The Selection trilogy and its characters is the property of the illustrious Kiera Cass.

Ok, so this is my first fanfic ever, and at this point I have no idea what I'm doing so without further ado: The Rebel.

-Maxon-

The sound of screams and gunfire flowed endlessly from behind the sealed door. Soldiers' voices called out orders in an attempt to take the palace back from the rebels.

I sat silently in my corner of our hidden shelter, my mother by my side. Fear showed plainly in her eyes, and yet, she still managed to look regal, and composed. Not far from me my father seethed in the silence, his face obstructed by the shadows. Regardless of the darkness, I knew all too well, what look he wore on his face. His features were marred by a deep scowl; his eyes flashing a warning.

"Maxon," my mother murmured her voice soothingly calm. "Perhaps, you should go see how the girls are faring."

I looked across the cavernous space that served as our refuge, to the far wall, where an ocean of silks and satins greeted me. The girls practically cowered in the corners, their skirts swished loudly on the stone floors. Several of them had their unsteady gazes trained on me.

"Mother, —" I paused, unwilling to leave the relative safety of my corner, though I knew she was right. "I – yes. Yes, I should."

My usual eloquent articulation failing me, I began to walk towards the girls. My hands were shaking as I straightened my clothes.

The click click clicks of my footsteps intermingled with the clamor flowing in from the door.

A tall girl in a light blue gown rushed out to me and fell into my arms. "Oh, Maxon! I'm glad you're safe!"

"Celeste," I said trying to hide my animosity. "How are you?

"I'm wonderful now that you're here," she purred, running her finger tips over my cheeks.

"Lovely," I said flatly, struggling to pry her manicured fingers from my skin.

After my less than enjoyable encounter with Celeste, I walked among the girls trying – and in some cases failing – to ensure their comfort. The girl from Carolina, Samantha, was shivering from a draft that I highly doubted existed outside of her imagination. Though, in spite of my disdain for her fictitious ramblings, I lent her my suit jacket.

I was a hapless castaway in the sea of silks; how I managed to stay composed is a mystery in itself, and by the time I reached Lady Marlee I felt physically exhausted.

This is not to say that I found Marlee to be an exasperating person, it was actually quite the opposite. Unlike most of the other girls, she wasn't attention hungry, or putting on an obvious front. She was humble and kind, and it was quite obvious why she was the public's favorite.

My gaze lingered on her for a moment, perusing her brown eyes and long blonde hair. Then the words Princess Marlee flashed across my mind, and I knew that I'd have to cut this short.

"Marlee?" I approached her slowly, having learned the hard way, just how jumpy the girls could be during attacks.

She was sitting with Lady Elise, trying to console her to no avail. Tears trekked down her cheeks in torrents, leaving her face blotchy and red.

"Maxon…" Marlee murmured almost inaudibly. She wrapped one of her arms around Elise and pulled her closer so that her head rested on her shoulder.

"How is she?" I asked my voice softening at the sound of Elise's now steady breaths.

Marlee's eyes were poised at the ground like she found something particularly interesting about her shoes. "She's shaken up…"

Perhaps Marlee's only fatal flaw was that she, for some unidentifiable reason, seemed to have no interest in talking to me. It proved to be rather infuriating at first, before my mother convinced me that should have patience with her, and that she'd change over time.

I cocked my head, as if to inquire what was wrong. She glanced up at me, through her eyelashes.

Marlee opened her mouth to reply just as the door was unsealed and several soldiers flooded into the room.

One of them materialized right behind me. "Your Highness, the palace is cleared."

I nodded, feeling so tired. All I wanted was to forget my duties for just one night and crawl into bed, like I had when I was a child after a long day of exploring the palace.

Turning to him I knew, that that was exactly what I was going to do. "Officer…um,"

"Woodwork, sir."

"Yes, Officer Woodwork, would you ensure that Lady Marlee and Lady Elise are safely escorted to their respective rooms?"

"Of course, sir."

I flashed a small smile to the girls before slipping out of the space. Outside, the hallway was in disarray. Deep gouges in the walls ruined the gilt damask wallpaper. Glass and parts of ruined furniture littered the floors.

Maids and other staff were already out trying to hurriedly clean the havoc left it the Rebel's wake.

I told myself that when I became king security would be much better, and that I'd fortify the palace until it was impregnable. These words ran through my head over and over again as I carefully picked my way over debris.

I reached the stairs and ascended them at a lethargic pace. My limbs were heavy, and it felt like forever before I reached the third floor. My room wasn't far from here, but after taking a few steps, I was stopped in my tracks.

The siren was going off.

They were back.

On impulse I began to test the walls for hidden doors, before I remembered at the last minute that they were all sealed from the previous attack. Pulling my keys out I fumbled with the nearest door, my hands shook too badly for me to insert it into the slot. I finally managed it only to have the key break off in the lock.

Cursing myself, I backtracked. The sound of feet pounding on the stairs raced against my heartbeat.

I was as good dead.

Unsure of exactly what I was doing, I ran to the service stairs. Any trace of my former exhaustion gone, as I began to go up the only flight of stairs in the palace that led to the roof.

If I messed anything up, please forgive me! I know this is probably terrible.