Greyjoy, the transfer initiate from Amity. She has a mischievous streak as bright as the Amity clothes she transferred in, except often it toes the line of disrespect with sass, jokes, shit-eating grins and an excitement worse than a dog's. Eric noticed her the first day of training. The first time he saw her skipping at the lead of the running pack, he vowed to wipe that joy off her face.
"Initiate in front!" he had shouted, leaving his friends and prowling over to intercept Four's run. "Halt!" Four kept going, jaw tightening. The other initiates slowed a bit, but overall kept going, her friends casting concerned looks back. She stopped in front of Eric and stared at him with wide eyes. Behind them, Eric's friends Harrison and David chuckled darkly. "You think this is a game, Amity? A game of roses and sunshine?"
"No, sir."
"Then stop treating it that way. You will run after training today to make up for this morning, and you will run until I tell you to stop. Understand?"
"Yes, sir."
Eric nodded and stepped back. "Get going."
She shot off after the others, actually running now instead of that Amity skipping-shit she had been pulling. "I hate training transfers," Eric muttered. They were all full of varying ideals, levels of denial, different psychiatric disorders, opposing attitudes, and above all thought they knew how the world ran. Let's also not forget the varying levels of stupidity. Amity transfers usually led the pack on that, as this one just proved. "Let's finish up the patrol," Eric told Harrison and David.
When Eric finished up his patrol and paper work for the day, he rejoined Four for the last ten minutes. All the initiates faced individual punching bags, throwing kicks and punches as hard as they can. "You're here for the Amity?" Four asked without taking his eyes off their fighting forms.
"She'll be running for a while after you leave."
"Don't lose her on the first day," Four said. "I want to keep them all at least until rankings."
"You don't need to worry," Eric assured him with hollow words. He didn't truly care, as long as they figured out where their place stood in society.
Eric lifted his chin a bit as the initiates gathered around Four for the final announcements of the day. "You all are free for the night. Go enjoy yourselves. Training starts at eight sharp tomorrow. If you're late, you're out. No exceptions." The initiates filed out, relief and excitement mixing on their faces. Eric noticed that the Amity stayed without a reminder. Good. Four glanced at the Amity with a bit of pity before exiting. "See you tomorrow, Eric."
"See you then. Now, Amity, I want you to run. You will run until I tell you to stop. And you will run as if you have a thousand demons on your heels. Do you understand, softie?"
"I think so. I mean, I'm not Erudite, but..."
"GO!" Eric roared. She took off without another word, taking Eric's order to heart and fleeing as if she had just committed a crime. He smirked and left. His stomach growled. Some supper sounded good. He sauntered off for an hour, killing time. In fact, he almost forgot about her until he saw Four glance over at him from across the Pit. He supposed it'd be good to tell her to stop or to yell at her if she already had. He returned to the training room, pleasantly surprised to find her still running. "You can stop initiate."
She kept going. Eric watched her, confused. When it became obvious she had no plan to stop, he folded his arms and watched her. A half hour later, she came to halt near the door. The Amity grabbed her black sweatshirt in a pile on the floor and started out the door. "You didn't follow my orders, initiate. That's going to dock you points."
"Once I'm done training I can do what I want with my free time. I chose to run," she panted.
Eric rolled his eyes. Initiates.
"Greyjoy and Tyrion," Four called out. The two approached each other in the ring, shaking hands and smiling. She winked and he gave a nervous laugh. "Fight." Eric had his bet on the Erudite transfer, Tyrion. From what he had seen, the Amity didn't have the right disposition to beat someone into submission. He was wrong. She hooked Tyrion in the face and kneed him in the stomach. Tyrion doubled over, and she brought her foot down on his head. He hit the mat, dazed. Damn, Eric thought. Short fight.
"Well?" Eric asked when she didn't move. The Amity transfer just looked over at him, obviously confused. "Is he unable to fight?" The boy, Tyrion, groaned and started to sit up. "Finish it!" Eric commanded.
She looked down at the boy and then back up at Eric. "No. He's had enough."
