Two weeks passed, quicker than Clark could have ever imagined. He slipped into his new role well. During the day, he was with the horses, tending to their every need and doing what he could to anticipate their future needs. It could be lonely work at times, but he was used to it. Even when he'd been living with his parents back on the farm, before life had gotten so crazy, he'd often been alone while he'd done his chores. There was simply too much to do on a farm - his parents had needed to go about their own tasks.
So, he didn't mind the solitude.
And it wasn't like he was always alone. Depending on the day, there could be any number of messengers coming or going. Or Lord Lane and his family might be in need of their horses. Or visitors might turn up. Clark tended to all the horses, treating even the lowliest messenger's steed with the utmost care. It didn't matter if the beast in question was a purebred steed fit for a king or a half-starved little nag, Clark cared for them all the same - taking pains to make sure they were given as much food and water as they needed, and brushing their coats to put them at ease in their new surroundings.
At night, Clark would wash up and share his meal with the other servants, forging some strong friendships as the days wore on. After the meal, he would work on his carvings until Lois knocked on his chamber door, or if the inspiration wasn't there, he would work on reading the limited number of words he knew in the King Arthur book Lois had given him. Sometimes, he tried his hand at carving letters into pieces of scrap wood before throwing them on the fire in disgust at the shaky, nearly illegible words.
When Lois came to his chamber, everything changed for Clark. Even the worst day suddenly became bright and full of wonder. Even the worst of his moods would lighten. Tiredness would slip from his bones. Muscle aches would recede into the background. Any lingering loneliness he might feel would dissipate like fog in sunshine. Even his heart would feel different during the hour or two Lois would spend in his chamber, as though it would change its very rhythm to beat in tune with hers.
Under Lois' gentle tutelage, Clark's tenuous grasp of reading flourished and grew. By the end of the first two weeks, he could hesitantly read short, simple sentences aloud and could sound out unfamiliar words correctly more often than not. He was extremely proud of his progress, and knew Lois was as well. That alone - Lois' pride in him - fueled his desire to become an even better reader. He would do anything to impress her. And it felt good, working to better himself for his own happiness as well. As for the story of King Arthur itself, well, Clark was simply captivated by it.
Clark was just beginning his third week in the stables - and his second where he was totally in charge of the stable without Frederick's guidance - when it came time for Stardance, one of the mares, to have her foal. Clark noticed the change in the horse's behavior just before he was to quit for the night and get his dinner. He quickly got the horse comfortable and sent Jack, one of the young servants, to the kitchen for his dinner. He did not want to leave the mare until the foal was born and checked over to make certain it was healthy. Jack returned with all speed, with Clark's dinner packed away in a basket. Clark thanked the younger man and settled down in the fresh, clean straw.
He set to work right away on the food, wanting to eat at least the majority of it before it got cold or the foal could make its appearance. As usual, the meal Francois had prepared was delicious - a steaming hot meat pie, a wedge of hard cheese, crunchy and warm bread with a slab of hard butter, grapes, and a skin of water to wash it all down. Clark tucked right into the pie and bread with butter first, enjoying the wonderful combinations of flavors and the warmth and strength it gave his body. The cheese and grapes he saved to one side, knowing that, in all likelihood, it would be a long night.
The night wore on, the stable and the outside world growing still as the sky grew ever darker. Clouds rolled in, heavy with snow, and soon white flakes were falling from the heavens. Clark left only once, dashing across the courtyard to his chamber. He grabbed an armful of wood and his knives, then bolted back across to the stable. It was a relief getting back into the building, for in there, he was out of the wind and warm.
Once he was inside, he set everything next to his space on the floor and lit one of the lanterns. He set the metal and glass box on the floor in a clear spot and checked on Stardance, but she was still a long way off from bringing her foal into the world. He turned his attention to the wood and went to work, carefully whittling animals out of it. He was just finishing up his first piece when the stable door opened. He felt the blast of chilly air as it played across his skin. He set aside the figurine and stood, looking to see who was there.
"Hello?" he called out. "Is someone there?"
"It's just me," called a female voice.
"Lois?" he whispered to himself. Then, aloud, "Milady?"
She stepped into view, brushing snow from the shoulders of her winter cape. "Don't worry, it really is only me. There's no need for 'milady.'"
Clark smiled. "Just making sure."
Lois smiled in return. "I don't blame you." She hung up her cloak and began walking toward Clark. "I went by your chamber for our lesson. When you didn't answer, I assumed you were here. Is everything all right?"
