//------------------------------// // Harp Strings and Heartstrings // Story: The Music of Ponyville // by GrassAndClouds2 //------------------------------// “Next up: weather!” chirped Pageturner, reading from her notebook. “Pony in charge is a mare named Rainbow Dash.” She chuckled. “Sure you don’t want to try another apple fritter, Octavia?” “Yes, thank you.” Octavia patted her stomach. “I am quite full. The Apples are very expansive hosts.” Applejack had offered to let the Canterlot duo try samples of everything the farm would be serving during the Celebration. Octavia had taken light samples of everything and had verified that it was suitable fare for the occasion. Pageturner had wolfed down as much as she could hold. “The weather office should be right down that way,” said Pageturner, pointing. “Just past the music store.” "Music store?" asked Octavia. “Yep! Want to stop in on the way? You were saying how you want to pick up a new string for your cello.” Octavia paused, torn between wanting to examine a new music vendor and wanting to get on with the logistics tasks she had to complete. “Well,” she said at last, “it wouldn’t hurt to see what sort of music this town buys. Besides, we might find the local musician, Fluttershy, there.” “That’s the spirit! Let’s check it out!” Octavia’s enthusiasm, though, was slightly dampened when she drew closer and took a better look at the store. The two-story building looked a lot more run-down than Octavia would have liked. The paint was faded, the flagstones were cracked, and the lawn outside the store was overrun by weeds. The cellist frowned, wondering if even the music vendor of this town was ambivalent about the craft. “Come on!” said Pageturner, opening the door and hurrying inside. Octavia entered -- and stared. The inside of the building looked little different than the outside; dust in the corners, paint fading on the old walls, and a few shelves and tables showing signs of hasty repair where some old component had finally given out. There was an air of gloom over the building itself. But the instruments -- the shining flutes and piccolos on display along one wall, the gleaming brass of the tubas, trombones, and trumpets along another, the carefully preserved drumheads on the percussion instruments -- were expertly maintained. Most looked like they could be played immediately. Octavia looked around, not seeing a proprietor. She cautiously stepped further into the shop, approaching a large cello leaning against a shelf. Examining it closely, and plucking a few strings, she noted that it was in tune and of high quality. “Wonderful,” she said, turning back to Pageturner. “This is a quality instrument.” “Can I help you?” Octavia glanced over at the stairs, where a green-coated, green-maned pegasus was fluttering down to the shop floor. “Hello,” the cellist said. “I apologize for intruding; I was just admiring your wares.” “This is a really cool shop!” said Pageturner. “Do you own it?” “Yeah. Medley’s Music Emporium, Medley speaking.” The pony flew over behind the counter. “See anything you like?” “I already own a cello, but I have to admit, this one is very well crafted and maintained,” said Octavia, scrutinizing the instrument. “Do you do all the maintenance yourself?” “Yep.” Medley nodded. “Got a tuning schedule and everything. Every instrument in this store is playable upon purchase, and that’s something you won’t find in the fancy-schmancy big-city stores.” “Impressive,” said Octavia. “A very laudable business ethic. Do you play any instruments yourself?” “Not exactly,” said Medley. Pageturner tilted her head. “What does that mean?” With a slight smile, Medley bent below the counter, then brought two instruments up and laid them down. Octavia recognized them as sets of windchimes. “Those look lovely.” “Thanks,” said Medley. “I made them myself. It's my hobby.” Octavia blinked. "Made them?" she echoed. The instruments looked far better than she would have expected from a hobbyist. “I have a little shop down in the basement. In my spare time, I like to build instruments like this. It’s nice to hang them in a corner of the shop and let them play while the customers browse.” Medley giggled. “I just finished my latest project... want to see?” “Certainly.” Medley led Pageturner and Octavia to the back of the shop, where they could see through a window into a little yard. In the center of the yard was a huge harp, half again as tall as a pony, and with its frame carved out of stone. Between the frame was a dazzling array of strings. “What’s that?” asked Pageturner. “It’s an aeolian harp,” said Octavia, quietly. She had seen images of that sort of instrument, albeit only in old textbooks. “The strings are too heavy to be plucked by hoof or rubbed by bow, and that harp is too large for ponies to play regardless. That harp can only be played by the wind.” She turned to Medley. “I have never seen one outside of a museum. This is incredible.” “Thanks!” said Medley. “Glad you appreciate it.” Octavia smiled. “It is a work of art. I am honored to see it.” Medley opened the window just as a few guests of wind blew through the yard and