it has been more than one year since i wrote dark horse, and to be honest, i didn't really think i'd ever come back to it
but here i am - inspiration strikes at the oddest time, and out comes this weird little nugget that makes absolutely no sense with almost zero worldbuilding
i don't expect much response to this - just wanted to write something
now, read, ponder, and enjoy!
She says to me: 'I've never been the warm one.'
And I tell her: 'You are a billion suns.'
-Kirsten Uhde, For Her
Rumor had it that Queen Lena of the Luthoria kingdom couldn't be wooed, and that rumor would have been right. Ask the queen herself, and she would have smirked and not give it another thought, but inside, she would have been glad that those rumors were swirling about.
Rumor also had it that there was a thief lingering in the castle. Uncatchable and unrecognizable – so good at hiding their footfalls and face that it could be anyone in any room. That rumor, Lena didn't like one bit.
"It has been one month," Lena pointed out to her captain of the guard – useless, useless Benjamin Lockwood. "And you have yet to show any result, Sir Lockwood."
"My apologies, Your Majesty."
"Apologies don't catch me thieves, do they?" Lena spat out.
Oh, she would have loved to terminate Benjamin Lockwood's tenure – better yet, she would prefer to have him hanged. Be rid of the last remnants of her brother's toxic, albeit short, regime.
But regardless of her reputation, this was still a land of law, and her brother may not have respected it, she damn well would. As the queen of Luthoria, she would always be feared – she would never be able to escape that reputation – but she could also be respected.
"I have increased the size of the guards. I have instructed increased patrols at night. I have dispatched private consultants in search of the thief," Lockwood announced, with a face so smug, like it was something to proud of.
"So you have emptied my coffers, and still have not caught the thief."
He faltered. "Your Majesty –"
"Sir Lockwood, if you cannot even find me an interloper in a castle that you claim to know like the back of your hand, then what use do I have of you?"
It was that statement that set him off. She could tell by the way he fidgeted with his fingers and his features tighten, as if his face wasn't enough to scare the precious deer off by itself. Men were so easy to read, and Lockwood was one of the easiest of them all.
She tilted her head and raised her brows in challenge, basically daring him to draw the sword. Simply give her a reason and let her get rid of him. For treason. For attempt to murder his ruler. Whatever it could be, there was a law, and she would hang him if he broke even a little bit of it.
In the end, to her disappointment, he bowed his head, excusing himself, and walked out of the doors of the throne room. Perhaps to cry in his little corner for having allowed himself to be berated by a woman who was merely a bastard.
But of course, Lockwood was so incompetent that the thief apparently had had enough. Or some such. So much so that they decided to make themselves known. Serve themselves up on a silver platter for reasons yet unknown.
Here was how it happened. The queen and her chancellor were on one of their weekly hunting trips. It was a standing appointment, between two friends who had known each other longer than anyone had known them. A friendship struck by a match resultant of Lena's wandering nature and Sam being a child of a handmaiden.
There was no one Lena trusted more. And Sam was perhaps the only person in the entire world, much less the kingdom, who knew Lena's dirtiest secrets.
"You like it."
"Perhaps I do."
"Of course it would take a thief to interest you."
"My captain of the guard is a moron. I shouldn't be intrigued."
"And yet."
"And yet," Lena agreed, smiling at the thought of a mischievous thief wandering her property.
Lena and Sam reached a relatively quiet clearing, where there was a dirt path leading into the woods. They dismounted from their horses, tied them to a tree, fed them some seeds to keep them docile, and proceeded to enter the forest, bows and swords in hand.
Sam was right, as she often was.
There was a part of Lena that wanted the thief to stay hidden. Stay as elusive as they had been since rumors of their presence began five months ago. She liked the thrill of it; she liked not knowing who the thief was and what the thief wanted, because thus far, not a single item in this castle had been stolen, save for a single sword from the treasury.
She liked the thrill of it, because she was so incredibly bored.
"The grandmaster has been talking my ear off," Sam complained once they reached a clearing where they had last hunted a deer.
Lena sniffled with displeasure, her bow nocked as she leaned against a fallen tree. "One would think they would desist with the thought of marrying me off again after he died so soon," she grumbled.
Lena liked being a woman. She liked the tiaras and the gowns and the pampering baths on a nightly basis.
One thing she didn't like about being a woman was that she would apparently only secure her position as queen if she had a spouse in her bed. As if only by being married could she be truly recognized as a queen, not the tax breaks she had bestowed upon the people or the jobs she had created.
"Can you even call him your husband when you did not even consummate?" Sam remarked with a smirk, her sword brandished, prepared to defend Lena if necessary.
"Well, we did swear in front of god."
