Air lied still, floating without flowing in the musty old apartment. Copious amounts of dust motes flew around in the rays of green light shining out from beneath the wrinkled covers, a testament to the poor shape of the dwelling. Various pieces of paper waste and cloth scraps had been laid on the floor, partially uneaten food littered the counter, and more than a little garbage was strewn about. In a literal sense, the place was a disgusting mess.

Newspaper stacks had been toppled over on the three legged coffee table near the front door, the dates blotted out from where the periodicals had been used as napkins. Behind the counter, the few bits of fresh food were piled around haphazardly and there was a mountain of dishes piled in the wash basin - which had started to leak from the faucet every time it was turned on due to a lack of maintenance. The bookshelf was a train wreck, the pile of boxes in the corner looked like a tornado had hit it and mounds of dirty clothing spilled out of the closet. Although the apartment was small and a bit cramped, it was so disorderly and unorganized that it seemed even smaller than it actually was.

And it was still musty. Stale. Dark. Lifeless.

There were no pictures hanging on the walls, which were instead covered in clippings from maps of Kalimdor and various old letters from her family members marked for who had sent them and what monumental life events she'd missed. There were no mirrors since the inhabitant no longer took care to adjust her hair and clothes at all, and there were no light sources since she preferred to just be in the dark. For any sane person, such a place would have felt like a prison; and for Sharimara, it was exactly the home she truly wanted: remote, isolated and away from people.

For four days she'd hidden herself away from the world, running her rounds of collecting protection money and dropping it off at the office while stealthed so she wouldn't have to see anybody. She donned her armor when going out to handle her assigned debtors in a needlessly rough manner, only to return to her apartment and change directly into the same pair of pajamas she'd been wearing for four days. She'd spent a grand total of about sixteen hours outside of that little hole during the previous ninety six, spending the rest going over letters from her family that she'd ignored for years, drawing timelines of every nephew or niece who had had more kids (and even grandkids in a few cases), every move and relocation of the extended Hearthglen family, every major gathering that she'd missed.

And more than anything, she'd gone over every single word, every single letter, of the mail she'd received from Centrius in the previous months. Sleeping much less than was healthy, she paced back and forth in an apartment that was only three paces wide due to the mess, wasting two notepads of paper trying to write the most detailed apologies she could, throwing away every single one due to dissatisfaction with every specific way she thought of possibly wording it.

So engrossed was she in her self pity and hatred - like a self 'patred' - that she didn't even notice the familiar sound of Dilly's approach until the woman was already knocking on the door.

"Hey lovebirds, is everything alright?" the goblin called from outside.

Her voice bore its usual high pitch, but the sudden intrusion from a person other than a debtor startled the warden so much that she dropped the pile of letters from her family containing photographs of all the new births she'd missed over the past few years. Pictures and papers fluttered to the floor, only adding to the mess that her little hole had already become. Grabbing her literal blanket and wrapping it around herself like a figurative security blanket, Sharimara just stared at the door for a minute, slow to react after having reverted to her old, reclusive habits for a few days.

Dilly knocked again, her voice growing markedly impatient. "What, you're not going to tell us all how it went? Is he...is he here with you?" The cheeriness in the small woman's voice caused Sharimara's ears to droop before she'd even opened the door to deliver the bad news.

Wordlessly, the warden crept over to the door, carelessly stepping on old newsletters and coupons she'd decided to simply use as a rug. A few of them stuck to her feet and she used their removal as an excuse to delay opening to the door, but in the end she was still faced with the fact that she'd have to face her colleagues eventually. Squealing in audible disappointment through her nose, she pulled the door open while hugging the blanket more tightly around herself.

"Well there you...oh," Dilly cried and then sighed. She peeked in between Sharimara's long legs to get a look at the messy apartment, and a knowing look of confusion washed over her face. "Oh sweetie, what happened?"

Too embarrassed to immediately invite the goblin inside to vent but too lonely to shop her away, Sharimara just stepped away from the door to send the hint that Dilly was welcome. "I...I've made a terrible mistake," she sighed, her eyes downcast as she let the goblin inside and shut the door behind her.

Dilly surveyed the depressing dwelling, her only source of light Sharimara's green eyes. "I'd ask you to light a candle, but you might set all this trash on fire in the process. Shari, what the fel happened?"

