AMORE OBBLIGATO

Chapter 13: Repente

As the train pulled into the station, Octavia tried unsuccessfully to hold back an enormous yawn. Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, she looked over at Vinyl, who was putting away a deck of cards and grinning wider than she could last remember such a feature gracing her face since the unicorn arrived at her school.

The conductor walked through the car, shouting, “Canterlot! Caaannnterlot station!”

The two mares silently gathered their baggage, a considerable feat for Octavia with her cello case, and swiftly exited the train amidst the crowd. “So, where to first?” Vinyl asked.

“I should like to see mother, first. It would be respectful, and I have missed her terribly,” the gray mare replied. “Then we may begin our search for Twilight.”

Vinyl nodded. “Great! Your mom always makes awesome pancakes, and I'm starved!”

Octavia glared at her, the bags and dark circles around her eyes making the glare all the more intense. “My mother is not your cook, nor is she just a pit stop on our trip. I do hope that you will treat her with the respect she deserves.”

“Octy, when have I ever mistreated Backstage?” Vinyl asked with a roll of her eyes. “She's like a second mom to me.” She looked over to the slightly mollified, yet still upset mare and sighed. Pulling her into a sideways hug, she added, “Cheer up. I'm sure she's doing fine. You left her that nice little bonus you got from the princess, right? That should have her sitting real pretty for a long time to come.”

“I do hope it was enough,” Octavia replied. “The bills were beginning to pile up when I left for Prancylvania, and Mother can be rather... opinionated when I try to lend a hand with the finances.”

Vinyl spared her friend a worried glance at the tone. She knew from personal experience that while Backstage did not earn as much as she did in her youth, she always refused when the unicorn tried to offer money to help defray the cost of feeding her whenever she stayed over as a filly. In the later years of high school, she couldn't help but notice whenever Octavia worried about her mother; her dour mood being all too infectious. She also couldn't help but notice that they were not headed in the right direction for their house. “Octy, where are we going?”

The gray mare gave her a weak smile. “It seems that while I was away, Mother found a new paramour. I do not know who it is, but Mother claims that they are very attentive, and I felt it better to not press for too many details. As long as she is happy, healthy, and not in any danger, I am quite satisfied. Apparently, things have been going so well for them, that she was asked to move in last year.”

“Good for her!” Vinyl said with a wide grin. “About time she moved on. I hated to think of her rattling alone in that tiny house, especially in a neighborhood that bad.”

“Mm. As am I.”

They continued in companionable silence, with Octavia only once referring to an address written down on a slip of paper, but the both of them becoming more and more confused as the time wore on. “Um, are you sure this is the right way?” Vinyl asked with growing trepidation.

“I... I do not know,” Octavia replied hesitantly. “Perhaps we should ask somepony for directions?” She spotted a unicorn policepony and walked over to him. “Pardon me, sir. Might I ask you for directions to this address?”

The unicorn glanced at the proffered slip and nodded. “Certainly, miss. You take that street there,” he indicated the street to their right, then followed it with several gestures as he gave directions, “follow it for four blocks, turn right, then straight on for another three. It should be on that block. If you see the Blueblood estate, you'll know you've gone too far.”

Octavia nodded. “Thank you, sir. Have a pleasant day.”

“You as well, miss,” he replied with a tilting of his cap.

Vinyl was silent until they were out of earshot of the stallion, whereupon she grabbed Octavia's sleeve. “Octy, that's the Noble District! Your mom has made it big!”

With a roll of her eyes, Octavia disentangled the unicorn's fingers and brushed the wrinkles from her sleeve. “Calm yourself, Vinyl. For all we know, Mother is seeing a live-in maid or gardener.”

“Even if she is, at least she's in a good neighborhood. No more worrying about her getting mugged walking home from work, right?”

Vinyl's cheer was difficult to deny, and Octavia smiled despite her reservations. “True, provided she is not still working at that horrid... establishment, anymore.”

“Yeah, “Vinyl agreed with a nod. “Rump Shakers may be a cute name for a club, but I wouldn't want my worst enemy to have to work there.”

They followed the policepony's directions in silence, noting how the neighborhood seemed to be getting cleaner and wealthier as they went. Most of their fellow pedestrians ignored Vinyl altogether, in favor of staring at Octavia in amazement. The gray mare, for her part, either did not recognize the attention, or was ignoring it entirely, much to Vinyl's amusement.

