AMORE OBBLIGATO

Chapter 6: Mano Sinistra

With a smart rap on Twilight's music stand with her new conductor's baton, Octavia stopped her student. “Alright, Twilight, let us try it again, this time at sixty beats per minute.”

Twilight stretched the cramping fingers of her left hand, trying to restore the feeling into the tips again. “Would it be alright if we take a break for a minute? My fingertips have gone numb again.”

Octavia turned back from the metronome she had been adjusting and stopped the pendulum from it's sideways TICK TOCK movements. “Again? I thought you said you were practicing. Your speed has certainly improved lately.”

“I have. In fact, aside from my homework, it's all I've been allowed to do these past two weeks,” Twilight replied. She blushed at her, partly in shame of admitting to her punishment again, but mostly because of to whom she was admitting this. “I think I might be hitting that wall of pain about which you were talking.”

Stepping around the music stand, Octavia took the blushing filly's hand, noting the claw-like position it had attained. “Oh, dear. This will not do at all.” She started massaging her hand, trying to get it to release its current unnatural shape. “I believe I shall speak with your guardian about this punishment of yours. It sounds awfully severe to me.”

Twilight was captivated by the strong, yet delicate hands which cradled hers, soothing its aches. Omigosh! Her hands are so warm! And strong! I bet she could crush walnuts in them, but she's so gentle with me. She was so caught up in the sensation of having her hand massaged by the beautiful mare, that the best she could manage was a weak, “No, it's alright, really. I... I sorta... earned it...”

Octavia stopped massaging the hand and just held it between her own and looked the filly in the eye. “Whatever it was you did Twilight, could not have been bad enough to warrant something this strong. I insist that it is no trouble, and shall brook no argument against it.” She smiled softly, sending a flutter through Twilight's chest. “It is what friends do.”

Never before had Twilight felt such soaring exhilaration and crushing despair all at once. To be called a friend by Octavia was akin to drowning in overly affectionate puppies and kittens; the feeling so bittersweet, it almost physically hurt. With a shake of her head, she cast off the gloomy thoughts, putting them into a compartment to deal with later. “It's okay, really. I only have three more days left, then I can get my books and privileges back. Of course, I won't stop practicing once they're back, but I'll at least have something else to occupy my mind when I get bored.” Her attention was drawn again to the hands clasping hers, and she subtly shifted it so that her fingers settled between the earth pony's and unconsciously started to intertwine their hands together.

Such bliss as holding the mare's hand was denied, as Octavia let go and grabbed Twilight's shoulders. “Nevertheless, I shall speak with your caretaker. Perhaps she will see sense, if for no other reason than for your health.” She turned around and fished around in her cello case for a moment before coming up with a small tin. “For now, I shall teach you a trick when your hands get too sore to play.” Opening the tin released the strong scent of camphor oil, and she dipped two fingers into a clear paste inside. She rubbed the paste on the palms of her hands before taking Twilight's hand again, rubbing the substance on it. “Well, truth be told, it is not so much a trick as it is good advice passed on from musician to musician. This is just a camphor ointment. It eases the pain, but be sure to not use it too often, and make sure to wash your hands before eating.”

If Twilight thought her hands were warm and strong before, it was nothing compared to now. The ointment had a heat all its own which complimented the mare's own natural body warmth quite well, and the slickness of it made the finger massage ten times better in her estimation. So dumbstruck by what was happening, she didn't even manage a squeak of protest when her left hand was dropped in favor of her right which got a similar treatment.

“Make sure to take care of your bowing hand as well. Many forget to treat that one, and pay for it later, sometimes in the middle of a concert or recital.” Octavia worked quickly, but efficiently, noting how the filly's fingers slowly came loose once more. Finished, she pulled a small hand towel from her case and wiped off her hands. “I recommend you always carry around a small jar of that and a hand towel in your case, even after you 'get over the wall'. Even I sometimes still get cramps in my hands, especially after a long concert.”

“My hands are a little numb, now,” Twilight noted.

Nodding, Octavia replied, “Yes, that is normal. You will not be able to play for about ten minutes when the feeling returns totally.” She sat down in the chair facing Twilight and poured them both a cup of tea from the tea service brought for them. “So, how is school? What grade are you in, seventh, eighth?”

