Birthday Ficlets 1/2 (original) (raw)

For briarwolf, on the occasion of her being born!

Title: Sleepless Night
Fandom: Howl's Moving Castle
Characters: Sophie, Howl, Calcifer
Word Count: 526

The problem with having a house that opened onto several different places, Sophie had decided within a week of marrying Howl and coming back to live in the Castle as lady of the house, was that it made it quite impossible to know what one should be wearing unless Calcifer was in a good enough mood to warn one in advance. The fire demon, unfortunately, thought that it was very funny to tell people that the weather was just the opposite of what it actually was and nothing Sophie (or Howl, after he was told to talk to Calcifer after Sophie’s best dress was ruined in the rain one day) could do would change his mind.

It was also quite possible to walk past two windows and have quite different weather visible through each of them. Sophie found it to be most distracting until she had time to make curtains. She decided quite early on that it was something she would never get used and so she would just have to resign herself to being constantly surprised whenever she passed a window or the door was open.

After the honeymoon, which was really rather splendid in all sorts of ways, Sophie found herself spending time in the palace because Howl was still Royal Wizard and a person of some repute. Sophie was invited largely because she was the only one who could make Howl work for the whole day. The Palace was marvellous and she found Howl and Michael measuring corridors and talking secretively about ‘renovations’ and ‘extensions’ on several occasions.

Sophie quite enjoyed herself; which came as rather a surprise since Palaces and Kings were not really things she had much experience with. She caught herself being quite flippant about it, in fact and spent the rest of the afternoon chiding herself for letting Howl be such a bad influence. She also found herself noticing that all the windows showed the same weather as if this was a strange thing and spent the rest of that afternoon telling herself not to be silly.

They went back to the Castle after a week or so and Sophie spent a lot of time looking through windows and enjoying the way it could be raining in Porthaven and sunny in Kingsbury. Howl watched her do this but never asked any questions; which was just as well since how Sophie could have explained this, she had no idea.

Then one night, she woke up to find Calcifer dancing on a candle wick and chanting for them both to get up. Howl grumbled and complained awfully but Sophie and Calcifer between them got him awake and out of bed.

“Look!” Calcifer whispered, pointing one long thin arm out the door. “Look at the storm!”

It really was a spectacular storm. The sort of storm that would have scared Sophie into hiding under her covers not even a year ago. But now, standing in the doorway, she could look back at the windows and see clear starlit skies over Kingsbury. She watched the stars for a minute then followed Calcifer’s gasps and Howl’s whoops out into the fury of the storm.

Title: Bride's Gown
'Fandom': Norse Mythology
Word Count: 300

"What ill tidings are these!?" Thor's voice echoed through his halls like the thunder of his chariot. His eyes gleamed red as blood against the snow and his thanes scattered into the night as frightened children flee their father's anger.

Only Loki, clad in feather-cloak and firelight, stood fearless before him. "Thine hammer is thine no longer, cousin. Icy Thyrm claims it as a trophy and swears that he will not surrender it save in payment for fair Freya's hand."

The insult sparked a roar of outrage that threatened to topple the very walls. Thor strode the breadth of the hall, his anger stirred to near full fury. "Coward! Thief! Carrion dog! By my father, I will see him dead for such an insult!"

"Even thy might will not sustain thee against the might of Thyrm and his clan while thou art unarmed, cousin." Loki smiled upon him. "But do not yet despair, I will set my wits against this Giant and we will see if there is not a surer path to victory."

Thor sank into his great seat and turned a brooding eye on his fey companion. The shape-changer paid him no heed, sitting by the fire and turning his gaze inward as he thought on the thunder-god's dilemma. It was not merely his loss that made Thor wary. In all of Asgard, he would find no aid to match the Trickster's wits, freely offered and yet, he longed for his father's lean wolf-like strength or his brothers' boisterous might. Anything but the temptation of Loki's slender, hairless form.

"Hark ye, kinsman!" Loki exulted, rising flushed and proud to face him. "There is yet a chance to win back pride and Hammer in one fell swoop!"

Thor looked upon his wicked smile and cat-like eyes and was afraid.

Title: Memorial
Fandom: Harry Potter
Pairing: (I tried to write Snarry but it just doesn't work. D: )
Word Count: 569

The morning was crisply cold and clear. They arrived not together but in unison all the same, black robes flapping in the brisk breeze. They nod curtly to each other and grunt.

