"Rise and shine, wild bird!"
Those five words were the first to split through silence and semi-darkness only moments before Rainbow Dash felt a layer of warmth and comfort suddenly stripped from her back. Confusing as those words were to her or any listener, it wasn't as confusing as the setting she woke up to.
"Wha...huh?" The slowly awakening mare lifted herself from the cushion of a bed layered with sheets of lavender-colored flower patterns, not a pattern she would've received amiably whether she recognized it or not. And truthfully, she didn't recognize it.
The familiar unicorn of long black, eyelashes, luscious purple curls in her mane, and an ever bright and fashionable composition stood before this bed, smiling. Yes, that was Rarity, but what was this room? It was neatly decorated, with paintings of flowers on black shelves here and there, two identical beds, and walls some shade of pink that must have had some specific name that only elite interior designers would know. She stretched her wide, pointy-feathered wings. This mare was used to waking up slowly with a blissful lack of awareness of her surroundings, and much less of a concrete idea how to start the day. The most information her brain could process at the moment was responding to the dialogue at hand. "What's the... Wild bird? ..Uhh...h?" She blinked her eyes in a sleepy state, her face scrunching up oddly.
Rarity couldn't help but laugh at her friend's bizarre, sleepy face movements. "I don't know, dear, but I couldn't waste any more time standing around here trying to think of a perfectly witty nickname--I'm terribly sorry. It's just that we must get moving!" At the words, she herself began a brisk trot toward the door, but not so briskly as to overwhelm her guest.
Moving? "Oh, of course... The trip to Canterlot. Our main...occupication." Rainbow tumbled out of bed. Yes, that was right, she wasn't used to such an elegantly-carved wooden black ceiling fan such as the one above her head as she lay discombobulated on the floor. She wouldn't be used to any part of Canterlot once she got up and out into the city, but having just awoken she wasn't consciously thinking about that. Having just awoken, she didn't want to. Shortly she was up and stepping right after Rarity across the room to start whatever task they were up to.
No need for the kind of preparation that the other mare, so occupied by her own looks, was. Except that today she sort of had to be. Rainbow Dash was reminded of this when Rarity levitated a suitcase from the foot of one bed, into the air where it was carefully opened and out came that sharp black dress she had seen on the day just before. It looked kind of cool, she thought. At least, for a dress. If she were more awake and in the mood to give herself more bad feelings, Rainbow Dash would have more harshly scolded her mind for complimenting a dress.
"Yes, this trip is ever important," said Rarity, using her levitation to take a quick and firm hold of her black dress and a separate hold of Rainbow Dash, accidentally dropping the bulky suitcase in the process, but not noticing the abrupt crash as she twirled the unprepared pegasus mare around and slipped the dress over her face. She received a startled cry from her friend in response to all the actions happening at once. The adroit unicorn made a concerned face, then continued to talk as she moved. "I'm sorry for all of this sudden preparation, as I'm sure you are overwhelmed. I suppose that's how it is in Canterlot; we just always have to be moving."
With all the commotion, Rainbow was now almost fully awoken. It was almost as if she enjoyed it, except she was in a dress. "So I'm going to be wearing this...all day?"
"For a few hours, at the fashion show. Jet Set and Upper Crust are already there, actually; I'd just needed some time to mentally prepare, and you needed your... sleep. It's a few blocks away from this house, at Reticent Pearl's stage. You know, from her name and her looks, most ponies assume that she's quite dainty and delicate, but that's not exactly true. Compared to the other ponies here, I think you'd probably like miss Pearl; I mean, she is quite quiet, but she's also very expressive in other ways, like her outfits! Trust me, they're not the usual, frilly, lovely outfits you see all over Canterlot, which is part of why I brought you to meet her! And she doesn't chatter away like the other ponies do--although I do typically find their topics of conversation interesting myself. Anyway, Pearl's known for being rather intense in her fashion tastes, which is part of what inspired me to make this dress that does so suit you! Oh, how I do hope she enjoys it. So that's why she invited me here, and I am hoping not to let her down--you'll do well, won't you?" After fixing up the dress and adjusting Rainbow Dash's mane frantically while her mouth went on not much differently from the incessant speaking motor of Pinkie Pie, Rarity gave one last tug to ensure that the collar was tightened.
Rainbow Dash looked like a well-appareled deer in headlights. She nodded.
In the silence, Rarity looked on, scrutinizing her own work. "...Do you think a bow to the hair would enhance this outfit?"
"N-no! I look just...uh, splendid! Let's go!" And Rainbow dashed out the door, an enthusiastic Rarity following.
