[o39] gossip girl : storybook endings
Title: Storybook Endings
Author: In Fair Verona
Genre: Romance + Adventure
Pairing: CBN
Rating: T
Summary: Blair Waldorf never believed in fairy-tales. However, weeks after her best friend left for boarding school, Blair finds herself enthralled by the pages of an old book, and is thrown in the midst of a strange new world, at the center of a war, and in between a prince and a knight.
PROLOGUE | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
There was something very heavy resting upon her shoulders. Had this been a metaphorical dream, which it very may well have been, Blair would have suspected that this weight represented the Atlas-like pressure she was facing to save Astoria from utter destruction and domination. However, when the sunlight filtered in through the small room's window, rousing the girl from her sleep, Blair realized that dream or no dream, metaphor or not, there was something literally quite heavy on her.
It was Chuck's arm.
"What?" The girl jolted upwards, and in her panic she rather violently knocked the prince's hand away. He appeared hardly affected though he did begin to wake from his drowsy stupor, yawning and rolling onto his back.
"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Chuck mumbled, eyes fluttering open as he stared up at her. He smiled suddenly and devilishly, "Have a nice dream? Was I in it?"
"If you were it would have been a nightmare." Blair retorted, self-conscienciously patting her curly coif. Sleeping on the floor had been most uncomfortable and she could only imagine what kind of awful strain of bed-head it must have given her. "Chuck Bass. Even in your sub-conscience you cannot keep your hands to yourself."
"It's a gift and a curse." Chuck drawled helplessly, staring up at the ceiling. Blair had been so tired after their hike back from the ruins that she had hardly noticed the prince's preferred sleepwear. Silk pajamas. Really. Red silk, at that. "See something you like?" Chuck inquired, pushing himself into a sitting position and arching his eyebrow at her.
Blair flinched, sending him a look she hoped would convey her repulsion. "Do these feeble attempts at flirting actually work with most women?"
"You think I actually have to flirt to get with most women?" Chuck replied, "It really doesn't require so much effort."
"Oh, right, I forgot. You just flick your wrist and they come crawling." Blair forced a smile. "How charming." Chuck opened his mouth to reply but someone else had already had enough of their pillow talk and the evidence was in the pillow that suddenly thwacked him in the face.
"Honestly, can you two shut it for five seconds?" Daniel groaned into the floor, rolling over onto his side and yanking his sheet above his head.
"Oh right, like the rest of us don't have to listen to you and that raven-haired wench fawn all over each other." Chuck scoffed, though he was silenced by a shadow looming over him.
"What did you call me?" Vanessa Abrams, fully dressed, and having probably been awake for quite some time now, glared down at the boy while tapping her foot impatiently.
"Raven-haired wench." Chuck enunciated, "It's actually a term of endearment in my kingdom."
"Oh, is that so? Well, in our native tongue I guess that makes you a insufferable asshole."
Blair bit back a smile. Perhaps Vanessa was not as bad as she had initially thought, though her wit and their shared distaste for Chuck's womanizing attitude hardly excused her rastafarian wardrobe. What was up with that, anyway?
"Blair," Vanessa addressed the other girl as if she were her mother or something, and Blair went straight back to disliking her. "I put out some clothes for you to change into on my bed." Blair's lack of enthusiasm didn't go unnoticed so Vanessa was quick to add on, "Don't worry. It's not mine. Just some things leftover from the royal family." The brunette perked at this thought, quickly climbing to her feet and then turning back to look at Chuck.
"This has been fun, Chuck. We should do it more often. Except... not." With that she practically skipped into the next room, shutting the door behind her and in the prince's face.
Blair found herself being fitted into an old yet strangely comfortable brown lace dress with a white petticoat underneath and a matching brown brocade capelet of sorts which draped to the side in order to be attached at the shoulder by a rather large ornate button. It truly wasn't as bad as she had imagined and in fact she found the clothes quite suiting and not too different from what she would have normally worn back home.
As she made her way downstairs into the tiny kitchen, she was initially surprised to find Nathaniel already at the table. However, now that she thought about it, she really shouldn't have been. Throughout the duration of their travels Nathaniel had always been early to rise, she realized. What was surprising was that she didn't even notice that he hadn't been upstairs with the rest of them.
Blair opened her mouth to speak but before she was able to utter some awkward salutation Daniel had approached her, placing his hand on her elbow in order to turn her to face him. "Hey, Blair, there's something I need to tell you, about today, and the assembly... now that you know I'm from Alexandria."
"Um, okay." Blair shrugged nonchalantly, looking at the scribe expectantly. Daniel scratched the back of his head nervously.
"So, my dad's going to be at the assembly today."
"What?" Blair broke out into a smile, "I get to meet your dad? Parents love me, you know, they're always saying that they wish their own kids could be more like me." The girl sighed. "Wait. Why didn't you tell me this sooner? Does Chuck know? He must not... otherwise he wouldn't have such a stick up his ass over the assembly. If your dad's going to be there we've totally got this."
"Whoa, whoa, slow down." Dan held up both hands defensively. "I didn't know if I should tell you because I didn't want you to get your hopes up, okay? So... don't. Get your hopes up, that is." He sighed. "I didn't tell you before because I didn't even know until last night. My dad isn't a representative, at least... it's not his day job. He lives in a village about two hours away with my sister-"
"You have a sister!?"
"Another time, Blair." Daniel looked at her pleadingly and she allowed him to persist. "Anyway, the guy they normally send as a representative fell ill so somehow my father ended up getting nominated as the last-minute replacement. I didn't even know because, well, my dad doesn't even know that I'm here. He wrote to Vanessa to tell her he'd be in town so I found out from her just last night."
" I see." Blair eyed him meticulously. It would seem as though there was a lot she didn't know about Daniel Humphrey; he appeared to be more than just the simple boy she had taken him for in the beginning. "Why didn't you tell your father you were going to be in Alexandria?"
"Well, as you may have noticed last night... a lot of people from home... from here, aren't too happy with my career choices." He shrugged, as if this didn't really affect him but Blair knew better. Her relationship with her own mother was distant at best and despite her efforts to appear nonchalant the truth was that nothing really mattered more than her mother's approval. "Look, I'm going to wait here with Vanessa while you and Chuck take care of the delegation." He explained. "I hope you understand."
"Believe me, nobody understands the tumultuous non-relationship between parent and offspring like I do." Blair reassured him. At that moment Chuck came clamoring down the stairs and Blair noticed that he too had changed out of his traditional red coat and into a more modest tan tail coat with gold brocade stitching. He approached the pair impatiently.
"The congress starts in an hour. Are you ready? I'll need you. For back-up, that is."
"Back-up. Right." Blair narrowed her eyes but nodded along anyway, following Chuck out the door and throwing one more cautious glance over her shoulder at Daniel as they left.
Blair, Chuck, and Nathaniel waited awkwardly in the foyer of the small stone building that served as the representatives' gathered meeting place. The building had no visible decor or furnishings save for three long tables which lined the walls of the inner chamber and the twelve wooden seats alongside them. A languid and gawky young man with an unfortunate complexion who appeared just a few years younger than the three teenagers stood beside them with his ear pressed against the door which lead into the inner sanctum. He kept looking back at the trio tensely, as if their mere presence was the worst of inconveniences. Finally, having heard whatever confirmation he needed, the boy stepped away from the door and put his hand on the knob before beckoning them to follow as he opened the door and led them into the chamber.
"G-g-good S-sirs," The awkward boy stuttered, bowing quickly and clumsily as he did so. "Prince Charles Bartholomew Bass of Dalmasca requests an audience." At this the men (yes, all men) that were gathered around the room instantly broke into a bout of hurried whispers, all while casting curious glances at Chuck and even more of such looks towards the girl who accompanied the prince. At the head of the table facing them sat a man relatively younger than the rest gathered there, however his chiseled features and stoic disposition hinted at an age well beyond his physical years. His dirty-blonde hair swept back to reveal a high forehead and piercing grey oculars. Interestingly enough, he was the only one not to move an inch at the young boy's announcement. It was as if he were not at all surprised by their arrival. The blonde slowly glanced to the representatives on his right, all of which nodded enthusiastically as if they were so desperate to know what would bring a Dalmascan prince to their humble land. He turned to the the representatives on his left and they followed in suit.
"Permission granted." The blonde man nodded at the awkward boy, who quickly and rather frantically excused himself as he hurried out of the room and slammed the door shut behind them. The blonde man gestured towards Chuck. "The floor is yours, your highness." He uttered the title without admiration and yet without contempt all the same. Chuck cleared his throat, taking a few steps towards the representatives and into the middle of the room so that he was able to address all sides equally.
"I will be brief." He reassured them. "I'm sure many of you have your suspicions as to why I am here... and you are most entitled to have such." He paused, glancing down at the floor for a moment. "I am here to ask for Alexandria's allegiance against the Zaibach Empire." At this the room ignited in harsh whispers; some sounded supportive while others appeared nearly insulted. The blonde man held a tight but amused smile.
"What makes you think that Alexandria would be interested in getting involved in the politics of two rival kingdoms?" The blonde man inquired, folding his hands and looking at Chuck expectantly; challengingly.
