How long had it been?
It was light out. Dappling the woods in bright, shining hues that caught on the edges of lush growth. All the leaves on the trees-too-dense barely letting any of it down, yet some faint traces still managed to overpower the canopy. Yellowing the world in blinding tones, and lengthening the crawling shadows of branches over trodden grasses.
How long had it been?
The air was cool despite the shine, and even she felt it nipping at her coat. She shivered, despite the light over her mane, and clutched her hooves closer to herself. The hard, wooden step under her bore none of the lingering heat as it had when she'd sat down, and she felt none from the hug of her own body.
How long had it been?
Her jaw ached with the too-intense desire to yawn, but she bit it back for the sake of her pinching eyes. She'd been counting the distant drips echoing out from behind her, but she'd long since lost track. At some point it had just become something to do, and now she was just mindlessly listening to it empty. She'd been awake since she'd filled it, and she knew she'd have to stay awake until it was done.
Because there was nopony else to fill it.
One quiet motion from behind her grabbed her failing attention, and though her eyes did not move from their vigil, she smiled slightly at the sound of hoofsteps on wood drawing close.
The door creaked, and a hoof laid over her shoulder. Began to rub in a small circle, and she leaned her body into the small presence that pressed blessed warmth into her side. She forced her tired throat to rise in a hum, and her sister hummed softly back.
"How long has it been?" softly asked the smaller-than-her pony that was wrapping a welcome hoof around her side and nuzzling into her neck. Warm breath washing over her shoulder in a sigh.
Celestia closed her tired eyes, and she wasn't sure if she'd be able to open them again as the familiar warmth of her sister lulled her.
"I don't know," she answered, and her voice was hoarse.
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Her sister was asleep. And Luna knew it wouldn't last.
It seemed like she was always tired, recently. Like she could never get enough sleep for how long she was staying awake. Like she could never get enough rest for all she was doing, and she knew how much she did.
Luna was tired too. But Luna was always tired.
She'd taken her sister's place at the doorstep, and there she'd sit for however long until she broke her promise and went searching into the woods. She knew her sister wanted them to just stay put as they'd been told, but it had been...
Luna shifted on the warm step of wood, and cast her eye up. To the canopy above that had kept light for pots.
Well... she didn't really know how long it had been, now.
Drips passed, and lines filled, and it was all too soon before the pot was empty. The constant sound had ceased, yet it was not Luna's job to again wind that dial. Her sister would take care of it as she awoke, and then, Luna would have her own rest.
It was sad, Luna idly mused, that they'd seen so little of each other lately. Celestia had wanted at least one of them awake at all times, and with the chores piling up, there just wasn't much time to speak.
It hurt, to no seeming end. After her accident, and the wonderful reconciliation in few words they'd had after, to now feel so distant to her loving sister was...
She shook her head, and she swore she felt cobwebs dust off her mane.
It made her feel sort of sick. Like... the things they'd both agreed to do were somehow... wrong.
The step was cold, and so was she as she stood. Her bones creaked and her muscles ached from her lengthy time spent sitting, so she stretched each of her legs out behind her as she took weary steps forward. Soft grass underhoof that poked uncomfortably at her frogs, and it wasn't the first time Luna had wished that this was all just a dream.
She took a moment to stare back at the entrance to their home behind her. Weighing how long she had to search the forests before her sister would awake for her watch, and Luna could sleep.
She knew it was pointless, but she just... couldn't sit around for pots. She couldn't just wait, like Celestia.
She just couldn't handle that heartbreak.
Then she turned, let her wings unfurl, and took off into the scratchy brush.
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The kitchen was quiet.
The sound of carrots chopping was empty, as Celestia brought the knife to bear. Rows of uneven slices pushed to the side, laid into a pile that she'd soon throw over a firepan. The smoky smell of the embers she'd started in the hearth was already filling her head; the hard sounds of her falling knife each a small shock that brought her out of the fog.
There was no admonishment as she glanced away and let it fall too sharply; only the noise of dull metal on hard wood ringing startlingly in her ear. There was no chatter in the background about the pot's minutia, and no busy movement creaking across the worn floorboards.
Her eyes were still heavy from when she'd woken up, and the sound of dripping and soft snores echoing through the house was still too quiet.
It was all too quiet. For too long, it had been too quiet.
Another carrot finished and pushed to the side, and she reached for the next one. Her attention was elsewhere, her blind hoof grasped at air, and she seethed as her busy hoof went too-fast-too-quick.
Something red and too familiar dripped and stained onto the wood, and Celestia bit back an unmannerly curse as she let the knife fall to the table; clutching her stinging, bleeding hoof as squeezed her eyes shut. Cut herself chopping carrots.
Maybe she really was a screw-up.
She glanced skittishly to the side as her mind raced for a solution, and almost expected to see concerned eyes staring back at her. To hear some sweet concern, and to feel the embarrassment of being fretted over. It would've been familiar. Welcome.
But, of course, there was nopony there. It was quiet.
Her task of chopping was forgotten as she limped out to the main room, gnawing a worry into her lip as the sound of water dripping grew louder. She passed the pots on one side, and slowed to take note of the time.
Just under four lines. Not that it mattered so much, anymore. They barely lived by it recently.
She took care to not let the small ooze of blood drip and stain the floor as she found the small cupboard filled with cloth scraps, and hurriedly pulled out a short length of patchy grey. She folded it in half by its length, then let her horn alight to take it into the air. One wrap around the cut on her hoof, and she pulled the ends into a tight, messy bow.