~ ~ ~
Rarity hadn't been bluffing when she'd said that Reticent Pearl was a fan of dramatic things. Or something along those lines. Rainbow Dash actually couldn't quite remember Rarity even saying those exact words, but it must have flown out of the flamboyant unicorn's mouth when she was adjusting and endlessly tightening this now very bothersome dress back at the house.
The flight-loving pony twitched, not used to being so restricted by these poofy-at-the-shoulder-yet-also-elsewhere tight sleeves. It also wasn't a nice to know she was wearing a skirt that she could easily trip over, and a meticulously-brushed mane style that she wasn't supposed to touch or (more or less literally) move by a hair. But after uselessly fiddling with the collar and the buttons before being scolded gently by Rarity, Rainbow decided to occupy herself in the most harmless way she could think of, which was to examine her surroundings. Actually, she was mostly surrounded at the moment by a curtain that she should have been waiting behind and not looking past. But she couldn't help it; everyone else was gossiping or otherwise talking about this city she had no interest in or the boring aspects of life she would never have even bothered to describe in a conversation.
The curtain she gripped was a black, satin-like fabric, with embroidered designs of moons around the bottom edge in bold crimson thread. A long ramp of sorts was connected to the front and center of the stage around her, sloping downwards and with a red carpet that must have been for ponies to walk right through the sea of seats before them. The stage itself was shaped not quite circular, but it jutted out here and there in little crescent-like shapes. It was a dark-ish theme, Rainbow Dash thought, glancing again at her own dress. She wondered if there would be a performance. Something so strongly mysterious had to have some sort of blatant explanation, especially if it was a fashion show, right? Or maybe she was just hoping for some action. Ugh. Well, of course she was looking for action. Some kind of events were necessary. A pony behind the curtain, far to Rainbow's left, could be heard chatting about the weather. Seriously? The impatient pegasus thought. What were the other ponies here doing?
In the spacious, not only tall but wide room, there weren't many ponies to be seen. Only a few lingered about, but they seemed to be those emotionless staff members who set things up. They just stood and chatted, barely moving. Not interesting. Rainbow craned her neck a bit further, looking this time all about the stage not far from the curtain just in front of her. No one there. She looked up. Those lights along the tall, dark, side walls were too dim. And why did they give off a blue-ish light? It reminded her of moonlight—sort of like those overlapping moon patterns on the curtain. Was this about Princess Luna? She was actually a cool Princess, Rainbow thought, one ponies don’t hear of much. Maybe there would be a show. About Princess Luna fighting off creatures of the night. The idea seemed exciting, and it didn't matter to the awaiting pegasus how out of place the topic seemed for a well-organized Canterlot fashion show.
Without warning, the lighting was affected temporarily, but only by a tiny bit. For a ray of golden light now spilled in from a door swinging open in the distance. More ponies were coming in the entrance. These were fancy ponies indeed. Not too snobby-looking, Rainbow decided; they looked as classy as was expected in Canterlot society, but probably too interested in the cases they lugged around to be looking down on the less classy ponies. In fact, there was something that was almost…comforting about seeing them.
Down the aisles between velvet-cushioned chairs these four ponies trotted. One was an unusually bright purple with a mane that was an almost unpleasantly contrasting bright-cerulean color (but very neatly combed back), this stallion who dragged a large, square case across the floor. Another stallion, accompanied by two helpers, heaved an even larger instrument in his hooves, but not an instrument with a case. No, this was clearly the strings—no…brass? Percussion? Eh, who knows? All that was certain was the name of this instrument, the well-known piano. The dark wood of the piano actually seemed to suit this musician’s appearance. His coat was a dusty sort of brown, a white mane sitting atop his head neatly like a contented, fat bird.
All of these musician ponies carried large instrument cases, but the mare that followed carried over her back what looked like an oversized guitar. The guitar seemed an unusually simple instrument for her dignified looks, but maybe that was just Rainbow Dash being simple and nonchalant Rainbow Dash. This particular string player bore no expression in her lavender eyes, and trotted with exact steps. The puff of her ebony hair was swept slightly sideways over her forehead like a wave in a storm, and the rest of it cascaded down her back as a mystical, rippling waterfall of dark. Her coat was a lackluster gray, though something about the way she walked told the observer that there was more to this pony than a dull, gray-furred mare who occasionally strummed a guitar.
The pegasus awaiting to model, curious and eager to occupy herself, continued to watch that group of musicians make their way to where they were to be for the show. After those few ponies stopped briefly to clear a few questions with the staff, a piano was painstakingly hefted up the stairs that led to the stage and pushed to the side, where the purple stallion eventually placed a large, shining, golden harp. The three ponies adjusted their instruments' position, doing a little tuning as well. As this took place, the giant guitar case was removed from that unnamed mare's back, and removed from it, the true instrument was revealed.
