AN: I am a bit concerned that you might be getting bored. Do not worry. The setting up is almost complete. Big things will happen soon.

Part 6

His heart pumped heavily in his chest, a steady staccato that he was almost certain Blair Waldorf could hear. He opened the door and saw his first knight. With a growl of displeasure, he bit out, "Someone had best be dying, Daniel."

"My lord, it is urgent."

Chuck leaned his head and listed to Daniel's news. "Lord Archibald is come. He has brought enough knights with him to hurt us."

There was no reason for Nathaniel Archibald to wish to fight with him. Of course, the knights were Henry's. The mission was Henry's. He glanced at his first knight and saw the dark glare he gave the princess. Chuck set his jaw and pushed at Daniel's chest. He closed the door behind him, then latched on the bar. "Can I trust you to guard this door?"

"If there is a skirmish," Dan started to protest.

Chuck shook his head. As the first knight, Sir Daniel should be the first to protect him, the first to fall if Chuck was to fall. He assured him, "Lord Archibald will not harm me. But I need you here more. Will you guard the door?"

Sir Daniel took a deep breath, then straightened. "I will never disobey an order from my lord."

"Good." Chuck turned down the dim corridor.

"Your grace!"

Chuck stopped, but did not turn around. "What is it?"

"I know," Daniel said.

This was when Chuck turned his head. "You do?" he said softly, looking only at the wall. Daniel was silent. "Then stay out there and make certain that she does not step out."

"Are we in danger?"

Chuck turned around and faced his knight. "We are always in danger while Henry is king."

"I know," Dan answered. He cleared his throat. "And your men had to take this one."

Chuck swallowed. "Stay close," he reminded Daniel.

"Sire, I wish to speak to the men who attacked her party. She has lost something then that is valuable to me," Daniel requested.

Despite how many years he had trusted Daniel, Chuck would not speak his brother's name in this conversation. His men had decided to take Blair for Chuck, and had not included his first knight. There was bound to be a reason even when nothing was apparent. Eric's name would not slip from Chuck's lips when Tudor men lined the entryway.

"Soon," Chuck vowed.

He made his way out into the darkening night. "Archibald," Chuck called out to the man who waited outside his castle. His cousin Nathaniel sat astride his horse, with his golden hair glowing under the moonlight. "Will you not step inside?"

Nathaniel watched the busy preparation happening in the village. He then turned to Chuck, then shook his head. "If you will, you may come out and face me man to man."

Chuck smirked at the dramatic pronouncement. He hurried out of the castle and stepped out onto the stone steps. The quicker this was over, the sooner he would return to his chambers. He imagined her face when she realized that she had been caged. Unafraid, Chuck walked straight into the circle of the Archibald men. They were out in the open in the busiest day of the year. The village within the castle walls was thrumming with excitement and the frenzy of the night's fair. Chuck's eyes went to the knight whose horse cantered and stopped next to Nate. Immediately, Chuck recognized the emblem on the knight's surcoat—a rose insignia. This time, instead of the White Rose sewn into his attire for his state visits or the Red Rose that had been stitched onto the sleeve of Nathaniel's, it was a double rose, Yorkist white on Lancastrian red.

"The Tudor rose," Chuck's voice rumbled when he recognized it.

"It is the English rose," responded the knight beside Nathaniel. "Your grace," the knight nodded at Chuck. "Aaron Rose."

"Well," Chuck drawled, "is that not a coincidence." He abhorred looking up at these men when it was they who were on his land. He walked towards the shade of the castle away from the Tudor and Archibald party. "Off the horse, Archibald, or you do not address me."

Chuck arched an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. Nathaniel conferred with Sir Aaron. Then, Nathaniel leapt off his horse. "You are still as stubborn as you were when you were a child."

The duke shrugged and waited for Nathaniel to come closer. Nathaniel stopped a few feet away from Chuck, but Chuck crooked his finger to urge him closer. Nathaniel frowned, but stepped forward. Chuck urged him even closer, and Nathaniel walked forward. Then, Nathaniel stumbled on the sudden elevation that he had not seen. Chuck's face broke into a smile. "And you, cousin, are oblivious as you have ever been."

Chuck stepped towards Nathaniel and gave him a warm embrace in greeting. "It has been too long, Nate," he said softly.

"It was out of our hands," Nathaniel answered. "But," he said as he pulled away, "I am here for the king."

"Ah," Chuck murmured, "who would have thought my cousin would become the long arm of the usurper?"

The blonde had the grace to appear affronted. "You should learn to think as I do, cousin, for our own survival. You cling to what is lost. I have sworn to end the bloodshed any way I can."

