Teatime - A Novel Of Twilight & Celestia

by bigbear

Chapter 5 - Music And Memories

A few minutes later, Lieutenant Steel Wing escorted Twilight and Celestia to the Royal Chariot. Four white Royal Guard pegasi pulled it this eve. Four more covered the route to the Symphony hall when it was underway.

Luna’s full moon was huge in the sky and the stars sparkled like diamonds above them. The city, ablaze with lights, was a carpet beneath them. Clever design and minor magic kept the wind to a minimum, though Celestia’s huge ever flowing mane and tail rippled behind the chariot like the tail of a phoenix.

Royal Guards secured the landing zone at the Royal Symphony Hall. Patrons lined the red carpet and cheered their princesses as they made their way to the hall. Celestia nodded to the crowd. Twilight tried to replicate her deliberate gait and regal manner but had to walk fast to keep up with Celestia’s longer legs. Luckily, Twilight’s crown stayed on straight.

Before he opened the door, Lieutenant Steel Wing said they would be greeted by Joyous Noise, the head of the Canterlot Symphony and Crimson Withers, the manager of the Symphony Hall. Twilight was glad to get the reminder, so she could thank the greeting party by name.

The greeting party led the princesses through the hall to the reception area behind the Solar Box. As Celestia had predicted, the spread of deserts in the reception room included a delicious looking tiramisu.

When a bell tinkled, Lieutenant Steel Wing opened the door to the Solar Box and stepped through. Once he was visible to the audience, the crowd stood and quieted down.

“Her Royal Majesty Princess Celestia and Her Highness Princess Twilight Sparkle.”

On their cue, the two princesses entered the Solar Box. Celestia acknowledged the crowd with a graceful nod. Twilight smiled and waved.

Lieutenant Steel Wing gestured to Vinyl Scratch, the conductor. She raised a baton in her magenta magic and the orchestra played “Equestria My Home”, the national anthem. When the piece finished, the princesses sat down, and the crowd followed.

The Solar and Lunar Boxes at the Canterlot Symphony Hall were the proverbial best seats in the house. Situated to the right and left of the stage on the lowest, or royal, tier of the balcony, the opulent boxes were two stories tall. They included a pair of oversized chaises, sized so the largest of the royal sisters would be comfortable in them. Two smaller chaises flanked these, though each was still large enough so they would comfortably fit the largest pony stallion or mare. Behind the chaises was a row of large chairs for other royal guests.

The chaises and chairs were gold with crimson cushions, though the oversized chaises were a lighter red to set them apart. Voluminous crimson drapes and gold filigree adorned the boxes. The decorators selected crimson because it was not connected with the colors of either sister.

Celestia sat in the oversized chaise on the left, while Twilight was in the oversized one on the right. It was as big as her favorite reading couch in Ponyville, and she could have easily shared the chaise with Spike with room to spare. Lieutenant Steel Wing and one of his royal guard pegasi stood at the back of the box.

From the Solar Box, Twilight could see all the ponies in their seats on the orchestra level, and in the three levels of balconies to each side. The drapes of the Lunar Box to the right of the stage were drawn, indicating it was empty this evening.

Twilight hadn’t gone to the symphony since moving to Ponyville, but Princess Celestia had taken her when she was still her personal student. That was back when there was a single Royal Box in the center of the back of the hall, instead of dual Solar and Lunar Boxes like there were now.

Twilight surveyed the orchestra. Vinyl Scratch was the conductor. Having lost her bet with Octavia, she’d co-composed the new symphony, and would lead it. Like the other musicians in the orchestra, Vinyl was wearing a colorful bow tie and starched collar. She’d put aside her trademark shades for the evening, and her magenta eyes scanned the sheet music on the stand in front of her. Vinyl’s horn was alight, and she held a baton in her magenta magic.

Vinyl’s co-composer, roommate, and the winner of their bet, Octavia Melody, was in her normal seat as First Cello in the Canterlot Symphony. Like many in the orchestra, she played standing up. An earth pony, she controlled her bow by hoof with incredible dexterity.

Twilight recognized another Ponyville resident on the same side of the orchestra. Lyra Heartstrings rarely exercised her classical training, but she’d helped Vinyl and Octavia play through the new symphony when it was still rough and now joined them in its debut. She was one of two harpists who set up behind the violins tonight.

The organization of the orchestra was unusual. Far stage right, nearest the Solar Box, was a pianist on a swivel stool, who could reach both the largest of the stringed instruments, the grand piano, and the most ethereal, a celesta. She could also reach a set of percussion blocks. Far stage left, nearest the Lunar Box, was a drummer behind a great set of kettledrums. He could also reach a set of percussion blocks. Twilight knew that blocks in classical pieces often mimicked hoof beats, but it was unusual for an orchestra to have two such musicians playing them.

