Once Lost Now Found

[Cecily Rambolt]

Slowly she straightened, her skin darkened by the sun, one hand rose to brush back the short, curly golden hair that barely touched her neck. The hand me down sundress, its sky blue terry cloth material worn nearly indecently thin in areas, could not mask the fact that she obviously was no couch potato. Musculature hard won in the months of rehabilitation and the slow, hot days of farm work to earn her keep had toned the blonde's body so that she nearly had not one ounce of fat on her. Within a face blank of expression glowed eyes a deep green, the lustrous sparkle they once housed faded and gone. As she wove her way through the street fair, unease skittered down her spine, the familiar pins and needles feeling crawling through her nerve endings until her teeth clenched.

Carefully she took in those around her but other than the local merchants packing up their goods and the weary families calling it a day, she did not see anything that should cause such disturbance within her. Yet it lingered and she wanted to be back in the small place she called home. It took everything within her to walk in her normal calm gait through the rapidly thinning crowd and darkening streets. She could no longer hold it in and without pause, turned around a corner without pausing to make sure her way was clear.

 

[Hades Styx]

It had been a long time since Hades had spoken to Cecily Zhefarovich, lost and without memories. Some things were not meant to turn out like this, however. The Guardian of his family kept his cold eyes upon her for a while now, and it was tonight when Hades finally decided to bring Cecily home. This would be willingly or unwillingly, for someone in the family must stay within the family. It was the law. With a faintest of smirks painted upon his ever ghostly white face, he made his move by simply allowing Cecily to bump into him. It had been easy for Hades, watching the fear slowly build from being watched from afar, and now she was just bumping into her long lost nephew.

Hades did not say anything at first, but he did ruffle his trenchcoat - non-stained one - so it was still straight on his chest and his body. Hades slowly gazed at the somewhat changed Cecily, and he murmured, "I must apologize, I should have been watching where I was going." The words were as smooth as freshly spun spider's silk, and did not lose their creepy edge either. "Women as beautiful as you should never be out this late, isn't that right..." Hades paused for a moment, before he allowed a name to slip past his lips, "...Cecily."

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

Her mouth had opened, hands raised palm forward, an apology halfway past her pinkened lips, when her eyes collided with his. It was as though ice water coursed through her veins and an invisible fist punched through her gut. Cecily. Buzzing began in her ears, nothing penetrating the deep fog that one word wove within the blank, empty spots within her mind. The wail of a child, the deep and unmistakable male laughter, the most tantalizing scent. Just as she grasped at the memories, at anything from before her accident, they vanished. Disappeared like smoke. Peering into the devilish smoky eyes of the tall, handsome young man, she knew one thing. This man knew her. Somehow, he knew her. But to what purpose? Was he the one responsible for what had happened to her? The scars that marred her skin, still pink and fresh, began to itch their phantom itch at the thought.

The dangerous aura the smooth talking stranger put off made her want to leave, to get away from him as quickly as possible. She wanted to know what he knew first. Her eyes hardened, slender fingers straightened the strap that stubbornly refused to stay put on her shoulder. "Look kid, my name's not Cecily." Carefully, slowly, she put another step of space between them as she acted as though she were casually stepping back. Possibly to adjust to looking up at the tall stranger. "Have you been following me?"

 

[Hades Styx]

Hmmm, I could have a little fun with this. So stubborn and hot-headed, Hades purred his thoughts in his mind. He folded his arms across his chest, and wondered if she had to see the tattoo upon her shoulder and the matching one on his back in order to understand just how they were connected. Hades inquired, almost mockingly, "Then what is your name? From what I know, I have always known you as Cecily Analise Zhefarovich. It was Rambolt before you were married." Hades watched her take a step back, but he knew that if she tried to run, there was no hiding from him. It was almost impossible for her to lose him after he had already found her. Poor hopeless Cecily, she could not remember a thing. Hades would have felt pity for her, but he did not. Hades was going to make the most of this situation.

"I wouldn't say that I have been following you," spoke the young man. "But I can say I have been keeping an eye on you. From a far distance of course. That is how I know that you don't remember anything. All your memories are gone. In fact, I could tell you exactly where your scars come from." Hades smirked slightly, and he was enjoying this. It was like dangling a raw steak in front of a werewolf. "Don't you want to see your daughter?" Hades murmured chillingly into the night air. She could have it all back, her happy life, if she chose to.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

It couldn't be this easy, could it? Nothing had been, not since the day she opened her eyes, took that first gasping, painful breath weeks after the accident. She could not remember who she was. She could not remember anything about the woman she had been or anyone that had made an impact in her life, big or small. Why was it that this young man, with his smooth, alluring voice and chilling eyes, could possibly be the key to her past? Her name...married? It was too much, too fast, yet the words that struck the most within her was when he asked if she wanted to see her daughter. Trembling fingers pressed to her flat, muscle indented belly; a child could have once grown within her? Her child, out there...without her?

