Darkness and Light (1/6)
Title - Darkness and Light
Rating - NC-17
Pairing - Clark/Lex
Summary - Every day the darkness within Prince Lex grows, slowly stripping away the light and goodness in the young man.
A/N - banner again by the awesome tallihensia
Chapter 1
To be a Knight, there were certain aspects that the citizens and nobles of the kingdom expected.
You had to be valiant, charming, noble, generous and humble.
Not to mention a fearless warrior, and someone who would defend the kingdom at any cost.
Lex had been brought up in a home of expectations and beliefs. He had to have all the aspects of a knight, as well as those of the Crowned Prince of the powerful kingdom of Metropolis.
But there were aspects to the knights that the common people and most of the nobles did not know. A darkness that filled them, that ate away at their souls. If they didn’t find the other half of their soul, their soul mate, then the darkness would eventually take them, regardless of what they tried to do.
Every time they fought, that they took another life, they lost to the darkness a little bit more of their souls. With each lost piece, it became harder and harder to find their way back to the light.
Lex had more darkness then most, due to the life he had been brought up in. He’d lost his baby brother, Prince Julian, by his mother’s, Queen Lillian’s, own hand. He’d been battered and broken when fire had fallen from the sky and taken his hair. Probably most telling of all, he’d been raised by his father after his mother died when he was still but a boy.
Every day, Lex felt the darkness pulling him under, felt his world slowly dissolving, the light and laughter fading away, love being removed.
He’d thought when he’d met Lady Helen that he’d finally found someone who could help him take away the darkness, had thought that he’d finally met the person who was his light.
However, Helen hadn’t been his soul mate, as had been evident when she had tried to have him killed. A part of him wondered if his father had something to do with the whole fiasco.
And so every day, Lex tried to keep the darkness at bay, while still doing his knightly and Princely duties.
“Lex.”
Turning, he watched as Bruce stopped his dark horse next to him, his friend’s eyes taking him in for a moment, before returning to the valley, the village that Lionel had sent them to conquer.
Bruce hadn’t found his soul mate either, the same darkness that was filling Lex was in his friend’s eyes, but he used it, somehow molding it to suit him and his fighting ability, using it and the shadows to his advantage. He would have to find his soul mate soon, but not as soon as Lex.
Pushing the thoughts away, Lex let his eyes run over the plans for them taking the village.
It was strange that his father had sent his best knights to conquer a village that wouldn’t be difficult for any of the soldiers of Metropolis to defeat, but his father had made it clear that Lex was to bring the village under control and bring the younger and healthier of the people to the castle to ‘enhance’ the kingdom’s work force.
Lex was still trying to work out what his father really wanted with the village and its people.
“They’ll fight,” Bruce murmured, eyes still staring at the valley. “They may not be warriors, but they’ll fight for their families and for their village.”
Sighing, Lex nodded. He had hoped that the village elders could be reasoned with, that they could come to some kind of arrangement, but if Bruce thought there would be a fight, then there would be.
“There are strange stories about the village,” Bruce continued quietly. “They say that it was the town worse hit when the fire fell from the heavens, it’s given some of the people … strange abilities. We shouldn’t underestimate them.”
“When have we ever underestimated the enemy?” Lex asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
**
The villagers had put up a valiant effort against Lex and his Knights, although in the end they had been outmatched, the knights warriors who were used to fighting.
Bruce had been right about the villagers being more then they seemed. Lex had seen an empty space knock out one of his knights, before Bruce had thrown some kind of dye over the, what turned out to be, boy.
Another person had been able to control bugs.
Another moved faster then anything Lex had ever seen.
Another was able to lift things that were far too heavy for a single man.
As they had fought, Lex started to realize why his father was so interested in the small village.
Watching as the villagers were rounded up, Lex couldn’t help but feel saddened at those who had been lost. It had been a long time since he’d fought people who actually fought fairly, who fought only to save their people and land.
His men were gathering the men and women that would be sold off, watching the scared, fearful looks on their faces.
