Spare Some Change?

by Nadir

First published 31st of July, 2018

A down on her luck Vinyl gets help from unexpected sources.

Octavia's lived the high life for years. Practice after practice paid off and she's risen through the ranks. Now, she works for the Royal Orchestra itself, toiling every day to produce perfection. Untouchable, practiced, impeccable...lonely.

Vinyl couldn't be any lower. Out of home, out of work, and nowhere to go but to a cold grave. Cast out and left to fend for herself, Vinyl has nothing, not even a friend to call her own.

The two cross paths.

A love story that many have known, and yet different. Both come in broken, beaten down people, their only hope each other.

A Chance Meeting

“Spare some change?”

The clinking of a cup accompanied the phrase, the sound of sparse coins jingling inside of it.

“Spare some change for the needy?” The mare repeated again, voice droning, exhausted.

The winter chill bit at any exposed flesh, and with the ragged clothes the homeless mare wore, Octavia couldn’t help but have sympathy nip at her in the same way the cold did. That, and there was absolutely something strikingly entrancing about those red eyes she saw damned near every morning.

Octavia stopped in front of the mare, thick, furred coat bundled up around herself, cello case across her flank and a small handbag on the opposite. Octavia, modestly enough, looked quite radiant in the morning air. Winter had come particularly early that year, and it showed.

The trees showed it, the air felt it, and the little mare bundled against the ground displayed the sight of it all the more prominently. Even through the thick swathes of soiled cloth and clearly mismatched blankets, Octavia could tell the girl was a waifish thing. Small, very likely young, not the sort that should be sitting on the side of the street begging. Something that definitely brought a frown to Octavia’s cultured face. She'd seen this shape before, seen them quite a few times. They were always here, always begging for anything and everything. Some days, Octavia even went as far as to offer her lunch, or the few bits that she had on her. Other times, Octavia walked past like so many other in the crowds.

By now, the mare had realized Octavia’s staring, leveling piercing red eyes up towards Octavia. “Spare change?” she asked, the voice sounding hopeful. The high pitched nature of it reaffirmed Octavia’s initial confirmation: young. Definitely young.

Octavia sighed and shook her head. “I’m so sorry, dear. I’m afraid that I don’t have any bits on me, though I must admit I've seen you quite a bit. What’s your name?” she asked daring to take a step forward.

The other mare scooted back, pressing against the wall, as if Octavia would hurt her. That sparked another thought within the cultured mare’s head: abuse. Or fear, one of the two. Something had happened here. Nopony would land on the streets this young, this scared without something spurring it.

Homeless ponies in Canterlot didn't stay homeless for long. Some shelter took them in, some family care for them. That, or they'd find a job of their own. To consistently see this one down on her luck with no change.... well now, that was different, wasn't it?

At least the other mare had enough within her to answer the question. “Lu- Vinyl. Vinyl Scratch,” she answered back. Scratchy, raspy, definitely a lie. But one that Octavia would choose to believe for now.

“It’s very pleasant to meet you, Miss Scratch. My name is Octavia Philharmonica, perhaps you’ve heard of me?” she asked, unable to help the pride swelling in her chest. But she waved a hoof, as if to dismiss the thought. “Or perhaps not." Octavia couldn't help but laugh at herself a little. Not everypony knew her, of course. She rapidly changed the subject: "It’s cold outside, isn’t it?” she asked, doing her best to sound caring, confident. Octavia wanted to get to the bottom of this mystery, discern why Vinyl had stayed on this corner for so long.

“It’s not that bad.” Vinyl answered, though the way she directed her eyes downwards made Octavia suspect the girl lied. “You get used to it and all. Besides, a few ponies have given me some more clothes,” she added, shifting where she sat enough to show off one of the multiple jackets draped around her frame. "You know how generous everypony here is. I get well fed at least," Vinyl said, slowly, deliberately. Octavia imagined the other mare chose her words carefully.

“Oh, yes, of course,” Octavia replied. She inspected the form before her a little more carefully, trying to judge if they were stolen. She’d grown so used to seeing fine thread and needlework that even she could tell that the ones Vinyl wore were worn down, used and abused. “How exactly did you end up out here anyways, Miss Scratch?”

Vinyl leaned against the side of the building a little more, though a flash of cyan magic brought her cup of change back against her. A paranoid look affixed Octavia in place for a second before relaxing once more. “You know how it is. Ran out of money. Didn’t have anywhere else to stay. Not really good at anything,” she answered.

A lie. Such a pure and simple lie. Vinyl’s filthy, white ear had flicked. She’d looked away. Her body had been shifting back and forth, betraying her discomfort. High society taught ponies all of these cues, they’d taught Octavia how to behave and how to notice when others manipulated. And Vinyl lied. The homeless in Equestria didn't lie, it was such a surefire way of losing your chance, why would you? Octavia's curiosity only bit at her harder.

“I see,” Octavia answered instead. A gamble. She could spend some time on a gamble, couldn’t she? It was the weekend, she had some time, she had the space, and she could certainly use the company. What other plans did she have? Spend another several hours moping about the estate? Perhaps practicing her instrument for the millionth time? Such was the life of a recluse. Which begged a different question instead: Why not?

“Well, Miss Scratch, I can’t offer you any money, but I can perhaps offer you something better?” Octavia paused for dramatic effect, watching the hesitant, fearful looking mare examine her. Vinyl didn’t believe her. That was good. “How would you like to come to my home for breakfast? I’ll feed you and ensure you have better clothes to come back with. Think of it as a way for you to get something good in you,” she offered. Octavia’s muzzle split into a kind grin.

It was all about sincerity. Octavia sincerely wanted to help Vinyl, something just struck out as so different. A pony couldn't stay on the streets so long, and no type of scam would leave one homeless for so long. She had to do something, even if it would only benefit her for today. Apparently, Vinyl didn’t quite believe her either, something that hardly bothered Octavia. So many urban legends concerned this very subject.

Apparently, desperation won through with a loud growl of hunger. The smaller mare sized Octavia up with a look, one that seemed assured of her chances. She nodded her head, hooves and magic both scrambling to stuff an old, threadbare pack full with her things. “Okay. Just for breakfast, right?” she asked, still sounding suspicious. Up the dirty white mare stood, a little unsure on her hooves, a little back and forth.

Success, such sweet success. This poor thing needed love, and perhaps Octavia could be the one to give it to her. She smiled a little wider, showing her happiness. “Of course. Just for breakfast. Perhaps we could get you a shower and one of my coats as well,” she suggested. That may have been a bit much, but she'd already said it and there would be no taking it back now. Octavia turned on her hooves, preparing to lead the dumbstruck Vinyl Scratch. “Come along. Let's get out of this cold,” she went on.

To Octavia’s happiness, Vinyl did follow her. A little more slowly, a little more hesitant, but still coming. She kept peeking over her shoulder, as if she expected somepony to be following them, but at least she came. Octavia really didn’t know how she managed to carry that pack. Briefly, she couldn't help but wonder how long it had been since Octavia had had another pony over. Servants didn't count, so... months, perhaps? Maybe even a full year. Was it pathetic or altruistic to take a homeless pony home for company?

“So how long have you been doing this?” Octavia asked, wanting to keep the conversation continuing. “Have you been safe? I imagine that living on the streets isn’t exactly the most pleasant of livings,” she noted. She could only imagine how absolutely chilled to the bone Vinyl felt. Octavia, even in her warm, furred coat couldn’t help but shiver occasionally. Vinyl only had a patchwork mess.

“Oh. You know, a few months,” Vinyl answered, noncommittal and looking over her shoulder again. “Yea, it kinda sucks. You really do get used to it, though. And Canterlot is a nice city for it. There’s a lot of rich mares who have a lot of sympathy, though some of them are kind of dumb,” Vinyl went on, the most she’d said since the start.

Vinyl looked over her shoulder again, a frown setting into her muzzle. "Hey, look, you aren't like... going to murder me or anything? I mean, everypony has heard about stuff like that. You don't really seem like the type, but just so you know I can really handle myself in a fight!" She finished, nodding her head, apparently quite determined of herself.

A clear peal of laughter erupted from Octavia's throat, the girl shaking her head slowly. "Of course not. I was simply thinking we could warm you up and get a good meal in your belly. Nothing more, nothing less. Are you worried that I would?" she asked, shooting an almost teasing glance over her shoulder.

A nod answered her instead. Octavia’s heart darkened in her chest. She could only imagine what that felt like. Before she had a chance to pry more, Vinyl spoke instead.

“Hey, is that a cello case, by the way? I noticed it when you were walking by. Can you play it?” Vinyl asked. She hurried up a bit more, getting even with Octavia’s side and peering down at the case.

Pleasant surprise bolstered Octavia, strengthening the decision that she’d already made. “Yes, it’s a cello, and yes, I can play it. I’ve been practicing it my entire life, though I do it the Earth pony way,” she explained. Octavia ensured that she kept her eyes on the other mare. “I’m part of the symphony up in the castle, one of the few that Princess Celestia has on retainer.”

Vinyl arched an eyebrow at that. “Really? Huh. That’s pretty neat. I used to be able to play. Well, I could play the piano mostly, but…” Vinyl tipped her head back, the front of one of her hoodies pulling back to show her forehead. Instead of a normal unicorn horn, hers had been mangled, destroyed, broken into bits. Only a jagged, cracked stump remained, one still glowed an almost ethereal blue, but it glowed rather than sparked. “Can’t really do it without that, you know?” Vinyl went on, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary.

Even Octavia could tell it bothered her. That flash of hurt was obvious, even if Vinyl did go right back down to looking at the ground afterwards. And what unicorn could handle that? What unicorn could handle losing their horn? “How did that happen, dear? I’m so sorry. It looks painful,” she soothed, trying to offer some of her own sympathy. She pressed her side against Vinyl’s, and though the smaller mare flinched, she eventually pressed back.

“It’s no biggie.” Another lie. One all the more obvious. “Accidents happen. Tripped and fell and all that and wow is this where you live?”

They had indeed stepped onto the walkway leading to Octavia’s house. In Canterlot, merely having a walkway meant having a great deal of wealth. Having a walkway with a fully furnished garden leading up to an old style manor… Well, that was an even more obvious display.

Octavia blushed faintly, trying to play it off as they walked up the little path way. “It is, yes. The Royal Orchestra pays well. Shall we?” she asked. Octavia reached to open the door for her guest, ushering inwards and into a new life.

A Quick Breakfast

Octavia’s house, beyond all else, was silent. While it was quite well decorated, not a sound permeated through the halls. An inherited house for a family of sixteen left to a single mare meant that little of the rooms actually saw use. The storied wealth of her family showed, and while some small part of her worried that Vinyl would steal something the other part… well, it didn’t care. What was another jewel when she had thousands?

Currently, the two had quite a bit of distance between them. Octavia cooked a breakfast as promised - eggs, pancakes, waffles, and all manners of fruit. It'd been quite a while since she’d actually bothered to make anything real. Most of the time, it would be something quick for herself after work right before she passed out in bed. A shameful waste of such a bright and open kitchen, all the well stocked food going to waste on her. How many times must she tell the servants to bring less?

Vinyl, on the other hoof, took her own sweet time. Naturally, Octavia hadn’t taken the girl to her own personal bathroom, but she had gotten her set up in one of the many guest ones. A warm shower, some soft towels, a new coat, everything that she’d promised. Besides, Octavia couldn’t blame her for taking longer than Octavia’s usual showers. Anything longer than a spare minute or so would be too much for the rising orchestral star and with how long it seemed that Vinyl had gone without a shower, she clearly needed it.

Unfortunately, it left Octavia to brood, to think. Why exactly had she done this? Sympathy, sure. Vinyl definitely could garner some sympathy. Those eyes of hers, that tiny frame, that broken horn bespoke of a mare that needed attention and her own care. Octavia couldn’t profess to give all of those. She couldn’t fix the constant fear, nor the broken horn, but the malnutrition? Maybe she could help with that a bit.

Or perhaps Octavia lied to herself. This wasn’t altruism, Octavia didn’t have that kind of certainty in her heart. Vinyl actually talked to her like a person. Vinyl didn’t know who she was. Octavia had long since grown tired of ponies knowing her name, thinking they knew her as a pony. She’d grown tired of it for way too long. Vinyl did none of that, she only saw her as the nice pony to give her something.

Or so Octavia hoped. The constant silence that plagued her for so long broke. If she listened especially intently, she could just very barely hear the sound of a shower running, the water flowing from the tap. Another pony in the house. It’d been so long since she’d had another pony in the house that didn’t exist simply to serve her. How long had that been? A year? Maybe two? The orchestra devoured her time like a hungry monster, leaving her none of her own. Her coworkers were bloodthirsty, cutthroat. But that was the business - one had to be in order to advice and move on. Octavia didn’t see it the same way, but one pony alone couldn’t enact an entire culture change.

In the meantime, however, she could focus on that shower sound. Not alone, for the first time in so long. It brought a smile to her muzzle, a real one, not the same one she plastered on for so long. The more she thought about it, the more pathetic it seemed. She was so overjoyed about a homeless pony using her shower. What a silly notion, one that a few years ago would seem alien.

The shower stopped, leaving Octavia among her silence again. She closed her eyes, breathing in the scent of the prepared breakfast. She’d left it out as a spread, two place settings the only parts of the long, oaken table in use. Food covered the middle, whatever Vinyl and herself wanted to choose from.

Octavia didn’t have to wait long in her spot. The sound of hooves against hardwood rang out all the closer, growing ever near until they stopped. Octavia turned, catching sight of a rather uncomfortable looking Vinyl. Her mane, still wet, clung to her head and neck, the soft blue quite complementary to her eyes. One of Octavia’s fluffy, pink bathrobes covered the rest of her, though Octavia could see the different already - the little bit of fluff that showed on Vinyl’s chest was practically alabaster now, in sharp contrast to the ugly, muddled gray it’d been before.

The smaller mare tried to smile, a crooked, perpetually teasing thing that showed just a bit too many teeth. “Yo,” she started, voice cracking a bit from the word. “So, uh, you’ve got a nice shower. Really warm water and all,” she began.

Octavia couldn’t help but feel amusement well up in her chest. Any remaining doubts for her cause evaporated under those words. Vinyl was no smooth operator, no career criminal. Just a scared, homeless filly. That, Octavia could deal with.

She smiled a little wider and gestured towards the seat across from herself. “It’s a nice shower. My parents were quite big on refurbishment before their passing. Please, take a seat and help yourself,” she offered.

As if Vinyl had been wound like a bow ready to launch. The second Octavia said those words, Vinyl practically exploded around the edge of the table, scurrying towards the seat and pulling herself into it. Her magic, weak and sparking that it was, heaped great portions of essentially everything onto her plate. In sharp contrast, Octavia took a more methodical approach, getting little bit of her favorite things rather than everything. A small pancake, a few strawberries, so very little compared to the great heap.

Silverware clinked, but Vinyl wouldn’t let the silence reign for long. Even with a big bite of food smacking away in her jaws, she started to speak again. “So!” she began, swallowing hard. “What happened to your parents anyways? This their place?” she asked. She didn’t even give Octavia enough time to answer it before shoveling more another bite in her muzzle. Octavia would’ve sworn it was half a pancake in one bite.

A small napkin dabbed at Octavia’s muzzle. She didn’t truly have anything on there, but it was good manners, clean and refined. “They passed five years ago, unfortunately. Since then, the house has essentially been mine, as there are no other claimants to it. My family goes back for many generations,” she explained. A curious feeling passed through Octavia, a desire to know more. “And yours? You aren’t home. You aren’t living with them. What happened?”

Vinyl actually stopped eating. The fork that'd started to be magically raised up to her mouth stopped, lowering to rest back down instead. “We aren’t on good terms,” Vinyl answered. The light that had sparked in her eyes from the shower, the nice food, died. Puffing out in a single snap. “There really isn’t much to it. We had some disagreements, so I left. Just couldn’t stand being around them, I guess.” Vinyl finished, shrugging. She shoved the fork up, silencing herself.

Octavia expected that. Either dead or a gulf of hatred. Vinyl didn’t seem very forthcoming with the reason why, which Octavia could hardly blame her for. Estranged parents rather than dead ones were something at least.

“Oh, sure, sure,” Octavia soothed. She let the silence hold for a few seconds, the both of them enjoying their food. Octavia, despite the opulence and the business, actually could cook quite well. “So, dear, how old are you anyways?” she asked.

“Easy one,” Vinyl smacked, “Nineteen. How about you? You some old predator mare looking for a young nubile filly?” Vinyl asked, waggling her eyebrows.

That earned a giggle from Octavia. Even her laugh had been trained to be cultured, restrained, attractive rather than showing any pure joy. It was something that Octavia had an awareness of but couldn’t help.

“Twenty five,” she answered, cheeks slightly flushed. “And no. I am scarcely some predator,” she excused, waving a hoof in the air with dismissal. What a foolish thought. A cleaned up Vinyl certainly had her attractive qualities, but a homeless filly didn’t exactly have a lot to offer.

Clearly, the answer didn’t satisfy Vinyl. She raised an eyebrow instead, leaning a bit closer across the table, showing off those brilliant ruby eyes. “Oh really? Why did you want me to come over to your house then? Wear your clothes? Use your shower?” she pressed, all good questions, all questions that Octavia either couldn’t or wouldn’t answer.

The refined mare shuffled in her chair, moving back and forth to get comfortable. She straightened her little bowtie and breathed in a calming breath. “Because I was curious,” she finally answered. The truth, but not the whole truth. “You’re young and nearly any homeless pony moves around. Those that don’t find a place to stay within a few months are even more rare. Why, I’ve heard of ponies simply being taken in by strangers who could. But you haven’t yet, and you haven’t moved from your same corner or gotten a job. So why haven’t you done any of that? I even remember feeding you before. I’ve given you bits and food, even taken you to a diner and paid for what you wanted, though I didn’t have the time to stay and talk. Is there something else going on?” Octavia countered. Well, perhaps it wasn’t a counter. Still, Octavia couldn’t help but feel a little defensive. She supposed her attitude thus far had been strange.

Vinyl frowned. She frowned deep, like she had back on that cold street corner. “Long story, Octy- do you mind if I call you Octy?” Vinyl wouldn’t give her a chance to respond before pressing on, “basically, can’t get a job. Not many ponies really like to look at the shattered horn, you know. Got some other stuff going on, but it is what it is, right?” she asked, offering that half cocked smile again.

It didn’t reach those eyes of hers. It didn’t reach the rest of her face. That wasn’t everything. “What’s the other stuff? I understand living like that must be difficult. I can’t imagine actually choosing it,” Octavia pressed. She matched Vinyl’s look with one of her own. At this point, Vinyl almost felt like a puzzle that Octavia needed to figure out, some way to pick it apart. Something was desperately wrong here.

Vinyl rubbed at one of her shoulders unsteadily, glancing off to the right. “Hey, Octy, this has been great and all, but I really have to go,” the mare excused herself. She stood from the chair, working off the bath robe, tossing it onto the chair. “I’ve got… you know, stuff to do. Got a place to be,” Vinyl went on. Her tone was easy, relaxed, but such they were such obvious lies.

Octavia thought of anything to say to make her stay. Something about the food? No. Somehow, Vinyl had managed to finish damned near all of her plate. Octavia frowned, unable to help herself. She wanted to know more, but even more so, didn’t want to overstep her bounds.

“Oh, yes, of course, Miss Scratch,” she soothed. “Please, allow me to help you get your things-”

Vinyl cut her off. “Oh, thanks, but I got it, Octy. Don’t you worry, I’ve got everything together in the lobby. Gotta go, bye!” Vinyl yipped out. She disappeared behind the door before Octavia could say anything else.

Octavia could hear the retreating footsteps. She could hear Vinyl hurrying towards the exit. She closed her eyes and steepled her hooves together, resting them against her forehead. The steps got quieter and quieter, getting ever closer to the outside. She could hear the front door, a big, wooden thing, open, then close again.

Only then did she let out a long breath. Darned curiosity. Too far and too fast. The denial only made her mind hunger all the more. The little white filly would be the death of her at this rate. She simply had to know.

A Chance to Move On

Vinyl didn’t show up to her normal spot. Octavia checked, but Vinyl didn’t show. Every day, she took the same route, and every day, she’d hear the same old voice asking for change. To have the routine shattered… Well, she hardly expected it, to say the least. When monotony interrupted itself, Octavia had a difficult time focusing on anything but what broke it.

And most of all, it worried her. Had she really been that offensive? She’d prodded for answers, sure, but it wasn’t as if she tried to force the girl to be forthcoming! She hadn’t pushed, she’d simply asked! Not only that, but she’d been absolutely as nice as she could have been. She fed her, let her shower, and now she’d just been abandoned? It felt wrong. Something had to be up.

Honestly, why did a homeless filly of all things have to be such a mystery? Octavia just wanted to do something good for somepony for once, and it backfired on her. What a surprise! Who knew that getting ghosted by a begger would upset her so much?

It would be fair to say that Miss Scratch dominated her mind over the next few days. It wouldn’t be a stretch to accuse Octavia of having a mild obsession. She’d always been one for mystery novels, and this felt like a real life mystery she could actually solve. It didn’t help that she genuinely liked the girl. Or perhaps pitied would be a better word. So young, so broken, so… fragile?

No. That didn’t feel right. Vinyl wasn’t fragile. She’d lived on the streets for so long she had to be at least a little self-sufficient. Vulnerable might be the better word for it. Poke at the wrong spots and watch it crumble down. Perhaps that’d been what Octavia had done. Asked the wrong questions, looked into the wrong places. Vinyl was scared, paranoid possibly, she’d understand a bad reaction.

Admittedly, it had impacted her playing. One could scarcely focus so much on Chopin’s Fifth when one’s eyes were locked on a pair of ruby red eyes instead. Practice became difficult, and only Friday served as her bastion. The last day of practice before her real weekend, a chance to detox and destress, a chance to get a certain filly out of her head. Stupid as it was, she needed it.

Not that her coworkers really wanted to let her forget it. Octavia found herself backstage, working at packing her things away - certainly a bit of a struggle with hooves rather than a horn. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught one of her fellow symphony members approaching. High Society. Or as Octavia liked to call her, Royal Bitch.

Regardless, she put on that same, practiced smile she’d worked on so many times. “Good evening, Miss Society. You played wonderfully today,” she offered. Truthfully, Octavia thought High Society played the cello like a monkey played a bucket, but she couldn’t simply say that.

And just the same, High Society couldn’t call out her distraction in such plain words. “Oh, thank you dear. At this rate, it’s looking like I may just take your lead cello seat,” she teased.

