Stirrings in Lordaeron

A/N: Thank you again, reviewers! So pleased you're enjoying the story – I hadn't really expected to get this far but since I've received only positive feedback and have had so much fun writing it I've decided to continue. Apologies in advance for a slightly shorter chapter but it was the only good cut-off point, unfortunately. Enjoy.


He heard the voice and sat completely still in his seat, eyes shut lightly. The only sound in the carriage now was Jaina's soft weeping but Arthas was certain of what he had heard.

Cracking his lids open faintly and with pursed lips, the Prince turned his face calmly and slowly to the left as though he had just been interrupted in court by a pestering messenger, rotating his head in a perturbed manner as to cast his searing gaze upon the intruder.

Sitting calmly on the bench by his side was an apparition, an incorporeal thing in the shape of a man in heavy robes and black eyes that were mildly disconcerting, hands folded neatly in his lap and a thoughtful expression upon his face.

Arthas was about to take a deep draw of air and bellow something kingly like, 'What is the meaning of this, interloper?!' when the apparition smiled faintly and spoke again.

“I knew we would, you know.”

When no response was forthcoming the figure continued. “Meet again, that is. When you killed me.”

The Prince tried to maintain a countenance of boredom despite the genuine surprise. With a minor lift of one snowy eyebrow, he replied flatly. “Kel'thuzad, I presume.”

With a semblance of a bow, the ghost dipped his head in both affirmation and acquiescence. He seemed none too bothered by the facts that the Prince appeared quite unimpressed by his presence or that his large hands were resting easily upon his knees with his softening member still exposed between his legs.

“Well then, I'd appreciate it immensely if next time you decide to arrive so very abruptly and unannounced that you... don't.”

The necromancer looked humbled, though the small smile never drifted from his insubstantial lips. “I apologize for the deception, my King, however I did not think you would wish to be seen in front of the others speaking to an entity that only yourself could view.”

Arthas' gaze shifted to Jaina quickly, but dismissed her just as swiftly when he noticed she was still sobbing quietly and didn't look at all interested in the Prince's seemingly one-sided conversation.

Turning his eyes back to the spectral mage and with a speculative tilt of his head, he responded softly. “No, we certainly wouldn't want that at all.”

A long moment of noiselessness ensued where the death knight's mind was working, considering all the possibilities. A brief test was in order.

Feigning a bit of incredulity and keeping a regal air about his question, he asked, “Why is it that only I can see you then?”

The specter lifted his brow, but answered respectfully. “Isn't it obvious? You are the Master's chosen champion. The cross where humans and the Scourge meet. You are his sword arm, the receptacle for his immense power. You shall be the one to set him free, and I am here to serve you... in whatever manner you need.”

Arthas brought a hand to his chin. “And what of the demons?”

Kel'thuzad's face remain unchanging. “Necessary for now. It is better if you don't know everything, but trust that all will be revealed in time.”

Despite the elusiveness of that answer, the Prince felt placated. The necromancer responded to his insipid questions without even a hint of condescension, and he felt something else lapping at the edge of his consciousness... The Master was urging him to believe, to trust.

Finally content to drop the icy exterior a bit, Arthas smirked. “Anything I need, hmm?”

In all seriousness, the apparition nodded again. “Most certainly. Anything at all. I would only ask that perhaps in the future you do not forget me... I am but a loyal servant to the end.”

“Oh, is that so,” the Prince replied slyly. “Well then, I can see to it that you are resurrected...”

Kel'thuzad laughed at that, a strange, hollow noise that emanated from nowhere in particular. “Aha! But are we not on our way to do that very thing as we speak?”

Arthas shrugged noncommittally, neither confirming nor denying that he had any previous knowledge of this. “What is it you want then, ghost?”

The necromancer shook his head. “There is nothing I require, my King, you misunderstand my intentions. I only wish that you might consider me when the time comes for the Scourge to claim this land and the next. Regardless of what I do or do not receive, I am here to aid you and further the Master's designs.”

The Prince found himself driven to believe the translucent being and even beginning to like the mild-mannered calmness about him while still managing to be astute and obedient. Funny that, he had been a furious, sputtering mess when he had discovered Kel'thuzad was the one behind the distribution of the tainted grain supply from Andorhal. He just loved how these things worked out sometimes...

“Very well, ghost,” Arthas exclaimed, still having not covered himself. He had no real need for modesty, and not that he necessarily had anything to prove to Kel'thuzad, the gesture spoke of his superiority and belief that all situations were within his control.

“I must say though, my King,” the necromancer ventured, “I do see an immediate dilemma that I might be able to assist you with.”

The Prince examined his nails, looking disinterested. “Oh?”

