Suzu's Final Chapter Warm Up Squawk: I wanted to end on May Day. I'm a day late, but well… let's let that slide.
Seven Days was about starting a relationship, that is, not tying yourself down too hastily (or running away too quickly). I started Seven Days toward the end of middle school, so it's pretty funny to be looking back at the very first chapter.
Seven Nights I started when I was sixteen. I realize—wow—in a way, though I never thought Sophie and I had anything in common, there's a bit of Sophie (and a bit of Howl) in all teenagers stuck on this weird subject of love. If that's the case, then Seven Nights, this final chapter, will hopefully get close to the subject of what sustainable, adult relationship could be.
Without further ado...
Seven Nights
Night 7
In Which Happily Ever After Is Redefined
.
.
.
He slept a summer by my side
He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came
And still I dream he'll come to me
That we will live the years together
I Dreamed a Dream, Les Mis
.
.
.
Who cares to hear the story of a falling star?
One who's traveled near and far.
Ne'er a rare moment,
Ne'er a spell potent
Ne'er was there saving power on par.
.
.
.
Calcifer flickered dangerously in the hearth, blackened soot underneath.
"Pass me a log, you fool."
Weary blue-green eyes widened at him, before becoming resolute.
"No, not until you promise me."
"Playing this game now? Psh, you've gotten stupid, Howl. You can't threaten me. Now give me a log before the girl dies with me. I'm keeping this heart until I get a better alternative. Yours is not that."
They'd been at this all day. Evening was fast approaching. Sophie had still not woken up, as Howl had manhandled the fire demon into putting a spell on her, much like the first time she had come visit. The first time was so she would have no memory of this place, ashamed as Howl was of showing his weakest, most vulnerable secrets to the girl he adored, maybe even loved. This time… well, this time Howl wanted to cast a spell on her—or rather, remove a spell—where her cooperation was needed or else they would all have to suffer the consequences.
A cedar block, firm texture, crackly, somewhat deliciously dry, clunked down next to the fire demon. The look Howl sent his way as he set it down, however, made the taste sour considerably.
Howl resumed pacing afterward, shooting worried glances to the stairs which would lead to Howl's room, where he'd put the magically sleeping Sophie. He'd laid her on his bed, letting his spiders on the ceiling watch over her. Every now and then, Howl would twitch, worried as he was about her condition.
"I-I could go back to Suliman, beg her to extract Sophie's heart," Howl muttered, pacing. His once sleek hair looked awful. There was a small red mark where he'd worried the circlet against his forehead.
Calcifer spit a few sparks out onto the hearth, his version of a sigh.
"You're not even making sense at this point. Eat some food, you ol' lunk. You haven't eaten for the entire day."
Howl stopped, seeming to give in to the fact that wracking his brain was a futile exercise at the moment. He looked at Calcifer tiredly.
"Everything's spoiled since I've been away so long, so I tossed it out. All we've got is bacon. Can't go out either, or else Suliman can scry my location," Howl explained, almost petulantly.
The fire demon huffed. "Is this a pride thing, you child? Look, I'll let you cook it, this once."
As if the idea of a ceasefire left him torn, Howl shot another look upstairs before moving in acquiescence to fetch the food and a (relatively) clean saucepan. Without prompting, he began muttering a saucepan tune under his breath, as he searched under the clutter of dishrags, plates, and errant papers.
"What is that?" Calcifer crackled.
"What is what?" Howl poked his head out from the cupboard.
"That weird saucepan song you sing. You're muttering it now."
Howl paused, locating the said kitchen tool and approached the sizzling fire demon, who obligingly lowered his head.
"It's something I learned growing up. People in my hometown sang it."
Calcifer hissed as the pan lowered onto him. "Well, never took you for a hometown nostalgia kind of guy."
The raven-haired wizard shot a carefully neutral glance at the fire demon. "Not really, but aren't we all nostalgic, sometimes?"
"All humans, you mean?"
Howl laid three strips of bacon on the surface, throwing a fourth piece into Calcifer's firey mouth before the fire demon could comment further.
"Fire demons don't sing tunes, then? Or shooting stars? What did you do before you shot to earth, you heartless thing?"
Calcifer ignored the insult (it wasn't really an insult, fitting as it was) and finished frying up the piece of bacon Howl had tossed him, whining and spitting with relish.
"Actually, we have songs, too, but they're not melodies… more like your poems, I guess."
His companion's interest was piqued. "Oh? What sorts? What's a popular one?"
Calcifer clamed up, as much as a fire could clam up when it was a roaring blaze.
"It's a fable about longevity. That's all I can tell you. Your hint."
Howl frowned, pulling a plate toward him. "Hint for what?" When Calcifer didn't respond, he rolled his eyes. "Keep your secrets, then."
"Couldn't tell you the whole thing even if I wanted to," Calcifer crackled truthfully. "I've forgotten the ending of it."
