"Clark …"
"Uhm?"
"I know you have reason for being wary about the future. I know you've been disappointed so many times. But … the past is over. This is where our lives truly begin. And our lives are going to be good, full of the best things. I hope you can believe that."
He wanted to believe. He wanted to do anything Lois asked of him. But he wasn't going to pretend anymore.
"Lois …" He searched his heart and found hope and optimism and steadfast joy. "All I need is right here."
"You have me. Forever."
"Then I know life will be good."
She smiled. "May I kiss you?" she asked.
He spluttered. Just a little. "I'm naked," he said.
"So am I," she returned. She lifted a few inches out of the water and kissed his mouth. Brief. Slightly moist. Soft. "Get clean," she said. "You have a wedding to get to and an impatient bride craving your attention."
Clark sunk lower into the water, his heart overflowing with joy.
He'd found her. He'd truly found her.
And he was never going to let her go.
Part 40
"So, Lois, we want action. Steaming action! Lots and lots of it!"
Gislane burst into loud laughter at Sylva's demands.
But Sylva didn't smile. "George has had much patience for too long," she said with a stern look at Lois. "You have made him wait and wait. But that is good now, because you don't have to skip over the private bits, because you'll be a marri-"
"Sylva!" Lois exclaimed. "I'm not writing the private parts of my marriage into the story."
"It doesn't have to yours," Sylva said mildly. "We want George and Nelda to stop pretending they don't feel anything and get into bed. Then, they will feel much. It will happen. And we want to hear about it."
Lois stared at her friend, long and hard, until the older medicine woman abandoned her unyielding demeanour and dissolved into girlish giggles.
"I am so happy for you," Sylva said, reaching up to squeeze Lois's hand. "Kent is very right. I'd take him myself if I was still a young woman."
"No, you wouldn't," Gislane corrected. "Kent is not just right; he's right for Lois."
Sylva nodded, accepting defeat with good grace. "And that is why Lois should write some fun times for George and Nelda. It can't be hard. She must be thinking about Kent a lot."
"I will write more," Lois said, hoping they wouldn't remark on her promise to write more while deftly evading any undertaking to write her characters into a passionate and explicit bedroom encounter.
Gislane held up the bright yellow dress that Nlandu had provided for Lois's wedding. "You are going to look very pretty," she said. She chortled. "When Kent sees you, he maybe can't wait no longer. Maybe he will pick you up and run away before Matymbou has finished."
"He'll wait," Lois said. Although the image of Clark eager and just a little out of control was causing cartwheels of anticipation through her stomach.
"Perhaps it will be Lois who can't wait," Sylva said with a loud guffaw. "Her man has much beauty."
Lois quickly slipped the dress over her head, hoping to conceal exactly how much she was looking forward to being alone with Clark and having the freedom to explore his body. She turned around for Gislane to tie the row of strips that lined the back of the dress, and her thoughts moved to Romaric's hut where some of the men were helping Clark prepare for the ceremony.
How was Clark feeling? After the first few minutes of their wedding bathe, he had seemed to relax and enjoy being alone with her. He'd certainly become less vigilant about snapping his head away every time Lois's shoulders rose a few inches above the water.
Lana had done so much harm. In leaving Clark, she'd nearly destroyed him, but the damage had begun long before that. He, more than anyone, yearned for complete acceptance, particularly from those closest to him. Lana had married him, and then refused to meet his most basic need.
And yet, despite her cruelty, Clark's faithfulness hadn't wavered.
Today, he would make new vows - vows that would never be broken. Clark was not a man who made cheap promises. That took immense courage, Lois realised. To give your word, knowing your personal code of ethics would prohibit breaking it, was an act of faith. To do it again after having suffered such pain the first time …
Clark Kent was a hero.
And not because of his physical strength.
"She's thinking about Kent," Sylva said, cackling with delight. "Look at her face."
"Who else would she be thinking about?" Gislane asked from behind Lois.
