Chapter 8 of In Love & War

The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return.

Author: Isabelle

Summary: Post 1.13. Chuck Bass left New York after he lost Blair and Nate in one day. Years later, a deep economic crisis has left the world broke, and the only family in the UES with money left is the Bass family and its sole heir: Chuck Bass. Eleanor convinces Blair to marry Chuck for his money, but all the feelings Blair left buried a long time ago start to surface when she realizes he's not the man she thought he was. CB. NV.

Disclaimer: I own nothing, not Gossip Girl, not any quotes/lyrics used.

Rating: PG-15

A/N – A special thanks to the ever lovely Tatiana for her BETA.

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"There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning."
Louis L'Amour

When Chuck knocked on her door and walked inside, they were all packed. He brought with him a few men who swiftly entered and took their luggage. He was dressed all in black with just his scarf to contrast the color. His hair was slicked back, and Blair thought it make his cheekbones look more prominent.

"It's cold in Europe," he told her, and she nodded, walking to her purse and placing some gloves and a thick coat on herself. She turned to her mother, who looked as composed as ever, dressed in regal evergreen with a matching coat, scarf, and gloves.

"Keep her close, Dorota," she instructed, and Dorota nodded.

Chuck extended his hand, and Blair slowly walked to him and took it, their gloves hands held tightly together as he began walking out.

"Things are ugly tonight, it's dangerous to be on the streets… My men have guns and will use them if necessary," he warned her, and she nodded, unconsciously getting closer to him as they descended to the ground floor.

She had seen fires lit from her window and what few people were left in New York out in the streets making a ruckus. The elevator ride went by quickly as Eleanor asked Jacob 100 questions.

"Mom…" Blair warned her. "No more, ok?"

Eleanor sent her a withering glare and stared at Chuck. "Keep her quiet."

Chuck smirked, and Blair glared at him.

"At least I have your mother's permission," he whispered to her in a voice so low that it sent chills down her spine.

"I-I don't mind, Ma'am," Jacob assured her, and Dorota stared at him.

When the doors opened, they were greeted by quite an escort, twelve men all in fatigues and with guns, waiting for them. Chuck nodded at them, and they formed a protective cocoon as they walked through the lobby.

Blair was going to question it, but the moment she looked out the glass doors, she realized what was going on.

New York was in chaos. Eleanor looked frightened and held on to Dorota with all her might.

"It's alright, Miss Eleanor. It's alright," Blair heard her say, and Blair held on just as tightly to Chuck, who looked bravely ahead as they made it closer and closer to the doors.

Once outside, the smell of smoke, fire and… blood filled Blair's nostrils, and it made her want to barf. Blair gagged, and Chuck quickly offered her the end of his scarf to place over her face. She looked up at him from behind his scarf, and he nodded. She nodded right back.

She was alright. And his scarf smelled like him. It reminded her of high school, of his arms around her, of his kisses and tenderness. It made her feel warm. It made her reminisce about a time when the world wasn't falling apart.

People spotted them the moment they exited the building and, for some reason, wanted to attack them.

"Rich mother fucker!"

"Anarchy!"

Chuck's arm went around her as they made their way down the street and to the waiting SUVs. The street before the hotel was blocked with overturned vehicles, people littering the streets, trashcans on fire… It felt surreal to Blair, who had never been a fan of apocalyptic films. It was a movie set. It was a movie set, she kept telling herself.

Once the cars were in sight, they hurried their pace, the men around them pushing off a few people that tried to reach in and grab them.

"Get in, Ms. Eleanor," Dorota urged her mother once the door was opened. Blair let out a cry when a random man got on the roof of the SUV with a bat in his hand and a Yankees cap on his head.

"Fuck your money!" He screamed, raising the bat and, before Blair knew it, Chuck had grabbed her face and turned it into his chest, and the only thing Blair heard was a gun shot. She muffled a cry into him as she held onto him, her body shaking with disbelief.

