Chapter 12 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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"You with the dark burly hair and the breathtaking eyes,
your inquiring glance that leaves me undone.
Eyes that pierce and then withdraw like a blood-stained sword,
eyes with dagger lashes!
Zealots, you are mistaken - this is heaven."
Zebunisso

It took him four hours to finally find sleep. It took him a second to wake up.

He sat up startled, looking around wildly – trying to decipher where the scream was coming from. When he realized it was from Blair's room, he felt his entire stomach drop from under him and his palms get instantly sweaty. He bolted from the bed, struggling and cursing loudly as he got tangled in the sheets, tripping over them and falling on his face before scrambling up.

He yanked his door opened and strode to her end, finding it locked. He cried out and pushed at it with his shoulder until he thought he was dislocating it.

"Blair?" He yelled, slamming his fist repeatedly against the wood. "Blair, open the door!"

He heard her on the other side, scrambling out of her bed, yanking the door open. Before he knew it, or was able to register anything, the small brunette attacked him as she held onto him.

His arms went quickly around her, pulling her to him.

"It's ok," he whispered to her. He figured she had a horrible dream, so he wasn't going to complain about thinking she had been nearly killed because she smelled like she always smelled growing up, and that was a good thing. She must've found the perfume he left for her.

That's when he looked over her bed.

His heart froze.

Her lovely blue silk sheets were covered with… His eyes narrowed as he pulled Blair back to stare at her.

She even had chunks on her! His blood boiled.

Blair looked pale and obviously scared out of her mind, he quickly took the chunks off her as she stared wide-eyed at him.

"Chuck…" She licked her lips. "Did you sleep with Clara – have you ever?"

Was she out of her mind? He looked at her with a confused expression.

"What?" He blinked at her.

"Clara – the housekeeper here, did you sleep with her?" She demanded, no longer frightened but downright mad.

Chuck stared at her. She was clearly out of her mind!

"Who? Clara? The maid?" He blustered.

She stared at him. His face was full of confusion, worry, and apparently disgust with her most recent accusation. This brought her a soft relief she wasn't expecting.

"I'll take that as a no." She walked away from him, pacing in her room. She looked tiny in her long white gown, the brown curls around her face in complete disarray, but she'd never looked more beautiful to him.

Shit. This was bad. He was falling like a giant stone to the bottom of the ocean. The Blair Ocean. Her dress… He went to her bed and picked up the chunks. It ranged from being ripped with formidable anger to being chopped up with scissors.

"She did this – she did it!" She cried hysterically.

Chuck looked at her. "Clara? You think Clara did this?"

She was still shaking, but now he wasn't sure if it was in anger or fright.

"Blair –"

"No!" She cried, stomping her small foot. "She's a crazy psycho bitch who nearly killed me and Ruby with the damn horse, basically told me I was nothing, lived in my room while you were away, and now has cut up my Badgley Mischka because she has some weird fascination with you!"

Chuck blinked at her because he swore he had just witnessed a Waldorf meltdown. He didn't know if he felt scared or honored.

"Ok, Blair," Chuck said gently, because he was pretty sure she was five seconds from exploding once more. Perhaps all over him. "Listen to me… Clara's a child. I found her when she was fifteen and brought her here – she's been here ever since."

"Chuck, she's most certainly not fifteen!" Blair spat.

"That was a couple of years ago, yes," he nodded.

"And she's seen you all this time as this Prince Charming that has rescued her and brought her to this fairytale place were you will one day, after being close and connecting, fall madly in love with her!"

And then she stopped because just then – right at that moment – she didn't know if she was Clara, if Clara was her – who the hell she was talking about. The lace all over her was obviously making her as crazy and delusional as Clara. She took a sharp breath and held her hands to her mouth.

Oh, my God!

She was hoping Chuck would fall in love her. With her, Blair Waldorf. She didn't want this ridiculous wedding, this fake marriage – she wanting something real, she wanted him to look her at her with the pure adoration he had back in high school. She was desperate for it. She'd wanted it for years and years, and she had completely fallen apart without it!

She couldn't breathe. She just couldn't. She needed to faint. She could use with a good fainting spell. Perhaps she would land in his arms, and he would sweep her up and carry her, deposit her in bed and kiss her and touch her –

OHHHHH NOOOO!!

