Chapter Text
“This is not my idea (this isn't my idea) of fun.” - This Is My Idea, Swan Princess
Arranged marriages were not Max’s idea of a good time.
Okay, maybe he was jumping the gun a bit. No one was engaged yet, but as King Mickey’s godson Max had been invited to Warnerstock personally. Everyone, even Goofy who usually didn’t care about these things, acknowledged that Max was in with a very good shot.
A very good shot of what exactly? Oh, nothing much, just signing his life over.
Otherwise known as securing an engagement to Prince Yakko Warner. No thanks. Max was seventeen, he had no intention of settling down any time soon, and from what he’d heard neither did Prince Yakko.
But he’d been invited, on personal invitation from King William, so he had to go as Mickey patiently pointed out.
“You’re kidding me!” Max had cried, back in Mickey’s throne room. “No way!”
“Prince Yakko is about to turn sixteen,” Mickey said. “No one’s seriously expecting him to get married yet- or even engaged. It’s just a formality, Maxy, a tradition; he’s just supposed to meet everyone and see if he likes anyone. Nothing formal or serious will be agreed; it’s just to introduce him now that he’s going to be of age.”
“But- me?” Max sputtered. “I’m not even a prince!”
“You’re my godson,” Mickey said with a shrug. “William wrote himself to invite you.”
“It could be fun, Maxy!” Goofy said. “It’s a bunch of parties and balls.”
“It’s dumb,” Max said flatly. “Especially if Prince Yakko doesn’t even wanna go along with it.”
Be that as it may, all the adults agreed that Max was going to go.
At least he got to bring PJ.
That was how he found himself on a ship bound for Warnerstock, joined by his dad, PJ, and a small group of guards and servants.
This was a waste of time, Max was sure of it. He didn’t want to go and pretend to court some prince he’d never met, and all he’d heard was that Prince Yakko was causing mayhem, pranking every suitor that turned up and declaring them boring, before promptly ignoring them.
He didn’t fancy travelling across an ocean just to get pranked.
Evidently, what Max wanted didn’t matter.
Warnerstock was beautiful, Max had to admit. They docked in a lovely seaside town; it was the middle of summer and bright yellow banners flew high. Flowers were tied to lamposts, the sun shone high in the sky. Everywhere he looked, people seemed to be smiling.
It was a beautiful, happy place, and his own mood darkened as they made their way to Acme Falls.
PJ pointed out historical landmarks, Goofy sang and cracked jokes, but Max couldn’t bring himself to join in.
This was all so stupid. Had they seriously come all this way just so Max could make an ass of himself? At least there’d be plenty of parties to distract himself with, he supposed. Though no doubt, they'd be what he'd dubbed grown-up parties. Parties about schmoozing and pretending to get along.
Politics, Max was sure, were a big waste of time. Especially when the politics involved feigning an interest in some random prince, who doubtless wasn’t eager to meet Max either.
It took two days of travel to arrive in Acme Falls. By the time they reached the city, Max was completely out of patience. He rode on his horse, scowling, a dark cloud over his head that Goofy tried to wave away.
“Jeez, Maxy, any more pouting and that thing’ll start raining,” Goofy warned.
“I don’t care,” Max snapped. Goofy sighed and finally succeeded in waving the cloud away.
“It’s just saying hello and a few parties,” Goofy said, giving him a wry smile. “You like parties.”
“And if I don’t fawn all over this guy then I’ll land Mickey in trouble,” Max pointed out.
“So just act nice,” PJ said. “Smile and nod, and it’ll be over with.”
Max threw his head back and groaned in frustration.
Yes, he liked parties, but he didn’t like these grown-up formal events where there was nothing to do but sit around and listen to people talk about politics. He didn’t exactly relish the idea of arriving only to be pranked by Yakko- or worse, Yakko and his siblings.
Yakko’s birthday was in a week. They were some of the last to arrive.
They rode through the gate, the guards bowing to them. A particularly helpful pair directed them to the stables.
Max had just climbed down off his horse when there was a gleeful shout and another horse came galloping into the stables, barely stopping before running Max and the stable-hand over.
Max jerked back as the horse skidded to a halt in front of him, tripped over a bucket and crashed right into the wall, landing on his rump in the hay. The stable-hand, meanwhile, had jumped out of the way with what could only be practiced precision.
“Sorry!” the horse rider laughed. He jumped down off his horse with a flourish. He was a toon like Max- and yet not like Max at all. Max wasn’t sure what this kid was supposed to be. A puppy? A rabbit? Some weird cat?
