Octavia Sings the Blues

by GrassAndClouds2

Rating: teen
Tags: Slice of Life, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, DJ P0N-3, Alternate Universe, Lyra, Octavia, Bon-Bon
Length: 16068

Octavia's and Bluenote's friendship is at risk of crumbling after the latter misrepresents the former. Can Bluenote fix things?

Bluenote has been teaching Octavia jazz, and Octavia is looking for a way to repay her friend. Since Bluenote is a gourmand, Octavia decides to teach her how to make some traditional recipes from her hometown, including one that she often made with her mother. Unfortunately, Bluenote then tries to share the recipe with others before having fully mastered it... and when others dislike the result, it's Octavia who takes the blame and the humiliation. Can Bluenote find a way to make it up to Octavia?

A Cadanceverse story. The first Cadanceverse story is here, but you don't need to read the others to understand this one.

Published 2014-01-02 01:00:04 UTC
Last updated 2014-04-09 01:28:55 UTC

A Half-Baked Idea

A light, energetic melody flowed up from Octavia's cello into the green, grassy field of Bluenote's backyard. The notes swirled around each other in a simple pattern, one melodic line moving up and down while the harmonic line added hints of color and texture. It was a gentle, peaceful work, with a soft rhythmic pattern providing most of the structure. The notes continued on, marshaled by the rhythm, into the air--

And then a tuba blasted and scattered them into the air.

Octavia looked up from her cello at the smiling Bluenote. "What?" she said. "I thought I had it that time."

"Almost, but your rhythm is still too rigid. Jazz has to breathe!" Bluenote put her mouth back to her tuba and played a similar melody, except that the notes were all slightly different lengths. When Octavia had tried playing that way, it just sounded messy, but Bluenote somehow made it sound organic and natural. "See?" said Bluenote, when she was done. "Like that!"

Octavia Philharmonica smiled and drew back her bow to try it again. "Okay," she said. "Just like that." She played a few notes to warm up. "Thank you again for teaching me, Bluenote. I know I am not your usual type of student."

Bluenote blushed. "You're never too old to learn a new genre!" she said. "Besides, I think everyone should know a little jazz." She winked. "And I'm a teacher, so you should trust me on that."

When Octavia Philharmonica had first come to Ponyville, she had wanted nothing more than to put on a show for Princess Cadance and then resume her musical studies in solitude once she had proven herself. During her stay, though, the tyrant alicorns Burning Sun and Nightmare Moon had escaped from their prisons and resumed their eternal struggle, threatening all of Equestria in the process. Octavia had allied with five other ponies to fight past all kinds of monsters and dangers to locate the Elements of Harmony and purify the tyrants, and by the time she was done, she didn't want to leave her newfound friends behind. And so Cadance had given her a new assignment--to remain in Ponyville, and learn about the music there.

And whom better to learn music from than the town's music teacher?

"I bow to your wisdom," said Octavia, which made Bluenote break out into giggles. "And I do apologize for my lack of progress. I assure you, I am trying--"

"Hey, no worries. You're doing fine." Bluenote smiled. "And I have an idea--"

"HEY TAVI! HOW YA DOIN?"

Both ponies turned to see Vinyl waving at them from the street. She had a little drum on her back, as well as two drumsticks stuck into holsters on her saddle. Despite the fact that it wasn't a particularly sunny day, she was still wearing her usual sunglasses.

"Vinyl! Hello!" Octavia turned to her and inclined her head slightly. "I am doing very well, thank you. How are you doing?"

"Yeah, what's up?" asked Bluenote.

"Heading back from Beebop's. Her big sister got sick and she wanted to play something to cheer her up, so I was over there helping!" Vinyl tapped the drum on her back. "Her parents said no to a big wubstep speaker for some reason, but I think the kiddo and I did alright with a coupe of drums. Put a big smile on her sis's face, that's for sure."

"Vinyl, that's lovely," said Octavia.

"Thanks. Oh, Bluenote--how was the pitaya?"

Bluenote smiled, and Octavia giggled. Bluenote was a gourmand; she loved delicious foods, especially ones she'd never tasted before. "Delicious. Thank you!"

"Pitaya?" asked Octavia.

"A purple-skinned fruit with green spikes and white flesh. Very sweet taste... goes perfectly with vanilla ice cream. Can't get them anywhere near here, though." Bluenote turned back to Vinyl. "Where did you get it?"

"I've got a cousin who does import-export out in Manehattan. He can get almost anything." Vinyl smiled easily. Anyway, I'm headed home, unless you two need something--"

Bluenote brightened. "Actually, Vinyl, maybe you could help us." She turned to Octavia."If you're having trouble playing without an explicit rhythm, why don't we do a trio? Vinyl, could you play a simple rhythm on drums, maybe the one from that song we did two weeks ago? Octavia, Vinyl's got the rhythm, so you don't need to worry about it--just play your own thing. Speed up, slow down, whatever sounds right to you. I'll jump in where I'm needed and help complete the music."

Octavia tilted her head. "Maybe," she said. "Yes, I suppose that could work--"

"Awesome," said Vinyl, trotting over and setting up her drum. "Let's go!"

She began to play a very simple rhythm, an alternation of a hit on the drumskin and a hit on the rim, the latter higher-pitched and tinnier than the former. Octavia counted off, then played a light melody above it, moving fairly freely, though always still in relation to the underlying structure that Vinyl was playing--sometimes three notes against four, other times introducing a syncopation effect so different notes were accented, but still basing her music off of Vinyl's beats.

Bluenote chimed in, playing a tuba solo that flitted from beat to beat, surprisingly fast despite her relatively ponderous instrument. Her melody wove between Vinyl's beats and Octavia's melody, sometimes slightly ahead and sometimes behind. Bluenote looked up at Octavia for a moment and winked, then blasted forward on her melody--moving it up, down, and beyond Octavia's notes in a rush. The message was clear. Catch me if you can!

Octavia smiled and gave chase.

The two melodies raced on, Bluenote's staying ever so slightly ahead of Octavia's. Normally Octavia would have been able to beat Bluenote in most musical contests, but she was still trying to restrict herself to the style of jazz, as Bluenote was teaching her, and her lack of familiarity allowed Bluenote to remain just out of her grasp. Her notes were a measure or two behind, then they closed to a half measure, than a single beat, but the blue tubist remained steadily out of her reach...

Wait! She slowed too soon! Octavia thought.

Bluenote's melody had stopped just short of the beat and the cellist raced ahead. She couldn't land her next note exactly on the beat either, but she got it in just after it, providing a neat punctuated effect with Bluenote's note, then Vinyl's drumbeat, then her own coming in such quick succession. Octavia didn't pause to absorb that effect, though; she darted away, now with Bluenote pursuing. The tubist kept chasing her, but Octavia kept her melody folding about itself and doubling around to evade her opponent. She slowed down for a few notes so that Bluenote overshot and had to spend a second or two heading back down, then accelerated to leave her behind. And so the two played on... until Octavia realized, several minutes later, that she had been using the beats as more of a vague guide than a strict rhythm for some time.

She and Bluenote looked at each other and both grinned, and then they joined up their melodies and brought the piece to a brilliant climax. As they finished, Octavia lowered her cello. "Thank you," she said.

Vinyl was grinned. "Nice tunes, everypony. DIdn't know you could play so limber, Tavi."

"I didn't know it either." Octavia turned to Bluenote, who looked slightly winded but was still smiling brightly. "You are very skilled at leading."

Bluenote blushed again. "Aw, thanks Tavi. But like I said--I knew you could do it. Just needed a little help."

"I will practice and try to reach the point where I can do that on my own." Octavia inclined her head. "Is there anything else for today?"

"I think we're good," said Bluenote.

Octavia smiled at her friends. Yes, she thought. We are.

***

My little pony...
Ah ah ah...
(My Little Pony)
Friendship sounded so off-key to me.
(My Little Pony)
But now you're here, and now I see...
A loyal backing
Honest melodies!
Songs to share
With loving harmonies!
Joyous dance --
Such a lovely feat --
And magic makes the perfect beat!
You are my little ponies...
Friends make the best music of all!

***

"Are you sure there's nothing you want?" asked Octavia. She, Bluenote, and Vinyl were walking through the Ponyville market, watching the farmers and other vendors selling their wares and determining what to buy for lunch. "I feel bad not being able to give you anything in exchange."

Bluenote waved a hoof. "I am a simple mare," she intoned. "You pay my usual rate for a lesson. I couldn't ask for anything more."

"Yes, but... you are my friend. I want to do more." She paused. "I mean, I am learning about bard music from Lyra, and ballroom music from Fluttershy, but I can assist both of them in their performances in exchange. Medley lets me study her natural instruments, and I have helped her build some of them. Vinyl even asked me to teach her some classical theory in exchange for learning about wubstep."

Bluenote turned to Vinyl, who shrugged. "I don't play classical, but that doesn't mean I don't want to know about chord relations and stuff, right? I mean, I've been doing pretty well so far just learning on my own, but Tavi's had all sorts of fancy-shmancy teachers. Gotta give her credit--she knows a lot."

Octavia frowned. "Princess Cadance is not 'shmancy.'"

"Right, sorry." Vinyl didn't look all that sorry, but Octavia knew better than to push it.

Octavia turned back to Bluenote. "You are the only one of my friends whom I am learning from and yet cannot think of anything to give you."

Bluenote trotted a little bit faster until they were side by side, then gave her a warm hug. "I really appreciate that you're thinking of me, but it's fine. This is what I do. I like to do it. If you learn to love jazz like I do, that's all the reward I need."

"Octavia! Vinyl! Bluey!"

The three Element Bearers turned to see Pinkie Pie looking out of the upper window of Sugar Cube Corner and waving her hooves at them. "Pinkie!" yelled Vinyl. "What's up?"

"I really really really need your help!" she called out. "Can you move some stuff with me? Pleasey pleasey? It would be a super-duper big favor!"

The three looked at each other, and then Vinyl smiled. "Pinkie, you cater every party in town. Of course we'll help out. Where to?"

"Thank you so much! You girls are the best!" squeed Pinkie. "I'll see you in the basement!"

