• Published 31st Aug 2014
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The Gentle Nights: Audience of One - PaulAsaran



A chance meeting at a ruined gala leads to opportunity. Luna longs to recover from her isolation and the shadows of her past, and she clings to the one pony whose music provides her comfort. She might not be the only benefactor in the arrangement...

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Hickicāhaṭ

The Gentle Nights
Audience of One

Chapter VI
Hickicāhaṭ

Octavia kept her head low as she walked behind the servant. They passed through a tall hall of pearly marble walls and gorgeous chandeliers, the floor a solid grey stone that felt good on her hooves. It wasn’t the first time she’d walked these grounds, but she felt no less like a trespasser.

Her gaze roamed to a large family portrait, every pony in the picture having raised muzzles and holier-than-thou frowns. Most of them took the image to heart, but there were a few ponies in there that Octavia knew were only putting on a show. Beauty’s firm frown stood out near the center, but her eyebrows were raised and her lips were a little too thin. She was probably trying to keep from laughing.

“Miss Melody has arrived,” the servant announced, not even bothering to hide his austere disdain.

“Octy!” Beauty set aside her sheet music and hurried to give Octavia a hug. “This is a real surprise.”

Octavia grinned and returned the gesture. She spoke as they separated, “It was a last minute decision. I needed to talk with somepony.”

“And you got two.”

She looked up to find Parish approaching, his harp set up by the window. The two hugged as he said, “Glad to see you’re actually getting out of that apartment.”

“Yes, well…” She fidgeted and glanced between them. “What are you doing here, if I might ask?”

“Me and Parish are working the same concert in Fillydelphia next week,” Beauty said, gesturing for them to follow her to a nearby table. “We were just about to practice together.” She grabbed her sousaphone case off the table and set it by a window as her guests sat. “If you’d hang around more often you’d have known, y’know.”

Octavia blushed as she and Parish settled on individual cushions. “Err, sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Parish said as Beauty took a seat. “We’re just glad to see you at all.”

Beauty half-raised her hoof towards a nearby servant as she asked, “Tea?” Her guests nodded, and she turned to make a simple gesture. The servant disappeared with a sharp bow of the head.

“So tell me,” she said as she turned back to the table, “what brings the lofty Miss Melody to my humble abode?”

“Hardly humble,” Octavia muttered, glancing at the breathtaking garden filled with statues just out the window.

“What, this?” Beauty blushed and rolled her eyes. “Believe me, if it was feasible to move out, I would. It’d break my mom’s heart, though, so here I stay.”

“At least it’s not like that mansion Blueblood has,” Parish said. “I mean seriously, have you seen that place? I never want to do a job there again. It gets creepy seeing his statue grinning at me from every nook and cranny.”

Beauty shook her head. “Actually, I think most of those are his ancestors. The Bluebloods have a significant lineage.”

“And they all look the same.” He pounded the table. “Aha, inbreeding! That explains everything!”

Octavia chuckled. “I seriously doubt the Bluebloods are inbred, Parish, although I suppose it would explain some things.”

He waved his hooves at her. “I know, right?”

Beauty leaned over the table to study Octavia. “So… what did you want to talk about, hmm?”

Octavia glanced at her, then at Parish. Her stomach flopped as she considered the situation. “Umm… nothing in particular. I just wanted to—”

“Ah-ah.” Parish pointed at her while turning to Beauty. “You see the way her muzzle turns up and her eyebrows get low?”

Beauty nodded, waving her hoof at the air in slow circles. “And the way her tone mellows out to become niiiiice and even.”

Octavia stared at them for a couple seconds. “What are you two talking about?”

Parish, his manner professional, gestured to her while leaning towards Beauty. “And then she feigns ignorance.”

Beauty nodded curtly, muzzle high. “Note the way she keeps glancing at you.”

“Oh, that?” Parish chuckled. “That’s just her latent attraction to me coming out.”

Octavia’s shoulders slumped as she stared at them with a deadpan frown. “Okay, stop it.”

The two shared a triumphant grin. Parish leaned towards her. “Gonna come clean, then?”

“What did you really come here for, Octy?” Beauty beckoned with her hoof.

Octavia shot Parish a glower. “I didn’t want to say anything with you around, knowing how you’d respond.”

He slapped a hoof over his heart in mock distress. “Why Octavia, you wound me!”

“Your tea, madame.”