Sylva pulled the grin from her face. "I thought she be thinking about new potions," she said. "She's a medicine woman."
"She's a woman," Gislane said firmly. "Kent do not need potions!"
The three women exploded into raucous laughter as Diddi ran into the hut. "They're ready!" he shrieked. "Kent and Matymbou are waiting for you, Maman."
Lois looked at her two friends, women who were dearer to her than anyone she'd left behind in her home country. "Are we ready?" she asked.
Sylva jumped up with agility that belied her age and injured ankle. "We must go," she declared. "The poor mondele has waited too long. He'll be in a fazzle by now." She picked up the spray of burnt red flowers from the tulip tree, held them to her nose to inhale their scent, and then handed them to Lois. "Have much happiness," she said, hugging her tightly.
"I will," Lois said. "Thank you … thank you for everything."
Gislane offered Sylva her arm. "Come on," she said. "You have to stop teasing the bride and get out there so Kent knows she's coming."
As the two women left the hut, Lois gathered her son into her arms. "You know you'll always be my very special man?"
Diddi nodded. "But it's OK if Clarkent is your very special man, too," he said.
"You like him, don't you?"
Diddi seemed a little taken aback by his mother's question. "He's my bestest buddy," he said, as if that explained everything. "It was the bestest day when we found him under the corkwood tree."
Lois's first sight of Clark's battered and unconscious body had been the defining moment of her life. She held her son tightly. "I love you, Diddi."
"I love you, Maman." He broke from her embrace and took her hand, pulling her forward. "Come on," he said. "Kent is waiting for us."
Lois straightened, hauled in a long breath, and began the first few steps of her journey to forever.
~|^|~
Clark had wondered if, when the moment came that he would stand before the people on the cusp of his second marriage, his thoughts would inevitably return to the first time he had stood awaiting his bride.
They did - briefly.
But the overwhelming sense was acknowledgement of the vast differences between the two events.
The people were different. The atmosphere was different. The setting was different.
He was different.
And the bride …
The bride loved him - wholeheartedly, selflessly, unconditionally.
The bride was the woman he had been born to love.
He knew that with greater certainty than he'd ever felt about anything.
So this, his second wedding, was nothing like his first. Just as his second marriage would bear no resemblance to his first.
Assured of this truth, Clark pushed away the memories of his past like yesterday's trash and turned his thoughts to exactly where they should be.
With Lois.
How much longer until she would come?
How was she feeling?
Clark smiled. Because he knew Lois's feelings would be an exact replica of his. Hope. Gratitude. Peace. Excitement. And profound joy at having found their destiny.
When Gislane and Sylva emerged from Lois's hut, Clark's heart flip-flopped.
She was ready.
She was coming.
The older women moved towards him, their pace sedate, their faces pressed to voluptuous smiles. Clark shuffled a few steps sideways, hoping to see past them. He heard Romaric chuckle from a few feet away.
"You have no need to worry," Romaric muttered. "She was yours the first day she saw you."
Clark smiled. At the chuckle. At the words and their ring of truth. At the tangible feeling of goodwill emanating from the people as he waited to marry their friend.
He stared at the wall of the hut, fighting the temptation to peel back the entwined twigs and steal a glimpse of his bride.
He didn't have to fight for long.
Lois and Diddi appeared at the doorway, holding hands.
She was more beautiful than anything he'd ever seen. Her simple yellow dress flowed past her knees, giving way to bare calves and feet. She carried a single stem of flowers, their deep red-orange colour blazing against the background of her dress.
Her face shone with serenity. When she looked at him and caught him gaping at her, she laughed - a soft and expressive sound that floated across the distance between them.
Clark dragged his eyes away from his bride for a moment to smile at Diddi. The boy's stride broke into a series of staccato skips and his mouth stretched to a wide grin.
They were going to be the most unusual of families - an American woman, a Kryptonian man, an African child.
But a family didn't have to be joined by blood ties. Love made a family. Love and the commitment to remain a family. Whatever.
