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31_days2012-02-13 10:59 pm
the--ivorytower.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2012-02-13 10:59 pm
[Feb 13] [Warcraft] Fire and Ice 13/29
Title: Fire and Ice 13/29
Day/Theme: February 13: Love is the fire of life -- consuming, purifying.
Series: Warcraft
Character/Pairing: Kael'thas Sunstrider, Jaina Proudmoore (primarily); Arthas, various minor characters. Kael/Jaina, implied Arthas/Kael and Arthas/Jaina
Rating: PG
Previously: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
Author's Note: These fics will be primarily unbetaed, and then reposted on my personal journal at the end of the month.
~ * ~
I slept with Arthas Menethil. I slept with Jaina's boyfriend, Arthas Menethil. I slept with the future king of Lordaeron, Arthas--
"Kael, do you have a minute to--"
"What?!" Kael snapped, and immediately felt guilty. Jaina regarded him coolly, and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I was going to tell you that Arthas is returning to Lordaeron because he's finished his study term in Dalaran, and ask if you wanted to see him off with me, but it seems that you're not feeling sociable."
"Jaina--"
"I'll see you later, Kael." Jaina turned on heel and stalked away. Kael stood up, and reached out to her.
"Jaina, wait--" The door slammed shut as Jaina left, and Kael slumped down. "Damnit. Damnit." I didn't mean to snap. It's not your fault that I'm an idiot. I love you, don't leave me. Don't leave me for him.
It was happening, he could see it coming, and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't pretend to like Arthas. It seeped into every conversation and it was pushing Jaina away. Arthas had called what had happened between them a 'mistake', and as far as Kael was concerned, it was... a mistake that had repeated itself twice more, each occasion nearly getting them both caught. It was frightening, and in a way, thrilling. It reminded Kael of the games that he and Jaina had once played -- another thing he desperately missed, the games -- and it made him wonder if Jaina was playing games with Arthas now.
I miss it so much, the pirate-queen and her too willing captive, the prince's willful harem girl... Kael squeezed his eyes closed. We had so much fun, didn't we? Why do you need him? Why do I need him? And that was the damning realization. As rough as Arthas was, as clumsy and inexperienced as he was, Kael craved his touch. He could almost imagine the combination of the two of them: Arthas' rough, inexpert kisses with Jaina's unerring touch. He felt himself twitch, and hated himself even more. Dream on, that will never happen. Even if you were willing to admit to it, even if Jaina didn't despise you and Arthas didn't act disgusted the way he does after sex, it doesn't change the fact that we won't be able to keep it up. We'll be too busy, too preoccupied to be with one another. They may not even care.
The last thought planted a kernel of bitterness within him, and he stood up. "Hell with it. There's only one solution to my problems."
He needed to see a gnome about some chocolate.
~ * ~
"I'm worried about Kael," Jaina said, and her skin prickled at the annoyed sound Arthas made. "I mean it, he's been so... withdrawn lately, and he snapped at me when I went to see him."
"I thought you were mad at him," Arthas said, glancing over his luggage one last time.
"I am, and I'm not," Jaina said. "It's hard to explain. I love Kael. He's my best friend, and we've been close for years... but sometimes he can be frustrating and stubborn."
"Don't forget stuck up, superior, rude--"
"Stop it," Jaina said warningly. "I don't like it when he complains about you, so don't you start in on him, just because you're leaving. You both have your flaws."
"I apologize, Jaina. I know that I'm simply too perfect, that it makes me difficult to deal with--"
Jaina reached up and tugged at his ear. "You're being a brat." Her voice softened. "Kael has gone through a lot of heartbreak. His parents... I don't suppose he would have told you about them. They--"
"He did, actually," Arthas said. "When you had mage fever, we talked about... things."
"Things?" Jaina repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of things?"
Arthas shrugged. "Just... things. Look, Jaina, I really do need to go. It's been great seeing you again. It's been great being with you." He cupped her cheek. "Say you love me, kiss me goodbye?"
Jaina kissed him softly, and then a little more as his lips lingered. "I love you, Arthas. Go on."
Arthas smiled. "We may see each other again, and sooner than you think."
"More surprises?" Jaina asked. "You love your secrets, don't you?"
Arthas' reaction was a little too calm, a little too polished. "Perils of being royalty in Lordaeron, love. Always have something to hide."
Jaina shook her head in amusement and offered Arthas a final kiss before he went to the mages that were preparing to teleport him. He waved at her, and she waved back, watching him go. She sighed. Maybe Kael will calm down a little. We haven't had private time where he wasn't annoyed about Arthas in... well, it must be six months now.
She made her way out of the Citadel, pausing at the sight of the great, double doors leading to the inner chambers of the Archmages. Her fingers twitched a little as desire burned in her heart, tempered by patience and wisdom. I'll get there. I've worked hard for years, and I'll keep working hard until I get what I want. I still have a lot to learn. She turned away from it and headed off. If I'm right about how Kael is feeling, he won't be difficult to find. I just have to know where to look.
Jaina's path took her from the Citadel, past their favourite book store and down the way to Sweete's Sweets. She ducked inside and noted with some relief that the shelves were full. "Have you seen Kael?"
"I saw His Highness lurking outside, but he didn't come in, and then he left. That was about an hour ago. Lemon drop?"
"Thank you," Jaina said, and Yanni Sweete handed her a lemon drop, which she popped into her mouth. "Take care."
Yanni shook her head and went back to her duty on the counter. "Funny, the pair of them."
Well, he did come here, but he didn't stay, that's good, Jaina thought. The question is, where did he go? Maybe to Kylian? That was an easy enough thing to find out. She summoned an arcane messenger and spoke to it briefly. It flew off, and Jaina continued to walk. Could he be at the park? I know he goes to sulk there, it's unlikely that he went to the Purple Parlour alone, but if he's with Kylian--
An arcane messenger chirped at her shoulder and she clasped it in one hand. It flickered briefly. Jaina, it's Kylian. I haven't seen Kael lately. Did you check the candy store?
"Of course I did," Jaina muttered, rolling her eyes.
Noah hasn't seen him either. I don't think our other friends are in town. Maybe check the house again?
"The house, that makes sense," Jaina murmured. She sent Kylian a quick thank you and hurried off. It wasn't long before she found Kael, sitting out in front of his house, cheek cupped in one hand and looking forlorn. "What are you doing out here?"
Kael sighed. "I forgot my rune key. I wasn't thinking when I left the house."
And it's not as if you couldn't just disenchant your own wards and go inside if you really wanted to. Jaina sat down beside him. "And what were you not thinking about?"
Kael looked down at his hands. "I was not thinking that if you left me, I'd be alone. I don't have parents, not really, and while Kylian and my other friends are special and precious to me, I don't love them the way I love you. I was not thinking that I didn't want to be alone."
"Kael..." Jaina wrapped her arms around him. "I love you, and I've been worried about you. It frustrates me that you can't get along with Arthas, because I love him too. That doesn't mean I'm always going to take his side. It just means that we need to strike a balance."
"...I was not thinking, also, that you'd stopped caring," Kael said quietly. "That you had taken a side. He can offer you a lot of things that I simply can't."
"He can, but he isn't my best friend," Jaina replied. "He can't be my lab partner. He can't be my captive prince, or my captor prince, either." She reached over and pushed back a lock of his hair, caressing his face. "You're two very distinctive people whom I love for distinctive reasons. Think that, please."
Kael nodded once, and leaned in. Jaina closed the distance and kissed him back. "Can we go inside?"
Jaina smiled. "We definitely can."
~ * ~
Lordaeron's teleportation chamber was a large, open room, the floor etched with a drawing of the eastern lands and all of their kingdoms, each nation marked with their flags. Azeroth's gold and blue lion standard was bright and unsullied by the war that had devastated the kingdom, while Gilneas' sober and drab grey and gold seemed to have a film of dust on it. Violet Cross Island was bright, almost garish next to the white and silver of Lordaeron and the plain black that noted the regent-state of Alterac.
