Gallus glanced at the magical clock on the nightstand just beyond the snoozing form of Smolder. It was nearly two in the morning. And exhausted as he was from the competitions and the three-hour sex marathon with Gigi—not to mention the bonus round with Smolder and Gemma—he still couldn’t sleep.

Smolder smiled in some dream as she snuggled closer to him, but for once, Gallus didn’t mind. A chill wind flowed through their chambers from the open window that led out onto the balcony looking out over the great coliseum. He shivered slightly despite the dragon’s warmth as he watched a shaft of moonlight play along all three sets of legs beneath the sheets.

His eyes drifted over to the naked and peaceful shape of Gemma. As usual, the blankets had fallen off her huge tits, but Gallus couldn’t find it in himself to cover her. Not because the view was a massive turn-on—though it totally was—but because he liked seeing her like this. Nude, beautiful and quiet. When she was awake, she was a blushing ball of energy.

Only a few days ago, she’d told him the truth. The pretty maid had once been a male griffon who’d competed in the Featherheart Championship. She’d lost in the third round and honored her oath by submitting and becoming a Red. Most griffons did. Those who didn’t faced exile, jail or worse for breaking the contracts they signed on entering the Championship.

But what mattered more—at least to him—was her second confession: she wished she’d done things differently. She wished she’d become a Green before the first round.

Gallus leaned over to give Gemma a little peck on the forehead. She smiled and let out a little coo of happiness. Since that first day, Gemma had all but moved in with Smolder and Gallus. And Gallus found himself increasingly fond of the griffoness, even if she was a few years older than him. He wondered if—

A faint sound from outside caught his attention. He twitched and whirled, only to see movement on the balcony.

“By the Nest, what now?” Gallus muttered.

He was not in the mood for another kidnapping attempt. Griswald had stationed extra security around their suite just in case, but Gallus had been through too much to think such things could be perfect.

Then again, he had one of his best friends, a fire-breathing dragon, lying next to him.

Maybe the lack of sleep was making him reckless. Or maybe he had just had enough of being a pawn in other griffon’s games.

He slowly extricated himself from the bed, grabbed a pair of jeans and slipped them on. Only then did he step out onto the moonlit balcony, bare-chested and wary. The coliseum beyond was lost in shadow. In fact, the only thing he could really see, aside from the stars and the moon, was the two tables, the two chairs and the small bench where a light gray elderly griffon sat, watching Gallus with his chin resting on one of his claws.

“I should have known you’d show up,” Gallus said with a shake of his head. “You’ve got some nerve.”

“You should know I did not authorize the use of any weapons during the operation yesterday afternoon,” former Grand Admiral Gulhan Gass said in his clipped militant tone. “The squad was overeager and overequipped. The attack on your dragon ally was a grave error.”

Gallus leaned against the doorway and raised an eyebrow at the old buzzard. “Really? That’s what you’re going to open with?”

Gass met his eyebrow with one of his own. The griffon wore his full military uniform, complete with a forest of medals. He did look impressive. He also looked like a griffon out of time.

“I’m not going to apologize for what I did to try and save this nation, son,” Gass informed him. “It’s unfortunate that you’ve fallen in with Giselle and her cohorts. You would have made an excellent ally.”

“So, why not try and recruit me?” Gallus demanded. “Why all the cloak and dagger bullshit?”

Gass didn’t respond to Gallus’s vulgarity. Instead, he leaned back on the bench and steepled his claws together. “And what would you have said if I had approached you? Told you that one of the most hallowed traditions of our people is a corrupt institution eating away at the might of the griffons?”

Gallus tapped his chin in thought for a moment as he seriously considered the question before answering it. “I would have called you a conspiracy theorist and a lunatic.”

“Yet you yourself defeated a young pegasus mare in her bid to banish all magic from Equestria, did you not?” Gass pointed out, his shrewd eyes narrowing. “Did anycreature believe you when you tried to stop her? Hm? The ponies themselves turned on you for a time. They thought you mad or evil. You were not. Simply misunderstood.”

“Oh, I don’t think you’re mad or evil, Gass,” Gallus said with a shrug. “I think you let your griffons go too far. If everything I’ve read about in Princess Twilight’s history classes is true, you’re too smart to try to outright kill me.”

“Then there is hope for the ponies after all.”

Gallus ignored the question and scratched his naked chest with a claw. “No, the real question is… why are you here now? You know whatever I decide won’t have anything to do with the Patriarchists. Unless you wanted to try and kidnap me again.”

“You might want to look at the roof, young Gallus,” Gass said, pointing a thumb upward.

