A week later and in the morning hours at the train station, an alicorn princess and her dragon assistant waited at the tiny station, going over some last minute details.
“A wagon full of copies,” Twilight asked as she looked over the playlist.
Spike looked over at the red wagon that was filled with thick sheet music, “Check.”
“Tickets for Octavia and Ludwig?”
He held them up, “Check.”
“Our tickets?”
“Double check.”
“The listening equipment for Mr. Beethoven to hear with?”
“Already in Canterlot Twi.”
She checked it off, “Octavia and Ludwig?” Twilight looked up, “Where are they anyway?”
Her assistant looked at the clock, “It’s still early. Just give them some time; I’m sure they’ll be here.”
Twilight looked back at her list, “Are you sure that he knows about it?”
“And I’ve written a reminder the night before,” Spike folded his arms. “I think that we’ve got everything except those two and Octavia’s cello.”
“I just wanted to make sure,” she sighed, “After all; it’s been a pretty busy week.”
“Tell me about it,” Spike went over to sit on the benches. “With you getting some of those publishers in making copies of his first two symphonies for the orchestra, my teacher practicing with Mr. Beethoven for their introduction piece and him arguing with Applejack, it’s been a busy week.”
“Yeah,” Twilight sat right next to him. “I still can’t believe of what the Apples are putting up with. His writing on the walls, spilling ink on the floor, me having to fix and retune the strings of his piano several times and even yelling at Big Mac. I guess while we’re in Canterlot, I might as well go to Celestia to see how the living arrangements for him are coming along.”
“So I’ve heard. At least he’s happy that Rarity has given him some new clothes and that he does like Pinkie’s baking.”
“I know. But Fluttershy is still a little too nervous going near him. However, we can focus on those issues later; we have an audition to attend.”
Several minutes later, they spotted the mare and the composer coming up to them. Octavia was pulling a cart with her cello case in the back while Ludwig still looked as messy as ever, even with the green coat he was wearing now. “Good morning Princess and dragon,” he said as he noticed the small wagon full of music. He picked one of them up and flipped through the pages, “Are all of these printed?”
Twilight nodded.
“Did you make sure that your publishers had followed closely to all of the notes that I’ve written?” He pulled out from his breast pocket his conversation book, along with a pencil and offered it to Twilight.
I did. I even rechecked and corrected for mistakes that were made. All of them are exact copies of your first two symphonies
“Wunderbar!”
The Princess turned to the Cellist, “Do you think you’re prepared for what’s going to happen today?”
“I will not lie,” Octavia admitted, “this past week has been very difficult. Even though we’re just going to play only one movement from his Cello Sonata, I had quite a work out with his music. However, I think we’re ready to convince the orchestra to take up his music as well.”
Ludwig turned his attention towards the lines of iron tracks that stretch far into the distance in both directions. “Is this some kind of road?”
Twilight wrote down her answer.
It is in a way. They’re for a machine that will help us get to Canterlot in an hour. It should arrive in a few minutes.
“How do you know when it’ll be here?”
It has a schedule.
Ludwig looked on with a raised eyebrow, "It has a schedule? This world is indeed strange.
"Pardon me, Princess," Octavia said, "Could you ask him if there were any trains where he came from?"
The princess did, and after showing it to Beethoven, he replied, "Are you kidding? These trains and iron rails have just been invented in Europe a couple years ago. In Vienna, we have to use a carriage or go by foot if one is to go anywhere. From what I've read, the locomotive is such a noisy thing, isn't it? That it makes tremendous noise as it speeds across the land that builds these, let's face it, ugly roads from one place to another."
"He's certainly a product of the time, isn't he," Octavia commented.
Then a familiar whistle blew in the distance that signaled that the train was close. A couple of minutes later, the locomotive along with its passenger cars pulled up to them. Ludwig looked on with curiosity, “What is this?”
Our ride to Canterlot, I’ll give the train conductor our tickets and we’ll be over there in no time.
“Isn’t one of those machines that run on steam?” the ponies plus a dragon nodded. “But don’t they explode?”
Twilight sighed; this was going to be one long discussion to the capital.
_*_
“As much as I like Moztrot, I swear that if we vote to play something from him one more time, I’m going to scream.” The stallion complained to his fellow musician next to him. His coat was a sandy brown with his mane and tail a creamy white – his emerald eyes looked down at his collar, stopping a moment to straighten his red bow-tie.
“Well I can’t say that I can blame you, Frederic,” the mare nodded, she was one of the Violists in the orchestra. “Besides, with all that’s been going, I’m wondering if pursuing this career is even worth it.”
“It’s not that I don’t like what we play Alto,” he said as they continued on. “But I would like to have some verity every once in a while. Just to give us, and what remains of our ever-aging audience a surprise every so often would be nice.”
“Yeah, I see what you mean,” the dusty gold mare commented as she pushed open the door. “Who knows, maybe we could able to play something interesting coming out of this meeting.”
