Chapter Text
Ludwig checked the grandfather clock nailed to the wall. 2:00 p.m. Their appointment was scheduled for 12:00 p.m. He reclined in the chair, hands perfectly folded and stared across the room, a small twitch quirked at the corners of his smile. A short distance away, nearly an elbow’s distance, Scrooge fidgeted in the chaise lounges.
“She is fashionably late.” He chuckled nervously. “It happens.”
“Of course!” Never one to make someone uncomfortable intentionally, Ludwig reached for his notepad and clicked his pen. "Jakob will understand why his Grandpapa had to miss his thirtieth birthday party."
Scrooge groaned guiltily. “Ludwig…”
“What?” He laughed without an ounce of anger. “He will understand, certainly. It's my Klara who you ought to apologize too."
His teasing did not reassure his friend. Scrooge pulled out his pocket watch and frowned. “I don’t know where that blasted woman is,” he hissed.
“Therapy is a choice.” Ludwig sat upright and corrected his bifocals. “It is an admission we need a little help and perhaps she needs more time.”
By the corners of Scrooge mouth, he guessed his friend wasn't confident on that. Oh well. He imagined she'd been informed of the hour at least a month in advance. Both men knew what kind of woman Goldie O'Gilt was, and Ludwig was sympathetic. Scrooge had spent one hundred and twenty two years wrestling his ambitions and feelings for her. Consistently contradictory, they never fell in place like he planned.
So her lateness, presumed absence, wasn’t wholly unanticipated. Still, this didn’t persuade Ludwig’s sympathy to vacate. Scrooge’s expression was sober, softened and tenderized. Disappointment. He recognized the emotion clearly and it hurt to see it on a man so proud.
He cleared his throat. “We can start with you.”
“Me?” Scrooge scoffed derisively. “I am paying you for couples' therapy.”
“You aren’t paying me.”
"Course, I'm not." Scrooge scowled. "Even with insurance, the fee is criminal."
Ludwig didn't disagree. "I wasn't going to as you to." He said with a faint chuckle. "You've done much for me and my family. It's the least I can do."
At his earnest gratitude, Scrooge softened. "I promise you." He pronounced a fifth time. "She will come at her own time."
Ludwig leaned back in the chair, nodding professionally. “Let’s hope that time is sometime today. ” But he didn't doubt Scrooge. No, not at all. He was 99.9% certain Goldie O'Gilt would arrive sometime today, but he truly hoped it wouldn't be past his bedtime.
"I don't want to miss Law and Order: Organized Crime," he mumbled quietly to himself.
Then the door opened. Their heads whipped to the door, breaths held in their throats.
“Dr. Von Drake.” Mrs. Beakley smiled pleasantly. She stared at Scrooge. “Mr. McDuck,” she said in a dry tone.
Scrooge flinched and sighed. “I suppose she’s here.”
Mrs. Beakley’s head disappeared for a moment, and soon, reappeared fully. Her arm was extended forward as if she held a rodent, but she would’ve been nicer to the rat. There was nothing nice about how she had roped their fashionably late party.
“Mrs. O’Gilt is here.” She announced in a clipped tone.
Ludwig gawked at Bentina, then Goldie. “Bentina, dear, why is she tied up.”
Mrs. Beakley didn’t look away. “To keep her from running away.”
“Why is she blindfolded?”
“So she couldn’t see me coming.”
He squinted, staring at her, then back to Goldie. “Why is she gagged?”
“She did not react appropriately to her capture.” At that, she smiled and Ludwig’s bones chilled. “I couldn’t have the children hear her.”
Ludwig opened his mouth, closed his mouth. He searched Scrooge’s expression and saw the man looked more exasperated than surprised.
“Did you know about this?”
Scrooge scratched his neck worriedly. “I suspected she would try to make a run for it when she realized…”
“You didn’t.” Ludwig gasped. He covered his mouth. “You lied to her?”
Mrs. Beakley placed Goldie on the end of the couch safely. “I have done my part.” She spared one, last glare at the blindfolded woman and walked off. “You may seek me out once she has departed.”
