To those unfamiliar with her, Octavia was a rather aloof mare, wholly focused on her chosen career, and something of a musical prodigy. That she had reached the coveted First Chair of the cello section of the Canterlot Philharmonic at such a young age and as an earth pony impressed many. But, ultimately, Octavia was dismissed as just another perfectionist musician. To most, the only interesting thing about her was her relationship with Vinyl Scratch.
The few ponies who knew her, who spent time with her, could tell a different story.
******
Octavia knocked on the door, her cello case balanced on her back, as the wind bit at her, picking up some of the snow that had gathered on the street. The door was opened by an older unicorn mare.
“Octavia! Come in, come in! The children will be delighted to see you!
“It’s wonderful to see you too, Midnight,” said Octavia, hugging the mare who had basically raised her from birth.
“Where’s Vinyl this year?” asked Midnight, as the two walked down the corridor towards the living room.
“She’s out of town, unfortunately. She’s out performing, and sends her regrets – She loves doing this for the kids. She’ll probably drop by once she gets back.” Midnight nodded, and the two entered the large communal living room, and Octavia was immediately mobbed by a small army of colts and fillies.
“Miss Octavia! Miss Octavia!” they cried, as they crowded around the cellist, and Octavia laughed as she hugged each one in turn. After the little ones had been taken care of, the older ones came up and offered their own greetings. But as she was greeting them, her eyes glanced around the room, noting a distinct lack of furniture, as well as a slowly dying fire in the hearth, and her eyes narrowed.
“Miss Octavia, are you alright?” asked one of the closer fillies.
“Yes, I am. I was just thinking about a horrible piece of music that my conductor is making us play right now. But anyway, would you all like to hear a story?” That, it seemed, was the magic word.
“Story, story, story!” chanted the younger kids, and Octavia took a seat with her back to the dwindling fire.
“Alright,” she said, as the children arrayed themselves in front of her, “here’s the story of how Vinyl and I met Princess Cadence. It was a nice day, a few months ago, so the weather was just starting to get cold, and Vinyl and I were...debating... over where we were going to go for the Nightmare Night Celebrations...”
****
Octavia kept talking long into the night, entertaining the children with stories from hers and Vinyl’s lives, all acted out with full sound effects and grandiose gestures on Octavia’s part. Once they had grown tired, Octavia had helped Midnight carry them up to their beds, and once they were back downstairs, Octavia opened up her cello case, and pulled out a big sack.
“Here you are, Midnight,” said Octavia, offering the sack to the caretaker, “I wish I could do more, but...”
“Every little bit helps, Octavia,” said Midnight, levitating the sack from Octavia. “That you come here year after year is the highlight of their lives. You and Vinyl both are symbols for them. You are showing them that they can still be whatever they want to be, that they aren’t constrained by growing up here.”
“It’s not acceptable, you know,” growled Octavia, “You shouldn’t have to burn furniture to stay warm, not during Hearths’ Warming. You know that Vinyl would say the same thing.”
“I can’t do anything, Octavia. The nobles don’t care about us, about the orphanage. I’ve tried taking it to the Courts, but that never gets anywhere. As far as they’re concerned, we’re still receiving our full budget. You and Vinyl are the only reason we’re still here.”
*****Time****
“I know, Midnight,” sighed Octavia, “but it still doesn’t make it right. I’ll keep trying anything that I can think of. At least with that you can buy some firewood.”
“Thank you, Octavia,” said Midnight, wrapping the cellist in a hug, “and tell Vinyl thank you as well.”
“I will,” said Octavia, as she exited the orphanage, and beginning the walk back home.