Well, after that very bizarre and somewhat humiliating first meeting, the ponies and mice (and rat) finally loosened up and talked. At first, it was just recounting what each party had done and what was said when language was a barrier neither side could cross. Hauteclaire learned what the King had told the ponies back when they first met them in the crystal castle.

The truth.

Well, as much of the truth as he wanted to tell. It technically wasn’t lying when you leave out details. So according to what the ponies knew, the Court of the Mouse King had been exiled from their home long ago and were now cursed and roamed aimlessly until certain conditions were met back home that were beyond their control. The court had been reduced to a group of nomads, sleeping wherever they could find shelter, hiding from the locals and stealing food, because at every place they’d been to they’d been chased away like vermin.

That was all one hundred percent true.

Back at the crystal castle, the Mouse King had also made a short quip about how Hauteclaire’s attitude didn’t match the sun on his face and made the ponies laugh.

That may have also been true, but it was hard for Hauteclaire to be sunny around the Mouse King.

The court, in turn, learned about what went on with the ponies. It turned out that Godiva had crashed into an emergency town meeting. Rumors and panic were spreading because of recent sightings of a “strange black shadow carrying a pony head on a spike” (Godiva), creature attacks on farms and farmers (Godiva and Porthos respectively), things being stolen (the Mouse King’s summoning magic), and the horror stories being spread by scared pegasi (again, entirely the King’s fault).

After Godiva’s little “incident” with the ponies, Twilight Sparkle, Applejack, and Rainbow Dash with a group of soldiers had gone to the castle to find out just what was going on while the others stayed behind to look after Ponyville. When they got to the castle, they were attacked by a “slightly” intoxicated Porthos. According to Rainbow Dash, Porthos started the fight by spitting chewed-up apple pie all over Applejack’s face. Porthos, however, claimed that Applejack yelled at him and jabbed him without provocation and Rainbow kicked him in the head first. Either way, Marcus heard the commotion and felled Porthos with an arrow before he could hurt anybody. Marcus afterwards did his best to mime his apologies before a pegasus came and told the ponies about an incident at the castle, and with a flash of light, all of the ponies disappeared.

Oh, and the dragon Hauteclaire used “unnecessary force” on was the Princess’ assistant. Fantastic. And that dragon wrote to another princess for help after it heard all the rumors from the ponies outside, even after Pinkie Pie told him that Fluttershy wasn’t in danger. The dragon convinced himself that Pinkie may have been a “changer” or something and sent the other princes an emergency request for help, claiming that Twilight’s castle was under siege. So now Hauteclaire had pissed off two princesses. Oh well, at least he would be looking forward to meeting the Sun Queen; hopefully he had left a better first impression on her.

So, after a bit more chit chat, the ponies and the court made their way to Ponyville. Hauteclaire rolled his eyes everytime he heard that name. He knew he’d better get used to it, though; this might be a long vacation.

Or a short one. Either way, he’d be hearing that name a lot.

Ponyville was in sight in the distance from the path the court and the ponies were taking. On both sides of the path were rows and rows of apple trees. Hauteclaire learned that this was part of the Sweet Apple Acres orchard that Applejack worked in, the same orchard in which Porthos had fallen on her big brother, Big Macintosh, and broken his legs. The bloke was in a hospital, and Applejack was still furious at Porthos despite his apologies.

Which was probably why she wasn’t walking beside him. She was walking next to Marcus. Both of them wore large, brown hats, so they already had a lot in common.

Up in front, the Mouse King and Twilight were debating about magic and leadership techniques and what have you. It was quite funny to see how the King, the shortest of the group, had to quickly walk to keep up with Twilight.

Godiva was by the side chattering away with Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash (who was STILL flying. Did she live in the sky or something?). She seemed to be challenging Rainbow Dash to a race, but Marcus quickly snubbed out any hope of fun once he caught wind of it. He didn’t want Godiva to smash any more property than she already had. Marcus still failed to catch wind of why Godiva was picking at a wedgie earlier. On her lower back under her dress were the outlines of a couple of brushes and combs. Porthos wasn’t the only one to try smuggling something under Marcus’ nose.

