Yay! This is my second chapter. Thank you to Tairona for being my first reviewer, and a big help!

Sorry, this chapter won't have many characters from HMC in it, but I'll try really hard to include more in the upcoming chapters. Just bare with me for a bit.

The rest of Howl and Sophie's children are introduced by name, and some of the names are a bit odd, so you pronounce them:

Tomos – Thomas

Lowri – Laurie

Alis – Alice

Peder - Peter

You may already know how to say the names, but I know I would have some trouble, even though I tried to pick easy Welsh names (most of which are all consonants), so if you have questions about how to pronounce something, let me know.

Please read, review, and give constructive criticism (if you want, or I'll just settle for a review). 

CHAPTER TWO

"You poor thing! To think of your mother leaving you and your father," twittered Baroness Helga, her chubby cheeks giggling as she spoke. She put a pudgy hand on Meliora's shoulder and looked at her mournfully through her false lashes and heavy eye paint.

It was the afternoon, and for some reason that Meliora could not guess, many of their friends and acquaintances were at their manor. It was not as if her mother had died. But the manner of Evelia's departure bothered Meliora greatly. Why would she leave her family, her daughter, behind? There was something not right about it, of that much Meliora was certain.

"I do not think my mother left of her own volition, Baroness," Meliora began, but was interrupted as her father walked up and took his daughter's hand. Meliora pulled away. It was bad enough to have everyone they knew visiting them in their time of distress, but it was worse to have her father pretend that he actually cared.

"Oh, lord Lothiar, how dreadful to see you on such an occasion as this," Baroness Helga said mournfully.

"Thank you for your condolences, Baroness," Edmund replied sadly. Meliora didn't believe that he was upset.

"If there's anything that I can do for you, let me know at once," the lady gushed.

"Of course, Baroness."

"And to think, she died at the tender age of… how old was lady Evelia?" the baroness asked.

"But she didn't…" Meliora started, but stopped when her father cut in.

"Yes, it is a tragedy, and we will miss her very much," her father said solemnly.

"Mother didn't die! She disappeared! I heard you say so yourself, and the servants told me the same," Meliora said, wondering if her father had lost his wits.

Baroness Helga looked at Meliora, seemingly concerned for her mental health. Lord Lothiar cut in smoothly. "My daughter is very distressed by her mother's sudden parting. It will take time for her to accept it."

"Yes, of course," the baroness said, still unsure.

Meliora stared at the pair of them. What was wrong with them? The servants themselves had told her that morning that Evelia had vanished without a trace. Had they lied to her? No, she was sure they hadn't.

"I will see you at the funeral, I trust?" Lord Lothiar asked.

"Of course! I will be there to mourn the passing of such an accomplished lady, mother, and wife. To be so young and to die, it is nothing short of tragic," the baroness said sorrowfully.

Meliora wished she would go away so that she could interrogate her father. She ended up excusing him and herself and leading over to a corner.

"That was rude, Meliora. You know what I think of social gatherings and how they should be conducted. Most people don't observe the details, as I do, but that is not an excuse. One must be slightly distant, conversational, and…"

"Why would you tell everyone that mother is dead?" Meliora demanded angrily, her amber eyes flashing.

"You are a simpleton," her father snapped. "How would it look if she vanished? Like she ran off is what. I cannot have my reputation tarnished in such a way. To keep up one's reputation, one must…"

"You lied to everyone!" Meliora interrupted furiously.

"Would you rather they consider her a disgrace?" he asked.

"No! But to tell them such a falsehood… what about when Mother returns?"

"She will not return. No one who has done what she comes back, Meliora. You must know this," Edmund said condescendingly.

"I don't believe you," Meliora said, crossing her arms over her stomach.

"And I don't care. As of this morning my marriage was legally dissolved, and she was declared dead. You are half an orphan, and I am a widower."

"You can't just…"

"I can, and I have," he snapped, and then, quieter, "Go upstairs and change into a mourning gown; we must prepare for the funeral."

Trying not to scream in frustration, Meliora asked, "What about a body?"

"The casket will be closed. You could not bear to see your mother in her state of death," Edmund said calmly.

"How can you do such a thing? She will come back, and then you will be exposed as the liar you are!" Meliora whispered furiously.

