My Sweet Eleanor

by TheDorkside99


A Stallion Fond, A Common Bond

“Wanderer,” Eleanor whispered.

Eleanor could not take her eyes off the photograph she discovered in Octavia’s drawer from the day before. She gripped it tightly within her shaking hooves bending the image straight down the middle. The sight of her lover’s past self enjoying the company of a wanderer allowed feelings of doubt to creep into her heart.

“Do you really love me, Tavi? Or is there something you’re hiding from me?”

Speckles of rain began to decorate the old photograph as the gray sky recoiled into a light drizzle. A light wind magnified the bite of the cold that nipped Eleanor’s softened fur, driving her to a mad search for her key to the apartment. She reached into her purse, a present for her birthday last year, and rummaged through every sliver of space she could find. After searching for a few minutes browsing through her mare’s necessities, she let out an exasperated sigh that danced in the cool air in white steam.

“Excuse me, Miss.”

Eleanor looked up to find a young stallion standing with a broom in his hoof.

“I-I’m sorry, but I couldn’t help notice you dropped these down the street awhile back.”

The young stallion reached into the pocket of his long cloak and held out his hoof with Eleanor’s keys, dangling lightly in the brisk wind. Eleanor reached out and grabbed her keys, pausing a moment to collect her thoughts about this strange new stallion with a hint of a Latin accent in his voice.

“Oh, thank you good sir. You have nothing to be sorry for. In fact, I should be thanking you dearly, especially on a night like this where it would have taken me hours to find these.”

Eleanor turned quickly and fumbled to find the right key among the many that hung in her hoof. As she identified the correct one, she inserted the key into the gate and twisted, but the key became stuck refusing to turn a single centimeter.

“Oh my! How embarrassing.”

Eleanor put all her strength into her wrist as she twisted and turned, but the brute resistance of the key kept it still, and coupled with the freezing cold only served to give her hoof a bruising pain. Eleanor was about to give up when suddenly, a warm sensation covered her neck and hoof that sent a chill down her spine.

“Allow me to help you, Miss.”

Eleanor, entranced by the gentle voice from behind, obeyed and moved out of the way to allow the young stallion to work on the stubborn key. He grabbed the knob firmly and pulled it out until it clicked. Then, turning the key with ease, the door opened gently causing cool air to brush across Eleanor’s shivering body. Eleanor darted her eyes from left to right and smiled weakly.

“Thank you, kind sir. I keep forgetting that little trick to open this blasted door!”

“It was no trouble at all, Miss,” the young stallion replied. “And please, call me Forte.”

Eleanor and Forte smiled at each other for a moment then quickly looked away from each other’s gazes in a rush of embarrassment. A few moments of silence passed as the two ponies, their gazes diverted in opposite directions, struggled with what to say next.

“Well, thank you Forte,” Eleanor said, finally breaking the awkward silence.

Eleanor walked through the gate and started to make her way to the stairs that led to her apartment, but paused before she took another step. An idea that entered Eleanor’s mind caused her to smile as if a light bulb clicked just above her in the dark, dank night. She turned around and was relieved to see Forte still standing there with his broom clutched tightly in both hooves.

“Forte, you look so cold. Why don’t you come inside for some hot tea?”

Forte shrugged his shoulders at the idea. “Oh, I couldn’t, Miss. I mean I still have a lot of work to do and I’d just feel like I was taking advantage of you or something.”

“Nonsense!” she exclaimed in a dramatic fashion. “I just want to thank you for letting me in. Please come inside from the bitter cold, I insist!”

“That’s really kind of you to offer, Miss, but I should get back to work. Besides, I always open that old rickety gate for lost children and such. It’s nothing really.”

“I am not a lost child, Forte!”

Eleanor’s strong answer came at such an unexpected manner that both ponies jerked back in shock at its alarming volume. Another moment of silence passed through the courtyard, this time marred with confusion and built-up tension. Forte, not wanting to disturb the beautiful mare standing in front of him bothered and hurt, turned around and began to make his way to the wet streets of Canterlot with his head hanging low.

“Forte,” Eleanor called out.

The young stallion sighed and turned to face his caller.

“I-I’m terribly sorry for yelling at you. Truly, I am. Please, I do not wish to see you out in the freezing rain. Come inside, even if just for a few minutes. Until the rain stops. Then you can continue to sweep, or whatever it is that you do with that broom.”

Forte couldn’t help but smile at the pony’s sincere generosity. The street sweeper rested his broom against a dimly lit wall, much to the relief of Eleanor.

“Very well, I accept your kind offer. Thank you, Miss.”

“Please,” she replied with a soft voice. “Call me Eleanor.”


“So, I take it you’re not from around here, right Forte?” asked Eleanor.

Eleanor hoofed a mug of hot lemon and mint tea to her guest then took her seat adjacent to his on the kitchen table. Forte lifted the mug and breathed in the soothing aroma through his frozen nostrils and smiled.

“That is right, Eleanor. Where I am from, there is no strange cold weather during the summer months.” Forte brought the mug down to his lips and took a rapid sip of his tea, a satisfied sigh blowing out of his nose.

“And there is not very good tea like there is here, either.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Eleanor replied.

She took a peek out of the kitchen window and was relieved at the constant patter of rain that forced her invited guest to stay indoors. She watched as the broom Forte left outside against the wall darkened in color by the water that moistened its entire body. After losing herself in a trance, she was brought back to reality by Forte’s gentle voice.

