Ludwig and Matilda:
A Love Story

A Ducktales Fanfic by LuvvyDuck (E. Grimes)

Disclaimer: Characters of Ludwig von Drake, Scrooge and Matilda McDuck, and the rest of the Disney
Ducks are the sole copyrights of the Walt Disney Co. The Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck is (c) by
Don Rosa and by Gemstone Publishing. This story, which is my own copyright and may not be used
without permission, is written only in the spirit of fandom and with all due respect to the original
copyright owners. (In other words, thanks for not sueing me! -LuvvyDuck)

Author's Note:

This story was inspired by the works of Don Rosa. His famous concept of Ludwig Von Drake's marriage to Matilda McDuck, Scrooge's
sister, never actually made it to the comics-so this is only a possible story of how it happened. Thanks to Rosa's The Life and Times
of Scrooge McDuck I had plenty of reference material, but I'm also drawing from bits of Walt Disney's Wonderful World of Color and tiny
bits of Ducktales (though technically this should either be in the Disney section or the Comics category). Because certain parts of this
story will require it, I had to move up Don Rosa's timeline by a decade or more to synch in more with the WDWWC and Ducktales
timelines, so that Ludwig and Matilda are somewhat younger when they meet up). However, I'll be as faithful as possible to Don
Rosa's works, and I hope he and his fans will forgive any liberties I take in these chapters.

If some of this story doesn't seem to make much sense, it'll all come together in the chapters to follow.

Prologue:
Bittersweet Memories

"Are you kids sure you want to stop off here?" Donald asked as he was driving Huey, Dewey and Louie to Professor Ludwig Von Drake's residence.

"Well, yeah, Uncle Donald," Huey replied. "He said he's got lots of old stuff for our Junior Woodchucks charity drive!"

"Whatcha worried about, Uncle Donald?" asked Dewey. "I thought you liked Uncle Ludwig."

"He might be kinda weird, but he's pretty nice," put in Louie.

"Nice and crazy, you mean," Donald pointed out. "I love him, boys, but I sure don't like visiting his lab!" He shuddered as he remembered the horrific experiments the eccentric scientist had tried on him in the past.

"Well, if he's crazy, Uncle Donald, it's a wonder you and him don't get along better!" Huey joked as his brothers giggled.
Donald glared back at them in his rear view mirror and muttered under his breath.

The Junior Woodchucks were having a charity drive for a homeless shelter, and the triplets were collecting used clothing and household items from as many relatives and family friends as they could. Not surprisingly, Scrooge McDuck refused to cough up more than some faded cuff links and a couple of ratty old sweaters; Mrs. Vanderbeek, Webby, Daisy, Grandma Duck, Gyro Gearloose and even Gladstone Gander were far more generous. Professor Von Drake had promised to have a box of old clothing ready for the boys at his place, so they were on their way now to pick it up.

"I'll tell you what-why don't you kids just run in and get those things of Ludwig's, while I wait in the car?" Donald suggested anxiously as they pulled up to the place. But to his dismay, the professor had been watching for them at his window and now came running right up to the car.

"Allo dere, boys! Come into da lab!" he exclaimed happily in his thick Austrian accent. Before Donald had time to protest, Ludwig had yanked open the car door and was eagerly tugging his nephew's arm.

"Ah, we're just here for a few minutes, Uncle Ludwig," Donald stammered. "We'll just get that box of clothes and go…"

"Ach, nonsense, nephew! Dere's plenty a' time for a teensy liddle visit! Come into da house, boys," Ludwig told the triplets. "I gots milk an' nice hot cookies for ya. An' you too, Donald."

The minute they heard "cookies", Huey, Dewey and Louie gleefully helped the professor drag Donald into the house. "Please, Uncle Donald!
Uncle Ludwig made cookies!" they insisted.

Their uncle rolled his eyes. "Oh, okay. But Ludwig, no experiments on me, will you please?"

The professor blinked innocently. "Vat you mean, Donald? Dat last one weren't so bad…"

"You burned off my tail feathers!" snapped his nephew. Ludwig shrugged.

"I put da fire right out, yes? Now, alla you have a looksy around da lab, while I get da milk an' cookies."

As usual, the Von Drake lab was buzzing with activity. Literally buzzing: Ludwig's latest experiment involved a makeshift beehive covered in glass, which stood close to his work table. Donald glanced uneasily at the large honeybees swarming through the hive, but the nephews
were fascinated.

