i will remember you, you will remember me
Title: The Fair Tale {I of III}
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters: Blair Waldorf, Dan Humphrey, Chuck Bass, Serena Van Der Woodsen, Nate Archibald
Pairing: Chuck/Blair, Dan/Blair, Louis/Blair
Genre/Rating: PG
Summary: One day, when you grow up, you realise that the happily ever after you created in your head was not what you really wanted to begin with.
+She’d always imagined her life like this; getting married to a prince and living out her life in the familial elitism that came so delicately to her. If the public saw her as a ordinary girl meeting the prince and living out her Cinderella affair, they were very wrong. Blair was more like Anastasia, recovered from the depths of her plebeian surroundings and gaining status in the world. Blair thought the general public was rather idiotic if they thought she would greet their children and take flowers. She had a rather Marie Antoinette-ian attitude towards people that didn’t live on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.
They were dirty and who knew what diseases they harboured.
She had a similar disposition to plaid as she did towards poverty. It had been popular in the winter of 2003 and now needed to rest in peace until the end of eternity.
As she watched people walk past her, their looks grazing over her she wondered if they knew who she was - or would be tomorrow, rather. They seemed blissfully unaware that they were in the presence of a Princess. A Manhattanite that had transcended New York royalty to take her rightful place among the real Royals.
And yet she felt so sick but that might’ve been the soy milk chai latte that Dan had bought her earlier. The milk was sitting uncomfortably in her stomach and she remembered that it wasn’t Brooklyn’s fault they didn’t get their milk pasteurised - they were too busy saving the cows or some other such nonsense.
However, she had to admit, she would’ve been half way to her father’s chateau in France if it hadn’t been for Dan. She’d called in near tears and he’d offered to take her out for breakfast and talk. Just talk. She reminded him off-handedly in a glimmer of her former archaic rationality that he was not to tempt her with any sort of itineries that involved fleeing.
He’d almost grudgingly accepted.
(Blair figured that private jets and first class service attracted lonely boy)
He’d taken her out to a decent café on the Upper West Side and Blair had only complained about the décor, wait staff and size of her fruit platter.
(The company hadn’t been too bad.)
While Blair had expected Dan to harass her with some sort of determined liberalist spiel about following her heart he’d kept conversation steered clearly away from relationships and they chatted about the new Coppola movie and a new but utterly unknown alternative author Dan had discovered. She’d politely only smirked at the former topic and had been almost amiable when they’d been discussing orientalist literature on the way to the cinema to watch Sophie’s Choice.
(Blair figured that the day before her wedding she could justify 3 hours to watch one of her favourite movies.)
It was only as they ordered popcorn and Dan sat down a seat away from her that Blair frowned, moved the armrest and curled up next to him that the conversation moved towards the impending marriage.
“I don’t know what to do,” Blair whispered. “I feel like I’m failing everyone.”
Dan frowned, eyes flickering from the advertisement of the new bakery on 45th to Blair’s decision to finally discuss what had brought her over the bridge to a dingy Russian-owned cinema that only played old movies to spend time with ‘Cabbage-patch.’
“If you love Louis, then this is the right decision.”
“But what about if I love someone else?”
Dan sighed and leant on her.
“Blair...”
“No Dan. I’m getting married tomorrow. Married. Married.”
She was quiet for a long time.
“What does that mean?” He asked softly.
“Marriage should be forever and I’m not even sure if I want to be with him tomorrow.”
“Louis loves you.”
Blair shook her head.
“But do I love Louis?”
“I can’t answer that question for you.”
She leant back against the chair and groaned as the lights dimmed.
“You have a choice.”
“Do I?”
Dan nodded. “Marry Louis, or wait till you’re ready and you know who you want to spend the rest of your life with.”
“What if I never know?”
“You’ll know.”
She wasn’t sure if Daniel’s blind optimism irritated her or calmed her. With her emotions in a testy equilibrium, she didn’t make any attempt to continue talking.
The biopic ended two and a half hours alter and by that time, Blair had cried, laughed and smiled.
As they walked out, Blair hugged him and nodded before she walked away, hailing a cab as she went.
And now as she sat with ducks by her feet by the pond that she and Dorota frequented, she remembered the feeling of slight nausea and she tried to shake off the scent of Chanel pour homme that lingered on her collar.
Even despite the fresh Autumn wind, she couldn’t remove herself from the lingering trace of unelicited ministrations that had occurred only minutes before hand. She was still flushed, her hair looking akin to Serena Van Der Woodsen than the blow-dried locks she preferred. She only had one man to blame for that.
