Author's Note: The phrase "ano sa" is one of the many Japanese expressions that have no direct translations into English. Its connotation depends on the situation, but the closest I can come to a general, natural English translation would be "By the way..." or "Hey, you know..?" Why am I explaining this? So you'll see where I do actually insert the theme for this piece. It's there, just buried.
Enjoy!
Kiss Theme #5 - "ano sa"
Rating: PG-13 (for a disturbing image and some subtle adult conversation)
Pairing: Howl/Sophie
Genre: Drama
Summary: In which Howl is feeling things, and Sophie makes a declaration.
Casualties of War
by Mimea
That's it. He'd finally lost it. Many would say that Howell Jenkins lost any semblance of sanity he may have had long ago, but Howl himself knew he'd been able to keep at least one thread. Until now.
Maybe it was overwork. With all the King's demands, he had barely time to breathe. Of course, he was actually under less pressure now that Sullivan had finally remembered his responsibilities after a stern talking-to from his new wife Lettie. But there had to be a reason...
"Howl?"
"GAH!" The great wizard leapt several inches off the stool he had been sitting on. He whirled around, eyes wide, until he got himself under control. "Sophie," he remarked a little breathlessly. "What is it?"
"I should be asking you that." Sophie sat in the chair before the hearth, having turned it so that the bluish flame of a napping Calcifer warmed her back. "You've been awfully jumpy lately."
Howl carelessly waved her concern away and turned back to his current project. The war was nearly won. Strangia had been beaten most of the way back.
"Just one more invention of yours, Pendragon! That's all we need!" the King had declared.
"Merely exhausted from the demands being made upon me by King and country," he told her. "You certainly blackened my name well. The King is looking to ME to put an end to this asinine war!"
"I had nothing to do with it," Sophie sniffed. "It's not my fault you're too clever for your own good. Besides, I was only doing what you told me to back then. Everything since then has been entirely your own fault."
Something was definitely wrong. Even arguing with Sophie wasn't lifting the cold dread that had settled in the pit of his stomach and deep in his heart.
Someone was watching him. He could feel their eyes everywhere. Sometimes it wasn't so strong, like when he went to the castle in Kingsbury. But here in his own home, there were times like this when the sensation was so strong it set every magical nerve tingling in defense. But if he really wanted to think about it, for once, it wasn't for his own sake that he was scared.
It was wartime. And while Calcifer and even Michael could hold their own, he would bet any sum of money Sophie would find herself in the thick of trouble. She could protect herself when the need arose. He had no doubt of that. But the silly girl just didn't tend to THINK when she most needed to! If someone was watching him, they had to be watching Sophie, too.
Yet she seemed as ornery, contrary, organized, and perfectly lovely as ever.
Or did she?
Something niggled in the back of his mind, and he desperately waded through the murk of his thoughts to catch hold of it again.
"Stop tinkering with that thing, Howl, and come to bed." Sophie put her hands on her hips in a manner that made Howl feel distinctly uncomfortable, for it was a perfect imitation of his well-meaning older sister. Right down to the forceful blue eyes attempting to stare him into submission.
Howl shook his head and turned back to his work. "No can do, sorry. I wish there to still be a bed once morning comes. If the Strangians get so much as a whiff of where to attack, you can be sure this place will be the first on their list."
Sophie snorted. "You hid away from the Witch of the Waste well enough," she reminded him. A shadow of self-doubt flitted over her face. "It was my fault she caught up. If you could face her, you can easily protect this place from anything the Strangians might try!"
Howl sighed. She was so utterly EXASPERATING! Ordering him hadn't worked, so she had complimented him. The thing was, she didn't even realize she was doing it! She had such complete faith in a scoundrel like him, and not a whit of it in herself. At times like this he was always torn between taking her by the shoulders and rattling her until that self-doubt dislodged itself, and crushing her soft body to his and wordlessly convince her once and for all that SHE was the one thing he believed in wholeheartedly.
