Summary: The morning after Sophie is taken back to the castle by Howl, Markl and Calcifer try to comfort Sophie and they realize there is only one way to do so.
Rating for chapter: T
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4: Diminished
Sophie's first morning in the castle was the bleakest Markl had ever witnessed in his short life: the sight of her a stark contrast to the rainbows dancing outside the window and peachy warm glow of the sun. How the sweetest hyacinth bouquet had gone rancid and the lightest face dimmed to sinister darkness for her.
What had made Sophie think she wanted life to be interesting? The man had looked at her, laughing rather pityingly. "I only want to buy you a drink. Don't look so scared." Even then, he had called her a 'little grey mouse.' Would he have ensnared her here, now, if she had accepted his proposal on May Day?
A dashing specimen with fine delicate features, she had furtively admired. Her heart had fluttered and dizzied at the idea of him. That night in her dreams, her heart had soared for him. She'd dreamt of the elegant stranger taking her away from her lonely alcove at the hat shop. And, the Wizard had indeed, swept her away.
Sophie Hatter, eldest of three sisters should have known better. No good ever comes from whimsical fairy tales and dreams: the Wizard was proof of that. It was quite a misfortune to be born the eldest of three.
-x-
"Sophie, would you like something to eat?" The hedged voice pierced her cocoon of melancholy. She gave no response, frozen in an impenetrable silence before the hearth.
Markl, incapable of consoling Sophie, had waited patiently outside Howl's bedroom door, until she emerged shrouded in shadows from the room, wearing her crumpled grey frock from the previous day, her hair a tussled mass. He peered up into her swollen blood reddened eyes, gleaming with liquid sorrow. Markl's little heart splintered at the vision, and dared not question Sophie after that. He simply took Sophie by the hand, squeezed it hard sympathetically with his tubby fingers and led her down to stairs to sit by the fire, where she sat, mute, until high tea.
Calcifer and Markl exchanged fervent glances, panicking discretely as Sophie refused all food and beverages they offered. Markl wondered more than once if Sophie was breathing. While Calcifer scoured her vacuous mask for hints of what his self-absorbed friend might have perpetrated the night before.
Under their vigil, Sophie hung her head like a wilted flower bled of life before its time. Her cascade of hair gleamed like a golden orange stream and winked in spite of the wild mess of strands. The supple youth of her skin gone, washed out like a ragged old sheet. Faded brown glassy eyes stared unseeingly at the hearth: only an apparition of the feisty woman taking flight from the castle yesterday lingered.
"The rumours are true," Sophie finally rasped in a distant, aching voice, in a tone as numb as her weary limbs ached.
Markl, ecstatic the mute Sophie had murmured her first words replied eagerly, hoping to prolong her audible return to life. "What rumours, Sophie?" He chirped, bobbing enthusiastically, grinning ear to ear.
Sophie flinched, the act of drawing air stabbed and twisted into her chest. "Wizard Howl," her chest convulsed, her mouth expelled a hiss of odium: the Wizard's name. "He is heartless, his blood brittle ice in his veins." She continued to mouth soundlessly, but grief for Sophie possessed no voice to sing its sadness. Grief knew simply of overflowing tears that sprung to Sophie's eyes, that she squeezed shut, shamefully burying her face in her palms to hide the public emotional break.
Her shoulders bowed as a weeping willow. "I-I want to go –" Sophie's voice failed, her throat parched and wooden. The cruel— and undeniable memory— that Fanny, her stepmother, had effortlessly sold her off like one of the hats at her shop, left Sophie destitute in the wilderness of life, with no destination to return to, just a destiny to escape from. Where? She scoured frantically in the recesses of her mind. "…home." She pledged the words through quivering lips, vowing to create a home, somewhere, somehow for herself. "I want to go h-home."
Markl's smile upturned, further conversation suspended by Sophie's startling declaration. So innocent was the youth, it never dawned on him she was captive in his home. His doe eyes appealed to Calcifer's sharp transparent wavering ones.
"L-o-o-k Lady…" Forgetting whom he was addressing, Calcifer's drawl took on its customary snarky quality exclusively reserved for verbal duels with the uppity Wizard. "I mean, Sophie," his tenor sweetened and warmed to titanium melting temperatures. "I think you might be staying with us for a while. Maybe, this can be your new home?" Calcifer offered kindly, almost feeling his words. Ordinarily, he would have exchanged the word 'home' for 'pig pen', 'dump', 'spider-infested hovel' for the castle, but they wouldn't have had the same 'Come and live with us Umph!' to persuade Sophie to stay.