Arthas looked up, glancing at the walls. Carved into the walls like a banner were the names of other cities with similar teleportation chambers, each linked by magic to the others: Dalaran, Stormwind, Silvermoon, Ironforge, Gnomeregan. There were murals of each city, paying tribute to the alliance that held them together, woven by war but held together by peace. Despite himself, Arthas smiled warmly, and nodded to the two mages on duty.
The teleportation chamber was otherwise nearly empty. Nearly, save for a portly, balding man holding a ledger tightly to his side, dressed neatly in the manner of an upper servant, bearing a small pin on one of his lapels. Arthas smiled a little.
"Your Highness, your sister welcomes you home and regrets that she cannot meet with you personally. It seems an issue has come up with one of the Highlords and they needed royal oversight." The man bowed. "She will see you as soon as she's able."
"It was thoughtful of her to send you, Howard," Arthas replied, nodding to the man. "I know that she can so rarely do without you."
Howard bowed again. "Your Highness is too kind. I am happy to do whatever Her Highness requires of me, from my normal secretarial duties to ensuring your safe arrival. Allow me to escort you to your rooms."
"Of course," Arthas replied. Between the Silver Hand and Dalaran, I'd almost gotten used to not needing a minder. Calia's always been so paranoid, ever since... Arthas rubbed at his chest absently, and then waved off Howard's anxious look. The secretary indicated to one one of the guards that someone needed to come and pick up Arthas' luggage -- luggage Arthas could easily have carried himself -- and shepherded him along.
Whitestone Castle, Arthas' home for the first seventeen years of his life, both had and had not changed. Its walls had stood for seven hundred years or more, marking the triumph of the Menethil house. Where such a castle would show its age, or be draughty and cold, it had been modernized over time. At least one resourceful soul per generation -- Calia, in this case -- assigned servants to check everything from the walls to the floors for damage, or places where it could be improved. Arthas could see the inspections going on now, and nodded to the servants who paused in their work to bow or curtsey as they would.
Banners representing generations of Arthas' family hung on the walls. He paused at one, touching it briefly: here was Arthas' namesake, Arthanas Menethil, the man who had not merely taken Lordaeron's throne but began the war to expand its holdings. He smiled, remembering the song Calia had sung him about him. Exaggerated, of course, it's impossible for one man to have lived five hundred years, much less conducted a war that long, but it's a fun story, very bloody. His gaze swept to the opposite hanging with his sister's namesake. If Arthanas Menethil had started the war, Calilia Menethil had ended it, one of Lordaeron's handful of queens. It had been Calilia's word that had called representatives of Quel'thalas, Alterac, Gilneas, Stromgarde, and Ironforge together, offering to end the war if properly motivated by trade agreements. The opposing nations had done as she had bid eagerly, not realizing precisely what they had given up until the ink was already dry.
If I'm to be the sword of Lordaeron, Calia is surely its shield, Arthas thought, considering the parallels. Even though Arthanas and Calilia were born five hundred years apart, despite what the song would have me believe, we are just the same. I will go out and do battle with Lordaeron's enemies, and Calia will defend our home with wisdom and grace. Just as a good queen should.
Arthas frowned for a moment. Duty bid him to marry, to have a queen that wasn't his sister. She'll go... elsewhere. She'll marry, or she'll have the chance to travel. Perhaps she'll be an ambassador or a diplomat? I-- Arthas' chest twinged, and he rubbed at the scar on his chest again. I can't imagine what this place will be like... half the time I don't know what I'd do without her.
Arthas' pace picked up a little, ignoring the rest of the banners. Howard made a slight noise, and hurried after him. Arthas ignored his own chambers, and instead went to his sister's receiving chamber. Located just outside her office, it boasted comfortable, serious-looking couches and chairs, with reading material sprawled casually across the tables.
"Your Highness?" Howard asked.
"Make sure my things are taken to my room and unpacked," Arthas said. "I'll wait for Calia here."
Howard bowed and left him, and Arthas sat down, picking up one of the sheaves of paper. What have we-- ah, of course. She must have been expecting me to do this. In Arthas' hand was a report that was only sparingly familiar. Sparingly, because Arthas had only glanced through it briefly between his school work and his dates with Jaina. His sister, it had seemed, had realized that he was unlikely to get his assigned reading done, and was now offering it again, here. You know me so well, sister. I can't hide anything from you. He smiled a little, and focused on the task at hand. The report was equal parts dull and crucial, as everything his sister insisted on him reading was. It was slightly out of date now, but Calia wanted him to read it anyway.
Some kind of illness, hm, Arthas mused, sitting up a little. I'm no healer, of course, hopefully it's just a case of needing more healers assigned to inspecting the villages. He continued to read, considering the many different possible scenarios, and then focused on some of his sister's notes, written in her precise, neat handwriting. The reports indicate isolated incidents, but Calia's not sure. She wants the situation monitored over the next few years... she might be paranoid, but on the other hand, she might not be. Curious.
So absorbed was he in his reading that he didn't hear someone enter the room, and missed the way they cleared their throat lightly. "Arthas."
Arthas started. "Calia!" He set the papers aside and stood, striding over to her and hugging her tightly. His sister's gloved hands ran up his back a little, returning the embrace. He stood back and studied her critically. Brother and sister shared similar features: icy blue eyes and pale blonde hair, though Calia's was bound tightly in combs. It made her look oddly ageless, though Arthas knew quite well that his sister was ten years older than he was, and the only true mother he had ever known. No servant, no nurse or nanny, had given him as much as his elder sister. A sister who looks exhausted. "You need to rest more."
"Hello to you too," Calia murmured, letting her brother go so that she could study him in turn. "The mage-city has been good to you, I think."
A memory of rough kisses and gentle touches caused Arthas' cheeks to heat. "I've kept busy."
"I want to hear all about it," Calia urged. "Come." She offered him her hand, and Arthas took it, leading him to her private sitting room. This place was familiar to Arthas, and more than once as a child, he'd sat in one of these chairs, curled up, listening to his sister sing. Once he'd outgrown the nursery, that couch by the chair was where he'd practiced his writing and studied the books that Howard had brought them. He could remember his sister's earnest lessons, between her own duties, until she'd picked the right tutor.
He reached out, running a finger along the scar on one of the tables. That had been from his first toy sword, swung a little too enthusiastically. The servants had worked frantically to fix it at his behest, but in the end, Arthas had needed to confess tearfully to Calia why one of her tables was damaged. And of course, she was more worried that I'd been hurt than anything else. She's always worried that something has hurt me, ever since...
"Arthas," Calia said, turning away from the maid she was speaking to. "Share your thoughts."
"Why do you always worry so much about me?" Arthas asked abruptly, surprised by his own question. Calia smiled softly, and dismissed the maid.
"Because you're my brother and I love you," Calia replied. "I promised you that I'd always take care of you, and I will. I'm afraid I've never quite grown out of the habit of thinking you're a little boy."
That's not entirely true, Arthas thought. You don't treat me like a child or an idiot when it comes to politics or responsibility. "What about... people who don't have brothers or sisters?"
"Well... if all goes well, their parents are the ones that do the worrying about them," Calia said, studying her brother with curiosity. "Father worries about us, and... I'm sure that Mother is thinking of us too."
"I hope not," Arthas murmured. "What if... someone's parents don't worry about them? Because they either don't have them, or because they aren't... loving enough."
Calia steepled her fingers together. "Arthas, why don't you tell me what's really on your mind?"
"Do you know about Kael'thas' parents?"
"Yes." At Arthas' startled look, she smiled. "Anasterian has been less than what he could be for over sixty years. I have never known him to be the great king that was spoken of by others, but I've read his biography at length, and there is always gossip. Have you just learned of it?"
