Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Raistlin and Caramon
Thirteen year old Raistlin Majere was sitting under a tree in Solace, studying his book while the other boys, including Caramon, played a short distance away.
Usually, Raistlin preferred to sit inside where it was quiet, and read in solitude, but he had made an exception today for the nice weather. Spring was just ending, and Raistlin was in a rare good mood today and had decided to sit outside to enjoy the warm weather as he studied. He found himself getting distracted by a warm breeze, although he was not as annoyed by the distraction as he would normally have been.
It was a balmy day in the beginning of summer, and everyone, including Raistlin, was enjoying the weather immensely. After several minutes, Raistlin was finally able to get into his well worn book and study—although, by now, he had most of it memorized anyway. It was not a new book.
This was one of the few times in Raistlin's life that he was genuinely happy and at peace with the world. One reason for this was the warm weather after such an unusually long and harsh winter. To say that Raistlin did not like cold weather would be an understatement. He despised it.
Another reason was that the other boys, including Caramon, were too busy with sports now that winter was over to pay much attention to him. For now, anyway, he did not have to deal with the taunts of the other boys or the well meaning, but extremely aggravating concern of his obnoxious, overprotective twin. He enjoyed this time all the more because he knew that it would not last.
Suddenly, a hulking shadow blocked out Raistlin's light. He snapped his head up irately, good mood instantly shattered, replaced with his customary ill temper and cynicism. It was Caramon, with his friends—Raistlin's enemies—behind him. Caramon looked cheerful, despite having acquired a sunburn, but his friends just looked irritated or disgusted, in varying degrees.
"What?" Raistlin snarled irately, giving Caramon a death glare that said, quite clearly, 'leave me alone, you idiot!' Caramon, as usual, was oblivious.
"Hey Raist, wanna play Goblin Ball? You can help me with the tactics!"
"NO, Caramon, I don't want to play your stupid games." Raistlin went back to his book, studiously ignoring the snickers and derogatory remarks concerning his lack of athleticism. He hoped that Caramon would get the message and leave, but no such luck.
Caramon looked behind him, at the ones making the jokes.
"Hey! You shouldn't talk to him like that! It's mean!"
Raistlin managed to keep his face blank as the others, except for Caramon, left to go back to their games. Once again, he was the weakling, protected by his kind, caring twin. It made him furious. Caramon always managed to embarrass him somehow. And he really had no idea he was doing it, either. When they were alone, Raistlin glowered silently at Caramon, knowing he was in for another lecture on how 'concerned' his half-wit twin was.
"How come you won't play with us, Raist? You're always alone. Maybe if you talked to people more, they would get to like you!" Caramon grinned cluelessly, certain that Raistlin would see his logic and suddenly become social and even popular, and be eternally grateful to his brother for having saved him from a life of dreary solitude.
Raistlin's lip curled in a derisive sneer. He did not have to be psychic to know what his twin was thinking; Caramon's thoughts were written all over his face. For a moment, Raistlin struggled to formulate an answer that Caramon would understand. He soon abandoned it for a lost cause. He and Caramon were simply too different. Caramon would never understand him.
"Perhaps I do not want to be liked, my brother. Perhaps I just want to be left alone!"
Even Caramon could see that Raistlin was telling him to go away now. His face fell, his expression now resembled that of a kicked dog.
"Sure, Raist," he said, hurt. "If that's what you really want." He walked back towards where his friends were playing, looking dejected.
Raistlin sighed inwardly, but did not apologize. Apologizing would make Caramon come back, and he really did want to be left alone. Anyway, Caramon would not remain hurt for long. In about two minutes, he would be thoroughly involved in the game once more and would likely not even remember the incident.
Raistlin, however, would not get over it nearly so easily. He stalked back to the house he shared with Caramon, his good humor quite thoroughly spoiled, to resume his studying in peace.
A/N: Constructive criticism welcomed. Flames will probably be ignored. Review, please!