Type: Romance/Action/Adventure
Rating: PG-13 for the first chapter, R later
Disclaimer: Nothing mine. World. Characters. Idea. Nothing.
This fic is dedicated to my good friend, Piccard, Divinity Marine. Be happy!... The story may not be, but I assure you, a typical 'happy end' is planned. And more than one chapter too. If I manage to stretch it enough. Sigh.
Each part of each chapter has a part of lyrics that describes it. I like songfics. So let's try this new idea. 3
I used some plot parts from WoW. Forgive me for spoilers. And for using so much elvish. I just LOVE and ADORE it.
The field's been left in sorrow
The father and the son, they're gone
The sune shines bright
And anger rises
Lorn and lonely, torn apart
("Battlefield", Blind Guardian)
'To arms!!!'
Arthas turned around to the window instantly. Getting outside, he saw his undead warriors rushing to an iced clearing between the Icecrown frozen hills. The light reflecting from them quickly turned bloody red and the voices echoing became yells of agony before he even noticed.
'Stop them!!' he heard Kel'Thuzad's voice. 'For king Arthas!!!'
The death knight shook his head to regain control of himself. Grabbing the Frostmourne that rested beside him, he rushed down the black stone staircase. Skipping two at a time, he landed at its base abd headed towards the front gate, his upper body nearly horizontally to the floor. He paused with one leg in the air as he went past n acolyte.
'What's happening?!' he yelled.
The servant stood still for a moment. 'Humans, my king!' he managed to say. 'Bearing the banner of Azeroth!'
'Azeroth?!'
'And there are paladins!' the acolyte added quickly. 'Survivours of Lordaeron.'
Arthas cursed loudly and ran forth, stggering once in a while of mere lack of balance.
As he reache the icy land, he paused in shock.
The Azeroth army was driving his own troops back, dangerously enclosing to the Black Citadel. Piles of both his warriors' and enemies' corpses laid everywhere, the stench of blood and death filling the air. The death knight stood stunned, only watching the battle nearning him.
A familiar voice brought him back to the ground.
Holding the Froustmourne in both hands before him, Arthas ran forward, through the masses of fightining troops. Once in a while he pushed a human away or simply sliced him, clearing his way forth. Finally, after a time that seemed longer than it should, he reached a paladin surrounded by a group of armed footmen. Ghouls emerged from behind him and attacked them at an instant.
'Samuel!!' the king called.
The Silver Hand paladin turned to him, his eyebrows narrowed and lips curved in a furious sneer. Arthas could almost see the lightning between them.
'It's you...' the human hissed. 'Betrayer...'
The death knight smirked. 'I'd rather save that title for someone else.' he mocked. He raised his sword and added, seriously this time: 'Leave, Samuel, and I'll make sure my troops won't chase you this time.'
The enormous hammer swung just an inch before his face and smashed the icy ground at his feet. 'Over my dead body!' the human barked.
'That can be arranged.'
Arthas raised his sword and swung it at the paladin. The blow was blocked, but the pressure at the warhammer made Samuel lose balance. He fell backwards, but turned to his side in time to evade another slice. Unfortunately for him, the death knight was swoft, fast and his weapon much lighter than the human's.
The undead king placed the Frostmourne at his opponents throat, his lips curled in a sneer. 'I gave you your chance, Samuel.' he said grimly. 'You were a noble man once.' to the paladin's surprise, there was no sign of mockery nor irony in those words. Arthas' face was firm. 'Let's hope your peopne remember you as such.'
The human warrior growled. In an act of desperate stupidity that comes in times of grave threat, he swung his hammer an inch above the ground. Its weight pulled him away from the raitor, but the Frostmourne has been coloured red with his blood nonetheless. He coughed, supporting himself with one arm. Before his liefeless body collapsed, he managed to throw the weapon at the nearest undead.
Kel'Thuzad yelled as his bones were crushed.
Arthas shouted and rushed forward to the fallen lich. 'Kel'Thuzad!' he caled. 'Kel!!'
There was no response.
'Anub'arak!!!'
The Nerubian king emerged from amidst the fighting warriors, his carapace scratched and stained in many places. He froze as he's seen Ner'zhul's champion panting over a shattered skeleton.
Arthas grabbed the broken bones, taking them all into his arms. He carefully stood up, as if afraid he'd damage the lich even more.
'Withdraw all the troops!' the king ordered, his voice deep and desperate. 'Get to the ships!'
'But...' Anub'arak began 'where are we going, death knight?'
'Anywhere!' Arthas rushed towards the coast. 'Anywhere where someone can help!'
