The night was beautiful! Nightsong beamed as she pressed her snoot to the train’s window, soaking up the dimly lit landscape as it flashed by, illuminated by a cloudy full moon. The speed it all flew by reminded her a good deal of night flying; she wished her marefriends could join in that.

“Thank you, Silver Mistress, for this gift,” the batpony whispered, voice filled with awe as she smiled, “And for those gifts yet to come.”

“Mmm, there’s my pretty-voiced mare.”

Nightsong barely had time to blush before Vinyl’s hooves circled her barrel and tugged her back. For a small pony, she was surprisingly strong! And that comforted Nightsong in a way. She turned to shyly lean into Vinyl’s exposed fluff, doing her best not to wrinkle her own dress.

Rarity had truly outdone herself with the Rookery-style dress, with a few modern modifications, thankfully- Nightsong was happy to not have the tall lace collar to deal with. The purple and blue matched her fur well, and the silk shimmered in the light. Rarity had even helped work a few gems into her mane! ...Nightsong was not sure how Rarity made a profit.

The craftspony slid a hooficured softened hoof down Vinyl’s white tuxedo, blushing hotly. Vinyl’s mane was still somewhat wild, but partially brushed and slicked back- but in return for the taming, a trio of silver rings gleamed along each ear. Nightsong had not realized quite how much she liked the androgynous look, till now.

“You look incredible, Nighty,” Vinyl whispered in her sensitive ear, the hot breath sending pleased shivers down her body, “Octi is gonna love it.”

Tonight was one of Octavia and her Symphony’s larger showings in Canterlot- from what Rarity had said, the elite of Canterlot society would be there. Octavia had taken a train the night before to prepare; the house without her was too quiet for Nightsong’s tastes. Over the last week, she had grown used to Octavia’s nightly calm practices with her cello. ...Nightsong’s cello. The batpony only realized she was trembling when Vinyl hugged her closer, muzzle burying against her ear base.

“Talk to me, filly.”

Ah crap.

“I-I don’t know a thing about Canterlot society and culture,” she replied sheepishly, ears splaying back on Vinyl’s snoot, “I only ever studied Rookery high culture for stuff like this; I have no clue if that will be similar. ...I don’t want to embarrass Octavia.”

Vinyl puffed up against, trembling just long enough for Nightsong to begin panicking… before bursting into peals of belly-shaking laughter. She squeezed the young, blushing batpony close, tilting her head up with a gentle hoof. Magic lifted Vinyl’s shades so she could regard Nightsong with twinkling crimson eyes.

“Neither did I, Nighty. Octavia is a rock- there is nothing you could do here that I haven’t done before. Trust me, she’s going to be focused on impressing you, more than anypony else in that crowd tonight.”

Nightsong must have looked as thunderstruck as she felt, as Vinyl giggled again, eyes smoldering as they looked her over.

“And we have plans, filly,” she murmured hotly, “Just you wait.”

Nightsong shivered again, and physically forced her tail to keep from flagging. It did not help that she was starting estrus. Vinyl smelled of cologne and body wash- cinnamon musk that she just wanted to bathe in and-

No, calm down!

Vinyl’s tongue slithered along the fluff of Nightsong’s ear, and she shuddered softly, a little moan bubbling out while a back hoof kicked lightly.

“Mmm, that’s it… just relax, little filly, I’ve gotcha-”

“A-HEM!”

Nightsong attempted to jolt and leap across the cabin, hoping to hide under a chair or, perhaps for the best, allow the ground to swallow her whole, but she could not move an inch. Vinyl’s magic was wrapped around her barrel and gently stroking Nightsong’s ears, while she grinned at the flabbergasted train attendant.

“The train will arrive at Canterlot Station momentarily,” he told them, ears splayed back, “And I will remind you that there are foals aboard…”

“Nah, I’m full,” Vinyl quipped in an instant, grinning, “Thanks though.”

Nightsong leaned back the moment she was released, blushing deeply as the attendant trotted off with a grunt. This… was going to be an interesting night.

