//------------------------------// // Changes // Story: The Opera Phantom Discord // by Alexandrite Ward //------------------------------// Changes Discord was pacing in one of the shadowed tunnels of the underground labyrinth. But it wasn't simply any tunnel…it was the tunnel that led to her chamber. He cursed himself over and over as he paced, feeling like such a fool for being there. What was he doing there anyway? He ran a paw through his black hair, knowing the full reason why. She had called him a monster…and she was right. Ever since the night he heard her sing and saw her bathing in the lagoon, he did not trust himself around her. She was beautiful, seductive, and had the voice like an angel. Music was his greatest passion, and she embodied music. She had shown him countless times that she was a unique mare. She had a spirit that did not cower before him or other stallions, she stood by those she loved, her nature was kind, and she was not so easily blinded by the illusions others created in front of her…like the Prince. And he still didn't understand why…why when she had the chance to run away and be free, that she returned to the Opera House, and helped nurse him back to health. Was it pity that she felt for him? If so, he didn't want it, and perhaps that was why he was so cold to her. But he knew it was more than that. It was not pity that he saw her give to the others; she had become a close friend to all of them…with the exception of Rainbow Dash who wanted nothing to do with her…although Discord had noticed that Rainbow Dash was less grumpy these days. No, she didn't pity him, pity was the last thing she felt towards him. Discord sighed, knowing he had been cruel, that he had been ruthless. Yes, he had warned her he would be hard and demand much from her, but…he had been blinded by his own discovery of her voice to forget that the voice belonged to somepony…and he had not made that realization until he had her in his arms against the piano. He groaned as he remembered how she felt in his arms. She was trembling slightly, but it was out of anger and contempt. That was not the way he wanted to feel her against him. Discord knew it was impossible, she would never allow such things to happen…but he longed to feel her tremble willingly in his arms, to feel her sag against him and clutch at him for strength. He groaned again and felt his loins stir at the thought, but he quickly shook the thought from his head. When Rarity had asked him what he feared, he could not look into the mare's eyes, for the answer would reflect in them. Over twenty years ago Discord had watched as a mare he believed himself in love with throw herself at another stallion. He had felt so happy in those days when he wrote her songs and poems, watching her from afar, ready to protect her at all costs if someone dared to attack the beautiful dancer. But Pinkamena was like all the others; a handsome face with money flattered her dancing, filled her head with sweet compliments, and within the blink of an eye, she was on her back with her legs spread wide for the spoiled Prince. Discord knew since that day that love was a weakness designed to make stallions go mad. And that was exactly what he was experiencing all over again with Fluttershy…madness. So he resorted to treating her like an object instead of a living being; after all, that was how he was treated for the first seventeen years of his life. By being cruel he would not be able to care; and she would come to despise and hate him, which should insure that the damn stirrings within his soul and heart would disappear. But he was wrong… He devoted himself to music, composing and conducting, loosing himself in his masterpiece. He wrote letters to the mangers, demanding that they prepare for his opera, knowing he could not wait; he wanted it to be performed before the season was over. He threatened them, frightened them, even kidnapped Fleur De Lis, and yet still he could not get the mare out of his head. He had gotten to the point when he was able to separate her voice from herself…but that all changed when she refused to sing and he became violent. He hated himself for that. He had done many things in life that he was not proud of…but he truly felt that was one of his lowest moments. So here he was…pacing in the tunnel near her chamber. Rarity didn't tell him to come and apologize, to go and speak with her…he just felt the need to do it himself. But he still felt like such a fool. "I'm being more of a fool for standing out here," he grumbled to himself. With a sigh, Discord descended down the tunnel, prepared to look like an absolute idiot. Fluttershy was lying on the bed on her stomach, gazing at the tiny trickling waterfall that poured into the tiny pool. Her throat was beginning to feel better, however the rest of her felt sore from the fight that she had had with Discord. She wanted to hate him, felt she had every right to, but still, no matter how hard she concentrated, there was still a part of her that wanted to embrace him, to show him that not everyone in the world was cruel, to teach him happiness and…and…affection? Fluttershy groaned