Note: This story is also available at Archive of Our Own.
"Come on, Lena!" Kara's little feet moved swiftly across the grass, her plain blue dress not at all hindering her.
"I'm movin' as fast as I can. You're always so quick!" Lena told her, holding up her pink, frilly dress to keep from tripping.
Every morning, for the past three years, she and Kara had done this — race to their special spot in the woods, just a little outside town.
They were children. And as children did, they took part in silly things. But to Lena, this wasn't silly — chasing Kara like this. As far as she was concerned, it was her life goal — one day catching up to the blonde.
"You're weak, Lena," Kara shouted over her shoulder, hurrying to scurry up a tree in a clear spot. The tallest and thickest tree in the area, they'd long considered it theirs.
"Yeah? Well, your head is big," Lena huffed, stopping to look up at the girl. "Your lips, too. Why, I've never seen a girl with such big lips."
"And you're small for your age," Kara fired back. "If you're this small only ten years in, you can't be that much taller when you're as old as my pa." She stood on a branch, leaning against the bark. She watched as Lena's green eyes trained on her blue ones before reflecting hurt.
Frowning, Lena offered the blonde her back. "I'm normal size," she pouted. "Mother says you're only a tad bit taller." Her gaze directed over her shoulder, briefly meeting Kara's.
"If that's what makes ya feel better." Kara shrugged, moving along a few more branches. "I'm eight and I put ya to shame."
Lena grit her teeth. Yes, she was shorter. In fact, she was the shortest of all the children her age. But did Kara always have to rub it in? "You should come down and give me my morning kiss if you're going to be this mean to me for the rest of the day." She watched the athletic girl swing from branch to branch, dress flying up with each move.
"You always want the morning kiss," Kara sighed, immediately working her way down the tree. "I don't even know why we started that." She landed on her feet.
"Because," Lena said, turning to her fully, "it's how we became friends. You said we should shake on it. I said we should kiss on it." She moved forward.
Kara rolled her eyes. "I know that. But why a kiss? And why every mornin'?"
Lena blushed, clasping her hands behind her back, eyes flashing innocently. "Because I see your mother and father do it every morning, even though they aren't supposed ta, and they seem to like it a lot." She moved closer to the girl, looking up at her. "And girls are allowed to kiss because of the no bodily-touching rule, remember?"
"Then do it already." Kara stomped her foot, practically whining. "I wanna get back ta climbing."
Lena leaned in and — as she did — Kara remembered that the brunette wasn't that much shorter than her, after all.
Their lips met, and it was pleasant. Lena held the kiss for longer than usual, playing with the simple, black and gray pebble necklace around Kara's neck as she did. But the nearby sound of crackling twigs pulled the two to a halt.
"Ooooh, I'm tellin' my papa. Bodily touching is forbidden," opined Mon-El a few feet away, holding on tightly to his britches.
The dark-haired boy was always holding up his britches.
"Girls are allowed ta kiss each other," Lena countered, sticking out her tongue for lack of anything better to add.
Kara shrugged, finally turning to the boy. "What do ya want?"
"Your ma said it's time for breakfast." Mon-El nodded earnestly.
"Well, then why are we still here?" Kara scolded them, instantly pushing past Lena and jetting ahead. "Last one there is -"
"- We know, we know," Lena sighed.
If there's another thing Lena knew, it was that Mon-El was just as fast as Kara and always managed to come in second place, grabbing onto his britches and all. "Kara! Mon-El! Wait!" she yelled.
They entered the relatively average-sized town. The thudding concussion of the blacksmith's hammer reverberated among the half-timbered homes scattered about, bouncing off the sides before echoing back into the confines of the workshop. Birds were startled from their perches and flung themselves into flight. A gray German Shepherd, sniffing in the gutter of the dirt road, chippered up when he saw his owner emerging from the shed with firewood. He was dressed in a simple cotton shirt, trousers and boots, like most men in their town. The women, wearing long plain dresses, and mostly barefoot, tended to their daily duties; some hanging shirts, trousers and blankets on nearby clothing lines; others sat on the porch peeling potatoes or some other vegetable as children played nearby.
