Smallville: the asgardian
The Ruby Rebellion
The Kansas sun was a different beast than the humid, suffocating embrace of the Brazilian rainforest, but Veena Parker had spent the last three months learning to appreciate the contrast. She stood by her locker, the late September breeze drifting through the open windows of Smallville High, carrying the scent of harvested corn and floor wax. Her skin was still several shades deeper than it had been in June, a sun-kissed glow that made her auburn hair look like polished mahogany and her blue eyes pop with an almost supernatural intensity.
"I’m just saying, the coffee here tastes like battery acid compared to what we had in Rio," Veena said, leaning against the cold metal as Chloe Sullivan approached.
Chloe stopped, adjusting her glasses as she looked Veena up and down. "You’ve been back for four weeks, and you’re still complaining about the beans? Honestly, Veena, the tan is doing most of the heavy lifting for your social standing right now. Half the football team is still walking into walls when you pass by."
Veena laughed, a bright, melodic sound that drew a few wandering eyes. "It’s not the tan, Chloe. It’s the Asgardian aura. My dad says the South American sun acts like a battery for our lineage. I feel like I could bench press a school bus."
"Please don't," Chloe said, checking her watch. "We have the sophomore class ring ceremony in ten minutes. It’s a Smallville tradition. Very 'Ra-Ra, go Crows,' but apparently, it’s a rite of passage. Even Clark is actually participating."
At the mention of Clark, Veena’s heart did that familiar, rhythmic skip. The summer had been long, filled with postcards and occasional, hushed phone calls that crackled with the distance between continents. She hadn't seen him properly since she’d returned, save for a few hurried waves in the hallway.
"Is he?" Veena asked, trying to sound casual. "I thought Clark wasn't big on jewelry."
"His mom insisted," Chloe said, nudging her. "Come on, let’s get to the gym before Pete starts doing his own play-by-play commentary of the seating arrangements."
The gymnasium was packed, the air thick with the smell of popcorn and teenage anticipation. Veena found a spot on the bleachers next to Pete, who gave her a high-five that stung her palm.
"Welcome back to the grind, Parker," Pete grinned. "You look like you spent the summer fighting jaguars."
"Just one," Veena joked, her eyes scanning the crowd. "Where’s the man of steel?"
"Down there," Pete pointed to the floor where the sophomore class was lined up. "Looking like he’d rather be anywhere else."
Clark was standing near the end of the row. He looked taller, if that were even possible, his shoulders broader under a simple blue button-down. But there was a restlessness to him, a slight tension in his jaw that Veena recognized. He caught her eye in the stands and offered a small, shy wave. Veena felt the heat rise in her cheeks, a flush that had nothing to do with the Brazilian sun.
Principal Reynolds stood at the podium, his voice droning on about tradition and the future. One by one, the students stepped forward to receive their class rings. When it was Clark’s turn, he stepped up with a practiced modesty. He took the small velvet box, opened it, and slid the heavy gold band onto his finger.
The ring featured a large, square-cut ruby that caught the overhead lights, gleaming with a deep, blood-red brilliance.
The moment the metal touched his skin, Veena felt a jolt. It wasn't the usual warm hum she shared with him. It was a sharp, jagged spike of energy, like a discordant note in a symphony. She sat up straighter, her brow furrowing.
"Something’s wrong," she whispered.
"What?" Chloe asked, not looking away from the stage. "He looks fine. A little stiff, maybe."
On stage, Clark’s posture changed. The slight slouch, the "aw-shucks" farm boy demeanor he wore like a shield, vanished. He stood perfectly straight, his head tilting back as if he were inhaling a sudden, intoxicating scent. A slow, predatory smirk spread across his face—a look Veena had never seen on him.
He didn't walk back to his seat. He hopped off the stage, landing with a heavy thud that seemed to vibrate through the floorboards, and headed straight for the exit, ignoring the confused look from the Principal.
"Clark?" Veena muttered, standing up. "Pete, Chloe, stay here."
"Veena, wait!" Chloe called out, but Veena was already moving, weaving through the bleachers with a speed that defied human reflexes.
She caught up to him in the hallway. He was walking with a swagger, his hands shoved into his pockets, whistling a tune that sounded dark and triumphant.
