Work Text:
Celaena lay sprawled across Chaol's sofa, as she had for so many days this past week. It was easy to be here with him, even if they weren't doing the same task. Even if they weren't fawning all over each other. His quarters were perhaps the only other place in the entire grand castle where she felt safe, where she felt at peace. It was her refuge in as much a way as he was.
The fire crackled nearby, covering her simple lilac dress in the smell of burning wood and ash, and she inhaled the scent deep into her lungs. She had a book in her hands, another usual occurrence, and slightly behind her Chaol sat at his desk. He was pouring over guard rotations and upcoming schedules, but when she'd waltzed lazily into his room he'd gladly let her stay.
Chaol always made time for her, and to Celaena that was one of the most wonderful things anyone could do for her. Just make time. Even if it was short. They'd walk together whenever they could, or go on their morning runs as if nothing had changed. She'd "accidentally" come across him on patrol, and he would "accidentally" find her skulking about the library. They'd share momentary kisses in alcoves, give each other bedroom eyes over crowds, and even slip into broom closets if they needed to.
Because it was always a need. Wanting, Celaena discovered, didn't do justice to the way she felt whenever she looked at Chaol's rugged face or warm eyes. She could tell, every time they met, how genuinely ecstatic he was to see her, even briefly. He was a poor actor she'd discovered, and he always got a bit louder when he tried to have a casual conversation with her. Even as he sat so seemingly far away from her now, engrossed in something other than her presence, he was still so happy with her here.
But Celaena knew he had work to do, so she tried very hard to focus on the book in her hand. She'd already read the same paragraph at least three times, and she was finally moving on when she felt a little crick in her neck. She had been spending quite a lot of time bent over books lately, and even with her morning runs with Chaol--not to mention their other physical activities--she was a little sore and stiff.
Celaena dropped the book down into her lap and sat up a little straighter. Her legs were still spread out long across the sofa, the thin material of her dress falling against her thighs, and she rolled her shoulders. She gave a little squeaking, tired sigh before rolling her head about. To the left, to the right, to spy Chaol watching her over a document in his hand. When her eyes met his, he instantly looked back down to his work and stifled a smile.
Celaena grinned. "Stop looking at me," she teased.
His eyes peered back up at hers. "I wasn't," he said, shaking the leaf of paper in his hand as if to demonstrate how busy he was.
She raised a pale brow at him. "Oh weren't you?"
He lowered the page, still desperately trying to hide a smile. "Well I am looking now," he said playfully. She loved how playful he was. She never would have guessed it during their friendship. She could still remember how stiff and stern, how duty-driven he had been when he dragged her shackled form from the mines. Gods, that felt like years ago...
"You were looking before, too," Celaena challenged. She pointed at his desk. "Do you not have schedules to make? Patrols to plan?"
"Yes I do," Chaol said stiffly, and he made a great show of diving back into his planning, a pen in his hand and a stiffness to his brow. But Celaena still watched him, smirking with every dedicated movement of his body. He looked strange slouched over a desk, his broad form so unlike any scholar or council member she had ever seen. He still somehow held onto that almost regal Guard posture of his, and she had a feeling that if she suddenly leapt off the sofa he would shoot to his feet and reach for his sword. Even with his brows furrowed, his hand flying across the pages, he was still the Captain.
But Celaena wasn't quite sure whether or not he was truly working, or spiting her comments. He appeared dedicated to his task, no longer stifling his smile, but she was well trained at noticing things. And she loved noticing Chaol. While he diligently worked and shuffled through the documents on his desk, Celaena could just barely see his brown eyes twitch towards the sofa every now and then. She had him still.
Closing her book, Celaena threw her legs over the couch with a flourish, sitting there with her hair loose and her eyes bright. She stared at him a moment before curling onto her stomach and resting her chin on the arm of the sofa. What a view she had from here. She willed Chaol, just with her turquoise eyes, to look back up. She could tell by the way he slid his chair a bit closer to the desk that he felt her gaze. And when he started to just vaguely smile she grinned again.
"Stay focused," she told him wryly.
"I am perfectly focused," he said with military-efficiency, but there was a chuckle hidden in his chest. "It seems you have lost your focus, however."
Celaena smiled, slow and wide and almost malicious. "No," she nearly purred. "I'm quite focused." She almost won his grin with that.
Celaena pushed the book away and stood fluidly, walking with carefully practiced gaits towards the window. She peered out it for a moment, admiring the view of Rifthold, before turning to peer over his shoulder. She clasped her hands behind her back to keep from running her fingers across him.
Celaena investigated Chaol's work as she inched closer and closer, her heart pounding oddly behind her ribs. She could see his body rise and fall with each steady breath.
He was making an intricate looking chart, almost like a seating arrangement for a grand dinner, but she soon realized it was a detailed, short-hand sort of map of the castle grounds. He must know every nook and cranny of this place, every possible hiding spot for danger, and for cover. He knew the patrols, he knew where people should be and when. As she had been that first training session where he'd beaten her, Celaena was impressed by him.
"You really shouldn't be looking at this," he told her, his sudden voice almost startling her.