And that he was scared witless at the thought of losing her.
Now he thought he might understand a bit the soldiers who marched out onto the battlefield. What was courage, after all, than an emotion born out of fear? It had taken the threat of losing Sophie to turn him into what others considered to be a hero. But he was no hero. Merely a man. A very desperate man. Desperately in love with a shrewish, blunt woman who knew every single one of this faults, and loved him anyway. For no good reason.
Then again, he'd had no good reason to fall in love with her, either. So he really couldn't blame her.
But the fact remained there was someone watching them. Someone who might somehow gain access to the Castle and make him watch as the home he had unwittingly created for himself was torn apart brick by brick. He shuddered.
Sophie shot a look toward the fireplace. "Lazy fire demon," she muttered and went for the poker.
"Leave poor Calcifer alone, Sophie. A cat merely walked over my grave is all."
Sophie raised an eyebrow, but he could almost see in her eyes the decision to ask about that particular expression another time. "Are you sure? Your hands are shaking, too, Howl."
Curse it, she was right!
Howl rubbed his clammy palms on the cloth covering his thighs, heedless of the expensive material. At least it might warm them and rid them of the evidence of his upset. "I'm perfectly all right. Go on ahead, Sophie. I must figure out this last bit of the King's elaborate puzzle." Accompanying his last sentence, he waved his hand behind him dismissively, not daring to turn around and see her reaction.
Which was the biggest mistake he'd made all evening.
Sophie's expression darkened, her brows drawing together in a rush of extreme irritation. Convinced he was too absorbed in whatever petty problem the King had dumped into his lap, she began to make the hand motions that Howl had taught her to increase the power of her words. She spoke them deliberately, no louder than the sound of her own breathing. But their inherent magic burst out with all the force of her emotions behind them.
And Howl's flimsy half-spells exploded in his face.
Sophie stood, the very image of an avenging angel as her husband choked in the pea-souper of black smog she had caused. After a few moments, the smoke cleared enough that she could see Howl's glowing green eyes fixed on her with an expression that would have sent anybody else running as far away as they could. But she was not about to be intimidated.
"Now you have to start from scratch anyway. Your mind will be fresher in the morning, so leave those blasted bits of metal until the sun rises!" Sophie demanded.
Howl was trembling. "Do you realize what you have DONE?" On his last word, he stood all at once, knocking over the stool he had been sitting on to round on her furiously. He came dangerously close to her in two strides. Never before had he been seriously tempted to hit his wife, but the desperate fear inside him wanted to lash out at something, anything. And there was no real enemy he could focus his excess negative emotions on. Strangian soldiers would only leave him with a guilty conscience as he remembered they were merely men, like him, protecting their families with what few resources were left to them. "We are in WARTIME! You are in DANGER!" He stepped even closer, forcing Sophie backward as he continued his panic-filled harangue. "Don't you understand that?" His voice broke as he found himself perilously close to tears.
It was the evidence of salt water threatening to fall that took the wind out of Sophie's sails with the force of a physical blow. He had backed her up against the wall, his hand braced against the whitewashed cinderblock and his face only inches away from hers.
Then he bowed his head. His shoulders shook, and Sophie saw several droplets sparkle as they rapidly descended from his eyes to the floor. Howl, the great Wizard Pendragon, Royal Wizard to the King of Ingary, crumpled into a heap on the floor before her. His sobs tore at her heart. They were brokenhearted and terrified, the crying of a child caught in the throes of a horrible nightmare.
Sophie instinctively sank to her own knees, cradling his shoulders with one arm while pulling his head to her breast with the other. The front of her dress dampened, but she did not care in the least. All she could do was hold him, trying to keep him together as he threatened to break apart.
Eventually, he seemed to have exhausted the well of liquid torment within him, but he still hiccupped in her arms as he tried to get himself back under control. He felt hollow and empty, frozen with terror. There was nothing he could do. He was helpless.
