tampered | Log; Ongoing

Blair did not do the anxiously embroidering thing, nor the knitting thing, but she did do the pacing. She was unused to having anyone she knows go into any sort of battle. Death was supposed to be done in hospitals, and fighting done with words and lawyers, not with blood. Her headband collection had been organized and reorganized by occasion, color and then material. Now she needed something else to do --but wait, was that a knock?

She quickly rushed over and flung the door open. It must be Arthur, and it was, but the sight of him shocked her nonetheless. Letting out a horrified gasp, she looked at him, all covered in blood and gore, in fear. Today he killed people. That blood on his armor, that belongs to dead people. Those hands had taken lives today. But it was war, people die, that's just how it goes. Right?

The horror subsided to concern at the sight of the bullet holes, but she brushed it off for later, stepping forward to gather him in an embrace instead. "I knew you'll be back," she muttered.

Arthur gave her a small smile as she opened the door, too tired to do anything else. But he waited for her to hug him first. She had said that she didn't mind if he ruined her outfit just this once but he thought it was better to be safe than sorry.

He gave a small groan of pain as she hugged him tightly. Blair hadn't explained that even if the Kevlar would stop a bullet, it would still hurt considerable. Not only that but he had several cuts as well.

Despite the pain he hugged her back just as enthusiastically though, holding her close to him.

"I told you I would do all I could to come back to you," he replied.

Edited 2009-04-25 06:09 (UTC)

Blair pulled back a little at the sound of his groan, looking at him in worry. He was standing right here at her door, but he could collapse at any moment too. With all that armor, she could not tell whether he was hurt or not. He could be suffering from internal bleeding. But it would not do to nag about that when he had made all that effort to come to her first and foremost. She thought he was utterly wonderful for doing that.

Brushing strands of hair from his face, she looked into his eyes. "I'm glad," she smiled, one as reassuring as she could make. "You kept your promise."

Still, those bullet holes bothered her. She lead him into the apartment. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"Of course I did," he said, rather matter of factly. Arthur was a man of his word and in his culture that meant a lot. To Arthur, it meant even more when he gave it to Blair.

"And cleaned up would be nice," Arthur said as he stepped into the apartment after her. He headed into the kitchen knowing that his armor would stain the floors if it dropped there. Several weeks ago he never would have thought about that but being around Blair adjusted your thinking some.

Once he was on the tile his fingers began working the straps on the armor. Usually he had Merlin or someone to help him with this, although he could do it himself. He was just so tired it was a bit difficult.

For once, Blair really wished she knew what she should do in this situation. She always liked replaying possibilities and scenes over in her head, the way it would be done in movies where every line was perfectly articulated and every movement coordinated. She never thought she would be in this sort of movie, she did not know how to act in it.

Hesitantly, she tried finding the straps of the armor, mimicking him as she worked on the other side. There was so much blood on it, it was practically coated with layers of it. She felt nauseous at the thought, so brushed it away, focusing instead on the task in hand, and the fact that it was still Arthur. Worry was the only thing visible on her face.

"I'm proud you went to fight, even if I told you not to--" It was no easy feat to admit one's fault, especially not when you're Blair Waldorf. "You did the right thing."

"Thank you," he said, giving her a small smile. Arthur understood what it meant for her to say that. She was just as proud, if not more so, than he was. "But you didn't try and force or manipulate me to stay, and I appreciate that."

When the straps, laces, and buckles were all loose enough Arthur removed the breastplate of his armor. His Kevlar vest and shirt were so matted with dried blood that it all came off together and he let it set on the floor with a heavy thud.

"Do you think you could get a shower started for me?" he asked. "A hot one sounds wonderful about now."

Her hands stopped their movement at his words. Did she manipulate him, force him to stay? She did, after all, tried to emotionally blackmail him by telling him to leave for good. But she did not tell him to leave so that he would stay, she just thought that if he wanted to leave then he should as well did it then instead of torturing her with waiting. She did want him to stay in the end, but was that manipulation?

