Chapter 1 (Revised)
“Ugh, all this dust is simply dreadful!” The prissy white unicorn scoffed as she levitated boxes while dusting and organizing them. “I swear, Applejack, it’s amazing that you are able to live in such conditions. All this debris in the air can not be good for one’s sinuses.”
Across the attic the orange cowpony in question rolled her eyes as her companion went about her dramatic ways. “It’s fine, Rares. This place just needs some dustin’ and it’ll be fine.”
“This attic is far from fine,” Rarity remarked as she placed the box she had in her magical aura in a neat stack along other stacks of boxes that had been recently dusted. She picked up another box with her magic and repeated the arduous process by first opening the box to spruce up its contents. “I mean really. This room is in complete and utter disarray! It must have been ages since you last cleaned up here!”
Applejack frowned as she pushed a freshly dusted box against a wall. “It’s only been a year since the last cleaning. We only clean this place during Spring Cleaning.”
“Well then no wonder it’s so ghastly up here.”
“The family and I don’t have the time to be cleaning up this room like we do with the rest of the house.” Applejack opened a box to dust inside of it. As she opened it up she an army of dust bunnies attacked her making her have a coughing fit. She didn’t see her but she knew that Rarity was glaring at her with a look that said ‘I told you so.’ “Besides,” she continued, “we only use the attic for storage so I really don’t see a point to keep it in pristine condition.”
“I could go on about the many way of how wrong that statement is," Rarity turned around to see Applejack’s annoyed expression. Her face softened and her demeanor changed, “but you did ask me for help, so I’ll just finish up here.”
Applejack’s facial expression lightened up a bit as well, but her voice still showed that she was slightly annoyed. “I asked for your help because I thought you would want to spend sometime together. We both had been busy lately so we haven’t had much time to see each other. I thought this would be a good chance to just talk; not argue about the etiquettes of house keeping.”
Rarity sighed. “You’re right, dear. I’m sorry.”
Applejack smiled warmly “It’s okay, Rares. I should have expected it when I asked you.”
Rarity returned the smile and turned back to the task at hand. “Not to worry, I should be done with my side in a few more minutes.”
“Good. Same here.” Applejack quickly trotted towards the attic’s entrance and stuck her head out. She listened to the sounds of various objects being moved and the miscellaneous rants of her grandmother. She pulled her head back in and walked towards the unicorn. “It seems like the rest of the family aren’t done with their chores yet so it looks like I have extra time off today. Want to get some lunch?”
“Sounds delightful. Let me just get this last box out of the way and...” Rarity was hindered by an unusual box. It seemed a bit older than the rest of the boxes that she had handled. “Applejack, darling, what’s in this box?”
Applejack stopped what she was doing and trotted over to Rarity’s side of the attic. Upon inspecting the box Applejack became just as clueless as Rarity. “You know, I haven’t the slightest idea.” The box was locked but looked very frail. With one swift hit on top of the box from Applejack it crumbled into ashes and the contents fell on the floor.
“Applejack! You must be careful! What if you were to destroy, I don’t know, a precious family heirloom!”
“Nah, all of those are locked up in Granny’s trunk.” Applejack surveyed the rest of the attic. “No, there’s not much up here that would be worth much.”
“What about that?” Rarity pointed towards an odd looking case that had a long slender neck and a round body. Applejack looked at the object Rarity pointed at and her face instantly brighten up. She quickly opened the case and let out a slight chuckle.
“It’s my old violin! I haven’t seen this thing in a while! Boy, that sure takes me back.”
“Wait, you played the violin?” Rarity inquired skeptically.
“Yeah. Didn’t you see me at the wedding? I was playing a few tunes on one of those musician’s violins. Nice fellow. I still can’t believe he let me borrow it in the first place.”
“I must have missed it.” Rarity, still in disbelief, continued "But you never told me you played the violin before.”
“It never came up. Besides, it wasn’t a big part of my life anyway.” Applejack, after finishing her sentence, inspected the instrument and soon became mesmerized by it. Its rosewood body gave off a dull sheen, its strings were a bit on the rusty side, and there were a few chips in the body but the instrument was a still playable. As Applejack gazed at the instrument's archaic beauty, an idea hatched into her brain. “Hey, I think I remember a few songs. Want to hear me play a few of them?”
It’s not that Rarity didn’t mind some music, it was the kind of music she detested. “I don’t know, Applejack. I’m really not in the mood for country or bluegrass music.”
