//------------------------------//
// In Happiness, Escape 
// Story: Harmonia 
// by Botched Lobotomy 
//------------------------------//

“Where ya off to?”
Vinyl shrugged, affixing her shades to her face. “Oh, you know.”
Groove laughed. “Oh, I know.” He stretched round, swiping her scarf from the hanger before she could. “I’m well aware.”
She rolled her eyes, holding out a hoof. “Come on, dude.”
“Come on what?” He stepped back, dancing the scarf just out of reach. “Am I ever gonna meet this mare?”
“Not if you keep being such a dick.”
“That’s how it is, huh?”
“Yup.”
“You know, I’m starting to think she doesn’t exist.” He waggled an eyebrow, daring her to rise to the bait. Maybe she would have, once, but now she simply smiled.
“Can I get my scarf back?”
“Can I meet your marefriend?”
“Sure, eventually.”
“Eventually.” He frowned. “Give me a day.”
Vinyl grinned, wrapping the cloth in her magic. “Probably about the same time you learn to watch the horn.” His eyes widened, and he drew back too late to stop the scarf unwinding from his hoof.
“Not fair,” he pouted. Vinyl stuck her tongue out. It was an old trick, that, and worked just as well on most unicorns as earth ponies or pegasi.
Groove fluffed his wings in indignation. “I still want to meet her!” he called, as she trotted out the door.
“Someday!” she shouted back, and vanished into the snow.
Early December in Canterlot was not nearly so bad as other places. Vinyl had been to Appleloosa, once, on the way to Manehattan, and the snows there had been heavy, the cold fierce, and deep in winter clothes were not so much fashionable as necessary for survival. In Canterlot—it might have been the ponies, Vinyl thought, all those bodies must generate some kind of heat—the snows never got deeper than a hoof, and anypony could do their hearthswarming shopping comfortably enough with only a hat or scarf. Some ponies, in need of a bit of icy refreshment, even went without.
The snow today was barely more than a frost, a light powder sprinkling the streets and gathering on rooftops, and the hoofprints of a thousand ponies would turn it all to mush by noon. For now, it was a chilly, charming dusting that clumped in corners and was never more than a decoration for the orange glow of shop displays.
Their café wasn’t far away, and soon enough Vinyl could make out the soft, trilling letters of it, sprinkled in snow. A familiar shape sat in the warmth of its window, and her heart gave a little leap as Tavi came into view. Sitting upright and proper at just the same table they’d first met at, and wearing upon her black mane a knitted purple beanie. It was probably the most adorable hat Vinyl had ever seen.
Tavi looked up at the door’s ringing, and her eyes widened a little as she saw Vinyl. She always did that, like she was, even now, surprised to see her every time, and Vinyl found herself smiling already.
“Hey,” Tavi said, as she sat down.
“Cute hat,” Vinyl replied.
Tavi frowned, reaching to pull it off. “Yes, well.” A delicate flush touched her cheeks.
“Aww, you look good in clothes, though.”
She looked away. “I’ve ordered you coffee.”
Tavi never drank coffee herself. She’d been trying to get Vinyl into tea, but so far Vinyl was holding out. “Three sugar—”
“Three sugars, yes.” Tavi glanced about, then looked down into her cranberry juice. She seemed distracted, Vinyl thought—which for Tavi was a rare thing indeed.
“What’s up?”
“Hmm?”
“You okay? That...” Vinyl paused, trying to remember. “...Boutique job, how’d it go? Did it go well?”
“Oh, that. Yes, well enough, I suppose. Stole lots of dresses.”
Vinyl cracked a grin. “Any left over on the side? I’m sure they’d look great on you. Award-winning fashion designer, right?”
Tavi shook her head indignantly. “I don’t think that’s the objective, really.”
“Or a suit,” Vinyl suggested. “You’d look awesome in one of those suits, too.”
She scowled. “Well, you’ll see me in one soon enough, I suppose.”
Huh? “Huh?”
Tavi sighed, pushing her cranberry juice away resignedly. “You’re to come over for dinner. Tonight.”
