Stirrings in Lordaeron

Warning: This story does contain sexual content of a non-consensual nature, so please do not read if that type of material offends you. This is also not a fluffy story about Arthas being redeemed, he is absolutely evil and does evil things, so if you're expecting something light and sweet I suggest you look elsewhere.


Stirrings in Lordaeron

Return to Lordaeron... Fulfill your destiny...

It seemed more like a suggestion than a command, one that was entirely too promising and tempting to pass up. Of course he would return to Lordaeron, it was only right that leadership of the region belong to one more capable and deserving; the old fool Terenas had enjoyed his reign for far too long already.

And how they cheered for him as he arrived, bells tolling merrily overhead, flower petals raining down upon his face, mindlessly praising the return of their beloved Prince. Would they be so pleased if they knew what he was planning? It didn't matter really, they had no real choice in the matter.

Arthas felt a tug in his groin as he walked, heavy boots falling against the stone, a thrill running through him as he thought of all the power he would have, all that would be his... and all that he could accomplish.

It was strangely exciting, looking up into the commoner's smiling faces, oblivious to their own doom. How much influence he wielded over them without ever even haven spoken to the vast majority, blindingly hopeful and loyal in hopes that the King would improve their insignificant lives and see to their safety.

Amusing.

The old fool sat on his throne, slumped heavily to one side before rising wearily to his feet to greet his son that had come suddenly bursting through the door.

Arthas bent to one knee, pulling Frostmourne from it's sheath to rest before him as his two attendants fanned out to either side.

The time was upon him. He had dreamt about this moment, endlessly yearning the instant where he would end his father's pitiful existence and take his rightful place as King.

A tiny, malicious grin graced his handsome, pale face as he stood and pulled back the cowl of his cloak.

The Prince looked at Terenas. So frail, so unaware... so weak. How had he survived so long? This shifting of power was one long overdue, and he relished in the task.

Fulfill your destiny...

Before he knew it, it was over. The old man hadn't even put up a fight. He lay there limp in his son's inhumanly strong grip, lifeless and bleeding as the crown toppled from his head and rolled across the floor.

Breathing heavily, Arthas tossed the body to the ground, eyes traveling back and forth from the man that had been his father and the metal crown tinged with crimson. He wiped his blade on the King's cloak and picked up the object, holding it carefully in his hands, looking intently as though to see some hidden meaning behind that which signified all that Terenas had worked for.

He smeared some of the blood around with the thumb of his glove, before casually tossing the crown aside into some unseen, shadowed corner.

Arthas' senses were filled with heaviness, heady, trembling slightly as he contemplated the immense importance of his task. A staggering breath left through his nostrils; his muscles tensed with longing.

He was a death knight, chosen follower of the Lich King, wielder of Frostmourne, vessel to unimaginable power. But he was still human.

Lordaeron was his, but he wanted all of it. He would take what he pleased, reshape whatever he desired, indulge in all that he wished. The amount of power he possessed in the palm of his hand was intoxicating, and he took another lustful breath at the thought.

Beckoning quietly to his guards, Arthas left the corpse of his father behind and emerged back outside where the crowds cries resumed anew.

With a wave that only increased the frenzy of their cheering, Arthas stoically began scanning faces, blues eyes scrutinizing those of the masses. So pleasant, so fawning. so.... corruptible. Yes, that's what he wanted. To corrupt them. Use them.

His gaze came to rest on a young woman with red hair, wearing a peasant's green dress, likely the finest she owned. Her face was alight as she tossed a handful of rose petals down, giggling as she turned to look at an older woman on her right.

Innocent, young, flawless. Perfect.

Feeling his crotch tighten again, Arthas pointed her out to his guards. “That one.”

Without another word, he marched back into the castle, the echoing cries blurring and dulling as he crossed the threshold and retreated within.

As he traveled through the halls, there were many bodies strewn about, guards loyal to Terenas that Arthas' own men had been in position to kill before a hand had ever been laid on the former King. He passed them as callously and thoughtlessly as he had his own father, blood staining the fine carpets that lined the floor.

