A/N: Here's Chapter Two – sorry it took a bit! My perfectionist reared her ugly head and wouldn't budge. I still think June is a little OOC but I'm working on it for future chapters, for now I just want to move on and keep posting.

After this chapter, we're diverging, and I am so so ready myself and I hope you are too!

Thanks for reading and please be sure to review! Let me know your thoughts.

Legend and all its characters belong to Marie Lu – they're just in my playground.


June

Miss Whitaker's glare holds me to my seat even as my brother, Metias, walks in.

"Good afternoon," he greets my dean secretary.

Instantly, her face softens and her lips curve upwards. Metias's long eyelashes certainly do work well for him.

I know he must have just been drilling his unit or patrolling as his uniform is still as glossy as it was when he left this morning. Still, I took him away from his duty, from serving the Republic. For that, I feel guilty, my head tipping the slightest bit forward in a small apology.

I begin to rise from my seat, preparing for my walk of shame. My "little fan club", as Miss Whitaker sarcastically referred to them, has likely been watching this whole exchange.

"Not so fast, Miss Iparis. The headmaster would actually like a word with your brother this time. . . eight times later. . ."

My eyes shoot to Metias in surprise. This is unusual. He, on the other hand, looks unfazed and doesn't meet my eyes. But I see his jaw tighten a little bit, a hand twitches almost like it wants to clench, and he moves his shoulders, pushing them back. Casually, it simply looks like he's stretching, maybe even annoyed to spend more time here. But he's preparing for a fight.

What the hell is going on?

"Junebug, stay right here. This will only take a moment," Metias says to me with a small, almost uneasy smile.

"Your seat, Miss Iparis," Miss Whitaker says curtly, annoyed.

I ignore her. My eyes stay trained on my brother's back, watching him open the heavy 8'8'' by 4' oak door. Most people would look small in comparison, but the relaxed and self-assured posture of a Republic Captain is no match.

"Miss Iparis," she grits out.

I glance at Miss Whitaker. I sit down. Metias knows something I don't. I'm sure of this. I have no other evidence than what could have just been an annoyance, but I'm sure it was more than that. Why else would the headmaster need to speak to him?

I'm mulling all these thoughts over, reevaluating conversations with Metias from the past few days, and internally debating theories when, after six minutes and thirty-seven seconds, the headmaster's door opens yet again.

"June, can you come here a sec?" The headmaster calls for me so casually that it makes me even more suspicious. I had all but forgotten the onlookers until I heard a few gasps from the glass as they watch me move towards the headmaster's office.

As the door to his office closes behind me, I hear Miss Whitaker usher the students out of the hallway, threatening to write them all up too. At least it's not just me.

The office is grand. It is made with an old-world wood known as mahogany. Lamps, made with porcelain and accents of gold, light the room to make it appear warm and cozy, but the red tint of the wood makes everything seem slightly harsher. Bookcases line the walls with a few plush red chairs. I make my way to the wooden chairs with velvet seats in front of the 6' by 3' desk, sitting next to my brother. The headmaster sits in a tall, brown leather chair. The room screams success and calls for respect. I give a small nod in greeting.

The headmaster is tall, maybe 6'4. He looks to be in his late-fifties with his metal limbs and scars, but I estimate he's probably only in his late-forties. That's pretty usual of a retired Republic soldier. The awards in the room signify that he fought in some of the toughest battles as a Sergeant. Retired soldiers always look much older than they are and they retire young. Most of them usually end up in education positions, preparing the next soldiers, like my headmaster.

"Good afternoon, Miss Iparis. It's a shame under these conditions," he pauses to let his disappointment linger. I make sure to be devoid of emotion. "However, hopefully my proposition will incentivize and challenge you to be a better soldier than perhaps Drake could ever groom out of you."

Both the men in the room await my reaction. I don't know how I should respond. Metias now looks more clearly frustrated. His eyes roll, his face is set in a scowl. He's not exactly angry, maybe a bit annoyed. I can read him better than anyone else. Our eyes meet though and his expression softens. He gives me a small and genuine smile, but his lip trembles. He's trusting me. But I think he's also afraid.