"This is a cool lab, Uncle Ludwig!" Louie declared as the professor brought in the refreshments.

"Why, t'ank you."

"Yeah, being a scientist must be a lotta fun!" Dewey supposed.

"How do you get to be one?" Huey asked with his beak full of cookie.

Always delighted to share his knowledge, Ludwig clutched the lapels of his lab coat with a proud grin. "Well, ya see boys-ya gots ta study real hard at school! Ya gots ta learn chemistry, physics, da arithmetic…"

"Math? YUK!" cried the nephews in disgust.

"Maybe we'll just start a rock band?" suggested Huey. The professor chuckled.

"No matter what you boys wanna be," he advised firmly, "Ya gots ta stay in school an' learn your lessons—an' do da homework!"

"You're darn tootin'!" Donald added, with a stern glance at the triplets, who quickly decided to talk about something else.

"What's that you're working on, Uncle Ludwig?" Louie questioned, pointing at the beehive.

"Oh, dat?" Ludwig answered excitedly. "Glad ya asked, boys—I'm inventin' a cure for bee stings!"

"Oh?" Donald asked dubiously. He could just about predict where this was going.

"Bee stings?" repeated Dewey. "Uncle Donald got stung by a bunch of bees last summer…"

"Yeah, remember that, Uncle Donald?" Huey added. "We were out on that picnic with Aunt Daisy, and you knocked down
that beehive…"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! Let's change the subject, okay?" begged Donald, who broke out in a cold sweat at the gleam in Ludwig's
eye-a gleam that always made Donald wonder: How's Ludwig going to torture me this time?

"Ha! Not a problem, boys!" commented the professor, blissfully unaware of the panic he was causing his nephew. "Da Professor
will find a cure for dat, don't you worry. Off course," he added thoughtfully, "I will need someone for to test it—ah, Donald?"

"Sorry, Ludwig, we gotta go now!" cried Donald, jumping up hastily. "Didn't you tell us yesterday you've got a box
of old stuff for the kids?"

"Oh ja, ja. Dey're in mine room. Can you kiddies get it? I gots a lotta stuffs to do right here," Ludwig declared, with some disappointment
that his "guinea pig" was rushing off so soon.

"Okay, thanks!" answered the triplets as they ran off to the professor's room, leaving Donald at his nutty uncle's mercy.

"Don't be such a scarey-dy cat, Donald!" Ludwig reproved good-naturedly. "I only mean vell. I vouldn't want you ta help
me if I didn't like you!"

"I suppose," sighed Donald. After all, for all his crazy (and often exasperating) behavior, Ludwig had a kind heart and did have only
the best motives in mind. He had married Scrooge McDuck's sister, Matilda, years ago; but they had never had children, so Ludwig
quickly adopted his wife's relatives. It was, in fact, his particular affection for Donald that made the hapless duck the object of his
uncle's disastrous experiments. If he just didn't nearly kill me all the time, brooded Donald.

Meanwhile Huey, Dewey and Louie were searching around Ludwig's room for the box of old clothes he was donating.

"Wow," Louie said, laughing, "Uncle Ludwig's room is even messier than ours !"

"Yeah. Why doesn't Uncle Donald like visiting him?" wondered Huey. "The Professor's a pretty cool guy."

"Even if he is kinda nutty," finished Dewey. "Hey, is that the box, fellas?"

He pointed to a large pasteboard box sitting in the closet; but his brothers saw a similar box at the foot of Ludwig's bed.
"It's probably this one," Louie said.

But Dewey had noticed a piece of a woman's scarf peeking out of the box in the closet. "It's gotta be this one, guys. That's
a lady's scarf. Uncle Ludwig wouldn't wear that, would he?"

"He can't be that nutty," Huey insisted. "That's gotta be the box, then."

"Hey, will you kids hurry up?" Donald called nervously.

"Comin', Uncle Donald!" they called back, picking up the box and carrying it out as carefully as they could; but they still managed to
drop it on their uncle's foot.

"Owwwww!" Donald yelped, tilting the box to get loose. "Let me have that thing, you guys!"

Nobody noticed a small object falling from the box as Donald struggled with it.

"Oh, Donald…is you sure you can't help me out wit' my liddle experiment?" wheedled Ludwig.