Vinyl’s eyebrow was lifted sky high as she peered down at her smaller marefriend, head slightly tilted off to one side. They still had several hours till the concert, and Nightsong had been eagerly leading Vinyl Scratch along the Canterlotian streets to the market district. ...mostly using directions from a bemused Vinyl. They had ended up in front of a rather high class smoke shop, the Brazen Humidor; the young batpony was staring at the door nervously, then peeked back at Vinyl.

“Night… you don’t have to get Octi anything,” Vinyl told her gently, “She’s just gonna be happy to have you there.”

Nightsong frowned slightly in turn and gave a quick nod, “I know. B-but this is big for her! Not everypony can play in Canterlot. It’s right that I should get her something.”

Even if it ate at her budget. Letting out a breath, the thestral slowly moved to step into the building, holding the door for Vinyl with a wingclaw; the unicorn’s expression did not change overmuch as she followed her inside- up until she met the eye of the clerk. All concern flipped to a good-natured grin and nodding in an eyeblink; Nightsong needed to learn how to do that. Biting her lip, she turned to appraise the inside.

The shop was small, with a central table laden with merchandise, as was all the walls; a doorway by the counter led into another room, a little sign explaining that it was for unpackaged tobacco. The clerk, who Vinyl explained was a licensed and experienced tobacconist, was an unicorn in his mid-forties, his fur the same color as the ripe plant, and his mane mostly hidden in a broad brimmed hat. He was grinning back at Vinyl, though curiously eying Nightsong.

‘Come on Nighty, do this for Octavia.’

“H-hi sir!” she squeaked out before Vinyl could speak, “I uh, I’m Nightsong. Looking for a gift for my… my marefriend.”

His eyebrows raised slightly, but he smiled in response, “Girl’s got good taste. Cigars or ‘rettes?”

“C-cigars, sir. Something ah, special. There’s a show tonight she’s doing, and-”

He grunted and nodded thoughtfully, stepping down and nodding towards the back wall. It was lined with small wooden boxes, most with glass lids to see the contents within. Nightsong’s ears laid back slightly. It was almost overwhelming, the variety. The clerk nodded down at a few.

“She have a favored brand that you’re aware of? Size?”

“I don’t know brand, but I think size was usually about seven by forty to fifty?”

‘Thank you, Vinyl.’

The unicorn was lightly leaning against the counter, floating over a few packs of cigarettes, whose logo Nightsong could not quite see from her angle. Her expression was neutral, but she could feel her gaze from under the glasses. The clerk coughed quietly.

“Well miss, I’ve got a few good Churchills; though if price is an issue, I have a whole stack of-”

“N-no, that’s perfectly fine!” She interrupted, smiling to stifle any offense, “Price isn’t an object. And I’d like to get her a travel case. Maybe something faux-leather, that’ll go with a travel saddle…”

The Canterlot Opera Hall was… amazing. An old Lunarian-style building built in the time before the Rebellion, with its high rounded ceiling and central marble pillars. As they the humming din of the hall, Nightsong peered up into the darkness of the rafters, her batpony eyes piercing the gloom easily- and her ears perked happily at the distant pastel flutters of others of her kind. Batponies tended to be hired out of Bands or the odd Rookery for work like that- technical or cleaning jobs in dark areas, sometties as security for the larger males of the tribe. It was nice to see them here.

As Nightsong had imagined, the crowd was mostly unicorns: merchants in high end suits and dresses; knights in their military garb; minor and major nobles in outfits befitting their high status. Surprisingly, she did spy some pegasi- military for the most part though she couldn’t place the uniform, and a few Earth Pony baronets, most of those situated near the back. She and Vinyl had been seated to a seemingly usual spot in the front balcony, in the front row, directly in line with the stage.

“Ladies, welcome!”

Nightsong turned and bowed instinctively, giving a curious look to the speaker. He was an older unicorn, silver-blue maned and white coated, with a distinctive mustache- behind him stood another white coated mare, pink-maned and absolutely stunning. She was sure she had seen the mare before though…

“Good to see you again, Fancy Pants,” Vinyl answered cheerfully, giving his hoof a quick pump, “Octi will be hyped you made it.”

