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The Wizard Howl Pendragon was not in a good mood. “We are not going!” He insists, storming through his castle with all the rage of a hurricane. Picture frames rattle with his footsteps. Calcifer is wisely keeping very quiet, cowering in his grate.
“We most certainly are going!” Fires back the Witch Sophie Pendragon neé Hatter, chasing after her contrary husband with an opened letter in one hand and Howl’s coat in the other. Her own coat flutters around her like an ominous navy-blue bat, its embroidered raindrops flying around in a fabric storm to reflect her mood.
“Leave me be woman!”
“Don’t you dare call me ‘woman’ Howl, I am your wife and I’ll hex you into next Tuesday if you don’t just stand still and explain a few things to me!”
There are many things ordinary people fear. There are considerably many more things magic-users fear. Out of these many things, one of the more terrifying was Sophie Pendragon’s hexes when she really meant it, so the Wizard Howl stopped quite abruptly. This left Sophie to run into him, and they ended up in a heap on the floor, which Sophie used as an opportunity to shove the letter in Howl’s face. (She does this with an odd expression on her face-something between a scowl and a smile-that only made sense if you knew that Howl and Sophie were almost nearly always at their happiest when they were quarreling.)
“You’ll be giving me an explanation before we get going, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind, and we’re not going,” Howl huffed, looking very pouty and rather silly from his position on the floor. Sophie, sitting on top of him, raised her eyebrow. “Stop that! You look just like my grandfather when you do that!”
“Funny how you’ve never mentioned him before, or your parents. I didn’t even know you had parents until this letter, I mean, I assumed you came from somewhere but that you’d killed whoever raised you by way of sheer frustration!”
“I’ll explain if you’d just get off me, Sophie dear-” Sophie, recognizing this as one of Howl’s many slithering-out tactics, decided that this was a good moment to read Howl the letter, which not ten minutes ago had been delivered by nothing less than a miniature dragon.(Who happened to have white scales for those readers who are interested in the details of draconic activities.)
“Dear Howl,” the letter began. “First I want to say how glad I am that you haven’t gone and done something stupid like getting yourself killed by poking around in other dimensions. If you want to know how I know that you’re alive, it’s quite simple really, if you were dead the tracking spell I gave Aithusa wouldn’t have worked and you wouldn’t be reading this letter. And the letter wouldn’t exist if you weren’t reading it, that was a tricky bit of spellwork...but I’m getting away from my point. Now that that’s out of the way, I would very much appreciate it- ‘appreciate’ is underlined three times,” Sophie commented- “if your Grand Wizardness would deign to visit your poor old parents in lovely old Wales before we drop dead or you do go and get yourself killed-in which case I will be very annoyed with you, young man.
“Your Da says you can consider this a royal command. He’s a bit more miffed at you than I am, you should be glad he isn’t writing this letter. But I do agree with him on this. You will come visit us as soon as you are physically able, which should be soon seeing as how I severely doubt you’re very busy with anything of importance. Since I got the right dimensional door open, I’ve been hearing nothing but the worst rumors about you. Eating young girl's’ hearts and being chased by sorceresses indeed, I would have thought your aunt instilled a healthy fear of women with magic into you. You should know better than to go jilting them.
“When- not if- you visit, just cast a return to sender spell on this letter, it’ll pop you right on our doorstep. We’ll be seeing you soon. Love, your long suffering father. P.S. Auntie Gwen says hi and demands you visit her for tea this Wednesday.”
Howl groans, knocking his head against the floor. “That’s my father alright. I get the wizardry from him, you know.”
“No I don’t know! You didn’t tell me! I suppose you didn’t think that I might like to meet your family, did you? Well, that’s too bad, because you’re going to put your coat on and help me with this spell, we’re going right now-”
“No we’re not!”
“And why not?” Sophie dares him to come up with a good reason.
“Because they’ll get horribly nosy-even worse than you Mrs. Nose-about where I’ve been all these years, and Da may actually kill me-”
“All these years? Howl...how long has it been since you visited your parents?”
