Chapter 12

For a Pessimist, He's Pretty Optimistic

Sophie saw the bed sheet propel into the air before she had even registered the wind tugging the it free from her hands. Blinding in surprise, she watched as the white fabric bounced and fluttered in the air before snagging on to Turniphead's frame. She laughed as the scarecrow struggled to untangle itself from the wayward sheet and then went over to rescue the poor creature. "The more you move like that, the harder it'll be to get it off." With gentle hands, Sophie pulled the bed sheet off of Turniphead, eliciting a cheerful response, at least Sophie interpreted the odd combination of jumps and head bobbing Turniphead did as cheerful. "Your welcome," she said with a laugh.

"Sophie!" Markl cried as he pinned one of Howl's shirts to the clothesline Turniphead had strung up earlier, "I'm done putting up the laundry you gave me.

Sophie surveyed the long line of clothes that were now hanging from the taut wire. Markl had done a superb job, she was quite impressed actually. Quickly pinning the bed sheet she held to a clothesline, she proceeded to descend while holding her skirts up down the gentle grass slope between herself and Markl. She wasn't quite yet used to the new dresses, almost everything about them being foreign to her New York sensibilities, but she was slowly acclimating.

"Good job, Markl," She said when she made it to his side.

"Are we done yet?" Markl asked, picking up his now empty basket.

Sophie looked up towards the castle. It almost looked like it was napping as it stood immobile upon the verdant knoll. After reading the royal invitation, Howl had politely asked Sophie if she wouldn't mind going outside and doing the laundry, though Sophie had known that he was really asking if she could give him a moment alone. Markl had volunteered to help, because he knew his master needed some space or simply because he wanted an excuse to go outside Sophie did not know. Nonetheless, she appreciated the gesture. It had been an hour since she had gone out and she had no clue as to what Howl was up to. She wanted to check in and see if he was alright, but she also didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Heavens no," she finally said to the small boy, "We still have to hang all the bedding. So far only one sheet has made it up," She said with a small flourish towards the bed sheet she had almost lost, "Unless if you want to sleep on a bare mattress tonight."

Markl vigorously shook his head before scampering towards the basket of bedding. Sophie smiled warmly at his retreating figure, though concern for Howl's well being still wormed through her stomach. I hope you're okay, She thought to herself as she cast the monstrous castle a longing look.

Howl reread the invitation for the seventh time. "It has to be a trap."

"Eh."

"What do you mean, 'eh'? Why else would Sulliman go to the trouble of preparing an entire ball when she has a war to attend to? Have you even read the invitation, Calcifer?"

"You've read it aloud at least four times already," Calcifer grumbled, but Howl read it out loud again anyway.

" 'You are formally invited to a Masquerade ball held by His Majesty, The King, in honor of the witches and wizards of Ingary who make this country the glorious nation that it is. The ball will be held the evening of the 30th. We do hope you can make it. Feel free to bring an escort.' "

"Yes, yes, it's most likely a trap, okay? Will you calm down already? Your heart is pounding up a storm," Calcifer snapped.

Howl sighed before plopping unceremoniously down on the stool in front of the fire demon, willing his heart to slow. He placed a hand over where his heart should be. Despite its absence, he felt the steady beat of a strong heart thudding against his chest. He was not sure if he felt phantom heartbeats or if something was actually physically in his chest acting as a heart, but due to the fact that Calcifer could feel the same rhythm of heartbeats Howl thought he felt, he was inclined to accept the latter as an explanation. After all, even a wizard would die without blood pumping through the body.

"Calcifer, what should I do?"

Calcifer raised his fiery eyebrows in surprise. Howl rarely listened to his advice, let alone willingly request it. Howl, however, was at a loss about how to approach the situation. "Just go. You can handle Sulliman, and besides," He added, "You have to answer the King's summons anyway – might as well do it at a ball."

Howl Heaved another sigh. When it came to magical ability, Calcifer was right, he was more than capable of handling Sulliman. But psychologically?

A memory suddenly flashed in his mind from when he was a young boy. "You will not leave this room until you cast the transformation spell properly." Sulliman's stern voice rang through his head like the shrill shriek of a hawk as it attacked its prey. Howl remembered how she tossed him like a ragdoll into that dark, empty room when he failed to cast a spell properly one too many times.

