Chapter 15 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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"I'd rather have the theme of you
To thread my nights and days,
I'd rather have the dream of you
With faint stars glowing,
I'd rather have the want of you,
The rich, elusive taunt of you
Forever and forever and forever un-confessed
Than claim the alien comfort
Of any other's breast."
Angela Morgan

He wasn't particularly sure if he had heard her correctly. He thought he heard her say 'Come here,' but this was Blair Waldorf, and he wasn't entirely sure if that was something she would say. He supposed a person could change.

"Chuck…" Her voice was soft in the room, and he shook himself out of his reverie.

She looked so stunning, sitting there by the light of the fireplace, dressed in this beautiful gown with the veil serving as a halo.

She was a goddess. His very own Queen of the goddesses. Slowly, he walked to her and reached for her hand. She quickly gave it to him, her eyes wide and questioning.

He pulled her up so that they were facing one another.

"You're a goddess, Blair," he whispered and, before he was able to react, his little goddess was pulling him down, devouring his lips. And he felt it – he felt her need, her insatiable need, her thirsty need. How long since a man had touched her? How very long?

Without thinking any more, he reached down and picked her up, her dress covering both of them, their eyes never leaving one another. She reached out and kissed him once more, pulling him closer with her hands around his neck and her breasts pressing to his chest as she turned in his arms.

He felt himself harden instantly at the feel of her small body all over him, despite the yards of cloth she was covered in. He walked her to her bed and softly placed her down on the silken sheets, the flowers surrounding her form as if she were a glowing angel. Their lips unlocked for a moment as he stared down at her.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice raspy and needy. A small smile flickered across her lips and, before he knew it, she had grabbed his collar and was pulling him down.

Blair was pretty sure this was how she had always imagined her wedding night would be. Her in a stunning gown, sitting by the soft fire as her husband entered the room wearing black pants, a white shirt and a lusty stare. The look in his eyes flushed her hot and cold until she felt she wasn't herself but a girl watching someone else's' movie. Hadn't she given up on these dreams long ago? Hadn't she given in to her life of poverty and disillusion?

Yet here she was, completely in love with her husband and about to consummate their marriage. The feel of his body on top of hers was absolutely divine – like she had been found. Like she'd made it home. She arched into him despite her large dress and somehow wished she had taken it off beforehand. His hands were skimming up and down her bodice, touching the fine silk of her dress and squeezing when appropriate as his lips never left hers.

"Help me," she breathed out, pulling away from him and sitting up, turning away from him so he could unzip her. His nimble hands found the long ivory zipper and slowly, ever so seductively, he zipped her down. Pausing to taste the skin of her back, pausing to kiss and touch the velvety blonde hairs she had growing all over her body. Small, diminutive things that he loved feeling under his fingers.

They both looked down when the enormous dress dropped to the floor, leaving her in her in her bridal underwear, which consisted of a vintage Dior corset and a white thong.

His mouth watered. She reached up and removed the band from her head that held the veil in place and dropped it on the dress. She stepped out of the skirt, and he took her hand, pulling her to him, kissing her collarbone as his left hand buried itself in her hair and unpinned it deftly.

Her warm brown waves flowed down and rested on her shoulders. Her eyes met his, and he slowly buried the other hand in her hair and pulled her towards him, kissing her temple as she sighed.

"Chuck…" she whimpered and, before she could say anything else, he had nearly thrown her on the bed. Visions of their first time together filled her mind once more. The desperate need, moments of tenderness, shifting of moods from steamy and sexy to soft and gentle, eyes that burned into one another.

When he finally entered her, both of them let out a cry of relief because it had been so very long since they had been in one another. Not one word was spoken as their passion took its own life and, before she knew it, she was crying out his name, grasping the dent in his back. Her milky thighs were wrapped around his torso and his knees were bruised from the pounding motion he repeated over and over. God, she felt fantastic! Warm, always warm, and little and perfect.

He paused a minute to catch his breath after he had climaxed inside of her, his face and mouth resting on her neck. As her own breathing became regular, she held on to his head, running her small fingers through his hair and pausing to kiss his forehead.

The butterflies.

The kryptonite.

Everything was taking over him and, before he knew it, he was hard once more, and they began their cycle again. This time, he flipped her over and she rode him without shame.

