This idea came to me when I was wondering what the children in Abnegation would be like - would they be expected to be completely selfless from the start or would they be like 'normal' children (which can include being loud, hyperactive and attention-seeking)? In Divergent Tris mentions it a bit, but this was just a little idea that popped into my head and I happened to have time to write it ;)

Note: this takes place when Tris (well, Beatrice) is about four. (see what I did there?)

*Disclaimer* I do not own any of Divergent (or Insurgent or Allegiant) or any of the wonderful characters - they all belong to/are the creations of the brilliant Veronica Roth. I do, however, own a copy of Divergent, and am currently waiting (impatiently) for my copies of Insurgent and Allegiant (especially Allegiant as I really need to read it!) to arrive. Also, I would love to have a Four, if the opportunity to procure one were to present itself... :)

Amongst the straight-backed, plainly dressed figures, a little girl fidgeted. It was very subdued - only a little twitch of her small leg where it just about reached the floor and the occasional tap of a finger against the underside of the table - but, as everyone around her was still and composed, engaging in quiet courteous conversation with their neighbours, it was noticeable.

Her mother gently stroked the top of her neat, plain hair. "Sit still, Beatrice," she said gently, "there's no need to draw attention to yourself."

The little girl - Beatrice - sat up straighter and stilled herself - though her toes still wriggled, unseen, in her plain grey pumps.

Later, when all the adults were helping to clear everything away and tidy up, the children found themselves outside, waiting patiently for their parents to take them home. They were calm and quiet, very unlike children in the other factions, who chased each other around (Dauntless) or were constantly asking questions (Erudite).

But then a boy with dark blue eyes gently nudged Beatrice's foot with his own. He was slightly taller - and possibly a few years older - than her, but he'd seen her toes wiggling frantically through the thin fabric of her summer shoes and they looked funny. He actually giggled: a surprised sound that was made much louder by the quiet around him. He clapped a hand over his mouth and the tips of his ears, visible due to his short hair, turned red.

Beatrice looked up at him, a small smile curling the corners of her mouth. She tapped his foot, slightly harder than he'd tapped hers. He elbowed her arm. She squeaked.

The other children had all heard his giggle but most of the younger ones had ignored it and gone back to waiting patiently. The older children, however, were looking disapprovingly on as Beatrice and the boy poked and prodded each other playfully, their smiles widening the whole time. Then the boy began to tickle her (or try to), eliciting a squeal. Beatrice squirmed and batted his hands away. He turned and ran and she followed, both giggling as she chased him up and down the street.

The boy skidded to a halt when a tall figure blocked his way, and Beatrice stumbled into him, unable to slow down quick enough. The figure grabbed the boy firmly by the hand and led him away. All the energy left him and he hanged his head in shame, his dark eyes focusing on the ground.

Beatrice watched for a few seconds before her mother appeared in her field of vision, crouching down to be at eye level with her. "Beatrice," she scolded, though still somehow managing to be gentle, "what have I told you about not making a scene?"

Beatrice just looked at her feet, her toes no longer wriggling. Her mother lifted her up and rested her on her hip.

"We're not Dauntless." she whispered into her hair.

She planted a small kiss on her forehead and smiled sadly down at her, starting the short walk back to their plain, practical home.

Thank you for reading,

xxxx