"Clark! Hey, wait up!" Veena reached out, grabbing his shoulder.
He spun around, and the breath caught in Veena’s throat. His eyes, usually a soft, inviting navy, were burning with a cold, rebellious fire. The pupils were slightly dilated, and there was a restless, aggressive energy radiating from him that felt like a physical weight.
"Veena," he said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register that sent a shiver down her spine. "You look... incredible. I didn't realize how much I missed that tan."
He stepped into her personal space, closer than he ever dared to go. He didn't look shy or hesitant. He looked like he wanted to devour her.
"Clark, you’re acting weird," Veena said, her hand dropping from his shoulder but her eyes locked on the red stone on his finger. "That ring... where did the school get the rubies?"
Clark looked down at the ring, twisting it slowly. "Who cares? I feel great, V. I feel like I’ve finally stopped holding my breath. You know that feeling? The one where you just want to break something because it feels good?"
He reached out, his fingers brushing against her jawline. His touch was hot, almost searing. "We should get out of here. Why are we wasting time in this dump? Let’s go to Metropolis. I can get us there in five minutes."
Veena pulled back, her instincts screaming. "Clark, stop. Look at me. This isn't you. You’re not the guy who wants to 'break things.'"
Clark laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. "Maybe this is the real me, Veena. Maybe the 'good boy' was the lie. Don't you get tired of it? The hiding? The training? You’re a celestial being, for God’s sake. Why are you acting like a cheerleader?"
He stepped toward her again, his presence overwhelming. "You and me. We’re the only ones who matter in this town. Everyone else is just... ants. Why are we playing by their rules?"
"Because the rules are what keep us human, Clark!" Veena snapped, her own power beginning to simmer beneath her skin. She could see the faint red veins pulsing around the ring, a malevolent energy bleeding into his system. "That ring is doing something to you. Take it off."
Clark’s expression darkened, the playful smirk turning into a sneer. "Make me."
Before she could react, he moved. It wasn't the blur of speed he used to save people; it was a violent, deliberate lunge. He grabbed her by the waist and, in a burst of terrifying strength, leaped. They crashed through the ceiling of the hallway, soaring through the insulation and the roof tiles, bursting out into the open air.
Veena gasped as the wind whipped her hair, the ground dropping away beneath them. Clark landed on the roof of the gymnasium, his grip on her iron-clad. He didn't let her go; he pinned her against a brick chimney, his eyes searching hers with a terrifying intensity.
"You like the view, don't you?" he whispered, leaning in so close their noses touched. "This is what it feels like to be us, Veena. No limits. No secrets."
"This is what it feels like to be a monster, Clark," Veena hissed. She slammed her palms against his chest, channeling a burst of celestial blue light.
The energy hit him like a physical blow, surprising him enough to loosen his grip. Veena twisted away, landing in a low crouch on the gravel roof. Her hands were glowing, the blue mist curling around her fingers like smoke.
"I don't want to fight you," she said, her voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. "But I will if I have to. Take off the ring."
Clark straightened his shirt, unbothered by the blast. "You’ve got fire, V. I always knew you did. That’s why I like you. But you’re still thinking like a servant. You’re Asgardian. You were born to rule, not to blend in."
He blurred again, appearing behind her. Veena spun, throwing a roundhouse kick that he caught with one hand. He pulled her toward him, his strength absolute.
"Give in, Veena," he murmured against her ear. "Stop being the 'good girl.' Let’s see what that celestial blood can really do. We could own this state by sunset."
"You’re sick," Veena said, her eyes stinging with tears. "The Clark I know would hate this. He’d hate you."
"The Clark you know is a coward," he spat.
Veena realized then that she couldn't win this with strength. Even with her Asgardian heritage, Clark was a force of nature she couldn't overpower. She had to be the trainer. She had to find the weakness.
She went limp in his arms, her energy fading. Clark blinked, his grip softening in confusion.
"That’s better," he said, his voice smoothing out. "See? It’s easier when you stop fighting."
"You’re right," Veena whispered, looking up at him with wide, watery eyes. "I’m tired of fighting, Clark. I just... I want to see the ring. It’s so beautiful."
