Author's note and disclaimer:

This is based on the book, but with a more mature concept of Howl's courting of young ladies and his moral code.

One major mistake (of mine) I've noted is that in the book, Howell goes back to blond after the funeral and makes a Hamlet joke to boot so my story starting out with him still black haired is incorrect. Anything else you note, feel free to comment on. Reviews are most welcome and I'm pleased that you're enjoying this story.

I do not own anything and write out of love of the story, not to benefit from Diana Wynne Jones' work.

000O000

Chapter 8

In which Howell comes to an understanding

Ingary is a land of natural beauty and the view outside of the Wizard Howl's moving castle was no exception. The steep sloping hills and flower dotted valleys glistened and glittered in the morning sun. The aforementioned wizard was not aware of it. It would be a mistake to say he slept through it, however, as he hadn't slept much at all the night before. Instead he kept his nose to the grindstone, drawing and plotting out something quite massive. He'd ignored several knocks on his door since dawn, several calls to come sit for breakfast and the sound of concerned voices holding meetings outside his door. He intended to ignore all other attempts to get his attention as well.

"Howl?" He heard Sophie's voice at his door again. "There's a messenger here to see you." Sophie waited, but so did he. "Um, should I send him away?"

He had to answer that, couldn't have her sending away paying work. "Do what we always do, woman! He's a damn messenger. Take his message and send him on his way." He heard her snort and listened to her footsteps as she went back down the stairs. Howell stood, feeling empty and in need of a bath. He gathered his notes and kicked through the mess of blankets on the floor to find his clothes for the day. With a few spells, they should look fine again. He was just gathering them in his arms when he heard knocking again.

"Howl?" Michael's voice came through. "Can I come in?"

Howell felt he owed it to the boy and he was curious about the message, so he released the charms on the door and sat on the bed to wait.

Michael entered with a tray in his arms, laden with food Howell was unlikely to eat and on the side, a roll of new parchment. He followed Howell's gaze and shrugged as he set the tray down on the corner of the bed, leaning up against one of the side posts. "Sophie's, uh, idea," he said. Howell gave a short grunt of acknowledgment and took the parchment. It was what he expected.

"Did you have a go at the spells?" He set the paper down and looked over the food. There were some cream puffs that looked interesting. Without compunction, he took one pastry and devoured it. Its sweet filling clung to his mouth and chin as he realized that the boy hadn't answered. He glanced up, setting the second treat down to focus on Michael. The teen was clearly uncomfortable and he doubted it was due to his state of dishabille. Howell raised an eyebrow. "Well?"

Michael shifted his feet, unable to meet his teacher's eyes. Howell waited. Michael cleared his throat and, as if he were the adult speaking with a foolish child, he said, "Howl, this is insane. You and she... You haven't been yourself since she came, really. First it was the curse, and now this sulking, it's too much. Look at you! I don't understand--"

Howell jumped in, "What you don't understand is everything, Michael! Martha's your first girlfriend. I can't count how many I've had." He watched Michael steam up over this.

"First! She's my one and only!"

Howell raised his hands and signaled Michael to lower his volume as he went on, "But I've never been in love before and..." He thought of the words he wanted and was pleased that Michael calmed down enough to listen. "And she's not making it any easier. She's been trying to manipulate me. I don't care if it's because of others; she's had the chance to show her love for me and she's failed. I don't want to lose her, but... what can I do?" He turned away from the plate of food. His apprentice stood with his mouth open. Howell shrugged and began to dress. They had several projects to start. He grabbed a piece of paper off of the floor and pushed it into Michael's hands. "Go make sure we have enough of these on hand. I'd hate to be halfway through and run out." He looked at the slight blush on the boy's face. "You did look at the spells, didn't you? No? Well, don't stand there looking guilty, we've got work to do!" He smiled a bright grin at him. No harm done, he could do this part alone really and the boy would get up to speed quickly enough. As Michael assured him that he'd go see to the supplies, Howell stood and held the tray of food out for him. "I appreciate that you care Michael, but please don't get involved. I've got enough meddlers to deal with right now." He waited for the boy to leave before transporting himself to the bathroom to shower and freshen up for the day. Another hot day, he guessed.

