The conclusion to my Chloe-centred, historical fluff-fest ...
[Back in the hammock, 2002]
Chloe squinted. The sun was blinding. Mr. Kent, Lex and Pete were playing catch. "Nice catch, Pete!" Lex hollered. "Hey, I got game!" Pete replied. At the picnic table, Martha and Lana appeared to be in a deep conversation. "I'm just searching for something, you know," Lana began, "Trying to find my niche."
Where's Clark? "Clark? Clark where are you?" Chloe mumbled in her sleep.
She blinked again. The foul stench of medieval France returned again. Her hands were bound with thick rope. I'm on a wooden wagon, Chloe noticed. The gates flung open. Boos and hisses shrieked throughout the courtyard. The masses were here for a show.
The execution of the Maid of Orleans. Whitney reined in the harness, as a group of peasants blocked his path and flung rotten vegetables at Chloe.
"I'm to be executed?" Chloe demanded.
"Yes, fair maid," Whitney replied. "You have been convicted of heresy and witchcraft. The ... purity ... of fire shall purge your soul of the demons."
"I thought you were in my corner, Whitney!" Chloe exclaimed. Another tomato smacked her in the cheek
"You fulfilled your destiny, dear maid. France has her King. But you defied the King's wishes by marching on Paris - without his approval."
Chloe scoffed. "I'm not buying that. C'mon, fess up. What did the great Charles offer you?"
Whitney bowed his head in shame. "Forgive me, gracious lady. His Majesty offered to make me a lord of the realm. A lord! On this mortal world, he is my liege and master. It is God's will."
How typical of Lex, Chloe pouted. Even in France, he managed to dazzle her friends with his wealth.
Lionel, the king's herald, read the charges. "Joan of Arc has claimed to speak for God. To know what He is thinking. By order of the court, you have been convicted of heresy and witchcraft." Drums began to roll.
"The sentence, to be carried out this day, is death. You shall be tied to a stake until burned to death .... your body consumed by the purifying flames of justice. You may now beg for forgiveness, in the hopes that you may save your soul."
Chloe glanced at the ramparts. Clark had shed his abbot's robes for the tunic of the duke of Lorraine. What's he up to? The crowd called for her blood. Whitney and the king's guards shoved the mob aside and led Chloe to the stake.
Whitney tied her arms around the stake. "I am sorry for this, Joan of Arc. I have my duty."
Chloe sighed. "We all have our roles to play. This is my fate. My destiny."
"Know that France will remember your deeds, long after Charles' reign." Whitney left to join the guards.
Pete managed to push his way through the crowd. "Chloe ... I mean, Joan ... look up there!" He pointed to the ramparts. Clark had pulled out a crossbow. Aimed at Lionel.
"We can get you out of this. Clark's rounded up his father's men. A jail break. We'll take down Lionel. Come on, this is a ridiculous dream. I'm gonna rewrite history now!"
Chloe shook her head violently. "No!" She looked across to the ramparts and mouthed "No."
Pete became anxious. "Look, Chloe, I know you think you're sticking to your principles. That's why you're identifying with Joan of Arc. Okay, you proved it. You're willing to make sacrifices for what you believe. End of story. Now can we get out of this dream?"
Chloe glanced at the crowd. Lana was there. She weaved her way up to the front of the mob.
"I shall pray for you," Lana bowed her head reverently. "You are truly a sign of the divine."
"Uhh, thanks," Chloe nodded.
"You have shown Clark the light of truth. He has left the Church! The King has forced the duke to honour Clark's wishes. We are to be betrothed. God bless you, warrior-maid!"
Ohh - that bites, Chloe grumbled. Even here, Lana managed to win Clark's affections. She was tempted to rewrite the ending of this legend, but she wanted to see it through.
It's just a dream, she thought. The guards lit the bonfire. Sparks became flames. She looked again at Clark atop the ramparts. Clark began to descend the steps.
Pete dashed up the stairs. "No! This is what she wants. You barge down there, the king will surely strip you of your inheritance. You'll lose Lana!"
"God be with you, Maid of Orleans!" Clark continued to yell. He wept uncontrollably into Pete's shoulders.
Pete shrugged, and looked at Chloe. "Watch your feet, Chloe." He nodded towards the bonfire.
Ouch! she yelped. A few sparks had jumped onto her clothing. Okay ... I'm ready to wake up.
Any time now.
The flames flicked closer. They were at her feet now.
Chloe shook her head. "No! I want to wake up now! Now!" Lana had clasped her hands together in silent prayer. Whitney stood on the wagon, blubbering like a baby. Oh, the melodrama. Clark was still crying. Pete was obviously irritated at the display. Why is Clark so sad, Chloe wondered. He won Lana's hand in marriage!
Isn't that what he always wanted. Too hot, she mumbled deliriously. Too hot.
"What's too hot?" Clark had asked. She was in the hammock again.
