Café Luna

by Late_To_The_Party

Rating: everyone
Tags: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Romance, Princess Luna, Octavia
Length: 5138

Music is everything for Octavia but, one night when she visits a café run by Princess Luna, she may find she wants more in her life.

Music is everything for Octavia but, one night when she visits a café run by Princess Luna, she may find she wants more in her life.

Entry for the Random Romance contest: Octavia and Luna

Published 2013-06-27 15:40:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-06-27 15:40:02 UTC

Café Luna

Octavia loved music more than anything. Listening to music or writing music, but most of all playing music. Every night she put on a performance with the rest of her quartet, none of whom loved music quite as much as she did. They each had a life outside of music, but for Octavia, music was her life. Every waking moment—and most of the others—she spent thinking about music. Music never hurt her, music never let her down, and music was always, always there.

And she was content.

They finished a performance for another high-society event—as if they ever played any other kind—and wanted to get something to eat before they parted ways for the night. Frederick suggested a new café he’d heard was opening that night. Café Luna, supposedly named that because it was open all night and closed during the day. Parish thought maybe the owner was hoping the princess would visit since it was named after her. Regardless of the reason for the name, Café Luna was nearby, and it was open, so they agreed to go there.

Octavia carefully packed her cello. Unlike the others, she never trusted someone else to take care of her instrument so she always took it with her. It could be a hassle, but it was worth it to know nothing would happen to it. Octavia lifted the case onto her back and the four ponies followed the dimly lit Canterlot streets to find Café Luna.

It was small and dark; if they hadn’t been looking for it they may not have even noticed it. Tinted windows made it impossible to tell if lights were on inside. Even the sign over the door stating the name of the establishment was illuminated with such a dark blue it was difficult to tell if it was illuminated at all. Beauty scoffed at Frederick’s poor memory of when the café was supposed to open; it obviously hadn’t yet. The four ponies turned away and began making plans to find another eatery open so late when a light appeared behind them. They turned to see what it was just in time to catch a glimpse of the brightly lit interior of the café before the door shut behind a pair of ponies walking away.

Three ponies walked toward the café until one of them realized they were leaving one behind. Frederick hadn’t moved. Instead he glared at Beauty until she apologized for making fun of him. Octavia rolled her eyes and followed the other three musicians into the café. Despite their eccentricities, if there was anypony she would call friends, it would be these three. She didn’t call anypony her friend, but if she did.

And she was content.

Inside, the café was as small as it appeared to be from the outside. There was a bar with a few stools and a hoofful of booths along the windows. Which, if one were to take that literally, would be one booth. So...about six hooffuls of booths; three on either side of the doorway where the quartet was standing.

“Welcome to Café Luna!” a voice called from out of sight behind the bar, presumably from somewhere in the kitchen. “Find a seat and I’ll be with you in a moment.” Something about the way it was said was strange, as though it had been memorized, but not used enough to feel natural to the speaker.

Parish glanced at the seats in the room. One of the booths to the left was occupied, but there was no one to the right, so he led the way to the last booth on the right. Octavia put her cello in the corner by the window and sat next to it so she could have a good view of the café. She never liked having her back to a room. Frederick sat next to her, leaving Beauty and Parish to sit on the other side of the table. The four ponies quickly slipped into conversation.

Since Octavia was seated in the corner, she was the first to see her when she came out of the kitchen. She couldn’t help but stare. “Parish.”

All three of the other ponies at the table looked at her and Parish spoke up. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“The owner isn’t hoping the princess will stop by.”

“What?” he laughed quietly. “Where did that come from?”

Octavia nodded toward the pony approaching their table. The rest of the quartet turned to face her.

Even if there was someone else that looked like her, there was no one who could match her flowing, star-filled mane and tail. Princess Luna smiled warmly at them. “What can I get you?” Again the unnatural tone of memorization.

“Y-You...Y-You’re...” Parish stuttered.

Luna nodded. “...here to take your order.”

“But you’re the princess,” Frederick protested.

“Yes.”