"Sorry, Ludwig—we've gotta run!" replied his nephew, with one last frightened glance at the beehive. "Come on, boys—say 'bye
and thank you to your Uncle Ludwig!"

"G'bye, Uncle Ludwig!"

"Thanks for the old clothes…"

"…and the milk and cookies!"

Ludwig followed them to the door and waved. "All righty, boys. T'anks for stopping by, an' please come an' see da Professor again!"

He closed his door with a sigh. "Why can't dey haf stayed just a bit longer?" he said wistfully. "Well, back ta work."

As he started to walk back to his lab, Ludwig almost stepped on something lying in the middle of the room.

"Hmm? What can dat be…?" he muttered, frowning slightly as he picked up a small cloth flower. He adjusted his spectacles to look
at it more closely, but gave a painful gasp when he recognized what it was.

"Gott im Himmel!" he cried. "No, no...it can't be..."

It was a lavender-colored silk daisy that Matilda had once worn in her hair. When she died some years back, Ludwig put several
of her old clothes and various other keepsakes into a box to be stored away. He had not opened that box in a very great while,
and had not given it any thought when he sent the triplets to fetch that other box of old clothes. Hoping he was somehow mistaken,
the professor rushed to his room, only to find his fears confirmed: absent-minded as usual, he'd been so preoccupied with his work
that he had given Donald and the boys the wrong box.

Hoping to catch them before they left, Ludwig raced to the door and jerked it open-just in time to see Donald's car zipping down
the street.

"Wait, wait!" he called frantically, but the four were already out of sight and sound. He hurried to the telephone, thinking he might
catch Donald on his cell before they all got to the thrift store.

"Please, Donald…please, pick up!" he begged, his heart pounding at the horrible mistake he had made.

Unfortunately, Donald's cell phone was off. It would have done no good to leave a message on his home phone; by the time he and
the triplets returned, the precious mementos of Ludwig and Matilda's marriage would be…God knows where.

Sadly, the professor hung up and slunk into his room, staring helplessly at the now-empty space in his closet. "What haf I done?"
he moaned.

Not knowing who else to turn to, he picked up his bedside phone and called Scrooge. The multi-millionaire duck happened to be in
his favorite spot—his money bin—when Ludwig called.

"Nine-thousand, nine-hundred and ninety-eight, nine-thousand, nine hundred and ninety-nine…" Scrooge was counting
happily, when his cell phone rang.

"Burst me bagpipes!" he growled. "Can't a man count his money in peace?"

He was naturally cranky when anyone interrupted his privacy (especially if it was a relative). Yet he and Ludwig got along reasonably
well, though Scrooge was often dubious about his brother-in-law's visits or phone calls-wondering, like Donald, what psychotic thing
the professor was up to this time.

"Och, it's you, Ludwig," he sighed, raising up a martyred glance. "What is it now?"

He was surprised at the desperate and distressed tone on the other end; Ludwig usually spoke quite cheerfully (unless he happened
to be mad). But as Scrooge listened, he straightened up from his counting-table with a worried frown.

"Donald and the boys did what?"

"Ach, Scroogie, dey took away poor Matilda's things—your sister's things!" came Ludwig's anguished voice.

"But...but how could that have happened? How did it happen?" Scrooge demanded in horror.

"I…I just got a old box of clothes an' things for da boys, for dat charity t'ing. I was busy in mine lab an' told dem, 'go get da box'. I
didn't think dey'd get da wrong one!" the professor stammered. He shook his head in despair. "Oh, Scroogie…mine an' Matilda's
love letters, our wedding pictures, everyt'ing I had from mine poor wife…dey're gone, Scroogie, gone! Please, you got to stop
Donald an' da boys from giving dose t'ings away!"

"Now ye've got to calm down, Ludwig," Scrooge said firmly. "I'll go out and look for them right now!"

"Oh t'ank you…t'ank you!" At this point, Ludwig was in tears. "Oh Scroogie, it iss all mine fault…I am sorry...I am so sorry!"

"It's all right, Ludwig. I promise, I'll look to this. Now get ye a cup o' tea and rest yourself, for the love of Heaven."

Scrooge could hardly blame Ludwig for being so upset—he was fairly sick himself about the possible loss of his sister's things. But
years of hard work and hard times had taught the last of the Clan McDuck that it was action, not emotion, that would take care of
the problem.

