Apologies for the shortness. The next one will be longer. Hope it's okay regardless of the length. For most purposes, this is basically so things make some semblance of sense in the upcoming chapter, which I'm already half way through!

Thank you for your kind reviews. They mean a lot to me.

-sofi

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Beautiful Charm
Chapter V: A Multitude of Concerns

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Markl sat at the eating table, seemingly minding his own business, on occasion returning some clever retort at the fire demon behind him whenever Calcifer decided to be testy for no reason, which was often. Really though, really, out of the corner of his eye, he had been watching Sophie. She had stopped folding laundry ages ago it seemed and was now, Markl supposed without really noticing it herself, staring eerily out the window. And she was not looking at the town, but at the sky with its twilight of purples and sea-shell pinks. He wanted to voice his concern but was wary of it. Sophie was like a mom to him, or at least an older sister. Someone who looked out for him, but not just him, for old witch and Heen and Calcifer and of course, for Howl. Markl especially liked her for that. Not just anyone could put up with his master like she did. He knew better than anyone else probably! Since he regarded her like that though, his childlike side—since he was in essence, a child behind all that composed apprenticeship type behavior—did not want to know too much, did not want to see her vulnerability. His grownup side thought this feeling to be weak and stupid, but Sophie unwittingly coerced his childishness to be more present than his grownup side.

"Sophie, are you okay?" perfectly respectable question.

"I was just thinking about tomorrow," she said almost like she wasn't there at all and Markl suppressed a fear that clambered to rise into his throat.

"The Autumnal Gathering, right? It'll be fun, don't you think so Sophie?" Keep it light, he told himself. She turned and offered a weak smile that made him want to bury his face against her skirts like when he told her he wanted them to be a family, that made him want her to ruffle his hair and tell him it would all be okay.

"Yes, Markl. I hope so," and she went back to staring out the window and Markl could not bring himself to ask anything further. He excused himself to his room.

It was not as dirty as it could get. Not since Sophie moved in with them. It was however, still dirty, no doubt about it. Clothes lay about over his chair and his bed and anything else that could have something slung over it. Spell books and various satchels and other magic learning stuffs poked out of every crevice and niche in the room from floor to ceiling. Scattered throughout, there were unrecognizable objects that Markl himself couldn't rightly remember the identity of and as such, just left them where they were hoping he would one day recall their purpose—if they had one.

He plopped down on the edge of his bead and it sighed beneath him. The door nudged open followed by a distinctive wheeze and Markl laughed gratefully as Heen toppled him over, sniffing him like they'd never met before. The dog turned out to be one of his greatest delights, somewhat curious but with a droopy, shrewd kind of smirk plastered on his furry face, Heen took to trailing him or old witch usually. Sometimes Sophie used him to wake up Howl and this made Markl's smile widen. That was always fun to sit around and watch. So caught up in his thoughts, he didn't hear the door open further and started slightly as Sophie clicked the door behind her shut.

"Markl," she said and kneeled before him, peering softly at him in what Markl was surprised and confused to recognize as an apologetic look, "Don't worry about me, okay? I didn't mean to upset you." Her words reminded him of the 'older' Sophie but had a tenderness that only youth could yield and he looked down at his feet.

"Will things be okay?" he asked.

"I am sure they will," her response was so firm he could do nothing but believe her and he grinned at her she ruffled his hair mercilessly. "Now take this dog out and chase him until he's wheezing enough to take a nap. He keeps getting in my way when I try and mop!" Her smile reassured his heart and he did as she asked without hesitation. Sophie watched him go and even as her smile began to dim she brought it back as Howl appeared in the doorway.

"I wish you would share your dream with me," he stated.

"I wish I could," she lamented.

"Is it so terrible?" his voice lilted with a deep rooted sadness and she shook her head.

"I can only remember how it felt and I could be blowing this way out of perspective," she tried to be honest and soothing all at once, with little success as Howl snorted with a strange amount of derision.

"You're one of the most level-headed persons I know, Sophie," and without actually saying it, Sophie knew he was telling her that he didn't entirely believe her previous statement. But how could she tell him she was about to leave last night? How could she tell him that the only way to protect what she loved was to figure this out on her own?

Was she even certain of that?