Gallus looked up three stories… only to blink a few times when he saw Sky Captain Griswald and six griffons with stun-staffs watching the exchange very carefully from the roof. Griswald gave him a little salute. Gallus just nodded at him dumbly.

“He’s good,” Gallus muttered.

“He should be,” Gass replied, looking up at the imposing griffon. “My prized student, back when I served as Headmaster of Ironwing Academy. One of the best any of our academies has ever turned out, save for his views on the future of the griffon people.”

“I think he’s just fine the way he is.”

“Of course you do.” Gass leaned forward and sighed. “No, I do not intend to use force, Mister Gallus. A good admiral knows when he must change tactics. I was hoping your loss a few days ago would be enough to discourage you. You have the pride of a proper griffon.”

Gallus rolled his eyes. “Don’t tell me you were behind that.”

“The incident in the obstacle course?” Gass scoffed. “I may have moved the roster around to put you with some griffons who were paid handsomely to get you to humiliate yourself on the course, but you failed long that before they could even act.”

Gallus bristled a little, trying to ignore the barb. “And when that didn’t work?”

“The Championship is not long. I had to act swiftly.” He shook his head. “I had hoped you would venture out into the city at some point, but apparently you had other things to occupy your time.”

“And my bed.” Gallus smirked.

It was Gass’s turn to ignore the barb. “So, when that didn’t happen, I had to play my last card. Grazin was an arrogant fool. Doubly-so for breaking his Featherheart contract and fleeing. He was supposed to make you doubt, but when he failed, my griffons were to quietly take you out, secure you in a safe location within the city until the Championship ended, then release you unharmed.”

“Thankfully, I make friends with dragons.”

“Indeed.”

Silence descended upon them for a good minute before Gallus spoke up again. He stopped leaning against the doorway, stood up straight and studied at the old admiral. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“No, I suppose I didn’t,” he said with a shrug. A few of his medals jangled “I am here to beg you to walk away. In so doing, you do not endorse either side. Both Giselle and I must stand on our own. Let our people decide, instead of having them follow the griffon hero of the Battle of Unity.”

Gallus nodded to himself. He’d wondered what Gass’s last move would be. It didn’t surprise him that the former admiral’s last gambit might be a simple appeal to harmony. But Gallus didn’t sense anything harmonious about the griffon before him.

“I’m sure you know Giselle’s done her homework about griffon population growth,” Gallus said as he stepped out onto the balcony, then leaned against the railing to look out over the darkened coliseum. “And I happen to believe her.”

“It’s not as simple as she’d led you to believe,” Gass insisted.

“Oh? Why don’t you enlighten me?”

“The Idol of Boreas.”

Gallus blinked and glanced over his shoulder. “What?”

Gass got to his paws, folded his claws behind his back and stepped to the railing. “The Idol of Boreas and the Idol of Aventa were a pair, Mister Gallus. The attack of the Arimaspi didn’t only ruin Griffonstone, it broke the griffon people. When we had both, the balance of the genders leaned in the male direction, but there were more than enough females. King Guto himself was a staunch Patricharist.”

“The griffon who lost the Idol of Boreas was one of your order?” Gallus scoffed. “That’s not a big point in your favor.”

“The point is that the balance was maintained by having both,” Gass insisted as he leaned forward on the table, his medals jingling. “The Featherheart Championship used to be a time for when either side could switch to the gender they wanted. A minor tweak to the balance, nothing more. Indeed, it was the day before a Championship when the Arimaspi attacked, as the Idol of Boreas was on display. Back then, the Championship was little more than a fertility festival. Most used it as an incentive to bear chicks.”

“That Idol is gone,” Gallus snapped. “What does this have to do with anything?”

“Before the Idols were found, our population was always in danger of being too male or female dominated. It swung wildly from generation to generation. Patricharists acted when they were too out of balance through the use of zebra medicines, ancient alchemy and more. The discovery of the Idols changed everything… until one was lost. After that, the goal of the Patricharists changed. They were never meant to ensure there was a king on the throne. Their goal was to eventually mount a full expedition to recover the Idol of Boreas and return balance to our people. Giselle has no interest in such an endeavor.”

“That’s because it’s suicide!” Gallus shouted, his wings flaring with anger. “How many griffons have died trying to get that dumb idol back?”

“Too many,” Gass readily admitted as he stood and approached Gallus. At least he had the decency to look sad. “But with the power of the Grand Alliance, we could finally—”

“Just… just stop,” Gallus spat, waving his claws in the air. “I don’t know if you’re spinning this all out to try to convince me to join or walk or whatever. I didn’t fly to Griffonstone from Equestria to get caught up in these squabbles! We’re supposed to be better now!”