Grumbling greeted him as he emerged from his morning routine. He ignored Calcifer who stopped his complaints to Michael at the first sign of Howell. "Work!" Howell shouted and Michael ran to follow him outside. From the size of the King's order, he guessed that the negotiations with Strangia weren't going well. Howell hated war, but his main concern was with keeping the death toll down, at least on Ingary's side. Not much he could do about the other chaps. The metal he and Michael wove through spell work and grunt work should help those on the front line. Just as he never used love spells when dating, he didn't use his home world's methods to helter skelter bring in technology. If he couldn't do it by magic, he didn't do it. When the solution to strengthening and lightening the metals came to him, he saw several uses, none of them for war. But, thanks to Sophie, the King wanted new chest armor for his soldiers and Howell would do it. He doubted Ben could do anything on this scale! The day got hotter and hotter as they worked out in the sun and finally Michael asked for a break.

Another solution, this one to a personal problem, had presented itself to Howell's mind. It was... unpleasant. Manipulative at its best, reprehensible at its worst and most likely to blow up in his face. Still, it was in motion and he had to see it through. He was more comfortable dealing with spells than with feelings any day! Howell went inside and up the stairs to the flower shop. Sophie, in her pretty blue dress, was sweeping up petals and taking an order for a future party from a pleasant looking woman in the dull, provincial dress typical of Market Chipping. He swooped in. "Good day to you," he smiled and the customer blushed as he knew she would. Sophie snorted and bent to sweep the debris into her dustbin. "You look like a beautiful rosebud today." He pulled a pink rose from the air in front of the woman and she gasped as he handed it to her. Ignoring Sophie, he went behind the counter and pulled out a quill and paper. "Do you mind if I write your order down? I don't want us to forget a detail and ruin a perfectly lovely party." She willingly repeated her order, inflating as Howell's eyebrow raised here and there as she didn't seem to want him to think she was skimping.

He pulled the blinds and put out the sign that they were closed once he'd escorted the woman out the door. Sophie rounded on him as he locked up. "What was that all about? I don't forget details!"

Howell beamed at her. "Of course not, darling Sophie, but I do and you know Michael is so distracted these days with his lady love." He took her elbow and began to guide her toward the castle entrance. She looked at him oddly, but he kept up a cheerful countenance and she seemed disinclined to upset that. As they came out into the main hall, Howell let her go, but moved to her sleeping area, still bare since the destruction of his sheets. He turned to her. "Will you need help with packing, my dear? You can always come back to collect anything you may have forgotten, but I won't have your mother thinking we're stealing your belongings." He pulled a suitcase out of thin air and set it on the cot. All eyes in the room were on him and he looked around to see confusion in all of them. "Well?" His grin broadened as Sophie didn't move. "Shall I help you, then?" He began to call various items of hers out of the workroom and packed them himself when they arrived. Boxes, ribbons and clothing bobbed across the room as if on parade.

To add to the festivities, the sound of knocking began. "Mansion door," Calcifer called out. Michael ran to it, a pair of socks falling over his shoulder as he interrupted the flow of garments. Howell ignored the entryway as he concentrated on his task.

"S-stop," she stuttered. Her voice sounded weak, not at all like the feisty girl he loved and Howell might have listened to her, but for the next voice that he heard.

"Howl! What do you think you're doing?" Calcifer was still in the hearth, his blue face flickering with emotion.

"Packing. Sophie here is going back to her family today. There's really nothing keeping her here now and here is her mother now." He kept his back to the room as Fanny entered, followed by a silent Michael. A small triumph, Howell thought. Perhaps he trusted his mentor to do the right thing or perhaps he was just too tired?

Sophie whispered, "Why?" but Howell pretended his excellent hearing had failed and ignored her. Fanny came to stand next to Sophie, putting her arm around the girl's shoulder and telling her how happy she was that her step daughter had changed her mind.

"What about her training?" Calcifer challenged.

"What about it? She doesn't want to listen to me." He turned to face the women as they stood by the table, the parade of Sophie's belongings having having stopped. "Do you, Mrs. Knows-it-all? Perhaps you can drop by for lessons on ethics, though. You have some odd notions about that." Howell waved an arm dismissively and turned back to the bed with the suitcase on it. He heard Sophie sit down heavily. He smiled to himself. She was taking this as he'd hoped she would.

Calcifer couldn't let it drop. "Howl, you idiot! You can't kick Sophie out. Who'll clean the hearth, huh? Who'll take care of us?"

