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It was freezing; however that apparently didn’t mean that her training with Chaol stopped.
“You need to be prepared” he had argued
“Well I might just die from heat loss before the first task mightn’t I?”
A heated argument followed.
So at an obscenely early hour on a Monday morning, she found herself hauling her exhausted legs out of her lovely, soft, warm bed into the ridiculously cold stone cold beyond. As Celaena changed out of her nightwear, into more suitable attire for the morning’s training, she instantly regretted leaving her luxurious four poster bed that her golden puppy was now sleeping on. She wasn’t really a puppy anymore really, Celaena contemplated to herself as she braided her hair in the mirror above her basin, and she was growing so fast that Celaena would have to buy another bed for her soon. Celaena’s spirits were lifted at the prospect of a day of shopping. Her hand was on the handle of the door to her chambers, when she contemplated leaving the whole thing, going back to bed and letting Chaol get her up at a more reasonable hour. But she decided against it. She couldn’t miss an opportunity to kick Chaol’s tight little arse.
Celaena strode down the corridors of the glass castle; her mood reflecting the hideous weather outside, her initial excitement had been brief as a gust of wind had chilled her to the bone. It was the middle of winter in Adarlan and no one was up this early, it was too cold. The normal dazzling castle had been coated in a layer of frost and ice. Celaena wrapped her arms around herself, shivering at the prospect of the draughty training room.
The door to the training room was ajar, yellow light pooling into the dim corridor, Celaena was about to burst in and complain about making her get up early, when she heard frenzied panting from inside. She opened the door a crack wider, thanking the Wryd it didn’t creak and positioned herself so she could see the far corner of the training room, the sandbag and mat in front of it.
And there was Chaol.
He was mesmerising. He was punching the sandbag with kind of ferocity that she’d only seen on herself before. His shirt had been disbanded who knew where, and shining sweat was pouring over his back. From his position at the side of the sandbag she could see everything, from his mouth pulled back into a snarl, to his perfectly defined abs, muscled, but not bulky, and to the waistband of his trousers, hanging a bit too low than they should have been, showing off his v-cut. His punching was relentless, he was a whirling storm of strength and power and muscle and nothing was going to stop him. It was then that she knew he had been holding back in training, he was like a wave crashing against a rock, pounding and relentless. For a while the only sound was Chaol’s panting, his fist connecting with the punching bag and the occasional grunt of effort. For a while Celaena stood transfixed. She had never thought of Chaol as attractive, never given much thought to it at all really. Maybe it was because of his closed off nature and pain in the backside tendencies, but here she was seeing a completely different side of Chaol, and she wasn’t just talking about physically. Although, the glistening sweat dripping off his pert pectorals, tanned shoulders, and dampening the waistband of his trousers might have had something to do with it. With a final grunt and last punch, the sandbag split, sending a trickle of sand pooling onto the mat. Chaol began to take it off its hook and chucked it on a pile of broken punching bags in the opposite corner Celaena hadn’t seen before- how many had he got through already?- and putting a new one on from a stack along the wall. It was while he was replacing his bloodied hand wrap that he finally spoke,
“You’re late”
Celaena, obviously not having concealed herself as well as she thought, stepped into the training room and toward him.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t want too-and you seemed busy-I-I-I” she stuttered. It was hard to concentrate when they were standing less than ten feet apart, when he was staring at her with those burning eyes, and suddenly the room didn’t feel so cold anymore. Was she blushing?
She managed to gulp down her temporary daze.
“You’re hurt” she said, pointing to his bleeding and mauled knuckles.
“Yes I am”
“What are you doing?”
“It’s called letting your anger out. You should try it sometime”
“Why?”
“None of your god damn reason why “he grumbled. By now he’d finished and was back to punching. She could smell the alcohol on his breath.
“Chaol” Celaena muttered
“Chaol. Please stop you’re going to hurt yourself” She said calmly and a bit louder this time
“That’s...the...point” Chaol growled through gritted teeth as he continued to throw punches at the bag.
“Chaol!” Celaena shouted this time. He kept going.
So, quick as a viper, she moved, blocking him from the way of the bag.
