Howl's Moving Castle Fan Fiction ❯ The Common Cold ❯ Chapter 1

 

10:43 PM, NORTH INGARY STANDARD TIME

 

“….Sophie?”

Looking up from some ER-worthy sock-mending, Sophie found Howl standing at the top of the stairwell, pouring water. Hein was tucked under his arm football-style, even wetter than the mage himself. They sneezed in unison. “Sophie, is there any tea left?”

“I'll make some. Hold on.” As she set to work heating the teakettle, Sophie noticed some rather disturbing facts. Namely, that Hein, being slightly magical, could go out rollicking in the downpour/sleet storm that had gripped Star Lake for a week, shake himself off and be fine. Howl, being more than slightly magical but also on karma's hit-list, had gone out under the same circumstances, chased around after Hein like a man half his age of twenty-two long years, and was already shivering, shaking and—

“Whaaaa-CHOO!” -And sneezing. As if it being winter weren't bad enough. She watched as Calcifer stroked the teakettle as if it were a cat, still unsure what she thought of his crimson-haired, tan-skinned, purple-eyed human form. The teakettle began to whistle.

“Here ya go,” said Calcifer, holding it out to her handle-first. “Boiling.” Why a powerful, million-year-old fire demon had agreed to stay and help her around the house, Sophie wasn't sure she'd ever puzzle out. At the moment, it was nice to have a walking personification of heat, despite the elaborate fireproofing that'd had to be done. Winter, after all.

Setting the tea in front of Howl, Sophie took a quick survey: Red nose, pale face, expression that implied the inability to breathe through said nose. Besides that the wizard was shaking, his teeth were chattering, and he kept a sturdy black hankie poised before his nose.

“Thank you, So—AH-CHOO!! Sophie,”

“Welcome. Why, again, did you do out in the first place?”

“Exercise.”

“Of your will to live?”

“No,” said Howl indignantly. He blew his nose again. “If I deber stuck by dose oudzide, life would be so boreeg.” Sniffing again, the mage added, “I tink I may hab a code.” Sneeze, cough. “Though I cad't ibagine wye.”

Sophie looked up at the ceiling. Howl and Markle and Hein looked too, but they didn't see anything.

 

—TWO HOURS LATER, 12:43 PM—

 

“….Sophie?” The woman had to have heard him that time. It was his loudest, most commanding

…er…croak. That was really all you could call it: a croak. Howl swallowed. Or to put it more fittingly he tried, but the virus—whatever it was, though the thought had crossed his mind that it was a curse—had swollen the wizard's tonsils together. They felt like they were covered in wool. Besides that, they hurt, along with his ears, his head, his stomach…

Botheration, Howl's whole body hurt. It ached. It throbbed. It stabbed. And Hein, the devil, lay on his stomach as healthy as could be. Howl stared at the dog's tail. It was really the only thing to look at, besides a plain ceiling and the backs of his eyelids, though that was a pretty interesting sort of light show. Cursed, the mage thought. I've been cursed. He stumbled to the bathroom, knelt before the toilet, and threw up until there was no bile left. Finally, Howl's stomach stopped rolling. He stood up to go back to bed and fell flat. Of course I've been cursed. There's nothing natural that can cause this. After repeating the procedure several times, the wizard and his multiple bruises were back in bed. Hein jumped onto his chest, made three agonizing circles, and lay back down. Howl raised his head again to address the dog's tail.

“Well, at least I have company, right Hein?”

The tail lifted and an odor unlike anything ever smelled before—worse—filled the room. Howl lay his head back down, coughing. Hein got up, apparently disgusted with himself, bounced off the mage's sore stomach, and left. Curse whoever cursed me with………………..

 

—TWO MORE HOURS, NOW 2:43 AM—

 

Sophie roused from a dream that she couldn't really remember. Something about pink elephants, the Watergate scandal, and a single, solitary piece of pie. But while she was up, the girl decided, she'd check on Howl. He really hadn't looked too well the night before.

She carefully climbed the stairs, pushed the door open. Howl lay crosswise across the bed, covers tangled around him like chains. His eyes snapped open.

“Sophie, thank Heavens. I was about to call you. President Nixon says he's banning pie.” He twisted, as she came over to lay a hand to his forehead, so that most of his body hung off. “Now what do you think of that? Hasn't pie always been a good citizen? Why just last year he helped those pink elephants….” He rattled on about Watergate's responsibility in the matter as Sophie dragged Howl down the hall, set him pajamas and all in the bathtub, and turned on the shower nozzle. Calcifer had recently told her that he was now running the castle exclusively on water from the northern wells. In other words, cold water. She waited until most of Howl was covered, as much as was practical in a tub, and poured some water over his face. It seemed to help.

“But I'm telling you, pie just said—” this was cut off by a gasp. “Sophie!? Sophie, what are you doing to me?”

“I'm bringing your fever down. Want to tell me any more political/culinary arguments while you wait?” And she doused him again. Howl gasped. Coughed. Besides that, he blushed scarlet. Which was barely deeper than the fever-flush, but an increment just the same.

“Isn't cold water—” SPLASH! GASP CHOKE COUGH COUGH “—what got me into this?”

“Yes, and it'll get you out too.” she poured another few cups of water over the mage's head before pausing. “Honestly, why do you do these things?”