Donald and the triplets had dropped the items off at the thrift store and were on their way back when Scrooge's limo
pulled up, and a stern-faced Scrooge McDuck motioned out the window for Donald to stop and pull over.

"What's wrong?" Donald asked, as Scrooge walked quickly over to the car.

"Did ye joost get back from that thrift shop?" Scrooge demanded.

"Well, yeah…"

"Then ye're goin' right back!"

Donald blinked stupidly. "What for?" he asked, with surprise at the anger and anxiety in his uncle's face.

"Joost drive, nephew!" barked Scrooge, climbing into the passenger's side. "I'll tell ye on the way—and step on it!"

"What's the matter, Uncle Scrooge?" Huey wanted to know.

As Scrooge told them exactly what was the matter, Donald's jaw dropped. The triplets had only known their Aunt Matilda a short time,
but Donald definitely remembered her-and he was aghast that the boys had taken Ludwig's precious keepsakes.

"How could you kids do that?" he questioned sharply.

"But we didn't know, Uncle Donald," Dewey said weakly.

"We shoulda asked Uncle Ludwig what box to take…" finished Louie.

"Indeed. And ye should've gone with them, Donald!" Scrooge pointed out. "Ludwig is very upset—the man was most near crying! It
wouldn't surprise me if he took right to his bed over this." He sighed heavily and stared ahead of him. "I could do without this meself."

The three boys were deeply troubled by their great uncle's mood; his frown was certainly nothing new to them, but there was a certain
sadness in his eyes that told an old and sorrowful story all its own.

"We're sorry, Uncle Scrooge," they said meekly.

"I know ye are, boys," he answered them quietly. "Ye knew no better."

"We'll try to get Aunt Matilda's things back," Donald promised.

"We will get those things back," declared Scrooge, "if I have to buy out the whole dratted store!"

Ludwig sat huddled up on his sofa, bewildered and heartbroken. He had brewed some chamomile tea to calm him, but
could only take a few weak sips. Not surprisingly, he had no appetite for dinner.

He was sick—literally sick—about the loss of his box; yet he didn't blame Donald or the triplets. They had only made an honest
mistake; the fault, Ludwig was certain, had been his own.

"How could I haf let dat happen?" he asked himself miserably, as he gently fingered the faded silk flower.

His anxious mind could recount every keepsake in that lost box—even the tiniest reminder of the life he and Matilda had shared. Old
love letters; an album filled with photos, some from their very own wedding. Hats and scarves that Matilda had once treasured; little
trinkets that Ludwig had bought her. All of these things, and many others, that he'd shut up in that box after losing her. How long
had these things lay hidden? Yet in only a few minutes, he had mindlessly given away the last relics of the only woman he had ever
loved—or planned to ever love again.

With these thoughts haunting his mind, Ludwig nuzzled and kissed the silk daisy with tears running down his face. "Matilda, liebling,"
he whispered, "please, forgive me…"

The doorbell rang and nearly scared the professor out of his wits. He stared anxiously at the door, wishing that whoever it was
would just go away. But his heart lifted at the sound of his nephew's voice.

"Ludwig?" called Donald. "Are you home?"

Praying that it was good news, Ludwig ran to the door and flung it open. There stood Donald and the triplets, the precious box
at their feet.

"We brought your stuff back, Uncle Ludwig," Huey announced.

"Yeah, Uncle Scrooge made us go back and get them," said Dewey. "We took him back home before we came here."

Ludwig felt as if a great weight had been lifted off of him. He staggered against the door out of sheer relief, and Donald quickly took
the professor's arm to steady him.

"Are you okay?" he asked in concern; his uncle did look like he had taken the situation pretty hard.

"Oh ja, ja!" Ludwig cried joyfully. "T'ank you so much for bringin' dat back, boys!"

"We're really sorry, Uncle Ludwig," Louie told him. "We didn't mean to worry you like that."

"It iss okay, boys!" the professor insisted, laughing lightly as if the situation hadn't mattered.

"The people at the thrift store said they hadn't even gone through the box yet," Donald recalled, "but you might want to check and
make sure everything's there."

"We'll go get that other box, Uncle Ludwig," Huey offered, "but could you show us which one this time?"