The setup of the rest of the orchestra was as unfamiliar. There was a clear divide between the sections. All the strings lined up stage right and the woodwinds faced them stage left. The brass and the rest of the percussion section were to the center but behind the strings and woodwinds.

Twilight scanned the audience. There were several friends from Ponyville in attendance. None of the girls, Starlight, or Spike had made the trip, but Lyra’s roommate Bon Bon was in the front row with Mayor Mare, and the donkey couple, Cranky and Matilda.

Twilight glanced down at the program.

CANTERLOT ROYAL SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA

VINYL SCRATCH, Guest Conductor

CANTERLOT SYMPHONY HALL

Canterlot, Equestria

PROGRAM

The Return of Unity

A lost symphony, reimagined

Composed and transcribed by Octavia Melody, GRAM and Vinyl Scratch, GRAM

A symphony in four movements

The Gathering Storm - Sonata (fast)

Disunity - Adagio (slow)

Clash - Minuet

The Return of Unity - Rondo (fast)

Vinyl tapped the music stand with her baton to get the orchestra’s attention and silence the audience. She gestured at the oboe player, who sounded a pure high A note. The rest of the orchestra matched it. Vinyl nodded, satisfied that everypony was in tune. She raised her baton and brought it down. Music flowed. The symphony had started.

The opening movement, The Gathering Storm, was a rousing piece, utilizing nearly all the instruments in the orchestra. It projected an energy that easily caught the audience in the hall. Twilight leaned forward, intent on catching every nuance.

After the third verse, Twilight noticed some patterns. Two sections of the orchestra were playing in opposition to each other, woodwinds taking the lead in one verse, and the strings replying in the next. It was subtle at first, but became prominent as the movement progressed, like two herds snorting at each other before a conflict. The energy and tension of this call and response grew, and it made Twilight increasingly uncomfortable.

Then the kettledrummer hammered a powerful strike to start the second movement, and the rest of the orchestra fell silent. He sounded a slow, deliberate clop on his largest percussion block, like a single supremely powerful pony advancing at a walk. When the walk completed, the kettledrummer resumed a furious solo, which riveted the audience.

But as the drum solo climaxed, the pianist hammered her own powerful cords. Now the kettledrummer fell silent, and the pianist sounded her own slow clop on an even larger percussion block. The pianist then played her own dramatic solo, which entranced the audience again.

The kettledrummer struck up a response, and the woodwind section rose to join. The combination was more powerful than the music of the piano alone. The pianist responded, and the strings rose to join, the two combinations now projected equal authority.

The herds had found their leaders.

Twilight was on the edge of her chaise. She could taste a coppery tang in her mouth; her adrenaline was up. The situation was on a hair trigger, and she felt like anything could happen next.

The kettledrummer hammered a powerful combination, and the orchestra fell silent again. The pianist responded with equal power. The drummer sounded a single beat, and the pianist matched it with a single powerful cord. Both musicians turned to their percussion blocks and sounded a furious run.

The herds had broken into a charge.

The third movement started. Runs of the highest notes, from harps and flutes, made Twilight’s horn tingle like uncast spell forms. Violins and clarinets played accelerato, at a swiftly increasing tempo, and her wings almost buzzed in response. The bass notes from the cellos and bassoons seemed to synchronize with the beat of Twilight’s heart and made her hooves itch. Looking around the hall, Twilight realized she wasn’t the only one affected, ponies all over the audience were squirming in their chairs.

In counterpoint to the other music, a snare drum counted out a slow martial march. After every third beat of the snare drum, a cymbal crashed. After one cymbal crash, Twilight saw Lyra sit back from her harp and cross her forelegs across her lap. This seemed a curious thing to do in the middle of an energetic performance.

Checking out the orchestra, Twilight noticed several other musicians in similar poses. And every time a cymbal crashed, another joined the ranks. The depth and power of the music began to degrade. Soon, half the orchestra was sitting down, while the others played harder to make up for the losses. The orchestra could not lose any more musicians without the complex music coming apart.

The herds were at war.

The kettledrummer hammered a powerful combination, and the pianist responded with equal power. The orchestra fell silent again. Both percussion blocks sounded identical slow, deliberate clops - two gladiators advancing onto the field. The kettledrummer began a complex melody, like thunder rolling across an open field. Undeterred, the pianist played with equal power and complexity.

The leaders had joined the battle.

This music hit Twilight deep in her chest, where she’d previously felt the warmth of the sun. It felt dark… wrong. For reasons unknown, Twilight remembered casting dark magic when dealing with Sombra and the Crystal Empire. She tasted acid on her tongue.

The leader’s dueled, and the slow count of the bass drum replaced the snare. Each beat hit Twilight like a hammer and she winced each time the drummer struck another blow.

