DISCLAIMER:  I do not own Smallville and its characters…. =p

PAIRINGS: Clex
WARNING:  Alternate Universe
RATING: PG-13
AN : sigh This is utter crap… my muse seems to be taking a holiday at this moment and I’m afraid I’ve done a lot worse job than my usual… You see, this is supposed to be a series : "Fate and Destiny" with the three stories from each lifetime I laid out and this was definitely not supposed to be my entry… then again, my muse ran out and I decided to make a side story for the series to answer the challenge… sigh I feel soo ashamed…

==> Anyway, thanks so much to Nita, my beta,  for putting up with my mistakes.... =^-^= you're so great for helping me...

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"Play Destiny"

A Clexian Narrative

By : Fallen_Icarus

 

Prologue : Mixed Emotions

Revelations.

 

"I’ve never been to my home planet… Krypton."

 

Indignation.

 

"We really shouldn’t be doing this, Harry. Not only is it against the rules but—it’s *playing* with other people’s lives!"

 

Impatience.

 

"Don’t you get it, ‘Mione? If we can’t—*don’t* change history, then we’re all doomed to a world of despair and darkness! Both the wizarding *and* the muggle world. ’Sides, Dumbledore gave me this idea. I’d like to think he approves of this."

 

Confusion.

 

"Uhhmm… I still don’t get it, Harry. I mean, we’re wizards! Why can’t we just cast a spell to make them stop right now? I mean, they *are* still muggles…"

 

Exasperation.

 

"Ron. You heard what the Order said. They seem to be unaffected by any spell or potion. We have no other choice but this."

 

Understanding.

 

"I know.. But-"

 

"But what? There are no buts, Ron. We can’t have any mistakes here… especially *here*. We are stranded between timelines and we can’t go back until we finish this right! I know how you feel. How easy it is to take on the fastest way. However, even the shortest road has one too many detours. Bloody hell, now I’m starting to sound like you ‘Mione!"

 

Laughter.

 

Acceptance.

 

"Fine. If we’re going to do this, we’re doing it right. There must be a life scanning spell we can use that includes past lives."

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

"Give it up, Luthor. You can’t make this world your empire! Not while I am still living!"

"You’re just a plaything."

 

"Kryptonite… That’s my weakness."

 

"Just trust me, Clark…... I’m your friend."

 

"I’ve never been to my home planet… Krypton."

 

"Our friendship is going to be the stuff of legends."

 

"Do you believe in fate, Lex?"

 

"Fate is anything short of fickle…"

 

"I’m sorry… but I can’t accept your gift."

 

"Didn’t I hit you?"

 

"Who am I? Dad, please… Mom… Wha-what am I?"

 

"Help me, please… Right here. Help me down."

 

Helplessness.

 

"Freak! You’re nothing but a freak of nature!"

 

"You’re weak! Not worthy to be a Luthor! You are not my son!"

 

"Do I dare dream in this world of war?"

 

"I just know it! You’re definitely a dragon!"

 

"I assure you, my lord… I am not the one who challenged your honor."

 

"We shall undoubtedly meet again, my Lord"

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

"There! Right there! We start at the near beginning…"

 

Chapter One : Regency

 

Whatever was taking the man so long? Clark, Lord Kent pushed a strand of ebony hair off his brow for the umpteenth time with nervous fingers. He hoped Lord Lankford would soon put in an appearance, or he would be tempted to flee from his house like a common thief. Granted, that he was on the verge of running like a frightened rabbit at the moment didn’t help any in his situation.

            He had spent the entire morning mustering up the courage to confront the man who had ruined his father just because he could.  If he possessed an ounce of sense, he would have turned coward and jumped back into the hackney carriage, which was unfortunately a tad uncomfortable, the minute he laid eyes on the imposing mansion slash castle in St. Peter’s Square. But strangely, by some unknown urge, he’d marched up the front steps determined, yet nervous, to confront the notorious Marquis of Lankford.                                                                                                                                                                                    

            To his growing dismay, Lord Lankford’s butler not only indicated his lordship would return shortly , but insisted on showing him into this intimidating drawing room. It looked more like a dungeon than a comfortable waiting place, comma with its bare walls decorated only in armaments and a bronze shield. He assumed it was the Lankford’s crest boldly emblazoned in the center. 

            He shrugged. The butler had been surprisingly solicitous for such a stiff, dignified man, inquiring if he wanted a snifter and insisting on arranging his chair in front of the blazing fireplace, which he hadn’t noticed, by the way, if the butler had not pointed it out to him.  It was so cold, still. He at least had had some idea that a man of Lankford’s stamp would run a household as wild as his reputation. Instead, the few servants he’d encountered looked respectable enough and went quietly about their business. Although he had seen some strange young lads whispering in the corner wearing tall pointy hats and… was it robes? But. He was nervous after all. So he chalked it up to some twisted hallucination of his.

            The dungeons—uh, drawing room showed no signs of haphazard management. It was furnished in the height of elegance, what with the undoubtedly imported weapons, the mahogany chairs polished to perfection, and plush Oriental rugs scattered about the floor. And above the intricately carved mantelpiece was the portrait of an exotically handsome man, his head bared, without hair, his hand on a sword, his cool gaze resting on Clark with a mocking _expression which was making him hot all of a sudden. Which is actually another strange thing, since besides the fireplace, the drawing room was—is still cold…...   

