Naked Pony Berserkers

by Obselescence

Rating: teen
Tags: Random, Alternate Universe, Comedy
Length: 2096

When Barbarians come...

"Celestia's mares rushed forwards without armour, were as mad as dogs or wolves, bit their shields, and were strong as bears or wild oxen, and killed people at a blow, but neither fire nor iron told upon them. This was called Berserkergang."

Published 1970-01-01 00:00:00 UTC
Last updated 2012-04-06 20:04:01 UTC

Chapter 1

Chapter 1

With infinite displeasure, and not a little grumbling, the High King of Pelagia sat down on his throne. He would have greatly preferred to spend his time reading books, but since his brothers and cousins had all been killed in wars of succession, the title of High King had fallen on his shoulders.

And that, unfortunately, meant taking valuable time out of his day in order to actually govern the realm. So many hours that could have been spent reading the latest in Pelagian literature—lost! A more tragic plight, the High King could not imagine.

He took a few moments to adjust himself on the throne, which was magnificently uncomfortable. A few moments more were spent making sure that the royal crown—a monstrosity of gold, silver, and gemstones—would not snap his neck when it was laid on his head.

The royal adviser, meanwhile, stayed busy by greeting the High King with customary cheer. “Good day to you, sire! Might I say, you look particularly regal today.”

“Yes, yes, Bodkin,” the High King replied with customary indifference. He was not fond of carrying out his duties and made no secret of it. If the curse of responsibility had been destined to fall on his shoulders, the High King reasoned, the least he could do was avoid making life easy for those poor souls beneath him.

Bodkin, as a loyal servant of the Crown, took his lord’s apathy in stride. “If Your Majesty is ready to begin, I have made a list of matters that require royal attention...”

“Oh, very well.”

“First on the list: the treasury has submitted a report on the realm’s growing prosperity...”

“Tell them I’ll read it later. Next?”

“Two women of some noble standing both claim ownership of a child...”

The High King sighed. “Tell them to cut it in half and choose a piece.”

“Of course, Sire.”

“And I’m not being wise here. Order someone to grab an axe and make it official.”

“Of course, Sire.”

“Next, Bodkin?”

“My undersecretaries report that an envoy from the land of Equestria awaits an audience with Your Majesty...”

The High King thought on that for a minute. Then he thought for a few more minutes.

“Equestria,” he said at last. “That name is not familiar to me.”

“I believe it to be a barbarous state in the north, Sire.”

A barbarian state. That explained it. There was absolutely nothing of importance to the north of Pelagia. Just a horde of hairy, uncivilized animals, and none of them had ever been a great threat to the kingdom. Wastelands and wastrels. This Equestria place, whatever it was, was surely beneath the concern of the High King of Pelagia.

“Send them back to whence they came,” he said. “I am not in the mood to meet with barbarians.”

Bodkin hesitated.

The High King tapped his foot impatiently. “Well, Bodkin?”

Bodkin swallowed and grimaced. He could feel drops of sweat roll down his forehead as he gave careful thought to his next words. Disobedience did not come naturally to him—and for good reason. His loyalty to the Crown was great beyond measure; it simply did not feel natural to refuse an order straight from the High King’s mouth.

Disobedience also carried the distinct possibility of a beheading, Bodkin supposed. That was something to ponder as well.

“Your—Your Majesty,” he stuttered, having given the matter much thought. “I urge you to reconsider. My reports tell me that these Equestrian folk are a particularly warlike breed. Perhaps we should not be so quick to give them insult.”

The High King stared directly into Bodkin’s eyes, and wondered for a moment how nice the accompanying head would look on a pike right outside his palace.

Then he thought better of it, because he was a Civilized Ruler, and Civilized Rulers don’t often get very far by beheading their most capable advisers. Perhaps the children of irritating noblefolk, but not the advisers.

“You truly think it that important?” the High King asked.