If it had worked on the Candor girl Christina last year, then it would work on Greyjoy this year. "Get over here," Eric snarled. Before she could even move he stepped up, grabbed her by the collar, and dragged her out of the training room. Everyone's eyes followed them, but no one dared move after the pair. "If you can't learn to listen to orders, then you don't belong here," he barked at her. She barely kept her footing as he strode through the halls. "And if you can't learn respect for your leaders, then I will beat it into you." With that he hung her over the chasm. "I suggest you grab the railings," he hissed. He let go, and she latched onto the railing. For a brief second, fear lit her eyes and Eric felt satisfied.
And then she started to do pull ups.
"What the hell are you doing?"
"Hanging around. Being useful."
Eric just stared at her, the satisfaction draining from him. After just three minutes her arms quivered with the effort. Originally, he had planned for five minutes. "Time," he said, reaching down and pulling her up. She collapsed on the bridge, panting. The sheer gall she had... "Learn to take this seriously," he said before leaving her alone.
Eric was so fucking sick of her. "Amity, what the hell are you doing?" he growled, stalking over to her juggling show. She caught the three airborne knives one at a time and chucked them all at the target. One actually hit the target, almost dead center, but the other two bounced off the wall with a useless clatter. She just laughed. The other initiates around her had the sense to cower away from Eric.
"Trying something new. Didn't work, I guess," she answered, swinging her gaze to him and going to pick up another knife.
That was it. "If you can't fucking take this training seriously-," he had no words. He tried to summon the right language to encompass the level of fury, annoyance, stress and confusion she caused him, of the almost uncontrollable need to slap her repeatedly, but he failed. Instead he picked up a knife and threw it. Four's stomach tightened, but Greyjoy dodged by a simple step to the side.
"You missed, cross-eyed pansy cake." Oh, dear.
Silence reigned over the room as Eric's face turned purple. Then he broke the quiet with a roaring, "IN THE RING!"
"Eric, she's just an initiate-,"
"SHUT THE FUCK UP, FOUR!" Eric snapped. He threw his jacket onto the ground and jumped into the ring.
Greyjoy followed suit, bringing her fists up to protect her face. "I'm so fucked," she laughed, tensing the moment Eric stepped forward. He swung, and she managed to dodge. After another swing, he realized he didn't care about slowly humiliating her in a drawn out fight. He wanted her on the ground and submissive now. With a growl he lunged, seized her collar, and brought her face down onto his fist. Then he spun and kicked her across the jaw. Once again surprising him with her innate ability to piss him off, she retaliated by punching him the stomach not once, but three successive times. He grabbed onto her shoulders and shoved her to the ground, stomping on her hand and kicking her in the side.
"GET UP!"
She leaped to her feet and slammed her shoulders into him again. This time she tried to hook a foot around his and sweep him to the ground, but he grabbed her shoulders once again and threw her. Right out of the ring. She hit the ground with a sickening thud and a groan. But he wasn't done.
Eric leaped out of the ring and picked her up again, slamming her into the wall face first. The moment he let go she turned around and spat blood on his face. He punched her square in the jaw. Then he did it again. And again. Hands grabbed him and pulled him off her. "Eric!" Four held the leader back and ordered, "Sani, Todd, get her to the infirmary," Four ordered. He pulled Eric towards the door as quick as he could, and then he remembered the other initiates just standing there and watching. "Lunch break now. Be back in an hour and half." The initiates stared after their two instructors. Eric looked back at Todd, Sani, and Greyjoy to see her try to stand on her own but unable. The other two helped her to her feet and practically began to carry her. The doors then shut on the sight. For the first time since entering Dauntless, guilt touched his chest.
Max and Lauren found them in the hall before Four even thought of where to start looking for the other two leaders. Apparently they had already seen Greyjoy on the way to the infirmary. "What happened to her?" Max demanded.
Four looked at Eric, standing quietly with his hands clasped in front of him, eyes on the ground. Perhaps if Four hadn't been the subject of some of Eric's cruelty, then maybe he would have felt a twinge of pity for the leader. But he had seen it too many times. "Eric threw a knife at her and missed, she talked back, and then he proceeded to beat her." He wouldn't cover this to protect Eric.
Eric opened his mouth to defend himself, but trailed off before he even began. "Really?" Lauren asked, incredulous. She had figured another initiate had gotten out of control. Eric nodded, eyes on the ground. "Why would you do that, Eric?"
"I... don't know." Four saw true uncertainty in his gaze.
