Suzu: It's been awhile, hasn't it? I've gone through several milestones since.
If anything, I want the fact that this chapter is up to represent the power of an encouraging, lovely group of readers… both old and new generations. This is dedicated to everyone and anyone who enjoys this story.
So let's get started.
Seven Nights-
Night 6, Part 2
-In Which Many Leave the Midsummer's Eve Ball-
Recap:
Suliman lowered her head at a respectful angle as she spoke.
"I propose a challenge, then. The only way for Wizard Howl to prove that he is not using unscrupulous methods to woo the Princess Valeria is for him to declare a vow of love to a certain young lady and have her reciprocate your feelings."
"Why yes! Of course! I'm sure it will be the most beauteous display, which Valeria will no doubt be overjo—"said the King of Ingary.
"I hope you will be able to elicit a vow of marriage from her, and make the vow of pure love."
Howl had turned immobile as stone. His gaze looked nowhere, glassy as they were.
"You know," Suliman directed to Howl. "That this vow can only be made during intimacy: a deep kiss at midnight is the historical tradition, or consummation as long as it is after marriage vows."
"Consummation!" the King said, and his voice wobbled as if torn between being a father happy or stupefied. "Well, well… certainly, I'll be wanting grandchildren! But, Suliman, perhaps it's a bit soon for Valeria to—"
Madame Suliman ignored the King. "You can't do these things without a heart, Howl. If you try, a tragic end will befall you and your partner. All wizards and witches are familiar with this ancient, if a touch rudimentary, spell."
"To the partner, too! Well, now just a moment—If I may interject—"
Suliman plowed over the King's feeble protests.
"To conclude, if you can get Sophie Hatter to agree to you and kiss you at the stroke of midnight, I'll allow your marriage to the Princess Valeria of Ingary."
There was finality in her tone.
.
.
.
Sophie… tonight, Sophie was radiant, beautiful, dazzling.
Ethereal.
Her warm dovish eyes had transformed into glassy orbs, which stared at Howl with intelligence and curiosity and, well… not much else.
The simply cut dress bared little skin, but the shimmering material clung to her skin in a way that sent Howl's blood pumping to his ears and elsewhere. Gods, he was in love with this woman.
But no longer. No longer was Sophie a 'woman', in the right sense of the world.
Tonight, he would love a doll.
Tonight, he would seduce a sham.
If anyone could, it would (it would have to) be Howl.
Sophie repeated his question, with a finger tapping her chin as if in thought.
"Do I love you?"
"That's right. Answer my question, Sophie."
"Oh, I don't know if I could. We've only known each other for a few months," she quipped back, and her small, sweet (almost shy) smile was disarming. If he wasn't Howl—the (ex-) Heartless Howl—he would have been at a complete loss for words.
"If you liked me even a small bit, you would tell me the answer," Howl pressed lightly, trying not to give away the fluttery mess that had started in his chest.
"Ever the tragic hero." Sophie shook her head. "It would hurt if I were to tell you," She left out the part where Calcifer had fed the ideas into her mind. "You only think of yourself. You told me so yourself."
Women. Why were they so blasted good at taking words and throwing them back at an honest-to-goodness "changed man"? He would never understand them. Howl found himself trying to engage all of his rational thought process into finding his next words.
"Tell me," he implored every bit of charm into this plea, though he had a vague sense that it didn't quite measure up to her own (not fair, she had a fire demon on her side).
"I helped you at the hat shop. Some might consider that a debt," he blurted. Howl immediately pounded himself mentally for that error. He didn't help her to reap rewards, blast it! He did it because… because—but Sophie's response cut him short.
The young woman's glassy stare seemed to concentrate, and her eyebrows knit together as if in frustration.
"Well, I hardly think I owe you anything. You kept me waiting all that time. If anything, you're the one who owes me answers."