In a few moments, Octavia found herself looking around a large cellar containing several pieces of old baking equipment. "Um," she said. "What's going on?"

Pinkie bounced over her head and onto the first piece of equipment, what looked like an ancient fondue fountain. "Mr. and Mrs. Cake want to install more ovens and stuff down here, so they need to get rid of most of this stuff. Since tomorrow's their anniversary, and today's their day off, I thought I'd give them a great surprise by doing it for them! But... it's a lot of things to move for just one little pony, even if she is as adorable as me, and even though I've been going all day I'm worried I won't have enough time and I won't be able to give them the most stupendous surprise they've ever had! So can you help me get some of this out back? I'll bake you cookies!"

It didn't take long to get everything upstairs; while most of what remained was heavy, the four of them together were able to muscle everything up and out the back without difficulty. Pinkie thanked them profusely as she directed them to put the equipment onto one of several carts waiting in the backyard. "Del Trot and a few others are coming by later to help me move this to the scrapyard," she said. "Thanks again!"

Bluenote was looking at the equipment. "Seems a shame to scrap it," she said. "Some of this stuff looks like it still works. You could have a yard sale or something."

"I told them that--I mean, yard sales are super-fun, last year I bought three yards of stuff at one of them!--but they didn't want to. They said that all this stuff is so old that, even if it works, nopony'd want it anymore." She shrugged. "But on the bright side, we're getting a bunch of new ovens! One for cakes, one for pies, one for cakes and pies, one for cakey pies..."

Octavia was about to suggest they leave for dinner--Pinkie was making her hungry--when something in one of the carts caught her eye. Wait. That looks like a... She walked over to the cart. "Pinkie, do you mind if I look at something?"

"Help yourself!"

Octavia climbed on the cart and began to move equipment aside. "Did the Cakes ever sell anything from further away?" she asked.
"Such as desserts originating in foreign countries?"

"No, but I think the pony who owned it before the Cakes bought it did." Pinkie Pie tilted her head. "Right! Mrs. Cake told me about him. Mr. Kuroyaneighgi tried to bake delicious breads from all over the world for Ponyville customers, and he eventually moved to Canterlot so he could be closer to a bunch of really delicious restaurants."

"How did you guess that?" asked Bluenote.

"Because," said Octavia, "I think I just found a tandoor oven."

With a mighty effort, she managed to pick up what looked like a gigantic clay pot and clamber down from the cart. "It's used in a lot of Chenneigh cooking," she said. "Especially breads. When I was little, I... I mean, I spent most of my time practicing my cello. But whenever I had a really bad day, my Mother and I would always bake something really delicious. It cheered me up every time." She smiled. "I have a lot of good memories of that."

She paused, then looked at Bluenote for a moment. "Hey Pinkie? If you are getting rid of all this stuff anyway, do you mind if I keep this?"

"Sure, go for it!"

"Thank you!" Octavia climbed back into the cart and began rooting around, finding what she was looking for--a large spatula, the kind used to carry pizzas, and a gigantic hook that looked almost like a crowbar--and then jumping back down. "Bluenote! Have you tried a lot of Chenneigh cuisine?"

Bluenote shook her head. "Always wanted to, but it's so far away, and nopony cooks it around here..." She trailed off. "Wait."

Octavia beamed. "Then, in gratitude for the music lessons, I would like to prepare some authentic Chenneigh breads for you... and teach you how to prepare them as well. How does that sound?"

For a moment, Bluenote said nothing. Then a teeny, tiny drop of drool showed at the corner of her mouth, and the blue tubist grinned.

"It sounds lovely," she said.

Family Recipe

Octavia grunted as she muscled the tandoor oven into position in Bonbon's side yard. It wasn't a large yard--just a small fenced enclosure that was mostly taken up with Bonbon's plants. On the side against Bonbon's shop was a little herb garden, where the candymare grew the mint, anise, and angelica that went into her candies. Opposite it were three little bushes--strawberry, blueberry, and blackberry--that Bonbon used for smoothies during the summer months. In the middle, though, was an open area, and this was large enough for Octavia's purposes.

"Thank you for helping me, Bonbon." The cellist nodded at her landlord, who had helped her move the oven outside. Now Bonbon gave Octavia a small glass of lemonade, which she sipped in relief. "I had forgotten how heavy these ovens were."

"No problem!" The candymare wiped a bead of sweat off her brow and then stepped back to admire the oven. "I'm always happy to learn about a new way to bake things. Anything else that you need?"

It was a few days later, and morning had just begun. The sun had risen, bright and beautiful, and was bathing the entire town in its soft, warm light. A breeze rustled through the trees of the village, just enough to keep the air cool, but not so much that a jacket or even sweater was needed. Birds sang, and from the town's ponds, a few frogs croaked happily as they hopped about and played their froggy games. It was one of the best mornings that Octavia had seen since she'd moved to Ponvyille, and she was determined to make the most of it.

"I don't think so," said Octavia, looking at the supplies they had brought out. "I have all the ingredients needed to mix the dough, and the oven should be ready as well. This is all I need."

"Oh really?" Bonbon's mouth curled upwards into a teasing smile. "I can see one thing you forgot."

"What's that?"

"A side dish!" Bonbon dashed back into her store and returned a moment later with a bowl full of a thick, white substance. "I read in a book that raita yogurt went well with naan, and... uh, I'm pronouncing that right, aren't I? Raita?'

"Yes, that's correct." Octavia looked at the bowl. The raita yogurt--a traditional sauce in Chenneigh cuisine--smelled delicious to her nose. "I didn't know you knew how to make raita," she said. "It looks sublime."

"I'm full of surprises!" Bonbon passed Octavia a spoon. "Please, try it! You've had the real thing before--I want to know your opinion!"

Octavia tried a spoonful. It was rich and creamy, with a bit of crunch--Bonbon had used cucumber as the vegetable base--and just a hint of spice--a blend of chili and cumin, most likely. The cellist couldn't say that it compard to her mother's or to her family's chef's recipes, but it was still wonderful. "Delicious," she said, in a tone of frank honesty. "Where did you learn to make this?"

"When I first began selling yogurts a few years back, I wanted to find out about all the different types so I could see how I could use them. I mean, it'd be no fun to just stick to the same old stuff everypony in town's had a hundred times." Bonbon grinned. "Raita was one of the types I read about, so I learned to make it to see if I could use it. It actually made a really sweet, healthy desert when I mixed in fruits like mangos and papayas, but I had to get those shipped in to Ponyville, so it wasn't economical to make them here. Still, it was fun learning how to make something new!"

"Indeed." Octavia tried another spoonful, earning a chuckle from Bonbon. "I suppose that, just as I have found it... enlightening... to study musical genres outside my own, you also must enjoy learning how to cook foods besides traditional candies."

Bonbon began to nod, then paused. "Well, it's not just the cooking that's fun--or the playing of music, right?"

"What do you mean?"

"The really fun part is sharing them with your friends!" And Bonbon flicked a speck of the yogurt onto Octavia's nose.

Octavia blinked, saying nothing for a moment... and then smiled. "Yes. Of course."

"HEY!" Both mares turned to see Vinyl Scratch and Bluenote trotting up. Vinyl was waving merrily. "What's up, girls? How's the baking?"

"It hasn't started yet," said Octavia, a slight smile remaining on her lips. "We could hardly begin without you."

"I didn't know you were into cooking, Vinyl," said Bonbon as she let the two into her yard.

"I'm not. Me, I can live on pizza and hay soda." Vinyl grinned. "But new tech I haven't seen in action before? I'm totally there." She tapped the tandoor. "Can this thing really get hotter than a normal oven?"

"Twice as hot," said Octavia, as she bent over the tandoor to move the coal and wood blocks around inside it. "Why?"

Vinyl's answer was a long whistle. "Neato," she said at last. "Where can I get one?"

"Why, are you planning on using one to generate some sort of flamethrower effect in your shows?" asked Octavia, who was learning how Vinyl's mind worked.

"Maaaaybe," said Vinyl.

Bluenote, meanwhile, looked over the ingredients and smiled at each one as if it was an old friend. Her stomach rumbled, and she grinned. "What are we waiting for?" she asked. "Let's get started!"

"You're an eager little filly, aren't you?" joked Bonbon as the four ponies gathered around the table.

"I'm always eager to learn about something that's new and delicious!" Bluenote smiled. "There's something magical about delicious food. The sweet crunch of an apple on the first day of fall, the cool, crisp bite of a carrot when you're hiking through the woods, that little kick of a lemon that garnishes a salad of wilted spinach, fresh goat cheese, and..."

"Bluey, you're making me hungry," drawled Vinyl.

Bluenote blushed. "Sorry. It's just... I'm really excited!" She smiled at Octavia. "Every new food is a new chance for me to taste something delicious, something that makes me really happy. I've already tried most of the recipes I could find in the Ponyville library, so getting to learn something really new and exotic is a great treat." She smiled at Octavia. "Thank you."

Octavia realized she was blushing. She was not familiar with the euphoria that came from helping a dear friend acquire something she really wanted... but she found that she liked the feeling. "It is no trouble at all," she said. "Shall we?"

Vinyl watched Octavia's hooves as the cellist began to divide the ingredients into four equal portions. "Hey, I've got a question. When did you learn to bake? I mean, I thought you practiced music all the time?"

"I was wondering that too," asked Bonbon.

"As I mentioned yesterday, my Mother showed me this recipe."

"But she's a Duchess, right?" asked Bluenote. "I'm surprised she had the time. It sounds like a super-busy job." She grinned. "Plus, if you were practicing your cello so much, I'm surprised you had time."

"She made the time." Octavia smiled as she looked off into the distance. "And as for me..."

***

Several years prior...

A clean, bright melody flowed from a Chenneigh mansion and floated up towards the sky. It was a gorgeous, simple tune, the kind that would please any foal's ear and give them a feeling of warm contentment. Any foal, that is, except the one performing it.