He spoke with his captains, giving orders for containment. It would not be prudent for the people to know that the King was dead. Not yet.

They were obedient and followed his instructions to the letter. There would be no breach in loyalty, there would be no attempt to see which of the King's guard would willfully serve a new master. He was taking no chances.

Striding purposefully to the former King's bedroom, he ignored the two guards flanking the double doors and pushed his way inside.

The young woman was standing in the center of the room, looking around her at the ornate tapestries and massive fireplace in awe, only to jump slightly as the Prince abruptly entered the room.

“Prince Arthas!” She exclaimed, surprised, immediately falling into a deep curtsy.

Arthas greedily admired the view of her breasts, unabashedly sweeping his eyes over her figure. Silently he entered, beginning to remove his armor, intent gaze never leaving the girl.

She smiled at him nervously, hands seeking something to do by subconsciously smoothing out wrinkles in her dress. A blush reddened her cheeks as he unfastened the heavy black cloak from around his shoulders.

Not quite sure what to say or do, she began awkwardly. “It is an honor to meet you in person, my lord. My name is-”

“I don't care what your name is, nor did I give you permission to speak.” Arthas interrupted coolly.

The girl's mouth snapped shut and she swallowed hard, looking hurt.

He continued unfastening pieces of armor, wicked and jagged and riddled with skulls, watching the multitude of emotions that crossed her face. Unhooking the heavy, metal belt from around his waist, he dropped it to the floor and laid Frostmourne's scabbard atop the pile of discarded armor.

Wearing only the light linen clothing beneath, he began to advance towards the girl who was looking increasingly apprehensive.

“And... it's King Arthas now.”

Her brow knit together in confusion. “My lord?” She asked, eyes drifting to stare at his muscular arms and broad chest that was showing through the slit in his partially-open shirt. When had the Prince become so pale though?

Arthas noticed that the girl had some light freckling across her nose and cheeks, making her appear more youthful. “Yes, Terenas is dead.”

“Dead?” She gasped, a hand flying up to rest over her heart. The man in front of her was standing less than two feet away then, making her realize how large he actually was.

“Murdered, in fact.” He added without emotion, seeing the amounting fear in her eyes. He felt his cock harden, and his lips parted sligthtly.

Taking a step back, she stammered. “My gracious!”

Arthas closed the gap between them, towering over her with his broad, well over six foot frame. The woman was beginning to quiver, hands pressed protectively against her chest, looking unimaginably innocent and timid, only serving to heighten his arousal.

His hand came up to grab her shoulder and immediately she moved to shove it away, feeling panicked and threatened.

Arthas seized her wrist instead and the girl began to struggle. “My lord! What are you doing? What do you want from me?”

“I thought I said that you did not have permission to speak.” He growled roughly, snagging her other wrist in his hand and hauling her against him.

“Please, no!” She cried before he crushed his lips to hers, tongue forcing it's way into her mouth. His lips were cool to the touch, baffling the girl who franticly tried to turn her face away.

“Miserable wench.” He hissed at her, freeing one hand to slap her brazenly across the face.

The woman fell to the ground, nursing her bruised cheek, gasping for air.

Anger mingling with his unquenched desire, Arthas curled his fingers into fists. “Do you consider yourself loyal to the crown, girl?”

She said nothing, continuing to lay on the floor in shock.

“Answer me, damn it!” He roared at her.

“Y-yes, sir.” She whimpered, still facing away from him.

Arthas began to undo the ties of his breeches. “Then get on your knees and serve your King.”

The girl turned with an incredulous look on her face, watching wide-eyed as his member was released from its confines. “No no no, please no, my lord... I-”

Grabbing a fistful of the girl's shiny, red hair, she was pulled around and upward to be eye-level with his crotch. Tears began to leak from her eyes, still babbling her refusal.

“This is my kingdom now, and that means you belong to me. I am simply taking what is rightfully mine.” He guided his cock towards her mouth but she turned her face away again despite the painful twist of his fingers entangled in her locks, pulling against the roots.

“You refuse? I'm sure your family would not be pleased to hear that you have been charged with treason. That is, if you have any family left to go back to once it's discovered that you've displeased your King...”

