Clarity
Blueblood glared at the article before him, his eyes filled with hateful spite. He had only just arrived at the Maris Opera House, his face a harsh color of red, a newspaper in his hooves. It came as quite a shock to him when he awoke that morning to see Don Juan Triumphant in the headlines. He stormed into the stallionagers' office and began destallionding answers for whose idea it was to say anything to the papers. Now, he was gazing down at the original article that Flam had received the day before, as well as the note that came with it. With a growl, he took his cigar and stabbed the burnt end into the paper. He glanced up at the two stallionagers, both of who were looking rather nervous. "And why was I not informed of this news yesterday?" he inquired.
Flim and Flam glanced at one another, and then back at the Prince, before erupting into a din of excuses.
Blueblood groaned and lifted his hoof to silence them; he could feel a headache coming on. "This new turn of events does change our plans somewhat," he muttered.
Flam nodded his head in agreement. "We must quickly come up with a plan to capture that fiend! We have only a week until opening night! Surely he will be there then, we simply must find a way to lure him–"
"We have the bait," Blueblood muttered, gazing at the article he held in his hooves. "We simply need the trap."
Flim's brow furrowed at the Prince's words. "You mean his opera, monsieur?"
Blueblood shook his head. "No…I mean Fluttershy."
Both stallionagers stared at the Prince with wide eyes and sudden realization. "Of course…she was chosen by the Phantom to play the lead," Flim whispered.
"And she was the only detail mentioned in the article," Flam added.
Blueblood nodded his head. "Yes, Fluttershy is the link in all this. The Phantom is clearly obsessed with her," he growled, his hoof lifting to rub his neck. "Not to mention extremely possessive; he is most eager to see his so-called masterpiece performed with her singing the lead…perhaps he rushed the perforstallionce date, out of fear that she will flee, or out of fear that we will catch on to him…but whatever the reason, mark my words, he will be present at that perforstallionce."
Flam quickly nodded in agreement. "Yes, we simply need a trap as you say!"
"What of the police?" Flim inquired, looking hopeful.
Blueblood grunted, and immediately Flim's hopes melted. "The police remain skeptical," he muttered with disgust. "While all the evidence obviously points to the truth that the Phantom is indeed a madstallion living within these walls, they remain unconvinced. They need more…evidence."
Flam threw his hooves up into the air. "Good God! What sort of evidence? A dead body?"
Blueblood quickly concealed his sinister grin at the younger stallionager's words. "We shall simply have to keep our eyes open for ideas, but have no fear gentlecolts…I am most determined to see his end."
Both stallionagers could not help but tremble at the cold way the Prince spoke, however, that dreaded feeling was quickly replaced by another, and a far more dreadful feeling...
"WHAT THE HELL IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" Celestia shrieked, throwing the door to the office open.
"Signora? What is the matter? What–"
"You shut-up!" she hissed, pointing her hoof in Flam's face. "AND EXPLAIN WHY THAT LITTLE BITCH HAS MY DRESSING ROOM!"
Flim and Flam went white at her words. They attempted to speak, but rather than giving her explanations, a series of nervous and indistinguishable sounds came out of their mouths. Blueblood groaned as Celestia began to shriek once more, his head pounding now. "It's quite obvious, signora," he muttered. "Mademoiselle Fluttershy is the star now…therefore it's her dressing room."
Both Flim and Flam looked ready to dive behind a desk to avoid Celestia's explosion. Indeed, the Prima Donna looked shocked from the simple, matter-of-fact way that the Prince had replied. But the pale shock on her face slowly changed to a deep angry red, and she opened her mouth, a scream rising in her throat, her eyes shooting daggers of fury at the hoofsome blonde noblecolt who stood a few Hooves away.
Both managers took cover.
"Please don't," Blueblood cut in, a weary and annoyed sigh escaping his lips, as he reached out and placed one hoof on Celestia's pouting lips. "I am not having the best of mornings, and I do not think I can tolerate another outburst."
A great gasp escaped from the stallionagers and the diva. "How dare you–"
Blueblood cut her off once more. "My dear, please…why are we arguing this point? What possible threat can you throw at me?"
Celestia was turning a deep shade of red, more from fury than embarrassment. "I'll leave!" she hissed. She turned her eyes on the frightened stallionagers who had gone a shade paler at her words. "I'll leave this wretched piss hole, and go to Vienna!"
"Fine," Blueblood sighed, ignoring the blank stare the stallionagers were giving him at his words. "You'd best be on your way, signora, there is probably a train leaving for Vienna within the hour."