“So why are you taking our order?” Beauty asked as though it were the most obvious question in the world. Or at least in the room. Which, to be fair, it was.

Luna tilted her head slightly. Amusement was clearly visible in her eyes. “Why not?” She looked at Beauty first, waiting for an answer. When a few seconds passed with no response, she looked to Parish, then Frederick, and finally she shifted her gaze to Octavia.

Octavia’s breath caught in her throat and her heart skipped a beat, in addition to any number of other clichés she didn’t care to think about at that moment. Octavia had never actually seen Princess Luna before that day, and yet there she was, almost close enough to touch, looking directly into her eyes. Octavia looked back into Luna’s eyes, not that she had a choice; there was nowhere else she could have possibly looked right then. She didn’t feel her jaw slacken, leaving her mouth hanging open. She didn’t notice as her hooves started to tremble—just a little—the longer she looked into those ancient eyes. Princess Luna noticed.

“Are you feeling unwell, Octavia?” For the first time since they had entered the café, Luna’s voice didn’t sound rehearsed. Instead Octavia heard only genuine concern for her well-being.

Octavia inhaled almost sharply enough to be called a gasp. “You know my name,” she whispered.

“Of course I do. I know all your names. Octavia, Frederick Horseshoepin, Parish Nandermane, and Beauty Brass.” Luna nodded to each of them in turn. “What I do not know,” she added with a smirk, “is what you would like to order.”

Octavia felt blood rush into her face and she looked at the table before Luna could re-establish eye contact. If she did that, there would be no way Octavia could look away, just like before. If she got lost in those eyes again, Luna would know, and—Wait, know what? What am I so worried about?

She heard Beauty order something.

Sure, she had felt some twinge of something when Luna had said her name, but it was just surprise that the princess knew who she was.

She heard Parish order something.

And sure, that twinge of something was replaced by twinges of something less pleasant—if that first twinge could have been called pleasant. Was it pleasant?—when Luna said the names of the other ponies at the table. That was just because the princess knew who they all were and there was nothing special about her, right?

She heard Frederick order something.

Why did it hurt a little that the princess didn’t seem to think there was anything special about her?

No one was talking; it was her turn to order, and they were all staring at her, waiting.

“Um...” She swallowed and cleared her throat, but couldn’t get her voice to rise above a whisper. “I’ll just have some iced tea.” Her stomach protested weakly; she had intended to order some food when she came in but couldn’t think of anything other than iced tea.

She meant to steal a quick glance but when she looked up Luna met her eyes again and she couldn’t look away. Luna smiled and whatever little pains she had inadvertently caused disappeared from Octavia’s mind. “Iced tea. Got it.” She broke eye contact and walked back to the kitchen, reciting the orders she’d just received.

Octavia sighed softly and watched her go with a slight smile. Then her eyes widened and her smile disappeared. Oh no. The blood which had surged upwards to give her face a pink tinge retreated, leaving her pale. I have a crush on Princess Luna.

She felt someone’s hoof shaking her gently. She gasped slightly and looked around at the concerned faces surrounding her.

Frederick stopped shaking her. “Are you okay?”

Octavia cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just tired.”

Beauty leaned forward. “Are you sure?”

Octavia avoided making eye contact. “I’m sure.”

“Okay,” Beauty said slowly. She wasn’t quite convinced, but she let it go anyway. She tried to return the others to their previous conversation. Octavia looked at the window and thought that maybe, just maybe, she should think of Beauty Brass as her friend. She was definitely acting like one.

The window was interesting. Octavia could clearly see the street outside, and yet from outside they couldn’t see in. In her experience one could usually see into the light side of the glass from the dark side, not the other way around. She wondered if it was some kind of spell Luna had cast. It was very impressive; was there no limit to what she could—Oh, for crying out loud. This is ridiculous! I met her no more than two minutes ago and I’m suddenly head over hooves for her? I don’t need anypony! I’m happy alone! I’ve never felt like this about anypony before, so why her? Why now?