"This is no longer a mere rivalry." Chuck rebuked. "You have all read the prophecy, you know that we are on the brink of war. A war that concerns all of us, every living being in Astoria." His voice rose in earnest. "The Ivalicians have already agreed to join our efforts. All we need now is the support of Alexandria. Three against one. Zaibach would finally be quelled."
"I've heard rumors that you were quite the presumptuous prince and now I see that it is true." The blonde stood up, placing his palms flat on the table. "You have no idea who you are dealing with. The Zaibach Empire will never be quelled." The blonde shook his head seriously, "3 against 1 means nothing to a kingdom with a military ammunitions count higher than that of its population."
"Zaibach wants you to be intimidated by numbers, by their technology because they know... they know that if the other three kingdoms are united, they will lose. It's all there, in the prophecy of the first four." Chuck was now becoming heated himself, his rationale cracking under the pressure. "We have Ivalice. We have the girl," He nodded to Blair, and at the mention of her title several of the men rose from their chairs, leaned to the side, or pushed their bifocals up their nose to get a better view of her. "All we need is Alexandria."
"Do not," The blonde practically growled, "Do not condescend me on the matters of The Zaibach Empire!" He barked. "I sit here in this seat today because I was there, ten years ago, during the raid. I witnessed the fire, the homes destroyed, families slaughtered, women raped, my own parents killed by their soldiers while you were a mere child sleepingly comfortably and contentedly in your palace!" He spit the words venomously, "So don't you dare speak to me about intimidation. I find your presence here insulting, Prince." He sank back down in his seat, taking a breath. "The very thought that you should require us to subject our people and our families through the same torment we already experienced firsthand ten years ago... well, I will hear nothing more of it."
"Well." Chuck stammered. "I'm sorry to have insulted you. However, the last time I checked Alexandria was no longer a monarchy." He glanced at the other representatives, at their bewildered and ignited expressions.
"How dare you," The blonde snapped, "Get out! Get out, now!" He barked it with such ferocity that of their own accord Blair's feet began to take tiny steps backwards towards the door.
"Wait!" One of the other representatives stood up from his seat, "Lord Marcus," He looked at the blonde in earnest. "The prince has brought up a good point. I, for one, would like to hear more." This man was considerably older than the blonde, most likely in his late forties with scruffy and dark disheveled hair. He sat at the very end of the table on the right, appearing as somewhat of an outsider amongst the group. He needn't even make an introduction. It was all so obvious; it had to be Rufus Humphrey. "I would like to suggest we take a recess." The man spoke to the whole of the room, "Perhaps take some time to collect both ourselves and our emotions before considering the issue any further."
"I second the movement." The elderly gentleman beside him raised his hand tentatively, followed by several of the other representatives as a chorus of "aye"s filled the room. Marcus, as it were, had no choice but to concede. Majority rules.
As soon as the representatives filed out Blair was quick to seek out the raven-haired man who had spoken in their favor. When she finally found him he was talking rather enthusiastically with two elderly men, gesturing theatrically with his hands.
"Excuse me, Mr. Humphrey?" Blair prompted from behind. The man stopped mid-sentence, glancing over his shoulder. At the sight of her he quickly turned around, taking her hand in his and shaking it vigorously.
"Rufus. At your service," He smiled. "So you're the girl... Wow. You know, I always believed in the prophecy, personally. I'm a firm believer in that you have to have something to believe in. Life would be a lot more difficult otherwise."
"Oh. Wow. That's nice." Blair nodded. She really had no idea what he meant by that, but it sounded pretty fatherly. "I just wanted to thank you, so much, for giving us a chance in there."
"Well, everyone deserves a first chance, not to mention a second." Rufus agreed, placing his hands on his hips. He paused, the smile faltering a little. "My wife died in the attack. Ten years ago." He explained. "There are many people, like Lord Marcus, who believe that in order to prevent that from happening again we have to remove ourselves from the situation. I think its cowardly." Once again Blair was left to silently nod as he went off on his rather long tirade, "At the end of the day, the threat is still out there. I would feel safer with that threat gone for good. I have a family, you know. A boy and a girl."
"Oh, I know." Blair piped up, to which Rufus stared at her strangely. Blair bit her lip, "I'm probably not supposed to tell you this, but... I know your son." Yes, Daniel would probably not be very pleased with her but it was the least she could do to rectify their situation.
"Oh, you know Daniel?" Rufus was beside himself. "I've been so worried about him... he hasn't talked to me in almost a year, he just... he stopped writing. Well, not in general. You must know he's a writer, a very talented one at that. He just stopped writing to me." Rufus shrugged, "I guess at some point they all do move on and they don't need their parents anymore." He sighed. "How is he?"
"Actually, he's here." Yes, Daniel would definitelynot be happy.
"Here," Rufus repeated, pointing to the ground, "in Alexandria? Why didn't he-"
"I think that's something you should ask him for yourself. Later." Rufus was beginning to get sidetracked and Blair needed to put him back on track with his righteous ranting. "Look, about Daniel, he's here with us because he supports what we're doing. In fact, he's writing about it because we are going to make history, Mr. Humphrey." Blair took his hand in hers, pouting ever so slightly in the way she used to around her own father in order to get her way. "We just need a little help. A little shove in the right direction." Rufus nodded along, eating up her every earnest word.
"I'll see what I can do." Rufus reassured her. "It may not be much, I'm fairly new to all of this. However, I think you've really managed to strike a chord with many of the elder representatives." He and Blair both turned to glance at the senior reps huddled in small groups, conversing with more vivacity than they had probably experienced in quite some time. Rufus watched them with a mixture respect and admiration while Blair simply wrinkled her nose in disgust at the idea of any of evoking anything in these crotchety old men. It was then that the recess was brought to an end by the blowing of the tribunal horn (not suggestive at all, in Blair's mind); to which the representatives slowly began to huddle in line to re-enter the chamber room. "It's probably best if you and your escorts wait here." Rufus suggested, gesturing to the now desolate foyer. "I'll let you know what their ruling is as soon as I find out." He patted her on the shoulder before running to shut the door behind him as he entered the meeting room. Blair watched him go with apprehension before glancing down to her shoulder and giving it a quick dusting.
Chuck and Nathaniel were waiting by the exit door, conversing in their usual language of whispers with sullen and disappointed expressions. The logical thing to do would have been to provide the boys with a note of reassurance and divulge bits of her recent conversation with Rufus. However, seeing as to how both boys had managed to simultaneously irritate and embarrass her within the past 72 hours, she thought she would let them suffer a little longer and kept quiet for the duration of the congress' meeting.
Rufus Humphrey would have made for a poor poker player. His every emotion seemed to be always so clearly written across his face, like the type of book that you would be right to judge by its cover. Thus when he emerged rather hurriedly through the chamber door with an undoubtedly ecstatic grin, Blair eagerly rushed to his side with a wave of relief.
"You did it?" Blair asked, holding onto the elder man's arm, "You convinced them to side with us?"
"Yes! Well," Rufus paused, tilting his head to the side, "Not quite." Blair's grip on his arm suddenly tightened and the man flinched in response, wrangling it away from the girl, "B-b-but," He reasoned, holding up a hand as if to ward off the Waldorf, "I got them to agree to allow you to present your case again. This time in full and without interruption, at tomorrow's assembly."
Another thing to know about Rufus Humphrey - he got excessively excited over the tiniest accomplishments. Nonetheless it was a step forward, at least Nathaniel was able to recognize that much.
"This is a good thing." The knight smiled in an effort to bolster some sort of enthusiasm in the otherwise droll prince.
"No, really?" Blair folded her arms, rolling her eyes somewhat belligerently at the fair-haired boy.
"Nathaniel's right." Chuck conceded, forcing an amiable albeit hesitant smile towards Rufus. You could tell it pained the prince to extend his gratitude towards a commoner like Mr. Humphrey, but he did such anyway and with grace. "I cannot thank you enough for your efforts, Mr. Humphrey."
"Oh, I know of a way." Rufus grinned, to which Chuck's forced smile dropped completely.
"Pardon?"
"Well, we should all go celebrate." Rufus suggested, as if it were the most obvious thing, throwing an arm around both Chuck and Blair as he did so, "To the local tavern! The first round will be on you, your highness!"
"What?" Blair was about to lose it.
"All of us?" Chuck repeated, "Together? You... and us?"
There was a mental conversation that took place back and forth between Blair and Chuck, unknown to the rest of the world. Her eyes were pleading to his pleasemakeitstop, pleasemakeitstop, and his in return were saying in a rather frustrated tone i'mtrying,woman!. Neither of them could make it stop. Rufus Humphrey dragged the lot of them all the way to the local pub in a manner which made all three teenagers rather thankful for their emotionally distant parental figures.
Vanessa Abrams twirled a stray dark curl around her finger, releasing it and watching with avid interest as the ringlet sprung upwards in motion. After a good two hours worth of Daniel's drunken tirade regarding his family woes, even her own hair was starting to become a topic of interest. The two of them sat at the bar of the local tavern. Well, technically he was at it, slumped over the bar with his third mug of ale in hand, while Vanessa reclined behind the bar, debating whether to stop him now or after the fourth she knew he would insist.
