Chapter 10 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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"Ah, when to the heart of man
Was it ever less than a treason
To go with the drift of things,
To yield with a grace to reason,
And bow and accept the end
Of a love or a season?"
Robert Frost

Once dinner was finished and their plates were taken away, Chuck stood and walked towards her.

"C'mon, I'll give you a tour – it's only proper, since this is now your home," He offered gallantly, and she nodded, quickly standing.

She followed him for a few feet when he stopped, turning sharply on his shoes – making a squeaky noise on the polished wood floor. He raised his arms and looked around.

"This is the dining room," He announced in all seriousness, and she laughed.

"Yes, M'lord."

He glared at her.

She followed him out and into a lavish, beautiful sitting area. He watched her as she walked in, took in the warm fire, the upholstered chairs, the wet bar, the paintings, the chessboard, and the wall filled with books.

She walked over to the books and touched their spines, running her fingers lightly over the edges.

"It's quite a collection, Charles," she smiled at him coyly over her shoulder, and he smirked, going to pour himself a brandy.

"Drink?" He offered.

"Port," she requested, and he smiled, nodding. He pulled out his favorite and served her, handing over the drink when he was done.

She nodded, taking the drink from him.

"You don't need to get me drunk, Chuck – I'm still marrying you," she teased him, walking away and swaying her hips.

He became intoxicated by those hips, following them around the room as she touched the furniture and appraised the curtains. He could get used to this.

"Tomorrow, I will show you the town," he continued, twirling the brandy in his glass.

"Hummm…" she murmured. "I don't like these curtains."

He shrugged. "Change them."

She turned to look at him. "Are you serious?"

He walked to her and touched the curtains himself. "It'll be a few months before you'll be able to leave Wallace… My suggestion is that you change it to whatever makes you happy."

She studied his face by the glow of the fire.

Chuck Bass was well known for having the face of a delicious devil. Like a lurking Casanova he had deflowered more Upper East Side debutantes than Carter Baizen and Luke Antoine Picard combined. Perhaps it was the fact that he was a billionaire's son, or his low voice, or perhaps it was the way he looked intensely at a woman and made her the center of his universe for that moment.

Like he was doing now.

Blair had to remind herself in the past that he was only obsessed with her because she never truly wanted him back. What was the excuse now?

He was marrying her, taking care of her, handing her good port, and making her feel seventeen once more under his smoldering eyes.

"So I have artistic liberties?" She asked, walking away from his close proximity.

He nodded, taking a sip from his drink and never taking his eyes off her. She averted her gaze.

"So what do we call this room?" She asked him, trying to get away from the fire. It was getting impossibly hot in there.

"What would you name it?" He asked, gesturing around.

"Well…" She considered this. "It's part study, part retiring area… part library –"

"And it has fantastic views of the village in the morning sun," he put in, pointing to the closed windows.

"It's an eclectic mess… I'll call it… The room of possibilities," she smiled.

He studied her profile, her pert nose and rounded lips. God, she was a beauty.

Possibilities indeed.

He didn't know why he felt like a predator this night. Maybe it was because she was in his home, maybe it was the way she fit into the dress he had picked, maybe it was because her undivided attention was on him tonight. No one else.

"C'mon… I'll show you the gardens," he offered.

"At night?" She asked, confused.

"There's no better time to enjoy them," he purred, and she was drawn to the majestic picture he painted with his words.

She had images of mystical gardens only truly appreciated at midnight where magical flowers bloomed by the light of the moon. So she followed him as he pointed out different things in the house, encouraging her to look over the rooms, encouraging her to change what she liked.

The house continued in the same theme throughout and Blair, without letting him know, decided she wanted to change certain things. Put in a 'woman's touch' to add to what he had already created.

She felt someone following them and turned sharply to see bouncing blonde curls.

"Ruby?" She asked, and Chuck stopped talking, turning to look at the young girl peeking her head out.

"Ruby?" He asked, confused.

"I'm sorry, Lord Bass –"

Chuck sighed, and Blair smirked.

"It's quite alright. Aren't you supposed to be in bed?" Blair asked her, and as the young girl stepped out of the shadows, they saw she was already in her pajamas.

"I snuck out," she confessed.

Chuck looked amused.