Speaking of Porthos, none of the ponies dared to get close to him. Perhaps they were scared he would fall on them just like he did to Big Mac. Hauteclaire bet if Knebryter wasn’t the husk he was now, he too would have tried to wiggle his way out of Porthos’ belt.

That left Hauteclaire trailing in the back with the last two ponies: the fashionista, Rarity, and the hyperactive party planner, Pinkie Pie. “...so when we got that letter from you saying that you were homeless, I was so sad I cried, and then I thought a party would be great to cheer you up! No wonder you were so grumpy yesterday! And when the letter said that you were so moved by how nice Fluttershy treated one of your own that you thought about giving pony society a chance and came to learn the language so you could try to get to know ponies better, I just knew I had to throw you a big, big, BIG party to welcome you to Equestria! So I convinced Twilight to let me throw you a big ‘Welcome to Ponyville’ Party! The whole town will be there, and...”

Oh lord, she’s worse than Godiva. “Um. Thank you, Miss Pie. That is rather nice of you.”

Pinkie giggled. “Oh, you don’t have to call me ‘Miss!’ We’re friends! Just call me Pinkie! Or whenever you need a party!”

And she loves terrible jokes just like the King. Fantastic.

Rarity must have sensed Hauteclaire’s growing weariness of the over-excited Pinkie Pie, so she took over the conversation. “Now, Hauteclaire, I really like your outfit. The blues of your clothes really goes with the gold buttons and your mask. With your white fur, it’s like a sun coming out from behind a cloud on a beautiful summer’s day!”

Wow. That was... actually very nice. “Well thank you very much, Miss Rarity. Clothes are very important, as what we wear is a good indicator of our character and values. Working with clothes yourself, I bet you understand that better than even I do.”

“So, why are you wearing a cape and a mask? Is your character a superhero?” said Pinkie Pie pointing a hoof at the mask. Rarity winced at Pinkie’s bluntness.

Oh yeah, we cut out the part about my mask in the final letter. “One, this is not a cape. This is a herigaut. A garment worn by those of the upper class where we’re from. Notice how it comes around at half length in the front and the blue fabric on the outside with gold on the underside? It is no cape. And two--” Hauteclaire slapped Pinkie’s hoof away-- “don’t touch the mask.”

That didn’t stop the pink menace. “Why? What is wrong with the mask? Is it fragile? Expensive? It looks like it was made out of gold! Is it like some Phantom of the Opera thing and you’re using it to hide your hideous face that made your mother run away? Or...”

Rarity quickly covered her friend’s mouth with a hoof, although Hauteclaire wished she did so much sooner. “Oooohoho, Pinkie.” Rarity let out a fake laugh. “Please excuse her; she is very curious and excited to see such new, fascinating ponies, er… friends that she can hardly control herself. Isn’t that right, Pinkie?”

Pinkie’s muffled an agreement through Rarity’s hoof. At least one of them understood tact.

“I see, Miss.” Hauteclaire picked up the pace to catch up with the rest of the group.

Rarity let go of Pinkie and trotted up to Hauteclaire’s side. “Oh, you don’t have to use titles here. Names alone will do just fine, Hauteclaire.” She put on another genuine smile. “And I really like your name. Hauteclaire. Does it have a particular meaning?”

“Why thank you for asking. Hauteclaire means ‘high and neat'. Does your name have a special meaning to it, too?” Ok, what is going on? Why is this pony being so nice?

Rarity opened her mouth but Pinkie replied instead. “It means she’s a real gem! Isn’t that right, Rarity?”

Rarity giggled at her friend's quick rebound from irritable from tolerable. “Well, you’ll never find a mare like me here in Ponyville. I have also been told I have a knack for finding and bringing out the rare inner beauty of ponies.”