But was it a guitar? The center hole was replaced with two fancy f-shaped holes flanking the four strings, and it had a more elegant shape and deep red-brown, glossy wood. Apparently it wasn't exactly held like a guitar, either, since a pole extended from the end before the concentrated mare propped it up vertically to begin tuning. And when she plucked the string with a delicate yet strong hoof, the sound it emitted was a deep ringing, much unlike the tinny acoustic guitar sounds Rainbow Dash was used to from some traditional Apple family song she was probably forced to hear in the past.
Time passed on the empty and mostly quiet stage, and the instruments were soon tuned and waiting, along with their players, for the time to begin. It was a shame, thought Rainbow Dash, that the instruments had stopped playing. Especially that big fancy guitar thingy. Not that she wanted to hear it more because it fascinated her, but, you know... just because the sound would give her something to listen to. Her head stayed poked out from the other side of the curtain, as it had been since she started watching; she didn't take her eyes off those mysterious musicians, and especially not the one with the big guitar. In the still-bright light, a wandering glance stumbled upon the stealthy face that was bordered with a smooth, dazzlingly brightly colored mane.
Those sharp, lavender eyes may have been concentrated, but even a musician made to appear serious and driven needs to let her eyes wander. And in this mare’s case, it was smart to let her eyes wander. She might have never otherwise guessed that she was being watched by a confused-looking pony from halfway behind the main stage curtain.
The stern-looking gray mare’s eyes darted toward those of the curious facing pony. “Excuse me.” She whispered after a few seconds. But the rainbow-maned mare had vanished with a dramatic rustling of the black fabric. The other few ponies occupying the stage were too absorbed in their own preparations to notice the strange spectacle the gray mare just witnessed. Holding the enormous fancy guitar-like instrument, she took note of this before glancing to her associates to the left. As she predicted, the string players sat still at their instruments with perfect posture and emotionless--if not hiding their status of anxiousness or perhaps peaceful daydreaming--expressions. She sighed calmly, thankful that at least she hadn’t caused a distraction.
Yet, she wondered, why on earth would that pony look at her like that? It hadn’t been a quick glance around the room that happened to land upon her—and not that this poised pony wasn’t used to someone staring superficially at her nicely combed mane or striking eyes—but... It had been a well-dressed pony, a model up on the stage, actually poking her head from behind the curtain. What interest in this quiet musician did one of Reticent Pearl’s models have to distract them from their own importance, from the fabulosity of the dresses they already sported?
The thought of causing a disturbance to the serenity of the room made the slate-maned mare cringe, but another instinct was urging Octavia Melody to do anything that might grab the attention of the unexplained, fleeting magenta glance from moments before. Just something that might temporarily have that bright blue head turned back in her direction.
“Pssst!” Octavia didn’t usually do “pssst”s. They weren’t often well-accepted in Canterlot society, and she didn’t argue that reasoning, as she noticed from quiet observation that it seemed a rather terse and impatient, perhaps thoughtless gesture. But she just had an unexplainable feeling that this pony perceived a “pssst” in a friendly way. This cellist tended to get those kinds of feelings often. She just “knew” things.
At first, there was no response. She could have sworn that she saw the curtain rustle with an unusual amount of movement, but then it stopped.
“Pssst! You,” Octavia whispered gently but forcefully. “Behind the curtain! I’m not upset at you, I just have a question!”
Rainbow Dash shifted nervously again, less drastically now so that the curtain barely moved. What did a Canterlot musician want from a confused and misplaced pegasus like Rainbow Dash? Didn’t those classical concert stars already know everything? Regardless of her fears, she found herself moving a hoof to slide the curtain over for a view of the dark-haired string player.
“Y-yes?” The nervous phrase came from the mouth of a magenta-eyed face.
The dignified, gray pony, still standing in playing position with the cello in front of her, leaned forward after demonstrating the habit of sweeping her eyes across the stage. “What are you doing?”
“Me?” Rainbow Dash made a nervous head shake, her mane whipping around with the vibrant colors of tropical fruit in a blender. Quite a bizarre and undignified movement for just before a Canterlot fashion show. “Me! I-I’m waiting for the time to go on stage. What else?”
A sly smile crept onto Octavia’s face. Not necessarily a smug or mocking one, for her eyes were playful; her expression was knowing of this temporary model’s secret embarrassment, yet still friendly.
Rainbow Dash’s own face told she must have caught the unusual smile, at least.
“Not from here, are you?” Octavia teased, soon giggling at Dash’s shocked look.