Howl looked at her thoughtfully, his blue-green eyes narrowing, before he wordlessly took her by the hand, his other free arm sweeping in the slender curve of her waist as he pulled her body to his. He was taller than her, but his face seemed impossibly near. Sophie thought he would lean down and kiss her, before Howl gently but firmly guided her into one of the open spaces with many dancing couples.
"Humor me, then."
The sweep of her skirts made the pair glimmer and sparkle in the dancing lights of the ballroom. They were both acutely aware of how much attention their presence attracted. Other dancers slowed their steps a fraction to look at them curiously, wondering about the strange princely figure and how he guided his stunning partner to the very middle of the dancing throng as if they belonged there.
Howl's inky raven hair fell into his eyes as he dipped his head a fraction, to nod at Sophie, as was dance custom during the start of a new waltz. Sophie noticed the tiny dark shadows created on his cheeks by his long lashes. She suddenly felt the urge to touch that spot.
"May I have this dance?" Howl said slowly.
It was not a question.
The firm grip of his hand at her waist told her he would not let go.
Sophie's gaze faltered and she averted her eyes from Howl's face. Part of her wanted to reach out and tuck an errant strand of blue-black hair behind his ear, but another part of her wanted to run away. For some reason, their current position was uncomfortably comfortable.
Yes, she desperately wanted to run, no, to be accurate, slither away, but the strange look in Howl's eyes arrested her.
.
.
.
Calcifer bubbled a bit, in his hearth, burning brightly over the pulsating core at the heart of the fire.
It has been years since the last one. Fire demons didn't gossip after they'd fallen from the sky—after all, a falling star literally was just a fallen star, and who cared to hear of the sob stories that ensued? But still, little specks of good ol' tearjerker stories floated up to the heavenly realms, and as a brightly-burning young thing, Calcifer had heard his share of tales of adventure and undying, potent love. There had been a tale of a young man giving away his heart for the sake of his lost love—so pure was his heart that the fire demon lived for ten thousand years on afterward. Or so the story went.
No one really believed those tales. And now, here Calcifer was, holding onto a heart (yes, with its little imperfections) that was, remarkably, freely given. And not for the purpose of selfish lust for power, nor of escape, but of love and self sacrifice.
"Gee, I hope I'm keepin' this one…"
Plenty of time spent in the company of a human wizard had given Calcifer quite a penchant for talking. And, more recently, talking to himself.
And, even if that strange female human wasn't here to hear him—he spoke.
"Don't forget, Sophie. Our bet. You lose, and I keep this heart."
.
.
.
Sophie knew what her goal was tonight, even if just the thought of it made the iron enter her soul, in a manner of speaking. A rational part of her assured her she was doing well—Howl could not take his eyes off of her. She had Calcifer the firey fairy godmother to thank, she supposed.
In time, however, Howl's smooth movements on the dance floor were peppered with nervous skips as he glanced warily to the side. This wasn't promising, for either her mission or… drat… the nagging feeling in the empty space newly carved (or was it burned?) into her chest.
In her normal state of mind, she would have asked him concernedly what was wrong, except she couldn't focus her willpower enough to do it, without a heart. Sophie smiled distractedly to herself—never could she have raised Martha and Lettie without a heart.
"You're smiling, Sophie? Tell me why."
Howl had gone back to smoldering at her, lips quirked and eyes alight with the glow of the dance floor. It made Sophie feel a strange euphoric feeling—vanity, maybe—which surfaced from a newly exposed part of her soul.
She shook her head no.
Howl frowned, then quickly thwarted his initial reflex to look nobly wounded. That trick wouldn't do, especially when he was trying to win her—stolid, practical Sophie—back to his good graces. Sophie in this guise was a much harder nut to crack than he supposed, maybe even tougher than if she were a completely un-hormonal ninety-year old hag. And then an idea seemed to come to him. His features untwisted themselves and seemed to relax as a new, slightly mischievous smile tugged on his lips.
"You didn't have to wait for me, you know."
Sophie looked away. She could still feel embarrassment.
