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Saving Private Arthas

Preface/Chapter 0.5

Sneaky Intrusion

"Right, tell us the story," said the elf of the party with a feigned warm voice. It took little for the elf to wish to hype up whatever what was about to be said, it seemed. The mere notion of his new young rogue companion talking to Highlord Tirion Fordring had been enough to set his sights on a mission with her.

She cleared her throat loudly, ensuring the elf would shut his greedy mouth before she spoke. "Just this morning, my scouts informed me of a Cult of the Damned procession leaving from Icecrown Citadel to the Cathedral of Darkness, bearing an artifact. And now I learn that it might be Arthas' own heart... a thing containing the last bit of his remaining humanity. This is a sign of the Light. As long as such an artifact exists, there is a chance that Arthas Menethil can become a man again! Meet me at the cathedral's entrance. Be sure to bring a cultist's hood – we're going incognito."

"That's what he said?" asked the little gnome with the twirled mustache. "That doesn't sound safe."

"That's what he told me," responded the human rogue with a sigh. "Are you questioning my ears?"

"I wouldn't dream of questioning anything from a lovely lady, such as yourself," said Monroe to Tabitha, who clearly wasn't welcoming his advances.

"Fat elf," she mumbled so softly that he couldn't hear. "Well, I suggest we be on our way to kill some cultists, before I loose my mind."

Monroe grinned. "For me that is already too late. I sure am glad Lord Tirion assigned me to your party." The wink he gave her was enough to darken her cheeks in anger.

"I will wipe that smile of your face with the edge of a dull blade, you snivelling –"

"Please! There's no need to use violence!" squeaked the gnome.

"A dull blade will hardly hurt him, Joe, fear not." Tabitha reached into the purse attached to her belt, grabbing her old trusty dagger to show it to the gnome. She kneeled in front of him as if she were talking to a small child, along with half a mind to pat his grey hair in the process.

"I would want to believe that, but I've seen you chop into plenty of things with that thing since our short trip through Howling Fjord."

"Hmpf, I bet she has.." sighed Monroe. Tabitha raced to his side, rapidly shoving the cold steel of her dull blade to his throat.

"What was that now?" she said calmly.

"Oh, nothing. Let's go and do what you told us to," said Monroe, just as calm as Tabitha, but she knew better than to fall for that. They always piss themselves with fear when they see how quick on my feet I am.

"You mean what Lord Tirion commanded us to do. Or would you like to join your demonic brothers in the Horde instead?"

That at least go a reaction Tabitha would want from her companions. "They are not my brothers. They are traitors at best."

"I thought the Argent Crusade were neutral?" sounded Joe's soft voice. Tabitha quickly shushed him, for fear of making the elf's newfound hatred disappear before a good fight.

"Good. Then let's kill some cultists. They are just as bad, after all."

It only took about ten minutes for the small party to reach the Cathedral of Darkness in full cultist clothing. Other than a slight hiccup with Monroe insisting they get into their roles fully by changing their haircuts, things had proved to be less troublesome than the party had anticipated. Even for Joe the gnome they'd managed to find something he could fit into, and to their delight, the disguises worked like a charm.

"You better not give us away, Joe. Stop shaking for Light's sake!" Tabitha hissed as they walked up to the corner in which Highlord Tirion stood. It had taken a moment for even Tabitha to recognise him, and she was rather used to sneaking into buildings with partners in disguise. To her displeasure, Monroe had some sort of sixth sense he used to spot Tirion's particular brand of magic, or perhaps he'd felt it. Or maybe he was just lucky, which was the best Tabitha's ego could hope for. In any case, they found him, and he was only too pleased to see them all.

"You brought company?" he asked, looking down to Joe and up to Monroe from the shadows of his mask. Hm, maybe not too pleased.

"I have," answered Tabitha. "Is there a problem?"

"Well, they haven't unmasked you yet, so I suppose it's not too suspicious.. Are you sure he's going to be fine, though?" He made a slight gesture to Joe, who was still shaking in his boots from all the Scourge around him.

"You are too gentle, Highlord, for still allowing him to tag along." 'He's a coward, but his father paid me good money to remove his stereotypical gnome status,' she had wanted to add, but thought the better of it. That would be the last thing to boost little Joe's confidence. "But the elf told me you sent him."

"Let's not talk about this," Monroe said quickly.

"Indeed, we must drop this. We have an important task to fulfill," said the Highlord. Tabitha shook her head disapprovingly, but gave in all the same.

The party walked to the center of the cathedral in a hasty pace – something Joe was likely not too happy with. A few Cultists of the Damned turned their heads, but chose not to think anything of them walking there. Tabitha couldn't help but wonder if Arthas had picked his cultists from the slums of the old Undercity he grew up above. They certainly seemed to smell that way. The whole place had the stench of rotting corpses about it, but whereas others would winch away or pinch their noses shut from such a smell, Tabitha liked to train her nose to be alert. She tried to smell something else through it, and did find something she recognised as sewage smell; the most consistent smell to be found in the Undercity, for all she knew.