Mirror, mirror on the wall
True hope lies beyond the coast
You're a damn kind, can't you see
That the wind's will change?
("Mirror Mirror", Blind Guardian)
The moon was high up when they reached open sea. Arthas leaned over one board, his eyes fixed upon the dark water below, and sighed deeply. A necromancer approached him carefully and bowed. The king didn't move.
'Your pardon, my lord,' the mage began 'but what is wrong?'
'Everything.' the death knight spat. 'Eerything is wrong! Kel'Thuzad is dead! We had to leave the Frozen Throne at mercy of humans! And where are we supposed to go...?'
His servant was silent, not being able to answer that question. The clouds on the night sky hid the moon. Arthas gazed up, the last rays fading on his pale face. He looked as sad as never before, the necromancer thought.
'My lord...' he began silently. 'With your new powers, won't it be possible to revive Kel'Thuzad, as it happened before?'
The knight sighed deeply, but remained silent for a very long moment. 'I fear not.' he said finally in a low whisper. 'Not unless his soul is near. And it's not.' he added, clenching his teeth.
The mage lowered his head. 'So he...'
The king turned around and gazed at his servant. The moonlight appeared from behind the moving clouds, and it lit both of their faces. The necromancer seemed defeated, while Arthas' face a mask of determination.
'We're to establish a settlement at the soithern coast of Kalimdor.' he rodered firmly. 'Once a camp is ready, I'll take kel'Thuzad to someone who should be able to help.' he added quietly.
The dark mage remained silent.
'I don't think they will trust me.' Arthas went on. 'They'll probably kill me when they see me. But who knows? I'll try. I prefer to die trying than to sit here and know Kel'Thuzad is lost forever.'
The night suddenly changed. The wind blew cold, but the air itself was warm and somewhat comforting. All the clouds moved away, revealing millions of twinling stars above them.
'Who would they be, my king?' the necromancer asked.
The death knight sighed. 'He, to be exact.' he paused. 'Malfurion Stormrage.'
It is too late to go in peace, I wonder how
How these things did start, anyway
Maybe too late to find a way when the
Trail of grief is marked by memories
("I Believe", Hammerfall)
The southern coast of Kalimdor was barren and forlorn. Nothing but red sand, naked stones, cliffs and an occassional lonely cactus. The undead quickly disembarked and started to settle upon the shore. Only their king was standing facing the ocean, his face fixed upon the sky. Dawn was breaking; first rays lit the sand.
The wagon with Kel'Thuzad's remainings stopped right behind him.
'What shall we do with the lich, my king?' an acolyte asked, bowing.
'Leave him where he is.' Arthas ordered. 'Guard them good.'
'Yes, my king.'
The death knight sighed deeply and shook his head. There was a long way ahead of him... he needed to get past the Un'Goro Crater, through the Thousand Needles, Mulgore, possibly Durotar and into Ashenvale. Millions of beasts and enemies can't wait to personally cut his throat or rip him apart...
But he shall go. He hasn't felt like this after he left Lordaeron to aid Ner'zhul. He hasn't felt like this ever before, not even when his father took him to Anduin Lothar's memorial when he was a boy. He remembered how much it hurt... but not as much as this. He witnessed his best friend, most loyal servant and wisest advisor die by human hand.
Nothin ever left such a void somewhere in his chest...
Arthas turned around to the zombie that gathered around the wagon.
'Build me a cart that will look like a human one.' he ordered. 'I will go under cover soon. Alone.'
Holy force of wisdom spread through all the air
I shall breathe you forever to end this epic quest
My way will be hard but I will do all
To reach the valleys where true heroes ride
Beyond the ivory gates
("Beyond the Gates of Infinity", Rhapsody)
'Ishnu-dal-dieb, traveller.'
The caped man bowed politely. The cart creeked.
'What is it you seek in Darnassus?' the Sentinel asked, her voice soft and calming.
The man coughed. When he spoke, his voice was low and silent: 'I need aid of Shan'do Stormrage.' he explained. 'As fast as possible.'
The elf thought for a moment, then nodded slowly. She waved her hand towards the city, behind the huge purple and violet gate she was guarding. The man also nodded and took a few steps. The cart creeked loudly as he pulled it.
'Go south-west from here.' the Sentinel added. 'To the temple and talk to pristess Tyrande.'
The wanderer walked slowly, keeping his head down. The brown hood hid his whole face. Once in a while an elf or - to his suprise - a dwarf sent him a curious and suspicious gaze, but he was free to go nevertheless. He walked on the marble ways, nodding politely as the Sentinels greeted him. Someone even tried to sell him something, but he refused and walked forth a bit faster.