Even as it somehow rang true within her, familiar doubts soured any hint of hope that rose. Fingers closed, fisted, fell to her side. She had no stretch marks on her body. If her chest had once nursed a child, she would laugh until she withered and died. Nothing about her physically said that she had ever born a baby. "So what?" Her hands flew to her hips, something flaring, sparking within her eyes as she felt the first stirrings of any emotion since awakening months ago. Anger. It bristled within her, heating her blood. "I'm supposed to believe the words of some creeper off the street? Thanks but no thanks kid," she sneered the word into his face, coming forward and poking a finger bluntly into his hard chest. "Back the f*** off and leave me the hell alone or I call the cops. Got me?"

Anger replaced any fear she had once felt. Had she had her memories, especially the ones of Hades and his family, she never would have turned around. Never would have presented her back to him as she stalked away, the skirt of her dress swirling jerkily around her slender thighs as she walked away. The woman she once had been would have known better than to ever think she could get away from a Zhefarovich...or any of their bloodline.

 

[Hades Styx]

"So, you don't know your name." Hades' expression was nothing short of amusement. He enjoyed this Cecily. She had been feisty before, not nothing like now. This was getting funner and funner, but if things got too physical, then Hades would be rather pissed off than amusement. There was no warning or line to his snapping. Hades spoke, his tone cold, "Better than having no one tell you who you really are. Believe some creeper or not, it is your choice, and you know that I am right. From the bottom of your heart, you know what I am saying is true. But you are being too damn stubborn to even consider it." Hades wondered if she even knew of the tattoo on her shoulder.

"The cops? Are you being serious?" laughed Hades. "They can't help you now. By the time they arrived, it would be too late for you." Hades' expression darkened from its humorous state. "That sounds so muggle-like of you," hissed Hades, attempting to contain his laughter. Everything tonight was just hilarious. From her poking him in the chest, and her cursing to calling the muggle cops. Who were they to stand up to a man like him?

When she started to walk away, it was just fueling him to continue in this chase. Hades did not waste a second in not letting Cecily get away from him. Hades would not let her win, after all, this was his game. Hades reached with one hand and firmly grabbed Cecily on the shoulder, enough to stop her, but not so hard where it would bruise her body. "Ah, I see the tattoo is still there. But you aren't going anywhere, daisy. Willingly or kicking and screaming, you are coming with me. You have so many people just dying to see you." Hades smirked a bit, and though many people that were waiting to see her were elsewhere, Hades would have to take her to the Zhefarovich Manor. It was the closest, and he would also show her the tree as well. If she didn't have her memories, did she even remember she was a witch?

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

Fury unlike any she had ever known spiked through her; although how was she to know she had not been this angry in her other life? His taunting words, his sly yet dangerous expressions irked her. Her skin burned from where his hand, cool yet oddly rough, grasped her within a seemingly unbreakable grasp. Yet it didn't just burn, it felt as though her molecules were bubbling, boiling within, something...something aching to be released. "Let-me-GO!" she shouted, whirling on the ball of her foot. Pulling back, she couldn't break free. Her hand flew to his and as soon as her flesh brushed his, she wished she hadn't. Electricity shot from her fingers, seemingly from her very hand, onto his flesh. Gaping at him, astonishment replaced the anger on her face until the color drained from her normally tanned features.

"What is this?" Words whispered from lips gone numb from shock, green eyes flew to his and in that instant she knew. He told the truth. And it was the truth, not his words, not his actions, not the fact she could remember none of which he spoke, that filled her with fear so foul and treacherous, the acrid smell filled her nose.

