My Sweet Eleanor

by TheDorkside99

Uncouth Concealed, A Truth Revealed

Gray skies covered Canterlot in a silent fog that chilled to the bone. The streets were empty and puddles covered cobblestone squares in large portions, a pair of rare sights for Canterlot’s normally warm and pleasant summer nights. Only minutes from her home, Eleanor walked along Canterlot’s high end district into a residential area that briefly cut into downtown’s array of bright entertainment. With a parasol in hand, she looked into her hoof at the only thing her investigations from the nights before revealed: an address.

She picked up her head and spotted the house from across the flooded street. She tried her best to skip over the puddles, but only managed to moisten her dress up to the knees.

“Hmph! Dumb rain!”

When she made it across the street, she slowly walked through the unlocked gate and passed an array of carefully manicured bushes and trees. On the porch, Eleanor unfolded her parasol and pushed the golden doorbell which faintly played the first eight measures of Fur Elise.

“I hope I wrote the address down right. How embarrassing it would be to..”

Eleanor’s thoughts were interrupted by an elegantly dressed gentlecolt holding the door halfway open.

“Um, may I help you, Madame?”

Eleanor stumbled to speak. “Y-Yes. Uh, you wouldn’t happen to be Frederic Horseshoepin, would you?”

“Why yes, yes I am,” he replied. Frederic scaled Eleanor with his eyes and huffed. “Look, if you want an autograph or something, I’m afraid I am much too busy at the moment, so I will have to ask you to leave.”

“No no no, it is not an autograph I am seeking from you.” Eleanor paused a moment to recollect her thoughts. “Mr. Horseshoepin…”

“Please, call me Frederic.”

“Very well, Frederic. I’m here because I know you and Octavia used to be lovers.”

Frederic cocked his head. “And perhaps you could introduce yourself before I call the police.”

“Oh yes, where are my manners. I am Eleanor. Strings’s little sister?”

“And Octavia’s current go around, am I correct?” asked Frederic with a smirk.

“I have a few questions to ask you about Octavia, if that’s okay with you,” she replied ignoring the remark.

Frederic scratched his chin and sighed. “Look, Miss Eleanor. What Octavia and I had happened long ago. We were in love, and then we broke up. Simple as that. A common practice among two consenting adult ponies. Now if you’ll excuse I have more important matters than to satisfy the curiosity of a young lass.”

Frederic was in the middle of shutting his door when Eleanor placed a hoof in the way on the door frame.

“Tell me about this photograph, Frederic.” Eleanor held up the photograph in question to Frederic’s face. His eyes grew very wide and his jaw dropped nearly to the floor. When he regained his composure, he opened his door all the way and motioned Eleanor with his hoof.

“Please come in from the rain, Miss Eleanor. We have much to talk about.”

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“There you are, Octavia. Good as new!”

Treble, the plump and peppy owner of the music shop hoofed Octavia her newly repaired cello featuring new strings and a finished head. The sun that poured in through the window reflected off the majestic body of the waxed instrument. Octavia grabbed her bow and played a quick tune and smiled at the conclusion.

“Treble! If I weren’t here for the entire duration of the process, I would say you swapped my cello with a newer one.”

Treble gave a hearty chuckle. “Well, I try my best. Especially for somepony of your caliber.”

“Oh nonsense, my good friend. I am no more than a simple soul with love for music.” Octavia pulled out a wallet and thumbed through its contents. “So, how much for the repair, old man.”

“It’s on the house.”

“B-B-B-B…”

“Nope,” Treble yelped in a high scratchy voice. “I will not take money from a soul who blesses my ears with the sweet sound of music as you have. Besides, I still owe you for my lousy finals performance from music school.” Treble gave Octavia a playful wink.

“Then we are even.”

Octavia admired her cello when something caught her eye. The little filly from the train stood outside the store with her face pressed against the window. Her beady eyes gazed at an elegant violin stained with a fiery red-orange finish and a sharp looking bow to boot. From inside, Octavia motioned the filly to come in to look at the violin together.

“Amazing, is it not?”

“My mommy had one like that. She did. I saw.”

Octavia chuckled. “Really, a Saddlevarius? The most exquisite and expensive violin you can buy? She must’ve been quite the player.”

The little filly nodded and continued to admire the instrument. Octavia knelt next to the little filly and placed a hoof on her shoulder.

“You know, little one. You really should be at the orphanage. Somepony there must be going insane looking for you right now.”

“But I don’t have to go,” she responded as-a-matter-of-factly.