Celestia was at a complete loss of words. She watched with venomous eyes as Blueblood once again sat down in his chair, pulling a new cigar from the inside of his coat, and lighting it. "I mean it…" she repeated, although the confidence in her voice was slowly disappearing.
Blueblood took one long puff on his cigar before exhaling the smoke in one long steady stream. "Of course you do, my dear," he whispered, his eyes locking with hers.
It was an empty threat; they both knew it. But now Celestia had a new challenge; either stay and live in the shadows of a new rising star, or leave with her pride, but face the reality of being penniless.
She didn't have control anymore; Blueblood was making that abundantly clear.
"Damn you," she hissed at him, her eyes filled with humiliation and hatred. "Damn you to hell!"
Blueblood exhaled again and smiled. "After you, signora."
She swore in Italian before turning on her heel and exiting the office, the door banging loudly in her wake. Both Flim and Flam, who had been watching the whole scene in silence, let out a long sigh filled with both relief and anxiety. "Monsieur, I…I can't believe…I can't believe that you almost–"
"Shut up," Blueblood muttered. "If you didn't spoil her in the first place this would never have been a problem!" He rose from his chair and grabbed his belongings. "La Celestia will no longer be threatening us," he grumbled as he pulled on his coat. "But she is not our concern; we must focus all our attention on how to capture that monster!"
The stallionagers glanced at one another, both shivering slightly at the cold sinister tone of the Prince's voice. "Quite right," Flim agreed, although the confidence in his voice was lacking.
"Yes, absolutely," Flam quickly replied, although he too looked doubtful.
"Excellent," Blueblood muttered. "I will speak with you both later, but right now, I need to…look into something." Without another word, Blueblood left the office and headed directly to the auditorium, his steps quick and his jaw clenched.
Madame Luna and her dancers were warming up on stage, preparing to rehearse a dance scene from Act III. Several chorus members were talking with a few orchestra members, and Blueblood spotted the old stallion who he was looking for.
"Monsieur!" he called out, a charming smile now creasing his hoofsome features.
Time Turner turned to the voice and his own features brightened with a warm welcoming smile. "Oh! Monsieur Prince! So good to see you today!" he warmly greeted, before doing a quick polite bow.
Blueblood grinned and shook his head. "Monsieur Time Turner, please…I have told you before, call me Blueblood."
Time Turner grinned and nodded his head. "Thank you monsieur–Blueblood," he quickly corrected. "I must confess, we were worried when we did not see you yesterday. We feared that perhaps something was amiss."
Blueblood's smile momentarily vanished as he remembered how he spent the whole day recovering from his attack and attempting to have the police see reason. "Yes, well…I had some urgent business matters that needed attending. But I am glad to be back," he added, his eyes surveying the rest of the large room, hoping to find a particular brunette. "You said, 'we were worried', monsieur…" Blueblood added, his eyes sliding back to the old stallion.
"Oh! Yes, I meant both myself and my daughter." Inwardly, Time Turner was frowning. Fluttershy had not shown any concern, or interest for that matter, on the Prince's whereabouts the day before. He shook his head, wishing that Fluttershy would not be so doubtful as to the Prince's intentions. She was far too suspicious for her own good; perhaps it was those books her mother read to her? Yes, there were some wealthy gentlemen who took advantage of young ladies, especially young ladies below their station, but the Prince seemed so different! His feelings seemed quite genuine and sincere, and if he meant harm, why had he gone out of his way to help them? No…the Prince was a good stallion, Time Turner was convinced of this. And he genuinely seemed to hold Fluttershy in high esteem, even in deep affection.
Time Turner sighed. He was an old stallion and was not sure how many more years he had left. He wanted to know that Fluttershy would be taken care of, that she would be loved and cherished and have every comfort available. Perhaps with time, she would see that the Prince was not this horrible beast she seemed convinced to believe him to be. But who knew how long that would take; best that he help the situation in any way that he could. "Both my daughter and myself were terribly worried for you," he lied again.
Blueblood studied the old stallion carefully. Was he being lied to? No, that was impossible. Fluttershy was simply modest and humble, believing it to be impossible that a stallion of Blueblood's birth, education, and power, could possibly take any interest in a lowly farm mare. She simply needed more convincing; but it was impossible to comprehend that she did not find him attractive. After all…he was, well…him.
"I must confess, I had hoped to speak with both you and your daughter today…but I can not see her anywhere," he murmured, glancing once more about the auditorium and then back at the old stallion.
