*huffs, wiping sweat of her forhead* I couldn't bring myself to correct this piece for the life of me Y_Y Nevertheless, it's finally here and I hope you are all going to enjoy it and leave some nice reviews and such...

Also there is a little more detailed fluff at the end of the chapter, so if you don't like the stuff, just skip to the last three paragraphs and you'll be just fine :) For the rest of you, I hope you're gonna like it, cause this is my first hetero lemon and I'm afraid I couldn't visualize it quite as clearly as I would wish to :D

Have fun! And review! :)

Lost and Found

„You... stupid... little... human!" surprisingly heavy blows fell on every bit of Arthas' no-longer-armoured body with each word, forced through gritted teeth and it startled him so, that he did not have a chance to shield himself with his arms properly. „ What have you done? Do you enjoy playing a hero? Have I tought you nothing? I have never seen such idiocy in-" another blow to the head. „-my-" one more to the stomach. „-life!" the last swing of her small fist hit Arthas' back with such force, it knocked the breath out of him. And then it stopped as suddenly as it had started and he looked up.

Keri'el stood there, infront of him, panting, fists still clenched, heavy breaths coming out of her mouth in white puffs. Anger and rage dancing in her eyes.

The ridiculousness of the sight now arising before his eyes would made him chuckle had he been able to. There he was, the Lich King, the most powerful being this world has ever seen, getting scolded like a disobedient child by his old tutor. Little elven girl at that. Unbelievable. What was it all about anyway? Was she angry with him for becoming what he was? For picking up the Lich King's helmet all those years ago, when he realized it was the only way? For wanting more power and thinking he could control it? Did she truly think he was happy with this damned existence? Maybe in the beginning... after merging with Nerz'hul, the shear, raw, immense power bewitched his senses and he could not help to succumb to it like the human prince he was. But now, as the intoxitation had all but evaporated, he realized his will was the only thing keeping the Scourge at bay. The only thing standing between Azeroth and it's total anihilation. And the more he tried to sever the links with what once was Arthas Menethil, to be able to maintain the fragile control over the Lich King within him, the more he became unable to do so.

Another familiar voice rang in his ears. Uther the Lightbringer.

„I dearly hope that there is a special place in hell waiting for you, Arthas!"

And his own reply came like a slap in the face.

„We may never know, Uther. I intend to live forever."

Arthas stared into Keri'el's enraged face, his left eye twitching imperceptibly in anticipation. However the storm seemed to have already passed. He watched as the fury slowly began leaving her body, she relaxed, closed her eyes and regained full control over her emotions once again.

She did not look at him or said anything regarding what had just happened. Instead, the raven-haired elf picked up the Lich King's armour as if it was something recently dead and dumped it outside the door. Without Arthas to give it a form, it was but a pile of enchanted metal.

More out of reflex than anything else, the human prince reached out to take it back, opening his mouth to protest, however she resolutely closed the door infront of his nose. He felt agitated, anxious and somehow lost. He could not understand what was happening. Why was he feeling the urge to obey her every command? Why was he doing so without questions? Why could he hear her whispers echoing in his mind? Now he was beginning to understand what it means to be a warrior of the Scourge, left with no other choice but to listen and do what they were told.

And there was only one explanation for all this. She must have possessed the powers of the Lich King himself. But how could that be? Arthas had so many questions swirling madly in his strangely confused and almost human mind. He wanted to know and explain everything to her, but his body still ached, where she had punched him and the last thing he wished for was more of the beating.

„Well, this is much better, no?" Keri'el clapped her hands as if getting rid of something filthy, her voice steady and calm.

Arthas took a deep breath and now, upon her asking so bluntly, he realized what she meant. After five years of being the Lich King, there were no other voices in his mind, apart from the gentle whisper of her thoughts. No more struggling, no more compromises. But without him preventing the Scourge from running loose...

He attempted to force the door open, however she leaned back against them and refused to move even a bit. He folded his arms on his chest and began pacing across the room. „You do not understand. I need to get that back! Without it..."

Keri'el laughed in amusement.