the harp strings. The resultant sound was unlike any Octavia had heard before; there was no onset, not even any attack; the music just seemed to arise out of the instrument as if drawn by magic. The sound was sweet, soft, and ethereal, and as it constantly shifted, altering based on the subtlest variations in the breeze, Octavia found herself entranced. When it was over, all Octavia could say was, “...spectacular.” Pageturner giggled, though when Octavia turned she had composed herself again. “Where are you from?” Medley trotted back to the counter. “Your accent’s... Chenneigh, right?” “Yes.” Octavia concealed her surprise that Medley had recognized it. “But I have spent the last two years in Canterlot. I am--” The door banged open and a blue-coated, rainbow-maned pegasus flapped in. “Hey, Medley!” she called out. “Got some good news for you!” Medley smiled. “Great! What’s up, Rainbow Dash?” But Octavia thought she heard an undercurrent of frustration in her voice. “You know that big celebration tomorrow? Well, Raindrops and Cloudkicker just reported in -- there’s a big storm heading in from the Everfree.” Rainbow Dash chuckled. “When it rains it pours, huh? Anyway, we’ll be needing some extra help to make sure it doesn’t rain on Princess Cadance. You available?” Medley was silent for a moment before nodding. “Yes. Just tell me where and when." “After you close up shop tomorrow, meet us by Fluttershy’s house, at the edge of the Everfree.” Rainbow Dash grinned. “This is gonna be the most amazing party ever! Let’s get all the weather taken care of so we can get some of that Sweet Apple Acres Cider!” And with a laugh, she left the shop. Medley watched her go, and Octavia noted that her hoofs were digging into the counter slightly. Octavia hesitated before forging ahead. “I apologize for prying, but is there a problem?” “Not really,” muttered Medley. Octavia raised an eyebrow. Medley shrugged. “It's just... it used to be, I could get some pretty regular hours helping out the weather patrol part time. Then this hotshot from Cloudsdale shows up, fastest pony alive or something, and now she practically does all the weather herself.” She gestured vaguely at the door. “Now I’m lucky if they need my help in the middle of a monsoon. And she's so smug about it, brags about setting records and joining the Wonderbolts...” She paused. "Nevermind. It's not your concern." Octavia looked around again, wondering if the dilapidation of the shop was due to lack of resources instead of a lack of care on the part of the owner. “...please forgive me if this question is too personal, but if that is your situation, how can you keep all these instruments in such exquisite condition?” “I get by,” said Medley. “I work hard, I don’t need charity -- and I fulfil my obligation to my customers. If I offer to sell them something, you can be sure it's to be the best instrument this side of the Everfree. I find the money to get the job done.” She paused. “It's just... never mind. Is there something you want to buy?” Octavia paused. “Well...” *** “You bought a lot,” teased Pageturner. “You like her!” Octavia raised an eyebrow. “I simply asked for the most popular scores. I must learn what this town thinks music--” “Oh, you could have done that there, or just asked their names. You probably know all those pieces by heart.” Pageturner giggled. “You like her.” “I respect her,” corrected Octavia. “As a musician, I can appreciate all the work she must put into maintaining those instruments, despite her evident financial difficulty. And... while natural music isn’t exactly my style, I can certainly appreciate her craftsmareship.” She shrugged. “Besides. The House of Philharmonica has resources. I would be remiss if I did not use those resources to assist others.” “Don’t try to play it off,” urged Pageturner. “You did a good thing.” She nudged Octavia. “You helped her out. You might even have made a friend!” Octavia rolled her eyes at Pageturner’s last comment. “I intend to do a bit more than just purchase some of her wares.” Octavia smiled. “Her craft shouldn’t be left languishing in a crumbling shop. I will talk with the Mayor about putting some of her installation pieces in the Equinox Celebration.” Pageturner paused. “Er. Aren’t you just supposed to be coordinating? I don’t think you’re supposed to change--” “It is my job to make sure this celebration goes off as well as it possibly can. If I must change something to ensure that, I will fulfil my duty.” Octavia nodded firmly. “Now, what’s next?” “Uh... decorations. We need to get to some place called ‘Carousel Boutique.’” Octavia nodded. “Splendid.” *** “Octavia Philharmonica?” gasped the white-coated, purple-maned pony, upon hearing the introduction. “Not the heir to the House of Philharmonica?” “Uh, no,” said Octavia, a bit taken aback. “I’m the third daughter. My two elder sisters are in line to inherit the title--” “But even so, your lineage is remarkable! Besides, aren’t you Princess Cadance’s personal student? You must be an incredible pony! Oh, I’m so honored to have you here in my shop!” Octavia blushed, feeling a little uncomfortable. “How do you