Octavia could translate that pretty easily. What High Society had said was ‘take your lead cello seat’. However, what’d she’d meant was ‘I’d rip your throat out to take your spot, you stubborn bitch’. Oh, the intricacies of conversation, minefields and traps abounded.

And so, Octavia responded with a ladylike giggle, just long enough to be acceptable. “I’d worry about getting a bit too far of yourself,” she shot back, her tone still light, teasing like they were the best of friends. “I’m sure that you could perhaps get a lead cello spot elsewhere. Maybe… the Fillydelphia Harmonic?”

That one stung, Octavia could tell. High Society’s face reddened nearly enough to match the garish shade of her dress. Perhaps someday somepony would tell her that that many diamonds did not go with such a low cut. But that would not be Octavia, and that day would not be today.

“Oh you two timing bi-” High Society seethed, face screwing up in an ugly grimace. To her eternal credit, she did manage to stop herself from losing control completely. All the while, Octavia wore the same old plastered smile. She was good at this, she had to admit. High Society took a visible moment to calm herself before continuing, though anypony who had at the least a modicum of experience with culture would know better. She showed too many teeth with her smile, and by Celestia, did her eyelid twitch?

“You know I wouldn’t resign myself to such a second rate symphony, Octavia!” she finally answered, letting out a laugh that rang out just a bit too loud. “Oh no, this one’s perfect for me, though… Lately, it seems like it hasn’t been perfect for you. Has something been bothering you, dear?” High Society asked, leaning in close like a shark that’d smelled blood.

Octavia’s hooves rested in her lap, her smile waning into pursed lips instead. Others had noticed, only a fool wouldn’t suspect that. Naturally, this one would too. “I have had something on my mind lately, though I don’t particularly believe it’s a matter of the workplace. I assure you, you have nothing to worry about. I’m quite sure that my chair is quite safe and that these problems are temporary at the worst,” she rebutted, though she wasn’t sure if she believed them.

Maybe the weekend would be spent finding a certain filly rather than forgetting about her. That would help her mind better than anything.

Fortunately, Octavia would be rescued by the mind-numbing conversation by a pony she much preferred. Melodious Note could silence a room simply by walking in, and with the conductor of their symphony walking between the two of them, both ladies of the orchestra fell silent instantly, deferring their attention to their veritable boss instead. Each and every bit of Melodious spoke to her dedication - her simple dress, quick brushed mane, serious, intense expression, all of it. To see her coming in a pony’s direction had been known to cause incidents. Octavia remembered vividly of their old pianist trying to hide quite literally inside of the piano. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work out.

“Ladies!” she called, a scrunched up expression belying her frustration. “Quit your whining this instant. High Society, out. I must speak with Miss Philharmonic alone,” she demanded. Melodious looked between the two of them with a look that could curdle milk, earning a triumpant smile from High Society and a falling heart from Octavia. Things didn’t bode well.

“Of course. Have a nice day, Miss Philharmonic, Miss Note,” High Society excused herself. She practically ran, though Octavia could easily imagine her stopping outside the door to listen in.

But that would be a worry for later. Octavia turned her attention to her boss, smiling neutrally and pleasantly. “Did you need to talk to me, Miss Note?” she asked. Her words came clipped - no longer so easily kept calm, forced to it instead.

“You’ve been off. You’ve been wrong. You missed a note seven times today, Octavia. One more and you could have lived up to your namesake.” The words came out matter of factly. They weren’t accusatory, they were factual. If Melodious said it, it was true and there would be no argument. “You are my lead cello. You are the star of our next show. I cannot have you faltering, do you understand me?” she asked.

Ah, there was that look again. The one that made Octavia swallow, sweat suddenly breaking out across her coat. She nodded her head demurely, closing her eyes so she wouldn’t have to see it. “I understand perfectly, Miss Note,” she promised. And she did, truly. “After this weekend, there won’t be any issues with my play, I assure you. I’m aware that I made mistakes today-” owning it always helped, “-and it will not happen again. I promise you that,” she swore. Octavia looked back up again, letting Melodious see her eyes, see the determination. She could be professional. Even if she still wanted to think about Vinyl. Poor girl.

“Good. See to it.”

Octavia wasn’t even allowed a moment to respond before off Miss Note went. No surprise. She’d said what was needed and that was that. Octavia let out a small sigh and shook her head. No, she couldn’t keep doing this. Practiced hooves packed away the rest of her kit, working without needing to think about it.

Mentally, she packed away the other mare. She put Vinyl into a little box and pushed her away, helped her into a small corner in the back of her head. Vinyl had made the conscious decision to stay away from her, and Octavia wouldn’t impose her will on the unwilling. A sad sentiment, but a mystery that Octavia knew she’d have to leave unsolved. Curiosity still nipped at her in the back of her head, so many questions, so little time.

But no meant no. And so, Octavia resolved to move forward, to move on from whatever obsession she’d allowed herself to have. She’d been foolish to think that she could fix herself by fixing another. Back to the loneliness, the comforting silence she’d known for so long. That would be acceptable. A sad ending, one she didn’t want, but one she had to accept.

Octavia swallowed back tears, keeping her expression pristine, her mask impeccable. She stood, cello next to her and worked on the familiar route home. On a whim, she took a side street, walking past the normal spot Vinyl would sit. She already knew she wouldn’t be there, but somehow seeing it only made her think about it more. Perhaps this would become her new route home. She certainly could use a little more exercise at the least.

It took her a scant fifteen minutes to arrive once more at her manor. It took even less time for her to pack away her things, to settle in for the night. The dress came off, replaced with, admittedly a bit embarrassing, pajamas. The door closed and locked, dinner prepared. The food that should have tasted so good felt hollow instead. A meal shared with another fulfilled her so much more.

With a quiet scoff, Octavia realized how much she overreacted. She’d known her for what, a few hours at most? She hadn’t even known anything of note, just that Vinyl needed her assistance and she could render it. Hardly the basis for a relationship.

“Get it together, Octavia,” she mumbled to herself. It shouldn’t have affected her like this, it was foolishness incarnate. She groaned and pushed her plate away, but thought better of it instantly. Time to clean up. A good night’s sleep would make her feel better. Tomorrow would be a new day, one where she wouldn’t think of another soul. Perhaps she’d stay in and read a good book. That sounded perfect.

She allowed herself to smile. Loneliness could be liberating too, she reminded herself. The plate went into the washer, the scraps into the disposal, and the pony towards her bed. She could do whatever she wished, whenever she wished. She could help some other pony and not develop some idealistic obsession with them. A healthier way to do it.

Octavia sprawled out on her bed, closing her eyes and relaxing. Better, so much better. Her lights dimmed automatically, a magical timer responding to the day’s late hour. She had it made, a good life, a good house, and a great job. What pony could ask for more?

A knocking sound rang out through the house, shattering both her illusion and the silence in equal amounts.

“Who could that be?” she mumbled, struggling to her hooves. A quick brush swept her mane back into something more resembling decency before heading to her front door. Before she could arrive, whatever pony it was knocked again.

“I’m coming!” she called, irritable, grumpy. She just wanted to be alone. With a huff, she swung the door open, her eyes taking a moment to truly focus on what waited on her front porch.

It was Vinyl. But not Vinyl from before, a beat down, broken Vinyl. Her stance sagged, her nose bled, an ugly blue and black bruise swelled one of her eyes shut. The cracked horn fizzled and sparked. She had no clothes, and thus no cover of the multitude of scratches on her side, the blood staining her white coat.

Octavia’s mouth hung open.

“Hey Octy.” It came out squeaky, scared, Vinyl trembling. “Can I uh, stay the night?”

An Explanation

Octavia wasted no time in taking in the injured filly. She also wasted no time in making sure that no wound would be left untreated. “Come in,” she replied, instant, quick. This was injustice, this was wrong. So much for forgetting her. “Follow me and lock the door behind you,” she ordered. Vinyl would have to listen for now. She wanted Octavia’s help? It would be on her terms this time.

As Octavia turned to lead the way deeper into her abode, it seemed that Vinyl would follow without complaint or without saying anything at all. She could hear the door lock, but otherwise, nothing returned her words. Octavia may have not known Vinyl for very long, but already she could tell that was unlike the more boisterous mare.

Regardless, Octavia took them to the same bathroom she’d let Vinyl use before. “Sit down. Can you clean yourself up a little bit? I’m going to get you a warm hand cloth for your nose and eye, alright?” she asked. She let her tone shift to be more gentle, caring. “I’ll only be a second. Do you want anything else? Water? Food?” she asked. Octavia’s eyes roamed all over Vinyl, getting a better look with the new light.

It did Vinyl no favors. The eye looked the worst of it, completely and utterly swelled shut. It twitched, looking as if Vinyl tried to open it but failed. The nose had mostly stopped bleeding, though the dried blood stained Vinyl’s white fur, standing out as sharply as the mare’s eyes. Even worse, the cuts on Vinyl’s side bled still, enough that it had already started to drip onto the white tile of the floor. Octavia’s eyes followed it down, waiting for her answer.

“No. No. Just the towels fine. Um.. do you have any bandages? O-or painkillers?” Vinyl asked, trying to smile but failing pathetically. She still trembled like a leaf in the wind, the poor girl so obviously terrified that anypony could see it.

“Yes, of course. Wait here,” Octavia ordered.

She hurried out, swiftly trotting through her home. She was a mare on a mission now, Vinyl had trusted her and she wouldn’t throw away that trust so easily. She rummaged through the drawers in her bedroom, throwing out clothes and all sorts of knick knacks to the ground as she searched for a very specific thing. It took her only a moment longer to find it - a red first aid kit, freshly stocked, still unopened. Octavia had hardly needed it before now, but she thanked the Goddesses for her preparedness. One of her wash clothes was tossed across her back, carrying it with her as she marched back down to the bathroom.

By the time she’d returned, Vinyl already looked half asleep. She slumped against the side of the wall, apparently having difficulty standing. With the clopping of Octavia’s hooves, however, Vinyl’s one good eye opened again. “Oh. Thanks,” she mumbled, standing up all the more straight. “So um, you can just leave it here and-”

“Hold still,” Octavia interrupted her. She wrestled with the kit, mentally cursing her Earth pony hooves. Why could she not have been born a unicorn? “I’m going to bandage your cuts,” she explained. “I’m going to disinfect them first, and it’s going to sting a bit, okay? I’m also going to hand you a cloth. Press it against your eye, or at least try to.”

She shrugged the cloth off, flicking the sink on and quickly wetting it with warm water. She handed it over to Vinyl, who accepted it as if she were in a haze. Despite the clear disorientation, Vinyl still pressed the rag against her eye, though she made a hiss of pain at the touch of it.

Octavia expected nothing less. It would be sore for days. Perhaps they’d even need to go to a hospital. Octavia didn’t like that thought, didn’t like having to send Vinyl away again. She pushed it far from her mind as she wet the bandages with disinfectant spray, the taste of it stinging her tongue and her hooves. With a grunt, she wrapped up Vinyl’s side, pulling the bandages tight. As expected, Vinyl whimpered again from the pain, a whimper that made Octavia’s heart skip a beat in her chest. She hated that sound.

“Okay,” Octavia finished, taking a step away and looking at her hoofwork. It wasn’t the best, but she’d managed to wrap the worst of the wounds. The bleeding had stopped dripping onto her floor and Vinyl looked… well, marginally better at best. She looked almost like a mummy. “Oh. Right. Painkillers,” she noted, remembering only because she imagined Vinyl’s pain.

She had to root through the kit to find those, and struggled to tear off the little tab with her teeth. Briefly, she considered the thought of writing a letter to whoever made this kit. Clearly, it wasn’t earth pony compatible!

At least Vinyl spoke again, breaking the relative silence in which Octavia had worked. “Hey, so uh, sorry about all this,” she started, letting out a weak little chuckle. “You know how things get. I was uh, really busy this week and everything, so I couldn’t come to my normal spot. I swear I didn’t mean to ghost you,” Vinyl rambled. Some of her words were a little slurred, but it was understandable.

With a huff at her victory over the small packet, Octavia hoofed over the two small pills. “Take those, please. They’ll make you start to feel at least a little better. And dear, please don’t worry about it. That’s not important right now.” Octavia couldn’t help but let her voice sound a little strained. She had been worried. She’d been curious. She’d thought she’d screwed up, and now Vinyl thought it would change with just an apology? Not yet.

Vinyl levitated up the pills, though she winced as her magic sparked. They disappeared into her muzzle, a swallow finishing them off not a moment later. “Right. Right,” Vinyl repeated, her voice cracking on the second one. “I guess uh, we can talk about that later, right?” she asked. Vinyl looked over at Octavia for what felt like the first time, timidly meeting her eyes. The hurt inside the single one was as clear as day, the fear, the terror. Octavia had felt all those things before, her heart skipping a beat once more.

“Of course. Tomorrow,” Octavia promised, returning the look with a smile of her own. It was her practiced smile, her reassuring smile, the smile that made other ponies think she was such a cultured lady. But most importantly, it was a smile that Vinyl needed to see. “Shall we get you settled into a bed?” she asked. Even Octavia’s perfectly manicured look had started to fall apart this late. She was tired, exhausted even, but her need and drive to care overwrote it all.

“That’d be awesome, Tavi, thanks,” she mumbled.

Octavia only nodded, starting to lead the way. “Tavi, hmm? I thought you were going to call me Octy, what happened with that?” she asked. She dared a peek over her shoulder, ensuring Vinyl followed her. For a little while, Octavia felt like the mare’s mom. She fixed her up when she was broken, took her in when she needed it… wasn’t that what mothers were supposed to do? Or just friends? Octavia preferred that thought.

“I like to keep it fresh,” Vinyl shot back, not even missing a beat. The simple response bolstered Octavia’s spirits. It meant that Vinyl wasn’t broken entirely, that she’d been beaten down but she could and would be fixed again.

“Of course,” Octavia agreed again, letting herself let out a little giggle. She opened one of the side doors, leading Vinyl towards one of the more modest bedrooms. Dresser, bed, nightstand, bookshelf, writing desk, that sort of deal. For Octavia, it would be modest, though others may not have the same thoughts. “Please, make yourself at home. Relax,” She offered. She stepped to the side, holding the door opened for the injured Vinyl. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened?” she asked.

The door closed behind them as Vinyl stepped it and Octavia released it. The injured mare hobbled over towards the bed, collapsing onto her uninjured side with a groan. “This bed is the best, Octy,” she declared, voice muffled only because her muzzle was stuck right into one of the pillows.

Octavia, however, clicked her tongue. She stepped across the floor lightly, taking a seat on the very edge of the bed. “Don’t change the subject, Miss Scratch. I’m letting you stay here, I think I deserve a few answers,” she pressed. Her breath caught in her throat, holding her next one without even thinking about it.

Vinyl huffed, rolling over onto her back and staring up at the ceiling instead. One of her hooves sprawled out against the bed, the other holding the towel against her eye all the while. She swallowed, biting at her lip, thinking about the answer. She didn’t say no, and to Octavia, that was by far the most important part. She couldn’t stand the thought of getting another no, or another ‘I have to go’.

“Look, when you’re homeless, you gotta do some bad shit to stay fed, right?” she proposed, propping her head up just enough to glance at Octavia. “I mean, most of the time you can live on other’s generosity, but there’s a reason some of us are homeless. Ponies don’t like me, you know?” she started.

Octavia’s blank look probably answered that question for her, especially considering Vinyl groaned with frustration and laid back against the pillow once more. “A long time ago, I pissed off the wrong ponies. Well, I didn’t even really piss off the wrong ponies, my dad did. That was enough though, and he hasn’t exactly… you know, paid his debts or any of that. It sounds stupid, but every time I try and get a job or something like that, a pony I recognize is always there to make sure it doesn’t happen.

“Every time I stay somewhere too long, they come on my corner too. I like, never get any peace, not even for a second. It’s like a fucking conspiracy, man. I didn’t do anything and I’m getting fucked for it. It sucks, I hate it. I mean, I know I sound like some sort of… paranoid crazy pony, but I swear it’s true!” Vinyl asserted, the conviction quite clear in her voice.

And for some reason that she didn’t quite know, Octavia believed her. She nodded in response, reaching a hoof out to ever so gently pat against Vinyl’s leg. “So that’s what it is? You’re homeless because your family is in trouble with...somepony?” she asked, keeping her words vague. She hadn’t exactly been given all the details.

“I mean, shit happened before that even came into the picture, but yea, basically,” Vinyl agreed. At some point, she’d reached up and started to trace a pattern into the ceiling, hoof going back and forth into little circles. “I didn’t have the greatest home life, but who did, right?” she asked, letting out a feeble, almost unstable sounding laugh with it.

Pity welled up inside of Octavia, spreading through her and taking root. She’d already worried, but now? Even more so. “I’m sorry to hear that Miss Scratch. I’m sure that it won’t be a problem here, though,” she said, sounding sure of herself. Inside, she had her doubts, but Vinyl didn’t need to hear those right now. Again, that was a conversation for the next day. “Though… you still didn’t answer how exactly you managed to get so injured,” Octavia reminded her. She cast a critical eye at Vinyl’s injuries - they didn’t exactly look pony made, or at least, the kind that would be made from a fight.

Vinyl rolled over again, facing away from Octavia. “I mean, that’s not really important,” she mumbled. “Look, do you mind if I go to bed now? I’m really tired. I’ll tell you about it in the morning,” she promised.

Doubts screamed at Octavia to not let that happen, to find out now. She’d already been ghosted once, she didn’t want it to happen again. But… perhaps a little trust would go along way? With a sigh, she stood from the bed with a small nod. “Of course. Good night, Miss Scratch. Sleep well.”

She drifted towards the door, waiting for one last answer. “You too, Tavi. See you tomorrow.”

And with that, Octavia could sleep.

Author's Notes:

Don't feel great about this one, super nervous!! Apologies in advance ><

An Opportunity to Recover

Like essentially every other day, Octavia started the morning by starting a breakfast. Often, she would make something quick. A buttered toast, or various fruits. Rarely, did she do a full spread. During the work weeks, she didn’t have the time and during the weekend, she didn’t have the drive. It was even rarer that she made food for someone else, the last time Vinyl had been in her house the only notable one she could remember.

Which made actually using her well-stocked kitchen feel strange, alien. She really worked for it; haybacon, fruits, pancakes, waffles, syrups laid out, so much more than she would ever need to do. Despite the oddity of the task, something about it felt satisfying, relaxing. Perhaps knowing that most of the food would go to somepony else made the whole situation easier to deal with. Vinyl clearly needed the food, and Octavia knew she’d likely be too sore to leave today. That’s what happened when wounds were that extensive, that encompassing.

She set the last plate, smiling slightly at her hoofwork. She’d done well. Unsurprisingly, Vinyl hadn’t exited the room Octavia had left her in, sleeping in instead. After the night the two of them had, Octavia wanted to as well. Yet, her body never let her. Seven A.M, on the dot, every day. Such a shame Octavia couldn’t stand tardiness. At the very least, it had gifted her the time to make this for her new friend.

And speaking of, she turned on her hooves, stepping carefully over to Vinyl’s door. She raised one of her hooves and gave three sharp knocks in quick succession. “Vinyl?” she called, through the door. “May I come in?”

Silence. At least, silence for a few seconds. The door glowed a bright cyan, jerking inwards with a sharp motion. Oh. Magic, right.

Octavia stepped in, looking towards the bed. Vinyl still lay, prone, on her side, facing away from the door. Her barrel fell in short, quick breaths, a pillow still smothering most of her head. “I’m still tired, Tavi,” she grumbled, her voice muffled.

“Oh, I can tell,” Octavia answered, stepping close to the bed’s edge. “But we need to check on your cuts, make sure that they aren’t still bleeding. Can you open your eye?” she asked, quietly. Hopefully, the swelling would have gone down a bit, but Octavia imagined that Vinyl’s head would still ache.

Vinyl groaned again, rolling over onto her back and moving the pillow aside with a quick burst of magic. Her eyes were open, the red easily spotted among the rest of her white. The one that’d been swollen shut was only barely open though, a single crack and nothing more. “It still hurts,” Vinyl complained. Some of the bandages had come off during the night as well, the loose strands stained with the dark red of dried blood. It wasn’t bad though and as far as Octavia could see from a cursory look, none had gotten on the sheets.

“Well of course it does.” Octavia ambled around the edge of the bed, going to the other side so she could get a closer look at her patient. “Honestly, you were really roughed up when you got here. Can you stand up? I’d like to take a look at the bandages and see how bad off they are. That, and I’ve made breakfast, and if you get up you can have as much as you like.”

It may have been a little bit of a bribe. Or a lot of a bribe. Regardless, it seemed to work as Vinyl rolled over in the bed, rolling off entirely and onto her hooves. She nearly crashed right into Octavia, only the latter’s quick movements bringing her out of range of the white unicorn.

The thought would certainly be rude to say, but Octavia couldn’t help but look at Vinyl like a particularly pathetic mummy. With the bandages hanging off of her, the white fur, and the swollen eye, she looked like a halloween costume gone wrong. Or gone right, depending on who you asked. She couldn’t help but let a small smile cross her lips, but she kept her laughter to herself.

“Sorry, sorry,” Vinyl mumbled out an apology. She dropped her head, letting her hair cover most of her face. “My head hurts, Tavi. How does everything look?” she asked, peeking from behind the curtain.

Octavia pursed her lips as she looked, circling around the mare. She reached forward, working on unraveling the bandages, taking them off. A few came with a bit of difficulty, dried blood keeping them to the spot. “It’s not bad at all. The cuts look shallow, though there are quite a few of them. Why don’t you take a shower before joining me for breakfast?” she asked. “I believe there should be spare bathrobe in that bathroom as well. How does that sound?” Octavia stopped when she was in front of Vinyl again. She really wasn’t used to being this gentle!

Vinyl simply looked at her for a few minutes, a frustrated look on her face. It slowly melted away to something more neutral, almost satisfied. And if not satisfied, resigned. “Sure. I’ll just uh, I’ll just be a few seconds, Tavi. Thanks,” She added, almost as an afterthought.

If she hadn’t been smiling before, Octavia definitely did now. She beamed at the thanks, her heart warming and a pleasant feeling spreading through her. “Of course. Think nothing of it. Do have a pleasant shower, Vinyl,” she said, the name rolling off her tongue oh so pleasantly. She honestly couldn’t remember the last time she’d used somepony’s first name.

Out Octavia went, instantly heading back to the kitchen. Not content to simply set the table, she instead worked on divvying up portions of the food onto each of their plates. She even went as far as to pour a glass of orange juice for herself and Vinyl, as well as a glass of water for Vinyl. Just in case she didn’t want the same drink, of course.

She waited with a bit of anxiety still plaguing her. Part of her couldn’t help but suspect that Vinyl lied - yes, she had no real reason to, but the situation was rather outlandish, and Octavia considered herself a skeptic during the best of times.

