"Oh Sophie, my dear, my love, my sweetest heart and wife whom loves me so very much!" came the voice from the couch, the speaker's voice practically dripping with all the melodrama that he deemed necessary, "I do believe I am dead!"
"Oh Howl, my heart, my dear, my beloved husband whom I love so very much," returned the woman, echoing his sentiment back at him, but with significantly more of a deadpan delivery, glancing over to the man flung over the couch, "If you were dead I cannot imagine that you would be able to tell me about it."
"Well, dying then!" Howl returned, his hand fluttering against his forehead the moment he was sure that his wife was looking over in his general direction, his hair tossed and flicked about in a way that made him appear like a painting, a delicate blond cloud surrounding his features in a way he was sure looked absolutely lovely, "I'm over here dying, and you are barely batting an eye! What a cruel and unkind woman she is!"
Sophie rolled her eyes with such force, it was a marvel she didn't get dizzy as a result. In the most pointed way possible, she shuffled about, flicked the stray strands of her long red hair from her forehead with an exaggerated manner, and landed her full attention upon the man. This was, of course, overly dramatised in a way that mirrored, and more importantly mocked the wizard before her.
"You have my unbridled attention," the witch declared, clasping her hands together in her lap, "Now tell me, does your sudden unforeseen and upcoming death have anything to do with your council with the king?"
The man brought his hands down on his face hard enough for it to make a sound, but not loud enough for it to leave any marks, he was too much of a narcissist to risk even the slightest hint of a blemish. It was clear that she had struck the figurative nail on the head with this, not that this was very difficult, he might as well have been carrying a large sign reading 'I Do Not Want To Attend A Meeting' based on his actions.
"He's going to ask me to do something dull again, I just know it!" Evidently this was the absolute worst thing that he could imagine happening at that moment. "If I was not dying now, I shall surely be reduced to nothing but bones by the end of it!"
"You don't even know why he asked for you?"
"He's been on about this all day," came a voice from one of the inner doorways, this voice belonging to none other than Michael, straightening out his shirt, trying to make himself look as presentable as he could, evidently having plans that Sophie did not need more than one guess to name who with, "I caught him trying to sneak out in some elaborate disguise, then another when I told him that nobody in their right mind would wear what he was wearing if they weren't, well, him."
"I'm impressed you were able to talk some sense into him," the woman remarked, a very obvious laugh wavering dangerously close to bursting out in her voice, "I didn't think he had any."
"Talking about me as if I was already gone!" woe-d and lamented Howl, speaking as if he did think that the others had forgotten that he was there at all, "Practicing for when I am buried away in the ground? Get on with it then!"
"Oh shush you," Sophie shot back with all the love, affection and irritation in the world, "You're not dying and you're not going to be hiding here all day when you have obligations."
The wizard let out a pained groan, and if she did not know her husband far too well, she would have almost been lead to believe that he really was dying. She loved him, really she did, but that did not mean that she was not very aware of how annoying her husband, the Wizard Howl - and also the Wizard Jenkin, and Wizard Pendragon, and Howl Pendragon, and Howell Jenkins, because he evidently could not have too many names to go by - really was. Well, she knew what she was getting into, even from their very first meeting, and so she could hardly blame anyone but herself.
"You're allowed to swat him if you have to, don't forget that!" called Michael as he hurried over to the door, busing himself with setting it so he could head out on his date.
"Don't swat my sister now, you hear?" Sophie called back as the teenager hopped out the door.
"I won't!" And with this said, the lad had vanished altogether.
Rising to her feet, pausing only briefly to brush down her skirts in a way that made sure it was very obvious she meant business, and when just enough of a moment passed them by, she marched right over to where her husband lay, the wizard clearly determined to spend exactly as long as he needed to be on the couch to avoid all undesirable meetings.
"You're going." said she with all the certainty in the world.
"I'm not," he returned with much the same certainty, even going so far as to add, "And you can't make me." for good measure.
Unfortunately for the man, the witch took his words as a challenge rather than a declaration. Without saying a single word, she rolled up her sleeves and, fighting a smile, picked the stubborn man right up, ignoring the alarmed squawk that he uttered as a result. He did not take this lying down - he wished he could, however, as it meant he would have still been lying down and was not tossed over his wife's shoulder like a bag of flour - and set about squirming with a determination to free himself from the woman's grip. On Sophie's end, she was delighted to find that she hadn't failed to lift him at all, or worse still dropped him immediately.
"Put me down! You're a madwoman! This is kidnapping! I'm being kidnapped from my own house!" A beat. "Husband-napped! Oh help! Michael, come back! Sophie has finally gone mad and husband-napped me!" Each word came with a different squirm or flail, but for all his stubbornness, his wife was his equal.
"I'll carry you right to the king's front door if I have to," she threatened, "Really, Howl, you know he'll keep asking for you until you go, you might as well get it over with before you make it anyone else's problem too."
"Maybe I would like to make it everyone else's problem too? Did you think about that? No? No, of course you didn't!"
"I'll be just outside to step in when you inevitably screw things up too much." Oh yes, Sophie knew exactly what she was doing with this challenge. "You won't be able to get yourself out any other way, I'm sure, it'd be better off if you didn't go at all."
"How dare you!" exclaimed the man, "Set me down right now, let me fetch my coat at least. You won't deny a man a coat in the heart of winter would you?" It was not the middle of winter. "If we leave now it'll be over before you even have the chance to say 'extrapolate' while you're waiting!"
"Extrapolate?" asked Sophie, cautiously lowering the wizard to the ground.
The second he hit the ground he dashed off in the direction of wheresoever he had last thoughtlessly tossed his coat.
"It was the first word that came to mind." Howl returned, whirling the coat about him in a way that he absolutely did not need to do but felt the moment deserved. There were very few situations, in the Wizard Jenkin's opinion that were not improved by whirling or twirling some sort of lovely clothing article or another.
For the entirety of the day, the man had been lying upon the couch or trying to sneak out into hiding only to be caught by Michael, and yet now, with the slightest hint of a challenge coming from his beloved and he was all but stamping his foot at the door ready to go, and actually go. It was enough to get her giggling a pure, genuine giggle that set a smile to creep onto the wizard's face, stealing the impatient pout from his face all at once. With that, and with one more little laugh, the couple were out and off to see the king.
Evidently, Howl was not completely wrong. Though they were out longer than it would take to say the word 'extrapolate' or any other such words that came to mind when he was claiming how long the meeting would last, the pair was back before Michael was, even when they did stop to pick up the occasional supply that either the witch or the wizard, or even both, decided that they needed when they passed by somewhere that might sell it.