The Murder of Willow Marten

Come all you thoughtless young folk, a warning take by me,

And think upon my unhappy fate to be hanged upon a tree;

My name is Berry Cordial, to you I do declare,

I courted Willow Marten, most beautiful and fair.

Canterlot lay quiet and motionless on a deeply cold winter night. The sound of the wind whipping the window panes of the master bedroom was only interrupted by the occasional page turn or sip of coffee. Twilight was up late again, yet only because her friends would burst in any minute to wake her up again. The bookshelves in this part of the tower were thankfully adequate enough; it was too darn cold to put some slippers on and make the journey to the Castle Library.

Astronomy was impossible on a night like this, and Twilight was far too tired to practise anything. So instead she half buried herself in a dusty old book for children. It was about treasure and pirates, and actually rather good. She shifted off the thick pile of blankets and cushions surrounding her in her armchair and made her way toward the fire to put the kettle back on.

The irregular clack of hoofsteps, accompanied by frantic squeals and hushing coming up the grand staircase could only be the rest of the gang. Twilight quickly raced back underneath her blankets before the door swung open and sucked all of the heat from the room.

“Oh hi there, Twilight! You're awake!” bounced Pinkie as she jumped out of her bright blue boots and grabbed the prime spot in front of the fire.

“I've been asleep all day, so yeah...”

“As you should have been, dearest. You don't want to be feeling miserable all the way back to Ponyville, do you?”

“No... You're right. Well, where's Fluttershy? And Rainbow?”

“They said they'd be five minutes after us...” slurred Applejack. She was looking exhausted and waddled her way over to her bed. After mustering all that effort, she treated herself to a slump on the mattress, but had to try hard not to fall asleep there and then.

“So, was it good?”

“Oh, you couldn't possibly imagine...”, Rarity gasped. “Mr Starr was absolutely fabulous. I mean, at one point... I though he was looking at me! Oh, and the costumes were simply divine. The way they seamlessly brought old to the new was incredible, I should have taken notes... But I do feel terribly sorry we left you here...”

“No, please don't...” Twilight pleaded, “It was the only reason we came here, and it would have been such a waste for everyone if we went home just because I wasn't feeling right...”

“Now I'm the one feelin' 'not right'. Ah think I ate too much.” moaned Applejack as she made her way to the comfy chair opposite Twilight and let out what was in between a belch and a yawn.

“So, did you get any merch?”

“Oh, do you really take me for somepony who would do that?” grinned Rarity. “Pinkie bought herself a tacky bracelet thing, there was no way she was going to spend my money on it...”

“Can I see it on you, Pinkie?”

“Uuh... I lost it when we were dancing!”

“I'm not surprised the way you were dancing, Pinkie. You went an' hit me at one point!”

“Yeah, I know... But gosh was it fun though!”

At this point, Applejack leapt out of her seat and stumbled to the window, before chundering outside.

“AJ! What the hay are you doing! This is the castle! If everypony can see that in the morning, I will... regret I ever met you.”

“You don't mean that, do you Twilight? Anyway, somepony's been having too much cider and pie for one evening haven't they, Applejack...”

“Nah... nah... I'm still... standing...” she slurred before leaning over to one side, and collapsing neatly onto her bed.

The three girls still conscious giggled for a while before falling into silence as one to watch the fire. The wind had died, and only the crackling of the burning logs hung in the air. Twilight picked up the book she had selfishly left upside down on the armrest of her chair, and cursed herself for it. Those bindings are nasty to repair.

Just as she had fully immersed herself in the dreamy world of ships and pirates, the door burst open again, accompanied by another burst of biting cold. Flying in with enormous grins and squeals were Fluttershy and Rainbow Dash, each holding a thin square paper bag. Rainbow gave hers to Fluttershy, and began racing around the bedchamber, looking high and low in all the nooks, crannies and cupboards.

“Oh, hello Twilight!” said Fluttershy as she sauntered over to the chez long “You wouldn't believe what we have!” She unwrapped her paper bag to reveal a gleaming new record.

Davie (The Rock) Starr

The Red Barn LP

12 Popular Folk Songs From Across Equestria

(Including his #1 Hit, The Murder of Willow Marten)

Fluttershy was eager to point out the signature she had acquired in the bottom corner of the album cover; she hadn't stopped grinning since the moment she came in. Rainbow stuggled her way down from a high shelf carrying an aged cardboard box. She and Fluttershy placed it on the dresser to the right of the fireplace and opened it up. Inside was a beautiful redwood record player.

“All right, which one do we play?”

“Mine! MINE!” squealed Fluttershy, as she rushed over, slipping the disk out of it's sleeve and popping it in the player. Rainbow screwed the horn on, and set the disk to spin at 78rpm. The girls watched in awe as she gently placed the needle on the edge of the disk.

A small crackle and pop emitted from the player, followed by silence. Fluttershy was all set to be heavily disappointed by a broken disk, when a faint violin began to play from the horn. The noise grew and grew until a delicate, but intricate solo filled the room. Then the violin stopped. And the whole band came in.

The wondrous melting pot of layers and textures pounded the senses like nothing else. Your heartbeat changed as the drums took over your body, the drone of the hurdy gurdy haunted your soul, the guitars were the backing track to your very existence. And now two violins came in force, dancing back and fourth in your mind; each unlike the other, but speaking in total harmony. The band stopped, only leaving the simple but haunting drone. Then Davie's voice came in. It was a voice that could move mountains, yet with the force of a gentle autumnal breeze.

Up until the early hours of the morning they listened to the record over and over again. Rainbow would get up and put the needle back to the beginning almost as soon as the final song was over; but not until it was truly over, when the echoes had finally escaped your mind.

One by one they drifted into a heavy slumber, with the exception of Twilight. When the final song was over, she didn't go over to put the needle back to the beginning; she didn't want to wake anyone up. Instead she sat staring at the smouldering embers in the fireplace, imagining those same songs in her head. They made an excellent soundtrack to the dusty old book she had continued reading.

After waking up an uncooperative Applejack from her cider induced slumber, they went downstairs for breakfast. With the exception of Twilight and Applejack, they all ate heartily after their energetic sortie the previous night. They each thanked Princess Celestia for letting them stay in the Castle that weekend, and Rainbow politely begged to keep the record player, after realising she had none at home.

So with an extra cardboard box in tow, they made their way onto the platform to wait for the next train to Ponyville. They each gave Twilight their own account of what happened the previous night, all the gossip, news and spectacles. After much chatting and ribbing Applejack after her being reportedly seen up close and personal with another stallion, they finally made their way on board the train home.

It was a long journey, and with their own private compartment, most of the girls fell asleep. Twilight however had a tune going round her head. She unboxed the record player and placed it on the floor of the compartment. Instead of screwing in the horn, she put in a cable leading to a pair of earmuffs that put the sound directly to your ears, which amused Twilight a lot. They were very practical earmuffs too, what with even the inside of the carriage being frightfully cold.

Her restless mind was put at ease when that song played into her head. It was a story, a true story nonetheless. Her inquisitive student mind wanted to know more about The Murder of Willow Marten.