((Been battling a long writer’s block lately. They come on occasion. Best remedy is to write, but what’s unlikely to come as a surprise is I’m a perfectionist. So I’ve been writing, not publishing, and it’s time to relinquish a bit of anxiety and publish already. This would have been written and published some months ago, but I felt the weight of it was more than what I could handle during the block. So it’s come belated, still not what I’d wanted, but finally arrived.
Taran lingered in her shadow until she set a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Jeremy worked with your father, Taran. Sometimes old friends come to visit. Help Lei Lah in the kitchen, please.”
Nodding, the child beamed and bounced to the kitchen, receiving a warm reception from the Pandaren. She tucked the child under her wing, keeping a careful eye on the goings-on nearby.
“I apologize for the nature of this visit, Justicar,” Jeremy began, remaining standing. “And I apologize for being here as long as I have, but I had to deliver it in person. To you. It’s… incredible news, and I thought, given the way news was delivered last time…” The young man trailed off, whitening. Finally confronted with the purpose of his visit, he was almost overcome.
“Aye,” Arialynn spoke, filling in the awkward silence between them.
“The… the body. They found it, m’lady. A little while ago, actually And there was… there were some problems, and he was misidentified, and then he was — “
Though spoken at a quickening pace, the words slowed as they repeated in Arialynn’s mind. Again, she caught a look from Lei Lah in the kitchen, the old Pandaren ever keen and observant. ” — Hold a moment, Jeremy. Start again. My husband’s body has been found?”
The young man stammered and stopped. Staring straight at Arialynn, he reddened. “My apologies, Justicar. I should’ve said this part sooner. It wasn’t a body. He’s alive. Commander Dawnfield is alive. When he came to, they — “
The words slowed till they were unrecognizable. Though Arialynn’s eyes tracked around the room, the rims of her vision blurred, distant with memory. A small hand clasping hers brought her to. Blinking, she gazed directly into her son’s eyes. A pair of green eyes, so much like his father’s.
Pressing a kiss against the child’s forehead, Arialynn returned her gaze to the soldier. “Jeremy, start again,” she said steadily. “And tell me where he is now.”