"You do not believe in god."
"I do not."
Almost immediately, Lena spotted a deer and tightened her hold on the string, ready to release whenever a weak spot made itself known. And just when she was about the loose the arrow, leaves rustled behind them, accompanied by audible footsteps. Almost deliberate.
"A queen that does not believe in god. How admirable."
Lena and Sam swung around, bow nocked tightly and sword raised sharply. In front of them was a blonde woman who wore glasses, hair shining effervescently under the shade of the trees, a mischievous smile upon her face, a knowing glint in her eyes. Without introduction, Lena knew who this was.
"This is bold," Lena remarked upon realizing who she was talking to, lowering her bow despite Sam's warning.
"I can be reckless," the blonde said with a shrug.
Lena tilted her head, observing the undeniably striking woman who had served herself up on a platter. "Of all things, I did not expect our elusive thief to be a woman," she told Sam carelessly as she replaced her bow on her back. She turned back to the thief and said, "I hope you realize that you cannot escape."
The woman shrugged again. "That is the point."
Lena narrowed her eyes, finding herself more intrigued than she had ever been now that she finally met the ghost who had haunted her castle for the better part of the year. She would like to speak more, but for now, she inclined her head and watched Sam cuff the thief.
Talking could come later.
Weak masculinity demanded that Lockwood throw a tantrum the moment he realized that two women – regardless of the fact that they were his queen and chancellor respectively – had captured the thief before he did. They didn't bother telling him that the thief had made it much easier for them, enjoying his display of male pride a little too much.
And when he practically demanded that he and his guards be allowed to question the thief immediately, Lena waved him off, directing him to return to his guardly duties and leave the questioning to her. On any other day, she would have obliged, but this thief was much too intriguing and she had many questions.
She made her way down to the dungeons, still garbed in her hunting habit, all too impatient to change to her gown. She wanted to know who the woman was; for her courage and utter imperiousness, Lena would allow her some reprieve from the gallows. For now.
"Tell me your name," she demanded as soon as the soldier had unlocked the door to the cell they had thrown the thief in.
To her credit, the blonde didn't seem much moved by the fact that she was trapped and had nowhere to run. She was munching on a piece of stale bread, seemingly satisfied by the squalor she had been placed in.
The blonde tilted her head, swallowing the food. "Kara, Your Majesty" she offered brightly.
Lena squinted at the smile on the thief's – Kara – face. "Do you like my castle, Kara?" she asked blithely, taking a seat on the short stool a soldier had brought in. Kara tilted her head, curious. "I only ask, seeing as you have been making your comfortable for the better part of the year, and you refuse to leave. And you do not steal anything."
"Your castle is dreary, Your Majesty," Kara replied honestly. Lena raised her brows, not necessarily in disagreement with the blonde. "You should decorate it more. Those guards of yours, especially. They're too…male," Kara added with a mock sneer.
"Well then, if you hate this castle so much, why do you haunt it like a poltergeist?"
"I heard the rumors of the queen who ascended the throne only six months after her brother did. I had to see her for herself."
Lena would never admit it in a million years, but she was flattered. It had been forever since she felt anything of the sort – not by courtly visitors or rulers who vied for her hand or former mothers-in-law who still wanted to curry her favor. And yet here was a thief, who said little pretty words, and Lena was flattered.
She leaned back slightly, waving a hand in the air. "I hope you like your accommodations." Kara shrugged. "I suppose as punishment for your loitering, I should chop off your legs."
"Then how will I entertain you?"
"Entertain me?"
"I have been watching you," Kara admitted. "I cannot seem to keep my eyes off of you, Your Majesty." She would not blush. She was a queen – queens did not blush. "You are – well, benevolent isn't quite the word, is it? You are fair. You are everything your brother and father were not. And you are so very bored."
Alright, enough was enough.
Lena refused to let Kara see through her like so. No more lingering the in the castle. No more watching her from a corner. This thief would remain in this cell until Lena deemed it time to behead her. Or hang her. Or chop off her legs. Or all of the above.
Rising to her feet, the queen gestured vaguely and the door was unlocked again. A soldier rushed in to remove the stool and shoot the thief a glare. Lena stopped at the door and looked back at Kara, who had returned to munching stale bread.
"I killed my father and brother, you know?"
Kara hummed. "I figured."
"You did?"
"I did tell you that I have been watching you, yes?"
Lena fought a smile, nodded, and walked away. She left the dank dungeons that the thief would live the rest of her life if Lena decided to merciful, and went to change, all while thinking about the things she had done to come to this place.
At the age of seven and ten, the queen – then princess – of Luthoria had become a murderer. She had blood of her blood on her hands, and she couldn't find it in herself to truly regret it. Not really.
