(Updated: 27.02.2015) - Thanks to my beta Torry-Riddle.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Veronica Roth does.

Chapter 10

Soon I am by myself again, happy that Al went to the cafeteria and I have the time to calm myself down and recover emotionally at least a bit. I go to the tattoo parlor after getting ice for my face and George greets me as I enter. I make my way over the counter he stands at. He sports a broad grin when he sees my face that begins to color in blue and violet hues. I answer with a small smile myself that turns into a grimace. I hear him chuckle and I just shrug. We are Dauntless – we accept wounds, we count on them to teach us something.

"Well, look at you, Tris. Fallen into a paint-pot?" I snort slightly and watch Tori approaching the counter George and I lean against at the moment.

"Cut it, Tori. Fights started today." But I think I didn't need to point that out. It's quite obvious anyway.

"Did you kick some ass?" Tori wiggles her eyebrows, a glint in her eyes that can only be described as eagerness and with a friendly smile around her mouth. A proud smile appears on my face only to vanish a moment later.

"Look at her face, Tori. She got her arse handed to her." George pipes in and I throw him a poisonous glare. Of course he would think that. I don't look like a fighter. He touches his pointer finger between my eyes and says.

"Don't scowl at me, you are as frightening as a white fluffy cloud." Now I really get angry and feel bold.

"Actually, my arse is quite well, thank you very much. But my opponent isn't so lucky, probably still out cold in the infirmary and with quite a few bruises, too." I throw him a challenging glance. I don't think I can take him but a bit of playful banter and a hidden threat don't hurt. Tori laughs at the dumbfounded expression on George's face.

"Well, better don't underestimate her. She looks like she means business and we both know that a child could win against you." George scoffs, shoving Tori lightly and I grin as broad as possible without flinching in pain.

"You know that isn't true at all. If I remember correctly I beat you a few times while we were both initiates." He wiggles his eyebrows at her, his smile mischievous. Tori scoffs.

"As if. And as much as I would like to prove that point, Tris and I have a date. So shut it and do something useful for once in your life." George flips her off and I shake my head at their behavior. If my brother and I will act like that in a few years, too?

Tori leads me behind a screen and asks me to pull off my long-sleeved shirt and open my bra. I am a bit uncomfortable but I trust Tori and she as a tattoo artist has probably seen enough naked woman to think nothing of it. I lay flat on my stomach, my discarded clothes under me, ice pack against my nose.

When the buzzing of the tattoo gun starts I let it calm myself down. Until now I didn't let myself think about the events with Eric – at least not as much as I need to work through it and get at least a small understanding. In all honesty I don't want to think about him or the events, what prompted his behavior and what it meant. I don't want to over-analyse it and come to wrong conclusions. Maybe it is just Dauntless standard to look after initiates that sit on cold floors with a bleeding nose and nearly crying. Or maybe Amar pointed it out and Eric decided to make it his own business. Or maybe he does this for all the initiates that proved they could take a blow and still stand on their own. But then again he didn't go to Edward that had a split lip and looked a bit exhausted after he won against Drew. And he didn't take Christina's face into his strong hands to look if her eye needed treatment in the infirmary after Myra landed a lucky blow to it.

Whatever it was I have no idea. I don't even know how to feel about all of this. Its two days into initiation. I already shot a gun, thinking of the consequences and the responsibility. I learned how to fight in general, took blows and dealt them and won my first fight. I get my back tattooed right now, get to know new people, even making distant friends and I am constantly more stumbling then walking into situation I never had to deal with before. I feel like I fell into the chasm and the water is drowning me with all the things happening around me. I am surprised that so much can happen in two days – it feels more like two weeks to me since my blood sizzled on coal. And seriously all things considered: Eric seems to be not as important or as big as a problem compared to everything else. But he is the most prominent thing in my mind. My thoughts circle around him in a confusing pattern.