The three shared chuckles as the servant set teacups down for each of them. Octavia wasted no time taking a sip, letting the hot liquid linger on her lips to buy some time to think. Beauty and Parish were watching her like two foals waiting for their Hearth’s Warming presents.

At last she let the cup down. “Beauty, do you remember that… ‘special client’ I mentioned?”

Beauty’s eyes narrowed. “Him? Yeah, I remember.”

“Well I don’t.” Parish looked to each of the mares in turn. “Clue me in?”

“Octy got a special request to perform solo for a single patron,” Beauty explained. Her serious expression made Octavia fidget.

Parish tilted his head. “A single patron?”

“As in one pony,” Octavia told him, her eyes sharp as she prepared for his potential response. “I performed for a single pony.”

“Oh.” He blinked a couple times, thinking on this. His shoulders abruptly sagged. “I see. That’s… that’s something.”

“Octavia.” Beauty peered at her. “Did you perform for him again?”

“No…” Octavia tapped her hooves together with a blush; dreams didn’t count, right? “A meeting has been requested, though.”

“‘A meeting has been requested.’ That’s a very clinical way of putting it.” Beauty eyed Octavia with a frown. “Why do I get the impression you don’t want to go?”

Octavia toyed with her teacup, head bowed. “It’s not that I don’t want to go...”

Parish tensed. “You’re not afraid he’s going to do something, are you?”

She sighed and shot him a hard look. “It’s not like that.”

His eyes narrowed. “No?”

“No!” She leaned back a little and rubbed her forehead. “It’s just… I don’t know. I have no idea what’s going to happen.”

Beauty cocked her head to one side. “You just said it’s ‘not like that,’ but you don’t know what’s going to happen?”

Another sigh. “I know it’s not that, okay? I know what it isn’t, but I don’t know what it is.”

Parish rubbed the back of his head. “I’m confused.”

“Me too,” Octavia muttered, slumping over her tea. “I feel like this pony has been watching me for a long time, yet there’s nothing ‘dangerous’ about the situation.”

The three of them remained silent for some time. Octavia spent it staring into her teacup and fidgeting. She found herself wanting to go home, grab her cello and play all day and night. She could say she got lost in the music. It happened often enough.

Yet she kept seeing Luna’s tear-streaked face in her mind’s eye…

“I think I see what’s going on here,” Beauty said.

Octavia looked up from her tea, not bothering to recover from her slouch. “You do?”

“You do?” Parish repeated with a frown.

Beauty nodded, her expression regal as she pointed at Octavia. “You have no reason not to go, but you want one. You’re hoping one of us will justify you hiding away in your apartment instead of going to see this pony.”

Octavia’s jaw dropped and she glanced away. She saw Parish’s eyebrows rise as he turned to give her a curious look. “That’s… that’s not—”

“Actually,” Parish said, “that makes perfect sense, considering this is you we’re talking about.”

“Face it, Octy, you’re a total introvert.” Beauty smiled and reached over to pat Octavia’s foreleg. “You’re out of your comfort zone. It’s okay.”

Parish grinned. “Beauty’s right. You’re getting anxious because a fan wants to do more than just sit in the audience and listen.”

Octavia’s gaze retreated into her teacup again. “F-fan? I guess that’s accurate.” Calling the princess a ‘fan’ still felt extremely odd. “But it’s not like I’m trying to avoid this.”

Beauty huffed and leaned back with a lecturing frown. “Really? Tell me this, Octavia: how many friends do you have?”

“Friends?” She tilted her head. “I’m not sure what you’re getting at.”

Beauty set a hoof to her chest. “You’ve got me because I saw you were lonely and wouldn’t stop pestering you.”

“I’m not lone—”

Beauty set a hoof to Parish’s shoulder. “You’ve got Parish ‘cause he thinks you’ve got a hot flank.”

The blood rushed to Parish’s cheeks as he swatted her hoof away. “That’s not—” He sputtered, wide eyes darting to Octavia. “That’s not the, uh… not the only reason.”

Despite the anxiety she still felt, Octavia couldn’t help smirking. “Nice save, Parish.”

He ducked his head and raised his cup to hide his face.

Beauty chuckled, then twirled her hoof in the air. “You’ve got Vanilla von Scratchington because you were stuck together as roomies in college for four years.”

Octavia winced, suddenly recalling that she had yet to read Vinyl’s sheet music.

