Ninety-nine percent of Elliot and Ethyl's days were everyday life. But unlike any other day, today was different. Elliot had come in early for his afternoon tea break, and washed up before putting on his nicer clothes. Today was the day that the siblings were adopting a colt from the Canterlot orphanage, and in a few hours, he'd arrive at the train station at the edge of town. Elliot needed to be there around the same time as he arrived, in the hope that the boy wouldn't wait long.
"Do be careful!" Ethyl called after him from the kitchen. He simply met her eyes and nodded, setting his hat atop his head. With haste, he was out the door, hopping into the carriage he had hired for the day. As soon as he sat, the carriage was off.
Unlike most, Elliot preferred to keep to himself. This town was small, and every pony knew every pony. If you had a secret, it was hard to keep as such. Not that Elliot had any, he just preferred to let others do the talking and he would listen.
He had passed by the glen that Fanny Barnett called home, down through a road lined with cherry trees, of which were currently blooming with white floral beauty in an arch of whimsy. The train will be arriving from Canterlot soon! Elliot did not wish to be late in greeting the colt he would be picking up, or at the very least, did not want him to wait long. He could only hope he’d arrive on time.
On his way, Elliot passed many recognizable ponies. Mainly, Elliot waved to the Harringtons who were unicorns, Sebastian Cadden, a young pegasus, and some young fillies on their way to school, amongst whom he recognized Mintie Harrington.
The carriage took Elliot through the remainder of town and backroads to the train station. The sight before him as he hopped out of the carriage was a nearly empty station, save for one pink pegasus filly and her single saddlebag, and the station master, who looked as though he was preparing to leave.
"Sir!" Elliot strode up to the station master's window.
"Elliot! What can I do for you?" the station master replied, tilting his hat politely.
"Aye, I'm looking for a colt. He should have arrived on the last train. Mrs. Edwards was supposed to accompany one here?" Elliot tilted his hat in return.
"All she brought was that little filly there," the station master said, brushing his mutton chops with one hoof and gesturing to the pink pegasus and her single saddle bag. She was looking elsewhere, but her ears were turned towards them.
Elliot tilted his head in confusion, but figured he had to at least get the filly home for the night, and see what went wrong in the morning. No crying over spilled milk, his mother would say. Elliot nonchalantly shrugged at the station master as he was leaving, and approached the filly, who’s head turned towards the sound of approaching hoofsteps.
Her bright green eyes widened in an emotion Elliot couldn’t quite read, her wings fluffing at her sides. Elliot offered her a smile, and she returned it hastily, standing before her wings put her off balance and she yelped and fell face first on the wooden platform. They were big wings for such a skinny filly! Her wiry, ginger hair splayed every which way, and she groaned. Her dress, which looked too small for the filly, also splayed.
Elliot gently offered out a hoof as she lifted her face from the ground. At first, she cowered in fear, but realized he was trying to help her. She took his hoof gently, standing up with all the grace she could muster. Elliot didn’t question why she flinched. It was not his business.
“Come now,” Elliot began, watching the filly as she fixed her mane. “We’ve got to get you home, it's this way to the carriage,” he said, turning to leave. She trotted up behind him to catch up, meeting his pace at his side.
She followed in silence, Elliot occasionally looking back to make sure she was keeping up. He helped her into the carriage first, then hopped in, signaling to the one pulling it was time to head back.
The filly fidgeted in her seat, debating whether or not she wanted to speak. Elliot may be a quiet stallion, but he knew and could tell when somepony was holding in thoughts.
“You look like you have something on your mind, little miss,” he said, winking at her.
“Oh! I am ever so excited to finally be going to a home, a real home! I’ve been adopted out so many times and returned I was sure I’d never have this happen! Why, it’s a dream come true! You don’t know how many times I’ve pinched myself on the way here!” the filly squealed in excitement, beaming up at Elliot, who met her eyes and offered a smile back. He was going to answer in reply, but the filly just kept going!
“I can’t wait to see your home! I bet it is as wonderful as you are! I can just imagine it now! Oh! Where I lived, in the orphanage? It didn’t provide much scope for the imagination; But there is so much possibility and I’ve imagined so many wondrous things since I got on that train this morning! Do you have livestock? Part of my imaginings was that you did, and that part of my chores involved helping you with them! What about fruits or vegetables? Do you grow anything? I can’t wait to see what you do with your land! Or at least, I imagine you have land! Are the townsfolk nice? I’ve been imagining what it must be like in Ponyville. I’ve only ever lived in and around Canterlot until now. Either at the orphanage or as more of a servant to families then their adopted child… Do you think I’ll make friends here?” Birdie met Elliot’s eyes, who simply blinked, bewildered by how much the silly filly could talk. The filly knew how to fill a conversation, that was for sure and certain.
“Sorry… Do I talk too much?” she asked, after a moment of silence. Elliot raised his eyebrows. She must have thought his expressions were a bad thing. They weren’t necessarily bad expressions, but he did have concerns. She was so thrilled to finally have a place to call home. But they had wanted a boy. But on the other hoof, they needed the help, and she was ever so sweet.