„Oh, but I do understand more than you think." she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and magic swept around them like a fresh, Eversong breeze, changing the very nature of their frozen surroundings so that when Arthas looked about again, he saw ice melting and freezing again, turning into curtains, cushions appearing out of thin air and high, wooden bookshelves, filled with roles of parchment and old books, covering the walls.

In a matter of seconds the hall had changed into the exact same study she always used for their tutoring, back in the palace of Lordaeron so many lifetimes ago. Even his own black, linen clothes had turned into a dark-blue velvet garment with two crossed silver swords a hammer and a shield with ornate, golden L etched onto his chest – the symbol of Lordaeron.

„Listen to my thoughts and you will see."

And Arthas did as she told him and understood. It was she, who was controling the undead hordes... no, that was not right. She was chaneling her will through his own, helping him to control them, without any contact with the Lich King whatsoever. But how...?

The question only began forming in his mind, when she smiled and responded. „We will get to it. But first, let us start from the beginning." Keri'el rummaged through the curves of her robe, pulling out an ornated silver lockbox.

Arthas looked at it and a very strange noise came out of his half-opened lips. He laughed. More and more, like a madman and then, in an instance the laughter changed into sobs and hot, salty drops began falling down his cheeks and onto the marble flagstones as he dropped to his knees, hair curtaining his marbel face in snow-shite strands. He was crying his heart out like he had never done before in his life. Images of all that had happened since the first time Scourge appeared in his homeland flashing through him mind like some kind of very poorly made horror movie and he was unable to look away or make it stop.

His own soldiers -many of them he knew for years- curling up in agony all around him, just to stand up again, twisted in undeath and raise weapons against those they had once called brothers; Kel'thuzad's choking laughter when his broken body fell under the blow of Arthas' hammer; blood of Terenas Menethil, gushing out of the piercing wound just above his clavicle, where Arthas sank Frostmourne's blade deep into his fathers throat and the face of Jaina Proudmoore -most vivid of all- her large, forget-me-not-blue eyes swelled with tears, dropping down her cheeks as she refused to accompany him to Northrend and he accused her mercilessly of breaking her promise never to deny him. He was overwhelmed by remorse, guilt, shame and pity so strong, it felt like he was falling apart. What had he done?

A gentle hand touched his chin and lifted his head. Keri'el was looking at him, her face the mask of pain and sorrow. She kneeled beside him and opened the lockbox. A blood-red heart lay inside on a white cushion, beating with life. Arthas could not help but stare at it, perplexed, a strange warmth running through his body and into his soul – the very thing he lost the moment he seized Frostmourne's handle.

„While I was tutoring you and your sister back in Lordaeron, we have shared something very special. But of course I could not possibly get romantically involved with a teenage boy or they would send me to the gallows for violating the crown prince."

Her voice was soft and calm as she spoke, quietly and Arthas listened, however his eyes were still fixed upon the beating heart. He remembered those times as one would remember another lifetime.

„There also was a special someone for you as well and I could not interfere with the events that were yet to come to pass. When you realized your feelings towards Jaina, I was glad the problem solved on its own, but I had not anticipated two things. The first being your ability to divide and differ your love between two women and the second, the role you were asigned to play in the furute. I had no idea what you were about to become and I regret deeply I had not tried to warn you, to stop you, when I realized what was happening." she heaved a heavy sigh and for a moment, Arthas thought he heard a hitch of breath before she continued.

„I watched your progress since Stratholme. I saw you find the Frostmourne, succumb to its curse and use it to kill your own father and as you were slowly turning into one of the Lich King's lackeys, I could feel it affecting me as well, though somehow I could not hear his voice as clearly as you could. At that time I did not understand why that was. As I watched you sending your troops to their doom at the battle for Light's Hope five years later and the distaster at the Wrathgate, I made up my mind and contacted Darion Mograine and Tirion Fordring. I persuaded them that only I can get to you close enought for them to make a move, for only I knew about the heart you so foolishly cut out. What I did not tell them, however, was that the heart was no longer yours. The only thing remaining was a part of my heart and soul linked to it, from when you gave me yours those many years ago."