"Everything's fine," Clark assured her. He waved her closer. "Stardance is going to have her foal tonight."
"Really?" she asked, hurrying now, her voice full of interest.
"Shouldn't be too long now," Clark said, opening the door to Stardance's stall. "At least, I don't think it'll be long."
"Can I stay to watch?"
"I would love it if you did. Here."
He put one of the blankets used beneath a saddle on the floor for her, folding it in half to double the thickness. She took his hand as she lowered herself down on the scratchy fabric.
"I'm sorry I have nothing more comfortable to offer you," he apologized.
"It's fine, really," she told him. She looked around briefly, as if gathering her bearings. "What are you carving?" she asked, her eyes lighting upon the knife next to Clark's leg.
He pulled the figurine out of the hay and handed it to her. "A wild boar," he explained, though the figurine practically spoke for itself.
"It's lovely," she complimented, turning the boar over and over in her hand to examine it from all angles. "Why the broken tusk?"
Clark took the boar back as she handed it to him. He looked again at the wooden animal and smiled softly to himself.
"There was a wild boar who lived in the woods close to my farm," he explained, his mind reaching back to simpler times. "I used to see him sometimes when I would go into the woods. Sometimes it was to look for firewood - only dead stuff I couldn't be accused of stealing, mind you - or to gather nuts or berries to supplement our food stores - even though that could have been called stealing, at least according to Lord Luthor. The boar must have gotten into a fight and broken his tusk. It was pretty distinctive. I tried hunting him a couple of times. I knew the penalty for poaching was stiff, but desperate times make for desperate actions. He was pretty crafty, and always gave me the slip."
"Was farm life really so tough, that you had to resort to going against the laws of your land? Hunting and gathering nuts and the like?" There was no condemnation in her voice, only curiosity.
"Not always," he said with a slow shake of his head. "There were some years where the farm thrived and we had more than enough. We could sell our surplus and buy all the other things we needed, and even a few things that weren't necessities." He paused for a second or two before continuing. "But other years? Yes, things could be bad then - when the crops failed due to drought or pestilence or even flooding. When the animals died due to disease or harsh winters. There were times when we barely had enough food to stay alive from day to day, and there was no money to buy the things we so desperately needed. I hated doing things I knew were wrong, but I saw no other choice."
He sighed a little, hanging his hand in shame. "Please don't think less of me for what I did, Lois."
She reached out and cupped his chin in her palm. Gently, she forced him to make eye contact with her.
"I could never think less of anyone for doing what they need in order to survive. I would have done the same thing, if I'd been in your position."
"Like you will with Lord Luthor," he supplied, his voice soft and barely hiding his regret.
Lois huffed a sigh. "Yes, I suppose I will, as much as I hate it."
"Have there been further raids?" he asked, looking down again. The boar was still in his hands. He took the knife up and idly worked on some of the finer details. "I haven't heard much, but then, I'm out here most of the day."
Lois nodded slightly. "Two more in the last two days. Nothing close to here, but still, it's concerning."
Clark nodded thoughtfully. "It is," he agreed.
A comfortable silence fell between them, broken only by the occasional snort or soft whinny from Stardance as her labor progressed. Clark kept his hands busy with his carving, deftly finishing up the detail work on the boar before starting a new, more ambitious piece - a raccoon family on the broken stump of a tree. He noticed Lois watching with interest.
"Sorry," he apologized. "I'm used to keeping myself busy at night with carving. I can stop if you'd like."
"No, no. It's actually pretty fascinating," she said, watching as he removed a wedge of wood. "I can't do anything even remotely close to that. I can't draw or paint or dance very well either."
"Surely you have to have some kind of unique talent," he encouraged. "My father was a big believer in the idea that all of us have some kind of gift, be it in building, or painting, or growing crops, or breeding horses, or singing, or writing laws that actually benefit the people they are written for."
"I do sing a little," Lois confided in a gossamer light voice. "I've been told I do it well."
"There, you see," Clark said with a grin. "Everyone has a gift. And, let's not forget, you have a knack for teaching a country bumpkin how to read."
That made her laugh. "I guess you're right."
"I'm actually sorry that we aren't working on reading again tonight," Clark confessed.
But Lois shook her head. "No, don't be. This is nice, getting to just sit and talk and watch you carve. And to witness Stardance have her baby. I've never seen a birth of any kind."
"It's pretty special," Clark said, glancing at the horse, but nothing had changed there. "I've seen quite a few births - horses, cows, barn cats, even a dog we had when I was younger. It never ceases to amaze me. It's just...just the most miraculous thing I've ever seen." He looked at Lois. She was smiling from ear to ear. "What?"