know all that?” “I make it a point to keep track of high society.” The pony’s eyes gleamed. “I might be just a small-town clothier for now, but I have big plans. One day, mark my words, every noble in Canterlot will wear fashions designed by moi!” "Uh huh..." managed the cellist. “Anyway, where are my manners? I am Rarity. You’re here about the decorations for tomorrow, right?” “Yes--” “Right this way! You won’t believe your eyes!” Despite the mare’s grandiose claims, Octavia found herself satisfied with the decorations. Rarity seemed an expert at knowing just what Octavia would need to see, and the cellist was able to examine samples of all the important fabrics and other decorations for the next day. She found no fault in any of Rarity’s wares, and she was able to pronounce herself satisfied that Carousel Boutique would supply wonderful goods for the Celebration. “You’ll make sure Princess Cadance knows who supplied the goods, yes?” said Rarity, as she passed another fabric swatch over for Octavia to examine. “Of course. She will know of all the vendors.” Rarity grinned brightly. “Now, there’s one more thing. I’ve taken the liberty of putting together some outfits for the local performers, you know, to make sure they go with the decor and all. What do you think of this?” Her horn glowed, a dropcloth flying into the air-- To reveal only a bare mannequin underneath. Rarity blinked for a few moments. Then she frowned. “Sweetie Belle!” she called. “Come in here at once!” After a few minutes, a little foal tumbled into the room. She was wearing a dress three times her size and was tripping over the legs. “Yes?” she asked, smiling brightly. “Sweetie Belle! How many times have I told you not to touch my things?” complained Rarity. “This is very important, and now look! You’ve gotten the outfit all muddy!” Sweetie Belle looked down. “Oops... but I wanted to look pretty like you!” Octavia couldn’t help but smile, though Rarity seemed annoyed. “Miss Philharmonica, I am so sorry. Please -- could you come back in an hour or so? I need to get this cleaned.” Octavia frowned, thinking of her cello languishing in her quarters. “Why don’t I go visit Fluttershy, and then--” “Oh no no no, that won’t be necessary! Just -- give me just a few minutes. I will make this dress immaculate once more! And I promise you, it will be worthy every minute of the wait!” Octavia opened her mouth to refuse, but Pageturner was too fast. “Sure!" she chirped. "We're happy to wait! Is there anywhere fun to hang out around here?” “Fun?” Rarity paused “Bonbon’s Bon Bons is popular, I suppose, as is Sugar Cube Corner. But thank you for waiting. You won’t regret this!” And she hustled her sister out of the room, scolding her as she went. Octavia frowned at Pageturner. “I did not--” “Oh, relax.” Pageturner smiled genially. “Let’s go to Bonbon’s Bon-Thingies. It’ll be fun!” *** Octavia looked through the shop window at all the candies and chocolates that her diet wouldn’t allow her to eat and tried to ignore Pageturner’s musings about which treats she would buy first. “...oh, but those lemon bars look really good. Or -- gumdrops! I love gumdrops! Maybe I can get gumdrops on the lemon bars! Or mixed in!” Pageturner squeaked. “Wanna split a sundae?” Octavia frowned. “We have been here a while. Rarity is probably ready for us. We should make our choice and--" “We can't rush it! Besides, choosing is ninety percent of the fun!” Pageturner grinned. “I wonder what those big snowdrops taste like?” “They taste like a fresh cloud on top of a mountain!” Both mares turned to see a mint-green mare smiling at them. Octavia recognized her as having helped lead the song in the town square earlier. “I’m... sorry?” she asked. “The snowdrops are delicious!” said the pony, rising on her hind legs and flailing her forelegs about. “They’re chocolatey and crunchy and sweet! They taste like all the joy of the first snowball of winter compressed into a little candy!” She grinned. “But that’s only the twelfth best thing in Bonbon’s Bon Bons!” “What’s the best candy she has?” asked Pageturner. “Hmm... I’d have to go with the double-chocolate crunch bars.” The green mare grinned. “They say eating one is like being personally blessed by the Princess Herself and taken up to her star palace!” “... The Princess doesn’t have a star palace,” said Octavia. “Really? Dang. I’ll need a new metaphor.” The pony laughed. “My name’s Lyra Heartstrings. How are you?” “Very well, thank you.” Octavia bowed her head. “Octavia Philharmonica, and this is my personal assistant Pageturner.” Pageturner nodded. “So those crunch bars are the best thing in the shop?” “No, the most delicious candy. They’re only the second best thing in her shop,” corrected Lyra. “What’s the best?” asked Octavia, finding herself curious despite her diet. Lyra’s eyes sparkled. “Bonbon herself.” The cellist stared. “Is she not the most beautiful mare in all Equestria?” said Lyra, putting a hoof over her heart. “Is she not the most lovely, her voice the sweetest, her mane the prettiest, her cutie mark the... cutiest? Could any pony possibly measure up to such perfection? Neigh, say I!” “Are