Vinyl considered this. “Wait, to your...?”
Tavi nodded.
“To meet your...?”
Tavi grimaced. “We always have this big hearthswarming function, and they want to meet you properly before it happens.”
“Well, buck me.”
“Only if you don’t mention it in front of my parents.”
The waitress came, deposited her coffee, and left again. Vinyl took a tentative sip.
“No, but seriously,” Tavi said, when she was gone, “don’t mention anything like that to them. Don’t even joke about it. They’re...”
“Pricks?”
“...Protective.”
“Right.”
“Very.” She tapped her hoof anxiously upon the table. “Don’t mention Princess Luna, either.”
“Big fans?”
“Hah. It’s probably for the best that you don’t bring up Celestia, for that matter. Or government generally. Or art, even. Or—”
“Got it.” Vinyl mimed drawing a zip across her mouth. “I just won’t speak.”
“That’s it!” Tavi’s eyes lit up.
“What?”
“You could pretend to be mute! I mean, if they think you can’t talk, they can hardly find fault with you. Just nod at everything they say, they’ll be delighted. Or maybe you could be deaf, too, then you don’t even have to worry about that! What about—”
“Tavi, Tavi.” She reached out to take Tavi’s hoof. “It’ll be fine. Really, what’s the worst that could happen?”
“I hate that you said that,” Tavi whispered.
Vinyl squeezed her hoof tighter. “I promise I’ll be good. Don’t worry about it.”
“You seem oddly enthusiastic about this, Vinyl,” said Tavi, a note of accusation in her voice. “Are you that eager to meet my parents?”
“I’m interested,” said Vinyl. “I mean, they can’t possibly be as bad as you say, right?”
“Mmm-hmm. And it wouldn’t have anything to do with the suit, now, would it?”
“Nope!” said Vinyl cheerfully.
“Of course.”





Tavi, as it turned out, did indeed look good in a suit. She answered the door on the first ring, crisply dressed in a smart three-piece, the cut neat and well-tailored, the fabric fine and pressed tight to her flank. The black-on-grey of the outfit reminded Vinyl of the dress she’d worn when they met—on her now, it was the exact inverse of her father’s.
“Vinyl,” she said, standing majestically in the framed light of the hall. She sounded stressed.
“Tavi,” Vinyl breathed.
“Yes,” she replied. “Take off your shades.”
Vinyl blinked. She knew for a fact that Tavi liked her shades. “Aww.”
Tavi took the glasses and tucked them neatly inside her jacket. “What’s that?” she asked, gesturing in mild disbelief to the bottle floating by Vinyl’s side.
“...Wine?” Vinyl passed the bottle to Tavi’s waiting hooves, and watched as her marefriend placed it decisively behind a flowerpot. Well, at lest she’d tried. Tavi gave Vinyl one last cursory glance, and ushered her into the hall.
Tavi stayed in a mansion. This, given the circumstances of their meeting, had not surprised Vinyl—but the sheer size of the mansion still managed to astonish. It was, frankly, obscene. The thing sat on Saddle Row like some great carven monstrosity, four stories tall at least, fluting and elegant and excessively gilded. Vinyl wondered wryly if they’d even bothered getting new material for it, or had simply melted down their gold and painted it straight on. Either way, the stuff was everywhere: where other ponies had dust or lint, Tavi’s family had gold.
Tavi strode through it as if she was quite unaware of her house’s ridiculous wealth, Vinyl trailing so distractedly behind that she bumped right into Tavi, who had stopped by a closed door. All the doors in this house were closed, Vinyl noticed suddenly. Like they were afraid of even air escaping.
Tavi took a deep breath, gave Vinyl a small, worried smile, and led her into the dining room.
In the centre, in the midst of the richly oiled panelling and soaring chandeliers, lay a table, stretching from one side of the room to the other. Very long, very dark, and very stout. It was hard to imagine the thing had been built—Vinyl could only see it being cut, hewn of some behemoth stone block, ancient and immovable. There were places for a hundred ponies, at least, but right then only four were set: two for her and Tavi, and two for Tavi’s parents.
