Disclaimer: Any things taken or paraphrased from Arthas: Rise of the Lich King belong solely to Christie Golden. I didn't make those things up, that wonderful woman did.
All is Unfair in Love and War
The man's gleaming blonde hair flowed down around his shoulders as he looked down into her eyes with his piercing emerald eyes. He leaned down and kissed her lips, her face, her neck, and pulled himself closer to her. Every part of them had become one. They were here in this moment together, and he was never going to let her go. "Jaina, I love you," he managed to breathe.
Jaina arched her back and dug her fingers deep into his back. She could feel her nails begin to dig into the skin and slowly relieved the pressure. She moaned, "Arthas, I love you too." One of her arms slammed down onto the bed, and she grasped the silk sheets between her fist and tugged on them. Everything had happened so fast, she didn't know how they had ended up like this, but nothing seemed to matter in the word between the two lovers. Their bodies emanated heat, almost enough that nuclear fusion could have taken place right in the bedroom.
All at once she felt relieved and both of them fell back to the bed. The only sound in the room was the heavy sighs and breathing that echoed from wall to wall. Jaina looked around the room and took it in. There had been no time before to acknowledge how a prince's room actually looked. They were sprawled out on a four poster bed that seemed to take up the entirety of the room, each inch of it covered in silk sheets that now weren't even partially on the bed. It was quite simply a bed made for royalty.
The walls were made out of stone, as was much of the castle, Jaina knew. A couple dressers that were filled with Arthas's clothes, as well as a gigantic bookshelf took up much of the remaining space in the room. She snickered to herself. It was one of the many things she loved about him. He knew how to look great, and was almost just as knowledgeable as she was. Almost, she thought.
Arthas straightened himself out on the bed, his lower half covered by the sheets leaving her to gaze in awe at his upper body. Each muscle looked as if it had been crafted by the Titans. The sun that shined through the window seemed to glisten off his smooth tanned skin. Jaina propped herself up on her arm, grasping the sheets up around her body and used her free hand to trace the contours of his chest. She followed it up, down, up again, and then down the side of his arm, her palm briefly squeezing his bicep on his way down to connect with his hand.
"I'm so happy you're here. These past few months with you have been the greatest. While we may have had some bumps in the road," Arthas stated, and Jaina knew that he was mentioning when they had been caught in Dalaran by Kael'thas Sunstrider. She and the high elf had been good friends, but she always knew that he desired more; however, Arthas had her heart. He was the man she was meant to be with. "I still feel so lucky to be able to call you my fiance, and I hope we never have to be apart."
She smirked down at him and pecked his lips. "There's no way I'm letting you get away, Arthas Menethil. This is where we're meant to be, I just know it."
He laughed, "I can't argue with a sorceress. I would have my work cut out for me."
Slowly she sat up in bed, her golden hair falling down off her shoulder. She stated, "Speaking of work, you should probably get dressed. You have more training with Uther this morning, and goodness knows your sister will be here any second to talk about more wedding plans"
As if on queue, his bedroom door slammed open. The lovers quickly dive grabbed more sheets and blankets to cover themselves as they looked upon their intruder. She was a shorter girl with shoulder length blonde hair that seemed to curve and accent her face. Her green eyes and childish features made her seem younger than her brother, but in fact she was the older of the two, and always made it a point to remind them. Her blouse and pants were a solid blue with a white zig-zag pattern, and the look on her face let Jaina knew that she was ready to get some work done.
"Okay, little brother, you need to get dressed and get downstairs immediately. Father and Uther are less than pleased that you're late," she started in. Almost instantly she walked over and grabbed Jaina's purple blouse and skirt off the ground and tossed them at her. Jaina caught them and sat them in her lap. "And you, missy, we have flowers to pick out today. Now, come on, let's move, move, move!" As fast as she had entered, she was gone, the door closing behind her.
"Oh, Calia, you have to love her," Arthas sighed.
"I do. She's exactly the sister I've always wanted," Jaina laughed. Hesitantly they both crawled out of bed, and Jaina began to slip on her clothes, all the while watching Arthas walk across the room. Goodness, I adore him. He casually bent over to grab his armor off the floor, deliberately slowing himself down as he did so. The enormous golden plates clinked as he slipped them on over his undergarments. The bracers, the boots, and the leg plates all seemed to swallow him whole until she watched him place the pauldrons on his shoulders. They were giant lion heads, and they almost threatened to crush his head.