Twilight took a sip of her tea before quietly saying, “Um, twelfth, actually.”

Octavia's eyes went wide, and she almost sputtered her tea, an unforgivably embarrassing act in a setting such as this. Coughing politely into her hand she said, “My apologies, did you say twelfth?” At Twilight's silent nod, she asked, “How... But you are so young!”

Slumping down in her seat over her tea, Twilight nervously looked around the room for a way out of this uncomfortable conversation that did not exist. “Um, I was... skipped ahead a few grades...”

“A few?” Octavia exclaimed. “I should say it was a bit more than a few! I have never even heard of a pony smart enough to be skipped ahead so many times! You must be rather brilliant, Twilight.” She smiled at the filly, hoping to take the edge off of her earlier statements with a compliment.

A thrill went through Twilight's chest at the praise, but held her giddiness in check. She had seen such amazement at her advancement quickly turn to sour resentment at having one so young be so much smarter than them. There was absolutely no way she was about to tell her tutor that she could have, even wanted to be advanced further, but was restrained by The Princess and her parents in favor of not making her too out of place by having her be the first ten-year old high school graduate in almost a century. She gave a noncommittal murmur and a shrug as she looked away out the window.

Sensing that she was treading on dangerous ground, Octavia said, “I apologize. If this is uncomfortable for you, we can discuss something else.”

Needing no further prompting, Twilight jumped at the opportunity to change the subject. “Um, so, what college are you going to attend?”

Octavia's face lit up like a Hearth's Warming tree as she looked off into the future that she imagined for herself. “Actually, I am aiming for the Galliard Music Conservatory in Prancylvania. With a master's degree in music from there, I can pretty much write my own ticket into whatever orchestra I choose. My music teacher, Mr. Staccato, said that my tutoring a student or two in a classical instrument may give my application just the right bit of dedication that a school like that is looking for in a student.” She turned to Twilight and said, “Mind you, I am glad to have taken up tutoring regardless. One could say that I have been bitten by the teaching bug. Of course, it helps to have such an attentive and dedicated student such as yourself.”

Twilight blushed and squirmed in her seat. “I- I think you're a great teacher too, Octavia,” she all but whispered.

“That is very sweet of you to say,” Octavia replied. “Now, what say we get back to our lesson, shall we?”

(\ /)
( . .)
*(“)(“)

A gentle knock on the door followed by a contralto voice calling out, “Yes?” was all the preamble needed for Plain Sight to enter to find Octavia waiting for her.

“Someone said you wanted to talk to me about Twilight?” she asked, getting straight to the point.

Octavia rose, all stiff and polite, but unable to help it since she was still in the “music room” where she taught Twilight. “Yes, thank you for your promptness. I shall get right to the point. Do you not think the punishment you have laid out for her to be a tad harsh?”

The dappled-gray pony smirked as she slowly walked up to the prim and proper musician until they were so close, their breasts almost touched. Even though she had to look up to meet Octavia's eyes, the larger mare still felt a bit of unexplained trepidation from her. “You seem to be laboring under some sort of misapprehension, Ms. Octavia.”

Swallowing hard despite not wanting to show any fear, she replied, “And what would that be, Ms. Plain Sight?”

Plain Sight stood on the very tips of her hooves, stretching to reach the ear above her. “I'm not the one in charge of her discipline,” she whispered.

After a moment of shock, Octavia asked, “Then who is if I may be so bold as to inquire?” The shark-like grin that Plain Sight gave in return did nothing to quell the nervousness that overtook the musician.

(\ /)
( . .)
*(“)(“)

Octavia nearly jumped out of her skin when Vinyl pinched her arm and spilled her chamomile tea. “Don't do that!” she chided the deejay.

“Well, if you had responded one of the first ten times I called your name, I wouldn't have to do that. What's got you off in La-La land today?” Vinyl was sitting next to her and had apparently been nursing a large coffee for some time.