"You could lose your position. What you did could have killed her - you threw a knife at her with intent to harm, I presume?" Max spoke. "Mindless violence isn't tolerated here. You know that. If you can't control yourself, you'll have to step down."
"It won't happen again," Eric promised.
Max and Lauren looked like they wanted to say more but recognized that it would be useless. Obviously, much to all of their surprise, Eric seemed genuine about his promise and guilt. Four laid a hand on Eric's shoulder and led him away after nodding to both leaders. "Let's just... forget it happened," Four said to Eric. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Yeah."
That night Eric laid in bed with his hands on his face, trying to push the images from his mind. But he couldn't. He kept shifting, trying to catch sleep's elusive pelt. Finally, he got out of bed and halfway to the door with a jacket and boots thrown on before he told himself it was stupid - there wasn't a thing he could do for her in the infirmary. God, this guilt was going to twist his insides to a bloody mess. But he managed to keep himself in his apartment, even if he didn't sleep.
The next day Eric arrived first, before even Four. The other instructor looked surprised, but made no comment on the matter. Gradually the other initiates filed in. She came in last. Purple bruises covered her face, and her right eye was swollen shut. Her lip had a nice gash on it, and he didn't want to think too much about the way she limped and held her side with a hand. "Greyjoy," Eric called. She looked up and he jerked his head to a spot a bit further away, out of earshot of the other. The Amity followed him obediently. She had no bounce in her step, and her eyes looked dead.
Eric swallowed - he had never beat anyone like that. Very few people in Dauntless had ever beat another member like this except in their own initiate class, and even then the only time he could think was when Four had crushed Eric into the ground. Maybe that's why he felt so guilty, he wondered. Did this remind him of himself?
He lifted his arm to rest it on her shoulders "How are you?" he asked awkwardly once they were away from the other initiates and Four, hand hovering over her instead of its original intent.
She looked him full in the eye and grinned ear to ear. "I think I still have more teeth than you."
Eric just stared. Did she just...? And then he couldn't help it. It just slipped out. He chuckled and grinned back, revealing the gold tooth he had received three years ago after his fight with Four. "I can't believe you," he said. Shaking his head, he inclined his head to her, just the smallest gesture of respect. That glint in her eye shone through the pain-riddled haze in her gaze, and suddenly Eric felt his world turn a bit. "I can't fucking believe you." He rested a hand on her back. Before pushing her away, his thumb rubbed a gentle line up and down on her back. "Sorry," he finally managed. Before she could reply he urged her away and said, "Don't go too hard today."
"I dunno if I could if I wanted." She limped back. Four had watched the exchange with concern, but the grin on both of their faces casted the doubt away. Eric looked like he was done trying to beat her into line. In fact, that was a look Four had never seen on the leader's face before, something almost... soft.
The paintball game was the last incident. While on the train Greyjoy had been examining her gun, investigating every part with an Erudite-like curiosity. Eric watched her wearily. In this small space, a paintball going off could startle someone and send them stumbling into someone else, which could knock them out of the train. As much as he said he didn't care for their lives, his leadership position was already on a thread. Four didn't like the look of her fiddling either. He jerked his head to her, eyes on Eric. Eric nodded and moved over to snatch the gun from her hand. "Initiate, we haven't explained -,"
Splat.
She stared at him with wide eyes. Eric reached up and wiped the green paint from his face. Then he shot her in face. "Alright, initiates," he began without missing a beat. "This is a Dauntless tradition, so take it seriously. Your goal is to capture the flag..." While speaking Eric glanced over to Greyjoy to make sure she was listening, only to find her rubbing her face on the jacket of a Dauntless born.
"What the hell?" the kid whispered with a laugh. White now smeared his jacket sleeve. Eric had to avert his eyes to keep from showing any sort of humor. Once he was sure the danger was passed, he dared to look her way so he could make eye contact with the other initiates beside her as well.
"White and black make gray, white and black make gray..." The Dauntless born swatted her away, sending her white-spattered face over to the other Amity transfer with a nasty attitude and a violent disposition.
"GREYJOY!" Eric shouted, terror pumping his heart beat. She jumped and looked to him, decisively pulling her out of the danger zone. That other Amity had been responsible for another initiate's death - pushed over the Chasm, masked as suicide. While there was no proof, just like Peter stabbing Edward the year before, everyone knew exactly who did it. Eric didn't know if the other kid would do anything to Grey, but he preferred to not find out.
