Disclaimer: I don't own Howl's Moving Castle.

Concerning Dreams

Howl disconsolately pushed open the panelled door of the bakery, feeling quite sorry for himself. Having Madame Suliman after him could never be a good thing. She had been disconcertingly calm when Howl had told her that he wished to end his apprenticeship early. It almost as if she already plotting something in her unreadable, premeditating mind, which Howl didn't put past her.

She had been planning for him to replace her as the Royal Sorcerer – as if the threat of being employed as a lesser, but still decorous and endowing, position as one of the many Royal Magicians wouldn't be frighteningly respectful enough.

The long cavalcade of troops, tanks, and cavalry and was still processing grandly down the road. A fleet of grand, royal airships flew overhead in a triangular formation, proudly flying a pink and yellow banner between them with the royal emblem of a white shield with a black cross.

Howl ducked his head and quickly strode down the street, keeping behind the sea of enthusiastic crowds who were waving hats and pennons, being careful to avoid any of the soldiers who would be able to recognise his personable visage, though he doubted that those parading fools would be able to see past their noses while revelling in their glorious exultation and the admiring attention of the upholding multitudes.

Although he was eager to return to the castle, Howl couldn't resist stopping to flirt with the occasional pretty girl whom he fancied as future conquest, though giving them different names such as 'Sylvester Oak' to circumvent them from raising difficult questions, even though he knew he would be able to effortlessly slither out of them like how he always did. He so loved seeing them irrepressibly swoon after he gave them his most seductive smile. Charming girls came naturally to Howl, and it was a talent which he exploited to its full worth.

It was almost sunset when Howl finally left Market Chipping. Not only was he feeling cheerful enough to whistle, he was carrying fourteen hastily scribbled different names and contact details in his pocket and a much swollen ego; temporarily forgetting the unpleasant piece of hearsay which he unwittingly heard in Cesari's.

Howl hiked up the well-trodden path that lead back up the Folding Valley, ignoring the apprehensive watching eyes he could feel peeking from behind the curtains and shutters of the houses that were built on the outskirts of Market Chipping. None of the mundane, non-magical people trusted anyone who was from or going to the Wastes, due to the infamous, but partly true belief that the barren place was only inhabited by untrustworthy witches and wizards of questionable character and personality.

After all, almost every child had been told the same 'old-wives' tale' that if they didn't behave, the Wicked Witch of the Wastes or the Horrible Heart-Stealing Howl would come and take them away, never to been seen again.

'That was probably why she was so scared,' thought Howl, recalling that sweet faced brown-haired girl from the alleyways, bringing an dreamy smile to his face. 'She might have had thought that I would eat her heart.' Her face had seemed so terribly familiar, though Howl couldn't quite put his finger on exactly where or when had they met. She didn't look like any of the other girls he had previously flirted with in the past (though there had been so many that it was possible that Howl may have had forgotten a face) but she was undeniably pretty. If fact, she did look quite a bit like that girl from --

A loud screech abruptly broke Howl's train of thought. The castle creakily tramped into sight over the hill and pulled to grinding halt, collapsing onto the ground on its jointed, mechanical legs with another eruption of billowing, grey smoke from its pipes and crannies.

Howl walked around to the back of the inert castle and opened the wooden door.

"Master Howl!" He heard a small pattering of feet as Markl hopped down the staircase.

When Howl clambered up the steps, Markl expectantly handed him a frying pan and a plate of sausages. "Calcifer won't cook dinner," the boy reported with an annoyed look in the direction of the hearth.

"Hey, don't look at me," Calcifer said defensively. "Cooking dinner was not part of our contract."

Looking down at the plate of uncooked sausages that had been pushed roughly into his hands, Howl realised that he hadn't eaten anything for the whole day.

His empty stomach released a loud rumble.

"Starved yourself again?" remarked Calcifer, flickering in amusement.

"I was too busy," Howl walked over to Calcifer, holding the pan in an almost menacing manner.

"Absolutely not," disagreed the fire demon, moving to the back of the grate and holding up his arms in a defensive pose over his head. "I don't cook!"

Howl plopped the pan firmly over Calcifer's head with a small, unavailing struggle on the fire demon's behalf.