She thought to herself that she should not manipulate him if she respected him at all, but then she thought that maybe she would not be able to help it. Blair kept silent on the topic, getting up instead and pressing a kiss to his cheek. "Meet me in the bathroom in a minute," she said, and left.

If it meant anything, she had never thought she would ever willingly run a bath for anyone. She thought it would be degrading, but she supposed that he had fought for their lives today, and running a hot bath was the least she could do.

Arthur finished removing his armor himself. It felt odd to have Blair help him, that was a servants task. Not that running water wasn't either, but he knew that her culture didn't deal with death and war as often as his did. She didn't need to see this.

He stripped off the rest of the armor and all his clothes, just leaving them there on the floor before he headed into the bathroom. He cold hear that she had the shower running and just the sound of it made him relax. Arthur already had two large bruises on his chest where he had been shot and a long gash on the side of his torso as well as a few other minor scrapes.

"You don't mind if I sleep here tonight?" he asked her as he stepped into the bathroom. "I don't think I could make it home with how tired I am."

Indoor plumbing, she thought, and smiled a little at the thought.

She turned on the taps and left the tub to fill, heading over to a cabinet nearby to get bath salts. Should she put in bath salts? It would hurt, with all the cuts she saw on him. Maybe later.

Blair whipped around when he spoke, giving him that worried look once again. "Yeah --I mean, no, sure, you can stay." She debated making him go to the hospital. She knew nothing about wounds, but the gash looked horrible. "Should I call a doctor for you?"

"I'll go to the hospital tomorrow, I promise," he told her. He noticed the worried look at was sorry that he was putting her through this. "They've got more serious injuries to look at. If you have any bandages or anything like that it might help. I can get them after the bath."

Arthur eased into the bath with a sigh. He would be sore and stiff tomorrow but the hot water would help. Sliding down into the water fully he sank low into it. His open cuts stung but he knew it was best to get them cleaned out.

Blair bit her lower lip in thought, wondering if she really should let him put that off until tomorrow. She knew next to nothing about this, wounds and medicines and such, but she knew enough that even a second could matter if it were a serious wound. That gash looked as serious as she had ever seen, aside from movies, and they never count.

"I'll... try and find them." Which was Blair-speak for I-will-rush-to-the-nearest-store-and-fetch-them-in-record-time. She cast him another glance and a meek smile before closing the door behind her. She fetched her scarf and shoes and keys, and was quickly out of the apartment with a sprint.

She would never let Arthur know she went to so much trouble, more for preserving her pride from seeming too eager to please than anything else.

"Thank you," he said, giving her a tired smile before she closed the door. Once she was gone he closed his eyes and relaxed for a moment. The bath water turned pink almost immediately though and Arthur flicked the lever that began to let out the water. When it was drained he turned on the shower and let the hot water wash over his body, using one of the wash cloths to scrub himself clean.

The cut on his side may or may not need to be sewn closed. The bleeding had mostly stopped but it was rather long and in a place that might get torn open again. He'd have to take things easy. At least until Lucy's tournament.

By the time he was done washing he felt remarkably more human, if a bit more exhausted from much of the tension leaving his body. He was looking forward to collapsing in bed and holding Blair close while he fell asleep.

Blair was back soon enough, a large first aid kit in hand. She placed her shoes and keys back where they were, running over to her room to check on him. The bathroom door was still closed, so he should still be inside. She dropped the kit by the bed, sending a glance at the mirror on her dresser. Still not a hair out of place, even after all that running. Arthur would never be able to tell.

She gently knocked on the door twice. "Arthur? Is everything alright in there?"

When Blair knocked on the door Arthur had already tried himself as well as he could and wrapped the towel around his waist. He opened the door and gave Blair a bit more lively smile.

"I'm fine, just tired," he reassured her. "It's nothing a good night's sleep and a trip to a healer won't fix."

She smiled up at him, instinctively brushing strands out of his face. It was a habit. She walked back into the room, pointing to the first aid kit box. "I found you the bandages," she said.