“Indeed.” And the specter's eyes shifted to the naked woman lying face down on the opposite bench.

Arthas followed his gaze and instantly narrowed his eyes, demanding low and dangerous. “What about her?”

Kel'thuzad smiled, and the death knight wasn't quite sure if he detected just a hint of smugness in it. “Why, my King... as I understand it you wish for this human to remain so rather than becoming part of the Scourge while still maintaining a hold on her will. Is that not correct?”

His jaw set harshly, the Prince's voice spoke of death, “And what do you know of it?”

With all the gentleness of a mother reassuring her children, the specter responded calmly. “My lord, I only wish to tell you that such a thing is more than possible, and much easier then you might believe. The power is at your fingertips, and I can teach you how to wield it.”

Instantly intrigued, Arthas demanded, “How? Tell me now.”

“It is much easier if I show you. With your permission of course.” Kel'thuzad smiled his most warm and welcoming smile.

Hesitating, and glancing back over to the blond sorceress, the Prince finally nodded.

“Show me.”

The necromancer's expression seemed to melt away, as did the rest of him as his incorporeal body dissipated into a thick mist, whirling and floating ethereally towards the woman until it settled upon her and appeared to sink into her skin.

Jaina's cries had recently quieted and she lay motionless for a few moments before suddenly stirring. It began as a shudder and a slight shifting of her body against the bench until she let out a faint moan.

Arthas watched in fascination as she began to writhe, murmuring wantonly as though she were being caressed generously at that very moment. Her hips wiggled against the seat searching for stimulation, her form rocking faintly as she turned her head to gaze at the Prince sleepily.

Her lids were droopy but not in the catatonic manner they had been before, more like they were laced in passion; the groans emitted from her throat sounded real and genuine. Before when Arthas had coaxed the words that she needed him from her mouth, they had been mechanical and forced, but now...

“Oh, Arthas... I need you...” Jaina purred, trying to rub her breasts against the seat.

He sat motionless, watching as she continued to unsuccessfully pleasure herself before cocking his head and beckoning her over with one crooked finger.

The sorceress tried to slide from the seat gracefully but her weakened limbs and bound hands made it difficult. She managed to arrive on her knees and shuffle over towards the Prince, eagerness painting her face.

Jaina's eyes glued to the soft flesh between his legs as she desperately tried to lay her head into his lap, looking up into Arthas' pallid face with a pleading look.

“Oh please, let me suck you, Arthas.”

Other than the slight glassiness and unnatural sheen to her large, blue eyes, she appeared as she should, and the Prince grinned evilly before nodding.

Rubbing her cheek along his length, Jaina moaned happily, doing her best to touch as much of her face to his cock as she could without the use of her hands. Pink tongue left her mouth sweep across the Prince's member that still smelt of herself, long languid strokes that ran from the base of his sac to the tip of his dick.

Arthas felt himself stir and harden a bit despite the fact that he had finished only a few minutes before, undeniably aroused at the idea that she could be so willing and convincing while under his complete control.

“Good girl...” he murmured, placing his hand upon her head endearingly, urging the woman to take his cock into her mouth.

Jaina complied without question, nibbling gently along the side and licking lavishly before drawing the semi-hard flesh between her lips. She immediately began to suck with fervor, groaning as though it were her being stimulated, bobbing her head and making wet, slurping noises. Arthas thought she meant to devour him and used his grasp on the woman's head to slow her pace and just enjoy the feel of her hot mouth wrapped around his cock.

Again she responded immediately and lessened her speed, using her tongue to manipulate the underside of his shaft, taking in as much of him as she could so that her nose was buried in the curly white hairs of his crotch.

“Yes, this is most magnificent indeed.” The Prince spoke aloud with surprising clarity amidst Jaina's sounds of pleasure, gently stroking her tousled hair.

“Do you like the taste of yourself, Jaina? From when I fucked you earlier?”

She murmured enthusiastically in what he interpreted to be assent, wondering if she'd believe anything he told her.

“I didn't think you wanted me to fuck you before, you acted as though it was unwelcome. Are you saying you want it now? More than anything?”

Jaina nodded against his cock and made more noises, squirming uncomfortably to soothe the ache between her own legs.

“Will you do anything I tell you to now, Jaina? Anything I wish?”

“Mmhmm.” She mumbled again, becoming more inflamed it seemed by the sound of his voice, increasing her pace of sucking once again. Her lips were so tight around his shaft and her own moans sent wondrous twinges of need spiraling through his groin.

Anything I wish...

It was just too perfect. His own delightful, little marionette wrapped in the perfect, believable human package. The possibilities were endless.

The Master was being oh so good to him...

