Old Friends
“Octavia, please, tell me what’s going on. I’m worried about you.”
They were at a fancy restaurant, concealed in a back booth. The salads had arrived and Octavia was eating – primly, yet clearly still hungrily. It had been, Lyra thought, far too long since Octavia had eaten a full meal.
“There is little to tell. The Duke discovered that I was helping Lulamoon.” Octavia sighed. “At least, I surmise that is what happened. All I know is that, a few days after contacting her about Moonlit, he would not see me, and I found myself scheduled to play the Symphony for Moon and Sun. It was in every paper and on every bulletin board in the city. An impersonator of me even gave a brief press conference and swore that she would not only play the piece, but would move the Princess to tears. There was no possible way to head off that lie before every pony in the city believed it.”
“Wait. Why did you help Trixie? I thought you hated her.”
“I do. It was not for her sake. I was… convinced by a certain friend… that I might be able to do something for you, to make up in some small way for my betrayal. I wrote Lulamoon to tell her when Greengrass was sending agents to Ponyville; that was how she knew of Flim and Flam, and also Moonlit.” Octavia paused. “Please do not think that this was some act of moral courage on my part. Lulamoon was blackmailing me anyway.”
Lyra paused. There was a strange note in Octavia’s voice. Was she… lying? If so, she’s really out of practice. “Was that why you were helping us? Because Trixie was blackmailing you?”
“Yes.”
“Octavia…”
Octavia blushed and looked away. “I… alright. I was not really planning on giving in to Lulamoon at first; she lacks the political acuity to successfully blackmail a tree stump. But, as I said, I was convinced that I could perhaps do something to help you.”
“And Greengrass is punishing you for that?” Lyra shook her head. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have been out here—“
“No.” Lyra blinked, it was the first time she’d heard real strength in Octavia’s voice since arriving in Canterlot. “Lyra. First of all, there is nothing you can do. Second, even if there was, I will not ask you to suffer for my mistakes. I would not be in this position had I not taken Greengrass as my patron. That I am suffering is nopony’s fault but mine, and I will not ask you to share in that.” She paused. “I am at least not so corrupt as to try to reduce my misery by sharing it with another.”
Not knowing how to respond to the second point, Lyra tackled the first. “Can’t you just withdraw?”
“The Princess will be attending. If I cancel now, I will have snubbed her. It will be almost as bad as if I had played the piece.”
“Then – then get sick, or break your foreleg or something. Or cursed – I know, there’s a plant near Ponyville called poison joke. It wears off in a week, no long-term affects, but during that week you’ll be cursed, and you won’t be able to perform! Or, if you don’t want to do that, we could damage the theater, or—“
“Lyra.” Octavia looked down. “I am… aware… I could forestall my fall for a short while with some gimcrack tale. I could feign a terrible illness, a family emergency… vandalize the theater… I have many options. But I won’t. Setting aside that Greengrass will not let me off that easily, that I know now that I cannot hope to beat him at his own game, I am only in this position in the first place because of my own dishonesty and dishonor. I am done with that. I will accept my punishment and not try to wriggle away from it. I will either perform, or I will formally cancel. I will not lie.”
Lyra knew that Octavia was hard on herself. It was, the gray mare had explained, how she had become such a capable musician – she did not accept the excuses the other musicians did, about small errors being acceptable due to things like tuning, or environment, or exhaustion in the musician. But this was extreme, even for her. Lyra felt a sense of burning hatred towards Greengrass, who had messed up her friend so badly. “Octavia. I’m going to find some way to help you.”
Octavia smiled, but it was a sad smile. “I cannot be helped. And… Lyra, please, I do not want you to lie to yourself, even about me. After what I did, we both know that I am in no way deserving of your aid. I betrayed you, and I must live with the consequences.”
Lyra didn’t know what to say.
The cellist rose, putting a large stack of bits on the table. “I must return to practicing. Farewell, Lyra.” She paused, then bowed her head. “For what little it is worth, I am sorry for what I did.”
Lyra could only watch as Octavia left.
The lyrist exited the restaurant a few minutes later, trying to figure out what to do next. She couldn’t just abandon Octavia, but the mare clearly didn’t want her involved. If the cellist wouldn’t accept her help, what could she do?
Nopony would blame me if I just went home, she thought, slightly bitterly. Octavia won’t let me help her, and they’d all tell me that I don’t owe her anything. I do want to rescue her, but if she won’t let me… I mean, I could be just as useless to her at home with Bonbon…
“I say, wasn’t that Octavia Philharmonica?”