All of them with the same look, except one, a young boy, probably barely fifteen summers old, that Lex hadn’t been able to stop his eyes from straying to. The boy was beautiful, such an innocent gorgeous face, ebony hair falling softly around his head, deep green eyes that pulled you in, and a mouth that no person would be able to resist, resist kissing, resist fulfilling fantasies that made it hard for Lex to think straight.
The boy didn’t look scared, didn’t look fearful, he was looking around worriedly, concerned for his fellow villagers.
The boy wouldn’t be on the market long.
There would be many men, both here and back home who would take one look and claim him when he went up on the sale block.
The thought usually didn’t bother him so much. He had had to make himself not care, or he would have gone crazy. Those he took into his house and bed were not forced to do anything intimate that they didn’t want to. Lex had seen what happened to a human when that was the case, and he never wanted to be the cause.
The thought of the young boy being another face with dead eyes, losing his youth and his innocence to lecherous old men, which Lex was almost sure he would, made him feel ill.
As if the boy could tell he was thinking about him, Lex found himself caught in the green gaze, his breath hitching as he felt something run through him, something he had never felt before.
A little voice whispering to him about destiny.
And then one of the men grabbed the boy, pushing to make him start walking, Lex not even realizing until then that they’d been staring at each other.
He couldn’t let the boy become another face. He wouldn’t. He could already feel the connection.
“Oliver,” Lex murmured quietly, his friend, having come to stand next to him while Bruce was off securing the village, looked at him curiously. “You see that boy?”
Oliver’s eyes followed where he was pointing, giving a short nod. “The boy with the emerald eyes?” Oliver asked, moving away at Lex’s nod, already thinking he knew what Lex wanted.
This time, however, Lex had no intention of taking part in what he usually did. The boy staying innocent was important to him. Lex felt that he had to take care of him, to protect him; it was part of Lex’s destiny, his legacy. Lex was almost sure of it.
Lex had the darkness, and this boy had the light.
None of his men would touch the prisoners before they returned home, Lex having shown them early on, ruthlessly, what would happen to any man that did, but he still wanted the boy close.
In case some of his newer knights tried to see how lenient Lex actually was on the law he had set down to his men.
Someone like the boy would tempt the Gods, Lex wasn’t about to leave him out there as a temptation.
Knowing Oliver would make sure the boy got to his tent, Lex walked through his men, getting an idea of how they were feeling, about the battle and the days it would take to return home.
Lex couldn’t help but smile a little.
He had conquered the village far sooner then his father had expected.
He wondered what quest he would be sent on next when he retuned home, and whether he would be allowed a longer rest this time.
His father never let him stay in the castle for too long. Lex thought his father might be fearful of the political allies Lex could gather if he was left in Metropolis for a longer period of time, fearful that Lex might do what, it was rumored, Lionel had done to his own father to gain the throne.
Moving back to his tent, confident in the knowledge that morale was high among his men, Lex had almost forgotten about the boy he had sent Oliver to bring to his tent.
Up close, the boy was even more breathtaking, surely someone that the Gods themselves had spent time creating. For no one Lex had seen from Earth looked as ethereally beautiful as the boy in front of him.
“Thank you, Oliver,” he said, watching as green eyes flicked to his face from under the boy’s fringe, a look that the boy surely had worked on perfecting. Lex’s heart picked up its pace from the one look.
And yet, the blush on his face told Lex that the boy probably didn’t even realize that he was doing anything worth attracting attention.
Moving further into the tent, he stopped just out of reach of the boy, wanting to touch, and telling himself that that wasn’t why he had had him brought to his tent.
“What’s your name?” he asked softly, watching as the boy shuffled on the spot.
“Clark,” the boy murmured quietly, looking up at him quickly, before dropping his eyes to the ground again.
“And how old are you, Clark?” Lex queried, moving closer, fingers slipping under the boy’s chin, and raising it so that Clark would meet his eyes, heart racing again as he felt a shock run through him when their eyes met.
“S-sixteen,” Clark murmured, the attractive blush still present on his cheeks. “Almost seventeen.”
Giving the young man a small smile, he let his thumb trace one of Clark’s cheekbones, the heat under his hand sending a thrill through him, Clark closing his eyes and standing stock still as he was stroked.
