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The rusty clang of chain link fence sounded behind her as she took the first steps toward her destiny. Summoning every ounce of confidence she’d built over the last six years as a superhero, Kara struggled not to smooth her carefully chosen suit jacket, repeating the mantra ‘Today is the day’ silently.
“Today is the day.”
“Did you say something, Miss Danvers?” asked the guard, keys dangling from his outstretched fingers.
“Oh, um, nothing.”
“Remember, no weapons, no touching, no smoking, no food.”
Kara nodded, not disclosing that she was the weapon. It wasn’t that kind of visit, so he didn’t need to know that. Though Kara certainly would have felt more comfortable in the supersuit, she knew it absolutely would not help her case today.
“You’re in luck,” he said, stopping in front of a gray door thick as her thumb, “she’s in a good mood today.”
Kara noted his wry tone, filing that into her approach, unconsciously fisting her jacket as she stepped through the doorway.
Lillian Luthor, regal as ever despite the orange jumpsuit, sat chained to the chrome table in the center of the dull concrete room. Blank-faced save the minute twitching at the corners of her eyes and lips only a superpowered being could clock, her disdain rippled out in waves.
The room filled with the hot, dank oppression of a thousand unsaid things. Kara wished for an open window or something to help her breathe, yet no relief came. Against her better judgment, she decided to break the silence, pretending that it was any normal interview. She had a plan, after all. Speaking first gave up the tactical advantage, Kara wasn’t exactly one to keep her mouth shut.
“I-“
“What do you want, Supergirl?” It seems Lillian just needed her to open her mouth before spewing her vitriolic question.
“It’s about Lena.”
Lillian didn’t budge.
“She-she and I are-“
“Involved,” Lillian supplied, her voice dripping with boredom, but Kara heard the underlying disdain.
Kara squared her shoulders. “We’ve been living together for two years, in a romantic relationship for three.”
“I’m aware.”
“Of course you are,” Kara muttered. Nothing got past the woman. Even locked away in prison. “Well, I’m planning to-I’m going to-“
Kara fingered at her jacket again, eyes darting around the empty room.
Lillian cackled harshly, in that way the elite pick up at boarding school, eyes crinkling in genuine mirth. “You must be joking.”
Cocking her head like a puppy, Kara asked, “What?”
“You’re not honestly thinking of proposing marriage to Lena. A Luthor?”
Cheeks pinking, Kara dug deep for her superhero bravado, but Lillian kept going, completely oblivious to her precarious position as a prisoner locked in a room with the most powerful being on Earth. “An alien and a Luthor? What a ridiculous circus act.”
“It’s not an act. We’re happy,” Kara insisted. Very happy, she reminded herself.
“Child-“ Lillian began, condescension dripping from her tongue.
“Um, you should know, I’m actually a couple of years older than you, so the ‘child’ insult doesn’t really work on me,” Kara interrupted.
Lillian’s lip quirked. “Be that as it may. It will never happen. She may dally with you for awhile, I’m sure the bedroom antics live up to the ‘super’ moniker—
Kara blushed a deep crimson.
“—but sooner or later, she’ll realize her mistake and toss you aside. I raised her better than to take up with alien trash.”
“We’ve already talked about it,” Kara murmured, ignoring the ongoing insults. She and Lena were on the same page about their future, even if nothing official had been announced.
Finally, something broke through the annoying blasé exterior, bringing the woman up short. Lillian clenched her fists, looking as if she’d tear right out of the cuffs to get her hands around Kara’s throat. Or maybe Lena’s. Kara gave her space to process, staying quiet as Lillian’s heart thudded loudly, filling the room with uncontestable rage. Eventually, she found the wherewithal to take in deep breaths, maintaining composure.
Tossing her head, Lillian fixed Kara with a flinty gaze. “You have a bracelet?”
“And a ring.” Kara had long ceased feeling amazed at the amount of Kryptonian knowledge possessed by any member of the Luthor clan. It just was.
“Trying to fit in with Earth customs?” Lillian sneered.
Kara shrugged. “Trying to make Lena happy.”
“I’m sure.”
“As a matter of note, Earth isn’t the only planet to bind partners using rings, the Zamarons are famous for it, and even on Earth, it’s not a global custom.” Kara slipped into nonchalance so easily, anyone else might have believed it her normal state of being. Internally though, Kara knew she needed to be more careful, or else she’d wind up with Kryptonite mixed into her cereal if Lillian decided to hear haughty disdain toward her ignorance.
“Noted.” Lillian cocked an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, Miss Zor-El…
While Kara’s soul healed a little each time someone used her real name, in the hands of Lillian Luthor, it set the ragged edges of that painful hole smoldering. Not the point.
“I cannot, in good conscience, give my blessing to this union. It would be an abomination.”
