A/N: It's been a goal of mine for a while now to revise/update this fic and, you know, ACTUALLY POST AN ENDING. Oh boy. This first chapter was a bit of a mess so hopefully this is an improvement.


Jaina gripped her staff, sending the full force of her concentration into the next spell. "I'm sorry," she cried, hurling the fireball and watching it land squarely on target. The Lich King stumbled backwards, his hand clutching his chest where the metal was singed.

"This…isn't over…" he rasped. Jaina steeled herself, maintaining a safe distance. She wanted to run, but she couldn't bring herself to. Her eyes were transfixed, her heart in her throat as the Lich King staggered sideways before regaining his balance and lunging towards her.

A fresh incantation was already on her lips. "Stay back!" she ordered, her voice shaking only slightly. It would be so easy to finish him off. A mercy kill, really. Her fingers were itching to cast the spell and yet a weaker part of her resisted.

"Ner'Zul…will be back," the Lich King hissed. He grasped for her and missed, falling to his knees with a heavy thud. Heaving breaths shook his body as he struggled to remain upright. To Jaina's surprise, he mustered enough strength to remove his helm before collapsing fully on his back.

The wind picked up, whipping wet strands of hair against her face. They were at the top of the citadel, completely exposed to the elements. Jaina barely noticed as she watched the rhythmic rise and fall of the Lich King's chest. Up and down. Up and down. Until finally, he was still.

Get out of here! a voice in her head screamed. Now! Before it's too late! She couldn't move. There were roots holding her in place, invisible tendrils that began at her ankles and snaked their way around her heart. Jaina crouched down, ignoring the shouts of protest from her exhausted limbs, and leaned over his body. Two eyes stared back at her, not the empty blue sockets of the Lich King but familiar sea-green ones.

"Arthas?"

"Jaina.." he replied weakly. "Oh Light, how I've missed you."

Jaina blinked back tears. Either she was dreaming or dead, floating in netherspace. She needed something solid to ground her and she found his arm, bony and ice-cold, gripping it fearlessly.

Arthas winced in pain. She could tell by the way his head lolled to the side that he was floating in and out of consciousness. Every so often his eyes trailed back to meet hers but mostly they stared straight ahead, up at the endless sky.

Once when he was motionless for more than a few seconds, Jaina's breath hitched. Was he dead? Should she help him? Without thinking, she nudged her fingers under his collar and rested them on his throat, feeling for a pulse. Did death knights even have one? The steady thrum of his heart assured her that yes, Arthas was by some measure alive.

Suddenly there were voices. A chorus of eager shouts, drifting up from the platform below.

"Over here!" a man's voice said.

"Careful!" Another chimed in. "It might be a trap!"

"It's gotta be up here." A third voice, this one female. "We've got the bastard now!"

Jaina froze, straining her ears to identify the speakers. The two men were undoubtedly human. The third voice reminded Jaina of the persistent squeak in her favorite armchair. It had to belong to a gnome. She concluded that the party was small and unassociated with the Kirin Tor, which was far too magnanimous to arrive with anything less than a full blown army.

A few feet away, the teleportation pad hummed softly. Jaina studied it, looking for signs that it was in use, but there were no bright lights, no telltale whoosh. She had time, but for what exactly? She looked back at back Arthas, resting in a state of near death, and realized she had unconsciously shifted her weight so that his head rested in her lap. His closeness to her was both exhilarating and terrifying. Jaina took her hand and ran it along the bridge of his nose, across cheekbones that looked as if they'd been carved from stone.

"What should I do?" she wondered aloud. She'd come here for answers but ended up feeling even more confused. If only Arthas hadn't spoken her name. His voice had awoken something inside of her, a fragile longing buried deep within her chest.

This was crazy, and she knew it. But the words left her lips before she could second guess herself. "I'm going to save you," she whispered to Arthas. "But you're going to have to help me."

Gathering up her robe, Jaina stood, keeping one eye on the teleport. They needed to leave right away, of course, but the logistics of moving him were complicated. Arthas still wore his armor, and while she looked for a strap or laces she could untie, the black metal clung to him like a second skin. Magic was the answer, then. She raised her hand, pointed her palm towards his prone body and summoned a shaft of light. It hit him just above the navel with a sharp crack, like the sound of a bone sliding into place. At first she wasn't sure it had worked but then a line appeared on his chest, dividing his breastplate neatly into two halves. The lines spread like veins and soon the entire gleaming harness was crisscrossed with tiny rivers of light, weak points that were easily exploited with magic.

Jaina stood back, admiring her work. It wouldn't be long now. She only hoped the Lich King had the decency to wear something underneath his armor. Jaina blushed slightly when she considered the alternative.

The loosened plates of metal fell away from his body, one by one. Jaina was reminded of a butterfly, emerging from an enormous, inky black cocoon. "Arthas," she whispered, watching in awe as patches of pink skin appeared on his neck and hands. She decided he already looked more alive, more human.

Her magic was almost expended when she heard it: the metallic ping of the teleportation pad. She quickly cast her own portal spell, just as two humans and a gnome appeared on the platform.

"Hey! Stay where you are!" The gnome drew her sword and rushed at Arthas, but Jaina blocked her with an ice shield.

"Jaina? Jaina Proudmoore?" The gnome's eyes grew wide. Jaina ignored her, grabbed Arthas' cold hand with her warm one and pulled them both into the portal.

And then, blissfully, there was nothing.