• Published 9th Aug 2011
  • 2,919 Views, 68 Comments

The Pony of the Opera - Miyajima

An adaptation of Phantom of the Opera, tailored to FiM.

  • ...


~ Intermezzo ~

Twilight sat calmly on the library floor, a copy of ‘Arcane Equines - A Brief History of Unicorns’ levitating before her and a cup of tea resting beside her. Spike had been sent out to get lunch for the pair from the market. Twilight strongly suspected that her draconic assistant had only offered to go because the town jeweller had a shop near the marketplace, and was more than happy to give Spike the flawed, broken or cracked gems he couldn’t sell.

The owl-shaped clock on the wall struck a quarter to twelve. Twilight turned a page of her book with a spark from her horn, and made it two sentences into the text before being interrupted by a loud THUD coming from outside the library’s front door. Brief, conflicting feelings of annoyance and concern washed over her as she got up and trotted to the door, swinging it open to find a slate-grey pegasus lying on her back, golden eyes spinning.

“Ditzy! Are you alright?” Twilight asked, concern winning out.

Ditzy Doo rolled over and pulled herself up, her eyes taking a little longer to come back into line.

“Hi, Twilight! I’m fine, thanks, I just wasn’t looking where I was going and hit that branch as I flew past,” she said, pointing up at an overhanging limb and smiling apologetically. Twilight smirked in return.

“The way Rainbow Dash keeps hitting them, I’m surprised there’s any left. Any mail for me today?”

“Oh! Yep, a few letters, hang on.” Ditzy flipped open the flap of her saddlebag with her muzzle and drew out a small collection of letters tied with string, holding them between her teeth. Twilight relieved her of them, floating them inside and onto the table for later perusal.

“Okay, got plenty more to deliver, see you tomorrow, Twilight!” Ditzy smiled and waved a hoof in farewell as she took off, flying back over the main street.

Twilight spared a second to ponder why the mailmare didn’t just deliver to the houses and buildings in order instead of shooting off around Ponyville, but reasoned that Ditzy Doo probably had her reasons.

Swinging the door shut, she turned to her mail, magically untying the string and moving them into a row so she could clearly see them all. One in particular caught her eye; a pale gold envelope bearing a Canterlot postmark, with the address clearly written in Rarity’s distinctive, cursive horn-style.

Intrigued, Twilight pulled across a letter opener and slit the envelope, withdrawing and unfolding the letter.

Dearest Twilight Sparkle,

Fluttershy and I have been working at the Canterlot Opera House for some weeks now, and I am just writing a brief note to inform you that we are both in fine spirits and enjoying our stay in Canterlot. Fluttershy’s confidence has soared; she has been playing major roles in a number of performances. However, she doesn’t seem to be dealing with the popularity very well, the poor dear.

I have been swept off my feet creating and maintaining the costumes for all the ponies here at the Opera, but I am relishing every moment of it!

In the upcoming week, Falsetto, the manager of the Opera House to whom I introduced you when he visited Ponyville, will be hosting a masque gala to celebrate the opening of his new opera! I am thrilled to announce that I have managed to procure you all tickets to the gala and the evening performance! Oh, and you need not worry about what to wear, I have an extra surprise for you all when you arrive!

Both your ticket and Spike’s are enclosed, please make sure you can attend! I haven’t told Fluttershy that I’ve sent out these tickets, so it will be a wonderful surprise for her as well!

Eagerly awaiting your reply,
~ Rarity

Twilight smiled broadly, happy to hear from Rarity and Fluttershy, and pleased as punch for the invitation! Being quite an enthusiast of the classics, Twilight was sure that whatever her schedule held, she’d make time for the visit to Canterlot. As she turned the letter over to place it down, she noticed a post-script;


You’ll also find enclosed a return envelope has been enchanted with the Opera House’s dragonfire service thaumic signature, or ‘hotmail address’, I think they call it. If you could find out which of you can attend and send me a letter back via Spike, that would be wonderful!

“That’s Rarity for you, always thinking of every possible detail...” Twilight said to herself as she pulled two gold tickets from the envelope, bearing her and Spike’s names. As if on cue, the little dragon burst through the door, over-burdened by a large lunch order and a sack of semi-precious gems and off-cuts.

“Oh, Spike! Rarity wrote from Canterlot! She’s invited us to go there for the opera Fluttershy’s performing in!”
Spike dumped his cargo on the floor and turned to Twilight, frowning.

“Opera?! Eugh! Give me a DJ-P0N3 gig any day... But if Rarity invited us...” he trailed off, torn between his dislike of operatic music and the desire to see Rarity.

“Aw, come on, Spike! It’ll be fun! Besides, Rarity specifically asked you to come,” Twilight replied, waving the ticket over Spike’s head in a teasing manner. “You’ll enjoy it, I promise.”

“... Fine. Oh yeah, the store’d run out of daisies, so I got you dandelions on rye.”

