Author's notes:

Whew, the magazine is finally out! But judging by the nationality of the readers of this fic, there's no use for me posting a link, since you wouldn't understand a word anyway. ;-)

This has, however, been a week of hard labor and much more is to come. Life is not exactly smiling at me at the moment, but trust me, I'll keep on writing. Your kind reviews and words mean SO much to me, you have no idea!

This is a rather short chapter–the next one will be much longer (and *that* is a chapter worth looking forward to!) Can't make any promises about when, but within the next two too three weeks, I guess.

And by the way–this chapter *does* contain some angst. At least some. ;-)

–––

Granny had seemed to enjoy herself tremendously at the wedding. The sight of her eyes nearly running over during the ceremony had almost made Sophie lose it too. (Her sisters and Honey had been crying nonstop, but that was to be expected. They usually took every chance they got to bawl their eyes out over trifles.) The former Witch of the Waste had been showering Howl and Sophie with compliments of their attire, how beautiful they looked together and of course, what a handsome man Howl was.

But as they returned from their honeymoon, they'd both become aware of a change in her behavior. Before, she'd had her senile spells and bad days now and then, but quite a few moments of clarity in between. Now, however, she hardly ever spoke a word. She spent most of her day in bed, sleeping, or sitting at the patio, her eyes sort of glazed over, as if her mind was wandering far away.

One morning, she was refusing to take any food. As Sophie tried to feed her, she just shook her head at the spoon, a slight, solemn smile on her face. No matter what they tried, they couldn't make her eat–or even drink, for that matter. Markl graciously offered his rations of the genuine food, but to no avail. The next morning, she remained the same, a sad determination in her eyes as she was turning away from the spoon.

In the afternoon of the second day, Howl desperately started rummaging through his bookshelves for an adequate spell, but Sophie walked up to him from behind, putting her arms around his waist, gently pulling him away. "Howl… listen…" she said in a soft voice. "There are things that even magic can't… or should prevent…"

Howl's body softened in her embrace, and quietly, he buried his head on her shoulder, holding her hands in his as he was shivering with sobs. Gradually, she felt the fabric over her collarbone getting wet.

On the morning of the third day, there was no change. Granny was hardly able to open her eyes as Sophie tried to rustle her awake. She was still refusing any nourishment. The fourth night, Howl and Sophie both sat by her side, listening to her breaths as they were gradually getting shallower and longer and longer in between. Just before the first light of dawn, she drew a last, shuddering breath… and then, there was nothing but silence.

The reverend who had conducted their wedding offered to take the funeral as well, but he couldn't negotiate the costs. Only one of the cemeteries in Market Chipping had been reopened and cleared of debris, and with the massive number of casualties of the war and in its wake, the waiting list for a funeral was long and expensive. Naturally, Sophie and Howl offered everything they could afford. Even Markl insisted on paying his share from his savings, and since both of them were aware of that for him, this meant so much more than the contribution of money in itself, they allowed the donation.

They would never have been able to afford a tombstone, but fortunately Howl was allowed to use a summoning spell to bring a rock, later magically sculptured to perfection. Markl was begging to be given a try with the inscription, and Howl and Sophie naturally gave their permission. It took the boy several hours, and much guidance from Howl, to summon the magic needed to affect the surface of the stone. But eventually, four words, sculptured in somewhat childish letters, appeared:

""GRANNY"–LOVED, MISSED, REMEMBERED."

After the funeral, they were covering the ground in front of the tombstone with all kinds of flowers that could be found in the meadows surrounding the cottage. Sophie was once again reminded of Heen's intelligence as he too, his tail low and his eyes filled with sadness, carefully placed a single rose on top of the heap, bowing in curtesy.

Of course, many tears were shed throughout the process, and Sophie was certain even Calcifer would have wept, had it not been for the risk of putting himself out in the process. But the first few days after the funeral, Howl had been next to inconsolable. He was crying until he'd drained himself of tears and energy, then lying curled up on their bed, facing the wall, refusing to eat and even come downstairs at all. He was hardly saying a word, more or less ignoring Sophie's inquires on how he felt or if he needed anything.

Eventually, Sophie nearly lost her temper. "Howl, listen. We're all devastated from what happened, but life must go on! We need you–I need you, and Markl needs you too! Imagine what it will do to him–he's already lost both of his parents, and his granny… and now he's terrified that something is happening to you too!"

At her words, Howl let out a faint whimper, as if he was in pain… but then, he slowly turned over, finally facing her. He lifted his arm, indicating that he wanted her to lay down beside him. His face was swollen from all the tears. Letting out a resigned sigh, Sophie sat down on the bed, and let herself be drawn down into a trembling embrace.

"I'm sorry…" Howl gasped. "But… once, she was powerful… wise, and stunningly beautiful. Then… she became obsessed with power and greed… people started fearing and loathing her instead… and now, at her death… no one even remembered her real name…"

Sophie stroke his bangs aside, uncovering his half-shut eyes. "We will remember her, and that was the only thing that mattered to her in the end…" Sensing there was something more behind his words, she continued. "And you are… and you were not like her. Even without your heart… you never forgot how to cry."

–––

As Howl was finally rising from bed, walking down the stairs, Sophie followed behind. Markl was sitting by the kitchen table, absently looking at the rain outside the window. Heen had placed himself on top of his feet. There was a deep sense of sadness surrounding them.

Without a word, Howl walked up to the table, and bending over, he pulled Markl into a tight embrace. A little startled at first, Markl stiffened, but with a quick look at Sophie, he succumbed, returning the affection. Even Calcifer did a double take with surprise.

Like father and son. A warm sensation spread through Sophie's body.

–––

To be continued...