"Are you going to the gardens?" She asked, eyes wide and curious.

"Yes, go to bed before your sister finds you," he commanded, and she looked crestfallen.

Blair looked at the girl. "Maybe another night, Ruby."

Ruby walked to Blair, her bare feet padding on the wooden floors. "You must be careful of the fairies, Miss Blair."

Chuck rolled his eyes, and Blair smiled.

"Fairies?" She asked.

"Yes, Mr. Grant says Scottish fairies are tricky, and when they see two lovers abound, they play games with them; making them feel things they shouldn't." Ruby's eyes were wide with imagination.

"Mr. Grant talks too much," Chuck muttered.

"Oh, but it's true!" Ruby insisted, staring only at Blair. "Sometimes at night, and most especially when the moon is full, you can hear them dancing outside. So, you see, you must be careful. Once they find you – they can cast a spell that make you be in love for the rest of your life."

Blair smiled at her and turned to Chuck. "Do not worry, Ruby. I'm sure Lord Bass will protect me."

Chuck swallowed the rest of his brandy, attempting not to roll his eyes again.

"Here!" Ruby pulled a handful of beans from the pocket of her flower pajama bottoms.

Blair laughed.

"Mr. Grant says these will protect you," Ruby told her as Blair tried to keep them all in her hands.

"Beans." Chuck looked at Blair's hands.

"Magic beans," Blair smirked at him.

"Ahh." Chuck arched a brow. "Off with you. Go to bed."

Ruby looked at them once more, and then ran off the other direction. Blair stared after her.

"How did Ruby come to be here?" She asked him as they made their way outside.

"Her sister is here… Her mother was my father's chef, so they were one of the first ones that came here…" he explained, walking down the steps and into the gardens.

"Where are her mother and father?" She asked him.

Chuck's face darkened. "Polly died back in New York, and her father… He's never come back…He volunteered for money, and he's been MIA since. I've tried various times to find him but failed."

Blair gulped.

"She doesn't remember them much, and she's the youngest person who lives in the house, so I let her run around and do odd things here and there," he continued. "Her sister does my tailoring."

Blair paused and looked out into the gardens, the sight stealing her breath away.

"Oh, Chuck…" she whispered.

He smiled.

First of all, the gardens were encased in a giant greenhouse. Throughout the paths and the fountains, there were Chinese lanterns, lighting the way into hidden spots and highlighting majestic and mysterious flowers. There were also trees, their hanging leaves making pockets that lent shade to stone benches with entangled lovers carved out of the stone.

There were also birds. She heard their fluttering wings and they settled in for the night.

There were three ponds with giant water lilies in them, and in each pond stood roman-like statues.

Chuck pointed to the first one. "Aphrodite… Goddess of love and beauty."

Blair nodded and smiled as they studied the statue.

"She reminds me of Serena…" Chuck said softly. "All happiness and hair."

Blair frowned.

"Athena… Warrior goddess… I don't know who she reminds me of yet… Perhaps my mother. I'd like to think she was a warrior," he said softly, and Blair was quiet, studying his profile.

He'd never really truly opened up about his mother. Even when they were children.

His mother was a topic people knew little of. They all knew she had died, and that Chuck had been raised by his father… Blair had spied a picture of her once or twice in Chuck's room. That had been it.

"And of course… Hera," Chuck smiled at Blair. "Queen of the Gods."

Blair stared up at the statue and furrowed her brows.

"She…"

"When they asked me how she should look, I said she should be like you," he said plainly.

Blair gaped at him. "You had a statue made out of me? To resemble the meanest of the goddesses?"

He chuckled and took a seat on a stone bench that faced the statue.

"She wasn't mean. She did what she had to do. She was swift and powerful, and very protective of her husband who she loved despite all his imperfections," he continued.

And now she wasn't sure who they were talking about. So she sat next to him on the bench with the lovers carved on the sides.

"He cheated on her every chance he got," Blair smirked.

Chuck shrugged. "He was a fool."

He was quiet, studying the statue that stood a good six feet tall in a toga, with one breast exposed and a crown on her head. Her hair was long, waves cascading down her back. Her eyes were open, and she had a soft smile on her lips. Bow-shaped lips. She was staring right at them. At the bench.

It was eerie, she wasn't going to lie.