Clark's gaze sprang back to Lois, and he dragged in a lungful of air, breathing in her presence and everything it meant as she walked slowly towards him.
She reached him. Stood beside him. Gave her flowers to Gislane. Slipped her hand into his. Tightened her grip. Smiled.
"You are beautiful," he whispered.
"Thank you."
"It's the truth."
They turned to face Matymbou.
He was grinning like a little boy. "You're here," he said brightly. "And you want to be married?"
"Yes." Their replies came simultaneously.
"Kent," Matymbou said, turning to Clark. "From the day Lois came to Bangala land, she has become one of us. There is not one of us she hasn't helped. We knew she belonged here, but she didn't have anyone to belong with. Then, she found you near the river and I knew God had sent the right man for our Lois."
Clark nodded, wishing it had all been so simple for him.
Matymbou continued. "Do you love her?"
"Yes. With all my heart."
"Will you live every day trying to be the man she needs?"
"Yes."
"Do you freely come into this bomoi marriage, knowing that it can only be broken by death?"
"Yes," Clark said. "I do."
Matymbou turned to Lois. He paused for a moment to smile at her, and Clark got the feeling they were sharing a private joke - perhaps the memory of a comment that had passed between them during their long friendship. "Lois," the chief said. "Do you love this man?"
"Yes, I do."
"Will you try to be the wife he needs? Will you share your hut and your bed with him?"
Lois squeezed Clark's hand. "Yes."
"Do you freely come into this bomoi marriage, knowing only death can end it?"
"Yes. Until death. Not a moment before."
As she spoke the words, her eyes cannoned into Clark's. Holding him. Vowing lifelong faithfulness.
To him.
Clark swallowed. He slid his thumb over the back of her hand. She blinked. A droplet of moisture pooled on the curve of her eyelid and then fell, skittering down her cheek. Clark lifted his hand to sweep the lightest of touches across her cheek, brushing away the tear.
"I love you," he mouthed.
"I love you," she returned.
Matymbou placed one hand on each of their shoulders. "As chief of the Bangala, I say that you are now wife and husband together. You have a bomoi marriage - to last for every day of your lives."
His hands lifted to pat their shoulders rather vigorously, although it was peripheral to Clark's awareness, because his mind had filled with the amazing truth that Lois was his wife.
His wife.
She was smiling. Crying a little. Looking utterly happy.
She bent down to hug Diddi and whispered to him, "Clark and I will be back soon. Make sure you leave us some food."
Diddi nodded and then looked up at Clark. "Now you're married to Maman, you'll always be my bestest buddy."
"Yup," Clark said, having intended to make his reply sound light-hearted, but finding it was stifled a little by the lump in his throat. "We'll always be buddies, Diddi."
"Bestest buddies."
Clark tussled his short dark hair.
"Ready?" Lois said, looking up at her husband.
The people had formed two lines, making a channel that led directly to the village gate. "We've being evicted?" Clark asked, only half joking.
Lois smiled. "Couples usually go to a hut near the back of the village for some privacy while the celebration gets going. But I thought the quarantine area would suit us better."
Clark could only nod. Privacy. Being alone with his wife.
That meant …
He felt a wide smile take possession of his mouth. "Let's go."
Lois laughed at his eagerness, and they began walking through the lines, stopping regularly to accept the hugs, smiles, and words of congratulations from the Bangala people.
It was obvious they loved Lois. But what was equally obvious was that they accepted him, fully and without reservations.
Even though they knew he had pushed over a fully grown hippo!
Gislane and Sylva stood at the end of the line. Lois hugged both women, and then, their arms reached for Clark. After they had embraced him, the women made a great show of pushing Lois and Clark out of the village as the people roared with approval.
The gates swung shut.
And Clark was alone with Lois.
~|^|~
Ten yards before they reached the quarantine area, Lois stopped suddenly and turned to face her new husband.
"What?" Clark said, beset by sudden apprehension that at this very late moment, something was going to stop him and Lois coming together.