"Oh, she is not well," Time Turner explained. "She is home, resting, but will be back at rehearsals tomorrow."
"Not well?" Blueblood asked, through slightly clenched teeth. Those stupid idiots who called themselves managers forgot to mention that one detail. "Its not serious I hope…"
"Oh no!" Time Turner quickly defended. "She is a silly mare, brought it on herself, I think," he muttered. "Barely ate anything yesterday, and after long hours of singing and being on stage, she fainted. Oh she is alright now, let me assure you," Time Turner added, after noticing the Prince's slight alarm. "I think it is simply nerves–she's never sung on stage before, and now with the news of the opera opening in a week…"
"Yes," Blueblood added, his teeth grinding once more. "I can understand the stress she is feeling. And I am glad to hear that she does not suffer from any illness other than heightened nerves," he turned his attention back to the old stallion once more. "It would be most disappointing, as I was hoping that perhaps both Fluttershy and yourself would be my guests tomorrow evening for dinner."
Time Turner's eyes widened with surprise. "Oh monsieur–Blueblood, I…I don't know what to say…what an honor–"
"Please monsieur," Blueblood smiled. "The honor is entirely mine." Time Turner smiled warmly back, but then it quickly disappeared, something to which Blueblood took immediate notice. "What is wrong?" he asked, his tone somewhat demanding.
"Oh it is only…sadly," the old stallion sighed, "while I am most thankful for the invitation, I must sadly decline. You see, I am desperately trying to catch up with the rest of the orchestra with learning this opera–they have had over a month to practice where I have had only a few days. And now that it is being performed in a week–"
"I understand," Blueblood muttered, his attempt at hiding his disappointment, failing.
"Oh please, do not take offense," Time Turner pleaded, seeing the displeasure in the Prince's eyes. "And do not feel you need to change your plans. I am simply saying that, sadly, I must decline, but my daughter on the other hoof…"
Blueblood went tense for a moment. Was the old stallion that naïve when it came to how things worked in society? No father would ever allow a young single mare to be left alone with another gentlecolt, no matter how wealthy he was. But perhaps this simply showed that the old stallion truly trusted him, that he had the old stallion's loyalty–something, which would come in hoofy, should Fluttershy need…convincing…to accept his marriage proposal. "Do you think Fluttershy will accept the invitation?" he calmly asked.
Time Turner only too eagerly nodded his head. "Oh she will be delighted!"
Blueblood cocked one golden eyebrow. "She will be fully recovered?"
Time Turner smiled and nodded his head. "She plans to return to rehearsals tomorrow, I'm sure she will be well enough to also attend dinner."
Blueblood smiled at this, but his brow furrowed with confusion. "Surely she is very busy with trying to learn everything before opening night–"
"Oh no," Time Turner interrupted. "She knows all the songs by heart."
Blueblood froze at these words. "S-s-she knows e-everything by heart?" he whispered. "All the music…e-everything? After only a few days of rehearsal?"
Time Turner nodded his head proudly. "Amazing, really. She does have a gift for quickly learning music, but even I was impressed with how swiftly she memorized her songs and notes."
"Indeed," Blueblood whispered. Yet another piece to this puzzle involving the Phantom of the Opera, and it was evolving into a picture that the Prince did not like one bit.
"Monsieur Time Turner!" Madam Octavia bellowed from the orchestra pit. "We would like to rehearse now! And seeing as we only have a week…" the conductor muttered with irritation.
"Forgive me," Time Turner murmured to the Prince.
"Not at all," Blueblood smiled at the old stallion, once again regaining his calm cool composure. "Please give your daughter my best wishes for her improving health, as well as my invitation. I shall meet her here, after rehearsal, and I will gladly bring her home."
Time Turner smiled and bowed his head once more, ignoring the frustrated cries of the conductor. "Thank you Blueblood…it is a great honor and pleasure."
Blueblood smiled and bowed his own head, watching as the old stallion turned in the direction of the pit. He turned then to the stage, not surprised to see the grim face of the dance mistress staring back at him. With a polite smile, Blueblood bowed his head to her, a gesture that only deepened her scowl.
"Madame Luna? If your dancers are ready?" Octavia asked from the pit.
The dance mistress nodded her head and quickly clapped her hooves. Several mares immediately took their places on stage, while a few could be heard giggling off to the side. Frowning, the mare crossed the stage in several great strides and clapped her hooves again, the sound reverberating off the walls like thunder. Blueblood turned to see where the mare's gaze was directed, and caught the glimpse of several dance mares huddled around a stagehoof.
