Disclaimer: No owning of gorgeous wizards, sarcastic fire demons, or common others, to my great regret.
A/N: Again, too long between the updates! I apologize… But tell me how you like it. In which Howl has some serious angst issues, Sophie finds out some things about Howl, and…well…anything else would be spoiling it :) Enjoy.
Howl wheezed heavily as he flopped down on Sophie's bed. "That was most definitely not an enjoyable experience." He wasn't going to say that that was due in a large part to Sophie's incredibly jealous…friend? Ex-friend? Whatever he counted as.
"Tell me about it," she groaned before retreating into the bathroom for fifteen minutes. When she came back out, Howl was in his sleepclothes but had sacked out on her bed. She smiled and rolled her eyes. So typical. In a moment she realized that a) he was not waking up anytime soon, b) no way could she move him, and c) she was just as tired as he seemed to be. So she let him be and curled up on the opposite end, placing a mild spell to tell her if he woke up or deliberately moved.
A few hours later, Howl started dreaming. And a wizard's dreams are never meaningless. He was standing in a crowd, one of the few who were silent while the rest were yelling and waving things. A girl had been accused and proven of practicing witchcraft and she was about to die. He watched through blue glass eyes, eyes like marble, cold and unfeeling. He felt nothing. No remorse, no grief, no protesting voice inside of him.
Then the scene zoomed out and refocused in, on a window across the square from where the girl was dying. He was tied down, both physically and magically, in an abandoned attic, with the Witch of the Waste cackling delightedly in his mind. He couldn't break them! Not the spells, not the chains, nothing he could do could save her. He was too late…too slow… Why had he done what he had? And why did he see himself standing silent in the crowd down in the square, his face blank of emotion? He screamed her name.
"Howl?"
His dark-lashed eyes opened wide to meet concerned gray ones. "Sophie!" He lurched forward and nearly crushed her in an embrace. "It was all my fault, all my fault… I'm so sorry," he gasped, shuddering.
Sophie wondered at his change in emotion and tentatively gave him a squeeze back. "It's all right, I'm right here. Just calm down, everything's okay." She tried to pacify him and his shaking gradually slowed under her touch. His breathing evened out again and his shudders ceased. He collapsed against her, back in a dead sleep again. "Oof! Jeez, Howl." He didn't stir. With some effort, she laid him back down on her bed and covered him with the quilt.
She flopped backwards as well, exhaling softly. Thank goodness she had a snow day today—she was exhausted from last night's events, both physically and mentally. The snow must have started falling thicker through the night. Besides, now she and Howl could come up with a way to keep Sophie alive and somehow defeat the Witch of the Waste…in a minute she's get up…but she was so…tired….
Howl awoke around eleven o'clock in the morning to see Sophie peacefully asleep next to him. His eyes took in the sleep-softened lines of her face; the way her long waves of hair pooled on the pillow; the way her mouth characteristically indented into a small frown a she slept. What was he going to do about her? So beautiful, yet almost cold. Like his heart. But he knew that Sophie wasn't unfeeling. She was a very sensitive person, even without her magic. And if he had his heart, he could truthfully say that he was in love with the girl lying by him. But he didn't. So he couldn't. And it didn't look promising in the respect that she might come after him first. Speaking of which…where was the Witch of the Waste? She had to make her move soon, and it was only making Howl more anxious. A few more days and she'd be cutting it awfully close. The closer the time, the more public and horrible the death.
Although, technically, the Witch hadn't been the one killing Sophie before. That was just what he'd told Sophie. He ended up responsible all the time. But his dream had confused him. Why were there two of him? And why was the cold, indifferent one the one visible to the world, to Sophie as she died because of him? He had seen—and never wished to again—the expression on her face as she found his glass-marble eyes and lack of concern. For what may have been the millionth time, he wished he could really remember what had happened that day.
It was Wednesday morning. And her birthday was the coming Saturday. Three days. He shifted carefully closer to Sophie so he could see her better and, although unbeknownst to him, his blue eyes lost a little of their glasslike focus and deepened ever so slightly. He lifted one of her small hands gently and felt her pulse. He wished he had some kind of proof that he was alive. He didn't pretend to understand the finer points of how he continued to live without a heartbeat.
Sophie's eyes eased open slowly and she noticed the soft pressure on her wrist. "Howl?" she muttered sleepily, covering a yawn. "What are you doing?" she woke up more. Wow, she had slept long.
He smiled secretively. "Nothing." He released her slowly. "You have a pulse." He realized it might be a good idea to try to give her a hint to the contract between him and Calcifer.
"You act like I'm so miraculous. Of course I do."
He kept smiling. Sophie didn't get it, but something was bothering her. She suddenly seized a hold of his hand and pressed her fingers to his wrist. She was expecting a beat to come eventually. It didn't. She cocked her head to the side in confusion and moved her fingers slightly. Still nothing. She looked up at him with wide eyes. He kept smiling.
"I'm going to guess you can't talk about it." When he was silent she really started thinking, a little deterred by her drowsiness.
