Prompt from merlin_writers: Pretend boyfriend - Arthur & Merlin as a couple, Uther coming to visit them not knowing his son is dating/living with another man. Merlin (willingly or unwillingly) goes full on "Dolma" and pretends to be a woman. (that's technically a "pretend relationship", right? XD) Awkward/hilarious situations ensue.
Author's Notes:
1) Many thanks to my self-less and long suffering beta, camelittle. She's my rock, especially when it comes to all things British!
2) For the non-UK people, a few definitions. Suspender belt (or suspenders) = garter belt; tights = pantyhose; stay-ups = thigh-highs. Who knew that we don't speak the same language even though it's all English!
Disclaimer: I do not own the BBC version of Merlin; BBC and Shine do. I am very respectfully borrowing them with no intent to profit. No money has changed hands. No copyright infringement is intended.
Chapter 1 - A Beginner's Guide to Shopping
It was impossible; it was bloody impossible. He'd never forgive Arthur for making him do this.
His hands sweating as he clutched at the frilly thing, he twisted the dress this way and that, trying to figure out how he was supposed to put it on. There were too many buttons, too many layers, and bloody hell, was that a petticoat underneath? How was he to buy something that would fit him properly if he couldn't even get the sodding thing on?
He was getting desperate. No matter what Arthur said - arse that he was at times, Merlin was not a girl. And yet girls put on dresses every day. Was there a secret manual or something? Were they trained since birth to know what to do with skirts and stockings and oh, God, knickers? Was he going to get into trouble for even thinking that way? And wasn't that ridiculous that he was worried what people would think when they didn't even know what he was thinking?
Great. Now he was panicking.
Ears already burning with embarrassment, he knew that he couldn't pull this off, no matter what Arthur wanted. He couldn't wear a dress; he couldn't pretend to be a girl, not for a second, never mind for a whole weekend. It was impossible.
He should just leave. He should tell Arthur that he'd stay with Gwen for a while, just until Arthur's father goes back to London. Uther didn't need to meet him just yet; Uther didn't need to meet Merlin at all. Arthur could just deal with his daddy issues - alone.
But then it was too late.
From behind him, hard to miss, was a titter of snarky laughter. He gave a little shudder, then turning, in the reflection, he could see shop girls arriving, lots of them.
The story must have spread like wildfire; a man was going around the womanwear department, holding up dresses next to him, looked as if he were trying to work it out how to put them on. And the fact that he'd been muttering under his breath the whole time, certainly wouldn't have looked good. Odd maybe, perhaps a bit creepy and definitely gossip worthy.
Of course, they'd come to see it all. And now they were standing around, like vultures hovering around their prey, watching him, watching him with their beady eyes, pointing, whispering. And smirking, lots of smirking.
He froze. His gut wanted him to hide, to find some cave and crawl inside and never come out again. Should he drop the frilly thing and escape? Try to ignore them and buy the damn dress anyway? That would only give them more time to gather and stare and he felt his face going red and blotchy just thinking about it.
He didn't want to be there. He did not want to be there. Didn't matter that he'd agreed to it, that he said he'd do it for Arthur's sake.
He just wanted to escape before it was too late.
Decision made, he tried to put the thing back but the dress refused to be hung up, all that frilly lace getting entangled in the rack, and finally he gave it up, dropping the blasted thing on the floor.
And then he tripped over the hem.
As if the day couldn't get any worse.
The floor at least was surprisingly comfortable, and, surrounded by pinks and sparkles and billowing lace, he couldn't see what was going on - and hopefully they couldn't see him, either. If he stayed there long enough, hidden from view, they'd have to get tired of it all and leave, right?
No such luck.
As he lay there pondering his next move, a matronly woman suddenly appeared, her face hovering upside down just above him. It was all a bit disconcerting but at least she wasn't smirking. Instead she said, "Sir, are you alright?"
From a distance he could hear more giggles. At that, the hoverer's head shot up and she glared into the distance. "Get back to work, you lot. And don't think we won't be having a conversation about how to treat a customer properly before you all go home tonight!"