Even the powerful leaders could not take this punishment forever.

Strangely, the rest of the audience did not seem so affected. They were on the edge of their seats, but no longer squirming, nor wincing from the blows. Twilight seemed like the only one to feel it.

Or maybe she wasn’t the only one. Twilight felt a strong force on the side of her closed wing. She looked, and Celestia had reached her huge wing over the arm of the chaise and curled her primaries around it. The edges of her primaries were brushing against Twilight’s side. Celestia was gripping the arm so hard even incidental contact was powerful.

After three individual beats from the bass drum, the pianist faltered. Twilight turned back to the orchestra, just in time to see the bass drum struck with three more mighty blows, one after another. Twilight felt like she’d been beaten in an alley. There was a moment of silence before the kettledrum struck up a rousing triumphant solo.

One leader had emerged a victor.

The pianist stayed silent throughout the solo. When it was over, she struck her percussion block with a pair of tentative clops, as if a wounded pony was standing. The pianist played a sad, but resolute phrase, then switched instruments, turning to the upright celesta, unused in the symphony until now. She struck a few glorious notes. The pure ethereal sound of the celesta reverberated throughout the hall.

The pianist became engrossed in playing the celesta, the music growing in complexity and beauty. The kettledrummer took notice and tried to respond, but the beauty of the celesta would not be denied. The drummer finally faltered and the celesta was left to play an eye opening solo.

Twilight could not take her eyes off the soloist. The heavenly music filled her in ways beyond any of the previous movements. The power of the music seemed to lift her into the air. She wished her five best friends could be in the box with her right now, so they could all experience the amazing harmony of this moment, together. If she let herself go, Twilight felt like she would float off her chair.

Twilight’s eyes went wide. She’d only experienced this feeling a very few times, always with her best friends, and only when confronting Tirek… and Discord… and…

“Oh, no” she mouthed.

The music from the celesta reached its climax. A drummer in the back of the symphony hit the great gong like a lightning bolt and kept hitting it. The hall filled with its thunder. Twilight gasped, and she wasn’t the only member of the audience to do so. The rolling roar of the gong held the audience in its spell.

And as the gong sounded, the kettledrummer got up from his instrument, bowed to the audience, and calmly walked off stage.

Twilight caught movement in the corner of her eye and saw Lieutenant Steel Wing advanced to Celestia. They whispered, and then Celestia’s horn lit. She used her magic to slam closed the curtains to isolate the Solar Box, then seal it with a silence spell.

With apparent effort, Celestia stood. “Twilight, I must return to the castle. It’s urgent, but not an emergency.” Her voice was monotone, kept even through a massive application of will. There was deep pain in her eyes. “Please stay for the conclusion of the symphony and tell the musicians that I applaud their… great skill. Their work was… quite affecting.”

Before Twilight could reply, Celestia nodded to the Lieutenant, then engulfed herself in a blinding yellow flash. When Twilight could see again, Celestia was gone.

Shaken, Twilight turned to Steel Wing. “What should I do?”

“I recommend you do as our sovereign requests, Princess Twilight.” Lieutenant Steel Wing nodded his head and then said, “By your leave?” Reflexively, Twilight nodded back. Before she could process what had happened, the Lieutenant slipped out of the door to the Solar Box. Another member of the Royal Guard took his place.

“How could I have been so stupid,” Twilight whispered to herself. “Making Celestia relive banishing her sister. And nothing hammers a memory home, like music.”

These ponies had hurt Celestia. Without meaning to, without even knowing they were doing it. But all of them had hurt Celestia.

And she’d hurt Celestia by bringing her here.

Twilight pranced in place, eyes searching from side to side. With the great curtains closed, the box was stifling, a gilded cage in shades of crimson. It would have been easy to panic.

“This isn’t getting me anywhere.” Twilight put a hoof to her chest, took in a deep breath, held it for a count, and then blew it out. She swept her hoof away, sending the tension away with it. “Thank you Cadance,” she thought. The ritual her sister-in-law had taught always helped Twilight get calm.

“Stay for the conclusion of the symphony…” she thought. “...do as our sovereign requests.” There was nothing that Twilight wanted to do more than rush to the castle to try and make up for what she’d done. Her heart ached to simply teleport after Celestia.

But that is not what Celestia had asked her to do. The Princess had reminded Twilight that she had a duty, to her friends who created the symphony, to the musicians who had performed it, and even to the audience. For both princesses to leave in the middle of a work without explanation would be a royal rebuke of the highest order. It could devastate friendships, careers, even lives.

“Time for the duty part of being a princess,” she decided. “It’s my penance for the pain I’ve caused. But as soon as this is over, I’m going after Celestia.”