you dating, then?" asked Pageturner, ignoring Octavia's frantic glances designed to stop her assistant from encouraging the other pony. “Any day now! I just have to come up with the right strategy!” Lyra’s eyes flashed. “Shall I serenade her with lyre music from afar? Perhaps I should play for her up close! I--” “You play an instrument?” asked Octavia, desperate to change the topic. “Huh? Oh, yes! I’m a lyrist. I busk most days in the park.” Lyra’s horn glowed, and a lyre popped into existence in front of her. “Ballads mostly. Why, tomorrow I’ll be playing all about how Princess Cadance overthrew her wicked sisters and took over the nation to rule with justice and friendship and love!” Pageturner grinned. “I love ballads like that!” Octavia frowned. “...personally, I don't believe such stories. It's just an old mare's tale to scare children. 'Behave, or Nightmare Moon will gobble you up,'" she said. "And Princess Cadance never mentioned any such battle, so--" “Yeah, yeah, I know. Most ponies don’t think there ever was a ‘Celestia’ or ‘Luna’ that went evil and turned into ‘Burning Sun’ and ‘Nightmare Moon.’ They never got sealed into the sun and moon a millenia ago, and we don’t need to sacrifice chocolate cookies every year to make sure they don’t come back.” “Chocolate cookies?” “To appease the angry star gods! And what better appeasement than a delicious cookie?” asked Lyra. “Pinkie and Ditzy prefer muffins, but me, I do cookies every year. And who cares about what the stodgy ponies think anyway? My ballad makes for a much better story!” Lyra grinned and began to strum her lyre. Octavia didn’t know how to respond to that. “Well... it was nice to meet you--” “Wait! Don’t go!” Lyra grinned. “You’re new in town! You can help me. I need to gather some intelligence on Bonnie! See what she thinks about me.” Octavia paused. “I really don’t think that would be appropriate--” “Sure! What do you need us to do?” interjected Pageturner. “I’m going to go in and order her most expensive candy!” said Lyra, eyes bright. “You got in after me, and... you know, all smooth like... ask her what she thinks about me. Maybe she’ll sigh dreamily, or smile and stare in a far-off corner...” Octavia was becoming tired from just listening to the lovestruck Lyra. Still, she could see that her assistant was already committed to helping the green mare. “Very well. But after that, we need to get going.” She glanced at Pageturner. “We still have work to do.” “Of course, of course,” said Lyra. “Now... I’ll be back in about ten minutes. Wish me luck!” The lyrist disappeared into the store, and Octavia turned to Pageturner, who began to giggle. “Isn’t love sweet?” the shorter mare said. “She’s horn over hooves for the candymare!” “She seems a bit silly,” said Octavia. “So? She’s fun!” A few minutes later, Lyra walked out with an elaborately sculpted chocolate bunny balanced carefully on her back. “Now!” she said. “See what she thinks of me!” Octavia and Pageturner went into the candy store; the former taking one whiff of the air and wondering idly if it was possible to get a contact sugar high. Pageturner, though, showed no such trepidation, and went right up to the counter. “Hi!” “Good morning!” said the shopkeeper. Her nametag read that her name was Bonbon, and added that she was happy to serve them. “I’ll try a double-chocolate crunch bar!” said Pageturner. “I heard they’re really good.” “Great!” Bonbon began to wrap one up. “Yeah, these are a good seller. Who told you about them?” “This pony we saw outside named Lyra. I think she was just here, actually. Do you know her?” Octavia hid her smile behind a hoof. “Lyra? She’s a great customer. I think she’s tried everything my shop has to offer.” Bonbon chuckled. “A real connoisseur of chocolate. I appreciate that.” “You two must be friends if she buys so many sweets from you,” urged Pageturner. Bonbon shrugged. “Nah. She just buys candy from me, it’s not like we ever talk outside of that.” She chuckled. “And if you’ve seen her, you know how hyper she is. If she wanted to be friends with me, I’d know it.” Pageturner was silently shaking with laughter, and even Octavia felt amused. “Oh... of course,” the assistant said. “Well... thanks for the candy!” Outside, the two ponies turned to talk to each other when Lyra bounced between them. “What’d she say? What’d she say? Does she long for me? Does she dream of me? Does she think of me as her sun and moon?” Octavia blinked. “Uh.” Pageturner coughed. “Well, she did say that she remembered that you’ve bought most of her merchandise--” “She remembered me?!” Lyra’s face split into a grin that stretched from ear to ear. “Yay! I knew my patronage would pay off!” She enveloped both Octavia and Pageturner in a massive hug. “She remembers me! She remembers me! HURRAY!” And with that, she bounced down the path, singing merrily. Octavia stared after her. “Pageturner, did she just... hug me?” Pageturner was giggling. “Yep!” “...I will give you ten bits to never mention this again.” Pageturner laughed harder. “No deal.” And she sprinted off. “Come on, I bet Rarity’s ready by now!” And Octavia had no choice but to follow.