Two women rounded up turkeys toward the farm area, just as Kara, Mon-El and Lena came bounding up the road.
"What have we told ya three about racing through the community?" The plumper of the women, carrying a basketful of apples, said as she had been close to being run down.
"Sorry, Ms. Merriam," the children uttered in unison, hurrying into Kara's home a few feet ahead.
Ms. Merriam shook her head and turned to the other woman. "It's that Lena Luthor. The girl's been a bad influence on those youngins since they befriended her."
The other woman nodded in agreement as they stared at the home in question.
Inside, Kara and the others gathered around the kitchen table. Kara's mother, Eliza Danvers, was busy setting down plates of porridge and bread while Kara's older sister, Alex, helped. They weren't her blood relatives, but they had taken her in at age four after her birth parents had died from pneumonia. The town doctor had said Kara was fortunate that she hadn't come down with it as well.
In the aftermath, and to get over the pain of losing her parents, Kara had indulged in war history stories. Eliza had found them too violent and unbecoming of a lady, but Jeremiah, her husband, had encouraged them. The finality of death and that it happened to everyone helped bring Kara closure. She learned that the War of 1812 came to an end in 1815. Eventually, the United States developed a sweeping transportation system, interstate trade, and a national bank. As the economy flourished, canals, roads, cities, and industrialization expanded. The War of 1812 and England's loss also resulted in westward expansion, but at the cost of Native Americans being pushed out more rapidly.
The only thing Kara had studied more than war was food. Because innovations in transportation had been underdeveloped in 1815, most Americans ate what they grew or hunted locally. This included bean, corn, and pork. Cows provided milk, butter, and beef, and this mainly took place in the north. In the south, cattle was harder to come by; so venison and other game was the meat mostly afforded them. Refrigeration hadn't yet become significant enough to be commonplace. Smoking, drying, or salting meat had been their means of preserving the animal flesh. Vegetables were kept in a root cellar or pickled.
But now, in 1858, things were a lot different. Kara's interests had also drifted toward hammers and molding weapons.
She briefly pulled out her spectacles and stared at them with a sense of loss. They had belonged to her father and they were all she had left of her birth parents. Mon-El seemed to notice her sorrow and rubbed her back, despite the fact that he was supposed to keep his hands to himself.
"You're joining us this morning, Mon-El?" Eliza asked, ignoring the innocent contact between the children.
"Yes, ma'am," Mon-El said, smiling up at the slender, light-haired woman. "Grandpa said it was alright. That if Lena gets to come over every morning, there's no reason that I shouldn't be able to."
Lena smacked her teeth, flipping her long dark hair. This was supposed to be her time with Kara. It's been that way for as long as she could remember — the two of them having breakfast, dinner and just about everything else together.
Lena's mother had died when she was two, and so all she'd had left was her father, who'd had a wife and son. They didn't know about Lena until her mother died and she was orphaned. Eventually, her father took her in. So, in some respects, she was similar to Kara. Her father was akin to the sheriff of the town, only they didn't call him that. They called him the overseer. Lena didn't know much about what he oversaw, except for the rule that boys and girls, and men and women, were not to touch each other without good reason. In this context, ''good reason" usually meant to assist someone with an overwhelming plight. Married couples were allowed to touch, but only under certain circumstances, which Lena was not privy to. She knew that kissing was off-limits. She also knew that her father didn't have the best reputation in town and that he hadn't known a thing about raising a girl or taking care of someone, least of all cooking for the person. Her stepmother usually hadn't cared to put in much effort, doting on her son instead. So, for Lena, Kara's home had become a second home of sorts. Here, Lena was treated like a member of the Danvers family. Here, she was given a second mother in Eliza and a second father in Jeremiah.