The threat must have worked because even though Merlin couldn't see past the racks, he could hear the vultures retreating in haste.
He let out a sigh of relief. It was time to make a quick escape before things got any worse.
"Do you need help getting up, sir?" As the woman pushed past the bulging racks, she leaned down and extended a hand but he waved it aside. Instead, he scrambled up and, not knowing where to look or what to do with himself in this ridiculous situation, brushed at the threads hanging on his shirtsleeve.
"No, no, no help. I'll just…." He started backing away, hoping to find the exit before he was completely buggered. "Leave."
He was too embarrassed to look at her, his face still burning, but he could tell she was unhappy by the way she said, "Oh, sir, please, I must apologise for my girls. I will see to it personally that this doesn't happen again."
"That's okay. No harm done." He nodded toward the door. "I'll just…."
"Sir, you are very kind." At that, Merlin looked up. Hilda, floor manager according to her name tag, was standing there, looking concerned. "I hope this incident won't keep you from finding something suitable. Is this for a lady of your acquaintance or for yourself?"
"I… um… myself?" Even admitting it only made things worse.
But Hilda didn't bat an eye. She said, "We do have an extensive selection of dresses that might fit you in the talls department. I think purple or a deep blue would enhance your complexion and we just got in several that would suit you. I can see why you couldn't find anything here. These are mostly for petites."
His cheeks grew hotter. Enhancing his complexion? He'd not thought this through, reckoned he'd just buy a dress and be done with it but would he have to wear makeup, too, lipstick and that stuff they put on their eyes and get those spiky heels and oh, sod it, suspenders maybe? He didn't know what to say. His bloody brain had gone completely into flustered mode. "I…."
Hilda just kept talking, oblivious to his rising horror. "Are you looking for a dress for an evening out or day wear?"
An evening out? Where other people could see him? And he realised that of course, they'd be going out. Uther would insist on it, rich bastard that he was and Arthur would go along with it. Never mind that it would be Merlin in the bloody dress, Merlin looking like a complete idiot, Merlin looking like a girl. "I…"
"Our shop can see to all your needs, of course. Shoes, stockings, scarves, comfortable dresses or perhaps separates, and of course the finest evening wear. If you need other things such as makeup or perhaps lingerie, we can supply them as well."
He tried not to squeak. Lingerie? As in knickers and bras? Or suspender belts? Oh, God.
"It's not… I don't… I can't…." His brain melted down as he tried frantically to come up with some reason to escape.
"Would you prefer something on-trend or a classic design? Wardrobes should always include a bit of both, don't you agree?"
He turned bright red; he thought he'd combust from the heat flushing his face and for a moment, he couldn't speak. A wardrobe, the woman thought he should be buying an entire wardrobe - as in more than one.
He couldn't tell her that his boyfriend was a complete arse and that Merlin was a coward, too afraid of losing the best thing he'd ever had to protest the indignity Arthur was demanding of him.
"I lost a bet." It was a complete lie, and Merlin didn't even know where it came from, Arthur calling him an idiot might not be so far off the mark, but Hilda's face softened, a hint of pity in her eyes.
"Ah, that would make a difference. Then perhaps a single dress might do. Something understated."
"I have to… a whole weekend. One dress unless you think I'd need more… and we… might go out to a fancy restaurant so I'd…," he stammered to a halt.
"I have just the thing. If you will follow me?"
It only got more surreal after that.
Hilda led him deeper into the store, past miles of hideous colour, mannequins showing off odd things that no human should wear, not even girls. An ever present reminder of what he'd agreed to. Overwhelmed, sleep-walking his way into the talls section, he stood there as she looked him over for a moment. Then she started to pull out clothes and hold them up next to him.
At least they weren't pink.
