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The Gentle Nights: Audience of One

by PaulAsaran

Chapter 16: Madhyāṃtar

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The Gentle Nights
Audience of One

Chapter XVI
Madhyāṃtar
Interlude

Octavia stared at the castle in the distance, her heart heavy. The moon was only a sliver in a sky filled with twinkling stars. The sight gave her no joy. She’d had no dreams last night, nor had there been any word from Luna. A lingering fear clawed at the back of her mind; what if Luna had taken away her ability to dream at all? The thought was almost unbearable.

She wanted to run to the castle, to gallop straight to Luna’s rooms and apologize for her outburst from the night before. Octavia still held firm her belief that Luna’s actions were wrong, yet that didn’t excuse her reaction. Had she angered Luna? Was that why no explanation had come, in pony or by note?

Head hanging, she shifted her cello case on her back and trudged down the street towards home. She couldn’t stop thinking about Luna, but to confront her about what happened... Why couldn’t she do it? Maybe Luna just needed time to stew over the situation. Octavia would grant her that. After all, the Garden Party was only a couple days away. On a Wednesday, of all days. She’d see Luna then.

Wouldn’t she?

Octavia shook her head forcefully; of course Luna would come, she’d promised! This situation didn’t put that big of a rift between them, surely. They'd meet at the Garden Party and have a nice, long talk afterwards. It was the monster that kept them apart, surely. Luna couldn’t see Octavia because she had to fight it.

If only Octavia could learn to defend herself. She paused before the front gate of her apartment complex, fumbling through a pocket of her carrying case for the keys.

“H-hey, Octy.”

She blinked at the familiar voice, then turned. Parish sat on a nearby bench, his mane disheveled and his tie loose. His eyes were set on her hooves.

“Parish?” She finally found her keys, but held on to them as she approached. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to… y’know.” He rubbed his mane, but it only flopped back into a mess. “I was waiting for you to get home so I could apologize.”

“Really?” She looked up at the starry night sky, then back at him. “How long have you been sitting there?”

“A couple hours. I know,” he grumbled, averting his eyes. “I’ve never been the most subtle of ponies.”

“You could have just met me at the Music Hall,” she said softly.

“No, I couldn’t. I wanted this to be a more private talk. I...” He lowered his head and pawed the bench. “I don’t think I could say it right in the open.”

She offered a weak smile. “Now that I can understand.”

“The Garden Party’s coming,” he added after a moment, matching her smile. “Can you imagine letting this hang over our heads while we’re on stage together?”

“That would be trouble, wouldn’t it?” Octavia sat on the bench next to him, tail tucking around her cutie mark. For a time, neither spoke; they only stared at their respective hooves. They both attempted to speak at once, paused, tried again.

Octavia smirked. “Alright, you go first.”

“Okay.” He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I’m sorry. I was looking at things – at you – in the wrong way. I don’t have a good excuse, save overeagerness.” He turned to give her an imploring look. “But even if I was being a little aggressive, Octavia, I swear that I never saw you as a shallow pony. I just… I was so disappointed. I kind of said things without thinking.” With a sigh, he added, “Something I’m really good at, apparently.”

“It’s okay, Parish,” she said, offering him her warmest smile. “I know you didn’t mean any harm. And I’m sorry, as well; I never should have blown up as I did. Beauty says such things are healthy, and maybe she’s right, but I think I need to practice on controlling those vents.” She fidgeted and bowed her head. “Can you forgive me for taking it out on you?”

“Nah, there’s nothing to forgive.” He matched her pose and sighed. “I’ve had more than a day to think on it, and I realize I sorta had it coming.”

Tentatively, she touched his hoof. “So… friends?”

He looked up with a broad smile. “Yeah, friends.” He took her hoof in one and patted it with the other. “I think I can live with that.”

They shared a quiet smile, but then he released her hoof and sat back. “So. Princess Luna. How’s that working out for you?”

Octavia winced and turned to face the street. “I… don’t know. I have no idea what to do, and things are a bit awkward at the moment.” She bowed her head and sighed. “I think I might understand how you felt all this time, Parish.”

“Oh.” He turned to also face the street. “So… you don’t know how she feels yet? Does she even know you’re interested?”

She tapped her hooves, once again feeling the weight of her heart. “No.”

“I see.” Parish considered this, then stood from the bench and faced her. “If there’s anything I learned while chasing your tail – if you’ll pardon the phrase – it’s that you shouldn’t be too aggressive. In your case, though, I think the very opposite might be a problem.”