In a small room in the East Wing of the Philharmonica mansion, Octavia Philharmonica was struggling mightily. She was just a little pony, her body shorter than the bow she wielded, and it was hard enough to keep the cello upright. She still wasn't used to balancing on her hind legs, and having to do it on a chair--it was the only way that she could reach the upper portions of the strings--made it all the harder. Plus, of course, balancing was not enough, there was the music to consider. She was still able to draw the notes out of her instrument, but it was a frantic battle, each note barely reached and then passed in a race to the next one. And the piece just kept going, kept getting more complex, and wouldn't end for a whole six pages.

Come on! thought an exhausted Octavia. She had been working on this piece for two weeks. It was the longest she had ever spent on one musical work. She knew she should be able to do it; she loved music more than any other activity, she was immensly talented, she worked incredibly hard. According to everything she knew, she should have mastered it by this point. But she hadn't, she just kept failing, and every time she failed she felt a little more like she wasn't all that good at music, or anything else, and she was just a useless third foal like so many others.

She reached the beginning of page three. This was where she usually fell apart, but she told herself that this time would be different. The 4-against-3 voices began, she moved her bow to match...

And she began to squeak.

Octavia tried to save the piece, but she didn't have the fine control needed to play all the notes without blurring them together or squeaking at the top. She sawed frantically, trying to recover, but the piece spiraled out of control, the voices tangling into an inarticulate mess, until Octavia was just making tortured noises. Then she moved her bow a little too far out, lost her balance, and fell over, dropping the cello on top of her.

BONK

The cello head hitting her behind her ears didn't hurt that much, but it was just enough--in conjunction with two weeks of failure--for the foal to lose control. Bursting into tears, she scampered out from under the cello and fled the room. She ran through the halls of the mansion, past startled servants as they cleaned the house, past her big sister Viola as she studied with a tutor in the library, past some visiting guest whom she almost knocked over. She didn't stop until she was in her room and was buried under a pile of stuffed instruments, pulling them over herself as if they might be able to hold back knowledge of her failure. She cried loudly and freely, soaking the plush sousaphone her uncle had gotten her for her last birthday. I'm a total failure...

Her mother, a blue-coated and black-maned earth pony with a regal bearing, entered a few minutes later. "Octavia, dear?" she asked. She was wearing a formal blue dress, a shining pearl necklace, and a pin with the Philharmonica crest on it--the kind of clothes and jewelry she wore, Octavia knew, when she was getting ready for something very formal. But her mother didn't seem to care about that as she looked through the room. "Are you alright?"

Octavia sniffled, but did not respond.

Her mother grinned. "Hmm... now where could my Octavia be?" She trotted into the room and began looking in all kinds of silly places--inside cabinets, under the bed, even inside pillowcases. "I know she's in here somewhere," she mused. "Let's see..."

A squeak emitted from the pile of stuffed instruments; Octavia was still sad, but she couldn't help giggling when her mother got all silly.

"Oh, I know!" Duchess Philharmonica trotted over to the pile--and then removed precisely one instrument, a smiling piano that was enchanted to play 'Smoke on the Water', and sighed. "Nope. Not here either."

Octavia laughed more loudly at that, and poked her head out of the instrument pile. "I'm here, Mommy!"

"There you are!" Duchess Philharmonica gathered Octavia into a gigantic hug, and her daughter squealed in delight. "Are you alright, dear?"

"No." Octavia nuzzled into the crook of her mother's neck. "I'm not good at anything. I'm a bad musician, and I can't even play one stupid song that's in the Early Advanced book, and if I can't play that song after two weeks I'm bad at music, and I'm not better at anything else so I'll never be good at anything and..."

She went on for a while, Duchess Philharmonica just hugging her and giving her an occasional nuzzle. When Octavia had finally run out of steam, the Duchess said, "Dear, you know that I think you're a wonderful musician, don't you?"

"But you're my Momma! You're supposed to think that! It's in the rules!"

The Duchess laughed, a rich, tinkly sound that Octavia loved. "Well, your father and your sisters think so too. So do all your teachers. Didn't Mr. Hardnote say you were the best student he ever had?"

"Yeah..." Octavia smiled a little at the memory; Hardnote had said it on the occasion of presenting her with a local award. "But I'm still having a lot of trouble. And my cello hit me."

The Duchess gave Octavia another nuzzle. "But didn't all the great musicians have trouble at some point or another? Didn't Beethoofven get stuck for a year on his most famous symphony? Didn't Rachmaneinov make a mistake at a big concert and have to start over?"

Octavia calmed a little bit. "Yes, but... but I don't like making mistakes! I want to be really good!"

"You are really good! And maybe tomorrow you'll master that piece, but even if it takes you a week--or a month--or you have to skip it, you will still be a fantastic musician. And I'll love you all the same." She gave her daughter one more nuzzle. "Feeling better?"

"A little." Octavia did feel a bit less upset. "Thanks, Mommy."

"You're welcome, dear." The Duchess paused. "You know, I don't have anything planned for the next hour or so. Would you like to bake?"

Octavia's face lit up like the sun. "Your super-special naan? That you make with extra love and care?" She grinned. "YAY!"

Her sadness forgotten, she raced to the kitchens, easily outpacing her trotting mother. The foal immediately began getting out the supplies. By the time her mother arrived, everything they needed was on a counter, except for a bag of flour, which was balanced on Octavia's back. "Let's bake, Mommy!"

The Duchess helped Octavia get up to the counter herself and wash all her hooves so she was ready to go. "Now, do you remember the recipe?"

Octavia grinned, and obviously did, but she shook her head. "Nope! But if you sing it, Mommy, I bet I'd remember it perfectly!"

"Of course, dear." The Duchess kissed her daughter, than--as they quickly began mixing flour, sugar, salt, and everything else into a doughy pile--began to sing:

"A little bit of this, and a little bit of that.
Mix it all together, pitter-pat, pitter-pat.
Spread out the dough then, nice and flat.
And then make a teardrop, just like that!
Then make a teardrop, just like that!"

The dough was quickly mixed, the Duchess eagerly mixing the ingredients into a stretchy, gooey, messy pile. Octavia got a few specks on her coat and mane, but unusually for her, she didn't seem to mind. She just looked at her mother with adoring eyes, than continued trying to mold the ingredients into the perfect dough. For her part, even when a dusting of flour somehow coated the Duchess's muzzle, she didn't object on the basis of cleanliness. She just giggled and kept going.

"Put them into bake, at eight eighty-eight
And wait... and wait...
And wait... and wait..."

Octavia tensed, knowing what was coming but eager to hear it.

"Now there's lots of naan bread, and it tastes great!
Now there's lots of naan bread, and it tastes great!"

They weren't actually at the baking part yet, but it didn't matter. Octavia busily engaged herself in stretching out the dough, standing on a sunny counter in a beautiful house with the greatest mother in the world, who was singing a lovely song to her. Nothing could ruin her mood.

"Here... comes the naan bread!"
That delicate crunch, a foal's favorite lunch!
Enjoy delicious naan bread!
I'm glad we made a bunch!"

She pretended to hold a piece of bread out to Octavia, who eagerly leapt at it as if trying to bite it. The Duchess kept moving her hoof away, and soon both were giggling.

"Here.. no! Here... no! Here... no! Here... yes!" Octavia had grabbed her hoof, and the Duchess swung her into a hug. "Perfect!"

The two embraced for a moment.

"Let's do it again!" The Duchess moved to put the stretched dough aside, so it could rise while they made another batch. "A little bit of this..."

***

"Aww!" Bonbon smiled. "That's such a sweet story!"

Bluenote laughed, and Vinyl gave her a hearty backslap. "Hard to imagine you ever missing a note, but I guess even the great Tavi wasn't always perfect. Did you ever get that song?"

"A few days later. I played it for the princess once. She said it was sublime." Octavia smiled. "I... anyway. I'm sorry, I did not mean to spend so much time on the story. In short--my Mother taught me this recipe, and we always baked it whenever I was upset. It means a lot to me. I haven't baked with anypony since then." She looked at the other three. "But you are my friends. It feels... right to teach this to you."

Vinyl saluted. "On that note--what comes first?"

"We proof the yeast."

Vinyl blinked at the powder. "Uh, it looks yeasty to me, but how do we prove it?"

Bonbon giggled. "She means, we put it in hot water to activate it."

"Exactly," said Octavia. The cellist proceded to show them how to properly proof the yeast--or rather, she showed Vinyl, since the wubstep DJ was the only one of them who didn't already know how. Then Octavia began sifting the other dry ingredients together, then stirring in the proofed yeast and the rest.

"What is this?" asked Bluenote, who had somehow gotten enough flour on her face to make her look ghostly. Octavia couldn't help but giggle when she saw the tubist; the tubist smiled and put on a goofy face--eliciting laughter from Bonbon and Vinyl as well--then gestured at a pile of seeds. "I've never seen these before."

"Fennel seeds. I ordered them from Canterlot. They add a licorice flavor to the bread."

Bluenote pointed at another pile. "And what's that?"

"Kalonji. It tastes a little like fresh onion. I ordered it from Chenneigh; it just arrived yesterday."

"Can't we just use onions and licorice?" Bluenote took a few of the seeds and tried them. "It sounds like it'd take a while to order all the special ingredients, but Red Onion grows onions here, and you can get licorice at any of the sweet stores. Wouldn't that be easier?"

"But that isn't the recipe." Octavia paused. "I mean, maybe you could, but... this was my Mother's recipe. I wouldn't feel right changing it, anymore than I'd feel right rewriting a Beethoofven sonata."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said Vinyl as Bluenote tried a few seeds. "What I want to know is, what's this?" She gestured at a bowl of a plain white liquid.

"... plain yogurt, Vinyl. I got it at the market yesterday."

The other three giggled, but Vinyl just shrugged. "What? I don't do yogurt much."

When the dough was mixed, Octavia informed them that they would normally need to wait three hours for it to rise. Vinyl looked mildly annoyed, and Bluenote gasped, but Octavia quickly informed them that she had taken steps to avert this. Specifically, she had woken up earlier than usual and prepared dough three hours prior, which had now risen. Thus, she said, they could get on to the next step.

"Thanks for getting up so early to make the dough," said Bluenote. "Getting up early is always hard for me."