Through the crowds, she made out the limousine curve gently into 92nd and disappear behind Harry Winston’s reflective exterior. She was getting married tomorrow. Tomorrow as she had to vehemently reminded Humphrey. But moments ago she’d been talking to Chuck.
The name tasted like reparations.
She knew there would be consequences.
But all they had done was talk really. She’d just gotten so frustrated with his veiled accusations that she stomped off and the result had been ‘angry hair’.
She felt very Cruella de Ville minus the dead Dalmatians.
It wasn’t even her fault he’d raised her blood pressure up so. It was the fact that Chuck insisted on making everything about him and the conversation had spun around his insatiable desire to ruin her life.
“I’m getting married tomorrow, Chuck,” She’d reminded him, icily.
“A wedding you failed to invite me too.”
“There’s only so much destruction I can take.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“What are you doing here, then?”
“I needed to talk to you.”
“How did you know I’d be here?”
He gestured vaguely towards Vanya and Blair scowled. Her maids loyalty stretched only as far as her ring finger.
“Rude,” She muttered.
“Vanya knows her weak spots,” Chuck supplied casually.
She shuddered as Chuck smirked. “So?”
“I’m here to discuss the future.”
“The one without you in it?” She asked tempestedly.
“There’s no need for hostility. I’m proposing an arrangement.”
“Our previous agreement didn’t work, what makes you so sure this one will?”
“I think the sacrifice I’m prepared to make, is more than deserving of your acceptance.”
Blair scoffed but relented. It was barely genuine, but she could tell he wasn’t lying. Perhaps underneath that macabre exterior, Chuck did actually care for her.
The very thought made her feel overwhelmingly nauseous.
“Fine. What do you want?”
Perhaps it was the sudden change in the wind or the conversation, but Blair felt unwell.
“I’ll stay out of your life - I won’t even crash the wedding. Just..”
Blair smiled sarcastically. “What the catch? …Bass?”
“I want to know the paternity of your child.”
And perhaps it was that wind - but then again it might’ve been the conversation but suddenly, Blair felt decidedly unwell.
The floor appeared out of nowhere as she was cloaked by the green grasses of Central Park.
….
“Blair? …Blair? Wake up Blair.”
Was Chuck preparing to give her mouth to mouth or did he think being indecently close would magically wake her up?
“ksdlfja;.. Charles Bass, I’m engaged.”
“And pregnant. Can you stand?”
“I can. Give me your hand. I can’t believe you let me fall.”
“Mr Charles tried to catch you, Miss Blair.”
Vanya.
“Did the whole of Manhattan see that?”
Chuck smirked but Vanya busied himself with collecting her articles.
“Bag?”
She nodded, snatching it from his grasp.
“I think it’s time you left, Chuck.”
“Blair?”
“Now.”
“What about our-“
“Did you miss the memo when I came over and asked you if you were able to raise another man’s child?”
Chuck was taken aback by the nonchalance of her tone.
“You’ve lied before.”
“The fact that you think I would lie about this confirms my suspicions. At least Louis still trusts me.”
“Does he?”
“We’ve crossed that bridge. Please leave Chuck. Now.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Chuck!”
But the insolent bastard had already walked away.
She slumped down on the seat and slowly brushed out the grass clippings from her Prada slouch.
It was enough. It really was. The park held too many memories and today was not the day to be having any sort of doubts..
Who was she kidding?
It was time to head home.
-
-
-
She’d walked the thirteen blocks from the park to her house in a brainless attempt to ‘get some air’. All that had transpired was several blisters and a homeless man hitting on her. She was relieved to reach home and as soon as she stepped out of the elevator, she dumped her bag and and wondered how people like Vanessa existed without motorised transportation.
“Blair?”
Blair was almost disappointed at the company.
She sighed. “Dan.”
“What are you doing here?” She mumbled.
“You asked me today… if you loved Louis and I told you I couldn’t answer for you and I-…I faltered, I guess. Look Blair, I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way but I-…I need to tell you this. Ever since I saw you sitting in that corridor at your mother’s fashion shoot I think I knew that there was more to you than this exterior. And this year… you let me see that and maybe you didn’t realise… but I fell in love with you in the process. It didn’t happen over night and sometimes I hated you more than I tolerated you but when it came down it… I can’t lie to you. You’re getting married tomorrow and I don’t care. I don’t care if this is selfish - I tried to bury all of this - for your sake and tell myself that it didn’t matter as long as you were happy but you aren’t and I won’t - I can’t. I need you - but more importantly you need me.”
“Dan.”
“No… you can’t…”
“Serena?”