“Noooo, please, my lord. My family is all I have...”

“Then don't make me ask again.”

Fresh tears springing to her eyes, a tentative hand came up to wrap fingers around the base of his shaft. Inexperienced and afraid, she slowly bent forward, small pink tongue leaving her mouth to lap at the head.

A tiny groan escaped Arthas as she began to take him into her mouth, loosening his hold slightly on her hair and instead cupping the back of her head with one great palm. Though she was somewhat clumsy and unskilled it still felt wonderful to have a pair of warm, wet lips sucking at his cock. It had been entirely too long, his work in Northrend had been far too important to waste time indulging in the mortal pleasures that he was forced to keep by remaining human.

She began to take in more of him, languorously bobbing her head over his length, water still leaking from her eyes. Her tongue was involuntarily fluttering against the underside of his penis as she choked back her sobs, and sudden tightening of his hand and intake of breath was enough to indicate that the Prince was enjoying himself.

Unable to hold himself back any longer, he grasped the sides of her face between both hands and began thrusting into her mouth, fucking her lips with abandon.

The girls' hand gripped his strong thigh to steady herself, gagging hopelessly as he rammed himself into her mouth, hitting the back of her throat with his head.

Grunting loudly and after only a few moments, his balls tightened and he pushed himself as far as her throat would allow to empty the accumulating essence.

She coughed and choked, drawing her head away as quickly as possible, getting splashed in the face with another burst of his seed.

Arthas growled as he came, feeling unsatisfied at both the quickness in which he finished and with the girl pulling away so quickly.

She sat down on the carpet, trying to wipe the sticky substance away from her cheek and chin. Her hair was disheveled and her eyes were red and puffy, looking defeated and miserable. “May I please go now, my lord?” She asked quietly.

Watching her there, covered in his cum, appearing dejected and lost, the Prince felt the stirrings come upon him again. He'd waited too long for this, and the thought of taking whatever he liked from this wretched kingdom, twisting and dominating and using it in whatever manner he pleased was so alluring that he was quickly becoming hard again. He didn't just want this girl to be unhappy, he wanted her broken.

“No...” he hissed at her, hauling the woman to her feet, the fear returning to her eyes. He dragged her over to the enormous bed and pushed her down, pinning her body into the mattress with his own muscled weight.

That's when she really began to fight, suddenly truly terrified of what this man was capable of, thrashing her legs wildly and attempting to claw his face. “No! No! Stay away from me!”

Snorting with annoyance, Arthas snatched up both of her wrists and pinned them down with one hand, using the other to begin tearing at her dress. The fabric ripped away from her chest with ease, and he began openly fondling her breasts, hefting their weight in his hand. Pinching the nipple roughly made her whimper before he closed his lips around it and sucked until she began to cry again.

“Stop fighting it, you little cunt.” He snarled in her face, taking hold of her throat to keep her head still.

The girl gazed up into his face, emotions coursing through her maddeningly. He was dangerous and maniacal and undeniably handsome and aggressive. Should she just lay back and let him have his way with her? He was the King, maybe she should even feel honored that he had chosen her to take to his bed. Perhaps she had ruined the whole encounter with her simpering and denial...

Before her thoughts could travel further, she was flipped over, face first into the bed. Her dress was pushed up past her waist, and her undergarments harshly torn and ripped away. She began to panic again, and tried to crawl away but was hoisted back as her hips were grabbed between two strong hands and her rear was positioned up in the air.

The bed creaked as Arthas shifted to his knees, breathing heavily as he admired the girl's ass, rubbing the two soft globes between his fingers. He heard her murmuring beneath him, her little hands holding on to the sheets desperately, waiting for him to penetrate her.

Taking hold of the base of his cock, he began to run his head around her tight, little opening, teasing both her and himself. He wanted this time to last, he wanted to revel in her discomfort, make her feel shameful and used. Maybe it would even be better knowing she couldn't help but enjoy his brutality.

Grinning at the thought, Arthas began to stroke her outer lips deliberately, flicking at the bundle of nerves in front, hearing the repressed gasp and the strangled half-moan half-sob that she tried to suppress.