It wasn't long at all before they found themselves in front of a rather large estate in the richest neighborhood. The wrought-iron gate was joined in the middle by a stylized gold rose, but the house itself was hidden from view by a row of hedges at least eight hooves high that lined a path which curved out of view. Walking up to the intercom, Vinyl was stopped by a strong grip on her shoulder from Octavia, who glared at the unicorn. Vinyl backed away with her hands up in surrender. Clearing her throat, Octavia pressed the call button, then stood patiently and shifted the weight of her cello case strapped over her shoulder.

It was only a handful of seconds before a cultured male voice answered the buzz. “Heartstrings residence, how may I help you?”

“Octavia Melody and Vinyl Scratch to see Miss Backstage, please,” she answered, enunciating to allow her voice to clearly show her Canterlot accent.

“And your business with the lady?”

Octavia raised an eyebrow, but replied, “I have the honor of being her daughter.”

There was a moment's pause and the voice returned. “One moment while the car is brought around, Miss.”

Vinyl's eyes went wide and she silently mouthed to her friend, “The car?”

“I imagine that it is a bit of a walk from the front gates to the manor itself,” Octavia replied with a shrug. “The Heartstrings are one of the more prominent noble houses in Canterlot; well known for their philanthropy in the arts. One does not just donate one hundred fifty thousand bits to the Canterlot Philharmonic yearly without the means to back it up. Their estate is said to be one of the most grand in Canterlot.”

Further discussion was halted as a rickshaw pulled by an earth pony stallion with muscles that his tailored uniform could conceal in only the most general terms pulled around the corner and into view. With a deft maneuver that could only have come from lots of practice, he brought the vehicle around in a one hundred-eighty degree turn, only slowing to a stop once it was facing down the path he had come.

With a CLANK, the gate opened inward, the rose device splitting in two down a previously unnoticed seam. The stallion walked around and bowed deeply at the waist to the two mares. Straightening up, he held out his hands. “Your luggage, Ladies?”

Vinyl happily turned over possession of her wheeled suitcase, nodding with approval how its considerable weight did not even budge his hand. “Thanks, dude.”

Rolling her eyes at Vinyl, Octavia handed over her own suitcase, which he put into the same hand as Vinyls. “Please excuse my friend, Sir. She only appears to have been raised by timberwolves. Octavia Melody.”

She held out her hand, which was gently grasped by the stallion, and he bent over to brush his lips across it. “Just call me Butterscotch, Miss.” His name seemed to fit his light, golden-brown coat and slightly darker brown mane and tail. Letting her hand go, he quickly placed their baggage on the rack behind the passenger area before turning around for the cello. “Your instrument, Miss?”

Octavia unslung the case from her shoulder, noting approvingly how gingerly he treated it, before strapping it down along with the rest of the bags. Going to the hoofman's position, he helped each of them up into their seats, before returning to his usual spot between the poles and starting off again.

The path curved several times, even turning into a hedge tunnel near the end, where a curtain of flowering vines parted to allow the passengers their first unobstructed view of the manor itself. Vinyl gaped openly at the sheer opulence on display. Albino peacocks wandered through a garden of topiary which were stylized into ponies in various poses, some of which would have been quite risqué had they been rendered in stone or paint instead of privet bushes. The mansion itself was bigger than most apartment buildings in which she had lived, with generous use of marble trim and climbing vines which completely covered the body of the building.

Octavia ignored all of that however, having seen similar and much grander during her tutelage in Prancylvania. Instead, all her attention was focused on the mare who stood at the veranda, awaiting the cart. A smile spread on both their faces as details came into focus. Octavia noted that the pale rose colored earth pony seemed to be in better health than she had seen her in years, which eased some of the tension in her chest.

Before the rickshaw had even come to a complete stop, she was out and running up to her mother, who eagerly embraced her. “I've missed you so much, Massimina1.”

“I've missed you too, Gioietta mia2,” Backstage replied as she nuzzled into her daughter's mane, chuckling at her daughter's use of the slightly disrespectful nickname.

Octavia grinned as she tightened her grip. She pulled back to take her in more fully. “You look wonderful, Mother. Obviously, you have been doing something agreeable.”

Backstage smiled again and shrugged. “Retirement has a way of doing that, dear.”

Octavia's grin became positively beatific at the news. “Mother, that's wonderful! Are you sure that you're financially secure enough for-”

She was interrupted by Vinyl playfully chucking her on the shoulder from behind. “Honestly, Octy! She's living in a mansion, dressing well, looks healthier than she has in years, and you're worried if she can afford to retire.” She looked over to Backstage and stage whispered behind her hand, “She's just wondering if the money she left you was enough, the worrywart.”