"Yes," Arthas said, shifting uncomfortably. "I didn't realize. He didn't mention it during the visit."
"How many people have you spoken to about Mother's retirement to Tyr's Hand?"
"Well... no one, really. I... did mention it, to Kael'thas, but that was recently." Arthas paused. "Oh."
"Yes, oh," Calia said. "You want to know what happened?" When Arthas nodded, Calia resettled herself. "Many elven women suffer from a disorder that causes a high fatality rate in childbirth, particularly amongst the nobility. Being monitored by a healer can prevent a fatality... if they know about the problem."
"Did Anasterian not check? Did he not care?"
"I believe he cared a great deal, and from what I have gathered, since Aindemalda's parents claimed there was nothing wrong with her, Anasterian felt that the fault lay with him... and with his son."
"That's not fair," Arthas snarled. "It's never a child's fault for being born."
"Life often stubbornly refuses to be fair," Calia murmured. "I do find it strange, though... how a healer could have missed such a thing. How the royal physician could have missed such a thing."
"You think the doctor lied?" Arthas asked. "But why?"
Calia tapped her fingers together. "You must ask a different question, Arthas. The question really is, who benefits from a dead woman, a motherless child, and a husband in deep mourning?"
"The elves' enemies, but I didn't think the trolls went in for subtlety. I thought they just... yelled obscenities and threw axes."
Calia smiled patiently. "This would be true if she'd been assassinated, but this death was, in its own way, natural. There's one piece of information that may help you figure out this mystery."
"What's that?"
"When a woman does die from this illness, her family is compensated for the loss. The higher ranked the woman is, the greater the compensation."
"...and she was the queen." Arthas frowned. "Of course, her family would be terribly upset if they weren't expecting... to..." His eyes widened. "They wouldn't. They couldn't. To their own daughter?!"
"To some, the lives of others are only valuable insofar as much as what people are willing to pay for them. Sometimes, that means... sacrifice."
Arthas stood abruptly and began to pace. "We have to tell Anasterian, so he can stop sulking and do his job. So he can be a father again--"
"Admirable, Arthas, but do you want to know why I haven't given this information to Kael'thas myself? Because I have no proof. Everything I've just said is speculation. Before you start accusing people of things, you need to prove it."
"How?" Arthas walked another circuit and his eyes widened. "Calia, I don't suppose..."
Calia smiled. "Intelligence agencies are not supposed to be used for personal reasons. They exist to help protect their nation of origin."
"We would be protecting Lordaeron," Arthas insisted. "You showed me those reports about the isolationist faction in Quel'thalas. The elves are valuable allies, we need them... and they need a king strong enough to stand up to them. This benefits everyone. Please?"
"Very well," Calia said. "I will contact them, but you must be patient, Arthas. It could take time."
"I don't think anyone's really going anywhere," Arthas replied, grinning. He leaned in and kissed his sister's cheeks. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now, I want to hear all about your time in Dalaran, especially about Jaina."
"Well..."
~ * ~
"Easy..." Jaina murmured. "Nice and slow."
"I know what I'm doing, Jaina," Kael replied, though his voice was equally soft, feeling more than a little breathless. So much could be wrong, there's so much risk.
"Easy does it..." Jaina repeated, and together, she and Kael eased--
"Kael, there's an emergency, we need to go."
Jaina swore softly, and Kael's hands jerked. In seconds, the delicately balanced potion had become nothing but a frothing mess. "Kylian, couldn't you at least--"
"No," Kylian replied bluntly. "You weren't answering pages--"
"Because I'm busy with an experiment!"
"--so I had to come right away because it can't wait." Kylian glanced over at Jaina briefly, and then looked back at Kael. "Arthas is on Quel'Danas. He's insisting on seeing your father."
"What?!" Kael cried. "How the hell did he get to Quel'Danas?!"
"Apparently he took a ship and sailed right in," Kylian said. "No purification, naturally. The Highguard are about this close to potentially starting a serious conflict because Arthas won't back off. He also won't explain, other than the fact that he wants to speak to your father... and it's about you."
Kael closed his eyes. If it's about the sex, I swear to--
"We need to go, before something does happen," Jaina said. She opened up a vial of neutralizer and poured it into the potion, rendering it grey, dull and inert. "I seem to recall that your father is... delicate."
Kael opened his mouth to protest, but closed it when Kylian nodded to Jaina. Just what I needed, a conspiracy that takes care of me at every turn. Despite the danger, Kael felt warm. Gathering his friends together, he teleported them to his residence on Quel'Danas.
"There's a purification ritual, but we frankly don't have the time," Kael said. He hurried through his house, discarding the robes he wore for experimentation and put on plain, simple robes. Kylian did the same, and offered a robe to Jaina. "I have no idea what Arthas could possibly have to say to my father about me," Kael muttered. "And naturally, he doesn't have any political savvy at all."
"Kael," Jaina said warningly, though she sighed. "I'm sure there's a good reason for this. There must be."
Kael shrugged, and led the pair of them outside. It wasn't difficult to find Arthas and his 'delegation', nor was it difficult to find General Dorozhand, within a hair's breadth of striking Arthas. "General. Arthas. What's the problem here?"
"Your Highness, this... person insists on breaking the sanctity of the Sunwell," the general began, his voice tight with controlled anger. "Humans aren't permitted on Quel'Danas."
"Hi," Jaina commented, and waved a little. Dorozhand looked at Jaina for several moments, then to Kael, looking decidedly betrayed. "We're here to help. Arthas, what's going on?"
"I know why it happened," Arthas said, ignoring the general entirely. "I know why Kael's mother died. Anasterian needs to know too."
Kael's hands balled into fists. "Is this some kind of a sick joke to you?! I thought that even if we couldn't get along, the least you could do was leave me the hell alone, Arthas. I don't want to hear your--"
"It wasn't your fault."
Kael's teeth closed with a snap.
"Of course it wasn't, Arthas. No one with any kind of sense believes it is," Jaina said, putting one hand on Kael's arm, and ignored the intake of breath from the general and his guards. "That doesn't explain why you're here."
"I have proof," Arthas said. "Calia helped me, but I found it. It wasn't hard to find because no one ever bothered to look."
I just assumed it was my fault, Kael thought numbly. The way Father acted, and my mother's family, it just seemed like... He shook his head. "Give it here, Arthas. I want to see."
Arthas held up the file, and with an air of great triumph, handed it to Kael. He quickly opened it, scanning through the hand-written notes and the careful copies of files. Here he found his mother's medical records, dating back to the time she was just a girl and had first been engaged to his father. Aindemalda suffers from maternal termination syndrome, and will require close monitoring after she becomes pregnant, after her marriage to Prince Anasterian, particularly now that he is in the direct line of succession. Her parents have been advised. "No," Kael whispered softly. "Then why..?"
"Keep looking," Arthas urged, something almost eager about it. Jaina came to stand beside Kael and read as he did.
There's a... contract here, between my mother's doctor and her parents... they... oh, by the Sunwell. Kael closed his eyes and Jaina embraced him tightly.
"We have to show your father," Jaina urged. "He needs to know. Maybe he'll finally snap out of this."
"There is no 'we'," Dorozhand snapped. "Humans aren't welcome on Quel'Danas, and they certainly aren't welcome on the Sunwell Plateau. Your Highness, your friends, no matter how well-intentioned, have to leave, and you need to perform the purification ritual--"
"Stand down, General," Kael said, clutching the papers to his chest. "They're coming with me, and we both know the Sunwell doesn't actually care if we purify ourselves or not. Let's go." With purpose, Kael strode towards the Plateau, catching Arthas' pure, smug look at the general and Jaina's anxious, excited expression. The only thing the handful of years Kael had been gone had done to his father's dwelling was add more statues and paintings. He could feel Jaina's horror and Arthas' complaints, but nothing could penetrate the steady loop of information going through his mind. My mother's death wasn't my fault. It was her parents, and that doctor. They did this on purpose and now they're going to pay for it.