She stared at the window until a clattering of dishes caught her attention. Luna was coming back to the table carrying a tray of food and drinks with her mouth. She wasn’t doing a good job of it, but managed to get the tray onto the table without dropping anything. She passed out the food the other three had ordered by hoof and Octavia’s stomach grumbled again. Luna started to pass out the drinks, but her hoof was unsteady and she spilled Parish’s all over the table, his food, and him.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry!” Luna turned around, jumped over the bar, grabbed a towel, and jumped back, quickly cleaning up the spill. “I’ll get another for you!” She finished cleaning up the mess and gave Frederick and Beauty their drinks, then set a coffee in front of Octavia. She took the tray back to the kitchen with Parish’s soggy food and empty cup.

Octavia picked up her coffee and sipped it. She grimaced; she’d never really liked coffee that much. Beauty noticed. “Didn’t you order iced tea? You should send the coffee back.”

“No, it’s fine,” Octavia mumbled. She sipped at the coffee again and didn’t make a face at it. “See? It’s...good.”

Beauty raised an eyebrow at her, but didn’t say anything else. She shook her head and turned her attention to her own order. Octavia sipped her coffee again. She stared at the ripples and reflections on the surface of the liquid and considered how dark it was, just like—

Luna came back out of the kitchen and Octavia tried her hardest not to watch the way she walked through the café. She tried not to watch and wonder why Luna didn’t use magic to carry the tray holding Parish’s order. It didn’t matter. Her magic, her decision to use it or not. Then there was still the question of why she was running a café at all. Was ruling the night not keeping her busy enough? The check was a little confusing as well. Yes, Luna should be paid for her work but, at the same time, what could she possibly need the money for?

Before Octavia knew it, her coffee was cold and her companions were leaving money to pay for their food. She fought back the incredibly irrational urge to give Luna all her bits, and instead left just enough to pay for the beverage she didn’t even drink. She hefted her cello and followed the others outside. The darkness which met them as the door closed bore a similarity to the way Octavia tried to deny to herself that she felt about leaving Luna behind.

The other three, particularly Beauty, tried to engage her in conversation, but she barely paid any attention and didn’t give more than the minimum replies to direct questions. Eventually the time came to split up. The others went their separate ways and Octavia walked the last few blocks home alone. She climbed the stairs of her apartment building and avoided the creaky floorboards in the hall on her way to her apartment.

She went inside and carefully shut the door. Too fast or too slow and it would make a horrible squeal. She had almost mentioned it to the building manager, but as long as she was careful, it wasn't a problem. She told herself, like she always did, that she might mention it to him tomorrow.

She set her cello down, ever so gently, where it belonged. She opened the case and checked it over, just to be sure. Once she was satisfied that it was still in perfect condition, she closed the case again.

She looked around the room. While not exactly luxurious, her apartment was comfortable. It wasn’t the grand lifestyle she’d imagined when she was young, but who ever got the life they’d expected? She had her music, and that was enough. She walked into her bedroom and removed her collar and bow tie before climbing into bed. She closed her eyes and tried to sleep but, despite the late hour, restlessly tossed and turned, unable to get comfortable. She opened her eyes and sighed with frustration. She rolled over and stared out the window at the star-filled sky until she couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore.

And she was...content.

The next evening, they performed again. Octavia’s music wasn’t up to her usual standards. Her life was being frequently interrupted by thoughts of something else. She tried not to admit to herself what that something was. After the event ended, Frederick asked if anyone wanted to get something to eat.

“We could go back to Café Luna.” Octavia kicked herself mentally for mentioning the café.

“I’d rather not,” Parish laughed. “I don’t really want to get my drink in my lap again.”

“That was just an accident.” Shut up, Octavia. Just let them pick somewhere else.

Frederick nodded. “That’s true, but I thought that you, of all of us, would want to go somewhere else; she didn’t even get your order right.” Frederick and Parish laughed.

“Come on, give her a break, she was trying.” Oh my gosh why do I keep talking?

"Why don't we go to the place next door?" Beauty suggested. “It is next door, after all. Café Luna is halfway across town.”

Octavia was both relieved and disappointed when everyone agreed with Beauty’s choice. She went with them—after packing her cello, of course. It was, as Beauty had said, right next door.