Her brain was exploding and giving her a severe headache! She just missed having a man, that was all – and Chuck had suddenly turned into this perfect man that she couldn't have imagined him more perfectly perfect with all of his imperfections!

Chuck saw her panic and utter breakdown coming on, and he quickly went to her and grab bed her upper arms. Perhaps he shouldn't have been so very sudden because she nearly jumped out of her skin, staring at him with those wide brown eyes that had this odd effect on his stomach.

Kryptonite.

Mother fuck –

Even from the grave Martin teased him.

"Ok, listen," he whispered. "I will talk to her. I will."

He assured her and, with her eyes still wide, she nodded.

And then he did something that he hadn't planned on. He leaned in and kissed her forehead. Softly.

The spot… The very spot were his lips had brushed against her skin exploded into her entire body, running fast until it reached the tips of her toes.

Oh… She was so sexually deprived.

It had been almost three years since she'd had any.

All this mess and economic crisis had really kept her occupied. And she was incredibly horny, and he looked incredibly good, and suddenly all Blair could think of was their wedding night. She needed it now.

Her inner eye had visions of him throwing her against a wall and pulling her up, entering her as his tongue raked its way up and down her neck with his hands firmly cupping her ass… Oh, shit. She was becoming a mess. A complete and total, uncontrollable mess.

"O-ok." Was her only response as he smiled tightly and walked out of the room.

She stared at his retreating back and had to physically hold her tongue from crying out that he take her then and there.

How many more days until Sunday? Shit! Apparently dress-cut warnings turn her on.

No… What turned her on was how he pounded on the door, held her, and then believed her.

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He paced the small library, hands in his pockets and hair disheveled.

"Sir… Perhaps tea would be better," Jacob suggested. Chuck bristled.

"I hate tea," he snapped.

"Yes… I just thought –"

"I mean what kind of sick thing is this?" Chuck interrupted.

Jacob swallowed, nodding. The entire mess that had started as a relatively simple arranged marriage was turning into a zoo. He had seen them from the window as they rode in together the previous day. If he knew nothing – which was crap because he knew everything – he would've thought they were a young couple in love with one another.

Of course, since he knew plenty, he could conclude that his theories were correct.

They were a young couple in love.

That was the problem. Both were too stubborn to admit it and would dance around the subject and their feelings until it killed them both. He shook his head, and Chuck noticed.

"You have something to say to me, Jacob?" Chuck snapped.

"N-no, sir," Jacob replied, his hands clasped at his waist.

Chuck glowered at him, and Jacob sunk in his chair. Intent on dying.

That's when the door opened to reveal a fresh-off-a-horse Clara. Her boots were slightly muddy, her hair was in disarray, and she had a large stain on her white button down shirt. She was the furthest from class that he'd seen in a while.

"Good morning, sir – you wanted to see me?" She asked innocently.

Chuck was ready to rip her a new one, but when he saw her he remembered the young teen that he had found in Chicago some years ago… Dressed in filthy jeans and an even filthier shirt, crying by the wheel of his limo. He'd seen her as a kid then and he saw her as a kid now.

"Clara… Have a seat." He gestured to one of the upholstered chairs in his study.

Chuck Bass never really wanted a study. A study was more of his father's thing. Granted, he had broken into his father's study a few times and brought random girls in there. His way of saying 'screw you, Dad, for work being more important than me!'

He had been a child then. He was a man now. A man who was getting married in a couple of days.

He cleared his throat.

"I have to ask you something," he began, and Clara eyed Jacob coolly. Jacob snapped a look back at her, causing her to quickly back down. Chuck took a breath and considered his words.

"Clara… I don't think it's wise for you to continue working in the house anymore," he said as bluntly as he could.

Clara's pale-blue eyes were wide and frightened. "Was it something I did?" She asked quietly.

"Yes… No – I don't know. At this point, I don't care," he answered honestly, his hands still in his pockets. "But there's too much going around for me to deal with petty jealousy."

Clara reeled back at his tone, and Jacob had to hide a smile.

"So, as you know, Miss Waldorf will be mistress of his house – is mistress of this house, and my one goal in life is to make sure she's happy. Nothing else matters," he continued, and Jacob turned to stare at him because there was an underlying tone of sincerity in his voice. "In closing, I will move you to the stables where you will work with Mr. Carter."

Clara stood up. "I haven't done anything!"