The elder mare gave a small giggle as she took both mares by the hand and led them inside through the front entrance. “Oh, Gioietta, I never touched that money, except to put it into a trust for you. It's already accrued into a quite the tidy sum. You may have it whenever you decide to stop dithering and graduate.”

Octavia gave a frustrated sigh as she was led into a parlor and sat down on a couch next to Vinyl. “Mother! I gave you that money so would not have to scrimp in order to get by!”

“And I told you that I will not accept charity from my daughter,” Backstage replied as she sat down in a wingback chair opposite them. “That's not how being a parent works. You'll understand someday, when you're a mother.” She smiled and nodded at a maid who came in to set down a silver tray with a pot of tea and four cups.

Vinyl nodded as she looked at the opulence of the room, which did not fail to impress just how much money the owner had to their name. “So, how did you manage to land a bunk at a crib this swank? You boinking the lord of the house?” She pumped a finger through the hole made by her other forefinger and thumb before Octavia pinched her arm. “Ow!”

“Vinyl, this is my mother we're talking about. So help me, Celestia, if you don't dial it down, I'll dial it down for you.” Satisfied that her threat was properly conveyed to the newly wounded unicorn, she added, “Besides, Lord and Lady Heartstrings are happily married, with several children.”

Backstage chuckled again. “Oh, Octavia. No need to be so protective. Besides, she's right.” She smirked as her daughter's jaw dropped. “Close your mouth, dear; you're attracting flies.”

Octavia looked ready to faint and rage, all at once, but couldn't decide which to do first. Vinyl, however, beat her to the question. “Whoa- hoh! How'd you manage that? Better yet, how do you keep it from the missus if you're living here, too?”

“She doesn't.”

All heads turned to see a unicorn mare whose coat was an indigo so pale as to almost be white, wearing a pale pink dress and more jewelry than either of the visiting ponies owned. She sauntered over to Backstage and leaned over to give her a rather passionate kiss on the lips before settling down on the armrest of the chair. “Keep it from me, that is.” She looked down to see that Backstage was rather annoyed. “Oh, dear. You wanted to tell them yourself, didn't you?”

Backstage let out an annoyed sigh, but placed a hand on the mare's knee. “What's done, is done, Pelly.” She looked over at her daughter and said, “Octavia, both A Cappella and her husband, Dulcimer Heartstrings are my lovers.” Seeing that this was going over her head, she added, “I'm their mistress, Gioietta.”

“H- how?” the gray mare squeaked out.

Sighing again, she leaned back, her hand still resting on A Cappella's knee. “To make a long story short, they've been customers of mine at Rump Shakers for years- never together, of course. When they 'step out' as they like to call it, it's always in disguise so as to avoid scandal, and always without the other, so they had no idea that they had been frequenting the same gentlestallion's club, nor that they shared the same favorite dancer. About a year ago, it so happened that they came to the club on the same night and instantly recognized one another. I don't mind telling you that you could cut the tension with a knife when they both called me over for their usual lap dance and conversation. They stared at each other for a moment before breaking out into laughter. Then, in the sweetest gesture I've ever seen, they proposed that I be their live-in mistress.”

“She's leaving out a few thing that would make it easier to understand that we're not taking advantage of your dear mother, but that's the gist of it on her side without going into the personal and messier details,” A Cappella said, her hand resting on top of Backstage's. “Dully and I separately had actually been thinking of approaching her with the offer earlier. Neither of us liked to see her walk through that neighborhood, and would drive her home whenever we went to see her. After we had discovered our... mutual acquaintance, we felt the time was past due.”

Octavia looked bewildered as she brought a hand to her forehead. “I... I need a moment to process this.” With that, she stood and walked over to the grand window overlooking the garden, standing there with her back to the room.

“Oh, dear,” A Cappella said quietly, looking at the gray mare with concern.

Backstage patted her knee reassuringly. “It'll be fine, sweetheart. The same thing happened when I told her that I had go back to moonlighting as a dancer, because I wasn't making enough money at the bookstore.”

“Well, I'll say it for both of us; We're glad you're doing so much better for yourself, Backstage,” Vinyl said as she poured a cup of tea for herself and Octavia, loading hers with five sugar cubes, and adding just a few drops of honey to Octavia's. “Every other word out of her mouth was how much she was worried about you at school.”