Octavia blushed. "You are my friends. I wanted to help you--"

"And we love ya too, Tavi." Vinyl threw a hoof over her shoulders. "Right?"

Bluenote and Bonbon both nodded, and Octavia blushed.

The cellist showed the other ponies how to roll out the door and how to wiggle it into a teardrop shape. As they finished, she banked the fire until it was roaring. Then she took the naan pieces, dampened them in water, and began pressing them against the inside walls of the tandoor.

"Woah!" Bluenote's eyes were wide. "That looks dangerous!"

"As long as you don't touch the walls and you keep your hooves damp, it is perfectly safe," said Octavia.

"I've never seen food stick to the oven like that," said Bonbon. The naan remained stuck to the tandoor walls without any support, with a few large bubbles pushing out on each piece as it baked "At least, not intentionally."

"The high heat of the oven secures them," said Octavia. "And it helps them cook very quickly."

Bluenote's muzzle twitched as the scent of baking bread began to float past it. "It smells fantastic. How long does it take to bake? An hour? Forty-five minutes? Half an hour?"

Octavia picked up a big spatula and a hook, using the latter to scrape the first piece of naan off the oven wall and onto the former. "It's done," she said.

The other three stared at her.

"Like I said. It cooks very quickly." Octavia took all the naan out of the oven, then turned back to her friends. "Would you like to try some?"

Bluenote spoke for all of them. "Yes, yes, yes!"

***

Octavia had eaten many fine breakfasts in her time, but that one--homemade naan bread and raita yogurt, plus a few fresh berries from Bonbon's bushes, all eaten with two of her best friends and her ever-kind landlord--was one of the best.

"That was delicious!" said Bluenote. She patted her barrel contentedly. "Thanks, Octy. I've never had anything like that! Kalonjel and fenney seeds, right?"

"Kalonji and fennel," Octavia corrected. "And you are welcome."

"Thanks. I'm thinking of making this myself." Bluenote turned to Vinyl Scratch. "What about you? Going to bake some delicious naan?"

"Nah," said Vinyl. "Baking's not my thing. But this oven... let's just say that gears are turning." She poked her head with a hoof. "I've got a big idea. In a few days, Ponyville will never be the same."

"Is that in the same way that Ponyville wasn't the same after your wub canon malfunctioned and trapped Scootaloo up a tree by blasting at her whenever she tried to get down?"

Vinyl blushed. "Not the same in a good way, I mean."

"I don't usually bake bread," said Bonbon. "But--if you'll let me, Octavia, I'd love to try some candies in that oven. That kind of heat... oh, I could do some awesome things." She grinned. "Please?"

"Of course."

Bluenote smiled. "Thanks once again, Octy. This is awesome."

"It is my pleasure. Thank you for teaching me jazz music." Octavia smiled languidly. She did not usually eat large breakfasts, but the raita spread on the naan was so delicious that she had to have another thickly-spread slice. "And thank you all for coming. It means a lot to me."

It's good to have friends. Octavia felt perfectly content, like nothing could knock her out of her happy mood. It really, really is.

***

As the meal wound down, Bluenote found herself lost in thought.

Let's see. That bread is thin, buttery, and crunchy... it would go perfectly in flatbread sandwiches. Or some spreads, she could make a goat cheese spread and it would be divine... or maybe even make a pocket, and fill it with spinach, mozzerella, herbs, a little tomato...

"Oh, Bluenote."

The tubist looked at Octavia.

"Let me know if you need a tandoor supplier. If you want to bake naan in the traditional way, you will need an oven that can get hot enough."

"Thanks," said Bluenote, though she wasn't really worried. She'd spent a lot of time teaching Octavia to be less focused on exactly following scores; learning that she exactly followed recipes too wasn't a big surprise. But Bluenote liked to improvise--with food just as with music--and was confident she could put something together using local ingredients and techniques. And, just as Octavia had learned to loosen up with jazz and other improvisational music, Bluenote was certain she'd feel the same way when she tried some more improvised food.

Eventually, the meal ended, and Bluenote found herself heading out, still thinking of recipes. Some herbs, some yogurt, maybe cream... can't go wrong with a little garlic... in fact, since Silver Spoon rescheduled her lesson this week, I have enough time this afternoon to try things out right away! She grinned. In fact, a few foals will be coming by so Tootsie Flute can do her recital this evening. If things go well, I could share whatever I bake with all the foals!

Whistling merrily, Bluenote trotted off to the market, head full of ideas for most delicious food.

Author's Note

The naan recipe used here is from here. A video of the baking process is here. I highly recommend watching it; it's 2:30 long (that's two minutes, thirty seconds), and it shows the process very nicely.
A recipe for raita yogurt is here.
The candied herbs list is from here.

Bluenote's Day

If Bluenote had to pick her favorite part of her home, she would choose the music room without hesitation. It was perfect for its job: just big enough that she could fit four students in at once for ensemble lessons, but small enough that the foals felt comfortable instead of intimidated. The bright blue walls put teacher and students alike into a pleasant mood, and the cushions scattered liberally around were just the right size for a weary pony who had been wrestling with sousaphone or sax for an hour. Over the years, dozens of foals had joyfully scampered from one shelf to the next as they searched for the perfect instrument, jammed out melodies while their teacher smiled and praised and played right alongside them, and reclined on those cushions as they ate pudding and listened to a piece of music that Bluenote felt would be instructive. It was a place of happiness and laughter, and whenever Bluenote was feeling sad or upset, a brief stop in her music room cheered her up. It was a good room.

But even a music teacher didn't teach all the time. And so, when Bluenote wasn't teaching--or having fun with her adult friends, or swinging on her hammock in the backyard while sipping a tall glass of lemonade, or sleeping peacefully in her bed while dreaming of musical delights--she often played around in her second favorite room, the kitchen. Just as she improvised with music to produce jazz tunes she loved, she intuitively combined ingredients to produce her favorite snacks. Yes, it took a while, and there were false starts--she'd rather not think about the melted toast incident, or the flaming bowl of cereal--but that was part of the fun. The delicious food at the end tasted even better when compared with the silly disasters of the first few attempts. And the satisfaction of having improvised it from scratch just made the whole thing all the better.

And so it was that Bluenote, after a quick trip to the market, returned to her kitchen and began preparing for what she was certain would be a fun day of baking. "Alright!" she chirped as she set her big bag of groceries onto a counter. "Flour, check! Yeast, check! Olive oil, yogurt, onion, licorice..." She unpacked fifteen ingredients, some of them ones Octavia had used, some she hadn't. To those she added a few spices, herbs, and some other foodstuffs from her cabinets and larder. A big frying pan and some mixing bowls were dug out from a cabinet, utensils came from a sideboard, and in short, the kitchen was quickly prepped for a day of baking. Within minutes, almost everything was ready.

"I think I've got everything," mused Bluenote. "Now--oh! Can't believe I almost forgot it!" She hurried to a cabinet and plucked out a big poofy chef's hat that was twice as big as her head. Giggling, she set it on her head and admired her reflection in the window. "Alright, now I've got my baking hat and I'm ready to bake! One order of delicious naan bread, coming right up!"

She proofed the yeast and kneaded the first batch of dough quickly, her experienced hooves making short work of the task. She then mixed in some of the ingredients Octavia had used, including sugar, salt, and yogurt. She also added a few of her own devising, including herbs, a hint of cream, and garlic that was passed through the oven until it had been roasted into a golden brown. This, thought Bluenote, Will be like a garlic breadstick, but naan is so thin that it will be even crunchier and yummier than a normal breadstick! This will be delicious! She split the naan into pieces and put three in to cook--she didn't have a tandoor, but she figured that she could just cook it for a little longer using her oven's lower amount of heat--and then moved on to the next set while it cooked. Okay, that one's in. Let's see, how about a dessert one next?

Batch two was a sweet naan, with chocolate, cinnamon, and other ingredients that foals worldwide (and also Pinkie Pie) loved with all their hearts. Batch three was another dessert, but instead of decadent chocolate, Bluenote experimented with simply increasing the amount of sweet cream and yogurt. Soon it too was ready for baking. Bluenote opened the oven up, realized that it was time to check on batch one, and took out the pan...

And saw a mass of flaming charcoal. Furthremore, once she doused it in water and cracked it open, she saw that the inside was somehow still raw.

She blinked for a moment, then laughed. "Guess I should have kneaded the dough a little thinner." Shaking her head at her own silliness, she set the charcoal aside, then moved on to the next batch.

Don't worry, stomach. I'll get this naan yet!

***

"...Oh! I'm an expert baker, baking just for fun!
"The stallions say they like my cakes; I'd love to make them some!
"My cakes are so much in demand, I've never had to foist!
"The stallions eat so many that they have to leave in hoists!

She whistled a few bars as she approached the oven to take out the next batch. Her kitchen now had quite a few naan remnants, ranging from sludge to bricks to charcoal blocks to 'actually pretty good,' but she wasn't going to stop until she was completely satisfied. This particular variety used a very thin piece of naan with heavy water content to stop it from burning, as well as a few other ingredients for taste. She visualized what she wanted it to look like, a perfect piece of flaky, crispy, bubbling, golden-brown naan. Then she sang a few more lines from her song:

"One stallion says my bread could not be better than his mum's!
"He then examined all my dough; he even squeezed my buns!
"I had to--"

Bluenote's door banged open and scampering hooves heralded the arrival of Bluenote's first student of the day. "Blue! Blue!" cried out Titchy Scratch as she hurried into the kitchen, a tin recorder poking out of one saddlebag. "HI!"

"Hi, Titchy!" Bluenote grinned. "You're a couple minutes early. Want to help me with a taste test? Miss Philharmonica showed me a recipe and now I'm trying to make it myself, but I'll need a foal with some really good taste buds to make sure I get it right!"

"Yay! Yay!" Titchy nodded his head so quickly that it blurred.

Bluenote chuckled, carefully set her gigantic baker's hat onto Titchy's (after tightening it a bit so that it didn't swallow the foal up), and turned back to the oven. Technically, she was being paid to foalsitting Titchy, but the foal seemed to like making noise on the recorder so much that Bluenote couldn't help but try to encourage that love of music with a few pointers here and there. And pointers there would be; Bluenote hoped to introduce the idea of scales today. Still, that could come after the food. She opened up the oven and took out the pan with the water-heavy naan...