Howl tries to dodge the question, knowing that it will be the end of him once he answers. “It’s not like I’ve been totally silent, that letter-Dad’s being a bit dramatic, you see? I’ve sent them letters and holiday gifts, and Aunt ‘Gana’s been over for tea, though that was before Michael was around-Oh, and that’s another reason we shouldn’t go, Aunt Gana’s guaranteed to steal you away, she loves witches and hates men and will think I’m not good enough for you-”
Sophie would not be deterred from her question, staring Howl down even as she thought she liked the sound of this Aunt. “Howl, how long has it been since you’ve seen your parents?”
Grimacing, “It’ll have been six years this Christmas, and three...four years since I’ve seen Aunt ‘Gana.” Howl awaits the death blow. It takes a minute to land, as Sophie is rather busy processing the length of time that Howl has gone without seeing his family. As someone who saw her youngest sister every time she went to the bakery, who had Sunday tea with her stepmother and other sister every week, and who even when under an aging spell had not gone more than a few days without seeing one of her siblings, six years seemed an impossibly long time to go without family.
Once she recovered from the pure shock of it, she calmly untangled herself from her husband, dusted herself off, and held out his coat. She doesn’t say a word, but Howl understands. He pulls on the coat and holds out his hand for the letter, looking the very picture of dejection. Sophie merely motions for him to get on with the spell.
With a great and terrible sigh, the Wizard Howl begins the incantation, Sophie jumping in halfway through and grabbing his hand. There’s a golden flash and a sound like muffled thunder, and the pair very quickly pops out of existence before very quickly popping back in again. Just as the letter had promised, they were standing on a doorstep.
The door was green and the house was wooden, and there were plants all over the front step that curled around the visitor’s feet until Howl slapped them. Sophie looks around, taking in the small cottage; it seems too ordinary to be the architectural witness to the Wizard Howl’s childhood.
There’s two squat stories with shutters in need of painting, a pair of muddy rain boots tucked under the porch, a view of a lake and a shiny red horseless carriage parked in front. She recognizes the type of contraption from the time Michael, Howl and she had visited Wales.
“You mean to tell me that you could have very easily visited them all along?” Sophie says indignantly.
Howl scowls, taking in the sight of the car. “Well, technically yes, but I’ve been very busy. There was Calcifer and my establishment in Portsmouth and the setting up of my castle, and then Sulliman, and that whole kerfuffle with the Witch of the Waste, I’m sure you remember that-”
“Of course I remember, I just thought that sometime in the two years we’ve been married you could have mentioned your family to me, even just in passing. You’ve met all my family, you even courted my sister for awhile.”
Howl has the grace to look a little sheepish at that. “But you’ve met Megan and Mari and Neil-”
“Very briefly, and I’m sorry, but your sister is frightfully dull.”
“Well, she is the oddball of the family,” Howl concedes. “Everyone else is far more terrifying.”
“I think we should get to meeting them then,” Sophie announces, and with that she knocks on the door. Immediately shouting could be heard from the inside of the house.
“Initiate Plan A!” A very loud, angry-sounding male voice orders.
“No, clotpole, we’re going with plan M!” Another male voice argues.
“No, Plan A!”
A woman’s voice interrupts the screaming with,“I’ll see you two later, have fun!”
“Morgana, don’t you dare distract my son!”
“Brace yourself,” Howl whispers before the front door flies open. Standing before them is an immaculately dressed woman who looks quite a bit like Howl. Sharp features, long dark hair, and piercing eyes. Sophie briefly wonders if this is Howl’s mother, then decides that no one who had raised Howl would have so few wrinkles.
“Nephew!” She pulls Howl into tight embrace, whispering something in his ear. Howl looks very frightened indeed when she releases him, now loudly lecturing. “It’s lovely to see you again, though it appears my years of hoping that you’d somehow inherit a lick of good sense were wasted. I admire your fashion sense-that’s a lovely coat-but I must contribute to your chastisement.”
“Aunt ‘Gana, No!” Howl desperately tries to back away from the sorceress, but to no avail.
“Too late,” the woman-sorceress-says cheerily as her eyes glow and she draws a sigil in the air. “Familial power leeching spell, now you can’t wiggle out from your just punishment. Thanks for the power boost, by the way.” She wiggles her fingers, watching little sparks appear at the ends.
