Wow everyone. Long time no write, huh? I've been busy and i did fall out of step with the fanfiction world for a while. (And my computer broke). Well...I'm back :) I wrote a one-shot just for you all. And I'm beginning another long story :) that could take awhile to finish though. But know that I haven't abandoned you all yet. Okay this story is a very different concept. It is all Edward and Bella. But they have different names throughout the story for different time periods. Bella's name either starts with a B or and I and Edward's names all start with an E. You'll figure it out :)

**IMPORTANT** This story is ExB completely. But because it is their relationship throughout the ages, the names are different in different time periods. Bella's names start with either a B or an I. Edward's are all E. (Any other characters I have thrown in there the name starts with the same letter as from the book. So have fun figuring it all out :) Edward and Bella are easy though) Anyway! Enjoy and tell me what you think :)

Your Soul and Mine

Prehistory

Belize sat perched precariously on the edge of the rough rock that jutted out of the mountain side. She watched over her homeland with a swell of pride and basked in the light of the warm globe suspended in the blue ocean above her. She let out a small sigh when the fiery globe began its daily descent below the horizon. The falling of the orange globe was a ritual performed by nature, to let the people of the land know it was time for the day to end.

Belize stood up and stretched her taut muscles. Her eyes scanned the horizon, watching for intruders, and decided it was safe to return home to her tribe. Belize had grown used to her daily escapes from the buzz of the tribe. Her village was never quiet anymore. The talk around the nightly campfire for the women had been centered around Edmar for the past seven fallings of the orange globe. It was almost time for Edmar to choose his mate.

Edmar was the son of the leader of the tribe, Canyan. He was strong and powerful and the next leader of the tribe. The woman he chooses for his mate will be the most powerful woman in the tribe, the highest in status, and the luckiest. The greatest honor of being the mate of Edmar would be birthing his children.

Every girl in the tribe that had experienced twelve bleedings of the cycle of the brightest star would be eligible to be Edmar's mate. Mature enough to birth the strongest of children, perfect for the Chief, but young enough to produce many.

Belize's twelfth bleeding had come and gone three cycles ago. She was eligible for Edmar's consideration, but she knew she was not worthy enough to be the mate of the Chief. She had grown into a mature woman, and she was aware of that, but she was not the most beautiful woman in the tribe. The most beautiful woman in the tribe was Roline. Roline would be Edmar's mate; there was not a doubt in anyone's mind that this would be the case.

Belize just hoped that she would be able to find a decent mate. She did not need Edmar as a mate to be happy. Her aspirations were not so high. She just needed a mate that she could get along with, someone she could be content with. Perhaps Jarman, Belize knew she could be happy with him. He was a strong man with jet black hair, tan skin, and a pleasant disposition. Yes, he could make her very happy. But he could not choose a mate until Edmar had chosen his. That would be a very unpleasant ritual.

This was it, the moment that every woman in the tribe had been talking about for weeks. The days of anticipation were finally over, and the talk of Edmar's next mate would fade. Tonight, Belize could begin worrying about her own mating. Who would select her, and how she would spend the rest of her life with him. After Edmar chose his mate, Belize would be free for any man in the tribe to select. For Belize, Edmar's selection could not come fast enough.

The roll of the drum echoed in the dark night and wrapped around the campfire, this signaled the beginning of the selection ceremony. Edmar stepped confidently out of his buffalo-hide tent and loped gracefully over to the line of eligible mates. He stood in front of the campfire and was joined by his father, the current chief. Canyan cleared his throat and prepared to speak.

"Tonight,' he began in his booming voice, "My son will choose one of these eligible tribal women to be his mate." There was a thunderous sound of applause. Canyan silenced the crowd with a wave of his hand. Silence fell around the campfire and Canyan spoke again. "My son's mate will be the highest ranked woman of the tribe when my son takes over my position. However, this will not happen until the chosen mate of my son produces their first child."

Belize narrowed her eyes slightly at Canyan. She felt sorry for the woman Edmar chose for his mate. That woman had a lot of responsibility to carry on her shoulders. There was no doubt in Belize's mind that Edmar would expect his mate to produce a child in only one revolution around the fiery globe. Edmar would want to be chief as soon as possible. That would put a great burden on his chosen mate.