            Clark shifted uneasily. The house seemed unnaturally quiet. He heard no footsteps, no servants’ voices—only the relentless ticking of the clock. Minutes dragged by. It was obvious Lord Lankford did not intend to see him. He was miffed. Insulted. Hurt. Hurt?! Rudeness obviously numbered among his shortcomings.

            Well, he could not sit here forever and expect him  to appear in front of him any moment now. He would have to hunt the man down and force him to see him. He stood up so abruptly he banged is his knee on the table and toppled its centerpiece.

           " ‘Oh, damnit!’" Clark exclaimed, unable to prevent tears of frustration from springing to his eyes as he knelt down to retrieve the centerpiece. Could anything else possibly go wrong?!

           " ‘Lord Kent?’"

            A pair of shiny black riding boots appeared in his line of vision. He froze. His horrified eyes traveled up a pair of lean, muscled thighs encased in buckskin breeches over a dark riding coat covered an equally lean masculine chest and came to rest on the most ‘wickedly’, yet frighteningly, delicately handsome face he had seen in his life. With his lean, fragile features and mockingly appraising stare, he could be an arrogant Italian nobleman from a Gothic romance novel.

            His disconcerting gaze swept over his face. Clark flushed and dropped his eyes. His fingers trembled as he clutched the centerpiece he had been about to place back on the table. Never had he felt at such an utter disadvantage… well, never unless you count the time when Lady Lang cornered him to discuss an arranged marriage.

            ‘It appears you need some help. May I be of assistance?" the man inquired politely. 

 

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

"Okaay… He has to take this. Clark has to take  Lu— Lankford’s hand!" 

 

"Calm down, ‘Mione. Just give them time."

 

"Calm down?! This is the beginning of all, Harry! We can’t afford any mistakes!"

 

"Fine. Just, don’t make the push too deliberate. Ron and I were almost caught had I not put the Obscuring charm when Clark spotted us."

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Chapter Two : Here Be Dragons

 

"So, ‘Mione. Tell me again why the Clark and Lex in this time should be lovers? I mean, not that I am against same sex pairings, I can understand that. I can even understand Harry and Malfoy, but… this is Superman and a megalomaniac dictator who likes purple! Bloody hell!"

 

"I think it’s lavender, Ron…"

 

"Shut up, Harry."

 

"Ron. I have no time for such discriminations. Anyway, they are still not Superman or Luthor in this time. And they *should* be lovers in this time so that they’ll have a past feeling that will provoke them to be together *that* way in the future."

 

"But I thought they already have this bond in the future?"

 

"Yes, Harry. But that intense emotion was mistaken for hate, instead. In this life, I think Clark refused to admit that he’s a dragon to Lex for fear of being killed by the dragon slayer who is actually Lex’s father, Lionel. That’s the root of this… ‘mess’. Lies… and more lies.  So, we have to make Clark—rather, Kal-El trust Le—Alexander this time so that they can be--*ahem* together."

 

"Oookay. What do we have to do now? Me ‘n Harry were almost killed in the crossfire between Lord Lankford and Lord Kent last time when Clark didn’t take Lex’s hand."

 

"Don’t blame ME! I wasn’t the one who cast the floating spell! Who did it anyway? That wasn’t supposed to happen! Clark was supposed to stand up with his hand clasped in Lex’s! Not with the appearance that Lex was mocking him… what with the latter’s ‘mysterious’ floating hand! Blast it! They should have been friends… the best of friends."

 

"Yeah, yeah… we know. Stuff of legends."

 

  ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Alexander stole a sideways glance at the newcomer. ‘This one is so unlike the others. He is sure to be one of the young dragons… I only hope that *Pater would not discover him as one.’

 

Kal-El was nervous. He had felt the leader’s eyes alight upon him in recognition. ‘I should not have ventured out into the open like Jor-El said… The humans had found me as he said…’

 

‘ But, he never mentioned that one could look so ethereal as the Wise Ones…’ As Kal-El finished his last train of thought, both his gaze and the human’s clashed together and scenes of old flashed before their visions.

   ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Eew! That is just too cliché. And how mushy was that?"

Epilogue : End Game

He drew him closer... his other half...

As he felt him tremble he said :

"You are so beautiful... so exquisite in every way, that I am sure you can never be true... And I am afraid you will disappear and I shall loose you.." 

"How could you ever lose me now?" Clark asked in wonder. "How could this have happened so quickly? How can we be sure that we belong to each other?"

"As I told you before," Lex replied in like, "we have known each other for a million years, never having the chance to be together. Yet now, I have found you and I will never let you go, as long as we live."

Clark smiled teasingly, "You are so so mushy nowadays..."

"Hush..."

Then he was claimed... kissed. Not as gently as before, but possessively, as if both were seeking for assurance that they were indeed... together.

To Clark it was as if the home he had been seeking was brought to him and the love outpouring from inside out. He felt he was no longer at war within himself. Human or alien? None of it matters but him and Lex...

Lex went on touching him, seeking salvation and finding it in his lover.

Their hearts were beating against each other... slowly, ever so slowly... the sound of two hearts beating melding into one exquisite harmony.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

End

 

 

*Pater means father [basically it’s draconic]





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