"Dream all you like, daughter, but this is reality. I suggest you accept it, as I have," Edmund told her, "Do you think I like thinking that my wife has left me? No. But I will deal with what is real, and not fantasy." He walked off to greet someone or other who had just walked in the door.

Meliora walked up to her room to change as her father had commanded, numb from their conversation. Her world was being turned upside down, and nothing seemed to be able to stop it. She knew he father was less than caring, but this? She could not say that she expected him to be so… she didn't have a word for it.

Rummaging through her wardrobe unthinkingly, Meliora picked out a black dress trimmed with a bit of black lace and put it on. Walking over to her mirror, she peered at herself thoughtfully. She saw a young woman whose face was drawn with worry, and eyes that were too bright from shock. Nothing made sense at the moment.

On an impulse, Meliora made her way into her mother's bedroom and looked around. Everything was as it had been the day before, and no sign of a struggle was evident. "Mother, why did you leave me?" Meliora whispered into the silence of the room. She felt hot tears sliding down her cheeks. She wiped them away angrily. Her mother was not dead, just missing. Evelia wouldn't leave her daughter willfully… she wouldn't!

Walking slowly, she made her way to the window and looked out. The day was gray, reflecting the mood in the house. Something stung her hand as she rested in on the window sill. She looked down and, to her surprise, saw a small ball of what looked like pink sparks. It was dim, and had she not practically squashed it, she would never have noticed it.

"What in the world…?" Meliora picked it up carefully. The sparks whirled around in circles, and the ball felt a bit sharp and poked her when she was not careful. "What is it?" she whispered to herself.

Suddenly the spark ball exploded, Meliora ducked, and the sparks scattered light across the room, and sending sparks bouncing off the walls and ceiling. The light intensified steadily until Meliora was sure she would go blind, and then it all disappeared, save a small circular section in front of her. She looked at it carefully, ready to snap her eyes shut should the light become blinding again.

Out of the blob of light came… her mother's voice. "Meliora," it said softly, making the girl jump with surprise.

"Mother?" she murmured, rising from the ground and carefully moving toward it.

"My darling daughter, when you find this I shall be long gone. I cannot tell you why or where I am going, but know this: I love you and would never leave you willingly. I do not know if I will return. However, I think you need to know that I am a witch, and that you have magic running through your veins. Your father will not take this news well, and I don't think it would be a good idea to tell him any of this.

"Please understand that I don't want to do this, but that I have to. I won't be able to talk to you again… I don't know how long…" the voice seemed to be choking back tears. "I love you, Meliora." With that the face disappeared along with the light blob.

"Mother!" Meliora cried, reaching toward the spot the light had been. Lowering her head in sorrow, she saw a white pendant in the shape of a key attached to a long white chain. Picking it up carefully, Meliora studied it. It looked like the one in her mother's jewelry box. To make sure that it was, she crossed the room and opened the mahogany box. There was a key inside that was much smaller, about half the size of her pinky finger, and was silver, not white. Looking down at the necklace in her hands, Meliora was sure it was important, but for what she had not a clue.

"Meliora, come down; the funeral procession is beginning," her father called.

"Yes, Father," she returned, slipping the necklace over her head and hiding it under her gown. If her mother didn't want Edmund to know about her magic, it was doubtful that he should know about the pendant either.

As what her mother had said sunk in, Meliora felt as though she had just stumbled. Magic. Meliora had magic. Shaking her head, she couldn't help but be dubious about it. From what she had heard of it, Magic was flashy and surely would have shown up in her before now.

She heard her father calling to her again, and decided that whatever the case was, it would have to wait until she attended her mother's funeral. Meliora wondered if her mother would be there in disguise, but doubted it. However, if she, Meliora, was thought to be dead, she would want to go to her own funeral. It would be interesting, certainly.

"What took you so long? We are going to be late. Do you have any idea how that would look?" her father hissed at her as she descended the last of the long staircase.

"I have no idea, apparently," Meliora said sweetly.

"Don't take that tone with me," her father said in a low voice, conscious of the people around them.

Meliora turned away and walked out the door, quickly making her way to the carriage that was to carry them to the church and then to the cemetery. She didn't look up when her father got in next to her, or when the carriage began to roll away. Staring at her house that was receding in the distance, Meliora wondered what things would be like without her mother around. The thought made tears spring to her eyes. She wiped them away quickly; her father would make fun of her if he saw.