"Look, I know that not only as a barmaid but also as your best friend I have the dual obligation to listen to your problems, Daniel, but..." Vanessa sighed, taking a moment to figure out how to most politely phrase the fact that he needed to shut up. It turned out that a moment was all she needed, as Rufus Humphrey burst into the bar with the three other teenagers in tow. Vanessa raised in her eyebrows in surprise, looking in alarm at Daniel.
"But?" Daniel repeatedly drunkenly, "But, what?"
"Um," Vanessa scratched her ear nervously and distracted herself by searching for four clean mugs. "Nothing, it's just-"
"Vanessa!" Rufus exclaimed loudly, "I need four ales. In fact, make it five! It wouldn't be a party worth having without you."
"Of course, Rufus, but I think we're going to have to make it six." Vanessa nodded to the slumped figure at the bar, and in response Dan awkwardly glanced over his shoulder.
"Dad?"
"Daniel." Rufus looked at the younger boy in surprise while Blair took a moment to appreciate their physical likeliness.
"Dad." The boy repeated awkwardly, sliding out of his seat at the bar and slowly approaching Rufus. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't-"
"I'm sorry." Rufus interrupted. "If I made you feel like I wasn't proud of anything and everything you've done." He placed a hand supportively on his son's shoulder, "You're going to be a part of history, Daniel. I could not possibly feel more accomplished as a parent for raising you."
"Dad, I-" The scribe, despite his knack for expression, found himself at a loss for words.
"You don't have to say anything else." Rufus reassured him, swinging an arm across the boy's shoulders before turning to face the other kids, "Time is precious, son. We would waste what little of it we have on earth with regrets. It's best to live in the now." He smiled light-heartedly. "So, how about that round?"
They were all very well into their drinks that night, most of them on their fourth or fifth pint, save for Blair who deemed herself too lady like for ale and instead was nursing her third glass of chardonnay. Perhaps it was the dizzying effect of alcohol, but it truly felt as though it were the first time that they had all been together like this, without any mounting tensions or awkward moments. The boys were joking around with one another, even her and Vanessa had managed to have a civil conversation or two. There was a band regaling the pub patrons in the corner with a set of rather primitive looking wind, string and percussion instruments. Their gaelic melodies weren't anything like the synthesized harmonies Blair usually encountered in the upscale Manhattan lounges that Serena had often dragged her to, but she found herself unable to stop from nodding her head along accordingly.
"Enjoying yourself?" Chuck leaned over, drink in hand and eyebrows raised. Blair glanced past him at his former source of conversation; Nathaniel, and found the soldier attentively listening to the raven-haired barmaid, deeply engrossed in their conversation. She felt obligated to feel the twinge of irk and annoyance which passed through her but the alcohol lubricated her emotions so well that the negatives feelings slid off of her as quickly as they had come. When she glanced back at the anxious prince, she thought it best to regain her composure, sitting up straight and folding her hands into her lap. It didn't go unnoticed. "Don't tell me you're embarrassed?" He chuckled, invading her space even more.
"I'm not, I just had a head twitch." Blair insisted, taking a sip of her wine, pinky extended in an effort to appear as classy as she believed she was. "I don't even know this song."
"Neither do I, but I know that you like it." Chuck grinned mischievously, "Don't hold yourself back on my account."
"Believe me, I'm not." Blair nodded, but she could see from that frustrated glint in his eyes that he did not believe her for a second. Blair set her goblet down in frustration, "I never hold back." Blair guaranteed him, rising out of her seat and staring down at the boy for a brief second before sauntering past him and up to the dimply lit corner where the musicians were set up. She kicked off her shoes and gracefully clamored a top an empty wooden table, swaying her hips lightly to the primitive rhythm. While doing such she had managed to slowly amass the attention of several of the other tables around her, and though Blair was by no means an amazing dancer, she enthralled the lot of them anyway. The girl had an alarming innocence about her, and by placing herself upon this pedestal she was exposing her youth and her virtue to the world; all in step and in tune to the enchanting harmonies of an old Alexandrian folk song.
Chuck Bass had never wanted to tarnish something so badly. As quickly as the thought occurred he was quick to reprimand himself for it, banishing the idea to the back of his brain. Sure, he gave Blair a hard time and he had acted quite reproachfully towards her in the past, but she was an attractive girl. Beautiful, actually. That much he would admit to himself. He had done many a perversive deed in the past, but such were done with harlots. Harem girls. Psychotic princesses. Blair Waldorf was above all that. She was above every dark and sickening thought in his mind.
The same went for every lecherous cretin in the room. Chuck pried his eyes away from the girl in response to the stifled laughter of the table behind him. He listened with a determined curiosity at the tasteless hounds, howling away at her expense.
"How many more drinks do you think that one would need before she's out cold and in my bed?"
"They're always out cold when they go home with you!"
"It just makes it easier for me to do all the things I'm going to do to her when I-"
"Shut. Up." He wasn't quite sure how it happened, but Chuck had ended up directly behind them, leering over their shoulders with an expression of distaste.
"An' who the hell are you, runt?" Every pack had its alpha-dog and this one lived up to his title. Mostly beef, hardly any brains, with a mass of beer stains streaming down the front of his shirt. Had she been drunk beyond belief, Chuck still believed that Blair would have the sense to stay away from that one.
"I'm-" Chuck opened his mouth, but found himself drawing a blank. How many times had he introduced himself as the prince of Dalmasca? Not only was he tired of it, but it was irrelevant. "Doesn't matter." He reassured the slovenly man. "You will not talk about her that way."
"Oh, is that so?"
"As a matter of fact it is." Chuck replied simply, narrowing his eyes. "In addition, don't even dare to look at her. Don't even think about her."
"I'm thinking about her right now," At this point, he was simply egging the fair-skinned boy on further as he spoke, "I'm thinking about how I'm going to take her back to my place, rip that little dress to shreds and-"
He was interrupted by a loud crack; the sound of Chuck's fist making contact with his lower jaw. The sound was unfortunately more intimidating than the force itself. Chuck grabbed his gloved hand in pain, "Fuck," the prince breathed, looking up at the physically unaffected but emotionally enraged man.
"You little shit," He reached behind him for an empty glass pitcher on the table, twirling it around menancingly in his hand before hurling it directly at Chuck's head. The prince ducked not a second too soon and the glass shattered as it hit the wall behind him, bouncing little flecks of glass off the back of his head. If that call wasn't close enough the burly gent had resorted to using his bare hands and would have had them wrung around Chuck's neck had it not been for Nathaniel leaping up in record speed, grabbing his own seat and swinging it mercilessly against the offender's head. It was then that all hell broke loose.
The large man crumpled to the ground and several of his co-horts jumped up to take his place and help him to the feet. Red liquid poured from a wound in the man's head and at the realization of this he aggressively stumbled back to his feet.
"You want to mess with him, you're going to have to go through me." Nathaniel withdrew his sword, swinging it expertly at the crowd, though it did nothing to deter the reckless thugs who approached him without hesitance. The two boys exchanged a look of mutual understanding and brotherly affection just before Nate quickly instructed that the prince, "get the hell out of here," and turned his attention back on the ensuing mob. He slashed his sword through the air easily, blocking and deterring all the flying debris directed being directed towards Chuck and himself. Daniel kicked his chair over, breaking off a wooden leg and wielding it as club which he tossed with great effort into the chaotic crowd just before ducking behind the table which his father had flipped over and was now taking cover behind.
Chuck darted his way around drunken adversaries and the resulting carnage, racing up towards the table where Blair was standing and screaming in panic. "Are you brain dead, Chuck? What were you thinking!? What did you do!?" Blair ran a hand through her hair, "We're going to die."
"Blair!" Chuck yelled, reaching for her hand and pulling her down quickly, roughly, and into his arms. He steadied her by placing a hand on either side of her head. "Blair! Blair. Shut up." He breathed. "We are not going to die."
Blair nodded slowly, and the sudden realization brought a bemused grin to her face. "Of course not." The girl giggled drunkenly, placing her hands over his. Her laugh was infectious, and Chuck found himself smiling stupidly in response, up until a glass shattered right above their heads.
"Come on!" Chuck yelled, grabbing Blair by the hand and quickly running towards the nearest exit. They broke out of the tavern and into the crisp, cool night dotted by light rain and mist. Glancing over his shoulder Chuck could see a few of the blokes from the bar trailing after them in hot pursuit so he pushed forward, pulling Blair along with him as they ran through damp grass and over slippery hills. Time appeared so irrelevant that he lost track of it; he didn't know how long they had been running or how far or if they were even still being followed. The thing that made him realize the extent of their travels was the sight of their black carriage parked beside a lone willow. "In here," Chuck suggested, leading them quickly to the edge of the forest and quietly piling inside of the stationary vehicle. From behind they could hear the angry rustle of branches and leaves, sloppy and impatient footsteps belonging to men who wanted to punch a particular prince. "Shh," Chuck quietly shut the door behind them and they crouched down in the tiny gap of floor in between the two facing seats. It was a particularly uncomfortable silence for the two of them in that little spot. Chuck's back was pressed up against the door and his feet were opened wide to accommodate Blair, who was stuck in between them with an arm on either side of his hips. They looked at almost everything but each other in those tense few minutes as the footsteps rushed past them and then faded into the night, the sound becoming nothing more than a distant pitter-patter not too unlike the sprinkling rain.
