//------------------------------// // Chime // Story: Filly Friends // by thehalfelf //------------------------------// Chime Mother came into my room several hours later.  Her dress was already on and stunning. A single piece made of a dark fabric, littered liberally with golden thread that caught the light and the eye.  There was a collar as well, understated, to provide a place to anchor Mother’s trademark lavender bow tie. “Come on, Octavia. It’s time to get ready.” Dutifully, I crawled from my blanket cocoon and walked to the middle of my room.  Mother joined me, after a stop at my closet to grab the dress itself. With her magic it was a quick thing for her to slip the dress over my head, fasten it down, and arrange it to lay neatly.  I followed her to the bathroom and stood patiently in front of the mirror while Mother did my mane up like hers. An hour later, I was done and waiting outside Vinyl’s door while Mother dealt with her.  I could feel my mane running in ringlets down my neck to my back, carefully pulled away from my face with a few well-hidden pins. Mother had gone in a few minutes ago and gently but firmly shut me out.  I sat outside patiently, listening to the large clock in the entry hall tick the seconds away.  It chimed the half hour. At the hour mark, I left for a moment to get a drink of water from the kitchen.  The next half charm after that the door finally opened. Mother opened the door and walked out, shutting it before I could see.  She smiled at me still sitting by the door. “She’ll be down in a moment.  Come.” I followed Mother downstairs to the parlor.  She collected a few things into a little bag she liked to carry while I waited. The clock had almost chimed the second hour before Vinyl came downstairs.  She looked very pretty in her dress, and though she didn’t have the length of mane as I, Mother had still styled it beautifully. She smiled at me and flipped her mane around.  I could almost hear Mother glare from the other side of the room, but I smiled too.  “I’ve never had my mane done like this before. It feels weird,” Vinyl said. “Don’t mess it up,” Mother scolded.  She grabbed her full bag, glanced at the clock, and motioned to the door.  “Come on, let’s go.” Vinyl and I followed her out the door, waited while she locked up, and followed her to a coach waiting on the street.  The driver opened the door so we could climb in. The minute she was inside, Vinyl pressed her muzzle up against the glass of the other door and stared out across the same street she’d been looking at for two weeks. I couldn’t say how long she stayed there; as soon as the coach driver closed the door, I was busy staring out the other side.  I’d always like coaches, probably for the same reason I liked swings. Although, swings don’t smack your head into the wall on every bump. The streets slowly became more crowded the closer we got to the city center.  We had to stop about three blocks from the theater, halted by a long line of chariots.  Slowly we crept forward, one length of cart at a time. Vinyl was practically tapping a hole through the floor when we finally pulled up in front of the theater. The Royal Canterlot Theater, a massive marble and gilded structure, smack in the middle of uptown Canterlot.  Designed in the same style as the entire uptown, it was just a short canter up to the top of the mountain and the castle itself. “Just walk forward, smile, and walk into the theater,” Mother said.  The cart driver opened the door to a bright flash of cameras. Mother motioned myself, then Vinyl out of the cart; She came behind.  We walked in a measured line behind the ponies in front of us into the entry hall. Four ex-or-off-duty guard ponies crammed into suits stood inside, checking guests off with ruthless efficiency.  We were ticked off the list, given a program, and shuffled into the great mass of dressed-up ponies milling outside the theater proper.  Mother very politely pushed our way through the crowd and up the stairs to the second level. Vinyl pushed aside the thick, black, soundproof curtain.  Our balcony was always on the left side of the theater, Father’s “good side.”  Two rows of seats, all taken by friends and family of the ponies on stage tonight.  Rosin waved from her place in the front row, and we moved to sit next to her. “That’s a long way down,” Vinyl said, peering over the edge of our balcony to the slowly filling concert hall. “The idea is to stay up here,” Rosin said, after playfully shoving Vinyl.  Mother glared at her friend and rolled her eyes. Naturally Vinyl pushed back, and the two play fought for a few seconds before Mother physically separated them and placed me in the middle. Rosin blew a raspberry at Mother.  “Boo, Mels, no fun. How dare you use your daughter against me.” The gentle drift of half-audible conversation below hid Mother’s response but I saw Rosin grin.  Deprived of her playmate, Vinyl settled down as well. Over the next tens of minutes the theater slowly became louder as more ponies took their seats.  