Sketchy awoke to a still dark room, morning sunshine still blotted out by the blinds covering the nearby window. He frowned and shook his head slightly, wondering what could have caused him to stir earlier than usual, until a muffled rapping at the door caught his attention. He yawned wide, stretching a bit, and then carefully pulled himself out of bed in order to avoid disturbing the sleeping mare alongside him. For her part, Octavia was still sleeping soundly – although, considering the periodic problems she had with her hearing, that wasn’t so much of a surprise.
“Coming!” he called as he made his way down the stairs. He opened the door to the sight of a pegasus dressed in a blue shirt and cap, with a large bag slung over her shoulders. One of Canterlot’s many mailmares, she looked rather relieved to have gotten an answer to her repeated knocking.
“Good morning! I have a telegram for you! Sketchy Sounds, yes?”
Sketchy nodded, the question he’d been about to ask of why she was knocking already answered in her greeting.
“Here you are then, Mr Sounds!” she continued politely, hoofing over the piece of paper. “We tried to deliver yesterday, but you weren’t at home and the sender requested personal delivery assurance.”
“Personal...?” Sketchy asked dully, his brain having not yet fully woken up.
“As in, they asked to make sure we gave this directly to you.”
“Oh. Oh! Durr, of course. Sorry... just woke up...” the stallion apologised. “Uhm, thanks. I’ll be sure to read it right away. Thanks for, uh, dropping it off.”
The mailmare giggled and fluttered her wings, nodding in turn. “It’s what they pay me for, after all! You have a good day now!” she said sweetly, turning and heading off down the hall. Sketchy simply nodded and closed the door, glancing to the telegram he held.
“Let’s see here...”
Dear Sketchy,
Will be arriving in Canterlot first thing tomorrow morning stop
Come meet me by the Grand Plaza fountain quarter to eleven stop
from Mum
Sketchy’s eyes drifted to a nearby clock. It was already 9:45am.
“...oh, heck!”
Octavia, who had by now stirred from her sleep thanks to the absence of her living mattress, sat up and blinked on hearing his exclamation.
“What is wrong? Are you okay, dear?”
“I’m fine! It’s fine, everything is fine,” Sketchy replied as he climbed the stairs in a hurried fashion, “just, we need to be at the Grand Plaza in about an hour’s time.”
“Well, I am sure we can make that.” Octavia mused, tilting her head at the stallion in mild bemusement. “May I ask why?”
“Becaaaause that’s when my mum expects to meet us—or me, at least—down there.” Sketchy informed her with a hint of panic in his tone.
The cellist blinked a few times at this revelation, her mind quickly waking up to the situation and grasping hold of why now was a good time to worry.
“Wait... she is arriving in an hour...!?” she exclaimed, hurriedly leaping off the bed. When she received only a nod in reply, she clattered off down the stairs, making a beeline for the bathroom.
It was a bit of a relief to Sketchy to see his companion somewhat more worked up than him. It meant he could be the one to keep a cool head over it a little more easily – and he had to admit, the way she had raced off down the stairs was just a little comical.
“Don’t fret it so much, Tavy!” he called to her, descending the stairs himself.
“This is your mother!” Octavia countered from the bathroom, over the sounds of her wrestling with her bags for a fresh bowtie, grabbing her brush to tame her hair, and fussing with her toiletries to make sure she was clean and presentable. “I cannot make a bad impression.”
“She’s honestly not that bad...” Sketchy pointed out, cautiously making his way into the tiled chamber as well to attend to his own grooming. “Though I agree, best to make a good first impression.”
The stone-grey mare was by now absorbed in brushing out her long black tail, ironing out any kinks she found and seeing to it that not a single hair was out of place. She then turned her violet-hued gaze to the mirror to see her way to tidying her mane, and finally she set aside the hairbrush and smiled a toothy smile at her reflection. She gave a slightly disgusted sounding snort.
“This will not do!” she proclaimed, then dug a toothbrush out of her bags, muttering “I was going to leave this here anyway...” before promptly giving her teeth a thorough cleansing. Sketchy raised an eyebrow at her fastidiousness amidst seeing to his own appearance.
Finally, Octavia seemed satisfied. She turned to the tall pony occupying the space alongside her, striking a pose. “Right. How do I look?”
Sketchy looked round at her, lowered his head and nuzzled her gently under her chin.
“Stunning.”
Octavia blushed in turn, her heart fluttering a little at the compliment, yet also feeling somewhat calmed by the stallion’s reassuring actions.
“My mum’s really nice, you know.” Sketchy went on, resuming his own grooming. “I’m sure you’ll hit it off quite easily.”
“I hope so. This is important, for the both of us.” Octavia murmured as she checked over each of her shoes to be sure they were polished and perfect, and examined her legs to be certain her coat was sitting properly on each limb.
“And how do I look, gorgeous?” the grey-white pony questioned a few moments later as he finished tidying his own appearance, regarding his partner with a grin.
“You... look dashing, handsome!” she replied, smiling as she stepped to him and lifted her muzzle to plant a soft kiss on his own.
