Will was jerked out of his thoughts, and turned to look at the dark-haired man now sitting next to him. He was a slender man, one of the Trojans who had accompanied Prince Paris to Sparta.

"My thoughts are my own, and I am under no obligation to tell them to you." Will snarled in response to the man's questioning. Strangely, he only received a gentle laugh in response, and Will's brow furrowed. Why had this man approached him, and why wasn't he leaving?

"Well, I for one am admiring the fine architecture. And the music. Gods, the music…" The man drifted off into silence, eyes shining as he watched the musicians. Will glanced at him sideways. The Trojan's fine, dark hair fell into his eyes as he continued listening to the music, and he seemed not to notice Will any more. Which was fine by him, of course. He didn't want anyone to talk to, especially not a Trojan. "Let me guess, you were thinking about…" The other man suddenly spoke, and Will would be lying if he said he didn't jump. "Your beloved, who tragically left you just now for a Trojan, and that's why you're staring at me like you hate me, even though you don't know anything about me." Will stared, and the other man laughed again. "I was joking. You can take a joke, right? Although you are staring at me like you hate me…" The man shifted uncomfortably, and Will averted his gaze to the cup still in his hands.

"My apologies." He responded gruffly.

"You're probably wondering why I'm talking to you." The man replied suddenly, catching Will's eyes. Will found he couldn't look away. "And to be completely honest, so am I. I just… have a feeling." Will's eyebrows rose.

"A feeling? That's rather vague." He mocked the Trojan, feeling the usual stab of guilt at having to hurt someone.

"I know, and that's why I'm talking to you." The man responded, not put off by Will's ridicule of him. "I wanted to find out if you feel it, too."

"Well, I obviously don't, so I'd be grateful if you could leave." Will snapped, folding his arms. The other man glanced at him, an amused expression on his face.

"Which is exactly the reason I'm going to stay, my friend. I think, despite your cold and harsh appearance-" Will couldn't help his flinch at those words, "that you are a good person. I probably shouldn't think that, especially seeing how you've treated me thus far, but my heart tells me that there is a reason for how you act. I know you won't tell me, but I do hope we can get along." The man finished, looking far too smug at Will's astonished face. "James Carstairs." He added, offering Will his hand. Will stared at it, blinking a few times.

Finally, Will shifted, grasping James' hand in his own.

"William Herondale."

That night had been the happiest of Will's life. Jem, after refusing to leave Will alone, had wheedled Will into giving him a tour of the palace. They had talked, laughed, and Will had forgotten all about the dreadful curse that lay upon him.

However, when daybreak came, and it was discovered that Prince Paris had run off with Helen, the Trojans had to leave. Will offered no resistance when Jem dragged him down to the ships, knowing that they were unlikely to ever meet again. They had clasped forearms, before Jem boarded his ship, not looking back.

Will had stayed at the harbour until the ships were out of sight.

It was a cruel fate, to understand just as you had to leave. To have it shown to you what your purpose on this earth had been, just as you were about to leave it.

The sun shone brightly overhead, highlighting the yellow sand below. Will readjusted his shield and checked the strap of his helm. He had awoken that morning with a sense of dread, and realised that this was to be his last battle.

Blinking away the sweat from his eyes – it was sweat, not tears, he told himself – he thoughts of his sisters. Beautiful Ella, who had fallen for a wounded soldier and nursed him back to life with her skills and love. Determined Cecily, who was only 15 but had already found her soulmate in one of Will's rivals (Will suspected their relationship was originally to annoy him, but it had progressed further than she had planned). He thoughts of his parents, safe back in Greece, waiting for him to return.

He took a deep breath. He was never going to return.

A cry cut through the air, rallying the Greeks to battle. Will raised his voice with the others, hating himself. If only he could've been stronger. Then perhaps his sisters could have been at home instead of slaving away in the camp.

The thud of armoured feet moving in sync caught Will's attention. He moved his own boots in time to the beat, but soon everything broke down and it was every man for himself. The army facing them stood still and waited.

The armies crashed together like two lovers finally reunited.