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And it was that moment that had brought Sophie to where she was now, walking the steps to the Prince's palace. Alone, she made an awkward if lovely picture, this single girl-woman midway through the many stairs to the entry. Her yellow sundress was vivid like sunlight, sleeveless and more her age than anything else she had ever worn; it of course, still came to her ankles as any respectable woman might hope it would. No sleeves and a clearly square cut neckline that showed off her collarbone area nicely was plenty bold enough of a fashion statement for Sophie and Howl missed no opportunity to lightly tease her about her modesty—some might call it shyness too. He insisted such things were not only lax where he came from, but on the whole, just very different and Sophie sometimes believed him, sometimes did not.

Adjusting her hat, Sophie sighed. She had no idea any more what she had hoped this would amount to.

To change the future? She considered it, however unlikely it might be.

If one could not change the past, why would one be able to do the other extreme? It seemed foolish from the get-go, as it was. Still, she felt a try could not hinder them more than ignorantly waiting for something to come to pass. She squared her shoulders and made her way up the rest of the steps. Maybe if she saw the Prince first, maybe...maybe she could stop what seemed on the surface, unstoppable.

Hoping she blended in with the other daily visitors to the palace, she continued a trek much easier than her last visit to this grand staircase and noted wryly how nice it was to be her normal age.

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Elsewhere, well not really elsewhere, back at the moving castle:

Howl paced.

He didn't do it often.

But here he was.

Pacing.

Outside Sophie's door.

Pacing.

Back and forth.

Left and right.

This way and that.

To and—

"HOWL!" Markl practically mauled the absentminded Howl Jenkins's pant leg. The beautiful wizard shook his head, as though confused.

"Mm, what's that Markl?" his eyes dropped lazily to acknowledge his young apprentice. The boy put his hands on his hips very much in a mother-hen fashion.

"You've been waiting for an hour. Don't you think you could just knock?" Markl asked very matter-of-factly. Howl shook his head.

"I just can't understand it...she's never slept in so late before..." Apparently the shake of his head had not been towards his now rather irate apprentice who proceeded to tap his foot impatiently. It had been a mere and further sign of Howl's absentmindedness and fretful behavior. Howl ran his fingers perplexedly through his hair and let go a great sigh. This was the still-there coward in him, or maybe not even coward, but child. He could be dashing, or something like it. He could be debonair and mischievous and all manner of things that boasted a confidence that was more bravado than bounty. But he could not a times like this, times involving Sophie usually, rely on those sorts of things. For here he was, uncertain and worried about waking her if she had indeed slept in for once, and equally worried that if he didn't go in she might be waiting for him to do so or maybe she...Howl stopped pacing.

Maybe...he turned and with a quick flick of his wrist had the door wide open.

Maybe she wasn't there at all.

Her bed was neat and made and nothing seemed out of sorts except for the absence of the hat maker herself. His eyes shadowed themselves with something unreadable, barely registering Markl's head at his waist, peering around the doorframe.

"Master Howl? Where's Sophie?" the young boy didn't even notice his use of 'master' which had for most purposes been foregone ever since Sophie returned Howl's heart.

"That fool," Howl muttered loudly—if one could mutter loudly and Howl certainly pulled it off—and without answering a perplexed Markl, he fled through the Kingsbury door, his apprentice at his heels as Heen and old Witch stared blankly after them.

"Howl!" Markl yelled. "What's going on?"

"Sophie, that idiot, went to the palace by herself. It's those nightmares, I'm certain," Howl fumed at himself for not noticing sooner and at Sophie for her unusual show of tactlessness. Markl struggled to keep up, a little more annoyed with every five steps to match Howl's one.

"That's not making any sense to me Howl!" the boy was exasperated with his master's renowned vagueness and was truly surprised when Howl skidded to a halt, turned and poked Markl in the chest, though not unkindly.

"Markl, go back to the castle. This will be much faster if I go alone. You're just going to have to trust me when I tell you I'm not coming back without Sophie, alright?" It was not at all an explanation, but it did the job. Markl was wise beyond his given years and knew exactly when to push Howl and when to subject to him. This was one of the latter moments and with one last questioning stare that belied his worry, he turned to go back. He felt a hand ruffle his hair caringly a moment later. "I'll bring her back, Markl." The boy turned around, knowing the wizard would be gone by the time he did and stared at the empty space.

"You better, Howl Jenkins," he mumbled and made haste back to the castle.

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