Chuck held up his hand. "You will not sway me," he warned Nathaniel. "Do not waste your breath."

Nathaniel assessed his cousin, then sighed. "I have left my message with Serena. I am certain you know."

"The cargo?" Chuck said pointedly. "There is nothing here."

Nathaniel's blue eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Neville," was his one word of response.

Chuck cursed under his breath. He should have known young Neville would spill. And though the young man knew only that there was a Lancastrian captive, Nathaniel as Henry's messenger would easily full the gaps in Neville's story and find out who exactly Chuck had left with. He came on the offense. "What did Henry offer you in return for this?"

"I am doing it for the good of England."

"That is a lie," Chuck accused.

"My entire line was wiped out, Bass," Nathaniel exclaimed. "We were an entire distinguished house all with born with the right to the throne. And now, Lancaster is left only with me."

The argument of ascension was effectively silenced by the rise of the Tudor, with less claim to the throne than any of the Lancastrians or the Yorkists who fought for it. Still, he had known Nathaniel, a very distant cousin, since they were children. Nathaniel Archibald had always been too engrossed in himself to convince Chuck of the reason he gave. His voice softened, "As a gift for your loyalty and to ensure no one will die, what has Henry promised you?" Chuck's lips curved in irony.

"Nothing," Nathaniel stressed. "But I will ask him for something, that will ensure my family will be forever allied with the king. The Archibald house will never be destroyed again."

His grin faded. "I knew it."

"A lifetime's alliance," Nathaniel finished.

"You will use her," Chuck stated.

Nathaniel's lips curled. Chuck saw the expression and knew that his cousin was not as dim as he thought. "Are you not doing the same?"

"Your cargo," Chuck said carefully, enunciating each word, "is not here, Archibald."

Nathaniel placed his hand on Chuck's arm. "I only seek to save you."

"You seek to save yourself and your gold."

Nathaniel stepped forward and said softly, "When Henry storms this keep, remember this night when you did not heed me."

"Nathaniel," Chuck answered, "if I am led to the executioner, you will be the farthest thing from my mind." He turned to the men waiting for Nathaniel. "You are welcome to stay if you wish to partake in our fair," he told them. "Our village can use your coins. But," he said as he looked pointedly at Nathaniel, "I would rather that you leave these lands."

He watched from his step as Nathaniel's party rode their horses to the gates. When he was satisfied that they were gone, Chuck made his way back inside the castle, to his chambers, where Sir Daniel stood guard. At once, when Chuck's footsteps sounded on the floor, Daniel's hand flew to his side where Chuck was certain rested the hilt of his sword. Upon seeing the duke, Daniel's hand rested at his side.

He nodded to dismiss Daniel, then stepped inside the room. The soft thud that knocked against his head surprised him. He had been too deep in thought about Nathaniel's warning that he had not prepared for this. Chuck's eyes widened as he saw the shoe drop onto the floor in front of him. He picked it up and waved it at Blair. And that was when he saw her.

And he heard for the first time in his head what a choir of angels probably sounded like when they sang.

With her lips pursed and her arms on her wrists, Blair Waldorf tapped her foot on the floor. She breathed deeply as if trying to calm herself. Most spectacularly, she had discarded the wet clothes she had been wearing when he left. He searched for it with amusement and found it peeking from under his bed. She thought to hide it because she found it ugly. Nathaniel, Henry, Daniel and even Eric flew out of his head. She stood at the center of the wide open space where the claw-foot tub had been earlier. He grinned, then turned his attention back to the delicious sight of her swamped in his light tunic. The shirt was long enough that it reached halfway down her thighs.

Chuck threw the shoe to the side and strode towards her. He placed his hands on the small of her back and pulled her flush against him. She gasped, but his mouth had found hers and the kiss stifled her exclamation. Her hands hit his chest softly in mock anger. With one hand still on her butt pushing her against him, he raised his other one and caught her wrists.

"Open your mouth," he breathed against her lips.

His breath was warm, and her lips parted of their own volition. Blair's fisted hands blossomed open and he released her wrists. She laid her palms on his chest. His lips curved when she pulled her lips away and she glared at him, her lips red and bruised. She breathed harshly. "How dare you." Her fingers curled in the green tunic, crumpling it as she pulled him closer. "I am not a prisoner!"