Howl purposefully slapped four sausages into the pan with Calcifer muttering inaudible curses of having been exploited twice in one day. Markl hungrily watched the frying sausages with an anticipating smile on his face, his brown-haired head peeking over the stone bench top.

"Plates, Markl."

"I don't think that we have any more clean plates," his apprentice replied, glancing towards the growing pile of dirty tableware, which had claimed dominion over the sink. Howl and Markl had both wordless agreed to leave them there until they'd be bothered to wash them on a fated, hypothetical day in the far future.

But what the pair whimsical hoped was that the dishes just might somehow wash themselves if left untouched over a long period of time, thus saving themselves the effort Even though that "effort" could easily be settled with a simple cleaning spell.

Howl conjured up two chipped, but clean plates with his unengaged left hand.

"Where did you get those from?" asked Calcifer accusingly.

Howl served the cooked sausages on the suspicious plates and carried them over to the table, where Markl was eagerly waiting with two spoons he had found under the clutter.

Howl cut two slices of bread from the loaf and handed one to Markl, who was already ravenously devouring his second sausage. Howl, on the other hand, picked genteelly at his plate and slowly nibbled, despite his hungry appetite.

By the time Howl had finally finished his plate, he had already given Markl his magic lesson (how to conjure up plates and cutlery if the need should ever arise in the near future, which Howl had a strong impression that it would), looked over and fulfilled the long list of spells and potions which the Porthaven customers had ordered, and as well as read – and memorized a few – of all the names and addresses which he had received from the infatuated girls from Market Chipping.

Markl had long since returned back to his room.

After squeezing his dirty plate into the slovenly sink, Howl returned to the chair beside Calcifer and sat down heavily.

"Long day, huh?" asked Calcifer perceptively, watching him from beneath his reduced, burnt logs.

Nodding, Howl voluntarily passed the fire demon a log from the stack of firewood beside the hearth, which Calcifer keenly reached for with his fiery arms. "Almost got caught by the Witch again today."

"Thought so," admitted Calcifer. "I felt something was happening." After all, being in possession of Howl's heart had created a connection of sorts between the two of them, whether wanted or not. "So what happened?" he asked, eagerly burning his new log.

Howl explained with explicit detail and unnecessary minutiae to the fire demon of what had happened – with a few spurious additions that were twisted to his liking – starting from the unexpected military parade to the eavesdropped conversation in the the bakery, pleased to have somebody who he could complain about his undeserving, misdirected misfortunes to.

"What an interesting day you had," Calcifer commented dryly, not believing half of what Howl had said.

Especially not the part where Howl had courageously saved a helpless brown-haired princess from an army of tens of thousands of ferocious, fire-breathing, black, gooey henchmen (whom had actually been resurrected from the dead with necromancer magic by the Witch of the Waste in another foiled attempt to steal Howl's heart). And then Howl had rescued her again from the tight clutches of two extremely powerful, leering, undead vampire soldiers who had tried to steal her soul by making her drink a potion that had taken over a century to brew. And finally parting with her after a romantic flight above the puffy white clouds, leaving the enamoured princess weeping and broken-hearted by the scarlet sun set.

"And by the way," Calcifer added idly. "Another one of the King's messengers came today. You'll have to report to the palace soon."

"Madame Suliman's after me." Howl groaned piteously.

"That's not surprising," crackled Calcifer relentlessly, burning another log which Howl had passed him after his lengthy, lugubrious, and mostly fictitious monologue, which did not receive the sympathy and awe that had been expected. "By the way you've been acting, I'm surprised that it took so long."

"They were talking about how she was playing a game with me. She might be planning to kill me, or, even worse," Howl dropped his voice to a low, fearful whisper. "She might force me to become the Royal Sorcerer."

"Well, imagine that," said Calcifer unsympathetically. "Disreputable Howl with a respectable job. It really can't be all that bad, you know. The worst that she could do to you is strip you of all your powers."

"Well that's a comfort," Howl snapped back sourly, slithering out of another one of Calcifer's tirades which undesirably reminded him of his irritable elder sister. "Out of the frying pan and into the fire, isn't it?"

Howl stood up. "Hot water in the bathroom, Calcifer."

"Again?" protested the fire demon indignantly. "You just had one this morning!"

"This morning, Calcifer," Howl rebutted, escalating up the wooden staircase with a wicked smile on his face. "Was several hours ago."

