title: lenta iudiciis

dedicated to snow, for getting me interested in divergent, and mum, for buying it for me.

character(s)/ pairings: natalie prior; caleb prior; robert black; marcus*.
a/n: this is a series of drabbles/one-shots on moments in the priors' choosing ceremony from the pov of various characters. they're all unconnected. more at the bottom.
edit: now a one-shot.
challenge/competition this was written for: project pull

i. natalie

As he steps down, he averts his eyes. He's not going to even look at his parents. And it might be the last time he ever sees them. Beside you, your husband is seething, but inside you, your heart is breaking.

Why didn't you notice the changes?

Then your daughter steps up. Takes the dagger. She is pale, sweaty. Her grip on the dagger is so tight she might look scary - if she didn't look so scared. She drags the dagger across her palm quickly, then hesitates.

Your blood pounds in your ears and you grip your husband's hand.

Your Abnegation daughter has chosen Dauntless over the faction she was born in. Your Abnegation son is now an Erudite.

You probably should have seen it coming - you could tell by the look of worry, fear and indecision your daughter's eyes as you talked to her yesterday and this morning. You thought it was just her being worried about the initiation, but in fact it was because she didn't know whether to stay at home with everything just like she was used to, or step out into the world for herself. You suspected something, but it was much, much bigger than what you thought.

But the fact that your son left you - that hurts more, because he lied. He covered up his true nature and gave you the impression that he was definitely choosing Abnegation. You were too worried about what was going on with your daughter to look at your son closely - he always seemed so at home here, in Abnegation.

It's ridiculous that you hadn't predicted this sooner. But you were worrying about other things - like whether her tests, or Caleb's tests, had come up with the same results as yours: Divergent.

She can't be Divergent, of course. Both of them can't be. That's just out of the question, and if one of them is… you'd have guessed, wouldn't you?

It breaks you. It breaks you so, so much, but you smile at her as she anxiously searches you out in the crowds. You do still have a bit of Dauntless left in you; somewhere, somehow, you find the courage to smile, even though your two beloved children are going away forever.

You smile. You have courage. You're Dauntless. You smile.

ii. caleb

Your hands are shaking. You feel absolutely cold, absolutely numb.

And nobody notices. You've trained yourself so well to hide your emotions that nobody has ever guessed. Not Mum, not Beatrice, not Robert, not Dad. Not even Susan.

You gulp as the line in front of you gets thinner. Susan. You've thought about how Mum would react, and Dad, and Beatrice. But not Susan.

Will she remember your kiss with her two weeks ago as the start to your relationship, or as her first heartbreak?

You're still unsure. You've set your sights to getting Erudite, which you thought you'd do. You thought you'd drag the dagger across your palm then watch as your blood falls, signifying your choosing of Erudite over Abnegation, Dauntless, Amity and Candor.

But you were never sure. Not really. Look at you now, making a split-second decision when you thought it was already over and done with.

Then it's your turn. Your name is called out.

You forget about Susan.

iii. robert

Because I'm always going to be trapped if I don't do it.

But my parents. And Susan. They need me.

You're arguing the hell out of yourself, and you still have no idea what to do. You're very worried; who wouldn't be, after all? But you're sure that you're more fidgety and nervous than any of the teenagers before you - they all seem to know exactly what they're going to do, exactly which faction to take. You glance at your neighbor Beatrice Prior. You quite like her, though you don't know her very well. She's wiping her hands on her pants over and over, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead. You watch her for a while. The rhythmic movement of her hands somehow soothes you, makes you forget yourself - what you've always been taught to do - until you're called.

As if on cue, you're called.

The sound of your name zaps you out of what you were doing - pleasantly watching a random girl wipe sweat on her pants, tralala, it's a fine day.

Marcus holds the knife out to you and suddenly the day looks stormy.

You bite my lip and take it, your heart doing a crazy dance in your ribcage and your ears ringing so badly it almost hurts. But you don't sweat like Beatrice. You go cold. Numb.

You think back to your Aptitude Tests result. Erudite.

You think back to your wonderful, wonderful childhood. How nice it felt to be selfless. Abnegation.

You rock back and forth on the balls of your feet. You're wasting time, and Marcus shows that he thinks so, too by snorting impatiently. You wonder how many times he's done this: watched an indecisive teenager make the choice that will decide his fate.

Your hand prickles with pain as you cut yourself with the knife, but that doesn't matter.

Be selfless or be smart.

And you choose the latter. You don't know why. You don't know how. But it feels good. It feels good to be smart. A murmur, quiet but agitated, rises from the Abnegation and Erudite crowd.

But would it have felt just as good to be selfless?

You watch the blood trickle out of your hand. It's dark red. You concentrate on the blood, trying to forget everything. Trying to forget yourself. Old habits die hard.

The sound of a woman crying reaches your ears. You know who it is and the last thing you want to do right now is to see her face, but you can't help it. You turn to look at your mother, her face buried in her hands.

Your father looks back at you, expressionless.

You wonder if they'll come to see you on Visiting Day.

iv. marcus

You watch as the teenagers slowly make their way up to you, one by one, ever so slowly. It's like this every year. It's something you're used to.

Most of them will be confident about their choice. Most of them stay in their own factions; they're too young. Too young to understand that faction is always before blood.

And some of them are less sure. These are the interesting ones, the ones that fascinate you. These are the ones who are torn between two choices, completely and utterly torn into half. Sometimes in a fit of madness, madness induced by confusion and fear, they choose randomly. They let their hands choose for them. They leave the entire fate of their lives literally in their hands.

Sometimes these random choices are good ones. And sometimes they are not.

As you pass the knife to a blond boy from Candor, your mind drifts back to your son. Everyone thinks he's a terrible boy: that he destroyed Abnegation honor by placing himself before his father, but you know better. You know the truth. You know why he left. And now, so does Jeanine, that horrible woman. She will do anything to get her hands on a scandal, and this is certainly one. But she won't succeed. You know she won't. It's been hidden in the dark for almost eighteen years, and it will stay hidden for more.

It was his fault, anyway. Tobias chose the wrong path and he should know it by now. Everything you did for him was for his own good. He should have known. He should have known.

Your grip involuntarily tightens around the knife as you hand it to a girl from Amity, who slides the knife with trembling hands over her left palm and holds it over Abnegation. You raise your eyebrows. The first transfer to your faction of the day.

It goes on. People transfer and change, people stay and choose the path on which they are guaranteed to be safe.

In the end, everything's the same. You end up with a family either way.

People always forget that.

* - i sort of forgot his last name. /ashamed

a/n: thanks so, so much for beta'ing, outofthesun and the sun in splendor. if you're from the harry potter fandom, you should check her out; her fic 'livid as a bruise' is just flawless. also, special thanks to outofthesun for giving me lots of useful criticism.

also i would like to ask you to please not ship caleb with anybody because he belongs to me. :) if you do i can't guarantee that you're going to live for a very long time.

this was written for project pull.

please don't favourite without reviewing.