No. 1
In Which They Are Captivated
World: Movie
Word: Captivated

Howl leaped through the portal and into his moving castle. The blackness falling behind was unable to enter through the door after him, and Howl's glass-like eyes welcomed the dim light of Calcifer that made the room glow with warmth. However, the light deceived reality: slowly, painfully, Howl's winged arms slithered inward until the stark blue feathers vanished into nimble and long fingers. Feeling as though his insides were cracking, his claws receded and he eventually exhaled in relief.

The weight of the darkness was gone, for the moment. He was human again.

"I don't want to repeat myself, Howl," muttered Calcifer from under a burning log, "but transformations becoming even more painful is a bad sign."

Howl's shoulders ached and he shrugged. "I know Calcifer," he moaned hoarsely, "but I'm too tired tonight to argue." He slowly stood and Calcifer was about to automatically announce hot water for his friend's bath when Howl noticed there wasn't any soft breathing from behind the curtain of the cubbyhole. "Where is Sophie?" He wondered with composed curiosity.

"An hour ago, she suddenly hopped out from behind that curtain and ran upstairs. I tried to talk to her, but she was so absorbed by something. I have no idea what she saw," Calcifer said before Howl could ask.

Howl frowned and his features would have been heartbreaking to fair eyes. Calcifer, however, was unfazed as Howl slowly climbed the stairs with grace, his shoes barely touching the wooden steps. Howl's fatigue was suddenly replaced with intrigue.

What was Sophie doing?

Howl strode down the upstairs hallway. He checked on Markl, who was snoring loudly with head slipping off the edge of his mattress. Howl pressed forward and stopped at the bathroom door but reminded himself that he had cast a barrier, keeping Sophie from entering and sabotaging his bath chemicals while he was out. He continued on and walked by his own bedroom, when he heard whispers from beyond the door. Howl silently opened his door an inch and froze.

His eyes widened as Sophie smiled in awe before his private vanity mirror, running a finger across her cheekbone and failing to come across a single wrinkle. "Incredible," she gasped at her reflection. "So it can be weakened ..." She stuttered slightly as she spoke and Howl knew she was forbidden to speak of it, even to herself.

Howl sighed without a sound; it was wonderful to see her looking young while conscious. Her smile outshone some of the hundred or so trinkets along the walls and floor, and he didn't think he'd ever seen her pearly teeth. She flipped her hair onto one side and ran her fingers through it, admiration laced with the graceful movement. Sophie's eyes held a twinkling sign of relief.

Then, her lips pouted in a frown and she sighed. "You ought to stop looking," she muttered sadly.

Howl hunched his shoulders in fear, but she continued to speak. "It ... won't do to long for something that doesn't even last, Sophie," she chided herself. "It's best to just go back to bed."

Yet she remained rooted in front of the mirror, unable to tear her eyes away.

The master of the castle, holding his breath in anticipation, could only imagine being used to a haggard and old appearance, and to suddenly see yourself as you once were like it was a dream come true. Yet Howl couldn't hold it in much longer. Despite himself, he decided to make things more interesting.

He closed the door, again without a sound. He counted seconds in his head before he cleared his throat loud enough for her to hear. In turn, he heard a frightened gasp and something shatter on the floor. He cringed at the noise, hoping it wasn't anything important, opened the door lazily and walked in, his gaze to the floor. He caught a glimpse of jar shards and relaxed. It was nothing. But Sophie's caught offguard state was surely something.

He looked up at the sheepish and wide-eyed Sophie, who was still looking young despite the abrupt surprise. He had to resist an admiring smile.

"Sophie," he muttered gently, pretending to not notice her beautiful change in appearance. "What are you doing, still awake?"

The culprit blushed pink and fiddled with her hair. "Um, I ..." she began slowly. "I just felt like doing some late-night cleaning. Your room is ... well, the only room that remains to be organized and de-cluttered. Please forgive me for entering ... I was just curious ..." Her voice drifted off and she bent over, collecting jar shards on her large nightgown. She had never so easily given in to anyone and apologize, particularily to him. It was rather upsetting.

"Curious, indeed," he answered. "I've already asked you to leave my belongings in their proper place and you've so far restrained yourself. You're sure all you were doing tonight was trying to clean?"

Sophie nodded, tucking loose strands of silver hair behind her ear. She threw the shards in a waste bin by the wardrobe and straightened her nightgown. "I should get back to bed." She shuffled around him and crossed the doorway, whispering a goodnight. As she walked, her back began to arch forward and her face drooped with the many signs of old age. There was a crackle that was louder than Calcifer could ever make it, and Sophie cringed slightly and rubbed her back.

Howl bit his flawless lip. He merely wanted to surprise her; not try and ruin her in her moment. "Oh, Sophie," Howl called gently.

He waited a moment before her head peered around the door frame and gazed at him with doe eyes surrounded by wrinkles and sun spots. He wanted to say so much to her, but perhaps another time would better suit the many words.

"You look lovely tonight," was all he said with a charming grin.

"... Thank you, Howl," she whispered with a shy smile, fingers tightly gripping the door frame. The action was perturbing, but she didn't seem upset or angered. In fact, her flustered state recovered some elasticity on her face and he knew he had done something right.

He bid her goodnight and she closed his door with a hint of a smile he just managed to catch. Howl knew his act was flawed; he was aware that Sophie would eventually realize he knew who she truly was. Yet moments such as this would be worth that risk.

Alone in his room, Howl turned on his heels, leaped up in the air and landed on his bed by all but floating down upon it. He stared at his ceiling with his head over his palms, and sighed.

Upon returning home, he would always see how she fared as she slept since he had discovered during a faraway bombing that other wizards were swearing allegiance to war patrons. Tonight's check on her was by far the best encounter. He was glad to know she could feel beautiful while still awake, not only when dreaming of a beauty that only she failed to see in her reflection. Clearly Sophie was improving, and he was determined to help her see it's quite fine to love herself. In fact, he greatly encouraged self-admiration.

He rolled over onto his side and, as his mind fell prey to exhaustion, the candlelight on the night-table dimmed and the room glinted less as shadows swept over all of Howl's belongings.

But the darkness couldn't reach him tonight. He dreamt of a extravagant ball where there was dancing and many people taking advantage of a fleeting moment to feast their eyes on Howl. The great wizard, however, was incapable of returning their gaping stares and awed gasps with his usual glamour and grace. His pale eyes were focused solely on the woman with her arm in his, capturing the crowd nearly as much as him. Her eyes gleamed as she watched the scene, flowing silver hair reflecting the bright lights and sending flying stars across the high ceiling.

Howl hadn't thought of his bath that entire night.