Fury raced through Kara, blind rage pulsing behind her eyes at so casual a statement. She struggled to get a handle on herself before this meeting ending much goopier than she intended. Taking a deep breath, Kara let it out slowly, chilling the room. Lillian cocked an eyebrow smugly, as though her point were proven.
“Lillian…”
“Mrs. Luthor,” Lillian interrupted, frostily.
It was a battle of wills and each had scored a point. Kara desperately wished to tap her foot, wring her hands, or move in any way that dispelled her nervous energy, but she couldn’t do that here. Today is the day.
“Mrs. Luthor,” she amended, burying annoyance behind a smile little more than bared teeth. Today’s the day. This is for Lena. She squared up, leaning her folded arms on the cold metal table. “I’ve never understood your need to be rude to me, or anyone else, especially Lena. It seems a strange choice to me—alienating those who could help you make the world a better place—but that’s the choice you’ve made.” Inner Kara snickered at the way Lillian glowered slightly at her word choice. “There doesn’t seem to be anything I can do to change that.”
“I’ve also never understood your pathological need to elevate the Luthor name. You’re not a Luthor, except by marriage—not that that went so well—but all of the wealth, status, genius you prize so much? You kind of infiltrated that, didn’t you? You may have your own brilliance, of a sort, but it isn’t because you’re a Luthor, and anything you’ve done since adopting the title would only be elevated by it, not for your own sake. So, it seems strange to me that you would feel the need to cling toward some kind of nature over nurture when your own nurture is what gave you so much power and prestige.”
Lillian’s face boiled bright red, her mask deteriorating. Her fingernails, previously shaped by the best manicurists Earth had to offer, now pale and lifeless, dug into the meat of her palms, ineffectually chained to the table.
“I’ve lived on Earth for decades now, Mrs. Luthor, at first learning how to be just like everyone else. Never hurting anyone, but always able to hear and see how humans hurt one another. How you hurt them. I only donned the cape to help stop that misery. And since that day, I have only tried to make the world a better, happier, safer place for everyone living here, whether native or adopted. Mrs. Luthor—Lillian—can you say the same?”
Kara stared at the woman, eyes searching for some indication that her words reached a hardened heart. Lillian said nothing, steel meeting steel. Kara sighed, leaning back in her chair.
“Lena is a Luthor, the best of them. The best of all of us. She possesses a brilliance to easily rival the most advanced civilizations and the heart to use that for the betterment of others. And whether we stay here or move to another planet or galaxy, because you know she’ll come with me, we are getting married. If she’ll have me.”
“Then why are you here?” Lillian asked with a quiet sneer.
Kara shrugged again. She’d asked herself this question many times in the weeks since deciding this meeting needed to happen. “Lena didn’t ask me to, if that’s what you’re wondering. In fact, she’s mentioned in the past that she found this practice to be outdated and stupid. The only parent whose opinion mattered died when she was four.”
Lillian flinched at these words. It was tiny, but present.
“But call me old-fashioned. Parents were heavily involved in the choosing of partners on Krypton, believing the family unit needed to come to the best, most logical choice for the betterment of the House and community. When I came to Earth, I learned the language and culture watching old movies. They, well, I guess re-enforced, that sense of belonging.”
Kara watched Lillian file that tidbit away in her Kryptonian mind palace, holding back an eye roll for the sake of civility.
“To be clear, Lillian, Lena doesn’t want, need, nor care for your opinion, or blessing, or whatever. This was my decision, alone. I felt like you should know my intentions, if only to be aware of them, or their inevitability, as the last surviving member of Lena’s family. I wanted to make you aware that I will take absolute care of her. She will never want for love or caring or support. She will always be free to make her own decisions, but with the total knowledge that I stand beside her in all of them. I think that is the only promise once can make regarding the future of someone they love, so I’m making it you. I love her, and she will always know that.”
Kara breathed out, pleased to have made it through that speech. Whatever happened next barely mattered. Her course was set and she looked forward to it.
“Then, I suppose there is little else to say, Miss Zor-El,” Lillian said, flatly.
While she’d expected a reaction like this, disappointment still washed through Kara, not for herself, but for Lena. Like it or not, Lillian had been the closest thing to a parent in Lena’s life for long time and Kara wished the woman saw her love as important as she did.
Shaking her head, Kara left that tiny room, saddened but resolved. She would ensure the rest of Lena’s life was filled with love the way the first half should have been.
Today is the day.
The proposal went off without a problem. Stars, romantic words, promises of forever, and two crying women fawning over a handcrafted ring and bracelet set.
On the day of their wedding, a heavy, ivory envelope arrived, no return address or signature.
Just a complex chemical equation and the words “Live long for her” written in elegant script.
The formula created a serum which made Kara immune to Kryptonite poisoning.