Although Lena had known Mon-El for just as long, he'd always seemed more like a guest than a brother when visiting. And with a grandfather who cooked better than most women in town, it's a wonder why he wanted to eat here at all.
"He has his own home he can go to," Lena pouted.
"So does she," Mon-El countered, biting into some bread.
"There now, you're both welcome here," Kara's father, Jeremiah, said entering the room to take a seat. Tall, dark-haired, and stern, he added, "Kara and Mon-El will be married someday, so you might as well start being nice to each other now." He proceeded to butter up his bread.
Kara took note of the assertion, but ignored it by slurping up some porridge.
Mon-El bit into his bread happily, a smug look gracing his features. But Lena was having none of it. "Eww," she groaned, shaking her head in protest. "Kara's not marrying him. Kara's marrying me."
Kara and Mon-El's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets, looking to the girl. Alex smiled.
"Don't be silly, child," Eliza said, sitting at the table, placing a cloth in her lap. "Women can't marry each other."
Kara watched Lena, and Lena watched Kara, both staring in curiosity.
IIII
Kara and Lena looked up at the ceiling of Kara's dark bedroom, lying side by side. It was nighttime and Lena was staying over again, as she often did. This night, however, both of them were finding it difficult to sleep.
"Are you really going to marry him?" Lena whispered.
"My pa says I am. So I reckon I will." Kara put an arm under her head, propping it.
Lena turned to her, hugging her close. "Please don't marry him."
Kara shrugged. "Okay... I won't."
IIII
The next time Kara and Lena saw each other, it was two weeks later. Lena's father had found a job in the city and the Luthors were moving. Kara hadn't gotten a warning. Neither had Lena. So, when Kara saw her on the horse-drawn conveyance, being pulled farther and farther away from the Luthor residence, the tears were unexpected and that much stronger.
"Kara!" Lena called out as Kara ran to keep up with the cart. It wasn't going particularly fast, but this wouldn't have stopped Kara anyhow.
"Lena," the blonde said, reaching the raven-haired girl as she jogged alongside the cart.
"Promise me you'll remember me," Lena pleaded.
"I will, I will," Kara vowed, wiping at her eyes. "Here." She took off her necklace and threw it into Lena's lap. "You remember me too."
Lena stared at her. She couldn't form any more words, and she didn't know why. She clutched the necklace tight to her chest and hoped her gratitude would be conveyed from this gesture alone.
The cart sped up and Kara slowed her pace. She watched as her childhood friend rode out of her life and toward the sunset.
IIII
Eighteen years later, in 1876, Lena Luthor had returned.
As Kara hammered away in the blacksmith shop, she overheard the men talking. The herders, who had stopped in town for utensils, discussed the news among themselves. This made its way to the gossipers, who couldn't believe that a fancy city girl was returning to this relatively obscure town. From what they had heard, she was a troublemaker, right along with her father. Sure, her father had been the town's overseer, but rumor had it that he'd been corrupted and never abided by the rules himself. Taking that into account, the impure city life had no doubt sent him and his family farther down the path of corruption. Newer residents, however, considered giving this Lena woman the benefit of the doubt. That she had apparently been a rambunctious child, breaking the town's codes and left and right, didn't faze them. The town's latest overseer had resigned, with a need for a new one, and if Lena was to take her father's place in this regard, they were willing to give her a chance.
One blacksmith burning charcoal to heat and soften the iron said that she was a great beauty.
"It's the great beauties one has to watch out for," Mon-El replied, tossing a grin Kara's way.
Kara rolled her eyes. She was beginning to think that working alongside Mon-El had been a misguided idea. But she'd always wanted to be a blacksmith, having loved the way the hammer struck iron or steel, the smell of the charcoal. Trade schools for her craft didn't yet exist. For a boy to learn to be a blacksmith, he worked with an experienced smith. The boys were named apprentices. While some apprentices held formal contracts with their masters, others gained their knowledge by working with their father. Jeremiah was a blacksmith; he didn't want Kara working in this field, saying that she needed to be more lady-like and settle down, but he and Eliza had reluctantly agreed to allow Kara to follow her own career path. Since they had an extra daughter, Alex would take up the traditional womanly duties. Kara essentially became the son they never had.