A subtle buzz of nervousness and anticipation filled the air, doubling as the light slowly faded and a single pony took the stage. Father walked across the polished wood, stopping exactly in the middle, facing out across the crowd.  “Fillies and gentlecolts, I welcome and humbly thank you for choosing to attend this first night of our month-long series, ‘Ties.’  It is the hope of both myself and all those in our orchestra that you’ll take this time and reflect on your own ties. We all came closer during writing and rehearsing and it’s our hope that you all will come closer in listening.” He bowed again to a polite wave of applause and took his place at the only thing currently visible on stage: a lone wooden podium, facing the red curtain.  The curtain itself shifted and pulled apart, revealing Father’s orchestra in all their glory: fifty-eight stallions and mares arranged in a semicircle around the podium.   They each flourished their instruments in sequence, creating a ripple across the entire circle.  Father ended with a flourish of his baton. The concert started with every player on one long, extended note.  It bled down slowly, individual sections peeling off to begin their parts of the song. I always zeroed in on the cello players, left side of the circle, closest to me.  A pretty silver-ish mare with a short, crazy mane. I always liked to watch her because she was an Earth Pony, like me.  I first learned how to hold my bow by watching her. She glanced my way and winked. Or maybe, she just looked at the lights weird, there was no way she could have seen me. The concert played for an hour and a half, flowing almost seamlessly from song to song, from happy to melancholy.  Vinyl sat perfectly still the entire time, staring at the group as a whole. Her eyes were the only things not still, flitting from player to player as their individual sections came to the front of the performance. After the last song, the lights rose.  Every player in the orchestra stowed their instruments, joined Father at the front, and bowed as one.  The audience stood as well, us included, and pounded our forehooves on the wooden floor. Father stepped forward after the third bow.  “Thank you!” he shouted over the noise of the crowd.  “Thank you so much! I hope you all have a safe evening and remember to keep those close to you in your mind and hearts!” After another bow, they left the stage.  Mother nudged us as well, pushing first Vinyl then me towards the curtain.  We followed along behind as Mother led us to the restricted areas of the concert hall and to where the performers were packing up from their show. We weren’t allowed inside, so we waited in a group with the loved ones of other performers.  One by one our group left as performers finished packing and cleaning and headed out to celebrate, or home to rest.  Father was always the last out, which meant Mother, Vinyl, and I were alone when he finally left the ready rooms. His tie was undone, hanging off the collar of his suit.  He grinned at us as he shut the door. “Well, what did you think?” I ran up to hug him at the same time that Mother kissed him on the cheek.  “It was great, dear, as always.” Vinyl grinned, then tried to hide it.  “I thought there were supposed to be cannons in classical music.”  She crossed her forehooves in mock pouting. “Are we going to celebrate?” I asked. Mother and Father looked at each other.  “I don’t see why not,” Mother said. “I agree.  I’m thinking... raisins and oats,” Father said. Vinyl wrinkled her nose at me.  “Is that what rich ponies think a celebration is?” I looked at her and cocked my head.  “Only if Mother lets us put honey on the oats.” “Okay, no.  I’m in charge, let’s go.”  Vinyl prodded all of us with a hoof and herded us towards the exit.  She sent the three of us into the waiting carriage and had a few words with the driver before climbing in herself. We returned home from Vinyl’s celebration trip a couple of hours later, long after dark.  Father turned in immediately, worn out from his concert and needing to get up early the next day to prepare for the next one.  Mother led Vinyl and myself into the parlor, then stepped into the kitchen, returning a few minutes later with tea. “Well, Vinyl did you have a good time?” Mother asked, placing down the mugs of tea before sitting herself. Vinyl sniffed suspiciously at the tea until she saw me take a sip.  She took one, much shorter, after that. “Yeah, it was a lot of fun actually.  Like watching Octavia, but louder... and better.” “Hey!” I shouted, playfully. Mother scooted a little closer to Vinyl.  “And tomorrow? Are you ready?” “I... I....” Vinyl spluttered.  Her eyes turned down to her cup. “What’s going to happen, Mother?” I asked. Mother hesitated for a moment, then ruffled Vinyl’s mane.  “Vinyl will have to speak to the court about what her home life is like.  A judge will decide if she goes back to her mother, or becomes a ward of Equestria.” “So she has to leave no matter what?” I whispered.  Vinyl looked up at me quickly, then back to her tea. “That’s not for me to decide,” Mother replied, laying her other hoof on mine. Vinyl drank her tea in one long gulp, winced, then set down the mug.  “I think I better go to bed,” she muttered before standing and leaving the room. “What does ‘ward of Equestria’ mean?” I asked. Mother sighed and moved to sit next to me on the couch.  “It means that she’s going to go to a good home for fillies.  Vinyl’s mother... is not like your Father or me. She needs to be in a home where she is loved too, and if a judge decides she won’t get that in her home, they’ll send her somewhere where she will.” I nodded, remembering how Vinyl looked at the playground when we first met, and again after all the rain.  “Is it going to be far away?” “I don’t know, dear.” I nodded once and stood up.  I remember saying something about going to bed before plodding to my room.  They wouldn’t just send Vinyl away, would they? The thought was actually a little worrying.  I remember thinking it was strange that Vinyl was wet and dirty when we met in the playground after the rain, and that it was odd that she wasn’t confident in her magic, but how would sending Vinyl away help any of that? It didn’t make any sense.  She was happy, wasn’t she? She’d always seemed like it, and if she was happy, everything couldn’t be too bad, right? The last week had been good too, though.  She’d seemed happy, would that count tomorrow? It was such a hard choice when Mother asked if Vinyl could stay, but now I didn’t want her to leave. <><><><><> Nopony got what they wanted the next morning.  Father wanted to go with us, but was needed at the theater and had to leave after a quiet, awkward breakfast.  He was the only one who actually managed to eat anything. Mother, Vinyl, and I picked at our food in silence. We left the house without a word, boarded a carriage, and made our way back into the upper reaches of Canterlot.  The courthouse was slowly waking up, guards, lawyers, reporters, and other ponies, like us, ready to start the first round of trials for the day. Mother took the lead inside, taking us towards one of the back court rooms.  “Go on ahead,” Mother told Vinyl, pulling open the door to court. When I moved to follow, she gently placed a hoof across my barrel.  “Hold on, Octavia. I need to talk with you first.” While Vinyl continued through the door, I took a seat on a nearby bench.  Mother stood in front of me and ducked her head until we were mostly eye to eye.  “I want you to stay out here,” she said. I nodded once, until what Mother said settled in.  “But I want to go too!” Mother shushed me and waved away the glances of other couple of ponies in the hall.  “I know you do, dear, but your Father and I think it would be best if you waited for her out here.  She might not want you to hear what she has to say.” That didn’t make any sense.  I was Vinyl’s friend, so why... Mother booped my muzzle with her own.  “I know it’s hard, but it shouldn’t take too long, okay?  We’ll come back out as soon as the judge is done with her, I promise.” I nodded again, so she turned and entered the courtroom, leaving me alone on the bench.  Vinyl was set to talk in one of the smaller courts in the back of the building. Every so often a pony would come by, glance at me, then go into the courtroom itself. The minutes dragged on.  As I had never actually been to court, I was forced to rely on trials in movies to feed my imagination.  That quickly spiraled into picturing a pony in a big white wig and flowy black cloak on a raised wooden platform staring down at two ponies in suits, one a nice suit, and one more ragged, as they bombarded poor Vinyl with questions until she finally broke down and made the cloak pony bang a wooden hammer down and shout for order. I decided then that court was weird. Somewhere in the building, a clock chimed the half hour.  That made thirty minutes since we’d actually shown up. I resisted the urge, barely, to go poke my head in the door to try and listen in.  Mother said that she and Vinyl would be out as soon as they were done questioning her, but how long would that actually be? The clock struck ten, then half past.  Without a parent there to chastise me, I finally gave into fidgeting, and fidgeted myself up and down the bench for the next half hour.  As the clock chimed eleven, the doors finally opened and a stream of assorted ponies made their way out of the room, towards the building’s exit. In the middle came Mother, shepherding a very subdued Vinyl.  She spied me mid-fidget and led my friend over. On seeing me, Vinyl seemed to wake up a little, and she scrubbed at her eyes before climbing up on the bench next to me and smiling. “Hey, Tavi,” she said, voice scratchy and a little raw.  “Thanks for waiting.” “How’d it go?” I blurted out, eyes jumping between Mother and Vinyl. The tips of Vinyl’s ears drooped, but Mother smiled at me.  “She did great. We would have been out sooner, but Vinyl was the last to speak, so we had to wait for the judge’s final verdict.” My breath caught in a soft choke.  So soon? I was hoping that we might have a few more days before everything was decided... “They’re going to let me stay,” Vinyl said, breaking into a wider smile.  “At least, for a little longer.” I did not squeal, and did not jump forward to hug her.