Chapter 3 - Dooms Day - Pendragon style

His legs itched. Shaving them had been as awful as he'd imagined. Arthur could be bloody persuasive at times and although he'd made up for it in blow jobs and cheeky sex talk, Merlin was never doing it again.

Of course, it took his mind off the bigger problem, namely meeting Uther Pendragon. He'd heard horror stories from Morgana and even Arthur was tight-lipped about him. He'd never met the man, as a boy or as a pretend girl, but with the internet, nothing was private any more.

By all accounts, Uther was a rich, snobby bastard who held onto deeply conservative values, drove his competitors into bankruptcy and thought nothing of ignoring the wreckage when he was done. He sneered at the lower classes and mocked those less fortunate for being on the dole. How Arthur could be as compassionate as he was after living all those years with the man was beyond Merlin.

At least when they visited Merlin's mum, Arthur was enveloped in Hunith's gentle welcome. And it helped that there were always warm scones and clotted crème waiting for them. Arthur would leave his mum's place just a little bit heavier, much as he'd deny it.

Merlin wished Hunith was there now. He was sure she'd put Uther in his place with a single look. He'd seen it often enough to know just how deadly it could be.

But instead, he had to pose as a girl and face the ogre, his worried boyfriend by his side.

They'd already got into a fight about what Merlin would be wearing to the restaurant. He'd put his foot down and refused to wear the suspenders - they pinched - but Arthur was equally adamant about the makeup and what kind of scarf he should wear to hide his very masculine neck and how the bra needed to be filled out with stuffing, never mind that the stupid thing stood up on its own with all the padding.

The dress was too short. Arthur said he looked great in it but Merlin was sure Arthur was just mocking him, finding a new way to call him a girl without using the actual words. At least the shoes fit.

If he'd have had time, he'd have fortified himself with a stiff drink but one glowering frown from Arthur and he had to abandon that idea.

As expected, Uther had chosen the swankiest restaurant in town to meet with them. Merlin and Arthur had never been although Morgana talked about it one time, calling it hideously expensive, restrictive about its clientele in a snooty, obnoxious way, clearly harking back to the Dark Ages of class snobbery. Merlin certainly wouldn't have been allowed in, even if he could have afforded it.

Arthur didn't look happy to be there, either. But he put on a fake smile, grasped Merlin's elbow and ushered him into the hallway.

Clearly, the maître d's pretentiousness was sorely tested by their less-than-posh appearance, but once Arthur mentioned 'Pendragon', the man's scowl fell away and he gestured for them to follow him.

Feeling like everyone was watching him as they wove their way through the restaurant, Merlin was relieved to sit down at a quiet table near the back. He had to keep tugging on the dress, though. It was a bit obscene how much it would ride up every time he moved. How girls coped, he had no idea.

He knew he couldn't let himself relax, either. His legs kept wanting to flop open and he knew girls didn't sit that way, certainly not with short skirts. He shoved his knees together in the hope that he'd appear more ladylike but the tights were hot and kept pulling at places he hadn't shaved. Plus the wig was scratchy and the lipstick felt weird. The underwire in the bra kept digging into his chest, too. He was sure he'd have bruises from it by the end of the evening.

It wasn't an auspicious start.

It got worse when Arthur's father arrived. Dressed in a suit that would probably cost Merlin a year's rent, he greeted Arthur with a short nod and sat down. Only then did he look at Merlin.

Uther must not have liked what he saw. He turned a pecular shade of grey, then frowned at Arthur in disbelief.

"Who is this, Arthur? Not the girl you have been so enamoured of these last months."

Merlin winced at the scorn in Uther's voice but Arthur seemed to take it in stride. "Father, this is my girlfriend, Marylyn Emrys."

Leaning back to let the waiter place a napkin on his lap, not even glancing at the man, instead Uther was staring at Merlin as if he were some kind of loathsome bug. "Emrys? Isn't your flatmate a Merlin Emrys?"

Merlin squirmed. He was feeling very uncomfortable about the whole situation and it wasn't helping that the dress was riding up again. As menus were passed around, he pulled at the hem, jiggling the table a moment when his knee knocked against it. He refused to look at Uther, first watching the water slosh a bit onto the tablecloth and then concentrating on the menu.

There were no prices on it, never a good sign.

"Marylyn is Merlin's sister. That's how we met."