“Thank you, my love. Well then, we should be on our way. My mum’s pretty punctual; it wouldn’t surprise me if she turned up well before she said she would in that note.”
“Let us get moving, then!” Octavia agreed, hefting her bags onto her back and wiggling herself a little to make them sit properly.
“Mm, shake it!” Sketchy commented jokingly, a silly grin plastered on his face as he winked to her on his way to the door.
The cellist let out a giggle at that, playfully flicking her tail to smack the stallion’s side as she passed by him out the door he had stopped to hold open for her. She paused at the top of the stairs beyond, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling to help settle her nerves. Sketchy soon joined her, and they made their way downward.
“I’ll say it again lass, you’ve nothing to worry about. Just be yourself. I’m crazy about you, and my mum knows that.”
“Oh, I know. It is just worry; I want everything to be perfect. She is your mother, after all. I know I am very likely fretting for naught as you say, but still...”
The artist nodded in reply as they headed out of the Old Chapel’s door and towards the downward-winding avenue. He could understand where she was coming from – were the tables turned, and it was her parents they were meeting, he too would have been somewhat unnerved.
Little more was said of the matter as they continued on their way, with Sketchy glancing a little worriedly at the assorted clock faces they passed en route. By the time they reached the Grand Plaza, it was already 10:40. They were five minutes early, which was a relief.
The two of them sat down next to the massive decorative fountain that dominated the centre of the Grand Plaza itself. The plaza was a place of some significance, if you were into Equestrian history: it was rather liberally decorated with statues of assorted famed figures from the kingdom’s past. There were many legendary ponies immortalised in stone and sat upon columns around the square.
The fountain of course was no exception, as it was a marvellous multi-tiered masterpiece of masonry. At the bottom were the figures of several ponies of all races, supporting the large bottom tier of the fountain. Stood atop that were some of the more notable figures from the early history of the kingdom, supporting another tier upon their backs. On that higher tier stood the figures of six ponies that any foal who paid attention in history could name: Commander Hurricane, Chancellor Puddinghead, Princess Platinum, Smart Cookie, Private Pansy, and Clover the Clever. Those six in turn supported another tier, and stood atop this tier were only two ponies who nevertheless were instantly recognisable to all, poised as they were with regal grace and depicted hoisting the sun and the moon aloft.
Octavia laid her head against Sketchy’s shoulder in an effort to keep her cool. She couldn’t shake the jittery feeling she had, much like the nervousness before a performance. With that said, the pleasant surroundings and company helped allay it all somewhat.
“You know, I tend to miss this part of town often. It always amazes me each time to see what is here.”
“It is quite the sight.” Sketchy agreed, leaning his own head against hers. As they sat enjoying the surroundings, however, a voice from off to the side called for the cellist’s attention.
“Miss Octavia! How lovely to see you around here! Ooh, and this handsome fellow must be the lucky pony you wrote that wonderful composition for, yes?”
Octavia blinked, lifting her head and turning her gaze in the direction of the voice. It belonged to a bespectacled, purple-coated earth pony, possessed of a slender build, a very dark brown mane and tail, and deep green eyes peering at the two ponies with a friendly glimmer.
“Ah... yes, Madam, I did indeed. His name is Sketchy Sounds, and I am very happy to have met him. Were you there for the Equinox Concert, then?” Octavia enquired, adopting her usual professional and polite air.
“I’m afraid I didn’t have the pleasure, but I certainly read all about it!” the elder-looking mare replied, glancing to the larger of the two and then back to Octavia with a nod. “He’s a lucky stallion, to be sure.”
Sketchy’s face finally cracked out in a grin, and a snicker escaped his lips as he spoke up. “I sure am, and I’m glad you think so... mum!”
Octavia blinked, looking from the mare before her to Sketchy and back, suddenly feeling a trifle dazed.
“Oh... oh my!” she exclaimed, dipping her head towards the bespectacled pony. “Madam Trillian! My... It is so nice to finally meet you!”
The purple pony giggled mischievously, a broad smile adorning her features. “Ahahaha! Oh dear, I am sorry!” she exclaimed. “I couldn’t resist a little mischief. Oh, and don’t go calling me ‘madam’, you’ll make me feel ancient!”
The stone-grey mare smiled at that, feeling her previous anxiety start to melt. “I do apologise, Trillian. It is my nature. Let me say again, it is a pleasure to meet you!”
Trillian nodded in reply, a similar smile adorning her features. “And you too, dear. Now then!” she went on, turning her attention to Sketchy. “Who’s got a hug for his poor old mother?”
Having said that, she reared up on her hind legs and threw her forelegs around the stallion’s shoulders. He chuckled, raising a foreleg and wrapping it around her in return. “Good to see you, mum.”
Octavia’s nose scrunched up slightly as she watched the two, her smile growing. “Awww!” she commented.
The elder mare released her son, dropping back onto all fours, and looked over to Octavia with a grin. “I swear he gets bigger every time I see him.”
“That or you’re shrinking, mum.” Sketchy commented, sticking his tongue out. He and Trillian both laughed at that, causing Octavia to laugh into her hoof as well.
“So cute, both of you!”
