Howl's Moving Castle Fan Fiction ❯ Flawless Mask ❯ Her Point of View ( Chapter 2 )

 

 

Howl continues to move me. Each line of animation is crisp. Each dubbed word is awe-inspiring and perfect. Each voice actor I approve of. Hell, we know Emily Mortimer is hot. And her voice is too.

Disclaimer: penpaninu does not claim to own Howl's Moving Castle, anime or novel.

 

“Her Point of View”

by penpaninu

 

 

He is such a child, my darling husband. Many girls may have once dreamed of wedding such a mysterious man and quite the handsome wizard, but they went for his outward charm, the mystique his reputation held for the fluttering hearts of foolish young women. Through being old I got to know his heart, literally fluttering in the bowels of Calcifer's heat, and I grew to love him so.

Howl leans against the railing of our now flying castle, his shoulder-length dark hair flowing in the breeze. He poses almost for me, his delicate chin on his fist and I pause to admire his pleasing physique, the trim lines of his fit body, the trace of his slim hips behind his belt and tunic. His legs were long and lean, and his eyes bright blue with mischief and wonder. I sigh, feeling the first flutterings I felt seeing the beauty of such a mysterious reputation up close. Howl for all of his primping in the bathroom when I first got to the castle, truly did not know his own beauty and worth, I thought. He sought to make himself more handsome, when he already was, and he hadn't realized this.

 

Just the small trace of his delicate fingertips against his cheek, or the mere parting of his lips were enough for me to know his worth. He needn't whisk me away or steal my heart figuratively. He held it in his affections and his heart now beating strongly in his breast.

 

“Howl,” I call, picking my way out onto the high platform in the sky. Howl turns from the railing and smiles so kindly for me.

“Sophie. Careful now, watch your step. I couldn't bear for anything to happen to you,” He croons, holding one smooth hand out. Like so many times before, I take it, and stand by his side looking down at the world we fly over in our travels. Laughter from Markl, and barking from Hein we hear across the way in the castle's garden courtyard. They could see us if they chose to look up, but we don't mind. Even when Howl tilts my chin up with his thumb and leans to kiss me, I don't mind the audience.

 

It is only when our erstwhile child and pupil calls out a mushy statement followed by mocking retching do we part and smile into each others close proximity. Howl chuckled and pressed his brow against me, under the wide brim of my summer hat.

“Are you feeling well?” he whispered and I nod, my face bright red from the implications of such a simple question. Howl, for all of his apparent womanizing in the past, held a child's prospective of relationships even when dubbed as a playboy. He had never pressed his body against another's, never been inside another girl. And I was the lucky woman to have all of him when we exchanged hearts and vows. Wizardry has its advantages for finding knowledge and when his heart returned granted him the longings of the flesh for me, Howl studied almost endlessly to know what to do, how to do it and when.

I suppose I was flattered, but I had not frame of reference. I knew only him and welcomed him with fervent longing. My darling feared I would not want him unless he had all the facts, but they say experience heighten the learning. This proved the case, shall I mention politely, into the activities of our marriage bed. I fear my husband would find me wanting more than he could give, but when it was his heart…it was enough.

 

The initiation into true adulthood seemed to awaken a fierce fire in my Howl. He would find times throughout the day to touch me, kiss me or hold me. Sometimes he wanted to embrace me sweetly. Sometimes he wanted me with raw passion and I reciprocated his moods with longing of my own. We were rapidly learning more about each other and ourselves in each caress and touch given freely and we reveled in it.

Howl, also was blessed with the strong paternal pride most felt as they advanced in age. He doted on Markl with stubborn tenacity, almost to the boy's detriment. But Markl had loved Howl long before his ascension into manhood, and accepted his master's queer new affections with open arms and sly words. My erstwhile son loved us both with a heart as bright as Calcifer's flames, and when he told me we were a family, this was what he meant.

 

Howl holds me from behind and follows my swaying gait back along the railing down to the courtyard. Markl called out happily to us and bent down to tug on Hein's ears. The small dog took the abuse with noble affection and his snort was the only inclination to how he felt to being treated like a toy. Markl reached down to hug him and Hein panted. I blush as my husband's presence indicates his playful mood and he nips at the side of my neck as we walk along.

 

“Husband, they'll see,” I giggle as we near the courtyard. Howl chuckles against me and spans my waist with his hands. I was as trim and young as ever, even with hair as silver as starlight, and Howl was ever fascinated with how I showed him my true self. He showed me his, I thought as I angle an arm up and behind my head to clutch his neck. My fingers sifted through dark hair as black as a crows. Howl finally decided to stop hiding himself behind beauty, and showed me his true self as well. Granted, he was already handsome, but he had hated his dark hair for the vast majority of his life. I much preferred him black as a crow instead of blond as the sun. Even that horrible carrot-color that one mishap in the bath created was more preferable than blond to me.

How my husband finally grew up, in the natural shade of his hair, the way he took good care of us, and in his personal belongings. Gone were the childish trappings and charms of his bedroom, housed to suit his wife as well as his new view of the world. I decorated with simple furniture of dark tones to complement his dark hair and my silver. Howl kept his old clutter to a minimum kept only in the study he shared with Markl, the small charms scattered about gave a look at a man trying to hold onto at least a piece of a childhood gone.

 

Howl still holds me from behind as we march into the sitting room. It looks out onto the garden courtyard where Markl and Hein wrestle and tussle in the grass. Snoring sounded from the table where the Witch of the Waste napped and Howl shakes his head, his long hair tickling my neck.

 

“She's fast asleep. Tell me you don't want me close, Sophie,” Howl smiles, sure in my love for him. Most people hold themselves back from truly giving all of them to another, and as such some parts are never revealed. Not so for us, we who had trials of the heart that spanned from Howl's childhood to now. I caress his long dark tresses longingly.

 

“I do, Howl, but she could wake. You know she is quite perceptive,” I pay a compliment to the powerless witch living with our family. Where once I would have paid her back in kind, now I doted on her like the grandmother of our ragtag company. The once Witch of the Waste needed us and in turn, she became a rather sweet and helpless old lady in her dependency on us.

 

Howl nods against my neck and slowly releases me. We dance around each other almost as we go about meaningless chores and tasks. The grace of my husband's movements never cease to amaze me and I promise, I try not to swoon at the sincerity of his actions towards me. Sometimes I felt as dumbstruck still as morning one living with him. How beautiful he was, and how kind he was to a seemingly old woman. He knew I was obviously under a spell but let the nature of our adventure see it lifted through.

 

Markl crashes in from the grass and hugs my slim waist affectionately. I sigh happily and run my fingers through his brown hair.

“Markl,” I greet him happily. My boy looks up my body and grins.

 

“Are we having lunch yet? I'm starving, Sophie!” he exclaimed. I laugh and ruffle his cowlick further.

“We shall. Will you wake the Witch? Howl, can you bring that tea here?” I ask with smooth authority. Howl obliges and helps me set the table. The witch opened her eyes and yawned.

 

“Oh my, did I nod off?” she asks politely and Markl helps serve her. Howl holds a chair out for me and presses a kiss to my cheek as I sit. I smile radiantly for my husband and beckon he sit by my side. Howl opens a thick tome, notes falling out of the place marked as he nibbled at a sandwich. I raise an eyebrow as Markl unconsciously follows his example.

 

“Hey! No studies at the lunch table!” I scolded my family. Howl and Markl grinned at me with sheepish expressions and as one unit snapped their thick books shut. Hein barked at the loud snips and begged for a cookie. I pretend not to notice when Markl sneaks him one.

 

End for now

 

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Penpaninue 3/09/06