Lyra glanced over her shoulder to see a large white unicorn. After a moment, she recognized him as the unicorn who had told her that Octavia was in the palace. “Yes,” she said.
The unicorn peered at her, then smiled. “Ah, yes, I remember you. You’re that friend of hers that was looking for her earlier, aren’t you? Well, I’m glad to see you found her.” He smiled.
“Thanks.” Not that I think I did any good…
“You look familiar.” The unicorn’s smile widened in recognition. “Ah, I know! I attended your concert a few months back, your debut. Miss Heartstrings, is it? Some of the best lyre music I’ve ever heard.” He bowed a little.
Normally, Lyra loved it when ponies complemented her music, but she was too distracted and worried about Octavia to manage more than a polite, “Thank you.”
“Are you and Miss Philharmonica friends?”
“Yes. She was my mentor, actually, at the Music Academy.”
“And now you’ve come to support her before her first concert before the Princess?” The unicorn sounded genuinely pleased at that. “Such a splendid display of loyalty to your teacher! I suppose it’s easy for a pony like me to become cynical, what with all the politicians in town, but it truly is heartening to see today’s up and coming stars demonstrating such sterling character.”
Lyra felt a little embarrassed. “Uh, thanks. I didn’t catch your name…?”
“Oh! I apologize. My name is Fancy Pants.”
Lyra thought. “The same one who judged that farming competition in Trottingham?”
“Why, yes. Were you there?”
“No, but you helped a friend of mine out of some trouble.” Fancy Pants, according to Trixie, was a daffy (and slightly dim) fashion-obsessed millionaire who hung around the Court and was friends with Luna. He didn’t do much politically, and had no real official position besides being an ‘Advisor’ to the throne, but he was active in Canterlot social life and was always hosting a charity ball or some other such event. Recently, he’d judged a farming competition in Trottingham, and had helped Carrot Top find her way out of a monument before she was disqualified for tardiness. “Carrot Top was very grateful.”
“Right, the brilliant carrot farmer. I keep meaning to visit her farm, but, well, there’s always so much to do around here. Balls and galas and I simply can’t miss them… but anyway! I’m sure your presence here will mean a lot to Miss Philharmonica.”
“I hope so.”
“Will you be helping her prepare?”
“I wanted to, but I think she wants to get ready for it alone.“
“Are you sure? She seems like a proud sort; perhaps she just doesn’t want to admit to needing help. I know I’ve been guilty of that once or twice!” Fancy Pants laughed. “Perhaps you’ve been in the same situation?”
Lyra smiled. “Maybe a little.”
“I’m sure that she would appreciate it if you helped her, even if she says she doesn’t want it now. After all, you’re quite a good musician yourself.” Fancy Pants bowed again. “I need to get going – I’m scheduled for a dessert tasting in an hour, and I couldn’t possibly miss it – but I’m glad we met again. Have a good night, Miss Heartstrings. I look forward to seeing you at the concert.” He trotted off into the night.
Lyra sat on a bench and thought. Fancy Pants’s comments about unrequested and unwanted help reminded her of a big recital she’d given in her first year at the Academy – her first big recital, actually. Having been still somewhat new to the demands of the Academy, she’d underestimated how much time would be needed to learn the music, and had subsequently been forced to practice for very long days and skimp on sleep to catch up. This had made her both short-tempered and somewhat despairing, as she began to panic that she would botch the recital and reveal herself to be incompetent. Octavia had taken it all in stride, though, and hadn’t seemed to even notice her increasing grumpiness. She’d just kept helping Lyra through the pieces, as if nothing else mattered.
In the end, Lyra had almost missed the recital. Though she’d finally mastered the music late the evening before, she’d had a nervous feeling that she’d screw up if she tried playing it in public. She’d decided that she was going to be ‘sick’ to avoid having to play and embarrass herself, and had even turned off her alarm clock. But Octavia, upon finding that Lyra hadn’t woken at her usual time, had gone to her room and hauled her out of bed. Despite Lyra’s protests and demands that Octavia leave her alone, the cellist had dumped her in the shower and informed her that she would be attending and performing at that recital if Octavia had to personally carry her there and strap her hooves to the stage. Seeing it was hopeless, Lyra composed herself as best she could and went to the recital. And she’d done spectacularly, of course, Octavia had ensured during their practice sessions that she knew the piece.
Right, thought Lyra. She didn’t give up on me even when I flat-out told her to. I’m not going to give up on her either. She nodded. Okay. The plan’s still the same. I know just how to help her.