“Why do you have to help Dad torture me?”
“Because it’s fun, and you deserve it. But, since I adore you and all that, I will warn you that your Da’s just about ready to take up the sword against you, so you might want to prepare yourself.”
“That sounds absolutely fantastic, I’ll just be going now-” He attempts to run away, but Sophie grabs him quite firmly by the ear.
“No you won’t be going anywhere, we’re here now, you’re talking to them.”
The sorceress laughs, “I like this one. Morgana Le Fay,” she introduces herself, offering a well-manicured hand to Sophie. “Pleasure to meet someone who can keep my nephew in check. We’ll have to talk craft sometime, I can practically taste the power coming off you.”
“Witch Sophie-”
“Hatter! Hatter,” Howl interjects. Sophie shoots him a look asking why he doesn’t want his family to know they’re married. He just stares back, pleading her to go along with it.
“Sophie Hatter at your service madam, and I’d love to see you again.” Sophie says with a smile, firmly shaking Morgana’s hand and mentally rolling her eyes at her idiot husband.
“Excellent, I haven’t had a conversation with a proper Witch in ages-”
“I knew she’d like you better than me,” Howl grumbles.
“To be fair, I like almost everyone better than you. Don’t mistake me, you’re my nephew and I adore you, but you’re not very likeable.”
“ Thank you Aunt ‘Gana,” Howl huffs out, grabbing Sophie’s hand. “Come on, we may as well get this over with.”
Morgana makes to leave, “Lovely to meet you Sophie Pendragon, and welcome to the family. Have fun breaking the news that you’re married to the buffoons in there.”
“HOW DO YOU DO THAT?” Howl demands as Morgana walks over the porch and kneels in the dirt, drawing a symbol.
“It’s quite obvious when you know what to look for. Oh, and Sophie dear, good luck!” Morgana winks at her before saying a spell, turning on the spot and vanishing in a gust of wind.
“I like her.”
“Of course you would, but why would she wish you luck? If anyone needs luck it’s me.”
Sophie purses her lips nervously, not meeting Howl’s eyes. But seeing as offense is the best defense, Sophie answers his question with a question of her own. “ Why do we need so much luck for meeting with your parents anyway?”
“You didn’t think I came from a normal family, did you?”
“Certainly not, but just how far past normal are they?” Sophie asks as they cross the threshold. The door slams shut behind them, leaving the pair in a small foyer with rooms on either side and a steep staircase in front of them. The house is, simply put, a mess. Ancient looking books, dying plants, and copious amounts of laundry are scattered everywhere. There’s several small dragons nesting under couches and lounging on the stairs. An owl watches them from a coatrack, picking food off a plate. There’s various shouts coming from the room on their left, their owners remaining unseen for the time being.
“You’re about to find out.”
Some of the screaming becomes intelligible as an argument comes to a head,“We’re going with plan A, you-”, and is cut off suddenly.
There’s a loud thud and the unmistakable scent of magic that leaves Howl groaning, “They’re gonna kill each other….” as a classical bearded wizard emerges from the left room. Classical in the sense that his beard is very long and very dirty, his robe is in a similar state, he’s got a staff with many, many dents in it, and he looks slightly insane.
“Who dares enter my home?” The wizard booms, “Surely not my son, he’s either dead or extraordinarily stupid.”
Sophie can’t keep silent, “Why?”
“Why? WHY YOU SAY?” The sound of thunder fills the small space, forcing Howl and Sophie to cover their ears. “Because only the worst of any offspring would do what my son has done to me! Look how it has aged me! He abandoned us without so much as a farewell, and he would never dare to come back here-”
Howl cuts off the wizard’s tirade, “Dad, please take off the Dragoon spell.”
“This is your FATHER?” Sophie screeches.
“This is no spell! This is what you have done to me, so watch what I shall do to you!” The wizard’s eyes glow gold, and Howl screams as he finds himself dangling from the ceiling, secured by ropes of light.
“DAD!” The wizard-Dragoon?-ignores Howl’s howling and instead turns to face Sophie.
“Now who might you be?” He says pleasantly as his golden eyes fade to a dark blue.
“DAD LET ME DOWN!”