Howl entered the filthy bathroom and closed the door on the agitated complaints that had followed him up the stairs.

A fire demon could be a very convenient thing to keep. Especially if you were one who liked baths.

The small flames fluttered lightly in his small, childish hands. Or was that his heart fluttering?

His chest felt numb. It was strange; not having a heart. He didn't exactly expect this to happen. That book didn't say anything about giving away your heart.

"Are you sure that I'll be alright?" he questioned the fire demon in his hands.

"You'll be fine, kid." the fire demon replied, though not looking as assured as it sounded.

"I hope so," he replied to it, coughing up the burning sensation at the back of his throat.

"Hey, who's that girl over there?" The fire demon glanced across towards the other side of the lake.

'Howl! Calcifer!'

There was a girl in a blue dress standing on the other side of the bank. He couldn't see her face clearly, but she was shouting urgently at him, but he could only catch snatches of what she was saying.

The earth split underneath her and she fell slowly into the unfathomable depths of the black chasm.

"It's . . . know how . . . help you."

"Find me in the future!" she cried out to him before she completely vanished, swallowed up by the black hole in the ground that closed over her.

He bewilderedly glanced back down at Calcifer who shrugged back at him in turn.

"Who was she?" the fire demon asked for the both of them.

Howl looked back at the undisturbed expanse. There was no trace of what had happened. Or, more accurately, what he thought had just happened.

"She sounded familiar," he remarked absentmindedly, still looking at the unruffled grass.

Calcifer looked at him in disgust. "Familiar?" he stated scornfully. "Familiar? A girl disappears into a hole in the ground, and all that you can say is that she sounded familiar."

So it did happened. It wasn't just his imagination, influenced into implausible ideas by his new heartless condition.

"Hello Howl," drawled an chilly, mellifluous voice.

He looked up and the blood fled from his face. He could feel his terrified heart thumping wildly in his hands.

He tried to speak, but his voice could only come out as an elongated croak.

"What's wrong?" asked Calcifer worriedly, oblivious to the Witch standing before them. "I didn't think that giving your heart away this would affect you this much, kid."

But he could only stare, frozen to the spot with the wide, frightened eyes of a cornered deer.

"What's wrong?" persisted Calcifer, frowning anxiously. The fire demon twisted in his hands to look at whatever was causing the panic that was written over the boy's face.

'Calcifer can't see her.' he realised with horror. 'How can he not see her? She's right in front of us.'

"Did you miss me?" she asked, watching him with a hungry expression on her flawless, unblemished face.

He stood there, paralysed with fear, with every nerve in his body screaming at him to run.

"Where did she go?" he managed to force out of his unwilling jaws.

"Who? The girl? Oh, I took care of her," she dismissed with a calculating smile. "You didn't really think that I'd forgive you after that incident that happened yesterday, did you?"

Without warning, she lifted the folds of her voluminous fur coat and floated across the grassy field towards them at an alarming speed, and swept through him.

"Your heart shall soon belong to me."

He could feel the shocking coldness and magic coursing though his body, the anger and jealously that mingled with his blood and weaved in and out of his veins.

And, as quickly and unexpectedly as it had begun, it was gone. But something was just not quite right.

"And the best part about that curse," she added with a malicious glint in her eye. "Is that you can't tell anybody about it."

Howl flung his eyes open, his limbs flailing desperately in the cold water, splashing the water onto the tiled floor.

Panting and drenched, by both the cold bath water and sweat, Howl shook himself out of the remnants of the nightmare, squinting from the bright, morning sunlight that streamed through the latched bathroom window.

When Howl came out of the bathroom, he was sneezing and coughing and moaning pathetically. He felt terrible, but thankfully had not abandoned his daily grooming. Even in the most dire of circumstances, Howl could not forget his morning rituals in front of the mirror.

"You don't look so good," Calcifer remarked as Howl prostrated himself onto the red recliner.

Howl dramatically put the back of his hand against his forehead with an devastated moan and cough. "I feel awful."

Markl bounded down the stairs. He took one look at the repining man and his bright smile was instantly replaced by a worried frown. "Are you all right, Master Howl?" he asked anxiously.

"I am not alright!" Howl croaked back woefully, slightly lifting his head off the arm of the recliner to look at the boy. "My day is ruined! I can't go outside looking like this! One look at me and everyone would be running for their lives."