Chuck's gaze warmed. He pushed a lock of her hair behind her ear. And then, he took her by her waist and whirled them around. She caught her breath and she was forced to grip his shoulders. Blair clutched at him as if he were her lifeline. He pressed his lips against her temple as he quickly turned them around and around until the back of his knees hit the edge of the bed. He allowed himself to fall back onto the cushions and she tumbled along with him. Because of the strength of her grip and his hold on her, she ended up on top of him in a flurry of cloth and curly brown hair.

"You look like a peasant," he said laughingly, gesturing to her tumbled hair and ravaged lips. "A rather sullied peasant."

It was such an insult to her that she stiffly pulled herself so that she knelt above him, sitting astride with her knees on either side of his hips. "A peasant," she spat, ignoring that he had insulted her even more afterwards. He moved his hips under her. Her gaze flew to him. The tunic hiked up to her hips. Her smooth thighs were bare to his sight. She felt him pressing against her, and each time he shifted, lightning sparked through her veins.

His eyes fell to the creamy skin. Chuck raised himself up on his elbow. He reached out a hand and traced a figure of a rose on her skin with his finger. "Be grateful you can look like this. I will give you what you want."

She narrowed her eyes. "You will free me?"

Chuck grinned. "Do you see the fair outside?" Slowly, she nodded. "We are going to the fair." Blair hands flew to her mouth, and Chuck was delighted by her surprise. And then, he frowned when he noticed the moisture in her eyes. "It is but a fair, Blair."

Blair climbed off of him and the bed, and Chuck's heart fell at the loss of contact. Blair took his hand and pulled him up. "It is my first!" she confided. Blair straightened the tunic that she had only just crumpled moments before. Then, she pulled him with her out of his chambers and towards hers. "Sit." She pushed him onto her bed and turned to the folded garments that Serena had brought for her. She shook a dress out of its folding and presented it to Chuck. It was a simple, brown frock that had a black ribbon around the waist.

"We will purchase more acceptable garments for you. There are bolts of cloth from the Continent." Blair flashed him a bright smile, then vanished behind the veiled partition. "Why on earth is this your first fair?"

"You know why," she said, her voice muffled. Chuck could imagine how the dress was caught around her face. He itched to go behind the partition and held him into it. "The red rose is delicate. It does not blossom with the wildflowers. They will tear it apart," Blair said.

She stepped out of the partition and Chuck stood. There was his princess, in an unprepossessing frock that on any other woman would be hideous. Yet it only served to heighten the flawless skin, the innocent sultriness of her face. He gave her a soft smile and walked towards her. Chuck cupped her cheek. "You look perfect."

Blair returned the smile. She glanced down at his proffered arm. She placed her arm in his. "My first fair!" she exclaimed.

He led her out of the chambers and out into the night air. It was the first time Blair had been out as a free woman since she had been captured on route to the court. She let go of his arm and ran out into the night. She turned around and held out a hand to him. "You want to hold my hand?" he asked with an arched eyebrow.

"What scandal, my lord. The duke and his servant heading to the fair," she teased.

"We will do what we like," he decided. Chuck placed his hand in hers and allowed her to pull her along towards the lit center of the village fair. A small bonfire had been set up, and people from the village huddled around it. "Have you seen a traveling minstrel?"

She raised an eyebrow of her own. "My father was the earl of Richmond," was her only answer.

He scoffed. "Minstrels who travel with royal households pale in comparison to village minstrels." This time, he was the one who led the way. They neared the gathering and people started to turn their heads at the presence of the lord of the manor.

"Lord Bass!" exclaimed an older man with a cane.

"Joseph," Chuck greeted. "How are you?"

The man held out a small package covered in blue cloth. "For you."

Chuck accepted it and thanked the man. When they turned around, Blair saw a small child tottering towards them. The child handed Chuck a pear. Chuck grinned and took the fruit.

"Why do you take gifts from them?" she whispered. "They are poor!"

Chuck waved the attention away and gestured towards the performer. Then, he brought her to a tree a few yards from everyone else. "My people feel better when they can offer me something. Joseph was injured in the first battles. I gave him livelihood." He nodded towards the toddler. "Tamara's mother could ill afford it when her child grew sick. I take care of the village. This is my duty to them." He presented the grassy foot of the tree. "After you, my lady."

"Why thank you, my lord," she responded. With as much courtly grace as she could muster, Blair sank to a comfortable sitting position under the tree, with her legs in front of her. She noticed the people watching them with admiration—even love—in their eyes for the lord of the manor. Chuck sat beside her then leaned back against the trunk of the tree. "Look."

Blair watched closely as the minstrel started relaying his story. It was difficult to hear from the distance, but the animated face of the performer was as much joy to watch. Blair watched with a smile. Chuck, with the same smile, watched Blair. He sat up and laid his arm around her shoulders, then pulled her against his chest. He leaned back against the tree, and she rested against him.