The sudden thunderous clap awoke them from their trance, and they quickly turned to take their places on stage with the others. Madame Luna glared at the stagehoof, who shrank slightly beneath her cold stare, before turning and nodding her head once more at the conductor. The music rose, and the mares immediately fell into the trained steps of their dance.
Normally the Prince would have thought nothing of the scene that he had just witnessed; it was not that uncommon to see the stagehooves attempting to lure the dance mares into the shadows, but this particular stagehoof caused the Prince to pause. In truth, it was the object that the stallion was holding that had captured Blueblood's interest.
Everypony else was distracted by the dancer's rehearsal, that no one noticed Blueblood approaching the stagehoof. "Excuse me…"
The stallion gasped and whirled around to see the Prince tower over him. The stagehoof was short, pudgy, and had a scraggly graying beard on his pudgy face. He also smelled like somepony who slept in his own fluids, a stench that caused Blueblood to gag somewhat. But he quickly regained his composure and kept his emerald gaze locked on the stallion's plump face. "Where did you get that?" he pointed at the stallion's hooves.
"I didn't do no harm! I didn't touch one of those mares! I'm just doin' me job!"
Blueblood rolled his eyes at the stallion's defensive pleas. "I'm not accusing you of anything," he muttered. "I just want to know where you got…that."
The stagehoof looked down at the object that he held in his hooves.
It was a noose. And not just any noose…one that looked oddly familiar to the one Blueblood had examined at the police station.
"I didn't do nothin', I was just doin' as Donkey did before he disappeared."
Blueblood's brow furrowed with confusion. "Donkey?"
The stagehoof nodded his head. "Used to be chief stagehoof, till he was fired all those months ago. No one's seen him since…" he leaned in and whispered, as if sharing a big secret. "Some think the Phantom got him!"
Blueblood cocked a brow at these words. "Do they? And what did you mean by 'doing what he did'?"
The stagehoof glanced upward and then looked all around him before speaking. "Cranky Doodle Donkey told stories about…about the Phantom," he whispered. "Now that he's gone, I feel it's my duty to continue them."
Blueblood nodded his head. "And that?" he indicated at the noose the stallion held. "A prop to aid your storytelling?"
The stallion looked down at the noose once more before glancing around again. "Ain't no prop…it's real."
Blueblood frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I've been working at this theater for nearly 25 years," the stallion stated proudly. "And I've seen many a thing that can't be explained. But none so strange as…well…" he looked around again, the nervousness on his face growing more and more.
"Go on," Blueblood urged, more anxious than irritated.
"W-w-well," the stallion continued, swallowing the nervous lump that was in his throat. "Once there was this stallion by the name of Snowflake…don't remember too much about him, a big fella, but not much going on in the noggin, the sort that just asked for trouble. Always drinking when he shouldn't have been…chasing anything that wore a skirt…" the stallion sighed and shook his head sadly. "Phantom warned him…told him to start doin' his duties or else. But stupid Snowflake…he didn't believe in the Phantom, thought him nothin' but a ghost story…well, he don't think that now, wherever he be."
Blueblood narrowed his eyes. "What do you mean?"
The stallion looked surprised at the Prince's question. "Snowflake was warned, but ignored the warnings! Kept on doin' as he did, poor soul."
Blueblood groaned as the stagehoof bowed his head as if in prayer. "What happened to him?" he hissed. "Did the Phantom kill him? Tell me!"
The pudgy stagehoof jumped at the Prince's voice. "It w-w-was during a perforstallionce of Faust–Snowflake was up there," he pointed at the catwalk high above. "The dancers were dancing, no one saw it coming until…" he shivered at the memory. "His body fell…b-but before it hit the stage, it stopped…h-he was hangin' you see…but he never screamed! H-he was already dead!"
Blueblood eyed the stallion suspiciously. "You saw this?"
The stagehoof nodded his head. "I…I saw his body hangin' from off stage…Doodle claimed h-he saw the Phantom throw him."
"And the police? Were they summoned?" he anxiously asked.
The stagehoof nodded his head. "Snowflake reeked with alcohol, police said it was an accident, that he was so drunk he fell off the catwalk himself, and his neck got caught in the ropes."
Blueblood wondered if Silverstar was chief inspector then. He doubted it, but he was beginning to see where the stallion's incompetence had come from.