And then he was pushing her into the car and the door was closing behind her. Eleanor sat pinned between her and Dorota, and Chuck slid into the front passenger seat with one of his men behind the wheel.

Blair watched from her window as Jacob got into another limo with Kevin and some men, while the rest of the men held people at bay as the cars made it through the crowd and chaos.

Her mother was shaking next to her, and Blair held onto her tightly.

"It's ok, Mom. It's ok. We're safe – we're going to London."

"I love London," her mother murmured.

Chuck glanced at her, and she nodded in thanks. Because if it weren't for him, she would be stuck in this mess and would've definitely not survived, despite all the years of her skin thickening.

It was almost an hour before they made it to the private airport, where Chuck's plane was waiting along with two other smaller planes that looked to have guns on them.

Blair took a sharp breath. Fighter planes.

"What business is the Gilbert family in exactly?" She asked Chuck.

He looked back at her. "Ever heard of Lockheed Martin?"

Blair's eyes widened slightly, and she nodded, swallowing. Once the car stopped, Chuck quickly slid out and the door was opened by a man. She got out and brought her mother with her as Dorota went around.

They walked close together to the plane and went up the stairs, despite having to convince Eleanor that it was safe. Blair let out a sigh of relief once her mother was safely buckled in with Dorota next to her. Chuck came up behind her.

"Don't be too relieved… We still have seven hours to anticipate," he said quietly to her, and she nodded.

"What are the chances that we'll get attacked?" She asked him, walking away to the back of the plane so that her mother wouldn't hear.

She watched him as his jaw twitched. "We have a chance that they're too distracted by the commencement of the war to notice us… But I can't guarantee it."

She felt an overwhelming gratitude towards him at that moment. He had saved her and her family. With nothing for payment, nothing in return. Sure, she was marrying him once they got to Scotland, but he hadn't demanded it of her.

Recently, she didn't know what she was feeling towards him. And honestly – with this craziness around her – she didn't want to think about it. She couldn't.

"Thank you," she said, and her eyes locked with his.

Chuck felt all of his insides turn to mushy goo, and he didn't know how to respond, so he nodded tersely and pointed to a reclining chair she should take. She blinked, looking at him and then to the chair.

"Ok," she whispered and brushed past him.

Oh, he was in too deep. WAY too deep. He watched as she sat down, removing her coat and handing it to the stewardess. He walked to the front of the plane, where Kevin was just entering.

"My pilots have their instructions, Bass," he announced, and Chuck saw his eyes instantly zoom in on Blair's resting form.

"She must be exhausted," he commented, fully intent on going over and talking to her.

Chuck, of course, wasn't going to let him. "She's tired." And he pressed a hand to the man's chest to prevent him going further into the plane.

Kevin stopped and stared at Chuck.

"I'm on to you, Bass," he whispered.

Oh… Now he was talking. Chuck was feeling all bad for Golden Boy because he knew he wouldn't be able to handle him if his claws came out, but Golden Boy had basically opened the flood gates, and Chuck had no problem letting him know exactly who Chuck Bass was.

"Do tell," Chuck smirked.

"You're using that poor girl, using her and taking advantage of her," he snapped.

"Am I?" Chuck hissed.

"You probably promised her all this wealth if she agreed to marry you," Kevin continued, and Chuck seethed, the goo recently stuck on his stomach now feeling poisonous.

"And you figure this… How?"

Kevin smirked at him. "Look at her… She's not in love with you."

This did something awful to Chuck's stomach. It felt like the man had sucker punched him and had brought him back to reality once more. Of course Chuck would feel that he was falling for her. Calling her his fiancée, her little hands all over him, depending on him – it was all an illusion. He was fooling himself; he didn't love her. It was an illusion.

She cared for him – that was all. Just like he cared for her. They had been friends for so long that those feelings could've easily been misrepresented. They'd had sex, a long time ago, and a long time ago he had had considered his feelings love. Not now. He'd just had her back in his life for less than a week, so it was obviously nothing more than the need for the normalcy they knew back in high school.

