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peace or else

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Northrend

Arthus had fucked up. Really fucked up. It was bad enough the bloody banshee had kept fighting him. But then, not content with one woman who he could barely control, he tracked Jaina down to Theramore and forced her to surrender to him or watch her city die. He had kept his world and withdrawn, taking her back to Ice crown, where he killed her and raised her as a lich. And that was when he knew without a doubt he had really fucked up. Not only had she proven impossible to con-trol but she had weakened his control over Sylvanas and allowed her to reclaim her frozen corpse and flee with many others who had thrown off his mastery, only for her and her “forsaken” to then join the horde and the fight against him. . And now, in the middle of a combined Alliance and Horde offensive, he found himself fighting the pair of them, Banshee and Lich. And he was losing. Badly. His armour was in ruins and his body broken by the combined screams of the banshee and the magic of Jaina. Oh how he had fucked up. Which was the last thing he thought before his head was removed from his neck and he died, this time for good.

Jaina stared down at the headless corpse at her feet and picked up the helmet. She pulled his head from it and placed it next to his body. Looking round, she saw Sylvanas standing near the edge of the balcony. Sylvanas turned, looked at her and then fell forward. She smiled as she plummeted to-wards the frozen ground, ready to die at last. Only she didn’t. She slowed, stopped and rose back up. As soon as she saw Jaina she went to scream but found herself sobbing instead. As Jaina’s magic let her go in front of the lich, she fell to her knees, tears streaming down her face. “Let me die “she screamed, banging her hands against Jaina. “ I cannot, not only because the curse of Frostmourne still affects you and nothing but eternal suffering awaits you , but because I need you Sylvanas, to keep me grounded, to keep me sane . There is no one who will understand what we have been through except us”. The pair stood there holding one another for what seemed like an eternity as emotions warred in Sylvanas’s heart. “I have to go to my people, I can’t abandon them” she said, finally breaking from Jaina's grip and then she fled, more tears streaming down her face. Jaina watched her go, then turned to the helmet she had let drop to the floor next to her. She could hear whispers, promises of power coming from it.” No, no more” she hissed, picking it up.

The Horde and Alliance were surprised when the scourge fell, collapsing across the battlefield, the magic that sustained them fleeing their forms, called back to Ice crown citadel. Only those who had already broken free of the lich kings control stayed upright. When they reached the frozen throne, they found Jaina with the crushed helm of domination at her feet and the spirit of Ner'zhul screaming in her hand. She banished him to whatever hell awaited as the heroes of both the horde and alliance stood around her. She was still beautiful, her body perfectly preserved. But her once kind eyes now glowed a magical blue and her skin was pale, her hair white. “Whomever said their must always be a lich king simply wasn't trying hard enough” she said and then, without another word, teleported away.