He shook out his long blonde hair as Jaina finished brushing hers, and they both walked to the door. "Will I see you tonight for the burning of the Wickerman?" Jaina questioned.
Arthas leaned in and kissed her nose, while grabbing his oversized maul that was lying against the wall. He breathed in her scent and whispered, "I wouldn't miss it for the world." She felt like a giddy school girl and quickly opened the door to be faced with her soon to be sister-in-law. "Oh! Hello, Calia, glad to see that you went on your merry way."
She ignored her brother's tone and shoved him down the hall while clutching Jaina's hand and pulling her the opposite way down a flight of stairs. Outside she was smiling, but inside Jaina knew her day was going to be a long one.
Two months had come and gone since the Wickerman festival, but Jaina was still in awe at how beautiful the night had gone. All of the festivities kept the couple busy most of the night, and they didn't have much time to talk, but finally it came down to the burning of the Wickerman. As everyone scurried about to scrambled about the eight foot scarecrow, Arthas and Jaina had ran off into a more secluded part of the royal grounds. There they lost themselves in each other again, not caring about anything else around. For now it was just the two of them.
As she strolled around outside the castle grounds, dragging her feet through the freshly fallen snow, and twirling her oversized fur cloak around her, Jaina also came to ponder on how their new hobbies had began to cause them to spend less time together. She wanted to continue studying in Dalaran where any mage who cares about what they do travels, and Arthas was to be indited into the Knights of the Silver Hand. While they still saw each other, sometimes she felt like it wasn't enough for a newly engaged couple. Perhaps it will change once the wedding comes, she thought to herself.
Her hands crept down her front until they encircled her stomach. She spoke aloud, "Or perhaps everything will change once you show up. I can't wait to surprise your daddy tonight." Jaina stroked her abdomen softly talking to the life that had been growing inside of her for almost three months. She hadn't told Arthas yet, because she wasn't sure if she was, and when she did know, they were both too busy. "But tonight will be different, little one. Tonight Arthas will know all about you, my little Uther Menethil." Instantly she felt a jab in her side and knew that her son knew she was talking about him, and that he was just as excited as she was.
With a wave of her palm, she caused a swirl of snow to whirl about her. She laughed, but gingerly stepped away from it. Magic was known to be harmful to children in the womb, and she wasn't going to take any chances. Jaina just had to keep doing slight spells so that she wouldn't lose her touch.
Suddenly from behind her a branch snapped and echoed off the mound the castle sat on, in between the few trees that were scattered about. The mage spun around and instantly came face to face with the culprit. It was a petite green-skinned woman. Her ivory tusks jutted out from the bottom of her lip, threatening to tear into the top if it. The woman's hair had been completely shaved off, and from the looks of it, had been turned into the tunic and pants she wore. The orc gradually moved forward towards Jaina as she began to take a few steps back. She spoke, and luckily the young mage had studied orcish and could understand what she was saying. "Is the poor little human girl lost? Shall I help you?"
"You have no right to be here. Please leave. I don't want to hurt you," Jaina pleaded in orcish. An orange hue began to envelop her right hand as her mind began to work to cast a fireball.
"Hurt me?" the orc scoffed. "You should be the one that's worried little sorceress." As her sentence finished the orc began to wave her hands about a white aura appearing around them.
Quickly Jaina finished casting the fireball and threw it much like a softball straight for the orc, as a barrage of lavender-colored missiles soared by her. Neither mage had hit one another and promptly began to cast again. Why are there orcs here, and why does she want to hurt me? I haven't done anything! This time when Jaina released her fireball she led the orc and just as she finished casting her spell the magic collided with her, bursting her into flames.
At the same moment the orcs spell encompassed Jaina. Instantly her body began to contort and crunched over. Snow colored fur popped up all around her, and her nose grew outwards. She had been polymorphed into a sheep. As swiftly as it had happened, it was gone, and she was back to her human self. For a few moments she simply laid in the snow, the cold helping to calm her down. She moved her fingers, her toes, and everything seemed to be back to normal.