As Eric explained the Dauntless initiation to us I was shocked just like the others were. When I think about it now I can see the purpose of such an intense and thorough choosing process. Our whole existence as Dauntless roots in three important tasks: to protect, to be brave, and to be strong. The Leaders couldn't just let anyone pass who missed these primary traits and tendencies. Some are strong but can't think straight in a challenging atmosphere - a serious problem considering that our duty is to be strong where others can't be. Some are intelligent but lack the ability to decide or to even fight when you have to. And I think that it's not like Eric personally wants us to fail. He is strict about these rules and takes the process seriously and for that I can't blame him – Dauntless needs the best of the best. And I can respect him for that as well because if the roles were reversed I would do the same. His ways of approaching it are debatable, though.

In general he seems like a first grade asshole – cruel, distant, and arrogant. He made fun of us, treated us like scum and it seems like he doesn't really care about any of us getting hurt or even killed. I really should hate him or even dislike him. I probably would if he hadn't displayed some kind of nice characteristics – at least towards me. Another thing that doesn't sit right with me but is too complicated to think about without more information. I just know that if I want to figure it out, I eventually have to figure him out in all of his contradicting behavior.

I am not sure if I should divide my energy on another subject, though because training, fighting, shooting, the other initiates and on top of that finding out who I want to be, overcoming my upbringing and past – it isn't a clever decision to load something else on my shoulders. But Eric has picked my interest or at least his controversial behavior did. I am curious what I will find out and hopefully I can find a closure to the subject soon, too. The best way to get some information is probably to ask around I think. Taking the opportunity that presents itself now, I will start here – at some point he had to interact with the people from the parlor.

"Tori?" I ask, my voice low enough that nobody would really hear anything but loud enough that she can still hear me over the buzzing sound of the tattoo gun.

"Hm?"

"I am a bit confused about Eric being a leader... isn't he awfully young for such an important position?" The slight pain from the tattooing needle is gone for a few seconds and I bite my lip. I hope I haven't gone too far by trusting my instinct that Tori preferred coming straight to the point instead of beating around the bush.

"No, not at all. Age doesn't matter here in Dauntless, you know. If you fulfill the criteria it doesn't matter if you are fresh out of initiation or not. Though Eric is indeed the first one to fall into this position at this age." she answers, resuming to draw the intricate pattern I described to her on my skin. I hum and try my luck again:

"Do you know him...? I mean from before he was an initiate?"

"No, he was a transfer... Erudite if I am not mistaken. Good Faction to come from when dealing with all the crap the Leaders have to deal with according to the things I heard." the last part she more or less mumbles to herself.

"And what was he like while he was an initiate?"

"Tris, what's with all the questions?" Tori again pauses on my back and rolls around the table I am laying on, the rolls of her stool squeaking. She gives me a slightly annoyed look and I think there is suspicion there as well.

"Oh, you know... he is a difficult person and my instructor – I guess I am a bit curious, that's all." She raises an eyebrow and I am not sure if she believes me even though I train my face into a harmless mask of slight interest. She sighs and puts her foot down on the pedal that activates the tattoo gun. I think I let it just drop... of course it would seem strange that I ask her about my instructor and a Dauntless leader nonetheless. I let my head fall back again and wait for the session to be over with but to my surprise Tori answers.

"I can still remember when he entered the parlor... I mean, he was an initiate like any other – wanted to prove himself, wanted to find himself and was afraid what would wait for him if he wouldn't last initiation. Normal at this age and in his position. Although ... I think his transition was easier because he just fit in here, you know. As if he was a Dauntless-born. He was really determined."

"Hm." Is all I can reply because my thoughts are back in overdrive. When I look at him I couldn't picture him in anything else then the Dauntless black with the daring tattoos, the piercings and the tapers and I agree with Tori. I don't know how he was before he left knowledge behind for bravery. I don't know if he grew up like me, having this urge to run, go on an adventure and proving himself even as he still was wearing a blue jacket. I just know: I don't know him but I know he belongs here. He is Dauntless.

"All done", Tori exclaims in front of me, taking her foot off the pedal and the buzzing stops. I am back from my thoughts and in the parlor blinking a few times to chase away the last hypothesis I came up with. We switched positions a few times between Tori working and me musing my thoughts about a certain Dauntless Leader.