Eventually, Vinyl rejoined her. The mare had definitely cleaned up nicely, stripping her way out of most of the bandages. Her eye was still rather swollen, but most of the cuts were shallow now that they’d had a day to clear up and get the worst of the filth away from them. Her white coat was once more pristine, practically glittering in the early morning light. A still wet mane clung to her neck and throat, only away from her eyes because of Vinyl’s horn. She slid into the chair opposite Octavia with an easy gait, only wincing once as she sat.

“Are you feeling better today, Vinyl?” Octavia asked. She didn’t look at her food yet - yes, she was hungry, but the guest took precedence.

Octavia received a shrug in response. “Yea. It’s definitely better, I think. I dunno, I’m still pretty sore, Tavi. Um.. you mind if I start eating or anything? I know you’re high class, right? So you probably have all sorts of manners. I’ll probably fuck them up, so you know, my bad on that one,” Vinyl explained. Despite the excuse, she somehow still managed to sound easy going to Octavia.

“Please, go right ahead. Think nothing of it. You are my guest, and thus, anything you need I’d be happy to fulfill,” Octavia answered back. She smiled a soft, caring smile. Vinyl gave her a goal, gave her something to do. She hadn’t had something like that at home for….well, a very long time. Practicing not withstanding, she didn’t exactly have many hobbies. Perhaps it was rude to consider another pony a hobby? Regardless, Vinyl at least gave her mind something to concentrate on.

Thankfully, she wouldn’t have to think very hard on that dilemma. Vinyl muttered a mumbled thanks before instantly diving into the food, much like a starving bear would jump on a fresh deer in the woods. Octavia quickly surmised that Vinyl hadn’t been eating a lot over the last few days. Perhaps her story held its water and she had been harassed. That would explain the voracity with which Vinyl attacked her food.

In the meantime, Octavia busied herself with her own. More delicately, of course, but she still ate. The silence between them was comfortable rather than awkward as both of them sated their needs. Naturally, Octavia finished first, Vinyl apparently having a near bottomless appetite.

“Would you want seconds?” Octavia asked, breaking the silence. She couldn’t help but be a tad bit curious as to how much Vinyl would be able to stomach. Could she clean out everything that Octavia prepared? That would be quite the feat.

Vinyl shook her head, mouth still full of something or the other. She swallowed hard, chasing it down with half of the cup of water. “No thanks, Tavi. I’m good. Damn, where’d you learn to cook like that anyways? I thought you’d have servants or something.”

Octavia giggled a small, little giggle. “Oh no. I used to, but once I became complete owner of the estate, I let most of them go with glowing recommendations. I prefer to be a private pony in the end. That, and I honestly enjoy cooking. Why should I let somepony else do one of the things I get pleasure from?” she asked, tilting her head ever so slightly to the side.

“Oh. Yea, sure. I get that. Cooking can be fun sometimes. Fuck the mess though, you know?” Vinyl explained, waving a fork in the air for...emphasis? Octavia couldn’t help but wonder what she was doing.

“It’s not so bad. Just clean as you work. It makes it more simple, not as much time. With cooking, you’re waiting a lot of the time anyways, so there isn’t any reason not to,” she explained. “However… I do hate to change the subject so readily, but there is quite a few things that we still need to discuss. First of all, exactly how long do you need to stay here?” she asked.

Vinyl froze, suddenly looking at Octavia with a certain amount of trepidation. She looked over Octavia’s body, going up and down slowly. “You aren’t… you aren’t going to kick me out, are you Tavi? Look, I can’t go back out there. Please. I can’t deal with that. They’ll find me and-and they’ll make this,” she gestured to herself, “look like foal’s play, you got that? They’ll kill me, Octavia, please. I just need to stay a little lo-”

Octavia held up a hoof, silencing her breakfast mate. “Miss Scratch, I have no intention of kicking you out. I merely need to plan how much food to buy and how my plans are affected by having a housemate,” she offered. She smiled, trying to assure the more skittish mare of her good intentions. “Please, don’t worry about it. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you need. Though, I do hope you’ll be more inclined to give me the full story once we’ve had a little bit of time to get better acquainted. Would you be willing to go that far for me?” she asked. She inched a little closer, eyes trained on Vinyl.

Octavia saw the white mare’s ears droop first. She looked down towards her plate, sagging in the chair. She let out a quiet sigh, obvious worry getting to her. Octavia could easily see the mare fidget, though Octavia had no issue with simply letting the girl take her time to think.

Finally, her efforts would be paid off. “Okay. Okay. Yea. Sure. I get it. I… would a couple of months be out of the question?” Vinyl asked. She sat up a little straighter in her chair, one of her ears perking up.

Octavia’s heart swelled, and she suddenly felt almost responsible for the other mare. She couldn’t disappoint Vinyl. “Of course, Miss Scratch. A couple of months will be just fine,” she agreed.

A Lie?

A week passed in a flash. Between work, Vinyl, and simply taking care of the house, the time seemed to fly by. Vinyl kept to herself for the most part, taking extra care to clean up after herself. For Octavia, it was a simple joy to come back to somepony waiting for her. Sure, they were a homeless pony that Octavia took pity on, but they were still a pony and one that she’d started to grow fond of at that.

The two of them had talked a great deal during their time together. The topics nearly always stayed light, and when they didn’t, Vinyl steered the conversation back to another topic. It seemed no matter how Octavia approached it, Vinyl didn’t want to talk about why she was homeless, or who stalked and hurt her. At the least, Octavia could respect wanting to stay silent. Trust definitely seemed hard to come by.

However, that didn’t mean the two of them weren’t bonding. Octavia learned quite a few things about Vinyl. She’d wanted to be a musician growing up and could even play the piano. Her favorite food was hayburgers, something that Octavia couldn’t help but giggle about - it was just so simple! Not only that, but she had five siblings, and still talked with all but one of them. The only child in Octavia couldn’t even think of sharing the house with another pony, much less five!

Regardless, Octavia found the conversations pleasant distractions from the daily tedium. Naturally, she’d re-asserted herself in the symphony, playing with the flawless grace that she believed only she could pull off. Octavia was happy, Miss Note was happy, High Society was not. In Octavia’s opinion, things were about as perfect as they could be. She finally had a friend, and that made all the difference in the world.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t last. A bustling tuesday found Octavia returning home with a smile on her face. She traveled light today, leaving her instrument behind in the symphony’s storage room, always locked save for when they practiced. She’d already been thinking that perhaps her and Vinyl could go out tonight. That would be nice, wouldn’t it? Perhaps Octavia could call in a favor, get them in at one of those restaurants one needed a reservation for. Maybe Octavia could shake that silly notion of hayburgers being Vinyl’s favorite food, a well-made Prench dinner would surely take the top spot.

Octavia stopped at the front of the walkway leading up to her house. At her door, two ponies stood, one unicorn mare, one earth pony stallion. The stallion wore nothing, showing his light beige coat and silver- streaked black mane. The mare wore a long, silver dress that accentuated her darker coat quite well. Her mane stood out from the rest of it, a light blue either dyed for effect or a natural color that offset everything else.

Normally, Octavia wouldn’t blink twice about seeing a couple like the two. Them being in front of her house changed things. She cleared her throat as she stepped close, the two of them turning to face her direction. “Can I help you?” Octavia asked. She kept her voice light, probing.

The mare turned first, her face an impassive mask. She looked towards her partner and gave him a small nod as she stepped forward. “Good evening. Miss Philharmonic, I presume?” she asked. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. My name is Virtue, and this is my associate Rook,” she introduced, nodding her head a little more obviously towards the stallion. Virtue’s muzzle had split into a small smile, but Octavia couldn’t help but notice that it didn’t reach her eyes. Her hoof reached out for a greeting shake, one that was immaculately clean with perfectly trimmed fetlocks.

“You’re correct. Charmed, I’m sure,” Octavia answered, giving the hoof a dainty, small shake. “I’m sorry to be direct, but is there any particular reason you’re waiting at my house, Miss Virtue?” She looked behind the two of them, looking for any sorts of damage or pamphlet. Her door seemed unscathed and unsolicited, so she couldn’t imagine why the two of them would bother her. “Especially this late. Isn’t six the cut-off for door to door salesponies usually?” she asked. Her tone was a little biting, but she was annoyed. She had plans and didn’t want to bother with any of this!

But Virtue kept that easy, small smile the entire time. “Oh, we aren’t selling anything, I assure you of that.” She had a suave voice, the sort you’d hear for a radio host. It was almost soothing in a strange way. “We’re simply doing community service. A convict has escaped recently from our holding, a certain Vinyl Scratch. Last we’d heard, she’d been spotted in this neighborhood and my partner and I have been going door to door to see if anypony has spotted her. She has a white coat, red eyes, and a cutie mark of a musical note. Her mane is a bright, striped electric blue, can’t miss her. Any information regarding her whereabouts would be greatly appreciated. I don’t suppose you’ve spotted her, have you?” Virtue asked. She arched one of her eyebrows up, looking inquisitive, probing.

Octavia’s heart skipped a beat. She managed to keep her face from reflecting the internal struggle that raged inside of her. Vinyl? A criminal? No. That couldn’t be, could it? Everything she’d learned of Vinyl implied nothing of the sort. She inspected the two across from her carefully, sizing them up. “I see,” she finally answered. She wouldn’t throw her newest friend under the bus yet. Octavia needed to know the truth. “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen her. May I inquire as to what she’s done?” she asked. She needed to know, had to know. Vinyl wouldn’t get to hide anymore, Octavia had to have answers.

Virtue nodded, though her smile contorted into a frown instead, tail clinging tight to herself. Nervous? Octavia couldn’t tell. “I’m afraid it’s mostly confidential,” Virtue said, looking more apologetic now. “What I can tell you, however, is that she’s dangerous to the point where approaching her is a risky prospect. Please, if you see her, let us know,” she offered. From somewhere, Virtue produced a business card, white, stark and simple.

Virtue and Rook

Detective Agency

715 Hoofshod Way.

Octavia frowned, accepting it and tucking it against her dress. “Very well. I’ll keep my eyes out. I’ll let you know as soon as I see anything,” she promised. Luckily for Vinyl, Octavia had practice with lying and putting faces on. She could say those words without even a flinch, them coming out as easily as the truth.

And the two seemed to buy it. “Until then,” Virtue finished. Octavia stepped aside, letting them pass. She didn’t dare look back, though she could tell from the sound of receding hoofsteps that they retreated. In, Octavia went.

The second she had a door between her and the two, she allowed her true emotions to show once more. Panic and suspicion dueled with each other inside of her. The two had to be lying, right? Vinyl wasn’t dangerous. She wasn’t, couldn’t be. The mare had been hurt, not hurt anyone else. Octavia could imagine it as nothing but a lie.

She’d have to find out the truth herself. With determination flaring inside of her, she made her way to where she knew Vinyl would be waiting. She didn’t even bother knocking on Vinyl’s door this time, instead stepping right inside. She had a speech prepared, a scathing retort that would demand answers.

She didn’t get the chance. A flying white blur slammed against her, toppling over Octavia. It actually took her a few moment’s time to realize that Vinyl had tackle-hugged her to the ground. The white mass of fur trembled against her, Vinyl’s face hiding against Octavia’s side. Octavia could only barely hear the sound of crying, though the jerking rise and fall of Vinyl’s side gave it away more than anything.

“Vinyl?” Octavia asked, voice quiet, subdued. She reached a hoof out, awkwardly resting it on Vinyl’s side. She really didn’t know what to do. She’d never exactly been known for comforting over ponies. To be fair, she’d never been known for talking to other ponies either. This was all unbroken ground. “Are you okay, Vinyl?” she asked, nary a whisper.

Vinyl shook her head, something that Octavia only knew because she could feel it against her side. “What...what’s wrong?” Octavia dared to ask. Is that what you were supposed to say? She didn’t know. How did you fix this?

Vinyl peeked out, just enough for Octavia to see those big, watering eyes, ears pressed back so hard Octavia honestly thought they’d get stuck like that. “Those people. They won’t leave me alone. Why won’t they leave me alone?” she asked, in a small, scared sounding voice. “I didn’t do anything. They’re lying, Tavi. They’re lying, I promise. I’m not dangerous,” she rambled.

Well, at the very least, it seemed like Octavia wouldn’t have to deliver her speech. Sympathy ate at her more than anything else, overpowering the emotions of fear, worry. Vinyl wouldn’t do anything to hurt her - nopony that collapsed this badly could really be dangerous, right?

Right?

Octavia let out a long sigh, patting Vinyl on the back. “It’s okay. Honestly, it’s okay. I didn’t believe them anyways.” Not quite a lie. She still hadn’t figured out the truth, but for now, she’d much prefer having the crying mare off of her body than on it. She wiggled a bit under Vinyl, pushing a bit. “Can we please stand up, Vinyl? It’s not a big deal, I promise. I won’t kick you out, and you can continue to stay inside for as long as you need,” she assured. Granted, that absolutely ruined her dinner plans and any plans that she made for the rest of… well, forever, but it was worth the price, wasn’t it?

That was only confirmed as those sad eyes turned into something more hopeful, gradually unhiding her face from Octavia’s side. “You mean it?” she asked, small, vulnerable. Octavia thought that a single wrong word would break her right now. That was almost a scary feeling, having another’s entire fate in your hooves was… it was too much.

Regardless, she nodded her head in a short, quick nod. “Of course. Of course I mean it, Vinyl. Those two definitely rubbed me the wrong way, and I’d hardly throw you to the metaphorical wolves when I don’t even know the full story,” she explained. It felt like handling glass and Octavia was the hammer. “And even then, I want to understand what’s happened. I’ve known you for a little bit now and I know you aren’t dangerous no matter what they say. Do you know who those two are anyways?” she asked, allowing a bit of curiosity into her voice.

Vinyl shook her head, burying it once more against Octavia’s side. “No. They’re not real police though, right?” she asked, though the words came out muffled. Octavia supposed that speaking into somepony’s side would do that to your words.

Octavia paused before patting Vinyl’s side again. “I don’t think so,” she lied, smooth as sick. Virtue and Rook looked like Canterlot PD to her. She could be wrong, she could always be wrong, but it felt like they were telling what they knew of the truth. Which… a sickening thought suddenly ate away at Octavia. That meant that the corruption went much higher than just the two investigators. “Hey Vinyl, why don’t I make us some dinner and relax a little bit? I’m sure we could both use it,” she offered, with a small smile.

Vinyl ever so slowly nodded, sniffling as she extricated herself from Octavia. Oh thank Celestia, Octavia had to admit she was starting to get a tad uncomfortable.”Okay. That sounds good. That sounds really good. Thank you, Tavi. I mean… really. Y-you’re the best,” Vinyl sniffled, nearly hiccuping as she stood up.

Warmth flooded Octavia’s heart at the compliment, but her mind still doubted. Just who was telling the truth and who lied?

Author's Notes:

If you wanna talk about the story: https://discord.gg/BCRYH2u

An Investigation

If Vinyl wasn’t already spending most of her time in isolation, the visit from the two investigators only made it all the worse. She spent nearly all of her time in her room for the following week, not even coming out for mealtimes like usual. Instead, Octavia kept bringing them to her door and simply dropped them off. Another, better pony might have coaxed Vinyl from her room, but Octavia simply couldn’t do it. Every time she thought about it, her stomach simply twisted up in knots. It was infuriating quite honestly, definitely something she should be better than.

In the meantime, Octavia started her own little investigation. She wouldn’t be one to sit on her hooves while her friend suffered. Working the orchestra gave her plenty of time to fiddle with her own devices, and for now, Vinyl would be the object of her fascination. She didn’t have many connections as one would think of her position, but the ones she did she set into employ. Perhaps most importantly, she had planned to visit her most favorite noble of all: Fancy Pants. Kind didn’t even begin to describe him, and if anyone could help her navigate through such a difficult situation, it would be him.

Which meant a dinner in the city’s Art district would be called for. She’d planned it, dressed for it, and now she waited. Octavia wore a stunning lilac dress, long, form-fitting and glistening ever so slightly in the light. The tail end of it split, almost like a mermaid’s tail, and svelte, small pearls hugging against her neck. She waited outside a particularly popular spot: The Gilded Mare. It served all sorts of things, but mostly concentrated on the Prench cuisine that Octavia loved so much. A shame that Vinyl wouldn’t be here to try it herself, but perhaps she could bring some back.

For now, she waited calmly at the front of it, a small crowd buzzing around the entrance. Thankfully, Fancy Pants was practically the picture of prompt. A tap on her shoulder alerted Octavia to his presence. The stallion wore his traditional suit, hair perfectly taken care of, monocle in place. The Fancy classic. With a bright, wide smile, Octavia leaned forward, throwing her forelegs around him in a tight hug. Fancy Pants was not the type of pony that you shook hooves with, especially not when you planned on asking him a favor!

“Well, it’s good to see you too, Miss Philharmonic,” Fancy Pants welcomed, a little pat on Octavia’s back as a small comfort. The two of them split apart, wide enough that Octavia could see the small, classy smile on Fancy’s face as well. “Shall we go ahead and get our seats? I’ve reserved my normal table for us,” he explained, not missing a step.

Octavia bowed her head in acceptance, already feeling better. Fancy Pants would know what to do and how to navigate through this mire of lies and half truths. He might be the only one she knew who could actually help her. As he led her through the throng of ponies and deeper into the restaurant, conversation sprang up naturally.

“It’s been quite a while since we’ve last talked, has it not?” he asked, just loud enough to be heard and not a single decibel more. He had something of a gift with that, didn’t he? “I have to say, we really should do this more often. You’re quite the conversationalist,” he noted.

Those words alone brought the hint of a blush to Octavia’s cheeks. “You’re too kind, Fancy,” she brushed it off, with a small giggle. “But you’re right. It’s been a couple months, hasn’t it? Have you been coming to the Orchestra’s performance?” she asked.

The two of them had a table out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the restaurant. It was in a corner, a small booth with four seats. The two of them took a side each, the seats wide enough to easily stretch out on. “Oh, of course,” Fancy answered, nodding his head ever so slightly. “Same booth every week. You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he teased.

This wasn’t the sort of restaurant to actually give you a menu. Simply put, the chef cooked something that day and you had it. There was a sampling of different wines and liquors, but that and how your dish was cooked would be the extent of your choice. Which didn’t set Octavia out at all - no, she preferred it. A practical ocean of quality separated these sorts of places from your more humdrum restaurants, something that Octavia couldn’t go back to.

Apparently, Fancy’s presence had set the place on high alert as well. Already glasses of water waited for them, placemats already set. A centerpiece made purely of glass roses took the middle of the table, a wonderful decoration that went well with the light tablecloth.

Octavia adjusted a bit in her seat, getting used to high society dining again after weeks of eating at home. “Maybe next time I’ll take a look for you. Perhaps the Orchestra could play a piece in honor of your recent charity establishment? I was just oh so disappointed about missing the gala for its opening that I wanted to make it up somehow. I’ve simply been preoccupied, but I think I could probably talk to Miss Note. Wouldn’t that be nice?” Octavia asked. She wouldn’t be particularly subtle, but an offering like that would definitely bring Fancy Pants’ interest to the table - proverbially speaking. Octavia didn’t usually influence things like that, but as a lead for such an important instrument, she could pull a few strings - literally and proverbially speaking this time. Besides, the charity had been the talk of the town for weeks now, and something capitalizing on it would be good for everyone.

It seemed to strike home as Fancy’s face positively lit up in excitement. “That would be absolutely wonderful, Octavia!” he said, enthusiasm showing through in his face. “Truly wonderful. I’ve been trying to get the word out about it, and a plug from the Orchestra? Why, I can’t imagine how much money that alone would bring. You’d be willing to do that for me?” he asked, a slightly more curious expression taking over instead.

Speaking of curiosity… Octavia’s smile turned a little more wan, knowing that her request would be a lot. “Yes. And I truly didn’t meant to come here to dinner to get something out of you, but I am in need of a small boon and I figured that dinner would be much more pleasant if business was out of the way first,” she noted. Letting out a small sigh. “I have recently come across a matter of interest to myself. There’s a mare that seems to be wanted by the police force known as Vinyl Scratch. Or, at the least, a couple came to my door proclaiming that. I know you have contacts within the force and perhaps you could take a look into it for me?” she asked. The cards were laid out on the table plain and simple. Fancy could say no, he could say yes. But honestly, she didn’t know if she had another recourse.

Fancy did look contemplative as well, his eyes inspecting Octavia with a certain carefulness. “This mare, you know her well? Or is this just a curiosity? I’m sure that you’d know better than to ask for something like this when it doesn’t matter, but what is this mare to you?” he asked, one hoof ever so carefully placed on the table.

“I know her in a- Oh, who am I kidding? You deserve the truth, especially since I’m asking so much. Vinyl was a beggar on the corner of my street on the way to work every day. Sometimes I’d leave her a few bits or so just to help her out. One day, I brought her home for breakfast and we bonded. She’s been living at my house for a while now. She’s an absolute sweetheart, and I have such a hard time believing what the investigators said. I know it can’t be true but… I’m worried. I don’t know what is the truth,” Octavia explained, giving a condensed version. Her head bowed down, ears flat against her head. If anyone would understand, it would be Fancy.

A little sigh came out of the stallion and he shook his head ever so slightly. Yet, he smiled, a small, almost sad looking smile. “You always do manage to find yourself into the strangest situations, Octavia. I don’t think any other pony has come to me with a similar story to that, and believe me, I’ve heard many, many different stories. You always are getting yourself in trouble,” he noted, a little bit of chastisement in his tone.

Octavia started to speak up, to defend herself, but Fancy raised a hoof, keeping her quiet. “I’ll help you. Don’t get me wrong, I think what you’ve done is careless, and a bit foalish, but I’ll help you. I can get you the information you need but-” his expression turned a touch more teasing. “You know you didn’t have to bribe me, correct? Octavia, you’re a good mare trying to help somepony who is down on their luck. I would have helped you for nothing, but I do thank you for the offer,” he finished, lowering his hoof back down.

Something caught in Octavia’s throat, holding her back from speaking instantly. After the initial reprimand, she’d expected a no, but to also get commended for her approach sent a wave of emotion through her. She did just want to help. Sure, she wanted a friend too, but Vinyl needed her and she might get to keep her around for a while. She finally found her voice, though it was still thick with emotion.

“Thank you. Honestly, thank you. I really needed something to go right with this. She’s too scared to leave her room right now and I just… I didn’t know what to do or who else to turn to. You’re a real treasure, Fancy, and I’m so lucky to have known you,” she admitted, her cheeks staining a bit pink from a blush.

