Reincarnation

Sometimes the greatest love stories of our lifetime transcend to legend. When that happens, the lovers become greater than a story; they are fated to exist in perpetuity. This is the story of two such souls…

~.~

Scheherazade took a deep breath. She was to wed the King Shahryar; the monster who had his virgin brides executed the very day after he married them. For an educated woman like Scheherazade, this was not the way she had expected her life to go. She had wanted to live a life in the shadows with her books. She was outraged, but she would do her duty. If she didn't, her father and brother could be put in grave danger.

So on her wedding day, Scheherazade garbed herself in rich blue and gold. It was hardly a rebellion to refuse to wear her soon-to-be husband's preferred color of red, but she hoped it would be a statement to all that she would die as Scheherazade and not as a frightened girl.

Glancing at her new husband now, Scheherazade was shocked to see the left side of his ace marred by a scar. But what shocked her more was how handsome she found him. If she had been seeking a husband, she might actually have been happy. Though she found her mind changing again as King Shahryar barely spoke to her throughout the ceremony and the banquet. Even if she wasn't supposed to die tomorrow morning, Scheherazade couldn't see how this could ever be a happy marriage.

When it came time for him to consummate their marriage, he gruffly told her to say her goodbyes. Scheherazade nodded, holding back tears and embraced her father and brother one more time. She then followed her husband to their tent.

Shahryar did not say a word to her as he flung himself onto the cushions. Scheherazade awkwardly began to remove her headdress, uncertain of what a new bride should do in this kind of situation. How could consummating a marriage even matter if she was condemned to die at dawn?

"Don't bother," the King suddenly said. His eyes were trained on the ceiling. He oozed nonchalance, but Scheherazade knew that he could sense every movement. He was watching her even if his eyes weren't focused on her specifically.

"What does your majesty want of me?"

"To stay quiet and leave me to sleep peacefully before I kill you tomorrow at dawn." It was as though he was telling her what he wanted for breakfast tomorrow. The young bride was not going to have any of this.

"Look here. You may want a new bride at dawn, but I refuse to sit here like a statue you just bought at a bazaar. I am a human being and your wife and I demand that you treat me with the respect that is accorded to my status; even if you will have me executed at dawn." She was standing over him, practically growling at him. Scheherazade could barely contain her fury.

"Then, tell me a story." There was only a quiet request in his words. The King did not expect a challenge and Scheherazade, stunned by the request, seated herself on the cushions beside her husband and began to weave an old legend her mother had told her back when she was still alive.

"Once, the world was divided into four nations, each related to an element: fire, water, earth, and air. What bound them all together was a spiritual leader called the Avatar…"

~.~

King Shahryar was shocked to find himself enthralled by his new bride's tale. It had everything a story should: bravery, friendship, love. And all the while, he couldn't take his eyes off the woman telling the story.

All too soon, Scheherazade halted. "Your Majesty, it's dawn."

"You have yet to finish the tale. What happens when Prince Zuko arrives at the South Pole?"

"I thought you were going to have me killed at dawn."

"I want to know how the story ends."

Scheherazade gave her husband a wry smile. "Then let me sleep so I may do the story justice when you come back to our tent tonight."

Shahryar did not hesitate. "Sleep well. I shall see you after sunset."

When he opened the tent flap and exited, he found the whole court waiting with somber eyes. The executioner stepped forward. "Your Majesty…"

"I have no use for your services today. Nobody is to disturb my bride. She requires her sleep." Ignoring the shocked looks around him, he strode forward to speak to his vizier for trade.

Throughout the day, the King could hardly focus. He couldn't wait until Scheherazade continued her story. There was something refreshing about the young woman. She would die when the story was over, but she was the first woman since his first wife to capture his attention.

Little did Shahryar know, the young woman would continue to captivate him with her tale for another fifty nights.

On the fiftieth night, Scheherazade finished her tale of the Avatar and his Gaang. Shahryar could see that she was sad and nervous. For some reason, he didn't want that for her.

"Tell me about yourself."

His wife's head shot up and she stared at him in disbelief before smiling softly. "My mother died at a young age so I became the mother of my family when I was six years old. My father always allowed me to have more independence than most women today would be accorded. I was educated in all fields, though my love is in analyzing wars."

"Analyzing wars?" Shahryar was shocked. Warfare was for men. Women should tremble at the very word "war", and yet this spectacularly surprising woman was smiling at him as though she had declared the normal love of weaving.

"I despise warfare. I want to understand what causes wars and how they could be prevented," She explained.

Shahryar narrowed his eyes and decided to test her. Every question he threw her way, she answered intelligently and often made him think and falter in his responses.

Soon, every night was a mix of childhood stories and arguments. The intellectual challenges intermingled with stories of food fights and first loves caused the King to realize that he and his brides were friends. He couldn't remember the last time he had a true friend. He was becoming less and less certain that he could kill her one day. In fact, the thought of her dying sent a pang through his heart, giving him physical pain.

~.~

Scheherazade was still shocked that she hadn't died. Technically, their marriage had not been consummated, but Shahryar was treating her like a wife… like more than a wife. He gave her respect and asked her opinion. Scheherazade had never thought a marriage could be this rewarding. But she was still waiting for her death.

On the one thousand and first night, Shahryar asked her about her first love.

"He was a rascal. I was the unattainable woman. The one who rejected all romantic offers at first sight. But he got to me." Scheherazade shrugged. "I was young. I fell for him. But he didn't last long. I realized that he was trying to win me over on a bet. Even though he insisted that things were different and that he had fallen for me, everything had been ruined. What about you?"

Her husband took a deep breath. "My first love was my first wife. She was stoic and I loved it. I lose my head so easily and she was calm. Not a princess, but a noblewoman regardless. I loved her so deeply until I heard a strange sound from my most trusted adviser's tent. I entered to find her legs spread for my best friend. I had them both killed. It was never my intention to remarry, but I was told that as king I had to. So I married every night and killed the woman the next morning. It was brutal and I never slept with any of them, but it was too painful for me to stay with them."

"Don't you think it was cruel to kill them?"

"I didn't know how to marry and trust another woman."

"And me?"

Shahryar put his hand on her face and Scheherazade found herself leaning into his embrace. After a moment, he told her in a quiet tone, "I don't know how I ever lived without you."

They stared into each other's eyes and Scheherazade couldn't understand why, but their faces kept approaching one another. And then he kissed her and her whole world exploded. She didn't understand how she had ever lived without him. She didn't know when it had started, but she had fallen in love with him.

"I love you, Shahryar…" She tried to find words to better explain herself, but Shahryar stopped her.

"I love you, Scheherazade. Please, don't leave me. Don't ever leave."

That night they consummated their marriage and at dawn Scheherazade was formally crowned as his Queen. The whole nation was shocked to find that Scheherazade would last. She was their Queen. Pretty soon, they had all fallen in love with her as they entered a realm of unprecedented prosperity. Every young man and woman dreamed of having a love like the kind openly shown by their King and Queen.

~.~

"Why do you always try to kill me in every story line? It's Shahryar and Scheherazade or then it's Paris and Helen or then it's someone else. Why, Zuko?"

"Because I'm an idiot who always thinks I can live with just my honor until you change my whole world."

Katara smiled at Zuko. "We're pretty badass in every reincarnation, aren't we?"

"At least, you are," the former Fire Lord smiled as he pulled her into a deep kiss.