Octavia chuckled. “Don’t be silly, little filly.” She stood to her hooves and grabbed her hoof. “Come on. I want to make sure you make it to the orphanage in one piece.”

The little filly did not move from her spot and pouted at Octavia’s direction. The cellist pulled the little filly until she was dragging her along the carpet.

“Little filly, don’t make this any harder than it should be.”

“But I don’t wanna go!” she cried.

Other customers of Treble’s Music Shoppe turned to face the spectacle of a professional cellist dragging a street filly by the hoof. Octavia grinned nervously then gave the filly a hard stare.

“Little filly, you are going to comply with the governmental regulations of abandoned children to exist under the care of state appointed orphanages or, so Celestia help me, somepony should find me here with a crying babe!”

The little filly pouted. “I’m not a baby. No. I’m a big girl.”

“Then prove yourself and come with me to the local orphanage!”

The little filly stared at her hooves and sighed. “I can’t.”

Octavia thought for a moment then knelt once again to the filly’s level. “What do you mean?”

The little filly pulled a piece of folded paper out and hoofed it to Octavia. She opened it up and began reading its contents.

“This official note certifies that the holder is entitled to the social terms listed below.”

Octavia mumbled the words she read to herself when suddenly, tears began to form in her eyes. She put the paper down and gazed at the little pony in front of her. She placed a hoof on her flank when she spotted the peculiar cutie mark that only meant one thing.

“My word. You…You’re a…”

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“A wanderer?” said Eleanor.

She gripped the picture she found in Octavia’s drawer tightly in her hoof, staring at the little filly that sat in between her lover and Frederic grinning with cake crumbs on her face. She looked up at Frederic who sat on a large red chair next to the crackling fireplace. He bent near a candle to light it with a match.

“We found her one day while at market,” he said. He placed the used match on a small table and positioned himself back into the chair.

“Poor thing. She was a unicorn whose mother drank terribly and father hit heavily. As a result, she lost her ability to use magic at birth. Not wanting anything to do with her, they sent her to the orphanage where she spent the next ten years. Of course, a magicless unicorn that doesn’t have the strength of an earth pony or the flight ability of a pegasus was overlooked for those years. And so, after ten years as with every orphan, she was marked on her flank and given the boot.”

Eleanor glanced uneasily at the fireplace. “So, how did she end up with you two?”

“She didn’t,” replied Frederic. “Octavia brought her along after she met her after a solo concert. Something about the filly’s natural inhibitions towards music that captured her attention. Anyway, we spent a whole day absolutely spoiling this useless creature. At the end of the day Octavia said she wanted us to adopt her.”

Frederic stood to his hooves and made his way to a personal bar. He prepared a drink for himself then set his back against the counter.

“This was the object of our separation,” he said taking a sip. “Since then she’s always hated me. Made fun of everything I did. The nerve.”

“Well, it does sound like you didn’t treat the little filly very well,” said Eleanor. “What happened to her?”

“She’s dead.”

Eleanor gasped. “How could you refuse to adopt such an unfortunate child?”

“Because it was more than just love Octavia had for the filly. It was obsession. Sick, twisted obsession.”

“What do you mean?” asked Eleanor.

Frederic placed his drink on the counter and began walking around his guest examining her dress.

“How many dresses do you own, Miss Eleanor?”

“I don’t know. Hundreds, perhaps. A modest number, really.”

“Of course,” he replied. He bent down to Eleanor’s knees and hoofed the bracelets around her ankles. “And these. She purchases jewelry by the box for you, I presume.”

“I do not understand where you are getting at, Frederic,” she said squirming in her seat. “In fact, you are scaring me a bit.”

“She buys you flowers,” he said running a hoof over Eleanor’s back leg.

“Frederic?”

“She buys you candy.” He continued feeling up her back leg until he reached her flank.

“Stop it, please!”

“And speaks beautiful words of poetry in your ears!” Frederic ripped Eleanor’s dress off and gasped as the peculiar cutie mark that decorated the flank of the poor filly from long ago reappeared.

“I knew it.”

Eleanor quickly jumped and slapped Frederic across the face. “No, you don’t understand. Octavia and I have something special together. She loves me for who I am. Unlike you, you pervert!”

Eleanor stormed out of the room and bolted out the front door. She kept running ignoring the blots of water that smacked her face as she ran through the streets back to the apartment she shared with Octavia. When she finally reached the front doorstep of the complex, she let her flank fall on the steps and she began to weep softly.

Comments

[Fillyfooler]

Wow awesome chapter, I wonder what the perversion is. Wish to sees moar, write moar please!