Missing memory

Majesta woke with a start and came to a sitting position on the bed. She felt like she was underwater for a few moments. As her head cleared enough for her to see where she was. Wait…where the hell was, she? The memories of the night before came flooding back to her. The man and the rain…she looked down at her body to find that she was naked on the bed. Being naked in the bed didn’t mean that anything happened. It just meant that her clothes had been soaked clean through. Maybe the man had tried to get her dry clothes? Thoughts of other things wouldn’t jump into her mind.

As she looked around her eyes stopped when they found the first picture of the man that had taken her. Taken was a strong word for it in truth, because she hadn’t really stopped him. Majesta was a black belt in Kenpo, but she hadn’t fought this man. She had fallen right into his bed. Well not really into the bed, but right into his arms the night before.

Okay, she had to get herself together and figure a way out of this. He couldn’t keep her here right? Well he could, because she could recall trying to get up and thinking she was tied to the bed but no ropes or anything being there. That thought alone brought the fight or flight in her. This man had taken her, and they had vanished, but that wasn’t possible, was it? It was starting to give her a headache and she didn’t have anything to take away the pain. A sharp pain trailed down her back from the base of her neck. A knock on the door startled her, making her jump and twist her neck. It popped and she sighed in relief. She almost fell off the bed.

The door creaked open and her eyes went to the door. Standing in the doorway was a young woman with long black hair. The dress she wore was far from the normal everyday wear. It dragged on the floor and looked like it was made of wool or some other heavy material. It was drab in the coloring, but it fit her well. The dress had a corset type top that pushed her breasts in and up. It didn’t look comfortable at all, and she seemed to hate the thing. How the hell would she know the woman hated the dress? It was a feeling that swam in her mind and down to her heart making her rub at her chest. Also, why the hell did the woman look just like her? It was strange enough to be taken and left in a room naked, but to see someone that could be your twin? That was off the charts strange.

“My lady” the woman gave a short bow “good evening to you.”

Majesta looked at her confused. The woman seemed to think that funny. It was hard enough to think that this woman was laughing at her, even worse was the fact that she felt like she had really missed something.

“Where am I?” The question slipped right out of her mouth before she could stop it.

“The Isle of mist,” the young woman spoke at her, not to her.

“What?” Majesta’s eyes got as big as saucers, the woman laughed. Anger flared to life in Majesta and she jumped out of the bed. The moment she did it, she knew it was a bad idea, for she didn’t have the strength to hold her body up. She wobbled and fell to the floor; Majesta looked up at the woman and glared.

“Miss, are you all right?” she came rushing toward her, but Majesta waved her off. The woman didn’t seem all that worried, more pissed if you asked her. Tears still burned at the back of her eyes and she wanted to scream that she was not alright, but she didn’t want to make more of an ass of herself. So she sat on the cold stone floor, wondering if she could really catch her death this way.

“I’m fine, but I can’t be on the Isle of Mist,” Majesta said with a pout on her face.

“Ye are on the Isle Miss,” the woman said.

“My name is Majesta. Please call me that.” She started to get up and found herself right back on her bottom. The fact that she was nude bothered her, but she couldn’t fix that now. Majesta needed to stand up first. So she slowly tried to stand, but she landed yet again on her rump. She would have a bruise there if she didn’t stop.

“Let me help ye.” The woman moved toward her and Majesta jerked away from her. A smile appeared on her face and she moved away, this time faster than she would have thought possible. It was weird to see someone move so fast. After a few moments she found herself back on the bed.

“Do you have a name?” Majesta asked. When she looked at the woman it made Majesta think she knew her.

“Yes, it is Amèliä.” Amèliä moved away from the bed, then went to stoke the fire. It was almost out but she didn’t seem to mind the cold like Majesta did. Goose flesh was crawling up her body. She wondered where her clothes had ended up and how the hell she had ended up here. She looked around the room for her clothes.

“You say I am on the Isle of Mist. Where is that per say?” Majesta pulled a blanket up to cover her nude body. It didn’t make much sense why she was shy, it never really bothered her before.

“You are in Ireland…well not really; it is a small Isle that most can’t find,” Amèliä said.

Now Majesta was really confused. How could she be halfway across the world when she didn’t recall getting on a plane, let alone it taking less than a night to get there? She was also confused on what time of day it was, seeing as there were no windows in this place. Majesta looked around the room and still came up dry on a clock to tell her the time of day. Her body was stiff and she had a feeling she had been laying there for more than a few hours.

“What time is it? Hell, what day is it?” Majesta asked. The fire was starting to warm the room.

“It is around midday, and it is the 2nd of November,” Amèliä told her.

Holy shit, she had been gone for two days, she wondered if anyone was looking for her. With her free hand she pushed her long black hair out of her face and wished she had a brush. The tears she had been pushing back started to roll down her face, burning her skin as they went. The urge to scream, fight, but she didn’t really know who to fight. Amèliä stopped what she was doing to look at Majesta.

She didn’t seem to understand why Majesta was crying; it wasn’t really that hard to figure out. Majesta put her face into her hands and let the tears roll down. The door to the room slammed open and a man appeared in the frame. Amèliä turned glaring at the figure for a moment then thought better of it going back to work. The man walked to her bed to sit with her. Majesta knew who it was before he even sat down; she could feel him like he was a part of her. It scared her that he was that important to her and yet she didn’t even know his name. When his hand touched her, Majesta jumped and moved to the far side of the bed. She could feel his disappointment and she wanted to smile be happy about that. She couldn’t stop the sadness that overtook her at that moment. Majesta didn’t want to upset this man and she sure in the world didn’t want him mad at her.

“Mo chroí, what is the matter?” She looked at him and wanted to know what he had said, it wasn’t English, that was for sure. The look in those green eyes welcomed her but she had a feeling she shouldn’t look him in the eyes. The feeling of swimming came over her and she felt her body move back toward him. It wasn’t her, but it was. She lay against his chest and cried till his shirt was soaked.

Majesta’s body was cold to the touch and when she was close to him, she felt warm. This didn’t seem right in her mind, but she didn’t want to move. The feel of his hands on her body was a welcome joy. She didn’t hear the door close or Amèliä leave. All Majesta knew was him, the feel of his hard body, the way he smelled of cloves. His arms went around her to hug her to his chest; he seemed to pet her. In a deep part of her mind however, something screamed to move away. That this man wasn’t right for her, that he was messing with her mind.

“Shhh… Grá mo chroí, it is alright, what is making you so sad?” Craven asked, breaking part of the spell.

Why did he care that she was sad? What did it really matter to him? Majesta was confused and wanted nothing to do with this man.