"Want to see it before I cover it up?" she asks and I nod. I hold my black shirt to my breasts, swinging my legs over the stool I sat on and she shows me to a full length mirror. Black and red ivy branches cover my whole back in an intricate pattern, framing a person in the middle that is just a shadow of a real human. The figure is held down by thorny tendrils, the thing representing a mouth is opened wide in a scream. A smoke like substance escapes the mouth and the words I am not afraid anymore are billowing in it. It looks like the scene from one of the books father had me read when I grew up and I feel pride within me. It's all in the past.

"It's amazing, Tori. Thank you so much." I glance at my shoulders and my collarbone, the ivy spreading there as well quite naturally. Tori watches me, can probably fathom what made me get a tattoo so big and bold first thing entering Dauntless and not even through initiation but until now she never even said a word about it.

"I made something similar but really different a while back." she begins and I tense up a bit. I nod, letting her put Vaseline and bandages on my fresh tattoo before I close my bra and pull on my long-sleeved shirt pushing the sleeves up to my elbow.

"I won't tell anyone, Tris. Just know ... I mean, if you ever want to talk about it or anything for that matter, I am here." I am surprised that she actually said that.

"But you don't know me..." I mumble, feeling ungrateful that I point out something like this before thanking her for her generous offer. Tori frowns for a moment, shrugs and then gives me half a smile.

"I know, but I like you, shorty." I scoff at the nickname, shove her playfully and she laughs.

"Ok. Thanks I guess."

"You are welcome. And put some more ice on that nose of yours." I grin, waving goodbye to her and George and going back to the dorm. There will be more fighting in the afternoon, the morning belonging to gun practice and general exercise to be up to Dauntless standard physically.

It is again late when I reach the door to our dorm and Will and Chris are standing in front of the door, whispering something to each other, sharing flirtatious looks and small touches. I smile to myself.

"Hey you two!" I say calmly as I walk up to them, hands in the pockets. They look up, Will with a gentle smile and Christina looking thoughtful. She says something to her love interest and he leaves us behind. I want to ask what she is up to but Chris just takes my arm and leads me to another tunnel further away from the dorm. She glances around as if to make sure that no one followed us then she pulls me down beside her. I am quite confused what this is all about.

"So, again about Eric..." She starts, trailing off and I groan inwardly. I don't want to talk about that, not if I don't know what his actions even meant and how to feel about it. Chris seems to notice my discomfort but I don't think I can placate her with a small shrug like back in the training room.

"Look, Chris. I don't know what that was about and believe me, I tried every angle to look at it." I say frustrated, running my hand over my scalp, trying to let go of the tension in my shoulders. The visit to the tattoo parlor relaxed me but now that Chris looks at me inquisitive I feel them cramp up again.

"I believe you... but don't you think it is extremely strange... I mean the way he looks at you..."

"He looks at me?" I ask startled interrupting her. I hadn't noticed it and I tell her as much.

"Yeah, Eric watches you. I am surprised you haven't noticed, sometimes he seems to want to burn holes in your back." I shudder slightly, brushing against Chris' arms and she chuckles a bit. Maybe she thinks I am disgusted by her observation. But I am really not – it confuses me, makes me a bit uncomfortable and edgy because it is so difficult to understand his motivation to do the things he does. For a moment I wonder what he sees when he looks at me.

"Just be careful, Tris. I don't think he is a person to be trusted... and though you try everything in your power to not get close to us we are still you friends and you can talk to us." Chris says this so casually as if it is completely normal to avoid people and shutting them out, as if friendship meant nothing more than having a common goal and nothing else. And then I think that maybe being from Candor she understands to some degree that to keep from lying but still hiding truths you have to stay alone and distant yourself. I don't want to lie to the people that so easily took a liking to me, integrating me into their chosen group of friends.

"Thank you. I don't understand what he did back there not to talk about why... but if there is anything I'll tell you, promised." She nods and lets the topic drop easily enough now. We sit in silence for a bit longer, both exhausted physically and mentally. As we make our way back, Chris shoves me playfully and says:

"You know, you should accompany me to the shops tomorrow... getting a few pants and shirts that don't look two times too big on you." I smile at her, looking down at the rolled up legs of my jeans and nod.

