Howl's Moving Castle Fan Fiction ❯ Of Angels, Demons, And Wickedness ❯ Act I: The Angel - In which the Angel drowns his anxieties ( Chapter 2 )

Disclaimer: All characters in “Howl's Moving Castle” and brief references to “Fire and Hemlock” belong to Diana Wynne Jones. “WICKED: The Musical” belongs to Stephen Schwartz. “Tam Lin” is public property, the ballad is not mine, nonetheless. All other verse and prose not directly related to those above is a figment of my very strange imagination.

 

February 28, 2006

 

Of Angels, Demons, and Wickedness

By Ina-chan

 

ACT I.The Angel

In which the angel drowns his anxieties

 

 

“Somehow I've fallen under your spell

And somehow I'm feeling it's up that I fell”

 

Fiyero

(“As Long as You're Mine” from “Wicked”)

 

 

/“Do you want to know what I really want?”/

 

 

It was wet as always, though the midsummer shower had already faded to a faint drizzle. Somehow, the mundane familiarity of the weather was oddly comforting. Thus, the saying, “familiarity begets comfort”.

 

Most of the time, anyway…

 

Only God knew how much he desperately needed it now, simply to keep his sanity. Any other man faced with the ordeal he had in front of him would probably have probably given up a long time ago. All the major pieces he had played in his strategy had fallen into the hands of the enemy. With what little time he had left ticking away, and the most important piece he had hoped that would bring the game in his favour had proven to be useless… alive, in a manner of speaking, but entirely useless.

 

She did say that he would regret it if he pushed Her hand. He knew how clever She was all too well. Even with all the power in the world, a person does not live as long as She did with all the odds stacked against Her. That was one of the things he always admired about Her, even though their… relationship… ended up rather… strained.

 

Not once, however, did he ever imagine that he would fall prey into Her game as easily as the next person. His grandmother once wisely predicted that someday a woman would cause his downfall. He already had several close calls, but he managed to avoid the inevitable danger in every one of them. It appalled him to think that She would actually get the better of him.

 

He willed his fingers to stop trembling, and forced himself to laugh and smile with old friends and colleagues in his University's Rugby Club. He tried to forget all of it for this one evening, possibly his last, where the familiar comforted him despite some of the participants succumbing to the after effects of age. While they all had their own personal reasons for coming, they all pretty much came for the same thing; to push aside the disappointments brought by real life, ignore the hints of receding hairlines and slight paunchiness around their midriffs, and for one evening, relieve the glory days of their youth.

 

To relive the wild after-game parties in their favourite tavern regardless of winning or losing a match, where they celebrated their victories or drowned their sorrows with boisterous merry making and rounds of ale. Of which always seemed to end up with him loosing count after the eighth drink, along with the most of the memory of what happened the rest of the night. Somehow, these evening always ended with him waking up painfully the next morning with a desert in his mouth and a sledgehammer pounding away loudly in his head.

 

More often than he would have liked to admit, those mornings usually meant waking up in a strange room he didn't recognize. Occasionally it was beside a blonde, a brunette or a redhead who was just as equally strange. Of course, there was that short period of time when he opened his eyes in the morning light to a more familiar room with familiar company. The warm body sleeping beside him was usually already awake, watching him with those beautiful chocolate, almond-shaped eyes that he never got tired of gazing into.

 

Those eyes would gaze back with an expression of wonder… tenderness… mischief. Their owner would do various playful and pleasant things in such mornings, such as like impishly disappear underneath the warmth of their shared covers, accompanied by a downward trail of hot persistent kisses…

 

 

/“Do you want to know what I truly desire?”/

 

 

He quickly downed the remaining contents of his mug and allowed the cold and bitter liquid to wash away that memory away as well, along with the problem with Her that he wanted to forget. He may have lost his ability to love again properly after he forged that contract, but it didn't take away the memories of the pain caused by love beforehand. It annoyed him that She saw right through that side of him as well and did not waste any time hesitating to exploit it.