“Oh, no!” Elliot answered, offering a smile, “In fact, I quite enjoy being purely on the listening end; But I do think you’ll find friends here. We’ve got neighbors who have a filly named Mintie, she’s right around your age,” he added with a wink. That set the filly’s heart ablaze, her eyes widened.
“Oh! You have provided me with even more scope for the imagination! Do you think we will be kindred spirits? Oh I cannot wait to meet her! I bet she is simply marvelous! I wonder what kind of dresses she wears? Do you think she’ll have dresses with puff sleeves? I have always wanted a dress with puff sleeves! Whenever I see one, I imagine myself in it, and I am transformed into the most effervescent, auspicious princess anypony has ever seen! Princess Adelaide of Ponyville, in her finest puff sleeve gown, emerald and gold tiara, and all the finest wisdom she can dispel upon her subjects!” The filly paused for just a moment.
“Oh, Adelaide isn’t my real name, but isn’t it just a gorgeous name?” Birdie met Elliot’s eyes once more.
“I suppose, but I’m sure your real name is just as wonderful,” he said, winking again.
“My real name is Birdie. It is the most unromantic, most tragic name anypony could have! It’s like my birth parents saw just how big my wings were and jokingly said ‘Why, she looks like a birdie’ and went with that! Ugh! I could not despair my name more than I already do!” Birdie crossed her front legs in front of her chest, huffing.
“I think it’s a lovely name,” Elliot said, offering the filly a gentle look. “Mine is far more plain than yours, I think you’ll find. Elliot.” he said in an attempt to make the filly feel better.
“Yours is such a more romantical name! Why, you could be a king with that name! King Elliot of Ponyville! Known for his compassion and bravery towards his subjects! So compassionate even, that he would adopt a skinny little filly, with a terrible name, and ugly red hair that simply clashes with my coat, into his wondrous castle, and she would be his daughter. His little princess…” Birdie’s voice faded out as she watched the sight in front of her develop. Elliot could feel his heart break as she spoke of her dreams in an imaginative sense. The poor filly seemed to have been through so much, and to finally find a permanent home meant the world to her. He would have to try to convince Ethyl. If anypony deserved a permanent place, it was her.
The sight before Bridie was part of the same way Elliot had come to fetch her. The dirt road beneath the carriage was covered in beautiful cherry petals and the road was lined in beautiful cherry trees that were in perfect pink and white bloom, their branches bent as if into a perfect archway.
“What’s… the name of this road?” Birdie asked, her eyes fixated on the beauty before her.
“Oh, well uh, most folks just call this Cherry Road,” he said, looking between her and the trees. Birdie’s face contorted into a half pout, half frustrated look.
“Why that is simply the most unromantic name for a street I have ever heard!” she stood and flapped into the air, Elliot absentmindedly offering a leg for balance. Elliot watched her as she flapped and glided amongst the trees, her white and pink feathers matching the blossoms. She kept her pace with the carriage, admiring the beauty around her.
“I think,” she started, looking down at Elliot. “That this street should be renamed. I hereby dub this street…” she paused, for dramatic effect. “The Pink Way of Delight!” she said joyfully, hovering and clapping her hooves together, her smile bright.
Elliot beamed back up at her. “A fine new name! I will make sure all of Ponyville knows.” he said, watching her fly along the trees some more. It appeared she opted to fly along the trees a little longer.
The carriage made its way off of the Pink Way of Delight, and Birdie descended from the air back to the carriage, landing with grace. A rock in the road caused the carriage to jump excessively, and the pony pulling it said a simple “Sorry!” as he continued on. A rock was inconsequential for the pony pulling, and it simply jostled Elliot. But for Birdie, who had not had a chance to sit back down, it was disastrous. She fell off the seat and onto the floor of the carriage, her back legs still on the seat.
“Ow.” she muttered simply. Elliot suppressed a chuckle and helped the poor filly back to her seat, looking her over for injuries.
“You alright?” he asked, meeting her eyes. She huffed in embarrassment and nodded. To her lucky stars, the rest of the ride to her new home was uneventful.
After much talking, some time in the carriage, and a few greetings to townsfolk, the carriage arrived at Birdie’s new home.
“Welcome to Dandelion Dale, Birdie,” Elliot said, helping her out of the carriage and watching her as she took in every detail. They had both livestock and crops! And the house was just as she had imagined. It was a perfect Victorian farmhouse, and was bigger than nearly any home she’d lived in, aside from the orphanage.
Elliot paid the driver, and the carriage left, leaving them at the gate of the home. Elliot opened the gate, gesturing for Birdie to go in first. She stood at the gate for a moment. This was it. Her first steps into a new, permanently adopted life. Their home was everything she imagined it could be. Tears welled in her eyes as she stepped into her new life. She was speechless as she stepped up to the house.
The front door opened, where her eyes met with Ethyl’s. On Birdie’s face was a look of joy, on Ethyl’s was a strange mix of confusion and shock.
“Elliot, who is this? We sent for a boy!” Ethyl said, perturbed.