Pinkie skipped up along side of Hauteclaire. “And she can find gems, too! Speaking of gems, why is your body full of holes filled with diamonds and dirt? Are you part diamond dog? Have you been eating too much swiss cheese? You know what they say, ‘You are what you eat!’”

And now she was inching back into irritable. At least that question Hauteclaire could answer. “It’s very simple. My body is incomplete.”

Pinkie pushed Rarity’s hoof away from her mouth. “Incomplete? What does that mean?”

“It’s part of our curse. Shortly after our King saved our lives, our bodies shattered and have slowly been reappearing bit-by-bit. Everything from organs to memories has been lost; we’ve spent centuries without them. Our curse fills in the holes with whatever is available around us. As time goes on, we sometimes regain some more of us, and other times we lose stuff. It is completely beyond our control. Why, we had to relearn English in order to speak with you.”

Rarity gasped. “You’ve lost your memories and have been living like this for centuries? How terrible!”

Pinkie rose her hoof. “What’s English?”

“I beg your pardon?”

Rarity put down Pinkie’s hoof. “Darling, you’re not speaking English, you’re speaking Equestrian. Perhaps Equestrian is very similar to a language you know?”

Oh, so this is one of those worlds with a slightly different “English” than the others. “It’s possible.”

"WE’RE HERE!” Godiva was bouncing next to an upside-down, stiff-legged Fluttershy.

Godiva and Pinkie Pie might have been the only ones truly excited about the court's arrival. They didn’t notice the glares and stares strewn about the town among the many streamers, balloons, tables full of food and punch, and a giant banner above a raised stage that said, to his disgust, “Welcome to Ponyville Mouse King, Lady Godiva, Sir Marcus, Sir Porthos, and Hauteclai”.

It also seemed that Godiva and Pinkie were also the only ones oblivious to the tension in the air that could strangle a hydra. Twilight mentioned that she had held yet another town meeting this morning explaining the court’s apologies for their unintended trouble and that the court would make a public apology (something Marcus had added into the letter).

Pinkie produced a cannon from lord-knows-where, but Twilight held up a hoof, and Pinkie plopped down on her rump with a frown on her face. Twilight stepped up on the platform and in front of a microphone. “Good afternoon, mares and gentlecolts! Thank you so much for coming to the welcoming party of the Mouse King and his court.” Twilight paused for an applause that didn’t come. “I know we got off on the wrong hoof, but the King has something he would like to say to everypony in Ponyville. Please give him your undivided attention.”

She stepped aside and the King stood up to the microphone. Twilight adjusted it for him with her glowing, magical horn while the King concentrated his eyes on the microphone. Perhaps he was concentrating a little too hard, as he didn’t hear the boos and hisses that came from the crowd (or maybe he heard but just didn’t care). He tapped the mic twice and heard the speakers give out two thumps; the whole time his forehead was scrunched up like a used napkin. You’d think he’d never seen a microphone before.

The King shook the dire expression from his face. “Good afternoon, citizens of Ponyville.” The booing continued. “I am the Mouse King of the Isle of Mouse, and I am here to apologize for the damage my court and I have caused, and hope to make peace with all of you.”

“Why did you ruin my carrots!?”

“Why did you attack us!?”

“Why did you steal my wine!?”

“Why did you scare so many ponies!?”

The complaints rushed in from all sides, but none of them moved the King from his stance. “If you will please settle down, I will answer you all one at a time.” With a wave of his hand, Marcus came up to the King’s side, reached up into his hat without taking it off, and pulled out a clipboard and a pencil. He stuck the dull end into his ear and pulled it out after a few seconds, the end of the pencil now sharp. This perturbed many of the ponies. The King pointed out an orange mare that stepped forward from the crowd first with a complaint. “You, miss. What can I do for you?”

The mare looked around, nervous about being singled out in an angry mob, but that only held her back for a few seconds. “You ruined my carrots! There are a bunch of holes in my gardens and carrots have been thrown everywhere! My fences have been destroyed, too! I demand compensation!”