Kara had always felt guilty about Alex essentially having the life of a seamstress handed to her; she figured that Alex had wanted to set her own course as well. But Alex, being the doting and compassionate older sister she'd always been, had never complained.
Smithing didn't bring Kara much money. A blacksmith could expect to earn $1.00 to $1.50 per day. Some charged as little as 2¢ to make a simple small item. But a number of young blacksmiths bought land as they aged and deliberately did more farming and less smithing over the years. Kara had bought two pieces of land so far.
Eventually, Mon-El, who had been attempting to court her since they were in their mid teens, even while occasionally taking an interest in other women, had decided to work with her. Kara hadn't protested. He wasn't very good at smithing since he had missed out on years of perfecting the craft, but she got along with him for the most part. She couldn't blame him for thinking that spending more time with her was likely to make her more receptive to his advances, but she couldn't help feeling like she was leading him on. Already they were 26, and she still hadn't gone through with marrying him like their parents had promised. Many now considered her an old maid.
There were also the rules. She had been promised to Mon-El from birth, as it was their town's custom to arrange marriages for children while in the womb. Should one of the women in the contract miscarry, the living child would be wed to the next child the other woman produced. If the other woman never produced another child, the living child would be assigned another mate. Technically, Kara hadn't broken the arranged marriage contract since she had not verbally declined to marry Mon-El, but she knew others in town likely saw her as a rule breaker the longer she held off.
Sex before marriage was entirely out of the question; so everyone knew she was a virgin as well. She and Mon-El, just like every other opposite-sex pairing, were not allowed to kiss until marriage. Once married, kissing and sex were to be restricted to the act of producing a child. The town didn't want more mouths than it could feed. And, in their view, kissing, even a peck on the cheek, and other forms of intimacy between opposite-sex pairings of reproductive age, eventually led to sex. So a "no bodily-touching rule," which mostly applied to opposite-sex pairings, had been put in place. Men could not even hug their own daughters. So Kara had never been hugged by either of her fathers. Men could not kiss men, for it was considered deviant. Women could kiss women, but it was never to be prolonged, deep, or lead to sexual touching, for such touching between women was deviant. Men and women were not to be outside past seven o'clock in the evening, for surely they were looking to be deviant with one another. Music was not to be played, for it was deviant. The Devil was in the music, the town believed. Other than a hum she remembered from her birth mother, Kara was sure she'd never heard music.
There were rules upon rules, and not all of them, especially the sexual ones, were easy to enforce. But Kara had always remembered the core ones, and abided by those and the less serious ones as best she could. The overseer not only had to enforce these rules, but the typical laws, such as the ones on murder, theft and rape, as well. Kara felt that it must be such a burden to inherit such a title. It was no wonder why the previous overseer had resigned.
"Oh?" She finally looked to Mon-El, responding to him. "I don't know enough about great beauties to have any such say on the matter." She went back to hammering, but realized that she was curious as to how Lena might have changed. What sights the raven-haired woman might have seen beyond this town. And, although she hated to ponder it, she wondered if Lena even remembered her.
How could Lena not remember her?
Mon-El had stopped hammering and was now staring her way. "You should look in the mirror sometime," he said, before putting his smithing tools down, rubbing his hands on his blacksmith apron, and exiting the blacksmith shop. He always got annoyed when she downplayed her looks. He loved to go on about how he had the most beautiful girl in town. Kara didn't have time for such ego-stroking.
She put away her utensils as well and walked to her private office in the back, closing the door and sitting at her desk to think as others continued to work. Her father owned this shop, and this was the only reason she, or Mon-El, could afford such breaks. It wasn't fair to the others, but Kara always made it up to them by working overtime.