 

“Still drowning away your sorrows?” A familiar voice boomed heartily as the owner gave his back a playful slap. “Looks like nothing much has changed with the Golden Boy, eh, Jenkins?”

 

“Griff!” Howell exclaimed in surprise, as he clapped the other man's shoulder in the same manner. “You made it!”

 

“I made it?” Griff bellowed back in mock indignation. “Who are you to talk? You suddenly disappear from the face of the Earth just before you start your Fellowship at Oxford, then all of the sudden I get a phone call nine years later asking me for a favour help you chase another one of your wild goose research projects.”

 

Howell laughed good-naturedly, happy to see his old friend. Alexander Griffith was six years his senior, but the older man was still the only one who didn't treat him any differently during their careers together in graduate school and as Wings in the Rugby Club. Breezing through his undergraduate studies and making it to graduate school when he was barely nineteen was enough to create an alienating reputation for himself with his peers.

 

“I still didn't expect you showing up today,” Howell countered. “Finally decided to mingle with the peasant folk, did you? Did the ivory tower get a little too lonely?”

 

“It's only lonely because you're still running away from your destiny!” Griff teased back.

 

Howell made a sardonic grin at his friends' ironic comment. Even though his friend was talking about something completely different, it seemed odd that the first jest out of his friend's mouth would reflect of what was currently going on in his life. Then again, Griff had the unique talent of being in-tuned with him without realizing it.

 

“You really made a big mess with that disappearing act of yours,” Griff mused more soberly.

 

“Megan hasn't forgiven me for that either,” Howell added mournfully.

 

“Where DID you disappear to, anyway?” Griff asked curiously. “All I heard the last couple of years are random mysterious sightings more baffling than the average UFO. You didn't go with your jest and went off to join the SAS now, did you?”

 

“I'm afraid if I answer that, I'm going to have to kill you,” Howell replied seriously.

 

Griff let out a hearty laugh at that, before stating in a more sober tone, “Did you find what you were looking for?”

 

 

/“Do you want to know what I've been searching for all these years?”/

 

 

Howell swirled the amber liquid in his cup idly. “No.”

 

“I mentioned your project to Matheson some time back. He knew someone who could have helped but I didn't know how to contact you. I can't believe you even keep your sister out of the loop with your whereabouts,” Griff sighed in exasperation before turning his attention back to his original thought. “One of his former students… you may have heard of her. She married that famous cellist last year. I believe her first book debuted three months ago. Polly Whittacker… though, I believe she goes by Polly Lynn now. She has some interesting insight in one of the stories you were researching. You know… the Tam Lin ballad.”

 

For the first time that night, Howell allowed a genuine smile to touch the corners of his lips. Of all his friends, he knew he could count on Griff. It was heartening to know that even this late in the game Griff was still trying to help him, even though it didn't really matter anymore. “Thanks.”

 

“What was this important project that you were working on, if you don't mind me asking?” Griff asked curiously. “I have to admit, I was intrigued with your sudden interest in these stories. Not that I didn't expect it, mind you. You did manage to make a convincing argument with that thesis of yours.”

 

“It was just a hobby,” Howell replied with a nonchalant wave, not really wanting to discuss his current situation, even with Griff. With Her curse hanging over his head, he didn't want to take any chances.

 

“Bloody hell! If this top secret project of yours is the reason why you disappeared all of a sudden and turned down your professorship, I think I deserve the right to an explanation,” Griff retorted stubbornly.

 

Howell raised an eyebrow at that. “I see that you haven't forgiven me for that either.”

 

It wasn't a secret that Griff had wanted Howell to come on board at Oxford. Because of their chemistry in and out of the Rugby field during their university years, his friend was convinced that they would work together just as well as faculty members of the Classics Department.