When he glanced up again, Uther wasn't even paying attention to the menu. Instead he was scowling, his mouth tight as he stared at Merlin. He looked like he was thinking about burning him at the stake or cutting his head off for daring to date his son. With a cold kind of scorn, Uther said, "She's very masculine-looking."

"Father, don't." A frown deepening on Arthur's face, he glared at his father a moment and then took a long breath and let it out.

But Uther just ignored Arthur's obvious discomfort. ""Well, there was that unfortunate incident with your flat mate at university, what was his name?"

"Leon and he was a perfectly nice bloke, until you made sure he left."

Arthur hadn't said much about Leon in the months Merlin had known him, other than they'd once been involved. He could tell it was a painful subject for him and hadn't pressed for details. Obviously there was more to the story and all of it had to do with Uther.

"He didn't seem all that troubled to leave once I had my solicitor explain things to him." Uther shrugged, turning at last to the menu. "I suppose I should be pleased that you found a woman this time. I'd hate to have to step in again."

Hands fisted white, Arthur was clutching at the expensive linens as if trying to keep in his temper and failing. Hoping to diffuse the situation, Merlin gave him a little smile and grazed his fingertips across Arthur's knuckles. Arthur sent him a tight grin back and turned his hand up, squeezing his apology and love into Merlin's palm.

Uther must have seen the movement. Looking up, his scowl hardened for a moment, then his face smoothed out as he said, "Arthur, you must realise that we Pendragons have an image to uphold. Ms. Emrys is of the right gender, but I had hoped you would choose someone of your own class."

"Father, you know that I don't care about that kind of thing. I'd hoped you would be happy for me, just this once."

"Considering your history, I suppose she will have to do." Uther put the menu aside and leaned forward, his focus solely on Arthur. "I saw Vivian Olaf the other day. Beautiful girl. She seemed quite pleased to hear that you are doing well in that little firm you work at. I gave her your number. You should take her out some time. I hope to buy one of Olaf's companies and…"

Although Arthur's hand was still in his, he was squeezing it so hard that Merlin had to finally tug it free and wiggle his fingers about to regain circulation. Arthur didn't even seem to notice. He was too fixated on arguing with Uther. Merlin could only wonder what it must have been like to grow up with such a cold, controlling father and what Arthur had to do to keep himself from being damaged too much.

"No, Father, no. I am not calling Vivian Olaf or any other woman you want to fix me up with. I love M..Marylyn."

"I am sure you do." Uther sent Merlin another cold look. "It wouldn't hurt you to take Olaf's daughter out for a drink. It's not a marriage proposal, Arthur."

But before Arthur could argue back, the waiter arrived to take their orders. Merlin had no idea what to do. He hadn't paid any attention to the menu while the other two argued but as he sat there, stammering a bit, Uther muttered under his breath about stupid girls and ordered a steak, rare, for him. Never mind that he didn't eat red meat, and the idea of it coming out bloody made him a little ill but Merlin wasn't about to make things worse for Arthur. So he smiled and nodded and tried not to look at his seething boyfriend.

As soon as the waiter left, Uther started in again. "I've kept abreast of Camelot, Inc. It's doing well enough for a small company but surely you would be better off working in Pendragon Industries. I'm sure I could find you a vice president's office in London and your salary would be substantially higher. You'd be able to move into a more spacious flat. Buy the finer things of life for yourself and Ms. Emrys', too. I'm sure she wouldn't object to that." At Arthur's mulish look, Uther said, "I don't see why you are so stubborn about it. It's not as if you will be learning anything of import here."

"Father, I want to make my own way. Just as you did." Merlin could see Arthur's jaw clenching. Normally, he'd find it sexy as hell but right now, it wasn't a good sign.

Uther turned to Merlin. "Ms. Emrys, my son tells me you are still at university."

At last a subject that would not lead to arguments. Merlin began to relax. "Yes, sir. I'm working on my PhD in nanotechnology. It's an exciting field and one that is currently expanding to…."

"Odd choice for a woman." Uther was clearly not interested in nanotechnology or indeed in anything Merlin had to say. "But wouldn't you have been better off in London? There are several major universities there doing that kind of work."

He held his temper, though. There was already enough tension in the air. "Camelot University is ranked just below Imperial College and it is a good deal cheaper to live here than in London. I am not wealthy, Mr. Pendragon, so I had to choose a place I could afford."