"Do you come here often?" She finally asked, trying to access the situation.

He glanced at her. "When I'm drunk. Yes."

They sat in silence for a while, her playing with Ruby's beans in her hand, Chuck staring out into his garden.

"Why did you do all this, Chuck?" She asked him quietly.

"All what?"

"All this, this house, his land, these people… I mean, the boy I remember didn't care about anyone but himself… He manipulated, lied, blackmailed –"

"I was a boy –"

He stood up and began to pace, and Blair watched him.

"Things are different –"

"How did they change? When did they change?"

"Some time ago –"

"Why wont you speak about things?" She demanded.

""Why won't you?" He snapped back.

"You haven't asked me anything!" She answered.

"Did you love that man? The man you were engaged to?" He demanded, and she met his eyes straight and true.

"I thought I did," she explained. "He was so… So different. The complete opposite of –"

"Nathaniel," Chuck spat bitterly.

She looked up at him. "… You."

She didn't know why she said that. Was she crazy? Chuck would use all he could against her! What was she thinking? She quickly stood up, intent of running back into the house, hiding under her silk covers and never coming out… Maybe until the wedding.

But he had grabbed her hand and was pulling her to him. And she was staring at him, and had she always drowned in his eyes? Because she couldn't quite remember a moment in her life that she hadn't wanted this more. She was short of breath, and she felt the soft caress of his breath on her lips.

"Why didn't you want it to be me?" He asked her, voice low and controlled as his eyes, now turning onyx, bore into her.

She met his eyes and something inside of her exploded, like she had been hit by something.

"Because I can never tell what you're going to do next..."

And he didn't wait for her to finish, he went in to grab those ruby lips that had been tempting him for over a week. But before their mouths met in a soft happy sigh, her body relaxed completely and all the beans fell from her hand.

They jumped back, startled, as the beans pooled around their feet.

Hera, goddess of marriage, watched them – a soft smirk on her face.

Blair stared down at the pinto beans all around them. They looked at one another.

"Chuck Bass… You simply must do something about the fairy infestation you have going on in this garden," Blair said softly.

"Perhaps it's best this way," he treaded carefully. "We shouldn't forget why we're here."

Blair paused and slowly looked him over. "And why are we here?"

"We agreed – we agreed in New York that this was a business proposal," he said sternly. "I hope that magical voyages and stories of fairy princesses haven't clouded your vision."

He took a sharp breath that made her reel back at his harsh words, and suddenly she saw them. At seventeen.

I don't want you anymore.

Rode hard and put away wet.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

"Don't misunderstand who I am Blair. I'm still very much that man – that man you so despised, that man that you tried very much to find the opposite to love," he hissed.

"Oh, you've made that clear, Charles Bass," she snapped.

He glared.

"What does that mean?" He argued.

"You – with your home in the mountains, away from civilization, a crowned prince in your own right only to cement this image you so enjoy of yourself deeper into your soul. But your soul continues to reject it, because that's not who you are anymore and perhaps the one that can't handle that here is you. And only you," she said without taking a breath, her chest was heaving and her hands were trembling, and she realized she had one bean left in her fingers. So she shoved it at him.

He grabbed it as she pressed it there, by his heart.

"You're so lost in your own illusions of this horrible man you think you are that you can't see you've become something better."

"Who's the illusionist now, eh, Blair?" He snapped, angry at her and perhaps even furious with the validity of her words.

"You – just you and your magic wand!" She pulled her hand back, leaving the bean in his palm.

"What upsets you more? The fact that I may not be this great man that fits with this fantasy world, or that you actually liked the possibility of that man?" He cried.

"We can stand here all night and make this about me, but the fact still remains that I changed because I didn't have anything left. You changed out of your own volition," she told him. "And what kills you, what really kills you is not that I'm here, or that I'm marrying you for some low-class reason. No. That's not what kills you. What kills you is that bag you carry around your shoulders, and that's a bag full of regrets. You regret leaving New York, you regret not fighting it out, you regret your time in Japan, you regret your father, you regret me, and because you weren't man enough to change that, you created this and you live in it. Day after day –"

"Shut up!"

"Week after week, year after year –"

"I said shut up!"

