Disclaimer: Howl's Moving Castle, its characters and other associated names, etc., are property of Diana Wynne Jones and Studio Ghibli, not me.

Questions Answered

The stillness of the early autumn night air hung about them in their bedroom – once his filthy, dust-laden bedroom – in the aftermath of their first night alone. Neither moved from where they lay on the sheets, which had been freshly laundered that morning. They were too tired to change position straightaway. Only their heavy breathing broke the silence.

"You never answered my question," the man said hoarsely, voice slightly muffled due to his face being partly pressed into the mattress.

"Hmm? What question?"

The man snorted but held his tongue all the same. It wouldn't do to ruin his wedding night with sarcasm and thus upset the woman laying to his right. "When we defeated the Witch of the Waste and her demon. I told you that I'd been hoping you were that pretty girl I'd seen last May Day. Why were you so scared when I approached you?" He propped himself up on an elbow and leaned over to press his lips to the woman's forehead.

The woman was really no more than a girl of eighteen, at least five years his junior, perhaps younger. She sighed contentedly as she felt his fingers tangle themselves in her long auburn hair while his lips touched her forehead, then her cheeks, then her nose before gently claiming her lips. When he leaned away, she reached up to place her hands on either side of his handsome face. He heeded her unspoken request and remained still. "Fanny set me to trimming hats. I didn't do much else from that for months. I suppose I'd become an invalid by the time the festival rolled round. Those rumors you'd sent Michael round with about that time were enough to scare anyone."

"You were scared that you'd run into Wizard Howl, and lo and behold, you did!" The man, Howl, chuckled good-naturedly. "Really, Sophie. You have interesting luck." He shifted until his upper body hovered above hers, his weight resting on his elbows.

Sophie had long since released him and instead began stroking her new husband's hair as he caressed her face with the backs of his fingers. "Is it good or bad luck that I've got?"

Howl smiled before leaning down to kiss his bride again. "I'd say," he whispered between kisses, "that you've got some of the best luck in the world." He smiled against her lips as she giggled into the kiss. Clearly, she was entertaining the idea that he was stroking his own ego. "Now, now. Aren't I allowed to boost your self-esteem?" He cut off whatever remark she might've been ready to make with another kiss, this one long and lingering. Sophie forgave him. She loved him (goodness only knows why), and he loved her. That was really all that mattered.

AN: This does not totally fit in with the movie. I finished reading Diana Wynne Jones' original novel for the zillionth time the other afternoon (October 14, 2008) and this just came to mind as I read the ending. Thanks for reading!