She sat back in her chair, thinking things over. Even with Lena back, what did it matter? They hadn't seen each other since they were children, and that seemed like ages ago. They were strangers now, and Lena had grown up in the city. It wouldn't be the same. And Kara wasn't sure that she wanted it to be. A bitterness had remained with her since that day. She knew it wasn't Lena's fault that Lena had up and left, but the resentment was still there. And it was potent.
"Ms. Danvers?"
Kara looked up to see a worker standing in her doorway. "Letter," the man said, laying it on her desk before walking out.
Kara opened it with haste; she didn't get many letters. But this wasn't a letter. It was a note, from Lena, telling Kara to meet with her in the overseer's building at four o'clock in the evening. It was two o'clock in the evening now. Sighing, Kara rubbed at her temples in annoyance. The note wasn't even polite. It was essentially an order. Was Lena so haughty that she felt she didn't need to visit Kara herself after all this time? She could simply have someone fetch her as though an owner fetching a dog? And why two hours from now? Was Lena really not that eager to see her?
Kara stood, balling the note up in her hand. She would set Lena Luthor straight. Right now.
IIII
Briefly squinting against the sun, Kara placed her spectacles on and headed on the path toward the overseer's building. She hadn't even bothered to clean up her appearance. If Lena Luthor was so determined to see her, she would see her raw.
Kara chanced a look at the women's clothing store a little to her left and scoffed. Silly frilly things. She'd never needed them.
A group of women passed her by, including Ms. Merriam, who said hello. Kara nodded, and she could hear Ms. Merriam telling the other ladies how nice and pretty Kara was, but that she wasn't very lady-like and it was a shame she hadn't found a husband yet.
Kara made it to the front door of the two-story overseer's building. Her heart was pounding a mile a minute, but she pushed onward. There wasn't anything to fear. She would see Lena, give her a piece of her mind and call it a day. Simple as that.
"Lovely day, ain't it, Kara?"
She turned to see a farmer, Mr. Ray, tipping his hat at her as he walked his horse. "It is," she replied, knowing she felt that it was anything but. As she turned back toward the door, she had to steady her shaking hand on the doorknob. It's now or never, she told herself.
She entered slowly, and as she looked around, it dawned her that she'd never been inside of the place. Neither she nor her family had ever broken the rules, other than the morning kisses shared between her parents; so she'd never needed to visit the overseer's building. She surveyed the area. A few chairs lined a wall in what appeared to be the waiting area at the right. The walls were plain white, but were covered by drawings of people who had broken a serious rule and served as an example of what not to do. Sunlight filtered in through the double windows and gave a shine to the floor's scuff marks. One large desk in the center and a smaller one to her left made the room look smaller than it was. Three doors were present at the back.
Kara moved to the side of the large desk and saw folders stacked on a table. Examining a few, it was clear that these were old and recent cases of people who had broken the rules. It appeared that Lena would be wasting no time dishing out punishments.
"Couldn't wait to see me?"
Kara jumped at the sound of the feminine voice, instinctively hiding the folders in her hand behind her back as though a child caught attempting to steal treats.
Lena stood by the front door. The woman was older now, of course, but Kara recognized those eyes. There had been no forgetting those vibrant green eyes. Or the lovely raven hair, which now sat in an elaborate bun at the back of her head. Her skin was as pale as it always had been, and was offset by dramatic red lipstick, which also seemed to somehow brighten her skin tone. She wore a black bodice over a white gown. And Kara could see that, from her vivacious feather hat set at an angle, to her high-end shoes, she was dressed to impress.
Lena stepped toward Kara, her face flashing with something recognizable and then something completely foreign. Kara hadn't realized that she was backing away until a wall pressed against her back. She expected Lena to stop advancing, but the woman didn't. Piercing green eyes flickered over Kara's face and body as though they were assessing whether or not to purchase the goods before them. The eyes hardened, then softened again. The absence of the woman's baby face made her lips appear fuller than Kara remembered. "I suppose it's too late in the day to ask for my morning kiss," Lena whispered in her ear.