It was a nice enough place. The service was good; Parish pointed out more than once how a beverage had not been spilled until Beauty told him to stop. Likewise, Frederick commented on the fact that everyone got what they ordered. The food was good, although Octavia never was able to remember what she had ordered; it just didn’t seem important. They talked, but mostly Octavia didn’t. She kept staring through the nearest window into the darkness outside. They had given up trying to talk to her by the time the meal ended and they went their separate ways again, although Beauty did tell her that if she needed anything, even just to talk about anything, she should stop by.

Octavia once again climbed the familiar stairs to her apartment, avoided the creaky floorboards, and carefully shut the door she again hadn’t mentioned to the building manager. She set her cello case where it belonged, opened it, and closed it again after no more than confirming that her cello was inside. She took a few steps toward her bedroom and sat down in the middle of the floor. She glanced at the night sky and sighed wistfully. She closed her eyes and cursed quietly. Something had to be done. This was interfering with her life; she had to put an end to it. She had been told that the best way to get over a crush was to get to know the pony in question. Her heart leapt a little at the thought. She told herself it was just the thought of getting over the crush she was excited about, and it had nothing whatsoever to do with seeing Luna again. Getting to know the object of a crush made you stop seeing them as perfection; you got to know their faults. Obviously that was what she needed to do. She barely refrained from skipping down the hall to the stairs.

The café looked the same as it had the night before. Until she opened the door to see the light inside, she might have said it was closed. Once inside, it still looked like it might be closed. At a glance there seemed to be no one in the building at all. A second look revealed a little wisp of blue sticking out from one of the booths to her left.

She cleared her throat. “Hello?”

Another throat cleared to her left. A second later Luna got up out of the booth. “Welcome to Café Luna. Find a seat and I’ll be with you in a moment.” Without a glance at Octavia, Luna walked back into the kitchen.

Octavia went back to the corner seat she had used the night before and was glad she had decided to come back. Luna’s faults were starting to show. That was important for ending the crush. After a moment, Luna came out of the kitchen. She slowly walked around the bar and came to the table. She didn’t smile.

“Octavia. What can I get you?”

“Princess? Is something wrong?”

“Of course not.” Luna rolled her eyes. “A café is supposed to be empty.”

Octavia could have left the café right then, and she may have never thought fondly of Princess Luna again. It may have been enough to put an end to her crush once and for all. If she had left.

She stayed where she was.

“With that attitude, I’m not surprised there’s no one else here!”

Luna sighed and drooped a little. “I’m sorry. The last customers who came in here laughed at me and left. That was over an hour ago.”

“Why would they laugh at you? You’re the princess!”

Luna laughed bitterly. “Yes, I’m a princess who can’t even carry a tray of food without dropping it.”

“Yes, about that. Why aren’t you using your magic to carry the food?”

Luna looked shocked. “I wouldn’t dare!”

Octavia’s jaw dropped. “You wouldn’t dare? You wouldn’t dare? Why not?”

“It is tradition that earth ponies handle food. It would be disrespectful to use magic when I’m doing a job held for so long by those who had no magic.”

“There are a lot of unicorns who work with food now. They use magic. I’m sure no one would mind—”

“Perhaps not.” Luna straightened up. “Many traditions have been lost in the time I was gone, but I will not assist in the destruction of cultural heritage.” Luna spoke with a tone of such finality that there could be no argument, despite the antiquated perspective she presented.

“I see.”

Octavia and Luna waited in awkward silence for a minute.

“So. What can I get you?”

Octavia tilted her head. Luna clearly needed help. “A menu would be a good start. You didn’t pass them out last time.”

“Oh. Right. I knew I was forgetting something.” Luna bit her lip and didn’t move.

Octavia sighed. This was going to be more work than she’d expected. “Do you have any menus?”

Luna mumbled something, but Octavia couldn’t hear her.

“I beg your pardon?”

Luna pursed her lips and looked away toward the kitchen for a few seconds. She opened her mouth with an audible smack and sighed. “No. No, I do not.”