"Just hiding – unable to face what you left behind –"

"Blair –"

"While your best friend didn't have food to eat, while Serena worked in some corn field you own –"

"Stop it!"

"While you left me without so much as a goodbye!"

She was crying. God dammit, she was crying. She was outright sobbing, and he was looking at her with pale, eerie hatred.

"I hate you," he said in a low and dangerous voice.

She looked at him with pity.

"You don't hate me, Bass. You hate yourself. You hate what you've become," she turned to go, but slipped on the beans. His arms quickly reached out to steady her, but she pushed him off, stalking into the house.

She didn't know how she made it, she couldn't even see in the darkness. But, somehow, she made it, asking some of the staff the way to her room as they looked at her with bewildered astonishment.

And once her door was closed behind her she let herself cry. Really cry. Because her heart, she felt, had broken.

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He did stand there, in the mists of fallen magical beans and a staring Hera, who now looked displeased with him also.

So… All that he liked to hear about himself she had confirmed.

He was a bad man. An angry man. A man who destroyed his stepmother because he had a wounded ego. A man who left the one woman he thought he loved behind and drunk himself stupid when he received news she had gone back to Nate. A man who knew of the economic collapse and knew his old friends must not be faring so very well, but continued hiding out in his castle.

He had told himself day in and day out he was a bad man. He was neither Prince nor Duke. A profit-seeking man, a monopolist. Soulless merchant of the night. He liked all these titles; he'd engraved them on his skin.

But the moment those accusations came from her lips, they had burned a hole in him so very deep and painful that he felt he would never again deserve sunlight. He would never deserve her.

He looked down at his hand.

The last magic bean. Her hopes, the hopes of a girl who wished that somehow she would be saved; that she would be loved.

Why wasn't it Nate who saved her? Where was her knight in shinning armor?

Things between them were so very clouded and convoluted that he couldn't go through with it. Go through with the marriage. Not like this.

He looked up at the house and saw her light still on. With steady feet he made his way towards the house, throwing one last look over at Hera, who seemed to nod in approval.

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She wiped her face free of makeup and stared at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were still puffy, and she knew they would still be like that in the morning light. Clara would be able to see that Miss Blair had cried herself a bucket of tears.

She cursed and started brushing her hair, letting the dark curls bounce behind her.

27… 54…85….

KNOCK

She froze, because the knock didn't come from the door to her room, but from the connecting door. Her stomach felt heavy and ominous. She slowly stood, wrapping herself in the sheer robe Chuck had gotten her. The same Chuck that now beckoned her.

She stood before the door and placed her small hand over the mahogany fortress that protected her from the invader.

"Yes?" She asked.

Chuck, on his side, was leaning his forehead against the wood, his own hand pressed against the door.

A mirror of hers.

"Peace treaty," he requested.

She took a sharp breath, pressing her forehead against the door, and took a moment to simply breathe. She didn't know how many more confrontations with him her emotions could handle on this very night.

"For a minute," she acceded.

And slowly, she pulled back and turned the knob. She opened it and lifted her head to look at him. His jacket and tie were gone. He stood in his loose white shirt and black pants. He looked like a gothic hero.

His eyes slowly found hers.

Obsidian. That was the color they were now. Carved from lava, after a volcano erupted, leaving behind coal-colored chunks. The debris and the aftermath.

So here they were. Two old childhood lovers, now adults, and now more lost than ever.

She swallowed.

He nodded and slowly entered her suite.

She slowly sat on the bed; the springs in the mattress became the only noise in the room as he paced slowly back and forth with his hands stuck in his pockets. His hair was in disarray, like he had shoved his hands in it over and over before daring to knock on her door.

"You've asked me several times about Japan," he began. "And I've avoided it."

She nodded, unsure as to where he was going.

"I lived there… For two years." He explained. "Mostly gambled, drank, had as many women as I could find… Until I met Martin."

She blinked at him, her hands clasped on her lap.

"Martin… Was my wife's half brother," he treaded carefully. "But I didn't meet her until much later." He took a seat on her vanity chair and stared at the floor. "Martin was very much like me… Just older. He had partied, gambled, womanized… Drunk more than his liver wanted to take. And we talked. We talked about all sorts of stupid things. Told him more than one ought to tell to a man."

Blair watched him, watched him half hidden in shadows.