But Ludwig now seemed very tired. "We do dat t'morrow, okay, boys?" he suggested. He was anxious to be alone, and for once
didn't care to drag Donald into his lab for yet another frightful experiment. Of course, this puzzled his nephew; but he wasn't
about to tempt fate.

"Are you sure you're all right, Ludwig?" he asked, seeing his uncle's weary expression.

"Ja. I am just tired now, Donald," Ludwig answered with a weak smile. "Go, go now. I will see you all tomorrow."

He patted Donald and the boys' heads and urged them out of the house, then quickly shut the door behind them. The four of
them stood on the porch, blinking in confusion and concern.

"Gee…Uncle Ludwig must really be bummed out," Louie said.

"Yeah. He didn't ask us to stay this time," added Dewey.

"Or offer us any more cookies," Huey finished glumly. "You think he's mad at us, Uncle Donald?"

Donald was just as stunned as they were. "He didn't act like it, boys, so I guess he's not. Maybe he just needs some time alone
for awhile. Anyway," he continued, "let's get out of here, kids—before he changes his mind and yanks me into that lab again!"

As they all got back in the car, Donald glanced back at the Von Drake residence and shook his head—wondering if he would ever
figure his eccentric uncle out.

Ludwig gawked at the box, wishing hed let Donald and the boys take it back to his bedroom. It was rather heavy and bulky for
him to carry by himself, but he had wanted his privacy while checking through the contents. And that was going to be the most
difficult thing of all.

For some years he had not opened that box. He hadn't so much as looked at the things inside of it, for there was not a single
article that didn't hold memories that were once beautiful...but were now painful. Ludwig had kept all these things stored away,
for it had simply hurt him too much to even glance at them...yet the thought of losing them had hurt even more. He would have
trusted his brother-in-law with them, but Scrooge was just as pained about the idea; he had his own share of sorrow and regret
for his departed sister.

Telling himself that life—and his work—must both go on, he had carried on with his studies, his lectures, his inventions…and the
tokens of his lost love had been pushed aside in his mind, just barely within his subconscious.

Until now.

But Ludwig's studies in psychology had taught him that he could not continue to bury his grief. Sooner or later, he realized, he
would have to face the past-and the emotional demons it brought up.

One thing was certain; he couldn't do it in silence. Since classical music so often soothed him, Ludwig went over to his stereo
and put on an opera record. Then he pushed the box over to the sofa and sat down with a tired sigh.

Did he have to do this? Did he have to look again at objects that had once brought happiness, but could now only bring
heartache-like the opening again of a grave?

Yes...he had to.

Ludwig's hands shook as he opened the box and hastily sifted through its items. Fortunately, everything seemed to be there, but
he had to choke back a lump in his throat when he smelled a delicate perfume that still clung to one of Matilda's scarves. Devon
Violets...it had been one of her favorite colognes. Matilda had always loved anything to do with flowers,and shortly after their
wedding Ludwig had built a greenhouse and filled it with all sorts of flowering plants...for her.

Quickly, Ludwig shoved the scarves to the bottom of the box, feeling that he had faced enough of the past for now; but as he did
so, his hand touched something hard and leather-bound. He recognized it as an old photograph album, slightly yellowed with age
but still in good condition. Reluctantly, the professor fished it out. It was filled with several family photos, including a few old pictures
of his parents. Many of the pictures were of Ludwig and Matilda's wedding, and some that were made in the years that followed.

To go through that album, of all things, would be especially hard; but it was as if a voice in Ludwig's head kept saying: Yes-you
must look at this, too.

And as an overture from Wagner played softly from his stereo, Ludwig drew a shaky breath, and slowly opened the album to begin a bittersweet journey through the past…

End Chapter I

Looks like the "gothic writer" of fanfic has struck again. But this isn't all going to be heartbreaking—you'll find some very sweet moments
in some of the chapters to come. And so you'll know LuvvyDuck isn't all a rainy day, I'm hoping to do a funny story about Ludwig and
Scrooge in the very near future! By the way, I submitted this to the Ducktales category, though it follows the comics more than the show.
The "Disney" category covers way too much territory, and I didn't want this lost in the shuffle.

Note on Ludwig's accent-I tried to keep it softer than you often hear with him; but if he didn't have some kind of accent, he just
wouldn't be Ludwig von Drake. Anyhoo, hope you enjoyed, and please be patient about the remaining chapters!