"Markl and I could use some company. That overdressed peacock is never around anyhow." Calcifer's smile filled with wavering fiery fangs, his lilt scarily gregarious. The spectacle of the girl, as petrified as a prehistoric grey boulder, vexed him more than he showed. He hadn't missed Sophie flinching, as if lashed by a whip, at the Wizard's name. What did you do last night, Howl? The fire demon questioned privately, troubled.
"I want to go home." Sophie persisted, her tone hard, unwavering. "You can't keep me here," she declared to the balled hands in her lap, her tears enduring, despite her battle to conquer them.
Calcifer's exhale fractured one of his logs with a crisp snap! Something about this girl cooled his scorching flames, set him afire on a gentler plain. The set of Sophie's ashen face told him unmistakably, just a single soul was capable, and would, confine her to the castle. "Sophie, Markl and me won't keep you here…except, someone might," Calcifer cautioned. "Isn't that right, Markl?" The flicker reigniting in Sophie's eyes struck the fire demon as well: that she might be his last chance to break the curse. However, not at the cost of her well-being, he admitted with absolute regret. Surprisingly, he was chartering the undiscovered sweet regions of his heart, because of Sophie.
"Well..." Markl recalled his Master's mandate of keeping Sophie, period. Yet for the life of him, he couldn't understand the logic of restraining a cleaning lady in the castle, especially if she didn't want the job, or to clean. Maybe the castle is too filthy, repellent, and scary with all the spiders, caked layers of slime growing on the walls…that's why Sophie is very upset and crying? He conjectured, scratching the back of his head wondering how to cheer Sophie up; ultimately, to convince her to stay. He kicked the dust from the stone floor to swirl around him in frustration. "What did you do to Master Howl anyway, Sophie?" He averted Calcifer's questions, not wanting to lie: and lying as his Master instructed, was bad. He pouted, dejected at the prospect of losing Sophie. It would have been lots of fun making a new friend, as he had a total of none.
Hence, the fire demon and young apprentice formed an unspoken pact to free Sophie. They hadn't contemplated as far as the Wizard's return to the castle. The heartrending vision of Sophie wounded— like a cornered defenceless creature— fuelled them with greater impetus than the fear, the repercussions, and risk of trying.
Markl milled around the castle, preoccupying himself practicing his spells while the castle scuttled over the Wastes towards Market Chipping. The exact opposite direction the Wizard directed him to travel. Calcifer slumbered, surreptitiously watching Sophie's immovable slumped body. The roasting heat of his tendrils blazed, licking his logs and illuminating the small living area with arcs of lilac and vermillion. However, Sophie's visage stayed tomblike, purple lids hooded her from the reality of her prison. "I'm dirty…stained. I'm unclean," was all she repeated despairingly, hauntingly. Eyes downcast, fixed on her splayed hands in her lap: an occasional salty droplet twinkling as it landed on them. She seemed repelled by her own skin, her own body: possibly, of herself.
Whether it was the trauma of being uprooted from her life or the imagined horrors of the night before that bound Sophie in the one position, from dusk until the pink sun sunk between the mossy hills of Wastes, she didn't stir until the square dial of the door squeaked.
Markl leapt from his chair, eyes peeled to the door, a clutter of parchments scattering to the floor; his noble courage to free Sophie hightailing to a kingdom far away. His spine from the lower back up to his neck rattled, his heart hammered mercilessly, watching for his Master's shiny black boot to appear through the door. Calcifer, dormant and alert, lay in an undulating flat wave over his logs, hopeful for the best of the worst.
The beautiful beast was home.
The castle was skirting Market Chipping.
It shouldn't have been.
AN: Hi everyone. Got this update up before Xmas!! YEAH! Sorry for the delay but I'm totally buggered from moving and work. Unfortunately no holidays during Xmas in Japan. T.T Thanks to everyone who took the time to review the last chapter and gave me the impetus to update before 2009. Thanks to the all the 'alerters' too. :) If you've read the book you might recognize some quotes from it in the first half of my chapter, that's written in a similar'ish voice as the book. Love to hear comments and ideas on how to improve, what's good or bad about the fic so far? Next chapter Sophie faces Howl for the first time after that night. Did he or didn't he??
Merry Christmas and HAPPY New Year everyone.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with Howl's Moving Castle but the plot to this story. Anything you might recognize belongs to D.W.J. or Studio Ghibli. Same goes for all chapters I write for this fic.