Hours later, she lay back on the bed as he walked naked to the fireplace and threw another log into the dying fire. Her skin had begun to get goose bumps – lying on a bed completely naked did that to a girl. He smirked when he observed her on the bed, her lids closed and a smile plastered on her face.

He climbed up from the foot of the bed and bent down to kiss her knees. He heard her gasp a little and saw her knee twitched. He held it in place, running the tip of his finger over it and kissing it every so often.

His tongue flicked out and ran up her knee to her upper inner thigh, and by now she was moaning and arching up.

"Insatiable," he murmured, still smirking. She arched off the bed, opening herself up for him. Gladly, he found her mound and suckled her until she was crying out with no shame whatsoever.

He was asleep now, on his stomach, his body completely relaxed. She propped up on her elbow and watched him sleep. Her hand traced small patterns on his shoulder as he breathed in and out.

The night had been magical, sexy, and exhausting. They'd not left each other's side and continued their love making until the sun began peeking out from behind the curtains. There had been moments when she had seen something in his eyes – something more than lust. Maybe trust or commitment. She had seen it before in his eyes, in their younger years, but she could not name it now. She dared not.

So she contented herself by playing with his skin, making him twitch in his sleep and murmur things.

"I love you, Chuck Bass," she whispered to him – ever so delicately and low, and he didn't even move. He continued his rhythmic breathing, and she watched.

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When he woke, he found her draped over him on her stomach, completely oblivious to the world around her. Her dark hair was a tangled mess – a testimony of their passionate night. Her lips were still swollen, and she had a content smile on her face.

She'd cried out his name that night – all night long, to be exact. As a man, it left a soft, pleasant, proud feeling inside of him. He caressed her delicate skin, by the side of her breast and where her arm rested. She was made of carved and polished ivory; her entire skin was peppered with small little hazelnut freckles that he delighted in finding and laying claim to.

She murmured something and buried her face in his chest, pulling a smile from his lips.

His wife.

She was all his.

"I love you, Blair… Waldorf-Bass," He smirked a bit.

She didn't stir, just continued with her breathing and her small smiles of satisfaction.

Taking her hand and kissing the palm, he slowly extracted himself from her arms, covering her shivering body up with the quilt and, throwing one last log on the fire, he grabbed his clothes and went down his hallway.

This was it. This is when the real test began. The new game. How long would he be able to go through without touching his blushing and perfect wife? How long before he would snap and take her in the stables, in the kitchens, anyplace where he could prop her up. She had intoxicated him, and he was pretty sure he would never recover.

He took an angry bath and, by the time Jacob came to read him his morning report, he had enough sense to ignore the man's questioning eyes. Apparently Jacob had never imagined he would find Chuck in his own room.

"The wedding is over, Jacob – we talk business from now on," Chuck announced, taking the reports from him and pouring scotch into his coffee.

"Of course, sir," he replied, nodding, but still worried.

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When she woke to find him gone, her heart fell down to the bottom of her toes. He had left. Sneaked out in the early morning as she slept peacefully thinking he was cherishing her. It was an abrupt ending to the night they'd shared. She quickly walked to the bathroom and puked.

She stared at the toilet, her breathing ragged and uneven. She felt sick to her stomach. Sicker than she'd felt in years. As she stared at the mess in the water, she panicked, quickly rinsing her mouth. Last time she had spiraled down, she had nearly lost her life. She had lost the ability to conceive.

Conceive.

Chuck had said he didn't want children, but Blair knew men, and she knew she had to tell him eventually. Tell him when his eyes didn't affect her. That was her new purpose in life: to live like Chuck didn't affect her. She was certain he would stay away from her now that they were married and had consummated the marriage. It was time for her to do her duty – the duty she had agreed to. To be the perfect wife, the lady of the house.

She took a deep, shuddering breath and cleansed herself under a hot shower.

When Dorota finally came to the room, she was almost dressed and poised.

"The wedding is over now, Dorota – we have things to attend to," she explained.

Dorota's wide eyes never left her small form. "Yes, Miss Blair."

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Concentrating on everything that was not Blair was downright killing him. Someone as well just shoot him. He would be walking, and he would hear her voice, talking to her mother, talking to Ruby – talking to the staff and ordering them around. He was pathetic. He would hide behind pillars and listen to her voice until Jacob found him, and he would have to make up some bullshit excuse as to why he was smiling against a pillar as she informed the cook of the difference between low-fat sour cream and non-fat sour cream. Jacob didn't believe him, of course.

