It was the Festival of the Greens in Upper Folding, and Howl was resolutely refusing to go.
"Howl," said Sophie firmly, from where he sat on the bed with his arms folded, "Let's not be stubborn." She took a solid grasp of his arm and dragged it out from his body in an attempt to stuff it in the sleeve she had waiting. Howl's limp hand was almost in the opening when it slid out of her grasp and he crossed his arms again. Sophie was visited with the desire to smack him upside the head. "Howl!"
"I'm not going," Howl said, "And you can't make me." He glared at Sophie from across the expanse of bed. Sophie felt that he was being silly and said so, in a very blunt sort of way.
"You're a wizard, not a baby, and I would like you to behave as such!" she told him, narrowing her eyes at his slouched frame. "Now get up and put your robe on, so we can leave!"
Markl's voice echoed from downstairs. "Are you ready yet?" he whined, probably fidgeting because he wanted to go see all the street performers, which Howl had told him walked on stilts.
"Howl isn't going," Sophie called back, "Or at least he says he won't."
"What?" Markl appeared at the landing, looking panicky. "But Howl! This is the biggest event of the year!."
Howl looked a little guilty at Markl's obvious horror, and an idea sprang into Sophie's head. It was so simple, she wasn't sure how she'd missed it.
"Well," she said, bravely, her voice trembling a little, "I…you can go, Markl. Howl and I will stay." She bent her head so that her hair swooped over her face and stared at her tightly clasped hands.
"What?" Howl asked, sounding confused. "What?"
"What?" Markl added, intelligently. "But Sophie! That's all you've talked about this week!"
"No, no, it's okay," Sophie insisted. "Really. I don't want to go if Howl isn't and he…" she shook her head. "Anyway, Markl, pick me up a cake if you go, I've been dying for one lately."
"I – okay?" Markl said, sounding confused. "I mean, I guess…if that's what--"
"Oh, fine!" said Howl suddenly, and he swung his legs off the bed, muttering. "You," he said accusingly, pointing a Sophie, "Know exactly how to manipulate a heart, and I don't like it!" Sophie assumed an appropriately alarmed expression.
"Howl? You silly wizard, sit down, you said you were feeling sick!"
"I lied and you know it, you sneaky little woman," snapped Howl, seizing his robe and pulling it over his head in an ill-tempered manner. "But you are not missing this festival, not if I can help it!"
Sophie threw her arms around him. "Oh Howl, thank you!" she cried, and kissed his on the cheek. "I'm going to go get ready!" she breezed from the room looking positively giddy.
Markl shot Howl an odd look, to which his response was, "Oh, shut up."
****
Howl was attempting to teach Sophie the proper use of her magic. "Okay, Sophie, so try this yourself this time."
Sophie shot him a determined look and rolled up her sleeves. She carefully measured and poured ingredients into a small stone bowl at her elbow. When she was done, she carried it over to Calcifer and held it above him, gingerly, keeping her hands away from the flames. The ingredients refused to catch on fire.
Sophie gave them her most intimidating glare and Howl, sensing potential danger, began to walk over – but Sophie had had enough. "Burn, I command you, burn into ash!" she snapped at the bowl, and the powder inside roared into a bonfire. Sophie found herself utterly terrified and holding a bowl full of fire.
"Stop! Stop!" Howl yelped behind her, and sent streams of magic at the bowl in a desperate bid to quench the flames. It was no use; the bowl caught on fire, too. With a scream, Sophie let it go and crouched over her hands in pain, clenching them together in an attempt to soothe her blistered palms. The flaming bowl rolled over the floorboards, igniting everything it touched. Calcifer watched with wide eyes.
Howl was torn between racing to Sophie and calming her down or running after the bowl; in the end, because he would rather not see Sophie burn into a crisp, he chased the bowl first and put it out by dumping water on it. Lots of water. The stone bowl was completely ruined. How on earth had Sophie managed to set stone on fire? Without really realizing it, Howl started to smile.
Once the bowl was completely out and merely sitting on the floor in a charred lump, he went over to Sophie. At first everything seemed fine; then, he realized she was crying. His heart did a funny jump. "Sophie?" he asked, carefully. She looked at him with wide eyes full of tears, more of them sliding down her pale cheeks, and held out her hands to him. Howl winced at the damage. They were burnt raw, skin bubbling around the wounds that were oozing. "Oh, Sophie, how did you manage to set the bowl on fire?" he sighed, and she hiccupped.
"It wasn't burning," she finally managed, "And I wanted it to work this time, really I did, and you just seemed so annoyed with me and I wanted it…I wanted it to work!" She started sobbing again, and Howl, without really thinking, pulled her into a hug.
It was nice. He thought she should have tensed and pulled away, but their bodies fit together quite nicely indeed. Then she did try to pull away, but he decided he wouldn't let her, and tightened his hold.
