Disclaimer: Anything resembling World of Warcraft is not mine. I make nothing from the writing of this story.
Since I finally got some kind of response here's the next part, well, technically two parts in one. I do have more written, I'm just hoping to get some kind of reply. Anyway, let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy. What great fun, removed ALL quotation marks...again. So I'm going through by hand and readding them.
It had been an hour since they had taken Evarial away and Faeryn was worried. Guards had come by multiple times, some carrying unconscious or dead prisoners, others escorting the living. There were moments when he could hear screams and laughter and wondered if his voice would soon be raised to join them. Suddenly there was nothing. All was silent. Faeryn narrowed his eyes, what could have made everything just stop? Not even a whimper from tortured prisoners, no more screams, nothing. The already chilled air of the dungeon suddenly turned freezing. He could see his breath, feel it clinging close, as though it were trying to smoother him. The crack of ice forming along the walls, dripping down into icicles from the ceiling as silence gave way to the sound of ominous footsteps. Faeryn stood in the center of his cell, his eyes locked down the hallway toward the encroaching ice. He could see the dark form of the Lich King moving deliberately toward his cell, drawing it out. Fearyn's hands clenched into fists, this was the man who had taken his sister, this was the man who had killed countless. He refused to show fear, although he wished that whatever the Lich King was going to do that he would hurry up and do it.
"Well, if it isn't Prince Arthas. What can I do for you, your majesty?" His voice was filled with mockery and sarcasm as he spoke, "I would kneel but I just don't think you're in a position high enough to warrant such respect."
The elf wasn't sure how the Lich King managed to get to him as fast as he did but the next moment he found himself slammed against the wall of his cell, his lip cut on his teeth from where he had been backhanded. His head was spinning from the blow but he forced himself up, using the wall for support.
His voice was low and dark, reverberated through him, seemed to touch his very core, "You would do well to remember your place, warrior."
He scoffed, spitting blood at his feet, "What, with you dead at my feet?"
"I believe you shall be our entertainment for the night." He turned without another word.
The cell door slammed shut without being touched. The ice that came with the coming of the Lich King began to slowly depart with him. Fearyn smirked, feeling like he had won, at least for the moment. Once he was sure he was alone again he jerked his gauntlet off, using his fingers to gently feel his wounded lip. His fingers came away with blood; the wound was deeper than he thought. He shook his head, starting to strip off the rest of his armor. Not seeing a use for it in a prison. He sat there, his armor off to the side, leaning back against the wall. It felt like hours before someone came to his cell. The sound of heavy chains banging on his door drew his attention.
"So, no royal treatment this time?" He questioned, getting to his feet, moving toward the door.
There were three guards standing outside the door with the death knight who had initially brought him in standing behind them. One of the guards held a set of heavy shackles in hand. Faeryn took a step back, holding both hands out before him, motioning for them to come and get him. The death knight nodded to the minions before him, sliding open the door.
"Well, get to it, chain him up and be quick about it."
The three of them moved inside, attempting to flank him. Faeryn smirked, looking forward to beating on something, getting out his frustrations. The one with the chains moved in front of him, the other two moving to either side. Easily he dodged out of the way as one lunged, slamming the one on his right into the other. The one with the chains moved forward, intent on his task. Easily he moved out of the way, grabbing the chains and wrapping them around its throat. Twisting until he heard it's neck snap.
"Is that all you've got?" He questioned, taking a relaxed stance.
The death knight stepped inside, "Apparently you want to do this the hard way." He paused, "You know, I heard some delicious screams. Perhaps they were your sister?" He smirked, letting his words sink in, "You know, Prince Taldaram is to be there tonight, perhaps he'll even have her with him. You'll get to see her again if you go quietly."
He shook his head, twirling the shackles as a makeshift weapon, "I think I'll just fight my way free, rescue my sister, and we'll be gone. Yes, I think I like that idea better."
