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lettheladylead · 3 years ago

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running in circles

chapter thirty-five: thought i was more than the afterlife summary: Goldie reads Scrooge’s autobiography. warnings: references to sex, nothing explicit wordcount: 3676 playlist (will be updated as chapters are posted): shorturl.at/bfBCQ ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33776632/chapters/97715058 site link: https://sites.google.com/view/running-in-circles/chapters/chapter35

here’s chapter thirty-five!! text will also be included in this post for those of you that don’t use ao3:

1987; Dawson:

“Scwooge McDuck. Hermit to hewo. The shut-in…now shining out! Are we going to be seeing a more hewoic side? A sort of…altruistic adventure capitalist?”

“Mmm! That has a nice ring to it!”

Goldie switched to another channel, not really interested in watching Scrooge antagonize a new enemy for himself. The new guy (whatever his name was) seemed like a weirdo, but ultimately harmless. Scrooge could probably stand a regular nuisance to keep him on his guard.

She’d been annoying herself by seeking out news about Scrooge - in business magazines, on television, newspapers, everywhere. She was just desperately curious where he was and what he was up to. They still called and caught up with each other every few months, but it didn’t feel like enough for her. She wanted to see him again. Get in his face.

Her own life was not going in any interesting directions. She was at some sort of standstill…going through the motions of each day without really learning or growing or gaining much. A treasure hunt here and there were fine, but not fun. Not exciting.

She also just kind of wanted to talk to someone. Didn’t have to be Scrooge, but who else could understand her? With him, she could reminisce, she could joke around, she could reference her past misdeeds and her future misdeeds and he’d know exactly what she was talking about. He knew her better than anyone.

The calendar on her desk was screaming at her. She couldn’t believe it was 1987. She met Scrooge ninety years ago. That was longer than most people’s entire lives. Those orphans she’d given food and a home to so long ago? All of them were dead. Not a single one even made it to 85. She wondered if growing up half-starved in the freezing cold had anything to do with that. Or maybe they just made bad life decisions because of her influence. Who could know, really?

Goldie sighed and laid face-down on her bed. It was mid-morning and she didn’t have anything to do. No treasure to hunt, no people to see, no museums to rob. She needed to do something.

She could walk around Dawson. Go to the hair salon. Go to the library, maybe.

Actually, the library sounded like a good idea. A place where she could think about something other than Scrooge. Learn a thing or two. Maybe research some new potential treasures to hunt down.

Yeah, yeah. That’d be a great way to spend her afternoon.

—

It was not a great way to spend her afternoon.

Unbeknownst to Goldie, her rival-slash-lover had released an autobiography. She always knew he liked to talk about himself and his family, but a book?

She hadn’t gone looking for it. Someone just happened to toss it into the return bin just as she stepped into the library. Since he was the big Klondike Success Story, people in the area were excited to read it and some school children were forced to read it for their classes.

Obviously she had to grab a copy and read it herself. How could she not?

Goldie knew her curiosity was too strong to make it back to the Blackjack, so she plopped her butt down in the nearest comfy chair and started reading right then and there at the library. Who was going to stop her? She was the oldest person in town and she donated to the library regularly. Everyone knew to leave her alone and let her read.

“I was born in Glasgow to my poor parents, Downy and Fergus. Fergus came from a strong family of powerful ducks, while Downy O’Drake’s parents were local business owners. She’d had a modest wealth in her youth and gave it up to marry my father, while he’d been poor his entire life. The McDuck name is strongly associated with a large castle in Glasgow, however the castle was burned down decades before my father’s father was born.”

Goldie glared at the pages. She couldn’t believe that she knew all of that already. She got annoyed at the thought that this book was just going to be a refresher course for her on things about Scrooge she already knew. So many things he’d shared with her and very few other people were now being shared with anyone in the world that could read.

“When Matilda was born, I couldn’t have been happier. She was the most bubbly baby I’d ever seen.”

She flipped through the pages, skipping past Hortense and Scrooge’s early years to get to something more interesting. Specifically…she wanted to know what he’d written about Dawson. And her. Mostly about her.

“I made my way to Dawson City in 1896. Thousands of men and women were headed towards the Yukon at the start of the Gold Rush, but I managed to arrive before most of the riff-raff. It was there that I met some of the most dangerous people I’d ever known, particularly one Mr. Jefferson Randolph “Soapy” Slick.”