Canyan finished talking and walked with his son down the line of possible mates. Canyan would comment on each woman, and Edmar would listen. When they came to Belize, she stiffened. She was hyper-aware of their eyes roaming over her body carelessly.

Edmar's eyes locked with Belize's and she became paralyzed with fear. His green eyes bore into hers with a kindness that scared her. He smiled crookedly at her and bowed his head slightly. Belize felt hot, red liquid pool in her cheeks, her warming her more than the campfire burning only feet away from her.

Belize looked down at the dirt floor self-consciously. She hoped that Edmar looked at every woman that way, because she did not want to be his mate.

She knew that he wouldn't be mean to her; she had never seen him act violently. She was not afraid of his treatment of her at all. She was afraid of the rest of the women in the tribe; the women that yearned for Edmar and took pains to get him to notice them. She was afraid that they would hate her and would shun her. She couldn't handle that. Women were low enough on the social ladder; to be ostracized by every other woman in the tribe would be the worse feeling in the world.

Canyan finished taking Edmar down the line and now stood in front of the campfire, facing the line. Edmar was beside him, his eyes trained on Belize, but she did not notice. Canyan spoke softly to his son and then cleared his throat to address the tribe.

"My son has made his decision. It took only one look at her for him to decide!" Canyan laughed and a chorus of chuckles joined him. Canyan's laugh cut off and he turned to his son.

"Go to the girl you have chosen so we can proceed in the ritual." Edmar nodded his head and walked confidently over to the line of expectant women. Edmar's shadow fell over Belize and she stiffened at the change of light. She could sense his eyes on her and when she looked up, she was lost in a sea of emerald green.

Edmar took her by the hand and led her away from the rest of the women. Belize's face heated and she looked down at the ground, trying to ignore the envious stares that were stabbing her in the back.

Edmar handed Belize over to his father where he examined her closely. He nodded his head approvingly and smiled at his son. "A good choice," he commended. "She will make a good mate. And thus, let the bonding ritual begin!"

Belize's eyes widened at Canyan's words, but there was no time to think. Edmar's mouth descended upon her's, and he devoured her mouth with his. The heat of the kiss seared her lips. The sudden jolt of electricity jolted Belize's already frazzled nerves. Terrified, she jabbed him in the stomach, knocking the breath out of him. Without a second thought, she ran, leaving the increasing rumble of surprise from the tribe behind.

Edmar wasted no time in chasing after her. He gasped for the breath that had evaded him with the contact of her fist to his stomach, but he wouldn't let that stop him from catching her. His muscles rippled as he propelled himself after her. She couldn't run far, the cliff was not far ahead. She would have to slow down and change directions.

Belize ran frantically away from Edmar. She hated that he had chosen her; she hated him! Why did he have to choose her? Belize thought as she ran. She wasn't that pretty and she knew that she would never be able to make him happy, so why her?

The only solution she had seen was to run. She ran away and brought disgrace to her father. Her father had been a beloved member of the tribe. He had been the protector. But having his daughter refuse her match with Edmar, a blessing brought to her by The Great One as others would say would bring her family dishonor.

Belize could never go back home. She would never see her father again, never see her kind mother again, and she would never feel safe again. She would be on the run for the rest of her life.

She ran as fast as her small legs would carry her. She ran until the ground ended. It dropped off suddenly, taking Belize by surprise. She came to a halt and teetered on the edge of the cliff, almost losing her balance. She planted her feet firmly on the ground, and her eyes swept her surroundings.

Footsteps alerted Belize that someone was approaching her quickly. She whirled around to find Edmar running straight at her. Belize panicked. Her heart pounded in her chest in dread and she scrambled for a way to escape.

There was only one solution. Belize inhaled the crisp night air, trying to calm her nerves. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander to a happier place: on the cliff watching the falling of the fiery globe. Belize was calm and at peace for several seconds before her eyes snapped open and she hurled herself over the edge of the cliff.