Howl poked around with his food, before shuffling around some spells he had worked on before being caught by the king and Suliman. Having straightened (only made messier) the table, Howl peered at Calcifer, as if suspecting something.
"I'm going up, then, Calcifer. Sophie should eat, too."
The fire demon took that as his cue to stop the spell. He felt Sophie's heart give a powerful thump as it quickened its pace, signaling her awakening from slumber.
Pausing at the foot of the stairwell, Howl looked imploringly at the fire demon, one last time.
"Calcifer, I've never treated you the best, I know. But please, think about what I offered. Let me replace Sophie. She has friends, family, people who love her and she genuinely loves."
The fire demon glowed, settling lower in his hearth.
"Yeah, yeah. You get up there already, loverboy. I'll pilot the castle. Betcha there's some nasty side-effect from whatever Suliman is planning just around the corner."
.
.
.
Ten thousand years you'll slave,
Taking the heart of one fair and faithless
The day, bewitched, one falls,
The heart will go, taken back
And you ended in two hundred days.
.
.
.
Sophie's leg dangled over the side of the large bed. She seemed feverish, moaning softly as she came out of the enchanted sleep. The silvery sheen of her gown glowed in the dark, reflecting the soft light of a foggy moon outside, and glancing off the whirling magical gadgets cluttering Howl's bedroom.
Howl waited for her to open her eyes, his breath hissing as his heart hammered in his chest, abnormally loud in the stillness of the dark room.
He had no idea what he was doing.
Insecure, a small voice taunted. That's what you are. You've never wooed a girl, properly, with your whole heart intact, have you?
It didn't matter anymore.
Howl shooed aside the concerns as he approached the bedside. He would make her fall for him, and have her get her heart back the old fashioned way, just as she had done for him. They would figure out something for Calcifer, after that. Howl would give his heart—however much of it—to atone. It was only right.
"Howl, is that you?" Limpid eyes fluttered open as she stirred.
"Sophie, I—ah," Howl choked out. What did one say to a girl who gave up her heart to save you, quite literally? This was much less romantic than all the fairytales. The guilt, the shame, and the uncertainty of the so-called male protagonist in those stories never made it onto the popular renditions.
The young woman propped herself up on her elbows, her dress sliding dangerously low as she shimmied innocently into a half-upright position. Howl's eyes were adjusted to the dim light now. The, uh, allure of the situation was not missed by him.
Her voice was steady, though confused. "I'm in a bedroom?"
"Mine," Howl filled in hastily. "You were asleep for the day."
Sophie looked at him, and her usually expressive eyes were the same glassy orbs of the night before. She seemed unperturbed at her present situation atop the bed of the so-called wicked-est man in the Wastes. "I don't remember much. We were at the ball, and then my plan worked, it seems. But are we at—?"
"Y-yes," Howl bit out. "This is the castle. I don't live with anyone else, so I put you on my bed. I'm sorry if that was… forward."
"Howl, this is fine. This is more than fine. Come closer," Sophie said, and her tone was light as a feather. She said his name as if she had said the King of Ingary's, or her step-mother's, without a sense of urgency, without anguish or excessive contemplation.
Howl felt a bit like a fool. He stepped closer grudgingly, senses singing not altogether pleasantly, but not unpleasantly.
Taste of your own medicine, Heartless Howl
"Is Madame Suliman still out to find you? I suppose you'll need to find new arrangements, maybe go into hiding for a while." Sophie smiled up at him, now by her bedside, and Howl thought that it was a bit sad.
The said wanted-man cleared his throat, swallowing the lump that had formed.
"A-are you hungry?"
"No. It feels like last night, still. All the sounds from the ball are still ringing in my ears."
Howl thought she looked normal enough, turned against the soft moonlight spilling from the window. Maybe they could make progress. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard to right this wrong.
"Okay, then, I'd prefer if we steered the topic to you, Sophie. You've struck a bargain."
The Hatter was obliging enough to admit it. "It was the only way."
Howl shook his head, trying to contain a torrent of frustration. "I told you to offer Calcifer my heart, not your own," he near-growled.
She looked puzzled again, and then, quite blithely, "But now you have the best of both worlds. You're free, both your heart and your person. I'm sure we can work something out with the King and Suliman, eventually. You should make sure they don't catch you."
Heartless Sophie was much more talkative than normal Sophie… bossier too, but perhaps that was just the effect of having one's heart removed—all sorts of inhibitions fell away, some negative and some positive ones that kept one in check.
Is this better?
A sudden gust of kind pounded the closed window.
"Magic!"
Howl looked at Sophie. "You sense it too?"
She nodded. "I felt it take via my bond with Calcifer. Calcifer is moving us away from some probes that Suliman has sent out."
Howl let his magic (what paltry amount he had borrowed) extend outward, feeling the tense air around the castle, finding the dimensions it existed in and twisting a key into place, almost like a lock, as the castle settled into a safe space.