"Um . . . would you like breakfast?" Markl asked uneasily, not sure what to do with Howl when he was entertaining his theatrics.

But before Howl could return a scathing reply, there was an imposing knock on the door. All three pairs of eyes turned towards the door.

"Kingsbury door," said Calcifer indifferently. "Think it's another messenger."

Howl sneezed wretchedly. "Alas, they have no pity for a dying man on his death bed."

Calcifer exasperatedly rolled his eyes while Markl looked naively at the histrionical man.

"Are you dying?" he asked worriedly.

"No!" Calcifer snorted up the chimney. "He just caught a cold. Serves him right anyway. Knowing him, he's probably exaggerating. Go back to bed, Howl."

"None of my friends understand my pain," Howl sighed woundedly, "I would probably die here and none of you would care less."

The offended emissary pounded again on the ignored door again, this time much more impatiently. Markl pulled his cloak off the table from under a stack of books and various other implements and put it on, prepared to answer the door.

"I shall return to my room to recover from my afflicting ailment," Howl announced melodramatically. "Which could possibly kill me." Howl added as an afterthought. "Which would be a pity as I was so looking forward to finding that girl from yesterday again."

"You mean that princess you saved from the fire-breathing sludge?" Calcifer sceptically lifted a fiery eyebrow. "I thought you left her weeping and broken-hearted, didn't you?"

"Markl, tell them that I'm not home," Howl climbed back up the staircase and disappeared into the anarchy of his room, almost tripping over a childish gimmick which he had left lying on the floor. He collapsed into his bed and lied there under the dirty, unlaundered coverlets, feeling bored and apathetic. Not even a magically controlled puppet show, involving his two soft toys, could shake him out of his dull ennui. He could hear Markl opening the door downstairs and exchanging courteous, but pointless pleasantries in his old man's baritone with another unrecognisable, polite masculine voice.

Sometimes he wondered if his eight-year-old apprentice was more mature than he was. But that idea would immediately be dropped, mostly for the sake of his own fragile dignity.

As he weltered in his cheerless apathy, sneezing as quietly as he could as not to inform the ignorant diplomats that he was actually upstairs, Howl's mind wandered back towards yesterday; how he had meet that lovely girl from the alleys and chivalrously saved her from the pair of insolent soldiers.

With a dreamy smile etched on his face, he remembered her clutching desperately onto his blazer during their close escape from the Witch's henchmen: he could still feel her lingering impression on his arm. She was unlike any of the other girls which he had payed attention to. She hadn't blushed or swooned when he offered her his most charming smile and dexterously complimented her. It was a shame that the Witch had to ruin the rather piquant experience, rudely chasing them up and down the street – not giving Howl the chance to properly flirt with the beguiling girl – and completely ruining the romantic atmosphere.

He still didn't know where he had seen her from.

Howl's lips twitched as he recalled the henchmen piling on top of one another as they crashed in another unsuccessful attempt to capture him.

'The Witch must be infuriated,' Howl smirked, imagining her seething jealousy.

'She sounded a bit like that girl in my dream,' Howl thought absently, still brooding over the brunette from the alleys.

"Who? The girl? Oh, I took care of her,"

Then realisation hit him with a cold clarity, and the self-satisfied smile froze on his face.

A/N: Umm . . . this chapter wasn't very good either . . . I might re-write it again like my other previous ones if I start thinking that it really sucks again . . . I'm really really sorry. But at least I can say that I warned you all! XD (I got a bit carried away at a part of it . . . tell me if you think that it's better to delete the part where Howl starts making up what had happened that day). Some people who haven't watched the movie might not get some of this.

I don't think that the next chapter will be coming in quite a while, as school is starting again and the summer holidays are almost over, and I'm not sure just how busy Year 9 will be.

Anyway, thanks for reading . . . and a HUGE thanks to EVERYONE who reviewed. You're all really patient to be able to put up with my bad writing. )

And thanks to Elyssa (a.k.a Fruit-Sexual), and Amy (a.k.a. darkangel296), and Susie (a.k.a. Sophie Pendragon/Jasmine of the Forest) for editing, adding, offering ideas, and reading and re-reading my many MANY horrendous drafts, which even I can't start on the first sentence without cringing.

Just wondering, but what would happen to Calcifer if Howl had a heart attack?