Fifteen minutes later, her sister diligently fanning her face, the two girls decided it would be best not to tell Howl about her collapse. Sophie knew he would delay the wedding for hours in worrying over her, and Lettie simply found the idea of delaying the wedding too horrifying for words.
"You need to relax, Sophie," she said soothingly above her. "In a few weeks' time, you'll forget you were ever so nervous about … well, that sort of thing."
Sophie, torn between the seemingly equal possibilities that she was either in for a great deal of pleasure or the crashing down of the moral character she had built up all her life, didn't want to talk about it. She thought about other things – the flowers, the cake, how handsome Howl would look in clothing, the weather – anything but that – as Lettie carefully rescued her hair and face.
"You look as wonderful as ever," she declared finally, "If a bit pale."
By then it was nearly a quarter hour to the start of the wedding. Lettie took her gloved hand in her own, patting it soothingly, as if afraid Sophie might faint again while she was gone.
"I'll be back for you soon," she said with a fragile smile. "You just wait here."
As the door shut behind her sister, Sophie sat down carefully on the bed, smoothing out the wrinkles in the front of her dress. She was overreacting, she knew. This happened to every bride on their wedding day. It had happened to her grandmother and her mother and would one day happen to Lettie, so why was she so worried?
And anyway, she thought despite herself, if that dream is at all comparable to reality …
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Lettie came to fetch her in a few minutes' time, as promised. Though at the time she seemed to move through each new moment slowly, as if in a dream, Sophie, thinking back on it, realized that it had all gone rather fast. She was led through the house, startled for a moment at the absence of Calcifer, and then out into the pure open air of the field outside.
Every flower seemed to be in full bloom, spilling over the hills in rivers of color. It was Howl's doing, she knew. As she approached the crest of the first hill, she saw before her the entire wedding party assembled, as well as all of their guests. They were small from a distance, but Sophie could clearly make out Howl, dressed in loose but somehow elegant tunic in shades of white patterned with soft blue.
He was staring straight at her, smiling, from the look of things, and Markl stood looking very prim next to him in his little suit. Sophie saw a pile of birch branches among the few rows of guests, burning a lovely shade of autumn orange.
But that wasn't what Sophie noticed most of all.
Lettie laughed girlishly beside her, squeezing her gently on the arm. Although Sophie wanted to pretend very much that the day was perfect, she couldn't quell the flicker of annoyance that blossomed in her chest.
"That fool," she muttered, sighing shortly and rolling her eyes up toward the soft blue that perfectly matched the shade of her husband-to-be's clothing. Her sister only laughed harder, pulling her toward the white archway so as not to be conspicuous.
"It looks like he spent as much time getting ready as we did," she chuckled. "Are you sure you can keep the girls off him, Sophie? Your marriage will be exhausting."
But the silver-haired girl only narrowed her eyes briefly at her fiancée, who seemed unable to notice from a distance and beamed brilliantly at her. He watched her with so much adoration that Sophie had nearly forgiven him by the time she'd made her way cautiously down the isle, cheeks pink.
At least, she'd forgotten until she saw him up close.
"For the love of God, Howl," she hissed in a whisper as he took her gloved hand in his own, still smiling for all the world. "This is our wedding day. You look like you're off to eat some poor girl's heart again."
"Are you sure I'm not just looking forward to yours?" he teased, raising a playful eyebrow at her as they approached the white arch under which they would take their vows.
"I prefer your natural color," she snapped, rushing. There were only a few steps left to continue this conversation, and she was suddenly worried their whispered bickering might be overheard – though a moment later she realized that anyone watching would think they were sweet nothings.
"I wanted to look the way I did on the day we met," he replied simply, and then they stopped in front of the archway, where the preacher cracked open his book and began his speech of welcome.
"You succeeded," she hissed back, torn between the sweetness of his excuse and the knowledge of being wed to a vain blonde.
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After the ceremony, the guests sat and lay lounging about in the field of flowers, resting on various chairs and blankets salvaged from the castle. Sophie was reclining quite comfortably against Howl's chest, sipping a peach-flavored drink and smiling as he slipped a hand around her waist, pressing it firmly against the warm silk draping her stomach.
"Are you happy?" he whispered, and Sophie replied with sweet, guttural noise that was a combination between a gentle sigh and a kitten's purr. She took another sip of her drink, curling her legs nearer to her body.
"Good," he said. She had long forgiven him for the hair.
In the distance, Sophie noticed Markl sitting grimly on his blanket, Heen collapsed next to him. Lettie was standing over him, talking animatedly and from time to time ruffling his hair, to which the little boy scowled darkly.
"He's going to hate us, Howl," Sophie said, her voice uncharacteristically sulky. "Do you think we made a mistake, sending him away from the castle so we might have it to ourselves for awhile?"
"Oh, he'll be fine," Howl replied easily. "He'll feel differently once he realizes that Lettie works in a cake shop. He'll come back to us bigger than the Witch of the Waste."
Sophie laughed, turning her head into his chest to stifle it from the guests around them, then settling her cheek against his tunic with a giddy sigh. Her cheeks were flushed despite the warm breeze, and she felt outside of herself, numb with a joy she'd never known.