"Kick her out?" Fanny cried. "Why, she doesn't need any more of your abuse!"

Howell turned back again. He didn't dislike Fanny at all. She was rather beautiful, perhaps a decade older than Howell and she took care to always look her best, but that special anger she held for him soured his view of her. "I believe you're overcompensating, Mrs. Smith. The years of abuse you heaped on her as an unpaid worker are being confused with a few month's work that I never asked her to do." He was careful to keep his tone cool, his demeanor soft. There wasn't much chance of his plan actually working, but if it did, he would someday want her on his side. No hope of that today, however as she seemed to be torn between tearing out of the castle and tearing him apart. Michael was watching with concern on his face, but was uncharacteristically quiet. Sophie's face was hidden in her hands and Calcifer flared up and down the chimney with anger. Fanny's indecision gave him the opportunity to answer Calcifer, "Funny thing about that, Calcifer... There's really nothing keeping you here either. Perhaps you can find work with another wizard?" He walked over to the mirror on the workbench, all eyes following him as he pulled the fabric off of it, but didn't attempt to contact anyone, it was understood. "Imagine the fun you can have powering up Mrs. Fairfax's honey spells or maybe Ben can use you from time to time? I'm sure we can find you a nice placement, but as you've pointed out on many occasions, I've been so beastly to you. It's high time for you to take a break. If you like, perhaps Michael and I can whip up a second shell for you to use, now and then." He smiled. Thin purple lips curled into a sneer as the fire demon digested Howell's words.

"You? Kicking me out? This place is my home! I built this place!" He didn't sound hurt, although Howell knew there was some of that, but primarily he sounded disbelieving. The logs hissed and popped with emotion. "I don't need another monkey suit. I'm done with trying to be like you guys; it's too confusing!" He towered up, his face in a demonic fury from the hearth to the chimney. "I'm the best thing you got going on, Howell! Your power--"

"Will do just fine for us. I have some plans outside for a flying castle, inspired by you, Sophie dear. How else can I hope to visit all the nice girls I have to apologize to? Michael and I will manage perfectly well now that we're not trying to dodge the Witch or avoid the King. Really, I'm surprised you're not both ecstatic." He paused, trying to decide how thick to lay it on.

Calcifer roared, "A flying castle? Without me! I don't see how you think--"

Howell interrupted the demon, saying calmly, "I think everyone's getting just a bit out of sorts. It must be the heat. Don't you think it's hot out, Michael?"

"Uh, yeah. Sure?" The boy leaned against the wall, uncertain what role he was supposed to play.

"Well, it's too hot to ask Sophie to carry her own bags. Here, come and take these out to the carriage for her." Howell held up the suitcase and a small bag. She had very little when she came, but had somehow expanded her stuff in the few short months. Michael approached tentatively, knowing Calcifer was glaring and Sophie sobbing into her stepmother's hug.

"No." The little gray mouse from Market Chipping whispered the word at first, then she said it again with slightly more volume. Michael stepped back, bags in hand.

"What was that? You'll have to speak up," Howell said as he prepared a shield, just in case.

"I said, no!" She stood next to Fanny and put her hands on her hips. "You aren't kicking me out!" Fanny patted her back and told her that it was for the best. She signaled Michael to come, but he stood watching Howell and Sophie.

"Of course I'm not. Nothing of the sort," Howell lied. "But you must admit, unless you want me to hire you as my cleaning lady officially, there's nothing keeping you under my roof." He realized he'd stepped over the line when he saw the hurt on her face. His smile faltered. "Perhaps you should tell your mother the real reason you want to stay?" He waited as she grew red in the face.

Sophie turned to Calcifer first, but the fire, back to normal size now, effectively shrugged. His flame flickered and his eyes were large, but he had no help for her. She then turned to Howell again, "I don't know what you mean," she said defiantly.

A heart is a great burden and Howell's gave a quick squeeze, maybe as a reminder that it was there. He kept his hand from moving to it though and schooled his face to keep a nonchalant expression. "You've had so many chances," he said. His voice held more sadness than he would've liked. He covered it with a more aggressive tone. "Why! Tell her! Tell me."