The King never looked away from the mare. “And you will get it. How can we compensate you?”

The mare opened her mouth but didn’t speak. Instead, she just stood there; her front hoof that had been jabbed in the King’s direction eased itself back down to earth. The anger in her eyes gave way to confusion for a few moments before she put on another front. “That was several days’ worth of stock and many hard weeks of labor! I demand that you provide monetary compensation for all my losses and rebuild my fences!” Marcus scribbled away on his clipboard.

“What is your name, orange pony?”

The mare turned its head and looked at the king from one side. “...Golden Harvest.”

Marcus scratched in Golden Harvest’s name on his notes.

“Well, Golden Harvest, please come see my advisor Marcus later in the crystal castle. We will go over the damages and pay you what Princess Twilight Sparkle feels is a reasonable amount for your troubles. We will also rebuild your fence for you. Before that, I must apologize for my knight Godiva. She runs so fast that she tears up the earth beneath her. She never meant to do you any harm; it was just a unfortunate accident. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

Golden Harvest’s anger was deflated and seemed to have a similar effect on the ponies around her. “Uh… no. That's it…”

The King pointed to the stallion next to her. “And what was your complaint, sir?”

“My name is Time Turner and I work with the clock tower that the ‘black knight’ ran several holes through...”

Godiva looked down in shame. She came to have a good time, and now she would have to hear about all the bad things she had done. She wiped her eyes with her forearm while Porthos rubbed her neck and shoulders with one hand.

Hauteclaire crossed his arms. He looked back at the six ponies that greeted them, and there, next to Twilight, was the dragon from earlier. It was giving him the stink eye.

What a fantastic way to start a party.

“LET’S GET THIS PARTY STARTED!” Pinkie pressed a button on the cannon and fired glitter and balloons into the sky.

After what had been about an hour of nothing but listening to complaints and apologizing, the crowd warmed up to the court; and with a signal from Twilight, Pinkie Pie started the party with a blast of confetti. Before the confetti could settle, ponies came rushing forth, asking all manner of questions and offering plates upon plates of food. Well, they didn’t get too close to Porthos.

The King held up his hands, and the clamor died down. “It seems you all wish to know where we come from, eh?” Hauteclaire felt his arm being grabbed by the King and was thrusted in front of the mic. “Hauteclaire shall sing a song of our story for you!” The crowd erupted into cheers.

“Oh no, you don’t want me to sing that song, do you?”

The King smiled and pulled Hauteclaire close. “Why, yes, Hauteclaire. I do declare. Liven this air, with a song so fair, to swoon the mares, and even their mayor, or I swear, on your head you’ll wear, your white derriere, you prickly pear. Now get up there!”

Hauteclaire climbed up on the stage as the King announced loudly, “Now, my bard Hauteclaire will perform a song written by my poet, Marcus!” Hauteclaire sighed, waved his hand and a bunch of Hauteclaire copies emerged from the ground and took the stage. The ponies “ooh”ed and “aah”ed as the chorus took place. The real Hauteclaire took center stage and prepared himself to sing the song that he and Marcus had written long ago (and Hauteclaire changed so much it barely resembled Marcus’ first mess, but a few of his horrid rhymes still slipped through).

As Hauteclaire waited for the ponies to settle down, he decided to change the first lyric to be more suitable for his audience. Once he had the entire town’s attention, he and his chorus started to sing.

Little ponies, gather ‘round please, and I’ll tell you all a tale,

about one slaved, who danger braved, and his acts that would entail.

Magic stunning, and his cunning, took the castle without fail.

He threw out the duke, and crowned himself the island’s king.

Our Great Mouse King! Schools and roads and more he built!

Our Great Mouse King! Only he pulls off a kilt!

Our Great Mouse King!

There are none like him!

His dream is to help us all!

The Shield Bearer, the duke’s terror, tore the Mouse King from his throne.

We the faithfuls, the King’s angels, saved his neck from axe and stone.

The duke’s ire, burnt like fire, turned his subjects to our own.

