Soulmate AU- Not everyone finds their perfect match

Tiberius. The name etched onto her youthful back said it all about who her soulmate was. The name is small, it seemed to her that it had gotten smaller and smaller with each passing year. She heard about the myths, the legends that stated that every time your soulmate dies, the smaller the letters became afterwards. She doesn't know how to feel as looks at her naked back in the mirror.

She feels it then, the aching burn that blooms on the back of her heart as she kisses him. A man that is not hers, and she is not his, the name on his back is nothing close to Mare's. And yet, his kisses and touch seem to satisfy her in ways her body can't live without.

He is young and beautiful, just like her. They don't look a day past twenty five, their people stop aging when they get to that age. That is until they meet their soulmate. A beautiful dream, to grow old with you one true love. Her parents are dead, a perfect example of how their people age, together and in love.

But Mare is different. She has outlived all her family, brothers and sister that found their life partner, their children having done the same, on and on until Mare has so many relatives spread through the country until only she remains.

Mare legs wrap around his torso as he sinks into her. The pleasure she feels is divine, both in feeling him inside and watching their bodies connect again and again through the body length mirror. When they finish, they wrap around the rich silk covers of her bed, slowly exchanging kisses. Her thighs are sticky and wet, but she will not become pregnant. They are not meant for each other, any children born to them would be a mistake.

"I did it again," Mare whispers against his chest. So firm and smooth, not a wrinkle in sight.

Maven hums and strokes her hair gently, "How many times is that now?" He likes to ask because it pains her to answer,

She scowls and pinches his nipple, "Fifth."

Maven slaps her hand away with an angry look, "Is that a wrinkle on your forehead?" His voice is mocking and full of contempt.

Mare's hand comes up to her head instinctively, and tries to keep her voice from trembling, "He looked me straight in the eyes,"

"Mare-"

"His voice was the same, his eyes the same golden bronze-" she can't hold the sobs back now.

"Mare-I-" Maven tries to snap her out of it, clutching her close to his body as she weeps over her sins.

Mare shakes her head, her body is shaking, chills sweep over her from head to toe and she feels as if the name on her back is getting smaller and smaller with each tear that rolls down her cheeks.

"It burns" She whispers, over and over again until she is suddenly scratching at her back, screaming at him to make it go away, to make the name go away. He feels powerless as she tries to claw at him also, her angry nails searching for the name on his back.

"Mare!" He shouts, her arms pinned above her when he finally gains an advantage. Maven rolls her beneath him, his hips grinding against hers until she is panting beneath him with tears streaming down her cheeks.

"How long can hate hold a thing together?" She asks from beneath him, her voice soft and broken.

He sighs, "Well, 500 years is quite a long time." The immortal monarchs, is what they call them now.

She smiles bitterly in response, "I love you."

Maven snorts at the ridiculous idea, "You can't, it's impossible. " The name behind his back burns at her declaration.

Her fingers play with the golden letters, trace over them with familiarity as his body tenses. "How many for you?"

He shuts his eyes, her eyes staring at him through his memories. Sometimes brown, others green, a flash of blue, almost always black. They all look at him with love at first, and then hatred. Always hatred and disgust at the end. "Seven," he answers gruffly.

"When was the last time?" Her voice us almost fearful.

He thinks back, years, months, days, its a blur. Maven shrugs instead, "I don't remember, but I used a knife." He doesn't miss the way her eyes dart to the pocket knife on the table he always keeps with him. "You?"

"First was with poison, then a knife. I think the third and fourth time was also with poison. This time I pulled the trigger." Mare recounts with a strange tone of detachment. Real psychopaths they become, and yet they are hailed as the most successful rulers in history.

Story has it that they're true soulmates, their love so pure and true that it has withstood the test of time. How little do their fanatics know about the evils they stoop to maintain their youthful looks and powerful hold over the country. How many times they have murdered their own soulmate time and time again for their own selfish gain.

Iris. He remembers the first time he met her. Dark hair, dark eyes, an accent that hailed from the Unified Americas and skin as gold as the sun. His heart stopped when he first saw her, and it never began again after he watched the light fade from her eyes because of him.

Tiberius. His eyes were what always remained the same. Brown with gold flecks. Hair tousled and soft. She remembers sliding her fingers through it once, marveling at how silky it felt. Mare remembers the willingness to give up anything for him, until he tried to tie her down and shut her away. The poison in his glass the next morning caused those brilliant eyes to fade away.

How they met was lost to them. But how they met their soulmates each time is engraved into their memories, something neither will admit.