Chuck eyed her coolly, never blinking. She instantly sat back down, because she had never seen him this angry.

"Any other questions?" He asked quietly.

Clara's eyes filled with tears. "Do you love her?" She responded.

Jacob's mouth dropped opened, and he looked at Chuck, who simply stared at her.

"Miss Parker – you're dismissed," Jacob stated, and she sent him a hateful glare before storming off, leaving her dirty footprints on the floor. Jacob stared at them and then turned to Chuck. "Do you really believe she's responsible for the dress?"

Chuck leaned back on his chair and crossed his hands under his chin.

"Perhaps… Perhaps not."

"If you have any doubt, why are you keeping her?" Jacob demanded.

"Because…" Chuck replied. "What would you have me do? Throw her out? The world is ugly right now, and people are looking for safe harbor. She knows where we are, she knows entirely too much. There's nothing like a scorned woman, Jacob. She would retaliate. She could destroy this – this entire way of living. Too many people depend on this village, and I have to protect them."

"What of Miss Waldorf?" Jacob asked.

"She's not angry at Blair… She's angry at me." Chuck explained.

"I still don't feel she is safe with Clara around," Jacob concluded.

"After the wedding… Change my room, and have her mother and Dorota move into mine. Remove the doors," he commanded.

Jacob studied him. "Sir… Wouldn't it be better to simply be in the same room with her?"

Chuck nearly choked. "What?"

Jacob sputtered. "I-I mean. If we really want to ensure that she's safe, the safest route would be… S-sleeping in the same room as Miss Waldorf or soon to be Mrs. Bass."

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When the knock startled them, Dorota quickly went and opened the door. She frowned when she found Jacob there.

"Miss Blair busy," she snapped at him.

"Good morning to you, too, Miss Dorota," Jacob's eyes narrowed as he tried to look around her for Blair.

"Go away, Mr. Jacob."

"Dorota, let him in," Blair said over her shoulder as she watched her mother draw, studying some flower samples in her hands.

Jacob smirked at Dorota, and the woman fumed, stomping away.

"Good morning Miss Waldorf," he nodded at Blair, who smiled slightly at him. She was composed now. Her hair was in an elegantly loose bun, and she had on a pleated navy dress that Jacob remembered Chuck approving of. She had a red rose pin on her hair and her lips matched it.

"What says your master?" She asked coyly.

"We have a seamstress in the house, Ruby's sister. She's quite talented, and Mr. Bass suggested she make you a new wedding dress," he announced.

Eleanor seemed to perk up at his, and she quickly flipped the pages of her drawing book.

"I think it's fine, Jacob – I have a lovely dress I can wear. It's nothing fancy –"

"Blair – you will wear this. I want to see this girl so we can discuss exactly how this needs to be executed and what fabric she thinks she can use on one of my designs," Eleanor declared, showing Blair the original dress she had mapped out for her.

Jacob looked impressed, and Dorota shook her head.

Blair took the drawing from her mother's hand and smiled slowly.

"Lets see what she can do, ok?" She replied, and her mother arched a brow at her and slipped on her glasses.

"I'm sure her work is mediocre," Eleanor bristled, and Jacob laughed, making Dorota glare at him.

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Blair took in the young girl with wild-colored hair and a couple of pens stuck in her hair haphazardly. She wore ripped jeans and a torn sweater that revealed a purple bra underneath. She was barefoot and had a tattoo of chains around her ankles. Her nails were painted neon green and had been scratched off with frightening cuticles. Her earrings were held in place with torn pencil erasers. Perched on her nose was a pair of white plastic glasses, and she wore glittery lip-gloss as she loudly smacked her gum. Overall – she was a mess. And to think Blair had complained about Vanessa.

"I'll have to make some changes," she explained, a clear New York accent seeping off her. "There's no way I can find material for a train like that." She pulled a pen from her hair. "And this beading? No can do – I don't know how many hands God gave you, but he only gave me two," she continued, drawing over the dress. "But overall, I think I can manage it. If, of course, Lord Fauntleroy doesn't pitch a fit over his tux. Someone has to control him."

Blair smiled, holding back from rolling on the floor and laughing.

"I will control him," she volunteered.

He girl looked her over her glasses. "You do that, honey."

"I'm sorry – what exactly are your credentials?" Eleanor demanded, and Blair sighed.