With our new-found friends, we took our home back with our king.

Our Great Mouse King! For his kindness is well known!

Our Great Mouse King! He’s the ice cream to our cone!

Our Great Mouse King!

There are none like him!

His dream is to help us all!

The duke stubborn, sold his mother, for the power to raise hell.

Summoned evils, teeth like needles, from the shadows they did dwell.

With his last spell, as the King fell, while he tried the gods repel,

with a magic blast, we owe our lives to our great king!

Our Great Mouse King! No one’s more munificent!

Our Great Mouse King! He tips ninety nine percent!

Our Great Mouse King!

There are none like him!

His dream is to save us all!

Oh, Great Mouse King! How much longer must you roam?

Oh, Great Mouse King! We await our “welcome home.”

Our Great Mouse King!

There are none like him!

His dream is peace for us all!

When Hauteclaire stopped singing, he opened his eyes. In front of him were a bunch of silent ponies with their mouths hanging open. One started to stomp the ground, and the rest followed suit. Oh great, I knew this song was bad, but not bad enough to start a stampede. The stomping grew louder, cheering and whistling roared over the thumping of hooves. ...Or that is how ponies applaud.

Pinkie Pie rushed up and snatched Hauteclaire up in a tight hug. “That was AMAZING! We are going to have to sing together sometime!” A bunch of other ponies followed suit and dogpiled Hauteclaire before throwing him up in the air.

“THE MASK! DON’T TOUCH THE MASK!”

What followed was a continuous flow of food, questions, and entertainment. After a while of chatting, Pinkie Pie announced that the entertainment was to begin. The court and the six ponies (and dragon) took their seats while the rest of the town gathered in front of the stage. Among the entertainment was a pony with a lyre, a pony with a cello, and a puppet show.

Guess which one the King enjoyed the most.

The ponies entertaining foreign royalty gave the King an idea. After giving a standing ovation to the puppet show, the King turned around and faced his court. “Alright, fellas! Let’s entertain the ponies for a change!”

“On it, sir!” Porthos jumped at the opportunity and rushed out onto the stage, his enthusiasm startled several ponies in the crowd. Once he was out in the center of the stage, he threw up a hand. “Somebody give me a bottle of wine! I’m going to perform a magic trick!” The smile disappeared from Marcus’ face.

The ponies began to mumble until a grey pegasus with a blonde mane stepped forward with a bottle. “Sorry, but we don’t have any alcoholic wine at this party (there are children present), but we do have plenty of punch!” Porthos’ posture slackened a bit as he thanked the pony and took the bottle. After looking at the bottle for a few moments, Porthos straightened out his back again.

“Ponies! Watch as I make this bottle of punch disappear!” A purple pony in the crowd shouted, “We already know this trick! I do it all the time.” A wave of laughter swept through the crowds as Porthos lifted the bottle over his head. “Bibamus papaliter!” He put the bottle to his lips.

*SHUNK*

The bottle was empty.

The ponies stared with mouths agape as Porthos let out a enormous belch. “DAAAAYYUMMMMM!” said the purple pony, and the crowd broke into applause.

Porthos looked around with an eyebrow lifted. “That wasn’t the trick." He threw the bottle up in the air, did a little dainty twirl, caught it in his mouth, chewed, and swallowed. “TA-DA!”

All cheering stopped.

Pinkie leaned over to Hauteclaire. “Geesh, that is going to hurt coming out!”

Rainbow Dash spat out the punch in her mouth and laughed, and Rarity stuck out her tongue and *blech*ed.

The Mouse King stood up with his hands around his mouth. “Juggle, Porthos! Juggle! Juggle! Juggle!”

Porthos made the “OK” sign with his hand and looked around, but finding nothing suitable for juggling, he went with the next best thing. “I’m going to need three volunteers. Let’s see… Who wants to help me juggle?”