Applejack took Rarity’s response with a grain of salt and was about to put the instrument back into it’s case. But suddenly out of nowhere, another idea popped inside of Applejack’s head. ‘Hmm... I bet she’ll get a kick out of this.’
As Rarity turned back towards the pile of ashes to clean it up, Applejack grabbed the bow by the frog and the violin by the hoof board. She dragged the horse hairs across the strings making a glorious, rich tone. She began began alternating bow strokes creating rapid arpeggios. The climax of the technical opening gave way to a slow lyrical line embellished with decorative trills and turns. Each note sang vibrantly filling the room with echos of relics of the past. As the piece began Rarity became hypnotized by the notes that filled the air. She gawked at the mare the stood across from her. It stunned her to see Applejack play such elegant music. It seemed so odd and out of place to see a pony like Applejack to play music that you would hear in the finest concert halls in Canterlot. As the music continued Rarity continued to stare at her without so much as blinking. It was like something out of a surreal dream or a fantasy. Something that nopony would ever think would happen.
But as soon as it started, it stopped. Applejack came to a halt and scratched her head. “Aw, horsefeathers. I can’t remember any more of that piece.” Applejack put the instrument back down into its case. “So, how’s that for bluegrass music?” She said with a wink and smug grin of self satisfaction.
As Applejack walked back to the remaining boxes on her side of the attic, Rarity finally broke out of her trance and tried to speak. All she managed to say in her daze was “How?”
“How what?” Applejack answered.
“How were you able to play all that?”
“With my hooves, obviously,” Applejack sarcastically remarked, “Come on, we need to finish if we are going to get some lunch.”
Rarity, still stunned by what she had heard, persisted further. “Applejack, that was beautiful! I...I never heard such an excellent performance! Where did you learn to play like that?”
“I took lessons as a filly. But enough about that. Let’s finish.”
“Applejack, I can’t believe you are so nonchalant about this. I would had never believed somepony like you could play like that!”
“What do you mean by that?” Applejack asked defensively.
“It’s just that I thought that you only listened to-”
“Country?” Applejack interrupted.
“Well, uh, yes.” Rarity replied while trying not to be insulting. “It’s just that with your lifestyle and all, well, I just figured that you wouldn’t have such refined musical taste.”
Applejack sighed. “Well, you know,” Applejack answered trying not to sound offended “there’s more to me than what you know, Rares. I just don’t feel the need to tell you and the girls about every little detail about my life.”
“Why not, then?”
“I...,” Applejack thought about it for a second but couldn’t think of a good enough answer. “I just don’t think its that important.”
“Not important?!” Rarity gasped, “My dear Applejack. I have known you for years but this is the first time I have seen you do something that doesn’t have to do with rodeos or farming. It makes me feel like I don’t know you at all.” Rarity looked away from Applejack briefly and pointed at the instrument case by Applejack’s hooves. “When you share things about yourself it allows me to appreciate you more than I already do.” Rarity looked into Applejack’s emerald eyes with a sense of pleading. “Please tell me, why haven’t you been playing if you have such a gift?”
Applejack got a bit nervous. She knew she wouldn’t be able to give an answer good enough for Rarity. She couldn’t lie so she had to tell as much as she could. “I really don’t remember much. I just stopped playing one day. “
“Was it work?”
“No,” Applejack tried to recollect her memories as hard as she can. “I do remember practicing a little bit when I first started working the fields. I guess I just stopped.”
Unsatisfied with her companion’s answer but seeing no reason to pursue it further Rarity decided to go another route. “Well, then can you tell me about the violin? It’s looks kind of worn from being in a case all these years.”
“Uhh...well I guess I can tell you about it. I got the violin from my cousin Fiddlesticks. It was her old violin or ‘fiddle’ as she called it. I asked her if I could have have it and she gave it to me. Plain and simple.”
“Did anyone in your immediate family know how to play an instrument?”
Applejack briefly imitated her brother and spat out a solid, “Nope”
“So how did you learn to play? I know how thrifty you can be at times, so I would assume your parents didn’t spend precious bits on lessons if you didn’t already know how to play.”
“And you would have been right. But as luck would have it, I just seemed to have a natural talent for the violin. After my parents heard me play a bunch of folk songs by ear, they scraped together any extra money they could to give me private lessons and sheet music.”