"We're—"
"—safe now, yes," Sophie finished.
Howl looked at her wonderingly.
"Sophie, as much as I love the fact that you're a natural at this, how much of Calcifer's magic do you intend to use? You understand that it binds you to him, and will make the separation that much more painful."
She blinked at him once, innocent eyes, although, mostly, the orbs were just startlingly blank and difficult to read.
"Are you sad your magic is still bound by Suliman?"
"Not really." Howl tried his best to look unperturbed. That was a worry, yes, but mostly because it made him feel weak, too weak to protect something that was now irrevocably precious to him.
Sophie propped herself up to a kneeling position on the bed, her movements sure, and, in the dark, Howl backed uneasily until he was up against the window, cornered by someone he'd formerly labeled a mouse. Before he could react, Sophie had pressed her soft, rosy lips to his mouth, which fell into a shocked 'o'.
"S-Sophffff—"
"Shh, don't speak," she whispered softly, almost incomprehensibly, pressing a chaste but urgent kiss to his chin this time. Howl felt his insides churn. "I'm sorry. I know you're stressed, Howl, and I'd do anything to make it up to you."
Another kiss. "I don't like seeing you sad, for some reason," she breathed close to his ear, causing him to jerk uncontrollably in shock and desire.
Somehow, they both tumbled onto Howl's quilted coverlet. Howl braced himself on his elbow before he slammed on top of her smaller form in a position of no return. A million things ran through Howl's head. He was a smart cookie, he'll proudly admit it, and somewhat cunning—a self-made man. However, he was just a man, and a man reduced to a mess at one particular woman—the woman he loved, damnit—ministrations.
No.
Nonononononono.
Howl knew what game Sophie was playing at, even if he couldn't guess her full intentions.
He scraped together his dignity, and, sitting up, put both hands squarely on Sophie's slight shoulders, yanked her back a good foot away from him.
"D-don't try to distract me!" His face was flaming. Eater-of-Hearts Howl, reduced to this. "We were talking about your contract!"
Sophie looked unperturbed, a bit flushed maybe, but mostly just blinking innocently at him as if she was fine with being batted away, as if the physical advances should mean little to either of them.
For heaven's sake…
Howl's hand resisted the urge to pull out a fistful of his probably quite-unkempt raven hair.
"This… Does this mean you love me now?" Howl gritted out, words a lot cheekier than how he felt, which was like just solidified jelly. "I mean, the last time one of us hit the other with a surprise kiss brings me such nostalgia."
Sophie smiled, tugging the coverlet from the mattress. His heart nearly leapt out his chest.
Maybe, just maybe…
"Whatever you want, Howl. I won't go back to Market Chipping anymore, nor to Kingsbury with Honey and her new family. I can stay here. It doesn't matter."
A lead weight settled in Howl's stomach.
Heartless.
This was not the Sophie he fell in love with.
The girl kissed him.
Sophie loved her family.
The girl looked beguilingly at him.
Sophie would sacrifice her life in loyalty to her family hat shop.
The girl wanted him, and wanted him to want her.
That's what they all were, right? Him. And those girls of old.
Sophie had become any girl, those girls, the ones Howl had tried so hard to run from, partly because he liked his freedom, but partly because they represented the worst of himself. His own heartlessness was a symptom, if not a reflection, of the shallowness of their easy attraction.
Howl understood. This girl felt it, as he had. Being heartless, that insatiable curiosity grew and grew until it gnawed through you to get you to do things you would never have wanted to, by making you forget you wanted anything beyond that. The best way to describe it was a tingling loneliness, that was a weird itching thing that you had to scratch at now and then.
"Sophie." Howl's eyes blazed. "You are not this… this. Whatever this is, it's not you. If you don't love me, really, then there's no reason for you to want to stay with me."
She seemed to pause in her attempt to draw closer. Howl was again backed against the window, and his silhouette against the glass seemed oddly familiar. A momentary dizziness hit her, and Sophie's glassy eyes blinked several times, rapidly.
"O-ow," she said, putting a hand to her head, before looking up. "I-I like you, Howl." There was uncertainty in her voice.
"That's… pity doesn't change things," Howl bit out. "You have to understand. You're not yourself, Sophie."
Sophie's face grew angry, as angry as a heartless person can become. Her thin arms wrested Howl's from her shoulders, and she stepped into his space in a heartbeat.
Howl could feel the heat radiating from her. It was a feverish, uncomfortable warmth.
"What does it matter, if this saves you?" she said, her tone a bit angry. "If you don't want me forever…" the words tumbled from her lips. "…Then what about just for tonight?"
The shock must have registered on Howl's face, because Sophie's glassy expression immediately crumpled as she explained. "I-I know that's what men want. The Prince mentioned it quite a few times the night I rented that plane to come here, and I figured… well, certainly not him, but…" Large doe-like eyes turned on him.
She didn't need to finish. Howl's throat was dry. His heart was soured.
