Rarity gave her parents and her sister one last hug as they saw her off at the train station. She promised them she would visit them again soon, and then promised herself that she wouldn’t make such empty promises in the future.
Celestia actually took more time saying goodbye to Rarity’s family than Rarity herself did, and by the time she was finished Rarity had already settled into their private cabin and was staring into space out the window.
“Not a fan of long goodbyes, I take it?” Celestia asked as she sat across from Rarity.
“No,” Rarity muttered, “just don’t have much to say, I suppose.”
Rarity was still tired from last night, still tired from the day before, from the week before, from—well, it goes on. She was tired, is the point. And spending an hour as her family gushes on her while the train driver glares at her and the Queen to get on because they can’t leave without them, it wasn’t Rarity’s idea of a pleasant way to spend her morning.
Besides which, Rarity just needed some time to think.
Celestia handed Rarity a coffee, and only after she took it did Rarity realize Celestia had left the car and come back without Rarity even noticing. She took a sip and sighed in frustration, even the delightful aroma and taste of vanilla and hazelnut didn’t do much to soothe Rarity’s aching nerves.
“What’s on your mind, Rarity?”
“I swear you’ve asked me that at least six times during this trip,” Rarity griped. “And I thank you for your concern, I just wish I didn’t have so much on my mind these days.”
“I know how you feel,” Celestia sighed, taking a sip of her own coffee, which was black either because she hated herself or because she was Queen of Equestria and didn’t feel pain. At least, those were the only reasons Rarity could think that someone would enjoy black coffee.
“I just-” Rarity groaned “-I wish it were simple again. When I first became a Slayer, everything seemed so black and white. You slayed monsters, protected ponies, people showered you with praise and everything seemed so… clear.”
“I often find myself yearning for days gone by,” Celestia hummed, “but you have to remember that the simplicity you crave is only attached to those days in hindsight. Back then, everything felt so complicated and overwhelming, and it’s only now—now that you’ve completed those tasks and you understand those days in a greater context—that they seem to be so simple.”
“You’re not wrong,” Rarity grumbled, “I suppose.” She took another sip of her coffee and tried to relax, but it was like a needle of bone was piercing into her brain. “Does it ever get easier? Does it ever become simple, or— or manageable?”
“No,” the Queen said sternly, before taking another sip of her coffee.
“Well,” Rarity said flatly, “that’s a shame.”
“Life is complicated, Rarity,” Celestia said, her tone still carrying a noticeable hint of that sternness from before, but with a softer edge to it. “It has its good days, and bad ones, but it will never be ‘simple’ or ‘easy’.”
“I just want to be happy,” Rarity sighed, and if she hadn't been sitting in front of her Queen, she may well have just burst into tears right then and there.
“So say we all,” Celestia hummed as she placed her coffee cup to her lips before electing not to take a sip after all.
“I’m going to figure it out, you know,” Rarity said confidently, glancing at Celestia from the corner of her eye.
“Excuse me?” Celestia cocked her head and smiled. “What are you going to figure out?”
“How to make everyone happy,” Rarity said, staring Celestia down. “There must be some better way to protect Equestria that doesn’t drain the life and joy out of its protectors! There has to be! And I’m going to find it!”
Celestia was silent, and she wasn’t smiling.
Rarity blinked, and swallowed some anxiety at this unexpected reaction.
Celestia took a sip of her coffee, her eyes never breaking contact with Rarity’s.
“Um, Celestia?” Rarity asked nervously. “Is everything alright?” Rarity let out a nervous laugh. “Should I ask what’s on your mind?”
“Interesting,” Celestia said flatly. “It’s interesting to me, that you think you can just up and solve a problem that I haven’t been able to figure out in a thousand years.”
“I didn’t mean to imply—”
“No, Rarity,” Celestia scoffed, and everything around Rarity seemed to slow down because she had never seen Celestia become genuinely angry before now, “please. Tell me— ME— how you’re going to just fix everything! Please enlighten me to what crucial element I’m missing, that I haven’t seen in a thousand years, that will make everyone be able to be happy! Because goodness, I’m sure I must have missed something!
“Or perhaps,” Celestia stood up, throwing her half-full coffee cup to the ground, “you just think I haven’t been trying! Maybe you think I’ve been resting on my laurels this last millennium, that the Queen of Equestria doesn’t really care, that she thinks everything’s just FINE the way it is! Is THAT it?!”
Rarity’s entire body was curled up into a cowering ball on her seat, and no matter how desperately she wanted to respond or apologize, nothing could pass her lips but a mere whimper.
Celestia fell back down onto her seat, eyes staring a thousand yards into the distance.
“I’m sorry,” she said. “You didn’t deserve that at all.”
“Where did that even come from?” Rarity asked, still holding her legs as close to her body as she was able. “I’ve never seen that side of you before!”
“Very few have,” Celestia said, rubbing her temples wither her forefingers. “It’s not something I’m proud of, but even I can lose my temper sometimes. I didn’t mean to imply that you thought—” Celestia shook her head and groaned. “It doesn’t matter what I thought or didn’t think, what I meant or didn’t mean. You didn’t deserve to be the target of such hostility, and I apologize.”
“Do you mind telling me what caused it?” Rarity asked, letting her hooves slowly descend back to the floor of the cabin. “I had no idea you were under such an enormous burden.”
“Because I’m very good at keeping my problems to myself,” Celestia said, and Rarity caught the hint. “You aren’t the first pony to think they’ve figured out something that I haven’t. But I do hope that you become the first pony to be right.”
“I honestly believe—” Rarity choked out, fighting a storm of anxiety because this needed to be said, and she refused to be afraid of Celestia, of all ponies. “I honestly believe that there must be some piece we’re missing. Something that we’ve all been overlooking. I don’t know how to find it, but I promise you that I will.”
Celestia stared straight into Rarity’s eyes with a frown and an ice cold sheen echoing in her eyes, and Rarity, despite the sweat beating down her forehead, simply stared back into Celestia’s eyes, trying to affect some measure of confidence.
Then Celestia smiled, and all was right in the world.
“I look forward to hearing all about it,” she said, “as soon as you find it, my dearest student.”