Applejack turned her attention towards the instrument case and picked it up. She held it like it was a teddy bear and let longful sigh. “I remember spending hours just practicing until Granny told me to quit the racket and go to sleep. When I got the violin I still couldn’t work yet because I was much too young, so practicing gave me something to do while Big Mac was outside. I didn’t have many friends growing up so I just practiced and got real good at the violin.”
Applejack put down the instrument but kept looking at it as if it were an old family portrait. “My parents were so sure that I was going to get a cutie mark in music or something but you know how that story turned out.” Applejack chuckled and pointed to the three apples that decorated the side of her flank. “Anyway, that’s the story behind this here violin.”
“That’s it?”
“Eeyup”
“No dramatic backstory, filled with emotional dialogue and coming of age scenes?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“So you just got a violin from your cousin and started playing, then one day just stopping?”
“That’s about right.”
“I don’t know why I expected anything more.”
“Sorry to disappoint, Rares. “
“Oh well. Still, its a shame you stopped. You have such a lovely sound.”
“Thank you very much. Well it looks like I’m finished. Let’s go get some chow. Shall we?”
***
The two mares, now out of the stuffy attic of the Apple family, sat contently at one of Ponyville’s many outdoor cafes. The sun was mildly warm with only a few clouds blemishing the perfectly blue sky. On one of the cafe’s toadstool tables , an orange Earth pony was happily munching away on her lunch. “I know I was skeptical at first, but now I can firmly say, I love these French cucumbers. Even if I don’t know what about them is exactly ‘French’” Applejack muttered between bitefuls of her cucumber sandwich. “Can’t say the same thing about Arugula though. I think it ruins the sandwich.”
“Uh huh.” Rarity replied absentmindedly. The unicorn looked like she was in deep in thought or her mind was somewhere else.
“So anyway, I was thinking about taking Applebloom for another camping trip in another couple of weeks. I was wondering if you and Sweetie Belle would like to join us again.”
“Uh huh.”
A bit surprised by the answer, Applejack asked Rarity again for reassurance.“Are sure? I mean I know how you rather be indoors working on some new design for a dress or something.”
“Uh huh.”
Confused, Applejack kept on asking questions for clarity. “Is that a yes for camping, or staying at home?”
“Uh huh.”
Finally catching onto what was really going on, Applejack broke off of her previous conversation and started a new line of questions. “Rarity what’s the matter, Sugarcube? You’re more distant than a rabbit among chickens.”
“What?”
“It’s not my best metaphor, but you get the point. Is there something wrong?”
“Oh it’s nothing.”
“Missy, I have known you long enough to know when there’s something on your mind. Come on, tell me what’s going on.”
Rarity hesitated at first but decided it was no use keeping what was on her mind hidden from the honest mare. “Well, I’m still a bit disturbed that you have this wonderful talent that you are just keeping away from the world. It’s a crime, really.”
Applejack groaned. “You’re still hung up on that? Why do you care so much about the fact that I can play violin?”
“Because dear, anything that is beautiful must be shared with the world. Whether you like it or not, the fact you can create such elegance makes you an artist.”
Applejack was dumbfounded by Rarity’s answer. The word “artist” wasn’t exactly an adjective that you would not normally use to described Ponyville’s prized cowpony. “An artist?”
“Yes! And artist have an obligation to make the world a better place.” Rarity threw her hooves into the air in her usual dramatic ways to over emphasize her point. “They look at the world and not see what is but what can be. They re envision our world with their own personalities displaying another voice that allows another pony to feel another’s experience; a glimpse into another pony’s soul. For some it could bring utter joy and happiness. And for that it would be blasphemy for me not let you share your art with the world!”
Applejack was still not completely one hundred percent on board with Rarity’s line of thinking. “But don’t I have to create something in order for me to be considered an artist?”
“Silly Applejack,” Rarity played “there are many types of artists out there. You, for example, would be considered a performing artist. You make other pony’s music come to life for the audience to hear and enjoy!”
The farm pony was still not totally convinced. “I don’t know, Rarity. It just doesn’t sound like me. Believe me, the last thing anypony expect from me is some classical music.”
“But don’t you wish you can break out of that expectation? I mean, most ponies think you are all about work and apples.”
Applejack wasn’t one to think much of what ponies thought of her. If fact, they could have thought that she was a changeling in disguise for all she cared. “And? What of it?”
“Well don’t you feel degraded that ponies think that your namesake is your entire existence.”
“Rarity, the only ponies whose opinions I care about are from my friends and loved ones. I really don’t care what strangers think of me.” Applejack to took a sip of water from glass when another thought hit her. “Unless, do you think I’m all about work and apples?”