The death knight moved forward, eyeing his opponent. Faeryn was doing the same, sliding across the floor, working to circle him. With a swift movement Faeryn lashed out, swinging the shackles to try to catch him off guard. The death knight grabbed the chains, pulling the warrior close, pressing his hand against his chest. He gasped softly as a shiver ran through him. He felt suddenly sick, dizzy. A low groan escaped his lips as he reached for the wall, falling to his knees.
"W-What did you do?" He grabbed his head, trying to get himself back under control.
"Made it easier to get you where you need to be." He moved forward, grabbing the shackles from the floor.
Every movement made his head spin. Each time he tried to move away from the encroaching cold of the chains he came close to collapsing. The death knight chuckled softly, latching his bonds into place. One around his neck, one around each wrist, chains leading between each one. Without regard to his captive's feeling he pulled Faeryn out of his cell, leaving the minions behind.
"Cheap bastard." Faeryn groaned, the nausea slowly beginning to pass as they moved.
He received no response as he was led down the hall. The moment he was led into the large chamber they would be dining in he wished he hadn't. Evarial was being forced to kneel on the floor beside Taldaram. He had dressed her in some flimsy red getup. The skirt left both of her legs showing, the only fabric fell in front and back, giving her at least some covering. The top was nothing more than a strip of cloth that barely covered her breasts. Her arms were bound behind her, forearm to forearm with black leather straps, forcing her to arch her back. Although her head was bowed he could tell her eyes were red from crying.
The prince smirked darkly at him, catching him looking, "Look who's here Eva darling." He purred, running an icy finger up her spine, "Look who's come to see you."
She jerked her head up, shying away from his touch. The first thing she saw was her brother. Immediately she scrambled to her feet as best she could with her arms bound. Taldaram lashed out, grabbing her and pulling her into his lap.
"Now, is that anyway to greet our guest?" He chuckled softly in her ear, watching the horror spread across Faeryn's face at his sister's plight.
Faeryn growled, jerking forward, his chains jangling before going taut as the death knight yanked him back. Taldaram's hands slid down her sides, over her thighs, forcing them apart so they were on the outside of his legs. The night elf warrior snarled, straining against his bonds. Using all of his strength he managed to pull the death knight forward with him, driving himself to get to the creature molesting his sister. In a flash a black orb shoved him back the moment he was about to wrap his hands around Taldaram's throat. Prince Valanar had gotten to his feet, looking with disdain at the Night Elf, his hand flared out before him, still crackling with dark energy.
Taldaram's fingers trailed down her stomach, "Thank you Valanar, your timing was impeccable."
Faeryn hissed in pain, could still feel the spark of darkness that had pushed him back. The wandering hands of the vampire holding his sister drove him forward. He launched himself up, diving toward Taldaram. One moment he was within reach the next he was surrounded by darkness, pulled back to his death knight captor.
"Let you have a little taste of what we can do and yet you still fight. Haven't you realized yet the futility in your actions?"
Faeryn snarled as he was drug to a chain hanging from the ceiling. Easily he lifted him, hooking the chain to the hook. The warrior snarled, struggling as he was hoisted up so that he was barely touching the ground.
"Faeryn." Evarial whispered, squirming on his lap, trying to close her legs.
Taldaram kept them firmly apart, his icy fingers trailing up her inner thighs, "Faeryn, Faeryn, that's all I ever hear from you." He chuckled softly, leaning in close, his fingers trailing toward her center, "You call out his name so often, is it him you picture fucking you when I'm between your thighs?"
She let out a cry of disdain, struggling against him. Her resistance made Faeryn growl, trying to jerk forward with what little traction he could manage, "You animal!" He growled.
"Vallen, you may begin." For the first time since they had entered the Lich King spoke.
The death knight bowed, "As you wish, my lord."