The crowd mumbled, but nobody stepped forward. Porthos turned to some fillies that were unfortunate enough to be the closest to the stage. “You three will do nicely!” The three of them squeaked as Porthos’ massive fingers wrapped around a filly with a bow, a unicorn with curly hair, and an orange chicken (no, wait, pegasus) and he started to juggle them.

Applejack jumped out of her seat. “APPLEBLOOM!”

Marcus put a hand on her withers. “She’ll be alright, she will! Porthos knows what he is doing, he does. He does this all the time, he does.”

Yeah, with ME, and he DROPS me all the time.

Applejack pulled away from Marcus’ touch. “Nuh-uh. I ain’t letting that thing touch my baby sister!” She pushed her way through the crowd of ponies, jumped on the stage, ran up to Porthos and jabbed a hoof at him. “Put my sister down, NOW!”

Porthos stopped juggling the three giggling fillies and put them down; Porthos dropped his smile. “I’m terribly sorry, lass. I was just trying to have fun.”

Applebloom and her friends tried to say something to Applejack, but she wouldn’t listen as she herded them away from Porthos. She turned to the giant rat. “And I don’t want you near her again!”

Porthos looked out at the crowd and the crowd stared back at him as they whispered to one another. Porthos looked back up at the King. “I don’t feel like juggling right now, sir.”

The ponies gave him a wide berth as he returned to his undersized chair.

After the dampening display that was Porthos’ attempt at entertainment, Marcus went into overdrive trying to recover the mood with his archery skills.

And it was working.

He had Godiva set up targets all over town square, while keeping a reasonable pace so she wouldn’t wreck the place, and then took them out one by one. With each shot, he made it more challenging. One shot he fired while holding his bow behind him. One shot was done while doing a handstand as he held the bow and fired an arrow with his feet and tail. One shot was aimed at a target Godiva put on top of town hall. The next target was placed at the other end of town; Rainbow Dash was sent to confirm that the shot hit its mark.

For one of his displays, Marcus put a target right in front of him and turned it to face the other direction. He had Twilight write her name on an arroww and he shot it off the other direction.

“And now, while we wait for the arrow to come back, let me recite a poem of mine, let me.”

Oh no.

“*Ahem*

At where my heart may lay, be

a lovely future I see.

Not one, nor two offspring, but

sextuplets named Brant, Chestnut,

Barret and Garrett, Grant and

Ichabod. The future grand

with passion that did the trick:

lit my heart aflame with thick

fires of love. My honey-boo,

be with me, ‘till dead and blue.”

Marcus gave a bow. All around there was a wide range of reactions. Some mares were flustered. Most of the stallions were queasy. Did Rarity swoon? What is going on? That was terrible.

Pinkie was holding both of her front hooves over her mouth, her cheeks were puffed up, her eyes were watering, and she was snorting and giggling like a madmare. What has gotten into her?

Anyway, after he got up from a bow he looked off into the distance, and as if on cue an arrow came and hit the target. Dead center.

Twilight was called forth to inspect the arrow, and what she found astounded her. Not only was her name still on the arrow, but several postcards and pamphlets from places like “Las Pegasus” and “Germane,” “Prance,” “The Neighderlands,” “The Shetland Isles” and “Neighpon” were skewered on it.

Some accused him of trickery, but if they only knew how he really did it, it would blow their minds.

That was why he called it his “round the world” trick.

After these impressive displays, Marcus started yapping about how in their world, firing arrows while on horseback was very tricky and required a lot of skill. He issued a challenge to the fastest pony there that would let him ride him/her as the pony ran or flew through a street full of targets as fast as they could, he would pay up a hefty reward if the pony could run or fly fast enough that he couldn’t hit all of the targets.

If it was OK, of course.

This got the crowd excited (and made Godiva pout), and as soon as Marcus was finished speaking, in front of him floated Rainbow Dash. “You talk big, but can you back it up? I bet I’m way too awesome for you!”

The crowd “ooh”ed at Rainbow’s challenge.

Marcus’ smile grew. “Oh, I’m sure I can manage, I can. You don’t seem all that fast to me, you don’t.”

