Chlark Fanfic: Olympus Awaits, Chapter 5

[babydee1]

Title:              Olympus Awaits
Author:         babydee1
Pairing:          Chlark
Rating:           NC-17
Warnings:     Graphic sex
Timeline:      Past & Future.  You’ll see. 
Disclaimer:   All characters belong to the CW & DC comics. 
Summary:     When Clark and Chloe get freaky on the site of a sacred Greek temple, they get a much bigger bang than they bargained for
Feedback:      …is much appreciated!

Banner art by iluvaqt

Read previous chapter here.
Read story from the beginning here.

Chapter 5


“So,” boomed King Diomedes, “you are the one who took down Ajax the Lesser in the fields?”

Ajax scowled and reddened at being publicly shamed, his broken wrist in a makeshift splint. 

Clark nodded.  “I am.” 

“I see.  And based on your success against one man, you wish to fight my bravest champions?”

“I am here to lay claim to the prophecy of Cassandra, daughter of Priam,” Clark declared.  His words drew laud, raucous guffaws from the assembled gentry and commoners who had come to see the madman throw his life away on such a fabled whim.

“Even the princess’s own family have declared both her and her prophesies insane,” the king said, his voice riddled with contempt.  “She’s the laughing stock of Troy.  You are the first person alive to ever put stock in her words… and most probably the last.”

More raucous laughter.  Clark squared his shoulders and continued. 

“If you are so convinced that I shall die, then it will be no trouble to put your champions to the test against me,” he said smoothly.  “Unless of course, their courage deserts them…?”

A collective gasp reverberated around the room at Clark’s brazen challenge.  King Diomedes sat forward and stroked his chin, looking remarkably like a Disney villain. 

“Assembling my warriors is no problem,” he said silkily.  “But if you fail in your task, you will not fail alone.  Your beautiful companion will be ours to do with as we please.”

“Hah!” Chloe snorted.  “Not gonna happen, dude.”

“And the land and properties of your host will default to the throne,” the king continued.  “He and his will be enslaved for life.” 

“I am willing to offer all that I have, sire,” the old farmer said loudly and with conviction.  “I believe today is the day that the prophecy will be fulfilled.” 

Clark swallowed, both humbled by and worried about the man’s total belief in him. 

Clark tightened his hold on Chloe’s hand.  “I accept your terms, your majesty,” he replied.  “…on one condition.”

The king raised a curious brow.  “State it.” 

“If I am victorious here today, all unfair and excessive rents and levies on the people of Argos will cease immediately,” he said.  “The standard rates as set by the capital will apply, and not a penny more.” 

“I am in agreement,” the king replied flippantly.  “And if you fail, the taxes will double and your companion becomes my concubine.”

Clark stared him down.  “I’m not going to fail.”

“The last words of a dying man,” the king said with a derisive snort.  He gestured to his footman.  “Assemble my finest warriors.  Let the sport begin.” 

***

The crowd murmured and placed wagers on the fights as the combat list was drawn up.  Everyone made their way out of the king’s court and into the arena where the twelve consecutive battles were to take place. 

Clark, now out of his toga and clad in traditional combat gear, made his way through the throng into the arena.  Chloe, who had also been dressed in a flattering gold outfit, walked by his side, her hand clasped tightly in his.  Their host, Diomedes, accompanied him on the other side. 

“This would be a good time to pray to whatever gods may hear you, son,” the farmer whispered in his ear as they walked along. 

Clark smiled.  “I will not let you down, Diomedes.” 

“Everything is riding on this, Clark,” Chloe said quietly as she saw a group of twelve burley men assemble on the other side of the arena. 

“I know, Chlo.  It’s not about just us anymore; Diomedes and Freya could lose everything if I don’t win.” 

“But you’re going to,” she insisted.  “I know you are, I believe in you.” 

“Gods immortal, they’ve drawn Achilles first,” Diomedes whispered, his face drained of colour as the popular warrior strode into the arena.  He turned towards them.  “I fear we have over-reached in our quest.  You cannot defeat Achilles.  He is a demigod, protected from birth by the dip of the River Styx.  His skin is impenetrable!”