"Yeah, I would like that. "She smiles in response, squeezing my hand for a moment and we both slip into the now dark dorm. Chris is a wonderful person, I realize. Determined and strong, but caring as well. I hope that we will stay friends even though the shadow of initiation is looming above us reminding us that maybe at some point it means her and me that we have to become opponents. The thought makes me uncomfortable but I don't want to question myself now, don't want to think about being ruthless or caring or how I would react. All in strides I think, lay down in my cot and am fast asleep.

Two days after my fight Molly is up against Chris. I see Eric shortly as we enter the training room after lunch but try to ignore his presence as best as I can, my curiosity back in full force. He stands opposite of me and doesn't look in my direction. Maybe he regrets what he did the day before yesterday. I shake my head slightly and concentrate not on him but on anything else.

Amar steps up and calls Molly who spots a nasty bruise on her face and Chris into the ring. I know Chris is strong and when I watched her practice she had the techniques down good enough for the third day of training. But I also know how Molly can throw a punch and I am slightly nervous. Not too long after everyone arrived, Eric steps up.

I throw Chris an encouraging smile and she nods. Eric seems impatient, the hand at his side clenching and unclenching. What bothers him? As Chris and Molly enter the ring he speaks up:

"Begin. We don't have all day." His voice is cold and distant. Chris seems to notice that he is on edge and starts to move Molly mirroring her.

They circle each other Chris trying to break through the blocks. She is faster than Molly but it seems Christina can't use that to her advantage. A punch catches her in the face and blood pours from her newly split lip. She uses her forearm to wipe it away and I see that she tries to get the dizziness that overtakes after a punch to the face to shake off. I want to encourage her, want to call out to her because I can see that Molly's defense of her midsection is really weak if at all there and that would be Chris' chance but I keep quiet. Yesterday Edward tried to help Myra being the good boyfriend he seems to be and Eric made him run around the tracks until his legs gave out. Chris is my friend but I won't risk punishment at this stage and I flinch at my selfishness. In all honesty I am just happy that I am not the center of Eric's attention today.

I hear a crunch again. Chris nose is bleeding now as well and she falls over. I see her arms shaking badly as she tries to get up but she isn't fast enough and Molly's foot connects with her rips. I flinch a bit and hope that the bones are still intact otherwise Chris would be as good as Factionless. My clenched hands start to cramp and I try to loosen them a bit, shaking them next to me. Chris is still on her knees and I beg her silently to go unconscious but she grits her teeth, tries to breathe through the onslaught of hits and kicks from Molly and suddenly she screams and yells:

"Stop, please. I'm done." Her left hand is spread out in front of her, her voice strained and Molly takes a step back. I look to Amar and Eric. Eric raises an eyebrow and I just know that that means nothing good.

"You surrender?" he asks and his voice is calm. Chris looks up, her lip bloody, the blood still pouring down her chin and her face is wet from sweat. Chris nods and I know she feels ashamed. Eric nods as well, contemplating and to all of our surprises offers Christina a hand to help her up. She takes it suspiciously.

"Everyone, come with me. Let's take a break!" he calls out and we follow him. The hairs at the back of my neck stand up and I can't help myself but feel nothing good will come of it. We are silent as we follow him and Chris walking next to him, pinching her nose to stop the bleeding. When we are about to cross the bridge over the chasm, Eric's arm around Christina's back, it happens. He suddenly pushes her over the edge, his face calm, holding onto Chris' arm. Her other hand tries to get a grip of the railing and after a second succeeds. I look horrified at the scene, Chris hanging on the railing for dear life and Eric crouched down in front of her. His voice is calm and collected as he begins to talk:

"You have three options now. You hang in there for five minutes and I will forget about your cowardice, let go and die or quit and become factionless." He lets go of her hand in a heartbeat not even batting an eye though the water rushing beneath us is deafening and deadly and he is playing with Christina's life. My stomach is in angry knots and I wonder why he doesn't feel my burning eyes on him because I am sure that he has to feel the heat radiating off of them and my wish for him to suffer. But he just calmly looks at his wristwatch and then lets his gaze wander over us.