"Sir?"
"My team," Eric snapped. "Step a toe out of line and I'll send you to the factionless in a rainbow streak. Understood?" She nodded.
Four tried to hide his amused smile, but it didn't quite work. He picked his first team member and then waited his turn. He recognized the feelings behind Eric's recent actions from his own time in the city's public school. The leader was acting like a six year old boy that had a crush on another six year old - instead of being nice he picked on her and insulted her. If her hair was longer he'd probably pull on it. Of course, in Dauntless picking on her meant beating her to a bloody pulp, but the sentiment was still there. Four could see it in how Eric watched her, how he reacted to her every word. Maybe the leader didn't realize it yet, but Four knew it was just a matter of time.
Eric's team hid the flag in a junkyard, which meant thousands of nooks and crannies for people to hide in. Somehow, Four, Tyrion, and Sani managed to dodge and "kill" Eric's team, successfully entering the vicinity of the glowing flag. No one guarded it. Four looked around, eyes pricked for movement. No way was no one here. He had yet to see Eric, which meant the leader was nearby. Tyrion and Sani understood this without words. But Sani still made the run for the flag.
Eric popped out from behind the pile and shot her square in the chest. Four whipped around and shot Eric. Red splattered on his leg, then blue on his stomach and chest. Out. Eric cursed and watched the flag with a clenched jaw. "HA HA HA!" Out of nowhere a garbage can crashed into Four. He fell to the ground, more surprised than anything, and then felt paint splatter on the back of his head. Greyjoy. But right as she swung around to aim at Tyrion...
...he got the flag.
"We did it!" the boy cheered, jumping up and down. Four and Sani both got up and celebrated with the boy, and soon enough their entire team joined. Eric shook his head, obviously pissed about his third loss in a row. And then he got shot. Again. He whipped around and shot her. Greyjoy fell from the garbage pile, sliding on rainbow mud, crashing into Eric's legs. He fell in a heap on top of her.
"I have you now!" She aimed her gun and pulled the trigger. Nothing. "Aw, shit."
Eric pulled his gun and splattered paint across her body. She kicked him away and tried to run, only to slip and fall to the ground before she stood upright. Four watched as Eric threw mud, hitting her in the mouth. She spit and threw some back. "That's it!" Eric leaped up and grabbed her, holding onto her by her waist. Her feet dragged along the ground and her arms dangled as he held her at his side. He walked a few feet and then dropped her into the mud, swiping her gun from her. "You've lost this privilege."
She tackled him. The two wrestled on the ground, but Eric put her in a headlock and growled, "Still want to fight?" But instead of a savage light in his eye Four saw him grinning, laughing, having fun. Fun that didn't involve beating puppies. Greyjoy said something unintelligible and wriggled free of Eric's grasp. Leaving them, Four ushered everyone else to the railroad tracks. The pair could catch the next train if they missed the first.
And they did.
Eric finally pinned her to the ground, breathing short. "You've improved," he said.
"I had some sense knocked into me." And she butted her head against his, just hard enough to startle him. He reared back, allowing her to throw him to the ground and pin him with legs straddling his and arms above his head. When he blinked up at her, her cropped hair a mess, licking her lips, and panting from their fight, he felt a twinge in his pants.
"Get off me," he immediately growled, this time all playfulness gone.
Surprise etched her face. Then she grinned. "Is that because of me?"
"No," he snapped.
"So it's because of the fighting? You get a hard-on for fighting?"
"Greyjoy," he warned. She let go of his arms but didn't get up. He pushed her off, getting to his feet and folding his arms across his chest. Then he saw the train flash by on the tracks. Oh, shit.
"Are you embarrassed?"
"Would you fucking shut up?" Eric barked. She lapsed into silence. He rubbed his eyes and then looked back at the tracks. No way was he going to wait an hour here with her after that just happened. "Let's get walking. Points docked for making a leader late."
"You were having fun," she mumbled.