“Ah!” exclaimed a squat, black figure in the distance. “There you are.”
Vinyl tried her best not to stare. Head high, she told herself. Don’t screw this up.
At the very end of the table sat two ponies: one, the stallion Vinyl recognised, with his bristly moustache and plastered orange mane; the other, his equal and opposite: white fur where he was black, lush mane where his was fading. She favoured them with a cold smile. “At last.”
“Mother. Father.” Tavi inclined her head courteously. “I’d like you to meet Vinyl Scratch.” She stepped aside, and Vinyl gave a wan smile.
“Pleased to meet you, um, sir.” Vinyl realised with a start she didn’t know their names.
“Call me Veni,” the stallion said, holding out a hoof. “This is my wife, Lapis.”
“Lazuli,” the mare clarified. She, distinctly, did not offer hers.
Vinyl shook the proffered hoof, sitting down to Veni’s left, just opposite Tavi.
“We’re so happy to finally meet you, Vinyl,” said the stallion, when they were seated. “Properly, I mean.” He gave a barking laugh.
“Quite,” Lapis agreed. “Octavia’s told us virtually nothing about you.”
Vinyl looked over at Tavi, who shrugged. “Oh, well, there’s really not that much to tell...”
“Nonsense,” said Veni firmly. His tone provoked no argument. “I’m sure there’s lots to know. We have all evening, after all!”
Beside him, Lapis’s horn lit up, and the tinkle of a tiny bell echoed down the table. From the shadows appeared two grim, besuited ponies bearing domed platters, which they silently deposited in the centre of the table. Veni smacked his lips, floating the covers away to reveal four shallow plates of soup. Vinyl noted bemusedly that each was covered in a thin gold leaf.
“Dig in, everypony!” he announced, and drew the closest bowl right to him. Vinyl reached with her magic to grab a plate for herself, and just as Tavi put her hoof out to do the same, her mother floated it into her lap.
“There you go, darling.”
Tavi scowled. “Mother, please.”
“Wine, sir?” asked one of the servers, a bucket full of ice hovering by her side.
“Leave the bottle,” said Veni.
As Vinyl bent down to taste the soup, she caught a stare from across the table. Tavi shook her head minutely. Huh? She looked up, and realised that Lapis and Veni both floated small silver spoons beside them. Vinyl picked one off the platter experimentally. She’d seen them before, of course, though never used one. Ancient unicorn cutlery, out of fashion in most places for the simple reason that only unicorns could really use it—hooves or wings made the whole thing much more difficult.
Tavi picked her spoon up with practised calm, tucking the silver into the crook of her hoof, holding it awkwardly to the plate as she took a mouthful.
“So,” said Veni, taking a gulp of his wine, “it’s time to spill, Vinyl. Who are you really?”
Vinyl started, nearly dropping her spoon. “I, um...”
He laughed again. “I kid. Tell us about yourself. Who is this mare my daughter fights so hard to see?”
Vinyl paused, spoon half-raised, to look at Tavi. “What?”
“Oh yes,” Lapis said, with a smile that had altogether much more acid than cheer, “you’re a regular source of quarrel in this house, I’m afraid.” She took a sip from her glass, eyes hooded and gleaming. “I hope you’re worth it.”
“You’d better be,” grinned her father. “I don’t want anypony getting hurt—least of all Octavia.”
Vinyl swallowed, eyes wide. Tavi’s ears were flat, apologetic, her muzzle wrinkled in shame. “W-well,” said Vinyl, trying to gather herself, “um, first off, I’m a DJ.” And she explained her job. Neither Veni or (especially) Lapis seemed overly impressed, but she continued on regardless. When she was done, Veni laughed, poured another cup of wine, and asked about her family. At each pause, when Vinyl thought she was finished, there came another question, and Veni drank another glass. By the time dessert was served—four small ice creams with tall glassy spoons—Vinyl was quite exhausted, and the bottle on the table had been emptied four times over.