"And then… I don't remember… That's how drunk and high I was… It was after Dad died and after I won my own personal battle with Lily… And I just… I wanted to forget." He swallowed. "Then one day, I opened my eyes and there she was. Her name was Ayaka, and she was… So different. The complete opposite of you…"

She stared at him, not knowing what to think or say.

"… She was sweet and loving and so pure…" he smiled slightly. "So I married her… We knew each other less than two days, and there we were, married… Spent a week. A week with my new bride… Forgetting everything."

He was silent for a while.

"And then the bombings came," she urged him.

"You know, if you would've asked me then if I loved her, I would've said yes," he said softly. "So we lived in his expensive apartment in the heart of Tokyo, I gave her everything her heart desired, and the moment I left her… I left her and met Martin for drinks… It happened."

Blair looked away because she could see it. Chuck thinking he finally found happiness, meeting a friend, a brother for drinks, and then it all drastically being taken away from him.

"She didn't have a chance," he whispered. "She didn't."

He swallowed and played with the watch on his wrist.

"Martin and I tried… Tried to get back in the building, but we couldn't. I almost died in that building… A beam was falling…" he gulped. "Martin saw it, and he… He pushed me away."

Images flashed behind his lids.

"No, Martin!"

Debris, dust and blood.

A hand, a hand under it all… He held on to the hand

"I tried to pull him out… But he was barely breathing…"

"My sister and I will see you in paradise, Charles. Find happiness, friend… Or it'll haunt you until your dying day."

"You're going to be fine; I'm getting you out of here!"

Young fool.

"You should tell her, you know. Your kryptonite. You should find her and tell her."

"And he was gone," Chuck blinked.

"Sir! Sir, you must leave!" And he found his savior. A thin, hay-haired man pulling him out of the building. "The building is collapsing, you must come!"

"I'm staying!"

"Don't you have anything worth living for?" The man demanded.

A flash of brown curls and red ribbons flew by his inner eye. Another pair of soft trusting blue eyes with a golden smile…

And he had let the man pull him out of the building.

"Call this number," he had told him. "Tell them I'm alive and require transportation."

"Who are you?" The man had asked him.

"I'm Chuck Bass," he replied.

The name meant nothing to the man.

"Do you rescue people for a living?"

"I-I'm an accountant, sir," he had replied. "But currently unemployed."

"What's your name?" Chuck asked him.

"J-jacob, sir," Jacob had replied. "Jacob Huntley from Arizona."

"Well, Jacob Huntley from Arizona – you're no longer unemployed."

Blair listened to his retelling in silence until he seemed to be out of words.

"Now Jacob makes sense," she whispered.

"Yeah, Jacob only makes sense when I say it like that," Chuck took a deep breath. "So I came here… It started getting populated, and I busied myself with everything and anything I could and continued making excuses to not return to New York."

Blair nodded. She supposed both of them knew a little bit of hell during their time apart.

"And I was fine with it… Until I come home, and a certain girl I knew came to write a story about me," he finished, and Blair's eyes went wide.

"You knew about the story?"

He nodded, and her heart thumped.

"Why didn't you say anything?" She demanded.

"Why didn't you?" He countered.

"I… I didn't know where to begin," she confessed, not meeting his eyes. "I couldn't face you after everything."

"Well… We both have our noble causes," he said dryly.

Blair smiled. "Yes, we're noble at heart."

"That's what matters," he nodded.

He took a breath and stood.

"Thank you… For letting me know some of it," she said, staring up at him.

He nodded and bit his lip. "Do you still ride?"

She blinked, confused. "Like horses?"

He tilted his head.

"Y-yes… You know I'm an equestrian."

"Blue ribbon," he smirked.

"I haven't ridden in years… since ninth grade," Blair confessed.

"It's like riding a bike. You don't forget," he assured.

"You mean now?" She asked.

"Tomorrow morning. Sunrise. Don't be late," he smirked and slowly walked to her. His hand reached out and softly touched the curls that were situated right on her left shoulder. The ghost of a contact nearly made her shiver.

"Let the charade begin," he whispered, and she watched as he pulled away and back down the hallway. The thick mahogany closed behind him.

The question was: where did the charade begin? Where did it end?

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To be continued