The King, Porthos, Godiva, and Hauteclaire all stood in a line outside the castle. In front of them stood Marcus. The sun was high above them, and the weather couldn’t have been any better. Especially from where the forest ended and where the town of “Ponyville” began. What a stupid name. It was like the ponies had made the weather just for today. It amazed Hauteclaire so much that he wasn’t really listening to Marcus’ lecture about manners, etiquette, grace, and other things that the other three lacked. “Brother.” Some more than others. He didn’t even need to be here; he was the definition of class and culture. “Hauteclaire.” Dammit, he was the only one that wore pants on a regular basis! Why should he be subjected to...

“Hauteclaire!” Marcus said. The volume this time snapped Hauteclaire out his silent rant.

“What!?” Hauteclaire snapped back.

Marcus dropped back down to his usual, calm voice. “I said that you will promise me you won’t be so nasty to these ponies, I said. I know how you get, I do, and I want everyone on their best behavior, I want. This is the first vacation we’ve taken since, ever, so I want the locals to like us, I do.”

“Yeah, Hauteclaire! I don’t want you yelling at any of the ponies!” said Godiva. “They’re our friends now, and friends treat each other nicely.”

Marcus turned to Godiva. “Now, Godiva, I have a few things to talk to you about, I do. These ponies are people here, they are. So no petting or touching them.”

Godiva stopped tugging at a wedgie. “What? But I want to play with the ponies!”

Marcus crossed his arms. “Godiva, these aren’t like ponies back home, they’re not. Who knows? Even scratching one of them behind the ear could be a social taboo, it could. So I don’t want you petting, hugging, mounting, or anything else of that nature, I don’t.”

Porthos snorted and the King chortled. “You said ‘mount’.”

Godiva shot them a glare before continuing her whining. “But they were all snuggly-wuggly with each other when they met Fluttershy!”

Marcus remained unmoved. “Between close friends things are different, they are.” He walked away from Godiva and didn’t see her stick out her tongue.

“Now, Porthos.” Marcus looked up at the rat that was twice as tall as he was. “No getting drunk.”

“I can’t make any promises,” said Porthos as he adjusted himself in his pants, like a true person of culture.

Marcus crossed his arms, again. “And only one drink.”

“OH, SOD OFF! I’ll drink as much as I want.”

Marcus didn’t flinch as he locked eyes with Porthos. Time stood still.

“Fine,” Porthos said, “I’ll meet you halfway. No more than fifteen.”

“One.”

“Twelve.”

“One.”

“Ten.”

“One.”

“Seven.”

“One.”

“OH, FOR THE LOVE OF PATRICK, LET ME HAVE FUN!”

“One.”

“FIVE!”

“One.”

“THREE!”

“One.”

“Two?... Please?”

Porthos' had his hands clamped together in a prayer of pity. He no longer towered over Marcus. At least figuratively.

“One.”

“DAMN YOU, YOU HAT-WEARING, POETRY-SPEWING, MOSS-BRAINED, SNAKE-SKINNED, SKINNY-ARMED, JELLY-BONED, LIMP-WRISTED, STICK-THROWING, DAISY-SNIFFING, CLOVER-PLUCKING, TEETOTALING, SHEEP-TWADDLING, ARSE-LICKING, SPINELESS, TASTELESS, GUTLESS GOBSHITE! LET ME DRINK!”

“One.”

“GAAAAH!” Porthos raised his fists above his head.

Godiva jumped in front of him. “Please, Porthos. Do it for me! You can drink after.”

“GRRRRAAAYAAAAAAAA!” Porthos continued to scream and holler as his fists shook about over his head. He ran up to the castle and punched a huge hole in the wall. It cracked and crumbled before him. A gargoyle fell from its perch and klunked him on his head. Porthos stood in place as his shoulders heaved. His breathing could be heard over the crumbling wall. “...Fine.” Slowly, he turned around. “One bottle.”

Marcus, now done with Porthos, turned to the King, who was rolling on the floor laughing his royal ass off. “My King, what have you done with your clothes, have you? You were looking so regal just a few minutes ago, you were.”

Still laughing, the King got up, wiped away a tear and pointed to a pile of fabric next to him. “I’m not wearing those! I’m perfect just the way I am.”

“My King, you should be dressed to impress, you should. This is our first time meeting with a people outside of the game in a long time, it is. We should take it seriously, we should,” Marcus said.

“None of the ponies wore clothes when we went to town! Even their princess runs around in the nudey! Why should I, a king, dress as well! I’m already more dressed than she is!”

As much as Hauteclaire hated to, he had to agree with the King. Princess Twilight Glitter ran around wearing nothing. Clothing was probably considered completely optional just like back home; well, for the Mouse King’s army, anyway. The people of the island weren’t too fond of their attitude about it, almost as much as Hauteclaire, but they were usually too busy lighting torches or running in fear to voice their concerns.