"And living off my son helps, I'm sure."

Arthur bristled at that, started to say something but Merlin covered his hand, pressed down until Arthur winced a bit. "I make my own way, sir. I teach part time and I've saved a little." He smiled at Arthur then turned back to Uther. "I don't live off Arthur, Mr. Pendragon. We share fifty-fifty."

"Living in poverty, I'm sure, since my son continues to work at a firm that pays him well below what he could be earning. Although I have to wonder if you realise Arthur will come into a great deal of money next year when he turns 25."

Insult after insult. It was unbelievable. Merlin said firmly, "I will be finishing up my degree by then. I won't need his money or anyone else's but my own, sir."

"Certainly, an admirable attitude, if true." Uther gave him one long measuring look, then dropped the pretence and turned back to Arthur. "London is the centre of the country: financially, socially, intellectually. Remaining in this backwater lessens your chances for advancement."

"Father, I am not moving to London."

It only went downhill from there. Much as Merlin sometimes thought Arthur a coward for not facing his father and telling him the truth, he hadn't realised just how bad Arthur's life had been with Uther.

Growing more silent as the evening progressed, by the time the soup arrived, Arthur was already ordering drinks and downing them at an appalling rate. Not the expensive wine his father kept pushing but potent cocktails with ridiculous names: Sex on the Beach, Orgasm #10, Fuck My Bum Crack, Long Slow Comfortable Screw Against the Wall. Arthur would glance at his father and then order them in a loud voice, demanding that the barman double the vodka, too. And with every drink, Arthur got more and more pissed, glowering down at the table until the next round appeared.

In other circumstances, Merlin would have rolled his eyes and mocked Arthur for being ridiculous but he really understood just how awful he must have felt. But it wasn't the way to get his father to change his mind. It would only make things worse.

He also was rather worried. He had never seen Arthur so out of control. Usually, he was a modest drinker, preferring to enjoy a glass of wine or two but stopping before he lost control. Rare enough that Merlin could count the times on one hand, when Arthur did get drunk, he'd be very handsy and not a little charming before sleeping it off.

This wasn't a sweet drunk, though; this was an explosion waiting to happen.

Finally, Uther must have had enough. "Arthur, this doesn't become you."

Face flushed, a sharp frown cutting into his skin, Arthur rounded on him. "Do you even know… who I am?" He was having a hard time getting the words out but he seemed determined. Rubbing his hand over his face as if to clear his mind, he said, "Seems you… just want… puppet. Strings… pulling. Stran… strang…"

"Strangling?" Merlin said softly.

Arthur nodded, his hand clutching at his throat for a moment and then he slapped at the table, knocking over one of the empty glasses. "Yeah, strangle…ing. You… never… wanted me. Just… tro… phy."

Behind Uther, there were waiters hovering. They must have seen that Arthur was close to passing out or maybe causing a scene, something that would ruin the reputation of their posh, snotty over-priced restaurant. Never mind that they'd let him order so many drinks, just more money in their pockets.

It was time to go, past time, never mind the ordered food or the fact they would likely be watched by everyone in the restaurant as they walked out. "Arthur, love, we should leave."

"Wanted him… to love you, Merlin." Sometimes Arthur could break his heart with just a look. And Merlin wanted to kiss him senseless right then and there and bring back his brilliant smile.

But then he realised that Arthur had called him Merlin. Quickly, before things got even more out of control, he said, "Marylyn, sweetheart, my name is Marylyn, remember?"

"Why is he calling you Merlin?" Uther was looking at him, sharp and cold and dissecting every movement, looking for a way to slip in the knife.

"Not that it's any of your business, but sometimes he forgets, especially when he's had too much to drink." As he stood up, tugging at Arthur, hoping to get him to move, he could feel the damnable dress shift. He yanked down the hem, worried that it had already inched up over his arse and showed the world his bollocks and then realizing that he didn't give a flying fuck about it. Arthur was more important. "My brother and I have very similar features. He's confused, that's all. When he sobers up, he'll be fine."

"You are the one who has confused him." Uther sat there, his face flushed with anger, his voice cold as ice. "He was perfectly fine until you got your claws into him."

Arthur leaned his head against Merlin's side, blinking up at him, vulnerable and small and beloved. "Love you… anyway, Merlin, Mary…lyn, doesn't matter. You're… you."