Soon he reached the temple. The main Temple of the Moon in whole Kalimdor, in the capitol Darnassus. It took him a lot of effort and time to find out where the city actually lies, but finally he managed to get there. Now he was a step away from his goal...
He eneterd the magnificent marble building. He gazed with awe at the huge statue in center of it, probably Elune and walked up, to the second level. He sighed, looking back at the entrance, where a Sentinel insisted to keep his cart.
He heard two voices talking. One was female, beautiful, but sharp; the other one was even sharper, definately male and it lacked the beauty the first had. The newcomer stopped as he was the two elves. They ignored him, arguing eagerly.
'Ash nu'ratha.' the woman said, her eyebrows narrowed. 'A'falla no'tore renna. Llu'manna!'
The man snorted, apparently irritated. 'Irume akara.' he rais, shaking his head. 'Tor nara, eleme nar'shu.'
'Tho'da'ra! Tor Elune, Furion el'rante iru'man kanne...'
The visitor held his breath despite himself. He didn't understand a bit, but heard the name well. The druid here, talking to the woman was not Stormrage. And he was expecting to see him here. Maybe they'll tell him where he is.
'Ru'nel, Tyrande, shuma nah. Uresh manth. Dar Malfurion ira tenath.'
So this is Tyrande, the caped man thought, surveying the elf's think white robes and delivate face. Her figure seemed almost perfect and her beauty was astonishing.
She shook her head, her eyes closed. 'Narthe'lu, Fandral. Thar nar'ne ilethe remash. Bentai del Elune.' she turned around.
And noticed the visitor.
'Ishnu-alah.' he said, bowing. This was one of the very few things he was able to say in Thalassian, which never was his strong point, and - fortunately for him - it was the same in Darnassian.
'Ishnu-dal-dieb.' Tyrande replied. 'Is there anyrhing we can do for you?'
Her guest paused, deep in thought. He sighed. 'I seek aid of Shan'do Stormrage. I was certain I could find him here, my lady.'
The druid behind Tyrande also sighed, but it was a silent, defeated sigh. The priestess' eyes fell half-closed as she sent a sad gaze to the caped man. Inwardly he gulped.
'You shall not find him in Darnassus.' the woman said. 'Nor anywhere else. He's been missing for four years now.'
The visitor's jaw fell open. He couldn't force himself to say anything. Tyrande gestured towards the man behind her.
'This is Fandral Staghelm.' she introduced. 'Arch-druid who's taken Malfurion's place.'
The man shiverred, definately despite himself. The druid sent him a sharp gaze, his lips curled down in an irritated sneer. You're wasting our time, it seemed to say. Get out of my sight!
Only the priestess looked worried. 'What-?'
'Milady,' the man replied, kneeling, his voice growing desperate. 'I need aid, but I fear only Shan'do Stormrage might be able to help...'
The woman reached out with her hand, but he gently grabbed it and pushed it away, shaking his head. He then closed his eyes and took off his hood. Falling to his back, it revealed silvery hair and a place, ashen face.
Fandral looked shocked. 'Undead...?'
The Sentinels from around the temple ran towards them. The echo in the huge room repeated the accursed words a few more times before it hung in the air heavily.
The kneeling man swallowed. 'I, great druid, am' he paused 'King Arthas Menethil...'
Fandral's jaw fell open and his eyes went wide. The Sentinels around them drew their glaives.
Arthas closed his eyes.
Tyrande raised her hand. 'Lower your weapons!'
The undead blinked in shock, and so did the arch-druid. 'Tyrande, you can't just...!'
'I shall do what I find right, Fandral. You are in no position to judge me!'
'He's the king of undead!' the man almost yelled. 'How can this be right!'
The priestess averted her gaze from him. 'He came here all the way from Northrend. He reached Darnassus all alone, risking very much. I feel he's telling the truth.'
Arthas smiled gently. Tyrande..., he thought. Thank you...
'You feel it?!' the druid roared. 'Last time we trusted your feelings you freed the Betrayer!'
'Illidan was considered a great hero once!' Tyrande repeated the words she said to her beloved once. 'I believe he has become one again. He killed demons in Outland and closed their portals. He gave hope to the Quel'dore. Hedestroyed the Skull of Gul'dan, saving our forests.' she paused. 'I wasn't wrong, Fandral.' she said shortly. 'And I won't be this time.'