and buried her face against her pillow, unaware that she had a visitor. "Is this a bad time?" Fluttershy gasped and turned around at the sound of Discord's voice. She stared up at him as he stood in the entryway of her chamber. She swallowed the lump in her throat and quickly sat up, smoothing the skirts to the yellow and blue dress that she wore, one of the many costumes he had given her. "I…I am not prepared to sing, if that is what you have come for," she said, trying to sound angry, lifting her chin and looking stubborn. Discord fought the grin that was trying to break free from looking upon her expression. "I have not come here to ask you to sing," he explained. Fluttershy stared him, unsure what to say next. What was it that he wanted then? The anger on her face disappeared, now replaced by confusion, which Discord could not help but smile a little at. She frowned when she noticed his smile and rose to her hooves, squaring her shoulders and meeting his gaze. "You may see yourself as lord and master of this labyrinth monsieur…but this is my room, therefore I demand that you tell me what business you have and then be gone." Discord stared at her, somewhat flabbergasted at her words. Then, remembering the reasons as to why he had come in the first place, he too stood straighter and folded his paw and claw behind his back. "I…I have come to…to…" why was this so hard? Fluttershy folded her arms across her chest, waiting for him to finish whatever it was that he was having great difficulty with saying. He grimaced at her expression and finally came out with it. "I've come to apologize." There, he'd said it. Fluttershy stared at him. That was the last thing she had been expecting. "I…I beg your pardon?" Discord groaned. "Fine, I'll say it again if that will suit you, I apologize for the way I treated you…for the way I have been treating you…" he whispered, his gaze falling to his hooves. Fluttershy stared at the creature who stood before her, tall, thin, dressed in black, his white mask giving off a persona that was ice cold. Yet she knew he meant every word. "The truth is…music has been the only thing that has given me joy in this life," he continued, his gaze never leaving the ground. "And when I heard your voice…" he paused and looked up at her, his amber eyes catching hers. "I meant it…and I still mean it, your voice is unlike anything…it's…it is exquisite," he sighed, not being able to think of better words for such a beautiful instrument. Fluttershy blushed at his words, her own eyes falling to the floor this time. "And when I heard you sing that night…I just…you have no idea what this opera means to me," he rushed. "I have been working on this opera for most of my adult life, and…and when I heard you sing, I simply…I have never felt more inspired…" he whispered, his eyes burning as they gazed upon her. Fluttershy felt the heat rise in her cheeks, but she could not look at him, she was afraid that if she did, she may melt where she stood. "I know I have not been the easiest of people to get along with," he grumbled, "and I did warn you that I would be hard…but you were not expecting a slave-driver, I'm sure." She lifted her eyes then, feeling his genuine regret. "And…while I want this opera performed more than anything, with you in the role of Aminta…I do not want to be your task-master." Fluttershy opened her mouth to protest, but Discord raised his paw to silence her. "I do however want to be your tutor…and a proper tutor at that, someone who cares about his protégée…and not simply the music she is singing." There, he had said his peace. He wasn't expecting anything from her, and he wasn't saying he would stop being strict, but he was hoping that she would still sing for him. The idea of her not singing again, the idea of him not being able to hear her angelic voice…it was more than he could bear! Fluttershy nodded her head slowly, looking down quickly so that he would not be able to see the blush on her cheeks. "Thank you…" she whispered. There was a long pause before she realized he was waiting breathlessly to hear whether she would still sing for him. "Yes, I would like to continue learning with you, monsieur." After all, what choice did she have? It was still her only key to freedom. Discord wanted to smile and shout to the heavens, but he contained himself and gave a small bow. "Thank you, mademoiselle," he said simply. "And…please, call me Discord." Where had that come from? Discord couldn't believe what he just said and imagined what an idiot he must have sounded like, however all those thoughts drifted away as Fluttershy whispered his name for the first time to his ears. "Discord…you are most welcome, Discord." Discord gave another bow, turning to leave, but stopping quickly. "How is your throat feeling?" he asked, his eyes lit with concern. Fluttershy couldn't help but smile a little. "It is getting better, thank you," she whispered. Discord was glad to hear it, but his concern was still etched across his features. "Rarity was right…and I'm sorry I pushed you despite it. Tomorrow you continue resting your voice. If you're feeling up to singing the day after, then