Eric turned around and grabbed her. He dragged her a short distance and then pushed her into the wall of the tiny shelter house just outside the junkyard. "If you mention a word of this to anyone you will not survive initiation," he told her, arms on both sides of her head. But he didn't even mean the words, and she could tell. Her bruises had receded considerably, but dark spots still dotted her face. At least she could see out her other eye. Guilt still pounded in chest. All he wanted to do was take back that entire day. Well, not entirely. All he really wanted to do was kiss her, fuck her, tell her that he was sorry and never wanted to hurt her, never touch her the wrong way again.
He moved his arm and touched her face. "Not a word," she agreed. His thumb turned into an entire palm encompassing her cheek. Greyjoy leaned into his hand and closed her eyes.
Fuck. Shit. Damn. Fucking fucker. Shaking his head, he took his hand away and stepped back. "We should get going. I doubt tomorrow will be fun with the already minute amount of sleep you'll have." As they started walking, he found the silence awkward. Apparently she did, too, because she began whistling some aimless Amity tune. He reached out rested his hand on the small of her back. "Although I'm not too worried about you getting through initiation."
Thirty seconds. Each fear she faced was gone in under a minute. Normally, that would warrant suspicions of divergency, but not for her. Each defeat of her fear was so frickin' ballsy he wondered how she had ever come from Amity. Her first fear had been a bear, rearing up with long-ass claws and glowing red eyes in a forest of shadows. Instead of turning and running like he knew every initiate would, she dove to the ground, found a stick, and sprang up holding it like a spear. With a few quick steps she dodged its swipes, then stabbed its eye. Over. Just like that. She woke up in her chair, heart pounding, looking around as if she were still in the simulation. Every time he wanted to comfort her, no matter how absurd her cause of fear was. But they had agreed, not a word.
"Calm down, Greyjoy," Eric had said, gazing at the monitor with awe. Holy shit. And every fear, from the ridiculous kitten swarm to the terror of drowning or being burned at the stake, lasted as long as the bear. Not even Four could do it that fast, and he knew his fears inside and out. By the fourth time they had done this and she had succumbed to the kittens all vying for her love, Eric had sat next to her in the chair. She still had at least six minutes before anyone would even begin to expect her to leave - each fear Eric had kept her after to avoid questions from Four and the other leaders.
"Greyjoy," he began. She looked at him with a blank look. "You... have the most ridiculous fears."
And, to his surprise, she laughed. She took no offense. "I know. What are your fears?"
"What makes you think you need to know that?" Eric asked.
"Well, I mean, I figured if my fears are ridiculous then I don't really have any ground for normal fears. So I was wondering if someone average could -,"
He tapped her forehead. "Respect, Grey," he snapped, the nickname just slipping from his mouth. She stared at him, and then a grin stretched across her face. "Greyjoy," he corrected.
"You called me Grey."
"You didn't let me finish -,"
"Do you have nicknames for all initiates? Or just the ones you get a hard-on for?"
He shut his mouth and mustered the most pointed glare he could, but she just folded her arms and sat back with a relaxed smirk, waiting for him to answer. "You're an insolent, disrespectful, idiotic, soft, little vermin-covered..." he trailed off. Her expression wasn't changing. Fuck. And then he had a great idea for how to wipe that smirk off her face. Needless to say, she was thoroughly surprised.
Eric pressed his lips to hers, hand on her waist and the other on her face. Her hands found the way to his face and neck, locking him in place. Now it was his turn to smirk. He nibbled along her bottom lip, and the moment she moaned he slipped his tongue inside her mouth, dragging it maddeningly slow across her own. God, he wanted her so much... Her fingers played at the hem of his pants, signaling his turn to moan and press himself closer, practically climbing on top of her in the chair. They paused just long enough to look at each other. Yes, this was happening. "So fucking sexy," he whispered.
She dodged his lips and bit his neck. His hand found her breasts and massaged them. Bending his head to rest in the crook of her neck, he breathed in her sweet scent and sighed.
"Is this what normally happens or do you actually administer the test?" a voice spoke.
Both of them jumped and broke apart to stare at Four like deer in headlights. "Uh..." Grey started, face a tomato.
"She finished early," Eric said stupidly.
Four nodded. "I actually wanted to talk to her about that." Eric didn't move. "Alone."
"Oh." Eric didn't know how to act after being caught with an initiate. Sure, there were no rules discussing it, but there was certainly a social stigma about it. So he listened to Four and left.