Hastily she climbed back up to her feet. The orcs ashes had burned away in the wind, and only she would know what had happened. Jaina touched her unborn child and gave a sigh of relief. Just as she did a sharp pain burst through her abdomen as if she had been stabbed with a red hot poker. She reeled over and screamed into the soon approaching dusk. No, no, no, no, no. This can't be happening. No this isn't real. The woman knew that it was, though. Her body had been transformed into something completely inhuman that was not capable of carrying a human child.
Horns and drums began to sound from the castle, and Jaina knew the Feast of Winter Veil was underway and during it her fiance would be ordained a paladin. Her legs felt like lead, but she wrapped her arms around herself and headed off for the celebrations, a lone tear drop falling into the icy air.
Jaina sat on the edge of the fountain that was placed in the middle of Lordaeron castle. The trickling of the water pouring from it seemed to drown out the sounds of celebrations from inside. The only light around was the full moon that shone down on her like a spotlight. Everything made it the perfect spot for her to cry. Tears fell and fell until she thought they would fall no more. I can't believe it, my little Uther. He would have been so proud.
Across from her a gate opened with an annoying creaking sound, and she quickly wiped her tears from her face. Even in the dim moonlight she could still make out the man walking towards her, his shining hair and bright blue armor seemed to soak up the moonlight and radiate him. The ceremony for Arthas joining the Knights of the Silver Hand had gone off perfectly, but at the end of it he had said that he needed to speak with her and to meet him in the courtyard.
There she waited for him. Expressing her sorrows with no one else around and gathering up the courage to tell her lover what had happened that day. He strolled up to her and grasped her hand in his, taking a seat next to her. "Jaina, I'm so happy you made it tonight. It would have felt wrong without you," he shared.
She grinned and reached forward to kiss him on the cheek. "Arthas," she breathed, "it was so beautiful. I'm so proud of you." A long pause stretched on between the two of them. They simply sat there looking into each other's eyes. Finally she broke the silence with a cough. "Listen, there's something I need to tell you-"
"Wait, let me go first because I think I know what you're going to say," he interjected. The prince leaned in and kissed her, a tear drop from both of them met in the middle creating a momentary pool on their cheeks, and then he pulled back. "Many people were talking about our marriage today. They said how it was going to be amazing for Lordaeron, and how it would bring all of us closer together. I completely agree! It would be the best thing for this land." More tears began to fall, and Arthas had to give himself a moment to catch his breath. "But what I couldn't deal with was them talking about children and our future. I'm not ready for that, and-" his voice cracked just the slightest, "and I don't think you really are either. I just became a paladin, and you want to leave for Dalaran. We could try the long distance thing, but we know it would never work," he explained.
Jaina's heart had shattered. Her stomach felt like a black hole had taken up residence and sucked everything else out of her. Numbness began to overtake her body. He never even wanted children. Tears washed from her eyes in waves. She tried to speak, but she could never catch her breath long enough to say anything. What was truly happening here? "What are you saying?" she finally mouthed.
He dropped her hand and pressed away the tears in his eyes, trying to compose himself. "Jaina Proudmoore, I love you, and I will always love you. Never again will a woman captivate me as much as you have. At this point in our lives, though, for the both of us I think it's better if we find our way, and if one day that way leads us back together then so be it, but for now just remember, I love you," he recited. Cautiously he stood up and began to walk away. She wanted to shout his name, she wanted to hit him, but the only thing she could do was nod and watch him walk away, his cape twisting as he strolled away.
Before the door closed, separating them for good she managed to lightly whisper his name, "Arthas."
The young sorceress shielded herself from the heat the flames were giving off. All around her buildings were bursting into flames, each one catching the next one on fire if it wasn't already. Brick walls had been smashed through, debris littered the roads, and worst of all people littered the roads.
Hundreds and hundreds of people had been ripped from their homes, slaughtered, and thrown out into the streets. Blood and other body debris covered everything and the stench of burning flesh filled her nose. Jaina scanned the entire area, but there wasn't a single living soul left in Stratholme.
"Arthas, what have you done?" she cried to the night sky. How had he gone so wrong? She recalled the first time they had seen each other after so many years of being apart. The ogre that was chasing her gave her no feelings compared to how she felt when she had seen his face or when she had told him that it had been awhile since a prince escorted her anywhere, and he had blushed almost as if he were a child again.