we shall begin again." Fluttershy smiled and thanked him again. It was hard to believe…but it did seem that he truly had changed! "You're very welcome mademoiselle," he replied, and then turned to go again. "Fluttershy!" she called out. Discord who was standing in the shadowed entryway emerged back inside, like an animal of prey rising from the shadows. Fluttershy had to grip the bed post in order to keep her balance from the seductive sight. "It's only right, I think," she quickly explained. "That if I am permitted to call you Discord…then I wish for you to call me by my name." "Fluttershy," he practically purred, and she tightened her grip on the bed post. "Goodnight, Fluttershy," he whispered, and then without any warning, he leaned in and took her hoof, raising it to his lips and kissing the it ever so softly. A sharp current of electricity streaked throughout her body. "Goodnight…Discord," she whispered, watching him turn and leave her alone in her chamber, with nothing but the strange feelings that scorched through her heart to keep her company. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blueblood tapped his cane impatiently against his boot as he sat and waited for Crafty Crate to organize himself in his tiny cold office. It had been one week since their last encounter in the ally near Crafty Crates' building. One week since Blueblood cut a deal with the private investigator to inform him of everything he was seeking out for Madame Luna. And he was beginning to lose his patience… Things were getting complicated with the police keeping Time Turner behind bars. Time Turner was proving to be an expensive chore; Blueblood had not expected a whole month to go by without word from Fluttershy. And the police themselves wanted to be rid of the stallion; twice he had to convince them not to send him to the nearest asylum, and hold him just a little longer. When he learned that Madame Luna was seeking the aid of a private investigator, Blueblood felt that at last an answer to his prayers was coming! But now he was having serious doubts as Crafty Crate clumsily cleared his desk from the piles of papers and cigarette butts that littered it. "I beg your pardon monsieur, I was not expecting you…" he quickly explained, hurrying as best he could. Blueblood gave an aggravated sigh. "Do you have any information at all, monsieur? I am a busy stallion and-" "Oh! Oh I do monsieur! Information that you will take great pleasure in, I believe!" Blueblood eyed the private investigator, feeling serious doubt, but waving his hoof at the stallion. "Have at it then." Crafty Crate straightened the tie at his neck and folded his hooves on the desk before proceeding. "I am not sure if you are aware monsieur, the connections that Time Turner and his daughter have in society." Blueblood rolled his eyes at this. "What sort of connections do a violinist and a costume mare have?" "Well, very large ones, monsieur," Crafty Crate grinned, before taking one of the papers he had shuffled through and passing it towards the Prince. "This is the birth certificate of the one and only daughter of the Marquis Filthy Rich." Blueblood eyed the piece of paper and handed it back to Crafty Crate. "And this means…?" "Well, you see, nearly twenty-two years ago the Marquis Filthy Rich's daughter was discovered to be in a state of marriage that was most disagreeable." Blueblood waved his hoof in an irritated manner, urging Crafty Crate to continue. He hated dramatics. "Apparently, although no one entirely knows how, the mare met a young Sweetlin immigrant by the name of Time Turner!" Blueblood practically fell out of his chair. He stared at Crafty Crate, the expression on his face both shocked and disbelieving. "What are you saying?" Crafty Crate grinned. "That the filly produced from the disagreeable marriage…is the granddaughter of the Marquis Filthy Rich." Blueblood was in total shock. Fluttershy, the costume mare, the country bumpkin…had noble blood running through her veins? "Tell me more," he urged, leaning forward and eating up every piece of information. "Well," Crafty Crate continued, putting on some spectacles and leafing through some more notes. "As you can imagine, the marriage was never accepted by the family and the mare was shunned from both them and society. Yet she lived quite happily with the stallion known as Time Turner on a country farm where they had their first and only filly, a daughter, named Fluttershy." Blueblood nodded his head. "You have proof that this was the exact stallion?" "I made some inquiries with the household of the Marquis Flithy Rich, as well as traveled to the farming village that Time Turner and his family lived," his expression changed to one of sadness. "Quite tragic actually; while Time Turner and his bride lived contently with their daughter, the Marquis and his family never spoke to her again, shunning her completely, and after the poor mare died five years ago, the Marquis seized the land that Time Turner lived on and sold it, thus forcing the violinist and his daughter off the property." Blueblood could care less about this. "Yes, yes, extremely tragic," he