 

[Hades Styx]

Hades glanced down at her hand, and he too felt it. So, she didn't know that she was a witch. Hades chuckled and he smirked, "Oh that happens a lot. It is called, 'Magic' and you will get used to it." It was as if he were talking to a five-year-old. Hades had not released her from his grip. "You better take a deep breath, because if you aren't used to magic, you definite won't be used to this." Hades put his other hand on Cecily's shoulder, made sure no one was watching, and then he apparated. The trip was short for him, but uncomfortable still. The room was much warmer and the air was a lot more tense than the night. Hades slowly released Cecily's shoulders. He wondered, if she would last after that trip without fainting or something on the bad side. Hades hoped not.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

She bit back the scream that welled in her throat as her entire being was squeezed through a tiny tube. Compressed uncomfortably, the breath left her lungs until they burned and then it was over. Vaguely she felt his hands slip from her. Her legs shook, her head swum, black spots flew before her eyes. Her hands shot out to grab purchase on something, anything as her legs threatened to give out. She grasped the lapels of his trenchcoat, sagging against him for a moment, loathing having to use him for any type of support. Just as quickly, the spell was over, her legs regained their strength and her head jerked up. "Don't you ever," her hand whipped out toward his cheek, "do that to me again!" So angry with him, she didn't realize that he had taken them somewhere else.

 

[Hades Styx]

Hades was a little more than shocked when she went to slap him. He was barely able to dodge it. Hades rolled his eyes and he hissed, rather annoyed that someone tried to smack him, "What the hell, Cecily. Look around you." Hades had half a mind to just whip out his wand and curse her into next Tuesday. Instead he too looked around, and he found only one other person in the room. His father. He seems preoccupied with a book by the fire, pacing back and forth. Hades rolled his eyes and he muttered in Russian, "It would be easier showing a muggle magic than showing it to her."

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

She bared her teeth at him, livid that her palm hadn't made solid contact with his flesh. His irritation was enough to soothe the anger within her for a moment, long enough for her to jerk back a few steps and actually take in her surroundings. Yet as her head started to turn to follow his gaze, his lowly spoken condescending words made her teeth grind together. "She is right in front of you, arrogant jerk!" Arms crossed, so intent on turning her attention anywhere but the insolent whelp in front of her, her narrowed green eyes glanced around her. It didn't occur to her that she had spoken in fluent Russian, her accent every bit as authentic as his. The room was warm, spacious and obviously belonged to money. Many books lined the shelves on a wall, a large tree with what appeared to be names and small pictures on another. Her attention was quickly captured, though, by the very person the young man behind her had been staring at.

 

[Hades Styx]

"I guess you know that I think you are being rather difficult then. I much preferred you when you were pregnant." Hades smirked down at Cecily, and he turned to see Kalif completely. Hades announced in English, "Father, we have a new-old arrival in the family. She is about as mindless as a muggle. Can't remember a damn thing." Hades chuckled and he smirked over at Cecily. The spark in his eyes showed that he was not being serious. Hades went to a sofa and he sat down and put his hand over his chin, as he wondered what would happen tonight. Hades chuckled, to himself, as he knew for a fact that he did not tell Cecily anything. She did not even know who her husband was. It was amusing, really.

 

[Professor Kalif Styx]

While Damianos and Nicolas were with their mother back in New Zealand, Kalif had come to the Zhefarovich Manor to do some tedious research. He flipped through the pages written in Bulgarian, and he did not even notice those that entered the lair. Kalif continued to read, but when he heard a somewhat unfamiliar voice in Russian. Kalif stopped reading, and he did not dare to look, until Hades called out to him. Kalif's cold gaze landed on Cecily. The last he had seen of her was when she was plunging over a cliff. It was rather odd to see her standing here, and Hades said that she couldn't remember anything? So, the tree was telling the truth. Kalif closed the book, and he set it to the side. Kalif slowly approached Cecily, and he murmured, "The last I saw of you, Cecily, was when you were plunging over a cliff by James and I was too late to save you." Kalif did not know how to approach the situation at hand. Where would she be staying? Going to Prodan's might be a bit overwhelming, but would it be the best?

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

She threw a nasty look toward the young man. She'd show him mindless alright, when she was kneeing his b-...her vicious thought trickled from her mind as the impossibly tall, blond haired man froze with book in hand. No. Please no. The Fates weren't this unkind, were they? she pondered, head tilting back as he approached her. Yes please, Fates. Take away my life, my memories. Then give a semblance of them back through an arrogant upstart and his father...Oh God. His father! So, this was her husband? Why else would the younger one have brought her here? Her husband. Impossibly tall, handsome, she grudgingly admitted, a flicker of feminine interest flaring for one moment before banking. His aura was like the other one. Dark, dangerous...predatory.

She had fought through hours of grueling and tortuous physical therapy until tears streamed down her face and sweat soaked her body. She had worked from sun up til sun down on a run down old farm for the old couple who had taken care of her. All without complaint or any emotion. So many emotions welled up within her at the thought of being married, with a child, and possibly the smart ass on the couch for a step son that it became too much. Magic was real. One moment she was standing in a street, the next she was here. She didn't remember her eyes rolling in the back of her head, nor of the soft sigh that left her lips as her hair flew around her face like a soft cloud as she hurtled toward the hard floor, oblivious to the world.