"But Madam Sulliman – "

"No buts," she said coolly, "When you successfully cast the spell, you may leave." She briskly left the room and shut the door firmly behind her. He heard the click of a key turning a lock followed by footsteps walking away from the door.

Howl looked around, as though he expected the room to have changed in some way since his last visit, but it was the same four bare, windowless walls, the same hard wood floor, the same oppressive darkness that seemed to suffocate him, and it all inspired the same feeling of fear it had all the other times he had been locked inside. Howl hadn't been afraid of the dark until the first time Sulliman had locked him away for failing to cast a levitation spell. He had been kept in the dark room, alone, for an entire week. She had fed him, of course. A tray filled with a perfectly nutritious meal would magically appear in the room at certain times and then disappear as soon as he finished, but she allowed no one to speak to him and essentially kept him isolated.

He hated it. He hated her. But most of all, he hated the quiet darkness that seemed to consume him. It did exactly what she hoped; it motivated him to figure out the spell, but he never felt joy in his success. He was just relieved to finally have escaped the overwhelmingly still blackness.

He shuddered again and tried to keep his breathing even, knowing that if he began to have a panic attack, no one would make sure he was alright, he had learned that the hard way. No, it was just him, the emptiness, and that horrible, horrible darkness that made him feel like he was drowning, like someone was squeezing the oxygen out of his lungs, and at that moment, like many other times, he wished there was just a little light in the room, just a tad, because he could deal with everything else like the claustrophobia and the isolation if it just wasn't so dark for it was truly the dark that made him tremble with fear, there weren't even shadows to keep him company and he just really, REALLY wanted to leave and –

Howl shook the memory away. He didn't like thinking about it. The woman terrified him and Calcifer knew it. "I can't face her alone."

"Then bring Sophie with you," Calcifer picked up a small log resting by his spot in the hearth, "Isn't this great? Sophie left these out for me!"

"Calcifer, that's brilliant!" Howl said, springing to his feet. How hadn't he thought of that himself?

"The logs? Yeah I know – "

"Not the logs, the Sophie idea." Sophie always managed to put him to ease. He couldn't explain, not even a little, why she had such an affect on him, but nonetheless it was exceedingly helpful for his current predicament. Yes, he could even face Sulliman with Sophie by his side for support – at least he thought he could. "I'm off!" Howl called to his fiery friend as he descended the steps to the door.

"Where are you going?" Calcifer asked with a voice that suggested he wasn't all that curious.

"I'm going to get Sophie a dress for the ball, of course!" Howl exclaimed, turning the dial to the red portal, "I'll be back in an hour or two." He shut the door loudly behind him, and was off.

Sophie hesitantly placed her hand on the castle door. Markl was still hanging laundry, but Sophie had decided that she had to see Howl and make sure he was okay. However, she felt her resolve to check on him weakening. She really did not want to disturb him, if he really just needed to be alone. She took a deep breath. This is no time to second guess yourself, Sophie! You've made up your mind to see him, now go! And with that, she opened the door and stepped inside.

"Howl!" she called out as she bounded up the stairs."I really need to talk… to… you..." She realized as she spoke that he wasn't in the room.

"You just missed him, Sophie," Calcifer said, "He just left."

"Where did he go?" Sophie asked.

"Kingsbury," Calcifer replied.

Sophie sighed. If only she hadn't hesitated, than maybe she would have caught him. "Is he alright?"

Calcifer cackled. "As alright as he can be."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

Calcifer raised an eyebrow, an odd look on the fire demon, "He hasn't told you?"

"Told me what?"

Calcifer looked genuinely surprised. "About," he said slowly, "The curse on him."

Sophie felt about a hundred different things at once, but she was primarily confused. There was a curse on Howl? Did it have anything to do with the Witch of the Waste? Why hadn't he told her? Now that she thought about it, there were a lot of reasons why he wouldn't have told her, they barely knew each other. But we kissed! Sophie thought to herself, though she supposed kissing doesn't always equal trust. But I trust him, and she did, she never would have shared all her scars with him if she hadn't. Well, you haven't shown him everything yet. She rubbed one of the many pocked cigar burns on her arm through her sleeve. Nonetheless, the thought of Howl not trusting her left a sour taste in her mouth. But she didn't mention any of this to Calcifer. She simply said, "What curse?"