In a way, he should thank Kevin for bringing him back to the reality of things; a Bass could easily forget.

Kevin seemed to be considering his silence and staring at his inner machinations.

"I apologize, Bass – I've overstepped my boundaries," he said quietly.

Chuck just stared at him, still lost in his own thoughts, Kevin's words still reverberating in his head. Then Kevin did something he didn't expect.

"I'll… leave you to it, then. Good luck." And he walked out of the plane, his shoulders sagged. Chuck gaped at the man, and then Jacob scurried to him.

"Sir?" He asked in a low voice.

"Are we ready for take off?" Chuck responded in a low, monotone voice.

"Y-yes," Jacob replied.

"Good. Get me some scotch," he ordered plainly and walked to the back of the plane, never looking at Blair, whose dark eyes were studying him. He walked all the way back and took a seat by himself. He shrugged off his coat and reclined back on the seat, intent on sleeping.

He felt the seat next to him get occupied, and he instantly knew it was Blair because it smelled like her.

"Chuck?" Her voice was low and soft.

She was staring at this unmoving form, eyes closed, lashes brushing against his prominent cheekbones, slight 5 o'clock stubble, and perfectly shaped lips. If he were a woman, he would be stunning. As a man, he was intoxicating.

He slowly opened his eyes, and they were a soft caramel color that they always turned to when he was relaxed and at ease. The last time she saw them this color, they were kissing and he was smiling down at her. They had made her forget the world. How strange that such an act that produced such a sensation could now cause quite the opposite. It made her realize even more accurately their position, their situation.

He needed a wife. He needed an image to save his precious company. She needed protection and money. The soft caramel color just served to remind her, to reinstall in her the reality of them.

No more fairytales, Blair. No more.

"Go to sleep, Blair… Once we're over the red zone, you'll be wide awake," he said softly.

She opened her mouth to respond, but decided against it. She quickly looked down and studied her pale hands. She nodded and walked away, settling herself on the other side of his plane and falling into a fitful sleep.

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The Red Zone. She gulped as she looked out the window. She'd gotten exactly forty-three minutes of sleep before her thoughts and dreams jolted her awake. And she'd had terrible nightmares. Horrible ones, ones that made her wake nearly in tears, and Chuck staring at her from his side of the plane.

She'd dreamt she'd been in a birthing table, giving birth to a baby, and the war had started and the nurses and doctors had abandoned her. She's gotten up and picked up her baby and began running the streets of New York with it in her hands. There was chaos around her and when the baby had stopped crying, she'd looked down to find the baby a decomposed carcass. She hadn't mentioned the dream to him, of course, just averted her eyes.

The Red Zone was on fire, she had decided. Below them, the sea would burst momentarily with bright orange and red.

"They're not firing at us," he said softly, seeing her anxiety.

Her mother and Dorota were fast asleep, along with Jacob, who apparently snored.

She looked at him and sighed. "Then at who?"

"At each other," he replied and looked out the window.

They were quiet for a moment, both staring at the world below them.

"The whole world is on fire," she whispered quietly, and he didn't take his eyes off her then. She didn't know why, but it made her feel better. That fact was not lost on her, but she decided to bury it.

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When the plane finally landed, she realied she had been tense the entire ride. Her mother, thank goodness, had slept nearly the entire way, waking only for the bathroom and hot cocoa. Blair, on the other hand, had been on pins and needles while they flew over the dangerous waters.

"Blair, those are the colors I plan to incorporate in my fall line," Eleanor had informed her as she studied the explosions of the ships below.

Chuck had looked at her then. She hated his look because she saw something akin to pity in his eyes, and she couldn't handle pity at this moment.

She hadn't looked his way until the plane finally landed.

It looked cold and rainy outside and, in the darkness, Blair could hardly make out the London she remembered.