“I ask all this,” the stallion said, as he polished off the last of his ice cream, “because we, you know, only want what’s best for our daughter, you understand.”
Vinyl nodded wordlessly.
“Y’know, when I was a foal,” he said, waving the spoon about vaguely, “my father took me aside one day to teach me a bit of a lesson. ‘Veni,’ he said—” He paused, chuckled, and deepened his voice. “‘Veni,’ he said, ‘I know you bin wantin a train set like your all your friends, so here. I gotcha this.’ An, and he pulls out this wooden train set, just like I wanted, and he says to me ‘this what you bin after?’ So I nodded, and he gave me this look, this smile, see, and right there in front of my eyes he smashed this polished train set to bits. To little splinters.” Veni threw the spoon against the table with such force it stuck there, quivering.
“Oh,” said Vinyl faintly. “I’m...sorry.”
Veni didn’t seem to hear her. “Moral of the story,” he snickered, “is that kids don’t always know what’s best for them. Ol’ Malus, the next day he gave me a knife. ‘Toy fit for a unicorn,’ he told me.” The stallion’s horn flashed, and suddenly a worn silver pocketknife glinted by his head. “I assure you, I got far more use outta this than a bucking train.”
“What’s best for ponies,” agreed Lapis, “is not always what they think.” She stared pointedly at Tavi. Tavi looked like she wanted to say something, but Veni cut her off.
“So’s the question, the question becomes, what are you, Vinyl? You a train set or a knife?” The sheen of the blade flashed in his eyes.
Vinyl swallowed. Tavi, across the table, was staring with a cold fury at her parents. Vinyl ran a hoof nervously through her mane. “I...um, I, well...” She was not a pony often at a loss for words, but right then not a single one came to mind. Her tongue stuttered all its own, on instinct, as she scrambled to remember just how exactly language worked, again.
“What he’s trying to ask, dear,” said Lapis smugly, “is whether you can be for Octavia what I am to him—or he is to me. A whetstone, not a weight.”
“Ah,” managed Vinyl, faculties of speech returning by parts. “I’m totally a knife, then.”
Lapis smiled. “I think we should put that to the test, don’t you, dearest?”
“Test?” said Veni. His eyes were unfocused, the knife twirling in the air before him. “A fine idea.”
“Father—”
“Perfect.” Lapis clapped her hooves together, the ice cream untouched. “It’s settled, then. Darryl?”
“My lady.” The serving mare melted from the shadows.
“What time is it?”
“Half past eight, your ladyship.”
“Excellent, we’ve plenty of time.” She turned to look Vinyl in the eye, and her mouth twisted into perhaps her first genuine smile of the evening. “We’re robbing a ship, you see.”





This, to be fair, was not what Vinyl had imagined her day going like. She had not, when she woke up that morning, warm and safe and under the covers, thought for a second that she’d end up here, chattering in the frozen wind coming off a thousand miles of empty ocean as she crouched inside a crate waiting to be loaded aboard the cargo runner Sunchaser. She had, in fact, had plans that day—Groove was performing some new play of his, and it was only on for two more nights—but all that had gone when Tavi had mentioned her parents, and now she was here. Squashed and shivering in some dockside hellhole.
“I really am sorry about this,” said Tavi, from the crate beside her.
“I know,” she replied, with as much cheer as she could muster, “it’s okay.”
“No,” Tavi said grimly, and even with the walls between them Vinyl could hear the steel in her voice. “It’s not.”
Vinyl sighed, looking down at the items by her hooves. When they’d left, Veni had grinned and pressed the cold metal of a knife into her hoof “to keep you safe.” Tavi, for her part, had run to her room quick as she could and brought down a sealed scroll, several gems, and a small purple stone of the kind Vinyl had seen used before, at the bank. These were what she had before her, and the teleport stone gave her far more comfort than the blade.
“So how do these work, anyway?” Vinyl asked, more to keep her mind off the cold than anything else.
