Aftermath

Author's note and disclaimer:

Reposted by request.

This is based on the book, but with a more mature concept of Howl's courting of young ladies and his moral code. I found Howl's predation on young virgins to be curious and got to thinking about possible causes while also looking into the rocky road of his and Sophie's developing relationship.

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

AFF Warning:
Each chapter should have something citrus flavored, see Chapters for warnings.

AFF Warning: Calcifer xOC, M/F mild lemon, voyeur

000O000

Chapter 5

In which Calcifer learns what it takes to be a man

Within a few hours, a crude metal structure stood in the grass. Howell looked on his welding with pride, Calcifer with horror. “You can't expect me to walk around like a knight from one of your books!” The flame bobbed up and down next to the wizard.

“You worry too much, Cal,” he said, calmly. “First you didn't want to look like Chucky...” He gestured at a naked doll on the ground. “Now you have something against tin cans?” He smiled at the demon who hovered. “A little faith, friend.”

Calcifer looked at Michael who was sprawled on the grass, exhausted. Papers were scattered about, some with scribbles, some with diagrams. The boy picked up one and held it out to the fire. “I think you're supposed to end up looking like this,” he said. The demon moved cautiously toward the flammable notes.

“Oh. That's not so bad,” he said. Looking at Howell, he pointed to the metal man. “So how's this thing gonna become that thing?” His finger got too close to the paper and Michael jerked back the scorched picture.

“Watch out, Cal!” Michael shouted, tamping out the flame.

Howell rolled his eyes and took a deep breath. “With magic, Calcifer. I'm a wizard, it's what I do.”

“Oh.” The demon had the decency to sound chagrined. “Well, it's just...”

“You're excited, I know, but why don't you go back and warm up some water. Sophie should be home soon and I'm sure she'll want to clean something.” Howell picked up a sheet of fabric and began to tear it into strips.

“Yeah. Hey, that's what I came out to tell you,” he said. “She's late.” Both Michael and Howell turned their attention to the fire demon. “And not just a little bit late.”

Summer nights were the best time of the year to Howell. When he was a kid, he loved to stay out playing football or rugby sevens in the neighborhood. The kids would give no thought to time and there'd be a small panic when someone's parent yelled that it was past ten o'clock. Here he'd become one of those adults and still given no thought to how late it was. Surely not yet eight? “Well perhaps she was such a hit, the King and Queen offered her dinner?”

“Speaking of dinner,” Michael said and patted his tummy.

“There's some fruit in there, I think,” Howell said. “Pass me the chalk before you go.” Michael nodded and passed it over, then stayed to watch Howell as he drew a small circle, threw some sand inside it and reached for his pen knife. “Weren't you going to get something?” He looked faintly annoyed at having an audience. Calcifer came close, his heat drawing beads of sweat under Howell's collar.

“I know this one, Howl. Let me do it!” Michael gave the fire demon a wide berth and came around to look at the circle. “How come you're not doing the flashy one?”

“Looking for Sophie?” Calcifer asked.

“No,” Howell said, pulling a worn map out of his jacket pocket. “I'm looking for my ring.” He lay the map down on the sand, using some to anchor the edges.

“You mean Sophie's ring,” the fire demon said in a voice that sounded faintly like 'I told you so.'

“Weren't you two going inside?” Howell ran the knife along his little finger, making sure there was blood on the blade, and tossed it into the circle. It arched up and landed on the inset for Kingsbury. “There, is everyone happy? Go on inside and get a cold dinner, maybe a salad or something,” he said and popped the finger into his mouth.

“Nicer words were never spoken,” Calcifer said as Michael nodded and ran to the door. Howell finished tearing strips out of his sheets and dunked them in a vat of nasty smelling green slime.

The rest of the evening proceeded nicely and finally Howell had Michael go call Calcifer. “We're ready for you to give it a go,” the boy called from the doorway.

“I'm a bit worried,” the fire demon said as he bobbed alongside Michael.

“That's natural,” Howell answered.

“No, about Sophie! This thing...” He stopped where he was, stunned. “Uh... Howl? You told me to have faith, but... it's naked and... it has those dangley bits...” His blue face flushed purple as he looked at his prototype body.

“It still needs work, but once you're inside it, I think the details will smooth out,” Howell said. He and Michael held their breath while Calcifer appraised it. The metal structure stood on top of a collection of symbols and the doll, now decorated with dotted lines and outfitted with a crude clay model of 'dangley bits' was lying on top of a similar series of drawings. Howell smiled a semi-crazed grin. “Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained, as they say.” He squinted at the sky. There was still light, but the sun had gone down unnoticed. “Huh,” he said and looked over to the circle of sand near the papers. Michael and Calcifer seemed to follow his train of thought. To stop them from asking, Howell shouted, “First things first! Calcifer, see if you can inhabit that metal model.”