 

Howell sometimes wondered for a moment what his life would have been if he chose that road he didn't take many years ago… the road of respectability that Megan wished for him. A nice cushy Fellow position in Oxford University, a townhouse in a respectable neighbourhood, marriage to the first woman he ever truly loved, two children, and possibly a dog…

 

…and a moment later, not at all regretting his decision to choose the life he has now.

 

Nonetheless, his disappearance from his world in order to accept a full-time apprenticeship under Mrs.Pentstemmon was a big blow to the people around him, all of whom had their own expectations of what should have been Howell's passage to greatness. When Howell rang his friend for help earlier that year, Griff never let on his disappointment. But Howell knew it was just a matter of time before Griff confronted him about it. His friend, after all, was the closest person to an older brother to him. In some ways, he was a lot like Megan. Perhaps kinder and a lot more patient, but he was just as imposing as Megan nonetheless.

 

“How are Laura and Jamie?” Howell suddenly asked.

 

“Don't try to change the subject,” Griff scolded in half-indignation, though he seemed perfectly happy to be swayed from the subject matter. “Laura's doing well, and to spread the good news, we're expecting a surprise number two. Jamie's was a bit embarrassed about it at first. But he's almost a teen-ager, what do you expect? Now that the initial shock's over, we're all looking forward to it. So just you know, I'm looking in the market for a godfather. Preferably someone who doesn't disappear from thin air all of the sudden.”

 

Howell laughed noncommittedly. “Congratulations. I'm sure there's someone available in the market for you.”

 

Griff shook his head in defeat with a gracious laugh before taking another swig at from his mug. “To tell you the truth, I'm as nervous as hell to go through this all over again. But fatherhood does have its merits. You should try it sometime.”

 

A wispy, white-haired image glowering at him in that indignant sulky manner he had become comfortably familiar with suddenly flashed in his mind. At once, Howell didn't feel like smiling anymore, as a distant but not unfamiliar feeling, one that he'd rather forget came over him. He drained the contents of his mug in one quick swill as if to wash those feelings away as well.

 

 

/“Long ago, my Angel promised to return to me so I can close my eyes and lay my head to rest on my Angel's lap just like before.”/

 

 

Griff raised an eyebrow upon seeing Howell's reaction to his words. He paused to study Howell in that careful manner of his. “Howell Jenkins in such a mood can only mean that there really is a girl involved. Of course, whether that is a good thing is another story entirely.”

 

Howell shifted uneasily against the bar as he felt his friend's gaze. Griff knew him a little too well for his comfort.

 

“Bloody hell, Jenkins!” Griff exclaimed again, with a shake of his head, looking a bit exasperated as he came to his conclusion. “What did you do this time? You didn't knock up one, did you? Did your sister hear about this?”

 

Howell shot the older man an annoyed look, completely forgetting about keeping his cover low. It was one thing to hear casual acquaintances and gossip-mongers people cast doubt upon his character, it was another to have someone he respected think otherwise. Of course, being reminded of a certain white-haired, nosy woman who shared the same opinion earlier on didn't help making the matter any easier. “It's nothing like that. Why is it that people think the worst of me?”

 

“You brought it upon yourself, my friend,” Griff laughed in complete amusement. “Based on your track record, the main reason you pursued women was out of sport or if you wanted something from them.”

 

“So you would question my integrity simply based on that,” Howell remarked dramatically.

 

“I question your integrity based on a lot of things,” Griff retorted. “But it's usually a girl who lands you into this sort of trouble, anyway. So this research is because of a girl, isn't it?”

 

Howell didn't reply. It was a lot easier to let Griff fall into his own conclusions if Howell wanted to hide something from him. Griff always managed to see through his lies. Thus, Howell motioned for the barkeep to refill his mug instead.

 

“But what good does researching legends and fables do? I'd say the girl is either involved with it as a trade,” Griff rambled idly, “or you're pretending to be some kind of knight in shining armour trying to save a damsel in distress trapped in a curse or something of the like.”

