Chapter Text
Intent eyes studied the soft water lapping at the grass bank, the delicate ripples folding atop each other as slender fingers disturbed the serenity.
Tris liked water; it was as soothing as it was terrifying, a fascinating dichotomy in the natural world. Not unlike fire, she mused, though fire destroyed where water cleansed.
The wasn’t much natural water in water in the city. There was the large reservoir just east of the Amity farms that cut through the city, but the fence prohibited any marine travel, erected just half a kilometre from the shoreline.
The two rivers that intersected in the centre dwindled every summer, kept alive barely by the occasional torrent. She knew though, could see, that the rivers widened a mile or so outside of the fence.
Outside of the fence.
Tris couldn’t think about it for too long despite her lacking imagination. There was such a thing, after all, as too many options.
She’d never been artistically inclined- her time at school had taught her as much. It needed to really, considering her sheltered childhood. Abnegation would never promote the indulgence of hobby, regardless of an individuals level of skill.
That didn’t mean she couldn’t appreciate beauty, though. If anything, her inability to capture a scene in any sort of medium, made her appreciate it more.
Dauntless had helped her in that respect; the ever-present danger thrust upon its faction members forced her to adopt a more…cherishing view of the world. Will had taught her the phrase “Carpe Diem”, explaining that the phrase originated from a long dead language of which some of their words evolved.
Tris thought that it summed up the Dauntless quite well. As long as she didn’t dwell on the fact that a caged animal might find it difficult to “seize the day”.
They had all they needed within the fence. She was selfish to yearn for more when she already had more than some.
She slapped the surface of the water with the palm of her hand, flinching as the resounding splash dampened her skin. Four years in Dauntless could not undo a childhood in Abnegation.
The resentment left a sour taste in her mouth, not because she had a particularly bad childhood; she had been loved and nurtured to the best of her parents’ ability which couldn’t have been easy with what little they made do with. But Tris knew her years in the monochromic faction had dulled her zest for life; a zest that could only be rejuvenated by a twenty-storey zip line or overcoming a collection of your worst fears.
The fear of not conforming- a fear instilled in her by Tori, her aptitude test administrator, had diluted somewhat. She was learning to accept her hidden status as divergent despite not fully understanding the label, if only to battle any rousing suspicion- a suspicion that could cost her job, reputation or even her life.
She had bumped into Tori a few times in the Dauntless compound but the tight-lipped woman had done little to enlighten her to the dangers associated with the label other than emphasising the importance of keeping her mouth shut.
Tori had said that as long as she managed to pass the initiation process, most of the danger would be behind her.
And she had. Though she had struggled initially, she had grown into the Dauntless way of life, had slipped past the animosity of the faction leaders, earning her a job in the control room. It was tedious work and not half as active as she would’ve liked after years of being cooped up in a self-rejecting cage, but she had a small apartment and friends to occupy her time.
She felt more free than she had in Abnegation but she still didn’t feel free.
She wondered if those who had been sorted definitively into a faction and had subsequently chosen that result, if they felt free. She was too scared to ask Will or Christina.
Tris let her eyes follow the movement of the water for a minute or so, furrowing her brow deep enough to provoke a quiet ache behind her eyes. A sudden wind whipped the loose hairs against her damp skin, and she ground her teeth together in consternation. She let the breeze carry her head towards the glass spires of the Erudite sector, pristine and ultilitarian.
It seemed foolish to pursue truth or freedom or whatever she was lacking amongst the cold and collected of the Erudite.
It seemed even more idiotic to continue as she was, expecting some grand change to present itself and rid her of her restlessness.
Tris took the long way back to the Dauntless compound, swerving through abandoned streets that were unimportant enough to restore, letting her feet crunch the gravel until a fervent ache spread through her muscles.
She wondered, and not for the first time, if this was going to be the scariest thing she would ever do.
———
“I’m going to do it.” Tris bit out, downing the shot of alcohol and bracing herself for Christina’s reaction.
The pair of them were seated at the bar of one of the many drinking establishments that lined the walls of the Pit, after an uneventful day watching the security footage in the control room. Though Christina had ranked higher than her in initiation, she was perpetually glad the ex-candor had stuck by her side, breaking up the monotony of her occupational routine.
Tris was convinced that if Christina wasn’t situated a few desks away from her, she would’ve flung herself into the chasm. The thought was bad taste, but she couldn’t bring herself to care.
“You’re gonna go out with him?!” Christina squealed, slapping Tris’ forearm excitedly.
