Two Notes Alike

by Doom_Pie

Chapter Two: In the Past

As the days grew shorter and colder, Viviola began preparing for her part in the Nightmare Night orchestra. It was a relatively small act; she had been told that she would be on stage for any time between half an hour and an hour, playing the same two songs over and over for the entertainment of passersby. (This was specifically why Octavia turned down the position. That, and her already busy schedule.) Even so, she took it very seriously, and practiced as often as she possibly could.

As they were eating dinner one night, Viviola asked a question, spoken quickly and intensely before the young mare could stop herself.

“Why did you leave?”

Octavia’s spoon, filled to the brim with soup, wedged in the cleft of her hoof, stopped its upward journey towards her mouth. Octavia looked down at the table involuntarily. She knew exactly what Viviola was talking about, just as well as Viviola knew it was a sore subject with Octavia. The memories came crushing back to the mare, flooding her conscious almost immediately.

Octavia’s leaving Canterlot for Ponyville was no simple matter. She was still young, but was already becoming a well-known cellist. She had just been enrolled by her parents in a school for young talented musicians when she made the announcement one night that she was going to leave that all behind and move to Ponyville, to start her own life.
Naturally, this caused a shock for her family. Especially Viviola – the two were never close, per se, but Viviola still had to deal with the sudden jarring announcement that she wouldn’t see her sister except for the occasional visit and performance attendance.
Their father was worried for Octavia’s safety, and for her success, as she was still young (“Hardly eighteen years old – you’re still practically a filly!”), but their mother, living in Canterlot her whole life and being raised in the typical mindset, was worried more about Octavia’s reputation.

“Of all the places to run away to,” she went on, “Ponyville? That… backwash hick town? When you could be in Canterlot, a respectable cellist, and become the most successful and talented musician Equestria has known? I won’t allow it.”
Octavia was no pushover, however. Not even as a young mare. “Mother, it is not up to you. My success and opportunities as a cellist are my own business. This is my choice to make and I have made it. If you have trouble accepting it, I apologize, but that will certainly not stop me from moving forward.”
Octavia’s father, after a long silence, chose this moment to flare up. “Moving from a high-class society in a well-off household with multiple opportunities laying in wait for you to living alone in Ponyville” – he made sure to accent the pronunciation of the word with thick disgust – “is not moving forward, young mare. I must agree with your mother – this decision of yours is absolutely dreadful.”
The young mare steeled to her parents. She wasn’t putting up with any more of this – her bags were packed and she had arranged for transport, which was waiting patiently outside of their lavish condominium. She was going to leave this argument the same way she left every other – with the last word.
“That is unfortunate,” she said in an uncharacteristically soft tone, like somepony who was cooing their opponent calmly before certain defeat. “I was hoping for a little more support from those who raised me when it came to my independence, but I was foolish. It seems you wish only to hinder my progress. Truly unfortunate.”
With that, she turned, not allowing a rebuttal, and steadily trotted out the door. She didn’t look back – if she had, perhaps she would have seen her younger sister look on in horror from the front door, shocked by the discourse she had just witnessed.
Viviola’s icy stare at her across the table brought Octavia swimming out of her memories. The two stared at each other in heavy silence until the younger spoke.

“You never explained yourself, Octavia. You simply left. To this day, I have no idea what was going on in your head that lead you to that decision, and I didn’t bring it up in these last few weeks because I felt that it would be rude to accept your kindness and then pester you about the past. But my curiosity got the best of me. And I believe after all of these years, I deserve an explanation. A full explanation.”

Octavia subconsciously noted Viviola’s full use of her name. The younger mare was painfully informal on a consistent basis – only when Viviola was completely justified in being furious at Octavia did she mutter the first syllable of her older sister’s name.

The gray mare let out a long sigh and looked back down at her soup bowl, as if she could find the words to say swimming around in it. She had known this was coming, but coming up with something to say always managed to push itself out of her mind. But something in her pushed, and she found herself speaking without her even thinking about it. Something in her decided it was best just to tell her sister how she felt at the time.

“Life in that household was suffocating. Mother only wanted to see us become successful for her own self-validation and Father couldn’t protest to her to save his life.” Octavia knew she sounded spiteful, but she continued.
“I didn’t want to be a cellist because Mother wanted me to, or because Father did, Viviola. I wanted to because I wanted it for me. I couldn’t make that clear to anypony if I was going to stay there. I knew I had to make a life for my own. I’m sorry if you felt I left you there alone, Vivi… I simply had to leave.”

Viviola leaned back as if some rigid support in her had collapsed, taking in this new information. She had never detected any ill feelings between her sister and their parents, not until that night. How could she possibly have missed it? “I don’t understand, sis. Why did you have to leave? We knew you wanted to be a cellist by yourself – anypony could’ve guessed that!”

“No. Any success I made under their care would have been hollow.”

“You would have always been in the spotlight, though!”