As they came into the theater, noticing the electrical wires on the floor, they followed it until it leads into the seating portion of the building where they found that there was some electrical equipment on stage that was in front of a very confused orchestra.
“What’s all this for?” Frederic asked aloud as they came on stage.
“You can blame my friend for this,” he turned to the voice that he located was coming from Octavia, who already had her cello out, playing the scales already. “However, all of this is here for a very good reason Mr. Hosreshoepin.”
“Are we recording today?” Alto inquired.
“No. It’s actually for somepony special that, I’m going to purpose that we’re going to play his music. He’s here, but I wanted to wait until everypony else is here.”
Several minutes went by until the whole orchestra, plus their conductor, a blue mare named Sea Sharp, came up on stage. “Why is all this equipment lying around?” she asked.
“Maestro,” Octavia stood up, “This is actually my doing, but it’s all for a very good reason.”
“That being?” her conductor raised an eyebrow.
“Since everypony is here, I want to purpose on what music we should be playing for the coming year. It’s from someone that’s quite new in the music world that I was hoping that I could not only introduce him, but his music as well for us to play.”
“For the whole year?” someone coming from the brass section asked. “Like who?”
“I’ll be right back,” she said as she disappeared behind the velvet curtains of the stage. A minute later, not only her but Princess Twilight and her assistant came on out as well. Immediately, everypony bowed to her. But then, they all heard heavy, stone-like steps that came around to pull the curtain away. The orchestra froze as they saw a towering figure that emerged from the curtain.
“Everypony,” Twilight spoke up, “I want all of you to meet a new friend of mine. Ludwig van Beethoven. He’s a composer and pianist that both he and I wanted to have you to be the very first to premier his music to Equestria.”
“Celestia he’s huge,” Alto whispered over to Horseshoepin, in which he dumbly nodded.
“Now, before we begin,” the princess said further as the giant walked over to the piano while Octavia dragged her cello towards the microphone. “I think that it’s very important for all of you to learn one thing about this genius composer here today. It is that as paradoxical as it may sound is absolutely true.” Spike blew up a paper bag into a balloon in which he walked right up behind the old man. “It is that Mr. Beethoven is completely deaf.”
At this signal, the dragon slapped the bag as hard as he could in which there was a loud Pop! While the orchestra was surprised to various some degrees at the sudden sound, Ludwig didn’t seem to flinch as he opens the lid to the keyboard.
“I know what all of you are thinking,” Twilight continued, “You may think that this is crazy, but from what I’ve seen and heard, Mr. Beethoven is a composer unlike any other. All I’m, and Ms. Melody are asking, is for all of you to give him, and his music a fair chance. In fact, Octavia and Ludwig have already prepared a little something to hopefully convince you to play all nine (and possibly ten) of his symphonies, and maybe a couple of piano concertos as well if you have enough time.”
Frederic raised a hoof, “You mean he’s going to play for us?” The Princess of Friendship nodded. “But how do you expect for him to hear the keyboard or Ms. Melody’s cello? You said so yourself, Your Highness, he can’t hear.”
“That’s what this equipment is for,” Octavia told him as she took her place. “Although he can’t hear anything from his ears, he can pick up vibrations from the earphones that he’s about to put on.” They watched as Ludwig placed the discs on his cheekbones. The gray mare tapped on the microphone near her, “Can you hear me?” she asked into it.
“Ja,” Beethoven replied before tapping the microphone near the piano, in which he nodded.
The Cellist turned to her conductor, “With your and the orchestra’s permission, I would like to perform with Mr. Beethoven a movement from one of his cello sonatas to give all of you an idea what he can do.”
Now curious, she was told to go ahead with it – and so, Octavia raised her bow to her strings, taking in a deep breath before she began to play the first few notes. This was followed by Ludwig’s playing that followed as he hummed aloud. In fact, as he played, members from the Philharmonic had to do a double take that although the princess claimed that he couldn’t hear a thing, he was playing the piano heavenly.
There was a kind of certain grandeur at the first minute before the music took on a surprising turn as both piano and cello took on a delicate but virtuosic turn. Everypony in the theater turned to one another in surprise, amusement or confusion, because unlike all the other pieces they’ve performed where there’s a certain structure where there’s a theme, to variation, back to theme and a new variation, this was all over the place. But no matter how chaotic it got in the duet, there was a kind of grace and lightheartedness that counterpoint the madness and wild notes. Somehow, it gave the main theme a kind of richness in every changing key and attitude.
While the movement went on for about ten or eleven minutes, it seemed less because even though the orchestra and the conductor had never heard anything like it before, they not only listened to it but paid attention as well. If anything, many noticed that it seemed that Octavia was actually… enjoying herself playing, even at the last moments. There was a strong passion for Beethoven’s playing too as he went tender one moment and thunderous the next, but never to the point where it got distracting, rather, it complimented the cello.
When he finally came at the last firework like notes, the Philharmonic sat there, dumbstruck. They turned to each other, not knowing where to draw the line between madness and genius. However, one voice spoke up, “Uh-huh, no way,” it was from Horseshoepin. “I refuse to believe he’s deaf!”