Clothes made the man, or in this case, mouse. The King had a regal purple suit with golden tassels and buttons, but he never wore it. Instead, he preferred to go out as he was now, completely nude except for his crown and red cape with white fur lining and a golden chain. Still, his entire wardrobe could never hide the King’s most prominent feature.

Hauteclaire walked up next to Marcus. “Marcus, the King is very proud of his body. It is like a poem. It is overflowing with so much purple prose and saccharine sentiments that he can’t help but share it with the world!”

“Hell yeah, Haut! I always knew you’d support me.” The King turned and grinned at Marcus. “The culture snob says it’s ok. What about you, Marcus?”

Oh, two for one. Today was starting off well.

Marcus stopped to think about it, but not before silently tut-tutting Hauteclaire for his “praise” of the King’s physique. He turned to the King. “You’re right, you are. Fine. You don’t have to wear your suit, you don’t.”

Porthos threw his hands up again. “WHAT IN THE BLOODY HELL WAS THAT!? He just says ‘No’ and you’re going to give up like that? How is that different from me?”

“He’d brought up a good point, he did. Can you?” said Marcus.

Porthos brought a hand up to his chin and stared at the sky. Hauteclaire could hear the gears grinding from where he stood. Any longer, and smoke might have started to come out of his ears. Porthos smiled and brought down his hand. “I’m more fun when I’m drunk.”

Marcus shook his head. “You also are a moody, murderous trainwreck, you are. Remember that time you ripped the arms off that statue before crying yourself to sleep in the park, do you?”

“It looked at me funny!” said Porthos.

Godiva nodded. “I remember that! He kept apologizing to it until he sobered up two weeks later.”

Hauteclaire smirked. “You heard it, Pork. No alcohol. Now stop your bellyaching.”

Porthos glared at Hauteclaire and Marcus. He reached down and adjusted himself. “Fine.”

Hauteclaire flinched in disgust. “You’re not going to keep touching yourself like that at the party, are you? That is disgusting.”

Porthos leaned over Hauteclaire. “I don’t like pants, Haut. They make me chafe.”

Marcus sighed. “You can take off your pants, Porthos, you can, and go as you usually are.”

Porthos smiled at this unexpected victory. “I’ll do that.” With a single motion, he grabbed his pants with both hands and ripped them off. The monstrous rip was followed by the sounds of clinking glass. Around Porthos’ feet were scattered several bottles of alcohol. “Oh yeah, I forgo…er, now, who put those in my pants?”

The time came to meet Princess Twilight Sparkle, Fluttershy, and their friends at the edge of the Everfree Forest. However, instead of walking down the path from the castle or teleporting, the King opted for a more dramatic entrance. So when the time came, the castle floated towards their destination. The King stood at the edge of the grounds and appraised the world below him. When they came to the edge of the forest, he stopped the castle.

The King turned around to see Marcus, Hauteclaire, and Godiva combing through Porthos’ clothes. Marcus found several occupied hiding places for flasks and bottles in Porthos’ red tabard. Hauteclaire checked the indigo gambeson Porthos always wore; it had a few bottles in the baggy portions around the upper arms of his striped sleeves. Godiva even found a small flask in his red and indigo-striped skullcap. The thin, long, purple feather on it had also been inspected. To everyone’s surprise, they found nothing.

Hauteclaire saw out of the corner of his eye the King silently laughing at the whole situation. Would this meeting really go off so well? How could a maniacal king, a giant alcoholic, a giddy knight, an incompetent poet, and a cultured musician get along with a society of ponies that they had already, unintentionally and intentionally, terrorized? The familiar, yet now rarely-seen, calm smile that spread from eye to eye on the King’s face told Hauteclaire all he needed to hear: "It's showtime."

“Knights, and Hauteclaire, front and center,” said the King. “We are going to meet the ponies.”

*BOOM*

The ground beneath Porthos cracked where he landed. Already a heavy beast on his own, Porthos was weighed down by the Mouse King on his shoulders, Marcus and Godiva under one arm, and Hauteclaire under the other. He placed down Marcus and Godiva and dropped Hauteclaire before reaching up and letting down the King.

Hauteclaire glared at Porthos while wiping dirt off himself before looking ahead. There in a row were six ponies. Their faces were still recovering from what must have been quite the dramatic entrance. Four of them were smiling. Some of those smiles were fake; Hauteclaire put on a fake one of his own.

The King walked forward to the princess. His head was still held high and chest pushed out, but nowhere near as much with his usual, exaggerated strut. The King stopped before the princess and bowed. “Good evening, Princess Twilight Sparkle. I am honored that you have given us a chance to meet again after such events."

The Princess bowed in return. “I am honored to meet you as well, Your Majesty.”

Before the Princess could continue, the King signalled to Porthos with a hand. Porthos walked up beside the King, took off his cap and kneeled. Even on one knee, Porthos was still double the height of the ponies. “I understand my knight, Porthos, has attacked you, your friends, and several of your guards the other day. His punishment is that he is to serve you and your friends as you see fit.”