"Mom –"

"Did my internship with Betsey Johnson at the age of 1,5 and then launched my own line a couple of years later titled Clique Laurent," she said in a bored tone. "Valued at 25 million before the crash. My shoes and headbands were featured in some teen show."

"Oh!" Blair cried happily. "I had a few of your shoes – they were lovely."

"They were," she snapped.

"Pollyanna," Jacob warned her, and the girl rolled her eyes.

"Fine," she ground out. "You're giving me shit time, though – I'll have to work through the night and with limited smoke breaks to get this done on time."

"Is that a yes?" Blair asked her.

Pollyanna rolled her eyes. "Keep your boy off me," she sighed and looked at the design. "This is going to be like Project Runway on crack."

"Make it work., Blair smiled.

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To be honest, they hadn't really interacted since the moment she had screamed, and he had rushed into her room like some romance novel hero. He was pathetic. Pounding on doors, dismissing staff, giving up his seamstresses, adjusting the menu for something low in sodium… It was all too much.

"And then Miss Blair said I could keep the purse because I didn't have one of my own…" Ruby prattled on next to him as she coddled the cat Chuck had promised Blair he would get. "… And do you know she let me wear some of her perfume? I think I told you that. And I heard about what Miss Clara did, and she's just jealous because Miss Blair is prettier than her…"

Chuck had a headache.

"… And I was allowed to name the cat, which I'm going to name Cat, because Miss Blair said Breakfast at Tiffany's was her favorite movie, and in that movie the cat is named Cat – isn't that silly?"

"Very," Chuck rubbed his temples.

"… And the dress Polly is making is stunning! Miss Blair is going to look just like a princess, and I heard you're going to look very handsome too, Lord Bass. Are you two going to dance? Because Mr. Jacob is making sure a dance floor is installed and finished for tomorrow."

Chuck watched in amusement as Cat tried to extract himself from Ruby's overly loving hands. Good thing he had it declawed – he refused to risk any of his furniture due to Blair's need for a pet.

"… Do you know how to dance, Miss Blair?" Ruby asked, suddenly standing up, and Chuck realized that Blair was standing by the study, watching them. He cursed internally and quickly stood.

"Y-yes, Ruby," Blair nodded.

"Have you and Lord Bass ever danced together?" Ruby's eyes were sparkling as she held a struggling Cat.

Blair smiled down at her and then spied Chuck's face. He looked downright frightened.

"Humm… Yes. Many times," Blair admitted. Chuck cleared his throat.

"I hear the preparations are going well," he commented, and Ruby looked between them two.

"Yes, your whole staff is very diligent and apparently happy about the end of your bachelorhood," Blair smirked at him, and he couldn't help but smile.

"Aren't we supposed to not see each other the day before the wedding?" He teased.

"Yes, it's bad luck," she nodded. "But I figured, we're in the middle a war… There's little else that can damage us."

Ruby looked back and forth and apparently so was Cat. "Won't you practice the dance?" she piped up.

Blair and Chuck looked at her.

"It's not necessary," Blair commented, taking Cat from her and setting the animal on the floor. He quickly scurried away, happy at being let go.

"Oh yes, please – I don't know how to dance," Ruby pouted.

Blair's eyes brightened. "Well, we can't have that. Every proper lady should know how to dance."

Ruby looked elated.

"Chuck," Blair said, and his head snapped to look at her. "Show her."

Chuck's brows furrowed.

"I'm busy!" He ground out, not happy about her pushing him around.

"Yes, you look swamped," she said, taking Ruby's hand and walking her to Chuck. She placed the little girl before him. "Now," she explained. "The gentleman has to ask – he must initiate," she explained.

Chuck raised his brow because the last time they had shared a dance, she had done all the asking. He pondered on this for a while.

"Then you agree, if he's a gentleman," Blair smirked at her, and Ruby giggled. "Then he takes your left hand in his right hand – Chuck!" Chuck shifted, and then agreed, taking Ruby's hand as the little girl giggled. "And he will place his left hand on your waist, while your right hand is placed on his shoulder or picking up the train of your dress."

Chuck was bent forward since Ruby was so much shorter than him. He looked up at Blair, who was smiling at him.

"And then you let him lead…" she said softly. Chuck took that as his cue and swayed Ruby softly. The little girl was smiling like a mad hatter, but looking dreamily at Chuck.