"I think they're gone." Blair whispered, being the first to break the silence with her amused smile. Look at them here, damp, drunk, and hiding on the floor of a carriage from a group of miscreants from a bar fight started because she was dancing on top of a table. It was all so far-fetched and ridiculous that she could not help but to chuckle at the thought.
"What? What's so funny?" Chuck whispered, running a hand through his hair to push the dark, wet strands away from his face.
"Nothing." Blair shook her head, "I was just thinking... what if my mother could see me now. What would she think?"
"I don't know, what would she think?" Chuck inquired, watching as the brunette's eyes darkened at the thought.
"That I was up to no good." Blair replied seriously, though she was unable to stifle her drunken giggles long and eventually broke into a careless grin. Chuck smiled in response. A genuine smile. A smile which illustrated just how enthralling he found her girlish innocence, how strange it was that she could laugh at a time like this when she had never been one to laugh at all before. He could feel the breath of such laughter tickling his chest, and then suddenly it was not so funny. He felt tense once more, even knowing that they were out of harm's way. "Oh, Chuck." Blair's concern brought him out of his reverie, "You're bleeding," She raised her hand to his forehead and he felt a stinging sensation that had been gone unnoticed up until that moment.
"It's just a scratch," Chuck reassured her, attempting to disentangle himself from her clutches, "Probably from a branch, or a flying glass pitcher. It's nothing."
"It's not nothing." Blair whispered sadly, forcing him to sit still as she fussed over the scrape, sitting on her knees in order to get a better look at it. Chuck fumed internally, uncomfortably. "You defended my honor." Blair stated matter of factly, "It's not... nothing." She frowned suddenly, looking down at the boy. "Why did you do that, exactly?"
"I..." Chuck swallowed his loss for words, lifting his head to look up and meet her beckoning stare. "I," Chuck began in a quiet whisper. The truth was, he really wasn't sure himself. He had lost track of time and of everything that had happened between hitting that man and him sitting here now with Blair because he had been lost in his thoughts trying to figure out the answer to that exact question. Blair's hand trailed from the scratch on his head, lightly down the side of his face in a way that seemed to lull the answer right out of him, though it remained unspoken. A shared understanding passed through them; the understanding that to speak, to try to put into words why he did what he did would only undermine his actions. It would have only served to ruin an otherwise inevitable moment.
Both of Blair's hands came to rest at the base of his neck, tugging gently at his collar. As if nothing seemed more right in the world, she lowered her lips to capture his in a tentative gesture. His hands snaked their way around her waist, sweeping against the fabric of her dress and guiding her closer to him to the point where she was essentially sitting in his lap. The girl pulled away slowly, biting her lip in an uncertainty that was slowly coaxed away by the way his hands hovered against the small of her back.
"Are you sure?" It was so quiet a whisper, and so uncharacteristic a gesture, that she almost didn't hear it and would not have heard it had the night been any less silent than it already was. Now it was Blair's turn to answer without speaking, and she did such by returning her lips to his, eyes fluttering shut in the process. He reciprocated the gesture, deepening the kiss to a point of heated and unmatchable desire. His hands trailed up the back of her dress, barely fumbling with the zipper as he expertly tugged it downwards. Without breaking contact his hands continued to peel the wet lace garment from her body, until it pooled at her hips and revealed the cool silk slip underneath. His hands grasped at the soft material greedily, particularly the flimsy straps which slid down her shoulder, exposing a patch of bare skin at her nape which he eagerly made himself familiar with by trailing an array of light kisses from under her ear to the hollow of her throat. Blair found herself fumbling with the buttons of the blouse underneath his waistcoat, halfway through giving up on her attempts all-together and returning her attention to his lips, his cheeks, and his chestnut hair. All things which weeks ago, no, even days ago she had held high in contempt but now she wished never to part from. It was if with every torturous, bruising kiss Chuck Bass was burning a part of himself into her in such a way she knew that no other boy or man would be able to erase his lingering presence.
With little effort he lifted her, moving her with him as he slide up and onto the cushioned seat behind them. His hands held onto her hips firmly, reassuringly as she pressed herself up against him in a mixture of rapture and trepidation.
Ever since the attack on Alexandria, nights in the meadow sang of a silent stillness. It was reported that that night, well after the violent stragglers had made their way home from the local tavern, for the first time in ten years the forest sprung to life in a harmony of wind and wood. A melodic orchestra of sorts that had not been heard since Alexandria last held a monarch.
Oh. My. God.
Blair blinked twice, eyeing the sleeping prince with scrutiny and disbelief. No, no, no... The daylight was absolutely dizzying, to the point that Blair wondered (wished) that it may have been playing tricks on her. Surely, she was not half-naked, dressed in nothing more than Alexandrian table scraps and surely that was not the prince snoring ungracefully, shirt ripped half open and pants halfway down his legs. Naturally, she feared the worst.
"Oh my god." Blair gasped, searching for the remnants of her dress in a panic, all whilst wondering does it even count if you lose your virginity to a boy who only exists inside of a book? Surely, it shouldn't, because even the idea of allowing the lecherous prince to be her first was humiliating enough to process in this fictitious reality as it was. Never again, Blair swore, would she ever succumb to the intoxicating effects of inebriation.
She quickly picked up the remains of her dress with the plan in mind to exit the chariot before Chuck woke up, without the boy knowing any wiser. Perhaps he would just assume he had brought back some local floozy; surely the thought of sleeping with her would be the last possible option to cross his mind. Whatever miniscule chance she had at leaving the carriage unscathed flew out the window once someone from outside had started shouting the prince's name.
Chuck stirred, rolling over in his half-woken state and furrowing his brow at the sight of Blair, dress in one hand and door handle in the other. "Where... are you going?" He drawled sleepily, raising a leg to block her attempt to leave. Blair froze, sinking back down onto the seat opposite of him.
"This isn't what it looks like." Blair insisted, holding her hands up innocently. Chuck looked at her, perplexed. "We just fell asleep," Blair explained, "And apparently our clothes were wet." How that happened, Blair wasn't quite sure. Had it been raining?
"Oh." Chuck pushed himself to a sitting position, leaning forward and looking up at the girl, "So... what you're saying is that the distinct sound of you purring in my ear while I thrust my-"
"Chuck!" Blair snapped, quickly interrupting him. The boy smirked.
"So you're saying that was all just a dream?" He inquired knowingly. Blair said nothing, simply gulped in response. "Nice try, Waldorf."
"You won't... tell anyone, right?" Blair asked quietly, holding her dress tightly against her. "Because... I'll have to kill you, if you do."
"I don't see why you should be so concerned with anyone knowing," Chuck began, "But... if that's what you want." He placed a hand under her chin, "It'll be our little secret."
Blair quickly swatted his hand away, rolling her eyes as she turned around. "I'm going to put my dress back on. Please don't watch."
"I've already seen you take it off."
"Never happened."
Blair slid an arm into each sleeve, reaching around to zip up the back herself, despite Chuck's movement to help. The girl kept her distance, eyeing him scrupulously. "I think someone's out there, looking for us." Blair mumbled, peering out the window, "You should probably leave first. I'll wait five minutes, then follow..." When she glanced back over her shoulder she found the carriage door wide open, and no prince in sight.
Chuck slowly walked through the rolling grass of the meadow the carriage was parked in, with his jacket casually swung over his shoulder. In the distance he could see a mounted rider coming towards him, and as the horse neared he saw that its rider was indeed calling out for him.
"Chuck!" The horse sprinted and then skidded to a halt in front of the prince, who looked as surprised and alarmed as one ought to be when a rider so impatiently approaches you. The sun blinded the stranger's face from his view until he hopped off, gasping for breath, "Chuck-"
It was Aaron Rose.
The artist looked up at the other boy painfully. His clothes were sooted, his brow sweaty, as if he had riden here from Ivalice for two days straight without stopping. Chuck realized that was probably what the boy had done, and if such was the case... for the boy to come find him with such imminence... it could only mean one thing.
"Chuck... it's about your father."
TO BE CONTINUED...
PART ONE: THE END.
SONG:
Halou - Ratio of Freckles to the Stars - Blair & Chuck In the Carriage.
A/N: So, what does 'end of part one' mean? It means that you can think of this chapter as the last episode before the winter hiatus. It's sort of a half-way point although that does not mean that there will be 10 more chapters. I'm expecting anywhere between five to six more. As you can tell by the ending, the pace is going to change hence the 'parts'. Thus, it is going to take even longer than usual (although is there a usual with me? I don't think so) to get the next chapter up. However, in the mean time you can look forward to an extensive fan-art post based on this fic, all of the songs featured reuploaded (and if you haven't heard the song for this chapter you must definitely download it), AND the first chapter of the next CB AU fic I'm writing which is going to be much darker than this piece. I won't reveal anything else. Thanks so much for your feedback & reviews, it definitely motivates me to continue forward with this fic! It is very much appreciated.