"I'm so sorry, Howl. I didn't realize..." Sophie trailed off, words failing her as she rained kisses down on his hair, which had been tinted the raven-black she liked best.
Then suddenly, she was in his arms, pulled so that her body was flush up against his. His chin hooked over her shoulder, his breath warm on the back of her neck. Those slender arms that hid an incredible amount of strength pressed her so tightly she could barely breathe. She could feel the lean muscle of his chest, the bones of his ribs, the natural bulge of his pelvis pressed against her in a way that in any other situation would have been lewd. It was as though he was trying to absorb her. And frankly, she wouldn't have cared if he did.
However, at that thought, something happened.
Howl bit out an oath and sprang back. Sophie noticed the lingering energy surrounding him, as if someone had cast out with some sort of power and caught him unawares. His eyes darted all around the room, readying himself to lash out at whoever was watching from the shadows. He pivoted, thrusting Sophie behind him, only to feel the eyes boring into his back. He turned to look at her, but she seemed to be just as perplexed as he was.
"Did you feel that just now?" he asked.
"Which particular thing?" She wasn't really trying to be stubborn for once. Just so much had happened so fast, she wasn't sure what he was referring to.
"That surge of power!" He touched his hair gingerly, the air sparking as his fingertip brushed the end of one strand. He winced. Then he focused on her, completely puzzled. "Didn't you feel it?"
Sophie shook her head. "No, I didn't."
"Not even a hair? A fraction?" Sophie continued to shake her head "no" emphatically in answer to each question Howl posed. Howl's eyebrows lowered in thought. "How could you not?" Then a stray thought chilled him to the marrow. What if the one who had been watching them was actually only watching HIM, waiting for an opening to make an attack? If he died, there would be no one to protect his home or family. Calcifer and Michael would make a valiant attempt, but he was still stronger, and his connection to Calcifer was already deeply ingrained. Michael would have to try and forge a link, and might kill himself in the process.
He would have to find the strongest shield spell in existence, and somehow strengthen it. There was no choice. Howl took hold of his wife's shoulders.
"Sophie, I have reason to believe that my life may be in danger. I thought the most likely target was you, but that bolt of power I just felt... I haven't been hit with anything that strong in a very long time."
Sophie's eyes grew wide. "Someone's after you?"
"Me. Us. Probably me first, then you once I'm out of the way." His green eyes burned intensely, mimicking the odd green curls of Calcifer's hair. "You have to get out of here, now."
"And where are you expecting me to go?" Sophie demanded.
Howl gave her an incredulous look. "Away from this world. To Wales, cariad. That's the only safe place. If I block off that doorway, at least until the war is over, then you should be safe."
"No Howl!" Sophie's chin rose defiantly. "I won't leave you here alone. Besides, how would I get back home if you're not here?"
"I'd find some way to bring you back, even if..."
Sophie placed one finger firmly against his lips. She, of all people, knew the power of words, and thus she was determined to prevent him from speaking of such a thing. She shook her head. "Don't even think it," she said aloud. "I'm not leaving. I refuse to go to Wales. I will not have Megan giving me all sorts of odd advice and telling me how things should be done for months on end!"
Howl looked at her strangely, gently taking her hand and lifting her finger away from his mouth, pressing his lips against her fingertip as he did so. "Now, Sophie, I of all people know that Megan can be a bit overbearing, but I believe you're getting carried away."
"No, I'm not! I'll get fat as a cow and she'll torment me with advice until I convince her milk to curdle, her horrible decor unravel and peel, or her kitchen knives to come to my defense!"
Now Howl was completely lost. He regarded her, halfway convinced that she, too, had lost whatever sanity she once possessed. Perhaps such things were catching. "Sophie, you're not making any sense whatsoever," he told her, deciding that in this case, bluntness might shake her out of her hysteria.