Evelia was the best mother anyone could have, in Meliora and several other people's opinion. Meliora loved the times they would play dress up when she was younger, make mud pies after it had rained, play outside when it was raining, but not a thunder storm, and talk about anything together. She trusted her mother completely and without hesitation, but her father… Meliora wouldn't trust him as far as she could throw the horse pulling the carriage. She couldn't trust him after what she knew he had done.

Looking over at her father, Meliora remembered the morning she had been woken up by yelling. It turned out that her father had wanted to divorce her mother because of another woman that he was seeing. Mother begged him not to do that to their daughter, and he said that she would not care. Meliora also remembered all the times he had returned from work to complain of the idiots he had to work with, and all the times he had done terrible things to other people. There had been two brothers whom he had pitted against each other, and laughed when their relationship got grew to hatred.

"What are you staring at?" Edmund asked grumpily.

Meliora ignored him and returned her gaze to the window. The reality of her situation was beginning to sink in, and she dreaded life without her mother. In a way she had died; she could no longer protect Meliora from her father.

No, that's not true, Meliora thought to herself, putting her hand over the key under her dress. It was as warm as her skin. She glanced back at her father and let a tear slide from an eye. He was no father. Fathers were supposed to protect their children, raise them, and fathers were kind.

The carriage pulled up to the church, and Meliora got out without waiting for the footman, not wanting to be around her father. Unfortunately he caught up with her and took her arm firmly. He gazed around the church exterior and began to criticize it, saying what should be changed about the walls, windows, yard, statues, fountains, the way the grass was cut.

"You see, if you cut it straight across it becomes stunned and won't grow properly. The correct way to trim grass is to…" he stopped as they entered the church. Meliora silently thanked the building for offering her refuge. Her father led her over to a bench at the front of the room where the Lower Court Chancellor stood wearing flashy robes and an uncaring expression.

"Dearly beloved of the departed, we are here to mourn the passing of an excellent mother, wife, and citizen of Ingary," the Lower Court Chancellor began in his deep, monotonous voice.

Meliora looked away to where the oak casket rested on a stand. It was, of course closed. She found that she was glad. She was afraid that she had simply imagined the message earlier and that her mother really had died. Of course, that was ridiculous.

"There is no way to ease the pain of parting with a loved one. We are only able to accept it when it comes, and to remember them as they would want to be remembered. Lady Evelia Lothiar was one of the most graceful and lovely people we knew," droned the Chancellor. Meliora doubted he had ever seen her mother even once.

Finding her thoughts wandering as the Chancellor went on… and on, and on… Meliora began to observe the others in the room. To her shock she saw Prince Alexander and his family. Even the King! Meliora was touched that they would attend, even if it was a fake funeral. She knew her mother had been a very distant cousin of the king, and despite being so distantly related, was very caring toward them.

Meliora started as she caught herself referring to her mother in the past tense. She corrected herself firmly and began to think about the time that her mother had taken her horseback riding and they had gotten completely lost. Both of them were directionally challenged. The thought made her smile.

"We must console the grieving family," the Chancellor said loudly. Meliora turned around quickly and found that he was glaring at her, as was her father. She realized that she must have seemed very uninterested, even to the point of rudeness, especially. She lowered her head and pretended to grieve, putting a hand over the key under her gown for reassurance that her mother was alive, and not in that horrible wooden coffin. When it was her time to die, Meliora wanted her casket to be decorated. Perhaps with flowers, fairies, elves, and other things that would suggest life. She would rather people think of her life than her death.

Silence fell over the room, and Meliora looked up. The Chancellor had stopped speaking and was crossing the room to the double doors that lead to the cemetery. Her father took her hand, and she pulled away. Then he took her elbow with an almost painful grip and led her out.

A somber song played as they made their way outside after the casket, the attendees, and the Chancellor. Others in the room filed out, their eyes respectfully downcast. Meliora closed her eyes and pretended that she was at home, in the garden, making her way to see her mother so that they could go riding, or visit a friend, anything.