"I know, love." Merlin couldn't stand it any more. He stared down at Uther. "You have no idea who he is or what he wants."

Sharp, controlling, repellent, at that moment, Uther looked like he wanted Merlin's head on a platter.

"Lower your voice. You are making a scene."

Something must have got through. Arthur turned toward Uther, said flatly, "Can't have a sc… sc… scene. Pen…Pendrago…ns can't make scenes."

Ignoring Arthur's outburst, Uther glared at Merlin. "This is your fault. He never drank this much when he was home."

Merlin leaned forward, both palms digging into the fine linens, dress riding up but he didn't care if anyone saw his bollocks or not. It was time someone told Uther the truth.

"How would you know? You were never there. And when you did see him, you belittled him at every turn."

Arthur murmured something unintelligible, his head nudging into Merlin's side. But that only gave Merlin courage. Even with Uther's bitterness poisoning the air, he had to try and make the bastard see what he was doing to his son. "Arthur loves you. He's your son and yet you treat him like shit. You are going to lose him if you don't back off."

"I'm sure you would like that. How much easier it would be to separate Arthur from his money without someone to look after his interests." Uther looked at Arthur, distaste in his face and then back to Merlin."This entire display has been appalling."

"I agree. This display has been appalling." He stood up, yanking down the bloody hem once more. Lifting his chin, he said, "You better decide exactly what you want, Uther Pendragon. A perfect son who hates his life and drinks himself into oblivion or an imperfect man who will love you for letting him live the life he wants, blunders and all."

"I'll ruin you," Uther said.

Merlin had no doubt that he'd try. But love was more important than this petty tyrant's threats. "Yes, and Arthur will prostrate himself before you and ask your forgiveness for it, I'm sure."

Pulling at Arthur's arm, he finally got him to stand but it was a near thing. He was swaying a bit and Merlin knew he'd have to bear most of Arthur's weight. "Come on, Arthur, we're leaving."

Flinging one arm over Merlin's shoulder, Arthur nuzzled into his neck. "Love… you."

"Later, you idiot. Right now we've got to get out of this effing restaurant." As they walked slowly past the glitter of rich, stuffy fools, knowing that they were being watched every second, knowing that the whispers following in their wake would grow and grow and grow, Merlin didn't care. He just wanted the night to be over and Arthur safe in his arms.

"Perfect in that… that dress." Arthur's body was getting heavier by the moment. The smell of alcohol was strong and Merlin began to worry that they wouldn't make it home. All the while, Arthur was spouting nonsense into his ear and Merlin was only half-listening as he walked them both toward the door. Arthur's hand started to wander, too, and Merlin had to keep batting it away. "Should wear… it again. No knick…ers, though. Want to… want to… fuck you. Now?"

That stopped Merlin for a moment, then he laughed. "I'm not having sex with you in the loo."

Arthur looked almost affronted that he'd said no. After all, they'd done it a couple of times before at the pub but never with Arthur so out of control. Merlin knew it wouldn't be pretty; most likely Arthur would end up on the floor passed out. And he didn't really want to deal with a snooty maître d' and possibly the police.

"Ummm." Stumbling, Arthur knocked against one of the tables and a woman in diamonds and velvet sent him a disgusted look. But he ignored it, nuzzled at Merlin's neck and slurred out, "Merlin… dress. Wear it… again?"

Merlin shook his head. "What is it with you and dresses?"

"Shows… legs." Arthur looked down, smiling and then back up at Merlin. "You have … legs."

"That I do."

They'd finally made it to the entrance. For a second, Merlin glanced back. Uther was staring after them, looking gob-smacked and not a little lost but his face hardened when he saw Merlin looking at him.

"Don't feel… well."

Great. At least they weren't in the taxi yet.

The maître d' didn't want to let Merlin into the men's loo but after Arthur turned green, he didn't have much choice. So Merlin spent the better part of an hour, helping Arthur clean up after each bout of vomiting and then trying to keep him awake while the taxi took them home.

At least Arthur's expensive jacket was dry-cleanable; the tie was a complete write-off. So were the tights; he discovered several runs in them when they got back to the flat.

But Merlin didn't care. It was over and they could go back to being Merlin and Arthur again. If Uther disinherited Arthur, they'd survive. They both had bright futures, far away from Pendragon Industries; the love they shared would last a lifetime.

And more importantly, he'd never have to wear a dress again.