Arthas looked up at her like he had never seen her before. He did not uderstand anything anymore. And as if she could read the questions written all over his face, she smiled gently.

„As I said, I underestimated the feelings we shared. I thought you were just an adorable little kid going through a particularly wild phase of puberty and I tried my best to show it but as the time went by I realized how terribly wrong I was. Not just about your true feeling... but mine as well. You probably remember what you said to me when I was leaving Lordaeron?"

Arthas nodded. The memory filled his mind, vivid as if it was only yesterday.

They were standing by the wall of the courtyard of Palace of Lordaeron. She was different then. Her skin was like a peach and her hair fiery when she looked at him, surprised, with those glittering, blue eyes so distinctive for all the high-elves. Arthas had just came back from his initiation into the Order of the Silver Hand. Fully-fledged paladin now he was, so happy about it, he arrived early and they almost collided with each other as she tried to leave before his return.

He stubbornly insisted on escorting her at least part of the way and so they made their way through Tirisfal Glades, silent. No sooner they reached Brill, when Arthas finally spoke and his voice was agitated, when he had asked why she tried to sneak out of the castle. Keri'el then told him it had to be that way. Her services were no longer necessary.

They were staring at each other for, what felt like hours, listening only to the soft clapping of hooves on the well-trodden path. Then she grinned broadly and an icy glow enveloped her hand. The next thing the blond prince knew, a snowbolt headed his way. He jumped off the horse's back just in time for it to fly harmlessly where his face had been just a second before.

Keri'el had made her point. There was nothing left for her to teach him.

Talking about many things, including his ceremony and her next stop on her way to Quel'Thalas, Arthas escorted the elven mage as far as the bridge across Thondroril River –or what was now known as the border of Eastern and Western Plaguelands- and there they parted. Before she left him behind, however, she had said something he now vividly remebered.

„Jaina is a girl you will find only once in a lifetime." and she cought him off guard, for he had never spoken to anyone about his feelings towards the young mage. „Do not forget the duty to your heart."

And Arthas heard himself reply. „I am not going to. But I mean it when I say, that part of it will always belong to you."

And as his own response from so long ago echoed in his mind, the very same words left his lips even as he sat there, looking into her beautiful face once again, both of them bearing scars that will never truly heal.

„Yes," Keri'el sighed. „And by saying that you performed a very old ritual that had created a very powerful magical bond between us. You see, my people are a passionate race. We love and hate for the rest of our lives, which may very well be for thousands of years. I did not anticipate this could happen between one of us and a mortal. So, when you gave me that important part of your heart and soul and I left mine with you and Frostmourne rob you of the rest, a piece of it still survived within me. And the Lich King had probably never intended to affect anyone else the way he did you so that his power was not strong enough to get me fully under his control as well. Not when he began loosing his powers anyway. It provided me with so much needed time to figure everything out and take action. I have used the link between us to transfer as much of the human prince left in you as possible and store it within the depths of my own heart –which made me partialy responsible for a few of your more brutal courses of action. However, I believed that one day it could be used as a key to your redemption. And I was right."

„You robbed me of my humanity?" Arthas was not sure how to feel about it. He was glad she spared him the pain he would eventually have to go through, but angry for all those lives he had stolen only to see if there will be at least some kind of response from the thing one would call a conscience.

Keri'el sighed and noded apologetically.

„I am not sure if I should thank you or curse you." He said truthfuly. It did not matter now anyway. „But I still do not understand, why did you cut out your heart and brought it here?"

„Because only by extracting it from my chest and giving it back to you would I be able to save you from what you have become." She paused for a moment, thinking. „You have been feeling ill for some time now, is that right?"

Arthas' surprised face was enough of an answer.

„'Twas because of this heart. Even if the first reaction to something you had lost so long ago weakens you, the closer you come to it, the more you become yourself again." She showed him to a mirror by the door.

Looking into it, perplexed, Arthas touched his cheek and felt warmth. The contours of his face were no longer wrinkled, but smooth and his skin regained almost the exact shade of apricot it had when he was still alive. There stood the young crown prince of Lordaeron as if the past six years never happened.