“With somepony always standing in the background, pulling the strings!” Octavia yelled. She wasn’t a very emotional pony, but she had simply never forgiven the image she held of her own mother: always working to live her lost dreams through her young fillies. The very thought angered Octavia to the point of rage sometimes.

Viviola was visibly startled by her normally cool-headed sister’s outburst. She averted Octavia’s gaze when she quietly replied, “I didn’t know you felt that way.” Viviola was dealing with an internal conflict. Nopony spoke badly about her mother, who so caringly provided for her fillies… but this wasn’t just anypony. This was Octavia who was belittling their mother, practically exploding after so much as a defense of her name. She knew that Octavia and their mother still had made amends after the night Octavia left, but Viviola had no idea about these feeling in her older sister.

Octavia suddenly realized how she had said her last sentence and her expression quickly changed from one of anger to one of sympathy. “I’m… I’m sorry. I don’t normally talk about it with anypony, so I guess I just… I…” She had no idea how to recover from what she had done. In the long run, a pony losing his or her temper is no big deal, but Octavia knew full well that Viviola was very sensitive to her older sister’s opinion of her, and their family, no matter how brash she may be when they talk. “I’m sorry.”

A long pause preceded any further conversation. Viviola was still thinking about what Octavia said: had their mother really been living vicariously through her fillies? Or was Octavia just being foalish and making up excuses and false situations to cover a rash decision she made in adolescence?
Octavia took this time to reflect on what she had said. Her feelings about her mother were clear, but did she word it correctly? She didn’t hate their mother, but she certainly didn’t like her. Could that be distinguished based on what she had said? Or, more importantly: how she had said it?

It was the younger who had finally spoken. “I have one more question for you.” Whether she was honestly planning on asking this follow-up question or she simply wanted to break the near-unbearable silence, Octavia couldn’t tell, but she was thankful for it either way.
“Why Ponyville? Why not somewhere else, like Manehatten?”

This was another question Octavia knew she would be asked, but this one had a far simpler answer than the previous. “Manehatten has its reputation in being fast-paced and endlessly crowded. I simply could not focus on my works if I were to move there.”

Viviola peered back up at Octavia, a puzzled look decorating her face. “Oh? Well then, why Ponyville? There are plenty of small towns such as this that are located much closer to Canterlot.”

“Because, sister, you know very well the hardships we face as earth-pony string musicians.”

“Of course, ‘tavia. But what has that got to do with moving here?”

Octavia afforded herself a light chuckle, with but a trace of condescension in it. “I always forget your distaste for details. Ponyville is known across Equestria for being a city founded by earth ponies, one that has stuck to its tradition for years. I knew that moving here would allow me to make my music without being looked down upon or without anypony assuming I was less of a talented musician.”

Viviola nodded her head slowly, returning to her half-empty bowl of soup. After taking a couple of sips, she looked at Octavia with somewhat pleading eyes and said, “I hope you don’t think I’m prying, sis. I just needed… a little closure, is all. I needed something to fill in the blanks.”

Octavia smiled warmly, looking into Viviola’s blue-grey eyes. “It’s alright. I knew I’d have to explain myself someday.”

The two ponies shared a smile, and Octavia felt a bit warmer towards her sister than she normally did. Despite the ugly turn the conversation had taken earlier on, it felt like the two were becoming closer, and that made Octavia feel quite happy. It had been quite a long few years.

Comments

[Doom_Pie]

Oh dear. Look at those gigantic paragraphs. HEY DOOM PIE, CHINA CALLED. THEY WANT THEIR WALL BACK.
Anyway, this was more of an expository chapter than anything. I wanted to sort of explore their past and I decided on one specific event I’d like to focus on for this part. I’m not displeased with how it turned out
I forgot to say this earlier, but I do appreciate any feedback. Despite what my ego keeps insisting, my logical mind keeps telling me I’m far from perfect, so feel free to tell what you’d like to see done better, if the compulsion possesses you to do so.
Also, no picture because I don’t know how to Photoshop

[Anonymous XXX]

i think youre doing a good job. there's some good characterization, and tbh, i love octavia in general, and its nice to see her not being shipped with anything and everything that can make music (DJ-PON3, Lyra [with possible Bon Bon 3-some action], pinkie pie driving out parasprites, scootaloo singing ) so yeah. keep this up
and i seriously wish i could help you with your picture issues, but the best i can do on photoshop is copy and paste several ducks onto a cannon.

[Doom_Pie]

68578
Hehe, thanks. I do like my characterization, but to be honest, I think my ability to assemble stories is a bit lacking. But hey, it's my debut fic, so we'll see how it goes.
And yeah, I decided not to go for shipping just yet. I don't know who I'd do it with anyway. I honestly love Octavia/Scratch, but after reading things like Allegrezza I can't imagine writing anything but a feeble copy. I simply prefer normal fiction stories such as this.
Hey, no worries. That's about as far as I can go too. I figure if I put some picture like that up people will start to think this is a trollfic
Thanks for the feedback. Makes me feel warm and fuzzy to know that somepony's watching