The day progressed, and Will lost track of how many Trojans he slaughtered. He didn't care. If this was to be his last battle, then he was going to make it a good one. His armour became heavier, his sword coated in blood. But still he swung his weapon; still he ducked the blows and killed another man. His world became limited to the reach of his sword and the heat of the sun.

Will faced another Trojan. Hefting his sword once again, he swung clumsily and his blow was knocked aside. He went to lunge, but found his body wouldn't obey him. Trying for a second time, his legs buckled and he fell to his knees.

He looked down. The Trojan withdrew his sword from Will's stomach, and the Greek felt his blood pouring from the gash. He felt a hysterical laugh rising in his chest, but subdued it. He would not die crazy.

The Trojan bent down and began to unbuckle Will's helm. It was customary for a soldier to take his defeated foe's armour, if he liked the look of it. Despite his situation, Will couldn't help but feel a little proud. It had taken him years for him to save up enough to get his armour, and even though it would now belong to a Trojan, at least it would still be used.

Will's foe finished removing Will's helm, and upon catching a glimpse of his face, dropped it. The Trojan dropped to his knees before Will and pressed a gauntleted hand to Will's injury. Will took a painful breath. He had no idea what was going on – why was the Trojan trying to save him?

As Will's vision grew blurry, his other senses sharpened and he caught words coming from the other man's mouth.

So sorry, Will, I didn't know it was you; there's nothing I can do!

How did the Trojan know his name? Will's head dropped forward and landed on the Trojan's shoulder. It hurt his forehead. He could feel the other man's body heaving and – was he crying?

What have I done?

Will heard the words and finally recognised the voice. He struggled to lift his head, but all his strength had gone. Black spots danced in front of his eyes and his blood steadily continued to pump out of his body.

And then he knew.

He drew in a shuddering breath. Images flashed through his mind, images from different lives. He would've thought they had no connection, except for one recurring figure. A young, slender man with silver hair.

Of course. That was how he'd recognised Jem in the midst of battle all those weeks ago. Will had never met silver-haired Jem in this life before that battle, only dark-haired Jem. Now that he thought about it, it seemed strange to recognise him so instantly.

And Will was sure it was the same for Jem. Even with his helm, Jem had recognised Will. Not in this battle, obviously, but the first one.

Jem gently pushed Will upright, tears glistening in his silver eyes.

I remember.

Will's mouth curved up into a smile, and he managed to reply through the blood spilling out through his lips.

I remember.

Jem lent forward and pressed a kiss to Will's forehead before lying him down gently on the sun-baked sand. A tear fell from his eyes and splashed onto Will's cheek. Will looked up at his soulmate, and then past him, into the shining sun and let himself be drawn up, and up, and up…

"Took you long enough." One soul said to another as they finally joined one another again. "I've been waiting for years."

"I never did get to say I'm sorry, did I?" The other soul replied, silver hair reverting to normal black as they strolled along the riverbank.

"Actually, you did. As I was dying. From your sword in my stomach, remember?" The first soul smirked, leading the way. The other sighed.

"Well, I'm sorry again. This wasn't the best of lives, was it?"

"No. Ready to try again?"

They wandered, hand in hand through the sunlit plains, knowing that they would be found when the time was right. They used the time to get to know one another again, and each fell in love with the other just that little bit more.

A bird trilled. The wind whistled through the trees.

"It's time. Are you ready?"

"I'm always ready, William."

"Alright, James, no need to get snarky."

"Says you!"

Laughter echoed.

"Here we are."

Water splashed.

"Bottoms up."

Silence.

"See you soon."

"Until then."

AN: ... hey guys... remember me? I'm so sorry this took so long! There's one more chapter to come, and it's only very short so hopefully *taps on wood* it will be up soon.

Also, a little explanation of what happened this chapter: Will and Jem are soulmates, and are destined to meet in each of their lives. However, Jem killed Will in this life (oops) and so Will waited for him (in the Underworld - this is a Greek AU of course) and they moved to the next life together. In the few moments before Will died, he regained his memories of his previous lives, as did Jem. So Jem had to live knowing who he'd killed (again, oops). But when they go to the next life, they lose their memories until one of them dies.

Anyway, please leave your thoughts in that little box below, and I'll see you in the next chapter!