“Try not to worry yourself, Diomedes; I believe I can find a weakness,” Clark replied. 

“You may select any weapon from the armoury,” the king declared, sweeping his hand at the vast array of weapons assembled on a nearby table.  “A list of your combatants has been provided for you.  It will not be an easy task.  If you defeat even one of these men, you have my full respect.” 

Diomedes glanced through the list and went pale.  Chloe took it from him, and together they read through the twelve names that stood between them and victory.

“I take back what I said,” Clark whispered.  “I remember my Greek history, and these guys are all badasses.  I can’t beat them.” 

“You’re gonna be fine,” Chloe reassured him. 

“I don’t know if I will, Chloe; half these guys are demigods!”

“That may be so, but they’re no match for your abilities, Clark,” she reminded him.  “Think about it: they don’t know you’re special, so you have the advantage here.  With your speed, strength and heat vision, it should be fairly easy for you to take them out.  But don’t make it look too cheap, otherwise they’ll get suspicious.” 

“Let us begin!” the king commanded.  “Remember, you must concisely defeat all twelve and be the last man standing to fulfil the prophecy.  Eleven will not suffice.”  

Clark pulled Chloe close and kissed her.  “I love you,” he whispered.

“Love you too,” she replied.  “Now go knock ‘em dead.  But not ‘dead’ dead; we can’t have you altering the future too much.”

Clark gave her one last kiss and reluctantly released her hand.  He gave all the weapons a cursory glance, and ignored them. 

Achilles, who had picked up his sword and shield, laughed and put them down.

“This is going to be too easy,” he boasted.  “Come, weakling… let us be done with this nonsense!” 

He swung his arm in a wide arc towards Clark’s face, which Clark successfully ducked… only to feel a hard thud in his mid-section as Achilles brought his knee up into his belly.  Clark gasped and sputtered, shocked that he could feel both the impact and pain of the blow.

“Demigod,” he wheezed.  For the first time, he realised that this wasn’t going to be the pain-free walk-in-the-park he’d initially thought it would be.  He really did have to fight back if he wanted to win, and somehow do it without killing his opponents.  But with his other abilities, he believed he still had the advantage. 

So the next time Achilles threw a punch, Clark was ready for him.  He grabbed the other man’s arm and swung him in a 360-degree arc, body-slamming him into the ground.  The crowd cheered wildly at the first true signs of a real fight.

“Come on, Clark – you can do it!” Chloe screamed excitedly. 

The fight continued, with body checks and blows on either side at every turn.  Clark glanced down at Achilles’s sandals, and saw what he was looking for: his exposed left heel. 

Achilles grabbed him in a wrestling hold and pulled him to the ground, attempting to pin Clark in a sleeper hold.  Clark waved his arms about wildly for a while, then quickly flipped and reversed their positions so that he had the Achilles in a choke hold.  At the same time, he surreptitiously reached down with his other hand and tightly clasped it around Achilles’s left heel.

The scream that emanated from him was blood-curdling.  The legends were true; that small, unprotected patch of skin was so sensitive, he couldn’t stand the touch of leather against it, much less a firm hold.  Immediately Achilles thumped his hand three times on the ground, indicating his surrender. 

The crowd gasped in shock.  Achilles had, until that very moment, been the undefeated champion of Greece.

But no longer.  Everyone cheered loudly as Clark stood up victorious.  Achilles recovered quickly from his ordeal, but conceded defeat and extended his arm to Clark for a sportsmanly handshake.

As he leaned forward, Clark could see the concern in his eyes.  “You know,” Achilles whispered.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Clark replied.  “You’ve a great future ahead of you; trust me.”

Achilles smiled, relief and understanding evident.  Both men bowed, and Achilles left the arena. 

“One down; eleven remain,” the king declared.  “Bellerophon… take to the floor!” 

Clark smiled and assumed battle stance.  The fight was well and truly on.

***

Chapter 6