“Sorry?” Vinyl could hear Tavi’s frown, even if she couldn’t see it. “You simply focus on them, and whatever magic lies within them gets released into you. Or...” Tavi blinked owlishly. “Do you mean what they do? Because that scroll’s a mind-control spell, you’ve seen it before, though this one’s much more general-purpose. Don’t read it, whatever you do.”
“No, no.” Vinyl shook her head, then realised nopony could see her, and stopped. “I mean, like, how do they work? How d’ya store a spell in a bit of paper?”
“Oh!” Tavi’s ears almost audibly shot up. “That’s a little something of my own design, actually. You know how gems can store magic?”
“No?”
“You...” Tavi paused. “Wait, seriously? You’ve never...”
“Nope.”
“Surely it would have been covered in school...?”
Vinyl shrugged. “Probably. Guess I missed that class.”
“It’s pretty basic stuff, Vinyl. Are you sure?”
“I missed a lot of classes.” Vinyl grinned, imagining Tavi rolling her eyes.
“Why did you think gems were so valuable?”
“They’re...pretty?”
There was a dull thunk as Tavi hit her head against the wood.
“So gems store magic, got it.”
“Yes, they— Hold on.”
“Huh?”
“I’ve been to one of your concerts.”
Vinyl held back a snort. Tavi had, indeed, been to one of her concerts.
“What did you think powered your speakers?”
“That’s not the part I really think about.”
“I...all right. Whatever. Yes, so gems store magic. With enough effort, we...a unicorn could put spells in it, too.”
“But the paper.”
“Precisely! How do we get that same magic into something that’s much less obvious than a gem? Something that earth ponies and pegasi can access too, and that doesn’t need to be levitated at all?”
“How?”
Tavi’s pride was evident. “Ink.”
“Makes sense,” Vinyl agreed. “Except for the part where you’ve lost me completely.”
Tavi nickered. “The spell goes into a gem, and the gem’s crushed up and put into ink. It makes the writing look rather striking, too.”
Oh. “Oh.” That...was probably the cleverest thing Vinyl had ever heard. Heard and understood, that was. “You’re really smart, you know that?”
“I know,” said Tavi, smug.
“So if it’s so much better, why isn’t there more of them? These scroll-letter things, I mean?”
“Well, they’re slightly tedious to prepare,” admitted Tavi, “and they can’t be used in every situation...”
“It’s just smashing gems, isn’t it?”
“Yes.”
“So that doesn’t explain why...”
Tavi sighed. “My father,” she began, “does not take kindly to—”
She would have said more, then, but at that moment something clattered along the crates.
“It’s time,” she whispered.
“Yeah,” Vinyl said, scooping the gems and scroll into her bag. After a moment’s hesitation, she left the knife.
The crane’s claw fastened around the box, and her tiny world shook violently as it lifted her toward the unknown. Just beyond the wall she could hear Tavi’s breathing, and for a moment, as the arm carried their crates over the docks, and the water, to the ship, it was just the two of them, themselves, and they were perfectly together.
The thing dropped them roughly on the Sunchaser’s deck, and Vinyl felt her hooves rise from the floor an instant before she was thrown against the wall.
“Ow.”
Tavi groaned in her cage beside her, and Vinyl took a couple breaths to reorient herself. With a chill, she noticed the knife had lodged itself firmly in the wood inches just from her head.
It took several tries to buck the crate lid open, but she was able eventually to crawl her way out of it, and emerged into the dark, bitter wind ripping across the deck. Over the railing she could see the dock, the rows and rows of crates waiting to be loaded, and it was all of it so small, so much less significant than it had seemed from the ground.
“Vinyl?” came the voice from Tavi’s crate. “A little help, please?”
“Huh?”
A pause. Then, a tiny, defeated sigh. “I’m stuck.”
Stuck she was: the crate, when it had fallen, had tipped onto its side, and the lid of the thing had gotten trapped underneath.
“Hold on,” Vinyl told her, biting back a laugh, “just, just give me a second.”