As Kael had done nine years ago, he threw the door open. "Father!"
Anasterian had aged a little more since he'd last seen him. The Sunwell's flare had been unkind to both of them, and his father wore it more heavily; he was gaunter, and more tired. Kael recognized the hopeful, distant gaze that struck him, but this time Kael didn't have the urge to yell. Shel was speaking quietly to him, and looked up at Kael.
"Did you figure out what was going on with... oh, I see." He stood, and swept his gaze over the pair of humans, Kael, and finally his son. "This is unusual."
"It's worth the interruption, Shel, I swear," Kael said. "Look at this. Just look!"
Kael presented the documents with trembling hands, watching as Shel's eyes widened with each new piece of information, and then swearing. He went to Anasterian and spoke to him, quietly and urgently. For a moment, the King of Quel'thalas' gaze cleared, and then dulled again.
"It doesn't matter," Anasterian mumbled. "She's still dead."
Arthas bridled. "What do you mean, it doesn't matter--"
Faster than he'd imagined, Jaina crossed the sacred chamber, and Kael distantly recalled something she had said to him once. "Jaina, don't--"
The human sorceress' fist crashed into Anasterian's jaw, snapping his head back. "Shut your damn stupid gob for a mo'!" Jaina's eyes flashed with anger, and her accent had lapsed into that of the low-born dock rats she's played with. At that moment, Kael found her more beautiful than he ever had before, and from the look on Arthas' face, he had the exact same thought. Jaina was not yet done. "O' course it matters, ya addle-pated bastard! Ya sprog's still kickin'!"
Anasterian blinked slowly. "Say that again, in Common."
"Your son's still alive," Jaina said, struggling to rein in her temper and her accent. "Look at him, really look at him. He needs you. He's needed you for years, and you've ignored him because you blamed him for something that was never his fault to begin with. Now you have no reason to do so, and more than that, you need to do something, for him and for yourself. You need to take this seriously. Your wife is dead, and that's horrible. My brother told me about what it was like for my grandmother when my grandfather died. It was hard on her, particularly because she'd relied on him for so much, but that didn't mean she'd given up, and my grandfather died of natural causes. This isn't, not really. This was murder, and the people who killed your wife are running free, benefiting from her death. You can make this right again. Who knows how many others suffer like this, because no one realized. Are you going to just sit here and do nothing? Are you going to let them get away with this?"
"No," Anasterian whispered. "No, I..." He shook his head several times to clear it. "What's your name, girl?"
"Jaina Rhiannon Proudmoore."
"Proudmoore," Anasterian murmured. "Any relation to Amelia Proudmoore?"
"My grandmother," Jaina replied proudly.
"I thought so," Anasterian said. "I knew her, a long time ago, when we were both much younger. She was rude too, though less rude than you."
"She can't possibly be," Shel commented, grinning from ear to ear as Anasterian stood on his own, rubbing at his jaw. "She thought the Incident was funny."
"It wasn't, it was embarrassing," Anasterian grumbled. He looked to each of them, blinking at Arthas for a moment, and then his gaze came to rest on Kael. "My... son." He took a careful, shaking step towards him, and Kael took a step forward as well. They moved slowly, as if moving through water before Anasterian was within arm's reach. He looked his son over as if truly seeing him for the first time. "Kael'thas."
Kael put his hands on his father's shoulders for a moment, feeling his hands shake. "Yes, Father. It's me." I won't cry. Not in front of Arthas, of all people--
Slowly, Anasterian embraced his son. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Kael's resolve shattered, and holding his father, touching him for the first time since the day he was born, he began to weep.
~ * ~
"You'll both be guests here until someone can take you back in the morning," Kael said, smiling widely. He couldn't help it: once he'd finished crying, all he could do was smile at everyone and everything, even Arthas. Especially Arthas, if he hadn't stuck his nose in...
"We're in no hurry, I'm certain," Jaina said. "You'll be staying, won't you?"
"Yes, for some time," Kael admitted. "Father and I have a lot to catch up on, and he's promised to deal with things immediately, but that doesn't mean the nobles will be happy about it." His expression darkened. "The Solarian family was powerful, more so after my mother's death. They're going to regret selling their own blood for money."
"Of course they will," Jaina said, smiling and kissing his cheek softly. "Take your time. Did you want me to stay with you?"
Kael wavered a moment, and glanced briefly at Arthas. "Not tonight. I have a lot to take care of, and I wouldn't want to wake you. I'll see you off, though."
Jaina nodded. "Of course. I'll be in my room if there's anything either of you need."
I need you, Kael thought, and glanced at Arthas again. And... Jaina patted his hand, and he watched as she went to her room. Arthas watched her go, and then looked over at Kael for a moment. He nodded briefly, and went to his room, opening the door. Kael stopped it from closing with his shoulder, and slipped inside. "Arthas."
"What?"
"Thank you. You brought the truth to light about my mother and her family's crimes, and between you and Jaina, you've given my father new life. We have long lives ahead of us, it's entirely possible that we'll learn to be a family again."
"Good, maybe you won't sit around and sulk any more. It's annoying."
Kael took in a sharp breath. "Is that why you looked into this? So I'd stop sulking."
Arthas hesitated. "It wasn't right."
"No kidding."
"I mean it. Your father wasn't... insane. He wasn't addled. He was just sad. There was no reason for it. He should have been treating you better. That's all."
Oh yes, 'all', Kael thought, and moved in a little closer. "For nothing much, it still did me a great deal of good. I can... pay you back, at least a little."
"Pay me back, how exactly?" Arthas asked, suspicious, even as he moved a little closer to Kael.
"There are... more things that two men together, you know."
"I don't like men," Arthas insisted, even as he pulled Kael a little closer. "I don't."
"Of course not," Kael agreed, even as he rolled his eyes. Up close, Arthas made him want things and feel things that he hated. I've told Jaina I'm busy so I can let Arthas--
Arthas kissed Kael hard, his lips rough and eager, in almost perfect opposite to his words. Kael kissed him back, almost fighting him, almost fighting with him to kiss him more deeply. He reached back to push the door closed, and his mind didn't fully register the way the shadows shifted as it clicked shut.
~ * ~
Calia sipped her tea and tapped the letter on the tray thoughtfully. It bore the seal of Quel'thalas' royal family. Such letters were not precisely rare, but they were unusual. And in conjunction with what's just happened..?
"Does something trouble you, Your Highness?" Howard asked, standing at her elbow with a pile of reports. "That's the elves, isn't it?"
"It is, I believe it's Anasterian's personal seal," Calia replied. "Such has not been seen in my lifetime." She took her letter knife from the tray and inserted it into the envelope easily, cutting it open with a swift, deft motion. Her thin, lace gloves scraped on the paper as she shook the letter out and opened it. She smiled suddenly.
"Your Highness?"
Calia held up the letter and began to read aloud. "To Princess Calia Adelaine Menethil, I send greetings. We have not spoken in person before, but I have recognized your name and seal on a number of the documents that I have read recently, and believe this is best addressed to you, rather than your father. I have reason to believe that you are in part responsible for the recent news I have received regarding my beloved wife's passing and wished to thank you personally. I also have reason to believe that we should meet personally, at your earliest convenience. Yours sincerely, King Anasterian Sunstrider, the Phoenix's Gate."
"Well, it seems that Arthas' project was successful," Howard commented. "What luck."
"Luck, I don't believe, had anything to do with it," Calia said. "I believe what is at work here... is compassion."
"Compassion, Your Highness?"
"Yes, Howard. When one person cares for another so much that they wish to see them happier, at no concern as to the cost." Calia traced her finger along the seal. "It's a virtue."
"As you say, Your Highness. Tea?"
Calia nudged her cup forward, and smiled to herself again. Well done, Arthas.