Edmar ran to the edge and peered over. He saw Belize's nimble body bending in every direction as she fell to her doom. Without a second thought, Edmar jumped after her.

I may not be here, she may not be here, we may not be here together…but time marches on…

Paris, France 1793

Mother,

There is great fear that envelopes us all, I am afraid. We are all too terrified to speak our minds for fear of the guillotine. Marie Antoinette's execution had not been the end to the violence and the blood shed, no, it had only been the beginning. My dearest mother, I write to you because my heart cries for you. I fear that something will go terribly wrong, very soon. More and more people are being executed everyday for seemingly no reason. Old Mrs. Florence was executed yesterday for commenting on the ever-rising price of bread. All she had said was that if the prices continued to climb, she would need to find a job! It was a perfectly harmless comment and was not worthy of death. But everyone has gone ravingly mad lately and every person is looking for the slightest chance to brand their fellow countrymen counter-revolutionaries. Things are getting out of hand. I cannot guarantee the safety of my friends, let alone myself. Things are getting extremely out of hand, and I pray that the end will come quickly.

With all my heart,

Iris

Iris Townshend sealed the letter and walked briskly to the post office to send it to her mother. Outside, the streets were becoming populated with people. Her fellow townsmen, once friendly, now all kept to themselves as they went about their business. Across the street she could see Mrs. Benoist dragging her youngest child hurriedly into the shoe store, glancing nervously over her shoulder as if she feared someone was watching her. Mr. Basten carried a large bag of coins into the bake shop; all of the coins were needed to purchase only a single loaf of bread. The state of France was certainly a pitiful one. As Iris scanned the many sorrowful scenes in front of her, she could not help thinking that revolution was not worth the blood bath and pandemonium. She was forced to keep such thoughts to herself. Such words would give her a first and final date with the guillotine.

Iris made quick work of delivering her letter. It was a weekly routine. She tried to keep in touch with her mother, living with her new husband in England. Her mother had been widowed five years earlier. Being of a relatively young age, her mother was able to find love with an English merchant. He had swept her mother off her feet and whisked her away to England. Iris hadn't seen her mother in over a year. Curious by nature, Iris's mother needed to stay in tune with all the news in France. Iris sent her mother letters once a week and her mother wrote back just as much.

As the country plummeted into greater turmoil, the mail had become more delayed. Iris wasn't even sure if her mother was receiving any of her letters anymore. But, trying to keep up hope, she wrote religiously. She had to keep some semblance of normalcy in her life to keep herself from going completely crazy.

Leaving the post office, Iris walked over to the blacksmith's shop. She was not in need of anything desperately, but she wanted to maybe look into getting a new knife. Her own knife was becoming rather dull from various household tasks. She pushed the door to the shop open. It gave a small groan from the force. The blacksmith shop was running very low on business. The price of the blacksmith's goods had gone up outrageously since the outbreak of the revolution. In the back corner of the shop Iris could see the young intern pounding away at sword, trying to mold it to perfection. The shop was silent otherwise.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Masson," Iris greeted him politely, stepping toward the front counter. The young intern's arm froze mid-swing. His head turned slightly in her direction. He peered at her through several strands of the unruly bronze hair that always fell into his eyes. Slowly, his lips lifted into a warm, crooked grin.

"Ms. Townshend, what a pleasant surprise." The intern abandoned his post to approach the counter. "I was beginning to worry that you had forgotten about me." He placed a pale hand on the counter and leaned toward her, his emerald green eyes sparkling with pleasure at the sight of her.

"I could never forget about you," Iris replied softly. She could feel the blood pooling in her cheeks. The young intern never failed to make her blush. "You told me you could make me a new knife," she reminded him.

"I can make a better knife," He replied confidently. "The one you have is ancient. I cannot imagine that you can get anything done with it. Have you come to give me permission to make it for you?"

"Yes, Mr. Masson," Iris replied, smiling. "I've come to do exactly that."

The intern's crooked smile spread into a full grin, exposing most of his pearly white teeth. "I'm pleased to hear that. Although, I must insist that you call me Edwin. Mr. Masson is too formal."