He glanced at the noose once more, before grabbing it out of the stallion's hooves. Just like the other one, it was made of fine smooth threads. "He was hung with this?"
The stagehoof shook his head. "No…t-that was what killed him. The Phantom strangles his victims with it. Doodle called it the 'punjab lasso'; s-said it was from Persia, how he knew that I don't know, b-b-but he said he s-saw the Phantom strangle Snowflake with it, and then wrapped the ropes from several sandbags around his neck, before throwing him over!"
Persian. Just like the expensive curtains he had in his own town house.
Why or how the Phantom got his hooves on threads like these made no sense, but every cold-blooded murderer had a "signature" of some kind. Apparently the Phantom preferred Middle Eastern thread for his nooses than mere rope.
"How did you get your hooves on this?"
The stallion looked around again, the nervousness extremely apparent now. "Doodle got it somehow…I…I don't know how exactly…b-b-but he claimed to have several things of the Phantom's. I knew w-where he kept them, s-so after he disappeared, I felt it was me duty to continue his stories…and warn others about the Phantom."
Blueblood eyed the noose one last time before looking at the short pudgy stagehoof. "I'll give you 100 franks for it."
The stallion gasped. "100 franks?"
"Sold," Blueblood muttered, tossing the money at the stagehoof without a second thought. However, before he turned to leave, a new question arose in his mind. "You said you've been working here for nearly 25 years…?"
The stagehoof reluctantly looked away from his money. "Me and Doodle have been here the longest…" he paused, before adding, "well, guess it's just me now…"
Blueblood ignored the stallion's sad recollections. "When you joined the company, was the Phantom already sending notes?"
The stallion opened his mouth to reply, but stopped, a pensive look creasing his grizzled features. "You know…when I think about it…I don't remember hearing anything about the Phantom or any notes until…well…at least a few years later?"
"Interesting," Blueblood whispered. "Thank you for your time, and for the story."
The stallion watched as Blueblood walked away. "Here now…w-what are you goin' do with that?"
Blueblood heard the stallion's question, but didn't bother to turn around and answer him. He knew exactly what he was going to do. "Your move, Monsieur Phantom."
Fluttershy sighed as she gazed out her window, watching several soft flakes fall from the sky. A cold winter breeze blew in through the opened window, but she didn't care. Her heart was longing for him, singing to him, praying that perhaps he would feel her, just as she had felt his presence the other day.
Fluttershy had protested when her father told her to stay home and rest. He assumed it was because she wanted to prove to everyone that she was capable of singing the lead, as well as handle all the pressure. But that wasn't it at all; yesterday, in that dressing room, something happened. For the first time since her return to the Maris Opera House…she had felt him.
She spent so many moments wondering if Discord knew she was there, wondering if he was watching her, wondering if he could hear her sing, and if so, what he was thinking. Was he pleased? Disappointed? Did he even care?
But yesterday, when she was left alone in that dressing room…something happened. Out of nowhere, the song that they had created, the love song between Don Juan and Aminta, rose up in her throat and escaped her lips. As if by some mysterious spell, she could hear his voice singing back to her, singing Don Juan's part…and while she knew it sounded crazy…she swore she saw him…in the mirror…
"I don't know what to think anymore…" she sighed unhappily. A part of her wanted to hate him, to despise him, to simply forget him and all that they had shared, to focus entirely on the horrid things he had said and accept that as the simple truth.
But the other part of her, the part of her which was louder and stronger, told her that this was all wrong, that the words he had said and the thoughts she were having…were not true. She momentarily closed her eyes as she remembered the song…
"…Say you love me?" she softly whispered. Was she mad? She could have sworn she heard his beautiful voice respond…
"Mademoiselle! Come away from there, you'll catch your death!"
Fluttershy turned to see Cherry Jubilee hurry into the room and quickly rush over to shut the window. One last blast of cold air hit her face as the window closed with a thud. With a deep sigh, Fluttershy prepared herself for the pretty maid's lecture.
"Mademoiselle, you should be in bed, resting! I have strict orders from your father to make sure you get plenty of rest, and that you eat every last bit of your supper," the maid ordered, pulling the tray of food that she carried over to Fluttershy's bedside.
Fluttershy said nothing, she simply eyed the food with disdain, however she was in no mood to argue, and after all, the mare was simply following orders and doing what she thought was right…even if she did speak in a patronizing tone; Cherry Jubilee couldn't have been much older than her.
"Thank you," Fluttershy murmured, deciding that the soup on her tray was the safest option.
