Before Music

by TheTobacconist

First published

How do you express the inexpressible?

Music is beautiful. It is one of two things which can express the inexpressible. But when you do not have music what is the other method of expression?
AN: This is 100% approved by Twilight's Library.

Silence

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Octavia lay awake in bed, staring at her partner. Vinyl Scratch was sound asleep. Rest came easy to those with no desire or need for introspection. Octavia, however, was trapped in her own thoughts. There was nothing to listen to, there was no music to appreciate.

She slid out of bed as quietly as she could. She briefly considered the sleeping form of her partner. It was somewhat humorous; Vinyl tried to act like such an adult out in public, but when sleeping she reminded Octavia of a foal. She lightly kissed Vinyl on her forehead, and softly walked out of the room. She took a moment to appreciate her grand view of Canterlot from the breakfast nook. The visage of gas lamps and well lit streets was welcoming. But it was not what she wanted out of the night, she had something else to appreciate. She walked into her music room.

It was not simply her music room; one half was dedicated to Vinyl's interest, and the other half to her interests. Octavia took a moment to stare at the stark contrast of the room. On one side there were electronics that she did not know the name for, and posters of new age 'musicians' that she did not care for. How could any pony appreciate 'musicians' that all sounded the same? On the other side were traditional stringed instruments; a cello, a bass, a viola, and a violin. These instruments she could appreciate. They all shared a similar design, but created such distinct sounds. She looked to her wall, smiling at the portraits of the greatest classical musicians to grace Equestria with their presence. She knew which side of the room belonged to her.

She shut the door quietly, and walked to her side of the room. Octavia knew what instrument she would use to break the dreadful silence of the night. She knew what tempo she would set the beginning of her music to. She knew what refrain she would play to amuse herself. Perhaps she could begin with a little pizzicato, just so that she could fully appreciate the wonderful vibrations. Then she would slide into adagio. She would play it in the minor key, and fill the apartment with the haunting melody. She would contrast this by using accelerando, accelerating the beat until she hit allegrisimmo. Perhaps she would not even stop there. Perhaps she would continue all the way to prestissimmo.

She halted her hoof just before touching the neck of the cello. Did she really want to break the silence? The silence had not hurt her. The silence had never done anything against her. But if she played now, then she would destroy it. There would be more silence in the future, but it would not be the same silence as pervaded the apartment. The silence that existed right now would never exist again. One pluck of a string, or one drag of the bow, and she would be a murderer.

She left the room in silence. She once again crawled into bed, and snuggled tightly against her partner. Vinyl unconsciously allowed Octavia back into her embrace. Octavia smiled, and shut her eyes. She would do nothing to break the silence.

Vinyl stirred awake sometime later. She took a moment to stroke Octavia's mane, but she was sound asleep. Rest came easy to those who were not consumed by passion. Vinyl took a moment to consider the utter lack of noise. It seemed wrong to her that a musician's house was not filled with music. It almost seemed like a perversion of the very meaning of the word.

She rolled out of bed as quietly as she could manage. She kissed her partner on the cheek, and placed a pillow where her own body had been. To her the visual of Octavia cuddling with a pillow was adorable. Octavia was always the adult in the relationship, but at night she was as clingy as a young child. The humor in that fact did not escape her, but she did not laugh. She could not risk waking Octavia. Vinyl walked silently from the room.

She took a minute to appreciate the view of Canterlot from their kitchen window. She could not help but smile at the snow cascading down onto the well lit city streets. She took a moment to wave at a stranger who could not possibly see her. She forced herself away from the window, and into their music room.

Their music room was a beautiful compromise. Octavia had her different sized violins on one side, and Vinyl had her various pieces of equipment on her own side. She would only admit to herself that she did not care for the posters that Octavia had on her side of the room. Why would anyone waste their time with old bores who all sounded the exact same? Those ponies had no appreciation for contrast. Vinyl understood contrast, she could read it, she could see it, and she could play it.

But the work that occupied her mind was not about contrast. It was about Octavia. Vinyl intended to take a sampling of the classical music that Octavia loved, and remix it so that it had one distinct feature. Each separate pieced mixed in would be an octave off from the prior piece placed into the file. But then she could create a contrast with tempo, and make a homophonic work.

Her hoof paused just before touching the power button. Did she really want to do this? Yes, the music would be beautiful, but it would not be this lovely silence that surrounded her now. The music could never be as peaceful as this. She had no desire to break the peace.

She went back into their bedroom. She propped up Octavia off the pillow she cuddled, and took its place. She placed a forearm around her, cradling her neck.

"What is it?" Octavia asked sleepily.

"Shh," Vinyl requested, holding Octavia tighter. "Don't break the silence."