Prettyinpinkgal: Sorry for the wait, everyone! School kept me busy, as did finishing up some old stories of mine. However, summer has arrived, and with it, Chapter Twelve! Much thanks to my new beta, NamedForTheWind! I'm glad I teamed up with such a capable beta.
Thank you all for your reviews, and thanks especially to Xanthe Z. Young for urging me to update soon in her review response. Also, thank you to those who asked to beta for me. I appreciate the willingness.
One more thing: Since I'm usually not the sort of person to plan out a story and then write it out, I often forget to include details or put in a detail more than once, one of the reasons why I had decided to get a beta. The reason I bring this up is that I think I neglected to explain Martha and Lettie's situation in "Destiny". They never switch in my fanfic. Martha is known as Martha and works for Mrs. Fairfax. Lettie is Lettie and works at Cesari's. If there was some discrepancy before in previous chapters, sorry about that.
Now, without further ado, onto the story!
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Any recognizable phrases belong to the author.
DESTINY
CHAPTER TWELVE: IN WHICH THERE IS A FAMILY REUNION
Another bottle of brandy was empty. Howl sighed.
"Calcifer!" he declared. "We're out of alcohol!"
"I'm not surprised," Calcifer hissed back. "You drank three bottles today!"
"I'm quite entitled to it, I think, given what happened earlier today. I'm in the despair of depths."
"What?"
"The depths of despair. You knew what I meant."
"Howl, why don't you put the glass down and try to comfort Sophie? She was actually there when it happened."
Howl hiccuped, then frowned, setting his glass forcefully down onto the table. "You don't understand, Calcifer," he explained. "I can't stand it when a girl cri--hiccup--cries. And I think Sophie's doin' a lot of it."
Michael piped up, saying, "She's not."
"What?"
"I brought her a sandwich twenty minutes ago, and she didn't look like she was crying."
"Oh, good," Howl said, breathing a sigh of relief.
"But she did look sort of numb. That might be even worse than crying."
Howl cursed.
"There, now," Calcifer said mockingly. "You don't need to worry about any tears, so go ahead and talk to her."
"She wouldn't talk to me, but at least you could get her annoyed or something," Michael added.
"I don't want to! I'm terrible at comforting! I'm heartless, remember?" Howl said pointedly to Calcifer.
"Believe me, I know," the fire replied.
A swish of a curtain made the group perk up and turn to the little room under the stairs. Sophie stood there, hands on her hips, a strained, annoyed smile on her lips. "I can hear you, you know."
"Sophie!" cried Michael. "Are you alright? Here, have a seat." He hastily got up and motioned a hand towards the chair he had previously occupied.
"Oh, stop acting like I'm so fragile! I'm not about to burst into tears again, so don't you worry," she huffed. Sophie glanced at the empty bottle on the table. "Drat," she hissed.
"Oh, no," groaned Calcifer. "Please don't tell me you drink, too. We have a hard enough time dealing with him." He gestured towards Howl, who was staring at Sophie (although he was having quite a hard time with it; he couldn't seem to focus).
"Normally, I don't. But I think a sip might be helpful."
Sophie sat in the chair Michael had offered, feeling very depressed. Meeting Howl's gaze for the first time, she said quietly, "I'm sorry, Howl."
Despite the drunken glaze over his marble eyes, he looked at her sharply. "You did all you could."
"No, I didn't. I...I think I really should leave the castle. Permanently. "
There was a moment of silence. Then, the three other occupants began their protests.
"What about our agreement?!" Calcifer wailed.
"You can't go, Sophie! What about that fiance of yours?! And I...sort of like having you around. And what will I tell Martha?" Michael demanded.
Howl, meanwhile, was really, truly angry now, enough so that he cast a spell to rid himself of the alcohol's influence, although it brought about a hangover that much sooner. Glaring at her, he accused, "You've become as cowardly as I am!"
Sophie stiffened, ready to fight back. "Excuse me?"
"You heard me! Some unfortunate things happen, and you're ready to go!"
"What am I supposed to do! I deliver your curse right to you, and now Mrs. Pentstemmon's dead because I didn't work hard enough! This is beyond being the eldest of three sisters--I must be cursed!"
"Stop yelling! My head hurts!"
"You're yelling, too!"
"I know, and it hurts like you wouldn't believe, but I can't think of any other way of getting through to you!"
"Well, you're still not convincing me of anything!"
Now Howl's face contorted with rage, and--although Sophie suspected she was imagining it--hurt. "I'll make green slime again," he threatened in a deadly quiet voice.
"I don't care."