He could feel failure tiptoeing ever toward him.
What made stolen hearts come back?
Howl did not know. What Sophie had done for him—that was because she was good and pure and could talk sense into his life.
And him… even with a heart, Howl was barely changed. That spoke volumes to what a cad he was naturally. But Sophie, heartless Sophie, was so changed from the original that Howl loathed the idea of denying her any solace in her condition. Heartless chests burned, and not with a pleasant light.
"Listen, Sophie, i-it's not like that. I want you, of course, any man would, blast, but not like this."
Pathetic.
You want her, a tiny voice in his mind sneered. You want her regardless, admit it. In fact, it was always your motto that a quick love is best. Nothing tying you down afterward.
Howl nearly gagged as Sophie took his words as encouragement enough, and wrapped her arms around him.
"Why should this be difficult?" she whispered, not moving from her position despite Howl's (haphazard) struggling. "It doesn't need to be so complicated. This is all I can give you, but isn't this what you've always wanted?"
Howl quickly swiped a hand across his eyes.
"M-maybe once upon a time, blast it. But what I want now is… complicated. And messy. And noisy. And gruesome. That's what's good about real relationships, I hear."
He wanted to make sure he's not holding back, not painting a rosy picture, like in his Market Chipping mail. There was more to his proposal than a beautiful dress and fancy dinners and parading around to the neighborhood. There promised to be many, many moments of hearts falling to new lows as well as new highs. Howl thought it would be hair raising, for sure—an adventure far more worthy than the ones he'd spent his heartless days selfishly pursuing.
Howl told himself to breath. He gingerly wriggled to turn his back to her, even as her arms still looped around him.
"Sophie," he started. "It's okay if you're lonely. It's fine if you're scared. It's fine even if…" his voice broke. "…you choose to marry that bloody Prince Justin. It's okay if… we're not together. You should be free to choose. You can't be free to choose when you're heartless. Trust me. I was wrong for all those years."
Her arms around his torso loosened.
"So you don't love me?" she whispered, trembling.
Howl snorted, half laughing in his distress.
"It's because I do, you silly girl."
.
.
.
"Valeria!" The knock on the door was insistent.
"Sweetie, we've brought you your dinner!"
The small winding clock next to the mantle clicked to eight pm, a tiny cuckoo spinning out from its perch on the clock's stand and chirping the hour.
It was hard to believe that nearly twenty hours had passed since the events that were the talk of the aristocracy of Ingary, and of several other countries too. Luckily, Madame Suliman was able to contain the chaos to the nobles' ballroom, and they were all sworn to a measure of reserved tact on the issue of the wizard and a few other things until the royal family sorted it out.
Valeria, for one, had taken to lounging in her old nursery, which had been transformed into a small salon. Regardless, the familiar color of the walls and a few old pieces of furniture kept this an old haunt that she returned to when in the worst of moods.
"I'm not hungry!" she shouted back. Leave it to her parents to not understand when her heart was clearly shattered and needed its melancholic time in peace.
She resumed her silent fume for a few seconds more, before the double doors were flung open by her harried looking father, who was clutching his leg bouncing in an ungainly manner at the bruise while her mother rushed into the room with a tray of steaming soup and bread.
Valeria rolled her eyes at the soft trace of a bunny rabbit (old painting on the walls still showed through a bit), resolutely not looking at the King and Queen.
"You should eat, Valeria, darling," her mother tried.
"Food won't fill this hollow heart," she quipped.
A few things happened next, in quick succession. Her mother dropped the tray of soup. Her father dove for it. And Valeria felt a sharp slap at her cheek.
"Stop being so selfish, Valeria."
She turned, shell-shocked, as she looked at the stern, pale face of the Queen. Her mother's hand was shaking, as if she was as shocked as her daughter at what she had done.
"I-I'm sure I don't know what you mean." Valeria murmured, a stinging in her eyes.
Her father had succeeded in catching the soup, though there were a few splatters on his favorite nightshirt. The King would have looked ridiculous, if not for the grim but not unkind expression he fixed her with.
"Listen, Vallie, you've always been and are our treasure. But your mother is right." The Queen shot him a quick appreciative look. "And that is that you are being unfair."
"The only thing unfair is Horrible Howl," Valeria argued. "Or that witch, Sophie or Sophia or whatever she's called. I can't believe they had the gall to do that! They upstaged me—my fairy tale ending… one I'd planned so carefully, too. She's not a princess! She's not even a cinder maid with glass slippers!"
The Queen's eyes flashed. "Enough. Valeria, you are a princess. And it's time you acted as if you knew what that term really means. We've given you a lot of freedom in your life, my sweet, but it is freedom you have used as selfishness."
Valerie felt her face grow hot. She had planned to keep her mouth shut and ride out her parents' soliloquies, but biting her tongue was entirely too difficult.