“Ooooohhhhh!”

“Oh yeah? They don’t call me Rainbow Dash for nothing! Check this out!” Rainbow zipped into the air, crashed through some clouds, spun around a windmill and came to a sudden stop right in front of Marcus. Condensed water from the clouds that trailed behind her splashed against her flank and formed a rainbow halo around her. “How’s that!? Still think you ‘can manage’?”

“OOOOooohhhh!”

Marcus’ smile grew larger and shrugged. “I’ve seen faster, I have.”

“OOOOOOOHHHHH SNAP!”

Rainbow stopped grinning. “That hat must be too tight! We’ll see how big that smile of yours is once I’ve won that big reward of yours!”

“OOOOOOOOOOOOHHHH!” (“YOU SHOW HIM, GIRL!” shouted Pinkie.)

Rainbow and Marcus lined up at the end of the street. All the way from the halfway point to the end were targets set up by Godiva. The whole time she set them up, she complained about Marcus getting to ride ponies. Yeah, that was a little unfair, but at least Marcus would ask for permission first. And he did.

He walked up next to Rainbow. “May I mount you, may I?”

“You gotta buy me dinner first!” She cracked her tail like a whip. The crowd exploded in laughter at Rainbow’s quick wit while Marcus turned red with embarrassment. Or he would if he could. Last time they checked, the court didn’t have blood.

Marcus got on Rainbow’s back and steadied himself. Godiva pouted and mumbled something rather ungirly.

With the road cleared in case of any accidents, the orange filly from earlier (turned out her name was Scootaloo. What is it with these names?) was the only one ahead of them by a short distance with a flag in her mouth. She shouted through her teeth, “ARE YEW REDY? HREE! TU! WUN!” and brought down the flag. Rainbow tore down the street and passed Scootaloo before the flag was all the way down.

No pony could see how it happened, but it happened. At the end of the street the rainbow blur stopped and Marcus fell off of Rainbow. The joys of riding bareback.

Rainbow was laughing and pointing at Marcus. “Ha! Pay up! Maybe I should buy you a new hat so you can actually see what’s right in front of you!”

Marcus lifted himself of the ground and fixed his hat. “Oh, I wouldn’t be too sure about that, I wouldn’t. Go ask the judges.”

Already, Pinkie Pie and Scootaloo were running down the street and checking each target. “He got this one!” “This one, too!” “This one’s a bull’s eye!” “No way! He hit this one twice!” “HE GOT THEM ALL!”

The crowd was, perhaps for the twentieth time today, dumbfounded. Rainbow herself had a hard time believing it. “But, how?”

Marcus smiled. “Easy.”

He turned to a tree, pulled out a bunch of arrows from his quiver at once, pulled his bow and fired. The arrows all hit the tree at once in the shape of Rainbow Dash’s mark.

“Hey! That’s cheating!”

Marcus smiled. “No it isn’t. I just had to hit all the targets, I had to. If you could have gone faster than it took me to fire a single shot, you could have won, you could have.”

Rainbow glared at Marcus for a moment before it was replaced with a smug smile. “OK. You’re pretty awesome. You won this time.” She stuck out a hoof.

Marcus did the same with his fist. “I lied about seeing anything faster than you, I did.”

Hauteclaire found himself in front of the crowds again. It would have been Godiva, but she wasn’t much a performer, unless you considered her a break dancer. Cause she broke everything. Especially when she danced. Well, she wasn’t to eager to get up away from her seat, anyway, because she had finally scooted it very close to Fluttershy, and anyone who knew Godiva knew what she is planning.

Hauteclaire was thrust out by the King and told to “entertain” everyone. So he and his copies started performing a play he wrote. Hauteclaire was so excited! He hadn’t been able to perform for a crowd in a long time and nearly forgot the joys his original calling in life used to bring him. Back before the exile, he had always had his sights set on becoming a renowned playwright. Despite being immortal, he hadn’t really found the time to work on his art, and now with this perfect opportunity presented to him, how could he pass it up?