"So you two are... something," Four began.
Greyjoy looked around the room, grasping for some divine inspiration. "Yes, something...?" Obviously the Gods eluded her. She then twiddled her thumbs and avoided eye contact.
Four ran a hand through his short hair and blew out a breath. "As someone who has known him longer, I feel obliged to say... stay safe. He's dangerous - he beat you. As your instructor, however, it is also my pride to say I believe you can handle yourself. But, uh, that's not the real reason I came in here." He sat down and looked at the monitor. "What did you score on your aptitude test?"
"Dauntless."
"Really?" He met her eyes, but the moment he did he realized that she was telling the truth. "Alright. I'm just impressed by your scores, is all. They seem... Erudite-like, with the precision." He scratched his head. "Seriously, how do you do it?"
She shrugged. "I think there's a fine line between bravery and stupidity, and I think my actions under simulation fall under, well, stupidity."
Four chuckled. "You could say that. Although I still think going up against a bear is brave. The bear kind of looked like Eric..." He couldn't help himself. As much as he hoped this girl could change the leader everyone feared and many hated, he worried for her. Many girls thought they could change them, and all of them failed.
"And I beat the bear, didn't I?"
"Yeah. I suppose you did." They looked at each other for a few moments. Four knew he shouldn't worry, and now he felt a little bit better. At least he had tried. "Dismissed, initiate."
Thirty. Thirty fears in total during the final assessment. Eric rubbed his eyes, torn between laughter, anger, and embarrassment. Of all the fears, the ones close to the end consisted of a teddy bear attack, a kitten swarm, being transformed into a wolf, and maybe the most embarrassing one, watching Eric die. The most impressive one, Eric had to say, was when she had the choice to kill three people and she chose to stick the gun in her own mouth. Sure, she only took thirty seconds in each, but it still took her fifteen minutes. Longer than most of the others, but still incredibly impressive. At first Max hadn't wanted to judge her based on number of fears, but gradually all the leaders decided that there had never been such an extreme number before, and never had such an extreme number been performed at such a delightful level.
Eric stood near the back of the crowd with full view of the initiates as Max stepped up to give his short speech. He looked down to hide his grin as Max finished his short speech and the rankings revealed themselves on the largest screen in the compound. There was her name. First place.
The cheering that erupted from the overjoyed initiates, the proud Dauntless families, and the drunk Dauntless members overwhelmed the air and sent quivers down their backs. Once you're a part of Dauntless you never have to bear any victory or shame, sorrow or joy alone. The new Dauntless members understood that when the crowd surged forward and lifted them up like when they first arrived in Dauntless. They got carried, passed along, exalted like Messiahs all the way to the back where they were dropped to their feet.
Eric maneuvered his way and intercepted a few of their drops. He caught a new member or two but tossed them aside, eyes on only one. Even for one as stoic as him, the joy around infected his stomach and heart. "Greyjoy," he greeted, catching her before she dropped and setting her feet on the ground in front of him, hands on her waist. She stared up at him, biggest grin on her face. He let out a chuckle and leaned down. It was over now. If the two Stiffs could do this last year, then Eric had every right to it, too. He kissed her, using a hand on her neck to pull her closer and his other to keep her pressed to his chest. She snaked her hands around his neck.
"Holy shit!"
Eric broke away from Grey and glared at the laughing Pedrad brothers. "Get a room!" Uriah shouted.
Four hung a bit farther back, a quiet, amused smile on his face. Tris looked as if she'd been slapped over the head by a chipmunk, unsure whether to be alarmed or just shocked. Unlike Four, none of the others had walked in on them making out. Eric turned back to Grey and tilted his head towards the door. "Let me welcome you to Dauntless in private."
He knew that as an Amity, who are all about open love, she was not new to that territory. "Please," she said, eyes glinting with that damned mischievous light.
That had been a year ago. Eric smirks to himself as he enters their apartment with a tiny bundle in his hands. It mewls and blinks up at him with adorable wide eyes. He holds it to his chest and strokes its back, earning a purr from its tiny body as he shuts the door and waits on the couch for Greyjoy to get home. A little scare every now and again keeps the Dauntless on their toes. As their leader, Eric just likes making sure that they're always on guard...