Silver lockbox clinked as she put it on the vanity beside him. „As long as you yourself do not destroy this heart, you will be free again, Arthas. This is the least I can do to remdeem myself in your eyes."

The human prince reached up to run his fingers through his hair. It remained white and silky and somewhat cold on the touch. Was she suggesting what he thought she was? Would he be actually able to get his old life back? White brows wrinkled in a thoughtful frown and a ridiculous vision flashed through his mind.

„Wait... Do you really expect me to march out there?" he turned to her, motioning somehwere behind his back, out of the Citadel. „Maybe I should try to explain to Darion and the others that the last five years were just a misunderstanding? That I am an innocent victim of the Lich King's evil plot? Surely, they will welcome me back with opened arms and pledge their loyalty to me again, yes?" he had to laugh at that very idea.

„No, I do not expect you to do any such thing. Nor do I expect them to be so naïve." her voice hardened. Arthas stopped laughing. „In fact I do not remember ever saying anything about you becoming human again either."

„But you just said..."

„I said," she interupted him irritably. „That this heart will save you and help you in becoming yourself again. But it will not erase anything that had already happened, nor will it give you back your life. I have come here now, Arthas, because you are going to die. Your time is running short. And when you face your death, this living heart will free your soul so that it would not have to be imprisoned within these walls, forever wandering between the world of the living and the dead. This is the only way to your salvation."

He felt somehing heavy climbing up his insides, settling itself in the middle of his chest. He did not honestly expect to be given a second chance to live again. He was not even sure if he wanted to. The heart she brought showed him only a fraction of what he would have to deal with as a mortal being and even that was enough to stretch his pain tolerance to a breaking point. He was not brave enough to face it, nor could he possibly deal with what he had done, even by telling himself that he did what had to be done.

Moreover, there was no longer anything left for him to return to.

But right now, in this very moment he came closer the the human being he had once been than he would ever come. And there were so many things he would like to experience again.

Arthas smiled into the mirror and his brightly glowing eyes flared for a moment with the thought that had struck him. Again, he looked at her, mirth curling his now rose-pink lips. The elf kept staring blankly somewhere beyond the polished, wooden vanity, seemingly wandering deep within her own inner world of thought so that she looked completely unaware of her surroundings. And in that moment, he seemed to have forgotten everything -where he was, or what he was doing- helplessly lost in her captivating beauty. Small chin and a button-like nose, thin neck, beautiful chest, slim figure, long, divine legs...

In a fluent, swift motion, Arthas grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her against a wall. Apparently he managed to catch her by surprise as she did not have time to react before he pressed his lips against hers. Her eyes opened wide and for a moment it looked like she was going to resist. However her own will betrayed her and she was overwhelmed by the intesity of the kiss.

Her lips parted under his coaxing tongue and this time, lust and desire burned like dragon's flame between the two of them, about to incinerate them from within. His touch now felt warm as his hands slid from her wrists along elbows and onto her shoulders and still further south to her waist, hips and thighs, where he slowly began lifting her robes. Her arms crept around his neck and she was being hoisted up by a pair of strong arms and put gently on a huge, soft bed that was not there a few seconds before. As they lay down, he pulled her robes over her head with a yank and let it slip onto the floor.

Now dressed only in her underwear, the raven-haire elf smirked into his mouth and pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him onto his back. Her slender, nimble fingers slipped inside his garment, slowly taking it off, bit by bit. Through heavy breaths, he managed a moan as he leaned back, making it easier for her, enjoying the tips of her fingers curiously exloring every curve of every muscle on their way down to his waist and as her lips touched the bare skin of his hip, his fingers trailed down the cup her cheek. He sliped a hand beneath her chin and tilted her face up. His thumb gently caressed the softhenss of her lower lip. He wanted to prolong the sensation as much as possible and if she continued, he was not sure he would be able to withstand it for much longer.