The fire demon bobbed toward it. “I'm not sure how,” he said. Calcifer moved all around it, looking for any opening he could use.

“Stretch yourself out, put down some legs and walk inside it,” Howell called. “No, not that way. Walk around it so you face forward. Give it a try... Yes! You got it!” One second the fire was standing upright on his weak legs and the next the sculpture moved, just a touch.

“Okay, this... this is weird,” the demon's voice came out of the prototype altered. Howell watched the chest rise and fall with the effort of breathing. Its fabric covered frame began to look more like skin, although a faint outline of the damask stripes were there and the color was closer to white than would be healthy for a human. Howell wasn't much of a sculptor, but he'd worked hard to make the face at least attractive. With Calcifer's spirit inside it, the face edged closer to handsome. Yellow yarn hair took on texture and a pale blond color that in this twilight looked green. Howell felt an edge of envy as he saw chest hair sprout; he'd always been sensitive about his mostly smooth chest. The form shrank a few inches, but he was still tall. Howell made notes of the things to improve when Calcifer burned through this model.

“Can you move?” Michael chimed in. He was looking at Calcifer with a combination of horror and pride. Howell imagined his face to have a similar look. It was one thing to imagine such a thing, an artificial shell to house a demon, and quite another to see it work. When Calcifer picked up his right arm, the wizard expected to hear a clank from the insulating metal, but while the motion looked jerky, the creature seemed to be made of flesh and bone... or at least a facsimile thereof.

“Whoa,” Calcifer called when one of his legs moved. “This takes some getting used to. How do you guys make it look so simple?”

Howell laughed. “You've never watched a baby, Cal. I'm afraid it takes practice.” He looked forward to going for walks with his friend. Calcifer had never been out in the garden, for example. Not as a human, not as someone who could walk around without scorching everything. Who could smell the flowers... “Cal, you can hear through that thing, do you smell?”

The demon moved his head down toward his shoulder. “Yeah, terrible!”

Howell rolled his eyes at the old joke, but Michael didn't seem to notice it. Calcifer had years of access to Howell's mind and all the silly jokes were stored loosely there. “Hmm, run through the other senses, then get dressed. Michael, get Calcifer something to eat, let's see if it can handle that. Those clothes should do,” he pointed to a stack of his old clothes, a few years out of date.

“I'm a 'he' not 'it.'” Calcifer said.

“Obviously,” Howell smirked. “You'll thank me for that later.” He pulled out his map and knife. His pinkie still bore an angry red line, but as it was the most expendable, he slashed again smearing blood. Same result. Howell spoke around his hurting finger, “Still in Kingsbury? Do you think she'll spend the night there?”

“Oooh, yeah, that feels nice,” Calcifer's words were barely audible over Michael's sudden protests of “Gross! Stop that! Not in front of me!”

Howell laughed. “So you've got all of the senses working? Good. Michael's right though, don't do that in front of others.”

Calcifer blushed a light blue. It made the print a bit more visible, but was otherwise still attractive on his face. “Howl, I don't know how you ever get anything done with something like this to play with! And it's right here all the time?” He pointed at Michael, saying, “No wonder you do this so much.” The fire demon smiled to embarrass the teenager. His pointed teeth gave the smile a feral cast. Howell made a mental note to fix that for the next model. Michael's blush was bright red and he stopped helping Calcifer into his clothes.

A spell guarding the house warned Howell of an approaching carriage. The ward was clear, it was Sophie. He looked back to his penknife, still quivering in the sand. Kingsbury. There was no mistaking it. His heart sank and he rushed into the house to see if he was right.

Howell took a deep breath before opening the front door. Horses stamped, tired from the journey. “Sophie, darling,” he said as the attendant opened the carriage door. She looked breathtaking, but he couldn't let himself be distracted, he had to know. “Give me your hand. Let me help you down.” He fairly pushed the footman out of the way. There was a gold band on her hand. His heart felt like his knife had been pushed straight through it. She smiled at him and he set her safely on the ground and tipped the men. She carried a bag, no doubt filled with reward money. He felt no joy and wondered if he ever would again.

Her eyes were shining and she gave him a hug as soon as she was over the threshold. “Oh, Howl, it was so beautiful!” She set the bag on the table and spun around, still enjoying her new dress. “There were so many people there and Lettie and Mrs. Fairfax were invited for taking care of the dog of course and they're so in love! Lettie and Ben, of course, not Mrs. Fairfax.” As she talked and moved, Sophie took down her hair. Howell couldn't help but react to her beauty and charm. His mind could worry later; his body demanded action. Howell moved to her, taking her in his arms and kissing her with a passion that surprised both of them. His hands took fistfuls of her hair, pressing her head closer to his. His lips and tongue spoke silently of desperation and he fought the need to slam her against a wall and claim her fully. She sighed when his mouth left hers. “I missed you too, Howl,” she said. And yet she'd tossed away his ring?