“Of course not!” Rarity shouted, “I’m actually a bit insulted that you would suspect me of such a thing.”
“So you’re saying that when you first met me, you didn’t think I was just some country bumpkin who talked day and night about apples?”Applejack glared at Rarity with a grin that signaled a victory over an unspoken argument. Rarity again was hesitant to answer but eventually cracked.
“Okay, I’ll admit it. I did think something along those lines about you. But that was before I knew how wonderful you can be. Over the years together, I have come to know so much about you. You’re kind, loving, wise, you have a great work ethic with a rustic beauty that is simply to die for. You’re always there for the ones you love and will always help ponies in need. I even managed to convince you to join me at the spa that one time. That’s far from the ‘bumpkin’ that I thought you were.”
Flattered, Applejack blushed and said meekly. “Thank you, Sugarcube. That means a lot.”
“Still,” Rarity persisted, “even though you are content with your life right now, don’t you ever wish for something more?”
“Like what?”
“Well take me for example.” Rarity levitated her glass of water and took a quick drink. She cleared her throat and began her little lecture. “My ultimate dream is to have a shop in Canterlot and design for nobles and celebrities alike. But it’s not my only dream. I would like to travel all over Equestria and other parts of the world: experiencing different cultures, cuisines, and art. I even have the dream to find my very special somepony one of these days. So tell me, is there anything else you would like to do with your life?”
Applejack thought about her life briefly. “I’ve never really thought about it.” She loved her farm and her lifestyle but it didn’t provide her many choices and she did have to admit that her routine did get a tad mundane from time to time but when it did all she had to do was spend some time around her friends and that usually took away some of the fatigue of farm work. Still, she didn’t really ask for much in life other than to just be happy and with her job and friendships, she consider herself to be just so. “I guess I would like to travel as well, but I already do a lot of that with you and the girls. I would like to become Rodeo Champion of Equestria but after my performance last year in Canterlot, I would be as old as Granny Smith before that would ever happen.” Applejack thought back to the violin. She had to admit. It did feel good playing the instrument again. It rekindled an old passion that she had forgotten that existed. The more she thought about it, the more she felt the need to play again; an itch that was begging to be scratched. “I suppose it would be fun to pick up the violin again.”
Rarity clapped her hooves in delight. “Wonderful! Oh but you must give a performance one of these days.”
“A performance? I don’t know, Rares. I don’t think I like the sound of that. Can I just play for your birthday or something like that?”
“But you must perform! Otherwise what’s the point?”
“For fun maybe?”
“Well yes of course for fun but...oh dear... How can I explain this?” Rarity tried to think of a way to explain this to the farm pony. “Art loses its meaning when it isn’t shared with the public.”
“I think you’re going to need to explain that a bit further.”
“You see, Art, unlike anything else in the world, has the ability to connect with the audience in a way that only languages could only dream of doing. Art is able to transcend generations, cultures, and even languages! It expresses the inexpressible and allows ponies to see into the inner world of our imaginations making our world all the more beautiful! Art is a reflection of our society and our society is a reflection of the art it creates.” Rarity let out a dreamy sigh while Applejack just shook her head.
“I understand why art is so important, I just want to know why I should perform for other ponies.”
“Because it allows you to grow as a pony. I can’t begin to explain the happiness I feel whenever I see models in my outfits and receive acclaim from critics. I feel like I learn something new about myself. I realize what I am truly capable of doing and it just fills me with pride and humility. From there I know whenever I’m doing my absolute best.”
Rarity continued to beg to the orange pony. “Applejack you must play. A gift like yours is best shared. An artist without an audience is just a pony who talks to the wind and expects an answer. Art is meant to be seen and heard and...”
“Fine. Fine. Fine. I’ll do it. Geesh.” Applejack knew that if she had let Rarity continue she could go on for hours ranting in circles about how she should put on a recital. It was a battle she could not win no matter how hard she tried. “So what do you suppose I do? Just walk up to random ponies and just say, ‘Hey want to hear a song?’ Ponies would think I’m right out of my mind!”
“Hmm...I think I remember something about another cafe having some sort of ‘open stage’ night in a few weeks. You can play a few pieces there.”
“ A few weeks? That seems a bit sudden, Don’t ya think?”
“It’s nothing that you can’t handle, dear. I know talent when I see it and I firmly believe you can be ready in time.”