Author: In Fair Verona
Genre: Romance + Adventure
Pairing: CBN
Rating: T
Summary: Blair Waldorf never believed in fairy-tales. However, weeks after her best friend left for boarding school, Blair finds herself enthralled by the pages of an old book, and is thrown in the midst of a strange new world, at the center of a war, and in between a prince and a knight.
PROLOGUE | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9
There was something very heavy resting upon her shoulders. Had this been a metaphorical dream, which it very may well have been, Blair would have suspected that this weight represented the Atlas-like pressure she was facing to save Astoria from utter destruction and domination. However, when the sunlight filtered in through the small room's window, rousing the girl from her sleep, Blair realized that dream or no dream, metaphor or not, there was something literally quite heavy on her.
It was Chuck's arm.
"What?" The girl jolted upwards, and in her panic she rather violently knocked the prince's hand away. He appeared hardly affected though he did begin to wake from his drowsy stupor, yawning and rolling onto his back.
"What's got your knickers in a twist?" Chuck mumbled, eyes fluttering open as he stared up at her. He smiled suddenly and devilishly, "Have a nice dream? Was I in it?"
"If you were it would have been a nightmare." Blair retorted, self-conscienciously patting her curly coif. Sleeping on the floor had been most uncomfortable and she could only imagine what kind of awful strain of bed-head it must have given her. "Chuck Bass. Even in your sub-conscience you cannot keep your hands to yourself."
"It's a gift and a curse." Chuck drawled helplessly, staring up at the ceiling. Blair had been so tired after their hike back from the ruins that she had hardly noticed the prince's preferred sleepwear. Silk pajamas. Really. Red silk, at that. "See something you like?" Chuck inquired, pushing himself into a sitting position and arching his eyebrow at her.
Blair flinched, sending him a look she hoped would convey her repulsion. "Do these feeble attempts at flirting actually work with most women?"
"You think I actually have to flirt to get with most women?" Chuck replied, "It really doesn't require so much effort."
"Oh, right, I forgot. You just flick your wrist and they come crawling." Blair forced a smile. "How charming." Chuck opened his mouth to reply but someone else had already had enough of their pillow talk and the evidence was in the pillow that suddenly thwacked him in the face.
"Honestly, can you two shut it for five seconds?" Daniel groaned into the floor, rolling over onto his side and yanking his sheet above his head.
"Oh right, like the rest of us don't have to listen to you and that raven-haired wench fawn all over each other." Chuck scoffed, though he was silenced by a shadow looming over him.
"What did you call me?" Vanessa Abrams, fully dressed, and having probably been awake for quite some time now, glared down at the boy while tapping her foot impatiently.
"Raven-haired wench." Chuck enunciated, "It's actually a term of endearment in my kingdom."
"Oh, is that so? Well, in our native tongue I guess that makes you a insufferable asshole."
Blair bit back a smile. Perhaps Vanessa was not as bad as she had initially thought, though her wit and their shared distaste for Chuck's womanizing attitude hardly excused her rastafarian wardrobe. What was up with that, anyway?
"Blair," Vanessa addressed the other girl as if she were her mother or something, and Blair went straight back to disliking her. "I put out some clothes for you to change into on my bed." Blair's lack of enthusiasm didn't go unnoticed so Vanessa was quick to add on, "Don't worry. It's not mine. Just some things leftover from the royal family." The brunette perked at this thought, quickly climbing to her feet and then turning back to look at Chuck.
"This has been fun, Chuck. We should do it more often. Except... not." With that she practically skipped into the next room, shutting the door behind her and in the prince's face.
Blair found herself being fitted into an old yet strangely comfortable brown lace dress with a white petticoat underneath and a matching brown brocade capelet of sorts which draped to the side in order to be attached at the shoulder by a rather large ornate button. It truly wasn't as bad as she had imagined and in fact she found the clothes quite suiting and not too different from what she would have normally worn back home.
As she made her way downstairs into the tiny kitchen, she was initially surprised to find Nathaniel already at the table. However, now that she thought about it, she really shouldn't have been. Throughout the duration of their travels Nathaniel had always been early to rise, she realized. What was surprising was that she didn't even notice that he hadn't been upstairs with the rest of them.
Blair opened her mouth to speak but before she was able to utter some awkward salutation Daniel had approached her, placing his hand on her elbow in order to turn her to face him. "Hey, Blair, there's something I need to tell you, about today, and the assembly... now that you know I'm from Alexandria."
"Um, okay." Blair shrugged nonchalantly, looking at the scribe expectantly. Daniel scratched the back of his head nervously.
"So, my dad's going to be at the assembly today."
"What?" Blair broke out into a smile, "I get to meet your dad? Parents love me, you know, they're always saying that they wish their own kids could be more like me." The girl sighed. "Wait. Why didn't you tell me this sooner? Does Chuck know? He must not... otherwise he wouldn't have such a stick up his ass over the assembly. If your dad's going to be there we've totally got this."
"Whoa, whoa, slow down." Dan held up both hands defensively. "I didn't know if I should tell you because I didn't want you to get your hopes up, okay? So... don't. Get your hopes up, that is." He sighed. "I didn't tell you before because I didn't even know until last night. My dad isn't a representative, at least... it's not his day job. He lives in a village about two hours away with my sister-"
"You have a sister!?"
"Another time, Blair." Daniel looked at her pleadingly and she allowed him to persist. "Anyway, the guy they normally send as a representative fell ill so somehow my father ended up getting nominated as the last-minute replacement. I didn't even know because, well, my dad doesn't even know that I'm here. He wrote to Vanessa to tell her he'd be in town so I found out from her just last night."
" I see." Blair eyed him meticulously. It would seem as though there was a lot she didn't know about Daniel Humphrey; he appeared to be more than just the simple boy she had taken him for in the beginning. "Why didn't you tell your father you were going to be in Alexandria?"
"Well, as you may have noticed last night... a lot of people from home... from here, aren't too happy with my career choices." He shrugged, as if this didn't really affect him but Blair knew better. Her relationship with her own mother was distant at best and despite her efforts to appear nonchalant the truth was that nothing really mattered more than her mother's approval. "Look, I'm going to wait here with Vanessa while you and Chuck take care of the delegation." He explained. "I hope you understand."
"Believe me, nobody understands the tumultuous non-relationship between parent and offspring like I do." Blair reassured him. At that moment Chuck came clamoring down the stairs and Blair noticed that he too had changed out of his traditional red coat and into a more modest tan tail coat with gold brocade stitching. He approached the pair impatiently.
"The congress starts in an hour. Are you ready? I'll need you. For back-up, that is."
"Back-up. Right." Blair narrowed her eyes but nodded along anyway, following Chuck out the door and throwing one more cautious glance over her shoulder at Daniel as they left.
Blair, Chuck, and Nathaniel waited awkwardly in the foyer of the small stone building that served as the representatives' gathered meeting place. The building had no visible decor or furnishings save for three long tables which lined the walls of the inner chamber and the twelve wooden seats alongside them. A languid and gawky young man with an unfortunate complexion who appeared just a few years younger than the three teenagers stood beside them with his ear pressed against the door which lead into the inner sanctum. He kept looking back at the trio tensely, as if their mere presence was the worst of inconveniences. Finally, having heard whatever confirmation he needed, the boy stepped away from the door and put his hand on the knob before beckoning them to follow as he opened the door and led them into the chamber.
"G-g-good S-sirs," The awkward boy stuttered, bowing quickly and clumsily as he did so. "Prince Charles Bartholomew Bass of Dalmasca requests an audience." At this the men (yes, all men) that were gathered around the room instantly broke into a bout of hurried whispers, all while casting curious glances at Chuck and even more of such looks towards the girl who accompanied the prince. At the head of the table facing them sat a man relatively younger than the rest gathered there, however his chiseled features and stoic disposition hinted at an age well beyond his physical years. His dirty-blonde hair swept back to reveal a high forehead and piercing grey oculars. Interestingly enough, he was the only one not to move an inch at the young boy's announcement. It was as if he were not at all surprised by their arrival. The blonde slowly glanced to the representatives on his right, all of which nodded enthusiastically as if they were so desperate to know what would bring a Dalmascan prince to their humble land. He turned to the the representatives on his left and they followed in suit.
"Permission granted." The blonde man nodded at the awkward boy, who quickly and rather frantically excused himself as he hurried out of the room and slammed the door shut behind them. The blonde man gestured towards Chuck. "The floor is yours, your highness." He uttered the title without admiration and yet without contempt all the same. Chuck cleared his throat, taking a few steps towards the representatives and into the middle of the room so that he was able to address all sides equally.
"I will be brief." He reassured them. "I'm sure many of you have your suspicions as to why I am here... and you are most entitled to have such." He paused, glancing down at the floor for a moment. "I am here to ask for Alexandria's allegiance against the Zaibach Empire." At this the room ignited in harsh whispers; some sounded supportive while others appeared nearly insulted. The blonde man held a tight but amused smile.
"What makes you think that Alexandria would be interested in getting involved in the politics of two rival kingdoms?" The blonde man inquired, folding his hands and looking at Chuck expectantly; challengingly.