The ceremony at the grave was shorter than Meliora thought it would be, and soon she found herself nodding as person after person filed past her and her father to give their condolences. The only people she paid attention to were the King, the Queen, the Prince, the Princess and her children, and, to her surprise, most of the Jenkins family. Mr. and Mrs. Jenkins were there, along with – she tried to remember their names – Bran, Lowri, Trystan, Peder, Alis, Tomos, and Eira Jenkins, who were all wonderful, which surprised Meliora a bit, considering all the rumors she had heard about Wizard Pendragon. She still didn't know why he called himself that even after everyone knew what his name was. Other than those few people and some genuine friends of her mother's, it was all uninterested and bored landowners. It took all of Meliora's self control not to run away, so she simply imagined herself far away from the church graveyard.

At her feet was a small purple flower. She didn't know what it was called. It looked so light, so… alive, and free. Meliora watched it sway in the gentle breeze, its tiny petals dancing. Once someone almost stepped on it, and she nearly scolded them for it, catching herself just in time.

"Poor dear, we feel so deeply for you," Baroness Helga said dramatically. She was the one who almost squashed the flower.

Looking up, Meliora was startled by the woman's appearance. She was, if possible, wearing more makeup than before, her cheeks and lips an unnatural red, and her hair was done up in an elaborate swan style. Standing at Baroness Helga's right was a young man a little older than Meliora, with white-blonde hair, gray eyes, and a gloomy looking face. Next to him was a younger girl, perhaps about fifteen, with the same hair color, and black eyes. Her gaze seemed to pierce through Meliora as she held the girl's gaze.

"Yes," Meliora began slowly, not knowing what one was supposed to say at such times, "Um, thank you for coming."

"We wouldn't dream of keeping away, would we, Evan?" The Baroness asked the young man.

The young man looked at Meliora without any interest, nodded, and then turned away. He seemed bored with the whole proceeding.

The girl gave a slight curtsy and said, "I am very sorry for your loss, lady Meliora," and stared at her with large, dark eyes.

Meliora returned the girl's curtsy and murmured her thanks.

"Rosalba was devastated to learn of your mother's death," Baroness Helga said, "for she has a very tender heart."

Looking at the younger girl, Meliora had trouble believing that. Rosalba was standing with a peculiar look on her face, as if she was reading Meliora like a book. The thought made her irritated, and she was glad when the baroness and her children moved on to her father.

Finally the line was finished, and Meliora was able to walk away unnoticed. She decided that she didn't want to attend the luncheon that her father had planned back at the manor. Instead she took a walk around the spacious grounds of the church, looking at several grave markers and wondering what the lives of the people had been like.

Hearing footsteps, Meliora looked up and saw Sophie Jenkins coming toward her. "How are you, dear?" she asked when she was close enough.

Meliora looked at her. She was really quite pretty, and had a friendly face.

Sophie wrinkled her nose and snorted, surprising Meliora. "What a stupid question to ask," she muttered to herself, a hand on her swollen belly and looking at Meliora with concern.

"I…" Meliora didn't know how she was doing. I won't be able to talk to you again … I don't know how long… The words ran through her head, and the full impact of them reached her. Until now she hadn't allowed herself to think about her mother not being with her, and it hurt. Tears began to fall silently down her cheeks, her breath catching in her throat. Meliora tried to wipe the drops away, but they came to fast. Opening her mouth to apologize for her behavior, the only thing that came out was a great, whooping breath that led the way for her sobs.

Without a word Sophie reached out and folded Meliora into a warm hug, letting her cry hard on her shoulder for a long time. When, finally, she ran out of tears, Meliora tried to apologize for getting Sophie's dress wet, but the older woman silenced her.

"Don't be silly. You need to cry, and I doubt you've had the chance, or that your father would let you." Sophie growled the last part, and then realized what she had said. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that."

"No," Meliora said, drying her eyes on a handkerchief that Mrs. Jenkins had given her, "you're right about him."

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"As am I," said a deeper voice. Both women looked up, startled, and saw Meliora's father standing a little ways off, watching them.

That's all for this chapter! Let me know what you think (even though this is one of the more boring ones, in my opinion, but it had to be done).

Tairona: I'm glad you liked the first chapter! And thank you for pointing out my mistakes. Also, I have found my copy of HMC, never fear! And as far as Morgan goes, he is a bit different than his father, but not that different. Lol.

Heather: I don't intend to let this story go, but it is nice to know that you want to read more. Thanks!

Fairy Eva: I completely agree that Howl's Moving Castle is wonderful! I'll try to update as frequently as I can.