It was shortly before dawn when the train from Portside slowly rolled into Hoofington Station, the seemingly sedate pace belying the uncertainty on board.
It was not Rarity Unicorn of Ponyville whom was chiefly suffering from uncertainty, although notes of it did tug on her senses; she personally, after all, had very little to be uncertain about. Neither was any one part of the cohort of 30 ponies of the Royal Guard aboard the train with her that were chiefly suffering from uncertainty; they would disembark at the Hoofington platform, likely for a day’s leave, and then would be off to Canterlot to be sent somewhere else. This left, naturally, the single earth pony pacing up and down the aisle between benches to chiefly suffer from uncertainty; his future had surely been written, but was covered by so much chalk dust that it was impossible to see.
Rarity took a moment — turning her attention from her sketchpad, still the focus of a vicious assault of designs and fancies — to regard this pony. He was familiar to her by this point, from his dark brown coat and light blonde mane with a tinging of orange — like cherry and sandalwood left in the sun respectively — to his viridian eyes and mark of a tree branch riding a gentle wave. Because he was familiar to her, and because she knew he was uncertain, and because she knew exactly why, she frowned slightly as she watched him.
“You’re hiding from me again,” she finally said to the pony pacing in the aisle, in truth a changeling in disguise.
The changeling, Driftwood of Portside, stopped pacing and shifted his hooves. “I’m not,” he said. “I’m not trying to, at least. It’s just that there’s nothing to be done for any of this. It’s better if I don’t worry.”
“You certainly don’t look like you aren’t worried. You’ll wear a row into the floor if you keep pacing like that,” Rarity replied. She shifted towards the windows, freeing more of the bench she was seated on, and tapped the space next to her with her hoof. Driftwood stared at it for a few moments, but finally took a seat and heaved a heavy sigh.
“Changelings have to be adaptable to survive. I’ve been living in Portside for so long, I think I’ve forgotten how,” said Driftwood, eyes cast towards the floor.
“Somehow, I just can’t envision it,” Rarity remarked, laying a hoof atop Driftwood’s shoulder. “A changeling who can’t change! The very thought.”
When Rarity giggled, Driftwood gave her a cross look, although it did not wipe away her smile. “Oh, don’t dwell on it, dearheart. You’re both bright and quick-witted. Soon enough you’ll remember how to adapt to new experiences and wonder why you were ever concerned in the first place,” she said.
Driftwood, at the least, smiled at that, however unsure a smile it was. A moment later, his smile turned to a confused frown as he leaned back in his seat and looked at the window, and finally his eyes widened and his ears stood straight up.
Rarity did not miss any of this, and rapidly turned to look out the window herself, a similar expression finding its way to her own face. “Oh, Twilight, tell me you didn’t,” she whined as the platform slowly rolled by. Standing on it was, perhaps unsurprisingly, Princess Twilight Sparkle, along with another half a cohort of Guards, and the remaining four Bearers of the Elements of Harmony in varying states of agitation, framed by the multitude of modern gas lamps that lit the platform, making the entire scene look like an especially hazy day.
Fluttershy was watching the train with a mostly neutral expression; if she was trembling even slightly, it was impossible to tell at a distance.
Pinkie Pie looked as she ever did, smiling widely and bouncing up and down in place.
Applejack’s expression was not neutral, but then was not a smile or a frown either; Rarity found she could not quite place the emotion she saw.
Rainbow Dash was actually standing on the ground, but the twitching in her wings and tail could not go unnoticed. Neither could the frown on her face.
Twilight, however, was the true enigma, and Rarity could not help but note that she had perhaps learned from Princess Celestia a bit too well. She stood still, without so much as a twitch in either wings or tail; her expression was calmly neutral, and unlike Applejack’s did not betray any emotion; and like Fluttershy, she watched the train passively as it slowed even further. For a moment, her and Rarity’s eyes met, and even in that moment, Rarity could not determine at all what may have been going through her friend’s mind. The Guards seemed to be taking their cues from Twilight, and were mimicking her in a grand show of consummate professionalism.
Pinkie Pie stopped bouncing for a moment and waved at Rarity, who grinned nervously and waved back.
“I’m going to die,” Driftwood said pathetically.
“Enough of that,” Rarity said with sudden firmness. She turned around to face him, face neutral and steely. “Nothing is going to happen to you so long as I’m here. That is my solemn promise to you.” Driftwood looked at her for a moment, eyes wide, and then turned his gaze downward, looking suitably scolded.
Rarity’s expression softened immediately, and she placed a gentle kiss on Driftwood’s forehead. “Everything will be fine,” she said. “I don’t think it’s going to be easy, but everything will be fine. I promise.”
“As long as you’re here, I can make it,” Driftwood replied, looking up at her with a smile.
The train lurched ever slightly as it came to a full stop, and immediately the Guards on board sprung up and began to unload the luggage that had come with them. With a shuddering breath, Driftwood stood up from the bench, and with Rarity at his side, walked towards the exit to meet his destiny.