"This is no longer a mere rivalry." Chuck rebuked. "You have all read the prophecy, you know that we are on the brink of war. A war that concerns all of us, every living being in Astoria." His voice rose in earnest. "The Ivalicians have already agreed to join our efforts. All we need now is the support of Alexandria. Three against one. Zaibach would finally be quelled."
"I've heard rumors that you were quite the presumptuous prince and now I see that it is true." The blonde stood up, placing his palms flat on the table. "You have no idea who you are dealing with. The Zaibach Empire will never be quelled." The blonde shook his head seriously, "3 against 1 means nothing to a kingdom with a military ammunitions count higher than that of its population."
"Zaibach wants you to be intimidated by numbers, by their technology because they know... they know that if the other three kingdoms are united, they will lose. It's all there, in the prophecy of the first four." Chuck was now becoming heated himself, his rationale cracking under the pressure. "We have Ivalice. We have the girl," He nodded to Blair, and at the mention of her title several of the men rose from their chairs, leaned to the side, or pushed their bifocals up their nose to get a better view of her. "All we need is Alexandria."
"Do not," The blonde practically growled, "Do not condescend me on the matters of The Zaibach Empire!" He barked. "I sit here in this seat today because I was there, ten years ago, during the raid. I witnessed the fire, the homes destroyed, families slaughtered, women raped, my own parents killed by their soldiers while you were a mere child sleepingly comfortably and contentedly in your palace!" He spit the words venomously, "So don't you dare speak to me about intimidation. I find your presence here insulting, Prince." He sank back down in his seat, taking a breath. "The very thought that you should require us to subject our people and our families through the same torment we already experienced firsthand ten years ago... well, I will hear nothing more of it."
"Well." Chuck stammered. "I'm sorry to have insulted you. However, the last time I checked Alexandria was no longer a monarchy." He glanced at the other representatives, at their bewildered and ignited expressions.
"How dare you," The blonde snapped, "Get out! Get out, now!" He barked it with such ferocity that of their own accord Blair's feet began to take tiny steps backwards towards the door.
"Wait!" One of the other representatives stood up from his seat, "Lord Marcus," He looked at the blonde in earnest. "The prince has brought up a good point. I, for one, would like to hear more." This man was considerably older than the blonde, most likely in his late forties with scruffy and dark disheveled hair. He sat at the very end of the table on the right, appearing as somewhat of an outsider amongst the group. He needn't even make an introduction. It was all so obvious; it had to be Rufus Humphrey. "I would like to suggest we take a recess." The man spoke to the whole of the room, "Perhaps take some time to collect both ourselves and our emotions before considering the issue any further."
"I second the movement." The elderly gentleman beside him raised his hand tentatively, followed by several of the other representatives as a chorus of "aye"s filled the room. Marcus, as it were, had no choice but to concede. Majority rules.
As soon as the representatives filed out Blair was quick to seek out the raven-haired man who had spoken in their favor. When she finally found him he was talking rather enthusiastically with two elderly men, gesturing theatrically with his hands.
"Excuse me, Mr. Humphrey?" Blair prompted from behind. The man stopped mid-sentence, glancing over his shoulder. At the sight of her he quickly turned around, taking her hand in his and shaking it vigorously.
"Rufus. At your service," He smiled. "So you're the girl... Wow. You know, I always believed in the prophecy, personally. I'm a firm believer in that you have to have something to believe in. Life would be a lot more difficult otherwise."
"Oh. Wow. That's nice." Blair nodded. She really had no idea what he meant by that, but it sounded pretty fatherly. "I just wanted to thank you, so much, for giving us a chance in there."
"Well, everyone deserves a first chance, not to mention a second." Rufus agreed, placing his hands on his hips. He paused, the smile faltering a little. "My wife died in the attack. Ten years ago." He explained. "There are many people, like Lord Marcus, who believe that in order to prevent that from happening again we have to remove ourselves from the situation. I think its cowardly." Once again Blair was left to silently nod as he went off on his rather long tirade, "At the end of the day, the threat is still out there. I would feel safer with that threat gone for good. I have a family, you know. A boy and a girl."
"Oh, I know." Blair piped up, to which Rufus stared at her strangely. Blair bit her lip, "I'm probably not supposed to tell you this, but... I know your son." Yes, Daniel would probably not be very pleased with her but it was the least she could do to rectify their situation.
"Oh, you know Daniel?" Rufus was beside himself. "I've been so worried about him... he hasn't talked to me in almost a year, he just... he stopped writing. Well, not in general. You must know he's a writer, a very talented one at that. He just stopped writing to me." Rufus shrugged, "I guess at some point they all do move on and they don't need their parents anymore." He sighed. "How is he?"
"Actually, he's here." Yes, Daniel would definitelynot be happy.
"Here," Rufus repeated, pointing to the ground, "in Alexandria? Why didn't he-"
"I think that's something you should ask him for yourself. Later." Rufus was beginning to get sidetracked and Blair needed to put him back on track with his righteous ranting. "Look, about Daniel, he's here with us because he supports what we're doing. In fact, he's writing about it because we are going to make history, Mr. Humphrey." Blair took his hand in hers, pouting ever so slightly in the way she used to around her own father in order to get her way. "We just need a little help. A little shove in the right direction." Rufus nodded along, eating up her every earnest word.
"I'll see what I can do." Rufus reassured her. "It may not be much, I'm fairly new to all of this. However, I think you've really managed to strike a chord with many of the elder representatives." He and Blair both turned to glance at the senior reps huddled in small groups, conversing with more vivacity than they had probably experienced in quite some time. Rufus watched them with a mixture respect and admiration while Blair simply wrinkled her nose in disgust at the idea of any of evoking anything in these crotchety old men. It was then that the recess was brought to an end by the blowing of the tribunal horn (not suggestive at all, in Blair's mind); to which the representatives slowly began to huddle in line to re-enter the chamber room. "It's probably best if you and your escorts wait here." Rufus suggested, gesturing to the now desolate foyer. "I'll let you know what their ruling is as soon as I find out." He patted her on the shoulder before running to shut the door behind him as he entered the meeting room. Blair watched him go with apprehension before glancing down to her shoulder and giving it a quick dusting.
Chuck and Nathaniel were waiting by the exit door, conversing in their usual language of whispers with sullen and disappointed expressions. The logical thing to do would have been to provide the boys with a note of reassurance and divulge bits of her recent conversation with Rufus. However, seeing as to how both boys had managed to simultaneously irritate and embarrass her within the past 72 hours, she thought she would let them suffer a little longer and kept quiet for the duration of the congress' meeting.
Rufus Humphrey would have made for a poor poker player. His every emotion seemed to be always so clearly written across his face, like the type of book that you would be right to judge by its cover. Thus when he emerged rather hurriedly through the chamber door with an undoubtedly ecstatic grin, Blair eagerly rushed to his side with a wave of relief.
"You did it?" Blair asked, holding onto the elder man's arm, "You convinced them to side with us?"
"Yes! Well," Rufus paused, tilting his head to the side, "Not quite." Blair's grip on his arm suddenly tightened and the man flinched in response, wrangling it away from the girl, "B-b-but," He reasoned, holding up a hand as if to ward off the Waldorf, "I got them to agree to allow you to present your case again. This time in full and without interruption, at tomorrow's assembly."
Another thing to know about Rufus Humphrey - he got excessively excited over the tiniest accomplishments. Nonetheless it was a step forward, at least Nathaniel was able to recognize that much.
"This is a good thing." The knight smiled in an effort to bolster some sort of enthusiasm in the otherwise droll prince.
"No, really?" Blair folded her arms, rolling her eyes somewhat belligerently at the fair-haired boy.
"Nathaniel's right." Chuck conceded, forcing an amiable albeit hesitant smile towards Rufus. You could tell it pained the prince to extend his gratitude towards a commoner like Mr. Humphrey, but he did such anyway and with grace. "I cannot thank you enough for your efforts, Mr. Humphrey."
"Oh, I know of a way." Rufus grinned, to which Chuck's forced smile dropped completely.
"Pardon?"
"Well, we should all go celebrate." Rufus suggested, as if it were the most obvious thing, throwing an arm around both Chuck and Blair as he did so, "To the local tavern! The first round will be on you, your highness!"
"What?" Blair was about to lose it.
"All of us?" Chuck repeated, "Together? You... and us?"
There was a mental conversation that took place back and forth between Blair and Chuck, unknown to the rest of the world. Her eyes were pleading to his pleasemakeitstop, pleasemakeitstop, and his in return were saying in a rather frustrated tone i'mtrying,woman!. Neither of them could make it stop. Rufus Humphrey dragged the lot of them all the way to the local pub in a manner which made all three teenagers rather thankful for their emotionally distant parental figures.
Vanessa Abrams twirled a stray dark curl around her finger, releasing it and watching with avid interest as the ringlet sprung upwards in motion. After a good two hours worth of Daniel's drunken tirade regarding his family woes, even her own hair was starting to become a topic of interest. The two of them sat at the bar of the local tavern. Well, technically he was at it, slumped over the bar with his third mug of ale in hand, while Vanessa reclined behind the bar, debating whether to stop him now or after the fourth she knew he would insist.