groaned sarcastically. "But tell me about the granddaughter's connections to the Marquis? Was her mother disinherited from the family?" Crafty Crate shook his head. "Most the villagers believed so, but from a conversation I had with the Marquis' household, apparently not! While the mare was shunned for marrying Time Turner, the Marquis never changed his will! She was promised a hefty allowance after the death of her father, and that allowance would be passed on to any children that she may have." Blueblood stared at Crafty Crate with wide eyes. Fluttershy was rich. She had a fortune waiting for her…and from the sound of things, the mare was not even aware of it. "What of the Marquis?" Blueblood asked, leaning against Crafty Crates desk, desperate to learn all that he could. "Is the stallion in good health? I thought I heard rumors that he had fallen ill…" Crafty Crate sighed. "Sad, but true. The household informed me that the Marquis is in a bed ridden state. As you can guess, he is a very old stallion, with extremely poor health and it is believed he will not last past this upcoming winter." "Utter tragedy," Blueblood whispered, images of the Marquis' money appearing before him. "And that's not all!" Blueblood awoke from his day dream and stared at Crafty Crate like a starving stallion. "Tell me…" "Well, this granddaughter of the Marquis is the only living relative. The Marquis had three children, two sons and a daughter. I learned that the two sons had died years ago; one was in the army and died in battle while the other…well, sad to say, he had a bit of a gambling problem, and he was shot when caught cheating at cards," he sighed. "The poor wife of the Marquis killed herself by slicing her wrists open after learning that her eldest son was dead. And the Marquis has no other living relatives. So, if it is as the household has told me and the will has not be changed…not only does this Fluttershy receive her mother's fortune…but also the land and all the titles that go with it upon the Marquis' death." Blueblood was like a dog, salivating for a beef bone. Fluttershy was rich; she was nobility; she was an heiress. …And she was totally unaware of it. "Monsieur?" Blueblood awoke from his thoughts and looked at Crafty Crate with wild eyes. "Have you told Madame Luna any of this?" Crafty Crate shook his head. "I have not seen her yet, but I am expecting her at some point today. Shall I tell her the same news?" "NO!" Blueblood barked, before quickly calming himself, running a hoof through his blonde hair and fixing his jacket. "No…in fact, tell her nothing. Simply explain to her that you were unable to learn anything from the tip that she gave you but that you will continue trying." Crafty Crate nodded his head, watching the Prince intently as he rose to his hooves and began to pace across the small office. Fluttershy was an heiress! A single mare of great fortune! Blueblood knew that one day he'd have to marry in order to create an heir for his own title, but he had resorted to waiting another five years before taking such steps. Yet now…now the lovely Mademoiselle Fluttershy had landed on his lap with her great fortune; and to think he was only interested in bedding her! No, now Fluttershy proved to be a much "worthier" cause for discovery. He had to find her before she learned about her fortune, before her grandfather died! By marrying her, he, being her husband, would come into full rights for the land, title, and all that went with it. And, he could use some of that money; his own gambling debts were climbing higher and higher, and the Opera business as of late was proving to be more of a headache. But with Fluttershy as his wife…it was the beginning to a life of endless possibilities! He just had to figure out what to do with the old stallion…perhaps he could still serve his purpose as an object for blackmail? "Monsieur?" Crafty Crate asked nervously, not sure if it was wise to interrupt the pensiveness of the Prince. "Have you learned anything else?" Blueblood asked. Crafty Crate shook his head. "Not yet monsieur, but soon! I understand that Monsieur Time Turner and his daughter were last seen at the Maris Opera House-" "Forget the old stallion," Blueblood ordered. "In fact, don't waste any more of your time in this investigation on him…I want you to spend all of your time, morning, noon, and night, on learning the whereabouts of his charming daughter." Crafty Crate opened his mouth, prepared to protest, but remembered the handsome payment the Prince had offered him and remained silent. "What shall I tell Madame Luna?" "Anything, make-up whatever you want," Blueblood grumbled, waving his hoof in a dismissive manner. "But find me that mare…and I promise you Crafty Crate, I will make it very worth your while." Blueblood left the stone building of the private investigator, the look on his face extremely pleasant and satisfied. He climbed into his carriage, whistling a jolly tune, much to the surprise of his driver. "Home, monsieur?" the driver asked. Blueblood grinned. "No my good stallion, we have some shopping to do!" Blueblood said with good humor. "I have a wedding to plan…"