Una Nota Dolce Chapter 3 - Con Affeto

>It takes you about an hour to describe for Octavia your life to this point.
>Considering how hazy your memories are prior to your arrival in Equestria, even you are surprised at how much you have to talk about.
>As you finished your abbreviated biography, Octavia stares at you intently.
>”…and that’s it?”
>What do you mean that’s it? My life not good enough for you?
“Well…you asked the question, you got your answer.”
>Octavia frowns, her expression softening. “No, that’s not what I meant. What I meant was…how did you get your lo-“
>”Anon, darling, Rarity has returned!”
>Indeed she has.
>Your white-coated employer busts through the door like she owns the place.
>She does own the place.
>Brain, I will tolerate none of your logic here!
>Rarity goes about, setting down her belongings around the shop, not even noticing your guest.
>”Oh Anon, you should have stuck around! Every p0ny kept asking me about you! I even got some very prestigious p0nies interested in my fashions because they came to ask me about you! Dare say I should pay you a bonus.”
“Oh?” I like money.
>”Even that little tart you showed up, what was her name…Octavia?”
>You glance at Octavia.
>She doesn’t say a word, she just glances between you and Rarity, obviously…annoyed.
“Yeah…Octavia.”
>”Yes, her.” Rarity begins pulling bolts of fabric from her bags, arranging them along the wall.
>”I heard what she did to you before your little performance…I never knew you knew how to play like that! You should be a musician!”
“So it would seem…”
>Octavia’s starting to turn red. Whether out of anger or embarrassment, you can’t tell.
>”I swear, the nerve of some p0nies…she seemed rather intent on meeting you.”
>Ok, now you know it’s embarrassment. Octavia rubs her cheek a little, looking away from the both of you.
>”Besides, what’s with that silly bow tie? That just looks gauche on a lady!”
>Octavia’s anger burns with a fire of a thousand suns.
>You better do something.
>No, really?
“I don’t know, Rarity, I think it looks nice on her.”
>Octavia looks up at you. She doesn’t say a word, but her expression screams “Seriously?”
>Rarity finally turns around to look at you. “Seriously Anon, surely working here as long as you have you would have learned someth…ing….about……..fashion……”
>Rarity stares at Octavia.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B3lLYOGDsts
>Octavia stares back at Rarity.
……
>…….
>……..
>You clear your throat.
“Rarity, we have a guest.”
>”Yes….welcome to my humble shop.” Rarity stammers out, completely flustered.
>”A pleasure,” Octavia replies curtly.
“Yes…well…if it’s alright with you Rarity, I’ll take the rest of the afternoon off, give Miss Octavia a tour of P0nyville.”
>”Oh….yes, quite….go right on ahead Anonymous.”
>Without a word, you and Octavia stand and leave Carousel Boutique, carrying the violin case with you under your arm.

