For as long as he can remember -- or at least as long as he can remember since he's lived in Ingary -- Howl has never panicked at anything. There are things that have given him pause; he's run from pursuit; he's had to talk himself into being brave enough to fight certain battles; he's been casual and sarcastic while faced with danger
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So instead she carefully focuses her eyes on his wedding suit. It fits him perfectly. Every stitch is secure; she made very certain of that, poring over it with fierce attention. Howl, she knows, has the impression that she's stuffed it full of spells. Howl doesn't know, and if Sophie has her way will never know, that there isn't a single charm on the entire thing. She's made it entirely with her hands, no shortcuts allowed for this, just the way she used to make her sisters' dresses before she ever knew she was a witch.
Sophie remembers perfectly well the Witch of the Waste's plans to trap Howl's heart. The idea makes her cringe. Howl's heart, if it stays with her, will have to do so of its own volition.
Terrifying, terrifying thought - but it gets her to the altar, and as her sisters and her mother and all the rest fade away she's standing in front of Howl, and lets herself at last look up at his face.
Well.
He's really here, she thinks, idiotically, and becomes aware, as if from far away, that she's smiling as if she'll never, ever stop.
Wizard Suliman's saying something - something about love and duty and faithfulness, and she knows the words, she heard them when her father married Fanny and she read them when they were planning out the ceremony and writing vows, but if you asked her right now she wouldn't be able to tell you a single thing that he's saying.
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