"Faction before blood." These are the moments when her past seems to be a tangible thing, laying around somewhere just beyond her reach. Canon divergence, no war.
Some liberties taken with the plot. I own nothing.
"It seems only yesterday I used to believe
there was nothing under my skin but light.
If you cut me I could shine."
"Have you figured it out yet?" Christina asks. "Come on. You can choose anything."
Tris sighs, and the brunette's eyes soften at the weary bags under Tris's. "Tris, are you okay?"
"Yeah," Tris smiles. "I'm fine."
"You're a terrible liar."
She pinches the bridge of her nose. "I'm fine, Christina. I just have some stuff to think about, that's all."
Her friend purses her lips before nodding slowly. "Alright. If you need anyone to talk to..."
"I know," Tris's laughs. "I won't try and be selfless."
Have you ever, really?
The thought hits her like a punch to the gut because no, she hasn't.
Her smile falters and her laughter fades as Christina closes the door with a click, leaving her alone with her thoughts.
Tris is happy with her new life as a member of Dauntless, is thrilled with the thoughts of being brave, of being able to do anything, hasn't even spared her old life a second thought (a lie, but she has never claimed to be truthful) -
But there are times when she has enough time on her hands to reminisce, to replay every single day of her former life; on darker days when she struggles to remember the layout of her old room and her heart is laden with guilt... These are the moments when her past seems to be a tangible thing, laying around somewhere just beyond her reach.
"I'm happy here," Tris declares almost woodenly, her words a stilted goodbye.
I. Childhood
There is not much to say about young Beatrice Prior - she is the daughter of Andrew and Natalie Prior, the younger sister of Caleb Prior, and they are an Abnegation family and they are selfless.
(She has never been selfless, has never tried hard enough to be selfless -
They do not tell her this, but she knows. Her path has been set in stone, as firm and solid as the simple grey houses of the faction.)
They are what you would expect of an average family.
They are kind, polite, and courteous. They are just as generous as their neighbors, and theirs as generous as the others and so on. They give and give and barely keep anything for themselves; they hold powerful positions in government but do not abuse this power, and they always, always give.
Beatrice tries - she really does. She puts her whole heart into helping others and giving away everything that is hers. She doesn't complain when people lose her pencils and erasers because she has many more to give away.
She gives and gives and expects nothing in return.
(This is a lie. All she wants is a sign - a sign that she has made a difference, that she is more than just a tool waiting to be used.
But that would make her selfish, so she quickly throws that thought away.)
When she is eight, she begins to take an interest in the history of literature.
The poems describe love and loss and sadness. The stories speak of heroic deeds and actions; they speak of adventure and danger. The novels describe morality and the difference between good and bad.
[Beatrice wonders why her mom doesn't seem to love her father as her books say they should. She wonders why they always hold hands under the table and never in public; in all her books of poetry and literature it says that affection brings people together, that a hug is to show love and gratefulness.
She dreams of a world of exciting quests and adventure, of a world where she could be a hero -
and one glance from Caleb is enough to rid her of her delusions.]
She's not sure when the hatred starts.
It comes and goes with the wind like summer turns to fall. It springs up on her worst and most confusing days -
Caleb sends her a look as they step onto the bus, and she nods stiffly in his direction.
I know I can't sit on the seats because they're for other people, Beatrice wants to say. You've told me a million times.
She holds her tongue, though, as is expected of her.
Many things are expected of her - as the daughter of Natalie Prior, she must be completely and utterly selfless. As the daughter of Andrew Prior, she must fervently hate the Erudite (which, really, isn't all that difficult) and as the sister of Caleb Prior, she must not sit down on the chairs of the buses, even when they're the only ones on it and all of the seats are empty. As the sister of Caleb Prior, she isn't allowed to even sit on the back seats.
As a member of Abnegation, she shouldn't complain about her life or the people within it.
(This is the mantra she repeats in her head to dispel the thoughts of a life without the 'perfect' Caleb Prior as her brother.)
II. Sixteen
The life of an Abnegation citizen is beautiful. Here she is a part of a community of people who genuinely want to do good, people who just want to help others -
Beatrice thinks of people picking up after dinner parties without others asking, thinks of strangers carrying another's groceries, of people giving up their food for the factionless and smiles happily, content to be surrounded by such amazing people. And then, then she tries to summon that same genuine feeling when she does these things, and finds that she cannot.
How could she possibly be meant for Abnegation when everything that she is demands for freedom?