Ruby followed Blair everywhere, and Chuck was having a hard time cornering Blair by herself in order to talk to her. Not that he wanted to talk to her, but the skirts and dresses she wore around the house were making it hard for him to think about anything other than their wedding night. Her riding gear didn't help, either. She looked simply irresistible in those tight pants that accentuated her ass. Christ! He got hard just thinking about it!

So he decided to immerse himself in work. It didn't help when Blair wandered into his study (yes, with Ruby trailing behind her) and looked over the papers on his desk.

"I though I would be involved," she demanded, hands on her hips. Next to her Ruby imitated her pose. Chuck rolled his internal eye.

"Boring stuff," he replied.

Her eyes narrowed, and he decided she was prettier when annoyed.

"I'd like to be the judge of that, husband," she snapped.

"Fine. Come see," he waved her over, and she walked around his desk, leaning into the papers filled with endless excel spreadsheets and numbers. Her brows furrowed, and he smirked.

"What is it?" Ruby piped in, her own face scrunched up as she peered over the papers.

"Nothing," Blair snapped and glared at Chuck. He smiled indulgently.

"Can you read me the poem you promised, Lady Blair?" Ruby asked, and Chuck nearly choked at Blair's new nickname.

Blair, however, seemed to bask in it. "Of course."

Ruby smiled happily at Chuck, who looked confused.

"We need keys to the private library," Blair informed him.

Chuck cocked a brow. "The private library?"

"Yes, the one behind the glass that I can't get to. That one," Blair snapped.

Chuck's eyes narrowed. "Those are priceless."

"Like your bride's happiness?" She asked, sweetly with bating eyelashes. He grunted and took a shiny silver key out of his desk, handing it over to her outstretched hand.

She smiled back at him and quickly took Ruby's hand as they bounced out of his office. He stared at them, her perfume intoxicating him until he thought he would pass out. She was going to kill him.

Curiosity got the best of him, and he followed them, of course – intent on finding out exactly what Blair had promised the overly excited Ruby.

He found them in the 'Room of Possibilities' – as Blair had named it. Blair was sitting by the fireplace, and Ruby was cuddled up next to her, looking over an old book Blair was reading out of. Eleanor sat on a thick chair, staring off into the fire with Cat curled on her lap, listening to Blair while Dorota seemed to be knitting something.

"Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard, He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred, He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there…" Ruby's eyes were wide as Blair continued. "But the landlord's black-eyed daughter-- Bess, the landlord's daughter-- Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair."

Ruby smiled happily along with Blair. Blair turned the page as he leaned back and studied her profile from the doorway.

""One kiss, my bonny sweetheart; I'm after a prize tonight, But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light," Blair continued the poem, and Chuck couldn't help but smile at the way Ruby became more and more enchanted with the story.

"They're in love!" Ruby said excitedly, and Eleanor shushed her.

"Yet if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day, Then look for me by moonlight, Watch for me by moonlight, I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way,"" Blair emphasized, and Chuck remembered how she would read Romeo & Juliet to Nathaniel and himself as they stood bored and annoyed as children.

By the time the poem ended (five pages later), Ruby was in tears.

"But why did she have to die?" She sobbed. Blair looked at a loss. She for one, loved tragic stories. They always left much more of an impact.

"And then he died!" Ruby sobbed.

"But they are together now – both in heaven," Blair tried to appease her.

"I suggest you read her happier poems," Chuck said, finally announcing his presence and startling Blair and Ruby.

"How long have you been there?" Blair demanded, standing up and checking her hair with her hand. He smiled.

"Long enough," he nodded.

"The entire time," Eleanor put in, her eyes not leaving the fireplace.

Blair huffed and placed the old book on the shelf, closing the glass behind it.

"Do you know any happy ones, Lord Bass?" Ruby asked, walking to him, and that was when he noticed she was dressing just like Blair with little headbands and matching skirts.

"Poets are sad creatures – they're entirely too depressed with life, so they write of love lost, love gained, and love destroyed," Chuck told her. "If you ask me, love shouldn't bring you to tears."

Ruby thought about this for a moment and smiled at him. "Like you and Lady Blair."

Blair quickly stepped forward and grabbed the girl. "Come, let's go riding like I promised we would."

Blair tossed Chuck a look over her shoulder. He cursed quietly as she left and was stunned to find Dorota staring at him.

"You should tell her," she snapped at him, angrily. Chuck turned around and went to find his most aged scotch.

