"Farmhoof" is an awful word and typing it made me want to throw up. Just so you know. Also, if you're like me, you keep reading "the Gilded Trumpet" as "Gilda's Trumpet." And if you didn't before, you probably will now.

SO! Here's the last chapter. Chapter 2 has been fixed and is no longer identical to chapter 1. I've got a few other things that I'm working on, but nothing…in depth. No clue what my next submission will be or when it will happen. I'm busy these days, but I still write. So don't hold your breath, but EVENTUALLY there will be something new going up.

I'm…unimpressed by the ending here. I don't know if I like it or not, but I don't think I have the motivation to come back and fiddle with it some more. It's also late, and I'm tired and on some medication for a cold so I'm feeling uninspired. Bleh.

As the afternoon wore on Lucky couldn't help but sulk over what had happened to Octavia. When he finally couldn't stand it he bought some flowers (at what he suspected was a ridiculously high price) and tried to pay her a visit.

The hotel receptionist remembered him, which was not a good sign. Lucky had gone through all the trouble of getting dressed up again –just in case the situation warranted- and he didn't appreciate the snobbish mare looking down her snout at him. "I'm quite certain that Miss Amati would have told me if she were expecting a visitor," she told him.

"Just send up the flowers," Lucky insisted. "Tell her that I'd really like to talk to her."

For a moment he thought that nopony in the entire building was going to lift a hoof to help him, but a shockingly burly stallion in a nice suit appeared out of nowhere to take the flowers away. That's one big pony, Lucky thought. I didn't realize that a place like this would need a bouncer. Maybe rich ponies are all angry drunks. The thought cheered him for some reason.

After an uncomfortable wait in the lobby Lucky was grateful when the burly pony returned and whispered something to the receptionist. "Very well," she sighed, and turned to look at Lucky. "She will see you."

"Which is what I said when I first walked in," Lucky muttered, but not so loudly that she would hear him. "What's her room number?"

"Mr. Hoofington will show you," the receptionist said, and then busily set about pretending that he had never intruded upon her day. Lucky rolled his eyes and followed the stallion up several floors of stairs. The crazily glamorous setting that had been intriguing before was starting to get on his nerves. It was all well and good when something shined, but everything gleamed in this place. It was hard on his eyes and very distracting.

"Here," Mr. Hoofington rumbled in a voice that sounded like a boulder rolling down a mountainside. He turned away and left without another word. Lucky knocked on the door and waited while somepony shuffled about inside.

After a moment the door creaked open and Octavia looked out at him. She'd removed her makeup, which made the red around her eyes more obvious. "Hey," he said, for lack of any other ideas.

"I'm sorry, Lucky. I know we planned to do something tonight but I don't think it would be a good idea."

"I understand. You alright?"

Octavia smiled and tried in vain to rub some of the wetness from her eyes. "Fine," she insisted. When Lucky didn't look impressed she sighed and leaned against the doorframe. "Please, don't worry about me. I know I look like a mess, but I'm really quite alright."

Lucky cleared his throat and shuffled his hooves, worried that he was about to say something foalish. "You're a mighty smart mare, Octavia. You don't need me to tell you how hard that is to believe."

Octavia sighed heavily. "Well fine, but I still want to be alone."

"I insist exactly the opposite," Lucky argued. "That means you'd just stay here and wallow in misery, which is a downright awful idea."

Octavia stared listlessly at the floor. "I don't feel like jazz," she mumbled. "I don't know what I feel like."

"We don't have to go anywhere like that," Lucky assured her. "We could just go for a walk if you like."

Lucky snuck a quick look into her room and saw an overturned music stand. It had been thrown against the wall with quite a bit of force judging from the scratched wallpaper. "Why don't we get out of here?" he asked. "Some fresh air might do you good."

Octavia smiled tiredly. "I think I'd like that."

