SV Fic: Chosen (Kal-El/Chloe, rated PG), 2/??
Kal-El has taken over my brain, and it's all Lilbreck's and Tobywolf's fault. :)
In the middle of writing the last chapters of my AU Chlark fic, "Of Gods and Butterflies" (I'm working on it, I swear!!), I did an Overlord!Kal/Chloe ficlet for Lil's birthday, and then found that I couldn't quit. Eep.
The story is set in an AU where the meteor shower happened years after it did on SV, the Kryptonians have taken over the Earth, and Chloe has discovered that their Overlord considers her a suitable mate....
The original ficlet (now Chapter One) is here: Chosen, Chapter One
Chosen
Chapter Two
After spending a week aboard Kal-El’s spaceship, Chloe had to admit that, as alien invaders went, he wasn’t so bad.
In spite of the whole caveman-style way he’d claimed her back in his audience chamber, he hadn’t so much as laid a hand on her since. In fact, to her surprise, after installing her in a suite of apartments that was only marginally less luxurious than a high-tech version of the penthouse at the Waldorf, he’d hardly been around at all. If she’d been expecting him to claim his new bride right away, she’d been wrong. Which, she told herself sternly, was a good thing.
Wasn’t it?
Almost as shocking was the way she’d been allowed to wander around the ship. After struggling unsuccessfully to remove Kal-El's unwanted bracelet, she'd abandoned the fight and investigated the mysteries of the shower and drying-chamber, which apparently functioned by voice command. Once she'd bathed and changed into the outfit Kal-El's people had directed her to wear, a scaled-down duplicate of Kal-El’s uniform in red instead of black, she'd tried the door and discovered that it was both unlocked and unguarded.
Almost immediately, she’d slipped out to explore the vast maze of corridors and galleries. In spite of the aliens’ curious glances and supercilious stares, no one tried to stop her. Fascinated, she walked into what looked like a control room and watched the crew adjust weirdly-lit crystalline formations, tiptoed past a theater where holographic images substituted for real actors, and listened in on dining-hall conversations in a language she didn't know.
Even though she had no clue what anyone was saying, the long-nosed looks aimed her way shouted “puny human” clearer than any words. When the chilly receptions got to be too much, she turned to go back, and found out that she was hopelessly lost.
There was no way she would ask for directions, even if she could; it probably would have been more painful than the time she’d tried to find her way in Paris without knowing any French. She'd just resigned herself to a long ordeal by trial-and-error when a small robot attendant whizzed to her side and guided her back in fluent English.
It was her first clue that Kal-El wasn’t quite as neglectful as he’d seemed. Her second came soon afterward, when another robot glided into her quarters and informed her, in tones almost as superior as those of its alien masters, that her training in the culture and language of the magnificent world of Krypton was about to begin.
Grimly, Chloe spent the following days sitting through lecture after endless lecture about the glory that was Kal-El’s old world, complete with three-D sound-and-light show effects, while stubbornly resisting the robot’s polite and persistent attempts to speak to her in pidgin Kryptonian.
Finally, she’d had enough. “If this is your master’s idea of brainwashing, tell him it isn’t working,” she told the little robot, and got up from the study table to wave the door open.
When the panels wooshed apart, Kal-El was standing on the other side, eyes narrowed down at her from his towering height. “You seem displeased, my mate.”
Chloe took a step back, but recovered quickly. “You promised to send me back to the Planet,” she accused. “And so far all I’ve gotten is a crash course in Kryptonian propaganda. Are you going back on your word?”
She watched the overlord’s nostrils flare, and, for a second, she caught a glimpse of what looked like fiery sparks flashing in his eyes. “The House of El does not lie.”
Behind her, the little robot let out a frightened electronic squeak and sped out the door, giving Kal-El as wide a berth as possible. Chloe, meanwhile, stood her ground, even though for all she knew, it might be the last thing she’d ever do.
He scowled, but the red glints in his eyes had faded. “What you are learning is not propaganda, it is fact. As my mate, you must learn of our rich culture, so that you may help me teach it to our new subjects on Earth.”
“Your culture blew itself up,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “At least we haven’t done that yet.”
She saw him wince, and remembered, guiltily, that his parents had been on the planet when it was destroyed. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. "I didn't mean to bring back memories."
“May I come in?” he asked gravely, his tone surprisingly gentle.