Picking up the violin was one thing but now that she had a deadline for a performance,it seemed more like another chore. But she really couldn’t say no; well at least not to Rarity. Her and Applejack were good friends but she knew if she said no, Rarity would just continue to beg until Applejack said yes. So there really was no way out of it. “Alright. I’ll do it.”
“Excellent! Oh but I simply must make you an outfit for the occasion! Something simple yet bold; classy and elegant but not too ornate. Oh I simply must get started on the designs! Let me pick up the tab, so we can leave. I need your measurements.”
“But don’t you have my measurements from last time you made me a dress?”
“Applejack, you have to realize that a pony’s body constantly changes. Your measurements may be different from the last time you wore a dress.”
Applejack gave Rarity a crossed look. “And what is that suppose to mean?”
“Nothing darling!” Rarity replied nervously sensing the offended tone of Applejack’s voice. “For all we know you could have lost a few pounds! You do look a bit thinner.”
“Riiiight.”
***
After dealing with Rarity’s fashion madness, Applejack went back to her attic and dug around for some old sheet music. Most of them were well aged and had a golden brown tint to them. They were beautiful in their own way but you couldn’t have yellow-brown sheet music. In their delicate state, enough mishandling and they could disintegrate in her hooves at any moment. She had to go shopping for newer copies. She only hoped that the music store was still run by that old grey stallion. If it was, then he will keep this on a hush hush basis. This would make her situation much easier by eliminating a possibly arduous and tiresome explanation. It was awkward enough explaining why she was picking the violin up again to her family. But it wasn’t difficult either. She just had to say “Rarity” and they all understood. Still, Applejack wondered why saying “Rarity” was just as good as giving a speech. Maybe there was something they knew that they weren’t telling her. Whatever it was, it needed to wait. There was music to be learned.
To her convenience, the music store was still owned by the same stallion. He didn’t seem to recognize her, but then again, she really didn’t care if he did or not. She bought only the necessities: Sheet music, a simple metronome and a fold up music stand. With her new supplies, she headed back home and walked up back to the attic where this whole situation started and set up shop. She set up the music stand and placed the first piece of music on the stand.
The music in front of her was a bit foreign. She remembered playing it; the title seemed familiar, but the notes themselves didn’t make much sense. When she played for Rarity, it was mainly from muscle memory. She only knew where to put her hooves at the right time; she had no idea what notes she playing.
Applejack took a deep breath and took things very slowly and went through a mental check list. “Alright. First things first: Key. Let’s see. Uh...Three flats.... so that means it’s in the key of.....A flat? No. E flat. Go to the last flat then go back one. That’s the rules. Okay then, next is...uh...meter? Yeah, it was meter. Let’s see...uh that is 4/4, I think. Yeah, it’s definitely 4/4. Oh my. This piece has a few ledger lines. What the heck is that note? Okay the top line is....” Applejack tapped the music with her bow counting the lines. “Every Good Boy Does Fine. Okay so ‘F’. Now let’s see: F, G, A flat, B flat, C. Okay so it’s ‘C’.” After a good ten minutes AJ managed to dissect the first three measures. She looked at the remaining 6 pages of music filled with much more complicated measures of music. She sighed once again. “What have I gotten myself into?”
***
Two weeks had passed relatively fast. After her initial setback and after playing for a while, she began to remember all of her old musical habits and sped through a lot of music. It wasn’t so much as learning the music anymore as it was mastering it. Like she told Rarity, she had an unusual knack for the violin. It felt like all she had to do was shake off some cobwebs and her playing was just as good as the day when she stopped practicing all those years ago.
Applejack had gone through all her repertoire and decided it was best to go with the sonata that she had played for Rarity. It was the the one that was the cleanest and she figured that Rarity deserved to hear the rest of the piece.
An old music ritual she remembered was to not overwork yourself on the day of the performance. She decided to just go through one or two run throughs of the sonata and then go to Rarity’s to pick up her dress. Knowing her, she would probably make Applejack get a makeover before putting on the dress but she figured that was it was inevitable. No use in trying to avoid something that couldn’t be helped.
Applejack would be lying if she said that she wasn’t at least a little bit nervous. She wasn’t afraid of crowds. She performed in front of them all the time at rodeos, but it was the fact that this was the first time she played in front of a crowd that made her uncomfortable. It was a new experience so of course she was afraid of what was not familiar. Despite her practice she still was afraid of making a fool of herself. She talked it over with Rarity but all she did was reassure she was doing fine and to not worry about it. It wasn’t that great of a help to be honest. Of course Rarity would say that Applejack had nothing to worry about. She would still be her friend whether she messed up or not so it wasn’t really that comforting. Her family didn’t know much about music, so she couldn’t talk to them either. She really was on her own this time. That’s what scared her the most, she figured.