The two glowered at each other, one with eyes of cold steel, the other with burning fire. The opposites clashed and fought and allowed no clear victor.
However, while they both refused to back down, Sophie was starting to lose heart. She really should stay and help Calcifer and with the curse--and, blast it all, hadn't she gone through the reasoning for her stay before?--but perhaps she would help them more by leaving.
And then she registered what Michael had said.
She whirled round to face him, forgetting all about Howl, which annoyed him very much. "Michael, what did you say?"
"When?"
"Just a minute ago! What did you say about Martha!" She grabbed hold of the boy's shoulders and managed to restrain herself from shaking him.
"Well, I asked what I would tell her if you left."
"We are talking about the same Martha, aren't we? She twiddles her thumbs whenever she's telling the truth?"
"She does, doesn't she?" he laughed, fondly recalling previous conversations with the youngest Hatter girl.
Sophie's eyes widened. "Michael, are you...fond of Martha?"
The pink on his cheeks was all the answer she needed.
Well! This was certainly a surprise! Michael's a sweet boy, thought Sophie; Martha chose well, but it's still strange to think that she has someone serious in her life. She is only fifteen.
"Sophie, would you like to come with me tomorrow to see her? She's been worried sick about you, and the only reason she avoided coming her herself is that she wanted to make sure you would be alright with seeing her."
She bit her lip. "She won't let Fanny or Mr. Collins know, will she?"
"Of course not!" Michael protested adamantly. "She's been furious with her mother for pressuring you into marrying him! And she hates that man, anyway. What was it she called him? Oh, right: 'A disgustingly boring fool who is sexist and a proud idiot.' "
"That does sound like Martha," her half-sister said with a small laugh.
"She can be so passionate," Michael agreed, his voice filled with affection.
Howl, meanwhile, had had enough with being forgotten. "Who's Martha?" he demanded.
"My half-sister," Sophie replied, then proceeded to bombard Michael with questions regarding her welfare.
"You'll see her tomorrow," Howl said huffily. How he despised being neglected! Grabbing her hand almost roughly, he pulled her towards the door. "Come on, we're leaving."
"Where?" Sophie asked, bewildered. Honestly, she thought, he switches from one extreme to another!
"To Wales," he replied curtly, dragging her through the darkness and slamming the door behind him.
Michael and Calcifer stared after them. "Should I go with them before Howl does something rash?" Michael asked, although it was obvious by his tone that he'd much rather stay home. "I mean, he looks like he might get really angry, and you know how he is when he's like that. Even worse, what if he starts to create slime again?"
"In that case," Calcifer crackled in reply, "let that place deal with his tantrums. Just so long as I don't have to hear it."
Michael hesitated, then nodded. "But what about Sophie?" he asked as an afterthought.
"Oh, she'll easily make him regret annoying her."
"Howl?"
"Yes, my dear Sophie?"
She sighed; he was back to his charming self, it seemed. "Why are we here?"
"I thought a change of surroundings would do us both some good."
"Do you even remember what happened when we were here last?"
"Of course."
"You said it was dangerous here."
"I did, yes."
"And yet we're back?"
"The Witch wouldn't suspect we'd be in Wales right after Mrs. Pentstemmon's death. She'd think we'd be cowering in the castle."
"Which you want to do."
"That's beside the point. Now, first thing's first: Medication for this hangover."
Sophie glanced up at him. "Can't you get rid of it yourself?"
"I could, but I'd rather not work any unnecessary magic while the Witch is on the prowl."
Sophie hadn't had any time to consider her surroundings, so confused was she by Howl's decision to take her to Wales. But now she glanced about her, her memory of the mysterious land called Wales renewed by seeing it once again, despite the darkness which draped over the earth save for the small moon overhead. It really was quite different from her own Ingary...but perhaps that was the point of Howl taking her here, she realized. Perhaps, it was to distract her (and himself) from the detestable act committed in her native country. She could not help but become more than a bit appreciative of this--if he had, in fact, intended to be so kind, which was, in her mind, doubtful.
Before she could look about some more, a high-pitched squeal startled her. Before she knew it, her clothes had blurred to become a blouse and a scandalously short skirt. Howl's, too, had changed, displaying a baggy jacket with the words "WELSH RUGBY".
"Mari!" he then cried, holding his arms out for the small girl as she bounded up towards the two. He spun her round and round, which made her laugh.
"Uncle Howell!" she cried, her smile infectious. The two began chattering away in Welsh.
"Mari," Howl said in between bursts of the strange language, "you've met Sophie before, haven't you?" One might never have guessed what pain the noise was causing his poor head, but his niece was so sweet--and was the only member of his family who seemed to care at all about him--that he didn't have the heart to complain or tell Mari to quiet down, although she seemed to be rising in volume the more she talked. This did not, however, prevent him from wincing quite often.