She stared at the unfitting wrap for a moment, and for that moment, as the sound of dripping filled her head, it was a little harder than normal to forget.
To remember that the cloth was not white, and her fur was not stained red.
Celestia shook the memories away, and the heady scent of iron faded as she stood and turned to return to her task. Passed a closed door on her way through, and found herself slowing thoughtfully to a halt. She found herself staring at it for longer than she'd meant to, as her mind wandered again, and something scratchy wormed around her chest.
Her eye flicked down to her hoof, and then back to the door.
She'd been thinking too much, and she needed to stop. She needed peace of mind.
She tried not to let the door creak too loudly as she just took a faster-than-fast little peer into the shadowed room within.
Soft snoring, and a lump under the covers of a bed in the corner. The lump was moving; it was breathing.
Just... to make sure she was still... there. Still fine. Everything was fine.
Celestia shut the door as quietly as she could, and there was no sound from within as she listened. She took a long, deep breath that she tilted her head up into, before she finished with a nod, opened her eyes, and turned to go finish making whichever meal it was.
Because it was her responsibility.
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The wood was nearly rubbed raw.
Her shoulder ached with tired exertion, yet still she darted forward to hang low and swipe out with her knife. Another score across its extremely scarred face, and she jumped to the side as she anticipated a downward swing.
Her breathing was off-center; it always seemed to be recently. The vital energy just didn't come as easily as it used to, and her hoof felt heavier than it should've as it took her entire weight and sprung her back towards the log. Her stone dagger sunk into the pale flesh of the log with the heft of her thrown weight, and she took a moment to cough out a deep breath as the side that she'd thrown into the wood throbbed.
Then, she let her ragged breath rise in a yell, and forced her knife out through its side.
Splinters flew in a shower of imaginary blood, and Luna caught herself in her unsteady stumble to hop back; the second knife in her second hoof twirling around as she let her wings carry her into the air. She kept her right close to her chest with its held blade out, as her left swung about in the air beside her.
Her chest heaved hot breath through her gaping mouth, and her eyes narrowed to slits on the sight of her enemy. One slash across the crest of their chest, and a hoof-deep stab into where she was sure the heart was. If they were heavily armored, then they'd have survived... If not, they'd be dead...
She coughed again, deeply, and blinked as everything blurred for a moment. She caught her breath and held it as her lungs screamed, and she locked her hooves in a ready stance in front of her. Eyes twitching, and frown twisting oddly.
Luna had to be ready for either possibility. Combat was a thousand branching paths of contradicting outcomes, and a warrior had to consider each and every one of them. No matter the wear. No matter the injury.
But what was the point?
Her back hooves found the ground, and her knives were tossed aside as she sank down to all fours. Sank lower, and she was spitting hot breath at the sandy ground. Another moment, and her back legs gave out as her cheek kissed the floor.
She just... couldn't catch her breath, was all. She just... needed... a moment...
How many more moments do you have to spare?
She squeezed her eyes closed as she continued to draw in shallow breaths, and only barely found the strength to swat at the buzzing fly in her ear.
She didn't need this. She just... she didn't want to talk, right now, alright?
You have avoided speaking since they left. You must speak.
Luna gasped in another desperate breath, and rolled herself onto her side as it did so little. Curled her damp, dirty, pounding hooves close, and touched her nose to their crossing as little shakes rattled through her.
She didn't want to. She wanted to keep waiting.
You cannot wait forever.
Celestia wanted to.
Your sister is as lost as you are.
She knew that.
Then why do you continue to wait?
Something snapped in that moment, and suddenly biting her lip wasn't good enough.
Her cheek wet, and a sob broke free as she curled closer in on herself. The light that had continued to shine overhead for too many pots to count burned her coat as she began to cry; entirely alone in the sandy clearing where she'd learned to fight.
It was because she was afraid.
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The step was warm, and so was her side.
Celestia hummed a wordless tune as she looked out into the brightly lit growth, and her sister hummed alongside her. It was not even. It was not pitched. It wasn't the same tune.
But still, they hummed.
The air was still cool, and the sun still laid at apex in the sky, but even the monotony had a certain charm. With her sister pressed into her side keeping her warm, looking at the same shadows as she: it didn't matter how long it would last.
Her smile, kept for however long she'd been sitting, felt worn, but she kept it even as her sister's hum gradually petered off. Kept humming on her own, as her sister shuffled into her side. This was all she needed. They could keep going.
Her sister leaned away, and her smile cracked.
"We can't keep waiting like this," Luna whispered, and Celestia shook her head at the hollowed voice. Tried to keep her smile even as her heart wavered.
"We have to," she whispered thinly back, and she could feel another crack in her smile. That was fine. Everything was fine.
She felt the comforting weight of her sister again as she pushed her face into her side, and of course she nestled her closer. Let her hoof hug her sister closer, as she felt her fur grow wet.
"They're not coming back," came Luna's muffled whisper through her fur, and Celestia blinked the hot feeling in her face away. Ignored it.
She shook her head. "You don't know that," she murmured, as something salty dripped down into her half-smile. This could last.
Her sister began to shake against her, and Celestia let her shift around into her lap. Held her close. Let the soft, shaking sobs die into her coat as she rested her chin on her head, and whispered sweet silences as she stroked her mane.
And still, she looked forward; tears falling down her wobbling frown as she cradled her sister. Hummed a broken tune and rocked her body as she did her best to soothe her weeping sister.
Both of them still waiting for the sight of their parents coming home.
But they never would.