Howell lifted her left hand, black hair covering the hurt in his green eyes. He didn't trust himself to say anything, but guilt crept up her cheeks. “Oh,” she said. “Yes.” Sophie looked away. “Ben suggested that as a placeholder. Just while he... I'm sorry, but he wanted to make sure... that is, we thought you might have...”

Howell could imagine the whole scene. Sophie was far too nice to understand why Wizard Suliman wanted to know about the ring, how it was made and from what. She'd be proud and more than happy until perhaps Lettie worried aloud about an enchantment. Sophie would admit that there had been one and Suliman would offer to check it for her. Someone would point out that they'd notice its absence and Suliman would offer to construct a similar one. And that was the optimistic scenario, not counting in the chance that Sophie could've knowingly handed it over, laughing at him. Damn their meddling!

As Howell was about to let his anger speak for him, the door to the yard opened and Calcifer entered, followed quickly by Michael. He held his emotions in check, interested to see what she made of the exotic look Calcifer sported. Howell watched as they locked eyes, her gray ones examining his light brown, almost golden ones. Howell was prticularly proud of how well the eyes captured Calcifer's true nature. He looked between them both, slightly unnerved at how long they were staring at one another. The demon seemed relieved once he spotted the ring on her hand.

“Oh good,” he said. “So she didn't lose it. Hello Sophie.” He smiled at her discomfort, sharp teeth showing.

Michael mouthed the name behind Calcifer's back and she looked to the hearth, then back to the man. “Calcifer?” She pulled her hand away from Howell, or rather, he let her pull away, a plan forming in his mind. All this emotional strain, this honesty was wearing on him. At least he'd get a chance for some good, old fashioned lying.

When he paid attention again, Sophie was hugging Calcifer and laughing at his awkward movements. He felt a touch of anger at how easily she touched the demon. “As much as I hate interrupting,” Howell said. “I believe that there is business to attend to. Sophie?” At the stern tone in his voice, she turned back, still smiling. “This phony ring you're wearing, did Wizard Suliman make it for you?”

Both Calcifer and Michael frowned, turning to look at Sophie. She started to shy away, but then stood firm and tried to take the ring off, saying, “He was just trying to help, Howl.” She kept trying, but Howell knew it wouldn't come off. A simple charm and he could break it, but he'd wait. It would all work into his plan.

“I'm certain of it, but the proof is in the pudding. How about I call and ask nicely for your ring back?” He moved closer and she shrank from him, toward Calcifer. The demon didn't understand the body language, however and so didn't move to comfort her in any way. Calcifer's human eyes watched with interest.

“Sophie,” Howell said, grabbing her elbow. “I'm going to ask you to trust me and not to interrupt or argue with me while I'm talking with him. Do you understand?” He almost cringed at her muted response. She was afraid of him again. Well, it would have to do for now.

“Howl,” Calcifer cut in, crossing his arms. “You know, I've watched you do this to Michael for years, but Sophie?”

Howell turned on the fire demon and his eyes flashed a warning to his old friend. “Cal, this is not a good time for a heart to heart.”

“Cut the crap, wizard. Just explain to her what's going on!” Calcifer walked up and looked Howell in the eye. After a moment of staring silently, Howell turned away.

“I'm looking for a mirror. Feel free to enlighten everyone.” With that, Howell tried for a graceful exit up to his room. Mrs. Pentstemmon kept a mirror dedicated to scrying and used it frequently to get in touch with Wizard Suliman. Howell didn't want to use one of the mirrors he liked, because once he'd made contact, the mirrors would remain connected. The bathroom mirrors were out for that reason, as were any in his room unless they could be covered. Digging through his dresser, Howell came to the conclusion that he really ought to get rid of some stuff. While much of it could someday be useful, he'd have no space for Sophie's things with all of it hanging around. Perhaps he needed to use portals? He started to push things around in the sets of drawers along the wardrobe and thought about that until someone knocked on the door.

“Howl?” Michael's voice came through the wood. “Um, I have a mirror I don't need.”

“Perfect,” Howell called back. “Meet me downstairs. See if Sophie will clean it for us.” His chest gave a pain at the thought that she might not. Calcifer had been out of line, he thought, but his heart was in the right place. Howell wasn't one to spell things out. She couldn't have known. He plucked up his courage. They'd faced worse.

A contrite Sophie was not what he expected to find when he stepped off the stairs, but there she was, eyes downcast. Calcifer must've laid it on a bit thick, Howell thought. Still, this could be useful. “Mrs. Troublemaker,” he said, gently. “There are a few things I'll need to pull this off. Will you help me?” Lurking under that mouse was a woman with a will of steel and he wanted that woman on his side, now and forever. She nodded. At least his fear that she had crossed him was gone.