Howl pressed on. "Nor did you have to rescue me."
The Hatter daughter tried to muster up the lightness, the happy emptiness that she'd felt (felt?) when Calcifer had first eaten her heart. She found only raw discomfort.
So this is what not having a heart was like! Not the sense that there would be no emotion—but that everything was perceived and felt in one-dimension, with emotions flat and pure and… still agonizing, in a different way.
"The reason why you're here tonight…" Howl's hand—she marveled at the writing calluses on the otherwise smooth skin—grasped hers. "Remember, Sophie. Are you sure you're happier missing that piece of yourself?"
"I have my reaso—" the protest died on her lips. She tried to tug it back up, but a trumpet blare broke the mood of the entire dance floor as the pair flinched and turned to look at Her Royal Highness's introductory speech.
Hundreds of heads turned toward the grand stair as the figure, who had changed from her earlier dress of the evening to one of crimson red velvet.
"The Princess of Ingary, Valeria Hart Rolland!"
A few in the crowd grimaced at the mention of the Princess (they looked to be disgruntled princes, thought Sophie) while others who were in Ingary for the first time were eager to spot the one in line for the throne, who could, perhaps, make them future king or part of the royal family.
Valeria was every inch a future monarch, if not a bit showy, from the way that she waved enthusiastically at Howl when she spotted him. The violet diamonds adorning her tiara sparkled as her chin nodded toward him, as if sharing a small secret just between the two of them.
Valeria seemed to not even notice Sophie, which caused a strange feeling to settle into the Hatter daughter's stomach despite her airy mood. She made up her mind.
"I need to go."
Sophie twisted her wrist from Howl's grip while he was still distracted by the babbling throng of people that now crowded close to get a good look at where the Princess' eyes were roaming earlier.
His grip only tightened, and Sophie felt herself being jerked into the crowd. She plunged the few steps forward, trailing Howl.
"W-what are you—" the protest died on her lips as a familiar face loomed close, parting the crowd of people with ease. Sophie felt the tug on her other arm, and suddenly she was torn between two directions.
"Finally found you! Little Sophia, come with me." Prince Justin smiled crookedly. His bushy hair was starting to come undone from its careful earlier gelling, and the tie of his lapel looked to be unraveling from too many pullings. "A few of my friends and I are leaving this place for a better establishment. This party's going to get boring quite soon."
"I would—" the words she blurted left a sandy taste on her lips as she turned and saw the look in Howl's eyes.
Sophie wanted to leave, she did. After all, she was starting to get more than a little uncomfortable now, under the wizard's piercing gaze. The crowd they'd weaved into seemed to be parting, scattering from some unknown force, and Sophie felt somewhat vulnerable. She had the inexplicable urge to duck out of the situation as gracefully (or gracelessly, if need be) as she could manage.
"Alright then, let me escort you, my dear Sophia." Justin extended a hand.
"She's not going anywhere."
Blue-green eyes flashed dangerously at the other man.
"She's having a lovely time right now, thank you."
Drat.
If this is what it felt like to have two grown men fighting over you, Sophie wanted none of it.
Why were people deciding all these things for her?
She was a grown woman. She could decide it herself.
"I should rest. I'm leaving this party," Sophie excused herself, feeling a dull ache in her hollow chest. "I'm not myself tonight."
"That's right. You're not." Howl slid his arm between Sophie and Prince Justin, scissoring the two apart as the former looked increasingly less placid, and the latter increasingly less happy.
Another pair of hands clamped down, one on Howl, the other on the Prince.
"Good to see you, dearest Uncle."
"Valeria…" Prince Justin looked uncomfortably at his niece. He was just over ten years her senior, being the baby brother of her father, the king. Growing up around her had always been… challenging, what with her whims and fancies.
People were certainly staring now. Hushed voices swelled until everyone seemed to be trying to talk over the din, expressing their own opinions in stage-whispers to their neighbor. The music soared along with the increased volume of talk. The sounds were deafening but muffled, and the pressure was similar to being in the eye of a hurricane.