“You know that we’d never miss her symphony if we’re in town,” he replied with a chuckle, turning to grin at a thunderstruck Nightsong, “Ah, I think we’ve been recognized, Fleur.”

“F-fleur-de-lys and Fancy Pants, t-the famous philanthropists?” she squeaked out, violet eyes wide, “Y-you fund the Herd Movement protests!”

“Among others,” Fleur replied with a soft chuckle, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. Vinyl mentioned you in her last letter.”

“They’re investors in my club,” Vinyl explained at Nightsong’s startled look, winking at her marefriend, “I’ll explain later. Octi’s getting on stage.”

If anything could turn her attention, it was certainly that. Through the darkness, as they had yet to turn on the stage lights, Nightsong could see Octavia carefully setting her cello up while she settled back into the chest. Her symphony partners were a mix of unicorns and earth ponies- made sense really, and pleased Nightsong to no small degree. Though something was… off. The cello there seemed a little dark, even for her eyes.

“What’s…”

And the lights went up, as the din of chatter quickly ceased. Nightsong’s hooves flew to her muzzle, eyes pinpricks. There, held in the steady hoof of her marefriend, was Nightsong’s cello. The silver-white of the script stood out like a beacon on the matte black surface, and the steel wire glinted in the light. Octavia herself was in a matching black dress with silver line work forming various symbols- possibly Harmonian symbology Nightsong was not familiar with. It was incredible.

The music began. The deep tones of the cello washed over the crowd as Octavia began a slow solo to begin the piece. Nightsong’s ears had fully turned to take in the music, any pain from the volume in the hall inconsequential. She would endure anything to hear this music. Poetry in sound only, reverberating through an architectural wonder meant for only this.

The batpony found herself swaying with the tune without meaning to; Vinyl’s hoof found her’s and squeezed, the unicorn swaying with her and beaming proudly up at Octavia; goosebumps ran over them both as the rest of the choir joined in, tingling Nightsong’s memory. They were playing a rendition of a Celestian hymn; a famous one, often shown and played at large public events and ceremonies. Despite everything, Nightsong had to admit that they had great music- powerful, uplifting.

As the first stage began to ebb, humming in the hall’s acoustics, Octavia’s stance and grip on her bow shifted, grinning to herself- and perhaps to a select few in the audience- as she picked up the tempo, the brass section rising in volume to meet it. Vinyl’s hoof squeezed again, and Night peeked at her, surprised at the wide mirthful grin- and then it hit her.

Passing through a small pegasi ground-town during the height of the spring, she had seen a festival dedicated to the ideals of Eros. It had been very festive, with quite a bit of dancing. And the music… Nightsong grinned slowly, watching Octavia’s hoof glide over the neck of the cello, (her cello!), keeping perfect pace with the bow. Her eyes were half-closed, but the batpony could feel that gaze focused on the pair of them. The goosebumps redoubled.

Vinyl’s gentle grip pulled Nightsong back into her seat- she had been leaning forward without realizing- and nosed at her perked and trembling ear. She could feel little tears pricking in the corners of her eyes, and frantically scrubbed with her foreleg. This was beautiful… The Erosian themes were moving on; the fast paced and eager tune lengthening, softening to that of old-school Harmonian hymn- pre-schism, unless Nightsong missed her guess. Music she had heard in passing more than a few times, passing through Fillydelphia, which had a sizable old school Harmonian population. The crowd around them was quiet, enraptured by the skill of one of the most highly acclaimed symphonies in Equestria.

Their eyes met across the darkened room. Nightsong’s eyes blurred as emotions choked her, and she smiled shakily, praying that Octavia might see her. Her wings lifted along with her ears, and she began to rise a bit in her seat- before those familiar legs gently drew her back down, Vinyl’s snout gently nosing to her cheek.

“Shh. Deep breaths. This is for you.”

And the thestral nestled back against her marefriend, lost in the melody as the music played on, filling the ancient theater with life once more.

Damn, it has been too long!