Something in Lex eased, as Clark’s warmth ran through him from the simple touch. The anger and rage that he usually had to work so hard at quashing started to recede.
Swallowing hard, he pulled his hand back, taking a step away and turning to walk over to his table, leaving temptation behind him.
His father would laugh at him, if he could see what Lex was doing, what he was thinking. He would tell him he was being too emotional, letting a peasant, a slave, get to him, influence him, when he was meant to be a mighty Prince.
The thought made Lex believe what he was doing was the right thing. Clark might be older then he thought, just, but he was clearly innocent and in need of protection.
He could hear Clark moving restlessly behind him.
“You’ll attend to me while we make our way back to our kingdom,” Lex said quietly, filling a goblet full of wine and taking a deep drink.
It was the only way he could think of explaining Clark’s presence without using the young man for pleasure. He didn’t usually have people attend to him, not even when he was home, hating the way people touched his hairless skin and stared, stared at the poor bald Prince, but he could have Clark help to pack things up when they were to move.
“For now,” he said, turning and indicating to the bed of furs. “Rest.”
Giving him a long look, Clark gave a small nod, before moving over to lie down on the bed stiffly.
Frowning, Lex wondered if the boy had never lain on furs before, and that was why he was so uncomfortable.
Should he have just offered the floor next to the bed?
“Lex,” Bruce said, coming into the tent, one eyebrow rising as he took in Clark lying stiffly on the bed, before turning to look in question at Lex.
Rolling his eyes, he moved towards the tent flap, turning to look at Clark just before he left.
“Sleep, Clark,” he murmured to the tense boy, before ducking out.
“He’s a bit young isn’t he?” Bruce asked, as they moved away from the tent, something shining in his eyes.
“I’m not … he’s … he’s only there to help attend to things,” he said, cursing the way he was stuttering and the disbelief on Bruce’s face.
“I’m serious,” he said, this time with more conviction. “I have no intention of taking advantage of Cla- the boy.”
Bruce stared hard at him for a long moment, eyes searching for something in his face.
“You seem more … relaxed,” Bruce said, a frown crossing his face in confusion.
“I always do after a successful battle,” Lex replied, trying to ignore the feelings running through him.
“No,” Bruce said, shaking his head, eyes flicking over to the flap of the tent again. “This is different.”
“Did you just come to talk about my ‘differences’?” Lex asked, the irritation he would usually feel not there, and he realized that Bruce was right.
There was something different.
Although, he didn’t want to look too closely at it.
“The village is secure, perimeter’s safe,” Bruce said, going through their usual report. “The villagers have stopped putting up a fight and are being cooperative.”
“Keep me updated,” Lex replied, noticing that Bruce still lingered. “What?”
“My spies say that Edge is moving faster then we originally thought,” Bruce said quietly, his eyes darkening.
Lord Morgan of Edge was one of the most dangerous men in his father’s kingdom, a criminal to his core, who wanted Lex gone or overcome with the darkness, so that he was no longer fit for the crown. He could then mold Lucas, make Lucas his puppet when Lionel was gone, and take the crown.
The weird thing was that Morgan was in fact one of Lionel’s closest acquaintances, Lex having known the man since birth. He had been something of an Uncle to Lex, until Lex had gone against one of his slave laws.
“He’s sent assassins out,” Bruce murmured quietly, moving closer to him. “I think we should move now.”
Bruce’s spies were the best, whenever they sent something to their boss, it was more fact then rumour.
“Night’s already starting to fall,” Lex said, looking around at the fading light. “And I think it would be more dangerous to head out now.”
Bruce looked at him closely for a few moments, before nodding his head.
“I’ll make sure that Oliver and I are on guard throughout the night,” he said, before turning and walking away.
Watching him, Lex decided to check that everything was in order himself. It was also an excuse to clear his mind, to stop the phantom thoughts running through his mind, which were trying to point something out to him that he wasn’t prepared to listen to.
When he returned to his tent, it was to a sight that would tempt even the strongest man.
Clark was lying on the bed.
Naked.