Looking around, Octavia finally realized that she was in her current favorite coffee shop, and had absolutely no idea how she had gotten there. Seated at a corner table, far away from the other customers who all seemed more inclined to hang around the counter, they were as alone as one could ever be in a coffeehouse. Nevertheless, Octavia was hesitant to tell her what had transpired that day. She hunched over across the table and whispered, “You have got to promise me you will not shout, nor draw attention to us when I tell you whom I met today.”

Vinyl leaned forward and whispered back, “Hate to break it to you, Sweet Stuff, but you leaning across to whisper at me draws way more attention than just talking all normal-like.” They looked around, but the apathetic crowd seemed far more interested in their own conversations and drinks than in the two musicians. Vinyl frowned, then shrugged. “At least, it would normally. Lay it on me.”

Octavia stopped chewing on her lower lip, but her excitement still shone in her eyes. Looking around once more to make sure no one was listening in, she whispered, “Do you remember that filly I am tutoring in violin? The one who recently got into trouble and was grounded? Well, I asked to talk to the one in charge of her punishment, and you'll never guess who it was!” In her excitement, she forgot to whisper and was almost talking in a normal tone of voice at the end.

Leaning back in her chair, Vinyl threw out the first wild guess that came to mind. “I dunno, the princess?”

Octavia's face slammed into the table so hard, it knocked over the napkin dispenser. Picking herself up, she asked in a vicious whisper, “How did you know?”

Vinyl's eyes went wide and she took off her signature sunglasses to stare at her fillyfriend in amazement. “Mother of Light, you're serious, aren't you?”

Giddy smile back in place, Octavia's hands clenched in front of her face as if to hold in the squeal she felt wanting to escape. She nodded, practically vibrating in place. “Oh Vinyl, she was so beautiful and so majestic! It was like talking to Jewels Seizer with the looks of Bawdry Lectern; back in her younger days, of course, not that she was not a looker when she passed away, but you know what I mean, and I'm babbling, aren't I?”

Still wide-eyed, Vinyl nodded. “Just a bit, but mostly you're gushing like a broken hydrant. I mean, I knew you were a fan of hers, but...”

“Oh, puh-lease, Vinyl. I am no mere fan, she is my idol. Everything I am or strive to be is but a pale imitation of her. If I could be but a tenth the pony she is, I could die a happy mare.” Suddenly conscious of how she was acting, Octavia mentally reined herself in and took a calming sip of her tea.

A sudden thought clicked in Vinyl's head and she asked in a voice full of dawning realization, “Wait, if she's the one in charge of your student's punishment, then who...” Octavia's manic grin made another appearance in answer to the unfinished question. Vinyl's hands shot out to grab her fillyfriend's free hand and pulled her close again. “Do you realize what this means? When word gets out who you're tutoring, you're going to have to turn down offers from nobles left and right for lessons! You're going to be rolling in bits!”

Octavia's smile vanished even faster than it appeared, and she snatched her hand away. “I will not betray my student's trust, nor her guardian's by using their names to garner more business, especially for something as base as mere money. If she chooses to disclose the name of her tutor, then it is her business, but I refuse to ride anypony's coattails.”

“Oh, come on, Octy. You can't tell me that the thought hasn't crossed your mind. I know how much you're going to be hurting for money in that fancy school you want to go to,” Vinyl replied, trying to mollify the mare's mercurial mood.

Rolling her eyes, Octavia gave a defeated nod. “Yes, money will be tight, what with mother's college fund only covering a small portion of the tuition and the rest by scholarships and loans, leaving very little for survival to be paid for by my own savings, and yes, that money would make things much easier for everyone, and yes, the thought did occur to me, but there are two things that allow me to turn down the idea. First of all, I am getting paid quite well for this job; as much as a fully accredited tutor for any noble. That will help enormously with school and living expenses. I even estimate that if I am frugal with my expenses, I will be able to leave mother a tidy little sum as a surprise for her when I go off. Secondly, I have my pride. As I said before, I refuse to ride anypony's coattails, but especially hers.”

Vinyl held up her hands in surrender. “Alright, alright. I was just trying to make sure you've thought it through.” Placing her sunglasses back on, she shifted gears and asked, “So, what's the kid like? Snooty? She must be a real Tartarus-raiser if she got slapped with community service. You never talk about her, so it's got me curious. I'm starting to wonder if I have some competition for you.”