"Valeria, what are you doing?"
"Uncle, this is my fiancé Wizard Howl. You've met him, I presume?" Valeria didn't look at the Prince, instead staring pointedly at a grim Howl and a silent Sophie, who were both locked into the chain by interweaving hands and arms.
"Let go," Sophie whispered.
Howl and Prince Justin both reluctantly loosened their grips. Sophie took back her wrists, conscious of the prying eyes of the crowds dressed in their finery.
Valeria looked at Howl pointedly. She tugged at the arm she'd claimed.
"Come, let's announce you to my mother and father. It's only proper that they meet my betrothed, along with the rest of the important people at this ball."
Valeria's eyes flitted to Sophie as she said the word 'important', as if suggesting her doubt that Sophie fit that qualification.
"Alright, I'll just stay here and—" Prince Justin tried to sidle closer to Sophie, coming behind her as if shielding himself from Valeria's insistent pull. The princess snapped her gaze toward her kin.
"You too, Uncle Justin. You're royal enough to be another witness."
Justin rolled his eyes, as if saying 'See what I put up with?' He bowed awkwardly at Sophie (as well as someone very tall with a vice grip from someone much shorter clamped on one of their arms could bow). Then, he was waltzed away along with Howl.
.
.
.
Sophie didn't follow.
She tried to dismiss the new stronger feeling of emptiness as a side effect of her contract with Calcifer. This was normal. This would pass.
She was here for one reason tonight. That was it.
The crowd of people parted in response to the Royal Princess, the Prince, and the mysterious Wizard Howl coming through. Conversely, they merged again toward Sophie, such that she was again one of the crowd. Without her companions, she was nobody again.
Unfortunately, being part of the crowd meant being pulled along in their current. The people swelled like an ocean wave toward the platform where the King and Queen of Ingary sat on their thrones.
Valeria and her two hostages had arrived at the platform now.
Sophie saw Prince Justin duck awkwardly and escape to the side of the King as soon as Valeria let go of his arm. She could vaguely make out his stiff, uncomfortable position.
Valeria and Howl were standing, arms intertwined, in front of His and Her Majesties.
The music broke.
As if sensing that there was an announcement to be had, the noise of the dancers and onlookers hushed into a still silence. Nothing but the occasional cough drifted across the immense ballroom.
"Valeria," the King said.
His voice was unnaturally loud. Sophie realized it had been amplified by magic.
"You are our only daughter. We are here to celebrate your return," the King's voice boomed.
Valeria ducked into a low curtsey. Howl was dragged along into it.
"Whom do you bring with you, my daughter?" the Queen's voice was stern, even pinched. She was too far to see the expression on her face, but Sophie could sense her displeasure.
"This," Valeria said, joy and pride seeming to drip from her voice, "Is Wizard—"
She didn't get to finish.
Because Howl disappeared in a burst into blue flame in front of five hundred people.
.
.
.
Suliman blinked into her scrying crystal, then shook her head.
"What are you doing, little Hatter? Surely, Heartless Howl is not worth it."
A small chuckle escaped the Royal Wizard.
"Though this is entertaining, indeed. Now, Howl, what is your next move? Didn't you once say you liked your freedom better than anything?"
.
.
.
Sophie caught him at the bottom of the stairs in the castle lower floors.
She nearly fell over as the weight of him toppled over her.
Howl looked at her in astonishment, hair mussed and eyes adjusting to the sudden change in light. It was dark here and smelled of sewage.
"You're here…" he whispered after he had (reluctantly) disentangled himself from Sophie. "I'm here… actually, where are we?"
"Near the place they dock the boats," Sophie said. "Follow me?"
She held out her hand to Howl, and he took it quickly.
"Where are we going?" Howl asked. "Normally, I would be thrilled to escape an enemy castle with you, but today, my magic's not at its best…" he laughed, sounding tired.