Her father died, because Lena had poisoned him. Her brother died, because Lena had beheaded him. And she was here, because she had her stepmother exiled and she killed her own family. But here was the thing, she had never wanted to be queen. She had never wanted the throne. More than anything, she wanted to run away and pretend to have nothing to do with the Luthor royal family.
She had raised that sword with the full knowledge that she would be next on the throne, but she had never wanted it. Not in a million years.
Not since learning that this country was built on the backs of innocent men and women and children. Not since learning that her father had established it by snatching lands that did not belong to claim as his own forever and ever. Not since witnessing the way her brother's descent from a benevolent and innovative man to a mad king who only wanted all to himself.
She did not want to be her brother or her father, but she also couldn't allow the two of them to pillage this empire to nothingness just because of their sadism and madness. Therefore, she dripped the poison and she raised the sword, sealing her fate for a long time to come.
Before she knew it, before she even realized that she wanted it, Kara became…a friend. Or as much as a prisoner destined for the gallows could be a friend. Or as much as a queen could have friends, for that matter. Even Sam had to watch herself the moment Lena was crowned.
Lena found herself growing more and more impatient with the court, wanting a total overhaul and install people she could trust, rather than the vultures who had licked her brother's heels and endeared themselves without merit at all. They were the people who ran this country to the ground before Lena picked it back up again, and she hated that she had to keep them.
She found herself wanting reprieve. Something even Sam couldn't give her fully, because Sam was her chancellor. And so, every day, after lunch, Lena would make her way back down the dungeons and seek out the thief, who wasn't so much as languishing. The blonde seemed to be biding her time, but Lena couldn't figure out what.
"You are not Luthorian," Lena observed after the third time Kara had asked her to tell her something about her country.
Kara shook her head. "I hail from Krypton."
And well, Lena was not exactly surprised. Of course Krypton would send a thief to Luthoria – their relationship had deteriorated as soon as Lionel had defected from the court and decided to establish his own kingdom. Kudos to him though; he succeeded, which was not an easy feat.
Lena had secretly requested that Sam find ways to repair their relationship. Luthoria was still in its youth, and Lockwood had done his very best to make sure their army was at its very worst. She needed the men and strength, if only to fend off Daxam if Rhea decided to avenge her son one day.
And now, here was a thief from Krypton. Lena could only imagine the information Kara had siphoned back to her own kingdom.
"Are you a spy or a thief?"
"Can I not be both?"
"You must be very skillful."
"Is it vain to say that I am a legend among thieves?" Kara said with a self-satisfying smile. "Though I suppose I haven't been much of one since I came here." Lena raised her brows. "I cannot remember the last time I dined with my family."
So the thief had a family, and Lena found herself more intrigued. She had figured after one conversation with Kara, she would be back to boredom.
And yet reality told her differently. Every conversation became a match for other conversations, and she kept lighting up the matches just to keep the fire lit. It was entirely uncharacteristic of her, even she could admit that. Not once had she ever condoned a criminal like she had condoned this thief.
"I watched you marry Mon-El, you know," Kara observed.
"You know him?"
Yes, her late husband, who had died three years prior and returned to Daxam – she did not want his body soiling her grounds anymore than he already had. Everyday, she was glad that Mon-El had died and she wouldn't have to look at his face again.
"Since we were children," Kara explained, eyeing Lena carefully, as if she knew something the queen didn't. "I punched him once. In hindsight, I should not even have engaged him in any manner."
"How so?"
"Because he decided that I like him just because I punched him."
Lena snorted, and Kara's eyes lit up. The raven-haired woman schooled her features again, regretting her slip immediately. Queens did not snort, or so her stepmother used to tell her before she was shipped away to a distant island.
She would like to ask more things. For example, how did a thief come to know a prince? But she decided she would keep that to a later date. Keep Kara alive a little longer.
"I have something to tell you."
"Do go on."
Kara looked around and shot a dark glance at Lockwood, who had apparently deemed it necessary to stand guard when Lena decided to take Kara out on a walk. Chained at the hands and ankles of course, as she was still a criminal. She did not know what came into her to allow Kara this freedom, but she refused to dwell on it.
The blonde licked her lips and leaned against a tree. "My name is Kara Zor-El. My parents are the rulers of Krypton. And they want you dead."
Lena kept her features calm. Unmoved. She stood in the clearing, glad that Lockwood was out of earshot, and resisted the urge to demand for Kara's hanging right this moment. She clenched her jaw and watched her not-friend, waiting for more information.