“Other than that?” Beauty raised an eyebrow and gestured to Octavia.

“Umm… well…” Octavia averted her gaze as her stomach seemed to sink into her cushion. “I’m still writing Frederick. That counts.”

Parish, having recovered now that the attention wasn’t on him, shook his head. “It’s not the same. She’s talking about ponies you can meet face-to-face… and you really don’t do that with us much, come to think of it.”

Octavia’s ears lowered as she took a quick sip from her teacup.

Beauty batted Parish on the back of the head. “Hush, you! She’s doing really good, all things considered. She did decide to come out of her lair and ask us about this.”

“Ask you about this, y’mean.” Parish was rewarded with another whack on the back of the head. “What?”

Octavia wrinkled her muzzle. “My ‘lair?’” She considered her apartment for a moment, then glanced at the marble columns and tall windows surrounding her. She sighed and bowed her head. “Yeah, I guess that’s a good term.”

Beauty frowned, but recovered her smile quickly. “Listen, as long as you think it’s safe, you should go.”

“She’s right.” Parish rubbed the back of his head with a wince. “You should try it out. Making more friends is never a bad thing.”

Octavia wilted and stared into her teacup. None of them spoke for some time.

Beauty sighed. “Octavia, why are you so afraid to go out and do stuff with ponies?”

She shifted on her cushion. “I don’t know.”

Parish and Beauty exchanged concerned glances.

Parish reached forward to touch Octavia’s foreleg. “Look, nopony’s going to force you into doing something you don’t want to.”

Beauty copied the motion with a weak smile. “But the fact that you don’t concerns us, Octy.”

Parish nodded. “Going to meet this guy would be good for you. Even if he steals my mare.”

Beauty shot him a scowl, but then blinked and turned back to Octavia. “You know what? I was wrong.”

Octavia, chest tight, glanced up at her.

“You didn’t come here because you want an excuse not to go,” Beauty declared. “You came to us because you don’t want to, but know you need to.”

The butterflies in Octavia’s stomach faded as she puzzled over this. “What?”

“Yeah, ‘what?’” Parish raised an eyebrow at Beauty. “Now you’ve got me confused too.”

Beauty ignored him, smiling as she sipped her tea. “Octy, I saw it when we had lunch together the other day; you’re not happy. Is it because you’re lonely?”

Not happy? Well, Octavia couldn’t honestly deny it, could she? But regarding why…

She shrugged.

“I think you are,” Beauty said. “Deep down, you want to go meet this pony, but your determined introversion is getting in the way.”

“Well, if you are lonely,” Parish added with a lecturing frown, “you could always spend more time with us.”

Octavia leaned against the table, a hoof pressed to her cheek. “I’m sorry about that, okay?”

“It’s alright, Octy,” Beauty assured her. “We get it, really. We just think you take the whole isolation thing a little too far, that’s all.”

She sighed and nodded, her hoof tracing the edge of her teacup. She couldn’t look either of them in the eye. Another long silence passed over them.

Parish sat back and crossed his forehooves. “Alright, if you won’t commit one way or another, then let me do it for you: go meet this guy.”

Octavia raised her head to study him. “You mean you’re ordering me to go?”

“Yes, I am.” He leveled her with a grim frown. “Go tonight, and if you still don’t like it then you’ll never have to see him again.”

“It’s a ‘she,’ Parish.”

He blinked, remained perfectly still…. Then abruptly sagged, the air released from his lungs as if he’d just swam out of deep water. “Oh, thank Celestia!”

Whap.

He clutched the back of his head and glared at Beauty. “Would you stop that for, like, five minutes? It’s starting to get sore.”

“Obviously, Parish is a dork.” Beauty turned to smile upon Octavia. “This time, though, I like his idea. Go. Don’t think about it, don’t mull over it, just go. If you don’t make a friend, that’s fine, but at least you got out and did something.”

Octavia tapped her hooves together once more. “If you really think so…”

“We don’t think so,” Beauty said.

“We know so,” Parish concluded.

Octavia sighed and sat up properly. “Well… thanks, I guess.”

Parish tilted his head. “You sound disappointed.”

“Don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate the advice,” she replied. “I honestly had no idea what to expect when I decided come here. I just needed to talk to somepony.”

Beauty nodded with a smile. “And you can come to either of us at any time for that, day or night. We’re here for you, Octy.”