His intuition was right. She blinked, obviously confused. "You know full well what I'm referring to! Why else would you be so eager to send me out of harm's way when you know I'm perfectly able to take care of myself?"
Howl stood, keeping hold of Sophie's hand to help her rise before releasing her fully. He stepped back slightly, one hand working into his hair and scratching his scalp not deep enough to cause dandruff, but enough to try and get more blood flowing to his brain. He wracked his strained intelligence to attempt and unravel the mystery his wife had laid before him. "I know you are quite self-sufficient," he began placatingly, treading delicately on the eggshells she had strewn in the path of his understanding. "However, you are not stronger than myself, Calcifer, and Michael combined. That is why I would very much appreciate it if you would consider my... request."
Howl winced. He never thought that being suave and oh-so-courteously manipulative would ever give him a headache.
Sophie stared at him, both shocked and incredulous. "You really don't know, do you? I thought you would have ferreted it out long before I even realized what was happening, so I never said anything. Although I was wondering why you hadn't taken me to task yet for not even trying to tell you so you could have the last laugh."
"Sophie, I may be a wizard, but mind-reading is not one of my admittedly extensive collection of talents. What is this thing I have been supposed to have knowledge of?"
But Sophie was off on what seemed to be another tangent. "When I get my hands on the King, what I won't do to him! He's worn you into the ground, Howl! Apparently you wouldn't even notice your nose was falling off until it landed in your soup! I don't blame you, not in the slightest. All right, maybe a bit with your love of throwing yourself in twenty directions at once, but if you're this tired, soon you won't be of any use to anyone!"
"All right! All right! I'll get some rest, for God's sake!" Howl burst out. "Now quit changing the subject!"
Sophie grew quiet. Howl recognized the tremor in her arms and the straightening of her spine. She was gathering up courage for some reason. He gave her that time, watching her heaving bosom with interest to try and keep his own nervousness at bay. It had to be something of incredible importance to make his sturdy Sophie balk at telling him.
"Well I... I... You know..." She actually picked up a corner of her apron and twisted it in her fingers, her eyes fixed on the floor.
Howl came close to her and encased her hands with his own. Slowly, gently, he replaced the cloth with his fingers, twining with hers reassuringly and allowing the abused apron to fall back toward her feet. She raised her head at the sensation, and their eyes met. Howl saw her react to the warmth and love he was trying to project, drawing strength from his faith in her. He wanted to question her, but now was not the time. Silence would be far more welcoming to whatever words would come tumbling from her lips.
"I... I'm pregnant."
All the color drained from Howl's face as he regarded his wife in utter shock. His grip on her tightened, making her wince.
"I thought you knew, I really thought you did! You usually know everything, so I just took it for granted you knew." Howl's lack of response frightened her. "I'm sorry. I should have told you anyway. Me and my stupid belief that you'd hold my inferiority over my head for not figuring it out sooner. Are you unhappy? I know the war is still going on, so it's not the best time, but it wasn't exactly planned." Heat rushed to her face, but she couldn't stop talking. "I didn't even think about it when you needed me, that it might not be the right time, and I didn't have any medicines handy and didn't think it would be quite the right time to ask you..."
Her babbling was cut short as he squeezed the air out of her lungs, locking her in a massive bear hug.
"You're right, I should have known," he murmured in her ear. "I was so caught up in the King's projects I wasn't paying attention to what was going on at home. I hate admitting it, but you were right all along. I hereby solemnly swear I am going to inform the King I'm taking the next few days off. I don't care if he protests; he can go hang at the moment, making me miss this!" he told her vehemently.
"So, you're not angry?" Sophie ventured.
"Angry? Of course not!" And he punctuated it with a string of Welsh that Sophie understood only thanks to having asked Mari one day to translate the odd words she heard in the dead of night. Which had caused much giggling and blushing on the part of both girls at the mushy endearments flowing so easily from "heartless Howl".