"It's technically a curse on us both," Calcifer explained, seemingly oblivious to her inner turmoil.

"What do you mean?" Sophie asked, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew precisely what he meant.

"I can't say much more than there's some thing," he practically spit out the word, "between us, and it keeps me stuck in this castle," he added grumpily.

Sophie considered the demon's words. It was quite possible that he was somehow trying to rick her at Howl's expense. She wasn't quite sure what Howl and Calcifer's relationship was, and it was this lack of knowledge that made her hesitant to help the demon. But somewhere within the recesses of her unconscious, she knew that Calcifer not only was telling the truth, but that it was imperative that she broke the curse on them. But why? She wondered, Was there a curse on Howl in the movie or book? She thought back to the story, but it was almost as though someone had covered her memories with gauze; she could make out blurry lines and shadows of details but she couldn't quite see a clear picture.

"What will happen to him if I don't try to break the curse?"

Calcifer became uncharacteristically quiet. Sophie found his sudden reticence entirely unnerving. "I can't tell you," he finally said, "But I have a feeling you'll find out for yourself soon enough."

Sophie furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, but before she could ask Calcifer for a better explanation, the front door suddenly opened, revealing a grinning Howl holding a pink garment box. "Howl, you're back!"

"Yes indeed," He said with a bright smile. It was clear he was in a much better frame of mind than earlier. "And I have a question for you."

"Yes?" Sophie asked curiously.

"How would you feel about coming with me to the royal ball?"

Sophie's jaw practically dropped. He was going to go after all? What had caused this change of heart? He had been ignoring the King's summons like the plague and now he was willingly going to a ball hosted by the very person he was avoiding? Though peculiar, Sophie was intrigued by the idea of going to ball with him. The idea was both terrifying and exciting, and she found this delicious combination hard to refuse. "Of course I'll go with you, Howl," She said with an equally bright smile.

"Wonderful," Howl exclaimed, "It's tonight. I bought you a dress so go on upstairs and try it on. We haven't a lot of time, but if it doesn't fit or if it isn't to your liking we can get you a new dress." There was a glimmer in his eyes that suggested he doubted either would be necessary

"Alright," She said slowly as he handed her the garment box, which evidently held the dress she was to try on. "Where should I – "

"You can use my room. Oh, and do come down when you're done changing."

"Okay." Sophie said, nodding dumbly, before walking up the stairs to his bedroom. She was very curious as to what kind of dress he had picked out for her, but she kept her itching fingers from prying open the box until she had reached her destination. She set the box on the bed before gently removing the top.

She gasped and gingerly trailed her fingers done the fabric. It was a strapless dress with a sweet heart neckline. The skirt was separated into a top layer of satin pleating with a poofy, tulle-like material beneath. However, what made the dress so beautiful and so shocking and different was the unusual color. The rich, dark indigo of the dress contrasted beautifully with the silver flecks that were somehow embedded into the material. It looked like the maker of the dress had cut pieces of the night sky and sewed it into a beautiful gown.

Folded beside the dress was a pair of black, satin gloves. She picked them up and found that they would most likely cut off right above of her elbows. Had he bought these gloves because he thought they would match the dress well or because… She looked down at her forearms. They were covered by her sleeves, but she knew every scar, every inch of the marred skin like the back of her hand. But he couldn't have known, Sophie reasoned, It must be a coincidence.

And then she remembered the slime incident. And she remembered how she had only been wearing a towel. And she remembered how he had bathed her. And suddenly, it was more likely than not that he had seen the scars.

And he hadn't said anything. He had respected her privacy. He had somehow knew that she wasn't ready to talk about it and was simply waiting. She felt something warm blossom within her at this realization.

But now was not the time to think about that. She had to figure out how to get on the dress. Judging by the size of it, she had feeling this would not be easy to accomplish alone. Let's get started.