"Headmaster, my apologies for my. . . actions. I'm sure you're aware that I may sometimes get carried away with the idea of being a good soldier. A new challenge is intriguing. What's your proposition?"

I hope that didn't come off as an insult.

The headmaster looks sheepish, "Miss Iparis it's actually not my proposition. As I'm sure you're aware, the new Elector has just taken power. This has caused some. . . problems in the capital. Commander Jameson will explain more-"

"Commander Jameson?" I look at Metias. He doesn't meet my eyes.

"Yes, Commander Jameson. She has requested that you be allowed to graduate early and be under her. . . on your brother's unit."

I turn to Metias, "You knew about this."

"Yes. I refused her."

"Why didn't you tell me? You know this is an incredible opportunity for me," I immediately accuse. Metias shoots me a look and I know the answer. Part of my education required me to shadow a military officer. Naturally, I chose to shadow Metias. By the end of the night, we ended up across the country and I had multiple injuries. Metias likely hasn't forgiven himself. I put my hand in his and squeeze. My bad.

The headmaster interrupts our moment. "Commander Jameson is overriding your brother's decision. She would like to hear from you. Now, typically students, especially without their. . . guardian's permission, can't accept legally. You're a different case though, Miss Iparis. As your headmaster, I strongly encourage you to accept the opportunity as I think it would help you grow. I'm just a messenger though. Commander Jameson has requested yours and your brother's presence tonight at a dinner. That is all. You are dismissed."

"Thank you, headmaster," Both Metias and I say as we rise to leave.

We head out to the car, thankfully free from my peers, and get ready to leave. Thomas greets me, polite as ever. He also informs Metias that Commander Jameson has ordered him to be done with his shift for the day. I can't see Metias from my spot in the backseat but I'm sure he's rolling his eyes.

The car ride is quiet while I think about the opportunity I've been given. I know I want it. It's everything I've been preparing for. What's the harm in doing one more thing early? The only thing that holds me back is the knowledge that Metias doesn't want me to.


I'm in my room preparing my outfit for tonight. A dinner with a high-ranking commander certainly demands preparation. I've chosen a dusty purple, pleated halter top dress with a polyester fabric and open back. I paired it with some tear-drop, sterling silver moonstone earrings and necklace that Metias got for me a couple of years ago.

It's been about sixty-three minutes since we got home, making it about ninety-four minutes since Metias and I last spoke. Finally, a quiet knock comes.

"Junebug?" I smile at his voice. I open the door, still fidgeting with the necklace. Metias leans against the doorway and gives me a sad smile. He knows me well enough. Knows what I want to pick. But I want his blessing.

"Turn around," he tells me as I'm still fidgeting with the clasp. He gets it clasped and slowly turns me so I'm back facing him. "You are growing up too fast. Literally. You're one of a kind, Junebug. And you look absolutely breathtaking."

I smile at my brother. I think it wavers. "Metias, why didn't you tell me?"

"Let's sit down. There's more you don't know. And you need to know it before you can make this decision."

I follow him to my bed. Since when does Metias keep secrets?

"I didn't want to keep this from you, but I've been trying to figure out what to do with the information myself, June. Before I say anything else though, I want to tell you the conclusion I've come to. If you want to do something, I will. But I want us to do it from inside the system. Okay?"

Metias waits for my response. I nod slowly, needing to hear more. Metias takes a deep breath and begins to tell me everything. Mom, Dad, the experiments, the Republic's hand in their death. By the end of it, I'm glad Metias caught me before I put any makeup on. There's so much to process, but right now, I have my brother.

"I can't believe you've carried this information all by yourself for so long," I breathe into his chest. He chuckles.

"I've wanted to tell you, but I've been so scared. Scared that you would get hurt, that I would get found out. And Thomas, he did find out. I didn't tell him everything, but he knows I hacked into the deceased civilians database. But I realized that if something did happen to me and you didn't know why. . . I couldn't just leave you. I couldn't leave you to serve a country that wasn't honest, that left you alone. And then Commander Jameson told me she wanted you. It made me sick at first. I knew you'd say yes. I couldn't let you without knowing.

