The Sweetest Music

Chapter Twenty-One

Yesterdays

***

This is a damn joke.

Lyra's thoughts could be well applied to both Alexandro's proposal - or, rather, imperative deal forced upon her and Bon-Bon (she still couldn't understand why the stallion took an interest in Bon-Bon all of a sudden: he couldn't know... Lyra attributed that to Alexandro's value of friendship that he couldn't fail to see between the two mares) - and to the fact that she, once again, was on a train.

The first-class compartment seemed ugly and ridiculous to her. The fact that she couldn't even hold her mare close to her heart - the law, the social mores - was driving her insane. The fact that her mother had died and she couldn't even cry scared her to no avail.

Alexandro didn't give them an option to make a choice - and she didn't want to cross a marefia boss; so, naturally, they had to obey and be thankful for the terms: just as they had to obey, always, the world around them. And try to be thankful. But... he didn't give her, Lyra Heartstrings, a choice, the mare realised suddenly - or, maybe, it had been a gradual realisation. Bon-Bon, however... Would she go with her on such a journey - a trip of change, a leap into the unknown? She looked at her mare, whose beautiful eyes were staring out of window as the confectioner seemed to be thinking something. Maybe she's considering just that, Lyra thought. She had to ask her - when they got home. To the current home. Canterlot. But she was so afraid to hear the answer, despite - or probably in spite of - hoping and pretty much knowing that it would be affirmative. Positive. The answer that she wanted to hear - and that she still was afraid to hear.

She was afraid that she wouldn't be able to give Bon-Bon what she needed and wanted, as cliche as it sounded in her mind. But it was so; she was also afraid that she was going slightly insane - or, more insane that she usually was - with being unable to even cry.

Had her heart grown that dispassionate? She knew she was a passionate pony deep inside, a pony with vivid feelings that she had suppress-

A loud snore from Bon-Bon made Lyra smile and lose that trail of thought. However, a frown soon made its way onto her face as she remembered just what Alexandro had failed to tell her - them. About Discreet Heart. There was obviously something terribly fishy about him, if even a marefia boss was after him. But what in Tartarus was he? Will I ever know? Lyra sighed, leaning back, feeling sleep again overwhelming her, supplying rustic images of Ponyville, and the things they had to pack - will Bon-Bon have to move her utensils? Lyra placed her head against the cold glass of the window. And, even if I never know, do I really care? She yawned, feeling the mild vibration from the seat beneath her cradling her.

Will I ever care?

***

Bon-Bon gazed at her mare lovingly and passionately as she watched her sip tea in silence. The dining room seemed warm and pleasant. She felt somewhat cosy - maybe because she had closed all the curtains in every room of the spacious Canterlot mansion, and shut the door, triple checking the lock while Lyra was making tea.

She had a wild desire to pounce her mare straightaway, and would have done so, enjoying the rare moment of safety and privacy, if it weren't for the feeling of guilt welling inside her as she looked at Lyra: she, Bon-Bon, was so happy to move, to start a new life with her mare! She had contemplated it on the train on their way here, and had come to the conclusion, that life, through Alexadro Philarmonico, had given them a gift, and that they had to cherish this gift. After all, it couldn't get worse, could it? And even if it could, wasn't an opportunity to face adversity side by side with her mare better than... Well, no, it wasn't better than just living side by side with her mare in Ponyville, facing no adversity whatsoever, apart from being threatened - perspectively threatened, at least - to be found out and punished. But they hadn't had a choice in the matter - they just didn't have a choice. And the fact that Alexandro had decided for them wasn't, in the end, bugging her that greatly.

But the guilt was welling inside her chest, crushing her: she was happy, but her mare was not. It was only obvious: losing one's mother was most possibly the most terrible kind of adversity one could ever endure. But Bon-Bon felt guilty not just because of being happy - or, at least, feeling happy: that wasn't that terrible, given that she really did sympathise with her mare. She felt guility - was guilty - because she couldn't bring herself to mourn Marianna's death. Why would she? Marianna was just another face in the crowd to her - just another pony she'd lied to. Why? Because she was my mare's mother. And I have to be there for Lyra. She needed to offer her mare a helping hoof, a shoulder to cry into. She needed for her to know that she would always be there for her - and with her. "I'll always be with you, Lyra, honey," Bon-Bon broke the silence. "I know that you probably know that already but I just wanted to say that. Wherever we go-"

The dam broke.

Lyra threw herself onto Bon-Bon, almost knocking the cream-coloured mare off the chair as she tried to gulp down the tears that were now streaming freely as her breath became shallow, troubled, abrupt: the tears of hysteria blocked her senses, made her physically hurt. Bon-Bon's words were just the trigger - if they were, of course, a trigger - for the emotion that Lyra had been holding for so long - way too long. She wanted to tell Bon-Bon how hurt she was, and how she was afraid, and how much she loved her mother, and how much she loved her, Bon-Bon - but the tears and the gulping, the painful, terrible gulping, were blocking the way.

Soon, she felt a little light-headed and sleepy: she had been getting sleep only in short spurs recently, mostly on train rides. She just couldn't sleep at night that well, instead just watching Bon-Bon snore peacefully next to her, or getting up for a smoke next to the moonlight-covered window. Now, though, she had a distinct feeling she would be getting a good sleep, given the mental and physical exhaustion - that feeling may be not conscious, with her current state, but there was definitely such a feeling, and it seemed true. As true as it could be.

Bon-Bon held her mare in a tight embrace, both happiness and guilt fading in the wake of eternal compassion pouring out of her soul and - she hoped - straight into Lyra's. She stroked the minty mane and whispered words of love in comfort into Lyra's ear, up to the moment she felt the mare's breath regain a certain extent of stability and then heard soft, dreamy whistling. The cream-coloured mare lifted her sleeping mare and placed her on her back, heading for the bedroom.

Finally, Lyra would be getting some good, peaceful sleep, which she so needed for the upcoming meeting with Discreet Heart, and which she so deserved.