“Ah, thanks! Come on, let’s eat. Gotta admit, I’m starved!” Twilight carefully tucked the two tickets back into the envelope, before following Spike into the kitchen.

Ditzy Doo opened the door of Sugarcube Corner, causing the bell to jangle loudly. A shocking head of frizzy pink mane shot up from behind the counter, covered liberally in jam. Pinkie Pie looked around in panic, but seeing that Ditzy was the only pony present, let out a sigh of relief. Licking herself clean with a tongue far too large for her frame, she bounded over to Ditzy, grinning enthusiastically.

“Hey Ditzy! That the mail?”

Before the mailmare had even time to nod, Pinkie had somehow managed to retrieve both hers and the Cakes’ letters from Ditzy’s saddlebags.

“Mmfh! Howfsh chyour hround thifsh ‘orning?” Pinkie asked, mouth full of mail.

“Oh, fine so far, no major accidents or mislaid anvils! How about you, busy morning?” Ditzy replied, smiling as Pinkie spat out the letters onto the counter.

“No, it’s been quiet today! The Cakes are out getting lunch, so I’m minding the store while they’re gone. Oh, fancy a muffin? Got some fresh out of the oven!” Pinkie was suddenly holding out a tray with a delectable-looking treat decorated in bright yellow icing and smelling quite strongly of lemon. “Goesfh wivh chyour hair!” she said around the tray.

Ditzy still recalled the last time she had one of Pinkie’s muffins. Once poisoned, twice paranoid.

“N-no thanks! I’m... On a diet! Just fresh greens and fruit for me, sorry! Thanks anyway! See you!” she said, slowly backing out the door, then making a break for it. Pinkie’s hair deflated slightly as she put the muffin back in the showcase, then she began to sift through the letters.

“Junk, junk, threat, junk, tax notice, health and safety inspection- Oo! This one’s for me! And my full name, too! Must be important!”

She singled out a pale gold envelope bearing a Canterlot postmark, running upstairs with it to find a letter opener.

“Oh! Gummy! Here, pull this!” She waved one end of the letter towards her ‘letter opener’, who clamped onto it with toothless jaws. Pulling the other end, the envelope tore open like a cracker, revealing a letter and a gold ticket.

Unfolding the letter with her hoof, she read;

Dearest Pinkie Pie...


… am thrilled to announce that I have managed to procure you all tickets to the gala and the evening performance!

After a little pleading I even managed to get yours extended to a ‘plus one’, Pinkie Pie, so feel free to bring Gummy if you think he’ll enjoy it. I know you said he’s got a refined taste in music. Besides, Angel is here with me and Fluttershy, so perhaps the company will do him good.

Send word to Twilight if you can make it!

Your friend,
~ Rarity

Pinkie hopped up and down with glee. The shaking was enough to flip over the letter, and she noticed a post-script.


Let’s try NOT to have a repeat of the Grand Galloping Gala, please? I know you mean well, but... This is a formal occasion. On the other hoof, there will be plenty of dancing!

Pinkie hopped up and down with slightly muted glee, but glee nonetheless. Gummy looked on inscrutably.

Ditzy always left Sweet Apple Acres ‘til around noon, no matter where she was on her route, since it was about the only time in the day when Applejack, Big Mac and Granny Smith were guaranteed to be indoors together. Often, before, Ditzy had gone into the orchards looking for one of them to deliver to, only to come off worse for wear for her troubles. Somehow she had an uncanny knack of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, usually when a whole tree-load of apples was about to come down on her head, or she happened to be in the way of Applejack’s hoof as it made its journey to a tree trunk.

Stopping up short by the front door of the Apple family’s humble abode, she knocked, rang the bell, and yelled “Mail’s here!”. A further precaution, since Granny Smith was ‘a little hard of hearing’. Ditzy winced at the memory of one time when she had made the mistake of not announcing her presence loud enough, and had gone around to the kitchen to check if anyone was in. That little, unassuming gesture had resulted in her being sent to the Ponyville Infirmary with frying-pan induced concussion. Granny Smith maintained to this day that she was merely defending her land against trespassers.

With this in mind, the mailmare let out a quiet sigh of relief when Big Mac opened the door to greet her.

“Mornin’ Bright Eyes. What’ve y’got for us t’day?” he said, smiling. Ditzy blushed a little at the affectionate nickname, and mumbled incoherently as she dug out the Apple family’s mail. She passed the letters to Big Mac, trying very, very hard not to accidentally touch his muzzle with hers.

“Thansfh. Shafe fhlyin’ on yerh hround naw!” Big Mac managed through the wad of paper. Ditzy Doo bowed her head and launched from standing, taking off in the direction of Rainbow Dash’s luxurious cloud estate.

Big Mac chuckled to himself as he watched her leave.

“Odd mare, that one.” he thought to himself, shutting the door. “Cute, too.”