"I've never seen a man so passionate about birth before. You're going to be a wonderful father some day."
Clark shook his head. "I doubt it."
"And why not?" she wanted to know.
"It's nothing."
"No, really, what?" she pressed.
He took a deep breath. "I...there's only one woman I've ever...could ever...imagine myself with."
"Who?" From the sound of her voice, Clark imagined that she already knew who his heart desired.
"I...It doesn't matter. She...I'm not worthy of her." He had to swallow hard around the sudden dryness in his throat.
"Do...do I...know her?" she asked slowly.
"Please," he begged. "I don't want to overstep my place. Your family has shown me every kindness. I can't...I can't jeopardize one of the best things that's happened to me lately."
"Is it...me?" she whispered.
He didn't have to reply with words. He knew his expression gave away his heart. He nodded.
"Yes," he whispered back, fearful that someone else would hear, though he knew they were completely alone. "I'm sorry, Lois, but it's the truth. I fell in love with you the day I first met you, in the market, when you bought that bear for your sister. It's part of the reason why I gave you that hawk. I'm so sorry," he repeated, ashamed of his confession.
"Sorry?" she asked, as though the word was foreign. "Don't be sorry."
"I just...I know I can never act on it. And I don't want to lose your friendship. Lois, you are the best thing that's every happened to me. I've never known anyone who has made me feel so good about myself."
"You won't lose my friendship," she vowed. "The truth is...I like you too. I think I'm falling in love with you. I have been, since you escorted us home when Lucy got hurt, even if I've been afraid to admit it to myself."
"You...love me?" he asked, incredulous. Surely he hadn't heard her correctly.
She nodded. "I do."
"Wow," he whispered with a grin on his face.
He had to let that knowledge sink in. Lois, the most wonderful woman in all the world, loved him. Loved him! Despite his peasant roots, she loved him. Despite the fact that he'd been sold to her family as a slave, she loved him. Despite the fact that they could never be together, she loved him. It was more than he'd ever dared to hope for.
But...what now?
It wasn't like they could do anything about it. She was a noblewoman. He was less than dirt. He had nothing to offer her. And even though her family did not treat him as a slave, he knew that they would have every right to hunt him down and punish him as a runaway slave if he and Lois tried to run off and start a new life somewhere else. It was a hopeless situation, as far as he was concerned.
He felt both elated and cursed. He had found love and she loved him in return. But he was destined to love her from afar. And soon, he had no doubt, he would be forced to watch as she married another man, though he hesitated to call Lord Luthor a man. He was more like the devil made flesh and come to Earth, lording over his subjects with an iron fist and a short temper.
"What a fine pair we make," he said aloud before he realized his thoughts had taken on spoken words. "A perfectly mismatched and impossible love."
"Star-crossed lovers," Lois agreed.
"Two people from completely different worlds," Clark added.
"It isn't fair," Lois replied. "You can't help the circumstances you were born into no more than I can help mine, but because we are from different classes, we can never be free to just be in love."
"Until this moment, I've never hated being low-born. I've never minded being a farmer, even during the worst, leanest years when we barely survived," Clark said. "But tonight? Tonight I would do anything to change my lot in life...to reach into the heavens and rearrange the very stars if that's what it would take."
"And I would give up being the daughter of a lord, if I thought it at all possible," Lois said solemnly.
A sudden change in Stardance's behavior broke them both from their conversation. Clark scrambled up off the floor and went to the mare. He quickly checked her over, then retreated back to his place, though he did not sit back down.
"What's the matter?" Lois asked with concern.
"It's starting. Her real labor has started. The foal will be born soon."
They watched in rapt fascination as the mare labored and pushed out her foal, though Clark's awe was mixed with a healthy dose of fear. Every nerve was balanced on a knife's edge. Every muscle was coiled, ready to spring into action at the slightest sign that the mother or baby were in distress. Neither he nor Lois spoke a word. They only sounds came from the horse. Bit by bit, the baby emerged from Stardance's womb and into the strange new world of humans and other horses, until at last, with a final push and a gush of fluids, a single filly was born. Stardance immediately began tending to her daughter and Clark felt the tension bleeding from his body.
"It's a girl!" he announced as the baby attempted to stand on wobbly legs.