Cherry Jubilee smiled and did a little curtsy, before turning to leave…but then paused when she reached the door. "Begging your pardon, mademoiselle, but…may I ask you something?"
Fluttershy could not hide her surprise at the young mare's question. She had not had the opportunity to truly speak to Cherry Jubilee, at least not on a level where one got to know the other. "Yes, of course," she smiled politely, wondering what was on the mare's mind.
"Well…I know it's none of my business…" the maid began, her face turning pink with each word. "But…but I was just wondering…well…" she could not contain her giggles anymore, and they erupted in a mighty shower. "Are you and the Prince engaged?"
Fluttershy began choking on her soup. "W-w-w-what?" she coughed.
Cherry Jubilee stopped giggling and quickly rushed over to pat Fluttershy's back. "Oh dear, did I ruin the surprise? I'll never forgive myself if I have," she murmured with worry.
Fluttershy shook her head, her coughs now under control. "No…no…you ruined nothing, please…" she lifted her hoof to stop the young maid from pounding her back. "W-what made you think w-w-we were engaged?"
It was now Cherry Jubilee who looked puzzled. "Why, he seems to frequently call on you, and last night…well, the other night he was talking to your father after you had gone to bed, so…well…I had assumed…"
Fluttershy's eyes widened at these words. Was it possible? Had Blueblood discussed the possibilities of marrying her with her father…behind her back? How could her father do such a thing without telling her!
But she quickly shook her head, telling herself it was a simple misunderstanding. Why on earth would the Prince wish to marry her? She had no money, no connections, no titles to her name; yet he did always seem persistent. Good God, what if her father was right, that somehow, the Prince did…love her?
She shook her head at this notion; it was not that she believed people could not fall in love with others above and below their station, after all, her mother, the daughter of a wealthy Prench aristocrat, had married her pauper father. It was simply that she was unsure if the Prince could love someone that way. True, he had shown tenderness and kindness…but Fluttershy could not shake this feeling that he had ulterior motives.
"Mademoiselle?"
Fluttershy shook her head, realizing that Cherry Jubilee was awaiting an answer. "No, we are not engaged, he is simply…being charitable to us."
The maid frowned at this, but chose not to say anything further on the subject. "I'll come back later to collect your tray," she murmured with a curtsy, before turning and leaving Fluttershy alone in the room.
She wasn't a mare with high social connections, but Fluttershy was beginning to realize just how scandalous it must seem to have Blueblood's recurring presence practically every evening. "This is all my fault," she groaned, regretting now her acceptance for taking his flat. "No wonder they're whispering things at the opera house. I must look like his…his…" she couldn't finish the words. No, what she needed to do was to get out of that place, she and her father needed to find a place of their own and soon. But was it too late? Had the gossip gone too far? No one would ever think ill of the Prince; after all, it was not unusual for men of his…kind…to have mistresses.
Fluttershy's stomach churned at the very thought.
She pushed the food away, her appetite now completely gone, and pulled the blankets up around her. This was not how she wanted to live her dream, this was not how she wanted her opera to be. It sickened her to hear the rumors that she was bedding the Prince, and even the managers, to have the part. Ponies were more afraid of angering the Phantom, than paying any attention to whether she was a decent singer. She wanted to play this role because Discord had, in a sense, written it for her, and because she had made it her own.
But it didn't seem to matter anymore. She felt wretched, vile, and disgusting.
With a sad sigh, she laid her head down, and prayed for a dreamless sleep to take her far away.
Her prayers were in vain, for she was dreaming.
"Fluttershy…"
His voice. It was Discord's voice, haunting her once more. Why? Why was she being tortured like this?
"Fluttershy…"
She looked around herself, noticing that nothing had changed about the surroundings in her dream. She was in her room, only it was very dark, and there was a distinct chill. Funny, she didn't recall ever feeling cold in her dreams before…
What sort of dream was this? She continued hearing him call out her name, but he was nowhere to be seen. Had he truly become the Opera Ghost in this dream? She wrapped the blanket about her shoulders, hugging the fabric to her body to block out the cold. It seemed to be coming from her window…
"I thought Cherry Jubilee had closed it?" she whispered to herself. But this was a dream, she reminded herself, and anything was possible in dreams. In her dream, the window was once again open, blowing a crisp cold wind into her room.
"Fluttershy…"
"Discord?" Fluttershy froze when she heard his voice once more. Only this time, it didn't seem to be coming from across the plains of time…but rather…from her window.