Next >>
Rating - NC-17
Pairing - Clark/Lex
Summary - Every day the darkness within Prince Lex grows, slowly stripping away the light and goodness in the young man.
A/N - banner again by the awesome tallihensia
Chapter 1
To be a Knight, there were certain aspects that the citizens and nobles of the kingdom expected.
You had to be valiant, charming, noble, generous and humble.
Not to mention a fearless warrior, and someone who would defend the kingdom at any cost.
Lex had been brought up in a home of expectations and beliefs. He had to have all the aspects of a knight, as well as those of the Crowned Prince of the powerful kingdom of Metropolis.
But there were aspects to the knights that the common people and most of the nobles did not know. A darkness that filled them, that ate away at their souls. If they didn’t find the other half of their soul, their soul mate, then the darkness would eventually take them, regardless of what they tried to do.
Every time they fought, that they took another life, they lost to the darkness a little bit more of their souls. With each lost piece, it became harder and harder to find their way back to the light.
Lex had more darkness then most, due to the life he had been brought up in. He’d lost his baby brother, Prince Julian, by his mother’s, Queen Lillian’s, own hand. He’d been battered and broken when fire had fallen from the sky and taken his hair. Probably most telling of all, he’d been raised by his father after his mother died when he was still but a boy.
Every day, Lex felt the darkness pulling him under, felt his world slowly dissolving, the light and laughter fading away, love being removed.
He’d thought when he’d met Lady Helen that he’d finally found someone who could help him take away the darkness, had thought that he’d finally met the person who was his light.
However, Helen hadn’t been his soul mate, as had been evident when she had tried to have him killed. A part of him wondered if his father had something to do with the whole fiasco.
And so every day, Lex tried to keep the darkness at bay, while still doing his knightly and Princely duties.
“Lex.”
Turning, he watched as Bruce stopped his dark horse next to him, his friend’s eyes taking him in for a moment, before returning to the valley, the village that Lionel had sent them to conquer.
Bruce hadn’t found his soul mate either, the same darkness that was filling Lex was in his friend’s eyes, but he used it, somehow molding it to suit him and his fighting ability, using it and the shadows to his advantage. He would have to find his soul mate soon, but not as soon as Lex.
Pushing the thoughts away, Lex let his eyes run over the plans for them taking the village.
It was strange that his father had sent his best knights to conquer a village that wouldn’t be difficult for any of the soldiers of Metropolis to defeat, but his father had made it clear that Lex was to bring the village under control and bring the younger and healthier of the people to the castle to ‘enhance’ the kingdom’s work force.
Lex was still trying to work out what his father really wanted with the village and its people.
“They’ll fight,” Bruce murmured, eyes still staring at the valley. “They may not be warriors, but they’ll fight for their families and for their village.”
Sighing, Lex nodded. He had hoped that the village elders could be reasoned with, that they could come to some kind of arrangement, but if Bruce thought there would be a fight, then there would be.
“There are strange stories about the village,” Bruce continued quietly. “They say that it was the town worse hit when the fire fell from the heavens, it’s given some of the people … strange abilities. We shouldn’t underestimate them.”
“When have we ever underestimated the enemy?” Lex asked, raising an eyebrow in question.
**
The villagers had put up a valiant effort against Lex and his Knights, although in the end they had been outmatched, the knights warriors who were used to fighting.
Bruce had been right about the villagers being more then they seemed. Lex had seen an empty space knock out one of his knights, before Bruce had thrown some kind of dye over the, what turned out to be, boy.
Another person had been able to control bugs.
Another moved faster then anything Lex had ever seen.
Another was able to lift things that were far too heavy for a single man.
As they had fought, Lex started to realize why his father was so interested in the small village.
Watching as the villagers were rounded up, Lex couldn’t help but feel saddened at those who had been lost. It had been a long time since he’d fought people who actually fought fairly, who fought only to save their people and land.
His men were gathering the men and women that would be sold off, watching the scared, fearful looks on their faces.