 

[Professor Kalif Styx]

Kalif was a little shocked to see tears. What in the world was wrong with her? Was she this happy to see her brother-in-law? That was absurd. No one should be that happy to see him, of all people. Kalif raised an eyebrow and he glanced toward Hades who seemed to be getting a real kick in the situation. Cecily managed to fall, and Kalif muttered, "Kakvo, po dyavolite, si e problema?" What the hell is her issue? Kalif turned to Hades and he ordered in English this time, "At least you found her. I guess I will take her home." Kalif bent down and lifted Cecily up and carried her over his shoulder. Kalif apparated off, soon to arrive at Prodan's house. Once there, he put Cecily down in the dark bedroom, of their home. Kalif leaned against the wall and awaited for his brother's arrival. Kalif was blanketed by the shadows, and it was hard to tell if he was there or not.

 

[Prodan Zhefarovich]

It had been a late night. Prodan had been down in the dumps over Cecily's death. Sure, her body wasn't found, but it still gave him such a hard time. Prodan let out a sigh, gave the baby-sitter her pay and she left. Elisaveta was quiet and asleep now. He walked up the stairs and he took off his white shirt once he entered his bedroom. Prodan walked right by his brother and did not even notice Kalif in the room. He was going to climb into bed when he saw a mass of blonde hair. "Oh god, I told Arnost to leave hookers out of my bed. Jeez..." Prodan reached down and moved some of the blonde hair to see a familiar face. The face that belonged to the woman Prodan thought was dead. Letting out a gasp, he backed into the wall, a thud echoing in the room. His silver eyes met with his brothers, and Prodan shouted, with emotions of sorrow, fear, and misery, "What the hell! You brought my dead wife back to me? What is this? A cruel joke? This is not funny!" Then, Cecily moved just a fraction, which in turned, made Prodan flip. "Holy ****! She's a zombie!" Prodan had watched Pirates of Carribean, you see. Those pirates were undead, which made Prodan now think that she could be one of them.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

She stirred on the bed at the loud noises coming from nearby. The bed was so soft and warm, the pillow cradled her head as if made for it; she never wanted to move again. Merely sleep the awful dreams away of a wicked young man with a sharp tongue and the blond haired giant. More loud noises disturbed her restless slumber. Jerking up, peering bleary eyed at the vague outlines of two tall figures, she clipped out in a brittle British tone, "If you both value your bollocks, you'll shut the hell up AND LET ME SLEEP!" Huffing, she rolled over, one long leg straightened out, the other bent against the soft blankets; her worn terry cloth dress rode up on her thighs, essentially and unknowingly providing her forgotten husband a flash of golden, very toned thighs. Once more, her breathing evened out, sleep overtaking her.

 

[Prodan Zhefarovich]

Prodan saw Kalif's cold stare basically told him to calm down and come to his senses. He watched his brother leave in a hurry, after Cecily had shown much of her legs. Prodan smiled a bit, but was still shocked over the fact that she was alive. Here. In bed. Prodan sighed, and he removed the rest of his clothing and he climbed under the covers. It felt so good to have Cecily back, but little did he know...she was without memories. Sleep had taken him hostage for the night. Prodan had many happy dreams of finally having his family back together.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

Sometime during the night she had burrowed her way under the covers, seeking out the source of heat, which happened to come from her forgotten husband. She had not slept peacefully nor through a night without tossing or turning since she awoke from her coma. Closer and closer she got to within that source of heat and also the source of that alluring, wonderful scent that had eluded her except in dreams, until she was flush to his body. Within the night, she had wound herself around him; blonde curls tucked behind his chin, arm draped over his hard chest, legs entwined with his. Occasionally she would turn her head, even in her sleep, until she could take in more and more of his scent. No dreams crossed within the realm of her sleep. Only vague blurs and sketchy outlines ran along the base of her dreamscape, never fully entering into anywhere that they would linger.

Sighing, she burrowed closer against him, unknowing that she was finally home, finally with her beloved husband. When she awoke fully, he would be a stranger to her. But now, somehow, part of her knew, stay asleep, stay close. Don't wake fully quite yet, keep close.