"I was searching for love. And I'd found it and lost it, in less than a week. What would you know about that? You and dad were arranged."
The Queen's face was carefully aged, but even then, she was never beautiful in a classic way. Valeria looked like her father, but softer and more feminine.
"I know what love is, and it's not that fanciful nonsense you have in your head, Valeria."
Her temper flared, but hurt fed its flames. "Oh yeah? I know enough to confirm that you and dad don't love each other. You're always bickering whenever I'm home."
"There's more than one form of true love," the King interjected. "But it's rarely flashy like the kind you read in books. You'll understand one day. For us, as royals, one of the most important is an ally you can trust, respect, and yes… in time, love." He looked quickly at his wife, who flushed a tiny, tiny bit.
Valeria turned away, ashamed. They were right. She knew she was fighting a lost cause. And though she knew her pride was wounded more than her heart, she did truly wonder whether or not she'd meet someone like that wizard ever again. Someone she thought was worthy of her. Someone she desired.
The doors swung open again.
All three royals turned to look at the out of breath herald who'd arrived.
"My lieges," the man started, his eyes flickering briefly (was that dismay on his face?) toward the conspicuous stains on the frilly shirt the King was sporting, "Young Prince Herbert of Astergia requests an audience."
"At this hour?" the Queen asked, also glancing quickly at her husband's quickly purpling face (he stared down in dismay at his attire).
"Well, I'm sure he can be convinced to wait until tomorrow. He said to send word of Princess Valeria's health, and hopes that she is well after the, uh... events last night."
Valeria shook her head.
"Ugh, that ninny."
Then she smiled.
For a ninny, he did have impeccable timing.
.
.
.
Howl felt defeated and vulnerable. It was awful.
"Sophie, I love you, the old you, the real you. I would do anything…" he trailed off, throat and eyes on fire.
Words like this were of no use right now.
He had to refuse her.
He couldn't sustain this any longer on empty words of sweet promises and wait for me's and kisses and more.
It's a terrible thing to be laid bare.
Sophie, the real Sophie, with a warm, beating heart, had slapped him all those days ago—she had committed herself to his welfare—bravely, boldly.
He'd known it when he spoke to Calcifer, had an inkling when he'd spoken to Suliman. Howl wouldn't slither. He wouldn't abandon. He would run—toward her. He would try for forever. For commitment. And that meant abandoning the easy route.
.
.
.
Lissy, silversmith's daughter, beautiful, desirable, happily single and unattainable, thank you very much, had had her bedroom window assailed with many objects before—mostly letters in the form of airplanes, flowers, flower petals, fake forms of snow, music, ranging from the mildly saccharine to the kind that made your ears bleed.
This time it was a hard object, and it thumped noisily against the window like a stone.
So when she drew back her curtain, she was fairly astonished to see a grinning, somewhat familiar face down below.
Dear heavens, it was the Prince!
She wrapped herself in a seldom-used shawl, to avoid notice, and tiptoed downstairs and out the door to meet him.
He waved cheekily at her when she met him by her family's hedges, the shrubs tall enough to obscure them from view of the town's streets.
"How did you get in?" Lissy demanded.
"I have my ways." Prince Justin laughed. "But in all truthfulness, I found a door specifically for secret admirers. I've had a lot of experience in these things."
Lissy could have flushed, even snapped at him, but these things were futile. She had met her match in the form of terribly un-charming Prince, it seemed.
"Why are you here?" she asked lazily. "Do you like Sophie so much you'd come to me for information? If you must know, she's not home at the moment."
Prince Justin laughed again. "Oh? I didn't check, since I figured as much. Sophia makes me wonder… how a girl like her exists, who's in love with a man without asking for anything back."
"Sophie," Lissy corrected.
Prince Justin's eyes twinkled. "Allow a man his fantasies. She's Sophia in my mind, when I first met her… and I'm curious about her, yes. Anyhow, why is she so naïve? It's like she doesn't understand the visceral, material pleasures in life. But even so, she's so… joyful."
Lissy snorted, unafraid of however this un-prince-ish man judged her. He was clearly too good at playing the game to try to fool.
"It's firstborn syndrome. Low expectations is a requirement around here for them, you know. Anything could make her happy." Ruefully, she had to admit that it was Sophie's industrious nature and stubborn naiveté that inspired something more than just that explanation.
"Well, what makes you happy? You're not first-born of three, I assume, so what do you want?"
He was laughing at her! His eyes gleamed as he observed her reaction.
Lissy laughed along.
"I want the moon. But mostly just gold and a house with sizable hunting fields."
His surprised answering laugh was booming. "That's scary."
"Isn't it terrifying?" Lissy jabbed, a hint annoyed that men didn't have to play such games, but hey, royalty did, and a prince would understand.
"But of course, I'd never say it aloud to anyone I was seriously considering," Lissy added.
Prince Justin paused.
"You aren't considering me? I'm the prince."