“It’s your ship,” she replied, moving aside to let him enter. “Thanks for letting me explore it a little, by the way.”
The same blinding grin she’d seen before in the audience chamber spread across his face. Somehow, it made him seem much more human; in spite of herself, Chloe relaxed and grinned back. “I thought it would please you. And I knew you would never be happy until you had satisfied your curiosity,” he added, with a touch of amusement. “Besides, there was no chance that you could run away, unless you jumped out. As we are five thousand feet above the city of Metropolis, I did not consider that to be a possibility.”
She made a face. “Good call,” she commented. “Is that why you don’t want to send me back to Earth-because you think I’ll try to escape?”
“Of course not,” he answered dismissively. “There is no place on Earth that you can hide from me, Sull-I-Van.”
Chloe’s good mood evaporated instantly at the jarring reminder of Kal-El’s power over her. “So when do I get to go back?” she asked, dropping her eyes.
“Soon.”
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and faced him. “That reminds me. Everyone's bound to find out that I’m your, um, er”-she balked at the word “mate”-“concubine or whatever now. . . .”
She trailed off as the same hands that had crushed the world’s weapons to dust rose to cup her cheeks. One large thumb brushed against her skin softly, and Chloe sensed the carefully-restrained strength in that touch.
His face leaned too close to hers, close enough for her to see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, like sunlight over forest leaves. “You are much more than that to me,” he said quietly.
Caught helplessly by that gaze, Chloe suddenly understood how this being had managed to convince the Earth to surrender without firing a single shot. She was dangerously close to doing the same thing right now.
Frightened and angry at her loss of self-control, she jerked her chin free of his hold, and he dropped his hands instantly, although his gaze never left her face.
“OK, whatever,” she replied, happy that her voice shook only slightly. “The point is, most people probably will think I sold out. So when I get back to the Planet, I’m going to need to use a pseudonym.”
He nodded absently, but she saw the corners of his mouth quirk upwards in amusement. With a sinking heart, she realized that her calm reply hadn’t fooled him a bit.
He moved a step closer, as if daring her to react, and she bit her lip in frustration, all too aware of his warmth.
But she refused to let a knowitall overlord tip her off-balance. Hadn’t she made a career out of facing down giants like Luthorcorp?
Holding her ground, she returned his gaze steadily. His smile widened. “I have been thinking,” he remarked.
“Wow, what a novel activity.”
As usual, the sarcasm flew right over his head. “Not at all,” he assured her earnestly. “Ever since I knew I was charged with the safeguarding of Earth, I have thought how best to accomplish this. I cannot govern without knowing my subjects.”
She raised her eyebrows. “And what does that mean?”
Kal-El’s expression glowed serenely. “It means I have decided to accompany you when you return to the newspaper known as the Daily Planet.”
It took a minute for his meaning to sink in, and when it did, Chloe rolled her eyes. “Hold it. You’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”
“Indeed I am. I will operate in this place of business as one of you. I will blend in seamlessly.”
“Uh-huh.”
“None of the primitives I meet will ever suspect my true identity,” he went on confidently.
“Oh, Lord.”
“No, just Kal-El.’”
“Whatever.” She searched his face for any sign of a joke, and found none. “You know how frustrating this is for me, don’t you? I keep wanting to make fun of you, and I can’t.”
He tilted his head. “Did I say something funny?”
She shook with helpless laughter, while Kal-El’s expression darkened.
Sternly, she calmed herself enough to answer. “Look, Kal-El, please. There’s no way the Supreme Overlord of Earth could ever be mistaken for a mere mortal.”
“Why? No one has seen me before. I’ve been very careful about that.”
So, Chloe thought, that was the reason why Kal-El had been so eager to keep out of sight. She eyed every inch of his well-muscled, six-feet-plus frame, and tried her best to sound reasonable. “Trust me, there’s no place outside Hollywood that you’d go unnoticed. Or inside Hollywood, for that matter. It’s just not happening, sorry.”
His jaw tightened stubbornly. “It should be no great matter to deceive a lesser race.”
“Oh? How?”
When he met her gaze, Chloe saw the same determined look she’d often seen in her mirror. It was a shock to see it on the face of an alien invader.
“I trust you to come up with such details,” he said, dismissively. “I consider them child’s play.”
Chloe looked him over again, whistled softly, and shook her head. “Talk about challenges.”
Chapter Three is here.