Focusing on the box, Vinyl sent her magic out, wrapping it around the crate, and pulled. It didn’t budge.
“Vinyl.”
“I’m trying!”
She gathered herself again, really putting her mind to it. Her horn pulsed, the magic brightened, and the pale pink aura around the crate wavered as she poured more into it. Sweat beginning to bead on her forehead, Vinyl summoned all her strength, all her might, and...
“What’s going on out there?” Tavi sounded none too impressed.
“You’re too heavy,” Vinyl complained.
“I’m what?”
Vinyl snickered. “Look, I’m going to try tip it from the side, so maybe throw your weight against it too, if you can.”
“My weight, you say?”
“Do you want my help, or not?”
“Don’t try and wriggle your way out of this one Vinyl, I—”
There was a shriek inside the box as Vinyl rammed it with her shoulder, her magic, everything she had, and the thing at last turned over on its side. Moments later, the lid flew off, and Tavi crawled out tail-first, mane askew, and climbed stiffly to her hooves.
“Not a word,” she said dangerously, smoothing her suit.
“I’m not saying anything.”
The rest of their unit were still to be carried up, but for the moment they had the deck to themselves.
“It’s actually quite beautiful,” said Tavi, wandering over to the opposite side, grazing out across the sea. The moonlight peered down through the clouds, shafts of pale romance reaching from heavens to earth and scattering as they met the waves. The sea itself, a great shimmering curtain, stretched out as far as the eye could see, and further, all the way to the stars themselves.
“Yeah,” said Vinyl, coming up behind her, “yeah, it is.” She nuzzled up against Tavi’s cheek, and after a moment, Tavi laid her head against her shoulder.
They stood there awhile, the both of them, soaking in the warmth of the moonlight and each other, gazing out toward that distant horizon, until the crash of wood from behind brought them back down to ground. They parted reluctantly, sharing a small, secret kiss, before they turned, and got back to business.
“All right,” said Tavi, when the rest had arrived, “let’s get this over with.”
The operation had been long in the planning, and they had only to carry it out. Vinyl and Tavi stuck close together, creeping through the decks of the ship, silencing any crew member or watchpony they came across with gems and spells, until they reached the captain’s cabin. Tavi woke him with a hoof over his mouth, and Vinyl unfurled the scroll for him to read.
He led them to the hold, where all of his cargo was stored, and pointed out to them three specific barrels: one full of gold, one full of silver, and one full of gems.
When the crew was subdued, the treasure recovered, and the ship safe to walk, one of their companions placed a teleport stone on the ground, the green-suited pony appeared, and suddenly, moments later, there was Veni.
He glared around the place blearily, narrowing his eyes when he came upon Tavi. “Another success, then.”
“Yes, father.”
“And you,” he squinted at Vinyl, “you did better than I expected.”
“...Thanks.”
“Well done, both of you.” He swung about, searching for something. “Ah! Here we go.” His tiny, piggy eyes seemed to light up as he spotted the tied-up captain. “Here’s the pony of the hour!”
The captain, still reeling in the aftermath of his recent subservience, eyed him groggily. “Who are you?”
Veni laughed. The captain, after a moment, joined in. Veni stopped. “Come now, Rich, don’t you remember?” His horn flashed, and the pocketknife hung in the air by his side. “Maybe I’ll jog your memory.”
The captain scrambled back, but he had been tied well, and only managed a stumble. It was a small room, in any case. “I— I don’t—”
“No?” asked Veni, blade spinning idly, “You don’t remember the deal we had either, I s’pose?”
“W-what, what are you—”
“Shut your traitor mouth.”
The captain swallowed, and fell silent. Vinyl glanced over at Tavi, who was carefully studying the wall.
“Dija think you’d get away?” Veni grinned, teeth glinting in the heavy lantern-light. “Did you think we wouldn’t getcha?”
The captain shook his head wordlessly. His eyes were wide, terrified, and anypony could see within them he didn’t have a clue what was going on.
“Well, I bet you regret that now,” Veni chuckled, and this time the captain failed to join him.