[Feb 14]
Day/Theme: February 13: Love is the fire of life -- consuming, purifying.
Series: Warcraft
Character/Pairing: Kael'thas Sunstrider, Jaina Proudmoore (primarily); Arthas, various minor characters. Kael/Jaina, implied Arthas/Kael and Arthas/Jaina
Rating: PG
Previously: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12
Author's Note: These fics will be primarily unbetaed, and then reposted on my personal journal at the end of the month.
~ * ~
I slept with Arthas Menethil. I slept with Jaina's boyfriend, Arthas Menethil. I slept with the future king of Lordaeron, Arthas--
"Kael, do you have a minute to--"
"What?!" Kael snapped, and immediately felt guilty. Jaina regarded him coolly, and crossed her arms over her chest.
"I was going to tell you that Arthas is returning to Lordaeron because he's finished his study term in Dalaran, and ask if you wanted to see him off with me, but it seems that you're not feeling sociable."
"Jaina--"
"I'll see you later, Kael." Jaina turned on heel and stalked away. Kael stood up, and reached out to her.
"Jaina, wait--" The door slammed shut as Jaina left, and Kael slumped down. "Damnit. Damnit." I didn't mean to snap. It's not your fault that I'm an idiot. I love you, don't leave me. Don't leave me for him.
It was happening, he could see it coming, and there was nothing he could do. He couldn't pretend to like Arthas. It seeped into every conversation and it was pushing Jaina away. Arthas had called what had happened between them a 'mistake', and as far as Kael was concerned, it was... a mistake that had repeated itself twice more, each occasion nearly getting them both caught. It was frightening, and in a way, thrilling. It reminded Kael of the games that he and Jaina had once played -- another thing he desperately missed, the games -- and it made him wonder if Jaina was playing games with Arthas now.
I miss it so much, the pirate-queen and her too willing captive, the prince's willful harem girl... Kael squeezed his eyes closed. We had so much fun, didn't we? Why do you need him? Why do I need him? And that was the damning realization. As rough as Arthas was, as clumsy and inexperienced as he was, Kael craved his touch. He could almost imagine the combination of the two of them: Arthas' rough, inexpert kisses with Jaina's unerring touch. He felt himself twitch, and hated himself even more. Dream on, that will never happen. Even if you were willing to admit to it, even if Jaina didn't despise you and Arthas didn't act disgusted the way he does after sex, it doesn't change the fact that we won't be able to keep it up. We'll be too busy, too preoccupied to be with one another. They may not even care.
The last thought planted a kernel of bitterness within him, and he stood up. "Hell with it. There's only one solution to my problems."
He needed to see a gnome about some chocolate.
~ * ~
"I'm worried about Kael," Jaina said, and her skin prickled at the annoyed sound Arthas made. "I mean it, he's been so... withdrawn lately, and he snapped at me when I went to see him."
"I thought you were mad at him," Arthas said, glancing over his luggage one last time.
"I am, and I'm not," Jaina said. "It's hard to explain. I love Kael. He's my best friend, and we've been close for years... but sometimes he can be frustrating and stubborn."
"Don't forget stuck up, superior, rude--"
"Stop it," Jaina said warningly. "I don't like it when he complains about you, so don't you start in on him, just because you're leaving. You both have your flaws."
"I apologize, Jaina. I know that I'm simply too perfect, that it makes me difficult to deal with--"
Jaina reached up and tugged at his ear. "You're being a brat." Her voice softened. "Kael has gone through a lot of heartbreak. His parents... I don't suppose he would have told you about them. They--"
"He did, actually," Arthas said. "When you had mage fever, we talked about... things."
"Things?" Jaina repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of things?"
Arthas shrugged. "Just... things. Look, Jaina, I really do need to go. It's been great seeing you again. It's been great being with you." He cupped her cheek. "Say you love me, kiss me goodbye?"
Jaina kissed him softly, and then a little more as his lips lingered. "I love you, Arthas. Go on."
Arthas smiled. "We may see each other again, and sooner than you think."
"More surprises?" Jaina asked. "You love your secrets, don't you?"
Arthas' reaction was a little too calm, a little too polished. "Perils of being royalty in Lordaeron, love. Always have something to hide."
Jaina shook her head in amusement and offered Arthas a final kiss before he went to the mages that were preparing to teleport him. He waved at her, and she waved back, watching him go. She sighed. Maybe Kael will calm down a little. We haven't had private time where he wasn't annoyed about Arthas in... well, it must be six months now.
She made her way out of the Citadel, pausing at the sight of the great, double doors leading to the inner chambers of the Archmages. Her fingers twitched a little as desire burned in her heart, tempered by patience and wisdom. I'll get there. I've worked hard for years, and I'll keep working hard until I get what I want. I still have a lot to learn. She turned away from it and headed off. If I'm right about how Kael is feeling, he won't be difficult to find. I just have to know where to look.
Jaina's path took her from the Citadel, past their favourite book store and down the way to Sweete's Sweets. She ducked inside and noted with some relief that the shelves were full. "Have you seen Kael?"
"I saw His Highness lurking outside, but he didn't come in, and then he left. That was about an hour ago. Lemon drop?"
"Thank you," Jaina said, and Yanni Sweete handed her a lemon drop, which she popped into her mouth. "Take care."
Yanni shook her head and went back to her duty on the counter. "Funny, the pair of them."
Well, he did come here, but he didn't stay, that's good, Jaina thought. The question is, where did he go? Maybe to Kylian? That was an easy enough thing to find out. She summoned an arcane messenger and spoke to it briefly. It flew off, and Jaina continued to walk. Could he be at the park? I know he goes to sulk there, it's unlikely that he went to the Purple Parlour alone, but if he's with Kylian--
An arcane messenger chirped at her shoulder and she clasped it in one hand. It flickered briefly. Jaina, it's Kylian. I haven't seen Kael lately. Did you check the candy store?
"Of course I did," Jaina muttered, rolling her eyes.
Noah hasn't seen him either. I don't think our other friends are in town. Maybe check the house again?
"The house, that makes sense," Jaina murmured. She sent Kylian a quick thank you and hurried off. It wasn't long before she found Kael, sitting out in front of his house, cheek cupped in one hand and looking forlorn. "What are you doing out here?"
Kael sighed. "I forgot my rune key. I wasn't thinking when I left the house."
And it's not as if you couldn't just disenchant your own wards and go inside if you really wanted to. Jaina sat down beside him. "And what were you not thinking about?"
Kael looked down at his hands. "I was not thinking that if you left me, I'd be alone. I don't have parents, not really, and while Kylian and my other friends are special and precious to me, I don't love them the way I love you. I was not thinking that I didn't want to be alone."
"Kael..." Jaina wrapped her arms around him. "I love you, and I've been worried about you. It frustrates me that you can't get along with Arthas, because I love him too. That doesn't mean I'm always going to take his side. It just means that we need to strike a balance."
"...I was not thinking, also, that you'd stopped caring," Kael said quietly. "That you had taken a side. He can offer you a lot of things that I simply can't."
"He can, but he isn't my best friend," Jaina replied. "He can't be my lab partner. He can't be my captive prince, or my captor prince, either." She reached over and pushed back a lock of his hair, caressing his face. "You're two very distinctive people whom I love for distinctive reasons. Think that, please."
Kael nodded once, and leaned in. Jaina closed the distance and kissed him back. "Can we go inside?"
Jaina smiled. "We definitely can."
~ * ~
Lordaeron's teleportation chamber was a large, open room, the floor etched with a drawing of the eastern lands and all of their kingdoms, each nation marked with their flags. Azeroth's gold and blue lion standard was bright and unsullied by the war that had devastated the kingdom, while Gilneas' sober and drab grey and gold seemed to have a film of dust on it. Violet Cross Island was bright, almost garish next to the white and silver of Lordaeron and the plain black that noted the regent-state of Alterac.