She closed the door silently, leaving the two men and blindfolded woman alone.
“Uh…”
Scrooge sighed. He set his cane aside to remove the cloth tied into her mouth. “Goldie, you’ll understand when I’ve explained things.”
“You tricked me into attending couple’s therapy.” She retorted dryly.
“Uh...you make it sound bad when you say it like that.”
“It is bad no matter how you slice it.” Ludwig groaned. “And you even tied her up.”
“I didn’t tell Beakley to do that.” Scrooge defended sharply as he tried to undo the knot. “Curse me kilts, did she learn a new knot?”
Goldie huffed. “It isn’t one I’m familiar with.” She smirked snidely. “I’d say your housekeeper keeps grudges.”
“Yes,” Ludwig answered for Scrooge. “She does keep grudges, but that doesn’t take away from the moral ethics of deception.” He turned to Scrooge wearing a disapproving scowl.
“So…” He grunted, pulling on the ropes. “You’re not going to do this?”
“Oh, no.” Ludwig grabbed his notepad. “We are doing this. I waited two hours.”
Goldie glared at them both. “You told me you had found the map to Shangri-La.” Her accusation had more bite than bark, and she leaned forward, beak touching the underside of his. “I wasted a perfectly good work day for this.”
Scrooge snorted. “Good work? When have you ever worked honestly ?”
“Are you going to really go there?” She jerked away and fell on the arm of the sofa. Using it as leverage, she scooted over and hissed. “You lied to me to get me here. I don’t think you’re in a position to judge my moral character Mr. I profit off the suffering of others.”
Scrooge sputtered, pale faced and shook his head. “How dare you.” He raised a shaky finger at her. “How dare you bring that up?”
Always present of mind, Ludwig clicked his pen and brought it to paper. It was complicated. Their history was long, tangled and so deeply enmeshed in their characters, he didn’t know exactly where to start. Until they started bickering.
“Old codger!”
“Ruthless rando!”
He snapped his fingers. How could he not have seen it sooner? He’d known them for the better part of a century. He’d seen them in action and though perplexed by their romance understood where their attraction stemmed from.
“You let me fall back in 1975.”
“And you cut the bridge!”
“You didn’t come back to Dawson.”
“I thought you were trying to poison me.”
He snapped his fingers. It was so clear. “Dismissive - avoidant attachment.” He whispered.
They didn’t seem like the pair, but they were obviously the pair. How insulting it was for him to have missed! For years! For decades! He was embarrassed. Oh yes. But excited. Excitement he hadn’t felt in decades surged through him. Back straight, he cracked his finger joints and decided he’d get to work while the hour allowed. And the rope. He had about a good thirty minutes before she managed to get free.
“Alright.” He moved to the side of the chair where a cowbell sat. He didn’t like using the cowbell often and rarely did. However, he was astutely aware the case he’d undertaken was special. He needed to navigate safely.
The rattle drummed along the walls. Their argument tumbled to a stop, and they swirled at Ludwig, blaring in silence.
“Good!” He set the cowbell down. “It seems I’ve gotten your attention.”
“We’re not cows, you damn quack.”
Her swears tickled him. “Not at all!” Enthused by their attention and his most recent discovery, he tapped his fingers mildly. “It’s good to start off on a positive note.”
“Positive?” Goldie scoffed. “He trapped me into therapy.”
Scrooge rolled his eyes. “And you left me frozen in a glacier of ice.”
“Why?”
Their raised voices were cut to stunned whispers. They looked at him through pinched stares, perplexed at the question.
“Why?” They repeated dumbly. “You’re asking why.”
He was tempted to touch on their reaction. Had they ever questioned the reasons behind their actions? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe they covered them under fire, brimstone and adventure; they didn’t think it was necessary to look any deeper.
Ludwig motioned to Goldie. “Let me clarify,” he smiled genially. “Why did you leave him in the glacier back in 1913?”
“How do you know it was in 1913?” She glared warningly at Scrooge.
Ludwig shrugged casually. “An educated guess.”