But scared or not, she promised Rarity she would perform tonight and that was she was going to do. She finished her warm up and slight practice and headed over to the boutique.
***
The dress that Rarity made for Applejack was as she described it. It was made of a rich vibrant red-orange that complimented her coat. It was accented by simple brown spirals that flowed down the side of the dress and curled up on themselves like vines on the side of a house. The design was beautiful and embodied her down to Earth spirit. The dressed flowed from her shoulders leaving them exposed to help her forelegs move freely and play much more comfortably. Yes, it another monument to Rarity’s generosity. The white unicorn even insisted on styling her mane. Rarity decided it would be a great idea to style Applejack’s mane to look like the one she had when she was visiting her relatives in Manehattan but with a more casual feel. She figured it would suit the dress as well as the music she was going to play. After many hours of preparation, Applejack was finally ready.
Before she headed out from the boutique Applejack looked at one of the many mirrors that Rarity had in her shop. As she looked at the reflection that stared back, she couldn’t recognize the pony that stood in her place. There was no hat; her familiar ponytail was replaced by a hairdo that delicately wrapped around her head decorating it with her natural golden locks. Rarity even let her borrow some jewelry for the performance despite Applejack’s protest. The image she saw in the mirror was not herself. It bothered her a bit but she had to deal with it for a few hours. That was the point of getting dressed though; she wasn’t suppose to look like herself. She knew ponies weren’t expecting her on the stage tonight and even if she performed they way she did for Rarity, the ponies in the audience might not take her as serious if she looked like she belonged on the farm rather than on stage. At least with the the dress, it looked like she had done this a thousand times before. She grabbed her violin case, headed out the door and into the afternoon sun.
***
The venue of sorts was a small cafe that served coffee and assorted baked goods. Since it was a very nice day giving way to an even nicer night, they decided to host the event outside. The stage itself was a simply one tier platform that raised the pony who was on it slightly above the sitting ponies’ heads. In front of the stage were white linen clothed tables that could have seated four or five ponies, although Applejack doubted that all the tables would be full.
To her surprise, ponies began filling up the tables. Apparently this little “open stage” night was more popular than she thought. She wondered if it was the the talent or the food that brought in the crowd. Whatever it was, it practically filled up the entire audience. The ponies on the performing list had to stay inside of the cafe and wait for another pony to signal them to walk onto the stage.
Applejack was the last of six ponies to go on. Before her was either singers, comedians, or poets. She looked outside to see the audience. The butterflies in her stomach felt like they were ready to burst out of her chest. She glanced towards the back row of tables. In the center of row were her friends all huddled up around the little candle that decorated each table. In the moon and candle light, she saw Rarity talking to Fluttershy, Pinkie Pie telling some joke to Twilight and Rainbow looking bored out of her mind. She didn’t mind. Rainbow was Rainbow and she didn’t expect that to change.
The more the line dwindled, the more Applejack began to feel nervous. The sound of light applause after each act was like torture. After each act , the ponies on stage joined the audience making it grow a little more. As the hour progressed, it was soon her turn. The pony before her was reading a poem that she wasn’t paying much attention too. In her head, Applejack was reviewing the music: every note, articulation, phrase, and dynamic must be accounted for. Whether it was applebucking, rodeo tricks, or playing the violin, perfection is the key.
Her concentration was broken by the pony who was in charge of the door. He gently tapped her shoulder and signaled that it was her turn to walk the stage. Applejack gulped and crossed the door’s threshold. Once she was outside, she felt all the eyes fall upon her. The sensation was overwhelming and frightening. She climbed the short stairs to get on top of the stage. As she did this an announcer next to the stage gave her a brief introduction. “Up next, we have Ms. Applejack playing the violin.” Once her named was announced, Applejack could hear confused murmurs across the audience. Their facial expressions were a mixture of confusion and bewilderment. She could have sworn she heard somepony say “That’s Applejack?” probably commenting about her appearance.