Arthas looked up, glancing at the walls. Carved into the walls like a banner were the names of other cities with similar teleportation chambers, each linked by magic to the others: Dalaran, Stormwind, Silvermoon, Ironforge, Gnomeregan. There were murals of each city, paying tribute to the alliance that held them together, woven by war but held together by peace. Despite himself, Arthas smiled warmly, and nodded to the two mages on duty.
The teleportation chamber was otherwise nearly empty. Nearly, save for a portly, balding man holding a ledger tightly to his side, dressed neatly in the manner of an upper servant, bearing a small pin on one of his lapels. Arthas smiled a little.
"Your Highness, your sister welcomes you home and regrets that she cannot meet with you personally. It seems an issue has come up with one of the Highlords and they needed royal oversight." The man bowed. "She will see you as soon as she's able."
"It was thoughtful of her to send you, Howard," Arthas replied, nodding to the man. "I know that she can so rarely do without you."
Howard bowed again. "Your Highness is too kind. I am happy to do whatever Her Highness requires of me, from my normal secretarial duties to ensuring your safe arrival. Allow me to escort you to your rooms."
"Of course," Arthas replied. Between the Silver Hand and Dalaran, I'd almost gotten used to not needing a minder. Calia's always been so paranoid, ever since... Arthas rubbed at his chest absently, and then waved off Howard's anxious look. The secretary indicated to one one of the guards that someone needed to come and pick up Arthas' luggage -- luggage Arthas could easily have carried himself -- and shepherded him along.
Whitestone Castle, Arthas' home for the first seventeen years of his life, both had and had not changed. Its walls had stood for seven hundred years or more, marking the triumph of the Menethil house. Where such a castle would show its age, or be draughty and cold, it had been modernized over time. At least one resourceful soul per generation -- Calia, in this case -- assigned servants to check everything from the walls to the floors for damage, or places where it could be improved. Arthas could see the inspections going on now, and nodded to the servants who paused in their work to bow or curtsey as they would.
Banners representing generations of Arthas' family hung on the walls. He paused at one, touching it briefly: here was Arthas' namesake, Arthanas Menethil, the man who had not merely taken Lordaeron's throne but began the war to expand its holdings. He smiled, remembering the song Calia had sung him about him. Exaggerated, of course, it's impossible for one man to have lived five hundred years, much less conducted a war that long, but it's a fun story, very bloody. His gaze swept to the opposite hanging with his sister's namesake. If Arthanas Menethil had started the war, Calilia Menethil had ended it, one of Lordaeron's handful of queens. It had been Calilia's word that had called representatives of Quel'thalas, Alterac, Gilneas, Stromgarde, and Ironforge together, offering to end the war if properly motivated by trade agreements. The opposing nations had done as she had bid eagerly, not realizing precisely what they had given up until the ink was already dry.
If I'm to be the sword of Lordaeron, Calia is surely its shield, Arthas thought, considering the parallels. Even though Arthanas and Calilia were born five hundred years apart, despite what the song would have me believe, we are just the same. I will go out and do battle with Lordaeron's enemies, and Calia will defend our home with wisdom and grace. Just as a good queen should.
Arthas frowned for a moment. Duty bid him to marry, to have a queen that wasn't his sister. She'll go... elsewhere. She'll marry, or she'll have the chance to travel. Perhaps she'll be an ambassador or a diplomat? I-- Arthas' chest twinged, and he rubbed at the scar on his chest again. I can't imagine what this place will be like... half the time I don't know what I'd do without her.
Arthas' pace picked up a little, ignoring the rest of the banners. Howard made a slight noise, and hurried after him. Arthas ignored his own chambers, and instead went to his sister's receiving chamber. Located just outside her office, it boasted comfortable, serious-looking couches and chairs, with reading material sprawled casually across the tables.
"Your Highness?" Howard asked.
"Make sure my things are taken to my room and unpacked," Arthas said. "I'll wait for Calia here."
Howard bowed and left him, and Arthas sat down, picking up one of the sheaves of paper. What have we-- ah, of course. She must have been expecting me to do this. In Arthas' hand was a report that was only sparingly familiar. Sparingly, because Arthas had only glanced through it briefly between his school work and his dates with Jaina. His sister, it had seemed, had realized that he was unlikely to get his assigned reading done, and was now offering it again, here. You know me so well, sister. I can't hide anything from you. He smiled a little, and focused on the task at hand. The report was equal parts dull and crucial, as everything his sister insisted on him reading was. It was slightly out of date now, but Calia wanted him to read it anyway.
Some kind of illness, hm, Arthas mused, sitting up a little. I'm no healer, of course, hopefully it's just a case of needing more healers assigned to inspecting the villages. He continued to read, considering the many different possible scenarios, and then focused on some of his sister's notes, written in her precise, neat handwriting. The reports indicate isolated incidents, but Calia's not sure. She wants the situation monitored over the next few years... she might be paranoid, but on the other hand, she might not be. Curious.
So absorbed was he in his reading that he didn't hear someone enter the room, and missed the way they cleared their throat lightly. "Arthas."
Arthas started. "Calia!" He set the papers aside and stood, striding over to her and hugging her tightly. His sister's gloved hands ran up his back a little, returning the embrace. He stood back and studied her critically. Brother and sister shared similar features: icy blue eyes and pale blonde hair, though Calia's was bound tightly in combs. It made her look oddly ageless, though Arthas knew quite well that his sister was ten years older than he was, and the only true mother he had ever known. No servant, no nurse or nanny, had given him as much as his elder sister. A sister who looks exhausted. "You need to rest more."
"Hello to you too," Calia murmured, letting her brother go so that she could study him in turn. "The mage-city has been good to you, I think."
A memory of rough kisses and gentle touches caused Arthas' cheeks to heat. "I've kept busy."
"I want to hear all about it," Calia urged. "Come." She offered him her hand, and Arthas took it, leading him to her private sitting room. This place was familiar to Arthas, and more than once as a child, he'd sat in one of these chairs, curled up, listening to his sister sing. Once he'd outgrown the nursery, that couch by the chair was where he'd practiced his writing and studied the books that Howard had brought them. He could remember his sister's earnest lessons, between her own duties, until she'd picked the right tutor.
He reached out, running a finger along the scar on one of the tables. That had been from his first toy sword, swung a little too enthusiastically. The servants had worked frantically to fix it at his behest, but in the end, Arthas had needed to confess tearfully to Calia why one of her tables was damaged. And of course, she was more worried that I'd been hurt than anything else. She's always worried that something has hurt me, ever since...
"Arthas," Calia said, turning away from the maid she was speaking to. "Share your thoughts."
"Why do you always worry so much about me?" Arthas asked abruptly, surprised by his own question. Calia smiled softly, and dismissed the maid.
"Because you're my brother and I love you," Calia replied. "I promised you that I'd always take care of you, and I will. I'm afraid I've never quite grown out of the habit of thinking you're a little boy."
That's not entirely true, Arthas thought. You don't treat me like a child or an idiot when it comes to politics or responsibility. "What about... people who don't have brothers or sisters?"
"Well... if all goes well, their parents are the ones that do the worrying about them," Calia said, studying her brother with curiosity. "Father worries about us, and... I'm sure that Mother is thinking of us too."
"I hope not," Arthas murmured. "What if... someone's parents don't worry about them? Because they either don't have them, or because they aren't... loving enough."
Calia steepled her fingers together. "Arthas, why don't you tell me what's really on your mind?"
"Do you know about Kael'thas' parents?"
"Yes." At Arthas' startled look, she smiled. "Anasterian has been less than what he could be for over sixty years. I have never known him to be the great king that was spoken of by others, but I've read his biography at length, and there is always gossip. Have you just learned of it?"
"Yes," Arthas said, shifting uncomfortably. "I didn't realize. He didn't mention it during the visit."