After the next chapter, it's back to Gods and Butterflies, promise!! :)
In the middle of writing the last chapters of my AU Chlark fic, "Of Gods and Butterflies" (I'm working on it, I swear!!), I did an Overlord!Kal/Chloe ficlet for Lil's birthday, and then found that I couldn't quit. Eep.
The story is set in an AU where the meteor shower happened years after it did on SV, the Kryptonians have taken over the Earth, and Chloe has discovered that their Overlord considers her a suitable mate....
The original ficlet (now Chapter One) is here: Chosen, Chapter One
Chosen
Chapter Two
After spending a week aboard Kal-El’s spaceship, Chloe had to admit that, as alien invaders went, he wasn’t so bad.
In spite of the whole caveman-style way he’d claimed her back in his audience chamber, he hadn’t so much as laid a hand on her since. In fact, to her surprise, after installing her in a suite of apartments that was only marginally less luxurious than a high-tech version of the penthouse at the Waldorf, he’d hardly been around at all. If she’d been expecting him to claim his new bride right away, she’d been wrong. Which, she told herself sternly, was a good thing.
Wasn’t it?
Almost as shocking was the way she’d been allowed to wander around the ship. After struggling unsuccessfully to remove Kal-El's unwanted bracelet, she'd abandoned the fight and investigated the mysteries of the shower and drying-chamber, which apparently functioned by voice command. Once she'd bathed and changed into the outfit Kal-El's people had directed her to wear, a scaled-down duplicate of Kal-El’s uniform in red instead of black, she'd tried the door and discovered that it was both unlocked and unguarded.
Almost immediately, she’d slipped out to explore the vast maze of corridors and galleries. In spite of the aliens’ curious glances and supercilious stares, no one tried to stop her. Fascinated, she walked into what looked like a control room and watched the crew adjust weirdly-lit crystalline formations, tiptoed past a theater where holographic images substituted for real actors, and listened in on dining-hall conversations in a language she didn't know.
Even though she had no clue what anyone was saying, the long-nosed looks aimed her way shouted “puny human” clearer than any words. When the chilly receptions got to be too much, she turned to go back, and found out that she was hopelessly lost.
There was no way she would ask for directions, even if she could; it probably would have been more painful than the time she’d tried to find her way in Paris without knowing any French. She'd just resigned herself to a long ordeal by trial-and-error when a small robot attendant whizzed to her side and guided her back in fluent English.
It was her first clue that Kal-El wasn’t quite as neglectful as he’d seemed. Her second came soon afterward, when another robot glided into her quarters and informed her, in tones almost as superior as those of its alien masters, that her training in the culture and language of the magnificent world of Krypton was about to begin.
Grimly, Chloe spent the following days sitting through lecture after endless lecture about the glory that was Kal-El’s old world, complete with three-D sound-and-light show effects, while stubbornly resisting the robot’s polite and persistent attempts to speak to her in pidgin Kryptonian.
Finally, she’d had enough. “If this is your master’s idea of brainwashing, tell him it isn’t working,” she told the little robot, and got up from the study table to wave the door open.
When the panels wooshed apart, Kal-El was standing on the other side, eyes narrowed down at her from his towering height. “You seem displeased, my mate.”
Chloe took a step back, but recovered quickly. “You promised to send me back to the Planet,” she accused. “And so far all I’ve gotten is a crash course in Kryptonian propaganda. Are you going back on your word?”
She watched the overlord’s nostrils flare, and, for a second, she caught a glimpse of what looked like fiery sparks flashing in his eyes. “The House of El does not lie.”
Behind her, the little robot let out a frightened electronic squeak and sped out the door, giving Kal-El as wide a berth as possible. Chloe, meanwhile, stood her ground, even though for all she knew, it might be the last thing she’d ever do.
He scowled, but the red glints in his eyes had faded. “What you are learning is not propaganda, it is fact. As my mate, you must learn of our rich culture, so that you may help me teach it to our new subjects on Earth.”
“Your culture blew itself up,” she scoffed, crossing her arms. “At least we haven’t done that yet.”
She saw him wince, and remembered, guiltily, that his parents had been on the planet when it was destroyed. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. "I didn't mean to bring back memories."
“May I come in?” he asked gravely, his tone surprisingly gentle.
“It’s your ship,” she replied, moving aside to let him enter. “Thanks for letting me explore it a little, by the way.”