"Howl," she whispered. "Howl, is this really just juice, or did you do something to it?"
"Nothing you don't seem to like," he answered wickedly, to which Sophie helplessly slapped his arm.
"Such trickery," she muttered, but soon forgot her anger upon realizing that her husband's shirt smelled like warm, cinnamon cupcakes.
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"I hate you," Markl muttered darkly, sniffling in the doorway. His suitcase was next to him, and next to that, Heen, who wheezed indifferently, probably glad for the change of scenery.
"Oh Markl," Sophie said, pulling him against her skirts in an embrace to which Markl remained stiff and impassive, "You're going to have so much fun with Lettie. Just think, you can bake cookies every day!"
"I don't want cookies!" he spat, startlingly childish. "I want to live with you and Howl!"
"You do, my love," Sophie said soothingly, kneeling down to look him in the eyes. "This is only for a little while. Just a few weeks. And you're going to visit on Sunday – won't you give poor Lettie a chance?"
Markl looked at her moodily, miserable but defeated.
"Good boy," she said, ruffling his hair gently. "Howl and I will see you soon."
"It isn't fair," Markl muttered to himself, looking up suddenly and giving Calcifer a look of absolute disgust. "Calcifer gets to stay, and he bothers Howl all the time! I'd be good! I'd stay in my room and go outside to play with Heen."
He sniffled again, and Sophie sighed gently, wringing her hands.
"Don't worry, Markl," she said, running out of comforting words. "You'll be home in no time. And in the meantime, you and Lettie can bake together and go all around Market Chipping."
"I hate Market Chipping," he mumbled, but grumpily let himself be embraced before Lettie, smiling warmly, took him by the hand at the bottom of the stairwell.
"Enjoy your honeymoon!" she exclaimed, giving Sophie especially a wry look of amusement. "Don't worry about the little one, here. We'll have lots of fun in the kitchen. Won't we, little Markl?"
"I'm not little," he spat to the floor. Howl and Sophie both stood in the doorway, waving as they made their way down the hill toward the cart Lettie had hired to ride her back into town, their silhouettes black against the falling sunset.
"Well," he said as they disappeared over the hill's crest, hugging her shoulders tightly for a moment, "I'm off to change out of these clothes. I'll be down in a moment, all right?"
"Okay," Sophie answered in a warm, tired sigh, turning to him and smiling obediently as he bent down to kiss her tenderly on her lips.
She followed him as far as the kitchen, then watched as he disappeared up the stairs. She sat down heavily in a chair near the fire, stretching her arms above her head and breathing in deeply, letting all her happiness settle deep within her bones.
"Sophie," Calcifer crackled softly, burning low on his log. "Psst – Sophie!"
Sophie smiled at him, busily unpinning her hair and shaking it out, letting the layers of shimmering silver fall loosely over her shoulders.
"I have a wedding present for you," he declared, his flames shooting up dark and proud.
"Oh, is that so?" Sophie asked playfully, kicking off her white heels. "Do show it to me."
"I believe you'll find this invaluable to married life," he said in a sly whisper, and then Sophie, sensing the scandal inherent in his voice, leaned forward over the hearth, too happy to be wary.
"What?" she whispered, grinning, her chocolate eyes glowing in the firelight.
"As recipient of this gift," he cackled smugly, "You may, at any time, require me to refuse Howl his precious hot water."
Sophie raised a white gloved hand to her lips, laughing in spite of herself.
"Will you run it cold in the middle of a bath?" she asked, glancing back up the stairs worriedly, knowing that Howl would be running down any moment to rejoin himself with her.
"Cold as ice," he assured her, crackling a wicked little laugh.
"So much better than the waffle griddle I'd been hoping for," she smiled, still giggling even as she heard Howl's quick footsteps on the stairs. He descended wearing his favorite everyday outfit, a loose white tunic tucked into slim black pants, and frowned at the sight of his wife, still in her wedding dress, laughing into her hand, Calcifer burning low in the grate with narrowed, malicious eyes glowing like coals.
"And just what is so funny?" he asked, placing a hand on his hip.
"Sophie and I were just planning out your happily ever after, Howl," he crackled nastily, and Sophie, unable to stop herself, snorted through another fit of laughter, her eyes tearing.
"You've had too much to drink, love," he said, walking toward her, all the while giving Calcifer a hard glare.
"What?" he asked, throwing sparks all about his ashes. "I'm not the one who tricked Sophie into those drinks. But look at her, she's so happy. I think she's delirious."
When Howl bent down beside her, Sophie grabbed his arm, leaning toward him clumsily.
"Howl," she whispered urgently, "Howl – Calcifer's been saying naughty things about you!"
She burst into another wave of laughter, then yelped as Howl lifted her off the chair in his arms, smiling a little as she immediately collapsed against him, nuzzling her face into his throat.
"Be good, Calcifer," he said over his shoulder as he climbed the stairs.
"Good night to you, too," he replied, settling into the ambers and watching his former master's retreating back with a mischievous smirk.
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I hope you all enjoyed the wedding. ;
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, your words have absolutely inspired me to go on! And of course, thank you to Juu, my number one fan and muse, for helping me come up with some juicy ideas for later!
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