"But June, listen to me. There's other things going on too. It's not safe. There's unrest with the new Elector both with the public and his inner circles. In the capital, riots have started. The Patriots are planning something. There's rumors of executions of senators and military officials. It's not a safe time.

"However, I've heard rumors that the new Elector wants change. He doesn't agree with certain policies. I . . . I am cautiously holding out hope. I think we can make an impact if we stay loyal. And I know, I know that's a lot to ask since you just found out that this country killed your parents. But, I don't know Junebug. . . This is our home."

"Metias, I've dedicated my life to this country. . . I'm not ready to give up on it. I'll be honest, I don't really know what to think of everything you just said, I have a lot of emotions surrounding it, but I trust you. You're my brother. If we're in this together, then I'm in."

Metias just smiles at me. I know he's proud. This must be so much harder on him than it is on me though. He knew our parents so much better than me. I don't know how he always manages to overcome.

He is my light.


Everything about Commander Jameson draws me to her. Her unflinching personality has made her a Republic legend, and I want that.

"Hello, June. It's so nice to see you. You look lovely," Commander Jameson greets me. Despite the kind words, the words seem to be flat. I know they're genuine though from the small smile that just barely touches her lips.

"Likewise, Commander. It's an honor."

"Come sit with me. I got us a table." I can tell there's tension between her and Metias by their lack of greeting. Metias must have put up a hell of a fight.

The restaurant is elegant; the dinner an elaborate affair. I think this is what it feels like to be courted. The people around us wear floor-length, fluffy dresses. Their hair is done in intricate braids and buns. I feel undressed in my ankle-length dress and high ponytail.

We go through the first part of dinner easily. I usually hate small talk, but I've looked up to Commander Jameson pretty much as soon as Metias got on her patrol. Even though I am angry with the Republic, I still feel the familial tug of loyalty and respect.

When the food comes, there is hardly any speaking at all. The meal is absolutely divine. This is absolutely a recruiting mission I realize.

"June, I'm sure Metias and the headmaster gave you a thorough," she gives Metias a pointed look here. He shrugs. She continues, "overview of what we're dealing with."

Metias clarifies, "She knows that there are revolts from the public, distrust in the inner circles, and that the Patriots are likely planning something. I think she would benefit from hearing a little more though."

Jameson nods. "Well, where to begin? The public recognizes that our nation is weak right now. They're taking advantage of it and word is spreading. The revolts are moving from the capital to other cities like Las Vegas and San Francisco. We don't think it'll be long now until they occur here as well. We're going to need back up to help control it. But, we also might be losing some of our best officers."

She mouth moves into a firm line and her eyes stare straight ahead. It's chilling. "It seems that the new Elector doesn't trust the old guard. He feels that some are. . . treasonous. Sometimes the most casualties in a war, June, are the ones that new power demands."

Her eyes rest on me and the smile she gives me looks more like a snarl. "Anyways, I have a feeling I'll be needing some fresh blood. Of course, we've had our eye on you for a while. You know June I think you and I are alike. I want to mentor you, to challenge you. Join me and you'll be unstoppable. There are big things planned."

The snarl never fades. For a brief moment, I'm not sure being alike is a compliment. But Metias is next to me and I remember I'm not doing this for the challenge anymore. I'm doing this to better the Republic.

"What about the Patriots?" I ask.

"Oh, that. We just have some intelligence that they're likely going to be launching some more attacks throughout the nation. Attempt to capitalize on this moment of weakness. It's pretty predictable. Nothing to be too concerned with."

I nod. My eyes stay trained on her. Every moment from here is going to be an act. Every praise, salute, and pledge will all be an act to disrupt and change. The next words are just as much a promise to myself as they are to Commander Jameson.

"Let's do this."


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I think I'm gonna write a smut next - maybe a one shot, maybe a series - we'll see, but keep an eye out if you're interested in that!