"What are you doing?" Calcifer suddenly asked.

Howl turned curiously towards the demon. "What do you mean?"

"With Sophie. What are you doing? I've never seen you act like this about a woman before."

Howl raised his eyebrows in surprise. "How unlike you Calcifer to inquire about – " he was about to sya love life but he was scared of making assumptions when it came to Sophie " – my personal life." That seemed innocuous enough.

Calcifer didn't say anything at first. As though he was considering what he was about to carefully unusual behavior for the usually thoughtless demon. "I like Sophie, she leaves out wood for me and she's nice, I just don't want you to hurt her, or drive her away," Calcifer muttered beneath his breath in a rare moment of vulnerability.

Howl was shocked to say the least and he didn't really know what to say. To say he scarcely understood his feelings regarding Sophie would be an understatement. For a moment he wondered if this all would be easier if he had his heart, but he quickly dismissed the impossibility. There was no point lingering on a thought like that. "Don't worry Calcifer, I – "

"What do you guys think?" Howl turned his head immediately towards the woman coming down the stairs in a flurry of skirts. Sophie had managed to get on the dress far more quickly than he had anticipated, and he hoped he hadn't overheard any of his and Calcifer's conversation.

"Sophie, you look," His voice got caught on his throat. He was about to say she looked lovely, and she did, but when he looked, really looked, he realized that wasn't a strong enough adjective. She looked magnificent. Howl was of the opinion that Sophie always looked beyond beautiful, but there were moments when her beauty would sweep him off his feet more than usual, and this was one of those times. The dress by itself was a masterpiece and, quite frankly, easily capable of overtaking the wearer. Sophie, however, wore the dress with such poise that it was clear that the dress was not wearing her. Her long hair hung in gentle waves, framing her blushing face. He blinked. Why was she blushing? Perhaps because you're gawking at her like an idiot. "You look absolutely stunning, Sophie."

"Thank you," She said with a smile. She did a small, excited twirl. "This dress is so beautiful, I like it quite a lot, Howl." She beamed brightly, "Thank you."

My god, she's so adorable, Howl thought to himself. "I'm glad you like it. It's missing one thing though."

Sophie looked at him with a puzzled expression. "And what's that?"

"Well," Howl said, "It is a masquerade ball, which means," He gave his hand a fluid twist and a silver mask appeared, "You must wear a mask."

She gasped in surprise. "How did you…?"

Howl gave her a small grin, but didn't say anything. He found Sophie's constant amazement with magic incredibly endearing. He handed her the mask. "Is it to your liking?"

He watched her examine the mask. It was made of metallic silver wire intricately welded into swirling, whorled patterns. It looked quite delicate, but he knew that it was far sturdier than it appeared. "It's beautiful, Howl, I love it," She said in awe.

"I was hoping you would," He said delighted.

"When do we have to leave for the ball?" She asked.

"In a couple hours," He responded. "I have a couple more errands to run before than, but that shouldn't take too long. Calcifer," He added, suddenly remembering the demon's presence, "I'll be back in several hours. Do you need me to pick up anything while I'm out?" The fire demon gave him a withering look to which Howl laughed. "Alright, I'll see you later then. Goodbye Sophie."

"Goodbye Howl," She said brightly. Her excitement for the ball was rubbing off of him. It almost made him forget about the fact that it was being held by the King and that Sulliman would almost certainly harass him at some point during the ball, but not quite.

It'll be okay, he said to himself as he exited the castle and back into Kingsbury. Sophie will be with you, and everything will be okay. And to his surprise, he found himself actually believing that everything will be okay, that he might even enjoy himself despite being in the presence of some of his least favorite people. Sophie what have you done? He smiled to himself as he walked along the busy streets. You've made an optimist of me.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello everyone! I'm sorry that took a little more time than usual. College is a thing. I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter! I really enjoyed exploring Howl's past and the actual curse/connection he and Calcifer have, and I'd love to hear some feedback on what you thought of my take on it. The title was based on Paramore's song "For a Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic." It's a great song and I would highly recommend giving it a listen if you like rock/alternative music. Anyway, leave a review please! I really love hearing what you all have to say!

Until next time 3