The same blinding grin she’d seen before in the audience chamber spread across his face. Somehow, it made him seem much more human; in spite of herself, Chloe relaxed and grinned back. “I thought it would please you. And I knew you would never be happy until you had satisfied your curiosity,” he added, with a touch of amusement. “Besides, there was no chance that you could run away, unless you jumped out. As we are five thousand feet above the city of Metropolis, I did not consider that to be a possibility.”
She made a face. “Good call,” she commented. “Is that why you don’t want to send me back to Earth-because you think I’ll try to escape?”
“Of course not,” he answered dismissively. “There is no place on Earth that you can hide from me, Sull-I-Van.”
Chloe’s good mood evaporated instantly at the jarring reminder of Kal-El’s power over her. “So when do I get to go back?” she asked, dropping her eyes.
“Soon.”
She took a deep breath to steady her nerves and faced him. “That reminds me. Everyone's bound to find out that I’m your, um, er”-she balked at the word “mate”-“concubine or whatever now. . . .”
She trailed off as the same hands that had crushed the world’s weapons to dust rose to cup her cheeks. One large thumb brushed against her skin softly, and Chloe sensed the carefully-restrained strength in that touch.
His face leaned too close to hers, close enough for her to see the flecks of gold in his hazel eyes, like sunlight over forest leaves. “You are much more than that to me,” he said quietly.
Caught helplessly by that gaze, Chloe suddenly understood how this being had managed to convince the Earth to surrender without firing a single shot. She was dangerously close to doing the same thing right now.
Frightened and angry at her loss of self-control, she jerked her chin free of his hold, and he dropped his hands instantly, although his gaze never left her face.
“OK, whatever,” she replied, happy that her voice shook only slightly. “The point is, most people probably will think I sold out. So when I get back to the Planet, I’m going to need to use a pseudonym.”
He nodded absently, but she saw the corners of his mouth quirk upwards in amusement. With a sinking heart, she realized that her calm reply hadn’t fooled him a bit.
He moved a step closer, as if daring her to react, and she bit her lip in frustration, all too aware of his warmth.
But she refused to let a knowitall overlord tip her off-balance. Hadn’t she made a career out of facing down giants like Luthorcorp?
Holding her ground, she returned his gaze steadily. His smile widened. “I have been thinking,” he remarked.
“Wow, what a novel activity.”
As usual, the sarcasm flew right over his head. “Not at all,” he assured her earnestly. “Ever since I knew I was charged with the safeguarding of Earth, I have thought how best to accomplish this. I cannot govern without knowing my subjects.”
She raised her eyebrows. “And what does that mean?”
Kal-El’s expression glowed serenely. “It means I have decided to accompany you when you return to the newspaper known as the Daily Planet.”
It took a minute for his meaning to sink in, and when it did, Chloe rolled her eyes. “Hold it. You’re not saying what I think you’re saying.”
“Indeed I am. I will operate in this place of business as one of you. I will blend in seamlessly.”
“Uh-huh.”
“None of the primitives I meet will ever suspect my true identity,” he went on confidently.
“Oh, Lord.”
“No, just Kal-El.’”
“Whatever.” She searched his face for any sign of a joke, and found none. “You know how frustrating this is for me, don’t you? I keep wanting to make fun of you, and I can’t.”
He tilted his head. “Did I say something funny?”
She shook with helpless laughter, while Kal-El’s expression darkened.
Sternly, she calmed herself enough to answer. “Look, Kal-El, please. There’s no way the Supreme Overlord of Earth could ever be mistaken for a mere mortal.”
“Why? No one has seen me before. I’ve been very careful about that.”
So, Chloe thought, that was the reason why Kal-El had been so eager to keep out of sight. She eyed every inch of his well-muscled, six-feet-plus frame, and tried her best to sound reasonable. “Trust me, there’s no place outside Hollywood that you’d go unnoticed. Or inside Hollywood, for that matter. It’s just not happening, sorry.”
His jaw tightened stubbornly. “It should be no great matter to deceive a lesser race.”
“Oh? How?”
When he met her gaze, Chloe saw the same determined look she’d often seen in her mirror. It was a shock to see it on the face of an alien invader.
“I trust you to come up with such details,” he said, dismissively. “I consider them child’s play.”
Chloe looked him over again, whistled softly, and shook her head. “Talk about challenges.”
Chapter Three is here.
After the next chapter, it's back to Gods and Butterflies, promise!! :)