She began to trot down the streets, still thinking furiously.
Octavia’s brilliant, but I’ve come up with insights she hasn’t had before. And with her as frazzled as she is, I’ll bet she could really use another pony to look at the piece and give her insights. Besides, this is my specialty as a bard – telling history and legends via music is what I do.
She smiled. The Music Academy library’s probably still open. I’ll bet they have a copy of the score…
“For what it’s worth, I think you did the right thing.”
Octavia peered up at the tower ceiling, but she knew it was hopeless. The (surprisingly talkative) cat burglar had come by the tower a few times now, but Octavia had never seen her unless she’d let herself be seen.
“Thank you,” she managed.
“Do you regret it?”
“No.” Octavia had learned that it was basically pointless to put up any pretense against this mare; she seemed to have an uncanny ability to detect when Octavia was being evasive. “By contacting Trixie, I helped Lyra. It was the right thing to do.”
“See? I told you that you could do something for her.”
Octavia would have shrugged if she hadn’t been lying down. “It will be good for the music world that at least one of us will have a career. She—“
“Are you giving up so soon?” The mare sounded disappointed. “You, one of the finest musicians of the generation?”
“The finest musicians of other generations have tried and failed to play this piece. I am not so arrogant to think myself superior to all of them.”
“One may have succeeded.”
“The composer, Maestro. Maybe – the records are lost. But even if she did, Maestro had the true ending, and… well, she is said to have talent unsurpassed in the intervening millenia. Perhaps Luna only hates subsequent renditions because they compare unfavorably, however slightly, to the original.”
The burglar was silent for a while. Then she said, “Do you know what you will do after?”
“I suppose I will return to Cheneigh. I have enough money to hold me over until I can…” Even she could not quite prevent her voice from breaking just a bit, “…can start a new career.”
“As?”
“I don’t know. I have been told I have substantial physical strength, so… maybe something involving tilling or moving, or whatever strong ponies do. Or I could leave the country. In other lands, where Luna’s distaste is not so powerful, I could still perform.”
“Octavia.” The cellist heard the burglar leap down and lightly touch the ground; though she moved incredibly quietly, Octavia could still hear her. “Listen to yourself. Do you honestly think you deserve this?”
Octavia hesitated. At last, she said, “Yes. Had I succeeded, it would be Lyra’s life which would have been ruined.”
There was no response for a moment, and then she heard hoofsteps near her head. “After all of the work you have put in, all the hours and sacrifices, how can you honestly think that it’s right that it all be destroyed? I thought you valued your ability more than that.”
“I...” She trailed off, and then shook her head. The burglar’s words were tempting, but she had to be stronger than that. It was hard, especially when the burglar visited her so often, but she couldn't lose focus. “Lyra Heartstrings is one of the most loyal and noble ponies I have ever known. Her musical talent is beyond compare. She has literally saved the world. And it was her – her – whom I betrayed. If I forgave myself this error, it would be like saying that she was not valuable enough to care about, that whether she prospered or perish was irrelevant.”
“Then why does she worry about you? She knows what you did.”
“She is kind and loyal to a fault. She is letting our prior relationship blind her to my more recent transgressions. I think, though, I have disabused her of those notions now. I do not believe she will return tomorrow – I taught her to be honest, even about me, and after my explanation tonight I do not believe she will overlook my betrayal any longer.” Octavia paused. “I honestly appreciate you trying to console me, but I could no more forget my treason than I could forget a missed note. And I think that we have been over this multiple times.”
“Yes,” said the burglar’s voice, bright and kind.
“My response will not change.”
“I’ll keep going over it,” said the burglar, from just behind her, “Until you understand.” And then she dashed past Octavia and was out the window.
“One thing,” she called, from the outside. “Suppose, despite all you’ve said, she comes back tomorrow. You won’t chase her away, will you?”
Octavia hesitated. “I can’t… I mean, she won’t. She has to see now—“
“But if she does?”
“Then, no, of course not. If she wants to be here, I won’t have her removed, if that’s what you mean. But—“
“Splendid!” The voice sounded happy, and then Octavia heard that weird sound of hoofsteps scampering down the tower wall. The vertical wall.
Octavia listened to her go, then turned away. She wished the burglar wouldn’t come so often. She always made things so… confusing.
Octavia awoke the next morning to the sound of a lyre.
But the room is soundproofed… oh. It must be Lyra again with her magic.
