulders and leave you dangling like a pendulum?"

"You take the front, I'll take the back," Senescey sighed. "I'm more built for speed, but it'll be good enough."

"Fine by me." Papyrus hefted Cherrabell under her forelegs, pumped his powerful wings, and took off, hovering as he felt Senescey stabilize her. "Good enough?"

"Good enough," Cherrabell grunted. "Feels like I've got another one coming on anyway. Just get me comfortable at the ship, please."

They hit the deck without incident, the others arriving seconds after. Braen flew too, using her strange mechanical pegasus wings that glowed when active.

"There!" Papyrus declared, as Felicity moved to unlock the door to the main cabin. "All happy and good?"

"All happy and good," Cherrabell said with a grimace. "My womb has the consistency of a bowling ball, but that's normal. Show me around your ship?"

"Just a moment... There we go!" Felicity's fiddling with the lock paid off, and the door slid open. "Come on in whenever you're ready!"

"This here is the main cabin," Felicity explained, gesturing around the area just beyond the door as Papyrus brought up the rear. "It's both our communal living space and eating room. The ship isn't so big that we're overflowing with space to spare, so I'd get used to the idea of spending time here."

Papyrus nodded around at the room. It was recessed three steps down from the deck level, with the sole door exiting to the prow. A table with a wide, U-shaped bench took up the back half, and while he could hardly call it cramped, space was still economized enough that the entire headboard above the bench was lined with cabinets, racks and hanging nets for storage space.

A compact staircase led further below. "Down there, towards the prow are our personal cabins," Felicity continued. "They're quite cozy, and probably where you'll feel most at home for your birth, though we do only have four of them to split seven ways. Currently, I've been rooming with Floria, Papyrus with Braen, and then the other two have rooms of their own, so they might have to group up so you can have one to yourself?" She glanced at Senescey and Larceny.

Floria cleared her throat. "If such an arrangement does prove to be agreeable, but you do fancy a roommate, I've been missing having a room of my own..."

"And Braen's awake at the controls twenty-four seven," Papyrus cut in. "So I don't really have a roommate except on paper. But do any of you want to shack up with me?"

Cherrabell gave him a look that pointedly said she had already offered, and he turned her down.

"Not that kind of shacking up!" Papyrus reminded her. "Though as the crew's only stallion, I can't blame you if you'd want me locked somewhere in a room on my own."

Felicity shook her head. "Anyways! On the lower level towards the back we have the galley and the engine room, and the bridge is all the way at the front past the cabins. Hard to get lost. Welcome to your new home?"

"It feels so small," Cherrabell remarked, her eyes shining with curiosity now that she was no longer focused on Papyrus. "Everywhere I've spent time before has been big castles and mansions."

"Welcome to the land of economized design," Papyrus said. "Most of the world's dwellings aren't built for nobles with nothing better to spend their money on than big architecture... or more fuel to lift a heavier ship. But if you think this is tight, you should see the submarine they took me on way back in the day..."

"I'm curious. I'm not going to regret my choice," Cherrabell insisted. "I feel more energetic already, just being somewhere new at all."

"Cherrabell's foal will be able to come now?" Braen asked, hopeful.

Cherrabell shook her head. "This is a grifflet, not a foal. But, it's certainly coming... in four to six hours. I hope I don't keep you all up with my moaning and groaning."

"So long?" Braen tilted her head. "What does Cherrabell need so much time for?"

Cherrabell laughed nervously. "That's just how it works. You can't just choose to push the baby out. Your body does it for you, and it takes a long time to get ready."

Braen considered this. "Cannot do something else while getting ready?"

"It's painful." Cherrabell shook her head. "You have to both focus and let go to get through each contraction, especially the ones at the end. You can't control when they come, and it's not fast, but there's not enough time to do anything before the next one, either. Here, next time I feel one coming on-"

It was Senescey who cleared her throat to interrupt them. "So, not to be a damp blanket, but if we've got that many hours to do nothing but talk, I hope we've got more topics lines up than just telling Braen how labor works. Because that subject is going to get harder not to think about as the night goes on, and I think the ponies here who don't plan on following you into the delivery room would prefer a different one while we still can."

Floria tried very hard not to look called out.

"Smashing idea, old girl," Papyrus cut in, taking the baton with gusto. "We've got all that old imperial gossip you promised us, don't we? And if you get tired of talking, I'm sure some of us could step in with a bit more info about who we are and what you're now associating with."

"Now would be a great time for that!" Cherrabell eagerly agreed. "Um... probably. The truth is, a lot of my stories also involve heirs and bloodlines and nobility, and... all the things you've been sending signals you don't actually want to talk about. I assume you knew that if you're asking me about royal skullduggery, and so you won't feel awkward if you get what you asked for, right? You're not looking for feel-good stories about the people in power doing the right thing?"

"Some things never change," Felicity remarked. "Not that I can say I'm surprised."

Senescey looked slightly uneasy at the prospect. "I'd say just as long as this doesn't make me second-guess myself for the fifty-seventh time about leaving well enough alone, but there's only so much more that can be piled on. So go for it. Tell me how absolutely despicable Everlaste's royal family and the company they keep was. Make me regret it again that I failed to kill them when I had the chance."

Cherrabell laughed nervously. "Would anyone mind getting me a glass of water? This could be a very long one."

Floria rose, taking it upon herself to fulfill the request.

"So, to start with," Cherrabell began. "I joined the palace staff sometime when I was around thirteen or fourteen. It's not just the date I've forgotten; I don't know when my birthday is or how old I am. You see, when they found me, I had complete and total amnesia..."