Iris could feel the heat in her cheeks intensify. "Thank you, Edwin."

"If you don't mind, Ms. Townshend-" Edwin began, but Iris cut him off.

"Iris, please. If we're going to be familiar, we must both use each other's first names."

Edwin's smile seemed to grow even wider and his green eyes danced with pleasure. "Iris. If you don't mind, would you mind if I went with you to your place so that I can get the measurements of your knife? We can go now, if it's a convenient time for you. As you know, business is not exactly booming as of late." His eyes darkened slightly at the reminder of the hard times surrounding them.

Iris agreed, and they were soon walking down the street toward Iris's home. They talked of her mother, they talked of the blacksmith Edwin worked for, they talked of her knife, and they talked of anything but the revolution around them. As they were nearing their destination, a loud uproar of voices and shouts pierced the air around them. A large swarm of angry bodies approached them. Fists flew above heads, stones sailed through the air. A cart rolled along the cobblestone street carrying a group of prisoners. As Iris watched the scene, there was no doubt in her mind where the crowd was headed: the center of town.

When the crowd was almost upon them, Iris felt a hand grab her arm and pull her against the nearest building. She looked over and saw that Edwin had pulled her out of the way of the angry mob.

"We don't want to get involved," He whispered. Iris agreed. As the cart passed, she counted 12 prisoners. 12 people heading toward their death. The thought was unnerving.

"This all needs to stop," Edwin said when the crowd had gone. "I don't know much more of this our country can handle. "Everything has gone too far."

Iris nodded her head in agreement. "The revolution is not worth the cost of all the innocent lives that are being lost. They're executing children. I've seen over a dozen young children put to death in the last month alone. I thought the Queen's execution would be the end of it all, but I was wrong."

"Something has to be done," Edwin nearly growled, surprising Iris. "How many more lives need to be taken for the revolutionaries to be satisfied?"

"At least two more," A deep, rough voice answered. Iris crashed into a hard body in front of her. Getting caught up in their horror at the sight of the passing mob, Edwin and Iris had let their guards down. They had talked about the forbidden topic in the open air. They were caught. Two dirty arms wrapped around Iris's entire body, constricting her. A larger man grabbed Edwin.

"Counter revolutionaries will not be tolerated," the man holding Iris growled and then they were hauled away.

The next morning, Iris was numb. She didn't feel the chains that had chaffed her soft skin throughout the course of the night. She did not cry when they shaved off her long, brown locks of hair. She barely felt the stones that collided with her skull as she was carted off with all the other 'traitors' to the center of the town. She didn't even dare to look at Edwin on the way to their gloomy fate. The hate-filled screams were a dull buzz as she stepped up onto the platform. She didn't cry as they shoved her into position, and she didn't even wince when she heard the sharp blade fast approaching the back of her exposed neck.

The rose remained wilted in the times we did not find each other. It sprung happily to life in the times that we did. As our souls continue their endless search for each other, time marches on…

Chicago, Illinois 1941

"Irene, our country has joined the war." The words just out of Elwood's mouth cut Irene deeply. She knew every implication behind those few words. Her one true love was standing in front of her, his back ramrod straight, his green eyes dark with determination to protect his country. His brother, Jack, was standing several feet behind him with the same look of determination in his blue eyes. Both men had vowed when the war had started that if their country became involved, so would they. Irene just couldn't believe the day had come so quickly.

"That's it then?" She sputtered, sick with grief. "You're both leaving?" Elwood reached out and captured Irene's left hand in between both of his. His eyes smoldered as he gazed into her chocolate brown eyes.

"Irene," he spoke her name softly, as if he were savoring it. "Our country needs us. She's not safe right now. I love you, Irene. I have to make the country safe for you again."

Tears welled up in her eyes. She knew she couldn't keep him from going. She knew all along that his big heart and love of his country would take him away from her, if the time came. He wanted to help other people. While she wanted to be selfish and keep him with her forever, safe at home, she knew he would be unhappy with himself. She couldn't reign in his selflessness.