"What? Where - where am I?" Chloe asked.
Pete frowned. "We're in 2002, Chloe. You've been sleeping for hours."
"Well, thanks for waking me up, guys!" Chloe pinched Pete on the arm.
"I told Clark to wake up the sleeping beauty," Lex added, "but 'prince charming' wanted to talk football with the boys instead."
"You must have been dreaming!" Lana declared. "It must have been some dream. Or, were you dreaming ... of someone?"
"If I told you guys, you'd probably laugh." Chloe rubbed her eyes and yawned.
"Hey, that Joan of Arc mini-series is about to begin," Lex interrupted, "I get first dibs on the couch."
"Not if I get there first!" Pete dared. He and Lex raced into the farmhouse.
"They're both going to be disappointed," Clark chuckled. "My dad's been sleeping there for the past half hour! I'll see you inside." He sprinted up to the door.
Lana sat beside Chloe. "So ... about that dream ..."
Chloe giggled. "It's stupid ..."
Lana smiled. "Aww, come on. It must have been good, if it kept you asleep the whole afternoon!"
Chloe took a deep breath. "Oh, alright. I dreamed about being Joan of Arc. It was so real, I could smell the mud, the straw ..."
"... the rotting vegetables ..." Lana added.
"You were there. So was Whitney. And Pete. Lex and his dad were there. Not surprisingly, Lex was the king of France. Oh, and Clark was in it, too."
"So did Clark have a lead role in your fantasy?" Lana grinned.
"Lana!" Chloe blushed. "We're just friends."
"Chloe, you don't have to pretend anymore. Just because Whitney's left for the Marines doesn't mean I'm rushing into Clark's arms. We're just good friends, that's all. You ... go right ahead and put those Sullivan moves on the Kent boy." Lana curtsied. "By your leave, Chloe, Maid of Smallville. Lord Clark wishes an audience with you." She jogged towards the farmhouse.
Chloe gazed across the horizon. The Kansas twilight sky blazed with orange, purple and red.
Did Lana just tell me that I have the green light to pursue Clark Kent?
Maybe I don't have to wait for the hereafter to receive my just rewards. "Lana?" Chloe called.
"Yes, fair maid." Lana bowed.
"Please tell Clark that the Maid of Smallville would like a word with him. In private."
Lana slipped into the farmhouse. Chloe laughed. Maybe I won't save a kingdom in my lifetime, she thought, but I can still get my own knight.
Prepare to meet thy fate, Clark Kent ...
THE END
[Back in the hammock, 2002]
Chloe squinted. The sun was blinding. Mr. Kent, Lex and Pete were playing catch. "Nice catch, Pete!" Lex hollered. "Hey, I got game!" Pete replied. At the picnic table, Martha and Lana appeared to be in a deep conversation. "I'm just searching for something, you know," Lana began, "Trying to find my niche."
Where's Clark? "Clark? Clark where are you?" Chloe mumbled in her sleep.
She blinked again. The foul stench of medieval France returned again. Her hands were bound with thick rope. I'm on a wooden wagon, Chloe noticed. The gates flung open. Boos and hisses shrieked throughout the courtyard. The masses were here for a show.
The execution of the Maid of Orleans. Whitney reined in the harness, as a group of peasants blocked his path and flung rotten vegetables at Chloe.
"I'm to be executed?" Chloe demanded.
"Yes, fair maid," Whitney replied. "You have been convicted of heresy and witchcraft. The ... purity ... of fire shall purge your soul of the demons."
"I thought you were in my corner, Whitney!" Chloe exclaimed. Another tomato smacked her in the cheek
"You fulfilled your destiny, dear maid. France has her King. But you defied the King's wishes by marching on Paris - without his approval."
Chloe scoffed. "I'm not buying that. C'mon, fess up. What did the great Charles offer you?"
Whitney bowed his head in shame. "Forgive me, gracious lady. His Majesty offered to make me a lord of the realm. A lord! On this mortal world, he is my liege and master. It is God's will."
How typical of Lex, Chloe pouted. Even in France, he managed to dazzle her friends with his wealth.
Lionel, the king's herald, read the charges. "Joan of Arc has claimed to speak for God. To know what He is thinking. By order of the court, you have been convicted of heresy and witchcraft." Drums began to roll.
"The sentence, to be carried out this day, is death. You shall be tied to a stake until burned to death .... your body consumed by the purifying flames of justice. You may now beg for forgiveness, in the hopes that you may save your soul."
Chloe glanced at the ramparts. Clark had shed his abbot's robes for the tunic of the duke of Lorraine. What's he up to? The crowd called for her blood. Whitney and the king's guards shoved the mob aside and led Chloe to the stake.
Whitney tied her arms around the stake. "I am sorry for this, Joan of Arc. I have my duty."
Chloe sighed. "We all have our roles to play. This is my fate. My destiny."