 

/“And I would hear my Angel bend over me to whisper in that warm comforting voice, `Silly Poppet, you don't have to worry anymore'.”/

 

 

Howell almost choked upon hearing that. Again, he was struck at how good his friend was at accurately jabbing at things in the dark. Howell, somehow, managed to keep a neutral expression as he waited for his friend to finish.

 

“Since the latter is unlikely, I'm assuming that this new love interest is someone who works in the field. A teacher! Someone involved with literature…” Griff's voice trailed as he fell in deep thought, before a surprised, then troubled expression crossed his features. He gave the younger man a worried look before continuing. “Jesus, Howell… It's not Lillith, all over again is it? I know she was probably the only woman you were ever serious with… but the woman's a witch! After what she did, a normal man would either hang himself or learn hate women entirely.”

 

Howell frowned, not entirely sure how to take his friend's comment. Even though he had long closed the book from that particular volume of his life, being reminded of it still stung. Even though he hadn't seen that woman in the flesh in ages, she continued to haunt him occasionally in more ways than he wanted to admit

 

“Another witch entirely, I'm afraid,” Howell muttered under his breath.

 

“Somehow, I can't help but feel relieved to hear that,” the older man replied, not hiding the relief in his voice. “For a minute there I thought you'd gotten back together. I was prepared knock some sense into that thick head of yours if you answered differently.”

 

Howell frowned and looked at the other man strangely. It was odd enough that his friend would dig up the memory of that woman at a time like this. It was completely beyond him to what would give Griff the idea that he would even want to be in the same room as his ex. “Whatever caused you to think of that woman all of the sudden?”

 

Griff shrugged as he reached out for another mug of ale. “Before coming here, I passed by Megan's to say hello, and to see if you were there, but no one was home. I thought I saw Lillith across the street. Gave me a scare, she did. Though I could be wrong; I didn't really get a clear look at her face. She was bundled up in a waterproof cape looking all terrified, like the light drizzle would melt her. When I called out to her, she turned at her heels and disappeared.”

 

 

/“And my Angel's gently arms would come around me. Strong but gentle arms that would never let me go again.”/

 

 

Whatever drunken haze that had fogged Howell's mind cleared up instantly upon hearing his friend's comment. A wave of mixed anticipation and terror surged through him as he realized that at least one of his strategies in the game was working the way he planned. He simply prayed that the protection spell he put around the house would hold now that She figured the way around the misdirection spells he put around the neighbourhood. Of course, there was also the complication that if Megan ever caught on that he was using her as bait…

 

Nonetheless, as long as She was not invited inside the house, and Megan and the children stayed safely within the protective circle, the spell should hold. It wasn't that different from the spells he put around to protect his own home. Knowing his sister's suspicious nature, hell would freeze over before she'd invite a stranger in her house. Micheal and Sophie were witnesses to Megan's “warm welcomes”.

 

It was actually at that time, just a few days before, that he had the shock of his life. That precise moment he saw who this so-called English teacher of his nephew was and realized how uncomfortably close She was to getting him. It terrified him at the realization that She had figured out this much about him. At the same time, he was angry at himself for unwittingly allowing Her to put his family in danger. Sophie and Michael's presence that day was the only thing that kept his focus and prevented him from making his move prematurely.

 

But now…the fact that Her fire demon was staking out his sister's home also meant the She was getting desperate. A small twinge of hope pushed through his anxieties at that thought. This may very well be his last night of freedom, but it is nonetheless still one more night to find salvation.

 

“Griff,” Howell began in a serious tone, “if Tam Lin was real, what do you think would have happened if Janet had let go?”

 

Griff gave his friend a startled look, before his forehead furrowed in thought. “Tam Lin? Hmmm… that's tough. Girl meets Boy. Boy cons Girl into a tryst. Boy and Girl eventually fall in love. Girl gets pregnant and disowned by Father. Girl tries to get together with Boy, but Boy is under the spell of a wicked Fairie Queen. Girl saves Boy with the power of true love. Boy and Girl live happily ever after. I suppose if Janet was unsuccessful with her rescue, Tam Lin would have returned to the Fairie Queen and Janet would have been another statistic in the single mothers census of the time.”