She discarded one dress and then another, then moved to another rack, choosing several that might be large enough and not too horrible, mostly blues, and purples, colours that Merlin might have liked in some other lifetime. Folding them over one arm, she gestured to the more sparkly gowns in the far corner and then shook her head. "You might be able to get away with just a simple black dress for more formal occasions." Then nodding to herself, she pulled out a longish thing, sleek, something one of the fashion models might wear, hideously expensive-looking. "Although it is a bit dear for a one-off, I think it would fit you nicely." She shoved the dresses into his arms. "Sir, you won't be able to use the dressing rooms in this department but menswear is just one floor up. If you'd like to try them on there?"
He looked at her in horror. Going into the men's dressing room with an arm full of dresses? No, just no.
"Can't I just take them home and try them on and bring back the ones I don't want? I don't…." He tried to keep the whine out of his voice, he really did but he felt ridiculous.
"Of course, sir. Just keep in mind our returns policy." She looked a bit troubled. "Will you need help with anything else? I would suggest a brassiere at least. Otherwise the dress's chest area might flop around a bit. Also a scarf to cover your throat since women's necks are not shaped the same as men's. And of course, you will need stockings. And shoes. And perhaps some makeup?"
It was all too much.
He must have looked like a bloody fish, drowning in air. "Makeup?"
"Just a bit to enhance your cheeks and blue eyes." Hilda was looking as if she discussed makeup with men every single day but Merlin just couldn't take it.
"Oh… okay. If you say so. I don't…. I don't." Luckily there was a chair nearby, one of the few in the store. He sat down, dresses covering both arms and most of his lap. He gaped up at her. Taking a breath to try and calm down, he said, "Could you… could you bring them here? I don't think…."
"I'm not sure…." But when he blinked up at her, gulping furiously - he must have looked like he was about to faint or retch into the dresses she'd piled into his arms - she seemed to take pity on him."Leave it to me, then."
The absurdity of it hit him as soon as she was gone. He'd agreed to pretend to be Arthur's girlfriend because… because his boyfriend was an effing coward about being gay. As if pretending to be straight would keep his homophobic tyrant of a father from finding out and cutting Arthur off. As if having a tall, gangly girlfriend all angles and five-o'clock shadow would make things better. Or more importantly, as if Merlin could pull off the whole ridiculous thing with just some dresses and makeup.
Like that's going to work. With dresses and bras and everything else that girls had to endure? It was ridiculous.
But he didn't move. After all, Hilda had been kind to him, even if she was doing it just to sell him things. So, he'd buy the dresses, and anything else she came up with, and he'd take them all home and throw them at Arthur - and hopefully something would click and clear out all that rubbish that his idiot boyfriend thought about inside that thick head of his. Money wasn't everything after all. Love mattered, too.
He was a lot calmer when Hilda returned, a large shiny bag displaying the shop's logo in her hand. "I've had to guess as some of your sizes but as with the dresses, just bring back the things that don't fit."
Merlin didn't want to look inside but ignoring what she'd brought for him was the coward's way out, and he'd been enough of a daffodil as it was. As he gazed down into the bag, he could see some brighter fabric that might be anything, a pair of soft black shoes, what looked like opaque black tights, a smaller plastic pouch full of makeup, and worst of all, at the bottom of it all was a padded bra.
A padded sodding bra. It had come to this.
Looking back up, he gave her a little smile. "Thank you for everything. I don't think I could have done it all without your help."
"Glad to be of help." She hesitated, then said, "If I might suggest one more thing? We do not carry wigs in our store but if you have need of one, there is a shop three doors down that stocks some that might suit."
If he thought it couldn't get worse, he was wrong. More shopping, more people pointing and laughing. And he knew, he just knew that he'd get it all mucked up somehow; he'd be talked into some ridiculous long blond wig with curls flying, and he'd end up getting it caught in everything and having it go askew in front of Arthur's dad, maybe even falling off in that posh restaurant he'd pictured, right into the soup. It was a nightmare waiting to happen.
Hilda looked as if she knew what he was thinking and pitied him a bit. "If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to ask, sir."
"Merlin, my name is Merlin."
"Merlin, then." She sent him a little smile, then patted his arm and pointed toward the front. "Shall I ring this up for you?"
He could only nod, trying not to think of the horror to come. Wigs indeed.