Then suddenly, he stopped as if he'd been given a physical blow. He released her, staggering backward a bit and trying to catch his breath.
"Howl! What is it?" Sophie asked, alarmed.
But instead of panicking this time, Howl leveled a look somewhere she didn't expect: her lower abdomen. He raised an eyebrow and glared, giving himself time to recover. Then he walked slowly toward her, and very deliberately placed his hands over the area he'd been staring at.
"Howl, what do you think you're..."
This time, she did feel it. A surge of magic so strong, it sent the room spinning around her and a wave of nausea swept over her. Suddenly, she heard Howl speak, and the world snapped back into balance with a jolt. She stood, gasping, until she heard Howl talking in a tone she didn't think she'd ever heard from her rather childish beloved.
"Now that, young man, was most certainly uncalled for. Sending little shocks at me for disturbing you is one thing, making your mother ill and trying to bring the Castle down about our ears is quite another! No more magic unless I am here to supervise you."
Sophie felt a set of dry heaves come over her, and she choked. She made to run to the bathroom, but Howl caught her, his arms slithering around her rib cage.
"It's all right. The feeling will pass. The little blighter's just trying to throw off my neutralizing spell."
"If I make a mess, you're cleaning it up," Sophie panted.
But Howl was right, of course. A few minutes later, she felt much better. All that remained was the flutter of her baby's presence that she had been feeling for the past fortnight.
"How far along are you, anyway?" Howl inquired. "Officially, I mean."
"Nearly five months now."
Howl nodded, as if his own hypothesis had been confirmed. "And how long have you known?"
Sophie blushed. "Only a few weeks. I thought women were supposed to be sick, or faint, or something like that. I've been feeling out of sorts..." Howl snorted and Sophie lightly pressed her heel down on his toes. "All right, more out of sorts than usual, but that was all. Oh, and I had to let out the waist of a few of my dresses. I had been eating more than usual, but I just thought it was the war and, strangely enough, having the distinct lack of presence around the Castle from a certain Wizard who shall remain unnamed."
"What made you go to the doctor?"
"A rather odd feeling in the pit of my stomach is the best way I can describe it. Then I realized my monthly visitor hadn't stopped by in quite a while. I honestly believed it was pure stress, but I was worried that something might be... going wrong."
The words she used were euphemistic, but Howl understood what she meant. Even though the curse was well and truly lifted, and he himself had restored her inner organs to their true age earlier than the external glamour, they had discussed the fact that she could possibly have lingering effects. He felt slightly ashamed. Once the War had gotten in full swing, he hadn't given her the magical examination that was at once comforting and thrilling to make sure everything was functioning properly.
"I'm sor..."
"That is, until the doctor proclaimed with this silly grin on his face that I was actually going to have a baby. He seemed very amused that I hadn't realized it any earlier." Sophie leaned back, resting her head on the yielding muscle between his shoulder and collarbone. "You don't have to apologize, Howl. You had the kingdom to think about at the time."
"It is still inexcusable. Why ever did you agree to marry a bounder like me?"
Sophie pretended to think for a moment. "Temporary insanity," she declared. "Besides, if I remember right, there was nothing to agree to. You didn't even ask."
She felt him flinch slightly, and she shifted sideways slightly, tipping her head even farther back so she could see his chin and jaw up close. He looked down at her smiling face and realized she'd been teasing, then mentally pinched himself for having taken offense. He bowed his head, closing his lips over her upper one. Her lower one quivered in response as shivers ran up her spine.
A brief eternity later, he broke the kiss to give her a playful look. "I don't recall you protesting, though."
"Of course not," she replied, once she could find the power of speech again. "By the way, what exactly did you do earlier? Something about a neutralizing spell?"
Howl turned her so they could speak without causing uncomfortable cricks in their necks. "Apparently what I've been thinking was an enemy was actually the newest member of our family. It was HIM I've been feeling, and who administered those little shocks earlier. Apparently when I was holding you, I pushed him too hard for his liking."