Only to find that, while the water had stopped the naan from burning, it hadn't stopped it from melting in the high heat. The dough looked like porridge. Specifically, the kind of porridge that bubbled, and hissed and made foals all over Equestria insist that dessert for dinner was a perfectly viable choice.

"Yuck, yuck!" Titchy stuck out his tongue.

Bluenote poked it with a hoof, tasted it, then frowned. "Yes," she said, in a voice of sage wisdom. "I agree with your verdict of 'yuck.'"

Titchy giggled. Then a big bubble rose out of the naan liquid and burst, splattering Bluenote's face with naan goop and causing the foal to laugh even harder. When Bluenote took the chef's hat back, looking like the most hapless and bemused baker in the world, the foal was in hysterics. Lessons are fun! he thought.

Bluenote caught a glimpse of herself in the window and chuckled as well. "Oh no!" she said, raising up to her hind legs and extending her front hooves as if she were Frankenstein. "It's the gloop monster! It's going to gloopify you!"

"Run, run!" Titchy giggled and took off at a run. Soon the two were scampering through the house, until Titchy was worn out enough that he was willing to sit down and go through a (very loud) scale or two with Bluenote.

And so they played, and they had a blast. And when they were done, Bluenote returned to her kitchen. Okay, so using lots of liquid doesn't work. Maybe if I...

***

Silver Spoon blinked at the spread in front of her. "What is it?"

"A little onion, a little licorice, a little roasted garlic..." Bluenote delicately spread some of the mixture onto a thick slice of rye bread. "Also a few herbs, some olive oil, and a touch of yogurt. Hungry?" She beamed and offered her the slice.

The foal licked her lips, but then shook her head and looked in the direction of the music room. "No. We should start practicing. I mastered all the exercises that you assigned me last week. I'm ready for the next level."

Bluenote chuckled. "You mastered everything I assigned you? You must have worked very hard!"

She made sure to give Silver Spoon an encouraging smile, but the foal just inclined her head. "Of course I did," she said. "I always do."

Bluenote walked the foal over to her music room, carefully determining how to elicit a grin or a giggle from the serious, reserved student. "How did your band practice go yesterday?"

The foal frowned. "A slow start," she said. "We started by arguing over the name again; Tootsie Flute wants us to be called the Pretty Flowers, and Bebop wants us to be called the Rock-Awesome Foals, and I wanted something more elegant and refined. And even once we got going we got distracted."

"What did you practice?"

"Tootsie Flute learned a melody from Lyra, and so we were trying to play it on our instruments. But then Bebop started trying to dance to it, and she's not a very good dancer so I had to show her how to dance, and by the time Betty Buttle came in with our food for the snack break we were all spinning and dancing instead of playing, and--"

Bluenote saw a smile flicker onto the foal's face for a moment before vanishing, as if Silver Spoon was ashamed that she had been distracted from her craft by foalish games. Aha! "That sounds like a lot of fun!" she said. "It reminds me of my first sock hop!"

"What's a sock?"

Bluenote waved a hoof. "Never mind. Why don't you play that melody for me? Maybe I can teach you how to play it so you can make your friends as happy as Tootsie Flute made you!"

Silver Spoon hesitated, obviously torn, before she climbed up onto the piano bench and slipped on the tapered gloves that she used to press the narrow piano keys with her hooves. "Well..." she said at last, "I thought we could do the next set of exercises today so I could get even better, and--"

"Are you sure?" Bluenote grinned. "Because we could do exercises anytime, but right now, I can help you learn a piece of music that I think you and your friends will find really fun! And then you can all play it together, and you can play it for the other ponies when your band debuts, and all your friends will be dancing and bopping around, and..."

She didn't need to continue; a smile had broken out onto Silver Spoon's face, almost as if the foal herself was unaware of it. The teacher beamed to herself, but outwardly, she just waited until the foal seemed to come back to herself. "Maybe just this once," she said, an undercurrent of eagerness plainly audible in her serious, businesslike tone. "I suppose that would be good training."

"Of course it would!" Bluenote sat by Silver Spoon. "Now..."

But the foal was looking hungrily at the slice of bread covered with spread, as if her concession to do one enjoyable thing made her more tolerant of others. "Actually," she said, "May I have a little of that spread?"

"Sure! Help yourself!"

Silver Spoon took a dainty bite of the bread. "Mmm!" she enthused, her attitude forgotten in the face of sheer deliciousness. "What is it?"

"Well, Miss Philharmonica showed me a recipe for a kind of bread called naan. I'm having a little trouble getting the baking part right, but in the meantime, I figured I could still work out the flavors. That's the mixture I'll add to the dough in my next trial. What do you think--"

She saw that the bread had somehow obtained a large bite out of its side while she had been talking. Silver Spoon, a bit of spread smeared around her muzzle, blushed slightly. "It's, ah, very good. Not quite like my father's chef can do, but still, quite respectable." She nodded. "I approve."

"I'm glad you like it!" said Bluenote, making a note that this set of ingredients was a keeper. "Now, how did that melody go?"

"Well, it started like this..."

***

Bluenote's last appointment of the day was a filly who didn't yet like music all that much.

"Alright!" said Bluenote, hurrying out of her kitchen with her chef's hat on her head and a tray balanced on her back. "We're all ready!"

"Ready for what?" Noi wrinkled her nose. She was Carrot Top's younger sister, and was at Bluenote's only because her mother had told her that she needed a hobby. She had wanted, Bluenote knew, to help her sister with her hydroponic farming, but she didn't quite have the science background to handle that yet. So she was at Bluenote's house instead, clearly looking for whatever would take the least effort to get her mother out of her mane.

"Ready to hear some music!" Bluenote put the tray down next to Noi and walked over to a fancy record player. Except for the piano and her cottage itself, it was the most expensive thing she owned. "What kind of music do you like?"

"Whatever."

"Hmm. I don't think I have that genre." Noi giggled, and Bluenote put on some light and bouncy classical music that she knew foals often liked. "Do you like it?"

"It's fine," said Noi, with no real conviction. She tasted some of the bread on the tray that Bluenote had set down. "What's this?"

"Naan bread. Miss Philharmonica gave me the recipe. How is it?"

Noi frowned. "Like... burned onions?"

This was true, Bluenote discovered, once she took a bite. It wasn't charcoaled, or melted, or raw, but the onions were off. They had to be roasted before going into the dish so that the taste wasn't just raw onion, but apparently the onions couldn't be roasted all the way or they would burn once baked with the naan bread. The dough itself hadn't burned, but the onion chunks scattered within it added an unwholesome, charred taste anyway. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't great either.

Fortunately, Bluenote had a solution for that. "Well, try some of the chocolate spread!" she said, pushing a little container nearer to the foal. "Chocolate makes everything taste good!"

Noi nodded at this incontrovertible fact and began to apply the spread. Meanwhile, Bluenote played a jazz record for a few moments, then an epic ballad of the sort Lyra liked and a wubstep record Vinyl had just produced. Noi, though, listened with no sign of joy except for when she was taking bites from the chocolate block of naan. Still, Bluenote was undaunted. Music was so wonderful that every foal was certain to like at least one song.

"Hmm," she said after another few records failed to impress. "Let's try something else. What's the most fun thing you did in the last two weeks?"

Noi brightened immediately. "My sister let me help her on her farm!" she said. "I got to help plant carrots, and even mix up the new tree ants for her hydropony thingies!"

"Nutrients for her hydroponics? That sounds like a lot of fun," said Bluenote.

"Oh, it is! And when we were done we sprayed each other with the hydropony hoses!" Noi paused. "But that was only cause her helper was out sick. Usually they all say I'm too little to do hydropony stuff."

"Well, you're growing fast," said Bluenote, rumaging through her shelves. Aha! She took out a recording of a hoedown that had taken place in Hoofington a few months prior. "I'm sure you'll be able to help soon."

"But I wanna help now!" said Noi, whose muzzle was now smeared with chocolate. "She's doing all kinds of cool stuff, and I wanna do it with her! Cause she's the best big sister ever!"

"Maybe you can," agreed Bluenote. "Here, listen to this."

She played the hoedown, a jaunty fiddle tune that was as warm and bright as a fine summer's morning, and as fast-paced and flowing as the nutrient slurries that Carrot Top fed her crops. It was the music that farmers danced to when the sun was low and they were celebrating the accomplishment of another day; the music of bountiful harvests and great feasts. It was music that bespoke confidence, joy, and satisfaction.

"Hey, I like this!" Noi sprang up from her cushion and hurried to the record player, as if trying to shove her head into the music. "This is really really good! It's amazing!"

"Maybe you could help your sister by learning to play music like this," said Bluenote. "I'll bet you could get good enough on the fiddle so that, when she came home after a long day of hydroponicing, you could make her really happy with a song like that!"

"Yay!" Noi hopped from hoof to hoof, ennui forgotten. "Can you teach me fiddle, Bluenote? Please please please?"

"It's not my specialty, but I can certainly get you started." Bluenote grinned. "You should go see Medley about getting a fiddle. I'll get you set up with some basic scales."

The 'lesson' concluded soon after, with Noi borrowing some of Bluenote's hoedown records for 'inspiration.' "You should also come to Tootsie Flute's recital," said Bluenote. "Some of her music sounds a little like this. I think you'll like it!"

"I'll be there!" said Noi. "When is it?"

"Just a little bit, actually." Bluenote looked out her window, which gave her a nice view of the setting sun. "Maybe twenty minutes, in Ponyville Park."

"I--" Noi's stomach rumbled. "Can I get a snack first?"

"Actually, there'll be snacks at the concert. So save your appetite! You'll get to taste some delicious food soon enough!"

When she was gone, Bluenote checked the clock. She had just enough time to make one more try of the naan, and she thought she knew what to do this time. She had the ingredient mix right, so if she just thinned the bread a little more, she would make a delicious, crispy, chewy, flaky naan. And the foals would love it, just as they would love the music, and they would be happy. And that was what mattered.