Mari finally acknowledged what he had said, whipping her head around to see Sophie, who smiled and waved.
"Sophie!" The girl flailed her arms about until her uncle set her back down on the ground so she could now tackle Sophie with a hug. "I thought I'd never ever see you again!"
"Hello, Mari!" laughed Sophie.
Howl, meanwhile, seemed a bit disappointed that his planned alone-time with Sophie had been interrupted. But, he mused, I'm glad to see Mari likes Sophie so much. My niece always was an excellent judge of character.
"Cariad, I need to go get some medicine now. How about you show Sophie all of your new toys?" Howl asked.
"But I want to show them to you, too!" Mari huffed.
"I'll see them in a moment. Sophie, make yourself at home."
Just then, Mari's mother made her appearance. "Mari, what have I told you about going outside at night?" she demanded.
"Mother, Uncle Howell's back! And so's Sophie!"
Megan fixed her eyes upon the two. "Howell! Can't you at least call before popping up out of nowhere?"
Howell laughed. "Well, actually, I hadn't planned on visiting. But since Mari seems adamant on our staying, I suppose we will. If that's alright," he added, taking note of Megan's annoyed expression.
"Actually, I--" Megan began, obviously preparing on giving a long lecture.
"Megan! How good to see you again!" Sophie cried, anxious to avoid an argument. Goodness, she thought, it's no wonder Howl is such an expert of slithering out of things! I want to slither out of fighting, and I barely know Megan!
The woman now whirled on Sophie, surprise written all over her angular face. "Aren't you... Yes, you are, aren't you? I thought you said you didn't know Howell!"
"At the time, I hadn't," Sophie replied. It was the truth; she hadn't known Howl was really named Howell.
"I bumped into her in Knighton, and I was surprised that she met you. I took her out to dinner, and we've been spending time together since," Howl replied smoothly with a grin and wink in Sophie's direction.
"What nonsen--!" Sophie began to whisper with a forced grin. Why, she thought, indignant, did he come up with that excuse of all things?!
However, she was cut off by Megan, who was appalled. "Sophie, let me warn you now: Find someone else. My little brother is not the sort of person you want to be around, and especially not date!"
"Mother!" Mari cried importantly and excitedly, not knowing what the grown-ups were talking about and, frankly, not caring. "Can Uncle Howell and Sophie stay for dinner?"
Sophie replied, "Well, we actually ate--"
"Very well. It would be rude of me to say no," Megan said, although it appeared she would rather ignore propriety than have her disreputable brother and his strange friend over for dinner.
They went inside, with Sophie being led by Mari to her few toys and Howl immediately searching for any medication. Megan grumbled about the inconvenience and started slamming pots and pans onto the countertop in preparation for cooking.
"And I got this one for Christmas!" Mari exclaimed, shoving a doll at Sophie.
"How nice," Sophie replied with a grin as she took in the room and the small group of toys. "Where is your brother, Mari?"
"That meanie's upstairs," the child replied in a tone which suggested Neil was not worth discussing. "He called my dolls stupid today."
"That wasn't very nice."
"He's a --censored-- idiot."
Sophie gaped at the annoyed girl. She hadn't even known that word until she was fourteen! "Y-you shouldn't use such language, Mari!"
"It's okay; Father and Neil use it all the time."
Sophie was horrified. Using such language was one thing--she felt that certain situations called for it--but using it in front of an impressionable child was an entirely different matter. And young ladies in Ingary were not even supposed to know any crude words anyway!
Unsure if it was just lack of discretion or an excusable, common occurrence in this world, Sophie decided to let the matter drop. "I'll go see if your mother needs any help."
"You won't play with me?"
The heartbroken expression on sweet Mari's face was too much. "I will after dinner, alright?"
The child beamed and nodded. As Sophie left the room, Mari began busying herself to adjust her dolls for their upcoming fun-time with Sophie. She was positively thrilled; Mother never bothered with playing with her, and since Uncle Howell moved out he had hardly come to visit at all, let alone have time to play with her. Mari dearly hoped that Sophie would make Uncle Howell visit more often; they were both the nicest people she knew.
"Megan?" Sophie asked as she entered the kitchen. "Would you like any help?"
The woman froze, then relaxed. "Th-that's alright, Sophie."