Fortunately, the mood lightened quite a bit with Fancy’s laughter, the stallion waving a hoof a bit dismissively. “Don’t worry about it, dear. It’s what I’m here for. However, I do have a small request. Perhaps I could meet this Vinyl Scratch? Maybe a bit more socialization would help coax her back out. I’d really hate for her to live in such worry. Would it be too much trouble for me to come by with the results of my investigation and meet her then?” he asked.

Octavia smiled a timid smile, her head beating in her chest and the rest of her body feeling oh-so-very-warm. “I think that’d be a really nice idea. Just promise you won’t be surprised, deal? She’s not exactly the most cultured mare in the world, but she’s definitely endearing in her own way,” she explained. She could only imagine the high society crowd that she normally hung around with seeing the brash, crass Vinyl for the first time. She wondered if Vinyl would choose ‘Octy’ or ‘Tavi’ for that day. She hoped it’d be Tavi. Honestly, she liked that better.

A waiter stopped by their table before Fancy could speak, bowing his head to the both of them: “Gentlestallion, lady,” he mumbled to each of them in turn. He ever so carefully filled their wine glasses from a bottle, dark red liquid coming from within. He let the bottle rest on their table, bowing his head once more. “Please don’t hesitate to call if you need absolutely anything. Have a pleasant meal,” he said. And with that, he was gone, giving Fancy the floor back.

“That seems to be as good of a sign as any, doesn’t it, Octavia dear?” Fancy asked, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips. “Believe me, I don’t have the tiniest fragment of doubt your Vinyl is lovely, and I won’t be bothered by any of their words. But for now, shall we have our dinner? I think we could both enjoy some time without thinking of anything more than good food and good company.”

A bright, happy grin spread across Octavia’s face, the same warm feeling taking over for certain. “Yes, let’s.”

Author's Notes:

https://discord.gg/BCRYH2u Please feel free to join up if you wanna chat!!

A Friend's Visit

What exactly took somepony so long to ask questions? Fancy missed the first week entirely, the days passing one after the other with no answer, no contact. Each of the days dragged on, the mysteries still weighing on Octavia’s mind. She thought about Vinyl damned near all the time, when she worked, when she cooked, even when she tried to sleep. Thankfully, at the least, her near obsession hadn’t impacted her playing ability yet. Miss Note would surely notice and she hadn’t said a word.

On the bright side, Vinyl seemed to be doing quite a bit better. Perhaps it was the time that’d passed since Virtue and her goon poked around, but Vinyl didn’t seem near as on edge. Granted, she still hadn’t left the house, but at the least the two of them spent most of their time together when Octavia was actually home. They’d started to grow more comfortable with each other, content to merely relax within the other’s presence. Not a bad life at all.

It was one of these relaxing, off days that Octavia found herself. The weekend had come, the Orchestra not performing for once. The two of them were sprawled out in her living room, Octavia pouring over a book while Vinyl played the piano in the corner of the room. Vinyl actually had quite the skill with it, something that certainly surprised Octavia to no end. The soft little tunes eased her mind, a perfectly calm day.

“You know Vinyl, you really are quite good at that,” Octavia noted, a hoof turning one of the pages in her books. She shifted a little on the couch, trying to get a tad bit more comfortable. Unfortunately, these things were built more for looks than comfort.

Out of the corner of her eye, Octavia could see Vinyl look over her shoulder and give her the cheekiest of grins. “You didn’t think that I got my cutie mark for nothing, did ya Tavi?” she asked, attention turning back to the piano. “You wanna hear some Clopin?” she asked.

Octavia glanced over towards Vinyl again, one of her eyebrows arched. “Let’s hear it then. I didn’t know that you’d be familiar with the old masters.” What a coincidence. Octavia just so happened to be reading a biography on that very composer’s life. Then again, that might have been the point of Vinyl’s offer.

“Pfft, of course I know ‘em. I didn’t take seven years of piano lessons for nothing,” Vinyl shot back, turning to the keys.

A beautiful rendition of Clopin’s Nocturne in E-flat Major filled the air, something that earned quite the interest from Octavia. She sat her book down and shifted again, looking over towards the piano. Vinyl looked entirely concentrated, magic pressing down each of the keys in turn. Her eyes were closed, but she looked to be mouthing something to herself.

For a while, Octavia simply listened. She’d always been a fanatic of the arts, always one that wanted to see the next big thing. Vinyl’s playing didn’t miss a single key, didn’t misplay a single note. She’d had training and Octavia expected that, but she’d never expected something of this caliber.

Unfortunately, the performance would be cut quite short, a knock on their door announcing the arrival of somepony. Vinyl instantly froze, the piano stopping along with her. She glanced towards Octavia with a scared, worried look, but Octavia could already guess who it was.

“Hold on,” she soothed, keeping her voice down. “It’s a friend, I promise. Just wait here, I’ll be right back,” she explained. The earth pony got to her hooves, standing up while Vinyl stayed practically locked to the piano stool. Octavia gave her one last worried look before heading towards the foyer and the front door.

Naturally, when she opened it, Fancy waited instead of someone much more sinister. A wide smile broke across Octavia’s muzzle, one returned by the stallion. “Oh, it’s wonderful to see you, dear,” Octavia welcomed. She closed the distance between them, one foreleg wrapping around Fancy in a light hug, which he returned.

“And you as well,” Fancy agreed, taking a step back and giving her space. “May I come in? I have news and- well, it probably shouldn’t be said in the opening.” Rarely did Fancy exaggerated, if ever, and by the way he glanced over his shoulder and the tone of his voice, Octavia could tell just how serious this was. She gave a nod and ushered him in, locking the door tight back up behind him.

Vinyl hadn’t left, still rooted to the spot. That might make this a bit awkward, but Octavia considered herself an expert in avoiding awkwardness. “Vinyl, this is a friend of mine, Fancy Pants. Fancy, this is Vinyl Scratch,” she introduced, leading the way to the couch she’d previously relaxed on. “Won’t you sit, Fancy?” she asked.

The tension held in the air for a second before Fancy broke it. He gave a gracious nod and trotted towards the couch, taking a seat. “It’s wonderful to meet you, Miss Scratch. I’m sure any friend of Octavia’s is positively lovely. Do you play the piano?” he asked, a pleasant smile on his face.

Vinyl didn’t answer instantly. Octavia could see her squirm, ears flicking back on her head. Oh dear, this could certainly be bad, couldn’t it? Maybe Octavia should say something, maybe she should interrupt and keep the conversation flowing without Vinyl. After all, she could understand all of that worry.

Fortunately for the both of them, Vinyl pleasant surprised her. “H-hey Fancy,” she started, that same casual sounding voice as always. Well, not quite. There was a bit of a quiver wasn’t there? “Yea, I can play. I’m not that great, but yea, I can play,” she repeated, a clear little shake of nervousness.

Octavia sighed, stepping between the two. “Nonsense, Vinyl. You’re amazing, in every way.”

If Vinyl hadn’t blushed before, she certainly did now. That white face erupted into red, cheeks practically stained with the color. The nervous mare turned back to the piano keys in practically a huff and began the movement all over again. It seemed to distract her quite nicely.

Something that Octavia couldn’t help but let out a small giggle about. The grey mare joined Fancy on the couch, meeting his pleasant smile with one of her own. “So! What was the news as it were? Is it something that can be said in good company? We aren’t exactly alone here, after all,” she explained, gaze flickering towards Vinyl for just a moment. Octavia said the last part quite a bit quieter, just barely loud enough for Fancy to hopefully hear over the dulcet sounds of the piano.

Fancy waved a hoof, ever so casual. “Believe me, I would have come much quicker had the news been dire. I’m happy to say that you have absolutely nothing to worry about. All the claims that you questioned were indeed false. I tried my best to get more information on who exactly spread them, but no luck so far,” he explained, an apologetic look on his face.

A rush of relief flooded through Octavia, so quickly and powerfully that she couldn’t help but let it out in a sigh and a delighted little giggle. “Thank you so much, Fancy. It seems that I’m eternally in your debt,” she admitted, fluttering her eyelashes at the stallion and pressing a hoof gently against her chest. “I have another small favor, if it’s not too much? Perhaps you could continue poking about the nature of the scoundrels? I’m afraid you are my only hope.” An understatement if there ever was one. Sure, Octavia had connections, but Fancy? He was practically Canterlot embodied.

But before he could respond, Vinyl peeked over her shoulder at the pair, apparently managing to get over her embarrassment. “Whatcha talkin’ about anyways? You know, not to pry or anything, but it sounds juicy,” she teased. “Let ol’ Vinyl in on the scoop too!”

Octavia and Fancy exchanged looks, though Octavia spoke first. “It’s- nothing, really,” she began, a touch of worry in her tone. “I’ve had to deal with some hecklers spreading uncouth rumors about me lately. I believe it’s a pair of mares trying to get my spot in the orchestra, but I haven’t been able to figure anything out yet. Which is why I brought Fancy in,” she lied, smooth as could be. They always said the best lies were based on a hint of truth, and this one had that since it happened before.

Luckily for Octavia, Fancy caught on quite quickly, shaking his head with an almost disgusted look. “It’s quite dreadful, to be honest with you. The things they’ve said about Octavia would make even the foulest of sailors hesitate. Then again, I suppose it’s quite easy when you’re anonymous, no one has to know it’s you being the knave. Regardless, I’m sure we’ll figure it out soon enough and put the rumor to an early grave.”

The story may not hold up to a close inspection, especially considering the first few sentences of their conversation. Octavia merely hoped that Vinyl hadn’t paid enough attention at the start due to her embarrassment. Small hopes, but hopes nonetheless.

It seemed like it would pass. Vinyl’s expression soured, but in an expected way. “Fuckin’ assholes,” she swore, letting out a huff. “You lemme know who they are and I’ll set them straight.” With that, she turned back towards the piano, continuing her performance.

“Yes, well, that’s very sweet but I’m sure it won’t be needed,” Octavia deflected. Somewhere deep inside of her, warmth blossomed - how long had it been since she had someone who cared about her to that extent? She’d been so lonely for such a long time.

But it wasn’t to think about now. Not when company waited for her hospitality. “With the business out of the way, would you prefer to stay, Fancy? I could perhaps make tea, I believe I have some scones prepared as well. We could make a day out of it,” she suggested.

“I’m afraid not,” Fancy declined, looking positively dejected about it. “I have more business to attend to today, Fleur wishes for me to come with her on another tour of the fashion district. I quite love her, but- Well, sometimes, she manages to wear me out,” he admitted, chuckling good naturedly.

Warm thoughts stirred in Octavia’s head. Fleur had a certain energy to her that very few could match, an enthusiasm for all the things she loved and a compassionate nature. And not only that, but she had the looks to match, looks so good that even Octavia couldn’t help but fantasize sometimes. Straight as an arrow, sure, but Octavia could dream.

The mare managed to break herself out of that mini-daydream with a cough. “Right. Right. Of course. Shall I show you out then?” Octavia asked, ever so delicately extricating herself from the couch.

Of course Fancy noticed. He looked at Octavia with such a smug look that Octavia almost felt like she’d melt on the spot. Thankfully, he had the wherewithal to not say anything, and within a few moments, and a couple of exchanged pleasantries, he would be off.

A shame, really. Octavia appreciated the goodness, and saying goodbye had put her in quite the nice mood. With one last wave, she closed the door and turned, ready to continue the day in happiness.

Only to turn directly into a stewing Vinyl, waiting practically right behind her with quite the look on her face. “You were talking about me. Spill,” she demanded.

Octavia gulped.

An Almost Mistake

Octavia tried her best to smile. She really did, but smiling in the face of something like that, well it felt quite strange, didn’t it? Her smile wavered as she gave the softest of chuckles.”Why, it’s nothin-”

Octavia suddenly found her muzzle sealed shut by a light azure glow of all things. Vinyl practically glared at her, those brilliant ruby eyes boring into Octavia’s very soul. “Tavi, I know you were talkin’ about me. I need to stay here, so it’s like, not a big deal or whatever, but I really don’t appreciate that shit, okay?” she asked, Vinyl’s look growing all the more stern. “I want you to tell me what you two talked about. If it’s really nothing, nothing will change, right? And if it’s not.” The seriousness started to fade, replaced with a downtrodden look instead. “I’ll get it if you want me to move back out. I like living here and shit, but I’m not gonna force it on you or anything like that. So, let’s hear it, alright!? Tell me the truth!”

Vinyl punctuated her words with a jab of her hoof, poking Octavia dead on in the chest.Fine, fine, she could tell the truth, she supposed. Octavia began to open her muzzle again to explain everything, but couldn’t.

“Oh, right! Sorry, sorry, I got a little hot headed,” Vinyl explained, letting her magic finally fade. “Sorry, there.” A pink blush colored the white of Vinyl’s cheeks even, the color so vibrant against such a clear canvas.

With her muzzle now returned to her, Octavia cleared her throat, a hoof coming up to cover her muzzle. “Yes, right,” she began, a touch awkwardly. “Those investigators that came to the house worried me. Now, I wanted to put my complete faith in you, but truthfully, I still felt a tickle in the back of my head, fearing that their accusations weren't baseless. I’m sure you can understand that, right?”

Vinyl didn’t look convinced. “You know I woulda believed whatever you said, Octy. I guess we’re just different that way.” Octavia couldn't help but wince at Vinyl's words.

“Regardless,” Octavia continued. “Do you know who Fancy Pants is?” A shake of her head. “Okay, the long and short is that he’s a friend of mine and a very important pony. He’s got connections throughout the city, so I had him do a bit of digging. I got him to go ask some of his friends at the Canterlot Police department if those thugs were telling the truth, or if it were all just a lie. It’s why he came here today, to deliver the news. I swear to you, Vinyl, nothing but your innocence came back. I knew from the start you would be, I trust you, really, but I had to know for sure, especially if I’m going to do anything about those miscreants,” she noted, with a huff.

Vinyl examined Octavia in silence, her eyes pouring over the refined mare, attempting to pierce through any remaining façade. After a tense moment or two, a nod announced that Vinyl had finished her inspection.

“Kay.”

That’s all Vinyl said. A single word. Tartarus, not even a real word, just a single syllable. Vinyl instead decided to speak with actions, leaning forward and pulling Octavia into a hug. Tighter than their last one, it seemed to Octy like Vinyl put all of her emotions into that hug. She could even feel Vinyl’s legs trembling just a tiny bit. Had she really gotten that nervous?

Octavia did suppose she could have said something earlier. Maybe something that would have reassured her new friend without making her wait for a real confrontation. With a sigh and a relaxing of her shoulders, Octavia leaned into the hug as well.

It only lasted a few moments total, even if it felt like so much longer. Eventually, the two would pull away, even if they stayed close. “I’m sorry to worry you. I really am, I didn’t mean to make you stressed or anything like that. I, truth be told, I’ve found myself admiring you a great deal. I think I care for you more than I probably should. Listen to me, I probably sound like a crazy mare,” Octavia noted, with a shake of her head and a little chuckle. “It’s just that I’ve been alone for such a long time, and you’ve been so amazing to have around. I wouldn’t want to worry you, so I wanted to keep all this hidden while I took care of it. I hope you can understand.” Octavia finally looked up, peeking to try and analyze her friend’s expression. Was it too much? It could have been too much.

Vinyl’s eyes stayed half closed and peered right at Octavia, like she stared into her very soul. Even the mare’s ears had gone back, as if she couldn’t decide if she wanted a part of this or not. She raised a hoof, then lowered it again, then opened her muzzle, then closed it again.

Finally, Viny’s twisted up expression gave way to her usually easygoing smile, showing her lovely white teeth. “Y’know, you coulda just made this easier from the start and said you loved me,” Vinyl joked.

Yet, Octavia didn’t laugh. Instead, she blushed a deep red blush that spread across her face and made her ponder Vinyl's words. Did she love Vinyl? She certainly liked the mare. Why, she’d dare to say that she cared for Vinyl like- like what exactly? She didn't have anypony to compare her to. She wasn't like family; Octavia found Vinyl too attractive for that.

All of it begged the question, what did Octavia feel about her friend?Octavia's mind raced as she realized how deeply her feelings towards Vinyl had grown. She might even say that she did love her. But would it be too soon? Would it scare Vinyl off? Those words might scare Vinyl off, a thought that shook Octavia to her core. She never wanted to be alone again; she never wanted to be without Vinyl again.

So it could be desperation. The feeling of finally having a consistent friend and not wanting to let it go. Maybe that explained it, and it had to be better than loving someone she’d just met. Besides, Vinyl didn’t dare to return those feelings, right?

Right?

Octavia didn’t even realize how long she’d stopped talking until Vinyl quite literally tapped her shoulder again. It brought her back to Equestria, just as Vinyl tilted her head to inspect the gray mare all the more closely. “You okay, Octy? I mean, uh, you kinda zoned out there for a second and-”

Octavia cut Vinyl off as her muzzle lurched towards the other mare. It wasn’t graceful, it wasn’t smooth, but it happened. Octavia’s lips pressed against Vinyl’s. They practically smooshed their muzzles together actually, the sudden movement took Vinyl by such surprise, nearly causing her to jump back. But she didn’t. She stayed put and after just a second, well, she just might have kissed back.

As far as first kisses go, this one was rather sloppy actually. But it was a good kiss. It was the manifestation of all of the feelings that had been building between the two. Octavia kept her eyes welded shut, focusing her entire being on savoring the explosive sensation. Only after their lips parted did Octavia open her eyes to take in the mare across from her.

It took her a second to recollect herself. Octavia gasped for air as her heart pounded in her throat. She swallowed hard, trying to force herself to calm down as she stared on towards her friend.

Vinyl simply stood there, shocked as could be. Those ruby red eyes were wide and so full of emotion it looked like they might just burst. Her muzzle remained parted, astonished at what had just happened.

“I hope that wasn’t too much,” Octavia began with trepidation. She felt the rush die down as fear took over. She began to think that she had ruined their relationship on a mere impulse. Her eyes darted continuously from the ground to Vinyl's face, trying to catch a hint of the white mare's feelings.

“It’s,” Vinyl started uneasily, “It’s fine.” With a nervous chuckle, Vinyl muttered, "I think I liked it." “Tavi, you know I was jokin’ with the whole love thing, right? I mean, I admire your, uh, determination, but that was- wow. I didn’t expect that.” Vinyl continued to laugh while shaking her head as if she were trying to shake away her own embarrassment.

But really, Octavia should be embarrassed, not Vinyl! After all, Octavia initiated, she started all of it. Vinyl just stood there and accepted it. But she really hadn’t had she? Vinyl had returned it, not just accepted it, and that meant something else entirely. "I'm so sorry, Vinyl," Octavia stuttered, "What you said just got me thinking, and before I knew it, I realized I wanted to kiss you. Am I being stupid? I’m probably being stupid, but you’re amazing Vinyl. I know that this is all too sudden, isn't it?"

A hoof waved in answer to the question, another shake of Vinyl’s head. “Hey, hey, it’s cool. I get it, I know I’m pretty awesome, right? Shit, Tavi, I didn’t expect to wake up to this. Hell of a rollercoaster today, isn’t it?” Vinyl asked, her easygoing smile spread across her muzzle once again.

Octavia rubbed at the back of her neck, embarrassment and worry still twin dragons nesting inside of her head. At least Vinyl didn't seem mad, which was the best Octavia dared to hope for. “We should probably talk about this, shouldn’t we? I don’t want to make this weird between us.”

Her companion answered with a 'hmm.' Was that alright? Could Octavia consider Vinyl her 'companion,' or was that too presumptuous? “Yea, alright. How about you treat me to lunch and we can talk about it there, yea?” Vinyl asked, "Although usually the lunch comes before the kiss," Vinyl laughed, giving Octavia a light, teasing jab to the side.

What a big step for the mare who hadn’t wanted to leave the house for fear of getting caught just a while ago! Already wanting to go out for lunch, even if Octavia did notice the worry hiding behind the happiness in Vinyl’s eyes. The way she carried herself always changed when she worried, she’d slump a bit more than usual and let her tail hang, Octavia couldn’t miss it if she tried.

“Absolutely. Why don't you get your jacket and we'll go somewhere close. How about Neighponeese?" she proposed. Octavia’s smile had come back and her worries and embarrassment began to melt away. Better.

Author's Notes:

I know, I know, it's been forever and this one is on the shorter side. I'm still working on getting back into this, so give me a bit haha.

Feels nice to be back.

A Prelude to Darkness

A week passed. Then two. Then a third just as quickly. Suddenly, it’d been a full two months and life had gone on. Octavia and Vinyl’s relationship deepened all the more, the two of them no longer quite so scared to go out together. They’d even started saying they were marefriends, and Octavia introduced Vinyl as such. For the reticent, reclusive mare Octavia, that step had felt massive, but she couldn’t help but smile as she remembered the first time she’d done it.

Things quieted down. The ‘private investigators’, whoever they were, didn’t come around again. Vinyl’s past life didn’t come back to bite her, though Fancy didn’t discover anything more about the ‘who’ that chased them. Then again, it didn’t matter anymore. Not when Vinyl and Octavia lived a life that few dreamed to hold. The two went on dates, went to the opera, played music together, and could simply enjoy each other’s company.

Their intimacy grew all the while. The first kiss opened the flood gates as it were, spiling forth all sorts of affection that Octavia hadn’t dared to dream would be her own. They kissed, they snuggled, every accidental touch felt magical. While the two of them hadn’t taken ‘the plunge’ so to speak, Octavia couldn’t possibly be happier if she tried. Things went well for once, both in her personal and professional life. Apparently, her playing had gone through something of a renaissance, flawless and inventive at the same time. Perhaps having a source of inspiration helped with that.

Like all good things, their happiness eventually found itself interrupted. A certain weekend day ended with them at a night club, drinking and laughing their cares away. “You are a hell of a dancer, Vinyl! Where in the world did you learn how to do stuff like that?” Octavia asked, looking sidelong at her companion as they walked the dark streets. The two of them dressed to the nines, Octavia in a glimmering, slinky purple dress and Vinyl in a snazzy two piece, blue suit to match her mane.

“You know, here or there,” Vinyl answered, as casual as could be. “I spent a lot of time in clubs just like that growing up. I may have, uh, snuck in before I could legally get in there. You know, no harm no foul, right?” The question would be accompanied with a half grin and a small jab to Octavia’s side, teasing and nothing more. The two of them finally reached the small garden path towards Octavia’s home, familiar territory and a sign that they could sleep soon. Octavia already looked forward to sleeping beside her love.

The grey pony laughed, shaking her head to and fro. “Your brazenness never surprises me, dear,” she cooed, the hint of affection, of care, ever so obvious in the way she spoke. “Some day, you’re going to have to-”

Octavia’s words died in her throat, if only because she’d seen her house as they managed to get halfway down the path. Red paint, or what she hoped was paint, stained the front of her house in a big, red X. The two front windows, beautiful, bay windows lay shattered across the ground, broken into pieces. On the front doorstep, a canvas bag stained red rested, waiting for the two ponies to return home.