Marcus may have whispered in his ear before being thrown to the ponies to just perform another song, but screw Marcus! It was Hauteclaire’s turn to have fun, and he would give these ponies a performance of a lifetime!

He could see it in their half open eyes, their yawns, and their slacking postures how inter… hang on. Those weren’t signs of an audience of a performance of a lifetime. Hauteclaire looked back at the guest seats.

The ponies there had the same expressions. Worse yet, so did the Mouse King, and he was tapping his fingers. His worst critic had an arrow aimed right at his head.

*TWANG*

Marcus let loose the arrow at Hauteclaire, but Hauteclaire quickly leaned to the side and sliced the arrow in two with his dagger.

The sudden movements, the halting of the play, and the collapsing of many Hauteclaire doubles awoke the audience, and they cheered, thinking it was all part of the act.

Marcus leapt up to Hauteclaire, grabbed his ear and whispered, “What are you doing? I said sing a song, I did! Why aren’t you singing, brother?”

Hauteclaire whispered back. “Brother, I am NOT singing another one of OUR songs! I was told to entertain everyone, and I am trying, but you are getting in the way.”

“But brother, you are not entertaining EVERYONE, you aren’t. You know how much the King dislikes your plays, you do.”

“That’s funny, Marcus. It seems to me that the King loves plays AND music but hates them whenever I am involved. I’m not singing another song unless YOU come outright and tell the King WHO does all the work on his beloved songs, or I’m singing one of my own.”

“Hauteclaire. I.. I’m sorry, brother, I am… But please do something different that will please the King, please do! Do some knife tricks or sing...”

“I AM NOT performing any more if YOU’RE going to take credit for my…”

“Do we have a problem?”

The Mouse King had walked into their conversation and pulled down Hauteclaire and Marcus down by their ears. “It seems to me you two have a problem.”

Marcus shook his head. “No, no, my King. We don’t have a problem, we don’t.”

The King pulled Marcus closer. “Then why are you whispering so harshly to each other. Hmmm?” He squeezed extra hard on Hauteclaire’s ear. “By the way, Hauteclaire. You’re a bard. You should know you don’t follow up an exciting act like Marcus’ with a boring play. If you wanted to act, we would have sent you up first to warm them up and set expectations low.”

The King pulled both of them closer. “You two are bickering, I know it, and I’m not going to let this, on top of Porthos’ pathetic display, make me look like less of a King. Now you two are going to follow my lead, or the vacation is off.”

The Mouse King let go of their ears and jumped back in mock horror. “Oh no! Say it isn’t so!” He ran to center stage, flailing his arms. “My bard and my poet are fighting! This is no good. This is no good at all!”

The ponies in the crowd exploded with curiosity and excitement. They talked amongst themselves about what was happening before their eyes.

The King stopped his over dramatic arm waving and turned to the ponies. “There is only one way to settle this! Do any of you ponies know what that is?”

Ponies started throwing out guesses.

“A race!”

“No!”

“A cooking competition?”

“No.”

“A vote!”

“No!”

“Arm wrestling?”

“Closer!”

“A rap battle!”

“No! (But that is a wonderful idea!)”

Oh no, he wouldn’t.

The King held up his hands. “Little ponies! Where we come from, it is a very dangerous world! One must be able to look after himself, or else if they are caught in a fight, it may very well be their last! I’m afraid…”

Oh no, he is.

“...I’m afraid that Marcus and Hauteclaire have challenged each other to a fight to the death.”

Author's Note

Hey. What's this Russian Civil War song glorifying the female fighters who stood against the Russian Empire written in 1940 doing here? It doesn't have anything to do with anything in this chapter!

Next time on AGOKAPPP:

Hauteclaire VS Marcus! Who will be triumphant? PLACE YOUR BETS IN THE COMMENTS!

And Godiva tells everyone about that one time she changed her underwear.

*My editor is the Hauteclaire to my Marcus when it comes to lyric writing