“I’m Sophie, Witch.”
“Dragoon, Warlock extraordinaire-”
Howl breaks out of his bonds with a shouted spell and is immediately held in place by another one, this time tied to the floor with green energy.
“Pleasure to meet you dear,” Dragoon shakes her hand kindly, eyes still glowing gold.
Howl breaks out of the spell and sends a purple cloud of smoke towards the wizard/warlock, causing the man to cough and wave his arms around.
“That is enough, young man!” Dragoon screams, and the wizards begin magically fighting in earnest, throwing balls of light and fire towards each other.
Sophie lets this go on for a minute or two, then realizes that they won’t stop anytime soon. She sighs, “ Men ,” before raising her arms to do some of her signature witch-work(which was mostly just making the world do what she wanted by virtue of not taking no for an answer). “Stop this now! This kind of behavior is not at all appropriate! Behave like civilized people!” Immediately the screaming and spellwork stops, Howl reluctantly floating down from where he was standing on a cloud. Dragoon frowns as he begins melting, clothes shifting while his beard begins receding and darkening.
When her magic finishes, Sophie standing before a man who could be Morgana’s brother. He’s pale with dark hair and sharp features, and while Howl is a bit taller, the man who was Dragoon is far scruffier. Sophie is used to Howl’s brand of wizardly flair: hair spells, fine perfumes, and dazzling robes of many colors. He obviously did not inherit his fashion sense from his father, who is wearing clothes that look like they’ve spent their life in a moldy basement.
“Dad, this is Sophie. Sophie, this my Dad.” Howl huffs out the introductions, obviously still rather peeved about the magical traps and power limitations.
Sophie shakes his hand again as he reintroduces himself with a sweet smile. “Merlin Pendragon, this one’s long suffering father,” he smirks and nudges Howl.
“Wait, if you’re his father, where’s your sword?” Sophie asks. “Morgana specifically mentioned his father coming after him with a sword and to be quite honest, I was looking forward to seeing that.”
“Oh, that’ll be Arthur. He’s the one with a temper-” Howl scoffs at this. “-and the sword skills. Magic’s more my department. But you’ve already seen that.” Howl stares at his father pointedly.
“Try being the long-suffering son,” he mutters. “I come home and the first thing you do is mess with my magic! You even got Aunt ‘Gana in on it!”
The man who was Dragoon is having none of this, turning on his son. “Oh, so it doesn’t feel good to have someone blocking you magic, does it? You should try Six years of location-seeking spells, only for me to realize that you’d gone and popped off to another dimension entirely and my spells were useless! And you put up a communications block!”
“I was very busy!”
“Too busy for family? Too busy to send a single letter?”
“I sent letters!”
“Not since I’ve known you,” Sophie interjects.
Merlin points at her excitedly, “Exactly! How long have you two known each other?”
“About two and a half years.” Sophie decides not to mention the several months she was under the aging spell, terrorizing Howl and Michael with a broom. “And in all that time, I never even knew he had parents! I thought he crawled out of a sewer somewhere!”
Merlin has a good long laugh at this. When he finally catches his breath, he simply pulls Howl into a hug. “We’ll talk more about this later, but I’ve missed you something awful, so just let me hug you real quick.”
“What’s the rush?” Howl asks as they part.
“Oh, well, you see, I may have-”
“Gods there’s two of them,” Sophie mutters as they wait for Merlin to get to the point.
“So there may have been several contingency plans in place for when you came home, and me and your Da were arguing over them because he’s a clotpole who doesn’t understand drama and how fun it is to be Dragoon or how impossible it is to stop Morgana from doing something once she’s set her mind to it, you think he’d realize this by now-”
“Get to the point, Dad.”
“I put a freeze spell on your Da so I could win the argument and it should be wearing off very soon.”
“How soon is soon?”
“HOWELL PENDRAGON!”
Merlin cringes, “Now.”
A very angry blonde man comes running in from the other room. He’s flushed, furious, and brandishing a sword in Howl’s direction as said wizard begins running for his life. Merlin calmly pulls Sophie to the side, “Just let them work it out. Arthur won’t actually hurt him, he’s just a bit mad.”