Goldie felt her breath catch in her throat. She hadn’t given Soapy more than a passing thought in decades - the only time he came to mind was whenever she caught a man trying to pour something suspicious into a woman’s drink at one of her bars. Reminded her of the things she didn’t miss.

“Soapy employed a number of men across the Chilkoot Trail - you couldn’t go to a single Gold Rush town without running into one of his goons. Though Skagway was his main stomping ground, he had a significant influence in Dawson. Most of the local businesses owed him money and he wouldn’t hesitate to use that debt to get free food and tools, which he would then use to further scam innocent men who just wanted to make money for their families. A word of advice? Always keep your receipts.”

Goldie hummed quietly in thought. He hadn’t mentioned her yet. That was fine. It wasn’t like he was going to brag about being poisoned by a sexy saloon owner that would later take his virginity and then stalk him for several months. That’d be an odd brag.

“Among those business owners that were being intimidated by Soapy was Glittering Goldie, owner of a popular saloon in town. For a long time I thought she was working for Soapy, trying to steal from me and help him run the town, but eventually I realized she was trying to steal from me all on her own. She especially wanted to steal my goose egg-sized gold nugget that I’d managed to mine at my claim.”

She smiled softly, happy that he didn’t use her full name or name her business. He hadn’t asked her for permission, after all, and she valued her privacy. It was a surprisingly kind gesture.

“Goldie visited my claim several miles from Dawson and helped me dig for gold for a few weeks, trying to find a giant nugget of her own, until Soapy came and tried to take her back to town with my money. We got into a bit of a brawl that ended with Soapy falling into the river. I tried to help him, but he was dragged away by the current and never seen again. Then Goldie felt safe enough to return to Dawson, so she left.”

Goldie felt her brain short-circuiting a little. He sanitized and boiled their time together into one shitty little paragraph that didn’t even scratch the surface of what happened. Also - tried to help Soapy? Really? It wasn’t like the courts could prosecute him for killing a man in self-defense ninety years ago. Why bother lying about it?

She grumbled and adjusted her position in the chair, worried that the next few chapters were going to annoy her as much as that one. She expected some lies, of course, because his life wasn’t all family-friendly or appropriate for the average reader. But she thought he’d give her some more credit. Maybe at least mention the poisoning or that Soapy tried to kill her or that they were falling a little bit in love while she was there. But…nothing. Not a word of it.

Still, she couldn’t stop reading.

“After my claim near Dawson was used up, I made my way down the Chilkoot Trail. I stopped in Canyon City for a few months, then Finnegan’s Point, then Skagway. In 1899, near the end of my Gold Rush journey, I ended up coming to America - in a town called Gumption. That’s where I met notorious robber baron John D. Rockerduck, whose family still owns the Rockerduck Estates.”

Goldie felt herself getting more impatient. No mention of her whatsoever in those years. Fine. He had a lot of other things going on.

“Rockerduck tried to steal a significant amount of gold from me, so I banded together with the local sheriff to get it back and distribute the gold to the townspeople. Nowadays Gumption is a small, but wealthy town that knows to stay away from men like Rockerduck.”

Still no mention of Goldie. She had to admit, it was starting to hurt a little.

“Not long after Gumption, I ran into an old friend in Juneau, Alaska. Together we discovered a portal to another world and that’s when I confirmed something I always knew to be true - magic is real and it’s very, very dangerous.”

Goldie blinked rapidly at the words in front of her. Of all the terms she’d used to describe her and Scrooge’s relationship over the years, old friends was not one of them. She didn’t understand why he didn’t just mention her by name. For her privacy? She wasn’t the only Goldie in the world and certainly not the only one from Dawson City. Was she only going to be mentioned once? Just that she owned a saloon and mined with him for a month and then…nothing? He couldn’t seriously just erase her from his story. If he was worried about her privacy, he should’ve just asked.

“By that time, I’d started working on my relationship with Duckburg. I’d had to buy the land back from a local family of dogs that tried to swindle me out of what was rightfully mine, but it was worth the price. Duckburg became my home. Where I’d bring my family from Scotland and where I’d build my mansion and where I hoped to build a thriving city. Which I did, as you know.”

She didn’t know what to think of Scrooge as a writer. Had he written this all himself or gotten a ghost writer? Goldie had so many questions.

“Despite settling down in Duckburg, I couldn’t stop adventuring and treasure hunting on the side. My businesses were growing rapidly thanks to my innovation and fiscal security, so I had plenty of time and money to spend on extracurricular activities, though my treasure hunting did inevitably benefit my companies as well.”