 

[Prodan Zhefarovich]

The morning sun bathed Prodan and Cecily on the bed under the covers through the window. Silver eyes fluttered open, and he yawned. He felt someone cuddled next to him, and Prodan pulled Cecily even closer. He loved her body against his. It felt right, like the final piece in a complicated jigsaw puzzle. Prodan had no idea...what Cecily had been through. But he took this time to gaze over her familiar body. Many scars...it was just heartbreaking. Prodan instead wanted to get his mind off of what Cecily had been through. He softly pressed his lips to hers, and he murmured, "Wake up, darling." Prodan had waited for Cecily for many months. Any time with her was valued.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

Wake up, darling. Soft, whispered words fluttered within her subconscious, stirring her to awaken from her blissful sleep. Stubbornly she clung to the vast, empty dreamworld, relishing the heat, the scent and then...the kiss. Her head turned toward it, a contended sigh escaping her lips as they brushed his. She did not speak, could not utter anything other than to breathe him in, to let her fingers slide up the corded neck and thread within the soft hair on the back of his head. She pressed closer, lips connecting with his, as though her old self were vying for control of her body. Joyfully she let her past essence guide her to press against him, inquisitive hands lightly skimming over muscled arms with their fine dusting of hair, along his ribcage until she was essentially hugging him to her, both hands tracing and running up and down his back.

 

[Prodan Zhefarovich]

Prodan was too happy that Cecily was so willing, so early. Prodan breathed her name, and his own hands explored her body. Prodan was just too into it, now that she had stroked his spine. She still had the touch, which led him to believe that nothing was wrong. She had happened to know just the right places to touch for an activity such as this.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

His hands, calloused and warm, lit a fire within her. If she had kept her eyes closed and let him sweep her away with his familiar lovemaking...yet she did not. She drew back to take air into her starving lungs from his long, passionate kiss, when her green eyes finally slid open. Slowly and hazily with sleep, she quickly recognized that whatever familiarity she had had with him during her semi-sleep stage quickly vanished. What had once seemed a glorious dream became some sort of bizarre otherworldly nightmare. A stranger was in her bed. A stranger held her close to his naked body. A stranger whispered words of love and touched with intimate surety. As though he had done so a million times...only she could remember none of those times, if they had happened before at all.

The last thing she remembered before blacking out was the face of the blond haired man and his smirking son. Where was she? Who was she? Who was this man in her arms? Jerking back, righting her thin dress, she fought with the blankets until her feet found purchase on the floor. Hugging her arms to her body, green eyes wild as they met his confused silver gaze, she stood there shivering. "Who are you?"

 

[Prodan Zhefarovich]

What started out to be great, turned into a complete nightmare. Cecily had stopped, and she jumped out of bed. This was no game of cat and mouse. Prodan pulled the blanket to cover the main areas of his body, and he sat up in bed, staring into her green eyes with a befuddled expression. Prodan bit his lip, and he then gasped when the words passed through her lips. He had half a mind not to believe it, but deep in his heart, he knew... She couldn't remember anything. "I'm Prodan...Zhefarovich. Um, your husband... Your um, daughter is in the nursery... Don't you remember anything?" Sadness laced his words, and worry was washed over his face. Something was deeply wrong. What had happened to Cecily? Was she...no longer his? Would he have to win her over again? Prodan wouldn't mind doing that, but everything she was before, it was all a memory she no longer had.

 

[Cecily Rambolt]

Prodan. She stared at him with widened eyes before slowly a choked sound escaped her throat. She covered her face with her hands and to the man on the bed, it might appear as though she were crying. Until her hands rose to sweep through the short golden curls that barely brushed her neck, so different from her waist length hair from her previous life, and the unmistakable sounds of relieved laughter broke through. "You-you're my husband?" She couldn't help it, she laughed until her chest hurt and only the occasional hitch to her breathing evened out, the laughter gone, caused by the relief that had flooded her at his words. "I thought that the other one...the giant blond haired man," she explained, scrubbing her hands over her face in exasperation before lowering them to cup her elbows, "I thought he was my husband. The Fates haven't abandoned me fully, it seems," she murmured, more to herself than to him.

Green eyes alight with a wholly feminine gaze of appreciation for the hard muscled, tanned body before her, his incredibly handsome face and alluring scent, his fascinating accent. Yet it wasn't that that had caused the relief to pour through her like a living thing. It was the kindness, the heartfelt sorrow within his silver eyes, the aura of goodness that emanated from him a balm to soothe the panicked fear she'd felt moments before. She shook her head, coming to an abrupt stop. "Daughter?" Her daughter...their child...she still did not believe any of it, not from the ghostly pale young man and sadly not from the remorseful man...Prodan, her...husband. How could she have born a child? Her stomach, flat and ridged with taut muscles, not one stretch mark common place with pregnancy marred her skin. It didn't feel right to her.