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The room grows silent, as the Archlich draws his final breath and succumbs to the fatal injuries he sustained.
However, the cold does not fade away, nor will it ever do. The designation of Naxxramas, actually of the whole Northrend, is to not be warm and pleasant. It is the land of the unliving, after all.
But that doesn't seem to bother the two death knights who vanquished the Archlich. They seem to stand still, unphased by the countless skeletons who lie on the ground, completely unanimated and free from the grasp of the now slain Archlich, it's corpse also lying in the middle of the room.
Although the death knights are from different factions, they seem to have gotten along well. The undeath and the rebellion against The Lich King is what brought them together.
Or, is it ?
"Kel'Thuzad's finally dead.", a lifeless voice breaks the innate silence surrounding the Inner Sanctum. Rhys Strongfork, a lean night elf with pale skin, flesh visibly decayed around the right forearm and chest area, sunken eyes glowing pupil-less bright blue from the energy of undeath that was poured on him by Arthas Menethil upon his resurrection. He was deemed worthy at that time, something that the Alliance seemed to have done the exact opposite for siding with the enemy, the infamous Handsome Jack, the blood elf rogue who was one of Kael'Thas's honorable soldiers, then leading the Hyperion Outlaws along with Valeera Sanguinar in the battle at the Sunwell Plateau, against the Burning Legion. A warrior of the Horde. "High treason" was their reasoning.
Before undeath, Rhys was a druid, disposing a prowess of martial skills involving feral shapeshifting and channelling Elune's wrath in both battle and healing. Now, he is an unholy death knight, having the ability to summon an army of the dead to his aid. A geist, by the name of Chewie, always skulks around him, waiting patiently for the next order from his master.
Rhys named his geist Chewie, because he likes to chew bones. Obviously.
"Ugh, about fucking time already", the other death knight sighs as he unzips his pants and pisses on Kel'thuzad's lifeless remains, "now this will surely get on the Lich King's nerves !"
"Jack !!!! What in the actual fuck are you doing ??", the night elf retorts.
Handsome Jack breaks in another sigh, unsure whether in annoyance or relaxation, fog surrounding his breath, while matching glowing pupil-less blue eyes stare in the counterpart's. "Marking my territory from Arthas, pumpkin ? I thought that's obvious, didn't thought that undeath can possibly destroy your brain cells."
Rhys rolls his eyes, even though his action is not visible. "Blumbering buffoon. How can you still be so full of yourself, even in undeath, that's beyond my levels of comprehension."
The blood elf turns and smiles at the night elf without breaking eye contact, pants still unzipped and dick still hanging out. "Because undeath cannot meddle with this awesomeness, baby.", he points at himself.
"This is exactly one of THOSE times when I wonder where did I go wrong in life when I met you", Rhys jabbed, turning away from Jack just for a fraction of a second, then the sight left him dismayed.
Jack was sitting on the floor, munching on a severed arm. Rhys instantly identified the severed arm as belonging to Heigan the Unclean, "the guy with the plague geysers that almost burned our asses to cinders" dude from The Plague Quarter. Undead have the capability of regaining their strength through feasting on other corpses. But it's only regarding certain types of undead creatures.
"Okay, pardon me for my intrusion once again and my lack of abstaining from asking very pertinent questions, but please, do me a favor and inform me regarding what the fuck are you doing right now."
The blood elf replies, mouthful of rotten flesh. "Having a snack so I can regain my strength after one hell of a combat ? We killed the whole Naxxramas, kiddo. Just the two of us ! We are the heroes of Azeroth, Rhysie !"
"I regret to inform you, Mr. Handsome-but-not-so-wise-Jack, but my knowledge indicates the fact that other undead creatures can heal themselves through cannibalism. Other undead creatures, excluding us. We are special.", the night elf concluded.
Jack's prideful facade drops, and after a brief moment, spits the putrid chewed meat on the ground, and tosses the gnawed member over the platform, falling a very long way until the plains that were crawling with ghouls right beneath Naxxramas. Could've alarmed someone, if the ghouls still had cognitive functions or awareness. "That might actually explain why I had some digestive issues on the boat to Northrend."
The remark was followed by a plated facepalm from Rhys. It's been more than a thousand years of knowing him, and he is fully aware that Handsome Jack, both in life and undeath, is a very cunning individual, he can tank off an entire army of zombies without getting a dent on his armor, thanks to the fact that he is a death knight with blood specialization, but sometimes it seems that his ignorance can fail him.
Despite his small appreciation for Handsome Jack, the night elf cannot cease to contain his hate for him. The reason why he is undead; Rhys blames it on Jack.
Blinded by hatred, the night elf picks up his sword and lunges forward to Jack's throat, only to be met with the same riposte from the blood elf. Shockingly enough, Jack's rogue prowess and quick movements persisted even after being risen from the dead by Arthas.
“So eager to meet death again, Rhysie ?”, Jack threatened, with a smug that Rhys can only wish he could just wipe it off with his sword, if it weren't for this unfavorable position.
“Hm. Like the time you left me for dead in the Plaguelands to fight off the Scourge alone because you were too busy being Kael’thas’s puppet ? Or like the time the Lich King turned me into a banshee shortly after ?”, the night elf insinuated.