"Promise me you'll come home," she whispered. The tears clogged her throat. She placed her free hand on Elwood's cheek. "I need you."

"I'm coming home," Elwood promised. His eyes burned into hers. "When the war is over, I'll come home and make you my wife." Irene couldn't help but to smile a little at that. The thought of marrying Elwood, the only man she had ever loved, excited her and made her heart thunder in her chest. Taking a step forward, she threw her arms around his neck. Squeezing her tightly, Elwood picked her up and spun her around. "You have nothing to worry about, my love. The time will pass by quickly. I will write to you every moment I get. It'll be as if I never left. I promise."

Irene believed him. With her whole heart, she believed him. When he set her back down again, his mouth was on hers. Their parting kiss was one of love, passion, desperation, and hope. It sent jolts down each of their spines. When they pulled away, Elwood placed one soft kiss on her forehead and walked away.

A couple minutes later, Irene felt too small arms pull her into a hug. Anna, Jack's wife, was standing next to her, pulling her into a comforting hug. They both stood there and cried for hours. They cried for the men they loved and prayed for their safe return.

My Dearest Irene,

How dearly I miss you. Every night I dream of you. Your blush-stained cheeks, your silky brown hair, your deep chocolate eyes, your soft, supple skin. If I close my eyes, I can almost feel you next to me. The disappointment I feel when I open my eyes to find you're not there is crushing. Every day that the war goes on, the more I long to be with you. I cannot imagine how hard it is for you back home as well. I hate to think of you at home, forced to fend for yourself. I know you can do it, but still, I wish I was there to help and protect you. I hope that Anna is keeping you company, and that you find solace in each other's company. You said she found out she was pregnant just after Jack and I departed. I hope everything is well with that. Jack is ecstatic. Unfortunately, the war does not seem to be letting up any time soon. We are needed here, Irene. It gets harder everyday to see your fellow soldiers dying next to you. My country has never needed me more. Please take care of yourself, love. I promise I will return home to you when the war is over. I love you.

All my love,

Elwood.

Irene set the letter down after reading it a third time. They were becoming shorter and shorter. He was getting busier, she thought. She worried day in and day out. She tossed and turned at night. She hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep since he had left. Anna's stomach was beginning to swell, the baby growing healthy and strong despite its father's absence. Irene and Anna spent every waking second with each other, comforting each other. It was the only way they could survive. The uncertainty of it all was what killed them the most. Neither of them could live without their other half.

Irene was sitting on the front porch, trying her best to knit. It wasn't working. Sighing, she threw the needles and yarn aside. She had lost all focus for the day. The sun was beginning to set. Another day gone without Elwood. His letters had stopped coming. The war had intensified, she was afraid he did not have time to write anymore. The thought saddened her. She hated not hearing from him. Her imagination ran wild with the worst of possibilities. She needed to know that he was okay.

Glancing up toward the sun, a figure caught her eye. She sat up straighter, squinting her eyes to get a better look. The black figure was growing larger. It appeared to be the silhouette of a man. Her heart lurched. Hope flooded through her. Could it be? She thought to herself, standing up.

"Anna! Anna come quickly!" she yelled into the house.

"What is it?" Anna huffed, scurrying up to her side. Her belly was almost swollen the full term of her pregnancy. Her due date was quickly approaching.

"Look!" Irene pointed to the direction of the approaching figure. She stared even harder, searching for a second figure. There was none.

When the figure had come close enough, Irene could make out the features of Jack's face. She was relieved to see that he was okay. Anna's child would have its father. But worry pricked at the back of her neck.

"Jack!" Anna screamed, flinging herself into her husband's arms. He stumbled back a bit, not exactly used to the heavier Anna. He squeezed her tight against him and showered her face with kisses. The sight was beautiful to Irene, but it also made her heart ache. Where was Elwood?

Jack held Anna's swollen belly in between his hands and smiled. Anyday now, he would be a new father. His eyes shifted to Irene and his smile faltered a little.

"Irene," he greeted her cautiously.

"Welcome home, Jack." She walked up and hugged him tightly. He hugged her back firmly. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he pulled her away and held her at arms length.

