A Not-So-Brief Interlude

Ludwig van Beethooven merrily trotted up the elegant marble stairs leading to the gates of the Crystal Palace. As a high class piano player-no, the high class piano player- Ludwig enjoyed many privileges. Foremost in his mind currently was that nobody expected him to lug a grand piano to a performance, instead carrying a slim folder containing the sheet music for the Canterlot Quartet.

Reaching the top of the wide staircase, his gaze was dragged upwards. Although he was used to luxurious buildings, living in one himself, he was always struck dumb by the sheer beauty of the Equestrian palaces. Tracing the gentle curves of buttresses and alighting upon sharp peaks with wide eyes, the tan earth pony allowed a dribble of moisture to escape his gaping jaw unheeded.

Jerked out of a dream of spires and columns by a loud groaning noise, he turned sharply to see the angry glares of the overburdened Canterlot Quartet. Muttering a quick excuse and apology, he slipped under the harp case of Parish Nandermane, sharing the weight of the heavy instrument. While Octavia Melody and Beauty Brass struggled up the last few stairs, the two stallions staggered through the enormous double doors.

A large room, lit by a single torch, awaited them. The light was reflected around the room by the jagged crystals, creating a stupefying effect. This was lost on Parish, as he dragged the amazed Ludwig forwards.

“C’mon, Ludwig, you may be full of energy, but we sure as hay aren’t!” Parish scolded. Grunts of assent followed from Octavia and Beauty, who had caught up to the duo. Hanging his head, Ludwig hoisted the harp higher on his withers and plodded on. The crystal floor beneath his feet passed steadily, until at last they had reached their suites.

Four polished doors on opposite sides of the polished hall, two tinged blue, the others purple, were the Quartet's separate rooms. The precious instruments were pulled through the individual doorways as carefully as possible, and made it into the rooms of their owners without a scratch. Once inside the sumptuous rooms, however, they were shoved into closets, among battered suitcases of formal attire, which had been previously delivered.

Ludwig, however, noticed none of this, partly because he had no instrument to guide through the doorway, and partly because his attention was fixed on the high, vaulted ceiling. Although not very wide, the room was ten times taller than he was. He circled the room, acting like a foal that had just gotten his cutie mark. The shining crystals were shaped into spirals and carved out to form alcoves, many of which held small, delicate sculptures. The main room, containing a sofa, bookcase, and bed, led to a tiny kitchen and even tinier bathroom, altogether had the most beautiful architecture Ludwig had ever seen.

A loud clicking sound from outside of the glittering door broke the spell. Ludwig sighed. Couldn’t a pony get any peace? All he wanted to do was lie in the tub and fantasize about meeting the architect who designed this place. Oh, well.

Picking up his polished hooves, he made his way to the door and drew it open. A graceful crystal mare waited outside.

“Um...Hello, miss”, Ludwig said. The mare dropped a curtsy, and then presented a tray holding a tea set, made of thin crystal.

“Princess Cadence and Shining Armor are looking forward to your performance tomorrow...very much.” The mare whispered furtively, glancing around the corridor.

“Er...thank you?” Ludwig stammered in confusion. Why was this such a big deal? It was hardly surprising that royalty was looking forwards to a performance by the Canterlot Quartet.

Rolling her eyes, the mare whispered, more forcefully, “I hear that they are expecting it to be very exciting.” Ludwig could only stare bemusedly at the mare. Her cutie mark, he noticed, was a green jeweled rose bud.

Sighing in exasperation, the mare glared at him, then flounced away, leaving the tea. Ludwig looked down, shrugged, and picked the tray up. He was hungry, after all, and there were some tasty looking cucumber and violet sandwiches on that tray.

Setting the tray down on a table, he glanced through a window. The sun was still high, and it looked like about three thirty. The perfect time for a snack. Leaning over to grab a sandwich, he was interrupted by a hard knocking at his door. He sat back, and glared at the wall. He stayed there for some time, the shadows lengthening, until the tea had cooled and the knocking finally stopped. Nodding in satisfaction, he nibbled at a sandwich peacefully.

WHAM! Ludwig jumped. He had only taken a few bites, before something else had interrupted his mini feast. Stomping his hooves, he again went to the door—only to see that he no longer had a door. Poking his head through the hole in the wall, he could see the tea mare’s hindquarters disappearing around a corner, adorned with the shreds of what has once been his door.

Groaning in exasperation, Ludwig gave up on his snack, calling a repairpony to fix the door on his way to bed.