For such a large city Canterlot had a definite lack of any consistent lighting. Streetlamps gave way to moonlit streets, which then led to more streetlamps and brightly lit storefront windows. The atmosphere seemed to change with each new light source, going from warm and cozy to cool and tranquil, then switching back again as though unable to make up its mind.

Octavia was in better spirits, but Lucky decided that almost anything would have been an improvement over her feelings in the hotel. He hadn't wanted to jump right into a conversation about her failed audition, so he asked about her subsequent outburst instead. She seemed a bit frustrated that he hadn't forgotten about it.

"I was not born into wealth like most Canterlot musicians. I come from a long line of farmers. Most ponies wouldn't consider that a noble upbringing, so I decided to give them what they expected rather than the truth. I became so sophisticated that I could hardly recognize myself afterward. I even started using a different name."

Lucky rolled his eyes. "Sure, because folks like Eighth Harmonic are worth all that. Can I ask you somethin'?"

"I suppose."

"What's so important about this gig? You must have another, what with the fancy hotel you're staying at. Who cares if a stuffy old unicorn doesn't think you're good enough?" He took a calming breath and tried to reorder his thoughts. "I don't mean to tread on your dream, but you're a great musician and you know it. Why bother with somepony that's never going to give you a fair shot?"

Octavia walked in silence, her eyes never leaving the ground. Lucky wasn't sure if she was sad or just lost in thought. "I don't need the money," she admitted. "I want to play for Celestia. I want a goddess to admire my music. Maybe then I wouldn't have the nagging feeling that I've been wasting my time."

"You got no reason to feel that way," Lucky assured her. "Ain't nopony's business, questioning your dreams." He stopped walking abruptly as an idea forcefully invaded his head.

"What is it?" Octavia asked. "What's the matter?"

Lucky grinned. "I've got an idea. Would you mind going back for your cello?"

Octavia eyed him doubtfully. "I…suppose not. What kind of idea is this exactly?"

"Well, you know how sometimes an idea is so great that there's no way it could fail?"

"Yes."

"This ain't one of those ideas, but it might make you feel better. Let's get goin' and I'll explain on the way."

Two hours later Octavia was contemplating the stone wall in front of her. "You were right about this idea," she said. "It is far from perfect. How is this supposed to make me feel better, exactly?"

"You get to play for Celestia," Lucky reminded her. "That has to mean something." He shimmied up a tree that stood close to the wall and stepped onto the walkway above. "Come on; let's get goin' before one of the guards sees us!"

"Wait!" Octavia hissed. "Why are you doing this?"

"I don't see any other way over the castle walls."

Octavia rolled her eyes. "Not that," she whispered. "I meant, why are you doing this for me? You hardly know me. We only met two days ago."

Lucky was struggling to keep his balance as he climbed, but he spared a moment to answer her. "That ain't true. I know you well enough to see that you're a good pony. You're one of the nicest mares I ever had the chance to meet. Why wouldn't I help?"

Octavia found herself at a loss for words. Instead she just passed him her cello case and climbed up the tree as well as she was able. "'Atta girl," Lucky chuckled. "Don't worry; the gardens are open to the public during the day. We can just say we lost track of time and got locked in."

They descended the wall's opposite face, passing the cello down carefully before moving into the gardens. The closest they came to discovery was when an elderly gardener strolled by, whistling tunelessly and oblivious to their presence. "Security seems a bit lax," Octavia remarked. "I haven't seen a single guard."

"Course it is. If Celestia can drag the sun across the sky then she can take care of herself. Anything bad enough to threaten her wouldn't be worried about her guards, right? Then there's Luna to think about. Between the two of them I bet the castle is plenty safe with a few token guards."

Lucky stopped her beneath a balcony. "Listen!" he whispered. Octavia cocked an ear and heard a musical cooing noise. "What is it Philomeena?" a gentle voice asked. Celestia peeked outside and looked down at them. "Oh my. What are you two doing in the gardens this late at night?"