“Supposing my head were to stay on my shoulders, Sire... Yes.”

“Very well,” said the High King. “Have them brought in.”

A young servant was dispatched with orders to bring the Equestrian envoy. The High King noted a certain... unease in the lad’s face, but did not think much of it. The boy was from one of the provinces, and surely quite unused to the splendor of the royal palace. It was only natural that he would be a bit nervous.

“So, Bodkin,” the High King began as soon as the servant ran off. “What do you know of these Equestrians?”

“I know only what I have been told, Your Majesty. They are said to be fearsome and terrible to face in battle.”

“So you’ve said. What else?”

“I have also heard that they are horses. Animals who have taken up the ways and manners of men.”

“Ah,” said the High King knowingly. “A bestial folk.”

“To be sure, Sire.”

It was not long after that the doors to the throne room were opened, and the young servant returned. He bowed respectfully. “Presenting to m’Lord: the War Queen Celestia and her host.”

Into the throne room trotted the most unusual group the High King had ever seen. A splendid white horse with a flowing rainbow mane entered first, followed by six ponies of the most unusual colors. Behind them stood a smattering of surprised Pelagian noblemen, who had never before seen ponies with wings or horns—or in the case of the War Queen: both.

“Dear God, Sire,” Bodkin whispered. “They wear no clothes! I can see their—”

“I am aware, Bodkin,” the High King muttered back. It was quite plain as day, for beside the war paint splashed on their faces, the Equestrians’ bodies were bare as the moment they’d been born.

Barbarians, the High King thought.

To the War Queen Celestia, he said “Greetings, dear lady! To what circumstance can I owe your esteemed presence?”

The War Queen chuckled softly. “Why, we have come to inform you of the invasion,” she said, her voice fair and sweet. “Our invasion of Pelagia.”

The nobles in the back murmured anxiously. A chill ran down the High King’s spine. War? With Pelagia? Unthinkable!

“Surely you jest,” he said out loud. “Pelagia is a mighty land, and our army is powerful indeed.”

“Sire!” whispered Bodkin, “I think the purple one is staring at me!”

“Hush, Bodkin,” the High King hissed.

“I’m afraid I don’t joke,” Celestia replied, in that melodious tone of hers. “You see, we in Equestria—”

Suddenly, the purple unicorn pony by Celestia’s side uttered a feral scream. “Nonconsensual sex!” she roared. “First degree murder!”

“Sire!” Bodkin screamed. He bolted immediately behind the throne and tried to hide himself behind it.

The noblemen, for their part, all gasped in shock. The High King himself shifted uncomfortably in response to the outburst.

Even the unicorn’s companions appeared a bit put off. The cyan pegasu in the corner, seemed particularly annoyed. “What kind of sissy egghead battletalk was that?” she grumbled.

The War Queen alone appeared unperturbed. “Twilight, dear,” she said simply. “Give it a rest.”

“Yes, War Queen,” said Twilight, her face looking quite sheepish. Her eyes, however, still focused hungrily on the throne and the Bodkin hiding behind it.

“Apologies,” Celestia said. “My protégé had one too many cupcakes before our audience. The sugarlust can be a bit unbearable at times.”

“The sugarlust is immense!” agreed one of her escort: a manic-looking pink pony who could not seem to stand still. “I must kill something!”

The High King did not approve of the direction this discussion was taking.

“As you were saying, War Queen?”

“There’s not much else to tell,” said the War Queen with perfect frankness. “We want your land, and we are very capable of fighting you for it.”

The High King considered this. Surely there was no chance that Pelagia could be conquered by some backwards hinterland, but these Equestrians seemed very fierce indeed. An invasion by them could very well ruin the tranquility of his reign, and the war planning alone would cut deeply into his reading time. The lives of his subjects were somewhat less important to him, but still something to take into account. The peasantry always did get rambunctious when the term “meaningless war” started rolling around.