She sat fully up, her bare Hooves just barely touching the carpeted floor. He sounded so close…as if he were just beyond the curtains. "Discord?" she whispered again, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Are…are you here?"
Suddenly, the curtains flew open, and a great stream of snowflakes burst into the room, like tens of thousands of butterflies having hatched from their cocoons. A great stream of moonlight flowed through the open window, piercing the darkness of the room and illuminating it in a silver glow.
But nothing was more breathtaking in that moment than the stallion who stood beside the curtains, the moonlight illuminating his masked face, while the shadows continued to swallow his body. How strange, she thought. Her dream Discord wore a different mask, a black one that covered both sides of his face. The mask itself was slightly more terrifying than the white half-mask that she knew him to wear, but Fluttershy held no fear as she gazed at him; how could she be afraid when his beautiful amber eyes burned with such passion, such warmth?
She held her breath as she watched him take a step towards her, now fully coming into the light. He was dressed simply, no cloak, no suit coat, no costume–just a white shirt, open at the neck, revealing his broad chest, black breeches, and knee-high boots.
He was her dark prince, a hero out of her gothic romances…and he had come for her.
She opened her mouth to speak to him, a part of her wanting to reach out and touch him, and a part of her reminding her silly self that this was a dream, and he was, indeed, a phantom of her imagination. However, before she could speak, before she could decide whether to go to him or whether to tell herself to wake up…he began to sing.
"Night-time sharpens, heightens each sensation…"
Fluttershy felt a shiver run down her spine at the sound of his voice, such a strange combination of baritone and tenor. Indeed, she was feeling heightened by sensations…
"Darkness stirs and wakes imagination…"
He continued singing, slowly, quietly, approaching her, his eyes locking with her own.
"Silently the senses abandon their defenses…"
Fluttershy thought her heart would stop beating as Discord held his paw out to her. Not once did she look at it, and not once did she stop to think and question what she was doing.
On instinct, she placed her small hoof in his paw, and let out a long shaky breath.
"Slowly, gently, night unfurls its splendor…" he sang, pulling her to her Hooves. "Grasp it, sense it–tremulous and tender…"
Fluttershy held her breath as she felt his claw softly touch her chin and lift her face towards his.
"Turn your face away from the garish light of day,
turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light–
and listen to the music of the night…"
He released her chin and then took both her hooves in his paw and claw, leading her into the pool of moonlight that flooded the room.
"Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!
Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!
Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar…"
Fluttershy moaned and felt her lashes flutter against her cheeks as his silken spell wove around her.
He leaned in, his lips mere inches from her ear. "And you'll live as you've never lived before…"
Fluttershy whimpered as she felt his paw stroke her face, her eyes fluttering open once more to gaze into his own.
"Softly, deftly, music shall caress you…" she gasped as she felt him move around her, his hooves sliding down from her face to her shoulders, and then slowly, agonizingly, running down the length of her arms.
"Hear it, feel it, secretly possess you…" he sang, his voice growing deeper, almost like a passionate growl, and Fluttershy whimpered and leaned back against him as she felt his arms entwine around her waist.
"Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,
in this darkness which you know you cannot fight–
the darkness of the music of the night."
Fluttershy gasped when she suddenly felt her body being whirled around, till once more, she was facing him. She looked up at him and whispered his name, before gasping once more as his strong paw and claw gripped her around the waist, and lifted her off the floor. Her hooves gripped his powerful shoulders, her eyes never leaving his as his song continued.
"Let your mind start a journey through a strange new world!
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!
Let your soul take you where you long to be!"
He held the note of the last word for so long that Fluttershy gasped when finally he caught his breath. She let out another long shaky breath as he slowly, painstakingly, lowered her back to the floor, her body on fire as she brushed his.
"Only then…can you belong to me…" his words were practically a whisper.
Fluttershy's eyes drifted shut once more as she felt him gently turn her again, so that she was leaning against him once more.
"Floating, falling, sweet intoxication! Touch me…trust me…" one paw held her hoof and lifted it up to the side of his face that was disfigured. Fluttershy whimpered as she ran her hoof over his masked cheek, wishing she could feel the skin beneath. She let out an even louder gasp when she felt his other claw brush over her thigh, before sliding up her body and running across her breasts. "Savor each sensation…" he whispered in her ear, his voice filled with passion, and his body showing his desire.
"Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in
to the power of the music that I write–
the power of the music of the night!"
Without warning, he whirled her around once more, and with a passionate groan, his mouth crushed hers. Fluttershy moaned against his lips, her mouth immediately opening and offering him entrance, her tongue eagerly welcoming his, pulling him even closer to her.