Goldie skipped ahead once again. There was a very special, interesting little thing that happened to the two of them in 1914 that there was no way he could’ve just pretended didn’t happen. He had to mention her there, at least.

“In 1914, I decided to take a vacation for a few years and leave my company in the capable hands of my then-CFO. It was just five years, but it felt like a lifetime. Though I enjoyed the quiet and the beautiful scenery, I needed to get back to work. So by 1920 I was back to business. I’ve always been a man who thrived on working; I hated sitting still for so long.”

She almost laughed. Almost. The fact that he referred to her as beautiful scenery wasn’t lost on her, but Goldie was mad. Alright, okay, yes, there was no reason to tell his readers that he survived being trapped in ice for several years because he and his rival were cursed by an ice demon of some sort. That might make him look crazy. But he could’ve at least mentioned that he was in Dawson and on his little “vacation” with her.

She wasn’t irrelevant. She wasn’t scenery. She was definitely going to yell at him about this.

Goldie skipped through a couple more chapters - boy did Scrooge love to talk about money and gold and business - trying to find something else that was relevant to her. She could read the rest later if she really wanted to, though she doubted there was anything that she didn’t already know.

Her eyes landed on the 1930’s and she hesitated. One time period for Scrooge that Goldie didn’t know much about was while she had disappeared. She knew he’d continued to thrive financially, but…personally? She didn’t know anything.

“In 1935, I received a letter that sent me into a wave of deep depression. A good friend of mine, someone I’d known for over thirty years, had passed in a mysterious and frightening way.”

Okay, not exactly true, and still not mentioning her by name, but she’d take it.

“I didn’t want to believe she was dead and spent several years trying to convince myself that it wasn’t true. I reached out to her friends and family and coworkers, I sent letters to her home. I even reached out to a mysterious friend of hers in China. They all said the same thing: we haven’t seen her. And so I eventually had to accept her death as truth and move on with my life.”

Goldie didn’t know what to think about all that. If he really did reach out to her sister, she’d never heard about it. The thought made her uncomfortable. How would Scrooge have even known? She’d never told him about her. Maybe he was exaggerating.

“After my friend’s death, I threw myself into my work even harder than before. I channeled my grief into profit and used that to get richer and richer. By 1947, I was the second richest man in the entire world - the only man richer than me at that time was Vander Zee, owner of the VDZ Hotels and countless factories.”

Oh, great, her ‘death’ just made him work harder. What a disturbing way to talk about her untimely demise. Goldie wondered if any of this was even remotely true, considering the amount of lies he’d told about them already.

“In the early 1950s, I fell back into adventuring and treasure hunting, realizing that it was the only thing in my life besides earning money that made me feel like myself again. Losing my friend had left me feeling empty, but getting back to how we used to spend our time together made me whole once again.”

Goldie was really struggling with this autobiography. She sort of understood why he wouldn’t mention her coming back from the grave, since, again, people might think he was crazy. But still…she would’ve appreciated being mentioned again. It was weird to read these excerpts of half-truths blended in with full truths and blatant lies. What was Scrooge gaining from all this? She needed to get in touch with him again, clearly. Maybe stop by Duckburg for dinner. An angry dinner.

After she finished the book, of course.

“In the year 1960, I finally became the richest man in the world after selling a mine to Vander Zee. He’s never made proper use of the minerals, in my opinion, but that’s his problem now. Similarly, becoming the richest man brought me a new problem of my own: a ghastly creature named Bombie that followed me around for months until I found a way to deal with it on my own.”

To be fair to Scrooge, Goldie had absolutely no expectation that he’d mention their weekend. That would definitely not be anyone’s business but their own.

“It was also around that time that I experienced the worst theft of my life. Over the years I’d dealt with many thieves, some of them slicker and more charming than others, but this one remains a mystery to this day. I won’t disclose the amount of money that went missing that year, but to whoever took it: I will find you, one day. And I will get my money back.”

She had a vague memory of Scrooge interrogating her about some missing money back in the early 60s. Goldie didn’t blame him for thinking that was her doing, but she preferred to steal with a bit more flash and finesse. Something that was fun and classy but still had her name all over it. If she remembered right, it was around two million dollars that went missing. Whoever took it was probably living the good life.

She skimmed through the 60s, not super interested in reading about Scrooge’s attempts to date other women. He’d spent time with models and actresses and spies and she didn’t care to think about it. They were always so young.

