Tori and Tris - Chapter Four - Getting what we need
Whilst administering Tris's aptitude test, I had been unable to intervene, but there was definitely something I could do now. At breakfast on Monday, I scan the rows of faces until I find hers and wait around by the slop bins - uggh, the things I do for initiates! I accidentally bump into her, "Hi Tris, I was hoping to run into you, could you come by the shop tonight, I need to check your art?" She looked at me in that peircing way, and finally said "Yeah, sure." I smiled, turned on my heel and put some serious distance between me and that slop bin.
That night, Tris hung around looking at various works while I finished up with a customer, as soon as I could, I took her to the same chair in the back, this time she remembered to remove her clothing and I looked over the work. "This looks really good, healing well, nice choice" I say, applying some oils to aid in the healing process. Knowing she would prefer to be covered, I indicate that I am finished and scoot back on my wheelie work stool. As she threads her arm back into her sleeve, I ask " How's training going?" Tris appears put on the spot, "I'm working really hard," she stammers. "Are you under or over the red line?" I ask directly, watching her closely. "Under." she ducks her head. "You need help," I say not unkindly, it's not a question, and she nods mutely. "When's good for you?"
Tris followed my detailed directions precisely; she arrived on time, tapped out the friendly knock, let herself in quietly and shut the door immediately. No doubt this is a dangerous undertaking, life and death if I am honest. Less so mine - than hers. It's a responsibility I take very seriously. It is blatantly obvious that Eric has taken a serious dislike to Tris and was stacking the deck against her in an attempt to keep her rankings low. The guy is a psychopath, with no honour, and no appreciation for Dauntless tradition. An Erudite transfer lured to Dauntless by a desire for violence and and a lust power, he would consider any assistance as a personal affront, and herein lies the danger. Although confident I can handle Eric, it must be on my own terms. And Tris must be protected.
I know that Tris has an Ace up her sleeve that has the potential to rocket her well up the leaderboard, something that no one knows about, least of all Tris. Of course, Aces are always handy but their real value lies in knowing how and when to play them - luckily for Tris, I know how to play! I have arranged to train her in my studio, where I myself train. The immediate risk is in the two of us being associated together, but once within, we are perfectly safe. I turn the lock and set to play my own training soundtrack and raise the volume. My neighbours are well used to my noise and will suspect nothing.
I begin by stating the immediate problem as I see it; a lack of fitness, strength and hand to hand skill, and outline a possible solution, gaining fitness, strength and skill. Obvious, I know, but taking the role of sort of mentor I feel obliged to impart proficiency in strategy as well as discrete skills. I encourage her to let go of her Abnegation values and embrace her inner Dauntless - she did choose us after all. Time is short and she is sorely in need of leaderboard points, not too many, but enough to keep her off of the bottom. She understands the strategy and commits to our plan. We get to work immediately.
I show Tris a single choreographed basic offensive routine with two alternating footwork patterns and I drill her in first one, then the other, making her do it over and over again. She is a good student. I coach her breathing, core strength and weight distribution and she soaks it all in, she mimics my footwork closely. I know she wants this. Most people would be focussed on memorising the routine as though a perfect rendition would ensure success but Tris understands the transferrable value of controlling her breathing, core strength and weight distribution through the routine. Four was right, she is a pocket rocket, she keeps working and doesn't get frustrated. I know why Eric hates her.
I am careful not to overwork her, or indeed, let her overwork herself, the last thing she needs is an injury. I poured her a tonic to replace her electrolytes, and gave her half of a little something to take back to the dormitory to help her sleep. I am sure she needs it. I caution her to conceal her new skills in practice, to save it for fight club. "Remember, we are short on time and need to apply leaderboard pressure, but strategically." "We?" She shot me a look over her shoulder. I placed my hand on her back, "When I joined Dauntless, Tris, we were a we! You are doing really well, I am proud of you," and sent her home to bed. I showered and hopped into bed myself.
We will have to discuss Tris' Divergent nature before the third phase of training. I am going to have to explain it to her comprehensively, school her to obscure and manage her abilities. She will come to appreciate the associated benefits and dangers of her nature. I decide to hold off - I do not want to over burden her, she has enough on her plate as it is. Besides, phases one, two and three are so labelled for a reason, no need to get ahead of ourselves. I approve of Four's advice to Tris about delivering a quick punch to the throat to incapacitate opponents in Fight Club; I have to find a way to subdue her Abnegation and draw out her Dauntless.
Tris arrived punctually for training every night. We stretched out and warmed up on the mats together, she kept me abreast of what they had done each day and then I drilled her in the routine. It has to become muscle memory, a stance that Tris would find herself unconsciously adopting under the influence of exhaustion, fear, pain or injury. After a rehydration break, I propose a sparring session where the object was for Tris to embody as much of the base routine as she felt appropriate whilst seeking opportunities to punch me in the throat. She could not bring herself to do it, as I knew she could not.