“Well, I suppose it is alright to tell you, since you are likely to meet her this weekend,” the cellist replied, smiling at Vinyl's confused expression. “That was what I was getting to before you interrupted me with all that perfidious talk of name-dropping. I talked to... her guardian, and she agreed to send her to help with the school orchestra's concert this Satyrday as part of her community service.”

Vinyl lowered her glasses down the bridge of her nose and looked at Octavia over the rims. “Are you serious? She's not going to cause any trouble, is she? I mean, it may just be a charity show, but I don't want it ruined by some brat with a chip on her shoulder; I do have a rep to look after, you know.”

Taking a long sip from her tea, Octavia shook her head. “No need to worry. I talked with her ah, guardian, and she reassured me that my earlier assessment of her personality was accurate. She is a good filly, she just got into a spot of trouble with some bullies and handled it poorly. Were it not for the fact that somepony could have been hurt, she never would have been punished in the first place. Our show will be perfectly safe from her.”

Feeling less than convinced, Vinyl decided to not judge the filly before they'd even met and finished off her coffee. “Alright, but I reserve the right to punt her clear across Canterlot if she turns out to be a snobby brat. You know I can't stand ponies who think they're better than everyone else just because they have a title. It makes it harder for those of us who actually are better than everyone else,” she said with a wicked grin.

(\ /)
( . .)
*(“)(“)

Twilight felt like she was walking on a cloud. She kept looking at her hand, as if unable to believe it was still there. If she concentrated, she could almost imagine the feel of that beautiful mare's fingers massaging her own with gentle care. A goofy smile spread across her face as she thought of the lovely mare's slim fingers working out all the tension, the silky feel of her coat as she worked, even the curious mélange of odors wafting from her; some odd combination of sunflower perfume, camphor oil, aloe, and her own unique sweat smell. All of it combined to form a bouquet that was intoxicating to the filly.

Sighing contentedly, she picked up her quill again and resumed her essay for history class. She had found that if she paced herself carefully, she could make her homework stretch throughout the day instead of finishing it all within a half hour of walking through her apartment door. She needed something to take her mind off of the creeping boredom which threatened to drive her insane. Unable to withstand the silence accented only by the ticking clocks, she had let them all wind down until they went still, instead, filling the quiet with violin practice. While it did fill the emptiness, and had the added benefit of improving her fingering, there was only so much practicing she could stand, not to mention the other side effects from which she was suffering.

Being prone to violent outbursts, Kaiser Platinus soon alienated the other landholders in Griffonia with his all-too common harangues and belittling of his supposed allies within the nation. He- Twilight rubbed her eyes and stifled a yawn that threatened to split her head in two at the mouth. Setting down the quill once more, she looked out the window at the moon, judging the time by its position. “Two o'clock, already?” she asked the empty room. “I suppose I'd better get ready for bed. This will be the final weekend for my punishment, and The Princess said it was going to be something special.”

This was another habit she had gotten into since silencing the clocks. Talking aloud to herself seemed to fill some of the space, and despite Spike giving her weird looks, she found herself unable to stop. Stifling another yawn, she wandered over to the kitchen and pulled a spoon from a drawer and a jar from the pantry. She dipped the utensil into the jar and pulled out a heaping spoonful of peanut butter and began to nibble on it. Replacing the jar, she stood in front of the kitchen window and looked out over the sleeping town of Canterlot. Few were still up, mostly guards patrolling the streets and lamplighters on their rounds, making certain that the lamps were all still lit.

“I wonder if she's still up. She doesn't strike me as a night owl, but nor does she seem like a morning pony.” Unlatching the glass door leading to the balcony, she stepped out into the chilly night air and stared up at the stars. She knew it was just a trick of light; nothing more than minute particles of dust eclipsing them as they passed before her eyes, but Twilight couldn't help but think that two very close stars in the Aquila constellation seemed to be twinkling in counterpoint to one another. “I wonder if she's looking up at the stars right now. I bet that right at this exact moment, she looking up at those two stars and wondering if there's someone out there wishing they were as close to her as those two stars appear to be.” Finishing off the peanut butter, she gave the stars one last glance before heading inside. “Good night, Octavia.”