"How many people have you spoken to about Mother's retirement to Tyr's Hand?"
"Well... no one, really. I... did mention it, to Kael'thas, but that was recently." Arthas paused. "Oh."
"Yes, oh," Calia said. "You want to know what happened?" When Arthas nodded, Calia resettled herself. "Many elven women suffer from a disorder that causes a high fatality rate in childbirth, particularly amongst the nobility. Being monitored by a healer can prevent a fatality... if they know about the problem."
"Did Anasterian not check? Did he not care?"
"I believe he cared a great deal, and from what I have gathered, since Aindemalda's parents claimed there was nothing wrong with her, Anasterian felt that the fault lay with him... and with his son."
"That's not fair," Arthas snarled. "It's never a child's fault for being born."
"Life often stubbornly refuses to be fair," Calia murmured. "I do find it strange, though... how a healer could have missed such a thing. How the royal physician could have missed such a thing."
"You think the doctor lied?" Arthas asked. "But why?"
Calia tapped her fingers together. "You must ask a different question, Arthas. The question really is, who benefits from a dead woman, a motherless child, and a husband in deep mourning?"
"The elves' enemies, but I didn't think the trolls went in for subtlety. I thought they just... yelled obscenities and threw axes."
Calia smiled patiently. "This would be true if she'd been assassinated, but this death was, in its own way, natural. There's one piece of information that may help you figure out this mystery."
"What's that?"
"When a woman does die from this illness, her family is compensated for the loss. The higher ranked the woman is, the greater the compensation."
"...and she was the queen." Arthas frowned. "Of course, her family would be terribly upset if they weren't expecting... to..." His eyes widened. "They wouldn't. They couldn't. To their own daughter?!"
"To some, the lives of others are only valuable insofar as much as what people are willing to pay for them. Sometimes, that means... sacrifice."
Arthas stood abruptly and began to pace. "We have to tell Anasterian, so he can stop sulking and do his job. So he can be a father again--"
"Admirable, Arthas, but do you want to know why I haven't given this information to Kael'thas myself? Because I have no proof. Everything I've just said is speculation. Before you start accusing people of things, you need to prove it."
"How?" Arthas walked another circuit and his eyes widened. "Calia, I don't suppose..."
Calia smiled. "Intelligence agencies are not supposed to be used for personal reasons. They exist to help protect their nation of origin."
"We would be protecting Lordaeron," Arthas insisted. "You showed me those reports about the isolationist faction in Quel'thalas. The elves are valuable allies, we need them... and they need a king strong enough to stand up to them. This benefits everyone. Please?"
"Very well," Calia said. "I will contact them, but you must be patient, Arthas. It could take time."
"I don't think anyone's really going anywhere," Arthas replied, grinning. He leaned in and kissed his sister's cheeks. "Thank you."
"You're welcome. Now, I want to hear all about your time in Dalaran, especially about Jaina."
"Well..."
~ * ~
"Easy..." Jaina murmured. "Nice and slow."
"I know what I'm doing, Jaina," Kael replied, though his voice was equally soft, feeling more than a little breathless. So much could be wrong, there's so much risk.
"Easy does it..." Jaina repeated, and together, she and Kael eased--
"Kael, there's an emergency, we need to go."
Jaina swore softly, and Kael's hands jerked. In seconds, the delicately balanced potion had become nothing but a frothing mess. "Kylian, couldn't you at least--"
"No," Kylian replied bluntly. "You weren't answering pages--"
"Because I'm busy with an experiment!"
"--so I had to come right away because it can't wait." Kylian glanced over at Jaina briefly, and then looked back at Kael. "Arthas is on Quel'Danas. He's insisting on seeing your father."
"What?!" Kael cried. "How the hell did he get to Quel'Danas?!"
"Apparently he took a ship and sailed right in," Kylian said. "No purification, naturally. The Highguard are about this close to potentially starting a serious conflict because Arthas won't back off. He also won't explain, other than the fact that he wants to speak to your father... and it's about you."
Kael closed his eyes. If it's about the sex, I swear to--
"We need to go, before something does happen," Jaina said. She opened up a vial of neutralizer and poured it into the potion, rendering it grey, dull and inert. "I seem to recall that your father is... delicate."
Kael opened his mouth to protest, but closed it when Kylian nodded to Jaina. Just what I needed, a conspiracy that takes care of me at every turn. Despite the danger, Kael felt warm. Gathering his friends together, he teleported them to his residence on Quel'Danas.
"There's a purification ritual, but we frankly don't have the time," Kael said. He hurried through his house, discarding the robes he wore for experimentation and put on plain, simple robes. Kylian did the same, and offered a robe to Jaina. "I have no idea what Arthas could possibly have to say to my father about me," Kael muttered. "And naturally, he doesn't have any political savvy at all."
"Kael," Jaina said warningly, though she sighed. "I'm sure there's a good reason for this. There must be."
Kael shrugged, and led the pair of them outside. It wasn't difficult to find Arthas and his 'delegation', nor was it difficult to find General Dorozhand, within a hair's breadth of striking Arthas. "General. Arthas. What's the problem here?"
"Your Highness, this... person insists on breaking the sanctity of the Sunwell," the general began, his voice tight with controlled anger. "Humans aren't permitted on Quel'Danas."
"Hi," Jaina commented, and waved a little. Dorozhand looked at Jaina for several moments, then to Kael, looking decidedly betrayed. "We're here to help. Arthas, what's going on?"
"I know why it happened," Arthas said, ignoring the general entirely. "I know why Kael's mother died. Anasterian needs to know too."
Kael's hands balled into fists. "Is this some kind of a sick joke to you?! I thought that even if we couldn't get along, the least you could do was leave me the hell alone, Arthas. I don't want to hear your--"
"It wasn't your fault."
Kael's teeth closed with a snap.
"Of course it wasn't, Arthas. No one with any kind of sense believes it is," Jaina said, putting one hand on Kael's arm, and ignored the intake of breath from the general and his guards. "That doesn't explain why you're here."
"I have proof," Arthas said. "Calia helped me, but I found it. It wasn't hard to find because no one ever bothered to look."
I just assumed it was my fault, Kael thought numbly. The way Father acted, and my mother's family, it just seemed like... He shook his head. "Give it here, Arthas. I want to see."
Arthas held up the file, and with an air of great triumph, handed it to Kael. He quickly opened it, scanning through the hand-written notes and the careful copies of files. Here he found his mother's medical records, dating back to the time she was just a girl and had first been engaged to his father. Aindemalda suffers from maternal termination syndrome, and will require close monitoring after she becomes pregnant, after her marriage to Prince Anasterian, particularly now that he is in the direct line of succession. Her parents have been advised. "No," Kael whispered softly. "Then why..?"
"Keep looking," Arthas urged, something almost eager about it. Jaina came to stand beside Kael and read as he did.
There's a... contract here, between my mother's doctor and her parents... they... oh, by the Sunwell. Kael closed his eyes and Jaina embraced him tightly.
"We have to show your father," Jaina urged. "He needs to know. Maybe he'll finally snap out of this."
"There is no 'we'," Dorozhand snapped. "Humans aren't welcome on Quel'Danas, and they certainly aren't welcome on the Sunwell Plateau. Your Highness, your friends, no matter how well-intentioned, have to leave, and you need to perform the purification ritual--"
"Stand down, General," Kael said, clutching the papers to his chest. "They're coming with me, and we both know the Sunwell doesn't actually care if we purify ourselves or not. Let's go." With purpose, Kael strode towards the Plateau, catching Arthas' pure, smug look at the general and Jaina's anxious, excited expression. The only thing the handful of years Kael had been gone had done to his father's dwelling was add more statues and paintings. He could feel Jaina's horror and Arthas' complaints, but nothing could penetrate the steady loop of information going through his mind. My mother's death wasn't my fault. It was her parents, and that doctor. They did this on purpose and now they're going to pay for it.
