A/N: Work-in-progress, probably 5 chapters in total. Reincarnation story because I love the concept of multiple lives and have (crazily) decided to pair it with a Steve/Bucky. Title and lyrics in story come from "From Eden" by Hozier. This chapter's life has been loosely inspired by one of my all time favourite myths, that of Savitri and Satyavan. Well worth a google and a read. :)

(I slithered here) From Eden

A rope in hand for your other man to hang from a tree.

She knows approximately three days after they meet that he is doomed. She falls in love with him anyway, with the easy smile and kind heart. He is poor but she finds that she could not care. She is convinced that she can cure them of all their faults and is unwilling to let anyone persuade her of otherwise.

On the day it was foreseen, she does not say a word but follows him through the wood, heart weighing heavy as he laughs and sends her charming smiles. She smiled back, willing the flutter in her chest to disappear and reminding him to watch his step. She was constantly waiting for the end to come that she feared that even the slightest misstep might summon fate. She need not have worried about such. When they came to the small clearing in the forest, he suddenly sat, knees folded beneath him. Her breath caught in her throat and she ran to hold him, sinking down hard on the earth beside him. His whole body began to shake and he whined of pains piercing his head. She stroked his face, pulling him down to rest his head on her shoulder. He cried out and she cried with him, tears marking both of their faces.

He dies, as it was predicted and finally she knows how. Her tears dried as his body grew cold and it was hours later that she noted that they were no longer alone in the wood. A character watches them, a face lined by time in a way that is attractive rather than an inhibitor. He leant on a wooden staff in what she supposed was used as a method to reinforce the myths and stories surrounding him. She knows before any words are spoken that he is Death and that her time is running out.

A wind rippled through the air and she felt something lighten in her lover's body. She held him tighter, allowing his head to droop down to rest in her lap. The coldness of his skin unnerved her. Glancing up, she noticed the outline of his soul stand half a length behind Death, back turned to her. She resisted the urge to stand, running her hands through his hair instead. Death smiled at her, wide and engaging and he bowed his head respectively in her direction.

He turned with a final smile and began to walk away. Her eyes lingered on the shadow that followed him only a step behind. The further away from her they got, the more that shade faded.

"Stop, please. I have sworn my soul to his, in this life and every other. You cannot allow us to separate. Please, friend. My love for him is so strong that I cannot live alone. You must take me with you also."

"Your time is yet to come, little friend. Be at peace and ensure his body finds rest. His soul will be safe with me."

She looked down at her husband's head, still and cold in her lap, a pained expression frozen on his face. She brushed her hand through his sticky hair to clear his handsome face and pressed a last kiss to his lips. Refusing to allow a single tear to fall, she lifted his head from her thigh and gently placed it down on the earth. She pulled herself to standing and set off to follow Death who was far ahead and only just on the edge of her vision. She did not run nor hurry but walked with slow and measured steps.

She traveled in his wake for some time before he turned again, an amused look lighting up his features. He paused, in no rush himself, and waited until she stood close to him again. She looked to her lover's soul who bore a blank expression and appeared to see straight through her, as if she were not present.

"You surprise me," said Death, leaning on the wooden staff in his left hand. "Most of your kind runs from me in fear and yet here you are, unafraid."

"You could not scare me," she answered. "I prepared to meet you long ago. You are our friend who catches us when our lives end and bring us on to our new ones. I am grateful for that hardship you do. I could never resent you."

"If that is the truth you must understand that I cannot return your man's soul to you."

"I understand it, yet I cannot accept it."

Death gazed upwards at the fading sky, his eyes unbothered by the sun, its strength still strong even as it died for the day. Her legs ached almost as much as her heart now and she craved the opportunity to rest but still she held her ground and stood, begging her muscles not to shiver.

"You claim to be my friend," said Death at last, eyes fixed on the sun.

"I do," she agreed, her voice calm and steady.

"Then I offer you a gift, not only in return for your friendship but also to ease your grief."

"A gift?"

"A blessing of good fortune. I cannot promise your husband's soul back to you but should you ask for anything else, I will grant it."

His glance returned to her and she stared back, unsure of how to proceed. She could feel her heart as it raced in her chest and willed it to calm before she jumped to a bad decision because of it.

"I fear there is nothing in this life that I desire. No wealth or finery can fill the wound in the centre of my heart left by my husband."

"It is, I agree, a poor substitute for a broken heart but yet a wealth may grant you a life of ease with little hardship. You should not be so quick to dismiss such a gift, friend."