Fanny tried to hold Sophie again, saying that they should just go and leave him alone. As Howell predicted, that didn't go down well. Sophie drew strength in the form a deep breath and, looking at her hands, whispered, "I love him." The room went deathly silent. It wasn't the way he'd want a declaration of love made, but it had to be done. "There," she spat the word at him, her eyes searching his face. "Are you happy?"

Howell had to admit that he was, in an odd sort of way. It gave him hope, having it in the open like that. He couldn't show it, of course, because running to her now would ruin all the work he'd gone through to get her to the point she so effortlessly got him to all of the time. He kept his expression blank.

She flinched away. "I'm sorry, Howl," she said softly. "I didn't mean to hurt you. Believe me, I am sorry." She reached for Fanny's hand and started toward the door.

Howell couldn't keep his laugh out of his voice, "Apology accepted, Sophie Hatter." He saw her back stiffen and she stopped walking, her hand held in midair as her stepmother tried to keep going. "And you know how I feel?" Not turning around, she nodded her head. "Say it," he demanded.

Choking back a sob, Sophie started, "You don't ever love a girl once she loves you back."

This time Howell couldn't stop himself and he flew across the room, startling Fanny as he spun Sophie to face him. "Is that what all of this has been about?" he asked, incredulously. "Calcifer? Is this what you've been telling her?" There was no anger in his voice, just astonishment. The fire had no time to answer before Howell asked, "How could you think that, Sophie?" He lifted her chin so that he could see her pretty blue gray eyes. "I can never stop loving you, cariad!" He placed a soft kiss on her lips, watching her eyes widen and then close as she kissed him back, a smile at the edge of her mouth.

Fanny cleared her throat. Howell and Sophie pulled back from their kiss, but kept gazing at one another, the magic from Midsummer's Day seemingly back for them both. "While I don't want to speak out of place, I would like to point out that it is still unseemly for you to stay here, Sophie."

Howell's face fell and he said apologetically, "I said I wouldn't ask you again."

Calcifer found his voice as well. "If she goes, I will too, Howell. She's the best thing that's happened here since Michael moved in."

Michael laughed and put down Sophie's bags that he'd held during all of the drama. Howell and Sophie both turned to him. "Well, in the common way, you guys are already married." Even the crackling of the fire was silent for a moment. "Um, if you wanted to be, I guess," he said hesitantly. Everyone stared at him as he went on. "It's like my folks... you know, sometimes people wait months to do the ceremony, but as long as you tell an official your intent and you live under the same roof, you know... um, consummating. It's the way people do." The teen blushed bright red, but his embarrassment wasn't noticed as Howell and Sophie looked at each other. Michael forced himself to go on, "I think the King counts as an official and you guys have... well, the other morning when Sophie came out of your room. I thought you knew--"

He wasn't able to complete the thought. Sophie shouted, "Race you!" and was gone up the stairs. Her stepmother stood in her wake, mouth open. Fanny shook her head in disbelief before leaving.

Realization crossed Howell's face and he blinked out of the living room, appearing at the top of the stairs and catching Sophie up in his arms. "Cariad," he whispered from under a shower of her kisses. "Are you sure?"

She nodded and looked into his eyes. "I love you, Howl, and I want our happily ever after. I don't need any rings or ceremonies. I want to make you happy." She pulled him into a kiss and he laughed at her need which so resembled his own.

"Rwy'n dy garu di, Sophie. I love you," he said before pulling her into his room.

Downstairs in the living area, Calcifer shrugged his way into his human costume and turned to Michael. "Close your mouth before you catch flies, kid. I think a walk is in order. Grab the boots. I think we can get a room at an inn I know."

000O000

All reviews are appreciated and can be sent to me over fan fic's PM as well. Thanks to the best reviews in the world! I hope this redo of the final chapter is less abrupt than the first version. If you see other ways this story can be improved, feel free to message me here or at the conesoldstober community on lj.

A/N:Language disclaimer: Welsh is the oldest of the Celtic languages in use today. It is a beautiful and difficult language and I've done the best I can, but as a non-native speaker, errors will occur. Feel free to alert me to any that you find. Pronunciation isn't always what you'd expect and there are letters that don't have an equal in English. You can find many good resources on the web. I particularly like the BBC's for information on learning the language. If I've missed any translations, let me know.

Cariad: Beloved

Rwy'n dy garu di: I love you

There is a lemony version at aff, but it is a slightly different story and definitely adult.