Blair thought to herself that she liked playing this role; a knight's lady tending to the wounds of the hero, having faithfully waited for his return. She mused about what title would suit. All cleaned up, the wound did not look so horrific as it first did, and she was quite assured he would not die or anything. "You could tell me how to put it on, so I can help."

Arthur leaned into her hand a bit when she brushed the hair out of his face. He thought it sort of a silly gesture since it was just going to fall back down in his face again in a moment, but he liked it all the same.

"Well, first do you have the clear liquid that stings that's supposed to clean the area?" he asked.

Blair nodded enthusiastically, like a puppy at the sight of Frisbee. She opened the box to find a bottle of clear liquid, placing it on the bed, "here, alcohol."

She went over to a cabinet to fetch two pieces of cloth then went back to sit on the bed. "Are we going to clean that gash with alcohol?" She made a bit of a wince. The worst wound she had ever had was when she wore her first stilettos and then fell on the asphalt. The school nurse dabbed her knee with alcohol, which hurt worse than the fall itself, so Blair made sure she would never get a promotion. No, no guilt there. "This is gonna hurt."

Arthur just stared blankly at her for a moment after he picked up the bottle and the cloth. It's going to hurt? Did she think it was tickled now?

"It's a very long gash on the side of my chest. It doesn't exactly feel good now," he said, speaking to her slowly. Unfortunately, he only realized how rude that sounded after he said it.

"I'm sorry," he quickly added. "You were just trying to warn me."

Blair gave him the signature bitch look, practically staring him down. He was sounding like her mom, and everyone knows that was not a good thing. Sure, she realized that she did not know how it would feel to have that sort of wound, but it did not mean she was completely ignorant. She did not want to be completely ignorant.

At the apology, she let out a sigh and looked down on her lap. "I still don't like it that you have to fight, and get hurt or even--" she bit her lower lip before continuing. "I thought the worse when I saw you then."

Arthur took the bitch look with all the grace and poise of someone who knew they deserved it but hated to have it given to them all the same. Still, she didn't verbally chastise him for it so he supposed he was getting off light.

"This wasn't my first battle," he told her. "And it's probably not my last. And I'm sorry that you have to worry about me but that's how it's going to be. I promise I'll never take any unnecessary risks though."

Of course, that didn't mean he wouldn't take risks, just that they would be for good reasons and therefore necessary.

She turned back to him for a few moments. Here she could have manipulated him by saying something along the lines of 'do it for my sake' or 'choose, me or fighting' but she already knew which he would choose. Would she have given him the choice had she known he would choose differently? She did not know.

Blair changed the subject altogether. "Don't worry about the sheets," she said, without a smile, referring to the alcohol. She shifted herself to draw her knees onto the bed, watching him curiously but without emotion.

"Blair..." Arthur started but he really didn't know what he was going to say. Now he really wished he hadn't been so sarcastic to her, she was obviously still upset about it.

So Arthur focused on cleaning the wound, clenching his teeth as the alcohol stung the wound (refusing to show that it hurt all that much) and then was ready to bandage himself up. Only it was proving far more difficult than he thought it would be.

So Blair watched him clean the wound, this time knowing exactly what he was doing. She remembered a time when Nate dislocated his shoulder and how he clenched his teeth just like that, trying to be all manly and strong even if she could tell he wanted to cry. A part of her felt like slapping him out of it, even if that would hurt him worse, and telling him that she didn't need him to be strong all the time, but another part of her was proud that he was just as good at putting up appearances as she was.

She supposed everyone has their own masks they hide behind.

"Let me help," she said finally, noticing him fumbling with the bandages. She took the bandage from him and proceeded to put it on him. She knew enough of first aid to do it, although she had forgotten how to fasten it at the end.

Arthur struggled a bit with wrapping before Blair offered to help him. He wondered if it would have been better if he had asked her for help. He wasn't very good at this relationship thing. So far he had just gotten by on the fact that he liked Blair a lot and tried to make her happy.

"Thank you," he said, tucking the bandage in on itself once it was wrapped around. Once that was done he took her hands in his.

"I mean it, Blair," he said. "Thank you, for everything. You're too good to me."