He captured her mouth in yet another kiss, soft and sweet at first, like a freshly extracted honey. Only the slightest touch of lips against lips. Then it deepend and intensified and from the way she looked into his eyes, he could have sworn she was using her powers to subdue him, bending his conscience to her own will. But he did not care.

Suddenly his arms wrapped around her slender body and he pulled her up to stand on their knees, fingers trailing up and down her spine, reluctantly at first, as if afraid she might dissapear, was he not careful enough. When nothing happened, he let his hands slide down lazily, hovering over pelvic bone before making their way to the hem of her panties. A breathless groan left her parted lips and he pulled it off, however, she did not intend to let his insolence go unpunished.

It was only a matter of seconds before they both were naked. She drew even closer to him, lips tracing the outline of his jaw and cheek before settling to nible on his earlobe. That small, provocative gesture seemed to have immediate effect. Every single cell in his body ached from wanting her. His arms wrapped around her more firmly, one hand resting on her waist, the other slipping between her thighs, coaxing them apart. He used his weight to press her onto the sheets and his attention turned to any part of her body he could reach, not leaving out a single one.

He kissed his way down her neck, pausing to run his tongue along the clavicle before caressing her breasts with the dedication of an artist creating a life gen work. Her exited moans filled his ears and blinded his senses, encouraging him to move lower along her hips, hot breath marking the way into her lap.

She whimpered softly as he tasted her. The precision of his tongue spoke of experience she would never have expected. He touched exactly where she liked it the most, using agile and slightly cold fingers to boost the pleasure. She dipped her fingernails into a pillow, ripping it apart, biting lower lip to prevent herself from crying out his name. And each time she failed, it seemed to arouse him even more.

A sting of dissapointment invaded her lust-filled mind when he stopped, but it dissapeared in an instant as she felt his heating body pressing against her from behind, hand slithering along her slender form to grip a thigh and lift it up a little for him to have better access for the next step.

She gave in to his demands, accepting him inside without resistance, unable to hold a cry of pleasure any longer as he began to move within her, holding her steady and whispering sweet, sweet promises silently into her ear. She reacted and adapted to every little change he made. Followed his lead as he backed against a pillow and settled her on his lap -forehead buried in her bossom, hands caressing smooth, perfect skin of her exposed back- or laid down on the sheets, leaving her free reign.

She bent low to steal his lips in another passionate kiss, matching the strokes of their tongues with the movements of their heated bodies, feeling the sweet throbs of climax drawing nearer and nearer.

Her body went rigid, thighs firmly gripping his hips as he led them both over the edge before gravity reclaimed them and they were falling down into the stormy, cold waters of the deepest and most intense of earthly pleasures. His hands squeezed her hips firmly and only her quickly imprisoning their breathless panting within the depth of each other's mouth prevented any audible manifestation of the exquisite pleasure from getting out of control. However only barely.

And when the blissful moment had passed and the rest of the world began to creep back into their solitary room, she nestled against his chest, taking a deep breath.

With his eyes closed to enjoy every single bit of the fading afterglow of their coupling, Arthas held her as close to him as possible and with a whisper of thanks he kissed his lover's lips, as she looked up at him in surprise, for she did not expect it.

He smiled softly and in that moment, she knew that this can never happen again and a very strange and unsettling notion gripped it's icy fist around her throat. He craved for everything to end. Arthas actualy wanted to be defeated, conquered, to be killed. He was only looking for someone with enough strength to do it. But why? Has it been so much of a torment for him? For how long? The whole time maybe? Keri'el doubted he would answer her honestly, had she asked him. What scared her the most, however -even though she somewhat understood- was the fact that he wished for death like he had never wished for anything else. And that he was very well aware of the fact that another will have to take his place and for that unfortunate soul there may be no escape.

She curled up in his arm feeling his fingers curling through her raven strands. Maybe it was only her wild imagination mingled with memories suddenly filling her relaxing mind, but with her face pressed against the crook of his neck, she could smell horses and leather again. Just like when he was a boy, coming to her lessons very late on his way from the stables.

P.S.: Apologies for the possible OOCsness, cause I really wanted to give Arthie some kind of personality... and it will have it's uses in the upcoming chapters :)