 

Howell couldn't help frowning in disapproval. As brilliant as Griff was with his own profession, the man simply had no ability to stretch his imagination.

 

Seeing Howell's reaction, Griff let out an apologetic laugh. “You're the one gifted in these things. Why don't you just tell me the obsession with this story?”

 

Howell made another non-committal shrug.

 

Griff snorted in annoyance, but indulged his friend's request nonetheless. “Regardless how events in a story really happened, how the story ends will greatly depend on the storyteller anyway. The popular version has Janet saving Tam Lin from the Fairy Queen with the power of her love and the strength of her will. If you want a `what if' version, you can just as easily make it up. Yours will probably be even entertainingly raunchier than the original text...”

 

“It doesn't really work that way,” Howell mumbled pensively.

 

“That never stopped you before,” Griff countered. And without missing a beat, he shook his head again in exasperation as a thought dawned on him. “So metaphorically speaking… Tam Lin got himself in trouble and the Janet he chose doesn't seem to be very reliable saviour.”

 

 

/“You will be kind to grant me that wish, won't you? My Angel…”/

 

 

“I'm afraid to say,” Howell couldn't help murmuring in reply as he forced a smile through a pained expression, “that Her Janet this time around, is probably the worst of the lot.”

 

Once again, Griff stared at his friend in surprise. He waited, silently encouraging the younger man to continue, but Howell simply down the remaining contents of his mug, looking genuinely miserable without his usual theatrics. Griff motioned to the bartender for another mug of ale, before turning his attention back to his friend.

 

“I'd be damned if I ever understand the things you get yourself involved with and I think I probably wouldn't want to anyway,” Griff sighed in a defeated tone as he put a fresh pint in front of his friend. “I'm not a literary expert either. I can't explain it in the impressive flowery language you're so fond of using. But what I do know is this… Tam Lin's ballad, and all stories like it all have happy endings despite the direst of situations because it's supposed to give hope to the hopeless. Well, true love may have been Tam Lin's salvation, like they said in the story… but I think what really gave Janet the power to hold on was all because of desperation… and the innate human desire to survive.”

 

Howell frowned once again, not quite understanding where his friend was heading toward, but kept silent.

 

“Far greater than true love is the human instinct to protect its young. More likely than not, Janet probably did it for the sake of her unborn child than the romantic notions of true love,” Griff explained, looking rather pleased with himself. “As long as Janet had someone very important to protect… no matter what the evil Fairie Queen attempts… she will remain invincible.”

 

Howell stared at his friend with mixed emotions, as if he were caught between wonderment at his friend's words of wisdom and utmost gratitude. Feeling his old demeanour quickly returning, he laughed one of the most genuine laugh he'd had for the longest time to freely flow from him. Without missing a beat, he immediately climbed atop the bar counter and raised his glass to a toast, calling for attention.

 

“To old friends and future victories,” Howell bellowed loudly as he raised his mug towards his friend's direction before downing it in one long swill, much to the appreciation of the rest of the Rugby Club, who very boisterously hooted and cheered their approval.

 

It was only then that Howell finally allowed the fleeting moments of familiarity to give him comfort as he consciously pushed back the traps She had intricately woven.

 

 

 

/“Silly Poppet...”/

 

 

End of Act I. The Angel

To be continued…

 

AUTHOR'S SQUAWK

 

First of all, thanks to Sunoko for having the patience to beta this for me! And thank you to all of you for staying with this story and giving your support despite my very slow updates. Real life stuff and crap keeps happening. My life is so crazy right now, it's not funny. Anyways, comments and criticisms, just click the review button. ^_^.

Ja!
Ina-chan