Jacob was right, that maid talked entirely too much.

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Blair walked down the stairs in full riding gear and was surprised to find Chuck also there, listening to Ruby's incessant chatter. She'd been trying to avoid him since their wedding night. They've been married now five weeks and had hardly exchanged words. They had bumped into one another four times exactly.

Once during dinner, once while riding, once exiting their rooms and, of course, the poem incident that had just occurred. She wasn't sure what bothered her more. The fact that she kept coming up with scenarios in her head for them to meet, or that fact that when they actually happened, she became a mess and didn't know what to say.

Being in love with Chuck Bass was obviously detrimental to her health. She had less appetite, she would think over and over about their wedding night, when they had touched without repercussions. At times she would dream that he entered her room, and they would confess their feelings and make love for days until Dorota and Jacob pounded down the door. She was horny and annoyed and had to muffle her moans at night since he slept right next to her.

But those were dreams.

The war was coming closer and closer. The doctor had left the week of their marriage, and the village was now facing the impending winter with no doctor and limited supplies.

Chuck had done his best to ensure there would be enough food for everyone – the day they had bumped into each other while riding, he had showed her the greenhouses where wheat and vegetables were grown and the cattle was being fattened for the cold.

She had observed him walking around with his long black coat flapping around him as he explained the system he had devised in order to provide enough food for the village. He didn't know it, but he had saved these people. If the whole world were torn to shreds, these people would remain. The village was completely self-sufficient, except for a few things that were brought in from the exterior – but that mostly consisted of clothing, books, and toys for the children.

When Blair made it to the bottom of the stairs, she swallowed as he met her eyes.

"Are you going to join us?" She asked him, and he gave her his trademark smirk that always infuriated her.

"Oh, yes! Do join us, Lord Bass!" Ruby insisted, looking adorable in her own matching pants and boots.

"I never refuse a lady," he commented.

"Wiser words were never spoken," Blair snipped and avoided his eyes as she led them towards the stables.

Blair always watched out for Clara because the woman was like a bad seed that continued to pop up every so often. Blair was determined to squish her.

Chuck lifted Ruby and set her in front of him as they mounted their horses, and Ruby looked at Blair happily. They galloped towards Jonas' home – which was Blair's favorite spot, and Chuck knew it. The ride shut Ruby up for a while as the sharp, cold wind hit them. The temperatures were dropping and fast; it was no higher than 34 degrees Fahrenheit that day. The sun was lost behind clouds, and the entire world seemed sad.

"It's cold," Ruby complained.

"Let's see if we can get Jonas to fix you some of his hot cocoa," Chuck suggested, and she nodded, her teeth chattering despite her heavy coat and gloves. Blair agreed wholeheartedly with her as her own fingers were rather numb.

As Jonas' cabin became visible, Ruby felt revived and began chattering happily about anything and everything.

But Jonas didn't come out to greet them, which he usually did, and Chuck instantly found this strange.

"Jonas!" He cried out. Blair looked around, moving Hera around Jonas' now dormant garden.

"Mr. Jonas!" Ruby stated, imitating Chuck.

"Mr. Bass!"

Both Blair and Chuck turned sharply behind them to find Jonas galloping fast on his own horse. He was out of breath and looked very upset.

"Mr. Bass!" He cried, coming towards them. Chuck urged his horse towards the man, and Blair followed.

When they met half way Jonas was out of breath – his breath making white clouds around him.

"Intruders, sir – up the west side!" He said.

Blair looked at Chuck, alarmed. Chuck looked downright angry and upset.

"How many?" He demanded.

"About ten, on horse and with guns," Jonas explained.

Chuck quickly reacted, pulling Ruby off his horse and placing her deftly behind Blair as the girls looked at him in confusion.

"Chuck –"

"Get to the house, stay in – you hear? Lock yourselves in," he ordered, leaving no room to argue. "Tell Jacob what's happening."

Chuck turned to Jonas. "Get me a gun." And the man nodded, trotting to his house. Blair looked at Chuck with frightened as Ruby whimpered behind her.

"What's happening?" Blair demanded, her own heart beating at a frightful pace.

"Go!" And with that, he smacked the back of her horse, sending Hera running forward. Blair yelped and looked behind her as Jonas threw Chuck a long rifle and the two rode the opposite way.

Blair made it to the house, out of breath as she dismounted the horse, angry at finding Clara lounging outside.