Parish grinned. “Right! Talk, shoulder to cry on, have some fun, whatever you’re after. Don’t be afraid to come by.”

“And I bet that rambunctious neighbor of yours would say the same thing,” Beauty added with a firm nod. “It’s what friends do.”

Despite herself, Octavia smiled. “Thanks, you two. Really. Just bear with me. I’ll figure this whole ‘friendship’ thing out eventually.”

“Glad to hear it.” Beauty stood and tapped her sousaphone case. “So, you wanna be our audience for practice?”

Parish nodded enthusiastically. “We could always use a critic.”

Instinct told Octavia to say ‘no.’

She pushed it down with a grin. “Sure, I’d love to.”


Octavia’s stomach was performing a dance routine as she followed the royal guard through the dark halls of the Southern Wing. The entire place was engulfed in that dim light like she’d seen at the theatre, the small crystals occasionally pulsing to some unknown trigger. Their hoofsteps echoed loudly in her ears, the only sound apart from the shifting of her cello case. Funny, she’d not noticed that sound in ages.

The royal guard, his expression as stoic as ever, paused before a pair of large double-doors and knocked. “Octavia Melody, to see the princess.” He wasted no time pushing the door open.

Octavia took a moment to gather her courage and glanced inside. The room, bedecked in a soothing midnight blue décor, appeared to be a lounge. She saw a quartet of large cushions next to some thin but tall windows, at least five bookcases, a large dining table and a fireplace that emitted a bright glow.

Princess Luna was nowhere to be seen.

She turned to the royal guard. “Umm… am I supposed to wait for her?”

He blinked, then looked inside himself. His veneer cracked just a touch as he frowned. “I guess so. My orders were to deliver you to her quarters promptly. I can only assume she is in one of the adjacent rooms.”

“Oh.” Octavia’s ears tucked as she examined the room again. “So this is where the princess lives.”

“I’m sure she’ll see to you shortly,” the royal guard said, tapping his hoof. Octavia glanced at him and wondered at his hurried manner. She nodded to him and stepped inside; the door closed so quickly it almost caught her tail.

The performance in Octavia’s stomach kicked into overdrive as she stood by the door with no idea what to do. She chewed her lip and slowly turned her head to take in the room. It was actually very nice, the dark tones a comfort for her eyes.

Octavia removed her cello case, resting it as carefully as she could by the door. Would it be considered rude to call out for Princess Luna? Octavia had no intention of finding out, but she couldn’t just stand there waiting, so she began to pace.

She examined the great paintings on the walls, most depicting pristine nighttime scenery. One showed a portrait of a pair of alicorns unfamiliar to Octavia’s memory, which warranted extra attention.

They were a couple, she realized. The stallion shared Luna’s coat and had a dark green mane with a flowing appearance like water; it actually appeared to drip from his shoulders. The mare was a pale red, her orange mane rising from her head almost as if it were made from wind. They both gazed upon Octavia with small smiles.

Octavia studied the picture for a few seconds. Where these alicorns related to the princesses? Their parents perhaps? Octavia had never even considered the possibility that Princess Celestia and Princess Luna had parents. Now that the thought was there, it struck her as a silly oversight.

She moved on, examining the bookshelves and finding tomes on astronomy – several written by Princess Luna herself – philosophy and the arts. A whole bookcase was devoted to magical theory, and another to world history. She was surprised to find more than half a bookcase filled with military treatises, studies on conflicts throughout the world, army logistics and even espionage.

What really caught her attention, however, was the discovery of two shelves devoted to music. She skimmed the titles and felt a small thrill at the realization that most of them focused on the Classical Resurgence period, also referred to as the Second Classical Age. How interesting it was that the princess seemed to prefer Octavia’s favorite musical time period. The only thing keeping her from perusing the titles was a distinct awareness that she probably shouldn’t touch anything at all without direct permission.

By now Octavia had circled the entire room. She glanced about, wondering when Princess Luna intended to show. There was a doorless opening nearby, and Octavia approached it. She glanced inside the next room and saw that it was less densely furnished; a few more bookshelves and pictures, two substantially sized couches and, sitting in one corner, a suit of armor.

Would it be improper to explore a little further? Octavia shifted from hoof to hoof as she struggled with her indecision, but finally stepped into the room.

The first thing she did was approach the armor. It was blue and just a little menacing, and Octavia had the strangest feeling like she recognized it. From a book? Perhaps.