As Vallen moved to go past the warrior his gauntlet covered fist slammed into his face. A trickle of blood slipped from the corner of his mouth. Faeryn's gaze turned to Evarial, acting as though whatever Vallen was doing wasn't important. The priestess struggled, trying to stop Taldaram's fingers from their teasing dance.
"Be strong." He said softly, catching her gaze.
His eyes grew wide as the swishing sound of leather cutting through air reached his ears before blinding pain tore through his back. His hands clenched as the scourge cut into his back, his body falling forward from the force of it. A snarl escaped his lips but before he could retort the scourge came down again. A cry escaped his lips as Vallen laid into him, bringing the weapon to bear with a talent that could only be gained by experience. He kept his eyes locked on Evarial's face, his body jerking with each swing. Easily Taldaram picked her up, pressing her down on the table. The vampire's gaze locked onto Faeryn as he brushed the fabric of her 'skirt' to the side. With one hand on her bound arms he held her down, with the other he reached down and freed himself.
"Struggle and resist all you like, it will do you no good." His hips thrust forward, driving himself into her.
She let out a low cry, tears streaming down her cheeks. Faeryn's cry of anger and rage echoed through the room only to be drowned out by the Lich King's laugh. Fat drops of blood fell from his wounds, spattered around the room as the scourge struck him. His shouts of anger turned to keens of pain as the weapon turned his back into a bloody mess. He strained against his bonds, his vision starting to blur at the edges. The last thing he saw before the world went dark was Taldaram pulling his limp sister off the table and back into his lap.
Vallen had always been drawn to the heat of battle. The darker aspects of combat. Of course he kept these desires hidden. When his twin had caught him tormenting a squirrel when they were little he had been punished severely. Their father, ever the righteous paladin, had turned the five year old over his knee and given him a beating he had never forgotten. Being forced to follow in his father's footsteps made him bitter. He hated the light and all it stood for. While in training he had been forced out of the order. Instead of facing his father's wrath he fled. Something drew him to the frozen wastes of Northrend. It had been untouched for so long, ever since Prince Arthas had fallen and become the Lich King. The moment he had set foot onto the Lich King's lands he had been greeted by a blood elf in rust colored robes.
"Vallen, we've been expecting you." He gazed at him with glowing eyes, "We've been watching you for quite some time."
The dark haired human eyed him skeptically, "You've been watching me? I wonder if I should be flattered. What should I call you?"
"You may call me Prince Keleseth."
His eyebrows shot up, "Greeted by royalty, I didn't know I warranted such a thing."
The elf laughed softly, "Our king wanted to be sure you received a proper greeting, after all it's so rare to find a mortal with proclivities such as yours." He paused for a moment, "Come, we're wasting time." Without another word he held his left hand up, palm out. A black portal taking form before them, "After you."
Although part of him was screaming for him not to go he couldn't deny that he was curious. He didn't hesitate, moving through the swirling darkness. The citadel loomed before him, larger than the castle in Stormwind. Keleseth laid a hand on his shoulder, making him jump slightly in surprise. He had been so wrapped up in gazing at the citadel that he didn't notice the elf appear behind him. Keleseth moved past him, striding inside the looming structure, expecting Vallen to follow. The human moved after him, admiring the craftsmanship of the halls he passed through. No words passed between them, Keleseth content to watch Vallen's reactions. The pair moved through the halls, Keleseth leading the way to the Lich King's throne. The moment he entered the grand room Vallen was overcome with the feeling of power that the Lich King exuded. He moved forward, almost immediately he dropped to his knees, kneeling before the seated monarch, head bowed low.
Keleseth bowed, "I have brought him as you commanded, my lord. He seemed most eager to meet you."
"As expected." Slowly the Lich King got to his feet, moving toward the kneeling human, "I've seen you, boy, what your father did to you." He paused, circling him, "They didn't appreciate your talents." He was silent for a moment, drawing out the silence, "But I will."
Vallen couldn't find his voice, the Lich King's power weighed heavily through the room. The cold metal of Frostmourne laid heavy on his back, making him gasp in surprise. He didn't move a muscle, remaining kneeling before his future king.