It made it harder that she knew he meant it. She did not claim to be an expert in reading the motives of others, but it really was not a difficult feat once you have the person figured out. Arthur was not hard to figure out, she thought, he was good and that was all. There was him trying to seem strong when he was in fact much gentler than he would let on, but other than that there were no lurking motives or dark secrets that she could find, would ever find.

Blair looked at their hands, her brows furrowed in thought. He was wrong, he was too good to her. She gave his hands a slight pressure, looking up to search his eyes. There would never be anything in them that could scare her. Leaning over, she gave him a lingering kiss.

Arthur kissed her back tenderly, wrapping his arms carefully around her, not wanting to pull her too close lest he injure himself. But he wanted to, he wanted to hold her as close as possible and just forget what happened earlier that day.

"You don't have to stay with me," he said once the kiss broke. He paused for a moment before adding, "But I would like you to."

"I'll go get changed," she replied, placing a kiss on his cheekbone before pulling away.

Blair headed to the closet, sparing him a glance and a smile before walking into the small room. She pulled out a baby blue one. Slipping out of her outfit, she hung them again on the dirty clothes rail. It would not do to get them all ruffled. She put on the nightgown and then did a brief look over on the mirror, arranging her hair and practicing a smile.

Only when she could find nothing more to fix that she walked back out.

Arthur liked the sound of that. The sorts of things that Blair wore to bed were... not what he would consider clothes you would sleep in. Of course, Blair was not your normal type of woman. Not that Arthur would ever settle for the normal type of woman.

Laying on the bed waiting for her he struggled to keep his eyes open, but when she walked back out he felt a rush of adrenaline and his eyes opened wide. He knew she would wear something like that, but it was always a very pleasant surprise to see.

"I like that one," he said.

Blair replied with a giggle, twirling once before hopping onto the bed after him. She scooted closer, propping herself up on an elbow. Instinctively, she rearranged her hair and smoothed down her skirt. It came as naturally to her as walking, this grooming and re-grooming.

"Be glad you're my boyfriend," she said, absently twirling her hair and grinning with mischief. "I would've given a guy two black eyes for staring at me like that."

"If I wasn't your boyfriend I wouldn't be looking," he told her, reaching out a hand to rest it on her hip. His side was still sire where the gash was but he felt better knowing that it was bandaged.

"You're absolutely amazing, Blair Waldorf," he told her, giving her another weary smile before closing his eyes. "I wouldn't want to come back to anyone else."

"I know," She really knew he meant what he said, no matter how strange that would have been coming from any other guy she knew from her world. She was a dreamer, but it was better to be a realist when it came to guys and hormones.

But his second comment was not so expected. She knew she meant something to him, but how much was still up for question, not that she was anxious to know exactly. He treated her better than anyone else ever had, even counting her own mother, even counting Archibald. He was amazing, but she did not say it, replying him with a touched smile instead.

Blair shifted closer to him, gently, trying not to move the bed too much for fear of hurting him. She pressed a kiss right where his collarbones met, remembering again the butterflies in her stomach. She could think of nowhere else she would rather be than here.

Arthur smiled and let out a pleased growl as her lips pressed against his skin. She really was good at making him feel good, she seemed to know just what to do.

"Blair," he said, yawning as he settled more into bed. "I want you to know that if you ever..."

Arthur never finished though, as he finally fell fast asleep.

Blair watched him fall asleep, a tinge of a smile on her face. He looked alright, although he might just be putting up that tough facade. Still, her worry had subsided. He would go to the hospital tomorrow, it will all be alright. This was not his first battle, nor the last but she did not want to think about it, he knew how to handle his business.

She thought to herself that he might like her more than she thought he ever would. She thought that her reasons must be so shallow compared to his. Maybe her motives were not so pure. But then she told herself she was not lying to him about anything, that she really did like him, and that there was no one, and she meant no one, who would be able to think of him apart from his royal title anyway. Right? But then she didn't want to think about whether she would stick it out with him had he lost everything.

The fact was right now she really liked him, and that was what mattered.

Log; Ongoing

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