"Well...I..."

"Come on, sit down," Dilly sighed while grabbing the larger woman's hand and leading her over to her own couch. There was a sharp increase in the amount of stern impatience in the goblin's voice right away, and Sharimara already feared that the results would be obvious. "Keep it short; bottom line, what happened?" she asked once both of them were seated.

Sharimara pulled the blanket over the top of her head like a visor as if trying to hide. The green glow and the long indigo ears poking out made it look like a ridiculous disguise. "We didn't even make it to dinner on the first night," she replied, reciting the lines she'd already practiced several times over the past four days in anticipation of when she'd find another living soul who cared to listen.

"Why? Shari, the two of you waited for so long to try and make things work, what on Azeroth happened so fast?"

Crossing her legs in front of herself on the couch, she tried to curl as much in the position of a ball as their positions next to each other would allow. She felt melodramatic doing it, but the posture helped her to feel a little more comfortable talking. "He started it. He lied to me about why he came. He didn't have a temporary job here; he made that up so he could come visit me."

When she didn't continue, Dilly leaned closer as if waiting for more. And when more didn't come, the little goblin leaned back and furrowed her brow in what could almost be described as irritation. "Alright, go on."

"Well...he lied, and I got mad. I've been lied to by men before, and I just...felt afraid. So I asked him why he lied, and he may or may not have given a full answer but I was really scared, and so I yelled at him because I felt trapped. Then I asked how he knew about my address because come to think of it, I'm not listed anywhere, and he confessed that he actually tracked my family down in Ratchet. I haven't talked to them in a few years and I know they had a hand in this, and it just felt so unfair. All these decisions about my personal life were being made without me and I felt so smothered, and I didn't know how to deal with it because I've been alone for so long and...I told him to leave me alone."

Dilly scooted closer to her on the couch. "Alright, it's been four days so this would be his last day: where is he right now?"

"He left. The ship he arrived on was set to sail out the next day so he switched his ticket to leave. I know he did because when I went to the inn to apologize to him the next evening, the management told me the story after I threatened to burn the place down."

"What the...argh...just continue."

"They told me...that...they told me that he looked...so sad. Like they knew something was wrong when he left, and he paid extra to get back on the ship and leave before noon. So he's on that ship right now, sailing across the ocean thinking that I rejected him..." Her voice weakened toward the end of the sentence, the image of how he looked at the last moment flashing in her mind and crushing her under the weight of her guilt. Unable to look up due to embarrassment, she merely mumbled her question. "I guess my reaction was...a bit stupid..."

Despite her initial impressions of the office secretary, Dilly had proven herself over the past few months to be surprisingly insightful and intelligent. At various times she'd provided very surprising pieces of advice on how to calm down and analyze social situations objectively, and then to step back into the personal bubble and experience them emotionally once more. If there was one person that Sharimara trusted to give her the right answers, it was Dilly.

Maybe she'd say something inspiring, a sort of uplifting proverb to help heal the soul.

Maybe she'd say something thoughtful, a sort of choice piece of advice that would reveal secrets unknown.

Maybe she'd say something sympathetic, a sort of comment that would display empathy and reassurance that not all mistakes were beyond solution.

Or maybe she'd just be her usual blunt, straightforward self.

"Yep. It was stupid, alright. Incredible, unbelievably, embarrassingly stupid."

"I...deserve that, I guess-"

"An Arathi raptor sniffing its own poo probably has more brainpower than the reaction you just described to me."

"I know, Dilly."

"Seriously, if I administered a standardized test to the version of Shari that you just described to me and to a potato, the potato would probably score higher."

"Okay, Dilly."

"I once watched a hobgoblin try to eat its own face, and I would honestly not even expect that guy to do what you did."

"Alright, I get it! But I...Dilly, help me!" she cried.

Taking a deep breath and looking very annoyed and tired, Dilly leaned her chin in her hands. "I'm going to help you, but I'm also going to start charging you money for this. So be ready to receive a bill in the inbox, which you have to come to me to check anyway."

"Just tell me how to fix this!"