Discord kissed her back with as much passion, if not more, his arms enfolding her and pulling her off the ground and against his chest. As he kissed her, he began to twirl her around the room, the snowflakes swirling and dancing around them. He felt her joyful tears run over his cheeks; fitting, as they were mingling with his own. He could hear the happy, thankful laughter bubbling in her throat as they twirled in the snow, only to be suppressed by the intensity of the kiss which they were sharing.
He longed for more, and he could feel her body eagerly respond to his. It would be so easy, to simply fall upon her bed and to lose themselves to this overwhelming passion. He wanted to make love to her more than he had ever wanted anything in his life…
But he could hear thehoofsteps in the hallway just beyond her door, and he knew that her father would wish to see how she was. He also knew that Fluttershy believed this to be a dream, and for the moment, he would let her believe that.
He would see her again, he needed to. Everything would be put to right, and he and his angel would be reunited once more, and no one, not even the Prince himself, would part them.
She may be accepting the Prince's charity, but her kiss tonight, the passion he felt in her embrace, and the love he saw in her eyes, told him everything–her heart belonged, and remained, to her Phantom.
Reluctantly, Discord lifted his face from hers, his lips brushing across her forehead, before sweeping her up in his arms and carrying her back to the bed. Fluttershy gazed up at him as she felt him lay her down upon the sheets, and watched with aching sadness as he pulled the blankets up over her body.
He would not be joining her. But then, this was a dream, she reminded herself.
However, instead of instantly disappearing into the shadows, he lowered himself down to one knee and took her hooves in his, singing once more.
"You alone can make my song take flight…"
She watched as he pulled something from the pocket of his breeches. She could not see what it was, but she gasped as she felt it touch her hoof. He leaned down and brushed his lips once more against hers, before murmuring against them, "Help me make the music of the night…"
She watched as he slowly rose from the edge of the bed, his tenor holding the note in such a way that it sent shivers down her spine, but it also caused her eyes to grow heavy, as if he were casting some sort of sleeping spell over her with his lullaby.
He continued to hold the note, his voice growing ever softer as he slowly backed away from the bed, until his body was once more swallowed up by the shadows of the room. And just as her eyes drifted shut, so did the moonlight disappear with him.
"Fluttershy?"
Had he returned? Her eyes flew open at the sound of her name being called, but she realized quickly that it was not Discord's voice that was calling her, but that of her father's.
"Fluttershy? Are you alright?"
She looked up to see her father's worried face hovering above. "I thought I heard…singing…" he softly explained, although he knew it must sound unbelievable.
Fluttershy sat up at his words, and she stared at her father with wide eyes. "Singing?"
Time Turner nodded his head. "I know, very strange, must have been my imagination," he sighed with a shake of his head. He quickly wrapped his arms around his body as a shiver overtook him. "Awfully cold in here," he muttered.
Fluttershy looked at the window, but noticed it was shut, just as Cherry Jubilee had done earlier that evening. She knew it had been a dream, she knew it even while she dreamt him…yet it felt more real than any dream she had had before.
"Fluttershy? Is something wrong?" her father asked, his eyes filling with concern.
She looked up at him and smiled at the tenderness she saw in his face. "I'm fine," she promised, taking his hoof in hers and giving it a gentle squeeze. "It was simply a dream, that's all."
Time Turner's brow furrowed at her words, but nodded his head in agreement. "Yes, you're right…I must have dreamt what I heard. Well, you should continue to get your rest, my dear, tomorrow the managers are hoping to see you at rehearsals," he explained.
Fluttershy smiled and nodded her head. For the first time since she had joined the company, she was actually beginning to look forward to rehearsals. "Goodnight, Papa," she murmured, kissing his cheek as he bent to kiss hers.
"Goodnight, my child," he smiled, before turning and quietly shutting the door to her room.
Fluttershy sighed and fell back against her pillows. Funny, she thought. She would have thought that after such an intense dream she would be sad. Truly, it felt as if Discord had been there! She remembered his embrace, she remembered his kiss…everything! And yet she felt…happy. As if her hopes were being renewed…
She pulled the covers up to her chin to ward off the distinct chill that now filled the room, determined to somehow get some sleep despite this strange feeling that was coursing through her, when she let out a great gasp of realization.
She pulled her left hoof out from beneath the blankets and stared at it with wide-eyed shock.
Her once naked hoof, now wore an elegant gold band.