Tris swallowed back the bile that rose at the thought of accepting Four’s advances, needlessly smoothing down her skin-tight top as she collected herself.
“You know that’s not what I meant.” she muttered, eyeing Christina carefully.
Though the bar was poorly lit, Tris could make out the purple streak in her friend’s hair, stretching from the root, down to the edge of her shoulder. Initially, she had been pissed that Tris had backed out of her promise but her candor self-assurance hadn’t taken too long to kick in.
Especially after Will had complimented the decision.
Tris found it funny that choosing to get a tattoo had been easier than deciding to dye her hair.
Maybe her assertiveness had regressed. Maybe the longer she toiled in an unfulfilling environment, the more unsure she became about anything.
Christina clicked her tongue but it wasn’t reprimanding. “Ballsy move.” she commended, propping her elbow up onto the sticky countertop.
“You’re not surprised.” Tris observed, narrowing her eyes at her smirking companion. It irked her a little that Christina seemed to know her better than she knew herself.
“Oh, come on Tris! You hate your job!” she whined, “The last time I saw you as determined as you were during initiation was when Max put out the request. I’m just surprised it’s taken you this long to reach this decision.”
Tris groaned, thunking the tip of her boot against the bar defeatedly. “Well, thanks for telling me.” she grumbled, plonking her chin onto her crossed arms as she eyed Christina over the rim of the shot glass.
“You’re a fucking delight, you know that?” she grinned.
“Oh, I’m sorry that my misery is not entertaining.” Tris countered. Understanding and using sarcasm was perhaps one of the best things she had learned since transferring.
Surprisingly though, Christina didn’t rise to the bait. Instead she settled Tris with an unnervingly introspective gaze and slid the clear liquid still in her glass, across the bar.
“Peter’s going as well. You’re gonna need that.” she explained, smiling at the grimaced that passed over Tris’ features.
“Oh, fuck me.” she growled, swallowing the liquid without much coercion.
“Hey, your cursing is coming on nicely!” Christina grinned, ignoring her pained stare.
Her friends were nothing if not a bad influence.
“Seriously though, it’ll be over in…a month, was it? If you hate it then you’ll be back with lil’ ol’ me in no time. Fucking around behind Four’s back over and over again ‘cause he has the hots for you.”
Tris could tell that Christina was trying to trivialise the situation, probably to abate her not-so-subtle worry but her friend’s words scared her more than comforted.
“What if I love it?” she whispered, like she was betraying her chosen faction.
Christina smiled her all-knowing smirk and raised her hand towards the bartender, ordering two more of the same. Tris clenched her teeth in frustration, feeling as if Christina didn’t quite understand the severity of her confusion. She watched in conspicuous irritation as the barkeep sloshed the alcohol into the glasses and slid them over to Christina with a wink. She shook her head dismissively, loyal to Will, before lifting the glass for Tris to take.
“Cheers?” she offered.
Tris took the glass begrudgingly, the faint dink of the collision barely audible over the rowdy bar.
Christina empty the glass with ease, slamming it back on the countertop and wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
“If you love it, then you’ll have to make them want to keep you.”
———
Tris was up early the next morning, her sleep having been broken by niggling worries and self-doubt. In the end she rose just before dawn, taking her nervous energy and spinning it into something more proactive. She left the training room with red knuckles and a pounding heart but felt no less anxious.
During breakfast she kept her mouth shut, choosing to focus on the oatmeal in her bowl. Though a staple part of an Abnegation diet, the food was annoyingly still her preference in the morning. Will and Christina had teased her about it to the point where she added a drizzle of honey just to get them to relent, despite preferring it without.
She was growing to enjoy it, even if there was still a small amount of guilt attached to eating anything vaguely sweet or seasoned.
When Max had first gathered the initiates of the past five years and told them of Erudite’s request, Tris had scoffed. She thought it typical of the arrogant faction to assume their work was more important to the extent where they needed extra security. She also thought that the work would be demeaning and menial.
Looking back she realised that she had been lying to herself, probably in an attempt to convince herself that she was content.
It only took a couple of days for her to start rationalising the prospect of taking it up. She was restless and curious which annoyingly tracked considering her lack of mental stimulation. The Dauntless transfer was one-third Erudite, after all.
“I think you’re going to love it.”
Tris looked up from her, now cold, oatmeal, to meet Will’s gaze.
“I mean, I turned out pretty well didn’t I?”
She smirked as Christina kicked him under the table with a snort.
“Exceedingly humble as well.”