She nodded, her right hand curling into the cloth by her side. "There is one thing that I do desire."

His eyebrows raised and he spread his hands before him, palms facing upwards, waiting for her request. She swallowed painfully hard, forcing her fluttering stomach to settle. "I wish to continue my line. I want to have many sons."

The smile spread slowly across Death's face. "Children have been known to cure even the harshest wounds. You ask for the gift of life from Death, and so Death shall grant it to you."

It is her turn to smile and so she does, wide and bright. Her heart hammered in her chest and her head felt light as her eyes burned into Death's. "You are a most kind friend. It has been so long now I believe it is time for us to return home."

His eyes narrowed to fine slits and the smile slid off his face. "Us?"

"My husband and I. You promised me that I would have many sons and I cannot do so without him. I swore to the gods when we wed that I would never love another in the way I love him. There is no way that I can have children without him."

"Were you false with me all of this time? Do you really consider me friend?"

"Everything I have said is true. I just will not live without him."

"You are far cleverer than I had expected and perhaps that wrong estimation is my fault. Very well, may you have your sons."

As he spoke, a rushing sensation clouded her head. She closed her eyes in pain and when she opened them she saw her husband's head, laid out in her lap. His face was peaceful and her hovering hand could feel the warm air as it left his nose and mouth. She cried out in happiness, water filling her eyes as she stroked his soft skin over and over. She drew her gaze away from her husband and looked up at Death who stood mere steps away, leaning on his wooden staff.

"Thank you," she breathed, her voice tired and hoarse.

"You have won this battle for now, but you will not win for ever. You will have to let him go, in this life and all of those to come."

They both watched him breathe for a little while in silence. She purposefully avoided gazing at Death's face as she could see from the corner of her eye the pitiful look he send her.

"I will save him then too," she assured him eventually. "I will never let him die, not without me. I am his and he is mine across this and every lifetime."

"If you cannot leave him behind you will be doomed to die. Will you take the pain and suffering of generations upon yourself?"

"I will. Always."

"Then so be it. I wish you luck, friend. I will meet you at the end of this life, and all those to come."

He barely made it to the bathroom. He vaulted through the door and lifted the toilet seat, his body bent double and heaving as sick left his system. He coughed harshly, knees giving out to send him into an awkward kneeling position. One hand looped around the ceramic base while the other gripped the filthy rim tightly. His breath caught in his chest and he spat again, gagging at the taste left behind in his mouth. Releasing his hold on the toilet, he lifted his hand and wiped the back of it across his sweaty forehead, pushing his hair out of the way. With trembling muscles he stood up and turned to face the mirror, grabbing hold of the sink and carefully supporting himself on it. He gazed at his reflection, at the gaunt pale skin and the purple that framed his eyes and heaved a sigh.

"You ought to take better care of yourself."

He does not spin around in surprise, giving a barely perceptible flinch instead. His eyes fall to the right hand corner of the mirror where he spots her standing. Her fair hair is immaculately secured in a twisted braid and a bright sundress that is not of her time falls to her knees. Her arms are wrapped around her swollen stomach in a way that he knows is habitual comfort behaviour rather than protective. His eyes stare at this part of her, unable to look away. She stepped closer silently, placing a hand on his right shoulder and smiling, encouraging him to turn to face her. He did, slowly and uncertain, not at all comforted by the kind expression she offered him. She took both his hands in hers then, threading their fingers together and laying them on the smooth muscle of his own stomach, just above his navel.

"You and I, James, we are the same," she said, pressing their hands firmly against his skin. Nausea rose in his gut again, not eased at all by her action.

"Help me," he whispered before he could stop himself. The smile slid off her face. He felt his stomach burn hot and looked down at their entangled hands. Blood seeped through their fingers, staining them red. She did not let go.

"We are the same, James."

He hacked out a cough, blood dribbling down his chin. He tried to speak again, to ask her why but his mouth was too full and he spluttered everywhere. Feeling another sharp pain his torso, he collapsed onto his knees, her hands suddenly leaving him. He reached forward, stretching for and grabbing hold of her legs. He held on tightly, his whole form shaking in pain and –

jolted awake, hands clinging tightly to the toilet bowl. He lifted his head and glanced around the tiny room in confusion, failing to spot any one else or the blood underneath the grainy yellow light fixture. With a heavy sigh, he slammed his head down against his flesh arm and cried.

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