A/N: The rating has gone up to M.

Chapter 8: In which Howl does something he forgets immediately

Sophie was sitting in her sunny morning room eating toast and drinking tea as she had become accustomed to do when Howl barged into the room, Fiona hot on his heels.

"Howl!" Sophie cried out in surprise, her treacherous heart leaping at the sight of him. He was impeccably dressed, his fair hair elegantly coiffed, his bright eyes glistening with intent, his scent overpowering her. She was so glad to see him she could have cried.

"I tried to stop 'em, ma'am, but 'e barged in straight away. Shall I 'ave Quincy escort him out?" Fiona asked.

"Why would I want him to leave?" Sophie shot Fiona a puzzled look. She didn't notice the anger that seemed to be emanating off Howl like a cloud of smoke, which understandably had concerned the harried maid. "That will be all, Fiona. You may leave."

"But—" Fiona began, but Sophie cut her off.

"That will be all," Sophie said more forcefully. Realizing there was nothing more she could do or say, Fiona gave a small curtsey and left the room, but not before shooting Howl a dark look.

As soon as the maid left Sophie ran into Howl's arms, but he pushed her away, holding her back from his full embrace to stare down at her guardedly. "You certainly seem to be eager to see me, but I don't understand you, Sophie. Were you trying to make a fool of me behind my back? While I was trying to keep this godforsaken country from going to war—which I failed at miserably, by the way, although I'm sure you've already heard."

In her eagerness to see him, it took her a moment to realize why Howl was less than enthused to see her. Backing away from him, and looking down guiltily with her hands clasped behind her back, she began at once to explain herself. "Martha told me that Michael told you what happened, and I feel entirely ashamed for my pettiness…It's entirely true that I wanted to make you jealous, but it's only because I was so sure that you'd forgotten about me…"

Howl could not believe his ears. He had wanted to believe that once he finally saw Sophie, she would tell him that it was all a horrible misunderstanding and that she hadn't really become involved with the Prince, and yet here she was admitting to it! He felt his heart squeeze agonizingly, and for the first time since he had had it returned, he wished that he had simply allowed Witch of the Waste's demon to kill him, so that he wouldn't have to endure the pain of having it broken.

"It seems as though the Witch's curse has come finally come true. 'Though she were true when you met her…yet she will be false.' I foolishly believed that you were a woman true and fair. My one and true love. I wanted to marry you, and yet this is how you betray me?"

Feeling almost hysterical with regret, Sophie began to plead for understanding. "I didn't mean to! It just happened. I had everyone tell me what a blackguard you were, and how much better I could do. My mother, my sister, your sister even! Did you know that I went to see her just to try to smooth things over between you two? And she warned me that you would break my heart! And then there was Prince Justin, who was here. With me. He wasn't off gallivanting all over the world trying to make a name for himself! He wasn't so busy with the courtiers in Strangia that he couldn't even deign to write to me—"

"I wrote to you!"

"Yes, at first!" Sophie conceded. "But I know how you really are. You got bored. You moved on from me to the next, like you always have. First it was Lettie, then me, now who knows! You haven't changed one bit from the rake that I met when I first moved into your castle."

With an expression of wounded dignity, Howl replied, "If you really believe that of me, then I am sure you won't object to me calling the wedding off. Now give me back the ring!"

Sophie's eyes widened in surprise, then guilt. "I don't have it..."

"What do you mean you don't have it?" Howl asked incredulously.

"I lost it."

Howl hadn't thought that he could be more surprised than he already had been when Sophie admitted her infidelity. But he was wrong. Not only had she dishonored their betrothal, but she had disposed of the ring as easily as if it were a cheap trinket one received from a gumball machine. If her guilty countenance weren't enough to prove to him that Sophie had utterly and completely betrayed him, the lack of the ring was a final and crushing blow. Howl did not think that he could even look at her anymore.

His entire expression changed. Whereas before he seemed angry, now he looked completely crestfallen. His shoulders drooped, and his eyes went glassy and far away. In that moment Sophie knew that she had made a mistake. All of the doubts that she had about Howl, the so-called reasons for her dalliance with the prince, were nothing more than excuses, and she realized how deeply she had hurt Howl. She wanted to run up to him, wrap her arms around him, and beg for his forgiveness, but the distant way he was behaving, and the fact that he couldn't even bear to look at her in the eye, kept her rooted to the spot with guilt and shame.

Finally, after what felt like long hours of silence between them, Howl said, "Well, I guess there's nothing more to say." He shot her one final wounded look, but when he turned around to leave without another word, she grasped a fluttering sleeve in desperation.

"Wait!" she cried. "Just let me explain!" But Howl shrugged her off and tore away.

When she heard the front door slam closed, she broke down into bitter sobbing. She felt as if the world had collapsed on top of her, making her bones heavy with grief. All she could do was sit down on the settee and let the tears rush down her face like the first snowmelt after a long hard winter.