Kara's ear felt like it was on fire.
Lena smiled, using a hand to slowly push away from the wall and the other to retrieve the folders from Kara's grip. She moved to walk behind the desk, immediately organizing papers.
Kara wondered if this was what it felt like to have whiplash. "Is that all you have ta state to me?" she asked. "After all these years?" She could feel her anger building.
Lena put the papers down and looked at her. "Well, I would tell you that you've grown into your forehead and lips. Or suggest you bathe." She looked Kara over again, seeing the coal and soot on her face and clothing. It was even in the blonde's hair. "But that would be rude."
"So we're back to teasin' again. Is that it?" Kara pushed the spectacles back up on her face, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Spectacles were considered evidence of old age and infirmity, which is why people preferred to wear spectacles only when they were needed. This was particularly true for women, who, if they could afford them, opted to wear hand-held designs such as the lorgnette to avoid having glasses on their faces. And with how Lena had just scrutinized her, Kara was willing to bet that Lena didn't like her wearing spectacles either.
"Now, Kara," Lena said, leaning lazily against the desk, "you know as well as I that teasing is what we did best." A smirk played at her lips.
Kara took a moment to look to the floor. She removed her spectacles; she wanted Lena to see her clearly. "Don't you remember how we ended?" Tears had started to build in her eyes, and Lena's face softened.
"I do," Lena said, tossing her hat on the counter and moving to Kara. "Very much."
They stood close. So close that Kara could see that now, as adults, she was only two inches taller than the woman. She could see the blue and yellow of her eyes. She was close enough to hear the woman's breathing. Close enough to analyze the tiny scar next to her right eye. Kara's fists balled as she remembered touching that scar when they were children. Lena had gotten it after running into a stray branch. It hadn't been bad, but the brunette had needed stitches.
Kara closed her eyes. She could feel Lena's arms encircle her. Lena's scent was all around. It was a distinct combination of innocence and provocation, and it flowed through Kara in a way that made her shudder. She hadn't seen Lena in so many years. And now the woman's arms were around her, pressing their bodies impossibly close. Kara felt like she would implode if she hugged back. So, instead, she stepped away.
"Why did ya call me here?" she asked breathlessly, forcing her eyes to open.
"Why else?" Lena's brows furrowed in confusion. "We have...unfinished business."
Now it was Kara who made a confused expression.
"The promises we made to each other?" Lena clarified. "To never forget each other." She chuckled softly, but it came out more nervous-sounding than anything. "I don't know about you, but I took it as a vow to meet again someday."
Kara shook her head. "I never expected to see you again."
Lena arched a brow. "Really? Can I take this to mean that you have a husband and child stashed somewhere in town?" She sounded angry now.
Kara's head was beginning to hurt. "You are the one who left me!" she countered, her voice raising. "And why are ya making it seem like I promised you my hand in marriage? We were children!"
"My god, Kara, I didn't have a choice!" Lena moved closer. "And you told me you wouldn't marry."
"I said I wouldn't marry Mon-El."
"Did you?"
Kara stopped then, placing a hand to her head as her mind analyzed things disbelievingly. Why was she being lectured like this? And by a woman she hadn't seen in eighteen years. A woman she didn't know anymore. So many people had asked her about her failure to marry Mon-El. Had ridiculed her for it. She didn't need this from Lena as well.
"You don't get ta come back into my life after all these years and ask me personal questions," she spat, moving toward the front door and opening it.
"Kara," Lena's voice could be heard breaking.
Kara turned around to view the woman; she had one hand against the large desk, as if she were steadying herself. Her eyes locked onto Kara's, intense and pleading.
"Did you marry Mon-El?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
"I did." Kara took her leave, slamming the door behind her.