"Him?"
Howl immediately contrived to look innocent. "Gender-neutral pronoun, of course."
But Sophie wasn't buying it. She should have expected Howl would ruin the surprise of the gender of their offspring. At least that would make it easier for decorating and clothing purposes. "So, our son is territorial, is he?"
Howl capitulated with a sigh, realizing she was not about to be misled. "Very. Takes after his old man, I believe. But he has to learn to share, and that he cannot create undue hardship for his parents. At least until after he has left the womb. Then we will need to tap our own resourcefulness to keep up with him. Although how he learned to focus his energies like that..." Howl's eyebrows disappeared beneath his now-unruly bangs as realization hit him.
Sophie watched with vaguely puzzled interest as Howl strode over to the hearth. He picked up the poker and very deliberately jabbed it into the faintly glowing embers.
"OW!" came the whining hiss of a very offended Calcifer, who blazed to life with an angry, wounded expression on his flame-made face.
"You haven't been sleeping at all during this exchange, have you?" Howl demanded furiously.
Calcifer bared his purple teeth in a silent laugh. "I was up until that nice explosion that I will lay bets on Sophie having been at the root of," he admitted. "I wasn't about to get in the middle of your little family chat. I value the 998 years I have left."
"So how long have YOU known?"
Calcifer yawned before answering. "About two months, maybe three. He gave ME quite a turn, prodding at me while Sophie was napping in her chair. She was oblivious, and you were busy. I wasn't about to worry her by saying 'You know, Sophie, your son is keeping me awake. Go up to your bedroom, please.'"
Howl gave vent to his anger the best, least-damaging way he knew. "Once AGAIN you've kept things from me I was supposed to know!" he accused.
"And that you could have known if you'd opened your eyes and actually looked at your wife as more than stress relief."
Sophie cringed slightly as Howl turned vaguely purplish. She had to do something, or the two would come to magical blows, which would most likely leave the Castle in ruins and make the unsuspecting residents of the three towns they occupied believe they were under attack from Strangian forces.
"So you've been training him in magic use without my permission?"
"I had to, Howl. You weren't here to do it, and he's incredibly strong. If I hadn't played tutor, who knows what he might have inadvertently done to Sophie? Did you ever think of that? You saw what happened when his control slipped a little. Imagine an all-out explosion of his power!"
Sophie felt a little sick, and obviously Calcifer's ruthless logic bored its way into Howl's rage-hazed mind. She could almost see the images swimming across his vision. Pieces of her hanging around the main room, decorating the walls and beams, their miniscule son gasping and wriggling helplessly like a fish on the wooden floor, deprived of the water-filled home she provided. It was horrifying.
"You see?" Calcifer said, not ungently.
Howl took a deep breath. "You're right. I hadn't even thought of that. Thank you, my friend, for protecting my family in my absence."
Calcifer turned an odd shade that Sophie would almost construe as a blush at the unexpected expression of affection. Sparks flew as he did a very close imitation to a human's throat clearing. "So, are you intending to keep your word and take a few days off?"
Howl nodded. "In fact, I'm revising it to an entire week. This War has been dragging on for months. It and Ingary can survive seven days without me. I am of no Royal use in this condition, and a danger to my family. I'll call in all the favors I did for Ben while he was off courting Lettie if need be. Or perhaps explain all the repercussions to His Majesty of a Wizard getting overtired."
There was a malicious, delighted glint in Howl's eyes at the last statement that reassured Sophie as to the return of his good humor. She ventured closer, and Howl put his arm carefully about her waist.
"In fact, I propose blocking off the Kingsbury door after I send my letter. What say you, Calcifer?"
"I say you're actually talking sense again. Good to have you back, Howl."