Octavia tried to answer, but her throat tightened up and choked her. Her knees started to shake and she knew that before long she would break into a sweat. Stage fright, worse than any she had ever felt before, rooted her to the spot and rendered her helpless. "Is something wrong?" Celestia asked. "You look ill."

"Just a moment, your highness!" Lucky called. He tapped Octavia on the shoulder and got no response. "Hey, focus!" he urged. What's the matter?

Octavia looked at him with wide, anxious eyes. "I don't know if I can do this. She's probably thousands of years old. She's heard the greatest musicians in history playing in person! Nothing that I play could hold a candle to that!"

A gentle hoof on her shoulder helped calm her down, but not by much. "You've got nothin' to worry about," Lucky assured her. "You just play like you've been playing. Do what comes natural to you. Trust me, you're good enough for this. Celestia ain't no different from any other audience."

"I firmly disagree."

"Fine," Lucky sighed. "Grab your cello and let's head home. I guess Eighth Harmonic gets the last laugh."

Octavia was silent for a long time. Finally she grabbed her cello case and opened it. "You did that on purpose," she accused.

"No idea what you're talking about."

After warming up with a few quick melodies Octavia looked up and smiled nervously. "My name is Octavia Amati, your majesty. I've always wanted to play for you, but I failed my audition for the Alicorn Sisters Orchestra. Please, can I play for you now?"

Celestia leaned on the balcony's railing and smiled. "It has been a rather long day. Some music sounds wonderful." Octavia spared Lucky an elated look, then immediately threw herself into the music and never looked back.

While the bow was dancing across the strings Octavia looked completely unaware of her surroundings. She no longer worried about who was watching or wondered if she was good enough; she played, and the rest of the world stopped to listen.

The song ended and Lucky realized he had been holding his breath. Octavia looked up at Celestia and waited on her verdict. "Wait here," the princess said, and trotted back into her room.

"Maybe we should go," Octavia ventured. "What if she's calling the guards?"

"She wouldn't," Lucky assured her. "This is really important to you. She has to understand that, right?"

Moments later Celestia returned. Walking with her was the smaller, darker shape of Princess Luna. "Miss Amati?" she called. "If it isn't too much to ask, would you please play again?"

Octavia did as she was asked. Two goddesses and one extremely impressed farmhoof listened. The song ended and another began, followed by yet another. Octavia once again degenerated into the same beautiful mess that Lucky had seen that first day in the concert hall. He sat back and watched, happy that she had escaped into her element and forgotten all about how nervous she'd been.

Eventually the music had to stop. Celestia and Luna talked quietly as Otavia packed up her cello. "You were right," Luna whispered. "She is quite skilled. It is a shame that she couldn't get into our orchestra."

"I wish that I could say I have no idea how she failed her audition," Celestia said dryly. "Tomorrow I think I'll have a very unpleasant talk with a similarly unpleasant unicorn. Eighth Harmonic is a great conductor and has been very helpful over the years, but his bias is inexcusable."

"I agree," Luna sighed. "I have met him only twice and I already dislike him."

"Perhaps I can make him see thinks my way. I can be very persuasive." She noticed Luna staring at her and asked "What?"

"Ask him if he can breathe on the moon."

"I don't think that would be appropriate." Celestia tapped a hoof on her chin in consideration. "But it might be fun to play a joke on him." Luna pranced eagerly as Celestia rolled her eyes. "We'll talk about it later."

In the garden below Octavia was waiting anxiously for a review of her performance. "Your music is wonderful!" Celestia said. "If I may be so bold, would you tell me where I can contact you later?"

Octavia squealed and hugged the stallion that had accompanied her. "How sweet," Luna giggled. "She brought her coltfriend along. They make a nice couple."

"Indeed they do." Celestia almost called down to them again, but thought better of it. "Perhaps we should give them some privacy. I'm sure they have a lot to talk about."

