Modern AU | hurt comfort | romcom with hereditary trauma
– Turn round, please. Right, now the other side.
– I think everything’s fine, Arthur. Why are you staring at me like that?
– The tie.
– What about it? The colour works.
– For God’s sake, Merlin, can’t you see? It’s tied crooked, the knot’s too bulky, and the ends are uneven. Here, let me do it.
– I think you’re getting yourself too worked up over some family dinner.
– It is not some dinner. I’m introducing you to my family. I want you to look immaculate, and I want everyone to see how stunning you are.
– Well, they’re not blind. I’ll smile mysteriously and flutter my eyelashes at everyone. No one will even notice what sort of knot I’ve got.
– You always have to turn everything into a joke. This isn’t a nice Sunday lunch at your mum’s. This is an official Pendragon reception. There’ll be a whole crowd of important people there, half of whom I barely know myself: my father’s business partners, family friends, Morgana’s old university crowd, distant relatives — in short, a room full of gossips who, every time they hear your name afterwards, will remember you as the scruffy man with the badly tied tie. And where are your cufflinks?
– In my breast pocket.
– What are they doing there?
– Waiting for you to help me put them on. (smiles)
– Merlin!
– Arthur! I think you’re making far too much fuss over nothing.
– And you’re taking this far too lightly!
– I’m not. I’m trying with all my might not to panic. I’m the one who should be nervous about spending the evening in a crowd of strangers. Wait, are you losing your mind because you’re embarrassed by me?
– No. I’m sorry if I made you think that. It’s not you. You’re wonderful.
– Then what is it?
– Nothing. I just want you to fit in.
– Arthur. (sighs) We both know I’m not likely to fit in. Ever. I only agreed because it matters to you, and because I’m curious. It’s like stepping into a TV series. Or a game.
– Damn it, could you be serious for once? This isn’t a bloody game.
– Oh. Are you that tense? (puts his arms round his shoulders) What’s really going on?
– Nothing.
– Arthur? (looks into his eyes)
– It’s me. All right? (pulls away) I’m the black sheep of the family.
– What rubbish is that?
– No. That’s what they all think. Do you understand? All of them.
– Why would they?
– Because not only did I fail to carry on the family business and marry some heiress from an old family with a dowry and connections, I went to work for... the other side, and I very obviously make no secret of my preferences. On top of that, I choose friends and partners who are completely unsuitable from my father’s point of view. I am the greatest disappointment of his life.
– Arthur…
– In his eyes, I’m a failed project. An asset he invested a hell of a lot in, only for it to turn out loss-making.
– Arthur.
– The prodigal son my father tolerates to preserve the image of a family man.
– Arthur! Stop it! Stop tearing yourself to shreds. You don’t actually think that about yourself, do you?
– ...No, but... everyone there does. Everyone, from my father down to some random guest invited at the last minute as a replacement.
– Well, sod them. Who cares what they think? Would you rather be living the life they planned out for you instead of the one you have? Do you regret your choices?
– No. I’d rather work as a pro bono lawyer for some NGO than defend those tycoons from justice, cover up their shady dealings, and tell them how to get away with it.
– Exactly. You’re a man of honour. You’re the man who drags villains into the light and pins them down. You’re not some conformist corporate rat. You’re a noble hero.
– Yes. Of course I am.
– I’m serious. To me, you’re like a knight.
– Stop mocking me.
– I’m not. Who saved my deposit from the claws of a greedy landlord? Who helped me avoid a burst appendix? And rescued my favourite cap from the merciless talons of a flock of pigeons? Who found the perfect Christmas present for my grumpy old uncle, so that, for the first time in history, he shut up and didn’t ruin everyone’s holiday with his complaining? Who gets up at an ungodly hour every morning to run his ten kilometres? Even in rain and snow! That’s worthy of a heroic ballad.
– Yes, an enviable list…
– Shove the sarcasm. That’s what it is to me! Not to mention my mum, who clearly thinks you’re the better version of a son!
– I know that in your eyes I probably look pathetic…
– Did you hear a single thing I just said? You are not pathetic! You’re strong, and you’re worthy of respect and love.
– I know I should have grown up ages ago and stopped looking for my father’s approval. But I don’t... I don’t always manage it.
– God, Arthur. Relationships with parents are hardly smooth sailing for anyone. Besides, I think you’re making it all sound much worse than it is, and it won’t be that dreadful. But if it does become unbearable, just say the word and we’ll leave straight away.
– We can’t. It’s a public event. There’s protocol. If you intend to leave early, you have to give notice in advance.
– Now that is proper bollocks, in my opinion. We’ve got the perfect excuse. I’m an outsider in this whole set-up. I can look all innocent and say I didn’t know the rules.
– And make me look like an irresponsible idiot who couldn’t even be bothered to warn you.
– Fine, I’ll think of something anyway. Do you know why you take a mage into your party in video games?
– Merlin…
– No, seriously, answer me. What do you think they’re for?
– (rubs the bridge of his nose) To fight other mages? Lift curses?
– Yes, but none of that matters. A mage’s job is to cover the party’s retreat. And I am a first-rate mage and a man of my word. If I’ve promised to get you out, then I will. I’ll come up with something: set off the fire alarm, get some poor sod drunk, pretend I’m having an appendicitis attack…
– You don’t have an appendix any more. (smirks)
– They don’t know that! Anyway, I think you need to reframe it and look at this event not as a boring society evening, but as a quest: you are my knight, I am your mage. Mission objective: survive and return unharmed.
– And not scandalise me any more than I already am.
– Well... we’ll see how it goes. But if we do have to make a run for it, I’m fairly sure “badly tied tie” won’t be the headline.
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