Chuck held up the pear to her mouth. He smirked when she bit into the fruit without a second thought. "Is it good?"

She nodded. "Sweet."

Chuck leaned over her and turned her face to him. He slowly traced her moist lips with his tongue. Blair watched, entranced, as he bit a chunk of the pear and held it between his lips. Her eyes flickered to the succulent piece of fruit he teased her with. He did not need to say anything. His look was invitation enough. Blair drew herself up and captured the fruit. "You learn quickly," he said.

Blair took the fruit in her hand and held it up to her lips, then sucked at the hard flesh until her lips were near dripping with the juice. Proudly, she presented her lips to him. Chuck grinned and dipped his head to savor her lips.

After the minstrel, a juggler took his place. By then, Blair Waldorf no longer watched the performance. With her cheek pillowed against his chest, she turned her gaze towards the starlit sky. She slapped his chest, and Chuck started. "What?"

She pointed at the sky. "A falling star!"

He had seen falling stars. He had seen many through the lonely nights in Tuscany when he served Richard. "Are there no falling stars in Calais?"

"Inside the fine chambers of the Richmond's castles?" She laid a finger on her lips. "Wait. I need to wish." Blair closed her eyes.

When she opened them, he looked at her in confusion. "Tell me what life was like, Blair, as a princess in exile."

"It was fine," she told him softly. "The servants were kind to me. I never felt like I was not Margaret's daughter. And Harry—he adored me."

"Yet you have never been to a fair."

She craned her neck so she could meet his eyes even as she lay against him. "I have not done many things, your grace. It does not make me less than anyone." She drew a deep breath. "I envy you."

"Everyone in this village loves you, I think. I see the way they look at us, and they love you."

"As those in the Richmond lands loved you," he said.

"You warrant their love because of all that you do," she said. "I, on the other hand, was born." Blair smiled tightly. "But I thank you for tonight. I shall remember this always. All my life I had a wonderful shelter I could not leave."

And he had barricaded her in without so much as a warning. "I'm sorry," he said gruffly. "I will never again lock you in a chamber."

"You will free me?"

He sighed, then helped her sit up. Chuck held her gaze and he told her, "I cannot, Blair. You are my only hope to bring Henry to me."

Her eyes grew wide with horror. "And what do you plan to do, Chuck?"

"I will do to him what he has done to my father."

"It was war!" she cried out. "Chuck, no."

He shook his head. "Do not fret, princess," she said softly. "Your brother is king. He will bring an army and mayhap annihilate me."

Blair grasped his hand and pressed it to her chest. "He will. You know he will," she said urgently. "So please do not invite him."

"Why?" he said, his eyes falling to her lips.

"Why?"

"Why should I not draw Henry to me—for a final battle? I am prepared, Blair—be it he or I who will fall." She shook her head, and he noticed the tear rolling down her cheeks. He cupped her chin, then tipped her face up. "Tell me."

"Because you are sure to lose," she said.

He gave her a sad smile. "I was prepared to die when I first saw how many of my men had fallen. That is not enough."

"Because I cannot lose you."

"Why, Blair?"

She closed her eyes. "What else do you want?"

"The real reason why you would not have Henry's forces bearing down on Norfolk. Three words," he hinted. "Eight letters."

"I—" she breathed. Blair noted the flicker of triumph in his face. First, her father had died. And then, her mother had abandoned her. Henry had left her in Calais over and over again to pursue his crown. She loved only three people in her life. Those words were cursed. "I do not wish to say them." Blair pulled herself up to her feet. She made her way towards the small stalls.

"Then we await the king." He watched her from under hooded lids. Chuck rose and fell into step beside her. He took her hand and pulled her to him. Chuck cupped her face with both hands. "Just because you cannot say them does not mean they are not true." He pulled her against him and pressed a kiss on her forehead.

"Your grace!" Chuck hid his groan and turned to the new arrival. The man, garbed in a farmer's attire, was unfamiliar to Chuck. The man held two mugs to them. "From my very own farms on your soil."

Chuck accepted the watered wine mugs and handed one to Blair. "Thank you, my friend." Chuck sipped at his drink, then raised his mug in cheers.

Blair had placed her mug down. She continued towards the cloth stalls. They were halfway through the selection when Chuck stumbled beside her. She looped her arm around his waist, but when he stumbled, his weight was so heavy that her own knees buckled. "Chuck!" she cried out. Blair lifted him up, and she felt like her shoulder would be dislocated.

tbc