Whistling merrily, Bluenote reentered her kitchen and began her last try at the bread.

***

"Bluenote!"

The tubist grinned as the foals surrounded her. She had been running late, but had managed to pack up the last batch of naan and rush to the park just in time. "Hello!" she said. "Are you ready for a wonderful concert?"

"YAY!" the foals cheered.

Tootsie Flute hopped onto the stage and took out her flute. Her smile was bright even in the evening light. "Thank you!" she squeaked. "I'm going to share my first epic ballad! It's called 'The Ballad of Tootsie Flute and her Awesome Adventures!'"

Lyra, one of the few adults present, cheered louder than anypony else. "You'll do awesome, Tootsie Flute!"

"But first," chirped Bluenote. "While she gets warmed up, I brought a few snacks!" She set the trays down onto a table and began to unpack them. "Would anypony like to try some?"

"Me!" cheered all the foals, Lyra, and Pinkie Pie.

"What is it?" asked Scootaloo.

"This is based on a recipe I got from Octavia Philharmonica," said Bluenote. "Now, I haven't had time to taste this last batch yet, so you should let me try it first--"

Her protests were cut off when the foals stampeded past her and grabbed slices.

"Or you can be as surprised as I am," Bluenote said. She took a slice for herself, tried it...

And was almost knocked over by a blast of raw onion and garlic.

She had cut the roasting time for the onion, garlic, and other herbs too far. Now they hadn't cooked at all, and instead of the caramelized taste of roasted vegetables, it was just sharp blasts of onion onto her tongue. Even Bluenote, the village's gourmand, coughed as her body disagreed with the naan.

There were other problems too. The dough had become dry and brittle the onion hadn't cooked down with roasting, so there was more onion and less dough, so the bread had cooked faster and dried out. The delicate flavors of the other ingredients were lost in the raw onion and crackling dough. And there was even a faint hint of curdled cream mixing in with everything else. All in all,the dish didn't work.

And the foals agreed. "Yuck!" they cried. "This is awful! It's horrible! Blech!"

Bluenote sighed bemusedly and put one of the naan pieces on her head. Ah well. Better luck next time! "Well, at least it makes a good hat!" she said.

The foals looked at her, laughed, and then began having a food fight with the rest of the bread.

Next week, at the hoedown. Then I'll get it for sure. But for now... Bluenote thought, her gaze drifting back to the stage. Now, Tootsie--

"Bluenote!" The tubist turned to see Octavia trotting over. "I hope I am not too late. I heard that Tootsie Flute was giving a concert tonight?"

"Yes!" cheered Lyra. "At long last, her training and toil pay off! Now, she will delight us all with her ballad of wonder and glory!"

"I look forward to hearing it," said Octavia.

"Just don't try the food," said Sweetie Belle, in the innocently insensitive manner of foals. "It's awful."

"Oh?" Octavia trotted over to the table. "What is it?"

Bluenote had a sudden feeling of impending doom.

"Naan!" said Apple Bloom. "But Sweetie's right. It's terrible."

"Isn't it your recipe?" asked Diamond Tiara, her voice sickly sweet. "I'm so sorry if this is the kind of thing you had to eat growing up, Miss Philharmonica."

Octavia was silent for a moment. "Excuse me?"

"Well--" began Bluenote.

"Bluenote said it was your recipe," said Silver Spoon. "If you like it, of course, there's nothing wrong with that. But I don't like raw onions or burned bread myself--"

"It was my mother's," said Octavia, in a low voice. She looked at Bluenote with something dangerous flashing in her eyes.

"Er..." said Bluenote.

Octavia turned away and trotted to the table, then took a slice of naan and tried it. Her eyes widened, and she was still for a moment. Then she turned to the tubist, and Bluenote stepped back, because she could see pain and anger in the cellist's eyes.

"This is not my mother's recipe," she hissed.

"I just tried--"

"This was was meaningful to me!" the cellist said. "But you ruined it for some... inane joke?!"

"It wasn't supposed to be a joke!" said Bluenote. "It was supposed--"

Octavia slowly glanced up at Bluenote's head, where she was still wearing a piece of the terrible naan bread as a hat.

"I mean..." Bluenote trailed off. "But... it's just a recipe. Right?"

Octavia's eyes flashed. "I told you this in confidence. Because I thought it might make you happy, because I know how much you like new foods. How could you turn it into this garbage for the sake of a cheap laugh?!"

"But--"

"I trusted you! And you have made me look like an idiot at your first opportunity!"

"But--"

"It's not Bluenote's fault!" objected Diamond Tiara, who was eavesdropping. "She's a great cook! It's not her fault your mom's recipe sucks--"

"Diamond Tiara!" snapped Bluenote, but it was too late.

Octavia's eyes glimmered with tears, and then she turned on her hoof and began to walk off. And when Bluenote called after her, she broke into a gallop and fled.

Bluenote stared after her. But... but it's just a recipe, I don't... what did I do wrong?

"Um, Miss Bluenote?" The tubist turned to see Tootsie Flute waving at her. "I'm ready to start now."

Bluenote desperately wanted to pursue Octavia to apologize and make things right. But she had a duty towards the foals. And so she fixed a smile on her face, took a breath, and said, "Of course! Ah, forget the snacks. Now we'll hear some music by Tootsie Flute..."

But even though Tootsie played her heart out, and even though all the foals clearly loved her music, Bluenote couldn't make herself feel happy.

Author's Note

I had to edit that song a bit to make it more age appropriate. The original is a bit randier. (That song link is the reason this story has a teen rating.)

I thought it'd be fun to explore how Bluenote does her teaching. She's pretty good at it, I'd say.

I do want to explore the hydroponics more at some point (Talon and Thorn introduced the idea of CT using hydroponics in 'Generosity Games', and I really like the concept, hence it showing up again here). Maybe one of the Musical 6 will wind up on the farms for a while, and will learn about AJ's traditional methods and CT's hydroponic-based ones.

Burning Out and Burning Bright

"Hello! Welcome to..." Bonbon's voice trailed off. "Um, Octavia?"

Octavia turned her head slightly so she could see the candymare. She had just wanted to hurry upstairs as soon as she had entered the house, but even in her state she wouldn't ignore somepony who was talking to her. "Yes?" she managed.

"Are you alright? You're back early, and, uh, your mane and tail are all askew. And... are you crying?"

Octavia brought a hoof up to her eyes and quickly wiped. "I am fine," she said. "I do not mean to bother you."

"It's alright; I'm not bothered. I--"

Octavia moved past her. "If you do not mind, I wish to be alone."

She did not know why she was being so short with Bonbon, or why Bluenote's actions had hurt her so badly. She, who was still learning elementary lessons about friendship, could not rationally understand why she felt so angry and betrayed by her friend's actions. She only knew that she wanted to get into the shower, and then go to bed for about a million years.

"If you're sure," began Bonbon. "But if you want to talk to somepony--"

"I will keep you in mind," said Octavia who then galloped up the stairs.

***

"Thank you! Thank you!" cried Tootsie Flute to the audience as she hopped up and down, vibrating from sheer joy. "I'm really glad you liked it!"

Bluenote almost smiled. Tootsie Flute's performance had been spirited, if squeaky, and it seemed like the music Lyra had taught her went over well with foals. They had particularly enjoyed Tootsie's third piece, a five minute ballad for flute and voice about a brave little pegasus foal and her epic battle against homework. By the time Tootsie (on flute) and Lyra (narrating) had described how the pegasus had journeyed to Mount Doom-And-Gloom, thrown the One School Bell That Rings into its depths, and thus liberated foals everywhere from the horrors of schoolwork, the entire crowd was applauding (except for Cheerilee, for some reason.) In almost any regard, it was a wonderful evening.

But even though the foals were happy, and even though Bluenote's assistance in getting the concert set up had been instrumental to its success, the tubist didn't feel any joy. For the first time, the knowledge that she had directly brought happiness and glee to the littlest residants of Ponyville failed to move her. Furthermore, she couldn't leave to find Octavia without alerting the foals that something was seriously wrong and thus ruining their evening, and she couldn't focus on the concert while she remained because she kept seeing the pain in Octavia's face as she fled into the night. All she could do was sit in the audience, pretend to be involved in the recital, and try to figure out how she had hurt Octavia so badly with a single poorly-baked dish.

It was thus a relief when the concert finally ended and Bluenote was able to remove herself from the scene. She whispered a quick apology to Lyra, ducked behind the stage as Tootsie Flute began to climb down (and promptly fell onto Bebop), and hurried off into the streets of Ponyville. Octavia went to bed early, she knew, but the sun had only gone down a few minutes prior. Surely the cellist was still awake, and surely the issue could be settled before bed. All she had to do was figure out something that could make Octavia happy again. Then everything would be alright.

I need to fix this, she thought. She hated the naan, but if I make her something really good, something for a present, she'll listen and she'll understand. Even if the markets are closed, I'm good at improvisation. I'll work something out.

She reached her home in a few minutes and tore through the rooms, hunting for any useful ingredients. She found some apples, lemons, and oranges in a fruit bowl, and some sugar and nutmeg in her pantry; fifteen minutes later, she had simmered everything together in her oven until she had made a spectacular compote. It was refreshing, it was light, it was healthy, and most importantly, it was delicious. Bluenote even managed a slight smile as she packed up the dish. She'll like this for sure!

But after ten more minutes had passed--after she had run to Bonbon's house, brushed past the startled proprietor, run into a towel-wrapped Octavia in the upstairs hallway, and offered her the dish--she did not get the desired result. Octavia refused to eat it. "I am going to bed, Bluenote," she said. "I do not wish to speak with you." And she shut her door and would say nothing else.

Bluenote got the same reaction when she came back shortly thereafter with a fresh fruit smoothie, and again with maple-and-honey glazed carrots. When she returned a fourth time, Octavia didn't even look at her newest dessert. "Leave me alone!" she snapped.

"But--"

When she caught Octavia's gaze, though, she didn't see anger anymore--only pain. "Please," muttered Octavia. "You have done enough for one night."