There was a flash of light outside. Octavia walked to the window and gazed up at the night sky to find Princess Luna descending rapidly towards the castle. Sucking down a sharp breath, she hurried back to the main room and sat beside her cello. Her heart pattered against her chest as she pondered what the princess might want with her, but nothing she thought of made sense. What could one of the monarchs of Equestria possibly desire?

Her ears perked to the sound of hoofsteps in one of the adjacent rooms. She sucked down a deep, calming breath and turned to the closed door, determined to appear professional in spite of her out-of-control thoughts.

It was several anxious seconds before the door opened. Princess Luna stepped into the room, her face set in a firm frown and her eyes focused as if she were viewing something in the distance. She passed by with wings twitching and tail flicking, and didn’t seem to even notice Octavia.

Then, abruptly, she paused and raised her head. It turned back over her shoulder and her hard eyes locked with Octavia’s.

Octavia flinched under that gaze. Her chest tightened as she wondered if she’d come at a bad time… even if she’d been invited.

Yet Princess Luna’s gaze softened and her eyebrows rose. “Oh, Miss Melody. Forgive me, I lost track of the time.”

Upon realizing that her professional veneer had been lost, Octavia rapidly bowed. “I c-can come back later, if you’d prefer.”

“No.” The princess turned to her with a small smile. “You are not interrupting anything. I merely felt the pull of… a particularly strong nightmare and had to see to it. I apologize for keeping you waiting.”

“Not at all.” Octavia rose and offered a weak smile. “I… um… brought my cello, just in case.”

“It is appreciated.” The princess frowned and tilted her head. “And… there is no need to bow while you are here. This is a very informal visit.”

Octavia blinked as she tried to take that in. “Of… Of course, princess.”

Princess Luna set a hoof to her chin and considered her guest. “Just Luna tonight, if you please.”

Another few blinks. “Um, as you wish… Luna.” Her lips twisted around the name; not using the title felt about the same to her as trying to write a ballad without a lead.

Luna nodded before gesturing to the open doorway to the left. “Come, let us get comfortable. Can I get you anything? A little wine perhaps, or a bite to eat?”

“N-no, thank you.” Octavia reached for her instrument.

“You may leave the cello there, if you wish.”

Octavia’s ears folded as Luna turned for the door. She glanced back at the cello and wondered if she should take it. After a moment’s hesitation, she grabbed it. Maybe it was for the comfort of something familiar.

Luna lay atop one of the couches in the next room and gestured invitingly. Octavia followed her lead and sat on the opposite couch, setting her cello on the cushions next to her.

“It pleases me that you decided to come,” Luna said with a smile. “You must have many questions.”

A moment of silence passed, and Octavia abruptly realized she was supposed to respond. “Well… yes, actually.” Her eyes went to her cello, then back to Luna. She fidgeted and tapped her hooves together. “Um, I don’t mean to be rude…”

“Let me guess.” Luna leaned forward, her eyebrows raised in an expectant expression. “Your first question would be: ‘why am I here?’ Correct?”

Octavia wilted a little and nodded.

“Hmm… how to answer?” Luna lowered her head slightly, brow furrowing in thought. She remained like that for a few seconds, leaving Octavia to battle the butterflies in her stomach.

At last, Luna looked up. Octavia was surprised to see that she was blushing and her eyes were doing that increasingly familiar dance.

“It’s not so easy to explain. I assure you, this is a very awkward moment for us both… but I suppose I did take the first step.”

She nodded, as if to confirm something to herself, then finally looked into Octavia’s eyes.

“I am seeking something that I have not had in… well, a millennium. Miss Melody, if you don’t consider it too forward, I would like to meet you on a regular basis starting tonight.”

Octavia leaned back, her eyes wide. “A regular basis? Pri— Luna, why? What do I offer that warrants such a thing?”

“Comfort,” Luna replied. Though her voice was soft, her eyes held Octavia’s firmly in place. “My return to Equestria has been difficult. There are many things that I still need to adjust to, and the public has yet to…”

She paused, her eyes finally turning away. She gained a small frown as she considered her words. “I mean… my name is… Of course, I’m not her, but…” She pressed her lips tightly together, her head bowing as her eyes narrowed.

Octavia tilted her head at this strange behavior. “Princess?”

“Luna,” the princess whispered without moving. “Please, just Luna.”