"When will you take me flying?"
"Excuse me?" he gasped.
She grinned. "You heard me."
"I … I've never taken anyone flying before."
She took a moment to process his reply. "When will you take me?"
"After."
He'd expected her to retort with, "After what?" but she said nothing as she skimmed her finger along his jaw. "OK," she said as she reached his mouth. She bounced a kiss off his lips and skipped to the gate.
With a smile that couldn't be contained, Clark pushed at the gate. It swung open, allowing them entry to their private honeymoon suite. He grasped her hand and firmly closed the gate, hauling in a monstrous breath.
"Feeling OK?" Lois asked.
"I'm feeling ..." Clark thought for a moment. "I'm feeling whole," he said. "Complete. Overflowing."
"Come on," Lois said with a tug on his hand. "Your wife is not a patient woman."
~|^|~
As Lois led Clark into the hut, her thoughts turned to the first time they had staggered this path.
She was half way to being smitten already.
Then, she had been worried whether he would live.
Now, she knew he wanted life. With her.
Then, she'd been conscious of the impenetrable barrier around his heart, keeping her out.
Now, they were about to smash through the last few bricks.
Every atom in her body tingled at the thought of joining with Clark, of sharing the deepest intimacies. Of beginning the lifelong process of proving to him that he could give away his heart and not fear it being trampled.
In the hut, the beds had been moved together and covered with thick, soft blankets.
Three candles, burning in the back of the hut, gave off flickering light.
Lois turned to Clark, took both of his hands, and pulled him inside their love nest. She waited while he looked around the hut.
"This is nice," he said from a mouth that sounded as if it had gone dry.
She pushed aside the upper edge of his shirt. "Uhhmmmm," she said, low and reverberating. "Very nice."
He chuckled. "Are you ogling me again, Ms Medicine Woman?" he asked.
"Yes," she declared. "And ogling is just the beginning. I have plans to do so much more than look."
The muscle under her finger twitched. Her hand leapt from his body and quickly undid the row of buttons. She swept his shirt aside and drank in his magnificence.
"Do the Bangala believe in equality in marriage?" Clark asked.
"Yes," Lois said, surprised that he should ask that question at this moment.
"Great," he said with a wide grin. "Then I guess I can take off your top, too."
Lois smiled. "Is that what you want to do?"
"More than anything in the world."
"Go ahead."
Clark's hands moved behind her back, but then he hesitated. "I also want to tell you that I love you," he said. "And I'm still not quite able to believe that my life is here, with you … as my wife."
Lois slipped her hand under the folds of his shirt and rested it on the warm skin just above the waistline of his pants. "Would you like me to prove it to you?"
"Oh, yeah," he breathed.
Lois grinned, slowly sliding her hands up, past his ribs, via the centre of his chest, and to his broad, muscled shoulders. His breath caught, encouraging her forward. She removed the shirt from his body and tossed it to the end of the bed.
He stood before her, naked from the waist up. For most of his time with the Bangala, he hadn't worn a shirt, but this was different. He wasn't just uncovered; he was exposed. And his exposure went far beyond the physical.
Lois smiled, resting her hand over his heart. "Stunning chest, huge heart," she murmured, dropping a kiss to the upper curve of his pectoral muscle.
She waited, but he didn't move. His hands didn't move from where they had lightly perched on her lower back.
"I'm yours, Clark," Lois whispered. "I'm all yours. Nothing hidden. Nothing not allowed. I want you to touch. To taste. To explore. To delve. To claim. Please, Clark."
His hands moved slowly up her back. He untied the top strips and then dropped lower. He worked steadily down her back until the dress hung open.
He smiled down at her. "Ready?"
"Yup."
His hand moved to cup the back of her neck.
His mouth came down on hers, and he kissed her. Boldly. Thoroughly. Freely. Exhilaratingly. And with an unfettered passion that paid tribute to their coming union.
A union that would last.
Forever.