"Irene," He sighed, "I have something to give you." He released her enough to reach into the canvas bag he had been carrying with him. He pulled out a uniform hat with name badge lying on top of it. The name read "Elwood."

"I am so sorry, Irene," he whispered, tears beginning to well in his eyes. "We were ambushed. He ran to the front of the line to try to help one of our companions who had been injured. They got him while he was helping. I am so sorry."

The pain was instant. The breath was knocked out of Irene and she fell to the ground, sobbing hysterically. Anna and Jack both tried to comfort her, but she was beyond comfort. Her life was nothing without him.

Irene died five years later. She had tried her best to continue living normally, knowing it was what Elwood would have wanted, but she just couldn't do it. The pain and the loneliness drove her crazy. She lost all of her appetite. She died in an insane asylum.

We live on, constantly searching and finding each other. We are nothing without the other. It is the way it is to be forever.

"Bella, what are you doing?" Edward's voice was like velvet in Bella's ear. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as his breath tickled her. Her heart thudded against her chest.

Keeping her eyes closed, she responded, "Meditating. Which you just ruined, because you know I can't not think when you're around." She opened her eyes and threw a teasing look at him.

"Why are you trying to meditate?" Edward asked, curiously, his eyebrows knitting together over his emerald green eyes. "Hoping it will improve your balance? Unfortunately, I don't think anything can do that." His eyes danced with amusement, making her heart skip a beat.

"Very funny," She rolled her eyes at him. "But no. I was actually just reading about Buddhism the other day. Did you know that they meditate so that they can get in touch with their past lives?"

"Yes," Edward chuckled. "They believe in reincarnation. They want to evaluate their past lives and learn from them so that they can become enlightened."

"I think that is so interesting," Bella said, leaning against Edward. Instinctively, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer. "Buddhists believe that they are constantly reincarnated so as to reach, essentially, perfection."

"It is a very interesting concept. Can you imagine being able to see yourself in another time period, living a completely different life and still believing it is you? In history class, you could be learning about something you did in the past. The whole concept is mind-boggling."

"I wouldn't even begin to know what to do," Bella sighed. "It would be so much to evaluate and think about. And it usually takes many reincarnations to achieve enlightenment to reach Nirvana."

"Nirvana," Edward drew at the word as if trying to dissect it. "The state in which your soul is no longer reincarnated. To think that our bodies are merely shells, used by our souls in its centuries-long journey to reach enlightenment and Nirvana."

"I think it's fascinating." Bella paused then turned to look Edward in the eyes. "Do you believe in reincarnation, Edward?"

"Do you, Bella?" He shot back.

"Edward, I asked you first." She narrowed her eyes at him, causing him to chuckle in response.

"I'm not sure. It's a difficult pill for me to swallow to be honest." He smiled crookedly at her, knowing exactly the effect it had on her. "But I do know one thing." Bella raised an eyebrow at him, urging him to continue. "If our souls are reincarnated, like the Buddhists believe, I know my soul is never without yours."

"You think so?" Bella couldn't help the smile that spread across her face. Edward always knew exactly what to say to make her heart flutter.

"Yes, Bella. You are, without a doubt, the love of my life. My soul mate, if you will. If I happen to have many lives, well then you are the love of all of my lives. I couldn't imagine living in any time period, in any body, without having your soul, your spirit, beside me. I could never meditate to find that I was with another girl in a past life. It's completely unacceptable and the idea is absurd. You are the only woman I will ever have in my lives. You are mine forever. You're stuck with me." As his speech came to a close, he wrapped both of his arms around her and turned her so that she was facing him.

"I love you, Isabella. Forever." Before she could respond, he closed the distance between their lips. "And ever."

Smiling, Bella whispered, "Forever" against his lips before he recaptured hers.

Forever, our souls will collide. We will never be without each other for long. We are one. Forever and Ever.

How did you guys like it? Read and Review?

I'm working on my next big story. It's called "Dreams" and I'm putting chapter previews on my profile as I complete them. I have the prologue and chapters 1 and 2 complete with the previews already on my profile. Go check them out :)

Until later :)