“Well, what can I say? I tick all the boxes.” he grinned, taking bite of his bacon.
“Oh sure, let’s just go for a dip, yeah?” Christina mocked, with a knowing look.
Will’s mildly affronted gasp forced Tris to bit her lip in amusement.
“It is not uncommon to not know how to swim! Sixty-eight percent of the city’s inhabitant’s can’t swim!” he protested with vigour. It was a sour spot that Christina so enjoyed exploiting.
“Yeah, but unfortunately for you the both of us can.” she grinned, motioning between herself and Tris with the half-eaten pancake in her hand.
“It is kind of ironic, isn’t it? That your faction’s symbol was water and you couldn’t swim.” Tris added, unable to stop herself.
Christina’s bubble of laughter was worth Will’s unimpressed expression and any subsequent loss of respect of her character.
“You know what? I can’t wait for you to actually have to verbally spar with someone and not just jab them in the throat.” Will smirked, triumphantly.
“I won’t have to - it’s just security! Besides, violence is always an option.”
“That’s my girl!” Christina exclaimed with a wide smile, high-fiving her over the table. “Now, go kick some conceited ass and come back smart enough to put Will in his place.”
“Oh, challenge accepted.” Will grinned, stuffing the last of his bacon in his mouth. “And try not to open the door for anyone, ok? It’s a dead giveaway that you were Abnegation.”
Tris glared at him over her mug of coffee and gave him the finger.
“Now, that’s more like it!” he praised, dodging Tris’ hand as she leant over to slap his arm.
She knew where he was coming from but the insinuation that Abnegation had done nothing for her grated on her nerves just a little. It was no secret that Erudite were generally hostile towards members of her old faction- a fact that Tris had been all too aware of prior to her Choosing Ceremony. The articles published by the infamous leader of Erudite, Jeanine Matthews, implied the misconduct and mismanagement of the cities’ leaders which all hailed from the faction, deemed optimal for the job based on their selfless values.
Tris had seen, first hand, the effect the aforementioned texts had on her father, a respected council member, the stress lines that marred his face and the premature greying of his hair. As far as she knew, and she figured she knew a great deal more than Jeanine Matthews did on the topic, the claims were baseless and provocative.
Her opinions on the matter were part of the reason that she had yet to reach out to her brother, Caleb, after his decision to transfer to Erudite. Tris knew that technically, the mingling of faction members, no matter their relation, was prohibited outside of Visiting Day, but she also knew that if she was determined enough then she wouldn’t’ve have let that stop her.
She was just glad her mother came to visited whenever the leaders would allow. Her father was, apparently, laden with work but she figured the same could be applied to him.
Perhaps it was pride, or perhaps it was a paranoid resentment that she and Caleb had conspired to defect. She would rather he didn’t visit if he would be throwing accusations her way.
Her brother stayed on her mind as she followed a small group of young Dauntless, some recognisable, most not, through the lanes of the Pit and into one of the meeting rooms.
If she was chosen she, too, would be seeking truth and freedom from a faction that had discriminated against her family for years.
There was also the likely possibility that she would see Caleb. A black clad soldier would be easy to spot in a sector of primly dressed intellectuals.
The thought plagued her mind as she sat amid her fellow faction members, waiting for Max to emerge and tell them more of the opportunity. She was too preoccupied to even spare a glare for Peter who lounged languidly against the stone wall nearest the door.
When Max arrived, the room fell silent, all eyes falling to his stocky figure at the head of the room. Tris wasn’t sure she had ever seen him smile.
“Line up!” he ordered, barely glancing up as he fiddled around on a tablet in the palm of his hand.
Tris hurried to comply, watching as several lines formed with various Dauntless leaders heading them. She picked the line to the far right, with slightly less severe-looking, older man heading it.
“Erudite transfers out!” Max barked, cutting off any protestations.
Tris narrowed her eyes at the order, observing as three men and one woman slinked out of the room looking put out. She thought it was a strange prerogative until she reached the conclusion that, giving the request went out for younger Dauntless members, some of the people present might simply be using the offer as an opportunity to see their families.
She hoped that her situation with her brother was too convoluted to draw attention to.
Her confusion resurfaced though, when the three lines were instructed to separate so that the rest of the line were several meters behind the first person.
“Answer the ten questions. You have seven minutes each.” Max spoke curtly.
Tris clenched her jaw in consternation, trying to work out the motive behind the instructions. What were the questions? Why did they all need to answer them? Was this some kind of test?