Moments later Fiona came barging into the room, took one look at Sophie's tearful, swollen face, and immediately enveloped her in a comforting embrace. "There now, lass, don't let 'em gets to ye. Was nothin' but a no-good scoundrel, and ye deserves better, me always were tinkin'."

But hearing Fiona reiterate what everyone said about Howl did nothing to make Sophie feel better because what did that make her, when it was she who had betrayed him? "Fiona, please don't say those things about Howl. I know in my heart that Howl loves…." She swallowed back a lump in her throat, "…loved me, but what has happened to us is all my fault."

Fiona felt Sophie's forehead. It was warm and damp. "Yer feverish. Ye've made yerself sick with cryin'. Shh," she crooned. "Dinna go on sayin' such nonsense. Ye did nothin' wrong an' ye'll be better off without 'em. Now let me get ye inter yer bed. Ye've just gotten over a cold and I dinna want yet gettin' sick agin. Come now," Fiona said, gently coaxing Sophie out of the settee. Then with a steady arm of support, Fiona led her up to her bedroom where she tucked her into bed like a child. She swaddled her in bedclothes like a cocoon around a caterpillar, so that Sophie could only move her head from side to side. Even then her head felt heavy and soon she was in a deep, but fitful sleep.

She dreamt that she was in Howl's bedroom, and a fire that wasn't Calcifer was leaping out of the crate, straining for her. She tried to run away from it, but the spiders Howl loved so much were huge and glaring menacingly at her. You betrayed Howl! they taunted her. They crowded around closer to her, pushing her up to the fireplace, until she was practically standing in it. She felt the fire crawl up her legs, wind around her waist, and squeeze, until she could barely breathe. The heat was unbearable, and yet it didn't burn her, but seemed to be sucking the life force out of her. She struggled against it, twisting and turning, and screaming for help. Howl! she cried out, but no one came. It was then she felt like she was going to die, and she felt more frightened than she had ever felt before. Her heart sped up until she thought it might burst out of her chest. The fire cackled at that. I've got you now, it seemed to say, but before she could take her last breath she woke up with a start.

She sat straight up, her body drenched with sweat. When she tried to move she realized that she was wrapped up in blankets. It felt very reminiscent of her dream. Panicked, she started thrashing around. "Get off me!" she urged the blankets, and was relieved when they easily relinquished their hold on her, gently unwinding and falling harmlessly onto the bed. Then she leapt out of bed. She noticed the fire was blazing brightly, and felt unreasonably angry with it. Usually, she didn't like to let a fire go out; for one, because they could be so difficult to restart, and two, because they reminded her of Calcifer. But she could still feel the fire from her dream trying to squeeze the life out of her, and the room felt much too hot. So she grabbed the water basin on her vanity table and tossed it onto the fire. It went out with a sizzle and spires of smoke. She thought she would feel relieved, but she didn't.

She was still standing in front of the empty fireplace when Fiona came in to check on her. "My goodness! What are ye doin' outer bed? Ye should be resting!"

"I don't need to rest. I need to get out of this house! I know that you're trying to help, but you are smothering me! And I know that you think Howl is a horrible person, but he's not! I love him!" With those words, she ran straight out of the room, down the stairs and out the door into the still, night air. She ran and ran until she could barely breathe, and then she slowed down to a walk, not caring where she went.

It was a warm for an autumn evening and Sophie could not bear the thought of going back to the stuffy mansion. The moon was out bright and full, and the fireflies lit up the air around her like lanterns. When she saw a falling star streak across the night sky, she thought of Calcifer who had told her that if she made a wish, it was sure to come true. She closed her eyes and wished that Howl was there with her so that she could tell him that she wished he hadn't broken off their engagement. And when she opened her eyes, there he was.

"Howl!" she cried out in surprise. His appearance was disheveled, dark roots were sprouting through his blond hair, a dark shadow of stubble had already appeared on his face, and his eyes were bloodshot. She was overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol. "Howl, are you all right?"

"I was until I agreed to your horrible stepmother's request. I never should have agreed to court you." He stumbled towards her, obviously very drunk. When he was within arm's reach of her, he tripped over a rock and fell into her arms. She grabbed hold of him and nearly fell over in her efforts to stabilize him. When she felt that he was no longer in danger of falling over, she released him, but he locked her arms in a vice grip. "I should have swept you into my arms," he continued, his words only slightly impaired, "and carried you away to elope. That would have shocked your mother's sense of propriety. Now, look what good it's done her. You've become the Prince's—" he choked back his words, his voice thick with emotion, "but the devil take me…I still want you!"