She blinked and gave him a skeptical look. “Parish Nandermane, are you trying to give me advice on dating?”

“I’m only trying to warn you,” he replied, expression serious. “How long have you been seeing her? Months? And you’ve yet to make a move?”

Octavia cocked her head and raised an eyebrow. “And what exactly do you call our little dinner date the other night?”

“Oh, right.” He blushed and rubbed his mane again with a sheepish grin. “And that killer dress.”

She felt her cheeks burn at the mention of the stallion’s dream, now safely hidden away in her closet. “Y-yes, that too.”

Parish blinked and stared at her, then abruptly facehooved. “Wait, you mean you asked her on a date, risked being the target of every journalist in Equestria and wore a smoking hot dress… and the princess still hasn’t caught on?” She gave a weak nod. “Wow, and Beauty says I’m clueless.”

“Luna’s still… awkward,” Octavia admitted, fidgeting in place. “She’s been getting better, a little at a time. I have a plan, though.”

“Really?” His eyes lit up. “Is it the hush-hush kind, or can I hear about it?”

“Hush-hush,” she replied with a smile. “When the time comes, though, I might just ask for help.”

Parish nodded, matching her smile with a warm one of his own. “When and if the time comes, I’ll be ready. Just say the word, Octy.”

“Thanks, Parish. Really.” Octavia stood and rattled her keys. “But for now, I need to practice. The Garden Party’s coming up fast, after all.”

“Indeed it is.” He stood and rubbed his mane back yet again, unable to meet her eyes. “For what it’s worth, I was always ready to help, Octy. Even when I was being a lovestruck idiot.”

She smiled and moved close, placing a hoof to his shoulder. “You’re a good guy, Parish. I’m glad to have you as a friend.”

“Heh, friend.” He gained a pleasant smile of his own. “I think I can live with that.”


Luna’s shoulders sagged along with her head, and her mane and tail were a bit dim compared to the norm. Her mind centered on the creature, the foul thing that refused to be vanquished. Every time she thought she had it cornered, it would slip away at the last second. For all her experience with dreamweaving, it proved to be equally capable.

Two nights in a row devoted to chasing the abomination. Celestia had tried to calm her anger, to no avail. Its abhorrent trespass into Octavia’s dream burned at Luna’s mind like a red coal, and she refused to let it have another chance. It would die first. The fact that she would be killing her own creation was of no consequence.

Her ears perked to the sound of hoofsteps. She waited for her sister to reach the balcony before speaking. “Do not try to take me off this path again, Celestia. I am in no mood.”

“And what path would that be?”

She blinked and turned to find not Celestia at her side, but Princess Cadance. Luna stared at her adoptive niece as if having never seen her before. “Do you expect me to believe that you somehow convinced my sister to let you raise the sun?”

Cadance grinned and brushed her colorful mane back. “Believe me, it wasn’t easy. How are you, Aunt Luna?”

“Tired,” Luna confessed. “It has been a busy night.”

“A busy couple of nights, if what Aunt Tia says is true.” Cadance eyed her with concern. “Part of the reason she was so hard to convince was that she was eager to speak to you again.”

Luna grimaced. “Exactly how much did she tell you?”

“Only that your friend, Octavia, could be in trouble.”

“It is not just her,” Luna hurried to say. She turned to face the horizon, her eyes going to the thin moon. “Every pony in Equestria is under threat from the creature. As Princess of the Night, it is my duty to protect them.”

Cadance leaned forward, trying to look her in the eye. “But it is Octavia that most concerns you now, isn’t it?”

Luna’s grimace returned. “I have no interest in discussing her.”

That made Cadance’s eyebrows rise. “Did the two of you have a fight?”

An ice pick skewered Luna’s heart; she flinched and pressed a hoof to her chest. “Th-that’s not why I—” She pressed her lips firmly closed before she could betray more than she already had.

“Aunt Luna?”

She closed her eyes and ground her teeth. “I do not want to speak of this.” For a time there was a silence, but she could feel Cadance’s eyes on her. She at last peeked out of a lone eye to see her niece watching her with that same expression of deep concern. It prompted her to add a firm “No.”

Cadance sighed. “The easiest way to have me form my own conclusions is by saying nothing.”

“I didn’t say ‘nothing,’” Luna corrected without a hint of sarcasm, “I said ‘No.’”

Cadance tilted her head with a dull frown. “You do realize I am the Princess of Love, right?”

Luna raised an eyebrow. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“A lot.” Cadance turned to the horizon. “It means I can detect it just as easily as I can spread it.”