The thought rattled her while she waited through the minutes as the two people in front of her tapped on the tablet, held by whoever was up front. The three lines were short, four or five in each and, added with the pressure of having your decisions timed by your fellow Dauntless, most of the young people sped through the questions.
It went fast enough that Tris assumed the questions were basic, perhaps a short portfolio to fill out but, as she stepped up to the tablet, she was sorely mistaken.
The screen was blank save for a grid full of several different types of shapes and the request that she pick with shape would “logically” appear next.
Tris put the pieces together fairly quickly, given the context. She would be waltzing around the Erudite sector so, logically, it must be an intelligence test.
She exhaled deeply and worried her lip. She had never needed to be clever before, only selfless, then brave. She only had the vague memory of the few tests they did in school as a measure of this kind of thing.
She had never really excelled at school.
———
It went quicker than it had felt watching the other Dauntless answering the questions. She hadn’t rushed, largely because most of the excesses required a fair bit of brain power so she simple couldn’t- not unless she wished to guess the answers. Some of it was required identifying patterns, in shapes and numbers for example, while some were dedicated to memory.
Most of them stumped her and when the answer came to her quickly, she worried she was misunderstanding something. She felt foolish assuming that working with Erudite wouldn’t require a measure of her intelligence, even if what little information Max had offered solely detailed security roles.
When she stepped away from the tablet, she felt flustered and unsure. There had been no indication of a mark throughout the process so she had no idea how she had done, but the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach told her that she hadn’t done well.
Walking tersely over to the others who had finished, Tris sat down with her back against the wall. She wished she could withdraw whatever she had just submitted and leave the room; go back to her comfortable everyday routine.
She was small and slim; she enjoyed being underestimated, enjoyed the inevitable look of shock as she demonstrated her physical ability.
She didn’t like the idea that others would see a definitive result which they would then use to measure her worth in whatever this exercise was.
Peter’s cocky grin and swagger would’ve pushed her over the edge if it hadn’t been Uriah’s gentle smile as he settled next to her.
Tris had been too wrapped up in her own head to notice a friend was here with it. Well, more of an acquaintance perhaps, but a kind acquaintance- she knew that much.
Observing her stress-induced fidgeting, he placed his warm hand over hers and squeezed a little before pulling away. He didn’t say anything, he couldn’t really in the oppressive silence of the room, but he didn’t need to.
His quiet company was calming enough.
They watched together as the last couple of Dauntless moved towards their, now-crowded, corner, following Max’s movements as he motioned for the other authority figures to come to him. He tapped each screen a few times, sometimes swiping, before regarding the group of them with steely eyes.
“Aren’t you going to tell us what we’re doing here?”
The sharp voice sounded from Tris’ left and she turned quickly, to find its source. A young girl, maybe eighteen or so, was tapping her foot rhythmically, impatiently as she watched Max. She looked more ‘Dauntless’ than Tris, with brightly coloured hair and a sleeve of tattoos extending the length of her right arm.
Her deep scowl screamed Dauntless as well, though, going by Max’s displeased face, Tris thought her dedication to the faction’s stereotype might catch her out just this once.
“Out.” Max gritted, his eyes cold.
She had never really liked Max but she had worked out fairly early on in the initiation process that he was someone the Dauntless respected immensely. The outspoken girl seemed to have realised this too, because she stood and left with minimal attitude.
“Now, when I call your name, you are to return to your schedule for today.” Max instructed.
Without waiting for a reply, he began reading from the middle screen, checking each name called corresponded with the departure of a Dauntless.
“Return to your schedule for today”
Tris knew that meant that whoever was called, had failed the exercise. Her breath grew shallower and shallower as the number of Dauntless dwindled.
Max looked up from the screen for the last time when five of them remained.
“This is a commitment,” he urged with a deep exhale, “I am unable to tell you more at present but this is your last time to turn away.”
The five of them nodded hesitantly and Tris took the time to scan the group. Uriah had remained next to her, but Peter was also resting against the wall. The two other Dauntless looked younger than herself and looked vaguely familiar but she didn’t know their names. They were both male though, making her the only girl left.
She swallowed harshly.
“There are cars outside. They will take you to Erudite.” Max nodded, dismissing himself.
Tris was a millisecond from turning to Uriah in confusion, when his heavy footsteps stalled by the door.
“Good luck.”
The words were wrung of encouragement, instead veiled only in warning. It would’ve been strange to have their stony-faced leader initiate any sort of kindness but she would’ve taken the sentiment over this layered tone.
It made Tris doubt every decision she had made up until this moment.