Arthas' smile grew wider as she spoke. She turned to him, dismissing the Sentinels with a wave of her hand. Reluctantly, the warrior's returned to their posts, ready to strike if need comes. The king slowly stood up.
'What is your problem, Arthas?' yrande asked gently.
The death knight hesitated. How was he supposed to explain this? 'I was hoping that Shan'do Stormrage might be able to help my friend... a lich...'
'What's wong with him?'
Arthas took a deep breath. 'He's dead.'
'That's nothing special.' the druid commented in a mocking tone.
'It's not how you think!' the undead shouted, but quixkly composed himself. He turned his head away, somewhat embarassed and added calmly: 'He's dead. Gone. All that's left are his broken bones.'
'And you were hoping that Furion would be able to revive him?'
Arthas nodded. 'I only need someone to summon his spirit... I will give him his life back once it's here.'
The priestess sent Fandral a cold, drilling gaze and nodded slowly. 'Help us seek Furion out.' she announced. 'If you help him, he won't hesitate to return the favour.'
'Tyrande!!!' the druid shouted. She closed her eyes and remained calm. 'What do you think you're doing?!'
'Saving my beloved.' she replied sharply, placing a hand on the king's shoulder. 'Come."
Now I've returned
From a place far beyond
My mission is set
Let it be done!
("Hero's Return", Hammerfall)
'Furion!' she patted him gently at the cheek. 'Furion, wake up!'
The druid moaned loudly and for a short moment all his face muscles strained. He slowly opened his eyes, regaining his senses one by one. Finally, the fog before his eyes faded. 'Tyrande...?'
The priestess smiled widely with great relief and helped him sit up. Arthas also smiled gently, remaining a bit in the back, in the shadows. Shan'do was swooning a little, holding his head. Tyrande was talking to him in their native language, apparently explaining the latest events. Her face was bright, lips curled in a smile; joy flooded her. He was alive, and back.
Furion blinked in surprise and sent the death knight a curious and at the same time clueless gaze. The king kneeled politely; better not have enemies in thouse you ask for aid. The druid surveyed his slowly, narrowing his eyebrows.
'Yes, Shan'do.' the death knigh confirmed. 'I am Arthas.'
'I don't quite understand...' the arch-druid confessed. 'But I am grateful to you, Arthas, whatever the reason.' he stood up with slight difficulty. Tyrande supported him, smiling as she cuddled in his embrace gently.
The undead king felt a stab of pain at the heart.
'I am in your debt.' Furion added.
The death knight smiled gently, his eyes half closed in a somewhat dreaming state. 'Yes... there is something I need...'
The Child will be born again
The siren carried him to me
First of them true loves
Singing on the shoulders
Of an angel
Without care for love in loss
("Ghost Love Score", Nightwish)
Forests around Darnassus and the city all of a sudden felt a lot warmer and welcoming than before. Arthas was accompanied by two great night elven heroes, so no one even bothered. They were all cheering and falling to their knees, sending thankful prayers to their goddess as they saw Malfurion Stormrage again. Arthas could swear he's seen a few druids cry when they gave him a welcoming bear - sometimes almost literally - hug. He understood nothing of what they said, but they all were definately glad to see him alive.
He closed his eyes. It hurt. It really did.
As Furion promised, the cart with Kel'Thuzad's remainings was taken to the Temple of the Moon right away. By Elune's marvelous statue he was to be reborn...
Shan'do coughed. 'Arthas...'
The king blinked, as if awakening from a trance. 'Yes?'
'I shall do what I can... but he needs something to ome back to.'
'Meaning?'
'A body.' the druid paused. 'Bone's do not qualify. Nature allows only complete creastures to exist, and I can never oppose the Great Mother.' he explained.
Arthas nodded, kneeling before the skeleton. His greatest friend, most loyal servant and reasonable advisor...
And his... it was very hard to admit it even to himself, but now, right by what's left of Kel'Thuzad, right when a new light of hope appeared... now he understood. On the marble floor laid the bones of not only his friend...
But also his ever greatest love.
Trying hard not to blush, Arthas places his hands on the bones and started to chant. The words weren't his own; it was Eredar, the language of demons that he never learned. This power and the ability to let his sub-consiousness use it was what was left of Ner'zhul within him. The Lich King wanted release, salvation in death... by giving Arthas his soul back, he got what he desired.
The death knight withdrew, breathing deeply. Furion knelt where he was a moment ago. Words in his native, beautiful language echoed in the temple.
After a moment Arthas' gaze met shiny brown eyes of Kel'Thuzad.