Blair and Dorota got Eleanor warm and water-proof, and Blair slid into her own coat and gloves.

"Sir, we have press," Jacob came and informed Chuck. Chuck cursed quietly and finally looked at Blair.

"Reporters?" Blair asked, confused.

Chuck nodded. "London is not as bad off as New York, and no bombings here… The press is still very much alive and a bit in love with me."

Blair's heart drummed slightly. "What does that mean?"

"It means news of my engagement is public," Chuck spat out.

Blair nodded; she knew what she had to do. Without hesitation, she took his arm as he led her out of the plane. The moment they made it to the entrance, the flashes went off. It had been some years since Blair had been photographed, and she was slightly blinded by the cameras.

Chuck helped her down the plane as she avoided looking at the cameras.

"Mr. Bass, is it true about the news of your engagement?"

"Miss Waldorf, how long have you known Mr. Bass?"

"No comment, people," Jacob snapped at them, walking in front of Chuck. Three large bodyguards came forth and pushed the reporters away.

"Will it be a summer wedding?"

"Can we see the ring?"

"Give us a smile, Miss Waldorf."

"C'mon," Chuck murmured to her, pulling her with him as they made it into a building close to the plane. Blair instantly turned towards her mother once the door had closed behind them and the flashes had stopped. Her mother looked delighted and refreshed.

"I do hope I waxed," she commented, and Blair heard Chuck chuckle.

Blair looked at Chuck. "What now?"

"This way, please," Jacob instructed them, and they followed the man through some semi-abandoned corridors until they reached a door. Blair stopped in her tracks, staring at the object in front of them.

It was a carriage. Like a horse-drawn carriage. It was black and large and, from what Blair could see, it had green velvet seats.

"It's a short ride to the docks," Jacob told them, and Blair stared at Chuck.

"There are no cars here," he explained.

"Oh," was all that Blair managed to say because she was truly speechless. They helped her mother and Dorota get in the carriage, and Chuck helped her up, sliding in easily behind her.

Then the carriage was moving.

"How many horses do you own?" She asked, deciding to make conversation with Chuck.

Jacob let out a laugh, and Chuck smiled.

"Quite a few," he replied.

Blair looked between the two and continued to feel even more suspicious about Scotland.

Jacob was true to his word: the ride to the docks took less than 30 minutes and, before she knew it, they had halted. Jacob slid out with Chuck close behind. Blair took a breath and took Chuck's offered hand, sliding out herself. It must've been around 6am and the docks looked deserted, but there it was. The waiting boat.

Blair stopped and stared at the massive item. It was a sail boat. An old sailboat. Like from films and stories of one-legged sailors and giant whales.

"There's no gasoline and coal attracts attention, so this is what we get to use," Chuck explained, nodding at the boat.

Curious eyes started emerging from the ship, staring at Blair and her family.

"Sir!" A large man cried out in a jolly voice as he walked out of the ship.

"Captain Seer," Chuck nodded and greeted the man with a sturdy handshake.

Captain Seer looked over Blair and her fine clothes.

"Captain, this is my fiancée, Miss Waldorf, and her family. I expect your men will be on their best behavior with the ladies on board?" Chuck was nice about it, but Blair knew it was a fair warning.

The Captain let out a laugh of amusement. "Getting married, old chap?"

Chuck gave the man a tight smile.

"Aye, we can be couth."

Chuck nodded and offered his hand to Blair as he walked to the ship, and she took it quickly, holding onto him as the men stared at her.

"When was the last time they saw a woman?" She whispered to him.

Chuck looked down at her. "They've seen women. But you're something else."

And that right there took Blair's breath away. He was classifying her as something else – something special. She couldn't control – even if she wanted to – the full blown-out smile that was now plastered on her face.

And for some off reason, he returned it. His eyes were still warm caramel.

"Ok, you two love birds, come along," Captain Seer called, laughing heartedly. "The ladies can have my quarters… It'll be a few hours, ma'am, before we get there."