“Dammit Celaena! What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Chaol practically spat at her.
“I’m helping you. I know you don’t believe me but I wish I’d have had someone to help me. You’re going to listen to me okay?”
“Just get out of my way” he retorted
“No” this time Celaena grabbed his hands and shook them. Chaol was so shocked that he stood in silence, his torso rising and falling with his heavy breaths.
“What we’re going to do, is we’re going to go to the healers, we’ll fix up your hands, I’ll send someone to clear all this up, and then you’re staying in bed all day”
“No”
“What do you mean no?”
“I mean no”
“Chaol” Celaena whispered, holding his gaze and gripping tightly on his hands. Something happened inside Chaol then. His angry exterior had snapped, his shoulders slumped, his eyes glazed over, and he seemed as vulnerable as a child woken up from a nightmare.
Staring at a point on the wall just behind Celaena, he nodded meekly.
“Ok, come on lets go” Celaena placed her hand on the small of his back, and guided him towards the door. She then stopped and wrapped her own jacket around Chaol’s shoulders, in case they were to bump into some nosy servants and rumours would start flying. She then proceeded to guide Chaol back to his room. His face was an emotionless mask the entire time, his movements sluggish, almost as if he were in a stupor. They passed a young page, lighting the lanterns in the corridor, trying to fight against the blustering winds and snows outside; Celaena sent him down to fetch a discreet healer, and to send them to the Captain of the Guard’s rooms.
Pretty soon Chaol was sitting on his bed, with a pretty female with golden tanned skin, green eyes, and chestnut hair woven into a braid, tending to his hand. Celaena was sitting in a chair opposite Chaol, holding his hand, as the woman cleaned his mauled and bloody hands.
“How long will it take to heal?” Celaena asked. The woman, startled at being addressed, hesitated a moment before replying quietly.
“As long as he uses the ointment I give him, about a week”
“He’s not going to like that” Chaol continued to stare at the floor. The woman was silent. “What’s your name?” Celaena asked. She didn’t particularly care, but she couldn’t help being reminded of the timid yet determined healer Yrene.
“Sorscha miss. My name is Sorscha” The two women didn’t exchange any more words.
Celaena sat on the bed beside Chaol.
“Are you going to tell me why I found you like I did?”
“It’s all my fault” Chaol’s face was devoid of emotion.
“What’s your fault Chaol?” Celaena asked quietly
“She didn’t deserve to die” his voice was hoarse
“Who Chaol? Who?”
“She was supposed to watch me grow up. She was supposed to see my wedding. She should have held her grandchild” Celaena knew not to interrupt him. “If I had been stronger. If I’d been faster, if I’d been braver. If one of my brothers had been there. They would have known what to do. I was a coward. I could have saved her.” She could see tears glistening in Chaol’s eyes
“Your mother?” she questioned softly. Chaol slowly nodded. “What happened to her?” Celaena whispered
“I didn’t know what to do. One minute she was reading me a story and the next she was on the floor coughing blood, her legs and arms jerking. I couldn’t move, I was frozen, my mouth open in a scream that never came. While my mother lay in front of me. Dying. It was one of the servants who called for a healer. He said he couldn’t do anything. My father and brother hated me. I was the reason she was dead. I wasn’t allowed to the funeral. It’s her birthday today, she should be 52 today. If it wasn’t for me”
“You couldn’t do anything”
“Of course I could, I could have done something”
“She was sick something would have happened anyway. I wasn’t your fault”
“That’s what I tell myself everyday” he muttered. For a while they sat in silence. The silence saying all that could be said. Celaena never knew he had gone through such pain. Gone through a similar thing to her, but with no one to take revenge upon but himself. She cursed herself now for being so judgemental and harsh
“Well that’s guilt; you have to live with it for the rest of your life. Guilt isn’t always a rational thing, guilt is a weight that will crush you, whether you deserve it or not. It never goes away, but it does fade. But you’ll always have to life with it. You can’t escape it. It’s the price we pay for loving too deeply.”
They sat in silence for a long time..
Eventually Celaena ordered food from the kitchens and managed to coax Chaol into eating something, called up a servant to help him bathe the layer of sand and sweat off his body. She then managed to convince him to get some sleep. She was about to leave, standing with her hand on the doorknob, when she heard a quiet mutter.