(\ /)
( . .)
*(“)(“)

The silence of Vinyl's darkened apartment was broken by the muffled CLICK CLICK CLICK of hoofsteps making their way to the kitchen, and the dark was temporarily spoiled by the opening of the refrigerator. Octavia pulled out a jug of milk, giving it an experimental sniff before pouring some into a glass she had placed on the counter. After replacing the jug in the fridge, she boldly walked out onto the apartment's third story balcony despite wearing only a see-through negligee, and the late season's cold weather.

The mare took a long drink from the glass and sighed tiredly as she looked out over Canterlot. Worry creased her brow, and a sudden breeze sent a chill up her spine, causing her to wrap her free arm around her midsection in order to hold her flimsy nightgown closed. I should not have raised my voice at her, but she is wasting her potential. Is it really so bad to want to earn a lot of money doing what you love?

Octavia tried to shake off the gloomy thoughts with a physical shake of her head, but like clinging spiderwebs, they were more persistent than that. She heard the approach of another pony, but other than the flicker of an ear, she gave no indication that she was aware. She stiffened a little as feminine arms encircled her waist and a head nuzzled into her shoulder blade. “Are we really cool?” Vinyl asked into the gray coat.

There was a long moment of silence as Octavia tried to rein in her wild emotions. “What makes you think that we are not?” she asked in a carefully modulated tone, not turning to look at her.

“Because you only get up in the middle of the night like this when you're upset; usually at me,” Vinyl replied, feeling a tiny niggle of worry strangle her heart.

“I just-”

“Worry about me; I know,” the deejay finished for her. “But really, Babe, I got this. You move in a different music scene than I do. You don't hear the horror stories about the Top Record label. They're infamous for screwing over their talent while keeping them trapped with contracts requiring ridiculous terms. If I had signed that fat roadapple eater's contract, I wouldn't have lasted a year before I twisted someone's head off their neck.”

Resting her free hand on top of Vinyl's, Octavia half twisted to catch a glimpse of her and said, “But could you not have just signed for a four-month contract? Something- anything to get your hoof in the door? Not many record labels are signing professional deejays, you know. They would have made for a good leaping off point to a better label.”

Vinyl sighed and mentally shook her head at her fillyfriend's stubborn reluctance to let the matter go. “No, Babe. They really wouldn't. I don't expect you to know it, being in the rarefied air of classical music, but down in the musical slums of the clubs, there's a scent on the air. Something new is coming, and I intend to be at the forefront of it, but I can't do that tied to a sinking ship like Top Records.” She kissed the nearly naked shoulder and added, “Please trust me, Octy. I know what I'm doing. And if I do go down in flames, I won't even begrudge you an 'I told you so' when all is said and done. Deal?”

Octavia set her glass down on the balcony rail and turned around fully to embrace the smaller unicorn. “I would rather see you successful than be able to tell you that. I am not that much into schadenfreude.” They kissed then, ignoring the bitter flavor their tears added to it. They pulled apart and Octavia smiled sadly down at her. “Best get back to bed; we have an early start tomorrow and a lot to do. I shall rejoin you as soon as I finish my milk.”

Vinyl hugged her again, burying her face in the earth pony's large breasts. “I don't want this to be what comes between us, Babe.”

Gently petting the electric blue mane, Octavia smiled down at her. “It will not be; I promise.” Looking her her shoulder at the night sky, her eyes sought out and found one of the few constellations she knew by heart. With practiced eyes, she followed the imaginary lines until they came across the familiar two stars that always seemed to twinkle in tandem. “You have my word, Vinyl.”

Author's Note

This chapter title was a bit difficult to come to. Whereas the others have been fairly obvious so far, this one actually requires a little thought to see how it fits. There is the obvious reference at the beginning of the chappie, but it goes a little deeper than that this time.

But, enough poseur talk. I rather like all the mushy stuff in this chappie; it seems to be what I really excel at writing.