As Kael had done nine years ago, he threw the door open. "Father!"
Anasterian had aged a little more since he'd last seen him. The Sunwell's flare had been unkind to both of them, and his father wore it more heavily; he was gaunter, and more tired. Kael recognized the hopeful, distant gaze that struck him, but this time Kael didn't have the urge to yell. Shel was speaking quietly to him, and looked up at Kael.
"Did you figure out what was going on with... oh, I see." He stood, and swept his gaze over the pair of humans, Kael, and finally his son. "This is unusual."
"It's worth the interruption, Shel, I swear," Kael said. "Look at this. Just look!"
Kael presented the documents with trembling hands, watching as Shel's eyes widened with each new piece of information, and then swearing. He went to Anasterian and spoke to him, quietly and urgently. For a moment, the King of Quel'thalas' gaze cleared, and then dulled again.
"It doesn't matter," Anasterian mumbled. "She's still dead."
Arthas bridled. "What do you mean, it doesn't matter--"
Faster than he'd imagined, Jaina crossed the sacred chamber, and Kael distantly recalled something she had said to him once. "Jaina, don't--"
The human sorceress' fist crashed into Anasterian's jaw, snapping his head back. "Shut your damn stupid gob for a mo'!" Jaina's eyes flashed with anger, and her accent had lapsed into that of the low-born dock rats she's played with. At that moment, Kael found her more beautiful than he ever had before, and from the look on Arthas' face, he had the exact same thought. Jaina was not yet done. "O' course it matters, ya addle-pated bastard! Ya sprog's still kickin'!"
Anasterian blinked slowly. "Say that again, in Common."
"Your son's still alive," Jaina said, struggling to rein in her temper and her accent. "Look at him, really look at him. He needs you. He's needed you for years, and you've ignored him because you blamed him for something that was never his fault to begin with. Now you have no reason to do so, and more than that, you need to do something, for him and for yourself. You need to take this seriously. Your wife is dead, and that's horrible. My brother told me about what it was like for my grandmother when my grandfather died. It was hard on her, particularly because she'd relied on him for so much, but that didn't mean she'd given up, and my grandfather died of natural causes. This isn't, not really. This was murder, and the people who killed your wife are running free, benefiting from her death. You can make this right again. Who knows how many others suffer like this, because no one realized. Are you going to just sit here and do nothing? Are you going to let them get away with this?"
"No," Anasterian whispered. "No, I..." He shook his head several times to clear it. "What's your name, girl?"
"Jaina Rhiannon Proudmoore."
"Proudmoore," Anasterian murmured. "Any relation to Amelia Proudmoore?"
"My grandmother," Jaina replied proudly.
"I thought so," Anasterian said. "I knew her, a long time ago, when we were both much younger. She was rude too, though less rude than you."
"She can't possibly be," Shel commented, grinning from ear to ear as Anasterian stood on his own, rubbing at his jaw. "She thought the Incident was funny."
"It wasn't, it was embarrassing," Anasterian grumbled. He looked to each of them, blinking at Arthas for a moment, and then his gaze came to rest on Kael. "My... son." He took a careful, shaking step towards him, and Kael took a step forward as well. They moved slowly, as if moving through water before Anasterian was within arm's reach. He looked his son over as if truly seeing him for the first time. "Kael'thas."
Kael put his hands on his father's shoulders for a moment, feeling his hands shake. "Yes, Father. It's me." I won't cry. Not in front of Arthas, of all people--
Slowly, Anasterian embraced his son. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."
Kael's resolve shattered, and holding his father, touching him for the first time since the day he was born, he began to weep.
~ * ~
"You'll both be guests here until someone can take you back in the morning," Kael said, smiling widely. He couldn't help it: once he'd finished crying, all he could do was smile at everyone and everything, even Arthas. Especially Arthas, if he hadn't stuck his nose in...
"We're in no hurry, I'm certain," Jaina said. "You'll be staying, won't you?"
"Yes, for some time," Kael admitted. "Father and I have a lot to catch up on, and he's promised to deal with things immediately, but that doesn't mean the nobles will be happy about it." His expression darkened. "The Solarian family was powerful, more so after my mother's death. They're going to regret selling their own blood for money."
"Of course they will," Jaina said, smiling and kissing his cheek softly. "Take your time. Did you want me to stay with you?"
Kael wavered a moment, and glanced briefly at Arthas. "Not tonight. I have a lot to take care of, and I wouldn't want to wake you. I'll see you off, though."
Jaina nodded. "Of course. I'll be in my room if there's anything either of you need."
I need you, Kael thought, and glanced at Arthas again. And... Jaina patted his hand, and he watched as she went to her room. Arthas watched her go, and then looked over at Kael for a moment. He nodded briefly, and went to his room, opening the door. Kael stopped it from closing with his shoulder, and slipped inside. "Arthas."
"What?"
"Thank you. You brought the truth to light about my mother and her family's crimes, and between you and Jaina, you've given my father new life. We have long lives ahead of us, it's entirely possible that we'll learn to be a family again."
"Good, maybe you won't sit around and sulk any more. It's annoying."
Kael took in a sharp breath. "Is that why you looked into this? So I'd stop sulking."
Arthas hesitated. "It wasn't right."
"No kidding."
"I mean it. Your father wasn't... insane. He wasn't addled. He was just sad. There was no reason for it. He should have been treating you better. That's all."
Oh yes, 'all', Kael thought, and moved in a little closer. "For nothing much, it still did me a great deal of good. I can... pay you back, at least a little."
"Pay me back, how exactly?" Arthas asked, suspicious, even as he moved a little closer to Kael.
"There are... more things that two men together, you know."
"I don't like men," Arthas insisted, even as he pulled Kael a little closer. "I don't."
"Of course not," Kael agreed, even as he rolled his eyes. Up close, Arthas made him want things and feel things that he hated. I've told Jaina I'm busy so I can let Arthas--
Arthas kissed Kael hard, his lips rough and eager, in almost perfect opposite to his words. Kael kissed him back, almost fighting him, almost fighting with him to kiss him more deeply. He reached back to push the door closed, and his mind didn't fully register the way the shadows shifted as it clicked shut.
~ * ~
Calia sipped her tea and tapped the letter on the tray thoughtfully. It bore the seal of Quel'thalas' royal family. Such letters were not precisely rare, but they were unusual. And in conjunction with what's just happened..?
"Does something trouble you, Your Highness?" Howard asked, standing at her elbow with a pile of reports. "That's the elves, isn't it?"
"It is, I believe it's Anasterian's personal seal," Calia replied. "Such has not been seen in my lifetime." She took her letter knife from the tray and inserted it into the envelope easily, cutting it open with a swift, deft motion. Her thin, lace gloves scraped on the paper as she shook the letter out and opened it. She smiled suddenly.
"Your Highness?"
Calia held up the letter and began to read aloud. "To Princess Calia Adelaine Menethil, I send greetings. We have not spoken in person before, but I have recognized your name and seal on a number of the documents that I have read recently, and believe this is best addressed to you, rather than your father. I have reason to believe that you are in part responsible for the recent news I have received regarding my beloved wife's passing and wished to thank you personally. I also have reason to believe that we should meet personally, at your earliest convenience. Yours sincerely, King Anasterian Sunstrider, the Phoenix's Gate."
"Well, it seems that Arthas' project was successful," Howard commented. "What luck."
"Luck, I don't believe, had anything to do with it," Calia said. "I believe what is at work here... is compassion."
"Compassion, Your Highness?"
"Yes, Howard. When one person cares for another so much that they wish to see them happier, at no concern as to the cost." Calia traced her finger along the seal. "It's a virtue."
"As you say, Your Highness. Tea?"
Calia nudged her cup forward, and smiled to herself again. Well done, Arthas.
[Feb 14]