"Know that France will remember your deeds, long after Charles' reign." Whitney left to join the guards.
Pete managed to push his way through the crowd. "Chloe ... I mean, Joan ... look up there!" He pointed to the ramparts. Clark had pulled out a crossbow. Aimed at Lionel.
"We can get you out of this. Clark's rounded up his father's men. A jail break. We'll take down Lionel. Come on, this is a ridiculous dream. I'm gonna rewrite history now!"
Chloe shook her head violently. "No!" She looked across to the ramparts and mouthed "No."
Pete became anxious. "Look, Chloe, I know you think you're sticking to your principles. That's why you're identifying with Joan of Arc. Okay, you proved it. You're willing to make sacrifices for what you believe. End of story. Now can we get out of this dream?"
Chloe glanced at the crowd. Lana was there. She weaved her way up to the front of the mob.
"I shall pray for you," Lana bowed her head reverently. "You are truly a sign of the divine."
"Uhh, thanks," Chloe nodded.
"You have shown Clark the light of truth. He has left the Church! The King has forced the duke to honour Clark's wishes. We are to be betrothed. God bless you, warrior-maid!"
Ohh - that bites, Chloe grumbled. Even here, Lana managed to win Clark's affections. She was tempted to rewrite the ending of this legend, but she wanted to see it through.
It's just a dream, she thought. The guards lit the bonfire. Sparks became flames. She looked again at Clark atop the ramparts. Clark began to descend the steps.
Pete dashed up the stairs. "No! This is what she wants. You barge down there, the king will surely strip you of your inheritance. You'll lose Lana!"
"God be with you, Maid of Orleans!" Clark continued to yell. He wept uncontrollably into Pete's shoulders.
Pete shrugged, and looked at Chloe. "Watch your feet, Chloe." He nodded towards the bonfire.
Ouch! she yelped. A few sparks had jumped onto her clothing. Okay ... I'm ready to wake up.
Any time now.
The flames flicked closer. They were at her feet now.
Chloe shook her head. "No! I want to wake up now! Now!" Lana had clasped her hands together in silent prayer. Whitney stood on the wagon, blubbering like a baby. Oh, the melodrama. Clark was still crying. Pete was obviously irritated at the display. Why is Clark so sad, Chloe wondered. He won Lana's hand in marriage!
Isn't that what he always wanted. Too hot, she mumbled deliriously. Too hot.
"What's too hot?" Clark had asked. She was in the hammock again.
"What? Where - where am I?" Chloe asked.
Pete frowned. "We're in 2002, Chloe. You've been sleeping for hours."
"Well, thanks for waking me up, guys!" Chloe pinched Pete on the arm.
"I told Clark to wake up the sleeping beauty," Lex added, "but 'prince charming' wanted to talk football with the boys instead."
"You must have been dreaming!" Lana declared. "It must have been some dream. Or, were you dreaming ... of someone?"
"If I told you guys, you'd probably laugh." Chloe rubbed her eyes and yawned.
"Hey, that Joan of Arc mini-series is about to begin," Lex interrupted, "I get first dibs on the couch."
"Not if I get there first!" Pete dared. He and Lex raced into the farmhouse.
"They're both going to be disappointed," Clark chuckled. "My dad's been sleeping there for the past half hour! I'll see you inside." He sprinted up to the door.
Lana sat beside Chloe. "So ... about that dream ..."
Chloe giggled. "It's stupid ..."
Lana smiled. "Aww, come on. It must have been good, if it kept you asleep the whole afternoon!"
Chloe took a deep breath. "Oh, alright. I dreamed about being Joan of Arc. It was so real, I could smell the mud, the straw ..."
"... the rotting vegetables ..." Lana added.
"You were there. So was Whitney. And Pete. Lex and his dad were there. Not surprisingly, Lex was the king of France. Oh, and Clark was in it, too."
"So did Clark have a lead role in your fantasy?" Lana grinned.
"Lana!" Chloe blushed. "We're just friends."
"Chloe, you don't have to pretend anymore. Just because Whitney's left for the Marines doesn't mean I'm rushing into Clark's arms. We're just good friends, that's all. You ... go right ahead and put those Sullivan moves on the Kent boy." Lana curtsied. "By your leave, Chloe, Maid of Smallville. Lord Clark wishes an audience with you." She jogged towards the farmhouse.
Chloe gazed across the horizon. The Kansas twilight sky blazed with orange, purple and red.
Did Lana just tell me that I have the green light to pursue Clark Kent?
Maybe I don't have to wait for the hereafter to receive my just rewards. "Lana?" Chloe called.
"Yes, fair maid." Lana bowed.
"Please tell Clark that the Maid of Smallville would like a word with him. In private."
Lana slipped into the farmhouse. Chloe laughed. Maybe I won't save a kingdom in my lifetime, she thought, but I can still get my own knight.
Prepare to meet thy fate, Clark Kent ...
THE END