"Agreed!" Luna said a little too loudly. She was still trying to break the habit of using the royal Canterlot voice when talking to her subjects. "I have duties to attend to." She rose up and waved to the two ponies below. "Farewell, musician! We wish you a pleasant evening with your suitor!"

Celestia frowned and thought about pushing her sister from the balcony. Instead she dragged Luna inside and shut the doors, leaving Octavia and Lucky alone in the garden. Both of them were looking absolutely everywhere except at each other.

Later, as the smooth jazz music flowed over them and the dim lighting threatened to put them to sleep, Lucky and Octavia enjoyed one final drink at the Gilded Trumpet. "We'll be going home soon," Lucky ventured. "I don't know when I'll be in Canterlot again."

Octavia was already half asleep and a little tipsy. "I understand. I assume that you'll be going back to your farm."

"Eeyup. Buckin' season is still a ways off, but there's always work to be done." Lucky sipped his drink to stall for time while he tried to work up a little courage. He didn't quite have enough yet, so he had to ask something else. "Didn't you say you started using a different name when you became a musician?"

Octavia giggled and waived to the band's trumpet player, who Lucky recognized with a start was another pony that had auditioned for the Alicorn Sisters Orchestra. "My real name is Inkarella Elizabeth Pie. Just…don't tell anypony."

"Inkarella?" Lucky asked, doing his best to keep a straight face. "That's, uh, a real nice name."

"Just call me Inky. I love my parents, but I question their naming conventions."

"Well I can't say that I blame you. Whoever you are, I'm glad we ran into each other."

"As am I, Lucky. Thank you for believing in me."

Music continued to play, but Lucky was still having trouble relaxing. "Hey, Octavia?" he asked. "I guess you'll be playin' in that orchestra now, right?"

"I would assume so," Octavia said. "Why?"

Lucky shifted uncomfortable in his seat. "No reason." He tried his best to ignore the look she was giving him. "Oh fine, if you insist. I'll be going home tomorrow or the next day. I'm worried we won't see each other again."

Octavia ("Inky", Lucky corrected himself) raised an eyebrow in mild disbelief. "That might be sweet, but it's hardly rational. I want to see you again just as much as you want to see me, and there's no reason that I can't visit."

"Really?"

The dim lighting made it hard to see that "Inky" ("This is going to get annoying," Lucky thought) was moving. By the time Lucky noticed she had already slid across the booth and was leaning against him. "Don't be silly," she said. "Musicians need vacations just like everypony else."

"Well that's good to know," Lucky sighed happily. "We can write in the meantime, if that's alright."

Octavia kissed him and rested her head on his shoulder. "I certainly intend to. Besides, I have a sister in Ponyville that I haven't seen in ages. It might be nice to visit."

"Inky Pie," Lucky said thoughtfully. "Funny, I know a baker named Pinkie Pie."

"Then you know my sister."

"She's an interesting character," Lucky said. "She actually tells everypony she grew up on a rock farm. Can you believe that?"

Inky raised an eyebrow. "Of course I can. What's not to believe?"

Lucky considered his response very carefully. "Nothing," he finally said. "Nothing at all."

"Whatever you say," Octavia said with a shrug. She went back to resting against him and after a little while he could tell that she'd fallen asleep.

Lucky almost gave up fighting to stay awake. He was comfortable here, and Octavia was a warm presence that put him further at ease. In the end he knew he couldn't go to sleep because his family would be waiting to talk to him. He didn't want them to think that anything inappropriate had happened. Especially since Princess Luna yelled loud enough that the whole city could hear, he thought with a grin.

Actually, staying awake wasn't all that bad. He felt Octavia shift a little as she mumbled something in her sleep. If he paid close attention he could feel her pulse, beating slowly alongside the calming music. No, he decided, staying awake wasn't bad at all; right now it felt like the waking world had a lot more to offer than what his dreams could provide.