The blood elf tilts his head, maintaining eye contact with Rhys, but inching closer, and closer, to the counterpart's face. “Like the time you are in now, and not by my hands, but probably Arthas's.”
The action is not met with physical resistance, but with a verbal sneer. “Listen, Jack. I haven’t met my demise in Queen Azshara’s hands, nor in her pathetic acolytes, so I will definitely not-”
“We’ll see about that.", Jack interrupts, disarming Rhys and throwing both of the swords on the floor, gripping the night elf's waist with one hand, slowly licking his throat in a very suggestive manner while armored claws dig in it.
In life, when Jack touched him like this, he felt what he always described as a "burning touch, explosive yet when it goes away, it leaves you desolate". Now, the night elf feels a chilling sensation, like he never felt before, shuddering under the grasp of his partner.
Uncharted and undocumented, he thinks.
The chill is tenfold the intensity of the burning sensation Rhys felt when he was alive, his arms flying into Jack's hair without a second thought, gasping and whining for more.
Is it possible for the undead to feel arousal, despite their inability to reproduce ? Apparently, it is, but different from the living world. A lot different.
But he'll be damned if he doesn't want to experience it to the fullest.
"Welcome to Northrend, cupcake. Enjoy your undeath while you still can.”, the blood elf hummed before closing the distance into a lewd open mouth kiss, full of arousal, almost predatory and domineering, the fog from their unliving reanimation escaping from their gasps.
The once silent room fills with whispers, but that doesn't seem to bother Rhys nor Jack, as their tongues intertwine in a frenzy, bits of armor and clothing being tossed aside, leaving the couple naked on the cold ground.
Rhys pauses for a moment, and stares at Handsome Jack's scarred body, his rib cage contour prominent, dark lividity spots marking his skin here and there, and hangs his head dejectedly. The night elf's body is even more ridden with decay, especially his right arm and rib cage, where he misses a lot of skin, in a manner that bones are visible. It's because, prior to becoming a death knight, Rhys was a wailing banshee, a discorporeal being akin to a ghost. It took a long while to find his body again, which was buried in a mass grave in the Eastern Plaguelands along with the rest of his druid friends who fell to the Scourge - Darkspear trolls, taurens, and other night elves. All relatively young.
The blood elf quickly snaps Rhys out of his sorrow thinking, cupping his face in both of his ice cold hands.
"You look just as stunning as you did when we were alive."
The night elf looks in Jack's eyes, gaze still full of sorrow. "Jack, can I ask you something ?"
"Yes ?"
"What happened to you ? How did you-"
"Kil'jaeden. He saw me when I was in stealth, I was trying to gouge his eyes out and sinister strike his sorry ass while Valeera and Lady Liadrin were taking care of the rest of the demons, but he struck me down with some shadow bolts. I think he was very, very jealous of my looks", Jack explained sheepishly.
Rhys stares in shock. "Wait, you died at the Sunwell Plateau ?? That was in the day when I was fighting off the Scourge in Western Plaguelands with my friends from the Cenarion Circle !! Does that mean we-"
"Yes, we died in the same day. Kael'thas sent me in a suicide mission to get rid of me, because he found out that I knew he was going to betray us. I'm sorry, Rhys."
Jack knew about Rhys's death, he was the one who helped him get his body back when he was a banshee. Rhys never wanted to hear Jack's story, the feelings of hatred and betrayal persisted even after he became a death knight.
But, now, Jack is here, and he is standing in front of Rhys, still cupping the night elf's face, and that is more than enough for him shudder in anticipation. There is no more hatred left, only agonizing lust, and the raging boners are there to certify that.
Fed up of all the waiting, Rhys puts his palms on Jack's chest, pushing him on his back, and hovers over him, lunging in for a fervorous and passionate kiss involving biting. The pain is not felt as strong as it was in life, probably due to nerve ending being rotten, the night elf notices. Yet, this mild pain brings even more pleasure than it did in life.
Rhys needs more. And the kind of need that is branded as profane.
Sinful. Wicked.
Unclean.
Unholy.
"Jack, I want to repay you.", Rhys breaks, scrounging Kel'Thuzad's corpse, until he finds what he was looking for.
"For ?", Jack asks in a smuggish and curious manner.
"For everything", Rhys cooed, pulling off a bunch of chains in front of his face and tugging them in a playful manner. "And for actually having the patience to deal with my crazy ass when I was a banshee."
"Ohohohoho, kitten ! Didn't knew you had that in you, in life you were pretty vanilla if you ask me.", Jack grins, allowing the night elf to tie his hands above his head with the chains. "Also, your banshee screams and wails were so sexy, always giving me a hard-on. Too bad I can't fuck a ghost, damn."
"Shush now. Allow me to take the lead, you just relax~", Rhys whispered, while taking his sword from the floor and securing Jack's chain bondage with it. Then, the night elf moves to the other side, pulling out a spare icicle that has fallen on the ground, letting it melt in his hands into a puddle.