She couldn’t speak, not with the horror right in front of her face. For a second, Octavia’s muzzle worked without anything coming out. Vinyl reacted first in the end, her magic surrounding the canvas bag and instantly throwing it into Octavia’s trash can. It went with quite a bit of vitriol, the top of the can yanked open, the bag thrown down, and the top slammed shut. Only as the noise rang through the night did Octavia finally manage to recover from her stupid.

“Vinyl, what’s-” Once more, she’d be interrupted, this time by Vinyl starting to drag her along, looking to pull her away from the path and back onto the street. She let it happen.

Vinyl glanced over her shoulder as the light spilled onto the pair once more, streetlights illuminating the two of them and leaving them in their own little world of light. “We need to leave, Octavia. We need to find somewhere else to sleep tonight. Do you have enough money to get security for your house?” she asked. Vinyl’s expression and cadence had changed. It was perverted from that carefree, loving expression and happy joy she’d had just a few moments ago. Instead, the mare looked panicked, eyes set in a hard, cold glare as she searched for whoever had done this. It didn’t look like she’d actually find someone.

After all, who would stay after doing something like this? “I- maybe?” Octavia answered, her mind spinning at a million miles a second just to catch up. “I know somewhere we can go! Fancy Pants lives a couple blocks down, I-I can take us there.” It wouldn’t be a far walk, and if Fancy couldn’t give them shelter, she didn’t know who could.

Vinyl nodded, offering a smile even if it did look stressed, and a bit frantic. “Okay, good, good. Lead the way, Octy. Be quick. These people don’t mess around, not when they-”

This time, Octavia interrupted Vinyl. “Who are these people!?” Octavia asked. Panic flared through her, tail lashing behind her with every breath, ears back on her head. “Who would do this to my house, Vinyl? Who would do this?” She leaned forward, invading Vinyl's personal space and getting deathly close to the other mare.

Vinyl’s ears pressed back and she withdrew, looking like she’d coiled up from the worry. “I’ll explain everything, Octy, I swear. Just get use to Fancy’s first, it’s not safe here.”

She wouldn’t get off that easily. For a few seconds, Octavia kept her gaze locked on Vinyl’s, as if staring in to her very soul. Eventually, she nodded her head, a brisk, quick nod. Octavia turned on her hooves, stomping her way towards Fancy’s house, leading them back towards the sidewalk. “You better have some answers for me, or I swear to Celestia-”

It seemed the night had interruptions to spare, as Vinyl took her turn at it. “What? You’re going to kick me out? You’re gonna do what exactly? I can leave if you want! I can leave right now!”

Now that, that gave Octavia pause, even stopping again in the middle of the street. She turned, eyes gone sad, ears drooping rather than back. Vinyl had stopped a couple feet behind her, leaving more distance between the two of them then there had been in weeks “I- Nothing. I’m not going to do anything. I’m just emotional right now, I think that’s perfectly understandable given the circumstances!” At some point, the grey mare’s voice rose a few octaves, tail flicking back and forth fast as a hurricane.

Only a grimace answered her at first. Vinyl even took a step back, moving away from Octavia. Eventually, she sighed, glancing down at her own hooves. “No, no, that’s fair. Look, let’s just get to your friend’s house and then we can talk, alright? Please, just give me that.”

A nod, a look measuring her partner carefully. “Okay, let’s get to Fancy’s.” And that would be that.

The rest of the trip would be spent in silence. On the clip clop of their hooves as well as the sound of labored breathing filled the air. Octavia fumed, not just because her house suffered, but because Vinyl kept something from her, something so important and potentially dangerous. Had she not realized how much this could come back to hurt them? She’d have to talk about it.

Vinyl trotted along with her head and tail both drooping down as far as they could go. Luckily, the trip didn’t last long. A few blocks, two or three total, and they’d find themselves at the steps of a veritable mansion. Fancy’s house inside of Canterlot practically had its own block and looked as traditional as they came. White marble edifice, gargoyle like structures on top, and it’s own garden path entryway. Not much of it could be seen this late at night, though small magic lights lit the path towards the door.

Octavia knocked. Two quick knocks, the two mares left to awkwardly wait on the doorstep. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the door to be opened, but it wouldn’t be Fancy, instead a stallion in a butler’s uniform, one conveniently named Butler from what Octavia remembered.

It also seemed like he remembered her. “Miss Philharmonic. Isn’t it a bit late for a visit?” Haughty, a little stuck up, the same old Butler as usual.

“Is Fancy home? I have a personal request of him, one private in nature.” Octavia responded in kind, all the high class folks talked in the same way, like a game in a way.

A nod first, and then an actual answer. “Sir Pants is home tonight, though he isn’t accepting visitors currently.” Then, begrudgingly: “But perhaps he’d make an exception for you. Please, come and sit. I’ll fetch Sir Pants.”

The foyer hadn’t changed from the last time Octavia came over. Hardwood floors, bright colored walls, a wonderful, Ponysian rug in the center and a wide couch with two chairs on each side of a low coffee table. Every high class home had the same look, and Fancy’s didn’t deviate from the standard.

Vinyl took her seat first, stiffly, awkwardly, but settling in after a few seconds. Naturally, Octavia took the chair across from her lover, the tension thick enough to be cut with a knife.

The silence didn’t last forever. “Octy, I’m sorry,” Vinyl blurted out, shifting in her seat. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, I didn’t want you to be in danger or any of that. It’s why I tried to disappear the first day, but-”

“Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier?” Octavia interrupted. The hurt still echoed strongly, the short time of the walk not washing away all the betrayal, all the shock not going away.

Again, Vinyl shifted, scooting around like the chair was made out of stone. “Because, I was worried. And I thought that since nothing had happened, maybe they would finally leave me alone! I- I haven’t had anypony actually care for so long, I just wanted to actually have somepony for at least a little bit. I’m sorry, Octy, I’m so sorry that it ended up coming to this. I never thought it would! I thought we’d have more time and-”

Octavia kept having to interrupt, if only because Vinyl seemed like she’d ramble all night otherwise. “Look, it happened. We have to get passed that, it happened and there’s nothing that can be done about that. But, we can do something about the future. Vinyl, you need to tell me who these people are. You need to tell me what’s happening, I need to know. If I keep having to flounder around in the dark, nothing is going to change and we’re just going to be targets again. You realize that, right? Let me help. Let Fancy help. You have people who care about you know, okay?” Octavia had started the words in a huff and ended them in a near whisper, the fire in her heart dulling into worry and concern instead.

And Vinyl recognized that. Octavia could tell by the way she sat up a little more, by the way Vinyl looked at her more directly instead of looking like tears were on the horizon. “Okay. Okay, we can talk about it. I swear.”

The sound of somepony clearing their throat drew the pairs’ attention towards one of the doors that connected the foyer to the rest of the mansion. Fancy stood, still in a nightcap and all, a bit rankled but with a small smile etched on his face. “Well, I do hope that I can be privy to this conversation as well. How can I help?” he asked.

Octavia let herself smile: this had to work.

Author's Notes:

Due to uhh vacation, I couldn't really edit this chapter. Pls yell at me if it's weird.

Chapter 11 is halfway written already too :)

A Shelter From the Storm

The three of them gathered around the table as if they planned for a war. Naturally, tea had been provided for the ponies, and Octavia sipped lightly at hers as they finally settled in. “You know I’m always happy to have you over, Octavia, but I have to admit, I never expect to see you this late,” Fancy admitted with a good natured chuckle. “If it’s not too much, perhaps you’d be kind enough to explain why you’re here?” The stallion glanced between the two mares as he asked the question, letting either of the two answer.

The two shared a look, one that Octavia recognized as Vinyl pleading for her to take the lead. With a silent nod, she acquiesced. She did know Fancy better, after all. “The two of us went out tonight, like we often do. It was something of a date, you see. But, when the two of us came home, my house had been vandalized. My windows were broken, and a big, red X had been painted-”

“Wasn’t paint,” Vinyl mumbled, looking down at her own lap. “Blood, not paint.”

Octavia paused, blinking in confusion and giving herself a quick moment to regain her bearings before continuing. “Well, blood it was, then. Regardless, I think you can understand why we couldn’t stay there. Frankly, you were the first pony I thought of. I’ve always trusted you and I hope we can find solace in your house. Of course, I also perfectly understand if you’d prefer to keep trouble off your doorstep, I get that it’s something of a problem.”

Octavia glanced down once she’d finished her words, inclining her head in something close to subservience, the polite way to ask a favor of someone knighted. Out of the corner of her eye, Octavia could see Fancy wave his hoof, dismissing the gesture offhand. “You can stay here for as long as you need. Octavia, you are my friend and I care for you a great deal. And any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Both of you will always be welcome in my home,” Fancy assured her.

The words lit up Octavia’s spirits, letting her smile more readily and lifting her up enough to shoot a comforting glance Vinyl’s way. Fear and worry gripped her heart, but that didn’t mean she should treat her friends badly, right?

“I do, however, need to know what’s going on. I believe I heard you asking the same question, didn’t I, Octavia?” he asked, looking towards the gray mare again.

“Well, yes. We were just about to talk about that. I asked earlier, but Vinyl mentioned that it would not be safe to talk about outside. I think that Fancy’s kindness and my love deserve answers, don’t you, dear?” She asked.

Finally, the attention fell on Vinyl, and Octavia could see clear as day she hadn’t been looking forward to that. She even gulped, stereotypical as could be, almost movie-esque but absolutely there.
“I, um,” she began, apparently finding it difficult to get the right words. “My parents have some bad connections. You know, ponies like the mob, that sort of thing. They’ve never really been too involved until a couple years ago,” she began. The mare took a small pause, enough to swallow again and fidget again in her seat. She still looked down, but at least now she seemed a bit more comfortable

“When I turned thirteen, things started to get pretty bad. My dad isn’t like, a fuckin’ don or anything, but he had started to get pretty high up. Anyways, my parents wanted me to start getting involved in the family business, right? Like, what the fuck’s with that? I was thirteen, all I wanted to do was bang on my piano and stuff.” Vinyl sniffled and shook her head, tears already stinging at the edges of her eyes.

“The thing is, they didn’t really start slow. They called the first thing a test of loyalty or something like that. My mom tried to make it seem okay, like it would be real fast and then no more problems ever again, but I could tell by the way dad looked at me that it wouldn’t be like that. So, they wanted me to go with them to rob a bank. It was supposed to be sorta lowkey, you know, in and out real quick. But like, what bank robbery ever works out like that!?”

Vinyl had to take a few deep breaths before she could continue. “Anyways, we did it. We went to a bank, they held up the bankers with magic, all that sort of thing. I collected the money, stuffed it all into a couple bags and then we were ready to go. Easy peasy, right? But no, we got followed. We got tailed by some of Canterlot’s finest and-”

Vinyl buried her head in hooves, a sniffle going through her again. Octavia’s heart panged, and up she went. She softly moved over towards Vinyl, leaning against the side of the mare’s chair and looking to carefully rub her lover’s back. The unicorn tensed, then peeked from behind her curtain of hair to see who had touched her and smiled a wobbly smile, sitting back upright even as tears clearly stung at her eyes.

“If this is too difficult, perhaps we could come back to this?” Fancy proposed. The noble looked genuinely concerned, a trait that Octavia liked about him; he really did care.

But Vinyl shook her head, wiping her eyes one last time as she steeled herself. “I can take it,” she assured, even though her voice was hoarse. Octavia stayed by her side, continuing with her soft rubs and massaging, trying to keep Vinyl under control.

“The royal guard caught up to us. It was a bloodbath. All the fighting was just horrific, and there wasn’t anything I could do about it. Eventually, I ran. I didn’t stay and help, I dropped the fucking bags and ran. As far and as fast as I could. When I finally got home…” Vinyl trailed off, swallowing hard to keep her tears down. “My parents called me a coward. They demanded that I do something to repay what we lost in the fight. They wanted to have me go on another job, and this one would be more dangerous! I couldn’t stay, I packed everything I could and ran. Ever since then, I’ve just lived on the streets.

“But they wouldn’t leave me alone! They kept sending people to harass me, to try and come back. And after years of saying no over and over again, they tried to kill me. I think, I think that’s what the two ponies you saw were, Octy. I think they’re employed by my parents, and I don’t think they just wanna kill me anymore. They want it to be bad,” she finished in a whisper, head hanging back down.

Silence reigned for a moment lost in time. Neither Fancy nor Octavia could process everything at once. Instead, the massaging continued on with a quiet peace. Octavia could only speak for herself, but she never expected something like this. Now that she knew, she could only feel heartbreak. It made sense, finally. It made sense that the investigators had looked so realistic, especially when they had mob money behind them. It had to be why Vinyl never stopped moving. And now here they were, hiding with a friend.

The stallion was the first of the three to speak. “Well, Vinyl, that is quite the story, but I am assured that you wouldn’t lie to me, much less Octavia. I am vaguely aware of the type of ponies you speak of, and appeasing them is not easy. However, I can also assure you that you will be safe in my house. I’ve employed a private security firm for quite a while, and I’ll simply increase my contract for now. You two are welcome to stay here for as long as necessary.”

It didn’t seem like Vinyl could talk, not since she’d started to cry again, burying her head in her hooves and letting the tears flow. That left Octavia to do the talking. “Thank you, Fancy, I fear we’re going to have to infringe on your generosity for quite a while. Perhaps it may be safe to return home when it’s light out, but only to fetch things. I… I have to admit, I never thought I would actually feel unsafe in my own home, but here I am,” she tried to joke, but only succeeded in earning a wince from herself.

Fancy sighed and gave a small nod. “I’ll have an escort prepared for you in the morning. Until then, I think it’s well past time the two of you got some rest. It’s been a long night. Shall I have two rooms prepared?” The stallion stopped to look between the two mares. “Or just one? I can imagine having each other would be something of a comfort during nights like these,” he offered, smile growing kind.

With her hoof still rubbing ever so gently at Vinyl’s head, Octavia knew the answer. “One, please. It’ll be enough for us. Besides, we’d hardly want to impose on your good will any more than we already are.”

The stallion stood from his spot, his gaze pitying. “I’ll have your room prepared. Just a few minutes, I’ll be right back.” With that, the two were alone once more.

Alone and with a crying mare, Octavia didn’t quite know what to do. She leaned in close, whispering into Vinyl’s ear. “It’s gonna be okay, I promise. I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, dear. You’re going to be safe and we’re going to get this all figured out, I promise. I still want you to stay with me, none of this matters.”

A peeking, ruby red eye looked back at her. “Really? Even with knowing who I am?” Octavia couldn’t see Vinyl’s face as she spoke, but those words were so filled with horror, hope, and sadness all at once, she nearly teared up as well.

Octavia nodded and nuzzled close, resting her head against Vinyl’s neck. “Always. I’m not going to leave you. I don’t care where you’re from or who your parents were. I really don’t care about any of that. The only thing I care about is you,” she cooed, planting a soft, wet kiss against the base of Vinyl’s ear.

Slowly, incredibly slowly at first, Vinyl started to come out of the shell she’d withdrawn into. She sat up, eyes red and hair draping down in strange, unkempt ways. She sniffled hard and wiped the back of her hoof against her eyes, rubbing them and trying to get herself under control again. “Okay,” she whispered.

It had been an ordeal. The night had left Octavia feeling more drained than she ever had felt. Even four hours of orchestra couldn’t compare to their mad dash across the city. “Can you stand up, dear? Fancy shouldn’t be long. We can go get cleaned up and get some sleep. Do you want a bath? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind if you ran one,” she proposed, nosing at Vinyl where she could, coaxing her out of her ball.

Vinyl nodded, nibbling at her lip for a second before nodding again. “That’d be nice. I’m really tired, Octy. But, I think a bath would be really nice. Could you, um, stay outside the door? I just don’t want you to be far.”

Octavia’s heart swelled. She could do that. She could actually help, and that might make all the difference in the world. “Of course,” she assured her, punctuating the words with another gentle nuzzle.

As if on cue, Fancy stepped back into the room, the clopping of his hooves against the ground announcing his arrival.. “You room is ready, ladies. Come on, let’s get you two settled.”

After the long, hectic night, a good night’s sleep would do wonders. The two fell asleep nearly the instant they touched the bed. With such a long day behind them, their rest would be dreamless and unbroken.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

Author's Notes:

Btw I have a twitter where I talk about my life and stories I write sometimes. It's mildly nsfw, so click if you want: https://twitter.com/Astor_Coruscare

As always, see any typos? Pls tell me!

A Quick Nap

Fancy set a course of action. First, he ensured the two that a member of his security detail would always be with them. Sure, one pony could only do so much, but even the smallest of deterrence could mean the difference between life and death. It would be accompanied by a broader search, a few questions asked in the right places. The inquiring would take time, but Fancy knew ponies: the head of the royal guard, the local police precinct captain, and even a few ponies in the mob business themselves. One thing rang true no matter what class or pony you were: you knew of Fancy and you probably liked him.

That isn’t to say that Fancy knew all. He had his enemies, especially since he oft found himself in political positions. So any steps after just asking around and talking would have to be done lightly. Last, but not least, Fancy sent a couple of stallions over to help repair the damage to Octavia’s home.

All that covered most of the morning, leaving Vinyl and Octavia the afternoon to themselves, with one caveat. They absolutely mustn’t leave the house for any circumstances. To them, that meant ‘don’t leave the bed for any circumstances’.

The two had spent most of their time since Fancy left snuggled up in bed, Octavia wrapped around Vinyl and holding her close to her chest. Little was said between the two, the silence comforting in a way. Occasional checks of ‘are you okay?’ and ‘still scared?’ traded back and forth, but no more.

At some point, likely the morning, a pony brought them breakfast. They shared it together without much talking, bleary eyes and fuzzy brains cutting off any conversation before it could truly begin. Even so, life started to spur back into being, the warm food, close company, and comfort of the room bringing them back into consciousness.

Octavia leaned against Viny’s shoulder, head resting against her lover with eyes still closed. “Are you worried?” she asked, words quiet, tender. She could feel the stress biting at herself, clawing at her stomach like an animal in a cage. Of course she’d be worried. They had powerful ponies chasing them, looking for Vinyl.

Octavia could feel the nodding. What did she expect, really? “Yea. But, I mean, it’s not like they’ve caught me yet. They gotta be pretty dumb to have not got one girl, right?” she asked, with a chuckle that didn’t quite sound ‘right’.

Still, Octavia laughed with her. It felt good in a weird way, refreshing after all the terror of the last few days. Probably just chemical, but nice nonetheless. “Mhm. You’re going to be fine. We’re going to be fine,” she repeated. The two were linked now, and despite the trepidation, Octavia didn’t intend to let her go. “But we probably should get up, shouldn’t we? We can only laze about in Fancy’s comfort for so long,” she noted.

Fancy’s generosity was legendary, but even he would have limits. Then again, Octavia imagined that they’d hit her limit for mooching off somepony else long before they hit Fancy’s limit.

With a groan, Vinyl rolled over in the bed. She flopped onto her back for a second and then rolled once more, plopping onto the ground and landing on all four hooves in one fluid motion. “You’re right, you’re right. We could at least go see if he needs help or something. Maybe I could just play the piano for him again. He really liked that. Celestia, I’m tired of doing all the old instruments,” she complained.

Which brought up a question, didn’t it? One that Octavia had yet to ask. “What do you want to do, Vinyl? As in, what do you dream of?” she asked. The mare pulled herself out of the bed as well, closing the gap between the two of them and inspecting Vinyl closely.

That’s how you truly measured a soul. What did they want to do with their lives? With such an important question, Octavia expected gravitas. She expected Vinyl to take this as seriously as she had, as serious as a life. But no, typical Vinyl to laugh about it.

Vinyl shook her head, tossing that lovely blue mane of hers with a giggle, stepping away and waving a hoof at Octavia.“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. I’ll do whatever pays enough to live,” she retorted, with a grin that smiled a few too many teeth to be genuine. “Dreams are for ponies that are born rich enough to be able to pursue them. Us common folk, or those of us without a silver spoon,” she teased, before going on, “can’t really think about that kind of thing much. Ain’t worth considering when you know it’s never going to happen.”

“How… defeatist,” Octavia blurted out before she could stop herself, with no small amount of disdain on her tone.

A ‘pffft’ interrupted anything else she could say. “Oh, don’t play, Octy. I’ve seen your house, you don’t have to pretend that you weren’t one of the ones that got a free ride to do whatever they wanted. Hey, I don’t hold that against you, or any of that shit. I think it’s just important that you recognize it, ya dig?” she asked, reaching a hoof out and casually, lightly flicking Octavia’s snout.

Octavia wrinkled her nose up, absent-mindedly touching it with her own paw. She frowned all the deeper, not pleased at all with how this conversation had gone. “But you don’t really have to do that now, do you?” she asked. “You live with me. You have the time to actually follow your dreams and to live your life to the fullest. Don’t you want to?”

What came next felt like a dagger in her heart. Vinyl inspected her with the most curious of
looks before shrugging. “We probably won’t last. Like, no offense, you’re amazing and all that jazz, but ponies like us never last. We’re too different and we don’t really like, know each other yet. Do you really think it would be fair for me to start basing my life off you being there and then we break up?”

It hurt because Vinyl told the truth. It hurt because Octavia knew that they may not last but she so desperately wanted them to. Maybe they hadn’t been together long enough for that to string, but it did nonetheless.

Octavia sniffled, tears welling at the edges of her eyes. Yea, it hurt. She looked down at her own hooves and swallowed hard, working to keep the emotions in check. “I never really wanted to think of it that way,” she admitted. The words came out raw and choked up, even the most oblivious of ponies could have read her emotions.

Which meant that Vinyl actually realized how much she’d hurt Octavia. “Aw, Tartarus,” she cursed, Octavia able to hear the unicorn’s light groan. She’d feel a hoof being thrown around shoulders, Vinyl holding Octavia close.

Not enough. Not even close to enough. Not when the hurt wanted to nestle so close to her heart. “I understand,” she whispered. She did. She understood. But that didn’t make it feel okay. “I do. I know how hard things have been and we really haven’t been together for very long.” Talking about it did almost speak it into reality, and nuzzling back against the soft, white fur beside her helped as well.

Perhaps the volatility of their current situation affected her. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have gotten emotional. Everything here is just… confusing. My life feels like it’s been turned upside down in no time. I just don’t want to think about that right now.”