All of them with the same look, except one, a young boy, probably barely fifteen summers old, that Lex hadn’t been able to stop his eyes from straying to. The boy was beautiful, such an innocent gorgeous face, ebony hair falling softly around his head, deep green eyes that pulled you in, and a mouth that no person would be able to resist, resist kissing, resist fulfilling fantasies that made it hard for Lex to think straight.
The boy didn’t look scared, didn’t look fearful, he was looking around worriedly, concerned for his fellow villagers.
The boy wouldn’t be on the market long.
There would be many men, both here and back home who would take one look and claim him when he went up on the sale block.
The thought usually didn’t bother him so much. He had had to make himself not care, or he would have gone crazy. Those he took into his house and bed were not forced to do anything intimate that they didn’t want to. Lex had seen what happened to a human when that was the case, and he never wanted to be the cause.
The thought of the young boy being another face with dead eyes, losing his youth and his innocence to lecherous old men, which Lex was almost sure he would, made him feel ill.
As if the boy could tell he was thinking about him, Lex found himself caught in the green gaze, his breath hitching as he felt something run through him, something he had never felt before.
A little voice whispering to him about destiny.
And then one of the men grabbed the boy, pushing to make him start walking, Lex not even realizing until then that they’d been staring at each other.
He couldn’t let the boy become another face. He wouldn’t. He could already feel the connection.
“Oliver,” Lex murmured quietly, his friend, having come to stand next to him while Bruce was off securing the village, looked at him curiously. “You see that boy?”
Oliver’s eyes followed where he was pointing, giving a short nod. “The boy with the emerald eyes?” Oliver asked, moving away at Lex’s nod, already thinking he knew what Lex wanted.
This time, however, Lex had no intention of taking part in what he usually did. The boy staying innocent was important to him. Lex felt that he had to take care of him, to protect him; it was part of Lex’s destiny, his legacy. Lex was almost sure of it.
Lex had the darkness, and this boy had the light.
None of his men would touch the prisoners before they returned home, Lex having shown them early on, ruthlessly, what would happen to any man that did, but he still wanted the boy close.
In case some of his newer knights tried to see how lenient Lex actually was on the law he had set down to his men.
Someone like the boy would tempt the Gods, Lex wasn’t about to leave him out there as a temptation.
Knowing Oliver would make sure the boy got to his tent, Lex walked through his men, getting an idea of how they were feeling, about the battle and the days it would take to return home.
Lex couldn’t help but smile a little.
He had conquered the village far sooner then his father had expected.
He wondered what quest he would be sent on next when he retuned home, and whether he would be allowed a longer rest this time.
His father never let him stay in the castle for too long. Lex thought his father might be fearful of the political allies Lex could gather if he was left in Metropolis for a longer period of time, fearful that Lex might do what, it was rumored, Lionel had done to his own father to gain the throne.
Moving back to his tent, confident in the knowledge that morale was high among his men, Lex had almost forgotten about the boy he had sent Oliver to bring to his tent.
Up close, the boy was even more breathtaking, surely someone that the Gods themselves had spent time creating. For no one Lex had seen from Earth looked as ethereally beautiful as the boy in front of him.
“Thank you, Oliver,” he said, watching as green eyes flicked to his face from under the boy’s fringe, a look that the boy surely had worked on perfecting. Lex’s heart picked up its pace from the one look.
And yet, the blush on his face told Lex that the boy probably didn’t even realize that he was doing anything worth attracting attention.
Moving further into the tent, he stopped just out of reach of the boy, wanting to touch, and telling himself that that wasn’t why he had had him brought to his tent.
“What’s your name?” he asked softly, watching as the boy shuffled on the spot.
“Clark,” the boy murmured quietly, looking up at him quickly, before dropping his eyes to the ground again.
“And how old are you, Clark?” Lex queried, moving closer, fingers slipping under the boy’s chin, and raising it so that Clark would meet his eyes, heart racing again as he felt a shock run through him when their eyes met.
“S-sixteen,” Clark murmured, the attractive blush still present on his cheeks. “Almost seventeen.”
Giving the young man a small smile, he let his thumb trace one of Clark’s cheekbones, the heat under his hand sending a thrill through him, Clark closing his eyes and standing stock still as he was stroked.