Her chest rose with an indignant huff. “If you must know,” she said slowly, barely controlling the rage in her chest, “it was a matter of life and death.”
“Life and death?” Scrooge scoffed. “You could’ve -,”
“Scrooge.” Ludwig interjected softly. “Goldie is speaking. It is polite to let her finish.”
He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t harden his tone. He spoke in such a gentle tone that it’d confused Scrooge. For there was an undeniable authority present, and it told Scrooge to stand down.
He closed his mouth, swallowed his complaint and motioned for her to continue.
Goldie smirked. “There was a mammoth out there. I didn’t have to time get him out.” She stared at Scrooge, ready for him to volunteer his commentary, but when he didn't, she tilted her head back haughtily. "Again, a mammoth was charging in my direction, and if you must know, they are notoriously fast."
"She's right." Ludwig said.
Goldie smirked. Scrooge frowned.
"Seriously?"
Ludwig was unapologetic. "Mammoths are fast. Or their descendants, the African and Asian elephants are. She couldn't have outran them, Scrooge."
Scrooge's right eye twitched, but either his restraint or patience kept his mouth sealed until it was his turn. Goldie cocked an eye at him, expecting him to slip up into a tirade, but he didn't. Feeling adventurous, she exhaled and continued. "I didn't have ten seconds to escape. I wouldn't be any good to him dead, and besides, it's what he loved. He wanted me to leave him."
Now that earned her an incredulous glare. "I wanted you to?"
Ludwig switched from her to him then back to her again. “I presume it isn’t true.”
Scrooge’s head nearly turned ninety degrees. “Who in their right mind would want to be abandoned in a glacier?” He hissed hotly. “For five years we spent trapped in that cursed thing, and for five years, I thought things had changed. I thought I could trust you."
"C'mon, Scrooge." She scoffed, rolling her eyes. "You don't get to play the martyr here. It's offensive to Capybara Jesus." She gave him the stinkiest stink eye and pushed her shoulders upright, though at an awkward angle due to the ropes. “Things had changed a long time before then. Don’t pretend the mammoth was different from all the other times just so you can look like the broken hearted hero to anyone willing to listen, who, honestly is your family.”
Scrooge pulled back, struck by her vehemence. Wrinkles tightened near his eyes, and he inhaled to where Ludwig could feel the end curves of his ribs scratching his lungs. Then his brow furrowed. Alarm bells went off in Ludwig’s head. He needed to act and act quickly yet subtly enough to soothe the temper.
“Is she right?” He said fatherly, crossing an ankle over his knee. “Did you love it?”
Slowly, his attention was lulled from her. Scrooge’s frown fell to a scowl. Absent yet aware. “That isn’t the point.” He said roughly, placing one hand atop the other on his cane. Cold, imposing. Ludwig recognized the stature.
“It isn’t.” He confessed mildly. A wry smile crinkled his face. “It is, however, an important facet of your interpersonal relationship.”
Scrooge glared. Goldie glared beside him. It was strange how perfectly in sync they were.
“Can you untie me?”
“I tried already.”
Ludwig puffed air out, standing. “I will untie the missus.” He shuffled to the ropes, surveying them. After identifying the exact knot used, he shook his head. “Impeccable, Bentina. Impeccable.”
Scrooge’s nostrils twitched. “Are you going to continue?”
“I’m waiting for you.” He grunted. Mrs. Beakley did her homework. “You admit you enjoy the chronic backstabbing and tit for tat, but you hate the consequences of it. So the question is, what is it you want from her?”
“Want from her?”
Ludwig grunted. He raised his foot, placing it in the center. “Whatever you’ve got has endured the test of time but has faced a true adversary in stable commitment.”
Goldie scoffed. “We raised a child together.”
“I know!” He couldn’t keep the amazement out. “She's a lovely young lady. Well done on that."
He'd admit it was tempting to down that path. However, the moment wasn't ripe and he'd loathe to provoke them too early. In the short time he’d spent in the manor, he observed much and didn’t have time to evaluate it. Good thing he was an expert at taking mental notes.