It was then that she saw what the Highlord had been after: the pulsing heart of the Lich King. Light knows how it's still managing to move around at this point. Whatever the dark ritual was the Cult was trying to perform with it didn't matter to Tabitha. She was completely absorbed by the object floating high in front of her. It was the strangest thing she'd ever seen, and she had to admit she'd seen a lot of strange things throughout the years. She could hear her companions speaking, or at least she thought she heard them. It was very difficult to tell for her, because their voices sounded like they were miles from her ears.

With an empty gaze, she stared at the frozen heart of the Lich King himself. How can he exist without a heart? Surely he must be able to get it back..

It was that thought that made her remember where she was, and what she had heard Monroe said before. The rogue turned on her heel, facing the Lich King himself, to her own surprise. Her shock turned into horror when she realized she'd been caught off-guard, and that she alone was still standing within arm's reach of the most vile person to have ever walked Azeroth, at least in Joe's words. The Lich King payed her little heed, however, being too preoccupied with whoever stood behind her. If Tabitha had found herself able to look away from him, she imagined she would have seen Highlord Fordring behind her, along with Monroe and Joe, most likely. What really got to her was the fact that they chose not to drag her back with them, or stop her when she had moved towards the heart. She really couldn't remember what had happened, and was even more surprised to learn that she apparently expected her companions to think worse of her than they appeared to have by leaving her near the artifact and the Lich King.

She redirected her eyes at the heart. Trying to understand what it was about it that made her loose herself. A new little voice appeared in her mind, sounding strangely similar to that of a young boy.

'Will you help him?' he asked her. Well, I guess this is it. I've finally gone mad.

'No, please. I'm very real. You have to help him!' the boy shouted with an echoing voice, so loud it sent a chill rolling down Tabitha's spine.

Sure, what have I got to loose? Tabitha thought sarcastically, before coming with the crushing realization that she indeed had nothing to loose. I'm a thief without friends and family, other than Monroe's male parts, who cares what happens?

Without giving the matter another thought, she did the next most foolish thing she could think of other than staying near the Lich King waiting for him to turn her. She jumped to clasp the heart, feeling an unspeakable pain shook through her limbs. Her blood felt frozen instantly, but that only made her grasp onto the artifact more tightly, and made her want to drop it more willingly.

No, no, Tabitha! Don't steal it! Use it! she told herself. This is hardly a burglary job.. As she felt her joints stiffen, she made one last ditch effort to throw it at the Lich King. She had no idea what she was doing, and neither did her company.

"Tabitha! What in the name of the Sunwell!" shouted Monroe. She heard him rushing to her side, and at that point, she realized the heart colided with the Lich King's body. It was like the thing had made her forget everything, including her position. She looked at it, seeing that her arms were more like icicles than anything she could still use. The ice crept up her from her hands to her shoulders in a slow pace, but everything else seemed to move in a slow pace as well. The rogue barely understood what was going on. And yet she was certain that this would mean the end, and she did what she hadn't done in years. She started to pray to the Light, hoping against all hope that she wouldn't turn undead. It was all she could do besides hoping that somehow, the Cult's ritual had turned the heart into an effective weapon. She couldn't think of it freezing Arthas like it was rapidly freezing her, but it ought to do something.

And she was right. That something it did was getting absorbed into his body. He instantly shrunk to what Tabitha could assume was his original height, but in that moment Monroe collided with her. She would have slapped him silly for it, had she not been in the process of freezing to death. The instant it had taken her to grab the heart and hit the Lich King with it felt like an eternity, and it was still going on. Tabitha was almost certain she could hear Joe right behind her, but she couldn't take her eyes off of her own arms. They still seemed to be in the process of turning to ice, and she had no idea how to stop it. The strangest thing yet was that she would not panic about the whole ordeal. True, it took a lot to get her to panic, but she had thought that dying would be a time in which she could not simply stay calm. Or was it because she was quite literally staying cool? Tabitha couldn't tell, for she was falling face-first to the floor without any means to stop herself. If my arms hit the ground in this state, surely they will scatter.. was the last thing she could remember thinking before her world went black. That, and hearing a whisper from an unknown source, telling her, "I'm doomed."

Apologies to those who didn't agree with the slightly-changed scenario I created. It was how I remembered it initially, and thus became my vision for this preface.
Oh, and I'm also sorry if the end feels a bit.. weird. It's thundering outside my windows and I absolutely hate it when the weather does that.. :(

"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he does not become a monster himself. For when you gaze long into the abyss, the abyss also gazes into you." –Friedrich Nietzsche