"Now you, Miss Blair!" Ruby pulled away from Chuck and turned to Blair, who was suddenly aghast.

"No – Ruby –"

"Yes, Miss. Blair," Chuck teased, smirking at her and delighting in her discomfort.

Her nostrils flared as she glared at him.

"Fine, M'lord," she snipped, and he glared. "But you're going to have to ask."

Her eyes were bright because she knew he wouldn't. Not when she had challenged him to. He'd rather swallow coals. He ground his teeth, and Ruby looked innocently between the two.

"Lord Bass, you must ask. Remember, the gentleman must ask, he must initiate and only if he's a gentleman will she agree to it," Ruby repeated Blair's words.

Chuck glanced at the girl, and then back at Blair – his eyes still narrowed.

"She remembers well," he commented.

Blair smiled happily at him and then took Ruby's hand. "C'mon, Ruby. Lets see how the dress is going." She pulled the unhappy girl out of the room and threw Chuck a lovely smirk over her shoulder.

Chuck sat down with a huff as Cat wandered back into the room and curled around his leg. He was covered in her.

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She lay on her bed, staring at the ceiling and unable to sleep. Just a few feet away, her husband to be was sleeping. This was it. Blair Waldorf was getting married. To the boy she had lost her virginity to. To a boy, a man, she thought she hated for so many years. To the boy who had thrown sand in her face as a child and pulled her hair a few too many times. It was surreal.

Everything in her life; every step, every decision, had brought her to this. If she had never gone to do that interview, if she had never agreed to write about Chuck, if she had never been thrown out, if she had never gone to that dance, if she had never left her shoe… If she had never gone to see him at Victrola that night, if she had never gone up and danced, if she had never accepted the ride afterwards, if… if… if…

She tossed once more, the sheets feeling sticky on her skin. She couldn't sleep.

She was getting married. She was getting married for money, but it was no longer about that… It had stopped being about that since… Since he'd rescued her mother's ring.

She sat up and stared at the door that connected them.

She took a deep breath and walked to it. If she could just look at him for a moment. After the incident with the dress, they agreed to keep the doors unlocked between them, and if she could just tip in and see him… Just for a moment, to reassure herself that this would all turn out alright.

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Chuck had given up being on the bed. Something was wrong with it.

He'd have to get a new one.

He was marrying Blair Waldorf. In a few hours, he would be married to Blair Waldorf. This was insane. Guys like him didn't marry. They most certainly didn't marry Blair Waldorf.

Since this entire mess had started, all he could think was how he could save her after he had abandoned them all – knowing that they were going through hard times. Now all he could think was about her truly wanting him back the way he was needing her, and it was killing him because… Because he was no longer marrying for image.

It had changed a long time ago. Perhaps when he saw her home in the condition that it was. Perhaps when he saw her in the wedding dress as she looked on from the elevator.

He didn't know when it had changed, but he started realizing that all his life had led him to this very moment. Life had intended for him to marry Blair, regardless of condition.

In an alternate universe, he would've stayed, they would've talked once more after their last conversation. They might've have even danced at his father's wedding, they might've gone for a summer in Italy. They might've held hands, gone to the movies… It was all a dream. Things like that didn't happen.

War happened. Economic crisis happened. Death happened. These things were real. Everything else was window dressing.

But here he was, years later, and he was marrying her. She agreed to marry him.

He felt this feeling he hadn't been able to contain erupt in his chest, until he thought he couldn't breathe, and he thought if maybe he just looked at her sleeping. Just watched her for a moment, it would quell the feeling that was taking over his bloodstream.

So he stood and, with shaky hands, went to the door.

That moment, he opened the door.

That same moment, she opened the door.

They stared at each other.

Four feet. Forty-eight inches of space between them.

Their eyes were wide. The doors locked behind them, and it was just them. Darkness was around them except for the warm glow a small night light reflected in the small space. Just them.

No more pretending. No more charades. No more deals. No more politeness. Just them. No one else would see what happened now. No one else would understand.

"Blair –"

"Chuck –"

And before either could respond, he strode to her, and she eagerly reached up. And they were kissing.

Kissing like something was ending to bring a new beginning.

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To be continued

AN - I wanted to thank each person who takes time out to leave a review, I really appreciate it :)