“Oh god.”
tbc
Fandom: Gossip Girl
Characters: Blair Waldorf, Dan Humphrey, Chuck Bass, Serena Van Der Woodsen, Nate Archibald
Pairing: Chuck/Blair, Dan/Blair, Louis/Blair
Genre/Rating: PG
Summary: One day, when you grow up, you realise that the happily ever after you created in your head was not what you really wanted to begin with.
+She’d always imagined her life like this; getting married to a prince and living out her life in the familial elitism that came so delicately to her. If the public saw her as a ordinary girl meeting the prince and living out her Cinderella affair, they were very wrong. Blair was more like Anastasia, recovered from the depths of her plebeian surroundings and gaining status in the world. Blair thought the general public was rather idiotic if they thought she would greet their children and take flowers. She had a rather Marie Antoinette-ian attitude towards people that didn’t live on the Upper East Side of Manhattan.
They were dirty and who knew what diseases they harboured.
She had a similar disposition to plaid as she did towards poverty. It had been popular in the winter of 2003 and now needed to rest in peace until the end of eternity.
As she watched people walk past her, their looks grazing over her she wondered if they knew who she was - or would be tomorrow, rather. They seemed blissfully unaware that they were in the presence of a Princess. A Manhattanite that had transcended New York royalty to take her rightful place among the real Royals.
And yet she felt so sick but that might’ve been the soy milk chai latte that Dan had bought her earlier. The milk was sitting uncomfortably in her stomach and she remembered that it wasn’t Brooklyn’s fault they didn’t get their milk pasteurised - they were too busy saving the cows or some other such nonsense.
However, she had to admit, she would’ve been half way to her father’s chateau in France if it hadn’t been for Dan. She’d called in near tears and he’d offered to take her out for breakfast and talk. Just talk. She reminded him off-handedly in a glimmer of her former archaic rationality that he was not to tempt her with any sort of itineries that involved fleeing.
He’d almost grudgingly accepted.
(Blair figured that private jets and first class service attracted lonely boy)
He’d taken her out to a decent café on the Upper West Side and Blair had only complained about the décor, wait staff and size of her fruit platter.
(The company hadn’t been too bad.)
While Blair had expected Dan to harass her with some sort of determined liberalist spiel about following her heart he’d kept conversation steered clearly away from relationships and they chatted about the new Coppola movie and a new but utterly unknown alternative author Dan had discovered. She’d politely only smirked at the former topic and had been almost amiable when they’d been discussing orientalist literature on the way to the cinema to watch Sophie’s Choice.
(Blair figured that the day before her wedding she could justify 3 hours to watch one of her favourite movies.)
It was only as they ordered popcorn and Dan sat down a seat away from her that Blair frowned, moved the armrest and curled up next to him that the conversation moved towards the impending marriage.
“I don’t know what to do,” Blair whispered. “I feel like I’m failing everyone.”
Dan frowned, eyes flickering from the advertisement of the new bakery on 45th to Blair’s decision to finally discuss what had brought her over the bridge to a dingy Russian-owned cinema that only played old movies to spend time with ‘Cabbage-patch.’
“If you love Louis, then this is the right decision.”
“But what about if I love someone else?”
Dan sighed and leant on her.
“Blair...”
“No Dan. I’m getting married tomorrow. Married. Married.”
She was quiet for a long time.
“What does that mean?” He asked softly.
“Marriage should be forever and I’m not even sure if I want to be with him tomorrow.”
“Louis loves you.”
Blair shook her head.
“But do I love Louis?”
“I can’t answer that question for you.”
She leant back against the chair and groaned as the lights dimmed.
“You have a choice.”
“Do I?”
Dan nodded. “Marry Louis, or wait till you’re ready and you know who you want to spend the rest of your life with.”
“What if I never know?”
“You’ll know.”
She wasn’t sure if Daniel’s blind optimism irritated her or calmed her. With her emotions in a testy equilibrium, she didn’t make any attempt to continue talking.
The biopic ended two and a half hours alter and by that time, Blair had cried, laughed and smiled.
As they walked out, Blair hugged him and nodded before she walked away, hailing a cab as she went.
And now as she sat with ducks by her feet by the pond that she and Dorota frequented, she remembered the feeling of slight nausea and she tried to shake off the scent of Chanel pour homme that lingered on her collar.
Even despite the fresh Autumn wind, she couldn’t remove herself from the lingering trace of unelicited ministrations that had occurred only minutes before hand. She was still flushed, her hair looking akin to Serena Van Der Woodsen than the blow-dried locks she preferred. She only had one man to blame for that.