“I didn't think, Howl.”

“Cariad.” He bent to kiss her head. She looked up. “I do wish you'd trust me to take care of you,” he said. “But you didn't know. Fi sydd ar fai, the fault was mine.”

She scowled at him. “It was, you know. You shouldn't have given me something so precious without telling me how to take care of it.” Howell laughed. That was the Sophie he loved.

Michael entered, setting the large, wood framed mirror on the workbench. He cleared some papers and looked at the two of them. “Anything else?”

Howell was pleased to see that Michael had offered the mirror off of his dresser. For a teenager, that was a sacrifice. “Yes, I'm going to ask you to hand me that book.” Howell pointed to a large book that sat collecting dust on the top shelf. It was a nasty looking book with a cracking black leather binding and Michael reacted with some fear at the sight of it. Dutifully, the apprentice reached for it. “Not yet,” Howell said quickly. “When I ask, please.” He took a deep breath and picked a knife up off of the cutting board on the table. Walking toward Sophie, he said, “This would be a good time to trust me.” She flinched, but didn't raise her hands to stop him as the knife neared her head. Howell cut a lock of her hair and put the knife back. “Good, that's my girl!” He gave her a smile. “Now, I want you to stand beside me, but don't argue or correct me. In fact, don't speak if you can help it, either one of you.” He looked for Calcifer. He wouldn't need the warning anyway.

With the agreement of his assistants, Howell moved a chair in front of the mirror. He drew some symbols and called up his power. Keeping the wizard he wanted to speak with in mind, he pushed his will out. Scrying was not his strongest magic. Howell preferred transforming, transmuting and simple spellwork, really. The future could stay unknown as far as he was concerned. It did work well for wizard to wizard communication, but Howell had spent so long staying off the map, he'd had little use for it. He smiled, therefore, when Ben's lab quickly began to take focus. He heard a sharp intake of breath from Sophie as the whirling smoke within the mirror cleared and a craggy face took notice of them.

“I believe congratulations are in order,” Howell started out, not waiting for the other wizard to say hello.

“Really?” Ben Sullivan, now Wizard Suliman, had a wary look as he answered. “I thought it was the other way around?”

“No, it seems you've become engaged to my fiancée. Isn't that why you gave her your ring? How about we get together and celebrate, you and I?” Howell reached for Sophie's hand, careful to keep her to the side of the mirror, out of the frame, as it were. Suliman was quiet, watching as Howell pretended to try and take the ring off. “Oh dear,” Howell said. “Your ring seems determined to stay on. Well, no matter.” He pulled her closer with one arm around her waist and kissed the back of her hand, slipping the ring off as he did so. “Quite a weak charm, perhaps your new apprentice put it on?” He continued to kiss her fingers as he let go of her hand, gently guiding her back out of the frame. "Would you be so kind as to return the one I gave her?"

Ben's face reddened, but he kept his look friendly. “I'm just looking out for her interests, you understand? Someone should. If anyone hurt her, it would upset her family greatly and what upsets them, upsets me. The ring's safe here. You can think of it as insurance.”

“Indeed? You know Ben, there's a funny thing about dogs. Do you mind if I change the subject?” Howell's look turned thoughtful. “Funny thing is while you can take care of them, share your home with them, you never know when they'll turn around and bite you in the bum.”

The wizard in the mirror jumped in, “You know I never would've done that to a fellow countryman if it weren't for that spell.”

“Here's another funny thing,” Howell couldn't make a direct threat, but he could bluff with the best of them. “You know how badly dogs shed? Their hair gets all over everything.” Howell pretended to examine the lock of hair in his hand, rolling it between his fingers. “But since I have a meticulous house keeper, she swept up all the hair and when the curse was removed... well, let's just say that there was a pile of red gold hair lying about. Or would you call this ginger?” Howell looked directly at the mirror, staring hard at the Royal Wizard. “I hear you've taken on a young apprentice. One who means a lot to my fiancée. One who is what, half your age? Shall we call this insurance?” As Suliman protested, Howell signaled Michael. “Would you pass me that book, please? There may be a few curses I haven't yet memorized and I want to check the ingredients before I send you out shopping.” Howell let the book land with a thud, the binding facing the mirror. He set Sophie's hair on top.

“Let's cut the crap, Howell Jenkins,” Ben said. Howell wasn't sure his bluff worked, but he'd made the man uneasy. “There can't be war between us.”

“Nor do I want there to be, countryman o' mine, but you have something of Sophie's. I want it back. The only enchantment on it was to lead her home safely which you could've determined with it still on her finger.” Howell tossed the other ring in the air, caught it and made it disappear with sleight of hand. “Subterfuge is best left to the professionals.”