A tingle of joy swept through Hauteclaire’s body when he heard the King said this. Oh, it must have been Hauteclaire’s birthday.

The orange pony (the letter said her name was Applejack, right?), one of the two that didn’t have a smile, stepped forward. “What about my brother!? Are you gonna punish him for that, too?”

Princess Twilight quickly turned to hush her friend while the other ponies bit their lips, Porthos broke out in sweat and Godiva stopped smiling.

The King didn’t blink. “Applejack, the apple farmer of Sweet Apple Acres, am I correct? I wasn’t aware your brother was the one Porthos injured the other day. Either way, Porthos will be punished for that too, as you see fit, and we will compensate you for any losses we have caused.”

Godiva grabbed at a mace on her side that wasn’t there. “HE DID WHAT!?”

Happy birthday to me. Happy birthday to me.

The King turned slowly to Godiva with a look that said, “Shut up. Your King is talking.” She listened. “While gathering food the other day, Porthos fell on a pony and injured it. Step forward, Godiva.”

Happy birthday, dear Hauteclaire~.

Godiva followed the King’s orders and kneeled opposite of Porthos, her face was contorted with anger and shame.

The King turned back to Twilight. “I also am aware that my knight, Godiva, has caused a lot of damage to your town. She will serve you to make up for damages.”

Happy birthday tooooooooo...

“Hauteclaire,” the King said.

...me?

Hauteclaire stepped forward. The King motioned him to kneel and he kneeled next to Porthos.

“I also understand that my bard, Hauteclaire, has been a nuisance and may have used unnecessary force against some of your subjects,” said the King. “You may punish him and he will serve you as you wish.”

Oh what the… That bastard. How dare he? HOW DARE HE!

The King kneeled as well. “My court and I have been, unfortunately, quite destructive during our brief time here. I, too, have used my magic on your friends and subjects and take responsibility for what I have done. I will take responsibility for my entire court, and I hope we can make make peace between equine and rodent.”

Serpent-tongued, two-faced devil.

Hauteclaire peeked up at the ponies. Not a single one of them was smiling. Mouths were open, eyelids were twitching, and brows were furrowed. Whatever it was they were expecting, it wasn’t this.

The ponies behind Twilight whispered to one another while the Princess scratched her head. “Ummm. You don’t need to do that. You explained yourself rather well back in the castle.”

The King raised his head, “Ah, but that was before I understood the full extent of my court’s actions. When we first met, I had no idea you were attacked or had close friends injured because of me. I would be a terrible king if I didn’t offer my apologies and compensation for my court’s misdeeds.”

Twilight looked back at the rest, and they looked back at her. She turned back to the Mouse King. “Well, I accept your apologies and your offers for help. Porthos can help Applejack at Sweet Apple Acres, and we’ll find other ways for you and your court to help with the repairs.”

The King stood up and relieved the air of the strangling tension. “Alright. Now that that has been said, let’s start with the introductions!” He clapped his hands and the court all stood (except for Marcus, he was standing the whole time) and lined up. One by one, the court stepped forward and made their introductions.

“Marcus. The Mouse King’s Poet, Advisor, Knight, Archer, and Cook.”

“Godiva! The Mouse King’s Black Knight, Cavalry and Scout!”

“Porthos. The Mouse King’s Knight, Sheriff and Bodyguard.”

“And I’m Hauteclaire. The King’s Bard.”

“And I am the Mouse King, Supreme Monarch of the Isle of Mouse. It is a pleasure to meet you all.”

Stupid, stupid titles.

The ponies began to relax a bit. Pinkie Pie, the pony who Hauteclaire had made the pleasure of pissing off earlier, was shaking. Was it fear, nervousness, or excitement?

“OH, WOW! THAT WAS SO COOL!”

Excitement.

“GIRLS, LINE UP!”

The other ponies tried to stop her or talk her out of it, but to no avail. Pinkie corralled her friends and lined them up. With all the energy and enthusiasm that came from her, Hauteclaire was convinced this pony could herd cats. Once Pinkie got all of her friends in place, she ran to the far end of the line and stepped forward.

“Pinkie Pie! The Element of Laughter, Party Planner Extraordinaire and Apprentice Baker!”

Pinkie Pie turned to her friends who stared back at her. The cyan pegasus next to her rolled her eyes and stepped forward; the rest followed suit, although their enthusiasm didn’t match Pinkie’s.

“Rainbow Dash. Element of Loyalty, future Wonderbolt, and Weather Manager of Ponyville.”

“Rarity. Element of Generosity and Fashion Designer.”

“Applejack. Element of Honesty and Apple Farmer.”

“Ummm, Fluttershy. Element of Kindness and I take care of animals.”

“Twilight Sparkle. Element of Magic, Princess and student of Princess Celestia."

And that is how the Mouse King’s court met the ponies.

Author's Note

Next time on AGOKAPPP:

The Court of the Mouse King goes to their welcome party. And... some stuff happens. Like, yeah. Stuff. What do you think is going to happen?