"First and foremost, you need to put this in the right perspective, which means understanding exactly why you're so stupid. Then you can correct said stupid behavior and ensure to avoid it in the future. So exhibit A: a hot guy has been obsessed with you for a bajillion years, so much so that the thought of your rejection makes him nervous. So he makes up a lame story that you probably should have seen through from the beginning just so he can sail across the entire world to visit you for only five days. If he lied, then that's the most romantic freaking lie in the whole wide world. Objections?"

"The fact that he's hot doesn't matter and a bajillion isn't a real number."

"Other objections?"

Sharimara felt any sort of defiance that might have bubbled up in her temperamental self die down rather quickly in the face of Dilly's brazen attitude. "No..." she sighed.

"Good. Exhibit B: he tried to answer you and you either interrupted him or weren't listening. Objections?"

"No..."

"Exhibit C: your family cares about you so much that they write to you constantly for a decade, and they apparently trusted this guy if they 'had a hand in this,' whatever that means. At no point did him visiting your family, them writing you letters or you agreeing to meet him here result in any sort of outside control over your life. Objections?"

Her ego bruised like a grape, Sharimara just pulled the blanket off of her head, no longer seeing the point in hiding herself if her error had been fully exposed. "So I know what I did wrong. Now what?"

Without skipping a beat, Dilly yanked the rest of the blanket off of her and answered. "You tell him. You tell him why it was wrong so he knows that you actually mean your informed apology, and then you explain to him how you felt scared just like he did, and then you swear on whatever it is you believe in that you will never, ever hurt him again."

Sharimara shook her head in despair. "Just throw myself at his feet, then? What will he think of me if I chase after him like that? I'd just devalue myself in his eyes."

"Shari, this isn't some quick relationship with a guy you met at a bar last weekend. This is a guy who waited for a thousand years to see you, and you waited a thousand to see him. In normal circumstances, yeah, accept that relations have been soured and pledge to yourself to behave more calmly during disputes with future partners. But this...shit, Shari, who the hell is going to hold out for a hundred and sixty goddamned years just for the chance to spend one week with you? If there ever was an extraordinary situation where humbling yourself in front of another person is warranted, then this is it."

Finally meeting Dilly's determined eyes again, Sharimara felt her cynicism grabbing her by her knotty, unkempt braids and trying to pull her back down again. And she hated it...she hated that part of herself so much. Even if her hope had been destroyed, she at least held on to the hope of having hope; that alone was enough to spur her to respond to her friend's encouragement.

"But...but how do I explain all that in writing? How do I know he won't just toss the letter in the garbage or even..." She winced noticeably. "What if he rips it up? I would."

Arching her head back as if she'd heard another stupid statement, Dilly's expression was one of indignant shock. "Writing? Are you crazy? You're going to see his ass in person." The goblin leapt off the couch and invited herself into Sharimara's bedroom once more. "Come on, let me get you dressed. We're going to explain to Mao Mao that you need a little more time off and then buy you the next freaking ticket to Feathermoon Stronghold."

"No!" Sharimara burst out while frantically trying to squeeze out from between her couch and coffee table. Her apartment was too cramped to begin with, and all the paper clippings and candy wrappers slid around and slowed her down enough such that Dilly had, for the third time, dove into her closet. "That's crazy, I can't just sail halfway around the world on a whim and hope he'll hear me out!"

The first bit of unsatisfactory clothing flew in her direction, soon followed by a flurry of garments blurring her vision. Dilly was obviously somewhere at the eye of the fabric storm, but her fast little form was indiscernible due to the even greater mess she was making. "That's what he did!" the goblin replied sternly from the center of the flying clothing. "Do you want to give things with him a fair chance, or are you sulking over nothing?"

"You know I do! Why else would I be so upset!"

"If you're serious, then you shouldn't have a problem reciprocating. He took a risk visiting your family in Ratchet without knowing them, and writing such a mushy letter in the first place, and buying a ticket to come here before even confirming that you'd be able to meet him, and in putting himself out there to see you in the first place. Considering how royally you screwed things up, I think it's fair that you accept a little bit of emotional risk on your part."

A part of Sharimara wanted to grab the audacious little woman and toss her out in the hallway, and just hide herself away from the world until she found herself old and feeble. By a stroke of luck she felt undeserved, the part of her that wanted to erase all that happened and start over again, and to try to make things work out...to pick up from where they left off...that part was stronger. Fortunately for her, to indulge that part of herself only required that she stand there and let her friend make arrangements for her as she had several times before.