The memory of the last time she saw him also came flooding back. Hearthglen was under attack and Jaina had brought Uther Lightbringer and the Silver Hand back to drive them away. That night they spent the evening together making love and holding onto the moment, trying to forget the hell they were in. That night she also promised to never deny him or doubt him ever again. This time they would make it.
Yet not even a few days after she broke her promise. She broke his heart. She turned her back on him when he needed it the most. His face was still etched into her brain. His voice cracking as he breathed, "Jaina." The only response she could give him was:
I'm sorry, Arthas. I can't watch you do this.
Was this my fault? Had I gone with him, could I have stopped all of this? Why did I break my promise to him? Emptiness filled her as she began to question everything. She didn't get to dwell long as a man yelled her name from across the burning ruins that was once a village.
"Jaina! Jaina Proudmoore!" A man in his early forties came running towards her. His hair and facial foliage were all the color of salt and pepper. The golden armor he wore clanked as he ran, his maul swaying back and forth as he ran.
"Uther?" she asked.
"Where has he gone girl? Where has Arthas gone?"
Should she tell him? What if this is what was best? "I-I don't know," she lied.
The paladin walked forward and placed an armored hand under her chin and lifted her face to meet his. He was stern, but caring in the way he looked at her. "Jaina, I have to find him before he hurts other people."
Jaina began to cry, and her head fell out of his hand. "Northrend. He's gone to Northrend to hunt Mal'Ganis," she explained. The feeling of betrayal hit her again. It was almost as if she couldn't help herself.
Uther cursed, "Dammit! I have to go speak to the king immediately!" On his heel, he spun and began trudging away. After a few steps he stopped and turned back. He assuaged her, "You can't blame yourself, girl. That boy is as stubborn as he is fool-hearted. You couldn't have stopped any of this had you tried. A smart woman such as yourself knows that. The only thing that would have happened is you would have gotten caught in the tornado that is the prince." With that, he continued to run off into the ever growing smoke around her.
"I know what you're thinking, dear girl. You are nothing and will never be anything like, King Arthas," Kel'Thuzad assured.
How could this man possibly know? This lich had once been a necromancer that had turned his back on everything he believed in all for a hope that something would happen. It ultimately led to his demise. For all she knew, he could very well be leading her to her own death. That she would not have.
"What do you know? Doing this, getting my revenge wouldn't solve anything. I would become just like Garrosh, like Arthas," Jaina stated.
The lich shook his head back and forth. "Not even close," he denied. "Garrosh is a terrible egotistical orc that feels that he and his kind are better than everyone around him. He kills for the sport. King Arthas, was an entirely different aspect. That man was lost for sometime. Always looking for a place to fit in, a place to prove himself. That's why Ner'zhul took such an interest in him long ago. I'm sure you can guess about when he set his sights on him."
The sorceress knew he was speaking of that the moment they had left each other the very first time. That's when everything had changed for him. It had changed for both of them. She was changed the moment the orc mage had jumped her and stolen her baby. Who knows that if Arthas hadn't broken off their engagement if she wouldn't have done it sooner or later, with or without Uther.
"He was simple-minded in his revenge. He wanted it to be the hero. You want yours for a very different ordeal and no one would judge you as they have judged both of those men. You know I'm right, Jaina. All you have to do is accept that," Kel'Thuzad declared.
Just because I want revenge doesn't make me a bad person. The Horde has taken numerous things from me. They deserve everything terrible that happens to them. Jaina nodded to the lich. She knew what had to be done. They deserve what I'm going to do.
The moment she had made a choice a portal opened next to the two of them. There was an image in it. Tall towers made up most of the city, an enormous violet citadel sat directly in the center of it. She knew the portal was to the mage city of Dalaran. Fury built up inside of her pushing her farther over the edge as she realized who could be coming from that portal.
In a snap, her suspicions were confirmed as a human male walked through the portal, and it closed behind him. He was wearing a tan tunic over a white long-sleeved shirt with matching pants. Over the tunic was a leather vest, in which the center was a periwinkle crystal of a dragon. This crystal was also apparent in his belt. His boots, gloves, and cape all had the same blue as the crystal, but what set him apart from most humans and something Jaina had always loved about him was his hair. It was also periwinkle, but flowed and looked as soft as velvet.
"Jaina?" he gasped.
"Kalecgos," Jaina identified.