“I-I’m… Not used to… Er, I mean, not like I don’t take these jobs all the time—fashion! Modeling! I’m a pro; I can always count on my friend Rarity to make these kind of dresses for me! See how dazzling I look?” She faked a confident tone of voice as she spoke, then striking a sassy pose. When she realized how that pose actually disgusted her, her hooves went down from the side of her head and her hip. “I-I guess I’m just not used to such big events, yeah.”
Octavia held back giggling at the mare's cluelessness. It should have surprised her how intently she listened and carried on the conversation, with eyes as eager as those of her conversation partner. “Oh? What makes you think of Reticent Pearl’ stage as so… significant?”
“Oh, you know! The stage… It’s… All lit up dimly, and… you could say it, uh… ‘carries an air of ominous…ness’. And these… Instruments.” One would have had to make a conscious effort in order not to notice Rainbow Dash glancing intensely at the cello in Octavia’s lap.
Said cellist mare shook her mane, showing subtle pride. Rainbow Dash’s eyes shot right and left, trying to avoid staring at the slate-colored cascade. For a moment she became aware of the rough and unrefined Cloudsdale resident she actually was in the presence of a stunning mare. She probably just offended the present musician somehow. There was silence and one penetrating glance. Rainbow Dash felt a penetrating glance close by, but out of the corner of her eye she didn't see the vague smirk held by that same look.
Sky-blue ears fell flat against her head to protect from the deafening silence. “Heh heh… I’m sorry, it’s just that such a big and fancy guitar seemed like it symbolized, eh…something important!”
There was more silence. And during those seconds of silence, Octavia’s face began its slow transition from confidence to an amusement Rainbow Dash couldn’t understand, until it finally erupted in a fit of laughter. And the earth pony’s laughter was in a rare, brash voice that had a clearly uneven volume and occasional voice cracks, but in some way it did live up to her surname of “Melody”. In all its raw imperfection, her vocal expression of joy flowed together like a boisterous song.
And Rainbow Dash was an awestruck audience member. She did observe these subtle things, subconsciously, about the way such a classy mare laughed. But Rainbow Dash’s reaction, a look of surprise, was caused by not the nature of her laughter but the fact that this contrasting mare had laughed at all.
With one last grin as genuine and goofy as ever to end her laughing spurt, the satisfied mare composed herself and sat up straight from a previous collapsed and slouching position. This transformation back to her almost condescendingly confident nature of the already spectacular mare left Rainbow baffled at all that had happened. She followed her instincts and opened her mouth to speak, because she knew that she had no idea what to say; Octavia was the one who owed an explanation.
“G…uitar. You can’t be serious, right?” Octavia smiled at the beholding pony, who shook her head cluelessly. “Ah, yes, that was why I laughed, wasn’t it?”
She sighed now, plucking the thinnest string carefully, almost silently. It let out a sound that reminded Rainbow Dash not of a rapid guitar pluck, but something more like a waterfall flowing smoothly… if waterfalls could sing like gentle, joyful songbirds.
“This is a cello. A member of the string family, yes, but… Not a guitar. It’s closer to a violin.” She was looking directly now into Rainbow’s eyes. “You know what those things are, right?” Octavia made a motion that mimicked holding the violin, her head tilted, one arm extended past her chin, the other arm moving rapidly side to side and slightly shifting angles in imitation the bow’s movement. Rainbow Dash rolled her eyes.
“That’s a mutated violin, if you ask me.” She laughed afterwards, attempting to make the statement sound more joking and friendly. As always, she hasn’t meant to be so terse.
Octavia gave an offended look for one second, but then just regarded Rainbow’s face undecidedly. Rainbow Dash was grinning nervously, hoping she hadn’t made an enemy again. But Octavia just raised an eyebrow playfully. She looked extremely dignified, bearing a stoic expression as she sat. But she was smiling with her eyes, perceptibly to Rainbow Dash. “You’re really weird,” was all she said.
It was all pretty true, Rainbow thought to herself as the above lights were fading on and off to signal the show was to start soon, and as she suddenly noticed the ponies that were already filling the seats. In all of her eager questions and brusque, impulsive, she probably looked very clumsy and non-elegant.
And yet the well-accustomed Canterlot cellist hadn’t seemed indignant, hadn't turned her head away dismissively or scoffed at the out-of-place model. Yes, this naturally bold loud pegasus had poked her head in, with her colorfully-striped mane and audacious turn of phrase, and found interest in this composed and elegant musician. The unwanted pegasus guest hadn’t even known what a cello was! Absurd! Yet this pony by the name of Rainbow Dash had gone on and actually made Octavia laugh. And not many ponies of Canterlot had what it took to unlock a sincere laugh from Octavia Melody. Yes, it was all a very strange conversation, really. What a way for ponies to meet, if only for a brief moment.