There was a variety of emotions and people in this home. He was excited to get down to business, but it was important to start with the core. Scrooge was the sun the rest of the household orbited around. Ludwig knew and understood the reasons for it, but the harder he tried to figure out the knot, the more apparent it became that the consequences were buried deep within the soul of the family.
“Are you done?” Goldie complained. “I’d like to leave.”
“Almost there.” Ludwig grunted, and he grinned when the knot started to loosen. “So, Scrooge?”
He crossed his arms and grumbled. “I do love that about her.” Unable to maintain the stare, he shifted to the window. Afternoon light pierced his bifocals. His wrinkles smoothed in the sunlight. “I always did. I always will.” Wistfulness had taken over, and a small, sad smile replaced his scowl. “The challenge is all I have ever wanted. All I ever could dream of.”
His brow knitted tightly. It wasn’t anger. It wasn’t grief either. Ludwig watched Goldie twist around, just enough to study his expression at a good angle. In the window’s reflection, wide, pleading eyes studied him. Haunted by words he spoke flowing in the undercurrent.
“Is that it?” By the way she said it, she knew there was nothing else.
Scrooge sought her reflection in the mirror and knot rolled down his throat as he swallowed. He may not have understood why this was the wrong thing to say, but he knew this wasn't what she wanted to hear. He squinted back at her, not quite a glare but seeing her through a clear lens. He'd something wrong.
But he was too stubborn to admit it.
"Did you want anything else?" He asked snidely. "You should've said something a hundred and twenty two years ago."
What felt like an eternity was no more than seven seconds. The ropes fell out of his hand, as did the knot, completely unraveled. It dropped at her waist, and she stood, staring Scrooge down until the familiar texture met her feet. Ludwig wasn't sure what he read in her expression. He identified anger, grief, disappointment, but he was positive, almost positive anyway, that revulsion lurked nearby too. Revulsion. He'd have to write that down later, revulsion and disappointment. Scrooge was adamant the woman could never be truly disappointed as long as she'd always gotten what she wanted, which she normally did.
Perhaps, what she wanted wasn't what Scrooge thought it was.
"See?" She rounded to Ludwig, sharply. Confidence swayed into her grin and she spread her arms, mocking their experiment's futility. "It's what he loves about me, and that's all there is." Yet, just for a moment, as Ludwig stared at the woman - the woman who had lived a life unlike many - he heard her confidence quake. A small fissure, a crack rippled in the center of her rant, and she brought her fist to her thigh, blinking furiously.
“Goldie…”
Scrooge reached to touch her, to stop her, to beg forgiveness. The last one was unlikely, but he did extend his hand a mere seconds after she swept away. His fingers grazed the end tail of her ponytail. She power walked out of the woman, stomping and cursing under her breath, though her speech sounded wobbly, stricken even with the growing distance.
Ludwig looked over his shoulder to the open door. “Next week, same time?” He called out to the passing wind. “I hope to see you then.”
“What did I do?” Scrooge stared dumbly at the wall across from him. It hadn’t registered until her footsteps faded out of another open door.
Was the definite sound of the door closing or the implications? Ludwig would ponder later. For now, for the moment he lived in, he watched the richest duck hurtle out of the door. Ludwig didn’t stop him. He didn’t attempt to. A bystander, he gathered his things and placed his hat on his head. With a hand in his pocket, he nodded to himself, in agreement to some idle thought he’d forget minutes later.
“Was that necessary?” Came a stern yet sorry tone to his right. He didn’t have to look up to know who it was.
“Bentina.” He straightened his coat and grinned. “A mental health professional's job is not easy. I am only here to listen to what they have to say.” He sent her a sly stare. "You know that."
“That’s the problem.” She guided him out. “They never say what they truly feel.”
Ah, the wrench in the cogs everyone thought they knew and understood. He tapped his temple knowingly. “It isn’t so much what they don’t say.” He grinned impishly at her. “It’s what their actions tell each other.”
For Scrooge and Goldie, acknowledging those meanings was the hurdle he intended to overcome. After, well, they’d discover along the way. There was ample time, or so Ludwig liked to believed.