Title: The Past Mirrors the Present
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters and none of the storylines.
Rating: R. It's romantic, a bit sexy but not dirty
Spoilers: None in this chapter
Setting: Chloe Sullivan graduated from Columbia University and immediately afterwards got a Fulbright Scholarship to study at the University of Edinburgh in Scotland. While there, she looked up one of Lex’s .
(This story is based upon the book & film “Possession”, but with our favorite characters in the leading role. Investigating the mystery of the first Alexander Luthor will no doubt, inspire this one to see what’s in front of him.)
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Chloe Sullivan had graduated summa cum laude from Columbia University in the winter. Immediately afterwards, she took her savings and headed off for a month long vacation in Europe. Before she left, though, on a dare she decided to submit an application for a Fulbright Scholarship. It was Pete who’d put the idea in her head initially, when she first decided to give up on journalism as a major, focusing instead on Political Science.
“I’ve seen what it’s done to the people I love in the past, Pete,” she’d told him, “and I know what it has done to me. I can’t do it anymore. Don’t get me wrong – I still love to write and I still intend to write, but I need to take a….different approach.”
“So, find your own way then,” Pete had told her, “get out there and see more of the world. You’ve always talked about it and nothing’s holding you back from doing it now.”
That innocuous conversation had put the idea of leaving firmly in her mind. Her father was secure in his position as the head of LexCorp’s main plant in New Mexico. Surprisingly, Pete had found happiness back in Smallville – with Lana of all people. Two months after he’d graduated from Kansas State, he and Lana Lang became engaged. It had taken most of Smallville by complete surprise, but she’d wished them the best.
Strangely enough, the one person who had not offered up an opinion on their coming nuptials, was Clark Kent. Though she never talked about it, Chloe could sense Lana’s sadness and knew there had occurred something between the two of them. Whatever it had been – Chloe was too tactful to inquire further – had altered their relationship irrevocably. Lana had moved on with her life; a life that was now with Pete, as he headed to Harvard Law. The three had all flown out to the East Coast together, with Chloe flying out to Scotland shortly afterwards. No one had seen Clark for months.
Lex had remained one of Chloe’s closest friends despite Pete’s disapproval. He had been generous enough to offer to fly her out on his personal jet when he heard the good news about her scholarship. They’d met at her hotel bar on the night before she was to fly out.
“Why Scotland of all places?” he’d wondered.
“The University of Edinburgh offers a wonderful post-graduate program in politics and English,” she’d replied. “It’s time for a change, to explore a bit of that world I’m always talking about.”
“I thought you were hell-bent on journalism?” Lex questioned.
“Things changed,” she uttered calmly, “It’s still a part of me, but I don’t have the same zeal for it that I once did. That’s why I decided to focus my studies on writing and political science.”
“It sounds rather time-consuming.”
“Maybe it is,” she agreed,” but I have the time. I’m young, unattached and energetic. Besides, I’ve got a scholarship and my savings. I can afford the time.”
“You’ve got something else as well,” he’d said, handing her an envelope.
Puzzled, she took the envelope he handed to her and poured out the contents. One item was a set of keys.
“It’s for an apartment on Royal Terrace, right off Queen Street,” he’d said.
“Lex, you didn’t have to. The housing would have been fine-“
“And was not included in your scholarship, remember. This way your savings will go further. The second set of key on that ring is for your transportation.”
“I can’t take this-“
“Chloe, please let me do this,” he requested politely. “After all you’ve been through….with my father especially, I can’t help but feel responsible that you’ve somehow lost your dream.”
“We don’t know that. I’m just studying. Nothing’s carved in stone yet.”
“Even still, “ he’d insisted, “if you are on a new path towards a new dream, let me at least make the transition comfortable.”
“This better not be a huge, sprawling place, “she’d warned with a laugh, “otherwise I’m giving it back.”
“It’s a moderately sized, garden apartment with good security, centrally located and all yours.”
The sheaf of paperwork neatly folded up in the envelope was a deed of sale. It was in fact, a statement of ownership.
“Are you trying to say you bought this for me?”
“Consider it an investment into what I consider will be a very brilliant future. Yours.”
Both were silent for a moment. Chloe shook her head in disbelief. “Lex, as wonderful as this is, I’m not sure I can accept. It’s too much.”
“You’re worth it. Please accept it, Chloe. No strings attached. I just want to assure that your new life overseas starts off properly.”
“This is amazingly kind of you, Lex, “ she’d said, almost crying, “Thank you so very much.”
He’d taken hold of her hand and their eyes had locked for a moment. Chloe felt it impossible to break her gaze. There was such sad determination in his expression and at that moment, he was so unguarded. It was rare to see his defenses down.
“I’m going to miss you.”
“Then visit,” she’d teased. “I’ve got a place now. I’m sure it’s big enough for you to crash.”
He smiled as he let go of her hand and looked away. She regretted the loss almost immediately.
What the hell are you thinking, Chloe Sullivan, she thought to herself as she looked down at his hand.