"Jacob!" She called out. "Call Jacob!"

"Don't yell at me –"

"Get him, or I swear to God it'll be your last day in this village," Blair hissed at her.

Clara met her eyes angrily and stomped inside. Blair jumped off the horse and took Ruby down, handing the horse to Mr. Carter, who came running at the commotion.

Jacob was bouncing down the stairs by the time she turned around, with Clara following close at his heels.

"Intruders, up the West side – Chuck and Jonas have gone after them!" Blair said, out of breath, fear pumping in and out of her. Clara's eyes widened.

"With guns?" Jacob demanded.

"Y-yes. And horses," Blair explained.

"Fuck," Jacob hissed, then turned to Mr. Carter. "Get everyone to the safe room!"

But Clara had pushed past him and jumped on her horse.

"Clara!" Jacob cried out. But Clara urged her horse.

"He said to stay in the house!" Blair demanded of her.

Clara pushed her off and galloped away.

Blair turned to Jacob, alarmed. "C'mon!" He took her elbow and dragged her into the house. Once in the house, it seemed like everything had come alive. Dorota was being led down the stairs by a maid, and her mother trailed behind with Polly at her heals.

Blair thought she imagined it, but Jacob and Dorota's eyes met briefly, and then he turned to Blair.

"This way!" Jacob shouted at them all.

They seemed to be followed by the entire house staff as they made it down a hallways that Blair had not explored. He opened the door and went down what seemed to be a basement. Blair followed Jacob, clutching her mother's shaking hand as they made it down some stairs and, before Blair knew it, they were surrounded by ancient stone.

"What is this place?" She demanded as Jacob lit a torch.

"We're in the castle now. Mr. Bass built the passage to this safe room. It's the castle's old dungeons," he explained as everyone – all twenty people or so – huddled in the large and dingy place.

"What do we do now?" She asked, her mind racing as to what exactly Chuck thought he was going to accomplish with one shotgun against ten armed men.

"We wait until it's safe," Jacob said, his eyes wide.

"Has this happened before?" She asked, and he nodded.

"Has anyone ever been hurt?" She demanded, angry at not being informed of the real dangers found in this paradise.

Jacob was silent, but his hard expression said more than enough.

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If you asked Blair years later about the most agonizing time in her life, she would say it was those forty-three minutes. There, in the damp darkness, shivering and huddled with her mother as Ruby cried on Polly's shoulder and Jacob and Dorota did odd things with their eyes – yes. It was definitely the most agonizing thing she'd had to endure. Not knowing what the hell Chuck was doing up there, riding around with a rifle like some cowboy. God! She should've gone after him. She should've! Clara was out there – with him while she, his wife, was down here like some damsel in distress!

She fumed for those forty-three minutes.

Then, suddenly, the lock behind the door was tugged opened, and Blair held her breath. The entire room went silent and, from behind the door, Jonas' head appeared, shaken.

His eyes locked directly with Blair's. "Come."

Blair scrambled up, followed by Jacob. Ruby tried to follow, but Polly held her down despite her protest. Blair's heart was beating a mile a minute as she pushed her way through the staff and up the door. Fear was overtaking her. She swore to God that if that Chuck Basstard had left her a widow, she would hunt him down and make him pay!

After she cried over his grave.

But he wasn't dead – that was too awful. She couldn't handle that now. Jonas quickly took her arm and led her up to the door. She saw Chuck slowly dismounting his horse and giving orders the other men. She noticed he looked pale and cold. Clara, that bitch, was trailing after him with a weapon of her own.

She was just so very relieved to see him alive that she decided to ignore Clara the gnome and focus on her husband who was alive and –

Chuck turned to her, and she instantly noticed how pale he was, red spots under his sunken eyes. She walked to him.

"Chuck –" She said, her brows furrowed. He collapsed right on her, making her scream and shout.

"I told him not to ride the fucking horse!" Jonas cried, helping Chuck off a shaken Blair.

"Oh, my God!" Blair cried when Chuck's coat flapped opened to reveal the entire front part of his shirt soaked in deep dark blood. So dark it was almost black. And it kept flowing.

"He got shot twice, he said he was fine –" Jonas explained.

"Chuck!" Blair cried, touching his face. His eyes opened slightly, and he attempted to smirk but failed miserably, making it look instead like a grimace.

"You ok?" He garbled, and his eyes rolled back.

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To be continued