"Get where?" Blair asked, snapping out of the Chuck-trance that she had apparently fallen under.

"Oh, we don't say," he replied.

She turned to Chuck, and he smiled. "You'll see."

As far as Captain's quarters went… This one was awful. She didn't want to imagine the rest. She felt she was on the set of Pirates of the Caribbean and, any moment now, Captain Jack Sparrow would waltz in.

"I don't like, Miss. Blair," Dorota told her once she had dusted the beds to a suitable condition.

"It's only a few hours, Dorota – then we'll be in Chuck's home," Blair appeased her.

Dorota huffed because she didn't like how far this was taking Blair from her home.

Once she was sure her mother and Dorota were settled in, she shed her coat and gloves and ventured outside the boat. This got the men's instant attention.

"Morning, Miss."

"Missus."

She nodded to them and walked ahead in search of Chuck.

She found the Captain.

"Miss Waldorf. I take my quarters were to your liking," the large man greeted her.

"Yes, thank you, Captain." She nodded, finding it within her scared self to give him a smile.

"Ever been to Scotland, ma'am?" He inquired.

"No," she answered, looking out into the ocean. "My family and I visited London many times, though."

"Of course." He nodded and lit his pipe. "Looking for the master?"

Blair tried not to smile and nodded.

"Oh… He's at his favorite spot," The man smirked and pointed towards the front of the ship. Blair nodded in thanks and went out in search of Chuck, but ran into Jacob, who looked like he had turned a dangerous shade of green.

"Dorota has a remedy for that," she offered, trying to stay out of his swaying way.

Jacob simply nodded and pushed past her before he was sick over the side of the rail. Blair grimaced and continued her trek to the front. And that's where she found him. She stared up at him.

He had shed his coat, jacket and scarf. He was now in his navy blue trousers and a white shirt. The sleeves had been rolled up and his collar lay open as he stood with one hand in his pocket and the other holding on to the rail. One foot was propped on a box and the wind had thrown his hair, making it whip wildly in the wind.

She thought he looked stunning. Like a character out of a romance novel. His features were set as he looked towards the rising sun. The boat was now speeding full ahead, flowing with the gusts. Despite the chill around them, the view was majestic.

He felt her behind him and turned his head to look down at her.

"The captain said this was your favorite spot," she said, nodding.

He smirked softly. "I'm king of the world here."

She laughed, remembering how her nine year old self made Chuck and Nate watch Titanic with her and Serena as the girls sobbed.

He let go of the rail and reached out, grabbing her hand and pulling her up. She let out a yelp but, before she knew it, he had placed her before the rail and before the immense ocean. His body was behind hers as he pinned her there. His chest fit perfectly on her back and his hands went on either side of hers, reaching down to her fingers.

Her heart sped up, because what girl wasn't in love with this moment?

Once their fingers were intertwined he extended their hands, and she felt like she was flying. She let out a laugh as the sheet force of the wind surrounded them, and it was magical once more.

Thoughts of the war, of New York, were so very far from her mind that she could fool herself and convince herself that he was in love with her, and she was equally in love with him. This was the moment they realized their love.

She felt his head pressed against her ear as she let herself relax into his chest.

"You see?" He asked quietly. "Here… Nothing can touch you."

And she realized then and there why he was in love with this epic life of his that he had created.

There was no darkness here, the sun shed its golden light on everything, and it felt like it was slowly cleaning her soul and repairing all the damage done over the years. She turned her head to look at him, and he slowly met her eyes.

Their eyes remained locked, and she felt the wind knocked out of her lungs.

Here she was. Blair Waldorf, Upper East Side princess, in the arms of the man she had lost her virginity to. The man who had saved her… And who would be her husband.

Despite her best efforts, despite the reverberating words of realism her mind threw at her, despite her circumstance, she couldn't help but feel… That she was slowly and surely… Falling helplessly under his charm.

"Is this where you ran away to?" She whispered, still entranced.