Rhys wastes no time in using the water to wet his fingers, inserting his index finger inside himself, gasping at the foreign sensation. Looking into Jack's eyes, he inserts a second finger, a filthy moan escaping his lungs, it's echo reverbing in the Inner Sanctum, as he stretches himself open.
"Damn, Rhysie, well aren't you a sight for sore eyes. Already so eager to ride my cock ?", Jack teased, but earning a snarky retort from the slender man atop of him, who is now coating the blood elf's whole member with the remaining water.
"Fuck yeah I am. Gonna ride your dick so bad, you will beg for more. You will scream my name, to be heard till Icecrown, so the whole Northrend, including the Lich King, will know who you are fucking", Rhys sneered, while stroking Jack's cock.
"Ooooooooh, pumpkin, j-just ride me already-"
"How do we say to a certain death knight ? Hm, handsome ?", the night elf insinuated, seeking for leverage support on the sword's handle, as he waits for the right words to come out of the blood elf's mouth.
This is way too much for Jack to handle.
"P-please, Rhys~"
As soon as he heard these words, the night elf sinks down on the blood elf's member, synchronized wails filling out the room from both of the death knights. Rhys visibly shakes at the sensation of Jack's cock inside him, bigger than his fingers, but cold, almost like a frostbite. So cold, a shockingly tasteful pleasure he never experienced before.
"Jaaaack !", Rhys whines, panting as he starts grinding his hips.
The blood elf releases muffled moans, uselessly writhing under the bonds, trying to find a way to break free so he can go loose, primal instincts kicking in like a punch.
"Jack, fuck me..."
"Ngh, pumpkin...", Jack grunts, moving his hips erratically to meet up with Rhys's.
The night elf's eyes widely open as he tosses his head back into a wail. Jack's dick is hitting just the right places, making Rhys into a puddle of shuddering and screaming mess.
"Rhys, I swear- ah, if w-we ever make it out alive, I- ngh, I will fuck you on The Lich King's throne.", Jack stutters, picking up the pace of his movements.
"AAAAH !!!! OH, YES ! Please, do that to m- meeee !!!"
Gasps and wails, pleas and curses fill out the Inner Sanctum, and shortly after, Rhys lets out a gut-wrenching high-pitched banshee scream, surrounding himself in smoke as he comes.
Jack still had the stamina to continue, but after he heard that banshee scream, he instantly came, screaming the night elf's name as loud as he could.
He doubts that his scream was heard until Icecrown, but Grizzly Hills ? Yeah, that ought to do. Or, hell, maybe even Icecrown ?
The two quickly snapped from the afterglow as soon as they heard a pair of hands clapping. Another undead elf is sitting in the Inner Sanctum, fuck knows since when, but this undead elf is different from Rhys and Jack.
"A most exquisite presentation of undead having sex. I'm impressed."
Handsome Jack instantly recognizes the elf. It's the Banshee Queen, Sylvanas Windrunner, leader of the Forsaken. Also a victim of the Lich King.
"Oh, it's YOU. Of course it had to be you.", Jack bites back, hands still tied.
"I was here to kill Kel'Thuzad, but then I heard a banshee scream. I see you have a companion, an Alliance dog. Really, Jack ? I was expecting better of you, one of the so-called heroes of the Horde", Sylvanas chuckles. Rhys furrows his eyebrows at the remark.
"Leave Rhys out of this, or I will use your ears as toilet paper.", the blood elf sneers. "I do not fight for no Horde, he does not fight for no Alliance. We are Knights of the Ebon Blade."
Sylvanas laughs. "I'm off to Icecrown. I do not have time for games. By the time you two get there, I will already have Arthas killed.", she says as she leaves the Inner Sanctum.
Rhys stares at Jack, still sitting on top of him.
"She doesn't seem as a very charming person.", the night elf concludes.
Jack replies, "Do you really think I'm calling her Bitchvanas for no reason ? If there is someone who deserves a buttload of arrows and a freshly-opened can of whoop-ass, it's her."
Rhys snorts at the nickname, taking off the bonds on Jack's hands. "Bitchvanas". Pretty witty.
"Well, I say we should get going. You heard her, she's already off to Icecrown Citadel."
"I was serious about what I told you before, though", the blood elf says, phlegmatic in behaviour, while getting dressed. "We gonna get to Icecrown Citadel, kill the Lich King, and then fuck on the Frozen Throne. I can't wait to wipe that smug grin off Bitchvanas."
The night elf was ready to protest, rolling his eyes, but he is shortly cut off by another set of applause.
This time, from Chewie, Rhys's geist, who was crouching idly exactly where he was left after the battle with Kel'Thuzad.
"Did you really left him there, all this time, without dispelling him ?", Jack asks, in dismay.
Rhys shrugs. "I guess I got carried away.", he chuckles, followed by another excited clap from Chewie.
"You're a smug little shit, aren't you.", the blood elf rebukes towards the geist, as the three of them walk away, leaving the now deserted Naxxramas for good.
They never know what's going to expect them in Icecrown. The two death knights will probably find their end in the citadel. But, at least they have each other now, a bond that never seems to shatter. At least, not anymore.
As in life, so in undeath.