“P-please, I—”
The knife flashed forward, once, twice, and red so dark it was almost black sprayed out against the walls. Vinyl stepped back, staring, unable to tear her eyes away, barely noticing the blood that flecked her snowy muzzle. Tavi only swallowed.
Veni shook his head, wiping the scarlet knife against the captain’s burbling corpse. “Come on,” he said, and led the way to the surface.
Lapis was waiting for them, pawing through the barrels that had been brought up. “All done?” she asked, as Veni’s knife vanished again.
“All done,” he smiled.
Vinyl barely heard the rest. She was still staring, empty, at that dripping body, the pooling blood, the slack, lifeless expression on his face.
“Vinyl,” Tavi said.
“Whuh?”
Veni tapped his head with a grin. “Not the smartest, your girl, is she?” He leered down at her, breath hot, and thick with alcohol. “That the first time you seen a dead body, kid?”
Vinyl could only nod.
He smirked. “You’ll get used to it, don’t worry.” Veni turned and dove a hoof into one of the barrels. “Good haul, though. Imagine if he’d got away with all this.” He let out a low whistle, pulling out a great purple stone from the cask. “How big a teleport you think you could fit in here? This one’s mine.”
“So,” Lapis said, looking down at me critically. “Does she pass?”
“For now,” replied Veni, distracted.
Lapis’s smile looked rather pained. “You’ll stay the night, of course,” she told Vinyl, and flashed away.
Veni placed the gem carefully into a pouch, whistling merrily. Limp hooves, yawning throat, hollow, staring eyes. Anger, terror, dread surged through Vinyl’s body, and she took a step toward him. Tavi put a hoof around her neck, and Vinyl realised she was shaking. She wanted to say something, to do something, but everything just sort of fizzled out as it reached her nerves. Like she was dying herself, and wasn’t quite connected to her body any more.
Tavi’s cheek nuzzled her own, and Vinyl found that she was suddenly burning, suddenly melting, and it was all she could do to bury her face in Tavi’s chest and cry.
Tavi held her.





“I wont blame you if you want to leave.”
“Leave?” Vinyl asked, dryly. “Hell, I’d turn up in a ditch by tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, you wouldn’t turn up,” said Tavi darkly. “Of that, I can assure you.”
Vinyl couldn’t think of anything to say to that.
“But if you want to leave, you can,” she said quietly. “I’ll make it so you can.”
“Is there much you can do against...against that sort of thing?” Vinyl asked.
“I’d find a way.” She said it with absolute certainty.
“Are you sure...” Vinyl started, but Tavi shook her head.
“You don’t have to stay.” Tavi’s hooves tightened upon her own. “That’s what I’m saying: you don’t have to stay, if you don’t want to.”
Vinyl said nothing. Tavi’s body was warm against her own, upon the covers. Her head nestled just so under Tavi’s.
“I hate them,” Tavi whispered. “I hate them, I hate them.”
Vinyl snorted. “Yeah, I can’t say I’m their biggest fan either. No offence.”
“I hate them,” said Tavi again, and tears threatened in her voice. Vinyl stroked her cheek, and pressed closer to her chest. They’d had enough crying for one night.
“So run away.”
Tavi managed something that was halfway between a laugh and a sniffle. “I wish I could.”
Vinyl sat up, looking down into her. “No, seriously, run away, and don’t come back.”
“Is that what you did?” Tavi asked.
Vinyl smiled. “Nah, my parents are lovely.”
“I’ve never met them.”
“You will, someday.”
Tavi’s mouth quivered, and she looked away. “I can’t run away. They have this entire city, I’d be found in minutes.”
“So go somewhere else.”
“Where?” Tavi let out a bitter laugh. “I don’t know anywhere else, I don’t know anypony else. And even if I did, they’d track me down. They know every route in and out of this city, every path and train and, and weather balloon. I’m not a unicorn, I can’t just...just...”