Sophie mumbled something. "What was that?" he asked pleasantly. Sophie's mumbling increased in urgency, but Howl refused to relinquish her. A wicked spark was dancing in his eyes. "I don't believe I heard you, Sophie love." The mumbles halted – and then there was an excruciating pain in his kneecaps. He staggered backward as Sophie danced the opposite way.
"I said, I have to go bandage my hands!" Sophie, filled with righteous indignation, stalked off towards the bathroom, but hadn't got two steps before Howl's hand circled her wrist.
"You keep forgetting you live with a wizard!" Howl pouted, and, taking both of her hands, mumbled a spell under his breath. Almost instantly, the wounds closed and healed, skin knitting neatly over to form a perfect palm. "There, you impudent witch, you're all healed."
Sophie's tears, thank goodness, were dried, but she was left staring at her hands like a miracle had occurred. Finally, she looked up and him, tilting her head to the side, and said, "That was the nicest thing anyone's ever done for me." Howl stared at her. "I guess I'll just have to repay it in kind." Her arms wound around his neck and her hands twined into his black hair and she kissed him. It wasn't steamy, definitely not lust-filled, but for some reason it was the nicest thing Howl had ever received. She smiled very softly when it was done and went off to give Calcifer more logs.
****
Howl was ill and Sophie was having no luck making him better. She had prepared a special soup for him, but he was refusing all food.
"Howl," Sophie said sternly, "I spent five hours making this and you're going to eat it."
Howl twisted his head into his pillow and said, "No." Above him, a glittering pinwheel dripping with jewels spun briefly, although there was no wind. Howl glanced at it and shook his head ruefully.
"'No' is not an option," Sophie sighed. "Howl, it's all broth, there's no food chunks in it, I promise. Open up."
"No!" Howl said. "I refuse--" Sophie neatly popped the spoon in his mouth. The minute the soup hit his throat, Howl experienced a relief so acute he sagged down in his pillows. His sore throat stopped throbbing, his nose stopped dripping, and his watering eyes cleared. Sitting up, he snatched the bowl from the silver-haired girl opposite him and began drinking greedily, leaving the spoon in Sophie's hand.
Sophie sat back and rolled her eyes. "Well, really!" she scolded, as he gulped the soup in a very un-gentlemanly fashion. "You, Howl Jenkins, are the most two faced man I've ever met and a slither-outer to boot." She watched him for a minute as he completely ignored her and continued to attack the soup. Without her knowledge, her eyes softened imperceptibly and a smile curved over her face, softening her cheekbones.
A sudden pattering of feet jerked her from her reverie, and Sophie shot up and glanced around to see Markl, Calcifer floating aside of him, both peering anxiously at Howl.
"I hate not being connected to his heart!" whined Calcifer. "I can't tell how he's feeling at all."
"Master Howl looks better, at least," Markl observed, watching the wizard drain the last bits of soup and look content.
"I feel better, Markl!" enthused Howl. "In fact, I think I'll…" he stopped, looking puzzled, and suddenly crumpled sideways onto his pillows, quite unconscious.
"Well, thank goodness," sighed Sophie, plucking the bowl from his limp grasp. "I was starting to think that sleeping potion would never take effect. Now we can get things done, instead of racing around obeying his every command. If he asked me to bring him one more Kleenex, I might have snapped."
Howl woke up ten hours later, feeling distinctly tricked.
****
It was official; he was stunningly handsome. Tossing his head, Howl examined his chiseled face in the mirror, stunned all over again at the perfection shining through in every quality. He was to-die-for attractive. Flawless skin and sparkling blue eyes with sleek black hair and an attractive, straight nose.
He could hardly stand it. Looking at himself was obviously like looking at a God. His slim, athletic build only enhanced his face, with attractive long fingers and feet that were manly but not too large.
Damn. He was simply head-turning. Howl turned and threw himself in profile, posing against the sink with a devil-may-care kind of lean, winking roguishly at himself. Then he twisted again, back to the mirror, but turned his face around and inclined his head gracefully at the mirror. And back to the side, tipping his fingers at the mirror in an attractive way, and facing front again, swinging his hair in front of one eye and – quiet laughter had him spinning around like a graceful cat.
Sophie was doubled over in the doorframe, clutching her stomach and wheezing with laughter. "Oh, Howl…" she panted, tears of mirth in her eyes, "When you…saluted the mirror…oh!" she dissolved into laughter again. "And then you spun…around!" This time, her bubbly laugh became louder and she collapsed against the wall, crying from amusement. Howl felt insulted.
"I was making sure I was still attractive," he said aloofly. "Beauty is a fickle thing."
Sophie was laughing too hard to respond.
****
It was cleaning day; consequently, Sophie was down on her knees, scrubbing the floor viciously where the bowl had burnt it. Howl came sauntering in from the bathroom smelling heavily of tulips and cinnamon. Calcifer, who was in the hearth because it was raining, wrinkled his nose and muttered, "Using Sophie's perfumes?"
Howl looked confused. "What?" Sophie felt a dark red blush creep up her neck. "No, I can assure you these perfumes are one hundred percent mine. Sophie doesn't use perfumes. Sophie doesn't even use that bathroom!"