She made it to the center stage and placed the violin case she had in front of her. She opened the case and took out the pre rosined bow and violin. She plucked the strings just to make sure they were still in tune. The E string was a bit flat but that wasn’t a problem. She gripped the violin with her chin to hold it in mid air and began turning the small dials to tune it. While she was doing this the conversations began to become a bit more ecstatic and a tad bit judgemental. To the other ponies it must have looked weird and a bit amusing to see the proud work horse in a fancy dress.
Applejack thought back to what Rarity said a few weeks ago about how these ponies saw her. These ponies thought this would be the last thing they would ever see from her: in a dress that marvels a Manehattan spirit with an instrument that has a rustic and sophisticated nature. It must have been confusing and maybe a tad bit terrifying for them to experience such a change. Like Rarity, they probably thought she was going to play country or something like that. But she couldn’t let such thoughts get to her. She had to stay focus.
Applejack lifted her bow and was about play when all of a sudden out of the audience she heard a shout. “Hey AJ! Play Discord went down to Georgia!” The request came from none other than rambunctious Rainbow Dash trying to have some fun from her friend’s awkward situation. She saw Rarity quickly jab Rainbow in the side to silence her, but her idea quickly spread throughout the audience. One by one ponies began to name songs that sounded like tunes the farm pony should have known. They ranged from local folk songs to well known country tunes. She even heard somepony suggest the forever ridiculous ‘Freebird’. The sound of the requests were like a hard summer’s rain against a tin roof; completely blocking Applejacks inner thoughts. She couldn’t concentrate and soon Applejack became infuriated from the lack of courtesy and respect. The one thing that was suppose to be in her mind was now replaced with a new and frankly asinine idea. ‘I’m sorry, Rarity.’ she thought. ‘You’re going to have to hear the rest of that Sonata later.’
As the roar of requests continued Applejack closed her eyes, lifted her bow to the night sky and gently placed it upon the old violin’s strings and drew back on them slowly. The sound that creeped out from the violin hushed the once riled up crowd. Applejack began to play an entirely different piece of music than what was planned. It was a ballade that she practiced but never intended to play. But now that her situation had changed she felt that she needed to play this piece as if it was to prove her own self worth to the audience; something she never thought she would want to do, let alone need to.
The ballade began by Applejack slowly climbing up dissonant and chromatic minor sixths, giving off a haunting presence to the crowd and the atmosphere. The ghastly climbing intervals gave way to a wailing screech that cried in the night sky. The cry soften to a beckoning call that was soft and demanded the audience to sit on the edge of their seats to hear all the subtle nuances in the melody’s speech. The melody became a melancholy sob that grew from the ashes of the call and leaned on the listeners ears telling them of an untold sorrow.
The audience was completely silent as the performance went on. It was either from shock or utter awe of the event that played out in front of them but whatever it was, it kept them quiet. Rarity sat along with her other four friends listening to the music that came from the unlikely candidate. Even her friends, whom each of them Applejack was close to, couldn’t even begin to describe how surreal it was to see Applejack play something so elaborate and extravagant. Even though Rarity had heard Applejack play before, she still could not help but be captivated by her performance. The sonata she played all those weeks ago was spectacular but the music she was hearing was different. It felt painful like when you hear a sad song and can’t help but feel what the artists was going through. Rarity saw how Applejack was being treated before her performance and saw the look of irritation on her face. She could not help but feel that she was expressing her emotion through the violin. But more likely she believed Applejack was just playing this to show off and to quiet the rude ponies. Still, she was enticed by her friend’s sound and hung on to every note as if it meant the world to her.
On the stage, Applejack finished the lyrical passage of the piece and segued into a more faster, gloomy technical section. The decorated cowpony raced through ascending chromatic scales that should have been near to impossible for her to play but her hoof just slid across the hoof board and her bow sawing away at the strings. As the bow glided across the strings, hairs began snapping; cracking under the pressure that Applejack was putting on them. When she reached the near end of her hoof board, the music suddenly became very violent and unsetting. She began playing fast octave leaps quickly jumping from the highest string to the lowest string in a fraction of a second; an awesome display of Earth pony dexterity. It was this skill that made the transition seamless as the music shifted to an offset dance like scherzo with such crashing dissonances that it gave an uneasy feeling.