"Weasely."

"Malfoy."

They don't speak again as they march in step up the hill. The grass is damp and soaks into their robes as they climb in silence. There will be daisies here when the summer comes, dandelions and thistles too and they will talk of weedkilling charms and clearing a path. They won't actually do it but they'll talk about it to everyone but each other and pretend that they're sincere.

The headstones at the top of the hill are still polished white marble. The names and dates are still sharp and clearly legible. The graves themselves are perfect mounds of green. Only Neville's is different with half a hundred odd herbs and plants covering the mound in an untidy blanket of growth. In spring, they’ll bring seeds to add a new layer to the blanket.

They split up, still not talking. Ron carries his lopside bunch of flowers and props them up against the headstone with “Hermione Granger” carved at the top. He brushes his fingers across the carved letters and his smile comes easily. “’lo Hermione. It’s me again. Here to bore you with the latest news and gossip.”

He settles himself down beside the gravestone and absently adjusts the bunch of flowers. “Let’s see. Well, the Cannons won the Cup again this year. We went to watch the match and it was ruddy brilliant. Best Beater tactics I’ve ever seen. He put two Galleons on the opposition and sulked every minute of the way home. We wound up needing another new bed – we’re going to empty Gringotts altogether if this keeps up. And your books are being used in Hogwarts again this term. Professor Flitwick is still singing your praises.”

His voice wavers but he clears his throat. “What else, oh! Crookshanks has fleas again. We had to give him a bath and I’m telling you, Hermione, for such a smart cat, he’s a ruddy idiot when you try to wash him.”

Ron blinks back the tears that always come at this point. “…we had another fight last week. It wasn’t a bad one, we don’t seem to have the energy for them anymore but I said a lot of stupid things and he said a lot of nasty things and…well, we wrecked another two rooms in the Manor and the House Elves still haven’t patched it up.”

He stands the bunch of flowers back up. “I…I don’t- I’m not good at this. I can’t stop thinking that this is a mistake. If-if you hadn’t died…maybe we’d have broken up or something or maybe we’d have been happy. Instead I’m sharing a bed with Malfoy of all people and…and I love him, Hermione.”

Ron pauses. “I think – I think you’d be happy for me and I think you’d tell me to use my head next time he starts being a pompous git instead of just mouthing off.” He shivers sharply as the wind cuts through his robe. “And I think you’d tell us to get out of the cold before we freeze.”

He stands up, one hand coming to rest on the headstone. “We’ll be back next month.”

A slim, pale hand curls over his and Draco nods. “We both will.”

"Goodbye Hermione."

Title: Pit-stop
Fandom: Saiyuki
Character: Sanzo, Hakkai

They stopped for the night in a tiny huddle of huts claiming to be a village. Gojyo vanished in the direction of the local poker game almost before Jeep rolled to a stop outside the local bar. Goku lasted until the motherly cook enlisted him to taste-test her cooking. Jeep, back in his dragon form, curled up on the table and went to sleep.

That left Sanzo, stiff and grumpy after a long's travel and Hakkai, watching him with a healer's concern. Sanzo had taken the brunt of the youkai attacks that day and despite the threat of fan and gun, Hakkai was anxious for him. He endangered his life by stepping in to ensure that the barmaid - a sweet young girl totally unprepared for exposure to Genjyo Sanzo in a snit - didn't bring him any alcohol.

Sanzo snarled and lit up a cigarette before vanishing behind his paper. The barmaid took Hakkai's order, watching Sanzo nervously from the corner of her eye. She recommended the stew, the shepard's pie (whatever that was) and very earnestly told them that the pie was simply to die for.

Hakkai sighed soundlessly and turned his attention to the window. The cherry orchards outside seemed to be in full bloom, a most pleasing sight. "Will we be staying the night, do you think?"

Sanzo's paper rustled. "We're hardly likely to do better and Jeep's exhausted."

Hakkai smiled at the barmaid. "Perhaps we could try some of the cherry pie?"

The pie was good. Very good in fact. So good that when Goku and Goyjo came in, Hakkai was stealing Sanzo's cherry (pie). And Goyjo never let him live it down.