How could she possibly stay in Abnegation if it meant being something she isn't?
(How can I belong here if leaving is even a choice?)
She walks her way home knowing who, what she is, and it is a dreadful and liberating thing that threatens to swallow her whole.
(She's not sure what it all means. All she knows is that she is different, that she is not what others think she is, and perhaps she is more important than anyone has ever assumed. Maybe - maybe she is important, and somewhere far away her destiny awaits...)
Beatrice ignores it, stuffs it into the back of her mind, and resigns herself to living a life that was never meant to be hers, never should have been hers - because could she really choose freedom when it would mean losing her family?
As a... as a divergent, could she ever really be free?
Her parents have been more lenient than they should have been with her. She should've listened to Caleb more. Maybe... maybe if she had practiced giving more, if she'd just tried a little harder, if she'd put in a little extra effort -
If she'd put in a little extra effort, then she wouldn't be who she is. But did people really care about that at all? Did she even matter to other people besides being a statistic, being one less traitor? Another person to showcase how great their lifestyle is?
Beatrice shakes those disturbing thoughts out of her mind quickly as she nears the area of the factionless.
"Could you spare any food, perhaps?" a young lady asks her. The girl is blonde, like her, and seems to be around her age.
"Of course," Beatrice responds with an easy smile, as if she genuinely loved to share. She grabs a packet of apple slices and hands it to the girl and keeps walking.
That could've been me, she thinks. If I choose Abnegation and I'm not good enough...
Caleb's words are chilling, haunting her the night after the aptitude test.
"We must think of our family. But we must also think of ourselves."
There is something about his words, the edge in his voice as he says this, the resigned glint in his eyes -
[Beatrice does not know this yet, but Caleb's words mark the beginning of the end.]
At the Choosing Ceremony, she doesn't think.
Not when Caleb leaves for Erudite, and definitely not when she too leaves her family, betrayal weighing down their hearts.
III. Dauntless
"Faction before blood."
Everything changes in the blink of an eye.
Her choice changes every aspect of her life - she probably should have expected it, for they have been telling her this for years - but she never expected it to change how she sees herself and everyone else.
'I am no longer Beatrice Prior,' she thinks. 'I'm Tris now.'
And it's true - Tris is more of an Abnegation than Beatrice could ever hope to be; she can't even look at people kiss without having to look away, and she finds herself being more selfless than Beatrice has ever been.
[Once upon a time a young girl named Beatrice Prior longed for freedom and adventure. Now she has it, has even renamed herself, and has found that her desire for adventure has all but gone, has eroded with time - leaving behind only the painful memories of a broken family from millenniums ago.]
'Faction before blood,' she thinks, and wonders how she had ever come to believe it.
Despite her realizations, Tris approaches initiation with the spirit of a true Dauntless.
Her instructor is slightly intimidating, though, with Prussian blue eyes and a quiet voice laced with authority. It's his quietness that unnerves her and makes her nervous around him; she never knows if he's about to sneak up on her and correct her stance. His name is shrouded in mystery - he refers to himself simply as 'Four'. His manner sends red alarms off in her head, warning her to stay away from him because he is dangerous, is a predator in disguise.
(It has nothing to do with her curious inability to breathe around him. It has nothing to do with the intense way he looks at her and it has absolutely nothing to do with how handsome he is.)
Tris puts in all her effort to do the best she can in training, tries to emulate Four's stance as he shoots another bullet into the dead center of the target. She desperately pushes away thoughts of how her parents would disapprove of any thoughts of shooting people, much less wielding a weapon like some reckless idiot and tries to convince herself that she is happy, that she is at peace.
[She's not, but then again she was never meant for Candor.]
She regains a spark of that life, of that feeling of sweet, sweet freedom as she climbs the Ferris Wheel with Four on her heels.
The wind billows against her and she wants to throw her head back to let out a yell of glee, but she is on a mission and so she settles for a quiet satisfaction that only accentuates the exhilaration of being up so high.
Four doesn't share in her views, which surprises her. He always seemed like the type to... well, the type to not be afraid of anything. His fear of heights somehow makes him seem less surreal and more human. Tris finds that thought oddly comforting, but decides not to question it.
"Over there," she says, lifting her chin to point in the direction of the other team. "See the flag?"
"Hm," Four replies, looking at the area surrounded by trees. "A good place, but not good enough."
"They didn't think we'd do this," Tris shrugs with a small smile. "Oh, well. Can't believe they're not split up, though."