“I think you’re confused.”

“Not so confused as you, Aunt Luna.”

The baiting couldn’t be more obvious. Luna grimaced as she realized she’d be falling for it, regardless. “I have nothing to be confused by. The monster came into Octavia’s dream and I will keep it from doing so again! The situation seems very straightforward.”

“It always does at first.” Cadance’s lips turned up in a sly smile. “Then things get complicated. Take Shining Armor, for example.”

Luna shot her a questioning look. “Your mate? What of him?”

Cadance broke into a fit of giggles, her cheeks turning an extra shade of pink. “Nopony says ‘mate’ anymore, Aunt Luna! Except in the bedroom. He’s my coltfriend.”

Her own cheeks burning, Luna glanced away with a small huff. “I’ll remember that this time.” She hoped.

“Shining loves me.” Once her giggling calmed down, Cadance continued, “I know he does, and so does he.” She raised her hooves as if to reach for something. “But he just. Can’t. Fathom it. His judgment is clouded by silly little worries; family, duty, consequences, so on and so forth. He’s yet to understand that love doesn’t care about such boundaries. As soon as he figures that out, well—” She grinned and toyed with her mane absent-mindedly, “—I suspect he’ll have a question for me.”

Luna stared at her. “Do you really think your relationship will go that far?”

“I have no doubt at all.” Cadance tapped her own head. “As soon as he gets his brains aligned, that is. I won’t push him; I have faith he’ll figure things out on his own soon.” She reached over and tapped Luna’s head in the same fashion, making her step back with an uncertain expression. “I think your brains are similarly scrambled.”

Shaking her head, Luna said, “I fail to grasp your meaning.”

“Good Goddess!” Cadance rolled her head back on her shoulders with a small groan. “Do you really want me to spell it out for you?”

Luna scowled. “Now listen to me, young filly—”

“You’re in love with Octavia.”

Her words caught in her throat as Cadance’s declaration swam about her head. She sat and tried to process the accusation, but was left only with confusion. “What?”

Cadance gained a sly smile at her expression. “Just think about it for a bit.”

Against her better judgment, Luna found herself doing precisely that.

Thank you for the stars.

Did you go to see her again?

So is she as talented in real life as she is in her dreams?

You mean you’ve been watching me?

It sounds too much like you’re putting me on a pedestal.

You are not Nightmare Moon!

I have Octavia.

I really want to hear her music right now.

So you’ll go?

For you? Of course I will.

Princess Luna, what’s your pleasure?

“The Garden Party.”

Cadance blinked. “What?”

Luna stared at her hooves with wide eyes, her cheeks hot. “I was so wrapped up in my work, I forgot all about it. It’s this week. Oh Goddess, what if I had missed it?”

“And… that has what to do with Octavia?” Cadance asked.

“Octavia is—” Luna’s head snapped up to stare at her niece. “O-Octavia is… By the stars.”

The smirk returned to Cadance’s face. “So have you figured it out?”

“It’s not what you think.” Luna turned back to the horizon, forcing her face into a blank expression and wishing she could douse the fire in her cheeks. “You have the wrong idea.”

“Denial is not going to help anything, Auntie.”

She ground her teeth and refused to match Cadance’s gaze. “You don’t know what you are talking about.”

Cadance chuckled. “You presume to tell the Princess of Love that she doesn’t know anything about love?”

Luna stomped. “We are done discussing this. Come, let us see if you can handle my sister’s job; we are late.”

Even as she said it, however, Luna found her concentration off. When she closed her eyes to focus on the moon, she was greeting by a wave of flowing, immaculate grey hair. She could almost feel it brush beneath her chin. The thought alone was enough to make her tremble in anticipation, and she nearly lost her hold on her extraterrestrial charge.

“The moon is shaking.”

Baring her teeth with a growl, Luna shoved the tantalizing apparition from her mind and focused on her work. She forced her eyes open and watched as the wobbling moon steadied itself and slid below the horizon. The sun began to rise in its place, but its pace was slow and uneven. Luna glanced at her niece to see Cadance sweating from exertion, her eyes clenched shut and horn sparking like a firework.

All frustration faded as concern took over. Luna considered lending her magic to help, but resisted; Cadance would surely ask if the task was above her. The sun was not an easy thing to tame, this she knew from her own attempts centuries ago. She bit her lip and turned to watch as the orb made its slow, trembling journey to its proper place. Only not; when it finally stopped, it was a little off. Not enough to be particularly noticeable, though. Luna herself only knew from daily observation.