“Oh, he gets that from his mum.” Trillian asserted with a grin.
“Kids, right?” Octavia smiled. She then moved to embrace the older pony in a gentle hug of her own, which she was quietly relieved to have reciprocated. “I am very happy to finally meet you, Trillian. Family is such an important part of life.”
“The pleasure is mine, dear. And you’re quite right! I’m glad one of you knows how important family is.” Trillian replied, her latter remark aimed at Sketchy in a light-hearted tone as she released her hold on the cellist.
“Let me guess, you do not put pen to paper often enough?” Octavia questioned the stallion, giving him a playful nudge. He snickered in reply and stuck his tongue out at her, making her giggle as she turned her attention back to his mother.
“He is very sweet, though. I am sure he can be reminded to write on a more regular basis from now on.”
Trillian laughed happily at that. “That’s very good of you, dear. Why, you’re earning your keep already!”
A melodious giggle left Octavia’s mouth at that, a relaxed smile creasing her face. “I must say, I was a bit nervous about meeting you, Trillian, but you are such a delight!”
“Well, that makes two of us then.” the purple mare replied happily, turning slightly to start walking. “I was also a little nervous about meeting one of my favourite musicians in the flesh, but I’m relieved to see you’re a very down-to-earth mare with all four hooves on the ground.”
Octavia couldn’t help but blush a bit at the praise, and she bowed her head slightly. “Why, thank you madam Trillian!”
“Oh come now dear, I said not to call me madam!” the older mare teased. She then jerked her head slightly in the general direction of the city’s shops. “Shall we get something to eat? Knowing my son, you two won’t have had breakfast before coming to meet me.”
Her remark was met with a laugh and a nod from Sketchy. “Sharp as ever, mother dearest!”
“We do normally have breakfast, but today was a bit of a dash, most certainly.” Octavia agreed with a bit of a giggle, following alongside Trillian. “We had somewhat of a long night visiting with a friend.”
“Oh yes? Anyone I know?”
The cellist smiled, leaning her head towards her fellow mare and lowering her voice. “Princess Luna herself.”
Trillian gasped sharply, looking round at Octavia with a look of surprise. “No! Really!?”
“I know! I still pinch myself!” Octavia giggled, casting a glance over her shoulder at Sketchy following behind them. “We got a tour as well, yes?”
“We sure did! Oh and my goodness... I tell you, last night was without a doubt the most surreal experience I’ve ever had, bar none.” he grinned, leaning his head down between the two ladies. “It isn’t every day you get ushered around the palace by Luna herself, and see her acting like a little filly.” he continued in hushed tones.
“Oh, oh, and we also got to meet Pri—” Octavia began, then leaned her head over and lowered her voice again. “Princess Celestia. Oh, and you will never guess what happened after that!” A giggle left her throat, just the memory of what had gone on making her giddy inside.
“Wait, you met Celestia as well!?” Trillian blinked, her eyes growing wide. She turned her gaze on Sketchy for a moment. “You know, son, if it weren’t for the fact you were trotting about with Octavia here, and the both of you were telling me this tale, I’d have a tough time believing it!” She smiled, then, and added “Not that I don’t believe you, mind. I can tell a lie from you when I hear one.”
She then turned her gaze back to Octavia. “Well now, don’t leave me hanging. What happened?”
The cellist skipped in her step a little. “We played a song for them both – and Luna played alongside us!” She let out a sigh, a wide smile crossing her face. “It was probably the second best night of my entire life.”
A warm smile spread over Sketchy’s face at that, and he leaned his head down to rub cheeks with the black-maned mare. The fact that the top spot had more to do with him was implicit enough in what she’d said.
Octavia smiled at the attention as she continued. “I never, ever would have imagined such a situation unfolding as it did.”
Trillian chuckled softly, nodding. “I can’t say I would have, either. Luna must cherish your bond rather deeply to allow you in to look around like that.”
“Yes, oh my, she has shown us some wonderful things! And my goodness, I did not know—or rather, I never thought that someone in such a position could become a friend. I know, it sounds ridiculous now when I say it out loud, and I am very much rambling – but my mind is still in such a whirl, it takes my breath away to think of it.”
“Mmm.” the purple-coated mare nodded. “If there is one thing I’ve learned in all my years, it’s that authority has very little meaning or sway in deciding one’s friends. Just because somepony happens to be a princess, it doesn’t mean she’s different from the rest of us in any way that matters. Everyone has the same needs, the same emotions. That includes those two.”
A brief giggle escaped her throat as a thought crossed her mind. “And you two as well. My goodness, my poor son must have been an absolute mental wreck when he first met you in the flesh!”
Sketchy gave a hearty laugh at that. “Guilty as charged!” He stepped past the two mares and pushed open the door of the shop they had come to. There was a cheerful tinkling of a bell from overhead as he did so, causing Octavia to look up at the familiar sound. They had, as she suspected, arrived at Graze.
“That is a story all of its own!” she exclaimed, following Trillian into the familiar sandwich shop. “We had an interesting beginning, to say the least.”
“Well, all things considered, I couldn’t imagine it being anything but!”
