The Fleur of her efforts

by Starblazer225

Rating: teen
Tags: Fancypants, Fleur de Lis, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Sad
Length: 1416

It had been years since he'd done anything to break my heart, that I knew of-of course. I feel though, as if he's hiding something.

This idea came to me after reading Last Cask of Amontillado by Edgar Allen Poe. (Neither of them are related, just the revenge story got the gears spinning)

It had been years since he'd done anything to break my heart, that I knew of-of course. I feel though, as if he's hiding something. He's been gone for almost a week now, and I guess I must make due to entertain myself or find something to do. Maybe I could find something with some interest to me. After all, what could he be hiding from me?

Published 2013-07-05 05:30:01 UTC
Last updated 2013-07-05 05:30:01 UTC

The Hidden

I stared out into the open field of gold and green. The blades swaying gently as a cool breeze cut through it then vanished before another scythe of wind passed through. From the balcony's perch high set on our home I watch those glistening fields. I remember so long ago watching them sway ever so softly, as they had now. I remember that though, that day he screwed up once. I forgave him though, for whatever reason I can't think of besides the fact that I am his wife and I love him. I should have walked out on him that second, but where would I go? I could try to start on my own, but, how is the better question. He gave me everything and I was supposed to walk away from that? He gave me care, attention, happiness, love. I couldn't walk away from that, you can't walk away from what you need.

He had been gone for around five days, six nights and yes I have grown suspicious of why he's gone. I do feel at times he, himself in all of his own honesty still will pull through an untruth from his lips through those eyes I put too much trust in. I feel as if at times I have found myself on a lead and to my heart I feel like he is being dishonest but I am yet to find any real proof that he is.

For those few days I haven't left the house, I sent the servants home, I locked the entry, I made every precaution to make sure I was to remain undisturbed. I was in my own fortress of peace and quiet. I was by myself. I hate being alone, I feel so good though, being here, all alone. I simply had not a single care in the world.

From time to time though my own curiosity will peak itself and present its own opportunity to make me want to investigate. Yes, I do live in this house but every so often I do feel the need to look around, see if there's anything that I might find interesting. I do find nice things once in awhile. Bits that Fancy didn't spend that I've put away for myself for a rainy day, some old coat or sweater from many seasons ago I might be able to give to one of my closer friends, Rarity, or there's that one time I did find something fairly unique that I'm not even sure either of us knew about.

A large hand mirror, studded with blood red gems resting around a silver reflection. Fancy claimed them to be rubies but I still do not think so. There was text on the back that I didn't care for, something about how it "shows what is supposed to be seen". I just used it to see that angle my mirror can't see. I now feel that exploring feeling once again to venture into the depths of the house to uncover whatever I may find that I find interesting.

As things go I might find myself in another room rummaging through trinkets and such trying my hardest to find something I had not seen before.

I began to move out of my room. Going down the hall to a closet by the washroom around the corner from the trophy room Fancy and I have decided to make considering we now need separate rooms to store such spoils that we've acquired from many trials we have both overcome. I think I've found everything in that room that I needed to find so I best put that place in the back of my mind.

I focused my magic on the doorknob to the closet and with a quick click and a whoosh it opened showing stacks and stacks of boxes. Many of which were sealed and bound together. Many of which I knew exactly what was in there but others I was not so sure about. One by one I pulled them down. One was marked "Toys" I knew what was in that box, oh, I definitely knew what was in that box. Another crate that looked like it was shipped and never opened and to my astonishment it was a sculpture of me made of solid rock, I'm guessing Fancy bought a long time ago judging by the thick blankets of dust covering the outside of the box and forgot to give it to me. To my own displeasure I found nothing of interest, I took the statue out of the box and left it beside the door then proceeded to another part of the house I might find something odd and interesting.

Lining the hall I trotted aimlessly wandering my eye around ever nook and cranny. Full suits of old Canterlonian armor stood guard and held their strict posture, long poleaxes carefully balanced against steel suits. Shells of the mighty and brave, they held their position, like frozen protectors. Every time I walked down this hall I felt like a queen, the guards lining the streets as I walked down them casting my royal gaze down to the commoners below me. Despite how greedy and pompous it sounded I enjoyed the thought but it was nothing for me to even truly care about pondering over. Just the whole idea made me smile for a short moment.

The reflective marble floors echoed the same grey light casted down by darkened overcast skies from the skylights above the massive chamber topped from floor to ceiling with books. Among them there I stared at the tomes and runes on the shelves. Many a quaint and curious volumes of forgotten lore. I managed to pull a book of the shelf that for some reason aroused my deepest interest and began to read.

The information was bland and within the first few words I had already lost interest and had put it back in its resting place where it had sat before. High above my head a purple colored spine slightly stick its neck out farther than any other book. As if it was just asking to be taken down to be read. As I did something fell from it an immediately my mind sprang to the possibilities. My mind flashed at the wonderment that I fantasized it could be. Again, to my dismay it was simply a small notecard that read it was from a library somewhere in downtown Canterlot. There was something interesting about it, just the fact it was over fourteen years overdue. Interesting since its an old book, simply glancing at the tattered cover brought me back to my school days. I wish not though to get my mind caught up in the old wind of memories and nostalgia of times past. I have yet to understand why we must dwell on those times.

Even though I still have found nothing interesting and my patience so far has been exhausted to where I feel like I must look through another room i still felt a tether, if I may, as if this room filled with books held something I had never seen before. Something dark, something mysterious, not off the top of my head that I could put a hoof on but the feeling haunted me. Now, I must keep digging.

My first thought as to how I should approach this, my method was to pull each book out one at a time and search. I broke at the idea and merely trotted around. The many volumes of such things interested me. Cook books that were covered in dust to a whole wall entitled "Fancy's" looking through there were about forty or so books that I skimmed over. Many of which were about clothing and how dresses are supposed to adequately fit the wearer. On book though seemed to focus on the bottom half of the mare body and how certain articles of clothing fit around certain things. The book had a rather odd smell to it so I didn't even think of touching it.

Finally on the back wall a large bookshelf caught my attention, the shelves lined with red and burgundy colored books and encyclopedias. All were of a bright red or a darker maroon color. Except one, one dark dark blue book. The outlier resting in the middle of the stockpile of books perfectly lined pulled my attention to a final height that could not go any higher.