“O-okay.”

Luna shook her head and grimaced. “I want… Why is it so hard to say? I want…”

She locked eyes with Octavia once more. “A friend. I want a friend.”

“A frie—” Octavia’s throat constricted, and she had to pause to recover as she stared into those brilliant cyan eyes. “You want me to be your friend?”

Luna averted her gaze with a blush. “You disapprove?”

“No!” Octavia shook her head and forced her tone down. “No, it’s just that this is entirely unexpected. I don’t understand why you’d ask me.”

At this, Luna smiled. “Because you were kind to me. Do you remember the gala, Miss Melody?”

Octavia cringed. “Unfortunately.”

Luna’s smile broadened, but only a little. “Yes, it was rather… memorable. I only watched it from a distance, but what I witnessed was quite the sight.”

“Wait.” Octavia tapped her chin as she thought back. “You mean you weren’t actually attending the gala that night?”

“No.” Luna turned her gaze away once more, her expression becoming grim. “My sister tried to convince me to attend, but I chose not to.” She looked back to Octavia. “But for this I am grateful, because I met you. Tell me, Miss Melody, did you fear me then?”

Octavia’s jaw hung loose. How was she supposed to answer that? “I… umm…” She bowed her head and tapped her hooves together. “Not you you, but… how to put it?”

Luna’s face stiffened. “I will not take offense if the answer is ‘yes.’”

“It’s… It’s like…” Octavia brushed her mane back as she fought for a proper answer. “It’s like how I feel right now. I’m afraid, but not of you. My anxiety has more to do with not wanting to do the wrong thing.”

She finally looked to the princess. “What if I say something I shouldn’t? What if I offend you in some way? What if I don’t even deserve to be here? That’s the kind of fear I have now… and then.”

That hard expression faded as Luna’s eyebrows rose. She stared at Octavia, lips working silently for several long seconds.

Then she threw her head back and laughed. It came so suddenly that it made Octavia jump.

“I’m sorry!” Luna giggled and set a hoof over her face with a blush. “It’s just that I’ve been thinking all this time that you had been afraid of me, and this? Clearly a thousand years of exile has ruined my ability to read ponies.”

Octavia fidgeted. “I see?”

Luna at last recovered from her giggles. She leveled Octavia with a broad smile. “Please, Miss Melody, speak plainly. I promise, I won’t be throwing you into any dungeons for stating what is on your mind. In fact, I ask of you: hold nothing back. I’d like this to be a candid discussion.”

Octavia gaped at the princess and realized she was completely serious. “So you really want me to speak my mind?”

“Of course.” Luna nodded eagerly. “Go on, speak up. Whatever you wish to say, do so.”

“Well, in that case… I mean, if you’re really sure?” Octavia waited for some kind of retraction, but Luna only gestured for her to continue. Chest tight, she considered what to say.

“I… I don’t understand why you chose me,” she admitted at last. “You picked me out from a single meeting at the gala?”

Luna blushed. “In a sense. I did love Tārā Sapnā, but the other music you perform is also quite pleasurable.”

Octavia’s jaw dropped. “You mean you’ve been watching me? At what venues?”

The blush deepened. Luna hesitated, but slowly reached up to tap the side of her own head. “This one.”

“I don’t under—” Octavia blinked. “My dreams. Have you been spying on my dreams?”

The princess cringed. “‘Spying’ is a rather strong word. I was only seeking comfort through your music.”

Octavia ducked her head a little at this news. “H-how long have you been watching me? Since the gala?”

“Well… yes.” Luna nodded, a lopsided smile accompanying her pink cheeks. “Your preferred music is from a time that I regret having missed, and—”

“Princess.”

Luna went silent. Though Octavia was still sunk low, the princess was paying rapt attention.

“I am a very private pony,” Octavia said, her words quiet and slow even though her heart raced. “I don’t appreciate being spied upon when I’m at my most vulnerable. I gather that your ‘nightmare patrol’ is to help ponies, but this feels different… invasive.”

Luna stared at her for some time, her lips parted in a small ‘o.’ She bowed her head and her eyes began their dance around the room.

“I see. I suppose I should have known such was a possibility. Forgive me my rudeness.”

“But I still want to know why,” Octavia pressed, still in her hesitant posture. “Why my dreams? Surely there are other ponies out there whose music you enjoy. Ponies more famous, ponies more worthy, ponies who are more…” She sought the right word, lips fumbling. “…more open.”