Her pussy was glistening faintly, and he chuckled darkly. “It's good to know that you're enjoying yourself after all. You should take my royal cock with pride, whore.”

She whimpered something indecipherable, then began muttering again. “No no, please no, stop please...”

Taking hold of her hips firmly, Arthas began sliding his cock inside her wet entrance, achingly slow, snugly rubbing and touching every part of her inner walls. He sighed deeply as he pushed himself in all the way, the fine hairs at his crotch brushing against the pale skin of her behind.

Pulling back out, he reveled in the sight of his cock disappearing inside her pussy over and over again, the muscles pleasantly clenching against him every time he withdrew.

Her lips tugged and pulled, sucking his prick inside of her, warm and damp and tight. The girl was clinging to the bed, panting and crying, unable to withhold the cries escaping her as she was fucked, inexplicably aroused by his strong hands holding her in place and the length that was brushing against her most sensitive area.

His grunts and moans behind her were feral and gruff, and she wondered how long he would last as he had come only a few minutes before, spilling only a little from her unsatisfactory sucking. She pushed her face into the sheets to stifle the sounds of another cry.

Arthas suddenly shifted, pushing her hips down into the mattress and settling over her, never stopping his thrusting, fucking her harder as his weight rested against her back.

Forced to turn her head to the side so she could breath, an excited gasp escaped her as the new angle touched a sensitive spot within her pussy. Cool breath washed over her ear and a wicked snicker followed.

“How does that feel? Do you enjoy being used? I can tell you're liking it... unable to resist being pleasured by a King.”

The girl shook her head, crying out as he made another sharp thrust. Taking hold of her hair and pulling back hard enough to make her yelp Arthas ground his pelvis into hers, every new whimper of pain that escaped her making her muscles clench down harder on his cock.

Considering the possibilities and with a cruel grin, the Prince bit down harshly on the girl's shoulder, teeth just barely sinking into the delicate white flesh. She screamed and the resulting surge of heat in her pussy was incredible, a new bout of tears springing from her eyes as blood began to trickle from the wound.

Pulling himself back up to a kneeling position, Arthas began slapping the girl's ass with increasing force, each subsequent slap further tightening the grip on his dick. He groaned as she sobbed, the skin of her behind quickly reddening. Panting, and feeling the oncoming surge of his orgasm, he grabbed her hips and began ramming in and out desperately, the pull on his cock from her continuous wailing drawing him closer to the edge.

No longer hearing her cries, only feeling the tightening of muscles, the burn in his belly, that unmistakable wave of pleasure that was amounting in his groin, Arthas threw his head back in abandon, groaning out his climax, cumming with explosive force. He splashed her walls for what seemed like forever, coasting on the euphoric tingles that coursed through him.

Finally, panting and sweaty, he came down from his high, and heard the muffled whimpers of the woman he had just taken. Her ass was still high in the air, and her cunt was dripping his juices and hers out onto her thigh.

A rapping sounded at the door, and as Arthas was composing himself and lacing up his breeches, he whispered to her, low and dangerous. “Don't even think about moving from that position.”

Striding to the door and admitting entrance to one of his guards, the man's eyes involuntarily flickered to the half-naked woman lying so vulnerably on the bed, pussy glistening, dress bunched up past her waist.

The man quickly returned his attention back to his King and handed over the report he had intended to bring to his attention, but Arthas had seen the quick flash of interest in his captain's eyes.

With a smirk and tossing a glance back over his shoulder, Arthas took the report. “She's all yours if you want her.”

The man swallowed greedily, pupils darting back over to take another glimpse of the ripe figure.

Arthas turned to leave, but murmured lowly before he departed, “Just make sure you dispose of her when you are finished.”

The King walked lightly through his halls, enjoying the feel of control, power, complete and utter victory; they were all his to revel in, soak up. How very fitting it was to take all that Terenas had worked for over those long years only to turn it into the very thing he fought to destroy.

Arthas grinned as he walked, hands clasped casually behind his back, as another thought came to him.

The next order of business, was to contact Jaina.