He smirks then, and Tris's gaze isn't drawn to his lips. Her heart doesn't skip a beat.
It's foolish and she knows it. It's just a passing fancy, just a stupid little crush that she should get over before it becomes hazardous and completely ruins her chances at becoming an official member of Dauntless.
"It was to be expected," Four says after a moment of silence. "Come on. We have a flag to capture."
They climb down quickly, and when they get to the ground she is laughing for no reason but he is too, and when Christina takes the flag for herself Tris tries not to feel betrayed. Instead, she focuses on the feeling of belonging and finally believes that maybe, just maybe, she might just belong here after all.
The invisible blood on her hands haunts her.
What she has done is wrong. Tris knows this, feels it in her heart as she desperately scrubs at her hands.
Tris thinks about beating Molly up, thinks about her parents' disapproval -
She brushes it aside with a disturbing amount of difficulty and tries not to remember Four's wide, alarmed eyes, like he's afraid that she's turning into a monster. And perhaps she is; she certainly doesn't feel like some hero. She doesn't feel an ounce of bravery in her bones.
When she searches herself, her soul, she finds only the last shreds of a sheltered little girl and the beginnings of a demon ready to consume them.
Visiting Day comes and goes, with her mother warning her about keeping a low profile because of what she is.
Her father doesn't even show up.
Stage two of initiation begins, and she is more aware than ever of her divergence. Every instinct in her body is telling her to run, run away because though Four seemed to be willing to keep her secret, Tris knew that it was only a matter of time before they'd find her.
Tris doesn't know what they'll do to her, but she's sure that she won't like it. Still, the thought weighs down on her head, and Tris resolves to talk to Tori about it.
"Please help me understand," Tris says quietly. "What does it mean to be... what am I?"
Tori purses her lips. "You are a person who can tell the difference between a simulation and reality. You are a person, who, because you are Dauntless... tends to die."
"What?" Tris is speechless.
"When my brother went through the simulations, he said that they were like a game to him. They were easy. It got to the point where the trainers took a special interest in him... and suddenly, so were the Dauntless leaders. One day, one of them joined the trainers in the simulation room. My brother was found at the bottom of the chasm the next morning."
"N-no, they wouldn't..."
Tori inhales sharply. "Think about it. These are the same people who train you to use guns, teach you to throw knives. They make you fight each other constantly. And then, if you can't do it they make you hang over the chasm. These are the kinds of people that wouldn't hesitate to kill you because they think you are dangerous."
"But... why?"
"I don't know," Tori sighs. "But watch out. Only a few people who know about... your kind... are people who are like you or have seen it second hand, like me; the others are out there searching for some irregularity, just waiting for the moment to kill you. Just like they killed George."
Tris leaves the room with some unsettling thoughts, some of which confuse her to no end.
She wonders about Four's past, which is shrouded in mystery (why does she think of him? why is he on her mind at all?); she ponders her fate, entertains thoughts of becoming factionless. Tris summons Christina's tear-stained face as she tells her that she's leaving, imagines Will's shocked one, thinks about how Peter will react -
No, she decides. Never. If only because of Peter, I will never give up.
Tris rolls her shoulders back sharply and walks back to the dorm.
IV. Tobias
[There is a mysterious boy with dark blue eyes that seems to shine under the moonlight; quiet and contemplative, his eyebrows furrow as he tells her stories about an authoritarian father with his endless facades and veneers, and sighs as he speaks of a silent mother with even more faces.
The girl he speaks to shines as golden and bright as the sun, smiles radiantly at him -
He hides his scars behind an impassive face, she behind a wall of politeness; they are mirrors of their parents with the rest of the world, falling back on the routines they have memorized.
They find themselves again in these moments alone, where they have nothing left to hide from.]
When they go into his fear landscape, Tris isn't sure what to expect. She knows to expect heights, but nothing else comes to mind when she tries to find potential fears. After all, what could the Fearless Four be afraid of?
Bunnies, perhaps, she thinks wryly. Maybe rainbows and sunshine.
What Tris finds there is nothing short of shocking, leaving her in awe and surprised and breathless all at the same time.
(It has nothing to do with her proximity to him. Nothing at all.)
"Marcus..." She says it like a revelation, a puzzle piece clicking into place. And maybe it is. "You're his son. You're Tobias."
He talks about his past like it no longer affects him, as if the shadow over his eyes doesn't exist.