"Do you think I'll somehow use the patrols to my advantage?" she mused.
"I never know with you," Chaol told her.
Celaena gave off a low, alluring chuckle. "Good." She came around the desk a bit to stand at his side, staring at his profile, watching him try to ignore her.
"Can I help you with something?" he asked, keeping his gaze down.
"No, I've found what I was looking for," Celaena said, and she crouched down until she could get her arms on the desk. She folded them on the edge and rested her chin on her wrist, her shoulder blades rising up from her dress like a cat ready to pounce. He was trying not to grin again, but he was still doing a miraculous job of not looking at her.
In fact, it aggravated her a bit. Usually he couldn't resist her. It took one or two little words whispered into his ear to make him melt into her arms. Celaena could admit that sometimes he could do the same thing to her, another wild surprise she'd been thrilled to discover. Those warm, deep brown eyes could smoulder as easily as they could gleam or twinkle or soften her heart. And that's what she wanted to see right now, those glorious, sometimes cunning eyes flicking up to hers.
Chaol had such a gift when it came to looking at her. Like he'd been doing it his whole life. Like he knew how to delve into her eyes to see her very soul. It would be unnerving if anyone else could look at her like that, but with Chaol it was different. He was, perhaps, one of the only people she really let look into her eyes. She'd let him see her for everything she was, and she had a feeling he'd still look at her like she was his whole world.
"Look at me," Celaena heard herself almost breathe. She'd been crouching here at his desk, watching him work, for so many long breaths. And he'd managed to avoid her pale eyes all the while.
"You told me not to do that," Chaol said, and she could here the cheeky little taunt in his voice, even as his face stayed blank.
Celaena pouted and tilted her head at him. She had a feeling he could see her out of his peripheral vision, because he forced his tiny smirk to spread across the hidden part of his mouth. "Look at me," she nearly whined.
He huffed through his nose, then finally, at long last, gave her a wry sideways glance. Like he wasn't enjoying this. Like she wasn't deliciously attractive. When she beamed at him as his eyes hit hers, his composure finally cracked enough to make him smile. She adored his slow grin, watching as every barrier he'd placed up steadily fell down, until he had to look away. "I was doing a good job until just now," he lightly scolded her, looking at all the work on his desk.
Celaena just held her head proudly. "Do you want to know something?" she asked him.
"Do I?" he wondered, raising a brow at her as he leaned back in his chair. The curve of his chest, his open lap, was endlessly tantalizing.
Celaena punched his shoulder lightly and he cracked that grin again. "Don't be mean," she told him.
"Alright then," Chaol conceded. "What?"
Celaena blinked at him. "I like your eyes."
His brows rose in a soft surprise at that. "Mine?"
She rolled her own blue irises at him. "Yes, yours. Is anyone else here?"
Chaol blinked to hide the roll of his own brown orbs before shaking his head at her. "I cannot imagine why someone with eyes like those," he said, pointing to her face, "would care at all about eyes like these," he finished, pointing to his own.
Celaena reached out and pushed his hand down to the arm of his chair. "It's because they're yours," she said, the sappiness in her voice making something forgotten in her cringe a bit. "And they're warm and deep and--"
"Brown," he said bluntly. "Dull and brown."
"Golden brown," Celaena corrected. "Like caramel."
Chaol chuckled. "You would compare them to food."
She punched his shoulder again, but then softened the next instant. "Golden like...the tail end of a sunset. Just before it truly falls below the horizon, and everything is soft and warm. That burning sort of golden brown."
Chaol's face did that painfully open-book expression of awe. As Celaena spoke, she watched all the mockery and humour leave those eyes to be replaced with something so taken aback and honoured that she looked away. It never ceased to amaze her how easily he could make her lose her nerve, lose her bravery and cocky attitude. Especially when he looked so sadly touched by compliments, that she knew he hardly ever received them.
"That," he started slowly as she slid her gaze back to his and stood. "That is perhaps the kindest thing...that you've ever said to me." She'd expected him to say "that anyone has ever said", but he twisted it in time to make it a tease, and she pursed her lips against her grin. Celaena reached out to punch him again, but with a wry smile of his own he caught her fist.
It was a momentary, half-hearted struggle, but eventually Chaol flattened out her fingers and held her hand. He ran his rough thumb over the little scars on her skin, and they each stared at their hands in silence. She was on fire just from this one touch, just from the feeling of his hand on hers. They'd been together enough by now that she could recall the feeling of his hands on every inch of her, and his thumb tracing her scars managed to bring each and every memory into her head.
"Are you nearly finished?" Celaena asked softly, languidly gesturing to his desk.
Chaol looked over at the work just as lazily as she did, and he gave a heavy sigh. Then, so fast that she actually did jump, he shot his chair back and stood. His arms were around her waist in moments, pulling her entire body against his as she giggled like a fool. "I can be finished for now," he purred, his warm breath brushing strands of her hair out of her face. She shivered and started to sweat at the same time, melting into his arms as he bent his head and pressed his lips to hers tightly.
They smiled through their whole slow approach to Chaol's bed, then they smiled some more.
And Chaol had to work into the night to finish his patrol schedules.