“How did you forget about menus? Did you have any help with this at all?”

Luna shook her head. “This was an empty lot when I started.”

“You built it yourself?”

“I did.”

“That is truly impressive, your highness.”

“Thank you. But please, call me Luna.”

A giggle slipped out of Octavia’s mouth before she stopped herself with a sharp breath. Where did that come from? She cleared her throat and restored her dignified demeanor. “All right then, Luna. You have had no help with this at all? No one has taught you how to run a café?”

“No.”

“In that case, there’s only one thing to do.” Octavia scooted down the bench until she could stand up in front of Luna. “I’ll have to teach you.”

“You? You know how to run a café? I thought you were a cellist.”

Octavia gave Luna a half-smile. “We don’t all just find our talents in school and do nothing but that for the rest of our lives. Some of us have to search a long time before we find what we’re meant to do.” Octavia walked past Luna, who stood watching her over her shoulder. Octavia turned back toward her and nodded toward the kitchen. “Come on. Let’s get started.”

For the next few hours, Octavia taught Luna how to run a café. Everything from cooking the food to cleaning up the tables afterwards. She was a quick to understand what needed to be done, but doing it correctly took longer. Most of the night was spent teaching her to carry things without magic. Especially a notepad and pencil; if Luna couldn’t remember a group’s order, then she needed to write it down. They talked about magic, and about doing things without magic. They talked about classical music and Luna’s responsibilities. The more they talked, the more Octavia failed to carry out her reason for being there; ending the crush. She didn’t care.

It was very late before Octavia left, after reminding Luna to get some menus printed. By the time she got back home, the early risers were already getting up for the day. She dragged herself to her room and climbed into her bed. She rolled over to face the window. Outside, the darkness in the sky was fading away and all the stars were disappearing as night gave way to the dawn, reminding her that, though it had been a good night, it was over, and she may never have a night like it again. Octavia turned away from the window and shut her eyes.

And she wasn’t content.

The next night, Octavia played worse than she did the night before. Badly enough that the others noticed and wanted to know what was wrong. She told them that she hadn’t gotten enough sleep. She didn’t say what had kept her up so late. The other three decided to go to a nearby restaurant for dinner. Octavia declined. She didn’t tell them she was going back to Café Luna, but after putting her cello in her apartment, that’s where she went.

Luna had gotten menus printed, and she was doing a much better job of handling what few customers there were. She was still glad for Octavia’s help, and whenever there were no customers they sat together and talked. By the time Octavia left, it was nearly dawn again.

So it went for the next four days. Octavia spent her mornings asleep, her evenings playing her cello, and all night she spent at Café Luna. Her life was more than just her music, though her playing had improved again as she grew used to her new schedule.

After a week of going to Café Luna every night, Octavia went back again. The other musicians had stopped trying to convince her to go somewhere else. Octavia suspected Beauty was behind that particular kindness. The café was dark, like always. Octavia walked to the door and—

The door wouldn’t open.

Octavia looked around. It was night, so the café should have been open. That’s how it worked. Luna raised the moon, then she came to the café. The moon had been raised. Octavia tried the door again.

It was locked.

She knocked and waited, but there was no answer. She looked at the sign over the door. With how dim the light had been before, it was difficult to tell, but it looked like the sign wasn’t lit at all. The café was closed.

The café couldn’t be closed. It was night, so it was supposed to be open. It’s not that she needed Luna to be there. She didn’t depend on seeing her every night. It didn’t hurt that she wasn’t there. The princess must have had something more important to do. Something she hadn’t mentioned to Octavia in any of the hours they’d spent talking over the last few nights.

She was a little worried. What if something had happened to Luna? Was she hurt? Sick? Octavia tried to tell herself that was ridiculous. There were dozens if not hundreds of ponies looking after Luna. She would be fine. But...if she was fine, then why wasn’t she at the café? The time spent at the café—with Luna—had become the most important thing in Octavia’s life. Wasn’t it important to Luna too?