A burst of air escaped Cadance as she sagged to the floor. “H-how does she make it look so easy?”

“You did well,” Luna assured her. “Far better than my first attempt, for certain.”

Cadance’s ears perked and a smile lit up her face. “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Luna offered her hoof, which Cadance accepted. Her legs wobbled, but she managed to stay standing on her own.

“It’s good to know I am capable of it,” Cadance admitted. “I’ve always wanted to try, ever since I earned my horn.”

“I am sure Celestia appreciates the opportunity to sleep in,” Luna added with a pleased smile.

“Goddess knows she hasn’t had such a chance in centuries.” Cadance brushed the sweat from her brow, then turned to smirk at Luna. “Now, why don't we get back to your difficulties?”

Luna threw her head back and took on an air of pomp, doing her best to ignore the slight increase in her heart rate. “I told you, I do not wish to speak of it.”

“Oh, come on.” Cadance lowered her head and focused. Her horn glowed, but dimly.

“You shouldn’t try to work your magic so soon,” Luna warned haughtily. “Rest.”

“Your heart is throbbing.”

A flame erupted within Luna and she took a warning step closer. “Whatever you are doing, stop it now.”

“I am only examining you,” Cadance replied pleasantly, the glow of her horn not diminishing. “Your heartstrings sing, but you’re drowning their chorus.”

“I said stop!” Luna’s horn flashed, and the glow of Cadance’s horn disappeared with a loud pop that made her flinch.

Cadance winced and rubbed her head, but her eyes were set on Luna. “What are you so afraid of, Auntie?”

Luna turned away and rubbed her temples. “I am not afraid, I am tired.” She closed her eyes and trembled at the velvety feel of an imaginary tail drifted across her cheek. “I am going to bed. Good morning, Cadance.”

“Aunt Luna?”

She paused to look back with a scowl.

Cadance stared at her, her face filled with concern. “Denial won’t help. You know that, right?”

For a while, Luna simply stared at her. Finally she turned away. “There is nothing to deny.”

Yet as she descended the stairs, Luna found her confidence wavering. Her thoughts kept drifting to Octavia; her voice, her kindness, her calm. She told herself that she was only feeling guilty about the dream from a couple nights ago. That had to be it. ‘Love,’ how predictably silly of Equestria’s youngest princess. That kind of flighty interest might be plausible for her sister, but Luna had given up on the idea over a millennium ago.

She managed to keep these thoughts up all the way to her quarters. By then, she’d thoroughly convinced herself that Cadance’s abilities as the Princess of Love required sharpening, for clearly she’d been off the mark this time.

Luna passed through her meeting room and entered the lounge. As always, her eyes flitted towards the armor in the corner. As always, she dismissed the abrupt urge to have the abominable set destroyed. As always, she reminded herself of why she kept it.

Her eyes passed over the two couches. For a moment – the tiniest flight of fancy – she thought she could see Octavia sitting in her usual spot, sipping tea and talking pleasantly. There would be no conversations on the couches this week, no; this week Luna would act as a guest at this so-called ‘Garden Party.’ She couldn’t believe she’d let the event slip her mind. After all, she had promised Octavia that she would go, and she couldn’t stand the thought of the mare’s disappointed face.

Even as she thought it, the image of Octavia came to her mind’s eye: crestfallen, afraid, angry. The sight twisted Luna’s heart. She couldn’t allow that to—

She shook her head forcefully; her worry was for her friend, and no further!

With a groan, Luna turned for the door to her bedroom. Sleep, that was what she needed. Her mind would quit running circles around this foalish topic if it was fresh.

The balcony window provided the only source of light in the bedroom. Luna shut the door behind her and, with but a thought, closed the curtains. In an instant, the bedroom became enshrouded in perfect darkness. Luna took a moment to let the shadows embrace her and relax, her breathing coming in a slow, gentle rhythm. The tension in her shoulders faded, her brow unfurled, her mind cleared.

No, not entirely. Luna’s ears perked to something faint, a gentle sound that seemed to come from nowhere, and yet everywhere. She glanced around at the darkness, trying to determine the origin. All was quiet save for the tone… no, the tune. It was a song.

From a cello.

Her eyes widened and she clapped her hooves over her ears, but the music persisted. She recognized that playing. By now it was the most easily recognizable style she could have ever heard. She sat and shook her head, trying to think of some other song to play in her ears, yet no matter how hard she tried, every melody she thought of gradually morphed back to one of those familiar, blessed songs.

