There weren’t a lot of trains that left Equestria. Most of them ran to its borders at most.
There was an exception to the south, however. A long line that ran past Appleloosa, into the badlands and beyond. It was a route maintained by ponies the entire length, but at some point along the journey Rarity wouldn’t be hearing much Equestrian.
While the bar car was lit, it was dark enough that it gave Rarity some privacy for her thoughts. The silence helped, too, save for the kachunk-kachunk of the wheels and rails. She left most of her belongings in the cabin, save for a single bag she stuffed beneath the table she sat at, nursing some dark brown drink that came from Griffonstone. Between looking out the window and hiding beneath a wide, floppy hat, she was certain she wouldn’t be noticed and bothered.
There wasn’t much to see outside. It was a poor time of the month for the moon’s reflected sunlight to bathe the world in its cool blue hues. All Rarity could make out were the trees and posts the train passed and lit with the lights from the cars, plus the distant lights of some village or town.
It made her a little homesick. That settlement could have been Ponyville for all she knew, save for the fact she was on a line that went nowhere near her hometown. It still nevertheless felt the same. She’d seen it from a similar vantage point before, like staring into a valley of static fireflies, dimming out one by one as they went to sleep.
Feeling a presence beside her, Rarity turned her head and started to say, “I don’t need anything thank you.” She got to the second half of anything then shut her mouth as she looked at a stallion sitting opposite her.
“I—I’m not interested,” she said instead, switching from polite indifference to stammering.
He winced, but kept his grin. His lilac coat wrinkled around deep, purple eyes, while much of the rest of him was hidden beneath a long coat. “Oof, not even a hello. Somepony’s got to work on her manners.”
“Sorry,” said Rarity. “That was a bit rude, I just…” She hummed. “I meant to say I want to be alone, and I, well—“
“You assumed I was going to get my flirt on?” he asked, his face smoothing out. He laughed. “It’s not uncommon on train rides like these, I know. But, trust me, you’re safe from any lecherous intent. I’m, ah, not interested in mares like that.”
Rarity blinked, then her shoulders dropped. “Oh, well, good. The feeling is mutual.”
“Ooh, that one was intentional.”
Rarity smirked. “It was.”
He laughed again, and though his voice was deep it was oddly high and pleasant.
Rarity kept eye contact for a few moments before turning back to the window, her hat mostly obscuring him from her vision. She sipped her drink, then set the glass back down.
“What did you want?” she asked.
He shrugged and leaned back in his seat. “Company, conversation. I can’t sleep, and neither can you. Figured you’d like a little of the same.”
“I’m not sure I’ll be a great conversationalist right now,” admitted Rarity.
He nodded, then looked out of the window. The distant lights were moving steadily across the window, growing dimmer and smaller as they travelled.
“Missing home?” he asked.
“A little.”
“Why are you out here?”
She sighed, the smiled. “Adventure.”
He laughed again, rocking in his chair. “It’s as good a reason as any.”
She hummed, then took another swig of her drink.
They sat in silence for the next few minutes.
“Do you regret coming out here?”
Rarity turned to face the stallion again.
“Not at all,” she answered.
He nodded, maintaining his gaze with her for a few more moments. She felt like she was being studied by him, and after a minute she broke the staring contest and looked back outside.
The village was gone. She was further away from home than she was before.
The chair opposite her scraped on wood, and the stallion sighed. “You were right, not a great talker. Here I was hoping to make your night a little more exciting.” He walked away, then opened a door to the next car, letting the wind and noise from outside carry in.
“Goodnight, Rarity.”
The door shut, and her head shot up. Her heart thumped away in her chest as she rushed up to the door the stallion had walked through, then looked through its window to the next car along.
She didn’t see him, just empty seats of a cheaper ticket car.
With a huff she turned away from the door and the thought. She couldn’t let ponies figuring out who she was get to her like that. She could only hide from the public eye for so long, after all. She had connections, she was in bed with a Princess. She was absolutely recognizable.
It was a wonder she hadn’t been all over the tabloids already, truth be told.
She huffed to herself, holding her head high, and walked back to the table.
Her bag was gone from beneath it. Instead there was a folded envelope beneath her nearly empty glass, a little damp from condensation.
With a tightness in her chest, she snatched up the envelope and tore the letter out from inside. She unfolded it, holding the corners taut at the corners, and read.
Her anger didn’t disappear. It intensified, but it had an added, determined edge to it that cut through her face in a grin.
She tore it up, sprinkled it over the table, then darted the direction the stallion departed.
Dear Rarity,
You did a really excellent job with the gallery. I’ve thought a lot about how you did it all, but that message was really impressive. I guess my math and cryptography talks managed to sink in at some point.
Of course I have to take the coronet back. I figured getting you to chase me instead would be a fun change of pace.
Catch me if you can!
Love,
Twilight.