He released her arms only to grab her head and kiss her forcefully. It was their first kiss. She was shocked when she felt his tongue on her lips, urging her to open her own, which she instinctually did, and was even more shocked at the unfamiliar feeling of him exploring her mouth, stirring up new sensations with the stroke of his tongue. He tasted of beer, whisky, and faintly of peanuts, and something else altogether unique. Then his hands were pulling on her gown, exposing her bare flesh to the night air, and his mouth following where his hands went.

He fell to his knees and pulled her down with him, pressing his hard body against hers. She was awash with the sensation of his bold ministrations to her body. Her skin felt overheated and her head swam with the dizzying sensations. A part of her knew that what she was allowing him to do was improper, but the other part of her, the wanton part that had dreamed of Howl kissing and touching her like this, won out.

He quickly had her on her back in the damp grass with her skirts bunched up around her waist. His face was buried in her neck where he tenderly kissed and sucked her. She felt the softness of his hair as it fell down around her, tickling her skin. She smelled the grass and dirt beneath her, and the soft fragrance of the hydrangeas growing a few feet away. But mostly she was overwhelmed with the tangy scent of his sweat, and something else that she had never smelled before. Then she heard the rip of clothing as he fumbled to get his pants down.

He grabbed her face again and kissed her as he suddenly thrust inside her, and she became in close intimate contact with the very heat of him.

"Oh, god!" he growled, immediately ceasing his movement. "You're so sweet," he whispered. "You feel so good." And then he began to move inside her.

So this is what it's like, Sophie thought. I wonder what all the fuss is about? She felt warm and tingly inside, but felt outside of body, like she was watching this happen to someone else. It's not nearly anything like what the girls at the hat shop used to gossip about. Why was Fiona so worried that I had done this with Howl? I rather wish that I hadn't let him, but I don't mind because I love him.

"I love you…my love," he kept repeating over and over again until he collapsed on top of her, breathing heavily. She lay there beneath him, wondering what she should do next, when she felt a deep rumble and a loud snore shattered the still quiet of the evening.

She did not fully understand what had just happened, but she could not help but feel that it was her fault. Suddenly the shame of what she had let him do overcame her, and all she wanted to do was return home before anyone began to miss her and came out to investigate. She didn't think she would be able to face anyone if they saw her in such a compromising position. Even Howl.

Gently she rolled Howl off of her and sat up to start buttoning her gown closed. She did her best to straighten her hair and smooth out any wrinkles. Then she turned to look at Howl. She'd never seen him asleep before. He looked much younger, almost Michael's age, and much less wizardly. She lightly caressed his cheek. "Please, please forget about what happened. Think of it as a dream. I know I wished that I could see you again, but now I wish I hadn't." She sighed. "I should get going."

She ran back to the house hoping that no one would see her. She knew that if anyone saw her, they would take one look at her face and know everything that had happened. Luckily, no one seemed to be around and she ran into her room and locked the door. When she took off her nightgown she noticed that a button was missing. Thinking that it would lead to questions if she let Fiona see the missing button she grabbed a spare button she had in her sewing kit. She picked it up and realizing that it didn't match, tried to cajole it into changing. "It would be ever so kind if you could turn white just like all the other buttons on this lovely dress. You'd be doing me a great favor." And to her amazement, the button began to twirl in her hand faster and faster until all the color seemed to fade right out of it, and she was left holding a white button in the same shape as all the other ones. "Thank you," she told it, then began sewing it on. When she was finished, she put the dress in the wardrobe in the very back where it was hidden. It would be her secret.

When Howl woke up, he had a head like the inside of a drum, and a mouth like a wad of cotton. He recognized that he was in the castle, but he couldn't remember how he got there. He was sitting at the table in front of the fire in a puddle of drool, arms tingling from lack of circulation. He could tell that he had a terrible hangover, it was quite a familiar state for him, really, and for a moment he thought that he had gotten drunk after a night out with the lads watching a match on the telly like he used to do back when he was at uni. Then it all suddenly came back to him—Sophie breaking his heart, and him breaking the engagement, and then the desire for oblivion to take away the ache in his heart.

Just thinking about her brought a fresh swell of tears to his eyes. Why did he have to love her so? If he hadn't been so in love, she never could have hurt him. It was why he had given his heart away in the first place, to give a fire demon a chance at life, and to make himself invulnerable. He had been a fool to think it was better to have a heart. A heart only made him weak. And heartsick. And he was going to be really sick in a moment.

He bolted to the toilet where he emptied the contents of his stomach, which only really contained beer and liquor. He was just wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand when he felt Calcifer's warm presence behind him.

Calcifer was surprisingly compassionate. "There, there, now," he said soothingly, "just let it all out."

"I don't think there's anything left in me. Pun intended." He sighed dramatically.

"Don't say that! So what if you've just broken up with the only woman who will ever put up with you. You're better off without her."

"You don't really believe that do you?"