They had been fortunate enough to arrive at the little shop in the pre-lunch lull. The sounds of vegetables being chopped and the smell of freshly baked bread permeated the air, accompanied by the clatter of plates being cleaned from the kitchen. There was a familiar face behind the counter though – one which lit up and looked in their direction the moment Trillian called out.
“Hello, Sally my dear!”
“Bless ma soul, Trilly!” the rosy-coated unicorn exclaimed happily. “Ah didn’t know yew were gunna be in town today!”
“Hmm, is that so? I wonder whose fault that is...” Trillian smiled, casting a glance over her shoulder at Sketchy.
Octavia, meanwhile, was openly showing her delight at hearing the unicorn’s natural tones. “I adore her accent!” she commented to Trillian, before looking over to Salad herself. “You know, Sally, were we to come here any more often than we do, you would have to charge us rent!”
Salad laughed, flashing a huge grin at the cellist in return. “Aw shucks, hon, Ah couldn’t do that! Why, yer practically like a part of th’ family these days!”
Octavia’s ears curled back as she smiled warmly at her friend’s affectionate statement. “How sweet! It is almost too much!” she giggled, leaning slightly against her stallion companion.
“Well then Sally, if that’s the case then you’ll already know everypony’s favourites, right? Go ahead and rustle them up, it’s on me.” Trillian instructed.
“Thank you, madam.” Octavia intoned, bowing her head slightly to the kindly mare. “It is going to get busy here soon enough, shall we find a space?”
“Let’s.” she agreed, making her way over to a vacant table. Sketchy stepped ahead of her and politely pulled the chair out for her. He then moved to another chair and pulled that one out for Octavia, earning him an approving smile from both his mother and his mate.
“Good, you’ve not forgotten your manners since you struck out on your own.” Trillian noted.
Octavia laughed brightly as Sketchy seated himself. “He is a complete gentlecolt around me, Trillian.”
“Why Tavy, you make it sound like I’m a total lout the rest of the time!” Sketchy teased.
“Haha! Not at all! I am sure you are the most chivalrous pony in this town!” the cellist replied. Her eyes went wide and she blinked in surprise, however, as Sketchy’s mother suddenly ducked theatrically.
“Goodness, that was close!” the purple-coated pony exclaimed. Noting Octavia’s bemused expression, a cheeky smirk wrote itself on her face as she explained. “I nearly got hit by his inflating ego.”
Octavia’s expression rapidly went from puzzled to amused, and straight on to outright mirth as she burst into a fit of giggles, having to fight to keep her balance in her seat. “Oh... oh my, Trillian! You are simply too much!” she exclaimed between peals of laughter.
“Ahaha, I’m just being silly. Pay no attention.” the bespectacled mare grinned, clearly delighted with her audience’s reaction.
“Do behave yourself, mum.” Sketchy snickered, a large grin on his face as he watched his mate fight to regain control over her laughter.
“So... you are from Shetland, correct?” the cellist questioned, managing to get her breath back as she sat up straight once more. The subject of her attention smiled, nodding.
“Aye, lassy, that’s correct!” she intoned, her roots bubbling to the fore in the form of a heavily rolled “r” and a certain twanging to her speech. Octavia clapped her front hooves together happily upon hearing it.
“I just love that accent! My, you never know where any pony is from in this town, they are all so proper – and I am no exception, I must admit.”
“Well, that’s as may be, dear, but...” Trillian began, and her intonation underwent somewhat of a metamorphosis as she continued. “Quando si parla, posso sentire un leggero sentore di esso.”
“Ah!” Octavia exclaimed, her ears perking straight up, and her eyes widening as a broad smile spread across her face. “Sí sí sí! Signora! Questo é fantastico! Ah... how did you know that? I mean, even the dialect is correct!”
Sketchy was taken aback somewhat by what he heard. Octavia’s proper-sounding tones had suddenly been stripped completely away, and instead what he heard was a distinctive and exotic tone, punctuated by a delightful lilting mode of speech with varying intonation that rose and fell with each word. He had, of course, suspected that she wasn’t native to Canterlot – after all, whenever she’d mentioned her parents to him before, she’d spoken of them in a manner that implied they didn’t live anywhere near the city.
There was also the fact that there were traces of what he now heard in her everyday speech, but up until now he’d never heard more than small hints of it around the edges. Now, the cellist was happily chatting away without her formal tone in place, not even attempting to mask her native accent.
“Ahh! There it is! Wonderful, I love it!” Trillian declared triumphantly, her own Shetland roots showing again. “It’s my skill, dear.” She patted the mark emblazoned across her flank for emphasis. It was a depiction of a pair of overlapping speech bubbles of two different colours, blending into one colour where they overlapped.
“Ah, I see!” Octavia nodded. “Sketchy did make mention of it the other day, that your talent was to do with language. I did not ask what exactly it was at the time, though. You are full of surprises!”
“Well dear, what I am is a linguistics specialist.”
“That means she’s spent most of her life listening to other ponies talk.” Sketchy cut in with a cheeky grin. His own speech had changed ever so slightly, bearing more similarity to the Shetland brogue his mother used. It was likely no coincidence that it was occurring in her presence.