Getting out of his seat, he walked up to center stage. “I don’t know what you are, but there’s no way anyone or anything that could play that good and not be able to hear it!”
Ludwig pressed the earphones against his face. “Could you say that again?”
“You heard me,” he pointed a hoof at him, “This is obviously a sham.”
Beethoven quickly stood up, knocking over the small piano bench over. He was about to shout his objection until he felt something on his shoulder. It was Twilight’s aura.
“Sir,” she said as she pulled out a piece of paper, “I think that this certificate from the Ponyville hospital that sets down on paper, from three doctors of his deafness.”
“Let me see that,” Twilight did. He took hold of it to examine it carefully, even holding up to the light to see the watermark. Taking in a deep breath, he said, “Okay, let’s say for the sake of argument that, you’re right, this… thing, can’t hear without all of this stuff. Are you really saying all of that was really in his head or something?”
It was then, that Beethoven got an idea, “Actually sir, I think I can prove it, and as a matter of fact, I’ll make a deal with you. I maybe haven’t done this in a long time, I bet that if you could give me a theme, that without using these,” he took off the earphones, “or use my sight to prove that I can create music like Herr Mozart did. If I can, then you’ll be the one to perform my piano concertos.”
“So improvising while blindfolded?” the stallion raised an eyebrow. Turning to the orchestra, he asked, “What do you think everypony?”
“Who knows a sound bubble spell?” someone asked.
“I do,” Twilight raised a hoof.
“And who has a blindfold or a cloth or… something?”
“I’ve think I’ve seen one when I came in,” another member piped up.
Horseshoepin turned to him, “Okay then, if you can play that, even with the sound bubble spell over your head, I’ll believe you’re deaf, and I’ll play your music too.”
Ludwig didn’t respond.
They ended up using a small but dusty table cloth somepony found backstage to use. But before they could put it on, Frederic made Beethoven watch him play a simple foal’s song for him to improvise. Stepping back, the table cloth was folded over and placed over his eyes before Twilight surrounded his head in a violet bubble.
Hosreshoepin turned around, “And proof he isn’t deaf in three… two… one…”
Then from the piano, they’ve heard the same tune that Frederic played, and for a moment, everypony assumed that he’s just simply playing back the song. That was until Beethoven begun springing variations on a keyboard that he can’t see or hear. To everypony’s shock, the on the spot music was… flawless, as if he could see through the cloth.
The pianist craned his head over to Beethoven. He was hearing the impossible. A normal pianist, no matter how experienced, would have stumbled or messed up and try to correct the mistake in the same predicament. Yet, what he was hearing was as if it was done by a recording because of how smoothly each variation was without going back to the original beginning.
His jaw dropped, “Tha… That’s not possible.”
“Whoa, he’s good,” someone from the clarinet section commented.
“How is he doing that?” Another asked from the percussionist seat.
“Is there a speaker in the piano?”
Twilight lit up her horn to lift the lid to show that it was nothing but strings and hammers, and before anypony asked, she turned off the machine.
“I think we’ve might have found another Moztrot,” Sea Sharp said. “That’s really impressive.”
For Horseshoepin, however, all he could hear from the piano was his humiliation with each passing bar that made him look more and more like an idiot.
“Look at him go!”
“Seriously, how is he doing that?”
“Great and Powerful Trixie, eat your heart out.”
Yet, for Beethoven, it was a schizophrenic situation that not only can't he hear what he was playing, but he was in the dark too. He could feel the keys at his fingertips no doubt, but even when he played from the memory of what a piano sounded like, he couldn't be sure if he was pressing the right notes. For several minutes, he was trapped in a world of his own where his mind was in overdrive. It was a mental challenge for sure, it was like the first time he ever faced off in a musical duel again. For a moment, he felt that he was transported back not only to Vienna but in the past when he was famous for playing the piano. In the void, his mind filled it with memories of parties, of having aristocrats having him face off with another virtuoso, of the ladies that squealed and applauded at his mastery at the keyboard. Back to moments where friendships were forged, rivals were made, and where duchesses fell in love at the keyboard.
Minutes later, Ludwig played the last variation before he raised his hands to signal that he was done. Feeling the tingly feeling of Twilight’s magic off of him, he took off the cloth over his eyes to find, to his satisfaction, that the pony orchestra enjoyed what he did.
With a smug smile, he looked over to Horseshoepin, “I’ll make sure that she sends my concertos over to you to practice with.”
“Okay, that’s enough,” the conductor said. “Let’s get down to the voting – all those in favor of playing this guy’s music please signify by saying ‘Aye.’”
“Aye,” most of the members said as they raised their hooves, Octavia included.
“And those who are against say ‘Neigh.’”
“Neigh,” but they were few.
Twilight turned on the machine and placed the earphones back on his head. She went over to the microphone by the piano, “Good news Mr. Beethoven, they’ve just decided that they will play your music.”
“Good,” Ludwig nodded before turning to the orchestra, “when is your latest concert?”