“Stay”
“Are you sure you want me to?” looking over her shoulder at the bed.
“Please” his voice ragged with emotion.
She moved from her space at the door and awkwardly sat on the bed, before swinging her legs up and crawling under the sheets.
“Are you cold?” Chaol whispered his breath on her neck.
“Just a little” she replies in the same hushed voice, her teeth chattering.
“Here”. There was a rustling of sheets, and then she felt Chaol’s muscled arms wrap around her, his nose nuzzling into her hair. Celaena nearly gasped in shocked, she certainly wasn’t expecting that. He was so warm, Celaena thought to herself, she couldn’t help relaxing into his touch, and entwining her freezing feet with his hot ones.
“Chaol I...” she stuttered. But she was interrupted by the soft sound of his breathing, and the deep rise and fall off his chest. Soon she found herself lulling into the warmth of his body and sinking into the bed. Before she knew it, she was slipping into sleep.
The next morning Celaena found herself squinting in the harsh ray of light that was coming through a crack in Chaol’s windows. She instinctively yawned into the crook of a warm arm beneath her. Then, suddenly realising where she was, jerking awake. What had she done? Had she never heard of such a thing as self restraint? Inwardly cursing, she gingerly lifted off the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. Turning round she could see Chaol’s peaceful sleeping form. She grimaced as she tried not to disturb him as she got up. She gathered her boots from where she’d taken them off the previous night and silently crept out of his chambers.
The next day, Celaena was in her bed of shame. ‘How unprofessional can I get?’ Celaena thought to herself. She hadn’t seen Chaol since yesterday morning, hadn’t spoken to him since he had told her about his mother. She felt awful about that. However, she had inquired, and found he had slept all day. She knew he must wake up today though, and was expecting a couple of shouting matches and awkward conversations.
Celaena was peacefully dozing, when a bucket of ice cold water was thrown on her. She sputtered, gasping at the cold and blinked water out of her eyes to find Chaol standing at the bottom of the bed, hands on hips and a surly expression on his face
“WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT FOR?” Celaena screamed
“You were late.” Chaol said, in a matter-of-fact manner
“Bloody hell Chaol. What’s your problem?”
“Get out of bed now. We have work to do”
“Why are you so mad? God nothing happened!”. A look of confusion flashed over Chaol’s face.
“What are you talking about?” Chaol genuinely had no idea what Celaena was talking about.
“What are you talking about?”. For a moment there was a confused silence. “Chaol...” Celaena tentatively asked
“Celaena” Chaol replied, folding his hands over his chest
“How many days is it until the first task?” Celaena asked, counting the days in her head
“What kind of question is that?” Chaol retorted
“The kind of one I want you to answer” Celaena muttered through clenched teeth. Chaol sighed heavily
“7 days. Why?”. Celaena’s head was whirling; it was 6 days until the competition. He hadn’t remembered any of yesterday, or the night they spent together. That meant...
“No reason. Just trying to figure out why you thought there was good reason for pouring a bucket of water over me” Celaena grumbled, flicking water in his direction.
“Come on. Get dressed. We have work to do” Storming out and slamming the door behind him.
As they were strolling down the long halls, Celaena feeling slightly less cold when standing next to Chaol, she wasn’t really sure how to feel
“So you really don’t remember?”
“Remember what?” Either Chaol was a really, really good liar, good enough to fool an assassin with years of training; or he his sudden memory loss was genuine.
“How it feels to be beaten to a pulp?” Celaena retaliated, a mischievous grin on her face
“Oh really?” Chaol grinned at her, obviously not being able to stay mad with her for very long. Celaena sniffed the air
“Oh. Is that the smell of competition, or jealousy I smell?” Celaena jested, winking at Chaol
“Hmmm. I think it’s your fear emanating through the air?”. Chaol looked up in a sombre nature and then nudged Celaena in the ribs.
“Well we’ll see about that, won’t we?” Celaena threw open the doors the training rooms.
Celaena never told Chaol what happened that night. Not until her wedding day speech.