Tris watches as his phantoms are unleashed and he seems to age as his eyes darken, filled with painful memories. He says enough without saying too much, and so she listens for the words that are unspoken.
Why me? she wonders as he laughs bitterly. She is merely another initiate. Why would he choose to confide in her of all people?
But something about his story resonates within her. How much of her own life had been pretending that everything was okay? How many times did she have to force herself to be what her parents and Caleb expected of her? And yet...
Her eyes clear suddenly, filled with sudden understanding. And then Tris looks at Tobias, really looks at him, and it's like she's seeing him for the first time. His determination-laced eyes take on a new meaning, and she marvels at his strength.
When they kiss, the puzzle explodes.
Suddenly she has more questions than answers, wonders at her future; she tries to summon thoughts of becoming factionless again, and finds that her desire to leave has all but gone. She thinks about what-ifs and the strange turn of events that is fate and suddenly, the future is far too close. Suddenly the future is upon her.
Suddenly, she doesn't understand anything.
(Then he kisses her goodnight, and all her doubts vanish for one sweet moment.)
V. Seven
Seven fears, she thinks. And yet -
Yet one of them is him.
Tris has known for a long time that her time in Abnegation had morphed her into what she is today. She had always known that she would always have a trace of Abnegation within her, a lingering reminder of what she has lost; she doesn't expect it to make her wary of that kind of affection, though.
She banishes it from her mind quickly, head focused on making the problem small enough to forget.
"You're afraid of me?"
On his face is an expression of poorly concealed hurt, and it hits her like a punch to the gut.
"No," Tris sighs. "Not... not of you."
They are silent for a few minutes, and Tris sighs again. "Just... just forget it. It's not a big deal."
He shakes his head and tugs her forward, pulling her into an embrace. "What happened?"
"I always knew that Abnegation made me, well, stiff," Tris responds stonily, before attempting to relax. "I never realized how far that went until today in the fear landscape."
"Hey, this is new to me, too," Tobias murmurs, pulling back to meet her eyes. "I won't push you. Just... don't feel like you have to keep this stuff from me."
Tris smiles then, relieved. "Okay."
And oddly enough, it's as simple as that.
VI. Dauntless (take 2)
First Place is like the final declaration to Tris that yes, she does belong here. Perhaps she has always known. And yet she is uncertain of her future, because the only thing she has learned from her time in Dauntless is how to fight her fears. But is she brave?
Tris does not know what true bravery is. She has passed initiation, has faced all her fears, and she still doesn't understand. What she does understand is selflessness, ironically, and she finds herself wondering whether or not she was even meant for Dauntless in the first place, wonders why she didn't just stay.
Not for the first time that night, she wonders if those two aren't the same thing.
"Your choice?" Eric asks her the morning after the celebration, almost bored.
They are the only ones besides the other Dauntless leaders in the room watching on curiously, waiting for her choice. First place is a pretty big deal, after all. Tris thinks for a while before answering with a certainty that surprises her. "I'd like to be a Dauntless leader in-training. And I'd like to train initiates in my free time."
The Dauntless leaders look among themselves, their gazes contemplative. They examine her file, what is essentially her life after switching factions, and remain silent for a moment. Then they all look up at her one by one and they nod approvingly, some slightly more hesitant than others.
[She feels as though they have announced her doom.]
"Good choice," Eric nods in acknowledgment, blank eyes suddenly sharpening as he scrutinizes her. "Until a replacement is needed, you will be given a position as an ambassador to your old faction."
It is a test to see whether or not she is loyal to Dauntless, Tris realizes as she considers Eric's oddly calculating expression. For once, she believes that she will prove that she is, that she no longer feels tied to her old family - but only because they are still with her.
Tobias was right; bravery and selflessness are very similar. Tris would prove it.
[She ignores the small stab of regret and brushes away the last memories of a distant past.]
VII. Coda
[The truth is always twisted. When Tris becomes a leader of the Dauntless, she does not immediately make reforms. No great change suddenly occurs. Tris barely speaks to her parents, and hears no word from Caleb. Tobias is her only constant; he is there for her as she realizes the futility of forcing change.
Slowly, she becomes what she promised she would not.]
(She looks at one of the Amity transfers as he looks over wistfully at some of the tractors by the fence.
"Faction before blood," Tris warns him quietly.)
"...but now when I fall upon the sidewalks of life,
I skin my knees. I bleed."
- Billy Collins, 'On Turning Ten'