Lissy snorted again, because pretending to be stupid was unbecoming on a man.
"Now you're the one being terrifying, Prince."
Prince Justin nodded, contemplating something like respect for her.
Lissy eyed him from behind her fluttering fan, all confident coquettishness and a practiced, easy humor. Her eyes, her tendrils of hair, her upturned lips, all of this made him respect her more.
He could learn to love someone he respected.
"You, my dear Lissy, are the most horrifying practical girl I've met—including all the brothel girls from Kingsbury."
She pretended with a subdued laziness that this offended her.
"You clearly don't know as much as you claim, stupid Prince. Don't you know? Prostitutes also have dreams, and ladies have needs. Now why don't you escort a lady home properly?" she purred, laughing at him and herself and this silly, silly game.
Prince Justin looked at her glowingly.
"Well, my dear, you're not a lady. You're positively—"
.
.
.
"—heartless," Howl said.
Sophie looked at him hard. Her arms shook where Howl held them, away from him.
"Don't. Please."
Howl's stupid heart lurched, and he enveloped her in a hug, feeling the feverish warmth of her slight form. "Not this, Sophie," he pleaded. "Not one night. Not something skimming the surface. We'll figure something out where you can get your heart back. Let's do this when we're both ready, when it's a promise of hair-raising, awful messes of jealousy and doubt along with the highs. "
"T-that's a silly incentive." She shook in his arms.
"Trust me. Let's try." I'm scared too… Howl was too scared to say.
"There's no happily ever after, Howl. I'm heartless, and you've got no magic. Isn't this better than nothing at all?"
"Try." Howl repeated.
Hoping against all hope.
"We'll get your heart back," Howl whispered fiercely. "It's about trying. Even with both our hearts, we'll still be heartless to each other at times, Sophie."
Something wet leaked onto the fabric of Howl's shirt. Blast. Maybe he should have taken a shower? Maybe he smelled so much since the ball that Sophie's sinuses had given in?
A soft voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Are you sure?"
He drew her closer, feeling a steady rhythm that could have been his heart, pressed up against her hollow chest.
"Unfortunately, I'm a perfectionist, so I only want to try the version where we do this damn Happily Ever After thing until both of us have skin bearing an uncanny resemblance to prunes. Sophie, you know I'm not mysterious or charming, and I've got no riches or kingdom to speak of," Howl remarked, with a tired, wry grin. "But I think we ought to live—"
.
.
.
"Happily ever after… those spells are so troublesome," Suliman mused.
The aging witch smiled to herself. Her so-called love spell was preposterous, of course. Love spells usually were, and Suliman liked to cancel their effectiveness as soon as it got people over a hurdle of sorts, to begin dialogue. However else did the previous King of Ingary pluck up the courage to speak to his wife, hm?
Magic, though, was only a bridge of opportunity. It could not compete with the real thing.
She did want to see her ex-pupil settle down and commit, and her curiosity got the better of her in finding out if that was possible. Yes, a bit of retribution, a warning, so to speak, was added in—Howl was, in many ways, a child. The likelihood that he and Valeria would ever tolerate each other was next to nothing—they would be two children, playacting at love. Suliman would much rather see things unfold with that little Hatter girl.
"When will you grow up, I wonder? Is it now?"
She laughed as her scrying picked up a small blip on the corner of the Wastes bordering Market Chipping, away from Kingsbury.
Certainly, keeping her frivolous ex-student far from the royal bloodline of Ingary was an added bonus.
Now, where was her pen?
.
.
.
"I want you for keeps, Sophie. I'm the one who can wait this time."
"How—"
But instead of finishing his name, Sophie stopped herself and whispered in a soft croak.
"Calcifer, please. It is done. It doesn't hurt anymore. Howl didn't force it. Howl said… he said he'll wait for me. Calcifer, our bargain's done. Thank you, you can… keep this heart."
The words invoked magic, old magic. A contract with details Howl would have had no way of knowing. The taste of the words seemed to echo against the walls, words spoken in spite, in fear, then, in forgiveness and sacrifice.
"Trust you?"
Humans only love when they get something in return
"You gave him a dandy present he's been wanting back for YEARS!"
Please
"Conniving, selfish, cowardly, vain human man who refuses to see his own limits"
"Please. Don't take anything else away from Howl. Take – instead."
Ten thousand years
Somehow, Sophie had wrested herself from a shell-shocked Howl's embrace and ambled out the bedroom door and down the steps.
Alarmed but hazy from bearing the brunt of the blast of magic from Sophie's words, Howl followed after, nearly tripping on various things on the bedroom floor he'd never bothered cleaning. A strange magical suction seemed to be drawing him downstairs, as if a vortex of air was gathering to where Sophie had gone.
After nearly going head-first down the stairs, Howl leapt across the small living room and intercepted the young woman before she could put a hand out to the fire demon, now the size of a campfire and leaping from the hearth.
H-holy...