What had Howl tried to say before? Calcifer had…something. And he kept it with him all the time. What could a fire demon be holding every minute of every day? She felt like she was missing something incredibly obvious and huge…so like her to do that! "Rrrrgh!" she expressed her frustration. It was like trying to remember a dream that she knew was important but couldn't quite grasp…it was right…there… She reached for it with her magic. Her head started to hurt and she sighed, breaking off her improvised spell. "What can't I think of?"Howl was obviously disappointed. He had really thought she was going to come out with it. "It's all right, for now. Just think on it."
She made a vague noise that suggested she was annoyed with herself. It seemed like everyone around here had memory problems. Maybe all magic people were certifiably insane as well.
"'If thou beest born to strange sights, things impossible to see…'" Howl murmured in cadence, apparently picking up on her thoughts.
"Hm?"
"An old curse. Mine, actually. The Witch set it on me, last time. You saved me from it once it came true."
"Is that part about being a wizard?"
"Yeah. I was born in this world but something wasn't quite right, like, for example, seeing strange things. Like hallucinations, only I saw people's auras, sensed their intentions…even accidentally picked up on their thoughts. I thought I was going crazy by the time I was about eight, then Mrs. Penstemmon found me."
"Your teacher?" At this Howl nodded. "What did you do in…wherever you were born. Where was it? Did you have any siblings? How—"
"You ask a lot of questions," Howl said, faking crossness.
She grinned impudently. "I like knowing things."
"Fine. I lived in Wales and have a sister."
"You're such a guy—"
"Well, hopefully—"
"—you hardly answer the question."
He sighed theatrically, flopping back on the bed and throwing an arm over his eyes. "I shall never escape your torments."
"Get used to it. I'm sticking around for a while," she said grimly, hoping it was true.
"My sister's name is Megan. She likes to yell at me. She's married to Gareth and they have two children, Mari and Neil. The end."
"Likes to yell at you? I can't imagine why."
He grunted moodily. Sophie rolled her eyes and snickered. After a moment of silently laughing at each other, knowing perfectly well that the other was doing it, Sophie paused and made a face. "What's that?"
Howl's head snapped up and he immediately jumped up with a yelp, throwing himself at Sophie and pinning her to the ground protectively. A tiny box smashed through one of her windowpanes, whistling through the air. It wouldn't have looked like much except that in a second it caused a minor explosion, blowing papers everywhere and knocking the wind out of Howl and Sophie, on the ground. Things slowly settled to the ground. The box was gone and a single slip on red paper was left drifting to the floor slowly.
Panting, Howl stood. "Wind bomb," he wheezed.
Sophie coughed and gasped for air. "Right."
"Oh, and scorch marks. Lovely."
Sophie looked and saw that the second the paper came into contact with Howl's hand it disintegrated and left some lines and shapes seared into her floor in what looked like the ashes of glowing coals.
Howl peered at the markings. "You who swa— never mind. Bad idea. Can you try to read them?" he asked Sophie imploringly.
"This should be interesting." She bent down, her head too close to Howl's for total comfort. "Okay, so there's a person…a man, I guess. Is that a shooting star above him? And that there looks like a heart next to him. All right. He had a heart attack and set off some fireworks." Howl made a face. "No? Are you sure? Kidding, Howl, kidding." The wizard slapped himself on the forehead and was eyeing the wall like he wanted to try that out for size too. "So…he lost his heart and it turned into a shooting star?" She looked at Howl, who tilted his head to the side in a 'sort-of' kind of gesture. "He wished on a shooting star for love. No? He gave his heart…" Howl had that look on his face that people will give you behind someone else's back, when they can't tell you anything but they're trying to convey something and you're just on the edge of getting it. "…Because of the meteor shower." Howl looked depressed, then brightened at the last two words. "Meteor shower? Falling stars? He gave his heart…to…a falling star." She made a face. That didn't make any sense at all.
But Howl actually started jumping up and down excitedly. He was still unable to speak so he began waving his arms wildly.
"We…us…me…you…you? You gave your heart to the falling star?" She suddenly grasped what she had overlooked, like a fogged window clearing, and she gasped. "Calcifer!" she nearly shrieked.
Howl let out a laugh of triumph and crushed her in his arms, kissing her soundly before practically waltzing around the room.
"Dammit, would you stop doing that?" Sophie muttered, telling herself that she didn't enjoy it in the least. Lies are quite interesting things.
"YOUDIDITYOUDIDITYOUDIDIT—" Howl was acting like a kid, laughing like a madman, apparently having regained his vocal abilities.
Sophie rolled her eyes and then concentrated hard. Calcifer…
"What do you want—what in the name of all that's holy is Howl doing?"
"I guessed the curse thing, apparently that's some kind of big de—"
"You guessed it?!" The demon cut her off.
"Of course, now what does that mean?""Well, now you have to figure out how to break it, see, and get Howl's heart back to him in the process, hopefully keeping us both alive."
"So no pressure."
"Did I mention you have until your birthday and probably not even until then?"