"Look, I know that not only as a barmaid but also as your best friend I have the dual obligation to listen to your problems, Daniel, but..." Vanessa sighed, taking a moment to figure out how to most politely phrase the fact that he needed to shut up. It turned out that a moment was all she needed, as Rufus Humphrey burst into the bar with the three other teenagers in tow. Vanessa raised in her eyebrows in surprise, looking in alarm at Daniel.
"But?" Daniel repeatedly drunkenly, "But, what?"
"Um," Vanessa scratched her ear nervously and distracted herself by searching for four clean mugs. "Nothing, it's just-"
"Vanessa!" Rufus exclaimed loudly, "I need four ales. In fact, make it five! It wouldn't be a party worth having without you."
"Of course, Rufus, but I think we're going to have to make it six." Vanessa nodded to the slumped figure at the bar, and in response Dan awkwardly glanced over his shoulder.
"Dad?"
"Daniel." Rufus looked at the younger boy in surprise while Blair took a moment to appreciate their physical likeliness.
"Dad." The boy repeated awkwardly, sliding out of his seat at the bar and slowly approaching Rufus. "Look, I'm sorry I didn't-"
"I'm sorry." Rufus interrupted. "If I made you feel like I wasn't proud of anything and everything you've done." He placed a hand supportively on his son's shoulder, "You're going to be a part of history, Daniel. I could not possibly feel more accomplished as a parent for raising you."
"Dad, I-" The scribe, despite his knack for expression, found himself at a loss for words.
"You don't have to say anything else." Rufus reassured him, swinging an arm across the boy's shoulders before turning to face the other kids, "Time is precious, son. We would waste what little of it we have on earth with regrets. It's best to live in the now." He smiled light-heartedly. "So, how about that round?"
They were all very well into their drinks that night, most of them on their fourth or fifth pint, save for Blair who deemed herself too lady like for ale and instead was nursing her third glass of chardonnay. Perhaps it was the dizzying effect of alcohol, but it truly felt as though it were the first time that they had all been together like this, without any mounting tensions or awkward moments. The boys were joking around with one another, even her and Vanessa had managed to have a civil conversation or two. There was a band regaling the pub patrons in the corner with a set of rather primitive looking wind, string and percussion instruments. Their gaelic melodies weren't anything like the synthesized harmonies Blair usually encountered in the upscale Manhattan lounges that Serena had often dragged her to, but she found herself unable to stop from nodding her head along accordingly.
"Enjoying yourself?" Chuck leaned over, drink in hand and eyebrows raised. Blair glanced past him at his former source of conversation; Nathaniel, and found the soldier attentively listening to the raven-haired barmaid, deeply engrossed in their conversation. She felt obligated to feel the twinge of irk and annoyance which passed through her but the alcohol lubricated her emotions so well that the negatives feelings slid off of her as quickly as they had come. When she glanced back at the anxious prince, she thought it best to regain her composure, sitting up straight and folding her hands into her lap. It didn't go unnoticed. "Don't tell me you're embarrassed?" He chuckled, invading her space even more.
"I'm not, I just had a head twitch." Blair insisted, taking a sip of her wine, pinky extended in an effort to appear as classy as she believed she was. "I don't even know this song."
"Neither do I, but I know that you like it." Chuck grinned mischievously, "Don't hold yourself back on my account."
"Believe me, I'm not." Blair nodded, but she could see from that frustrated glint in his eyes that he did not believe her for a second. Blair set her goblet down in frustration, "I never hold back." Blair guaranteed him, rising out of her seat and staring down at the boy for a brief second before sauntering past him and up to the dimply lit corner where the musicians were set up. She kicked off her shoes and gracefully clamored a top an empty wooden table, swaying her hips lightly to the primitive rhythm. While doing such she had managed to slowly amass the attention of several of the other tables around her, and though Blair was by no means an amazing dancer, she enthralled the lot of them anyway. The girl had an alarming innocence about her, and by placing herself upon this pedestal she was exposing her youth and her virtue to the world; all in step and in tune to the enchanting harmonies of an old Alexandrian folk song.
Chuck Bass had never wanted to tarnish something so badly. As quickly as the thought occurred he was quick to reprimand himself for it, banishing the idea to the back of his brain. Sure, he gave Blair a hard time and he had acted quite reproachfully towards her in the past, but she was an attractive girl. Beautiful, actually. That much he would admit to himself. He had done many a perversive deed in the past, but such were done with harlots. Harem girls. Psychotic princesses. Blair Waldorf was above all that. She was above every dark and sickening thought in his mind.
The same went for every lecherous cretin in the room. Chuck pried his eyes away from the girl in response to the stifled laughter of the table behind him. He listened with a determined curiosity at the tasteless hounds, howling away at her expense.
"How many more drinks do you think that one would need before she's out cold and in my bed?"
"They're always out cold when they go home with you!"
"It just makes it easier for me to do all the things I'm going to do to her when I-"
"Shut. Up." He wasn't quite sure how it happened, but Chuck had ended up directly behind them, leering over their shoulders with an expression of distaste.
"An' who the hell are you, runt?" Every pack had its alpha-dog and this one lived up to his title. Mostly beef, hardly any brains, with a mass of beer stains streaming down the front of his shirt. Had she been drunk beyond belief, Chuck still believed that Blair would have the sense to stay away from that one.
"I'm-" Chuck opened his mouth, but found himself drawing a blank. How many times had he introduced himself as the prince of Dalmasca? Not only was he tired of it, but it was irrelevant. "Doesn't matter." He reassured the slovenly man. "You will not talk about her that way."
"Oh, is that so?"
"As a matter of fact it is." Chuck replied simply, narrowing his eyes. "In addition, don't even dare to look at her. Don't even think about her."
"I'm thinking about her right now," At this point, he was simply egging the fair-skinned boy on further as he spoke, "I'm thinking about how I'm going to take her back to my place, rip that little dress to shreds and-"
He was interrupted by a loud crack; the sound of Chuck's fist making contact with his lower jaw. The sound was unfortunately more intimidating than the force itself. Chuck grabbed his gloved hand in pain, "Fuck," the prince breathed, looking up at the physically unaffected but emotionally enraged man.
"You little shit," He reached behind him for an empty glass pitcher on the table, twirling it around menancingly in his hand before hurling it directly at Chuck's head. The prince ducked not a second too soon and the glass shattered as it hit the wall behind him, bouncing little flecks of glass off the back of his head. If that call wasn't close enough the burly gent had resorted to using his bare hands and would have had them wrung around Chuck's neck had it not been for Nathaniel leaping up in record speed, grabbing his own seat and swinging it mercilessly against the offender's head. It was then that all hell broke loose.
The large man crumpled to the ground and several of his co-horts jumped up to take his place and help him to the feet. Red liquid poured from a wound in the man's head and at the realization of this he aggressively stumbled back to his feet.
"You want to mess with him, you're going to have to go through me." Nathaniel withdrew his sword, swinging it expertly at the crowd, though it did nothing to deter the reckless thugs who approached him without hesitance. The two boys exchanged a look of mutual understanding and brotherly affection just before Nate quickly instructed that the prince, "get the hell out of here," and turned his attention back on the ensuing mob. He slashed his sword through the air easily, blocking and deterring all the flying debris directed being directed towards Chuck and himself. Daniel kicked his chair over, breaking off a wooden leg and wielding it as club which he tossed with great effort into the chaotic crowd just before ducking behind the table which his father had flipped over and was now taking cover behind.
Chuck darted his way around drunken adversaries and the resulting carnage, racing up towards the table where Blair was standing and screaming in panic. "Are you brain dead, Chuck? What were you thinking!? What did you do!?" Blair ran a hand through her hair, "We're going to die."
"Blair!" Chuck yelled, reaching for her hand and pulling her down quickly, roughly, and into his arms. He steadied her by placing a hand on either side of her head. "Blair! Blair. Shut up." He breathed. "We are not going to die."
Blair nodded slowly, and the sudden realization brought a bemused grin to her face. "Of course not." The girl giggled drunkenly, placing her hands over his. Her laugh was infectious, and Chuck found himself smiling stupidly in response, up until a glass shattered right above their heads.
"Come on!" Chuck yelled, grabbing Blair by the hand and quickly running towards the nearest exit. They broke out of the tavern and into the crisp, cool night dotted by light rain and mist. Glancing over his shoulder Chuck could see a few of the blokes from the bar trailing after them in hot pursuit so he pushed forward, pulling Blair along with him as they ran through damp grass and over slippery hills. Time appeared so irrelevant that he lost track of it; he didn't know how long they had been running or how far or if they were even still being followed. The thing that made him realize the extent of their travels was the sight of their black carriage parked beside a lone willow. "In here," Chuck suggested, leading them quickly to the edge of the forest and quietly piling inside of the stationary vehicle. From behind they could hear the angry rustle of branches and leaves, sloppy and impatient footsteps belonging to men who wanted to punch a particular prince. "Shh," Chuck quietly shut the door behind them and they crouched down in the tiny gap of floor in between the two facing seats. It was a particularly uncomfortable silence for the two of them in that little spot. Chuck's back was pressed up against the door and his feet were opened wide to accommodate Blair, who was stuck in between them with an arm on either side of his hips. They looked at almost everything but each other in those tense few minutes as the footsteps rushed past them and then faded into the night, the sound becoming nothing more than a distant pitter-patter not too unlike the sprinkling rain.