Kara was looking at everything and anything but her. For once, Lena saw guilt on her face, much unlike the casual and carefree way she had carried herself since her capture a month ago. She had sat in that cell and revealed nothing of herself but the things she wanted Lena to know.
And now, the queen was reaping the price of her own unqueenly intrigue. She should have chopped Kara's legs off the moment she was thrown into the cell.
"They did not trust your father. They did not trust your brother. They do not trust you. And they want the Luthor roots eliminated once and for all," Kara continued.
"How refreshing," Lena deadpanned.
Kara nodded and shrugged. "I was sent to spy on your brother. And then you killed him. And you became queen. And I realized that I am incapable of letting you die," she admitted, chewing her lower lip. "I have a proposal."
"What is it?"
"No, I quite literally have a proposal," Kara said, abruptly pushing away from the tree to stand in front of Lena, still all chained up. "Marry me. Let me be your wife. And my parents will have no grounds to kill you," she pleaded, desperate and unerring.
Lena blinked. Again and again. She kept blinking until she had to laugh. She stepped away and put up a hand to stop Lockwood from interfering with their conversation. Taking one long look at Kara, she realized that the blonde meant it.
"Are you quite insane?" she nearly screeched.
"I haven't been sane since I saw you."
"I cannot marry you."
"Why not?"
"You are a thief and a criminal."
"I am a princess. And I am quite possibly the only person who can protect you."
"I have an army."
"Your army is weak. Your captain of the guard is weak-willed man who works for only coins. You will not survive against Krypton's strength," Kara hissed, crowding into Lena's space. "Marry me, Lena," she spoke the queen's name for the first time since they'd known each other. "Let me be by your side. Let me make sure you can rule as the fair queen you are for as long as you can."
"You are impervious."
"I love you."
Lena gasped. She frowned deeper and shook her head. "You cannot." Kara frowned. "No one loves me. I am Lena Luthor and I am unlovable."
The blonde sighed. "Well, you can convince yourself that as much as you want. But here I am, willingly chained up for you, because I love you and I do not want you dead," she stated as passionately as Lena had ever seen her.
Her legs were just about give out under her at the onslaught of confessions and information coming her way. She had to stumble a few steps back and find support against a tree, while Kara was staring at her, waiting for her answer.
Lena had once vowed that she would never marry again. She had once thought that her bloodline would end with her, and the world would be relieved of the Luthor cruelty once and for all after she died. This kingdom would crumble, and the people would find refuge where it would be kinder.
But still, she didn't want to die just yet. Not so young. Not when she had so much she wanted to do. So much that she had yet to see.
"I killed my husband, you know?" she offered weakly.
"Everyone knows that."
It had been two months into her ascension, she had acquiesced to her court's relentless pursuit of the issue and agreed to a marriage with the prince of Daxam. Utter fool that he was, who had a reputation of a failure to be faithful or kind.
Unbeknownst to everyone but Sam, she hadn't acquiesced just for the sake of agreeing. She refused to stoop down to a need for a companion in her bed to ensure her queenship was secure. However, she had heard of Mon-El's misdeeds in Daxam and his parents' habit of turning a blind eye to them, so she figured she could hit two birds with one stone.
Prove a point to her royal court. Do the world a favor by getting rid of him once and for all. Two birds. One stone.
She had meticulously planned the exceedingly short marriage between the two of them, refusing to allow his slimy face and slimy feet even a foot near her bedchambers – she would sooner die. She observed as he flirted with handmaidens and disappeared into closets with wives and mistresses.
It was when one of her closest handmaidens – Eve – came to her with tear streaks down her face and a weird gait to her walk that Lena's resolve snapped. She instructed Sam to acquire hemlock through whatever means necessary. She had Eve personally crush the plant into powder and smother Mon-El's dinner with it.
And at dinner table, she watched as her husband choked himself to death, not a hint of remorse. Lena did not even bother to mourn, because Mon-El was not worthy and everyone knew she had never want for a husband. Good riddance and all that.
"Let me prove to you that you don't have to kill me, then," Kara said. "Just, please. Let me keep you safe."
And now, she certainly didn't love Kara. Sometimes, she thought she was incapable of love. But at least, she did not hate the blonde as much as she hated her late husband – and she had hated him before she had even met him, only to hate him more after they actually met.
She was, in fact, quite fond of Kara. Maybe that would be enough. Maybe she didn't need the fairytale ending. Maybe this could be her peace.
A friendship. A companion who seemed to understand her in a way that no one would. Someone who could keep her safe and make her feel safe in her own bedchambers, and not like she could be betrayed at every turn of a corner. Maybe Kara could be that person.
i have to do everything in this house, which means killing mon-el myself
don't ask me whether there'll be another one. it might take another year teehee