Calcifer, if this fire could be described as Calcifer at all, leapt in blues, greens, and varying shades of red. It glowed white hot at places that seemed to resemble a face, but it was too difficult to tell, so amorphous was the form of the demon.
"Calcifer! No, take mine instead. Don't let Sophie suffer this!"
The blaze licked at Howl's hair, heat searing the surface of his skin as he held out his arms in a futile attempt to contain the enormity of the once-small ball of fire.
Howl registered a dull thud behind him.
Sophie had collapsed to the floor. Something was wrong, so, so wrong. Is this what happened to a non-magical person when they tried to make a contract with a fire-demon? Had she given him something beyond anything Howl had? Was it her very soul?
Calcifer roared, truly more demon and force of nature than anything else Howl could describe his former partner as. The blaze consumed the hearth, spreading to the kitchen countertops, edging closer as sparks sizzled and leapt to set the floor aflame.
Howl fell to the ground, trying to shield Sophie's body with his own.
"You old Blueface, stop this! Calficer! Return to your senses! Sophie! Sophie, look at me!"
She remained a still form on the floor, the temperature around them like a dry desert, with mounting pressure as the oxygen was sucked out of the room. There was no breath coming from Sophie's lips.
He didn't know exactly what compelled him to do it, but there was only one objective in his mind as he moved.
Howl stepped into the fire, feeling it envelop him, feast on his flesh, as he moved closer to its heart, hand grasping for the fleshy lump in the eye of the fiery storm. He put another hand to his own chest as he felt the great leap of his organ, as if it knew what was going to happen.
Sophie's.
Not Calcifer's, not his, but Sophie Hatter's.
The minute his hand closed on Sophie's heart, Howl's consciousness left him.
.
.
.
Ten thousand years you'll slave,
Taking the heart of one fair and faithless
The day, bewitched, one falls,
The heart will go, taken back
And you ended in two hundred days.
.
Ten thousand years you'll fly,
Given the heart of one pure and true.
An offering for two's sake
Frees all bonds.
.
.
.
A groan.
Slowly, his senses started returning, one by one. He heard himself first. His voice, parched. Water, he thought. An instinctive, base need coursed through him. I'm alive.
A familiar fizz and crackle floated near his ear as a snide voice remarked.
"Geez, you'll both me miserable, you know. You really want to keep this up?"
Sophie. Where was Sophie?
His eyes were stubbornly glued shut. Painful and hot and unwilling to open.
"This'll be hard on both of you, you know."
"…I'll… keep trying." Howl breathed through cracked, dry lips.
"That's probably the right answer, though beans if I know. I've forgotten the poem, as I told you."
"What… poem?" Howl gasped, feeling the rise and fall of his chest and a soft thumping. Huh. He'd thought he'd given that away…
"Yeesh. Wake up, will ya? I want to say goodbye before I float away for good, Howl."
Howl blinked heavily. His lashes felt singed, but somehow, still there.
"God, do I have a hangover? This is just like a hangover."
"You didn't drink, you big baby. Get up. Sophie's stirring too."
Howl shot up like a spring.
The pale soft light of dawn lit his castle, which, although it had always been humble, was more dilapidated than ever. His kitchen and parts of the living room were blackened beyond recognition, and there was a dark layer of soot covering everything. The hearth was empty, to Howl's surprise. He scanned the room. His eyes landed on the figure in a plain gray dress a few feet away.
His legs wobbling and threatening to buckle under him at any moment, Howl half walked, half crawled to Sophie. She was a bit sooty, but overall perfect. A healthy flush was on her cheek, and Howl cradled it, tenderly, putting a soft hand to her chest, feeling the soft thump-thump underneath.
Did this mean...?
"…Calcifer," Howl whispered, tears threatening to fall.
"Yeesh, I'm right here, you dolt. You think my majestic voice is a hallucination?"
Howl whirled around. Floating a few feet from the ground, at Howl's eye level where he kneeled, was the fire demon.
"You're alive," he breathed incredulously.
Calcifer was a small puff of flame. Too tendrils extended in a characteristic shrug, although it was odd to see since the fire demon wasn't tied down to anything. There was no heart or other lump inside Calcifer's burning core, but Howl could feel a warm, humming life energy from the fire demon.
"What happened?"
The fire demon was orange and red, and glowed pink in something like pleasure.
"I remembered the poem. Or rather, you and Sophie helped me remember."
Howl didn't know whether to laugh or scoff.
"When I was in school, remembering old poetry never had drastic magical properties."
Calficer cackled, his expression gleeful.
"Two pure hearts, freely given. That gives me life. I'm free to live ten thousand years, in any case. Maybe poems are all spells in disguise, or vice versa. You humans have just diluted yours and filled it with romantic nonsense. True power doesn't need all that."
"True love, you mean," Howl breathed, still shell-shocked.
"Woah, still the romantic, Howl? You sure don't look it anymore. Your hair is like some kind of nest, and you've got black ash all over your face and fancy clothes."