"I think they're gone." Blair whispered, being the first to break the silence with her amused smile. Look at them here, damp, drunk, and hiding on the floor of a carriage from a group of miscreants from a bar fight started because she was dancing on top of a table. It was all so far-fetched and ridiculous that she could not help but to chuckle at the thought.
"What? What's so funny?" Chuck whispered, running a hand through his hair to push the dark, wet strands away from his face.
"Nothing." Blair shook her head, "I was just thinking... what if my mother could see me now. What would she think?"
"I don't know, what would she think?" Chuck inquired, watching as the brunette's eyes darkened at the thought.
"That I was up to no good." Blair replied seriously, though she was unable to stifle her drunken giggles long and eventually broke into a careless grin. Chuck smiled in response. A genuine smile. A smile which illustrated just how enthralling he found her girlish innocence, how strange it was that she could laugh at a time like this when she had never been one to laugh at all before. He could feel the breath of such laughter tickling his chest, and then suddenly it was not so funny. He felt tense once more, even knowing that they were out of harm's way. "Oh, Chuck." Blair's concern brought him out of his reverie, "You're bleeding," She raised her hand to his forehead and he felt a stinging sensation that had been gone unnoticed up until that moment.
"It's just a scratch," Chuck reassured her, attempting to disentangle himself from her clutches, "Probably from a branch, or a flying glass pitcher. It's nothing."
"It's not nothing." Blair whispered sadly, forcing him to sit still as she fussed over the scrape, sitting on her knees in order to get a better look at it. Chuck fumed internally, uncomfortably. "You defended my honor." Blair stated matter of factly, "It's not... nothing." She frowned suddenly, looking down at the boy. "Why did you do that, exactly?"
"I..." Chuck swallowed his loss for words, lifting his head to look up and meet her beckoning stare. "I," Chuck began in a quiet whisper. The truth was, he really wasn't sure himself. He had lost track of time and of everything that had happened between hitting that man and him sitting here now with Blair because he had been lost in his thoughts trying to figure out the answer to that exact question. Blair's hand trailed from the scratch on his head, lightly down the side of his face in a way that seemed to lull the answer right out of him, though it remained unspoken. A shared understanding passed through them; the understanding that to speak, to try to put into words why he did what he did would only undermine his actions. It would have only served to ruin an otherwise inevitable moment.
Both of Blair's hands came to rest at the base of his neck, tugging gently at his collar. As if nothing seemed more right in the world, she lowered her lips to capture his in a tentative gesture. His hands snaked their way around her waist, sweeping against the fabric of her dress and guiding her closer to him to the point where she was essentially sitting in his lap. The girl pulled away slowly, biting her lip in an uncertainty that was slowly coaxed away by the way his hands hovered against the small of her back.
"Are you sure?" It was so quiet a whisper, and so uncharacteristic a gesture, that she almost didn't hear it and would not have heard it had the night been any less silent than it already was. Now it was Blair's turn to answer without speaking, and she did such by returning her lips to his, eyes fluttering shut in the process. He reciprocated the gesture, deepening the kiss to a point of heated and unmatchable desire. His hands trailed up the back of her dress, barely fumbling with the zipper as he expertly tugged it downwards. Without breaking contact his hands continued to peel the wet lace garment from her body, until it pooled at her hips and revealed the cool silk slip underneath. His hands grasped at the soft material greedily, particularly the flimsy straps which slid down her shoulder, exposing a patch of bare skin at her nape which he eagerly made himself familiar with by trailing an array of light kisses from under her ear to the hollow of her throat. Blair found herself fumbling with the buttons of the blouse underneath his waistcoat, halfway through giving up on her attempts all-together and returning her attention to his lips, his cheeks, and his chestnut hair. All things which weeks ago, no, even days ago she had held high in contempt but now she wished never to part from. It was if with every torturous, bruising kiss Chuck Bass was burning a part of himself into her in such a way she knew that no other boy or man would be able to erase his lingering presence.
With little effort he lifted her, moving her with him as he slide up and onto the cushioned seat behind them. His hands held onto her hips firmly, reassuringly as she pressed herself up against him in a mixture of rapture and trepidation.
Ever since the attack on Alexandria, nights in the meadow sang of a silent stillness. It was reported that that night, well after the violent stragglers had made their way home from the local tavern, for the first time in ten years the forest sprung to life in a harmony of wind and wood. A melodic orchestra of sorts that had not been heard since Alexandria last held a monarch.
Oh. My. God.
Blair blinked twice, eyeing the sleeping prince with scrutiny and disbelief. No, no, no... The daylight was absolutely dizzying, to the point that Blair wondered (wished) that it may have been playing tricks on her. Surely, she was not half-naked, dressed in nothing more than Alexandrian table scraps and surely that was not the prince snoring ungracefully, shirt ripped half open and pants halfway down his legs. Naturally, she feared the worst.
"Oh my god." Blair gasped, searching for the remnants of her dress in a panic, all whilst wondering does it even count if you lose your virginity to a boy who only exists inside of a book? Surely, it shouldn't, because even the idea of allowing the lecherous prince to be her first was humiliating enough to process in this fictitious reality as it was. Never again, Blair swore, would she ever succumb to the intoxicating effects of inebriation.
She quickly picked up the remains of her dress with the plan in mind to exit the chariot before Chuck woke up, without the boy knowing any wiser. Perhaps he would just assume he had brought back some local floozy; surely the thought of sleeping with her would be the last possible option to cross his mind. Whatever miniscule chance she had at leaving the carriage unscathed flew out the window once someone from outside had started shouting the prince's name.
Chuck stirred, rolling over in his half-woken state and furrowing his brow at the sight of Blair, dress in one hand and door handle in the other. "Where... are you going?" He drawled sleepily, raising a leg to block her attempt to leave. Blair froze, sinking back down onto the seat opposite of him.
"This isn't what it looks like." Blair insisted, holding her hands up innocently. Chuck looked at her, perplexed. "We just fell asleep," Blair explained, "And apparently our clothes were wet." How that happened, Blair wasn't quite sure. Had it been raining?
"Oh." Chuck pushed himself to a sitting position, leaning forward and looking up at the girl, "So... what you're saying is that the distinct sound of you purring in my ear while I thrust my-"
"Chuck!" Blair snapped, quickly interrupting him. The boy smirked.
"So you're saying that was all just a dream?" He inquired knowingly. Blair said nothing, simply gulped in response. "Nice try, Waldorf."
"You won't... tell anyone, right?" Blair asked quietly, holding her dress tightly against her. "Because... I'll have to kill you, if you do."
"I don't see why you should be so concerned with anyone knowing," Chuck began, "But... if that's what you want." He placed a hand under her chin, "It'll be our little secret."
Blair quickly swatted his hand away, rolling her eyes as she turned around. "I'm going to put my dress back on. Please don't watch."
"I've already seen you take it off."
"Never happened."
Blair slid an arm into each sleeve, reaching around to zip up the back herself, despite Chuck's movement to help. The girl kept her distance, eyeing him scrupulously. "I think someone's out there, looking for us." Blair mumbled, peering out the window, "You should probably leave first. I'll wait five minutes, then follow..." When she glanced back over her shoulder she found the carriage door wide open, and no prince in sight.
Chuck slowly walked through the rolling grass of the meadow the carriage was parked in, with his jacket casually swung over his shoulder. In the distance he could see a mounted rider coming towards him, and as the horse neared he saw that its rider was indeed calling out for him.
"Chuck!" The horse sprinted and then skidded to a halt in front of the prince, who looked as surprised and alarmed as one ought to be when a rider so impatiently approaches you. The sun blinded the stranger's face from his view until he hopped off, gasping for breath, "Chuck-"
It was Aaron Rose.
The artist looked up at the other boy painfully. His clothes were sooted, his brow sweaty, as if he had riden here from Ivalice for two days straight without stopping. Chuck realized that was probably what the boy had done, and if such was the case... for the boy to come find him with such imminence... it could only mean one thing.
"Chuck... it's about your father."
TO BE CONTINUED...
PART ONE: THE END.
SONG:
Halou - Ratio of Freckles to the Stars - Blair & Chuck In the Carriage.
A/N: So, what does 'end of part one' mean? It means that you can think of this chapter as the last episode before the winter hiatus. It's sort of a half-way point although that does not mean that there will be 10 more chapters. I'm expecting anywhere between five to six more. As you can tell by the ending, the pace is going to change hence the 'parts'. Thus, it is going to take even longer than usual (although is there a usual with me? I don't think so) to get the next chapter up. However, in the mean time you can look forward to an extensive fan-art post based on this fic, all of the songs featured reuploaded (and if you haven't heard the song for this chapter you must definitely download it), AND the first chapter of the next CB AU fic I'm writing which is going to be much darker than this piece. I won't reveal anything else. Thanks so much for your feedback & reviews, it definitely motivates me to continue forward with this fic! It is very much appreciated.