While the flurry of flying clothes eventually died down, Sharimara sat on the edge of her bed and tried to cope with the fact that, after only a few minutes of prodding, she'd already let herself be convinced of doing something completely crazy.

"Dilly...I'm scared," she confessed, speaking in a low voice. Nothing scared Sharimara; not the time she'd been swallowed whole by a silithid colossus, not the time she'd woken up buried in a coffin after crossing a cartel trade prince, not the time she grabbed onto a bail jumping crow druid who flew her above the eye of a hurricane before she'd finally strangled him enough to force him to make an emergency landing. But the thought of how Centrius might react scared her. "What if I go there and he tells me...if he..."

"Rejects you?" Dilly asked rhetorically as she walked out carrying a thankfully demure pandaren robe more suited to winter. "Is that the word you're looking for?"

The goblin's unsympathetic raided eyebrow didn't go unnoticed, and Sharimara felt herself blush from embarrassment. "I'm trying to tell you how I feel," she whined. "Hypocritical or not, I don't think I can face the prospects of him yelling at me. I'd-"

"Okay, all those feelings you're about to talk about? Those deep, dark thoughts about fear and pain? That's what we'll need you to tell Cent. No more pretending and hiding; if you want to have a relationship like a normal person, then you need to learn to put yourself out there the way he did. Not with every person you meet or even a single soul other than him, but at least with him. Now come on," the goblin said while tossing the clothes at her. "Get dressed. The very next ship to Feathermoon will be your ship. Either way, I'm sure you won't be able to book anything earlier than tomorrow since tickets tend to be sold past noon. We can practice what you'll say once you're voyage is guaranteed."

Sharimara held the clothes in her lap for a moment. Deep in her heart, she wanted nothing more than to patch things up with him, but the sudden change in plans disoriented her. "I don't even know entere I'm going," she mumbled.

"We have an address; once you're on the island, you can check with any sentry. Your mom's people are stickers for organization and all that. Plus, you told me once that her told you all about his daughter back at Booty Bay and the business she runs. What's her name?"

"Maha is her name; it sounds like the diminutive of the Zandali name Mahavira. Her husband is Zendi and is pure night elf, so that name is probably short for Zendithir."

"And you remembered that after a hundred and sixty years? Honey, you obviously want this thing to succeed. I can't even remember the names of guys I slept with ten years ago, and here you are remembering the name of his kid and her hubby after so long."

Robbed of her security blanket, Sharimara hugged the robes she'd been tossed for a moment. "I've been taking so much time off work in the past few months...Mao Mao might get upset."

"Stop looking for reasons to chicken out! Mao Mao is the one who sent me here, and you rarely even took staycations for the first decade of work. Yao Guai himself will probably want you to get your personal business sorted out anyway, just so you can focus on your job. Come on, get dressed! We have to go!"

Slowly rising into a standing position, Sharimara found her feet filled with lead. "I'm still scared," she murmured.

Like several times before, Dilly actually grabbed her hand as if she was a child crossing the street. "Then be scared; the risk is part of what makes relationships magical. Come on, go get dressed! I didn't invest this much work into helping you be normal to see you give up!" In a bizarre violation of the laws of physics, the office secretary somehow dragged the giantess who was the office enforcer out of the bedroom and shoved her into the bathroom, closing her in.

Alone for a few minutes, Sharimara stared at the part of the wall where a mirror would have been in a normal dwelling. The green glow of her eyes reflected on the tiles of the bathroom walls, the two light sources reflecting back at her like a green eyed monster.

The questions that had swirled around in her mind a few days before were gone. In their stead was an overarching sense of dread, and the feeling that perhaps she deserved the misery she was currently wallowing in. But Centrius didn't deserve the stiff rejection he'd received; of that, she felt sure. Rationalizing her actions as a mercy to him and an apology that he certainly deserved, she got herself dressed and took solace in the fact that she had a friend bullheaded enough to push her. Whether or not she'd be lucky enough to express herself properly once face to face with him, and whether or not he'd want to hear her out, would be a source of anxiety she'd simply have to bear until the big day came.