infinite

Two hands holding tight through the ages. / Zutara, reincarnation and just a few of the lives they lived. / oneshot, drabble-y

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and in that moment, i swear we were infinite.

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i.

Fire and water and lips on lips.
Secrets kept and promises broken and torrid love affairs. Golden eyes reflecting candlelight and blue eyes reflecting the moon. Turtle-duck days and laughter and dancing like stars.
Whispers and tip-toeing and then a heartbreaking goodbye. Tears and swearing and no happily ever after, not this time.
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ii.

A prince and a princess from enemy lands. An arranged marriage, a political alliance. A sacrifice for peacetime.
Awkward conversations and false declarations of love that eventually turn into reality. Burning hatred that fades away.
Four little children running through the courtyards in a newly united kingdom. A king and a queen full of hope and love as an unstoppable force.
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iii.

Slums and starvation and desperation. Younger siblings to think of and personal needs put aside. Twin souls bound over scrounging and despairing and hoping against hopes.

Then a single chance - "You have to go." and "I'll never, ever leave you."
But the army calls and choices that once were choices are enforced as law. There are tears and reaching and soul-rending screams. "I'll try to come back, you know that." "You have to."
An official letter and more sobbing and then an empty loveless life for one stretching across the horizon.
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iv.
A silk dress on Charles Dickens' streets and "A pent for the poor, ma'am" while his sister picks her pocket.
A top hatted brother and "Stay away from my sister!" A dainty nose raised and a ragamuffin girl dragged to the police station.
"She'll hang." and "You can't, she's my little sister!" until "Dirty street rat." and a slammed door.
But there is mercy and a pardoned pickpocket and "Well, we can always use another gardener." "I'll be worth your while, sir."
There's a bed with scratchy sheets and two meals a day and a weekly half pent and a promise.
Curious blue eyes on a face filled with distaste, hating gold eyes on a neutral scarred face. A lady and a gardener and they're not eleven anymore.
There are secrets and kisses on hands that last seconds too long, a squeeze on the arm as he helps her into the carriage.
Then engagement to others and despair, followed by elopement and scandal and a girl written out of the will.
Two street rats, one dressed in silk dresses, hoping for a kindly stranger with a pent for the poor.
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v.
Whispers of a failing economy, a lying king, and the bourgeois that must fall.
A Seigneur's son and a girl from his seigneury - a bourgeois and a Jacobin.
A tennis court oath, the Bastille stormed, a march on Versailles. The King comes to Paris and the seigneur's son joins the army.
A tri-color flag and rally cries from hoarse throats become curfews and neighbours spying on neighbours and a constant thud of the guillotine.
The girl hides the now hunted boy - the revolutionary holds the traditionalist - it's a war-torn country ruled by an iron fist but love still blossoms.
But none are safe and two guillotine falls later, the two are as dead as Romeo and Juliet, corpses buried side by side - "traitors" their only epitaph.
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vi.
An emerald isle, a famine strike, two orphans aboard a coffin ship bound for a better life. Survival and quarantines and just barely getting by.
Stuffy factories and dangerous conditions but a promise of marriage and land in the north.
Newlyweds begin clearing a small stretch of land while the traders venture west. Sweat and back-breaking labour and then snow piled to the rooftops.
Two hearts beating in sink, then a child on the way, then another and another and-
And four healthy sons, three pretty girls, a cow and a pig and a draft horse.
Hard work paid off, a new life complete. Smiles in old age, twin rocking chairs. The click of knitting needles and shouts from grandchildren.
Peaceful passings just hours apart, one grave beside the other, buried with smiles on wrinkled faces.

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vii.

A pretty little starlet and a simple valet. Star-struck dreams and accidental adoration.
Tabloids with questions and a star without answers. A boy who watches on, wincing.
But there are black and white silent films and hands held in the back of theaters. Grandmothers muttering about propriety. Then discovery and shock and "But I love him!"
A fall from grace and loss of jobs. And yet there is still the thatched roof cottage and dancing in the moonlight and bonnets on twin children.

Lives ended early, cut short by two black cars and a thin sheet of ice. Orphaned children left to her brother and a mourning world left behind.
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viii.

Sunshine kisses and the summer of '38. Teenagers sneaking out for the sake of love.
Then war and terror and bombs raining from the sky. A blitz that takes their families but not them, never them.
Before long there are whispers of an invasion on France and "I've got to join, you know that." and "As long as you come home." "Of course." The young lieutenant is shipped to Normandy.
Fortune's favour and Love's blessing and survival by a thread. A POW camp and censored letters that still sing of the love she has for him.
September of '45 and the soldier boy comes home. Then there's a ring and a wedding and a white picket fence.
A happily ever after.
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ix.

High school and drama and hints of depression. Talk of destiny on rooftops and just a little too much to drink.
"Do you believe in reincarnation?" and "Maybe." "Don't you feel like you've done this before?" and then "Several times over."
Then speculation and wonder and jokes about other lives. Libraries searched for hints of themselves. Laughter and loving and knowing glances - they've lived this before.
Then university and texting and everyday emails. Three hour long phone calls and countless mugs of hot chocolate.
Woollen socks and fire places and cold winter nights turn to bikinis and sand and long summer days. More laughter and loving and happiness.
Jobs and mortgages come along but still there is joy - joy and three little children, a cat and a dog.
The promise of more lives to come.

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Disclaimer: I don't own Avatar: The Last Airbender and the quote at the beginning is from Stephen Chbosky's Perks of Being A Wallflower. I don't personally believe in reincarnation, but the Avatar world certainly does and it makes for an interesting story.

Also, I've got a couple of companion pieces coming – some already finished and some being worked on, but I'll be posting them in this drabble series as well.

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Review?