Just as Howl's hand flew to his hair in dismay, Sophie's eyes fluttered open and she gave a soft but clear curse as she struggled onto her elbows, then knees.
"D-don't look at me!" Howl said, somewhat piteously.
Sophie's eyes were wide, staring straight at Calcifer's glowing, floating form, and then her eyes turned to Howl, who looked back at her in shock and embarrassment behind his raised, ash-encrusted hand.
Her eyes were a rich and vivid color, proper human eyes and not glass marbles.
"Well, you look like a Mad Hatter!" she smiled, then started laughing, much to Howl's chagrin.
It was a clear, ringing sound.
Calcifer joined in, and Howl reluctantly started laughing as well, before a great jolt in the castle stopped them.
.
.
.
"You felt it take?"
"Yeah, Calcifer. Was that…?"
"Suliman," Sophie piped up. "I felt it too."
Howl looked at her curiously. Was she still able to use m…? Calcifer muttered "side-effects" to him, and Howl decided, really, it didn't matter at all.
"What is it?" Howl asked. "What does she want?"
"There's a letter being pushed in through the barrier," Calcifer said. "Man, it's powerful. I guess I'll stay and listen to you guys read it before I go on my vacation."
Howl eyed Calcifer gratefully. "Yes, I'll probably need you, seeing as Suliman still has most of my magic."
"You'll always need me, magic or not," Calficer remarked smugly.
Sophie took charge, patting down her skirt and stepping over to the hearth and waiting patiently at the opening to the chimney as a white envelope floated down.
"This it it, then. A letter," she said, looking at Howl and Calcifer's surprised and impressed faces. She opened it, taking out a short notecard inside.
"Read it?"
Calcifer looked at Howl's admiring expression. "Please. Don't think loverboy can think straight at the moment."
Sophie smiled, a bit shy, but read in a steady, confident voice.
"Dear Howl, please visit me as soon as you are able so we can discuss arrangements for the return of your magic. It may include news of my retirement as well, but you will be briefed accordingly. With regards, your tutor and, potentially, predecessor."
Sophie looked up, meeting Howl's now wide eyes.
"Howl, are you alright?"
He nodded slowly, flapping a hand toward the floating fire demon next to him.
"Calcifer, you may as well start your vacation now. It looks like the past has finally caught up to me."
"Huh. It seems unfair that I'm free when you're about to be… you know."
Howl looked resigned, then thoughtful before he smiled and put on his best self-important tone of voice.
"You're looking at the future Royal Wizard, Calcifer. Don't you think my magic is more than enough without your measly skills?"
Calcifer crackled, a spitting hissing laugh that is not unkind, and filled with something like wonder. "You're just saying that, you old scroundrel…Eh, regardless, thanks for the freedom! Send me a buzz when you and Sophie set a date to get hitched!"
As both Howl and Sophie's faces raced to reach his signature color, the flame zoomed out of sight without further pizzazz.
Howl turned to Sophie.
"Sophie…"
"Wait for me one more day," Sophie parroted.
Her eyes, though, were sure and warm. There was no doubt or trouble in them.
"Probably," Howl said. "Or… you could come with me?"
Sophie grinned, radiant and whole and with a quick-beating heart matching Howl's own.
"No, you silly Wizard. I need to go back to Market Chipping before they worry, or gossip, too much. But don't take too long, or I'll leave for good."
Howl faked his best woeful gasp.
"Alas, lady, I thought we promised to be shackled together for life. Trust me-I intend to buy the gaudiest ring I see in Kingsbury as soon as my visit with Madame Suliman ends."
Sophie laughed. "Well, I've never hoped you successfully slither out of any plans until now!"
.
.
.
End Seven Nights
Suzu: The end to this series.
WOW. Thank you to everyone, all the reviewers, the readers, the betas. Thank you and God bless. I've enjoyed writing for you guys, and I'll miss this as much as I will miss your astute comments. Younger people who've never been IN love still read this, and I hope it marks a fun transition for them as it did for me.
Concerning epilogues: Will there be an epilogue? Hmmm… I don't have any plans at the moment, though I would possibly write a Market-Chipping possibly wedding scene tying up loose ends if people want it. It'll be my last foray into HMC, probably.
Concerning reviews: I know all your comments made me smile, and I'll try to respond to this chapter's, for old time's sake. It's really a shame that this site has become about faves and follows now, where reviews actually inspired and helped improve writers. No need to do so for me, but I would appreciate if there would be more of that culture around the HMC fandom and ff . net in general.
Concerning other ways to get your HowlxSophie fix: I'm plugging Tek Sonay's HMC fic here because there are so many brilliant parts of her writing that I never had in Seven Days or Nights. Especially her fic: Howl's Love Advice, which will leave you laughing on your floor, likely.
Aaaand, ja ne! It's been a trip!
Suzu