He strolled back into the kitchen and laid the mail down on the table. Applejack started sifting through it while chewing on some oats, spilling bits of grain over them. Big Mac took the bills away, leaving just a brochure advertising a new type of plough (20% Better Than The Competition!), and a pale gold envelope addressed to her. Written with her full legal name, which made her frown as she immediately recognized the writing.

“Consarnit,” she started, swallowing her mouthful, “she knows I hate bein’ called all that.” She continued to mutter as she slit the envelope and tipped out the letter and accompanying ticket. She peered curiously at the words ‘Canterlot Opera House’ embossed on the slip of golden card, and turned to the letter.

Dearest Applejack,


… will be a formal occasion so PLEASE make an effort and at least wash your mane or something. I know you may not care for opera, but do come, at least for Fluttershy’s sake. I’ve planned this as a surprise for her, she’s been a little... mopey, the past week. Won’t tell me why, poor dear.

If you can attend (and by Celestia, if you don’t, I will tie you down and braid your hair until you apologize), send word to Twilight.

~ Rarity

Applejack stared in dumbfounded horror at the shockingly detailed sketch of herself being held down by Rarity, who was holding a brush above her mane and grinning evilly.

“... Mac, I think I’ll be takin’ some time off next week, y’hear?”

High above Ponyville floated the serene, and completely out-of-place, home of Rainbow Dash. It had been the subject of numerous complaints about planning permission, and a couple of subtle inquiries over how she managed to afford such a luxurious home, but no one could deny that she certainly worked hard enough to make up for it.

That is, when she wasn’t ‘napping’.

Rainbow was rudely interrupted from just one such nap by a rapping of hooves on her front door. She half-rolled, half-fell out of bed, and flew blearily along the corridor, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She swung the door open to be greeted by the smiling face and lop-sided gaze of Ditzy Doo.

“Oh, hey Derpy. Man, mail already? You’re early today.”

“It’s, uh... Past noon, Crash.” Ditzy replied. ‘Derpy Hooves’ was an old nickname from her time in Summer Flight Camp. She didn’t much like being called by it, but she and Rainbow had a mutual agreement.

“... What? Already?” Dash peered up at the sun, jolting herself fully awake. “Oh horseapples! I was meant to be running the Everfree stretch this morning! Now I’ll have to work the night shift. Ugh.” She sighed, turning her attention back to Ditzy. “So, what’ve I got today? Any more fanmail from Scoots?”

Ditzy smiled, taking the letters from her bags and tossing them past Dash into the hallway. “None from Scootaloo, you’ll be glad to know. She really looks up to you, that one.” She looked Rainbow up and down, and grinned. “Can’t think why.”

“Yeah, yeah, har har. Airspace busy today?” she asked, dismissing Ditzy’s tease with a wave of her hoof.

“Nope. Clear skies, great for flying. I’ll catch up with you later, Crash, gotta finish my rounds. Have a good day!” She grinned again, turning and plummeting through the cloud-lawn in front of Dash’s front door.

“You’re gonna fix that later, Derpy!” Rainbow yelled through the hole after her retreating friend. As one of the few other capable fliers in Ponyville, at least when she was looking where she was going, Ditzy and Dash would occasionally practise with each other. More than once the mail round had ended in an impromptu race that resulted in letters scattered across the town.

Rainbow smirked to herself and shut the door, picking up her letters and flopping down on her cloud-stuffed couch in the living room. She put aside Wonderbolts Weekly for later reading and found a pale gold envelope bearing her name and a Canterlot postmark. She tugged the envelope open, tipping it upside down and raising an eyebrow at the golden ticket that fell out with the letter.

Her eyes widened as she read ‘Canterlot Opera House’ embossed on the side. She quickly scooped up the letter, skim-reading.

Dearest Rainbow Dash,


… while I don’t expect you enjoy opera, I have no intentions of letting you stay in Ponyville while the rest of us are here, so you will find your ticket enclosed. If it makes any difference, I know for a fact that some of the Wonderbolts are frequent patrons. In fact, Falsetto tells me that one of the current troupe used to be a singer and dancer here at the Opera House!

Hoping you’ll come,
~ Rarity

Rainbow dropped the letter, staring slack-jawed at the wall.

It’s a well-known fact that one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, or a pony by their appearance. Rainbow didn’t have many guests to her home, (although the interior was enchanted to provide footing for Earth Ponies and unicorns), and so her friends had made certain assumptions about her tastes. Some were correct, Rainbow enjoyed ‘harder’ music as much as the next pony, but closer examination of her home and it’s distinctly Classical décor would have surprised many, not least of all Rarity herself.

“Ohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigoshohmigosh!” she squealed, finally, snatching up the ticket and storing it away safely where it wouldn’t be lost. She dashed directly from there to her stack of vintage vinyls, and with a skilful flick, landed one on the turntable of her record player. The needle fell into place as the disc automatically began to spin, and the first chords of Wagon’s ‘Flight of The Pegasus’ filled the air.

Rainbow sank back on her couch, smiling blissfully.

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