"Oh, I agree with that. Cheliax is a country ruled by the lords of Hell and most people there go to Hell and it's an ongoing humanitarian nightmare but we're not positioned to do anything about it, we can't go to war with them."

"...because the casualties would go to Hell or for some other reason?"

"That, and also Abadar's very serious about the opposition to war even in this case. I don't know if he knows something we don't or cares about different things than we might."

"I don't suppose he's deigned to specify."

"Well, not to me. You could ask the pharaoh."

"Does he even know you have interdimensional guests? He hasn't, like, shown up."

"We were getting along and you said he might terrify you. I said he should plan to talk with you but not right away. He doesn't know about the thing where Fëanáro is sort of me, I wanted to see it before I tried to explain it."

"I hope he's at all capable of managing how terrifying he is or I feel really sorry for his staff. Maybe that's why he was being bland, although I guess it doesn't explain him being bland at you in particular. - So you've seen him now, thoughts?"

"You're right. I don't get it but it's - very odd. And he wants to meet the pharaoh so I guess we had better arrange that."

"I guess so. Does the pharaoh have kids, is he used to kids such that he might be able to be slightly less surprised at the juxtaposition of you plus kid plus other species?"

"The pharaoh has no children yet." Sigh. "It's a slight problem. He does know what kids are like, he had six younger brothers and lots and lots of half-cousins."

"That's good then. I should probably be around as a - cultural translator? Not that I'm terribly familiar with Osirion culture but I have been around a few weeks and am a human, at least."

"Yes, I think that's a good idea. Plus you'll have plenty to say to him in your own right, I imagine?"

"I imagine that depends."

"On?"

"Where the conversation goes, I suppose. I will have much less to say to him if he decides to be terrifying and a lot more if he wants to make a project of convincing me to live in his country long-term and there's lots of room in between."

Nodnod.

They return to the palace. 

Fëanáro races off to its gardens and to the black dome wall. "What's this made of?"

"A dead bug! It is eight thousand years old and showing no signs of it, we suspect that it will last forever."

" - I mean, presumably, if you don't get tired of it."

"Even in Endorë things rot! This is not Valinor. Things rot. This bug is happening not to rot for some reason and that's notable."

"Ohhhhh! That makes sense." He pats the wall. "Does it do anything?"

"It reflects magic. It makes it easier to keep the area cool. And it's very visually striking."

"And it'd be inconvenient to move."

"It really would be! Possibly impossible."