"But..." Bluenote reached out a hoof and grabbed Octavia before she could disappear into her room. "Octavia, I'm sorry. I didn't know one bad dish would hurt you so badly. But I want to make you happy now! I like making ponies happy. And you're one of my best friends. If you just tell me what you want, whatever it is--"

"I don't want anything right now." Octavia looked down. "I'm sorry. If I knew, I would tell you, but I have never felt like this before. And I don't know how to fix it."

The two were silent for a moment.

"If Diamond Tiara--" began Bluenote.

"It is not just her. It... look." Octavia paused. "Suppose the foals of this village had never heard of jazz music. Suppose they were completely ignorant as to what it sounded like or was. Then suppose I purported to demonstrate to them the wonder and glory of jazz music... but my performance was a farce, complete and utter trash from start to finish. Suppose I used your art and passion to elicit a cheap grin from my students. How would you feel?"

Bluenote thought for a moment. "I wouldn't mind," she said at last. "Octavia, I love music because it makes ponies happy. If you could make ponies happy by making jazz sound silly, I would support you. I would probably join in."

"...that is your point of view. It is not mine." For another moment, nopony spoke. Then: "Bluenote, I have learned to appreciate when ponies enjoy what I have to offer them... whether that be my music or a recipe of my mother's. But those things have intrinsic value to me, above and beyond what others obtain from them. I wanted to share that value with you, because we are friends... but you showed no respect for it. For me. I shared something precious with me, and you threw it into the dirt for the sake of your students. How can I trust you now?" She looked down. "Maybe I am a bad friend. Intellectually, I know that this should not hurt as much as it does, and that it should be easy to accept your apology. But when I think of how I feel... I cannot find it within me to forgive you right now, and I cannot think of anything you could do at this moment to change that." She was silent for a long moment. "I am sorry."

"But..." began Bluenote, before trailing off. "Can we... at least talk about it in the morning? Maybe we'll feel better then."

"If you wish." Octavia nodded slightly, then returned to her room. Bluenote slowly left, steps dragging.

***

"Can we talk?"

Octavia looked up from where she lay on her bed to see Bonbon standing by her door. "There is nothing to talk about."

"You're an upset friend. That's something right there." Bonbon smiled gently and approached Octavia's bed. "I know you don't want to talk to Bluenote right now, but you can talk to me. We're friends, right?"

"Yes, but..." Octavia shook her head. "I do not understand it. I was being honest when I told Bluenote that I know I am taking this too seriously. In a week, none of those foals will even remember Bluenote's joke. She meant nothing by it. But it hurts nonetheless." She sat up from the bed. "It hurts and I cannot understand why! Others have insulted me with thoughtlessness before, many times, and I have never felt like this."

"They weren't your friends," said Bonbon.

Octavia blinked. "What?"

"You weren't ever let down by friends, were you?" Bonbon sat next to Octavia on the bed. "Because you didn't really make friends before you came to Ponyville. You never opened up to anypony, so they could never hurt you. But now that you've become friends with Bluenote, and exposed some of your vulnerabilites to her, it hurts a lot worse when something goes wrong."

Though she had been trying to be a better friend for some time, Octavia hadn't thought about what would happen during falling-outs. "Is this inevitable for friendships?" she asked. "Does it always hurt like this?"

"Nopony's perfect. Friends fight sometimes," said Bonbon. "Never heard of any pair of friends that always got along."

Octavia rolled over. "Then maybe is friendship is not as wonderful as everypony said it would be. Why would I want to bother if feeling like this is a certainty--"

"Hey! I know you don't believe that." Bonbon put a hoof on Octavia's shoulder. "Think about all the great times you're having with Bluenote, and Vinyl, and Lyra and Fluttershy and Medley and every other pony in the town that you've befriended. You'd really throw all that away because of one bad night? Trust me, that's a really bad idea."

"No, but... I don't know. I do not know what to think." Octavia was silent for a moment as a new thought worked into her head. She looked back at Bonbon and said, "That said, you seem to know a lot about this..."

Bonbon looked distant for a few seconds, but then the moment passed. "Long story," she said in a slightly strained jovial tone. "I'll tell you some other time. But for now, just trust me--I know it doesn't feel like it, but you two will be over this soon. Honest."

"I hope so." Octavia felt a wave of weariness wash over her. "How long does it take?"

"Depends. But one thing's in your favor."

"What?"

"Bluenote's a real friend. She'll find a way to make it up to you in record time." Bonbon smiled. "Believe it."

When she left a while later, Octavia rolled onto her side. She found herself missing her stuffed instruments and wishing she had a pile of them to crawl into. She wanted something to cuddle, but had nothing besides a few bow ties and her cello itself. Bluenote is a good friend. I know this, she told herself. I just... it hurts, but I have to trust her. She is a friend. She deserves that.

Fixing that thought firmly in her mind, she let herself drift into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

Bluenote had intended to go home, but on her way she bumped into what looked like a walking pile of spare parts and random knickknacks. In the darkness of the Ponyville night, it was impossible to see who or what was carrying it. "Um, hello?"

"Hey, Bluey!" Vinyl's voice bounded out from within the pile. "Help me carry some of this? It'd be an awesome help."

"Bluey! Bluey!" called out Titchy Scratch from somewhere slightly to the left of Vinyl.

Bluenote took a large part of the load, which somehow included Titchy. As the foal settled into his new perch on top of the parts Bluenote was carrying, the tubist asked, "What's this for? A new song?"

"My latest and greatest special effect!" Vinyl laughed. "When this baby gets onstage, nopony in Equestria'll be able to stop me from sweeping the charts! I gotta bake Tavi a cake or something to thank her. That oven of hers gave me an awesome idea, and now I just gotta finish it up."

The mention of baking wiped the smile from Bluenote's face. "Good idea," she murmured. "Yay."

"Something wrong?" asked Vinyl.

Bluenote sighed, then told her friend the whole story, from messing up the naan to being asked to leave Bonbon's house. "...I really want to make it better," she said. "I hate the thought that somepony might be upset from something I did. But I had no idea she'd get so upset, and I don't know what to do about it."

Vinyl shrugged, moving the parts up and down. "Want my advice?"

"Sure."

"She said she's mad that you didn't respect her or her family recipe, right? Show her that you do. Make it right this time, and she'll get it."

"But I tried to figure it out all day," said Bluenote. "And all I got was burned goop."

Vinyl giggled. "I don't mean improvise it. Make it to her recipe. You were paying attention, right?"

"But..." Bluenote paused. "That's not fair, though. I mean, I don't like baking that way. Why should I have to do something I don't like when she's probably overreacting?"

"It's not about liking it. It's about..." Vinyl paused. "Look at it like this. When Octavia plays your music, jazz, she's trying to play it your way, right? Free and open, not bound to a score?"

"I guess."

"So, when you try to make her food, maybe you should try making it her way." Vinyl playfully nudged Bluenote, almost dislodging their piles of junk, though they somehow stayed balanced, with Titchy giggling as he bounced from one to the other like it was the world's greatest jungle gym. "I think that's one of the things frustrating her, even if she doesn't understand it 'cause she's knew to the whole 'friends' thing. She's been trying to learn from you, but you made it look like you don't care what she has to teach you. If you can show her that you can do things her way, she won't be upset about putting so much effort into playing things yours, right?"

"I guess..." Bluenote didn't like following recipes--it was boring, as boring as taxes, or census forms, or anything else involving mindlessly following steps some other pony worked out for you. If it was for her friend Octavia, though, she could handle it. "But I don't have her special ingredients, the kalonji and fennel seeds. She had to get them shipped here."

"I'll bet she didn't use all of them. Hey, Titchy!" The foal bounded down and looked at his sister with cheerful, bright eyes. "Run on down to Bonbon's and see if you can borrow the naan ingredients, okay? She'll know what they are and why you want them; she's a pretty sharp mare. Then come back here and we'll take 'em to Bluey's together." She floated a few bits to Titchy and dropped them into her saddlebag. "That sound fun?"

"Hmm..." Titchy put a hoof to his chin in a gesture of exaggerated thought.

Vinyl grinned. "Alright, fine. You can buy some candy while you're at--"

"Yay! Yay!" Titchy took off like a shot, leaving a small trail of dust behind him.

Bluenote couldn't help but laugh at the foal's antics, but another thought brought her up short. "I also don't have an oven like hers, though. And mine... I mean, it didn't work for naan when I tried it before. It's not as hot as that tandoor, so the bread was either undercooked, or--when I left it in longer to make up for the temperature difference--burned on the outisde."

They had reached Vinyl's house and stopped at the front door. The DJ opened the door with magic, put down her things, and then gave Bluenote a massive grin. "Oh, DJ-PON3 can help with that. In fact, forget going home. I've got flour and stuff, so you can get started right away. When you're done... I'll show you and Tavi both what a real oven is like. Tandoor-shmandoor, you've never seen anything like what I've got."

And so Bluenote found herself in Vinyl's small kitchen, which wasn't exactly well-equipped--it had more empty hay pizza boxes and oat sodas than it did actual ingredients--but did contain flour and a few other staples. She began to mix the dough, using the ingredients on hoof and the ones Titchy brought back. Let's see... I need to proof the yeast for exactly this long, and kneed it like this... And when done, she moved to the next step. Mix just the right amount of flour with...

It was slow, and boring, and Bluenote found her mind wandering in very short order. But it was for a friend, so she made herself stick with it. And--as she began to roll out the required teardrop shapes--she felt a bit of sympathy for how Octavia must feel when she was playing freeform jazz. Don't worry, Octavia, she thought. I get it now. And I'll prove it to you. She smiled. Besides, this isn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be.

When she was done, she returned to Vinyl's main room. She hadn't noticed it before, but things that looked like parts of pony skeletons were scattered around the floor, making it difficult to navigate. "Uh, what are those?"