Through the crowds, she made out the limousine curve gently into 92nd and disappear behind Harry Winston’s reflective exterior. She was getting married tomorrow. Tomorrow as she had to vehemently reminded Humphrey. But moments ago she’d been talking to Chuck.
The name tasted like reparations.
She knew there would be consequences.
But all they had done was talk really. She’d just gotten so frustrated with his veiled accusations that she stomped off and the result had been ‘angry hair’.
She felt very Cruella de Ville minus the dead Dalmatians.
It wasn’t even her fault he’d raised her blood pressure up so. It was the fact that Chuck insisted on making everything about him and the conversation had spun around his insatiable desire to ruin her life.
“I’m getting married tomorrow, Chuck,” She’d reminded him, icily.
“A wedding you failed to invite me too.”
“There’s only so much destruction I can take.”
“I want you to be happy.”
“What are you doing here, then?”
“I needed to talk to you.”
“How did you know I’d be here?”
He gestured vaguely towards Vanya and Blair scowled. Her maids loyalty stretched only as far as her ring finger.
“Rude,” She muttered.
“Vanya knows her weak spots,” Chuck supplied casually.
She shuddered as Chuck smirked. “So?”
“I’m here to discuss the future.”
“The one without you in it?” She asked tempestedly.
“There’s no need for hostility. I’m proposing an arrangement.”
“Our previous agreement didn’t work, what makes you so sure this one will?”
“I think the sacrifice I’m prepared to make, is more than deserving of your acceptance.”
Blair scoffed but relented. It was barely genuine, but she could tell he wasn’t lying. Perhaps underneath that macabre exterior, Chuck did actually care for her.
The very thought made her feel overwhelmingly nauseous.
“Fine. What do you want?”
Perhaps it was the sudden change in the wind or the conversation, but Blair felt unwell.
“I’ll stay out of your life - I won’t even crash the wedding. Just..”
Blair smiled sarcastically. “What the catch? …Bass?”
“I want to know the paternity of your child.”
And perhaps it was that wind - but then again it might’ve been the conversation but suddenly, Blair felt decidedly unwell.
The floor appeared out of nowhere as she was cloaked by the green grasses of Central Park.
….
“Blair? …Blair? Wake up Blair.”
Was Chuck preparing to give her mouth to mouth or did he think being indecently close would magically wake her up?
“ksdlfja;.. Charles Bass, I’m engaged.”
“And pregnant. Can you stand?”
“I can. Give me your hand. I can’t believe you let me fall.”
“Mr Charles tried to catch you, Miss Blair.”
Vanya.
“Did the whole of Manhattan see that?”
Chuck smirked but Vanya busied himself with collecting her articles.
“Bag?”
She nodded, snatching it from his grasp.
“I think it’s time you left, Chuck.”
“Blair?”
“Now.”
“What about our-“
“Did you miss the memo when I came over and asked you if you were able to raise another man’s child?”
Chuck was taken aback by the nonchalance of her tone.
“You’ve lied before.”
“The fact that you think I would lie about this confirms my suspicions. At least Louis still trusts me.”
“Does he?”
“We’ve crossed that bridge. Please leave Chuck. Now.”
“I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Chuck!”
But the insolent bastard had already walked away.
She slumped down on the seat and slowly brushed out the grass clippings from her Prada slouch.
It was enough. It really was. The park held too many memories and today was not the day to be having any sort of doubts..
Who was she kidding?
It was time to head home.
-
-
-
She’d walked the thirteen blocks from the park to her house in a brainless attempt to ‘get some air’. All that had transpired was several blisters and a homeless man hitting on her. She was relieved to reach home and as soon as she stepped out of the elevator, she dumped her bag and and wondered how people like Vanessa existed without motorised transportation.
“Blair?”
Blair was almost disappointed at the company.
She sighed. “Dan.”
“What are you doing here?” She mumbled.
“You asked me today… if you loved Louis and I told you I couldn’t answer for you and I-…I faltered, I guess. Look Blair, I don’t care if you don’t feel the same way but I-…I need to tell you this. Ever since I saw you sitting in that corridor at your mother’s fashion shoot I think I knew that there was more to you than this exterior. And this year… you let me see that and maybe you didn’t realise… but I fell in love with you in the process. It didn’t happen over night and sometimes I hated you more than I tolerated you but when it came down it… I can’t lie to you. You’re getting married tomorrow and I don’t care. I don’t care if this is selfish - I tried to bury all of this - for your sake and tell myself that it didn’t matter as long as you were happy but you aren’t and I won’t - I can’t. I need you - but more importantly you need me.”
“Dan.”
“No… you can’t…”
“Serena?”
“Oh god.”
tbc