-----------

>Octavia’s mood seems to brighten as you give her the penny tour of your new hometown, her cello case bouncing happily on her back as she trots alongside you.
>P0nyville isn’t a terribly big place, but you still show Octavia your favorite places.
>First is Sugarcube Corner. The line is sticking out the door, so you don’t stop inside.
>This place is always busy this time of the afternoon.
>Second is the library. Octavia looks up at the architecture of the tree. “Impressive.”
“Really? I figured you lived in Manehattan, large buildings would be the norm for you.”
>Octavia snorts and bumps you slightly. “It’s not the size, it’s the nature. Out of all the places I’ve been, I’ve never seen an inhabited tree like this.”
“Oh? You travel a lot?”
>Octavia looks down. “Well, I kind of have to. Travelling all the time is tiring…demand for my kind of performance isn’t...high these days.”
>She looks like she’s about to cry.
>HNNNNNNNNNNGH.
>Heart? Is something wrong?
>You sigh a little and pat Octavia on the shoulder.
“It’s ok…you’re happy, right?”
>Octavia looks at you, eyes still moist, yet wide in obvious surprise and maybe a little shock.
>You smile warmly.
“If you’re happy, then it’s all worth it.”
>You can feel Octavia quiver a little under your hand, opening her mouth like she wants to say something.
>”Hey bro, how hangs it?”
>What? That’s an odd thing for Octavia to say.
>And why does she sound like Spike?
>”Bro, up here.”
>The two of you look up to see Spike hanging out of the window. Since you work for Rarity, he’s been more interested in hanging out with you.
>It’s not hard to deduce why.
>Still, he’s a cool little bro.
“Hey Spike, just showing my guest around town.”
>You motion to Octavia, who bows her head daintily.
>Spike waves. “Hello there. Sorry, but Twilight got called away by the Princess while rearranging the library, so she asked me to keep it closed.
>”Oh, that’s a shame.” Octavia truly looks disappointed.
“Maybe next time…Oh, Spike.”
>”Yeah?”
“The you-know-what is placed in the you-know-where.”
>Spike blushes furiously. “T-thanks…”
>Octavia giggles a little as the two of you walk away. “What was that about?”
>You just chuckle as you stick your hands in your pockets.
“Remember my boss, Rarity?”
>Octavia’s face deadpans. “Yes.”
“Well, Spike has a bit of a crush on her, so he’ll ask me to leave these really sappy love notes around her room for her to find.”
>Octavia just stares at you as the two of you continue walking.
>”…you’re kidding.”
“Oh no. These are some of the cheesiest letters you’ve ever read.”
>You’re coming up on the shores of the Highland Reservoir. The two of you stop by the edge as you sit down, taking your shoes and socks off and letting your feet dangle in the cool, clear waters.
>Octavia just stares at you intently, shrugging her cello off her back as she sits next to you. You set the violin down next to that.
>”Oh I don’t know, I’ve seen some pretty cheesy things.”
>You clear your throat and put on your best Spike impersonation.
“OH, QUEEN OF MY HEART, YOUR LOVING GAZE BURNS LIKE AN EMBER IN THE RAREST OF FIRE RUBIES. TO GAZE UPON YOU IS SWEET, MELODIOUS TORTURE!”
>Octavia can barely contain her sides as she rolls onto her back laughing, her hind hooves kicking into the air.
>You won’t tell her you help Spike write his letters.
>She’s still chuckling as she pulls herself back into a sitting position, using your arm as leverage to haul herself back up.
>The two of you sit and look at P0nyville, cast in warm shadows behind the setting sun.
>”It sure is nice here.”
>Is she leaning on you?
>I think she’s just tired, brain.
“Yeah…I love coming up here at this time of day. In the summer, when it gets hot, I might even go swimming.”
>Octavia just hums in response before the air grows silent again.
>”…Anon.”
>At first, the sound made your jimmies rustle, but…no, that’s not it.
“Yes, Octavia?”
>”You never did answer my question.”
“Which was…”
>”….how did you get your love for music?”
>Wait, that’s it?
“Well, that’s easy. My mother.”
>Octavia looks up at you, more surprised than you would expect her to be.
>You become more cognizant of the raven-haired mare leaning against your side as you look down at those wide violet eyes.
>”Really?”
“Well…yeah. She would sing in the community choir and such. She never made money off it, but she loved it…and after spending so many years listening to her sing, I grew to love it too.”
>Octavia just closed her eyes and leans into you further.
>Is she cold?
>I don’t think so, Anon.
>What do you mean, brain?
>*sigh* Nothing.
>”She sounds like a wonderful mother.”
“Yeah…she was.”
>Octavia jolts upright, looking at you again. “Was?”
>You look into the water with a half-hearted smile, kicking the surface and watching the water spray up.
“Yeah…she died when I was a teenager. It was kind of sudden, yeah, but it was a long time ago…”
>With a sigh, you lean back on your elbows, staring at the amber sky.
“That’s why I went to music school, made a career out of classical performance. I wanted her to be proud of me, wherever she was.”
>You blink as Octavia hovers over your field of vision, with a new look on her face you can’t quite place.
>Compassionate.
>Thanks, brain…wait, what?
>”You know, we’re not so different after all.”
>You don’t respond.
>How can you respond?
>The two of you just sit there staring at each other, both unable to form a cognizant thought to act or speak, with just the sound of your breathing to offset the trickle of water feeding the reservoir.
>A bush rustles.
>Both of you bolt upright, mock-coughing and blushing furiously like a stop light.
“So…uh…heading back to Manehattan then?”
>Octavia regains her composure and sighs. “No…I rather like this town, it’s…quaint…I was hoping to…”
“Hoping to…what?”
>”Well…you know….stay awhile. Like a vacation.”
>Damnit, why did she have to look at you with those big violet eyes…
>You scratch the back of your head, looking away in a vain attempt to hide your flushed face.
“P0nyville doesn’t exactly get a lot of tourists, and I don’t…know of any…place you could stay…”
>Octavia’s ears fold down, looking at the water. “Oh…I see…”
>She looks so…disappointed.
>Wait…Anon, what are you…
“Though…I suppose, if you really wanted, I have a guest room at my house you could stay in.”
>ANON, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?
>….
>Anon, this is your brain. Remember how much of a bitch she was to you just a few days ag-
>….
>Mute button, you are my only friend.
>You were too busy with your inner monologue to notice Octavia’s face light up like the setting sun. In fact, you only notice it when she nearly tackles you into the reservoir in joy.
>You blink and stare at this mare now squeezing your neck.
>Those eyes….
>Octavia blinks and realizes what she’s doing. She quickly regains her composure and puts on her noble air, coughing lightly to dispel the warm pink hue in her cheeks.
>”Well…considering how rude I was to you before, it would be rude of me to refuse your generous offer.”
“Well…glad that’s settled.”
>”Quite.”
>A silence falls over the scene again.
>Are those your jimmies rustling?
>No, just a bush behind you.
>A bush with pale yellow wings.
>You and Octavia both look at the bush with raised eyebrows.
….
>The bush sneezes lightly.
“Fluttershy, shrubberies are not my fetish.”
>The bush speaks, softly.
>“Oh…..ok….”
>And with that, the bush flaps its wings and flies off.
>Octavia just blinks.
>”Does…does that happen often?”
“Not as much as it used to.”