“Aye, it’s true.” Trillian affirmed. “Language is an absolutely fascinating thing. You can tell an awful lot about somepony just by listening to them speak. It’s the little things that tell you the most.”
“That is fascinating!” Octavia enthused, leaning forward slightly in her seat. “Especially for me; I do after all spend a lot of my time listening to ponies play music. Sure, I could pick out one tone from a whole symphony of sounds and tell you who made that instrument, but this... is incredible! Tell me, what was it? Was it my ‘e’s?”
Trillian nodded, her enthusiasm for her craft plain to see. “That was probably the biggest tip-off! You draw them out a bit, you see. Took me a while though to put that together with the other little things here and there, and I needed to hear you speak for long enough to be sure. Ah, and when you laughed as well, that helped too.”
“Aha, so that is why you let me ramble on!” Octavia joked, an amused grin plastered on her features.
“Well, not just that, of course!” the older mare smiled. “You have a lovely accent, dear. You shouldn’t be so worried about letting it shine through! Wouldn’t kill Canterlot to have a bit of variety – and besides, you’re committing a terrible crime by depriving your coltfriend of hearing your sexy exotic tones.” she concluded with a cheeky grin.
Sketchy promptly blushed a bright red at that remark, and he clapped his front hooves to his face, uttering a slightly muted “Mum...!” in the appropriate tone for a child who just got thoroughly embarrassed by his parent.
As for Octavia, she took a few moments of sitting in silent, wide-eyed shock to see the funny side, and she burst out laughing with a hoof clapped to her mouth and her head down towards the table. “Oh... my!” she managed to utter between giggles.
Trillian in turn gave a high pitched, filly-like giggle . “Eheehee! Oh, I’m sorry, both of you. It’s true though! You shouldn’t hide such a lovely tone, it’s a part of who you are. And I’m not making this up, there’re studies that’ve shown that particular group of accents are, for some reason, a big hit with most folk. I’ve yet to fathom the exact science behind it, if there is one, but I certainly love the sound myself. I don’t know, perhaps it has something to do with the almost musical quality of it? I’m sure I’ll get to the bottom of it some time.”
A blush still painted Octavia’s cheeks as she lifted her head from her giggling. “Well... Well! Perhaps Canterlot will just have to hear a new instrument in the crowd, then.” she stated, leaving aside the mask she had been keeping on her speech. “Your son has managed to teach me a thing or two about the importance of friends, and now you too have taught me something new. I must thank you, Trillian and Sketchy both, for opening my eyes to such things.”
Sketchy simply grinned at that. “Well lass, now you know where I get that from. Some of it, anyway!”
“I am happy to see the two of you together.” Trillian smiled, looking from her son to Octavia. “You’re every bit the refined lady I expected – well, minus the snobbiness I’d worried you might have had.”
“As long as you are not among my quartet, you will never hear me being snobby, that is for sure!” Octavia replied with a giggle, sitting up and adjusting her bowtie in a gesture of self parody.
The older mare chuckled, and turned her attention once more to Sketchy. “As for you my boy, I’m going to teach you a very valuable phrase in this young lady’s native tongue. Something wonderfully expressive, to show your love for her.” There was a slightly mischievous glimmer in her eyes, one which Sketchy failed to notice.
“Uh-huh? Go on!” he prodded enthusiastically. Octavia simply tilted her head slightly and listened carefully, wondering exactly what the linguist was about to say.
“Well Sketchy, should you ever find yourself walking with her out on a clear summer night, and it’s just the two of you; if you feel your heart welling over with emotion and you simply must express it, here is what to do. Take her hooves in your own, look deep into her eyes and say...” and here she paused for effect, before continuing on in her best rendition of the cellist’s native speech in a low whisper, “Vieni, mia cara, facciamo l’amore sotto le stelle.”
“That’s... beautiful.” Sketchy breathed, and then he glanced over at Octavia. She had turned a very deep shade of red across her cheeks and nose. “...wow, that must have been something amazing, I’ll commit it to memory!”
Octavia promptly clapped a hoof to her snout to muffle her giggles, shaking her head as she did so. Just as Sketchy was about to question his mother on what the phrase meant, however, Salad turned up with their food and promptly laid it down on the table.
“Here y’all are!” she chirped, and then noticed Octavia fighting to stop laughing. “Shucks, did Ah miss a joke here?”
“Oh, nothing big.” Trillian smoothly stated, smiling at the unicorn. “Thank you, dear!”
Sketchy, meanwhile, looked slightly bewilderedly between his mate and his mother, and then chuckled. “Building some in-jokes already, are you? That didn’t take long!”
“I promise it was completely innocent!” Octavia declared, flashing a wink at Trillian and then turning her attention to Salad. Her face was still burning somewhat, but she kept her tone as cool as she could – though her voice now swayed on the sounds of her roots as she spoke up again. “This looks delicious as always, dear.”
“Thank yuh, Tavy! ...say, uh, yer soundin’ a mite different alla sudden. Whut’s that all ‘bout?”
“Let us just say you are not the only one hiding under the prim and proper mask of Canterlot society.” Octavia replied, a smile playing around her features. A grin formed on Salad’s face in return.