Something in Lex eased, as Clark’s warmth ran through him from the simple touch. The anger and rage that he usually had to work so hard at quashing started to recede.
Swallowing hard, he pulled his hand back, taking a step away and turning to walk over to his table, leaving temptation behind him.
His father would laugh at him, if he could see what Lex was doing, what he was thinking. He would tell him he was being too emotional, letting a peasant, a slave, get to him, influence him, when he was meant to be a mighty Prince.
The thought made Lex believe what he was doing was the right thing. Clark might be older then he thought, just, but he was clearly innocent and in need of protection.
He could hear Clark moving restlessly behind him.
“You’ll attend to me while we make our way back to our kingdom,” Lex said quietly, filling a goblet full of wine and taking a deep drink.
It was the only way he could think of explaining Clark’s presence without using the young man for pleasure. He didn’t usually have people attend to him, not even when he was home, hating the way people touched his hairless skin and stared, stared at the poor bald Prince, but he could have Clark help to pack things up when they were to move.
“For now,” he said, turning and indicating to the bed of furs. “Rest.”
Giving him a long look, Clark gave a small nod, before moving over to lie down on the bed stiffly.
Frowning, Lex wondered if the boy had never lain on furs before, and that was why he was so uncomfortable.
Should he have just offered the floor next to the bed?
“Lex,” Bruce said, coming into the tent, one eyebrow rising as he took in Clark lying stiffly on the bed, before turning to look in question at Lex.
Rolling his eyes, he moved towards the tent flap, turning to look at Clark just before he left.
“Sleep, Clark,” he murmured to the tense boy, before ducking out.
“He’s a bit young isn’t he?” Bruce asked, as they moved away from the tent, something shining in his eyes.
“I’m not … he’s … he’s only there to help attend to things,” he said, cursing the way he was stuttering and the disbelief on Bruce’s face.
“I’m serious,” he said, this time with more conviction. “I have no intention of taking advantage of Cla- the boy.”
Bruce stared hard at him for a long moment, eyes searching for something in his face.
“You seem more … relaxed,” Bruce said, a frown crossing his face in confusion.
“I always do after a successful battle,” Lex replied, trying to ignore the feelings running through him.
“No,” Bruce said, shaking his head, eyes flicking over to the flap of the tent again. “This is different.”
“Did you just come to talk about my ‘differences’?” Lex asked, the irritation he would usually feel not there, and he realized that Bruce was right.
There was something different.
Although, he didn’t want to look too closely at it.
“The village is secure, perimeter’s safe,” Bruce said, going through their usual report. “The villagers have stopped putting up a fight and are being cooperative.”
“Keep me updated,” Lex replied, noticing that Bruce still lingered. “What?”
“My spies say that Edge is moving faster then we originally thought,” Bruce said quietly, his eyes darkening.
Lord Morgan of Edge was one of the most dangerous men in his father’s kingdom, a criminal to his core, who wanted Lex gone or overcome with the darkness, so that he was no longer fit for the crown. He could then mold Lucas, make Lucas his puppet when Lionel was gone, and take the crown.
The weird thing was that Morgan was in fact one of Lionel’s closest acquaintances, Lex having known the man since birth. He had been something of an Uncle to Lex, until Lex had gone against one of his slave laws.
“He’s sent assassins out,” Bruce murmured quietly, moving closer to him. “I think we should move now.”
Bruce’s spies were the best, whenever they sent something to their boss, it was more fact then rumour.
“Night’s already starting to fall,” Lex said, looking around at the fading light. “And I think it would be more dangerous to head out now.”
Bruce looked at him closely for a few moments, before nodding his head.
“I’ll make sure that Oliver and I are on guard throughout the night,” he said, before turning and walking away.
Watching him, Lex decided to check that everything was in order himself. It was also an excuse to clear his mind, to stop the phantom thoughts running through his mind, which were trying to point something out to him that he wasn’t prepared to listen to.
When he returned to his tent, it was to a sight that would tempt even the strongest man.
Clark was lying on the bed.
Naked.
Next >>