"Her hair smelled like cinnamon and tulips this morning," said Clacifer, and then it dawned on him and a wicked grin creased the flames around his mouth. "Why, Sophie! You naughty girl! Have you and Howl been cavorting about in the bedsheets?"
Markl, who had been reading by the window, looked confused. "No, Cal, she hasn't done the laundry in a while," he pointed out.
Sophie jumped to her own defense. "He hugged me yesterday, that was all!" she told Calcifer, pointing the scrub-brush menacingly, "And there was no cavorting to be had!" Howl looked slightly disappointed by this fact. "Honestly, the things demons can think up!"
"Is cavorting with me really such a horror?" asked Howl, looking hurt.
Sophie sputtered. "I…I…I am a proper lady, not some kind of…peddler of her wares!" She thumped the scrub brush into the bucket and suds flew. Sophie's hair even looked flustered – it floated about her head in little frizzy strands.
"Peddler of her wares?" Howl looked amused. "Dear heart, you seem to have so much contempt for that occupation."
"Dear heart!" cried Sophie, feeling trapped. "The nicknames you come up with are obnoxious, Howl. I much preferred Ms. Witch and Long Nose to 'dear heart' and 'cariad' and 'mooi meisje' and--"
Calcifer cut her off. "He calls you cariad?"
"All the time!" cried Sophie. "And I'm sure it's an insult, or some sort of reference to my old-womanish ways, or something of that ilk!"
"No," Calcifer said, staring hard at Howl, "It's Welsh. It actually means --"
Howl cut through neatly by saying, "Calcifer, I wish you would be quiet so I don't have to throw you out into the rain. Sophie, stop pondering and prodding where you don't belong and keep cleaning. Markl, I'll train you later when the rain lets up." And he swooshed back into his room.
****
Howl had had quite enough of this 'dancing around each other' foolishness. For weeks, Sophie would make eye contact and then look away, blushing fiercely. Howl kept tripping over things when she came into a room with him. Damn Calcifer and his extensive knowledge of the Welsh language! Cariad was a word he felt comfortable using precisely because Sophie hadn't the faintest idea what it meant. Well, no matter.
He walked downstairs and saw Sophie standing by the sink, scrubbing a dish, face screwed up in concentration, and sighed mentally. She would never learn. "Woman!" he barked, slightly more harshly than intended, "Must I keep up the reminders you live with a wizard?" With a flick of the wrist, the dishes were clean and swept out of the sink, into the cupboards. Sophie gave a small shriek of surprise and then whirled to face him, face thunderous.
"Howl Jenkins," she snarled, advancing on him alarmingly, "You will never, NEVER address me in such a fashion ever again. Is. This. Clear?" She had him backed up against the window seat and she was storming forward, silver hair all around her face, and suddenly Howl got a moment of blind inspiration and seized her wrists and yanked her close and kissed her.
For a minute, she remained rigid and unmoving against him; then, suddenly, she fell into him like melted chocolate and everything was Sophie. The scent of her hair was filling his nose, delicate lilac and clean laundry-smelling, and her hands were running round his shoulders and her mouth was moving against his and her whole body was aching upwards as though she was trying to fuse them together at the seams. They remained this way for quite some time – until the window gave out. There was the rattling of a hinge popping out of place and suddenly they were falling.
Sophie clutched Howl tighter, but he didn't mind, and with a cleverly cast spell they floated down to earth like feathers. It took him a minute to realize Sophie was actually laughing, not panicking or shrieking, as they drifted downward into the flower field. Both tumbled upon landing until they were side by side, so Sophie crawled up to be eye level with Howl and kissed him very delicately, before flopping back and observing the sky with him.
They remained this way until the stars were out and Markl yelled out the window (or rather the space where there should have been a window) that he was hungry and Calcifer had burnt his fingers when he tried to make dinner. Sophie, smiling for all the world, got up to go inside, but Howl snagged her ankle and pulled her back down.
"This means," he told her firmly, "No more silly shyness and avoidances."
Sophie only titled her head for a minute, and then intertwined her fingers and made to pull him up. "Silly Howl, you were avoiding me. I would have been quite happy to talk to you. It was after that whole 'cariad' silliness. By the way, that means 'dearly beloved', I wrangled it out of Calcifer at least three months ago, and I've been waiting for you to use it so I could tell you it right back. Instead you went and picked a fight."
"What?" said Howl.
"Don't bother your head, darling," said Sophie. "Come in and help me bully Calcifer."
They went in together, hands intertwined.
A/N: Sooo…that was fun to write with the disjointed style and such. For those wondering, "mooi meisje" means 'beautiful girl.' And I kinda tried to incorporate the book with the movie a little, but went more for the movie since that's what I'm putting it under. Ahhh I love oneshots; they're so low-maintenance lol
And hey, if you feel so inclined, you should review. REALLY. Please? Feedback makes me joyful.