“Understandable,” Sophie concedes.
Howl knocks over a pile of books as Arthur chases him through the living room and back into the foyer. He shoves his hand into the umbrella stand as he passes, extracting a sword with a shocked laugh.
“Get back here!”
“Why does it always come back to this?” Howl screams as their blades cross.
The blonde man-presumably Arthur-begins hacking away, shouting the whole time. “Because you’re an irresponsible, uncaring, rude, selfish-” Sophie was beginning to like this man- “ Little brat! ”. Sophie nearly laughs when he disarms Howl with an expert flick of his wrist and marches forward. “I knew it, the minute you started on the magic I knew it.” Howl raises his arms in surrender as Arthur presses the sword point into his chest. “I knew you’d run wild and cause trouble and we’d lose you to it!” The sword lowers a fraction, tears springing to Arthur’s eyes. “And we did! We lost you.”
“I’m right here Da, all in one piece.” Howl spreads his arms wide, in that moment looking remarkably like Arthur, all blond hair and waterglass eyes and the barest hint of a smile.
“You’re never leaving this house again if you want to stay that way.”
“Ever?” The sword is raised again. “We’ll discuss arrangements later!” Arthur pulls Howl into a hug before any more protests can be made, squeezing him ridiculously tight and burying his face into Howl’s hair.
The almost sweet-if-you-ignore-the-swords-family moment is interrupted by Sophie. “That’s it?” She screeches incredulously. “This is what you were afraid of? You were yelled at for all of ten minutes! He didn’t even nick you, you great horrible coward of a man! And you two!” She points to Arthur and Merlin, “He’s gone for six years with not a word and this is how you receive him? If he were my son, well first I’d regret creating him, and then I’d wallop him into next Tuesday!” The dramatic speech is somewhat ruined as one of the dragons wandering around the house proceeds to decide Sophie’s head is a good place for a nest. She gently places it on the floor before exploding with, “Would someone please explain to me what is going on!”
At the end of this little tirade, she’s breathing heavily, having successfully terrified all the Pendragon men. Arthur quietly whispers to Merlin, “I like this girl,” before being silenced by Sophie’s glare. There’s no more sound for awhile.
“Well? Do you have anything to say for yourselves?”
Howl’s had enough. “Must everyone attack me today? I can understand them, but you!” He whirls on Sophie with a wonderfully dramatic twirl of his coat, “You’re supposed to be on my side!”
“Maybe I’d be more sympathetic with you if you weren’t so incredibly stupid!”
“I like her too,” Merlin whispers back to Arthur.
“”I’m not stupid, I just have my own ways of doing things!”
“Foolish ways!”
“You’re just a meddler, Mrs. Nose! I wouldn’t even have come here if it weren’t for you!”
“Oh no, you know what I am, you silly secretive waste of a wizard! If I’m any Missus, I’m Mrs. Pendragon!” There’s a small choking noise from Arthur. “Have fun explaining why we didn’t invite your parents to our wedding! Oh right, I didn’t know they existed! Why you can’t actually talk to your family and tell us things is beyond me, but there. Your final little secret’s been spoiled.” She crosses her arms self-satisfactorily.
“Why do you insist on torturing me?”
“You’re married?” Merlin interrupts with a face-splitting smile. “I have a daughter-in-law!” He raises his arms and hugs Sophie with a single minded intensity.
“You went and got married?” Arthur squeaks out.
Howl heaves a mighty sigh. “Yes, Sophie and I are married, and look what good it does me!” He and Sophie proceed to have a very intense staring contest as they continue their conversation. “I wouldn’t even have come here if it weren’t for this meddler-”
“Thank you then, Sophie.” Arthur whispers, still rather shell-shocked.
“You’re welcome. It’s a lot of work to get this idiot to do anything.”
“I do plenty of things!”
“None of them sensible!”
“I live with you, don’t I? You can be sensible for the both of us!”
“Okay, that’s enough!” Arthur pries the two apart, sensing that this argument will never end if they’re left to their own devices. Merlin shoos away several small dragons on some furniture that vaguely resembles couches and steers the group towards them. Howl and Sophie sit on opposite ends of the couch and refuse to look at each other; Howl pets a dragon while Sophie focuses on her new parents in law.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you both,” she starts politely, realizing that this is their first proper introduction.