The birth had gone off without a hitch. Mother and daughter looked healthy and strong. The night had been a success, and Lord Lane had a new horse in his stable. Clark had a new charge to care for. When he deemed it safe to do so, he approached the filly and checked her over, helping to dry her coat with an old blanket. As she dried off, the filly's colors started to show better. She was predominately white, with a blaze of gold on her forehead.
"She's beautiful," Lois proclaimed in awe.
"She is. Healthy and strong too." He patted first the baby, then Stardance. "Good job, Momma," he praised her as he stroked her nose. Stardance nickered as though in response. "She'll need a name," he said to Lois.
"Sundrop," she immediately replied. "She looks like a Sundrop to me. Of course, I'll run it by the rest of the family, but for tonight at least, that's her name."
"I like it," Clark said with approval.
"Thanks for letting me stay so I could see her be born," Lois said after a minute of simply watching the new foal.
"I'm glad you were here," Clark replied. "I've always loved when I could share moments like these with someone else. Up until now, it's only been my parents. But sharing this with you? On the night when we admitted...well...what we did? It makes it all the more special. And," he said with a teasing smile and a gentle bump of his shoulder into hers, "having you here certainly made things less lonely."
Lois laughed lightly. "I'll bet. It must be getting close to midnight by now. I can't imagine being here alone for so many hours."
Clark shrugged. "It's not so bad. It's kind of peaceful, in a way. Especially on a night like this - so quiet outside you can practically hear the snowflakes touch down on the ground. Still, it's nice to not be all alone."
Silence fell between them, as they each searched for something else to say. Clark was afraid he'd already said too much about his feelings - feelings he would have to learn to bury deep and leave behind if he ever hoped to be truly happy in his life. Because if he didn't, seeing Lois marry anyone else - Luthor or not - would kill him.
"So," Lois began tentatively, "is there anything else you need to do for Sundrop?"
"No," he replied with a shake of his head. "Everything looks good here. I'll inform your father of the birth first thing in the morning."
Lois nodded. "He'll want to see the baby right away."
Clark nodded in turn. "I thought as much. And now, milady, I think it's well past the time when we both retire for the night. It's getting late and the horses need to rest anyway."
"All right. Goodnight, Clark."
"Goodnight, Lois."
She turned and left the stall. He watched as she retrieved her cloak from the peg she'd hung it on and slipped it over her shoulders. Then she walked out of the stable. Clark merely gazed after her for a moment, then turned back to his work, putting everything away and putting fresh hay down for the horses. He blew out all the lanterns on his way out, keeping only one lit to light his way to his chamber.
He went to bed that night exhausted but completely elated.
Lois loved him.
***
Lois hummed happily to herself as she walked the halls of her home. She'd tried denying her attraction to Clark since he'd helped Lucy, James, and herself get home when Bluebell had come up lame and Lucy had been hurt. But for all she'd told her heart that it was wrong, it had insisted that she was falling for the young farmer. She'd told herself to forget him. There was no way he could love her. And if she loved him, she would only hurt him, for they could never be together. Her family would never allow it. As loving and accepting as her father and mother could be, they would never find it in their hearts to embrace a peasant farmer as their son-in-law.
So she'd made up her mind that Clark should never know of her feelings toward him. It was the only way she could be fair to him. And, if she tried hard enough, maybe she could convince herself that she didn't actually love him. If she didn't love him, it would be easier to accept that their fates would never entwine.
But then, tonight, he'd opened up to her in a way he never had before. He'd admitted that he'd felt for her what she felt for him. He'd told her that he loved her. And she'd allowed herself to make the fatal mistake of letting him know that she loved him too. It had hurt her heart to see the emotions in his face - the raw, unbridled joy, the shocked disbelief, the tentative hope, the crushing realization that they were destined to forever love one another from afar.
Their souls would never really rest alongside one another.
"What have I done?" she whispered to herself as she reached her chambers. She leaned against the solid wooden door after slipping inside. "How could I have done that to him?"
He'll hate me forever, she thought bitterly to herself. I'll be forced to marry some lord or another - probably Lex Luthor - and he'll hate me for ever having stirred up hope in his heart, no matter for how brief a time.
"You deserve every unhappiness, Lois," she chided herself. "He's a good man and now you've gone and stomped all over his heart."
With sorrow, anger, and regret all dueling in her heart, she got herself ready for bed. She climbed beneath the heavy winter blankets and reclined back on her pillow. But sleep was a long time in coming.
He loves me, her heart seemed to beat. He loves me.
But what good is any of that? her brain sneered in return.
Only one thing seemed certain to her. She would never be able to love anyone who wasn't Clark.
To Be Continued...