Silently, Lex followed her gaze. Chloe seemed puzzled somehow and he was intrigued.
No, that’s not the only reason I’m intrigued. Chloe Sullivan has become a poised and charming woman. A very beautiful one at that.
“But you’ll have an entirely new life to lead. Having the old guy around will be like having the proverbial albatross around your neck.”
“No, it won’t,” she replied softly. “There will always be a place for you, Lex. That’s a promise....and you are far from being an old man.”
Although she’d always been sparring with him, there was always a warmth to Chloe he’d never quite admitted to himself. She was one person who had never looked for a way to expulse him from a friendship. Selfless kindness was a rare quality, one she possessed.
“What time is your flight?”
“Tomorrow morning at six.” She’d replied, “So I ‘d better be going. I have an early start in the morning.”
“I’ll be there,” he’d said suddenly, “to see you off.”
Why does it that make me so sad, she’d thought. Masking that emotion as best she could, Chloe had replied, “I’m glad, Lex. I’d hate to-“
She hesitated for a moment. Lex stood and placed his hand on her back. “It’s alright. It’s late and you’re probably nervous about tomorrow’s trip.”
“Yes, that’s it,” she’d replied, unconvinced as he walked to the elevator.
“Ever since you mentioned Edinburgh,” he told her, “I’ve been curious, I must admit. After the revelations about my grandparents-“
Chloe nodded, “You’ve been curious about your family tree?”
“Yes, exactly. I was able to trace a great-great granduncle. Apparently, he’s not only my namesake, but was a rather famous writer of his time.”
“You don’t say, “ she’d replied, “I’ll do some research and let you know if I find anything out. Alexander Luthor, the writer. Interesting.”
They came to the elevator and she smiled shyly at him. “I’d better go up.”
“Yes, “ Lex had replied.
As the elevator arrived, Chloe quickly turned and hugged him vigorously. “Thank you, Lex. I’m going to miss you as well.”
Intrigued, Lex continued to watch her as she entered the elevator, looking away only when the doors closed to ferry her upstairs.
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True to her word, just as soon as she was settled in, Chloe set off to the main university at the University of Edinburgh to see what she could find about the obscure poet. She was directed to the library’s archives. Taking a slip and completing to enter her request, she patiently waited in the long, dark corridor.
“Is there a Chloe Sullivan present?” a voice called through an open office door. A tall, dark-haired woman stepped.
“Yes,” Chloe answered, walking up towards the spectacled, older woman. She was beckoned into the office.
“I take it you’re researching obscure Scottish poets, Miss Sullivan,” the woman replied. She had a stiff English accent. “Strange, for an American that is. I’m Madeleine Teslaine, head archivist for Collected Works, Poetry.”
“His name was mentioned to me by a friend prior to my arrival,” Chloe replied. “I’ll take it some of his work is available.”
“Indeed, it is. I’ll have my associate take you to the appropriate room. I’ve rung for her and she should be here momentarily.”
“Why did you think it was strange that I’d choose to research Luthor?” Chloe asked.
“Outside of the strictest poetic cliques, his name is forgotten, “ the woman replied haughtily, “and most of our American Fulbright’s stick to Donne.”
Thankfully, a moment later Ms. Teslaine’s associate arrived. She was a twenty-ish, redhaired student. Smiling at Chloe, she introduced herself.
“You mus’ be Ms. Sullivan,” the assistant said, “I’m Kaitlin MacTavish. I’ll take you to where you kin fin’ the Luthor archives.
“Thank you,” Chloe said.
Walking out of Ms. Teslaine’s office, they proceeded to the archive’s east wing.
“Only one box is allo’d out at a’ time,” she admonished, “Is there anything in particular you’d want first?”
“Did he keep yearly journals?”
“It were a custom of the time,” Kaitlin replied,” The papers are arranged by year. I’d suggest ya’ start with 1870. Here. You can wait in the examination area while I get them.”
She opened the door and motioned for Chloe to sit down. The room was dusty, but well lit – a series of desk and long tables. She sat down and waited for the records, placing her bag on one of the long tables and taking out a notepad.
Ten minutes later, Kaitlin returned with an archive box in her hands that she placed on Chloe’s table. “There it is, then. I expect that should keep you tied up for some hours.”
“Can you give me any background on Alexander Luthor?” Chloe asked.
“Very little is known ‘bout him,” Kaitlin said, “He was born in Edinburgh and lived here most o’ his life. His companion for twenty years was another writer name o’ Joseph Coleridge, an Englishman. Most of his work had to do with love and fidelity, but he changed towards the end o’ his life. I believe most o’ latter work dealt with loss and betrayal”
“Companion?”
“Aye. That’s what it were called then.”
“Thanks, Kaitlin. Where can I find you once I’m done with this lot?”
“A’ the door to the left, there’s an intercom. Dial the star and 147 and you’ll reach my office. If you need me, that’s also my door number.
Stepping out, she left Chloe to examine the contents of the box. It contained notebooks of various sixes, loosely-bound letters, notepads and cards. She started with the larger notebooks which she assumed were the journals.