“In the late 1960’s, I started spending time in London with an old friend of mine. He’d started a little…club, you could say, and I wanted in. Though I can’t safely share many details about it, it’s certainly been one of the most exciting parts of the last few decades. I’ve met so many new and interesting people through this club, and I continue to participate in their events on occasion. Whenever they need me, really.”

It took her a second to realize he was talking about S.H.U.S.H. Goldie was surprised to read about how much he enjoyed the spy life. She’d thought it was kind of cheesy and overly strict in their rules and regulations, but hey. That was her. Scrooge didn’t usually like rules, but maybe he didn’t have to follow them all since he’s best buds with the owner.

She skipped around a few more chapters until finally landing on the 1980s, which was wrapping up towards the end of the book. She quickly flipped open the front cover to see when he’d released this little biography and discovered it was already a few years old. How had this not been brought to her attention yet? Not even by one of her employees?

“In early 1980, I finally merged my two companies together to form McDuck Enterprises - solidifying my rank as the richest duck in the world. There was no way any other person could ever hope to outrank me with the amount of land, development, and businesses that I had control of. And I stand by that today - McDuck Enterprises is worth three times the amount of the next largest company.”

Goldie closed the book and sighed, staring down at the cover. It had a profile of Scrooge’s face, looking stern and serious as ever. She had so many questions. Why did he write this? Was he pressured by his publicist? Did he have a publicist? Since when did he care about his public image to this degree? Was that the price of fame? Were people not baffled by him being over one hundred years old?

…and did anyone wonder what happened to Glittering Goldie? Or the identity of the friend who “passed” right before World War II?

She looked up to see that the library was closing and suddenly realized how hungry she was. She’d managed to lose her entire day to Scrooge’s stupid book. Once again she spent hours and hours thinking about him. How embarrassing.

Goldie turned to look at the cover again and scoffed. Didn’t he think she would read it when she found out about it? Or maybe he thought she cared so little about him that she wouldn’t want to see what he said about her. Goldie felt that despite all the games she played, her interest in Scrooge was pretty clear. She’d been pursuing him for a long, long time, even when she didn’t want to be.

One of the library employees was staring at her nervously and Goldie realized she probably wanted to close up for the night. She got up and held the book in the air so the employee could see. “I’m taking this.”

“Y-yes, Miss O’Gilt,” she responded nervously.

She headed out the door and thought about going back to the hotel. But she also felt a sudden urge to get out of Dawson. There was a small angry tick in her chest that wanted to scream about this book - wanted to scream at Scrooge for writing it, at her employees for not telling her about it sooner, and at herself for being so annoyed by it.

She was so tired of him having such a profound effect on her. She wanted to be able to read about his life without wondering about her place in it. She wanted to be able to see his name and not think about the next way to spend time with him. She wanted to take a deep breath and exhale her obsession so she wouldn’t have to deal with it anymore.

But she couldn’t seem to do any of that.

Instead, she started to wonder about more than just Scrooge. What about his sisters? She’d only interacted with them once and they got along at the time, but she and Scrooge were at a very good place that day. If they saw her when she and Scrooge weren’t doing so well, would they brush her aside? Would his parents?

He had such a big family. He had all these cousins and aunts and uncles and second-cousins and third-cousins twice removed and they all knew each other and it was just so, so different from her lonely, family-less existence. She had no family. She didn’t even have the orphans anymore. All she had was Scrooge.

How sad was that?

Goldie stared down at the book cover again. Scrooge’s profile was handsome. One of his hands was visible, and he was holding a gold nugget. Smaller than the goose-egg nugget, and probably just a photo prop, but it really reminded her of the nugget that started everything.

The nugget that got more paragraphs of detail in his book than she did.

---

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REAL HISTORY FACTS: - I don't believe I mention anything in Scrooge's autobiography paragraphs that wasn't already explained earlier in this fic, but if you see something where you're like 'is that real?' let me know!

DUCK FRANCHISE REFERENCES: - The quotes at the beginning are from Glomgold's flashback in the 2017 episode The Life and Crimes of Scrooge McDuck! - Scrooge has several autobiographies in DT17 canon, I think? Webby mentions a few different titles throughout the series. I didn't base this specifically off of any, I just thought it'd be fun to have a sort of recap chapter with some emotional anguish for Goldie. - Similar to the Real History section, if you see something where you're like 'is that from the comics?' just let me know!

#ducktales #scroldie #scrooge mcduck #goldie o'gilt #running in circles #fic #fics

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