However, the Ingarian woman knew unhappiness when she saw it. Sophie recognized the meal being made--luckily, there appeared to be some similarities between Ingary and Wales--and quickly pitched in. As she snuck a glance at Megan's face, she was surprised to see a woman who was obviously exhausted and depressed. This startled Sophie; she had subconsciously believed Megan had two settings: happy (to see an annoying person leave) and irritated (to see an annoying person come to try and talk to her). The expression on Megan's face seemed terribly familiar...
It took a moment for Sophie to place where she had seen it before. When she did, she very nearly smacked her forehead in mortification at her sluggish mind. Of course; it was the very expression that had appeared on her own face several times, one which she had tried to correct as she stared at her mirror back home. It included a morose brow, a lack of sparkle in eyes, and a mouth which was prepared to give a halfhearted smile if one's friends needed reassurance that one was happy or frown to create a mask of disapproval at everyone else but oneself.
It was the very look of one resigned to a fate one did not want.
Goodness! Who would have thought I could relate to Megan! Sophie thought as she stirred. Such a revelation was very strange indeed.
"Your daughter is very sweet," she said hesitantly.
"Yes, she is, but she can be so bothersome at times."
"How old is she?"
"She's five."
"I see. They can be a handful at that age."
Megan did a double take. "You don't mean to say you have your own children?!"
"No, of course I don't! I helped raise my two sisters, in a way; that's all I meant."
Howl's sister sighed with relief. "I see. But aren't you a bit...young for Howell? He is twenty-seven."
That old! "E-er, well--"
Thankfully, the man himself spoke from the table just then. "But it's love, Megan!"
Or, perhaps, rather than thankfully, unfortunately might be a better word choice.
"I'm sure," his sister replied sarcastically.
There were some comments such as "could you pass the pepper?" and "it smells delicious" before the two ladies whirled round to face Howl with uncharacteristic squeals.
"When did you get there?" Sophie demanded, glaring at his lazy self, who was just sitting there, doing nothing to help, while she and Megan were working hard to prepare dinner...
"Why, I came in right after you did, Sophie dear. I'm hurt that you didn't notice me! But a kiss might make me forgive you," he said innocently.
Sophie had to grip the counter so she wouldn't throw the frying pan at his head.
Luckily, Megan felt it was her duty as a big sister to walk over and whack Howl over the head.
"Hey!" he cried out in protest.
"Don't make such distasteful comments then!"
"You're just jealous because you didn't have a proper courtship like I'm giving Sophie," retorted Howl, pausing only to throw a dazzling (and infuriatingly charming) grin Sophie's way.
When Megan paused, Sophie's eyes quickly darted towards her face. Ah, yes. There was that expression again. "I had a little brother to take care of, if you recall," she growled. "I couldn't find a job to take care of us both, and Gareth came along--"
"So you married him as soon as you could," Howl finished rather bitterly. "But you should have looked harder. Isn't marriage for convenience a medieval notion, Sophie?"
"I--"
"Never mind; you wouldn't be a suitable judge, coming from your...background."
Sophie retorted, "If you don't want me to answer, don't talk to me!"
Megan, meanwhile, had gone back to preparing the meal with renewed vigor and speed, putting her irritation to good use. Sophie mentally applauded her. Megan's actions then slowed considerably, and her guest watched with amusement and interest at the scene.
"You know, Howell," Megan said kindly, her back still towards him, "Gareth is coming home early today. Just in time for dinner."
Sophie was standing close enough to Howl to hear him curse under his breath. "Well, then, we'd better go and get out of your way," he then said with his usual charm.
"Why, please don't go!" cried his sister with overdone sweetness. "You simply must stay. Gareth would be happy to see you, and I won't turn out my baby brother and his friend just because he's coming home!"
Sophie had now learned a very important lesson: Even the best slither-outer in all the worlds cannot always escape his clever sister and the looming threat of his brother-in-law.
As if on cue, the door opened, and in came a muscular man whom Sophie suspected to be Gareth. Slamming the door behind him, he yelled "I'm home!" and proceeded to rant to his wife--not checking to see if she was in earshot, just expecting it--about his various issues with work and how his boss promoted the completely wrong man and how the newly promoted employee was a complete imbecile and a son of a--
"Gareth, look who's here!" Megan cut in, a bright smile on her face as she waved her hands towards Sophie and a very ill-looking Howl (or perhaps he was only hung-over still).
Megan's husband glanced impatiently towards the guests, not hiding his surprise and irritation as he recognized his brother-in-law. "Howell," he said in a mature, but obviously strained, voice.
"Gareth," Howl greeted with the same tone.
Megan smiled at the scene, pleased with the punishment her brother would now undergo.
And Sophie smiled halfheartedly, no longer entertained and presently wondering if someone else would die before the day ended.