The audience below sat at their tables gazing at what they were seeing and hearing. The music rang in the air electrifying the night’s cool atmosphere. The candles that dimly glowed on the tables and mixed with the Luna’s bright moonlight adding more magic to Applejack’s performance. The musty yellow glow suited the music making an eerie yet entrancing ambience amplifying its effects on each of the ponies’ hearts and minds
Because she was so indulged into her performance, Applejack didn’t notice but her mini recital was drawing on a bigger crowd than she expected. The music bled out from the cafe and spread throughout a large part of Ponyville. Residents in their homes and out on the street began to wonder where the mystical music was coming from and soon ventured out exploring the quaint town to discover the source. Like the Pied Piper and his mice, the music hypnotized them, calling them out to see the musician who created it all. When their odd odyssey came to an end they, like the audience at the cafe, were caught by the mystery how an unlikely mare was creating something that seemed close to impossible.
While it was safe to say that a lot of ponies were not familiar with the piece that Applejack was playing, it was obvious that it was about to end. The tempo increased dramatically becoming almost too fast for the orange mare to play. The bow strokes were smaller and more staccato almost being classified as noise; upon which Applejack played a short and detached melody. It almost sounded like if it was two violins playing instead of one. The melody raced to the top of the instrument’s range and quickly dived into ascending and descending arpeggiated melody that mimicked the raw power of a raging sea swelling in the middle of a violent storm. Then out of nowhere the detached melody came back with a vengeance. It was bitter, harsher and frankly scarier. She climbed to the very brink of audible notes and abruptly came to a cesura but Applejack held her pose signaling that there was still more to play. She gripped the bow even harder for what was about to come.
The next series of notes were chromatic sevenths that seemed to lead to nowhere in particular. Each one dug into the strings so angrily that it seemed like the the strings were going to bust at any moment. It was a miracle that they stood their ground and took their punishment with gusto. The chords grew louder and louder until they reached the designated end and came crashing down with a final downstroke that rung in the air like a blow to the head.
Applejack held her pose for a brief moment then she slowly put down instrument down from her chin to her side.The bow’s hairs were frayed and looked like they went through a machine which then spat it out into a razor factory. Applejack’s breathing was labored and heavy. It burned every time she inhaled the brisk night air. It kind of reminded her of the many races she had with Rainbow Dash except her legs didn’t burn as well. Her eyes had been closed the entire performance, lost in concentration, caught in a zone in which she barely knew. Still with her eyes close, she awoken from the zone and became aware of the silence around her.
She slowly opened them to see the stunned audience. The space was quiet, even the crickets seemed to stop in their place. For a moment it was just the audience staring at Applejack and vice versa.
Out of the void of sound, a noise blessed the crowd with its presence; it was an unknown pony slowly clapping their hooves together. The pony’s sound grew by one, then by two, then by ten, and then soon the entire audience erupted in a frenzy of applause and praises. It was at this time Applejack noticed the crowd was much bigger than the last time she saw it. She turned her head to see a crowd, about twice as big as the audience sitting at the tables, that surrounded the stage. They too gave her an outstanding ovation. It seemed that the humble farm pony was literally surrounded by adoration and acclaim.
In complete shock, Applejack stood there trying to take in the scene she saw. It seemed like some sort of fantasy. These were ponies applauding her for a long forgotten talent that no one knew she had. The absurdity of it all was baffling and almost comical. Applejack couldn’t help but smile. Never in her life did she expect ponies to be cheering for her for something that was artsy. Whenever she was at rodeos, the crowd only cheered for the winner, not really caring for anypony else. Sure the audience would clap as the announcer would shout the placings, but they never drowned the runner ups in the same amount of glory as the blue ribbon. Now as she stood in front of a roaring audience that loved her not because she won anything by displaying physical strength and stamina but because she created something that touched them on a deeper level than visual aestheticism, she finally understood what Rarity was trying to explain during their lunch all those weeks ago.
Applejack looked around saw the faces of the ponies who cheered for her. She saw tears in some of their eyes while in others she saw blissful joy. She couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in what she did and couldn’t help but feel a brand new type of happiness which she couldn’t begin to describe. But in her daze, she almost forgot the most important thing she was suppose to do after a performance.
She stood in the dead center of the stage, lowered her head, and gave a bow.
As she stood back up, she saw across the audience sea of shouts Rarity in the back with her cheering friends. She saw tears of joy in her eyes giving a twinkle in the bright moonlight. It was at that moment Applejack realized that all of this would not have happened if it weren’t for her. If Rarity had not believed in her and convinced her to play this show, she would never discovered a new side of herself and feel such an amazing energetic emotion in her heart. She was truly grateful. As she began to head out, she gave one last look to her friend in the audience.
‘Thank you, Rarity.’