And that did something that broke the spell, because he instantly stiffened and pulled back. The harsh reality of the loss of heat that his body had offered cruelly jolted her. She felt naked and exposed and in way over her head.

She couldn't control it. She was entirely at his mercy, entirely at his will. And that, above all, scared her most of all.

He said not a word, simply backed away and down the small steps.

She was left breathing hard, confused and utterly ashamed of herself. So she scurried to her quarters, ignoring the looks the men gave her along the way.

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The journey by ship took most of the day, and Blair decided to stay in her quarters with her mother and Dorota for most of it. The temperature was dropping, and Jacob had explained that they were headed north.

Eleanor, for her part, continued sketching in her pad and refusing to eat, which worried Blair to no end.

"Is there a doctor nearby Chuck's home?" She asked Jacob, and he nodded.

"For now…" he replied.

"What does that mean?" She asked, confused.

"With the war… There's a good chance they'll draft him," Jacob said in all seriousness.

"What do you mean, 'draft him?'"

"Well… Medical personnel and young men under the age of thirty will be the first drafted."

She opened her mouth. "Chuck's under thirty."

Jacob looked solemn and slowly nodded.

"They wouldn't draft him, would they?"

Jacob cleaned his glasses and didn't meet her eyes. "He's got sufficient pull to avoid it for awhile... But who knows how long the war will last?"

She didn't know why, but this thought made her mouth dry and sour.

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A soft knock woke her from her restless nap some hours later. The sun was setting and she hated the feeling the night brought. Like they were the only people in the world left.

Dorota answered the door and turned to Blair. Chuck stepped in, and Blair quickly sat up, rubbing her cheek.

"We're here," he announced, nodding and walking out.

Blair scampered up, slipping her thick coat on once more. She and Dorota quickly prepared Eleanor. Their luggage was outside already when they stepped out of the captain's quarters.

The sun had just set, so there was a soft glow around them – just enough for her to see exactly where they were.

In the middle of nowhere.

"Where are we?" She asked out loud.

"The highlands." Captain Seer came up next to her.

"But there's nothing here!" She cried. "Where's Chuck?"

The Captain nodded to the other side of the boat. She found Chuck speaking to a man.

"Ride on ahead, instruct them to prepare some room for us," he told a small short man, who quickly went down a ladder on the side of the ship to a smaller boat. Blair watched as he rowed his way to what looked like a private dock with torches lit.

"Chuck, where the hell are we?" She demanded, staring at the dock they were approaching.

Chuck looked her over. "Scotland."

"This is a mountain range," she replied.

"Well… I told you it was safe," he replied easily.

"It's in the middle of nowhere!" She looked around. Not one house, not one building… Just some men by a private dock and… More carriages.

"We're not there yet," he explained and walked past her, giving the men instructions as the ship approached the docks.

The three women huddled together, shivering in the cold as the men unloaded the cargo, which was way more than Blair had thought was coming with them.

"Jacob, what is all this?" She asked him as the men continued the unloading.

"Supplies, ma'am," he replied and continued giving orders. Dorota huffed.

Once the boxes were off the ship, Chuck walked to them. "C'mon."

They slowly followed him off the boat and to the waiting docks. They made their way to waiting carriages, and Chuck helped her mother and Dorota into one, and then turned to her and offered his hand into another one. She nodded and stepped up as he slid next to her.

"How long?" She asked him.

His features were shadowed. "We should be there by dawn."

She gaped at him. "Chuck. Exactly where do you live?"

He smirked at her. "Don't you trust me, Blair?"

All this time she had thought something was seriously wrong with Scotland, but she was slowly seeing that Chuck had converted this into some sort of secluded safe zone for himself… And now for her and her family.

"Yes," she finally replied. "I do."

"Good, get some sleep," he whispered and leaned back on the velvet seat, intent on sleeping.

She studied his profile in the darkness and shrugged, deciding she was entirely too tired to question it anymore.

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To be continued