"You shall serve me." He stated, not expecting a reply.
Vallen managed to find his voice, "Yes, I will serve you." He whispered.
"Then rise and feel the power your master has to offer." Keleseth spoke, smirking darkly as he watched.
Slowly he managed to push himself to his feet, standing before the Lich King with his head bowed. He watched as Frostmourne was raised, the tip pressed to his chest, over his heart. A scream of pain erupted from his throat as dark energy coursed through him. His head was thrown back, hands clenched into fists. Ruby drops of blood spilled from his hands where his nails bit into his palms. It took only minutes but to him it felt like an eternity before the blade was lowered and he fell to his knees. His body felt heavy, drained, but the pain was completely gone.
"Rise, death knight, Keleseth will take care of you." He turned, walking back to his throne and sitting down. He could feel the power coursing through him, the raw energy that had transformed him into a servant of the Lich King.
Vallen shook his head, banishing thoughts of the past from his mind as he looked down at his twin, at Valain as they worked to return her heart to her mutilated chest. He crossed his arms over his chest, overseeing the operation. His helmet had been removed, revealing pitch black hair that fell over his shoulders. Glowing blue eyes gazed down at his dead twin.
"Why is it taking so long?" He growled, watching as one of the giests scrambled over to a table to get some sort of implement that looked to him was made to staple flesh together, "Don't you dare mar her too badly." It immediately dropped what it had gotten before bounding away from him. He sneered, moving closer to the undead working on her, "How long does it take to reinstall a heart into a death knight?"
"These things take time if you want them done properly. Could bring her back with a gaping hole in her chest, I don't think she would appreciate such things while not under control where she belongs."
Vallen shook his head, watching as he began to stitch her up, "Such a foolish sister I have." He scoffed, "Who knew I would have to break you twice?" He glanced down to see how the work was coming, "Can't we just get Taldaram's pet priestess to fix her up? Why go through all this work?"
The 'doctor' looked up at him, "No, no, the Lich King wants her to have a permanent reminder of what she did."
He snorted, "Not like she'll remember it when we're done anyway. Wiping this from her memory will help prevent it from ever happening again."
"Perhaps when you have fixed her the Lich King will allow her to be fully repaired." Once the undead was finished he stepped back, brushing skeletal hands together, "She'll wake up soon."
Vallen leaned against a wall, watching and waiting. A low groan escaped Valain's lips, her eyes fluttered open. He couldn't help but laugh as he watched the confusion and horror on Valain's face as she slowly regain consciousness.
Slowly she looked down, her eyes wide, "I'm dead, I'm supposed to be dead." She let out a scream, her stitched up chest a testament to her memory of death.
Her brother scoffed, "You were dead before your heart was torn from your chest." He pushed off the wall, moving toward her, "You should have known better than to attempt to off yourself. We've put too much time and training into you to just let you stay dead."
Her body shook as she attempted to get a hold of herself, "And you should know that I just won't roll over and let myself be the Lich King's pawn."
He chuckled, "Oh, I think you and dear Marcus will make excellent pawns for our king." He motioned toward a block of ice.
What little composure she had managed to gain was immediately lost. Marcus was sealed within the block, awaiting whatever fate they had in mind for him, "Light preserve us." She stumbled to her feet, moving toward her husband's icy tomb.
Vallen growled, "The Light has no place here and you know it." He watched as she clawed at the ice, wanting to free him. He scoffed, "You remind me of our father, all sentimental, but with a vicious streak, not that you ever got to see that. You're not some idiot paladin anymore, Valain, you're a death knight." He shook his head, "You took so well to it in the beginning to."
She growled at him, "Only because I was under the Lich King's control." She slammed her fist against the ice.
He shook his head, "Don't worry sister, you'll see the true way of things soon enough." He smirked, "As will Marcus, just think, you'll be together again soon enough."