Not Worth A Bit

by Dsarker

Part 2

For it was that day that I dreamed of that freed me.

It was one of the few performances outside the Gala season that we were hired for. It's funny, I guess. I remember it more from the dream than from reality. It was the third song, and Blueblood came in.

It was the dream come to life, and yet different.

He came to the stage, to me. I tried to keep concentrating. But I faltered, and stopped.

He said those fateful words. "Octavia, your music is not worth one bit."

I closed my eyes to keep the tears from flowing. My face fell. Unexpectedly, it was lifted. I opened my eyes. Blueblood was there, holding my face in his hooves, an expression I'd never seen on anypony's face on his.

Love.

"Your music is worth more than could be encompassed in the world, for it is yours. Please, for me, play it once more." He kissed me, and left the stage. I lifted up the cello once more, raised the bow, and played it once more, unaccompanied by the others. It was the worst I'd ever played, and more. But he stood there, entranced by it.

He loved my music, and he loved me. He tried to romance me, but he fumbled his way through it. I loved him anyway. He was unlike all the others I had met. He only wished for me to play for him. He could listen for hours as I practiced, then give me effusive praise.

Then, one fateful day, the cello broke, mid-practice. He stared on, seemingly stupified. He dropped to the ground. I ran to him. He didn't know quite was wrong, but he couldn't think. He just shook. I was there for almost an hour when the guards came in and asked me to leave. I looked up, and I saw Celestia watching. A tear ran down her face as her eyes met mine. I fled the hall.

Back in my room, I tried to keep to my previous lifestyle, making everything last as long as it could. I was without instrument, and without it, I had no way to survive the next year. It was a meaningless effort, and I knew it, but I did it anyway.

Someone left a cello by my door, again anonymous. I cried, silently. I hated the instrument. But it was all I had. I resumed my practice daily. I finally had the emotion my playing had never had before. I had learned the music, but now I had part of the feeling behind it. It was a haunting feeling, and though I was a masterful player, even on the happy, cheerful songs, there was not a dry face in the audience. I saw him sometimes, again. Hiding in my performance. He sometimes left flowers. He could never see me face to face.

I never knew why, though. Was it me or him? Was I, once again, worth less than a bit? Or was it that he was ashamed for me, that he had broken some unspoken rule I did not know? Or was it shame for himself, that he had loved and lost?

Comments

What happened to him? Did her music give him a heart attack or something?

[Slag]

I'm pretty sure that he just freaked out when the cello broke. One of those breaking would likely be very startling.

[Dsarker]

55794

I think I've seen you around before....

In any case, it was the cello breaking, yes.

[Fervidor]

55785

Corazón malherido por cinco espadas.