A Cappella smiled at her. “Aw, that's so sweet. The very picture of the doting daughter.”

“So what were the other words out of her mouth?” Backstage asked slyly. “Something to do with getting back together with you, I presume?”

Vinyl smirked. “Then you would presume wrong, I'm afraid.” She gave a small chuckle at the surprise at the mare's surprised reaction. “I would say it was an even split between her music, and how much she missed me and Twi. Oh, and the offers she was getting from orchestras, but I suppose you could put that under her music, so whatevs.”

A Cappella arched an eyebrow at her. “I never thought much about her name until I saw the cello case out in the foyer. Do you mean to tell me that the Octavia Melody burning up the classical music scene and this Octavia are the same Octavia?”

“I am.” Octavia resumed her seat next to Vinyl, gratefully accepting the offered cup. The tension seemed to drain from her shoulders as she sipped it and replaced it on the table. “It is rather impolite to speak of someone in the same room as if they are not there, you know.”

“All sorted, Dear?” Backstage asked.

Octavia nodded and sipped her tea. “Yes, I believe so, Mother. I take it this arrangement is not public knowledge?”

Intertwining her fingers with Backstage's, A Cappella replied, “Well, I wouldn't go that far. While we aren't shouting it from the mountaintops, we don't exactly hide it, either. Both of us have been seen in public with your delightful mother, and yes, while the press has been... enthusiastic in their pursuit of a story, it's really a non-issue.”

“It's like a soap opera up here in Canterlot! I'd forgotten how interesting the gossip can be in this town. Dag, I've missed this place!” Vinyl crowed with a short bark of laughter.

Octavia rolled her eyes while the two other mares laughed.

(\ /)
( . .)
*(“)(“)

Spike groaned quietly when he saw Twilight walk back into the reference room with yet another case of books. Apparently, his dismay wasn't voiced quietly enough, as Twilight said, “Come on, Spike. We have a lot of work to do, and we're really behind as it is without complaining.”

“Hey, it's not my fault we just had to straighten up the fiction section this morning,” the small dragon replied as he used a claw to open the new box. “If Rainbow hadn't come in looking for that Daring Doo side story novel that was rumored to exist, tearing apart that section even after we told her it was an urban legend, we'd already be done with this!”

Twilight shook her head sadly and tutted. “That filly needs to learn to trust me when I say that I know what's in this library.” She turned to Spike and waggled a finger at him. “But that doesn't forgive you from being rude to a customer, even if she is our friend, Spike. I'm very disappointed that you lost your cool that easily with her. What if she had been a pony looking for a book that she needed for research? We have few enough customers as it is, without you scaring them off by setting their tails on fire. And what if you had damaged any of the books?”

Spike rolled his eyes as he took down a row of books to make room on the shelf. “Still doesn't excuse her implying that we were hiding the truth from her and wanting to hog the book to ourselves.”

The little dragon was surprised when he felt Twilight put her arms over his shoulders from behind and hug him. “I know it doesn't, Spike, and I'll have a talk with her about it later. Who knows? She may even come by to apologize to you. In the meantime, do you think you can keep a lid on your temper?”

Spike was starting to get concerned. Twilight hadn't been this... demonstrative of her feelings in years. True, she had been getting better about not hiding her feelings since coming to Ponyville, but before that, she had pretty much started closing herself off since she started college. But now, she had been downright bipolar, going from moody and sullen, to almost clingy, and he was starting to worry. Maybe I should write the princess about- His thoughts were cut off as he felt a familiar feeling welling up in his belly, signaling the arrival of a message from one of the princesses. With a belch that shocked Twilight into releasing him and falling on her rump, a gout of green flame shot out of his mouth, allowing a scroll rolled up in a red ribbon and golden wax seal to pop into existence.

Immediately, Twilight's magic surrounded the missive, as she got back to her hooves. She brought it closer to inspect it, noticing something different about the wax seal. “Hm? Why would Princess Luna be sending us a message, especially at this time of day?”

“Yeah, isn't she usually asleep until six?” Spike asked.

Twilight nodded and let the scroll fall into her hands and broke the seal. “Usually, but they sometimes have to wake her early if some state business just can't wait, or there's some emergency.”

“Well, that doesn't sound ominous or anything,” Spike replied.

Rather than answer, Twilight silently read the letter, her stern expression softening, but leaving behind the confusion. “Well, that's odd.”