“W-What? I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Oh,” he replied. “I just wanted to know if I could help myself to these crackers on the table.”

“Of course, that’s what I put them there for,” she said with a smile.

Forte grabbed a hoofful of the lightly buttered crackers and politely munched on one while taking sips of his tea. Eleanor smiled as she saw him eat; a question entered her mind.

“So, how was it that you came to Canterlot, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Forte nodded in approval of Eleanor’s question and began. “My father was a ship merchant, and every month he would sail across the ocean and deliver all kinds of goods to different countries. Sometimes I would go with him, when there was not school of course.”

“I can just imagine how worried sick your mother would get with you and your father being gone so long at sea,” said Eleanor.

“Actually, I never met my mother. She died giving birth to me.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” said Eleanor placing a hoof over her chest.

“This is okay,” Forte replied. He took a sip from his mug and continued his story for the ever attentive pony sitting at the table. “Anyways, one day my father got a call to ship twenty tons of rice to Canterlot. This was one of those trips where he would take me with him. When we arrived, His men unloaded the cargo and he met with the stallion that ordered his services. He noticed something strange about him, like a bad curse he felt as they talked or something.”

Forte paused to take a bite from the cracker in his hoof

“And then, there was a loud bang. My father and the stallion turned to see that I had accidentally opened one of the crates and lots of rice spilled onto the floor of the dock. But what was more surprising was that within the rice were illegal firearms.”

Eleanor gasped. “You mean, your father was part of an illegal business trade?”

“And without even knowing,” Forte exclaimed. He paused and glanced apologetically at Eleanor, who closed her eyes as to forgive him for his outburst.

“So what happened next, Forte?”

“Well, it was at that moment the security at the docking station took notice and called in the royal guards for assistance. It was everypony for themselves as stallions left and right ran away. Some got caught, including the stallion who made the order. As they were pulling him away, he gave an order for his men to grab a firearm and shoot at whoever tried to flee.”

Forte put his mug on the table and pressed his lips together tightly, struggling to finish the rest of his story. The rain outside grew into a fierce downpour and a flash of lightning cast a quick shadow on the table, which was soon followed by booming thunder.

“Forgive me, Eleanor,” Forte said.

“No, there is no need. Please, feel free to take all the time you need.”

After a brief moment, Forte breathed a deep sigh and continued. “I ran towards the door as fast as I could and my father ran behind me. I tripped and landed right at the entrance where one of the stallion’s men stood pointing a gun at my face. Before he could shoot, my father bucked him in the chest so hard, it sent him out into the ocean. Just as we thought it was safe to walk out, my father grabbed me by the waist and turned his back to the opening.”

A single tear ran down Forte’s cheek and died on his lip.

“The last thing I remember hearing were blasts coming from outside.”

As the last words of his tragic tale escaped his lips, Eleanor could not help but throw her hooves around him and share in his weeping. She clutched him tightly to her chest, the warmth of her body uniting with his cold exterior creating an exchange of mutual heat that comforted one and burdened the other. Eleanor, after a few minutes of their embrace, broke free of Forte and wiped her eyes.

“So, you were wanderer, too? Like me?”

“Yes, Eleanor,” he replied, dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief graciously given to him by his empathetic hostess. “I spent the next twenty years with no place to go, and nopony to talk to. I knew not the language and had to spend nights out on the streets. A stallion I met when I was thirteen took pity on me and let me stay in his basement so long as I swept his yards for him and his friends in the high end district. I’ve been doing this every day since.”

For a few moments, the two wandering ponies sat in their chairs reliving their lives as the outcasts they once were. The ticking of the grandfather clock sounded through the entire apartment until it climaxed into a melodious chorus, signaling the eleventh hour. Forte quickly rose to his hooves and grabbed his cloak from his chair’s backrest.

“It is getting late, and I believe the rain has stopped. Thank you for the tea, Miss Eleanor.”

As Forte turned to leave, he felt his leg being grabbed and thrust to the side, causing him to turn completely around to face a mare in distress.

“Forte, you cannot leave. Not after what you’ve told me.”

“I am sorry if what I said upset you. It was not my intention. I think it would be best for me to leave.”

“I will not hear of it!” Eleanor grabbed the young stallion with both hooves and pulled him closer to her petite frame. Forte squirmed in his stance, uncomfortable with the position he had been placed by the mare.

“Eleanor…”

“Spend the night Forte. With me. Please.”

“But Eleanor, is this not inappropriate. We just met.”

“Perhaps we have just met in pony,” she cried. “But in spirit, we hold the common bond of loneliness and despair that comes with being a wanderer. Forte, spend the night with me, that we may not wander alone anymore.”

The young stallion peered into the mare’s eyes and softened at her pleading expression, relaxing his stiff posture. He continued his visual intake of the beautiful mare as his eyes carried him down from her precious face to her elegant neck, her youthful chest, and finally her delicate body. As if reading his thoughts, Eleanor grasped one of his hooves and placed it over her flank.

“Lift the hem of my dress, Forte. And see the mark which you and I bear in unison.”

Forte obeyed the satin voice of his hostess and began to raise the exquisite dress until his eyes stared into the peculiar mark that he bore on his own flank. The sight shocked his mind and aroused his temptations to search deeper within. Before he made his next move, Forte looked up at Eleanor whose warm sigh beckoned him to pursue his innermost desires and curiosities. As he continued to run his hoof deeper within her dress, their eyes locked, then their lips. Soon their bodies intertwined on the bed in an expression of love they shared as two wanderers who no longer wandered alone.