The tune sounded familiar, and Octavia slowly realized that it was from the first movement of the symphony – the entrance to Luna’s theme. It sounded misty and hard to pin down, but retained a regal strength.
Gorgeous…
Octavia slowly got to her hooves turned around, and opened the door. Lyra was sitting there on the floor, strumming her lyre, eyes shut and horn glowing brightly. The cellist wanted to interrupt her, but she wasn’t capable of stopping such a beautiful section of music. She could only stand and watch.
A few minutes later, Lyra finished the theme and opened her eyes. She was flushed with effort – it must have taken quite a bit of effort to push the music through the silencing spells on the door – but she was still grinning merrily. “What did you think?”
“In one night?” asked Octavia. “You mastered it to that extent? Incredible…”
“Well, it took a bit of work.” Lyra yawned. “But hey, I thought you might like a little music to wake up to. Isn’t it awesome?”
“Sublime,” said Octavia, with the voice of an experienced and relentlessly honest music critic. “Beyond compare.”
“So!” Lyra hopped to her hooves. She tapped a stack of pages on the floor – the copy of the score that she’d gotten from the library. “How would you like me to help you learn the Symphony for Moon and Sun?”
Octavia stared in confusion. Why is she helping me? She has to know I stabbed her in the back. But then she bowed her head. The reason why was not important. At this point, she was just grateful to have a friend who would stick with her even in these circumstances.
“I would like nothing more.”
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I'm envisioning this story as having kind of a 3-act structure, and this concludes the first act. Lyra's gotten through to Octy and knows how to help her, and she's put to bed whatever lingering doubts she had about helping someone who stabbed her in the back. Meanwhile, Octy's made some progress with her personal problems, and she has a friend and ally -- things are looking up! Surely nothing could go wrong in the next two acts. :-)
Looks like Octavia's mysterious friend has continued talking to her. And she seems to be making progress too. Well, it's nice to know there's one pony in Canterlot who isn't an Evil Politician.
My, it sure is interesting how Fancy Pants always seems to pop up in the right place.
Given that he's their take on Batman, I'm not surprised.
ASK UPSIDE-DOWN FLEUR!
i49.tinypic.com/2cmkpxt.png
So far so good, another delightful chapter.
Your Octavia is a truly committed and dedicated pony. If we ever needed a real backup team (instead of Twilight's band of misfit failures), Octavia might make a very good Element of Honesty. Here though, she is clearly missing a key aspect, proper honesty with herself. She's far too deep into this delusion that she is beyond redemption. Not a complaint either, it's all wonderful character presentation.
Also good to see Fancy Pants playing his dimwitted, help ponies by accidently being in the right place at the right time, role to the hilt. I can also just imagine him having off screen as been trying to convince Luna not to judge Octavia's performance too harshly as the girl is clearly being forced into it, but Luna being all to angsty and broody to listen, dismissing any notion of such because Octavia is still willingly going through with it instead of canceling.
Context suggests that should be a "No!" me thinks. Maybe even be its own single word paragraph.
981177
We need to start that tumbler.
And go, fancy Pants! I just love that name... Fancy Pants. Just makes me giggle.
981491
Ah, but the exclamation point would mean she's SHOUTING LIKE BRIAN BLESSED!
A firm calmly said 'No' can be just as effective, depending on the person.
982064
I agree. The 'no' works just fine without an exclamation mark, and I honestly think using one would diminish its impact rather than enhance it.
Anytime I hear the name Fancy Pants, I think of Fancy Pants from the fancy pants adventures.
And I am now imagining L!Fancy Pants running in crazy loops and parkouring the heck out of stuff.
And so Fancy pants and Fleur strike again. Alway's great to see them and I liked how they seemed to double team Lyra and Octiva. Good chapter, Octavia is interesting when she is alone in the world that she has created for herself but personally I think she shines a lot more when she has other characters to bounce off of but I think that is true for most characters.
Yeah, that's it. At least in the Lunaverse, Fancy Pants and Fleur are tied for best pony.
¡BatMane and CatMare will help Octavia and Lyra succeed!
i feel like a pnasy, i shed a tear on that las scene
what is Cheneigh?
________________
981015
You do a great Tavi Fics for L!Verse. Love what you do with them. Although I'm slightly disappointed that Tavs in the lack of S2 Tavi, and we don't get any more of her "Mysterious Friend". And yes, Fancy Pants is pure Boss.
I love Lyra in this. Her character coneitnures to sow growth, but it isn't just Lyra, it is also octavia who is growing in this tale.
IIRC, Fleur de Lee