Gass grabbed his shoulders and shook him slightly. Gass and Gallus were about the same height, and Gass used this to stare Gallus square in the eye. Moonlight glinted off of his cold gaze.

“Boy, you became the crux of these squabbles the moment you decided to fly here. You’re going to have to choose a side. The Patriarchists intend to reinstate a different form of the Featherheart Championship in about ten years. But now is not the time.” Gass took a deep breath before he plunged on. “The Battle of Unity may have saved the ponies. It did not save the griffons. We still have threats. Rogue dragons. The Arimaspi. The new Storm Prince in the south. We are race of warriors, Mister Gallus. We need warriors to protect our people from these threats. And males are better warriors. They are stronger, faster and have a better mind for combat. The Patriarchists are here to ensure we have a future, no matter what foe comes to strike us down. We need our chicks to grow up male and strong. Otherwise, one day, we will die as a people.”

Gallus waited a full minute to make sure the old griffon had finished speaking before he raised an eyebrow. “You done, now?”

Gass released the younger griffon. “You know the truth now. I simply hope you are wise enough to see reason.”

“I am,” Gallus said. “I’ve made my choice.”

“And am I to know what the choice is?”

“I could make you wait, but why bother?” Gallus smirked at him. “You made a mistake, former Grand Admiral, when you said that males were just better at combat. For years, I’ve studied under the heroes of Equestria, ones who’ve fought the Storm King’s armies, dark changeling invasions, mad unicorns, monsters of shadows and so much more. And you know what? Never once did they ever claim they succeeded because they were mares.”

“You don’t—”

“I’ve fought beside Silverstream, Ocellus, Yona and Smolder. Four females, a hippogriff, a new changeling, a yak and a dragon. They never once lorded over us that they were better because they were female. And Sandbar? He never claimed he was better because he was male.”

“Boy, you need to—”

“Every female I have ever cared about? They never went on and on about how they were better. It was always the males. Makes you think, huh? Makes you realize… maybe one group is compensating for something.”

“Now, see here—”

Gallus shoved himself up into Gass’s face, his eyes slits while his hands were clenched claws on either side of his body.

“And if being male requires you to compensate that much? You know what? I’d be honored to join the female ranks.”

“You can’t be serious!” Gass sputtered.

“I should thank you, Gass,” he spat, refusing to give the old griffon his former title any longer. “You helped me decide just what I’m going to do before the Golden Melee. I doubt you’ll like it.”

“Okay, now you need to sit down and actually listen to me now—”

“No, I’m pretty sure I don’t.”

Gallus waved as Griswald, who dropped down like a stone, landing in a perfect crouch. He stood like an unfolding stone monolith as he loomed over his former teacher.

“Something I can help you with, Mister Gallus?”

“I think it’s time for me to get some rest,” Gallus said, staring at Gass. “Would it be too much trouble to ask you to see Mister Gass out of the coliseum. Since he’s not competing, I don’t think he’s supposed to be here.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Griswald rumbled with a smile. “Come along, Gulhan. You’ve had your say.”

“You’ll regret this, Mister Gallus!” Gass shouted as Griswald began to drag him toward the door on the opposite side of the balcony. “If you go Red or Green, you’ll rip out the very core of our people!”

“Good. Then we’ll get a chance to put something better there,” Gallus huffed as he turned and sauntered back into the bedroom.

He wasn’t fooled for a second by the two ‘sleeping’ girls in the bedroom. He smirked as he removed his pants and flew up above the bed, only to flop back down, bouncing the entire bed in the process.

“Took you long enough,” Smolder muttered. “I was going to go roast him just for being a windbag.”

Gallus snorted, then turned over to look into Gemma’s eyes. They were almost glowing in the moonlight.

“Gemma?”

“Yeah, Gallus?” She said, snuggling close to him after he slipped under the covers.

“Is it worth it?”

Gemma stared up at him and smiled. “I couldn’t be happier.”

Gallus nodded and returned the smile. “That’s all I needed to hear.”

Gemma moved beneath him, then he moved within her. Smolder turned to watch, but for once, was totally silent. Maybe she knew that this was something different. Something special.

When Gemma cried out as Gallus climaxed, they held one another tight. Smolder joined, but only to hold them. Kisses were exchanged all around, and the three fell asleep like that, with Gallus still hard and thick inside of Gemma.

When the sun finally woke them, Gemma greeted Gallus not with ‘good morning,’ but ‘thank you’ as she held her belly.

He kissed her and replied with a thank you of his own.

And all the while, Smolder smiled a very pleased and proud smile.

It's weird to write stories with quiet, nonspecific sex in some chapters~! But I loved writing Gass's skewed view of the world. To him, it makes sense~!

Ah well, I wonder what Gallus will do~?