Twilight sat straight on her chaise and smoothed her mane and feathers. She dispelled the silence spell and parted the curtains. The entire incident had only taken a few moments, and the last roar of the gong was just fading away. So riveted was the audience, that few noticed the activity in the Solar Box.

The fourth movement, The Return of Unity, was a rousing affair. It started slow, as strings and woodwinds played tentatively together. But one by one, the seated musicians took up their instruments again. The antagonists joined their music together. The brass and percussion blended into the music, rather than standing outside of it. The resulting music got faster, more inspiring, and even more powerful than before. Stripped of its disunity, the music no longer caused disquiet but filled the audience with pride and energy.

Twilight was sure the pegasi felt like they could fly to the moon, the unicorns like they could levitate mountains, and the earth ponies like they could gallop to the horizon. But she could partake in none of it. Every swelling refrain reminded her that she was here and not with Celestia, who was hurting.

After the final note played, the audience stomped so hard, it felt like the roof was going to fall in. The entire orchestra took bow after bow, as did the conductor, her co-composer, and each of the soloists. In each case, the audience stomped enthusiastically, while Twilight kept on her best princess smile, clapped her hooves gracefully, nodded sagely, and fervently wished she were somewhere else.

Once the musicians had taken their final bow, Twilight nodded to them one last time, turned and exited the Solar Box into the reception room behind it. As soon as the door closed, she turned to the nearest guard. “I’m teleporting back to the castle on my own. If anypony asks why you’re bringing the chariot back empty, tell them I had to deal with something that was urgent, but not an emergency.” The guard saluted in acknowledgment.

A moment later, Twilight summoned a magenta sphere about herself and disappeared.

Comments

[bigbear]

8102421 I assume in Ponyville, the hoof trimming portion of the farrier’s tasks are handled by Lotus Blossom and Aloe, at the Ponyville Day Spa. The spa ponies likely help keep the hooves of lots of working ponies healthy as well as providing hooficures to beautify. I’ll bet somepony at the spa also does preening (Do you think it might be Bulk?)

Meticulous Hammer does hoof care as well as making and maintaining the princess’s hoof boots. He is a full service farrier. It was fun writing Miti as a Sherlock Holmes like savant, telling Twilight details about about her life, just by looking at her hooves (and likely the rest of her legs and body as well).

[RoyalBardofCanterlot]

Imagine living so long that the time you got in a fight with your sister becomes part of a culture's mythology, inspiring everything from their art to their music. Celestia can't very well tell them to stop, but wow, that must make it hard to move on.

[MooseWhisker]

Composer here. I adore this story (this is my second time reading it). Just a few notes on the way you describe the music in this chapter (pun not intended). This is about to get really nitpicky and pretentious.

For the first movement of the concert, the program indicated that it is a sonata, but in the description of the music, you said that there was a “third verse.” The term “sonata” is used to describe a form that music is written in, and it doesn’t have verses. Basically a sonata is made up of 3 larger sections, with the last mirroring the first. There’s a bit more too it than that, but I’m not sure me going into more detail would be an effective use of time.

The program describes the third movement as a minuet, which generally indicated a dance in triple meter (3/4 time). You followed this up in the description of tge piece by having the crash cymbals play after every third snare beat, which is something that could conceivably be done in triple meter, so good job on that!

At one point you used the word “counterpoint” to describe the relationship between the snare and the rest of the ensemble. While this is technically not incorrect, I would think the better term to use would be “contrast.” In music, the term “counterpoint” refers to two separate melodic lines being played simultaneously to make harmony, with neither being subservient to the other (this could be a useful term if you need to describe music in the future again).

You also had the kettledrums described as having a complex melody. That’s not really feasible on the kettledrums (also called “timpani”). Usually the timpanist will have 4 timpani, and on some rare occasions 5, but almost never any more than that. This makes it difficult for the timpani to have a complex melody, and though they are able to be tuned, to do so with speed and precision is extremely difficult (for example, I’ve been a percussionist for around 10 years now, and I can’t retune the timpani very quickly, while playing them). That being said, I think timpani is the best choice for and instrument to rival the piano, and it’s a bit unfortunate that there really isn’t a better option, as most other solo instruments are quieter, and most other loud instruments are used in the orchestra already. The only other thing I could think of is potentially an electric guitar, but that doesn’t really fit with the orchestra. I think you made a good choice given the circumstances, and that’s really what matters.

In an orchestral setting call the people that play drums/cymbals/mallets percussionists. Drummers are in rock/jazz bands. It’s a small thing, but it’ll annoy most percussionists to be called “drummers.”

Overall I really enjoyed your description of the symphony, minor errors and all. I love how you used the music as a way to deliver the character development, as it’s not something I’ve ever seen before. This chapter was great and I’m looking forward to reading the rest of the story in the coming days!