On Thursday, I started the session by turning on a pretty impressive display of my advanced physical abilities; I completed one routine after another demonstrating my fitness, flexibility and stamina through a range of defensive and offensive gymnastic, kickboxing and mixed martial arts maneuvers. Ten minutes of that and even Tris was out of breath! She had backed up well clear of my expanded personal space, mouth open and eyes open even wider. It was not to show off but to convince Tris that I had nothing to fear from her, if I happened to enjoy her obvious appreciation well, consider it an added bonus.
"Wow, that was amazing," said Tris approvingly. "Now, about that punch to the throat," I spoke when I could finally breathe, I chugged some water, "If you can get past my defences, if you can reach my throat and if you could hit me with any degree of force - I would deserve it. Ok?" "Ok," nodded Tris. Of course, she would not be able to raise any level of threat that I could not anticipate and immediately eliminate, but what we have achieved is that Tris has accepted that a punch to the throat was now an viable action.
On Friday after our warm up and routine work, Tris adopted her basic stance and attempted various strategies to come at me again and again. I intervened from time to time to correct her foot work, to point out her tells, to point out mine. I encourage her, praise her thinking, she has a great many personal qualities that are perfectly Dauntless, I had been quite mistaken to suggest Tris remain in Abnegation. As my mind wandered, I over enthusiastically knocked Tris on her ass, much harder than I intended. It was the first time she openly acknowledged pain, wincing as she hauled herself up. "Oh no, you are hurt" I helped her up, annoyed at my own carelessness. Tris denied any pain, shaking her head and sucking in her breath, but knowing better I held her by her upper arms and forced her to acknowledge, "Where?" I asked, peering into her eyes.
She rolled a shoulder and groaned, I turned her around and explored her shoulder - nothing serious thank god. "Shit, Tris, I am so sorry, I wasn't concentrating. Jump in the shower, I have some ointment I can apply that will really help." I went into the ensuite and turned on the shower, silencing the denial I knew was coming, I found some fresh clothes and a towel and steered her toward the bathroom. I turned down the pounding music, made myself busy at the far end of the studio, filling the kettle and listening for the click of the bathroom door.
I pulled on fresh clothes, myself, and prepared some tea. When Tris came out of the bathroom fully dressed, shoes and all, I couldn't help but smile internally at her modesty. I sat on the floor against the foot of my bed and indicated she should take her place between my legs. I gently pulled her top over her head and down her arms a little way so that it would cover her breasts and stomach. I hand her the tea and apply a generous amount of expensive black market ointment across her neck, shoulders and upper back. I massage Tris' neck gently, warming and slowly lengthening the muscles and continued to work over the various knots.
Saturday morning I wake up to a wonderful sunshiney morning, stretching and feeling unusually excellent. It occurs to me that I am fully dressed, including socks and laying on top of the bed covers. That's weird. I suddenly remembered. I sniff cautiously at my fingers yep - ointment. I turn over searching the other side of my bed, sure enough the rather lumpy figure of Tris is curled up under a pile of linen and blankets. I check my watch and smile to myself, feeling very happy and content. I fill the kettle and set it to boil, trying to be quiet.
I fix two strong coffees and leave one on the bedside table for Tris, I take mine over to a well worn recliner facing a large open window. I had slept later than my regular routine but I had also been working harder than normal so… I sipped my coffee and watched the tops of the huge green trees swaying in the breeze, I notice again a rather joyful feeling residing in my chest. Sensing I was no longer alone, I look over my shoulder toward the bed and see Tris sitting with her face in her hands.
"Good morning," I call across the room. Tris peeks out between her fingers like a small child, I don't know why it is so endearing, but it is. I remember that she is only just sixteen, her first week away from home, everything is so new for her. "You ok?" I ask, smiling warmly and sipping from my mug. "I didn't know I fell asleep. Here." "It's ok," I try to reassure her, "How's your shoulder?" Tris rolled her shoulders and a bright smile covered her face - it warmed my heart. "I slept really well, your bed is so comfortable," She began extracting herself from the blankets. How she could sleep with all those clothes on and under that great pile of blankets is beyond me.
Tris brought her mug over to my recliner, I shifted over to one side and patted the arm for her to sit. She perched cautiously on the arm, "I want to thank you, Tori, for coffee, for all the training, the massage last night but most of all for your friendship." I find her quite sweet, I take her hand, give it a gentle squeeze and hold it in mine, "You are very welcome," I rest my head on the recliner and look out the window again, we watch the world beyond in silence for a while and sip our coffees.