"Good to be back," he said, planting a kiss on the top of his wife's head for emphasis. When Sophie looked up, he continued. "Would you be open to the suggestion of helping me teach our son during my sabbatical? He really should have some human influence, and perhaps we can work out ways that I can actually touch you so the little bugger won't be disturbed overly much."
"HOWL!" Sophie exclaimed in a scandalized tone. "You are to REST."
"I will be," he replied airily. "Now, you go on up to bed, and I'll join you as soon as I have my missive to the King written and on its way." He raised her hand to his lips, saluting the ring on the fourth finger of her left hand as he said earnestly, "I swear."
"Oh, all right," Sophie replied gruffly, letting him know she meant business.
Howl gave her one of his dazzling smiles and trotted over to the workbench, cleaning it of the debris from his destroyed spells with a wave of his hand and drawing out pen, paper, and ink from one of its drawers. After he had arranged things to his satisfaction, he sat down and reached out for the quill pen… only to find that it had disappeared.
He looked over to his right and saw that Sophie had also ensconced herself at the workbench, having purloined his pen and two sheets of paper.
"And just what do you think you're doing?" he inquired mildly.
Sophie dipped the pen in the ink and began to write as she replied. "Helping you. I'm sending a missive to Lettie informing her of our current situation and enlisting her aid. She'll make sure Ben remembers how indebted he is to you, and if the King is tempted to give us any trouble, she'll be able to handle him. Probably even better than I can."
Howl regarded her with exasperated amusement and sighed in resignation. He made a gesture, and another quill appeared in his hand. "You know, I almost feel sorry for His Majesty."
"You shouldn't. He deserves it, taking advantage of you like that…"
"As though no one around here ever does the same," he retorted with a sideways glance, as he scribbled down the flowery words of court speech that would couch his quite rude demands in a bed of perfume that would make His Royal Majesty's head spin.
"If you've clandestinely married the King while you've been gone, I wish you would have sent me an invitation."
"Of course not. He's quite plain, you know. If I were to marry anyone, it would probably be Ben. I do seem to have a fondness for ginger hair."
"Oh, really. I don't value your hide if Lettie finds out."
"Me either. But it would be quite a scandal, don't you think?"
"You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Hmm.. perhaps. But not nearly so much as I 'like' a certain someone sitting near me." Howl reached out and tickled the end of Sophie's nose with his quill, making her sneeze.
"I wonder who that could be."
"Well, I can show her once we finish these letters."
"I'll be sure and take a while then."
"Hard-hearted woman!" Howl exclaimed dramatically.
The watcher from the hearth sighed in relief. If they were quarreling like that, everything was going to be all right. Calcifer was about to drift off when a familiar voice spoke on the edges of his consciousness.
"What are those two doing?" It was faint, but fully recognizable as that of his unexpected pupil.
"It's called either 'fighting' or 'foreplay', youngling. Better get used to it. They do it all the time."
Fin
Author's Note: All right, this wasn't the fic I was thinking of when I said I'd probably be raising the rating, but that's okay. I'd started this one a while back. Then I came home from work one day, and added a bit more. The next morning I woke up, and spent the rest of the day typing almost as if I was possessed, so I most willingly say it just wrote itself.
It has also been pointed out to me that if Morgan is so powerful, why doesn't he do any magic in "Castle in the Air"? My explanation is that Howl's neutralization spell can only be lifted (or made less restricting) by Howl himself, so it's still blocking Morgan's powers. It wouldn't have been convenient to lift it with the Castle still in the air, since who knows what a VERY displeased baby with magical powers would do in such a delicate situation (besides make things immeasurably worse). I mean, given his mother's penchant for not thinking and the fact his father has been known to produce green slime when upset... That's my explanation, anyway.
As always, much thanks must go to all of you, particularly those who have taken the time to leave a review!
(And yes, "Monday Afternoon Post" does need revising, which I'm working on now. Ultimate thanks goes to Amber for correcting the silly American, giving advice, and pointing me in the right direction to learn more about crucial differences between the US and the UK.)