He was tiny, only standing as tall as Max’s chin. His fur was inky black, white on his face; his nose was bright red, his eyes were black. His clothes- a pair of brown slacks and a deep green riding jacket- were mud-spattered and dust clung to his fur. He looked at Max and laughed again.
“My bad,” the boy said, still chuckling.
Whatever was left of Max’s patience promptly vanished.
“Yeah, your bad,” he snapped. He hauled himself up and picked strands of hay from his hair and off his clothes. His dad and PJ entered the stables; behind them two more toons hurried in on horses, miniature versions of the boy. They were also covered in mud and dust, their fur standing on end.
The boy quirked an eyebrow, hands on his skinny hips.
“Jeez, it’s just hay,” he said. “No harm done.”
“That’s what you think,” Max said. He glared down at him. The boy just stared back unimpressed. “Watch where you’re going, would you? You could have ridden me down!”
“Next time I won’t miss,” the boy said flatly. He dusted down his slacks (not that it did much good) and looked at the gaping stable-hand. “You okay?” he asked, much more kindly.
“I- yes, Your-”
The boy’s eyes narrowed. The stable hand said, “Yes, sir.”
The other two toons (the boy’s siblings, Max assumed) climbed down off their own horses, looking at Max with narrowed eyes, clearly unimpressed.
The boy looked Max up and down, then glanced at PJ and Goofy. He spotted Mickey’s insignia on Goofy’s jacket and there was a flash of understanding in his eyes.
“Oh,” he drawled. “Here to pay court to the prince, hm?”
“Sadly,” Max snarked.
“Hey!” the younger toon boy protested. He had the oddest accent. “You’d be lucky if he looked twice at you!”
The girl promptly pulled out a mallet.
“Maxy, be nice!” Goofy ordered.
“Sadly,” the toon boy drawled, sarcasm practically radiating from him. “Don’t worry, buddy, I don’t think he’ll be thrilled with you either.”
“Hey,” PJ spoke up, though quietly. He gave the girl and her mallet a wary glance.
The stable-hand looked like he wished he was anywhere else.
“And I suppose you’d know?” Max asked, copying the boy’s tone and stance.
The boy smirked, amusement glinting in his dark eyes.
“I’d know pretty well,” he said.
“Are you Prince Yakko’s servant?” PJ asked.
There was a moment’s pause before the girl began to laugh. Wrong-footed, Max stepped back, looking at her in bewilderment. The younger boy clapped his hands over his mouth, snickering.
But the older boy grinned brightly. He tapped his nose at PJ. “Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” He took his siblings by the shoulders and steered them towards the door. “Come on, sibs.” His voice wavered as he fought back laughter. “Let’s go-” He snickered. “Attend to the prince.”
The three of them cackled as they walked away.
Max was left with the horrible feeling that he was missing something. Was that boy one of Yakko’s attendants? If so, he was no doubt going to tell the prince that Max had snapped at him.
Great, Max thought. He began to pull the hay from his hair and clothes again. Just great.
They were escorted to their rooms and allowed to bathe and change before being brought to meet Queen Angelina and King William.
They met in the throne room, a large room with a high-ceiling; a long blue carpet ran from the doors to the matching thrones. Blue and gold banners hung from the walls and a large banner of the Warner crest was behind the thrones.
Angelina and William smiled at them; she was in a purple gown and as beautiful as he’d always heard. William’s eyebrows and moustache had grown grey, but his smile was warm and welcoming; his red robes were immaculate.
Then the doors opened and, quite plainly, things went to hell.
Three toons walked in, escorted by guards. Max took one look at them and wanted the floor to open up and swallow him as understanding crashed down on him.
The smaller toons led the way; the girl was in a shimmering pink dress and a diamond tiara. She took one look at Max and gave him a mean little smirk, her pretty dark eyes narrowing. She was arm in arm with a boy in a red cap and dark blue suit; his tongue poked out but the look he shot Max screamed trouble. The kids from the stables. It was the kids from the stables.
Oh no, was his only coherent thought.
And right behind them, head held high, a glittering coronet on his head, the Warner badge pinned to his chest and dressed immaculately in green and gold was-
“You?” Max burst out. PJ gave a horrified groan. Even Goofy looked worried, cringing back as the trio- as the Warner siblings- approached.
The boy from the stables, Crown Prince Yakko Warner, gave Max an absolutely vicious smile.
“Duke Max Goof, isn’t it?” he asked, all false sweetness. His bow was mocking, his eyes sparkled with absolute mischief. “Prince Yakko Warner.”