"You mean until the sadistic homicidal tub of lard that's out to get me makes an appearance?"
Calcifer crackled fiercely with laughter, sending up purple sparks. "Vicious words from such a pretty girl. But yeah. That's pretty much the deal."
Sophie couldn't help the little spots of pink that crept up her face. Even coming from a demon, she wasn't used to being complimented so.
"Gotta run. The Witch's demon is trying to get through our defenses here."
"Wait—the Witch has one too?"
"Yeah, ask Howl—he can talk about that. Later." And his presence flitted off into nothingness, leaving a lingering trace of warmth.
Sophie turned to Howl. "The Witch has a fire demon too?" She knew he'd been listening in but didn't catch the vaguely dreamy look that he got on his face when Calcifer called her pretty and she blushed.
"Er…yes. A female." He fidgeted uncomfortably.
She fixed him with a calculating eye and perceived the source of his discomfort. "Don't tell me you tried to pursue the demon."
He stammered a few awkward excuses before collecting himself. Only Sophie could make him so uncomfortable like this, and she knew it, too. "She's quite beautiful when she's in human form," he stated plaintively. Not that anyone, supernatural or not, could surpass Sophie in his eyes in that particular area of focus. Any given quality, actually. She was like an angel; no, she was an angel. His angel. His reason. His salvation.
She gave him an impressive eyeroll. "Uhhhh-huh."
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The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully, excluding a freak accident involving a toaster, a box of matches, a rather large and sharp kitchen knife, and Howl's unfailing ineptitude with modern inventions. Let us just say that we now know the following things: one, contrary to Howl's initial impressions, toasters do not need to be lit in order to work. Two, said toasters are not to be mistaken for knife racks. Three, Sophie had quite the impressive scream when sharp objects were flying through the air. Four, Howl's one useful skill was repairing certain holes in certain walls from certain incidents.
Thursday was much the same as Monday and Tuesday had been, although the staring in school had died down considerably by now. She was, in contrast, a little less oblivious to the significant looks the boys seemed to give her, though. And she was enjoying it all! She discovered that she actually like to be acknowledged; for people to know her name and her as an individual. She was no longer just Martha's sister, or Lettie's, or the unknown firstborn child, or the unremarkable and nondescript one. She felt…what was the right word…special. She didn't need to be the proverbial blond cheerleader that went through five boyfriends and ten hookups per week to be popular. There was a difference between popular and popular. She found herself to be liked by people and for them to actually enjoy her presence. She didn't need exotic beauty or dramatic gossip or anything superficial at all. She could be more than happy with her laughter, the company of her friends, and more constructive ways to occupy her time than shuffling along and hiding behind her hair. She delighted in it.
And Howl watched her. She didn't realize it, but he was observing her more closely than he had before. She was…happy. Content with finding herself and knowing what she wanted. Well, maybe nothing big-picture, but maybe the beginnings of securing herself a place. She was more fantastic than she knew. He had known that forever, but he liked seeing her embrace it as well, at last. But the feeling was bittersweet.
Once they were back at Sophie's house after school, Howl stated absently that he'd be back in a bit. Sophie warned him to be careful and he agreed distractedly, already setting the basis for a strong protection spell around the area. When he was satisfied with his work he changed to his winged form, still invisible, and flew back toward the high school, specifically the woods where he had first formally met her.
Not much had changed. Snow still blanketed the ground, although there was much more of it due to the storm two nights ago.
Do you usually keep this kind of company?His first words to her. Also her first ever words to him, the very first time.
Sophie. Wait.
He landed silently on a snow-covered branch and crouched, absorbed in thought. He always ended up attempting to hold her back. To make her wait. That never worked very well.
I'm so sorry if I don't remember you somehow…
She had been so confused. She thought she was supposed to know him. But she didn't. Maybe it would have been better, that way. But that was crazy—leave her to fend for herself against the Witch of the Waste?
But I know who you are.
Then again… He knew her, more than she thought. Maybe if he had never showed up…ever…she wouldn't be put through this grief all the time. If he just disappeared…
Can you trust me?Of course she couldn't trust him. She learned that the hard way—Howl nearly choked on his thoughts—every time.
How can I trust you?She couldn't ever risk it. Howl knew that. And then and there, he had a revelation.
Please?He couldn't change what he was. He had to go away and never come back. It was better…safer…and Sophie would be all right. She could handle herself well enough by now, and the Witch's obsession had been all about tearing them apart, right? So if he just let her alone to continue her life in happy bliss… There was his answer.
He couldn't help himself—he had to go back to her once more, if only to check the protection spells around her. He wanted to see her face. He silently took to the air yet again.
A/N: Oh no! Angst…confusion…love? You never know. But—Sophie guessed the curse! And Howl kissed her again ^^ if only in brevity. After a magical bomb flies in the window, naturally. But how's Sophie feeling about all this? And, excuse me, what exactly is going on with the Witch and Justin this whole time! Don't worry, don't worry, it's all coming. Feel free to speculate and share by commenting :)