An hour later, Chloe was ready to climb the walls. Three journals and she’d found only minor details about daily events – visitors, recitations and parties – but nothing about Alexander himself. Placing the journals back in the box, she reached for another notebook.
This one was smaller, red oxblood leather and gilt bound. The title page was “Record of Visitors, 1870”. Most of the names were similar, but as she looked over the listing for March of that years, Chloe located an interested entry.
“Joseph, in Glasgow…..Held small dinner party…….four…….Caroline Donovan, poetess, in attendance.
And so began a pattern. Every time there was an entry for C. Donovan, Joseph was noted as being somewhere else. Also, it was always for a party of four. That made little sense. According to the other dinner parties, the minimal amount of guests he hosted was ten. Why was the number less when referenced with Miss Donovan?
Putting the book to the side, Chloe looked in the box for anything other document that might provide her with more information. One of the smaller notebooks, blue and weathered, was labeled “Recipes and Hosting, 1870”. Well, perhaps there might be something there.
Opening the book, she started to skim through the pages, finding nothing of note. When Chloe was about half-way through, she grew frustrated and opened the book midway. Towards the center of the page, she found a small, sealed and folded letter.
She looked around. Thankfully she was alone in the room. As quietly as possible, she broke the ancient seal and unfolded the letter. Her eyes grew large with surprise as she read:
Madam,
Will there ever come a time when, resting on the banks of the river Esk, your face will not come to mind? Ah, but my soul decries that it will not be so. I am haunted, perplexed, chagrined by the reverie brought upon by this shunning. Why will you not speak? Pray, angel, if I cannot see your face, send to me a letter. Burn my eyes with acid recriminations, I beg of you. If I cannot have you, I shall have your words.
I have enclosed the result of your seclusion in the form of a poem. And it is to you that I must be grateful. Metamorphosis has indeed the vexation of self-flagellation. It is a whip you yield, a control you have yet discard.
The poem was simple, but beautiful:
And there it was
So as to be
the budding creature
within he
From pupa's birthing
here, to butterfly
if to her liking
so shall he fly
Chloe was stunned by the passion of the words chosen. If Alexander Luthor and Joseph Coleridge were indeed ‘companions’, who was this ‘Madam’ ? It had to be Caroline Donovan. She was the only female guest constantly in the presence of Alexander when Joseph was absent.
Unable to resist, she took another cursive look around and folded the letter up, secretly stashing it within her inner jacket pocket. Putting the rest of the books and papers back in the box, she rang for Kaitlin.
“Read everything already?” Kaitlin questioned when she walked in the room to collect the papers. “Aye, but you’ve been ‘ere three hours already.”
“I know,” Chloe replied, “I’ve got some notes, but there’s so much recorded detail on his entertainment, friends, comings, goings….etc. Before I look up anything else, I think I’d like to look into some of his work. But I will be back to look through more documents, that much I know.”
“Got a taste of it I see?” Kaitlin teased.
“For what?”
“You’ve got the look of a reporter to me, with a critical eye no doubt. It’s always the critic that makes the best literary detective.”
Chloe smiled at the compliment as she picked up her bag.
“Come straight to the East Wing,” Kaitlin instructed her, “no need to see the sourpuss. Nor ‘er fault, really. Only English after all.”
“I’ll be back, Kaitlin,” Chloe promised guiltily as she walked out of the room.
The moment she was out the door, she took her cellphone out of her jacket pocket and dialed Lex.
“Chloe? You do realize it’s 7:00 o’clock in the morning-“
“Yes, but this couldn’t wake. I finally made good on the promise I made to you.”
“Which one?”
“To look up Alexander Luthor. I think I may have found something in his archives here at Edinburgh.”
“If it’s about the fact he lived with a man, I already knew-“
“Oh, I think we can safely say he liked his bread buttered on both sides,” she teased.
“Come again?”
“I found something, as I just said. When can you come visit?”
“This must be good.”
“I’ve got a feeling it will be. Your ancestor had a hidden love. A hidden love that no one has uncovered.”
“Until now, that is.”
“Exactly. You’ve said that you wanted to know about the past – about your family history. Well, there’s a mystery here waiting to be unraveled. I think it’d be good for you.”
Hesitating slightly before he replied, Lex answered, “I think I can be there by the end of the week.”
“Perfect,” she replied, “I can do some more investigating in the meanwhile.”
“What about your classes?”
“Don’t worry about it. I can do both. I’ll see you soon.”
She hung up the phone and proceeded to the main library, intent on researching anything and everything she could find out on the poetess, Caroline Donovan.
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Back in Smallville, Lex wondered why this particular bit of Luthor mystery had intrigued Chloe so deeply. He could hear the excitement in her voice as she confessed her discovery and couldn’t help but be flattered by it. Also, his own curiosity was sparked by the mention she’d found Luthor archives in Edinburgh.
Once again, Lex found his life was being called to where Chloe Sullivan was located.
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