“Well, how about I tell you a story, then?” Vinyl volunteered. “Sit back down, lemme tell you a story. How about, uh..” Vinyl clearly couldn’t think of anything to say. “How about the time I discovered a new type of music?” While she talked, Vinyl slowly guided Octavia back towards the bed, setting her on top of their messy, unmade sheets.

Octavia let herself get moved on over, plopping back down and laying on her side amidst all the softness. “You invented a new type of music?” she asked, arching an eyebrow up in suspicion. The sniffles still came and Octavia did have to wipe her eyes free of the budding tears, but thinking about something else would surely help.

Besides, anything that started with music between the two of them would surely go somewhere wonderful. “Oh, yea, of course. Not a complete accident either!” Vinyl decreed, chuckling while she took the seat right beside Octavia. “You know how most people, like, just play instruments? Or they play them together in a band with a singer? That sort of thing?”

Octavia nodded.

“Well, I didn’t have a band growing up, but I still wanted to make some cool shit. So, I got creative. My parents, assholes that they were, did have some cool new tech. You know there are mixers now that you can use to ‘synthesize’ different instruments?”

Octavia tilted her head to the side, not having heard of that before. “What… what do you mean synthesize?” she asked. She hadn’t heard the term before and the confusion on her face showed that.

Vinyl tilted her head, letting out a quiet ‘hmm’ noise.”You’re kidding, right? I thought you were, like, the goddess of music or something?” she asked, delicately bumping against Octavia’s shoulder in a teasing way. “But yea, it’s some pretty new stuff. Bright side of your parents being in the fuckin’ mob and all, but I did get some technology earlier than I probably should have. You ever seen a DJ with turntables? Or, uh, a mixing station?” she asked, prodding and poking for more answers.

And yet, even with the extra detail, Octavia didn’t feel any closer to the answer. “No, I don’t think I have. I hate to bring the topic back up, dear, but this does sound dangerously close to a passion, does it not?” Octavia looked over with a smug knowing expression.

“Pfft, oh cut that out,” Vinyl chastised, going as far as to lightly boop the point of Octavia’s snout. “I mean, it sorta is. I liked it, you know? I played the piano and then I added some electronic elements and… Well, it ended up being a great blend. A sort of uh, marriage between the classical aspect and something you can really shake your tail too!” Vinyl’s grin had grown while she talked and the sheer enthusiasm practically radiated off of the other mare. The two together felt warm

“You know you’re going to have to show me that sometime now, right?” Octavia asked. She looped her hoof around Vinyl’s shoulders, pulling her close so the two snuggled up tight. “You’ve brought it out of the bag and now you have to share.”

Vinyl leaned back into the cuddle, the two getting comfortable on the bed again. Maybe they wouldn’t be getting up to find Fancy anytime soon. “Yea, yea, okay. But you’re going to have to get me some equipment, and this does not count as a passion,” she restated. The words were accompanied with quite the pointed look.

Octavia chuckled and closed her eyes, her own despair and worry had started to melt away, the pleasant talk more than enough to make the existential dread disappear. “Not a passion, sure. But if nothing else, it would make me happy to see what you can do,” she cooed. Her free hoof rested on top of one of Vinyl’s, the hidden tears drying up.

“Let’s do it,” Vinyl agreed. “Wanna, uh, take a nap for a bit more? I just wanna hold you for a little longer,” Vinyl admitted, a bright, red blush on her muzzle.

And so, they did.

Author's Notes:

I'm pretty out of it. Sorry this took so long.

A Flash of Fear

For the most part, things returned to normal. A couple of days passed and the two returned to Octavia’s home. Albeit, with a suite of bodyguards and the like, but still the house the two had come to call home together.

And then, weeks passed. Just a couple, but the feeling of ordinary days bled back into their lives. Octavia went to work, played for rich ponies. Their dates started again - the park, out to eat, museums, even a trip up the Matterhorn mountain. All the while, the two grew closer. Soft touches become all the more sweet, lovely looks lasted seconds longer.

For Octavia, things couldn’t have gone better. Even her music had started to come easily, a new melody in her head each and every day. And the joy she found from writing it out, from playing it, and even collaborating with Vinyl? Unmatched. Quite literally nothing made her happier, nothing made her more excited about life.

Today would truly be something special. Six months. Six months since they’d met each other, and Octavia intended to make something special out of it. She’d picked up a few things, a nice hay steak in her saddlebags, wrapped tight to keep it fresh. She wanted to try cooking - she didn’t do it much, but she might as well try, right? Really, it couldn’t be that hard!

Octavia smiled widely, prepared to wave and greet the guard ponies near her gate like normal. But, where were they? Probably the change of shift. Still, that wouldn’t be enough to dampen her mood! She headed towards her house, walking on up without a care in the world. It took her a moment to fish out her key, and another second to slot it in and open her door on up.

The moment she stepped inside, Octavia knew something had gone wrong. No noise echoed through the house, not a single peep. Usually, when Octavia came home,Vinyl would be waiting for her near the entrance. Or, if she wasn’t, she’d be off somewhere in the house making music, and making it loud enough that Octavia could pinpoint her exact location. But today? Nothing.

It only took another second for the rest to start to filter in. The foyer was a wreck: chaise lounge overturned, chairs broken in twain, mirror shattered. A dripping trail of blood even painted a picture, a picture of a pony struggling and then being forcefully taken from her home.

A wave of terror erupted. Her muzzle hung open and tears started to well up in her eyes. Numbly, she stepped through the carnage. It just kept going, farther and deeper into her house. The living room? Trashed. The kitchen? A mess of thrown plates and knives. Her bedroom? Untouched. Thankfully, remarkably, untouched. “Vinyl?” she called out, as loud as her scared, trembling voice let her.

“Vinyl?” she called again. No answer. “Vinyl?” she said louder. “Vinyl?” She galloped between rooms. “Vinyl!?” Desperation rooted at her heart, but there was no answer, why was there no answer?!

Octavia felt sick. Nausea welled up in her throat, and it was nearly too much to bear. She found herself sitting against her bed, the world spinning around her. What could she do? Her breath came quick and deep, practically heaving with every gasp of air the poor thing managed to get in. She closed her eyes, the tears flowing all the more unfettered.

“She can’t be gone.” The words come out as nothing more than a hopeful whisper. Maybe she’d missed something. Maybe she had forgotten something important. If the house hadn’t been ruined, Octavia might have believed her own stupid thoughts.

Octavia didn’t know how long she sat on the edge of her bed. It could have been hours, or it could have only been minutes. So enraptured in her own thoughts, the pony didn’t know what to do with herself. Only the rumbling need in her stomach coaxed her back into the real world, and even that came slowly.

At the first sound of her tummy, Octavia looked down at it, surprised, hardly expecting the noise. She opened her muzzle, ready to make some quip, some joke to her love. She silenced herself the second she remembered the truth of the situation.

Octavia needed a plan of action. Something to do, something to keep her mind from falling apart completely. Fancy could help, Fancy could always help. But if his guards had abandoned their posts… perhaps the most generous pony in Canterlot worked with the same ne’er do wells that took her love.

Maybe paranoia kept her from going to Fancy. Maybe she knew the truth. But regardless, she needed to go further up the chain. But unlike many of her counterparts, Octavia couldn’t just walk up to a princess, or a captain of the guard, or anything like that.

But she’d given herself a chance to make that happen. The charity dinner, the same one she’d set up to play weeks ago. Anypony who was anypony would be there, and that meant precious access for Octavia.

Her hooves stopped trembling. She didn’t know when they had, but they had. They’d stopped trembling — and in fear’s place, icy resolve started to set in. No pony would take Vinyl from her. She’d burn the entire city down if she had to. Octavia had a lead.

She took a deep breath and stood to her full height, fire burning in her eyes. “Vinyl is mine,” she whispered, and she meant it. Octavia didn’t amount to much. Just a musician, a lonely earth pony who didn’t have many, if any friends. But a single mare with motivation could do a lot of damage, and damned if she didn’t intend to.

Octavia had to set some things in motion. She found herself leaving the house, trotting on a path she’d walked a thousand times - the path towards the symphony hall, the Royal Symphony’s preferred playing venue. Octavia didn’t know if other ponies walked near her, too focused, too honed in to even think about it. She walked with the purpose of a furious mare, each step clip clopping against the street, eyes dead ahead.

The security pony let her in just from looking at her. She’d certainly come here enough that anypony would know she belonged. The symphony hall itself didn’t just have a single auditorium. The greatest, largest part of it opened up onto a stage big enough for a full orchestra, or a play full of ponies. Plenty of seats ringed around the stage, boxes around the second floor to provide access to VIPs.

But Octavia didn’t head towards her familiar home. Instead, she hung a left from the foyer, towards a grand ballroom. Inside, a smaller stage hugged the far end, a white marble floor expanse stretching across the space. Columns supported the side, going for a neo classical look with the typical stained glass style on the side. The stained glass scenes painted all sorts of different scenes - some of the princesses, some of the arts, and some of just life. Great drapes hung on each side of the windows, kept to the side and a striking violet in color.

As expected, the space had already started to get decorated. A long table, covered in a white tablecloth stayed off to one side, one surely that would be filled with snacks and drinks of all sorts soon. A group of ponies gathered around a small table in the middle, papers strewn out on the desk. The planning committee.

The rest of the ballroom fell out of her attention, the mare instead stepping across the hall with all the confidence of a woman who owned the space. Each step rang out through the room, clip clopping loud enough to even draw the attention of a few of the committee. Most, she didn’t know, but a few she recognized. One, a white pegasus mare with purple ballon cutie marks and a striking blonde mane, in particular. Surprise had been her… acquaintance for a while. The two helped each other out in different ways. They couldn’t be called friends, but they were close.

Close enough that the mare smiled a bright, happy smile as she closed the distance between them, meeting her half way. “Tavi!” she squealed out, throwing both arms and wings around the mare’s shoulders. “It’s been so long! I thought you were- hey, why aren’t you smiling?” the mare complained, instantly releasing her friend. “What’s wrong?”

She tried to smile, Octavia really had, but it wouldn’t come out. Not with what went on in her mind and all the feelings swirling inside of her. “I’m here mostly on business, Surprise. I’m sorry, we really must hang out sometime, but I’m afraid I have a very pressing matter to discuss with you. Could we, perhaps, talk without others around?”

Surprise inspected her for a second, but quickly nodded. “Okay!” she chirped. Without another word, the pegasus mare put a wing around Octavia, leading her to the far corner of the ballroom, far, far away from the rest of the planners. “So is there some secret surprise party you’re planning?” she asked, leaning in and speaking in a conspiratorial whisper.

That pegasus always could see the best in things, couldn’t she? “No, no, nothing like that. I know it’s taboo and against the rules, but is there, perhaps, any way I could see the guest list for the gala this weekend? Or, if not that, ask if a few select ponies are going to be there?” she asked. At the same time, Octavia glanced over her shoulder, looking back towards the other ponies. They seemed engrossed in their own conversation, good enough.

A frown wrinkled Surprise’s muzzle and she shook her head back and forth. “I’m sorry, but I can’t disclose party guests! Doing that would make my surprise party promise (patent pending) forever! But, hmm…” Her brow furrowed in thought, muzzle twisting in a shape that Octavia swore no other mare could quite get right.

A sigh escaped the gray mare. She’d expected that, if nothing else, Surprise always had her honor, even if it made absolutely no sense half the time. At least Octavia could count on the consistency. “I understand,” she answered, trying to keep the frustration from her voice. “How about a guessing game? I name a name, and you tell me if they’re not coming.”

Again, this took Surprise a few seconds to contemplate before nodding. “Okay! Sure, I love guessing games!” she squeaked out.

“Princess Celestia?” She’d be the best. She’d listen to Octavia, she’d help her- a shake of Surprise’s head shut that down. “Princess Luna?” Another shake. Octavia sighed, top two candidates ruled out entirely. “The Royal Guard Captain, Shining Armor?” He still did that, didn’t he? His wedding wouldn’t be for months!

Not that it mattered, because Surprise denied that one too. Octavia picked at her brain, going down the list. Fancy couldn’t be trusted. He may be innocent, but Octavia couldn’t risk it. “Twilight Sparkle?” she blurted out. “I mean, Princess Twilight Sparkle?” Everypony knew the recently ascended alicorn, and Octavia had even met her before.

A nod. Oh! A nod! Octavia could work with that. “Okay!” Octavia sucked in a breath, steeling herself. She had a plan, one she could execute. “Is there any way you could schedule an hour long break in the middle of our set? I believe I could get somepony to cover me.” Her second. Much as she loathed her, she’d do an adequate job.

At least that got the quickest of nods from Surprise. “Of course!” she chirped. “You bet! Did you need anything else? Hey, did you wanna get dinner?”

Oh, tempting. Really tempting. “I must decline this time, my dear. I have somewhere to be, I’m afraid,” she excused herself. “Next time. Speak to me at the gala too, I’d love to have some more time to talk. I do wish we spoke more.”

Surprise gave a small shrug as a response. “I get it! You’re busy, and I heard about your little girlfriend!” she teased, letting out a chittering giggle.

A pang went through Octavia’s heart. Her girlfriend. “Yes…” she said, but her words were hollow, empty. “Good evening, Surprise. I’ll see you soon.”

To the gala.

Dance with a Princess

The day of the gala came in what seemed like a moment’s time. For Octavia, it felt like things hadn’t changed even a second. Four days. Then three. Then two. Then one. And then… finally, the day of.

Octavia didn’t go into this unprepared. She had to get herself ready - a violet dress that covered her flank, with long, ribbon-like things that went down her forelegs. She’d had her mane braided, the long thing tamed as best she could. She didn’t dare show up to the gala looking anything but perfect, and along with the new mane style, Octavia worked her makeup. Red lips, smokey eyeshadow, and long eyelashes would greet any pony foolish enough to catch her eye.

The gala wasn’t the greatest the city saw. The Grand Galloping Gala dwarfed all, but the Royal Symphony’s Second Annual gala would bring quite the pull. Octavia had a plan. One that would get her the attention that she not only needed, but deserved. The mare looked at herself in the mirror, inspecting herself with the deadly, pinpoint accuracy of someone with ice in their veins. She could do this. No matter what came, no matter what happened, she could do this.

The thought of Vinyl in trouble kept her motivated above all. The mare set out, stepping through the streets and tracing the path that she knew by heart. Her gaze stayed locked in front of her, the mare ready and willing to force her way through anypony who tried to stop her. But who would? Those who took her love already had what they wanted. It was up to Octavia to get her back.

The back entrance opened for her, the doorstallion giving her a friendly wave that she didn’t return. In she’d go, behind the smaller stage, where her folk, her company already started to gather. Some of them had split into groups, chatting amongst themselves. Octavia ignored most of them, instead heading towards her station. It wasn’t much, just her cello on a stand beside a vanity that she didn’t even need. The mare took a seat, steadying herself with a deep, long breath. “Okay,” she whispered.

“Okay.”

She didn’t know if she could do this. She didn’t know if she’d be able to manage whatsoever. Maybe she’d break down in the middle of the stage, or maybe she’d just start bawling her eyes out the second she thought Vinyl’s name. No, she could definitely do this, because if she didn’t, she may never see her love again.

The mare unstrapped her cello from the case, letting it out and allowing it to rest across her back. She peeked around the curtain, looking out amongst the masses of ponies in front of her. So many ponies gathered, all coats and colors, all different types. Anypony who was anypony indeed.

Back behind the curtain went Octavia. And there was Melodious Note herself. Octavia smiled as much as she could, a small smile that didn’t look quite sure of itself. “Good evening,” she began, as cordially as could be. ”Tonight’s show should be quite the affair, shouldn’t it?” she asked.

The conductor of the company gave a small nod, imperious eyes inspecting the grey mare. “You are frazzled, Octavia. You are out of it and you better not ruin my show.” The way those words came out seemed as serious as could be, so much so that Octavia felt even a minor misstep would feel the most awful of retributions.

It wouldn’t even get to Octavia. Who cared? What did it matter if she missed a note, or broke a string? Those things were so minor compared to what she’d really come for. But still, she smiled and bowed her head. “Of course, Miss Note. We’re going to have a lovely show, I am sure. It’s nearly time, is it not?”

Octavia had memorized the schedule. Of course she had. An hour of her performing along with the rest of the orchestra, then a thirty minute interlude where they could mingle. After that, a quartet of four of them would perform as ‘background’ music. Unfortunately, that meant Octavia, since she was the lead chair for cello. Two more hours of that and then wrap up. Those thirty minutes, those were the important parts.

The head of their little company gave her one last look before nodding, gesturing towards the stage. “Get set.”

And that was that. Octavia grew up in the symphony, made her name in it. She knew this better than anything else in the world. With the cello resting against her back, Octavia took the first few steps onto the stage. Her eyes overlooked the crowd, nothing but cool confidence showing within them. She smiled, a muted smile, but one nonetheless as she set herself up. The end of the cello pressed against the ground, the bow going into her hoof.

Behind her, she could hear the rest of the company get set. Her second took her place to Octavia’s right, the percussion section gathering behind her. Everypony took their places, the consummate professionals having done this hundreds, if not thousands of times before. Each and every pony here deserved their spot, worked their tails off for it, and now, the world would see it.

Miss Note stepped onto the stage, magically amplified voice speaking to the crowd. “Good evening, everypony, and thank you all for coming. Tonight, we have something special planned, so please, relax and enjoy the show.”

Her bow came up, careful, careful as could be. With one last breath, the magic started. Octavia drew the bow against the strings, the sound echoing through the hall. In barely a note’s time, another joined her, then a violin, then the percussion accompaniment.

For once since the disaster a week ago, Octavia relaxed. She kept her eyes closed, putting her feelings, her thoughts, her desires into her playing. When the fast tempo sections came, they embodied her anger, the fury that she kept locked inside of her chest. The slow pieces accentuated her despair, the absolute and total fear that she felt from the loss of the one she loved. Each bit of the performance spoke something about herself, and during that time, Octavia just played.

The passage of time wiped away completely. No longer did Octavia care about that, only caring about her art, her music. Each stroke of the string sent another reverberation through her, another feeling of loss and love, fury and fatigue. Before she even realized it, her set had ended. The only thing that broke her from the stupor was the sudden lack of sounds around her. No more playing, just quiet noise as the crowd broke into conversation.

For a second, the pony stood still. She opened her eyes, tears still running down her cheeks. The ponies in front of her didn’t seem to be paying attention whatsoever, the people caught up in other things, in each other. What did Octavia do? Did she stand here? Wait for her company head? Wait for her friends to come to her?

Oh, who did she kid? She had no friends.

And then, her salvation appeared before her. A bright purple coat, wings and a horn, adorned with a golden crown and purple gem. The princess. She had a crowd around her, but it was her. The princess had come to her show, and maybe, just maybe, Octavia could talk to her.

A hard swallow kept her feelings inside of her rather than letting them out entirely. Carefully, she crept back stage, packing her things back up as quickly as she could.Thankfully, no one bothered her, no one got in her way. Each clip clopping step took her towards the floor itself, and then, across the white and black expanse.

The memory of the princess’ location hung in her mind, and she could navigate by that alone. A shove here, a gentle nudge there, and Octavia worked her way through the crowd. No pony stopped her, no pony got in her way. A few ponies had gathered around the princess herself, but Octavia forced herself through, earning her a disdainful look from all those involved.

“Good evening, Princess,” she spoke, getting her piece in before anypony could stop her. “Would you please spare a moment for a terrified pony? I need your help.”

Octavia heard a lot about Twilight Sparkle. She’d heard about her awkwardness, her kindness, and her lack of pomp and circumstance. Twilight glanced at Octavia, the Princess of friendship regarding the gray pony, eyes poring over her. With an almost imperceptible nod, she agreed. Before Octavia could react, the two of them disappeared from reality, and less than a second later, reappeared on a balcony high above Canterlot.

Naturally, Octavia freaked the fuck out. She yelped, jumping backwards and skidding against the white tiles. Her eyes danced around, rooftops and towers standing out. Why, she almost thought she could see her own house from here!

“How- what just happened, your majesty?” Octavia managed to rattle out, mind frantically trying to catch up. “Where are we? Is this the palace? How did we get here?”

The smallest alicorn laughed. “We’re at the palace, yes. I teleported us here. I suppose I could have actually just put a silence bubble around us, but where’s the fun in that?” Twilight’s eyes twinkled as she spoke, the tip of her horn still glittering with that pretty, purple magic. “Besides, I wanted to get out of there for at least a few minutes! Did you see how much they were swarming me? I get I’m a princess now, but Celestia, I don’t think anypony can deal with that many nobles at once.”

The cool air whispered against Octavia’s coat, the cold Canterlot air impossible to ignore now that they were so high up. She shivered, but got herself ready to answer the question.

Twilight stepped in instead, horn lighting up and opening the double doors to whatever lay beyond. “Come on, let’s get inside before we speak. I’ll make us some tea.”

Octavia still didn’t get much time to answer. Twilight led on, heading inside. With a sigh, Octavia followed, already counting the minutes in her head. She did have to go back on in thirty minutes, after all.

Regardless of her hurry, the inside of the room did much to calm her down. For lack of a better word, it was ‘quaint’, which felt odd to use to describe the inside of a castle with. At some point, whoever owned the place had set up the room off the balcony as a small living area. A couch and a couple of chairs ringed a coffee table, shimmering lights suspended above it. They looked like magic - pink crystals with a light seemingly trapped inside of them, a lovely touch to a room.

A small rug took the space under the glass-topped coffee table, a red, shaggy thing to go with the dark brown of the furniture. At the end of the day, the room was pretty small, well furnished and clearly rich, but definitely small. Tentatively, the gray mare stepped into the room, still looking around like something would jump out and get her.

Turns out, something technically did. Twilight poked her head right back out from a door that Octavia had managed to miss entirely. “Please, please, take a seat! I’ll be right back, promise!” she swore, that beaming smile somehow comforting the frantic earth pony. “I’ll bring sugars too!”

How had she gotten here? The more she thought about it, the less she knew. Somehow, she’d gone from being terrified to being in a princess’s home, an opportunity that may give her a real chance to fix things. She took her seat, the daze starting to wear off as reality set in. “You can do this, Octavia,” she whispered to herself, quiet as could be. The resolve took hold of her again, it was time to get her love back.

A Plea for Help

Tea took but a few minutes to finish setting up, and before long, Twilight and Octavia both had a cup in front of them. Octavia took a slow slip, giving a nod of approval even as her thoughts raced in her head. She wanted to cut to the chase, hurry up and get this out of the way, but pleasantries had been drilled into her head since the beginning of her life.

Indeed, this sort of thing came as a second nature to Octavia. Gently sip the tea, place it down on your saucer, give a smile and then a compliment. “It’s lovely, thank you,” she spoke, voice low, deferent. Society determined her to be the lesser one in terms of status, so she’d follow and give respect to the greater - especially since the greater happened to be a princess.