“Surely,” he said. “War is not the only option. Perhaps a tribute would satisfy you? Gold? Grain?”

He thought a bit more before adding, “Clothing?”

“I’m afraid not,” the War Queen replied. “Your gifts mean nothing to us. Our land is just too poor and chilly for our comfort—Windigos, you see—so we’ve decided to take yours instead.”

“Windigos, Bodkin?” the High King murmured.

Bodkin peeked out from behind the throne. “I believe them to be ice spirits that haunt those of particularly ill temperament, Sire.”

“Naturally,” the High King grumbled.

“The blood of your people shall be the only decoration necessary for our coats,” declared the War Queen. “The plunder from your homes shall feed our foals for generations!”

The throne room erupted into mixed gasps and cheers as Celestia’s escorts all whooped with joy, and the noblemen worried about what this would mean for the upcoming gala.

“Hold on a minute,” said a white unicorn, who alone amongst the Equestrians seemed to radiate culture. “Blood on our coats? Including moi?”

Bodkin peeked out again. “They know the language of Fancy, Sire,” he said. “Perhaps they can yet be reasoned with?”

Another pony, bright orange, trotted toward the unicorn and gave her a vicious blow. “That’s the stupidest durn thing I ever heard out a bear-serker’s mouth,” she said. “I told you fancy-pants Rarity wasn’t right to be a bear-serker, War Queen.”

Rarity appeared to have been caught off guard. She blinked a few times, felt where the hoof had landed on her cheek, and narrowed her eyes. “I’ll destroy you!” she screamed.

She leapt at the orange pony and in an instant they were rolling on the ground, hooves flailing wildly as they beat each other into bloody pulps. The other ponies gathered round to cheer them on.

“Roughhousing!” Twilight screeched in delight. “Defecation!”

“Kill ‘em, Rarijack!” hooted the bright punk pony. “Break ‘em, Applety!”

“Guards!” the High King bellowed. “Stop this at once!”

The few guards who felt brave enough to even approach the tumbling pair of ponies were quickly scattered by the terrifying stare of a butter-yellow pegasus pony.

“No interference,” she said softly.

The guards did not interfere.

“War Queen!” the High King pleaded. “Order them to stop!”

Celestia just smiled. “My money’s on Applejack.”

There was little else the High King could do as the two ponies slugged it out on his beautiful carpet. Blood spattered everywhere as hoof met bone, and the High King could only imagine how long it would take to have all that scrubbed out.

Eventually, however, they tired themselves out. There was no clear winner, but Applejack and Rarity finally picked themselves off the floor and nodded toward each other respectfully. The other ponies all congratulated them on a battle hard-fought.

“Well, then,” said the War Queen once it was all over. “That was quite fun to watch.” She turned toward the High King. “Anything else to add?”

“Ah, no. No, Your Majesty,” said the High King.

“Excellent. We’ll see ourselves out.” Celestia whistled toward her escort. “Come along, my little ponies.”

The noblemen ran as the War Queen and her escort made their way to the door. Most of the ponies spat on the carpet before leaving, and the cyan pegasus kicked a hole in the wall as she made her way out.

Having seen the way Equestrians fight, no one was much willing to chastise her for it.

When the last Equestrian had left the room, and the nobles had gone to discuss the upcoming gala, Bodkin finally emerged from behind the throne. “Is it safe now, Sire?” he asked.

“Yes,” said the High King. “I believe so.”

“Shall I order the immediate evacuation of all Pelagia, Sire?”

The High King recalled the strength of his armies, and the grandeur of all his kingdom. He remembered his soldiers, all deeply loyal to him, who had never once let him down. He recited the stories he'd been told as a child, of how Pelagia—though many times threatened—had never once fallen to outside invaders.

Then he thought of the Equestrians; uncivilized, unsavory, and completely unclothed.

He took all of that into account and, carefully considering both arguments, arrived at a decision:

“Quickly.”