Why Uncle is in the Closet: Chapter II

Weird Meggin sat in her rocking chair, staring at the opposite wall. She was trying to figure out a way to move the curtain without actually touching it.

"I can do it, I know I can do it..." she muttered to herself, forcing all of her will towards the curtain.

Weird Meggin frowned in concentration when a sudden banging sounded from her front door. She jumped from her seat in startlement, then back again as her rocking chair fell back once more. Grumbling, she got up a little slower and wobbled to the door. She drew it open and glowered at Caramon, who stood panting on her doorstep. Over his shoulder he had slung Raistlin like a sack of potatoes.

"Well, what is it?" she snarled in annoyance.

Caramon took in a few large breaths, then managed to gasp out, "Raistlin fell!"

The old crone took one look at the limp, red form of Raistlin, and waved Caramon inside. After clearing the table, she motioned Caramon to put Raistlin on it. The big warrior lay his twin gently upon the wooden surface. It did not take long for Meggin to make her final assessment. One casual glance, actually.

"He's dead."

Caramon stared at her a moment, a passive expression on his face. When he did not move after several minutes, she eyed him critically. She expected him to be upset (hell, she was a bit upset herself, she had liked the little bugger), but a response of some kind would have been helpful.

"No he's not..." Caramon began slowly, mostly to himself.

Weird Meggin sighed. Denial was expected, but she would have to break it to him. She knew the young man was very attached to his brother and would not move on very easily.

"Boy, I know it is difficult to face, but your brother has moved on to the next world. See?" she explained, lifting Raistlin's cold arm and letting it drop back to the table lifelessly. "You're just going to have to accept it."

"No...he's tired..." murmured Caramon, still staring at his brother, a look of terror frozen on his golden features.

"He's dead."

"No, he just fell..."

"Looks like he's been crushed to me."

"...Under a wagon...?"

"Riiight..."

"You're wrong!" the big man exploded, pointing an accusing finger at her, "What do you know!? You're...you're just weird! With a wolf on your doorstep!"

"The wolf is dead, boy."

"No he's not!" Caramon burst into tears; he'd had enough. He quickly snatched up his brother and headed toward the door.

"He's just sick! The mages did this to him!" he continued, glaring at the old woman over his shoulder. "C'mon Raist, let's go! We don't need her!" And he slammed the door behind him.

Weird Meggin shook her head. She'd miss the Majere lad, but it looked like there wasn't going to be a funeral anytime soon. But for now, she had more important things in mind.

Settling back into her rocking chair she returned to concentrating on the curtain. When it suddenly moved! She leapt to her feet and cried in triumph:

"I've done it!"

Until she noticed it was merely the breeze left from the shutting door that had stirred it. She fell back into her chair, moaning.

Darkkender: "sloth" is something I picked up at camp, invented by the boys. You creep up to a person, make like a sloth, and then drape on them with all your weight, and drag them down with you. Caramon took it a step further and apparently tackled poor Raistlin.

Pineapplelint: Yes, we know.

RoguesHeart: Yes, we had to break Raistlin. Don't worry, he's still a major character in the story XD

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