“The same to you,” Arthur says cordially, propping his sword against the arm of the couch, “I just have one question. What is someone like you, obviously well in control of your mental faculties, doing with my lump of a son? Surely you can do better.”
“Oi! I’m not like I was in uni, Da! ‘M not a lump. I’ll have you know I’m rather established in Ingary, with an apprentice and everything.”
Merlin’s eyes light up. “The other dimension! Tell me everything, no details left out!” He leans closer to Sophie, “I’m very jealous of him, you know. My magic keeps me very much in this world.”
“How? You seem powerful enough.”
“It’s a long story-”
“Very long!” Arthur interjects.
“A very long story, but my magic ties me to the land and this great prat here.” He playfully bumps shoulders with Arthur, and based on the look of fond annoyance he receives in return, Sophie would say they’re quite in love. “I can’t really go popping around space and time much, even when one of the idiots in my life goes missing-”
“How many times do I have to say it, I wasn’t missing, I sent letters!” Howl throws a pillow at Merlin, but the warlock stops it mid air and redirects it towards Arthur. Sophie thinks she is beginning to understand the strange blend of antagonism and love living in this house; her and Howl’s castle is not so different.
Arthur throws the pillow back towards Howl, mussing his hair. “You haven’t sent us anything in three years at least, Howell. It’s not enough, especially when Megan says you’ve been to see her.”
“I had to visit Neil and Mari-”
“Gods keep you from being an influence on those children.”
“Oh shut it, your Majesty .” Howl snarks, rolling his eyes in the way that means he loves whoever has just been speaking, even if they’re annoying. Sophie knows that eye roll well.
“Wait,” she freezes, eyes wide. “ Majesty ? Howl, please tell me I haven’t just yelled at royalty.”
“Oh, you did.” Howl and Merlin respond in unison while Arthur looks insufferably smug. “But he hasn’t been properly royal in ages,” Merlin drawls.
“Don’t worry about it,” Arthur reassures her. “Everyone here yells at me. All the time. Constantly,” He stares at Merlin pointedly.
“Someone’s got to keep you from getting a big head. And anyway Gwen never yells at you-” Howl starts laughing, “Okay, she only yells when she’s very angry with you.”
“How is Aunt Gwen?”
“The smithy-”
“It’s not called a smithy anymore Arthur.”
“I’ll call it what I like! Her smithy’s doing well, lots of orders and Leon’s learning fast. No one can make a sword like her, even now, so she’s always busy.”
“She’s invited you for tea and sparring on Wednesday-”Merlin reminds him.
“Same time as usual?”
“Of course. Gwaine and ‘Gana will be there.”
“Why are we giving the perpetually drunk or hungover man a sword again?”
Arthur shrugs, “He was drunk most of the time he was a knight, never killed anyone he wasn’t supposed to.”
“Wait, there’s knights now?” Sophie is no stranger to odd families, she lives with a wizard and a fire demon for gods sakes, but she’s beginning to lose track of her new relatives, and she may have just married into royalty. She faces Howl. “You’re telling me you have a sorceress for an Aunt, royalty and a warlock for parents, another aunt who makes swords, uncles that are knights, and -”
“Don’t forget the dragons!” Merlin insists. “They’re family too!”
Sophie rests her head on the back of the couch, bringing one hand to cradle her stomach. “What on earth am I bringing this child into?” She breathes out. Then her eyes go wide. “Ooops.”
“You’re pregnant!” Merlin screeches, tackling a catatonic Arthur with his joy. Arthur’s mumbling something about how a child of Howl’s is going to bring about the end of Albion, and Sophie has to fend off Merlin’s aggressive hugs.
Sophie turns to Howl. “I’ve been waiting to tell you, I didn’t think it would happen today-”
“I’m going to be a father?” He whispers.
Sophie nods. “We’re going to be parents.” She may have started crying right then, because the world’s gone blurry, but Howl is holding her now and he’s not exactly dry-eyed either. He kisses her fiercely through their smiles. It’s shaping up to be a very good day for the Pendragons.