“Any time!” Twilight answered, cheery as could be. “So, I can see you’re anxious, why don’t you go ahead and tell me what’s bothering you?” The princess pressed her hooves together and leaned in, eyebrows rising up in time and as the mare smiled as wide as anypony Octavia had ever seen.

The stress melted away from Octavia’s face, brows unknitting practically like a zipper. “Oh, thank Celestia,” she let out a long sigh. Octavia deflated a touch, letting herself slump into the seat. She bit her lip, just a tiny bit as the words started to form inside of her head. “I don’t know how to say this,” she began. “And I don’t think you’re going to believe me. I think the simplest, easiest way is to just… be direct,” she decided. “I think my girlfriend has been kidnapped. By the mafia. Or something like it.”

A pause interrupted their conversation, disbelief taking over the mare’s face. “Oh. I see.” What else could be said to such a revelation? Not much. Twilight opened her muzzle and then shut it again. Then she shifted her hooves. Then her tail swished back and forth. And finally, she let herself stay silent by drinking quite a bit more of her tea.

And then more tea. All of sudden, there wasn’t any left in her cup and the world came back. “Oh.” Twilight let a small giggle escape herself, but the manic sort rather than actually laughing at Octavia. “No wonder you wanted to see me!” she practically squeaked out, her voice raising at least two octaves by the end of the sentence. “That’s um… Well, can you tell me more about it? Who is your girlfriend?”

That, Octavia could answer. “Her name is Vinyl Scratch, your highness,” she explained, shifting to get more comfortable, or at least, as much as she could considering the conversation at hand. “I love her. She means the world to me. We met a while ago, and have been living together for a bit. Her family, your highness, were mixed up in bad things. I never really got the details, and I don’t think I ever want to know them, but it’s bad.

“She’s been taken by them, I think. My house got broken into a couple nights ago and they took her. Dragged her out of my house. It’s why I approached you tonight. I have to get her back, she’s the most amazing thing that’s ever happened to me.” Octavia kept going, starting to ramble and really let her feelings free. Twilight wanted to know more about her? She’d tell everything.

“She’s a musician, like me. But- but different! She makes things, a-and mixes things together that nopony has ever done before. And she can play the piano! Like, like it’s magic! Why, I think she could probably take my position in the orchestra with a tiny bit of practice, like a week of it or something like that. Every time I look at her, I can feel my heart skip a beat, her eyes are entrancing, the most beautiful red things that you’ve ever seen.” Definitely gushing now, but funnily, she couldn’t find it in her to stop.

At some point, tears had started to tingle at the edge of her eyes. They were going to come, especially if she kept going. And keep going, she did. “I miss her so much. It’s been less than a week and I can’t stop thinking about her. Every time I close my eyes I see her. Every time I have more than a second of time on my own, I feel like I’m going to pull my mane out.” And there they went, right down her face, trailing down her cheeks and even dropping down onto the couch.

“I miss her, Twilight. I miss her so much, more than anything in the world. Your Highness, I need her back. Please. I’ll do anything for you. I just need you to help me, I need somepony to help me get her back and I don’t know how to do it alone.” She’d started to blubber, hadn’t she? So messy, so uncultured, the princess would probably think her an absolute train wreck!

“Please…”

A flash of amethyst near blinded her, and barely a moment later, something warm and soft wrapped itself around Octavia. It took her but a second more to realize that Twilight had teleported, crossing the distance between them with magic rather than more corporeal means. The very same princess hugged her tight, both forelegs wrapping around Octavia’s shoulder and keeping her close.

“It’s gonna be okay. I’m going to help you and things are going to be okay. I can help you, and we can find who took her. My brother, he’s the Captain of the Guard. A-and my old babysitter! She’s the duchess of the Crystal Empire. They’ll know people,” Twilight urged, trying her best to comfort the poor thing. “We’re going to get Vinyl Scratch back, I swear to you. Are you okay, Octavia? Have you been hurt?”

How could she answer that? “I’m not hurt,” she mumbled, resting her head against the alicorn’s shoulder. Maybe she shouldn’t do that. Maybe this was getting too comfortable, too much with somepony so important. But she hadn’t been the one to start this or the one who had even moved close to the other. Surely, it must be fine?

Leave it to Octavia, the consummate professional, to worry about what others would consider proper while sobbing against somepony’s shoulder. She sniffled, a loud, quick thing as her body began to tremble. “I’m terribly sorry,” she whispered, voice hoarse. “Without Vinyl, I didn’t know who I could trust. I’ve been keeping this in since it happened, and it seems to be all coming out right now,” she apologized as profusely as she could, mind and voice both blurred from the tears.

Twilight’s answered first with actions rather than words, a hoof rubbing against Octavia’s back in a comforting, friendly way. “It’s okay. It’s okay, don’t worry about it. I’ve lost somepony I cared deeply for as well, I understand.” The hurt, the old, echoed pain in Twilight’s voice verified the truth of those words more than anything possibly could. “We will get her back, I swear on my life and my wings.”

For a while, Octavia could do nothing but cry, could do nothing but let the feelings she’d been repressing out. She’d had to be so strong, the chance to just be weak and helpless for a few seconds helped more than even the promises of help. Luckily, it wouldn’t last forever. She could only cry for so long before things started to settle down, all of it out of her and done.

Slowly, ever so slowly, Octavia extricated herself from the royal’s grip, pulling herself out and resting back against the couch. “This means more to me than you could possibly know, your highness. I- thank you,” she mumbled out, looking down at her own lap. How long had they been here? Octavia needed to get back on the stage and to steel herself for the future. She’d let herself be weak for a while, and it’d come time to be strong once more.

“I think it may be time for us to get back, your highness. I have obligations, I’m afraid. Could I give you any more details to get started?” she asked, trying to get her presence, her courtesy. Be good, be strong for Vinyl, even if she wanted nothing more than to stay here with the princess who acted so kind to her.

A wave of a wing dismissed the question and Twilight shook her head. “No, that should be more than enough!” Twilight answered, the alicorn perking back up as well. Both of them had to put masks on, both of them had to pretend things were okay, just in different ways. “How about I come down to your place in a few day’s time? I can bring news, and maybe some extra security for you. Peace of mind is just as important as steps towards a solution.”

Octavia disagreed silently. She didn’t need peace of mind, she needed Vinyl back. But, she wouldn’t say that to the royal, even as she wiped away the last tears from her eyes. Her makeup had likely run, but it would have to do, it wasn’t like she had the time or the things here to clean it up. She even managed to fix her smile, the thing a bit wobbly but nothing more than that.

“That would be nice,” she finally acquiesced. “I am a bit worried about guards, your highness. I had some before, but they were private security and may have been bribed away from their post.” No answers had come forth for that yet. Maybe they’d been hurt and driven back, but if so, shouldn’t there be blood? Mostly likely, they’d simply gone temporarily blind and abandoned their posts for a very large sum of bits.

Apparently, Twilight had considered this, giving a wave of her hoof. “Don’t worry! I’ll get some of the ponies that I trust more than anything to help out. I’ll get them to your house tomorrow and nopony will go in and out without you knowing. And worst case, I’ll come down there myself,” she swore.

Now that would be something. Imagine hosting a princess, not as a visitor, but as a bodyguard. Octavia couldn’t help but stress about the thought alone - imagine how much cleaning she’d have to do! That’d be okay, actually, because Vinyl could help-

Oh. Right. Just like that, her heart sank again, and the feeling of crying came back without a second’s thought. Vinyl. Her Vinyl. Her best friend. Her only friend. She couldn’t do this without her, could she?

But she had to. Otherwise, Vinyl would never be back. Octavia swallowed the lump that had apparently teleported into her throat. The smile stayed in its place, Octavia could do this. “That sounds lovely. I’ve always dreamed of having a princess in my house,” she admitted, with her fledgling smile growing. “But regardless, your highness, I think it’s about time for both of us to return. I’m sure I go on shortly, and you have your royal duties.”

“You’re right. You know what they say, always more friends to make!” Twilight beamed - she really was the princess of friendship, wasn’t she? Octavia had always thought the title was more symbolic than anything. “You ready? I’ll teleport us.”

Octavia nodded and the world went purple.

But only for a second before the familiar sights and sounds of the ballroom came back into focus. A comforting tap on the shoulder was the last that Octavia got before Twilight started to drift back into the crowd again, ponies already flocking around her. The pony everypony should know.

With a bit of weakness and the same steel as earlier, Octavia started to trot her way back to the stage. Her plan had worked, she’d gotten help. All she could do now was wait, wait until Twilight got back to her, wait until something got settled.

And yet, Octavia couldn’t help but feel like she should do more. It was her love, her best friend, her everything, she needed to do more, she just, couldn’t.

With a heavy heart and a worry for the future, Octavia re-entered the stage.

The Beginning of the End

By the princesses, Octavia hated just sitting and waiting. What more could she really do, though? She had the one and only Twilight Sparkle trying to help her, and even had some of the royal guard themselves around her house. What could one mare, one inexperienced, and a bit foalish, mare do?

So she spent time working, preparing, practicing her craft. Thankfully, it wouldn’t take long for her patience to be rewarded. Around two weeks passed before her normal, daily routine was interrupted. Due to the sensitive nature of the issue, Octavia spent most of her time alone and cooped up in her house. Which meant that getting visitors changed things.

A knock sounded through her house, followed by a chime of her doorbell going off. Octavia raised herself from her position on the chaise, letting her book fall to the cushion and lay there. The mare pulled herself off the couch, none too swift on her hooves. “Coming!” she called, stepping out into the hallway that led to her foyer.

The door opened with a touch, and none other than Twilight Sparkle waited for her on the other side. Octavia felt a smile break out on her face, the boredom suddenly far, far from her mind. “Oh! Your highness!” she said, soft surprise coloring her voice. She bowed, ducking her head low enough to nearly touch the ground. A small, pink blush stained her gray fur.

A tinge of magic surrounded her chin, pushing it upwards and bringing her eyes back on level with the surprisingly short alicorn’s. “Good afternoon, Octavia. May I come in?”

As if Octavia would dare to say no. “Of course,” she answered, gesturing for Twilight to follow her. Her family’s estate did have a room specifically for entertaining royalty, strangely enough. Perhaps it was simply because they were well known enough and spent enough time with the government, but as far as Octavia knew, this would be the first time it saw use in her lifetime. The room stayed clean thanks to her maids, a small parlor with a nice sitting area and a tea seat that saw very little use.

“Would you like anything to drink, your highness?” Octavia asked, going as far as to pull a chair out for the princess and everything.

As Twilight took her seat, the alicorn shook her head. “Not this time, but thank you. Please, take a seat, I’ve got word.”

Oh. That made sense. Without a word, Octavia took her seat, sweeping her tail out from underneath her. The way that Twilight acted made it seem like things would go well, but maybe she just always acted like that? “Please tell me it’s good news,” Octavia’s words came out desperate as could be, the fear gripping her. “Please, Twilight. Did you find her?”

A smile, an honest to Celestia smile. “Yes. We found her.” But then it disappeared just as fast as it came. “Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to recover her yet. But we know where she is. She’s being held at one of the mafia’s fronts, a place near the harbor where the airships take off.” Every word that came from Twilight’s muzzle was both a blessing and a curse at once. They’d found her love, they had found her, but she still felt so far away. Bittersweet feelings clawed at Octavia’s mind, an odd broken smile on her face and a couple of tears in her eyes.

“Why haven’t you rescued her yet?” she asked. She didn’t understand it. “Couldn’t you have taken the royal guard and just went in? You’re an alicorn, aren’t you? Just call Celestia! Get somepony!” The mixture of panic and frustration had caused her to erupt. “You’re a princess! If you know where she is, just walk in there and take her! I don’t understa-”

Octavia suddenly found herself silenced by magic clamping her muzzle shut. “Octavia.” Strained words, with a worried expression. “Please, understand something. These ponies cannot be reasoned with. They don’t respect mine or Celestia’s rule, and some of them are very dangerous. They have archmages within their ranks, high ranking politicians, ponies who can fight and have money to throw around. It’s not something that we can just fix, it’s a systematic issue that Celestia has been trying to root out for literally centuries.”

It did put something in perspective. If Celestia couldn’t deal with them, then could Octavia really blame Twilight? Her face fell, the anger and frustration leaving her like a gust of wind. She looked down, staring at her lap, despairing tears running down her face. “So what can we do?” she asked. That was an easier question, wasn’t it? “What can I do?”

Twilight’s smile came back. “I was hoping that you would ask that. Now, this plan puts you in harm's way, and it’s entirely up to you whether you want to go with it or not. In simple terms, you would enter the front as an undercover agent for the Royal Guard. When there, you’re going to ask for certain illegal substances. This will, at the least, give us the ability to get a search warrant for the place. Now, things might become violent after that, but the guard will only come in once you’re out and safe. It shouldn’t be very dangerous for you to just ask around, but in the worst case, we’re going to give you a panic button as well. One push and you’ll have all the help you can possibly ask for.”

Octavia sucked in a deep breath. Dangerous, but not too dangerous. Her eyes hardened, the steel in them solidifying into shape. “I will do anything for Vinyl,” she swore, the fire smoldering in her eyes. She would fight if she had to, bring them all down… despite having no training whatsoever to speak of. “It doesn’t matter. You tell me what to do, when to do it, I’ll do it. As long as it helps get her back. If you need me, I’ll fight too. I don’t care.” She felt the fire in her eyes grow all the stronger, her soul burning with the passion. She even grit her teeth, though the mare didn’t realize it at all.

Twilight held up a hoof, trying to stop her, the princess suddenly looking rather alarmed. “Please, Octavia, nothing of that sort is going to be necessary, honest! We have this under control, your role is already defined and we can do this without you getting hurt,” Twilight protested, stressing that last bit particularly hard. “I understand that you want to do what you can to help her, but the best you can do is make sure you come home safe, okay?”

Part of Octavia understood that. If she went and got captured instead, or it turned into a hostage situation, or - Celestia forbid - she was killed in the crossfire, what would the point of this have been? Vinyl may come home, but Octavia wouldn’t be there to greet her. The storm still rolled through her, even as her mind twisted and fought with the feelings. She didn’t want to be sidelined, but it was probably for the best. A long sigh escaped her and she finally nodded.

“Okay. When did you plan on doing this, your Highness?” Octavia asked, doing her best to press her normal mask right back on. So many feelings fought against it, but Octavia had grown used to that over years and years of hiding them away. She settled back into the couch and got herself comfortable as she could be considering the circumstances. “And is there anything I need to bring or do?”

A shake from the alicorn’s head answered her first. “No, we’ll give you everything you need the day of. It’ll just be some money and a normal, unassuming outfit. This isn’t anything too complicated, all we need is probable cause to go in and you’re going to give us that. We’ve got a really good team for this, okay?” Now it seemed like Twilight tried to fix Octavia’s feelings. Hooves came across the table to grasp one of Octavia’s within their hold. “Just breathe and be ready. You have a few days, it’ll happen later this week. My brother’s leading the team himself and I’m the backup in case they need some extra hornpower,” she explained, the thing atop her head glimmering a lilac at her words.

Octavia swallowed hard and gave something of a numb nod. Later this week. Crack team. What could go wrong? They’d get Vinyl back, they’d take her home, and then Octavia could have her happily ever after. “Okay,” she finally spoke, giving another nod of her head. “I trust you.” Who could beat a princess in a fight? Well, Discord. Oh, Chrysalis apparently. And Tirek. But none of those things would be here for this, and Discord was good now, Octavia tried to reason internally. Something caught on the edge of Octavia’s vision, something she almost missed. It was a shadow in Twilight’s face, a shadow of a doubt, perhaps.

“Is there something you aren’t telling me?” Octavia asked, a bit of coldness creeping into her voice while she brought back her hoof. “Your Highness, I trust you, I really do, but I feel like you aren’t telling me something.” It was just the way that Twilight looked at her, like she was dodging Octavia’s eyes, like she was trying to avoid… something. What was it?

Twilight shuffled awkwardly, her wings even fluffing behind her. “There have been some… troubling reports. Vinyl’s parents want her to rejoin the party, and it hasn’t been really pleasant for her.” Octavia’s heart skipped a beat, her gaze hardening all the more. Inside, her resolve tightened - there was no way she’d let them hurt her love. “Some say she’s been dosed with a drug. Others, uh, say that she’s been hurt. Please understand that we don’t know any of this for certain. What we do know for certain is that she’s alive.” Twilight swallowed, wings fluffing back behind her again.

A deep breath went through the alicorn before she spoke. “She tried to kill herself, Octavia. That’s when things got really bad. That’s something every report is agreeing with. She gave it a try, she failed, and now they aren’t even letting her out of their sight. So we’ve accelerated the timetable a little bit, we need to get in there and soon for her safety. I didn’t want you to know because I knew it would stress you out and push you, and frankly Octavia, this is something you really need to leave to the professionals, okay? I know, I know this is a lot, I know this isn’t what you wanna hear. Just wait a little longer and she’ll be safe, happy and home.”

Octavia’s heart throbbed, and she felt sick. The earth pony nearly threw up right then and there, shock and terror both intermingling in her mind. She could see it in her mind’s eye, she could see Vinyl looking as scared, as gaunt as the day that they met. She could remember it like it was yesterday, and now, her Vinyl, her love went through worse. And Octavia had made this happen. She should have just left well enough alone.

Tears had already started to leak from her cheeks as another emotion bit her as well - betrayal. Why hadn’t Twilight told her earlier? She could handle this. She could be rational. “I think you need to leave. I need some time on my own,” she managed to get out. There was nothing proper about it, no deference, just raw, unfiltered words.

Twilight looked to say something else, she had even opened her muzzle but Octavia wouldn’t let her. Later on, she’d be horribly embarrassed, horrifically shamed, but in the heat of the moment? She let it out. “Go!” she barked, voice echoing through the room enough to shake the tea glasses.

Without a word, Twilight’s horn flashed and the princess disappeared.

Author's Notes:

I AM SO RUSTY PLEASE FORGIVE ME

The Confrontation

The day came, and oddly enough, Octavia didn’t really find herself feeling nervous. It was definitely there, but it was in the back of her head, not at the forefront, and not something that actually made her jittery or anything of the sort. Instead, she had an odd calm about her. Even as she dressed in her best - a nice, white sundress with a purple sash and a wide brimmed hat - she moved with a sense of being unshakeable.

The day began hours earlier with a team coming to her house to help fit her with what she needed. A purse had been given to her, a small, gray one that matched her coat and had quite the number of gold pieces inside of it, as well as a small wire for the team to listen in on. That and the co-words would be all she was given: Celestia’s Mercy.

Once she spoke the words, the team would flood in, arrest everyone, and they’d sweep the compound to find Vinyl. At least, that’s what they’d told Octavia. And she believed them, but she also knew that things never went to plan. No matter how straightforward, how easy something felt, it always went wrong. There was something about that - Morphy’s law or whatever. But Octavia would do her best, and that’s all she could do.

For a day that had such foreboding plans, the weather couldn’t have been nicer. Celestia’s sun shone in the sky, the warmth coming onto her coat and filling her mind up with hope. Ponies waved and smiled in the streets, and Octavia did her best to return them. The buildings Octavia passed slowly changed, going from nice, small townhouses and well kept stores gradually became more and more decrepit, run down. The stores changed from bakeries with their stores proudly on display, to pawn stores with bars on their windows.

Octavia hadn’t been around this part of town often. She’d never had a reason to be, not when her life was spent in the upper districts, when she played music professionally, when her parents were a noble family. It was a privilege that she couldn’t ignore, especially as she noticed the ponies passing her smile less, wave less, and just seem more run down, just like their buildings. There were still lively sorts, families together chatting and seeming happy, but it was fewer and far between, and the looks Octavia received started to border on predatory. Not for her, but for the purse around her flank.

She had to remind herself that nopony could know what she carried, nopony knew that she had a veritable fortune in that small handbag, but the fear of it still pricked the hairs on the back of her neck. Still, she kept her focus, walking forward step by step, getting closer and closer to the docks, the smells in the air changing gradually to oil, grease, and fire - the smell of industry.

It was a good thing that Octavia had remembered her directions, memorized the map before setting off. The lower districts seemed almost labyrinth to her mind, the streets twisting and turning, unlike the smooth, concentric circles of the streets above. A left here, a right on Griffin, then another on Tsach, not bad, it should be…

There.
A warehouse, normal looking as could be on the outside.There wasn’t much too it, a simple sloped roof and a weathered, brick surface. It used to be red at some point, probably, but now it was more of a gray tinged with red more than actually colored. A sign hung about the door: ‘D & L Shipping Co’. That was it, that’s what she had walked all this way for. The door underneath the sign didn’t have much to it either, the most simple, nondescript door she’d ever seen.

The pony swallowed, the anxiety suddenly welling up inside of her. It hadn’t bothered her on the way, but this close she couldn’t help it anymore. So much could go wrong, she could get caught, she could not get what the team needed, she might even be killed in the crossfire! No, Octavia shouldn’t do this, she needed to go home and rest, needed to have someone else-

Needed to save Vinyl.

That steeled her resolve like nothing else. Vinyl waited inside, Vinyl suffered inside and delaying this, backed out would mean she suffered longer and how could Octavia live with herself if she gave up now? She didn’t even have to do a lot, just have a conversation, an illegal one sure, but a conversation nonetheless.

Octavia took a long, deep breath, gathering her resolve and stepping forward. The door in front of her opened with a little tiny chime of a bell, the inside just as plain as the out. Yellowed, linoleum tiles took up the floor space, with simple ceilings with dull fluorescent lights. A desk in the front sat unmanned, and a few chairs haphazardly placed around gave it something of a ‘lobby’ feel.

A few looks around the place confirmed her initial guess - no pony waited for her. There was, however, a small chime bell on the desk, and with all the courage she could muster, the earth pony stepped forward and pressed her hoof on top, letting the thing chime out and ring through the place.

For a minute or so, nopony came. Octavia stayed alone with her thoughts, the chime still rining in her ears, the terror that her loved one had to deal with playing in her mind. Without a warning, a stallion stepped out from behind a nearby door, one that Octavia hadn’t even seen. He looked nice enough, pale blue coat, brown hair, dice cutie mark, wearing a simple, protective jacket. “Sorry ‘bout that,” he answered. Even his voice sounded sort of kind, like what you’d expect from a day. Octavia expected something else entirely, some gruff, seedy person who would stab you as soon as smile at you. But there he went, smiling away.

“What can I do ya for? Ain’t many of your type that come out here. I mean no offense, but you’re rather proper ain’t ya?” he asked, leaning against the counter with one arm and quirking up an eyebrow.