“Well slap ma flank and send me to tha moon! Ah’d never a’ guessed!”
Octavia laughed softly at the unicorn’s exclamation. “Trillian caught me out, just like that.”
The unicorn giggled, nodding. “Yuh-huh, she does that! If there’s one thing yuh cain’t hide from her, it’s where yer from. It’s a mite spooky sometimes Ah tell yuh, but it’s mighty impressive too.”
“That it is!” Octavia smiled, eyeing the sandwich before her. “My thanks again, Sally. Your sandwiches look delicious.”
“Anf they tashte duhwiffush too!” Sketchy eloquently commented, his mouth full of bread and vegetables. He caught his mother’s attention with that, and she turned her gaze on him with a displeased look.
“Young man, it is poor manners to speak with your mouth full, and well you know it.” she stated pointedly in the refined tone of a parent with years of experience correcting her children. The effect was practically instantaneous on Sketchy, as he promptly sat up straight, took his hooves off the table and politely swallowed his mouthful of sandwich.
“Sorry mum!” he said with an apologetic grin. She in turn grinned back at him, her green eyes twinkling.
Octavia once more had to fight her laughter, this time having to avoid choking on her own food as she quickly swallowed it down. “Oh my goodness, Trillian, you are going to kill me at this rate!”
“Is that so? You’d best be careful should you meet his father, then.” the mare replied, a knowing smile on her face.
“Oh? This sounds interesting, do tell!” the cellist replied, perking up and focusing her attention on Trillian.
“Ah... let’s just say that, during the years we were together, a lot of his sense of humour rubbed off on me. He is probably the most entertaining pony I ever had the joy of meeting... it’s a great shame that he was so very foolish.” the bespectacled mare mused, averting her gaze to the ceiling with a nostalgic smile on her face. She sighed, shrugged, and returned her gaze to the black-maned pony across from her. “Ah, but I won’t bore you with that.”
Octavia nodded, quietly chewing on a bite of sandwich. She could tell from the way Trillian spoke that there were scars left over from those days that were best left undisturbed. “Perhaps some other time, then. What’s his special talent, if you do not mind my asking?”
“His talent? He’s a driving instructor.” Trillian smiled. “Carriages, chariots, carts, etcetera. Anything that a pony might pull, he provides instruction on it.”
The young mare blinked, swallowing down her mouthful quickly. “You know, I never would have thought that was required. I mean, I have never imagined doing such myself! I assume, though, there is more goes into it than I am thinking.”
“There is, a surprising amount in fact.” Trillian nodded. “I mean, we take our transport for granted, but you really need to have some proper training if you’re going to be relied on to pull a load safely. You have to know the right way to stop a vehicle without hurting yourself for one, and to know how much you can pull uphill and downhill for another. If you’re going to be pulling more than a certain weight, you need to be licensed to do so. That way anyone that might want you to pull large loads has the reassurance you won’t injure yourself from doing it wrong.”
Octavia nodded, listening intently. “Certainly the Royal Guards that pull the flying chariots need to be able to do all of that flawlessly. I have rode in those once or twice, when I have been carried to concerts or rehearsals for royally funded events.”
“You have? Ooh, now I’m jealous!” Trillian pouted, feigning annoyance. She then cracked into a grin. “That must have been quite something!”
“Honestly? I am scared to death of heights.” the cellist replied with a shake of her head. “Even when magically whisked away...” she trailed off, glancing round at Sketchy. He grinned knowingly.
“Oh, but you have to admit, that was pretty awesome!”
“Yes, yes it was, but still! Being cast off from the highest spire in the city, back to your...” Octavia replied, and then lowered her voice back down as she had started to get a little loud from thinking back on the memory. “...back to your home! That was crazy!”
“Whut in the hay are yuh yammerin’ on about now?” Salad questioned, tilting her head in a confused manner. Trillian also raised an eyebrow, silently asking for an explanation.
“...maybe better if we explain some other time, in a less public environment.” Sketchy grinned.
“Definitely less public.” Octavia agreed, giggling a little into her hoof. She then looked over to Sally and leaned towards her, lowering her voice. “The Princess told me she will stop by personally for a meal some time in the near future.”
The unicorn gasped at that little bit of news, her face lighting up with excitement. “Ooh, gosh! That’s gunna—” she began, but she hastily quietened down as the tell-tale tinkle of the shop’s bell alerted her to the start of the lunch hour rush. She quickly adjusted her speech to a more formal manner as she finished her sentence “—going to be wonderful! Well, I must tend to the needs of my customers, my friends! I hope you enjoyed your meal!”
The three ponies watched her trot back off to the counter, before returning their attention to each other.
“How long do you plan to be in town for, may I ask?” Octavia questioned the older mare.
“Perhaps not as long as I’d like.” Trillian admitted. “Only a few days, just long enough to catch up with family and friends. That and to pick up some little trinkets and curiosities I can’t get all the way back across the sea.”
“I see. Well, perhaps if you are not too busy, we could visit the park some afternoon while you are here, and I can play something for you?” the classically-trained pony suggested. The prospect of playing for an audience with an appreciative ear was a pleasing one, after all.