Luna’s thoughts turned to Cadance, but she was wrong. It couldn’t be that. Luna hurried to her bed and all but dove under the covers, silently begging sleep to take over. Octavia’s music continued to haunt her as she trembled in the dark.


Octavia’s eyes flitted open yet again. She stared at her bedroom wall, traced its worn wooden panels. An aura of despondency pressed down on her like the blankets wrapped about her body. She remained motionless, offered no sound, ignored the stray hairs lingering in her vision.

No dreams last night.

No Luna.

Again.

With a sigh, she turned to her barrel and pressed her face into her pillow. Three nights in a row. Why couldn’t she dream? If only she could speak to Luna, to apologize for becoming so emotional. Surely she wasn’t being avoided? She told herself over and over again that Luna wouldn’t do such a thing, but in the back of her mind sat a voice reminding her that Luna wasn’t as strong as she tried to look.

Octavia didn’t feel all that strong, herself. She couldn’t even bring herself to go to the castle and apologize in pony. If the threat of an argument didn’t loom over her thoughts then it might have been easy. Worse were the thoughts of her sister and her cruel words. Benjamina… Octavia had sworn not to speak to her again until she’d reached the same elite status. Even now, her heart ached at the thought that she still hadn't made it.

Nildia…

Why was Nildia stuck in her head? Because Benjamina lived there?

She slowly sat up, the sheets dropping off her with a quiet thwoomp. With dull eyes, she stared at the wall above her headboard and thought of the land of her ancestors, a part of the world she’d not seen in so long. She missed the wild country, roaming through the jungles with her father on ‘adventures.’ At least, she always looked at them as such. In reality they always followed the known paths to get to the ancient ruins, which always had a base camp for them to stay at. It had still been exciting to a young mare not even out of grade school.

The thought brought a smile to her lips. She realized that she wanted to go back to Nildia, if only because of the nostalgia.

The smile faded; that wouldn’t happen so long as she hadn't rectified things with her sister. She couldn’t risk the mare learning of her visit and coming to gloat. Because Benji would gloat – it was in her nature – and had the meanness to seek Octavia out just for the sake of doing it.

Besides, Octavia had her career, her music… and Luna.

At least, she hoped she had Luna. If only the blasted mare would visit her in her dreams. If only she could have dreams!

Her eyes went to her cello, set in its stand in the corner. She’d practiced well into the evening in preparation for the coming Garden Party. By now she knew the songs by heart. Octavia pondered practicing some more, just to get her mind off things, but knew it was pointless. Going out didn’t appeal to her, either; even if she had been in the mood, she didn’t want to risk running into another group of reporters. They’d come after her every day so far; she wouldn’t give them a chance this time.

What else could she do? Her song for Luna had stalled, not for lack of interest but, rather, a lack of ideas. So… what else?

With a groan, she crawled her way off the bed. Stretching her legs resulted in pleasant pops, but even with that she didn’t feel very energetic. She glanced at the window and noted the sunlight pouring through; it had to be late in the morning. Her mind went to Vinyl, only to immediately discard the thought as she recalled her old friend wouldn’t be home for several more days.

Thoughts of Luna drifted through her head, prompting her to sit and rub her eyes with a growl. “Gotta think of something to do.” She didn’t think she’d ever had such a horrid case of cabin fever. Her options ran circles though her head: write, practice, go out, write, practice, go out…

She sighed and lowered her head. As she did, something caught her eye; an object hidden well beneath her bed. It took her only a second to conclude that her curiosity would at least leave her distracted for a few seconds, and so she dropped to her barrel and nudged the loose sheets aside. A long row of familiar books stood neatly beneath the frame, covered in dust. They were all from home; musical textbooks, old favorites, things of that nature.

Her eyes slowly passed along the titles. It was so easy to forget these were down there; out of sight, out of mind, as they say. Perhaps reading would be a decent pastime for the day? Nothing really stood out to her, though—

She paused, gaze set upon a particularly thick yellow tome. There was no book in her meager collection more recognizable. Almost on instinct, she pulled it out from the dust and cobwebs. She sat up and blew on the cover, sending a cloud of particles flying. Her eyes played along the bright red title:

In The Eyes of Foreign Gods: A Reference and History of Nildia by Brass Compass

A smile crept along Octavia’s lips, her interest peaked as she rubbed the smooth cover. “Hello again, Dad.”

Without a second thought, she jumped back to bed and opened to the first yellowed page.

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