Suliman's face was like a rocky ledge in the best of times, but now it hardened even further. “Is there any possibility Prince Justin's hair is mixed in?”

Howell smiled, cracking open the book. “There's only one way to find out--”

“No!” The wizard was sweating slightly as he watched Howell ease the book closed, one finger holding the page. “Fine. I'll get your ring back.”

“Sophie's,” Howell said.

“What?”

“Sophie's ring.” Howell smiled, trying not to show the relief he felt. “Fair trade, I burn the hair as soon as she has her ring. The sooner the better, for all concerned.” By mutual will, the mirror clouded over. Michael and Sophie came closer as Howell let out a long sigh. He took one look at her angry face. “Calcifer?” he yelled. The fire demon appeared in the doorway with a smudge of chocolate cake on his lips. “Let's take a walk,” Howell said. “I really need a drink.”

For a city, it was quite small. Larger than a farm town, like Market Chipping or Upper Folding, but smaller than Kingsbury, little Brownsley-on-Tippings was proud of its up and coming status. The city square was tidy and well swept, the clock tower was correct at least twice a day and there were three inns where visitors could lay their weary bones. At one of those, visitors could lay more than that if they chose. Prostitution was not unknown in the smaller towns either, but here were at least seven hookers to choose from. Market Chipping used to have one whore to its name, but she'd run off to Kingsbury with a visiting count. No doubt some young lady would, through need or inclination, take up the proud tradition, but until then the men of that area had to trek here. Two such men were in fact skulking in the doorway of the inn with that in mind. When they entered the dimly lit pub it was clear they weren't the only ones. The room was crowded with men from all walks of life and women from only one. Most men tried to avoid one another's gaze, except for one table in the midst of a party. The two men found bar stools and spoke quietly.

“Your walk is getting more natural, Calcifer,” Howell said. “Is the suit causing any discomfort?”

“Well, there are all these sensations from it, but it seems to fit alright. Pretty good work for a prototype.” He slammed his fist down on the wood, annoying the bartender who thought he was signaling displeasure at slow service. The barkeep was a burly middle aged man, quite accustomed to throwing customers out for getting too uppity about service or about servicing the women who brought in so many clients.

“Keep it down over here or am I gonna... oh, sorry Doctor McCoy, didn't see it was you,” the man said. He tossed an odd glance at Calcifer, green tinged hair not being common in Brownsley-on-Tippings. Howell smiled, but didn't answer the look. The man produced glasses, wiping them with his apron, and tapped a keg below the bar. He seemed to be in a chatty mood, “We haven't seen you in a few months. Spring wasn't it? Found a new love or maybe relighting a fire?” His words seemed to stun Calcifer.

Howell's look remained pleasant, but non-committal and the bartender finished with a cheerful grin and moved on. Howell didn't really want to be recognized or reminded of his past appetite, though it seemed inevitable considering there wasn't a brothel in the region he hadn't at least visited and most had arrangements with him for health care in exchange for services. This visit was for Calcifer's sake though, and he turned his attention back to his friend just as the fire demon seemed to overcome his reluctance and poured the glass of beer down his throat. Howell's eyes widened, but the shell managed to avoid choking on the liquid and Calcifer let out a smoke tinged belch.

“Not much flavor,” he said in answer to Howell's look.

The wizard laughed and looked at his own drink. “We'll work on that... or it could be the beer.” He took a sip just in time to feel a hand caressing his back. “Ah, and here is the woman of the hour,” he said cheerily as the rest of the lady pressed between the two men.

“Doctor,” she purred. “Is this visit for business or pleasure?”

“A bit of both,” he smiled. “This is my friend, Cal. I wanted to show him a good time and naturally, I thought of you.” Calcifer stuck his hand out, but didn't know to put his empty pint down, so the effect was a bit off.

“Oh.” She sized the new man up. “So you're his good friend? The Doc talks about you all the time, says you're like brothers.”

Howell knew she was cold reading them; he never spoke of the demon. Like the best con artists, pimps and prostitutes, she knew people, how to read them and manipulate them for their coin. She had Calcifer's number right away. He blushed blue and turned to Howell with a happy grin. The wizard shrugged. He might as well have said it, anyway.

“Good to meet you,” Calcifer looked like he was trying to figure out the proper etiquette. At least he put his glass down. “Um, he says you're like his sister.”

She arched a painted brow at Howell, but bit her lip and leaned over to give Calcifer an LA style hug, as little contact as possible. She waved to the barkeep, ordering another round of drinks. Howell smiled to himself; she was banking on a big night. The madam stayed between the men, turning to the wizard. “I have Sonya and Rayna right now. You're on the house, of course, but your friend?” She gave him a look somewhere between pity and a sneer. Calcifer looked like an eager puppy, except that his teeth showed in a manner most dogs would recognize as aggressive. The finer point of 'monkey' body language was lost on the demon.