Sophie's hand grew warm, then hot. Howl felt a rush of borrowed magic shoot up his arm.
Not much of it, but it had a familiar, pulsating signature. He felt something else, too, but it quickly flitted away.
"Calcifer's magic…" Howl grew silent again, then asked:
"He helped you for free?"
Sophie didn't speak. She continued walking briskly, turning them around corners. Through smaller, narrower passageways.
"There's a space-warping pentagram here somewhere," Sophie said. "I was late to the ball drawing it."
"It'll take us to the moving castle…" Howl whispered, realizing Sophie's plan.
"Yes."
"We'll be free again."
"You'll be." Sophie didn't look back.
"Answer my original question, though. Did you give Calcifer your heart?" Howl's voice grew urgent. He tugged on the hand that was pulling him, slowing her.
Sophie sighed. She turned around to face him.
"I feel fine and I am fine," she said simply.
A curious sensation spread through Howl's chest. It was sadness and joy at the same time. He was happy that Sophie would come and save him, even go to Calcifer for his sake. He was more sad, however—excruciatingly sad, that she would sacrifice herself to save a wretched man like him.
"You love me." Howl looked at her, barefaced and honest and vulnerable. He wanted to cry and laugh all at once.
"And so what?" she returned, though the dull ache in Sophie's chest had now grown insistent and painful, as if a lump in her chest wanted to jump into her throat and quash her harsh words, but for the first time in her life, it seemed there was no lump to be had.
"Sophie, I love that you love me… it's not a bad thing to love me."
The last part was spoken in a whisper, as if Howl barely believed his own words.
Sophie shook her head, partly to clear the dizziness in her head. She resumed walking briskly through the dark dank maze. She shouted back at him:
"No, stop confusing me. You told me yourself! It's never done good for anybody. Not back then, not now!"
Her voice echoed down the hollow tunnels of the castle basement. Both Howl and Sophie froze at her miscalculation. After a notched breath, another voice, male and gruff, returned along the winding passageways with shouts of "Intruders here! Quick!"
The next three minutes seemed to pass all at once as soldiers swarmed into the passageway in front and behind them. Sophie watched in muted horror as the men grabbed Howl from behind.
Howl shouted something—one long, awful word, like thunder—and all the torches lighting the area blew out at once, leaving only blackness as Sophie heard sounds of punches, clinking armor, and crude swears. A few seconds later, the torches were relit, but there were no more soldiers.
There was no Howl or Sophie, either.
.
.
.
When they warped again, Howl's hand never left Sophie's.
Now, in the dusty floorboards of a very familiar space, Howl brushed a gentle hand over Sophie's sleeping face tenderly.
She was exhausted. Being a new study at magic, transporting them twice was already a feat that dipped into her energy to remain conscious.
"We'll get your heart back, Sophie," Howl said.
He looked at the clock, and had to blink several times to make out that it was midnight. Mysterious moisture had collected in his eyes.
"... Just like you returned mine."
A crackly voice piped up from the hearth.
"And how're you gonna do that, Genius?"
Howl got to his knees, gently lifting Sophie from the floor where the dusty chalk pentagram lay beneath her. He lifted her slender frame into his arms, fully intending to find her a more comfortable place to rest.
"When she wakes up, I'll prove to her that I love her. I'll make her fall for me."
Howl swallowed.
The words felt empty, coming from him. He felt years of wrongdoing creep up to him. How could he be capable of love?
"Isn't that a problem for you? Suliman's gonna hunt you down when she finds out your heart's back. Shackle you down or somethin'."
"And that's okay, Calcifer."
The fire seemed to roar with laughter, emitting sparks that fizzled out when they landed on the grate.
"Yeeesh. Who ARE you?"
Howl found his own voice laughing along ruefully.
"I'm Howl Jenkins. And I'll be shackled for the rest of my life if that means Sophie can be free."
tbc
