we’re the only ones left. you don’t get to die.
There was a time where Anduin would not believe a single word that spills from the mouth of Zoen, a time where tag was often played, laughter and whining. Even then, Anduin could not see the possibilities of what the future had held nor could he believe it to ever happen as his father was a hero and heroes tended to survive a long, long time. My father can't die. He's practically immortal! His childlike voice replaying over and over...
He isn't a child anymore despite what his reflection might tell and how others spoke to him and of. Others lingered near the sight of Varian's stoned casket where Anduin stayed closer than normal, a single hand laying upon the Lion crest, a sniffle and a nod.
As the others leave, they bid their farewells and their apologies. And that was something Anduin could not understand, to apologize for the death of someone so dear but he doesn't say anything except for a single thank you. He gathers the courage to turn now but only then did the presence of Zoen surprises him, stopping him right in his tracks.
She stands there. He waves, something small. Zoen wasn't expected here, the now crowned king didn't think he'd show up or if word had arrived.
"Hello..." Awkwardly spoken. And it was then that she speaks. No hellos, how are you. Just simple, joyful words of: We're the only ones left, you don't get to die.
Anduin looks around. Brows furrowing, a single clear of his throat, "If this is your way of showing remorse then you should start working on it otherwise saying it to the wrong person will get you killed... again." Still he cannot help but to give a half-hearted smile, "Though I feel like you're threatening me, Zoen. I've no choice. You know this."