“You don’t need to be. Tavi, you’re the smartest pony I’ve ever met, if anypony can—”
“You think I haven’t thought about this?” Tavi asked, staring back at her. “You think I haven’t tried to work out a way to just leave? Seeing you is about the best I can manage, and even then...”
Vinyl sighed, falling back upon the bed. “I’m glad,” she said, after a moment.
“What?”
“I’m glad. Thanks for, for trying, even though they don’t want you to.”
The covers crinkled as Tavi rolled to face Vinyl. Her hoof came up to touch her cheek, wonderfully light and breathlessly close. She kissed her, soft and sweet. “Thank you for letting me,” she said quietly.
Vinyl licked her lips, tasting the faint salt of recent tears. She leaned in to kiss Tavi again.
“I really like you, you know?” she murmured, pressing closer.
“Yeah,” said Tavi, with a gentle laugh. “I know.” Her hoof wandered down between them, and the night around them disappeared.





After, the cool night air drifting in from the open window, they lay in contented silence. Not a hair was out of place, no matter the mess, and not a thing was in the room that wasn’t needed. Everything was just as it was, as it always should have been, and it was almost enough to make Vinyl forget the day that had come before it.
Tavi snuggled closer, and that helped, some. Her fur was soft, and warm, her eyes warm, and glowing, her smile glowing, and utterly perfect. Vinyl’s hoof ran idle patterns down her side, and she giggled as it drifted to her back, her belly, her flank. Her head rested on the slight fluff of Vinyl’s chest.
Vinyl traced the image of the treble-cleff on her flank, and a thought occurred, dancing in out of the night to give her pause. Tavi blinked up at her as her hoof stopped. “I’ve never seen you play.”
Tavi shrugged, the movement rolling and loose. “Not much use for it around here.”
“Can I see?” Vinyl asked.
Tavi gave her a Look. “What, now?”
“Only if you want to.”
Tavi seemed to consider this, biting her lip. “Well, I suppose it’s not impossible...”
Vinyl beamed, and Tavi rolled her eyes.
“All right, all right.” She made a motion to rise, and dropped back down again. Vinyl raised an eyebrow. “It’s your fault for being so comfortable,” she grumbled, and with tremendous effort, managed to sit.
Her cello was in a case at the bottom of the bed, and Vinyl watched with much interest as she bent down to retrieve it. It was heavy, polished, and near as tall as Tavi herself, but she handled it like it weighed nothing, like it was an extension of her person, rather than an instrument.
“All ready?” Vinyl asked, as Tavi seated herself upon a chair, hefting the cello into place.
“Mmm-hmm,” Tavi said, taking the bow in the crook of her hoof with that same gesture she’d used before. Now, though, it looked easy, natural, the simplest thing in the world, as she raised it to the instrument. The bow jumped as she put it to the strings, and she grimaced. She took a deep breath, and Vinyl moved forward, perching on the bed just in front of her to listen. I’m trusting you, her eyes said, and Vinyl looked straight back into them and smiled.
The bow moved, and music filled the air. Low, at first. Slow, gentle, but rising, and gradually glorious, gaining, as it soared, an elegance, a subtle beauty, and reaching higher, and fairer, and wilder. It was a bird taking wing, it was the stars burning bright, it was the cool night air in the afterglow of love.
She hummed as she played, Vinyl noticed with delight, and the tremor of her voice added a smooth, graceful undertone that gave the music a life all its own. Dancing, clear, surprising, free as the wind itself, by parts bold and nervous and cunning.
It was Tavi herself, in all her grace, her strength, her wonder. Sonorous and brilliant, luminous and splendid, blazing in its glory, magnificent in its sweep, resplendent in its quiet. Tavi may be good at other things, but this, this was what she was made to do.
As the triumph descended, and the cathedral collapsed, the music drifted, faded, into tiny, delicate little sounds, so trembling that to take one in your hoof would be to break it completely.
The music finished. Vinyl stared. Tavi swallowed.
“I’m a little rusty,” Tavi said, looking away, “but—”
Vinyl kissed her.