“No, we're just here to make sure he has fun, nothing for me.” Howell held up his hands, “Honest.”

She blinked, looking confused. “But, then you'll be joining him?”

“No, no... uh, I was hoping someone could show him the finer points of... being a man.” From the look on her face, Howell could tell the madam was having trouble with the reality of his refusal.

“So you won't need both women?” She looked between Calcifer's teeth and Howell's upraised hands. “Fine, I owe you anyway, the councilman's rash cleared up with your medicine and he's letting us stay a while longer. I'll give you Rayna and you two can do as you like.” She turned from them with a flourish and crossed the floor to a booth near the kitchen. Several women sat there talking and flirting with the men who swarmed around them. Howell watched as a brunette, with a face that even cosmetics couldn't keep from looking plain, stood up. Pity about the face, but the body more than made up for any other faults. She had curves in all the right places and a dancer's grace to her. Her eyes were wary, but she was all about business. As she approached she began to smile and Howell was forced to change his thoughts about her face. Her smile was warm and she took a special interest in Calcifer's hair, twining her fingers in his curls and leaning close to invite him upstairs.

Now that the moment of truth had arrived, the fire demon seemed to get cold feet. “Um,” he turned to Howell. “You know more about this, why don't you go?” The woman faked a pout and turned to Howell.

“That's rather the point,” Howell reassured him. “It's alright, just listen to her. Do what she tells you to. You'll be fine.” He gave the whore a charming smile and slapped Calcifer on the back. His memories from the contract should fill in the gaps, Howell reasoned. The girl took the demon's hand and off they went, his face turning a light shade of blue as she whispered in his ear.

Howell took a deep breath. He doubted he'd be able to do this later, when Calcifer was back, so he made himself walk over to the corner table. With a flick of Howell's fingers, the men who stood there moments before had sudden needs to be elsewhere. Another girl joined the group and one left before he found himself suddenly the focus of their combined attentions.

“Heya Doc!” The madam came up from behind him, her hand trailing along his back once more. “Did you change your mind? One toss free, otherwise I'll have to take it out in services, you understand.”

Howell shook his head as the girls began a teasing chorus, some volunteering to be examined or to turn the tables and give him a physical. He recognized two out of the four girls seated. This bordello had a fairly high turnover; being close to Kingsbury was a mixed blessing for them. There were a few ladies of the court who had come from such humble origins, it was said. He cleared his throat. “Actually,” he looked about, forcing himself to say it all. “I'm coming by to apologize. I put my needs above your own.” Howell bowed slightly, adding, “I'm sorry, but I treated you all really as not much more than wanking. It was wrong and I apologize.” The hand on his back, or more correctly his ass, paused in it's progress. On the whole, prostitutes didn't comprise the most intelligent of the other half, but the madam grasped his intent before her girls did.

“And what about our needs?” She skewered him with her eyes. He almost laughed as her toughest look paled in comparison to his beloved Sophie.

Howell spread his hands out in a gesture of innocence. “You can be attended to by any local wizard if you take what I've given you as samples. Upper Folding isn't too far and there's a lovely little witch there who'll help you out.” He doubted they would go to her, but Mrs. Fairfax could handle their needs and for all her chatting, she could be discreet. There were some looks of outrage, but the two women he knew nudged each other and smiled. The dark haired one stood up and was walking around the table, waiting for the reaction of her employer before approaching him.

The hand on his backside left to find its mate and twist in front of the madam. “I'm tempted to throw the both of you out,” she said, her teeth grinding with each word. She turned to walk away before noticing her employee had moved to hug Howell.

“Congratulations, Doctor!” the young woman squealed. Howell rethought his earlier comment about their intelligence. “We always knew you were the romantic type. Do we know her?”

“Doubtful,” he said as he kissed her on her dimpled cheeks. The woman he knew as Sonya rose and he hugged her across the table and then he was hugged in turn by the women he didn't know.

The madam watched and made a reassessment of her own. “Oh, is that all? You're getting married then? We'll keep your account open. You'll be back.” There was general merriment at his blushing, but Howell accepted it with a smile and repeated a quick apology.

“I'd better not be,” he said good naturedly. He excused himself. “I'd better go check on my friend, his first you know.”

The women seemed cheered and their suitors returned as he headed for the stairs. Another apology down. Howell was prepared to let his magic senses tell him which room, but they weren't needed once he heard a woman calling for help. Using his will to push the door open, he stood in the doorway, trying to understand the tableau he saw.

