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Epiphanies

"Jaina!" Arthas shouted, as he strode purposefully towards the astonished mage. After years of separation, devastated by loneliness and the heavy burden of unrelenting remorse, Jaina Proudmoore was immobilized by the sight of him. As he approached, she gasped, shocked by how changed he was. She stared at his ominous, skull-adorned armor, his snowy mane, and icy, smoldering eyes. Yet, one thing remained the same, despite all—as if a ghost from the past—and that was his charming, devilish smile.

Oh, gods, that smile...it had always been her downfall...but then, every part of him had been her weakness...

He stripped off his gauntlets, carelessly tossing them aside.

"Arthas...?" Jaina cried uncertainly, "Is it really...you...? Wha..." She was interrupted as her long-lost, once-betrothed quickly swept her into his arms, bending her over backwards and swooping down for a lingering, breathless kiss. "Ack!" she squawked in alarm, writhing futilely in his powerful embrace.

Cradling her nape in one cool, but gentle hand, and murmuring soft endearments, Arthas pressed longing, fervent kisses down her arching neck. Tilting his head, he beamed at the straining abundance of her cleavage, "Oh, how I have missed you...!" he crooned to the mounds of soft white flesh, just before he dived in, burying his face in her bountiful bosom.

Jaina shrieked...gods, his lips were cold!

"Release me!" she wheezed, "Arthas, please! What on Azeroth has gotten into you?"

Arthas chuckled, nuzzling her with rapturous abandon, "Little tease..." he softly accused, "You excite me with your sweet pretense of scorn..." He kissed his way to her ear, where he whispered, "Soon it will be what has gotten into you, adorable one...and that will be...me!" Jaina pushed at him, without results, banging her fists on his breastplate. "So eager..." Arthas purred ecstatically, dismissing her frantic struggles, "I am yours..." he breathed; and it was a husky, sensuous promise. "Paradise awaits us, my precious...yes, yes...yes..." Each panted word was punctuated with ardent kisses.

These caresses were waxing entirely familiar to the stunned and accosted mage as all the sweet, yet agonizing memories of their shared past came flooding back to make a shambles of her already wavering resistance.

It was then that a loud and disapproving voice growled indignantly, "Ye gods! Get a room!"

Jaina, whose hands had wound their way into Arthas' long, eerily-beautiful hair, craned her neck, peering around a skull-shaped pauldron towards the speaker. "Lord Uther!" the mage exclaimed, staring in amazement at the fabled paladin of the Light, "I thought you were dead!"

Jaina's words suddenly collapsed into shrill giggles, as Arthas' lips immediately assailed the side of her neck, sending a flurry of incredibly delicious shivers down her spine. His fingertips followed in a leisurely caress that only heightened this sensation, as she leaned willingly into his tantalizing touch. Gazing up at him, she watching in awe as the healthy glow of returning life suffused his pale, handsome features. She gasped, reaching desperately for him, and Arthas smiled, kissing her temple, her cheek, her lips, as he gathered her into his arms again.

Uther huffed, annoyed by their rather disrespectful inattention, "I was dead..." he grumbled in reply, frowning deeply over what he deemed an exhibition of outrageously inappropriate behavior. "Comfortably so, in fact..." he added, "I was basking in the blessed Light...but then, some vile, unholy power chose to drag me back to life for this brief, nonsensical and humiliating role...!" he scowled, "As if Tirion Fordring would not have sufficed...!"

"I rather doubt Tirion would handle this...situation as well as you, Uther," the mage said in a quavering voice; she was a bit too over-stimulated for truly coherent speech. "He really has his heart set on murdering...well, you know who..." Jaina rolled her eyes meaningfully at Arthas who was much too busy indulgently kissing her clavicle and gently kneading her shoulder blades to notice.

"Oh? Well, Fordring can just get over himself..." Uther muttered irritably, pondering, with a sort of stern fondness, the young man who had once been his most gifted pupil. He snorted, slapping at the wanton, fallen prince with his gauntlet. "Stop that this instant!" he commanded, "Have you lost your mind, Arthas?"

"Actually..."Jaina sputtered between kisses, "his soul...and yes, probably his mind, as well..."

"Even if so," Uther gravely instructed, "that is still no excuse for such...shameless carnality..."

Arthas chortled wickedly, pausing just long enough to give the great paladin a crafty, unrepentant wink; he most certainly did not desist, and Jaina had no intentions of discouraging him in any way whatsoever. It had not escaped the mage that his hands were now much warmer than they had been initially—as were those rousing, hungry kisses that she had missed so very much. Restless and attentive, Arthas snuggled the pretty mage closer still.

"I ache for you..." he murmured in her ear, kissing it tenderly.

"Oh, Arthas, oh, beloved..." Jaina moaned, "It has been so long..."

"Ah, but it is still long, my dangerous little goddess of fire..." he cooed, his lips marching passionately across her quivering skin, "Long and chubby, as I know you like it...and now, burgeoning again with my love for you! Throbbingly so..." Jaina chirped with delight; yes, that was becoming quite obvious... "I am overwhelmed by your soft, sweet self..." Arthas sighed, his eyes aglow—now more green, than ghostly blue. Back into her decolletage he burrowed. Jaina squealed her bliss, a frenzy of lustful trills.

"You two are making a disgraceful spectacle of yourselves!" Uther hissed, pink and flustered with aggravation; he was not accustomed to being so handily ignored. "Will you please get a grip!"

Arthas snickered, scooping Jaina's round buttocks into both his hands, giving the firm, heated flesh an amorous, but gentle massage. She shivered in joyful response, clinging to him, winding both her arms around his neck; and yielding eagerly to his insistent kisses, she plunged her hands into his tangled hair that was now streaked with palest gold.

"That is not what I meant!" Uther bellowed. He gazed heavenward, "Light give me strength," he implored, "for this onerous test of my faith!"

"But Lord Uther..." Jaina gasped, as Arthas nibbled her throat and slipped a caressing hand beneath her skirt, "Don't you see? This is wonderful! The Lich King has lost his terrible hold! Arthas has returned to us!" She twittered gleefully, "And this is definitely Arthas...I assure you..."

Uther looked mortified, "I do not wish to know the details supporting your certainty, Lady Jaina...oh, this is most unseemly..."

Arthas murmured in her ear and Jaina giggled wildly, nodding. Uther could not believe it—she was opening a portal with one hand, while the other journeyed south; a suspicious rustling commenced underneath Arthas' loincloth. Uther covered his eyes, aghast.

"Oh, yes..." Arthas panted, "Take me, enthrall me...oh, discipline me, my naughty sorceress...I have been very bad..." Shortly, the intertwined pair staggered through the shimmering portal and blinked out of sight.

Uther heaved a mighty sigh, leaning heavily upon the shaft of his holy hammer, "What has become of humble, mindless devotion to the glorious Lore?" he muttered wonderingly, shaking his head.

The sound of soft, warm laughter, mingled with murmured professions of undying love floated to the heroic paladin's unprepared ears. He glanced around, stunned to see Tyrande Whisperwind nestled arm in arm with an amber-eyed Illidan Stormrage. Aware of only each other, they strolled slowly by.

No horns, no hooves, no wings. No Emerald Dreamer, either.

"It is the End Days..." Uther mourned. He cast his eyes to the heavens; and lifting a clenched fist, he cried out in all his righteous fervor, "May the Light damn these infernal Alternative Universes!"

End

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