Spike leaned around to look at the letter himself. “What is it?”

“It looks like it's just an invitation to tea tomorrow at the palace; just me and the Princess,” Twilight replied. Her horn lit up again, and her eyes shifted colors several times as she reexamined the letter as well as the ribbon and the wax seal. She “Hmm”ed to herself several times, then shook her head. “No magic, other than the residuals that you'd expect from a letter like this, no invisible ink or lemon juice, and as far as I can tell, no codes or ciphers. So why would Princess Luna send me an invitation for tea with Princess Celestia?”

“Especially since she would normally be asleep at this time?” Spike added. He looked up at Twilight and asked, “Do you want to send a reply, Twi?”

Twilight nodded, and her horn lit up to bring out a sheet of paper and quill and ink for her helper. “At the very least, I need to RSVP. Let's see...” she stood a moment in silent thought before she began dictating her response. “Dear, Princess Luna. I would be delighted to accept the invitation, of course, and look forward to a lovely afternoon tea. I hope this letter isn't disturbing your rest, and that perhaps we could visit for a short time as well. Don't worry about lodgings for me, as I'll either spend the night at my old tower, or at my parent's place, before returning the next day or so. With warmest regards, Twilight Sparkle.”

With that, Spike rolled up the scroll and took it to the window and opened it before breathing a gout of flame on the scroll. The parchment lit right away, becoming a green mist which wended it's way to Canterlot. “I suppose we should get ready. Am I going with you this time, or did you want me to stay behind and keep the library open?”

Twilight walked out into the lobby and sighed sadly. “You may as well come with me, Spike. I'm sad to say that nothing short of oxygen suddenly becoming a necessary as books is going to make this building important to the townsponies for the next couple of days.” She walked over to the front door and paused at the opening. “Besides, there's a few errands I'd like to conduct in Canterlot, and I'm sure that Mom and Dad would love to see their favorite dragon again.”

As Twilight left to alert the mayor, Spike ran upstairs, his grin wider than it had been in days, as visions of the gems Twilight's parents kept in stock just to spoil him when she wasn't looking danced before his eyes.

(\ /)
( . .)
*(“)(“)

Plain Sight snatched the scroll as soon as it materialized and opened it to read. She smiled wide as she read, and shook her head. “That filly. Even in her most polite wording, she's still fishing for information. She'd make a grand diplomat if she tried.” The dappled mare looked over to a wobbly Luna, who sat at the edge of her bed, still mostly asleep.

“So she... acquiesced, then?” the diarch asked between yawns, her eyelids becoming heavier with every passing second.

“She did, Your Highness, though she's going to want to talk with you before returning home, I should think. Her curiosity is no mean thing.”

Luna nodded, her eyes finally losing the battle, closing for the foreseeable future. “That is... well... then...” In a second, she was asleep sitting up, a soft, delicate snore escaping with each breath.

Plain Sight eased the larger mare back into her bed, careful not to wake her, then pulled the covers up over her, and closing the small gap in the curtains she had opened so that they might see what they were doing. She was about to leave, when she considered for a moment. Nodding, she went over to the small desk next to one of the windows and pulled out a sheet of paper and jotted down a few ideas to keep Twilight from getting too suspicious about the lunar diarch, and left the note on the nightstand next to the slumbering mare. Work complete, she silently made her way out of the room, closing the door with a soft CLICK. She nodded to the guards standing at the doors, who returned the gesture with salutes.

With any luck, by this time tomorrow, Twily and Celestia will have ironed out their differences, making everyone's lives a little bit easier. Plain Sight's gait became a little bouncier at the thought. She was in such a good mood, she even decided to stop by the kitchens to see if she could scrounge up a little flan before checking on the condition of Twilight's tower, then returning to Ponyville.

Author's Note

Man, I wish I could get chapters out like I used to. I apologize for the lateness of the chapter, but now that a certain project I was doing for a friend is completed, that's one less obstacle for me, and maybe- just maybe, I can get these out more often than once every few months. Now, for the footnotes! I feel like Terry Pratchett! Thanks for helping with these two terms goes out to Toiwat. You rock, Dude(tte)!

1. Massimina: Massimia is an archaic word for a 32/4 note that is no longer used, while the "mina" suffix is often appended to a nickname to indicate a mother figure. In effect, Octavia is calling her mother old by using an outdated word, but doing so jokingly, by using the childish suffix for one's mother.
   
2. Gioietta mia: Literally, "My Little Joy".