True Love Never Dies
"They say that true love never dies."
"And who's 'they'?"
"Whoever wrote this card I suppose."
"Let me see it."
Khadgar obliged, and Jaina found herself looking at a picture of a winged goblin firing an arrow with a tip in the colour and shape of a heart. Above it were the words "Love is in the Air." Below it was the headline "Azeroth Couples – Who Won This Year's Poll?"
"I thought you said that true love never dies."
"Not me, 'they,'" Khadgar murmured. From his chair, he looked up at the mage. "Open it."
Slowly, Jaina obliged. Before her was a 'pairings list' of various "Azeroth Couples," beginning with Genn and Mia Greymane, and going down to-
No.
She slammed the card shut, tossed it aside, and let out a stream of fire from her fingertip. A second later, all that was in the air were pieces of burning paper. And fire of another kind was in her eyes as she glared at Khadgar.
"True love never dies," she whispered. "Jaina and Arthas Menethil. Winners of this year's Love is in the Air Poll."
Khadgar grunted, picked up a book, and began reading.
"Did you think that I might not want to be reminded of that?"
"I didn't particularly think much about it at all," Khadgar said. "Though I suppose you might be grateful to think that many people remember a time when you and Prince Arthas were the talk of the Eastern Kingdoms." He closed the book and smiled – a sad, grim smile, but a smile nonetheless. "And look on the bright side – you and Kalec are at least acknowledged."
The fire remained in Jaina's eyes, mixed with a touch of frost. Fire followed by ice. Her relationship with Arthas, Prince of Lordaeron, King of the Damned, in a nutshell.
"And you think this is funny?" she asked. "There's talk of demonic activity at the Broken Isles, and you think the Kirin Tor should be reading love mail?"
"I think we should be reminded of those we hold close to us." He let out a sigh. "Especially in these dark times."
"Tell that to Cordana. How about Yrel? Or maybe Garona. How did that-"
"And have you told Kalec that?"
Jaina paused, not sure what bothered her more. That she hadn't. Or that now, she didn't care.
She looked out the window of the tower the pair of mages resided in. The window faced to the west. To the Broken Isles, the Maelstrom – the mark of the first Sundering, and according to rumours, a font for a third demonic invasion. And…She flexed her right hand. Hard. Weathered. Not so much from casting magic, but from keeping her staff close. Being ready to use it against any who would try to twist the knife even deeper. Now she felt nothing. Eleven years ago she had faced the Burning Legion, even meeting Archimonde face to face. Five years ago she had fought another war to save all life on Azeroth a second time, as her former partner decided that it was a good idea to bring all life into a state of undeath. Two years ago she'd witnessed mass murder of a slightly smaller, yet no less horrific kind, as Theramore burnt around her. One year ago, she'd been reminded that the universe didn't believe in granting favours, nor the multiverse, as an alternate timeline managed to repeat history through the Iron Horde. And now, looking out to the west, blinking as she saw what looked like green lightning…she felt nothing. Absolutely nothing. As if she had become undead herself.
"True love never dies," she murmured. She looked back at Khadgar. "You're right. It doesn't. Provided that one twists it into a grotesque parody of life, and keeps it going so that every waste of flesh and bone on this world thinks that it's fine to trade gossip about me being paired with the greatest monster this world as ever seen, and Hell you're still reading!"
This time, an entire ball of fire extended from her hand and was directed towards the book that Khadgar had picked back up. And for a moment, she was reminded of Kael. She'd forgotten all about him. Thankfully the poll had as well. Less thankfully was Khadgar catching the ball of fire in one hand, and dissipating it. He looked up at her, no trace of expression on his features. That was what hit her hardest. How calm he seemed.
"Why are you reading?" she asked. "Why does the world even care whether love is in the air when…something else is?"
"Because that something might become manifest. And until that time comes, I'd like to think some joy can be found."
"Spoken like an old man."
"Old enough to have seen more wars than you have. Old enough to appreciate how many years I lost in Kharazhan. Old enough to see that your wounds have not healed." He frowned. "Wounds that pre-date Theramore."
"Do you think I care what you think?"
"What I think? No. But there are people that care about you. And-"
"Don't," Jaina said. "Not now."
"Then when?"
She didn't answer. She instead left the room right then. Thinking about it all.
Kael. Arthas. Kalec. He, at least, hadn't become her enemy, but this…this wouldn't work, she told herself. Not now, as the world faced oblivion. Not again, for herself – not a third time. And the tale of a mortal and a dragon. A dragon once more being part of the Council of Six, only this time a blue rather than a red. She would not be the Rhonin to Kalec. She would not meet the same fate.
Though as she heard the sound of thunder, Jaina reflected that she, and the world, might not have much choice in that matter.
A/N
This was written around Valentine's Day, when Blizzard did a poll for the "best Azeroth couple." Surprise surprise, Jaina and Arthas won. It sparked this idea, especially when I saw a comment arguing that Jaina and Arthas shouldn't be an option by virtue of Arthas being dead.
And at the least, it gives me a chance to knock KalecxJaina because...well, do I even have to explain why I think the entire concept behind that was stupid? :(