Wistful Thinking
"Do you think it's important to know what you want from life, Howl?" Sophie Pendragon asked wistfully, as she looked out from the castle's square window. This particular window always opened onto a lush meadow, north of Ingary where she had grown up. This meadow was where her husband, the Great Wizard Howl, had swallowed a fallen star, where he'd spent many hours of his childhood, and it was also his special present to her a few months before they were married. This particular meadow was Sophie's favorite place, aside from the moving castle itself, and usually wherever her husband Howl was—'usually' meaning, when he wasn't throwing a sticky green fit, or doing something worryingly stupid or compulsive. With Howl, either or was generally one and the same.
Howl, who had been passing by the room quietly, stopped midstep as a curious look crossed his handsome face. The nature of the question confused him, as well as the person who asked it, and the manner in which she did. Sophie was hardly ever pensive. She was loving and clever, and intelligent, but also quite practical. She only seemed to concern herself with the 'ifs' when necessary. So at least her phrasing made sense to Howl: her back was to him, as she leaned leisurely on the windowsill, and she sounded entirely content. She could be rather thoughtful when she wanted to be, thought Howl. But usually, this question was asked with a certain degree of trepidation. Yet, not with Sophie.
"Howl, I know you're there," Sophie said, half turning to meet him eye to eye. Howl smiled charmingly at her, as he normally did. She smiled and rolled her eyes, and looked back out the window. As she put her hand out to feel the breeze which was visibly blowing by in the heather, she said, "There you go, not answering questions again. What am I to do with you!" Howl chuckled behind her, and sauntered into the room.
"My dear Sophie, have I frustrated you?" Sophie could feel his eyes on her, blue and beguiling even though she wasn't looking.
"No, Howl," she replied, "of course not. But, would you answer my question?"
For answer, Howl leaned over to kiss her right temple, and then lean on the sill beside her. "First, where did this question come from?"
His wife pursed her lips and frowned. "Just thinking, I suppose. A wandering thought."
"I see," Howl replied. "Then, I guess I would say that it's only important if you think it is, Sophie." This was such a typical Howl response, that Sophie gave him a look, which was received quite innocently. "What is it?" he questioned.
"Is that really an answer? Or are you just slithering out of a serious response…again?"
"Sophie!" Howl said, feigning hurt. "Sophie, if I really didn't want to answer your question, then I would have just slithered right out, wouldn't I have?" She considered this, then shrugged with a nod and said, "I guess you're right. But I don't understand your answer."
"Well, I never have that luxury with yours…" Howl said with chagrin. "You always tell me exactly what you're thinking, Sophie. But if you do care at all for my feelings, please consider slithering out part of the time yourself! You really wound me, you know?" Sophie turned to place a gentle kiss at the corner of Howl's down-turned mouth.
"My dear, wounded husband," she said feelingly, with only a smidgen of sarcasm, "with the sensitive feelings of a young lad still—,"
"All right, enough! I forgive you! I actually quite love your straightforwardness, Sophie, you know I'm only teasing you. Just don't bring up…that. You really are wounding me now!"
Sophie laughed. "Oh, Howl! I love you…" She kissed him tenderly. She pulled back and they looked one another squarely in the eyes. "Now please tell me what you meant." Howl sighed.
"So intelligent are you, Sophie. Why do I need to explain it?"
"Howl, please! I just wanted a straightforward answer from you, and all I got was a roundabout one! True, I should be used to that by now, but… Oh, confound it!" She stamped her foot, which made Howl's eyes grow rather wide, and then he threw his head back and laughed.
"Sophie, you really are confounded!" he chortled. "I only answered you the way I did because it's true! You are, after all, gifted with the ability to bring life to things, Sophie. It would only make sense that a witch of your talent could decide whether knowing what she wanted from life was important or not, and then have it work out fine either way."
"Oh." Sophie was so surprised by his explanation that her mouth formed a small 'o'. But she really shouldn't have been surprised. Howl was always clever and insightful when it came to magic. And she knew he was clever and insightful about almost everything else too. Such things weren't selective; particularly when it came to Howl, who sometimes seemed to be all things at once.
"But what about other people? What if they don't have my abilities?"
"Why are you worried about them?" Howl asked, scratching his head, nonplussed. Sophie clicked her tongue.
"Can't I be concerned for others?"
"…If you can be concerned for me, then I guess you may, Sophie," Howl conceded, dipping his head permittingly. Then he took his turn frowning and considered.
"Well, I have never been without my magical powers, Sophie, but you have. So maybe you know the answer to your own question."
"You're impossible! Why do I bother asking you anything?"
"Pray tell," Howl quipped back, to his flustered wife. She calmed down after a moment and leaned her chin snugly into her left hand. "Huh. I guess you do have a point though, Howl—"
"Excellent! Pray tell!"
"Shut up, I was. You're too egotistical for your own good, 'pray tell', monsieur. Anyway, before I knew I was a witch…I never thought I needed to know what I wanted from life. Everything was already decided for me, you know?"
"Yes, I know," Howl agreed, actually solemn at the recollection. He remembered very clearly when Sophie believed that being the eldest of three condemned her to a certain kind of life. It had kept her from breaking the Witch of the Waste's curse sooner. But on the other hand, it had also kept her with him longer, so he couldn't decide whether to be grateful or not.
"But, despite that…everything turned out just fine. Better than fine, really! Much better!" Sophie smiled at him in such a way, that Howl could feel his heart—which had once been the crux of a star—begin to glow. It was at times like this, that if Sophie had known exactly what Howl was feeling, she would have realized that he also knew what his smiles did to her.
"In what way, my love?" Howl asked her gently. He slipped an arm around her violet silk waist and pressed himself close, smelling the clean and fresh scent that was Sophie. Hers was the best perfume in the world—better than any he had ever doused in himself. And it was completely natural.
Now maybe he could see why people put stock in that sometimes… But not when it came to his hair. And if Sophie had used perfume, and smelled the same way, he still wouldn't see what was so wonderful about 'natural'. So in the end, it was only because of Sophie herself.
"In the way that, even though I didn't know what I wanted, I still found myself here. What way could I possible mean?"
"Indeed."
"You really are determined to never answer a question straight, aren't you?"
"Indeed."
"Hah! I got you, Howell Jenkins!"
"Oh, Sophie…" Howl shook his head, exasperatedly. "Whatever you say, my dear… Whatever you say…"
A/n: Well, it's been forever. This is a story I wrote months ago, and just reread and decided to post. It's perhaps a bit too full of dialogue, could be simplified and tailored so that Howl and Sophie don't sound quite so effervescent, but... I've obviously elected to leave it the way it is. Feel free to tell me what you think of course. I hope that they're balanced enough to be passably canon. And I hope this oneshot is enjoyable :). To anyone who's been waiting for an update to any of my other stories: I truly apologize for my inaction, but unfortunately I haven't had it in me to produce anything. Waiting for the muse to return, and thank you so much to those who have messaged me! I appreciate the interest :). _caseyedith