"Dauntless NEVER give up.", he says, emphasizing every word and his jaw is working hard. He seems livid that even one of us contemplated giving up and saying so as well. He doesn't smirk, doesn't smile, there is no greedy glint in his eyes and they are dark again – he is agitated and not enjoying himself. I just don't get it. When there is nothing in for him, why does he torture Chris like that?

And then it hits me and I feel numb for a moment. He wants to teach us all a lesson. He could have told Molly to continue, to drive her fists and feet into Chris until she was a bloody mess on the floor of the ring but instead he made us go with him to teach us a lesson we were too blind to see beforehand.

We all know that Dauntless is about bravery; we read about it in the manifesto of the Factions and the Leader's speech at our first evening here is still fresh in our minds. The fights we have to participate in prepare us to act when the need arises but the way they are designed they also teach us to stay strong and brave with a cool head even if we are losing. Giving up even if we are injured or out of breath or a little bloody isn't an option. Not if you fight for dear life. Out there, anyone who is out to kill or injure us, will do it, no matter if we beg for mercy or not. In a situation where it comes down to their lives or ours they would not hesitate to kill us if we surrender or not. I swallow the bile that rises in my throat and look back to Eric and it seems there is something he sees in my eyes because he nods at me just once.

I can't stand to look at him anymore though a mixture of comprehension, fright and rage filling me. So I watch Christina's arms shaking slightly and she tries time and again to get a better grip, her fingers slipping from the wet metal of the bars. Her face is still bloody but scrunched up in concentration and determination. I feel deep admiration for her in that moment.

When Eric calls time I am slightly surprised that Edward helps me when we pull Christina over the edge. She is breathing heavily and her bodyweight presses down on my smaller frame but I want to be strong for us both so I give my best to hold her shivering form up until Will comes forward taking her other arm, his face pale but his eyes burning when he looks to Eric. I look at him as well, with his posture so uncaring and cold, his face bare any emotion and his eyes dark grey.

And even though I know now what he tried to tell us with this little show of cruelty everything I thought about him just vanishes. I don't see the man who holds my grudging respect, who is hard but determined and who has picked my curiosity in a special way. I see a man too cruel to let him overlook initiation. I hate him with a passion in that moment and I am furious with myself because I know that that isn't completely true. I try to push my doubts away and really feel my dislike for him but all I can think is that I am unfair, stubborn and biased because he hurt and humiliated my friend.

We were dismissed after that, everyone to shaken to continue fighting. After taking care of Chris's injuries we sit in the dorm. She is now curled up on her cot, Will's arms protectively around her, and her head on his chest. In that moment she looks like the 16 year old girl she really is and not the determined, strong and passionate nearly grown-up she displayed when she first put on the black clothes of Dauntless. I try to smile at her encouragingly and leave the two of them alone. Some wounds heal better if you are with the one person you care most about.

I am by myself again and though I feel comfortable enough to hang out with Chris, Will and Al I enjoy my alone time. It gives me the silence I need to reflect on myself and the things around me. I stop at the chasm, leaning my back against the railing and my mind replays the incidents not three hours ago. I cross my arms over my chest and huff. No matter how hard I try I don't come up with a way Eric could have taught us this lesson differently. I ask myself if I would have understood what he meant if he simply explained it and I come to the conclusion that no, I wouldn't have understood. Of course the concept would have been clear to us, but it was only after we saw it with our own eyes that we really comprehended it. I wasn't even aware of this lesson in the beginning.

Eric saw his chance when Christina surrendered and he used it. One could argue about the whole pushing an injured person over an edge thing and torturing that person with only really one choice but observing it objectively he probably wouldn't have let her fall. At least I try to tell myself that he knew that Christina would be strong enough to hold on. I sigh because just like that the hate I felt earlier is gone. I may not like his methods but I understand the importance. All of this is quite confusing and instead of more questions I would like to receive some answers soon.

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