“Oh, I would absolutely love that!”
“Marvellous! I am sure it will attract a crowd, too.” Octavia stated happily, clapping her hooves together. The bespectacled mare giggled at that.
“Oh good, then I can feel all important and famous by saying you laid on a performance in the park just for my sake.” she said, a broad grin plastered on her face.
“Indeed! Whenever I practice in public, ponies tend to want to stop and listen. The park has a small theatre we can use, so long as there is nothing else going on; the weather is so beautiful this time of year, it would be a shame to stay inside.”
“That sounds absolutely delightful, dear. I shall quite happily take you up on that offer.” Trillian smiled.
“Very well. Perhaps you should play with me as well?” Octavia questioned her stallion companion.
“Sure, I’d like that.” Sketchy nodded.
“It’s settled, then. Hmm... tomorrow, if the weather’s nice? Or perhaps the day after?” Trillian questioned.
“Certainly! Let us hope those pegasi keep the skies clear!”
“Quite so. Well, I have some things to attend to. I’m planning to do a little shopping and catch up with some old friends. I already arranged with Honey and Mustard to stay over here tonight, and I expect they won’t let me get away with not taking them up on their hospitality for the rest of my time here either.” Trillian smiled, speaking fondly of Salad’s parents.
Octavia nodded, getting up from her seat with a smile, and moved to hug the older pony. “Madam, it has been such a pleasure. I cannot wait to spend the afternoon with you, today has been a lot of fun!”
Trillian chuckled, reciprocating the affectionate gesture gently. “Likewise, Tavy.” she replied, leaning back to let go. She paused, however, to look the younger mare in the eyes. “And I told you not to call me ‘madam’, young lady.” she said with a wink and a smile, before finally letting go of the cellist.
“I know, Trillian. What can I say? Old habits die hard.” Octavia smiled back, giggling a little. The older mare’s smile grew, as she nodded in understanding.
“They do, at that.”
As the stone-grey mare then saw to picking up her bags, Sketchy rose from his seat and approached his mother. He lowered his head and pressed his cheek up against hers, his neck curling around hers a little in a hug.
“Great to see you, mum. We’ll leave you to it?”
“Yes yes, you kids go and have fun. I’ll see you again.” she replied, cuddling up to him briefly before breaking the embrace and smiling fondly up at him. He kissed her cheek in return, and then joined Octavia as she made her way for the door.
“Thank you again, Sally! Hope you have a good lunch rush!” she called to the unicorn.
“Thank you, darling! You have a delightful day as well, thank you for stopping by!” the unicorn called back in her well practiced Canterlot tones over the low din of hungry customers.
Octavia flashed a smile to the unicorn, then glanced back in Trillian’s direction. “Io a cuore questa volta!” she called, before she and Sketchy headed out the door.
The street outside was filled with a bustling crowd of ponies filing past, some of them heading into the shop they’d just exited.
“Well! We just managed to beat the rush, it would seem.” the grey mare observed, her speech still ringing with the sound of her native accent. “Shall we head back to my place? If we are to play for your mother tomorrow, we shall have to get in some practice!”
“We will, at that.” Sketchy agreed, falling into step alongside her.
“Your mother is a delight, by the way!” Octavia added at length as they strolled along down towards the outlying neighbourhood where she made her home.
“Aye? I did tell you she was fun and you didn’t have to worry!” the stallion replied with a grin.
“You did at that, but my goodness I was not expecting her to be so... colourful! I see now, as you said before, where you get it from.”
“I’m sure she’d be happy to hear you say that.”
“I do not doubt it.” Octavia nodded, a small giggle escaping her throat as they continued on their way. As they neared her house, she spoke up once more.
“You know, you are quite the runner to have made it from my house to Graze and back so quickly the other night. Do not ever let me underestimate your speed again!”
“Well, what can I say? I ate my alfalfa like a good little colt when I was growing up, so I grew up big and strong!” Sketchy snickered, leaning his head down briefly to nip playfully at one of the graceful mare’s ears. She giggled at that, turning her head to smile up at him lovingly, before returning her gaze to the scene before them.
The modest cottage that Octavia called home stood out on its own, a little way back from everything else, surrounded on all sides by a field of gently swaying grass and flowers. The soft scent of jasmine wafted through the air; the waning warmth of summer giving way to autumn having enticed it to bloom. It was simultaneously an inviting picture and somewhat of a lonely one: although the house itself was clearly something that had been built with care and attention, it was also separated from the surrounding homes by its floral barrier.
Stood as they were, taking in the sight for a moment, triggered a forgotten thought in the stallion’s mind.
“Tavy? There was something I remembered a while ago. Several weeks back, actually, which I forgot to ever ask you about.”
“Oh? Well by all means, do tell, dear.” the mare stated invitingly, making her way towards the house’s entrance.
“It’s a memory from some time ago.” Sketchy went on, following after her as they made their way inside. “When I was still in school, actually. I used to hang out with Sally and Freezy the whole time. Freezy reminded me, not long after you and I started seeing each other... that wasn’t the first time we’ve met. Figuratively speaking.”
