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// Chapter 4: The Fiddler 
// Story: Fiddling with Her Heart 
// by Kevinltk 
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The sun was just starting to set as Octavia walked away from Rarity’s boutique. While taking her time to continue to see the sights of Ponyville, Octavia started her search for an inn to spend the night. She passed through the market row, although almost all of the stalls were closed or beginning to close, as twilight began to descend on the town. She also passed by a number of other interesting structures such as a library built inside a massive tree or a giant gingerbread house. Ponyville did indeed contain many fascinating and wondrous sites.

As Luna started to bring out her moon and stars to appear in the evening sky, Octavia finally found an inn to get a quick meal and a bed for the night. She checked in with the friendly pony at the inn’s front desk and made her way to her assigned room. With all the excitement and walking around she did, Octavia was ready for a good night’s sleep. 





Octavia tossed and turned in bed. She was not having a good night’s sleep. Groaning, she lay on her back and stared up at the ceiling. With Rarity’s insight confirming her suspicions and even Pinkie’s inadvertent comment about her music being boring, Octavia could not help but think what the future might hold for her. She knew she had to figure things out before she could possibly lose her life’s work. Years of meticulous practice and learning the workings of the music industry would all be for naught. All the worries and anxiety that was building up prevented the poor mare from falling asleep.

With a huff, Octavia resigned herself to the fact that she was not going to be able to get to sleep anytime soon. She decided a late night walk was in order to possibly clear her head and cure her insomnia. She quietly exited her room and made her way outside, not wanting to disturb the owners and any other ponies who were also staying at the inn.

Outside, Octavia made her way through the dark streets. It was much darker than Canterlot due to a reduced number of streetlights and lights from houses. There was also a severe lack of ponies walking about. Clearly, the night life of Ponyville was vastly different than Canterlot’s although the fact it was such a late hour helped explained it. Still, in Canterlot there were quite a few ponies that would be up at this hour, either for business or pleasure. Despite the rather desolate streets, at least it was a cloudless night with the moon and stars shining brightly down on the dimly lit town.

Octavia wandered aimlessly around Ponyville, passing row after row of buildings, with not a pony in sight. A cold gust caused her to shiver, but she continued on, her worrisome thoughts still plaguing her mind.

Continuing her way down the road, Octavia eventually found herself starting to reach the urban outskirts and towards the more rural parts of Ponyville where many farms had set up their fields and homes. Passing through some of these farms, she gave a quick glance at the various crops and produce in each farm that she walked by. She briefly wondered if perhaps some of the produce she consumed in Canterlot came from these very fields. It was interesting to contemplate how a simple, seemingly unimportant town was possibly sustaining the lavish capitol. As she reached what looked like an apple farm, she paused momentarily to look at the giant, red farmhouse within. Octavia’s ears flicked.

She heard something and swiveled her head around, trying to find the source. Spending most of her life playing music and training her ears had given Octavia the ability to pick up sounds the average pony could not hear. She turned towards the apple trees. Somewhere from inside the forest of apple trees, the faint sound of somepony playing a violin drifted towards her. There was something different about the music, but she could not quite put her hoof on it. Her curiosity piqued, Octavia entered the orchard and followed the music.

As she got closer to the source of the music, it grew louder and clearer. Based on what she could hear, the player did not have much formal training with music, and yet the music was somehow alluring and continued to attract her.

After a few moments of navigating through the apple orchard, Octavia finally emerged from the trees to a clearing. A small hill was in the middle of the clearing with a large apple tree on top of it. From beyond the tree’s branches was a clear view of the stars and moon adorning the sky. But Octavia hardly took notice of her surroundings. Her eyes were locked onto what was under the tree’s branches. It was a sight that nearly took her breath away.

Octavia saw her.

An orange-coated mare with a yellow mane and tail, both tied together with red bands, and a brown stetson on her head was seated at the base of the large tree. Using her hooves, the orange pony was playing the violin that had lured Octavia to the clearing. As her bow and left forehoof slowly glided along the violin’s strings, the violinist’s head occasionally flicked back and forth from her playing and the night sky.

Now that she was up close, Octavia was able to thoroughly analyze the mysterious pony’s playing. The music was a piece that she had never heard before, but it had an unsteady rhythm and the notes did not always naturally flow into the next. It was almost like there was no real pattern to the piece, and the mare was just making it up as she went. Even her movements were erratic at times. Octavia could tell that the violinist was not one who practiced a lot, and she felt the music was rough and unrefined.

And yet Octavia could not stop listening to it. Despite the music’s rugged nature, it was hauntingly beautiful. It was nothing like she had heard from listening to other musicians she knew. The melody was slow and deep, conveying a myriad of emotions in Octavia. The music stirred something within her.

She felt sadness.

She felt heartbroken.

She felt alone.

As Octavia stood there unnoticed by the orange mare and listening to her dirge, she felt something wet drip down her cheeks. Bringing a hoof to her face, Octavia gasped. The wetness was caused by none other than her tears.

Octavia looked up at the evening sky. She knew her head should have been swimming with thoughts, worries, and grief, but somehow the magical music and night sky quieted her mind. She did not think. She just felt. A small smile appeared on her face as two shooting stars blazed across the sky. Surrendering herself to the melancholy melody, Octavia closed her eyes and relaxed. The beautiful scene in front of her as well as the enchanting music felt like she was in a fairy tale.

It took a few seconds before Octavia realized the music had stopped. Opening her eyes to look back at the orange mare, she could see that the mare had put down her instrument and was staring intently at the stars. Octavia could see the seated mare was visibly shaking. Suddenly, the mare broke down crying.

Octavia took a step forward, her first instinct wanting to go and comfort the crying mare, before she paused. The clearing they were in was a quite a distance away from the farmhouse and any other farms. At such a late hour and the music just barely reaching the farmhouse, it was very likely the mare purposefully came all the way out here, wanting to be alone. Biting her lip, Octavia debated whether or not she should step out of hiding.

With a sigh, Octavia turned around and headed back through the apple orchard. It was already rude of her to intrude on what was probably a very personal and private moment. Whatever the mare was going through, Octavia did not want to risk upsetting the orange mare anymore. As the clearing disappeared from view, Octavia silently wished the crying pony good luck. The last thing she heard was the mare’s quiet sobs fade away amongst the apple trees.

As she made her way back to the inn, all Octavia could think of was that orange mare and her music. She sincerely hoped that one day, they would be able to properly meet. Maybe, just maybe, this mare held the key to discover what was missing.