"Oh, those are the beginnings of my golem experiments. I've decided that, if I ever win a Grammane, I'm riding into that theatre on a golem with flamethrowers and lasers, and I want to be ready" said Vinyl, speaking in a matter-of fact-tone. She was working on what looked like a large speaker with a massive pipe extending outwards from its front. Her mane glowed as a few wires within the speakers twisted and reconnected themselves, and her hooves were busy trying to insert another component--Vinyl recognized it as one of the ones the DJ had been carrying when they had run into each other--into the base of the device. Titchy was 'helping' by holding tightly onto the pipe with his mouth, which bent it down a bit so that it was better aligned. "What do you think?"

Bluenote carefully lifted up one of the golem sections, a metal frame containing the front half of a barrel, two legs, a neck, and most of a head. "Well, you're all set for Nightmare Night."

Vinyl laughed, and Bluenote found herself chuckling too.

"Can you really make a golem?" asked Bluenote once she had worked her way over to where Vinyl was sitting. "I mean, I thought the princesses made the only ones known."

"Yeah, but I'm as awesome as any princess. 'Sides, I played with one of these guys before." She laughed as she secured the bent pipe with a thin metal wire, then lifted up one of the golem heads with her telekinesis and rotated it around. "Took one apart in that old castle. Bet I can build one just as easy."

"Boom! Boom!" cried out Titchy, dropping from the pipe.

"Boom's right," said Vinyl, patting her brother on the head. "Your sister made the mean old golem go boom!"

"BOOM!" Titchy waved his hooves around, then fell on his rump and burst into giggles.

Bluenote laughed at the scene, then showed Vinyl her dough. "Anyways, I think this is right. I made it just like Octavia showed us."

"Looks okay," said Vinyl. "Ready for baking, then?"

"Sure, but your kitchen oven isn't--"

"Forget ovens. Ovens are so yesterday." A slow grin spread over Vinyl's face. "See, when I saw the naan cook so quickly in the tandoor, I realized--you don't always need fireworks and chemicals and things like that to make a nice little blaze. Sometimes all you need is heat. You get something hot enough, it goes up, just like that."

Bluenote nodded, lost.

"So fire is heat. But heat is just energy, right? And you know what else is made of energy? Sound! So fire is heat is energy is sound. And you know what that means?"

Bluenote kept nodding, then paused. "No."

Vinyl chuckled. "Long story short, I realized I could use sound to make pyrotechnics. Other DJs have to add them in later and set off fireworks by hoof. Me? I'll play them off. With this!" She gestured to the speaker with the pipe on the end. "I call it a thermoacoustic heater and refrigerator! Or--for short--a WUBSTEP FLAMETHROWER!"

She turned to the speaker and hit a button. It began to thump, its sound quickly growing louder and louder. "I just prepped it with some dry leaves!" called Vinyl over the noise. "Now stand back! This'll be great!"

"What?" yell Bluenote, backing away from the pipe. She noticed the machine quivering, like it was going to explode. "Stand where?"

"Just stand back! I'm going to try--"

"Science?" guessed Bluenote. She had to holler to be heard over the speaker.

"Better! I'm going to try WUBS!"

At that moment, the pipe blasted a jet of fire that scorched two of the golem components, incinerated a wooden chair, and singed Vinyl's mane. Bluenote's mouth dropped as the flame drew in and out with the pounding of the wubs, as if fire itself was dancing to Vinyl's beat. The blaze only vanished when Vinyl turned the speaker off. "...wow."

Titchy was, however, not quite as lost for words. "YAY! AWESOMEST BIG SIS EVER!" He hugged Vinyl as fiercely as he could.

"Sure am!" said Vinyl, tousling Titchy's mane. "Sure am."

Bluenote grinned. "Can I try it with the naan?"

"You bet! One piece of naan bread, properly mixed and baked in a wubstep flamethrower-cum-tandoor, coming up!"

The bread was inserted into the pipe. Vinyl played the speaker again, a bit more softly, for about a minute. Then she removed the steaming naan, they each took a bite...

And grinned.

"Perfect," said Bluenote, with obvious relief. "Vinyl, this is absolutely perfect."

Vinyl blushed. "Hey. What are friends for?"

Author's Note

Haven't really decided what Bonbon's backstory there is, but thought it might be a useful plot hook for later--maybe Lyra and Tavi or Lyra and Bluenote try to repair whatever Bonbon is referring to when she talks about fighting with friends.

As soon as I learned that thermoacoustic engines existed, I knew Vinyl would make one and use it like a flamethrower. She's very predictable like that.

I cut a Carrot Top cameo; originally she showed up in her lab coat after the "I'm going to try wubs" thing and was all, "I heard somepony was going to try science?" and asked to watch. It was funny, but it killed the pacing.

Lot of recipes in this story. Now I'm hungry. :-)

Friends Again

When Octavia woke, she felt much more at peace.

Part of it was the brand new day, with the shining sun and singing birds. Part of it was having gotten several hours of sleep during which she could decompress from the events of the previous night. And part of it--perhaps the largest part--was the comment that Bonbon had made, which had bounced around in Octavia's head as she drifted off to sleep and floated through her dreams. Aren't they worth it? she had said in effect. And--with the benefit of a little distance--she knew that they were.

It still hurt, she thought. But not as much, and she knew that, the next time she fought with a friend--and there inevitably would be arguments; Bonbon had made that clear--it would hurt less than before. She would keep working and would become a better and better friend, until she was able to shrug off such pains as the occasional costs one paid in exchange for having such close companions. It was worth being vulnerable like this, if it meant she could bond as closely with Bluenote and the others as she had.

I should talk to her, thought Octavia. I'll talk and... explain why it hurt so badly, but also tell her that I know I overreacted a little. We'll make up. Maybe we'll make some more bread. I'll show her how to do it right. Perhaps if I do ask my mother to send me some of my plush instruments from when I was a foal, I will show them to her; I am certain she would want to see them. She frowned. If she cares... no. She is my friend. I know she cares. She--

Her thoughts were distracted as the faint, yet unmistakeable, scent of fresh naan wafted across her muzzle.

For a moment, she didn't believe it. Nopony else in the village could make that bread; nopony else had a suitable oven. But it was definitely naan, and it was coming from outside her window. And it smelled perfect.

Opening it, she looked down... and smiled when she saw the beaming faces of Vinyl, Titchy, and Bluenote. Bluenote had her tuba, Vinyl her drums, and Titchy a little tin drum of his own, which he was banging with joyful abandon. Bluenote balanced a silver tray piled high with naan on her back. "Thank you," said Octavia. "You didn't have to..."

"I wanted to," said Bluenote. "Besides, this bread tastes really good when you make it right." She winked. "If you don't get some soon, I might just eat it all!"

Octavia found herself laughing too. "I cannot wait to try it."

Vinyl began to levitate the bread. As she did, Bluenote began to toot away on her tuba, and Titchy joined in with a very simple two-one drum pattern, even sticking his tongue out as he gave the task his total concentration. Octavia couldn't hide her smile. "I had no idea I would wake up to such music this morning."

"We wanted to surprise you, Tavi! This song's for you!"

Bluenote tooted a merry acknowledgement on her tuba, and Vinyl began to sing:

"I'm gonna bake you a friend cake
I'm gonna bake you a friend cake
I'm gonna put it on a friend plate
and serve it up to you

Octavia chuckled at the lyrics. "What's a friend plate?"

"A plate you give to a friend, obviously. Come on, Tavi, you're ruining the beat!" said Vinyl.

Octavia bowed her head graciously. "I apologize. Please, continue."

"I'm gonna bake you a friend cake
I'm gonna bake you a friend cake
I'm gonna put it on a friend plate
and serve it up to you.

The bread was almost in Octavia's reach, but then Vinyl yanked it away. Bluenote played a small 'wah-wah' effect with her tuba, then continued, playing more merrily than ever and beginning to shift around on her back legs. Octavia could only laugh and grab at the dancing bread.

"I'm gonna mix it in my friend bowl
And add a little bit of my soul
I'm gonna put it in your cake hole
I'll serve it up to you.

Octavia shut her eyes slightly. Yes, they had put heart and soul into this, just as she had with her original recipe. Why was I ever worried? They understand me perfectly. "If you intend to put anything in my 'cake hole', as you call it--"

"Gettin' there, Tavi!"

"It'll be so moist
It'll taste so good
Then you'll feel friendship
Deep inside of you.

"I'm gonna fold in a friend seed
Add in some yogurt and ka-lonji
I'm gonna guarantee that you'll feed.
Now time for some kazoo.

"Kazoo?" asked Octavia. "What--"

Then Vinyl tossed Titchy a kazoo, and he began buzzing away with gleeful abandon.

Bonbon poked her head into Octavia's room. "What's all the commotion?"

Octavia gestured. "Breakfast."

"Huh. Wish I had singing telegrams for my breakfast." She waved down into her yard. "You go Titchy! Play that kazoo!"

Vinyl grinned, then took the kazoo back after a few moments and resumed:

"It'll be so moist
It'll taste so good
Then you'll feel friendship
Deep inside of you.

"I'm gonna cut it with my friend knife
I'm gonna cut it til it feels just right
I'm gonna feed it to you all night
That's what I'm gonna do.

"It'll be so moist
It'll taste so good
Then you'll feel friendship
Deep inside of you.

The plate darted near Octavia. She reached to grab it, overbalanced, and fell--but was caught by Vinyl's magic and safely lowered to the ground before she even had a chance to panic. She smiled at her friends, and then the plate hovered right in front of her. Bluenote stopped playing the tuba and began to sing:

"I'm gonna bake you a friend cake
I'm gonna bake you a friend cake
I'm gonna put it on a friend plate
Now put it in your mouth!

Octavia quickly grabbed a piece before Vinyl could steal it away, bit into it, and...

"Bluenote? This is absolutely delicious. Thank you."

The blue mare blushed a bright scarlet, and then, before Octavia knew it, the two of them were hugging tightly.

"Let's never fight again," said Bluenote.

Octavia laughed. "I will do my very best," she pledged.

And--as the music continued, as Bonbon brought out more raita yogurt and Vinyl set up the table and Titchy ran hither and yon and proclaimed that Vinyl was the best big sister ever--Bluenote and Octavia exchanged a look and smiled. For they were friends, and whatever obstacles lay in their path, they would overcome them.

That was what friends did.