“It was not...?”
“Nope, though to be fair I don’t think we ever properly met before. Think back to when you were still in primary school.”
Octavia’s brow furrowed in thought, her violet eyes drifting toward the ceiling as she cast her mind back several years.
The young grey filly trotted hastily along the path towards school. She had just finished lunch at one of the local establishments, and she was now being ushered back towards the institution where she would spend the next several hours absorbing yet more knowledge and experience of things she took little interest in. Well, that was not wholly true: she at least derived a lot of enjoyment from her experience of music, even if learning it could be somewhat of an ordeal at times.
As always, she was several steps ahead of her escort. Young and energetic as she still was, it was little trouble for her to out-pace the older mare her parents left her in the care of each day, which meant that she had time enough to skip ahead and take in the assorted sights, sounds and smells of Canterlot during the day outside of school.
A sound caught her ears. Off down a side street, she could faintly hear a noise that appealed to her young ears. It was the unmistakable racket of other foals at play; their laughs and screams of excitement mingling into a background hum of general happiness. She hesitated, however. This was not, after all, the usual route back to where she was expected to go. But with that said...
As she rounded the corner at the end of the street, a marvellous sight met her eyes. Beyond the fence before her was a large group of young ponies, some of them older and some of them younger than her. They were rushing about, skipping to and fro, playing all sorts of games and obviously enjoying themselves. She came to a halt, gazing across the road at what she saw. It would be untrue to say that she did not see this sort of thing happening in the grounds of the school she attended, but it was always so much more... reserved than this. The happy chaos going on across the road did not seem subject to the same sort of restrictions placed on the children at play where she was educated.
As she stood transfixed by the sight, her eyes wandering across the schoolyard, she suddenly realised that she herself was being watched. Her violet gaze was met by one of brilliant icy blue, framed by pure white. She blinked, taking a step back. The pegasus whom had caught her eye didn’t break eye contact, but her lips moved as she waved to a pair of ponies close by. They in turn looked across the road at the little grey filly with a jet black mane spying on them, with an air of intrigue written on their faces.
Before she could consider taking a step closer, however, her elderly escort had caught up with her. She was hastily ushered onward, her nanny fussing on about how she would be late getting back in for classes if they did not hurry.
“...ah!”
“You remember, then?”
“Yes, yes I do. When I would walk from lunch back to school, and sometimes when I would head home... I recall now. I used to sometimes pause for a spell, to see how the other foals my age got along. I... suppose you could say that I was envious.”
“Envious?” Sketchy blinked.
“You must understand, dear, with my having such a classy upbringing, it was expected that I and all of the other pupils at the Canterlot Academy of the Arts conducted ourselves with a certain degree of self-control. It was considered poor behaviour to go running around and screaming with excitement, for example.”
“So that’s why you used to stop and gawk at the kids at the public school?”
Octavia nodded, flopping down on the large and comfortable couch that dominated her living room. “That is essentially the size of it. I could not fathom why you and your schoolmates had more liberty than I did. It did not make any sense to me – and if I am honest, it still makes little sense to me now.”
Having said that, she sprawled herself out in a somewhat unladylike fashion, making a mess of the carefully arranged cushions and pillows. “How fortunate that, now I am no longer subject to their authority, I need not adhere to such rules constantly!” she giggled.
Sketchy had to agree, as he took the opportunity to somewhat unashamedly eye her up where she lay on display. “Sometimes elegance has to take a back seat to comfort.”
“Precisely.” the grey mare agreed, wiggling a back hoof at him. “Besides, it is very seldom that anypony gets to see a lady such as myself laid flat on her back.” With that, she lazily picked up a pillow and tossed it in the general direction of the stallion. It sailed straight past his head by several feet, eliciting a chuckle from him.
“Classy, honey.” he grinned, trotting over to where she lay. She grinned and let out a giggle of her own as he approached, her eyes twinkling.
“But, but, but...! You spent all of this time getting me to unwind and relax, and now you are laughing at my expense!” she protested in a mock upset tone, pouting her lips and arching her eyebrows in a feigned display.
“Silly filly...” Sketchy smiled, leaning his head down towards hers. His lips met with her own, and his eyes slid shut. He could feel her feigned upset vanish from her face, followed by her forelegs slipping around his neck and shoulders as she pulled him closer in a tight embrace – one which he willingly let himself be pulled down into.
Octavia was certainly pleased with her stallion’s reaction, and she pulled him onto the couch entirely. She broke the kiss for a moment to giggle softly and look up at him. “You do know we will have to practice something for your mother tomorrow still, yes?”
“Oh, I know. But we have the whole rest of the day for that.”
“We do, at that...” she agreed, pulling him back down once more as she relaxed into the blurry haze of passion that had begun to cloud her mind. As her perceptions receded into nothing save for herself and her loved one, she momentarily dwelt once more on the lonely memory of a little grey filly forced to sacrifice socialising for success. Instead of feeling sad as she usually did when recalling such things, however, she now could not prevent herself from being glad that, in the end, that same filly had eventually made the kind of friends she had longed for.