Once, many years earlier, Howell and his rugby team had been invited to a national team's party at the end of a hard season. At some point, a man jumped on a table and fucked a blow up doll in front of God and everyone. Some party goers cheered, most tried to ignore it. Howell watched in embarrassment, both for the man and the doll. Thank goodness Sophie hadn't been there, he thought now. She would've spoken to the doll and then that poor thing would be doomed to a hell life of awareness. As it was, the doll bounced about and it's open hole of a mouth gave the world a soundless scream that Howell could relate to. The man finished with a grunt and applause sounded. He bowed. Apparently he'd been up there on a dare or bet. Howell didn't care and was pleased to find a nice, real girl to take in privacy. He thought he'd forgotten about the incident until seeing Calcifer, naked in his human suit, pounding into the prostitute. The lower half of her was balanced on his arms as her top half bounced hard on the bed to the rapid rhythm of his thrusting.

“Cal! Stop that! Gentle, gentle.” Howell crossed the room, grabbing Calcifer's arm until the demon lowered the girl to the bed, though the demon didn't withdraw or let her go.

“Hey Howl, this is great! I know how you feel now. Really! It's--”

“No, no Calcifer, this... you can't do this. You've got to... I don't know how to put this,” Howell said as he reached to comfort the girl. He put a hand on her shoulder and she reached up and squeezed it. She looked more angry than hurt, though he suspected she'd be bruised up by morning. “Poor girl, are you alright?” She nodded and thanked him. “I told you to listen to her,” he chided Calcifer, pointing at the woman.

“I did, Howl! I did that. She told me what to do. It's pretty simple. I don't know what I was scared of.” Calcifer took his hands off her to signal his confusion. She didn't move away, but looked between the two men. What a career, Howell thought!

“Look, Calcifer, there's a human on the other side of your cock. You've got to respect that. Treat her gentle. You can't just...” He thought for a second before saying, “Listen, Cal. How would you feel if that were Sophie, huh? Try and treat this girl like you would one of us, okay?” The fire demon would only consider three people worth protecting, Michael, Howell and Sophie. The rest of humanity? Howell would try to change that one person at a time. He looked down at the woman, smoothing hair off her forehead. Her make up was smeared, oddly it helped her looks. “Can he... I mean will you let him...” Howell was relieved when she assented. He bent low, kissing her cheek and murmuring how sorry he was. Whether it was for himself or Calcifer hardly mattered. He patted the demon's back and stepped away.

The girl nodded at Calcifer and he leaned down and kissed her just as Howell had done. Howell smiled, tossing a generous amount of money on the dresser as he walked back to the door, confident that they'd be alright. He meant to leave, but stopped at the door as Calcifer began to moan Sophie's name.

“Ooooh,” Calcifer continued. “That's what I like. Oh Sophie... mmm, you're wet, but it's not scary at all.” The demon's eyes were closed and his pale body moved in gentle strokes out and back. He bent low at the knees and set a slow rhythm. The prostitute moved along with him, her back resting on the bed as she wrapped her legs around his hips. Calcifer put his hands under her ass, kneading her flesh in an entirely different gesture than when Howell first saw them. “Yes, Sophie...”

Howell's jaw tightened and his throat went dry. His hand clutched the doorjamb, but he couldn't leave, not now. He looked back over his shoulder, forcing himself to stand still and not interfere. Wasn't this exactly what he'd told him to do? He watched his creation move, muscles clenching under skin that still held a faint print. Why had he bothered to make it so beautiful? Howell couldn't remember.

Calcifer continued to vocalize with each thrust, running his hands over the woman's body as if memorizing it, worshiping it. She wiggled and rubbed like a wanton thing, her hands moving over her breasts and rubbing herself. Howell knew exactly what that would do if it were him buried in her body. He watched Calcifer squeeze his eyes tighter and his hands formed into fists, but his rhythm didn't change. Regaining control, the demon reached down to find and rub her clitoris. She moaned and ground her hips into him. Her hands reached up, pulling Calcifer down for a deep kiss. It went on like that for what felt to Howell like an eternity. He wanted to yell at them to get it over with, but found he couldn't make his mouth work.

“Sophie... this feels so wonderful,” Calcifer was panting now and moaning into her hair. Howell felt his own desires growing as the spectacle was reaching its peak. It was unfair, he felt, that Calcifer should have a first time with “Sophie” before Howell. A feeling of unreasonable rage began to develop alongside the lust. He turned away, counting slowly and breathing in the way he'd been trained by Mrs. Pentstemmon. Anger is the most dangerous emotion for a mage, she'd taught. She never mentioned jealousy, but then he'd never felt it before. He and his reprobate friends had even shared women without emotional trouble. But Sophie? Never! Howell's hand took a chunk of wood out of the door frame before he noticed it had turned into a claw. He slammed his head against the wall in frustration. A drink was what he needed, a strong fucking drink. Weak beer would not do. Howell stumbled from the room and stopped to feel his heart pound before heading down to the bar. He ignored the girls along the way.