Clark preened, holding his hand up. "It is, isn't it? It feels like power."
Veena reached out, her fingers trembling as they touched the gold band. She didn't pull. She didn't strike. She closed her eyes and projected every ounce of the peace she had found in the Brazilian rainforest—the quiet, the life, the connection to the earth—into the stone.
She used her celestial energy not as a weapon, but as a filter. She forced a surge of pure, white-blue light into the ruby, clashing against the jagged red radiation.
Clark let out a roar of pain, his head snapping back. The red glow in his eyes flickered, fighting against the calm she was imposing.
"Let... go!" he groaned, his muscles bulging.
"Not a chance," Veena gritted through her teeth.
With a final, desperate shove of her will, she hooked her thumb under the edge of the ring and yanked. The gold slid off his finger, and the moment the contact was broken, the red energy vanished like a blown-out candle.
Clark’s knees buckled. He collapsed onto the gravel, his chest heaving, his face pale and slick with sweat. The ring rolled away, clattering against a vent.
Veena stood over him, her own breath coming in ragged gasps. She picked up the ring, wrapping it in her handkerchief to avoid touching the stone directly.
"Clark?" she asked softly.
He groaned, rolling onto his back. He looked up at the sky, his eyes slowly returning to their deep, familiar navy. The predatory fire was gone, replaced by a look of profound, agonizing confusion.
"Veena?" he whispered, his voice cracking. "What... what happened? We were in the gym, and then..."
He looked around, seeing the shattered roof tiles and the chimney he’d pinned her against. His eyes widened in horror.
"Did I... did I do this?"
Veena sat down on the gravel next to him, her hand resting on his arm. This time, there was no spark, just the steady, solid warmth of a friend.
"It wasn't you, Clark. It was the ring. It was... Red Kryptonite, I think. It took everything you keep locked up and turned the volume to eleven."
Clark sat up, burying his face in his hands. "I said things to you. I remember... I remember feeling like I wanted to hurt everyone. Like I wanted to take whatever I wanted. Veena, I’m so sorry. I didn't mean... I would never..."
"I know," Veena said, pulling him into a hug. He was trembling, the strongest boy on Earth shaking like a leaf in the wind. "I know you wouldn't. That’s why I’m here. To make sure the 'good boy' stays in charge."
Clark pulled back, looking at her with a mix of shame and gratitude. "You saved me again. I don't know why you keep doing it. I was a monster to you."
"Because I know who you really are," Veena said firmly. "And because someone has to keep you from flying off to Metropolis every time you put on a piece of jewelry."
Clark managed a weak, watery smile. "I think I’m done with rings for a while."
"Good call," Veena agreed. She looked at the handkerchief in her hand. "We need to find out where these rubies came from. If the whole sophomore class has these, Smallville is about to become a war zone."
Clark stood up, offering her a hand. He pulled her up, his grip gentle and careful, the way it always was. "Let’s go find Chloe and Pete. If anyone can track down a shipment of tainted gemstones, it’s Chloe."
As they climbed down from the roof, Clark stopped, looking at her in the fading afternoon light. "Veena? About what I said... about you being a warrior..."
"Forget it, Clark," she said, walking ahead of him. "I know you were just high on space-rock."
"No," Clark said, catching her hand. "I meant the part about you being incredible. You don't need a ring to be powerful. You’re the strongest person I know."
Veena felt that familiar glow in her chest, the one that had nothing to do with Asgard or Brazil. She squeezed his hand and started walking back toward the school.
"Just remember that next time you feel like leaping over a building," she teased. "I don't always have a spare handkerchief."
The sophomore year was only a month old, and Smallville was already trying to tear itself apart. But as Veena walked beside Clark, the red ring safely tucked away, she knew they could handle it. The summer might have changed her skin, but the chaos of Smallville had forged something else—a partnership that was stronger than any stone.
"So," Clark said as they reached the back door of the gym. "Metropolis? Really?"
"You were very insistent," Veena laughed. "Apparently, you think I’d look good in a penthouse."
"You’d look good anywhere, Veena," Clark said, his voice sincere. "But I think I prefer you right here."
Veena smiled, the Brazilian sun finally setting behind the Kansas hills. "Me too, Clark. Me too."