Now this is when Octavia’s script came in. She knew what she was supposed to say, it’d been all planned out from the very start. “Good afternoon!” she chimed in, with her own smile, with her own exuberance. She needed to play the part, the part of a well to do lady that just happened to go a little down the wrong path. “I’ve heard through a colleague of mine that your warehouse specializes in certain things that are a bit harder to get in other places,” she started, already implying what she wanted to get at. “And I have quite a bit of interest in the more exotic spices of life.”

The smile on the stallion’s face shrunk slightly, turning in but not going away. “Yea? Who’d ya hear that from anyways?”

Another response that Octavia had an answer to, her expression going a little sympathetic. “Ah, I’m afraid I can’t say. My colleague insisted that they remain anonymous, they said it was for both their safety and yours that we couldn’t connect them. Honestly, I know what you do here and I don’t intend to report it, soil it, or anything like that. I merely wish to peruse some of your wares for myself, would that be too hard?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at the stallion, putting her charm to good use.

That seemed to take him aback for a few seconds, the gears in his head quite clearly spinning so much that it showed on his face. “Aye, we could do something like that. What were you interested in particularly?” he asked.

Okay, home stretch. “Mare-y jane, if you will. I’m not too familiar with the different strands for yourself, so perhaps you could suggest something that could give me a good, relaxing night? My job is rather stressful, you see, I’m a musician that performs in a rather large orchestra and any bit of stress relief can be useful for me, Celestia, it’s definitely useful!” Octavia leaned against the counter too, propping herself up against it.

Wait, why did his face tighten up when she asked? “Yea? Alright. I think we got some in the back. How ‘bout you wait right there?” he asked, with a nod of his head. There was something wrong about this, something weird. Why did it feel weird? The stallion turned, heading towards the door he came from without another word. Octavia usually trusted her instincts, and now should probably continue along that path. “Celestia’s mercy,” she whispered. The trigger words, the squad would be here within minutes, right?

Which was definitely good, because as the man came out, others came out with him. A mare that she recognized from a night on her porch, one that had claimed to be an investigator, and another stallion, beefy, massive, hulking. The mare had a gun gripped in her magic, leveling the thing at Octavia, a faint smile on her face. “I remember you. I knocked on your door about… what was it, four months back?” she mused, brandishing the gun all the more closely.

Yes, Octavia recognized the mare, but she couldn’t give things away that easily. She put on an incredulous mask, eyes going wide and taking a small, itty bitty stuttering step back. “Ma’am, I have no idea what you mean!” she cooed, trying to clam this down, trying to bring it all back down to a baseline that she could handle. “I don’t think we’ve ever met in my life before, and I’m simply here to make a business transaction that-”

The gun pressed right against her chest, and that was more impetus than Octavia needed to shut the heck up. Her muzzle clamped shut, eyes going wide as she looked over the mare in front of her. “Yea, that’s bullshit. Seriously, you gotta learn when to shut up every now and then. I know you’re here for your little girlfriend, what I don’t know is how you were going to do it. So this is how things are going to play out - you’re going to take off your saddlebags slowly, and kick them over to my associate here-” The stallion from before nodded his head, indicating him, “- and he’s going to search them. If we find anything suspicious in there, I take you back and you get to see your girlfriend earlier than ya thought, but neither of you are going to leave here alive.”

Octavia swallowed a lump in her throat, though now it felt more like a damned boulder than just a lump. She took her damned time taking the saddle bags off, weakly nudging them towards the stallion, then kicking them quite a bit harder once it proved it wasn’t enough.

The air felt so thick you could cut it with a knife, and Octavia already knew what they’d find in there. They’d find the fire, they’d throw her in with Vinyl, they’d probably torture her to try and see who she worked with. Was Vinyl even still alive? She’d already tried to kill herself!

All at once, many things happened. First, the door behind her exploded open. Quite literally exploded, the thing shattering into a million splinters and flying into the air. Second, the gun in front of her fired, nearly point blank right into her chest. Finally, a deep purple shield surrounded her, stopping the splinters, the gunshot, anything at all from reaching her.

Three ponies searched inside, one that Octavia recognized - Royal Guard Captain Shining Armor. His horn glowed bright, standing his ground while two heavily armored guardsmen flanked him on each side, levitating guns of their own. “Freeze! Drop your weapons and surrender! Come peacefully and you’ll be treated well under the law. Resist, and all of Celestia’s might will be thrown at you.” It was an impressive speech, one that even rattled Octavia a little. Such a shame it didn’t matter.

Without another second passing, all hell broke loose.

Author's Notes:

I can feel the end a-coming. Three, maybe four left.

A Hint of Hope

Octavia had never been in a fight. In school, she’d behaved perfectly, gotten good grades and moved on with her life. There had been a few scraps around the playground, but Octavia stayed very far away from every single one of them. As an adult, the worst ‘fight’ she’d ever gotten in was yelling at one of her orchestra members after a particularly unfortunate performance. Could anyone truly be surprised that she froze up?

In the hail of gunfire and screams that followed, Octavia froze up. But only for a second, only for a little while before one feeling took control of her more than anything. Vinyl. Octavia scurried out of the shield, ducking under Shining Armor himself and bolting towards the door. But, not the door to the exit, no, Octavia ran towards the door leading into the warehouse.

In the chaos, no pony thought to stop her. The mare swung at her, but swore and darted back behind the desk as the royal guards returned fire. Octavia heard a scream but didn’t stick around to see who had taken the shot. Inside, chaos still took over. It’d been a joint assault, with pegasi breaking through the windows in the warehouse floor and unicorns teleporting in. Even at the best of times, the place seemed particularly labyrinth - shipping containers taking up the largest portions of the room, with pallets full of things she couldn’t identify in others.

Some of the containers were already open, worker ponies coming out, just as armed as the ones in front. Two turned towards Octavia as she surveyed the place, one of them screamed and lifted up a gun towards her.

Octavia had already grown tired of having guns pointed at her head. Without thinking, she darted to the right, running as fast as she could just as a salvo of bullets punctured the wall behind her. On one side, the wall stayed strong, a door darted every now and then, on the other, the shipping containers with small breaks in between to form alleys. She’d look between each of them as she ran, fighting filling the corridors with a mess of hoof to hoof and entrenched mafia ponies fighting royal guards in their gleaming gold armor.

Thoughts filled her head - where would they be keeping her love? Where would she be hidden? She didn’t get to think too much due to a bullet firing right over her shoulder, whizzing so close to her ear that she could feel the air and hear the zwip! sound.

Keep moving. Octavia barreled through a door to her right, slamming it shut and locking it behind her as fast as her shaking hooves could manage it. Only then did she turn to look at what actually greeted her - a staircase? It went down, that meant… a basement?

Shouts echoed through the door, and a bang shook it - they were following her, they had her trapped and she could only go one way: deeper into the belly of the beast.

Octavia descended down the stairs as fast as she could, nearly tripping over herself, hooves clacking against the brutish metal. Down here, things were quieter, the gunshots and screams of the floor above didn’t quite permeate it perfectly. Down here, the lights weren’t so bright. Actually, they were quite dark. It was a hallway of some sort, with doors evenly spaced along the sides, a tube light flickering above and casting shadows that looked like they’d come straight out of a horror movie. A chill went up Octavia’s spine, and then another as she realized she could hear… crying? Yes, that was definitely crying.

The pony felt paralyzed now, stuck to the spot with hooves rooted to the ground. Above her, she could still hear the banging against the door, but for now, somehow, it managed to stay whole. A little bit of peace amongst the creepiest spot she’d ever been in her life.

With a swallow, Octavia managed to step forward, the memory of her Vinyl rousing her to action. And really, where else would her love be but somewhere like this? With a trembling hoof, she stepped to open the first door on her left, pushing it open to reveal - nothing. To be fair, some things did occupy the room - chains on the wall, a messy blanket on the floor. Wait, was that blo-. Oh. Bloody blankets on the floor, shackles on the wall…

Octavia knew what that meant. A sense of revulsion swam through her and for a second, just a second, she thought that she’d vomit. Octavia braced herself against the wall, legs feeling weak, mind spinning with possibilities, with all the different things that could have gone wrong. There could have been kids here, Vinyl could have-

Vinyl. The intelligence said that she still remained on the premises, so that meant she had to be down here. Anywhere else wouldn’t make sense, and the thought alone brought a new sense of urgency back to her.

Out she surged, going for the door directly across and kicking it open as well. Empty, just like the one before it. She kept moving, kept her hooves going because every second mattered. The banging above her had stopped but was that because they’d been taken out or because they’d gotten through? Who had won?

Another door, another empty- no, not empty. A pony curled up in the corner, but it wasn’t Vinyl. It was a pink coated stallion, asleep on the floor so deeply that not even the gunfight above could wake him. That had a host of other consequences that Vinyl didn’t want to think about right now, and though pity stung her heart, she couldn’t stop and get him free, not when she had so many things to take care of.

There were only four doors left. Four down, four to go, halfway done and still no Vinyl. One more, this had to be it, this had to be the one.

She kicked it in. There was a pony in this one, in the low light, Octavia could barely see, but she didn’t need to see to know who it was, her heart told her the truth. Vinyl, right in front of her, Vinyl, chained to the wall with thick bandages around her neck. Her Vinyl, broken, downcast, bruised, even her horn had been shattered to stop her from doing magic, the only way that she would have been able to get out.

Octavia’s heart broke and she wanted to scream and cry both at the same time. Her love, her girlfriend looked up from the sound of the door opening, already starting to speak. “I told you I won’t fuckin- Octavia?” she blurted out that last word, so surprised, so shocked that anything that came before simply didn’t matter. But instead of joy, despair, fear showed on her face. “No, no, no, you can’t be here! You have to go!” That spurred her to life, the pony pulling against her chains, letting them jingle against each other as she tried to move forward - she couldn’t get very far. “They didn’t get you, did they? Octavia, please, run, these people are crazy!”

But Octavia wouldn’t run, she couldn’t run. She couldn’t even say a word, much less speak. Instead, she closed the distance between them herself, wrapping her forelegs around the other girl, hugging her as tightly as she could without hurting the poor thing, putting all the love, all the care she had into it. Both of their bodies shook, Octavia’s from relief and sadness, and Vinyl from fear and terror in equal margins. “They didn’t get me,” she whispered, nuzzling close to Vinyl’s ear. “They didn’t find me. I came to get you, I have the royal guard with me, they’re upstairs taking care of this, okay? You’re going to come home. You’re going to come with me and we’re going to be happy again, alright?” she asked, her voice trembling from the pure emotion in it.

Vinyl hugged her back. There were chains involved closing around Octavia’s neck, but she didn’t care, not when she actually had the chance to touch her love, to be close to her again for the first time in what felt like eternity. A few tears ran down Octavia’s cheeks, disappearing into Vinyl’s fur, overwhelmed, simply unable to process all of the emotions.

“Will I be okay? Octavia, I don’t think I can use magic anymore,” Vinyl whimpered out, the broken pieces of her horn still on the ground beside them, white bits that looked like stone but were something much, much more horrifying.

Octavia nodded even as she squeezed all the tighter. “Of course, hun. I’ve been talking to the Princess herself, Twilight will be able to help you, she has to,” she assured her, patting Vinyl’s back with a free hoof, rubbing against it and giving her all the pets, all the affection she could ever want.

“Octavia, wai-” She didn’t finish her words. Behind her, a sound broke out that Octavia only recently learned - the sound of a gun cocking.

With a feeling of true terror and a chill going down her spine, Octavia slowly released Vinyl and turned, only to see the same mare from earlier, the same bitch who kept following her, covered in blood and leveling a gun at her once more.

“You just couldn’t give up, could you?” she sneered, stalking forward like a mare possessed. She didn’t have her lackeys this time, didn’t have someone to back her up, but she didn’t need it, not with that gun waving in front of her. “You couldn’t leave well enough alone and now look what you’ve done. This will be war, you know.” Her teeth showed behind pulled back lips, the usually white, ivory things covered in a thin sheen of blood, Octavia could only hope it was hers. “An all out war between the organized crime syndicates and the royal guard, and two little fuckwit mares will be the start of it all, how...stupid.” The mare laughed, a cackling, echoing laugh, and only then did Octavia realize she’d forgotten her name entirely.

It was a strange thought to have. Who cared about somepony’s name when a gun pointed at your head? Who thought of anything but that and the way the thing moved like a corpse held together by strings? But it seemed important for some reason, and Octavia didn’t really know why. Not even the barrel quite literally pressing against her head could really change that simple fact.

“So now I’m going to kill you and I am going to enjoy it. I’m going to have so much fun doing it, I’m going to have so much satisfaction watching you feel Celestia’s mercy that you so clearly want,” she ranted, practically raving on the bit. Octavia swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry, all her clever words, her thoughts and feelings disappearing from her mind.

But not from Vinyl’s. The hurt, the injured mare stepped forward, putting herself in front of the mare instead of Octavia. “Come on,” she started, eyes a little hazy and blood starting to leak out from behind the bandages once more. “You wanna get out of this don’t you?” Octavia hadn’t realized just how raspy Vinyl’s voice was till now, she could barely make out the pony she loved so much. A second ago simple love, simple feeling had washed all that away, but in this moment of desperation, everything seemed so much more vivid.

Octavia could latch onto that thread. “Yes, yes. The guards would let you go if you had us. You don’t have to do this, we can make this work out peacefully.”

At least the mare seemed to consider it, chin lifting up slightly and looking over the two with a more appraising look, careful and scrutinous. To Octavia, it felt like a butcher looking over a piece of meat, and she couldn’t help but shudder.

“How many hostages do you need? One.”

A Reunion

Octavia had already grown tired of staring down the barrel of a gun. Granted, it’d only happened twice in her life, but quite honestly, that was already too many times. She’d expected her life to be quiet and slow, simple and straightforward not something like this.

What happened next seemed to happen in slow motion to her mind. All at once, VInyl moved, crashing into Octavia and throwing her to the side. At the same moment, the barrel of the gun erupted, no guard, no shield to save her this time. The momentum from Vinyl’s push carried her over, and Octavia felt a sudden, searing pain in the top of her ear, a splatter of blood dotting her face.

But she wasn’t dead. It’d missed, for the most part. The mare landed in a heap on the ground, Vinyl on top of her, but only for a moment. With a strangled, feral yell, Vinyl moved again, crashing her body right into the killer mare’s.

The gun went off again, and then another time as Octavia struggled to her paws. Her ears rang, the closer quarters and lack of hearing protection meaning the gun threatened to blow out her eardrums with every shot. The sudden impact against the ground had left her dazed as well, the two sensations combining to leave her slow to react.

When her head cleared enough to see what waited in front of her, she could see Vinyl and the mare tossing and scrapping on the ground, fighting for every piece they could. She started to stumble forward, but the biting pain in her ear frazzled her mind and she slipped, falling nearly onto her muzzle right in front of the scuffle.

It was close enough that she could see the gun press against Vinyl’s head, close enough she could even spy the imprint in the fur. Magic pulled back the trigger, and for just a second, terror filled Octavia’s entire being.

But then the gun clicked, empty.

Instead of terror, rage took the lead. This time, Octavia kicked the gun out of the way, bucking it hard and shattering the magic’s hold on it. She didn’t stop there, instead flying into a frenzy of moving limbs. For a while, she blacked out.

Spots of her memory disappeared entirely, the girl not sure what happened or how it happened, but the next moment she could feel had her atop the killer mare, the other mare bleeding and laying on the ground, not moving with Octavia gasping for breath. Vinyl shook her shoulder, hooves pressing against her, desperately trying to snap her out of it.

“...can go! We can get out of here, Tavi, come on,” Vinyl plead, the noises, the words only now reaching Octavia’s mind.

Numbness kept it’s grip, but Octavia didn’t intend to let it stay there. She’d been in this situation before, an overload of emotions and senses and she could fix it. She just had to breath, just had to suck in a couple of breaths and get her heart to stop racing.

The world came back into focus, Vinyl’s pleas getting a little louder. In front of her, she could see the mare who had tormented her so, broken and beaten on the ground, even her chest no longer rising and falling. Had Octavia killed her? There was, quite literally, blood on her hooves now, splattered on her chest, her tail, her mane, she felt so filthy. All the while, Vinyl looked to pull her, leading her towards the exit.

Finally, she’d let it happen.”Okay. Okay, how do I get you unchained?” she asked, blearily looking over the cuffs, all of it. They were still tied tight to the wall and Octavia wouldn’t leave Vinyl no matter how dangerous things got.

Only now did she realize the bandage around Vinyl’s neck had a fresh bit of red blood on it, the movement, the fight probably breaking open the stitches that kept it close. They needed to get to a hospital, to get help. Did the fight keep raging? Were they even safe to leave?

Vinyl glanced around, a bit frantically before hitting herself on the head. “I heard it every day!” she croaked out, her beautiful voice a little waver-y, rapsy as could be. “End of the hall, near the stairs. There should uh, there should be some keys. I think. Go, hurry,” she urged, pulling against the chains, letting them go to their limit, which was nearly to the door.

No time to wait. Octavia went, sprinting back down the hall, getting closer to the door and hearing the fighting still going on above. The one she’d come through had been bust off its hinges, wedged halfway down the stairs in a way that almost blocked them in. They would’ve been able to get out, but it’d be hard and loud. She searched around, looking through a small desk nearby and not finding them before finally seeing them hanging out a hook against the wall.

Of course, where else would they be? It was a keyring with eight keys, each one labeled one through eight. Vinyl was… fifth or sixth, right? It had to be. The mare rejoined her lover in the room, the keys dangling from her muzzle. Vinyl reached out her hooves, looking with a pleading, begging glance.

And for the life of her, it actually worked. The fifth key worked, unlocking the first cuff and then the second. She dropped the keys and threw her forelegs around Vinyl again, taking the time to squeeze her. “It’s still going upstairs,” she whispered. “I don’t know who’s winning. We may be stuck down here for now but we’re together. We’re together.”

Yet the hug only lasted a couple of seconds before Vinyl pushed her off. Octavia honestly barely felt it at first, Vinyl so weak, so much smaller that the push nearly didn’t register. But when it did, her eyes went wide and she looked over her love, a touch confused. “We aren’t staying here,” Vinyl decreed, hobbling towards the door. Her steps were slow, all her energy apparently expended in the fight, but she kept moving. “I know a way out. There’s a tunnel down here so my parents could visit me during the whole thing.” Vinyl’s parents. The ones who started all of this. “Trust me, you good with that, Tavi?” she asked, glancing towards Octavia with a small smile.

And how could she not?

Octavia nodded numbly and let Vinyl lead. The underground hallway turned at the end where Octavia couldn’t see it in the dark, twisting and going down, further down. Here, the rock wasn’t perfectly hewn and clean. It was rough and barely chiseled, string lights barely illuminating the space. Octavia could swear that she heard water drip all around her as well, the noise of the chaos above slowly disappearing.

It was quiet. Too quiet after everything that she’d been through, only the sounds of her breath and Vinyl’s rasping one breaking the silence around them. There didn’t seem in be anypony else there, and each movement made her hooves clop against the ground, the echoing starting to join their breaths in the air.

“How did you know about this?” Octavia asked, in a whisper. Despite being alone, Octavia couldn’t help but feel like they were being watched. Did somepony follow them? Were there little windows in the stone that she couldn’t see? That was preposterous, there was only two ways, one in and one out, and Octavia had come from one of them.

It took a second for Vinyl to answer, her rasping sounding a little… wet, definitely something that boded poorly. “Parents. Took me down here all the time when I was a filly,” she answered. “They took me through these to show me how everything -nng- worked.” That interruption bothered her, every time that Vinyl hesitated it sounded like pain, like she got worse and worse the longer the two of them kept going.

What chance did they have but to keep going though? “Oh. I forgot that you used to be a part of all this,” she admitted. Octavia couldn’t see Vinyl as a part of this. In her mind, Vinyl was perfect and lovely, everything that Octavia wanted and more. “Do you know where this goes?”

Vinyl didn’t answer, but she looked fine since she kept walking, kept moving just in silence. She looked over her shoulder, Octavia instantly recognizing that fearful look on her face. “My parents house,” she answered.

Oh. Oh. This could take them out of the frying pan and into the fire. Damnit, she wished she’d known this earlier. For a second, Octavia stopped, swallowing hard and thinking - would they have better chances going back and dealing with the ponies above? Or better to keep going?

Vinyl broke her thought process. “It’s alright. It’s into their basement and there is a way right out. Not a problem, we won’t see them or anypony else. I swear,” she promised.

They wouldn’t have to go much longer. The tunnel did eventually end, bottoming out in front of them and leading towards a door, a simple wooden one. Octavia heard nothing but silence on the other side, nothing to scare them off, nothing to keep them away. She swallowed and swallowed hard, fear gripping her heart as her hoof shook. Vinyl led the way, pressing forward and opening the door slow, carefully… naturally, it still let out quite the creaking noise.

The basement itself didn’t look too impressive. It might have been a wine cellar once upon a time, now replaced with old, decrepit furniture that seemed to have no use or was broken beyond repair. Nothing stood out about it except for its size, the thing crawling and rather massive. Even now, Octavia could see a light coming from one side. The exit, it had to be.

This time, Octavia lead the way and the two moved in utter silence, not disturbing a thing, not making too much noise, just doing their absolute best to keep unnoticed. It was difficult, especially with the way that her lover gasped and rasped as they moved, each step labored and painful for the one she so cherished. But it wouldn’t be far. Two dozen yards, maybe a bit more around some furniture.

Truly, that was the hardest part of it, getting over all the mess. White sheets covered the majority of it, but it was solid enough to either move or climb on top of and around. Not too bad, had they both been healthy.

But they weren’t, and they weren’t going to get Vinyl care unless they got out of there. They’d made it, made it to the exit, Octavia letting out a small grunt as she pushed open the cellar doors. Bright, white sunlight of Celestia’s sun shone through, illuminating the space around them and blinding Octavia for a few seconds.

In front of them, a pleasant area sat, a small garden with a table set up with tea and all. There were snacks as well as perfectly filled up cups, a lovely little space to enjoy the afternoon sun. It wasn’t what Octavia expected. She expected something darker, something more sinister for mobsters, but this seemed so normal that it made it hard to connect in her mind.

What surprised her even more was that there were two mares sitting at the table. One didn’t bring much attention to herself, just a standard, non descript mare. There was likely something interesting about her, but Octavia focused so much on the other that it stayed far, far away from her head.

The other mare looked exactly like Vinyl. A spitting image, but slightly older, though she wore nice, white flowing dress instead of the usual punk wear that Vinyl did. She even had the same red eyes, eyes that were staring right at the two.

“Sweetie?” the mare asked, her voice soft and delicate sounding.

“Hey Mom,” Vinyl answered.