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Happily Ever After

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When Sophie really did reach the age of seventy-five it wasn't at all like she remembered it.

“This really isn't so old,” she muttered to Calcifer, as she knit by his flickering light.

“Maybe because it crept up on you slowly this time,” the demon replied.

“Or maybe because all the magic in this house means you don't have to feel aches and pains anymore,” came a muffled voice from the sofa.

“I thought you were sleeping,” said Sophie.

“With all the racket you two are making? Never,” said Howl petulantly.

“Bah,” said Sophie. “We were hardly making a sound.”

“How did you survive all those years with Morgan, Howl?” Calcifer asked.

Howl shuddered, “don't remind me,” he said in a dignified tone Calcifer rather though he did not deserve.

“Well at least he's got a few of his own now to keep him busy,” Sophie commented, lifting up her knitting and examining the withered sock that hung there. She made an impatient noise before telling the sock to unravel itself.

“Yes, that really is the best revenge,” said Howl drily.

Fifty Years Ago
When Howl suggested that they live Happily Ever After, Sophie had been delighted. At the time, she had not been aware just how much work it would take. Maybe it was because Morgan came so soon after they were married. Or maybe it was because living with a contrary wizard and his old fire demon was never going to be easy; Sophie wasn't sure. But she loved Howl fiercely, and Calcifer too. Still, she could have murdered Howl when Morgan, at the ripe old age of three, threw his first fit – complete with green slime.

–

Howl walked in the front door, the “Hello!” dying on his lips when he took in the scene in front of him. His first clue was Calcifer, cackling with unusual glee in his grate.

“What's the joke, old boy?” Howl asked him, puzzled.

This made Sophie look up, and she made a strangled noise of frustration upon seeing him.

Howl turned around and had to choke back a laugh, as Sophie did not look to be in a joking mood.
She was kneeling in the middle of the floor, trying to change Morgan's diaper. The baby was screaming his head off, everything covered in a layer of green slime.

“Oh you think it's funny, do you?” Sophie snapped. “I'm not cleaning it up this time!”

The smile faded abruptly from Howl's face.

Sophie laughed, she couldn't help herself.

Thirty Years Ago
Martha did indeed have ten children. Sophie had to say their names like a song in their head to remember them all: Molly, Milly, Mark, Mona, Mitchell, Marten, Magnus, Matthew, Magda and Mordecai.

She knew them, of course, but if she tried to list them out of order she would get all muddled. Still, it made her grateful she only had Morgan to reckon with. (She also now regretted giving Morgan a name starting with 'M'. It seemed cruel to narrow Martha's ever-slimming options – although Morgan had come first, she reminded herself.)

Seeing Martha now always made her anxious. Her sister was no longer the baby of the family, she was a blur running around and managing the needs of ten others. In a way it reminded Sophie of Martha's time at the bakery: tending to the needs of a dozen others, always in demand. It seemed to be how her sister thrived. Even if Martha seemed overwhelmed, she was quite capable of managing her large family. Sophie thought she secretly enjoyed it. And she had never seen Michael looking happier than when he was surrounded by his wife and many children.

“Who would have thought,” she thought. “In a family of three sisters, we could all end up happy?”

Twenty-Five Years Ago
On their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, Sophie finally let Howl do something he had been threatening to do since their wedding day: take her to Wales to attend a rugby match.

Even after all those years with Howl, Sophie not gotten used to Wales. Every time she thought she had adjusted, something else popped up that she was sure she could never comprehend.

It was not without some trepidation that she went to the match. She flinched every time the crowd roared and even harder when the players ran into each other. It seemed to happen an awful lot – she wasn't quite sure why they weren't more careful.

“Has it always been this dangerous?” she asked Howl.

“Oh yes,” he replied, quite cheerfully.

“Thank goodness you don't play anymore! It's a miracle you weren't killed!”

Much to Howl's relief, before Sophie could finish her rant, the crowd began to sing a familiar tune.

She turned to her husband, “What is– is that...?” her eyes widened and she trailed off.

“Calicifer's 'saucepan song' my love” Howl grinned, and kissed her right then and there.

Sophie blushed like a newlywed, and happily sung along.

Ten Years Ago
“Lynnette and I are going to have a baby.” Morgan announced.

Sophie felt her heart expand with joy, and was left nearly speechless. At forty, Morgan was nowhere near too old to have children, but she had been starting to wonder if grandchildren would ever appear. Martha already had seven. Nearby, Howl was clapping his son on the back, and Calcifer was cackling (rather too loudly, she thought) in his grate.

“Sophie,” Morgan's wife asked her timidly, “would you be willing to help us take care of her when she arrives?” Lynnette finished.

“It's a her?” Sophie's eyes filled with tears. She caught Howl's eye and thought her heart would burst. ”What luck Howl had to get his heart back from that awful Witch of the Waste,” Sophie thought. ”If only for this moment.” As Howl beamed back at her, she knew he was feeling the same.

Present Day
They had grown old slowly, but gracefully too; or so Sophie liked to think. Somehow easing into it was easier to bear than being turned elderly in a single instant. Yet in ways she felt like the young girl trapped in the old woman's body more now than ever. When she had been young, before she had met Howl, everything about her had felt old and weary. Now she felt young and far more mischievous than she ever had as a girl. Something about being old made her feel more comfortable using her magic. She rather liked her cackle, too. It reminded her of when she had pretended to be Howl's old mother to Mrs. Penstemmon and to the King.

–

After Howl had gone back to bed Calcifer remarked softly, “He's not as strong as he used to be.”

Sophie ignored him, pretending to examine her knitting.

“I know you can hear me Sophie,” said Calcifer sharply. “Take care of him.”

“I could make you promise the same thing,” Sophie replied. “You'll outlive us both.”

For a moment they stared at one another. Sophie broke out in a smile and returned to her knitting, as
Calcifer sighed. Then, softly, they both began to sing:

Mae bys Meri-Ann wedi brifo,
A Dafydd y gwas ddim yn iach.
Mae'r baban yn y crud yn crio,
A'r gath wedi sgramo Joni bach.
Sosban fach yn berwi ar y tân,
Sosban fawr yn berwi ar y llawr,
A'r gath wedi sgramo Joni bach.
Dai bach y sowldiwr,
Dai bach y sowldiwr,
Dai bach y sowldiwr,
A gwt ei grys e mas.
Mae bys Meri-Ann wedi gwella,
A Dafydd y gwas yn ei fedd;
Mae'r baban yn y crud wedi tyfu,
A'r gath wedi huno mewn hedd.
Sosban fach yn berwi ar y tân
Sosban fawr yn berwi ar y llawr
A'r gath wedi huno mewn hedd.
Dai bach y sowldiwr,
Dai bach y sowldiwr,
Dai bach y sowldiwr,
A gwt ei grys e mas.
Aeth hen Fari Jones i Ffair y Caerau
I brynu set o lestri de;
Ond mynd i'r ffos aeth Mari gyda'i llestri
Trwy yfed gormod lawer iawn o 'de'
Sosban fach yn berwi ar y tân
Sosban fawr yn berwi ar y llawr
A'r gath wedi huno mewn hedd.