Sighing, Arthas extracted the sorceress from his cock who looked up at him with curious, cerulean eyes.

“We'll finish that later, dear.” He purred, grabbing the woman under her armpits like a child and hoisting her up into his lap. “You've been so well-behaved,” he spoke against her throat, dragging one pale hand down between her breasts, past her abdomen to cup her mound, the large palm covering her entire pussy and obscuring the view.

She made an exaggerated gasp of shock though whether it be from the coolness of his skin or the mere contact he wasn't sure.

Jaina tried to grind her body against him but his iron grip held her still.

“Forever, Jaina...” he whispered in her ear making her shiver blissfully. “I promised that, didn't I? And now I can make it so. You'll be mine forever...”

“That's what I want, Arthas,” the sorceress half-whimpered.

“Good, good...” He grinned against her. “Well, now that we know I can manipulate your mind, let's see if your body will follow suit.”

The Prince penetrated Jaina's wet core with two long, calloused fingers before he ordered. “Come for me. Now.”

And she did, instantly and violently, clinging to his hand as though she were drowning, crying out her release and shuddering against him.

Arthas felt the tight muscles of her tunnel convulsing against his fingers, indescribably pleased at the recent turn of events. Kel'thuzad was turning out to be quite the invaluable asset after all.

After many moments, Jaina finally stilled and collapsed against him, unconscious and limp. The Prince pulled out his fingers before disgustedly wiping the woman's juices off on her back. From there, the swirling spectral essence of the necromancer began to depart her body, coiling and coalescing back into his human-like appearance.

Though, if it were at all possible for a ghost to look winded, Kel'thuzad certainly did. His translucent image was less sharp and his eyes more sunken.

Pressing a hand to his forehead and leaning forward in his seat he gasped, “She is quite strong-willed. I wasn't sure I could hold her for that long.”

Arthas sent him a questioning look before rising to ungracefully deposit the flaccid woman upon the opposite bench.

After finally composing himself and re-lacing his pants, the Prince asked with a hint of anger, unwilling to let there be a hitch within this new plan, “What do you mean? I thought you said the power would be easy to wield?”

Kel'thuzad took a few seconds more to recover before replying. “For you, my lord. That was merely an example of what YOU can do. I cannot maintain a hold on the woman forever, especially someone of her power. And I will be unable to perform this task for you also once my body has been resurrected. I only wished to simulate what it is you can do to bind her will to your own.”

Heat was rising in the Prince's face. “Explain yourself. I am no specter, how do I do this?”

The necromancer's eyes peered down at the discarded sword belt on the floor of the carriage which adorned the scabbard of Frostmourne. “Your blade, my lord. You can use the runeblade in ways you can't even imagine.”

Arthas' expression was hard as the reality of his position began to sink in. He was fulfilling his destiny, he was the chariot for the new order that would sweep across Azeroth, the vessel of immense power, the right hand of a being whose very existence permeated the air around them, an entity who felt real and substantial and at the same moment was so much more than that...

It had never been that way with the Light. Yes, of course the paladins showed the great magic that could come from following it, flaunting their abilities in order to make people believe that it was the correct course and that the devout were justly rewarded. It was all merely a show, blindly stumbling after whomever had the most impressive story to tell. It was idiocy.

But now...

His followers were unquestioning, they needed no reassurance or displays. They simply obeyed.

Jaina would obey.

And he'd do it without even turning her into a mindless creature.

Arthas felt lighter as he knelt to retrieve the sword; he was consumed by power and at the same moment it freed him.

Gingerly sliding the blade from its sheath, he took a moment to examine it: the gentle, soothing hum, the intricate runes glowing a distant blue. He took a deep breath.

Kel'thuzad remained silent through this, allowing his lord a moment before whispering, “Focus, my King. Clear your head and imagine what it feels like when Frostmourne claims a soul.”

Arthas shuddered involuntarily.

The necromancer continued quietly. “We will not be claiming the soul at this time, however. Instead we will be taking hold of it. Grasping and not letting go. Let the tendrils of the Master's icy hand reach in and cup the intangible, shadows encompassing other shadows. Reach out...”

He could almost see it. Behind closed eyes, he could nearly visualize an insubstantial hand emanating from the sword itself, reaching in to clasp Jaina's soul.

The soul... where did it reside...

Reaching...

Nervously, Kel'thuzad cleared his throat before the Prince became too ensconced in what he was doing. “My King, I would only like to take a brief moment to remind you that if you do this, it will be permanent, irreversible... make certain it is what you wish. When the Master takes a hold of a soul he will never, never let it go.”

With closed eyes, Arthas shivered again from an unseen chill before he responded stoically.

“Oh yes. I know.”