“She was the only one left at the station. I couldn’t just leave her there!” Elliot replied, meeting his sister’s eyes. His dark green eyes seemed to be at war with his sister’s gray eyes.
Birdie stared off into the distance, her ears trained on their conversation. They wanted a boy. Not her. Her heart broke into millions of pieces, and she fell to her knees in the dirt. This movement silenced the siblings, who both looked at her and her shaking shoulders, flopped ears, and wings unfolded into the dirt. A heavy, pregnant silence filled the air. Birdie’s next words cut through it like an impeccably made knife.
“You don’t want me…” she sniffled, eyes trained on the ground. She spoke again, this time her voice raised. “If you didn’t want me, you should have left me at the station!” the more she spoke, the louder she spoke, to the point she was shouting. “Why would you take me if you knew you wanted a colt!” she shouted accusingly, raising her head and looking between the two siblings. Tears streaked her cheeks.
Elliot felt his heart break. Ethyl strode over and held out a hoof to Birdie in an effort to help her up. Just like the train station, she flinched, clenching her eyes shut, turning her head away and pinning her ears against her head, causing more tears to mat the fur on her cheeks.
“Now now, I’m not going to hurt you,” Ethyl said simply. “You can stay here tonight and we will go right on over to Mrs. Edwards’ home tomorrow and sort this out.” she said, keeping her hoof held out. Birdie shakingly opened her eyes and turned her head back, her eyes darting between Ethyl’s and the hoof she had extended. “What’s your name, filly?” she asked, moving her hoof so that the filly would take it.
“... Please… call me Adelaide…” Birdie answered quietly, more tears falling from her eyes.
“Call you?” Ethyl retracted her hoof. “Why would you ever lie about your name?” she questioned, watching as Birdie’s eyes met the ground once more.
“Because! My real name is tragic and unromantic!” Birdie replied, meeting Ethyl’s eyes in a most dramatic fashion.
“Whatever is your name, filly? Don’t lie.” Ethyl said sternly.
“Birdie…” Birdie muttered in reply.
“And what a practical name it is. You’re a vain one, and no mistake. Now, get up from the dirt and I’ll show you to your room for the night. After that, you’re to wash up for supper.” Ethyl spoke sternly once more.
Elliot paced over and slowly offered out a hoof to Birdie, who took it and stood, following Ethyl inside. Birdie’s ears remained flopped against her head, her eyes trained on no particular space. Ethyl led her upstairs to a room, where she set her belongings down in silence.
“Wash up, supper is in 15 minutes,” Ethyl said, shutting the door behind her. Birdie sniffled as she washed up, flopping onto a bed she would not get to call her own. She tilted her chin back further to peer through a window she would not get to call her own.
But what if she could?
She was good at many things, like hanging laundry, fetching eggs, and so on. Birdie sat up. That was it! She’d make a plea deal. …Not that she completely knew what that meant. She did miss a fair bit of school, being from home to home. But she’d still try to cut some kind of deal, and she would plead for it at supper!
“Don’t give me that look, Elliot.” Ethyl says, frowning at her brother.
His face simply adjusted in reply, making an expression that suggested he sarcastically had no idea what she could possibly be talking about.
“Don’t tell me you wish to keep her!” Ethyl spoke, emphasizing the word ‘keep’.
Elliot cracked a smile at the thought. Ethyl huffed out a sigh and returned to finishing her supper preparations.
“We cannot, and you know that. This whole idea was folly. I suppose we should just hire somepony.” Ethyl said, finishing up setting the table.
Elliot’s smile faded. He knew they needed help, and he also knew that she wanted a forever home. The thought of letting her go tugged at his heartstrings. She had grown on him. She was sweet, kind, and he could tell she deserved a home such as their own. There had to be something he could do.
Birdie strode down the stairs into the dining room with a hint of pride in her step. The table was set and she sat at the table, across from Ethyl. A silence hung in the air save for the clattering of utensils on the porcelain plates. Birdie decided it was time to set her plan, or rather her plea, in motion.
“I am wonderful at fetching eggs, I can help with laundry, any chores really, and can be a great help. Please, keep me.” she said quickly, her eyes darting between the siblings. Silence sat between them all once more. Elliot made an expression at Ethyl, beckoning her to speak.
Ethyl sighed and put her fork down. “Tomorrow we are going to Mrs. Edwards’ to figure this out, and that is final.”
Any confidence Birdie had left her body. Her ears flopped against her head, and suddenly, she wasn’t hungry. Her shoulders slumped and she put her fork down, looking down at her food dejectedly. Birdie stared down at her daisy and oat sandwich, her lips pulled into a disappointed, thin line.
Supper was wrapped up, Birdie put the dishes in the sink, and silently went upstairs where she changed out of her too-tight dress, and climbed into a bed she would not be calling her own. She gazed out her window, her eyes taking in the details of the fabled “Mare in the Moon”.
“Mare in the moon… Please…watch over me… and keep watch of my dreams…” Birdie spoke quietly, tears wetting her cheeks. Small, quiet sobs racked her body, and she fell asleep in sorrow.