Octavia waited, checking the door in case it was stuck, knocking in the hopes that Luna had just not heard her all the other times. After three hours she gave up. She trudged home, all the while hoping that any moment she would wake up to find that it was merely a dream. It wasn’t, but worse than that, it followed her into her dreams. She fell asleep and was in front of the café again. She couldn’t shake the feeling that getting inside was the most important thing in the world. Her life depended on it.

The café was locked. No matter how hard she pulled on the handle, it wouldn’t open. No matter how much she knocked or how loud she called Luna’s name, there was no answer. She wouldn’t give up. She couldn’t give up.

Luna was there.

“Octavia. Why are you calling my name?”

Octavia continued her efforts to open the door. “The café is closed!”

Luna looked at the door. “It would seem so. Why do you think that is?”

Octavia let go of the door and turned to face Luna. “You tell me! I went there just like I have for a week and it was locked and empty!”

Luna nodded. “I see. I was only running the café for a week in an effort to get closer to some of my subjects. To be honest, it didn’t turn out as well as I had hoped. I was...not adequately prepared.”

It was even worse than Octavia had feared. It wasn’t just a single incident Luna hadn’t told her about. She was done, and hadn’t even thought it important to mention. Hadn’t thought Octavia important enough to tell. “So...it’s over?” Octavia’s throat convulsed with the effort to not cry.

Luna sighed. “Well, yes—”

Octavia bowed her head to hide the tears she couldn’t stop. “I don’t want it to be over.” Her voice cracked.

Luna’s mouth formed an ‘oh’ of realization. She placed a hoof under Octavia’s chin and gently lifted her head. Octavia shut her eyes, forcing out another tear. Luna leaned forward and kissed her cheek, effectively wiping away the tear and startling Octavia into opening her eyes. Luna smiled at her. “Then, for you, it isn’t. Come back to the café after your performance tomorrow. I will be there.”

Octavia gasped and opened her eyes. Luna kissed her. She said to meet her. But Octavia was asleep. She must have just been dreaming. Luna had said she could visit dreams, but had she visited Octavia’s, or had that all been a figment of imagination? Octavia tried not to get her hopes up, but she didn’t get any more sleep that night.

The next performance was the worst one Octavia had done in years. It got so bad that they had to stop early; she just couldn’t play. All she could think about was the dream. She had to know if it was real or not. When asked, she told Beauty, Frederick and Parish that everything would be fine tomorrow, one way or another. None of them understood, but they accepted it and let her go. For the first time, Octavia left her cello with the other instruments.

She ran to the café.

Octavia was breathing hard by the time she reached the café, and she had stopped running a few blocks earlier. Life as a musician didn’t give her much in the way of athletic stamina. She bit her lip and walked to the door. She cringed as she reached out and grasped the handle.

Please be unlocked. She pulled. The door didn’t budge. There was no sound from inside. The sign was still off.

She sat down on the ground and tears flowed. It had all been a dream. She had gotten her hopes up for nothing. After seconds or hours, she couldn’t tell, she heard a pegasus land behind her. She didn’t bother to turn around or look up. Even if she’d cared to find out who it was, she didn’t want them to see her tear-streaked face. Whoever it was, they hesitated behind her.

“Octavia.”

It was funny how only a week earlier Octavia had no idea who that voice belonged to, and now she couldn’t possibly mistake it for anyone else’s. She hurriedly wiped her eyes and turned to look at Luna.

Luna gasped. “You’ve been crying! What’s wrong?”

“You weren’t here,” Octavia whispered.

“I’m sorry. You never got here this early before. I thought your performance ran later.”

Octavia sniffled. “We stopped early. I couldn’t concentrate. I wasn’t sure if it was just a dream.”

Luna walked forward uncertainly. “You were asleep, but it wasn’t just a dream.”

Octavia smiled hopefully. Luna took that as encouragement and leaned down to kiss away a tear which stubbornly clung to Octavia’s cheek.

Octavia giggled softly and sniffled. “I may have to cry more often if that’s how you react to it.”

“Let me assure you, you needn’t cry to get a kiss.” She proved her claim immediately, then unlocked the café door. Octavia followed her inside.

And she was happy.