"Not really, but I thought it would cheer you up."

"Don't quit your day job."

"Sorry if I'm not very good at this thing. I've never had to mend your heart before. But I think…if you just give it time, it will heal on its own. Hearts are pretty resilient like that, or so I've heard."

"Well, I suppose it's only what I deserve. Sophie's family is right about that. I've broken enough hearts of my own, it's only fair that it should happen to me as well."

"That's remarkably astute of you, Howl. I didn't think it was possible for you to show any self-awareness."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence."

"No, I'm being serious. You really have changed. Maybe you've grown up after all. Are you really sure there's nothing that can be done to repair your relationship with Sophie?"

"I would have to forgive her, and make her fall back in love with me."

"And don't you want to do that?"

"I want to, but I don't know if I can. And even if I could, perhaps her family is right about me. I have never deserved Sophie, and as much as I love her, she would be better off without me."

"That is the most selfless, gallant thing I've ever heard you say! I no longer have any doubts about your love for her. I just wish she could have believed you before she decided to take up with Prince Justin."

"You and me both." Howl sighed dejectedly.

Calcifer lifted a fiery hand to gentle pat him on the back, just barely singing his clothes. Noticing how dirty and disheveled Howl's clothing was, Calcifer said, "What did you get into last night? You look like you got into a bar fight!"

"I actually don't quite remember." Howl scratched his head. "I remember going to the local pub in Wales, but after that…nothing."

"It's probably best you forget it then. Why don't you take off these clothes and have a bath? I'll willingly make you some hot water, and I'll even mend your clothes for you. How does that sound?"

"That sounds unbelievably kind of you. Thank you!"

Howl couldn't understand how he got there. One moment he was nursing a drink at the counter, but suddenly he had the urge to stand up, and when he turned around he found that he was standing in a familiar field. And there was Sophie, standing only a few feet in front of him, wearing nothing but a thin nightgown. He could see the silhouette of her body through the thin material and she looked unbearably beautiful and innocent to him. He couldn't imagine anyone else touching her skin, or running his fingers through her silk hair. And he also knew that he had to touch her. So he kissed her, even though he knew that she no longer loved him, hoping that he could make her love him again. If only he could make her feel the same passionate desire for him that he felt for her, make her feel the same incessant wanting for him that he felt for her. He tried to infuse the same feelings in his ardent kisses. He had to touch her everywhere. Feel her bare skin pressed against his own. In moments he had her nightgown open and her skirts pulled up so that he could touch her everywhere. She was nothing but smooth creamy skin and he loved her muffled moans as he touched her, the way her breath hitched when his tongue suckled on a pink nipple, and she was so very hot and wet as he slipped first one finger and then a second inside of her very core. He couldn't stand it anymore. He couldn't wait one second more. So he opened his breeches and then slowly replaced his fingers with his engorged manhood. He thought he would lose himself that very moment. His mind went blank to everything but what he was feeling right there and then. He didn't know what he was doing or saying, he just had to keep moving, pulling out and plunging back in again and again until he met his release…

Howl woke up panting, unable to distinguish what was real from what was fantasy. He could still feel her hands on his body, her kisses on his lips, and his stomach was wet with his seed from his release. It was the most vivid dream he'd ever had of her. Since he had gone away, he had thought of her all the time. He wondered what she was doing, who she was talking with, hoping that she wasn't spending every moment cleaning her mother's house. He'd also let his thoughts wonder to more pleasant things, like what her hair looked like, whether she had her glorious red mane up and hidden under some old fashioned scarf or was it down, tempting men with its luster? And what was she wearing? Her hideous grey gown, or something newer, more youthful, and lower cut? Or was she wearing anything at all? He would picture her having a bath, rivulets of water running down between her breasts, and bubbles only slightly obscuring his view of her body beneath the surface of the water. And he would feel himself get hard, and there would be nothing for it until he'd stroked himself into oblivion with her name on his lips.

Somehow, this time seemed different from the rest. The rest had just been fantasies, but this had felt real. More like a memory. Memory? Howl, thought to himself, that can't be…As much as he would have wanted to, Sophie deserved better than to be taken on the ground in the dirt like she was a mare in heat, and he was some randy stallion. She deserved to be made love to in a bed with silk sheets, rose petals, and soft candlelight. And yet there was this niggling feeling in the back of his mind. As a sorcerer it was his business to pay attention to dreams, and this dream was screaming at him, trying to tell him something, but what it was, he couldn't imagine.

A/N: I have been hanging on to this chapter for a very long time, but I've only just gotten around to cleaning it up and finishing it. And I wouldn't even be posting it now, except that I just got a review asking me about this story, which lets me know that people are still reading it. So I would like to urge you to keep leaving reviews on stories, even if they haven't been updated in a while, because you never know which one it will be that will be just the encouragement a writer needs to post something!