Luna’s lips dipped into a frown as she gazed at the floor, her shoulders sagging. “No, Miss Melody. There are no ponies like you, or at least, none that I have found. I apologize. I didn’t mean to intrude, I only…”

She finally met Octavia’s eyes, and her own were moist. “I only wanted to find a little solace. I had no other place to go.”

Octavia sat up at last, taking in Luna’s forlorn appearance. “Princess?”

Luna!”

Octavia jumped at the shout, her eyes going wide as the princess covered her face and turned away.

“Call me Luna. Please… call me Luna. I want at least one pony who can forgive that I tried to murder my sister a thousand years ago, or the fact that I twice nearly destroyed the world in an eternal night, or that my dark side kept haunting ponies dreams for a millenium. I know ponies are afraid of me. I understand that. I deserve it. But… but can’t I have a normal relationship with somepony? Is that really too much to ask?”

The princess went silent, and Octavia could only stare. There were no tears, but Luna’s shoulders rose and fell with her deep breaths and she kept her face covered beneath her hooves. After a moment her wings curled forward, hiding her from view.

It was some time before Octavia snapped out of her daze. She didn’t know what to say, but she carefully climbed off her couch and approached. Her ears were folded as she sat beside Luna’s couch, eyes roaming those luxurious wings.

She had to work her lips a few times to get the name out without the title. “L… Luna?”

At first there was no answer… but then the wing lowered. Luna’s shining eyes met hers from just over the feathers, and the sight of those cyan orbs was like a knife in Octavia’s chest.

They held that gaze for a long time.

Octavia’s lips trembled upwards. “If I have to call you Luna… then you have to call me Octavia.”

Luna stared unmoving for a couple extra seconds, then her wing slowly folded back to her side. She smiled.

“I can live with that arrangement.”

Octavia glanced at her hooves with a blush. “And I don’t mind if you visit my dreams, just so long as I know you’re there. No more spying. Please?”

“I apologize again,” Luna whispered. “I was afraid you would not welcome me at all… so I hid. I didn’t want to lose the one comfort I have in this new age.”

“The one comfort?” Octavia looked up at Luna. “What about your sister? Surely there’s something other than my music.”

Luna sagged and turned her eyes to the windows. “Celestia tries, but there is a rift between us. Nopony else wishes to even be in the same room as me. No, M—Octavia, I am alone.”

“Oh…”

Octavia bowed her head to think on this information. She felt pity… but something else too. She wasn’t sure what it was; a rising sensation in her chest that didn’t seem to belong. She shuffled her hooves as she pondered it. Whatever it was, it guided her words.

“To be perfectly honest, I don’t know anything about being a friend.” She looked up to find Luna watching her with curious eyes. “I’ve never been very good at it, but maybe that’s okay.”

She offered the princess a weak smile. “Maybe, through this, you can remember what it’s like to have one… and I can learn what it is to be one.”

Luna returned the smile, her eyes shining. “That sounds like a good plan.”

“Then it’s settled. If you’ll permit me making this just a little formal…” Octavia bowed before Luna. “Princess, it would be my honor to be your friend.”

When Octavia looked up, it was to find Luna bowing her head so that her horn gently rested on her shoulder.

“I thank you, Miss Melody. Your kindness is most appreciated.”

Luna grinned as she raised her head once more. “And now I must expressly forbid you from any additional formalities during these private meetings, lest I throw you in the dungeons.”

Octavia threw her hooves to the sky and let out an exaggerated scoff. “Fine, if you really must take the class out of everything.”

There was no laughter, but they shared amused grins as Octavia walked back to her couch.

“I feel like a student all over again,” Luna said with a chuckle. “Perhaps I should write to my sister’s protégé for advice on friendship.”

Octavia set a hoof to her cello case as she turned to the princess. “How about we commemorate this moment with some music?”

Luna nodded, her smile broadening. “I would like that.

“I would like that very much.”

Author's Note:

Hickicāhaṭ: Indecision

I finally brought up the main flaw of Octavia: her extreme introvertedness. This is an easy thing to write about, because it happens to be my own biggest problem. For those of you thinking it, it's not the same thing as being antisocial. As this story goes on, I hope to expand upon this nature of Octavia's personality quite a bit.

Here's hoping I can pull off another chapter for next weekend!