Many hours later, a door opened on the castle, stationary without its resident fire demon, as said demon entered with a black bundle of rags across its shoulders. He carefully pushed his burden off onto the floor and sat next to it, grabbing the rags and shaking them. “Hell's teeth, Howl! Walking in those damned boots is hard!” A grunt was his only answer as the rags wobbled back and forth. “Well if you'd stayed sober enough it wouldn't have been so bad!” Another grunt answered the first.

As Howell came to, he took a bleary look around the house. Sophie's bed seemed to be occupied and snores were coming from the pile of blankets. Howell nodded his head as he realized he'd sleep alone. No big deal, he told himself. He'd survive one night without her. Even when he “slept” with someone, he never actually slept with them, never stayed the whole night. Who wanted to see the person the next morning? This morning had been... very nice. He found he liked sleeping with Sophie, holding her through the night. Howell leaned his head against Calcifer's human costume. It would probably burn through in a few days. Howell didn't intend it to stand up to long term use. Next model, he thought.

“Howl?” Calcifer asked, turning to face him. “Howl, are you gonna throw up again?” When Howell shook his head, Calcifer put his arm around the wizard, hugging him tightly. Howell relaxed his head, resting it on Calcifer's chest and breathing in the smoky aroma. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Sophie's snores providing the only sound. There was no fire in the grate and it took Howell a moment to miss it. “Thank you for tonight,” the demon said, softly.

“What're friends for?” Howell had always intended to take Michael out whoring when he was old enough, but that was before Sophie and now the boy seemed to be all hung up on Martha. He'd probably get weird about it anyway.

“But... you got so mad... I did like you said.” Calcifer's voice did not sound at all like it should and Howell looked up at him, his drunk fading to a background numbness. Calcifer sounded uncertain, almost scared. Coming out of the shell's mouth, it sounded wrong.

Howell waved a hand. It was a clumsy gesture, even to him. “Fi sydd ar fai,” he mumbled. Welsh was easier than English when he was drunk. It's guttural tones sounding better somehow.

“Well, I was worried.” The men sat in together until Howell almost fell asleep. “Howl? Is that what we are? Friends? Without the contract, I... sometimes I feel lost,” Calcifer sniffled, then nearly screamed. “Ah! I'm dripping! My nose! Ew, my eyes!”

Howell would've laughed, but he didn't want to hurt his feelings. “'S okay, Cal. Just crying. You're hookay.” He would've explained how difficult it had been to coordinate all of the bodily functions with the demon's thoughts, but his tongue felt thick, normal speech impossible. He held the shell's arm instead. “Yer not lost. This is your home. You're... my friend. Rwy'n dy garu di. Jealous... I guess.” Howell's shoulders sank. This honesty thing isn't so tough, he thought. His mind was still moving sluggishly, at least he figured that must've been why he didn't feel the kiss coming until Calcifer's lips were on his. Warm breath mixed with his as lips moved gently across his mouth. Fear hit him like a fist. “Na! Cal, no!” He jerked away, pushing his whole body to the side. His legs failed to help him stand, so he fell back, making space between himself and Calcifer. “Beth wnaeth ddigwydd!” He held his chest, his breath racing.

Calcifer stood gracefully and backed up to the hearth. His eyes glowed faintly. “I thought... but I thought you.. you said...”

Howell put it together first, quite a feat in this state, he thought, although he felt closer to sober now than he had a moment ago. “I do love you Calcifer,” he said. “But that's... different.”

“Why? You kiss Sophie. You love her, and I did more than just kiss that girl tonight but I didn't love her. Do men--”

Howell cut him off, “No! Don't... Look Cal, we've been together for a long time, and there's been a bond... You're a friend. No, more like a brother and I... I can't...” An uncomfortable silence fell. Even the snoring stopped.

“Can you make it up to bed on your own?” Calcifer's tone was back to normal and Howell nodded with relief. One second the man stood in front of Howell and the next he fell to the side with a clanking sound. Fire was back in the hearth where it belonged. Two sighs echoed in the quiet room. Sophie had cleaned the grate while they were gone and new wood was stacked up alongside. Calcifer watched Howell struggle to rise, but said nothing.

“Oh God, I hope we didn't wake Sophie,” Howell mumbled as he stood shakily.

“She wasn't asleep,” the fire demon said. His voice was soft, but it was back to its caustic self and Howell welcomed it even as the meaning of the words sank in.

“Snoring?” he whispered.

“Haven't you noticed? Only old Sophie snored like that.” He sounded pleased with himself for knowing something about her that Howell didn't, despite having spent the past two nights with her.

“Oh.” Howell's body didn't want to cooperate, but he walked to the stairs, looking in at his love. Her blankets were pulled up over her head and he considered carrying her upstairs, but in his state? He curled up on the stone floor next to her, close but alone.