A/N- This one's pretty long to make up for how short 38 was! Hope you all enjoy 39, and I'll see you in chapter 40! Bethany x
Chapter 39
Tobias's POV-
"You don't move from this door."
His features pull in as his head starts to shake. A shade or two darker hair than mine starts slipping out of place. "What use will that be? Why doesn't Zeke or Uriah wait outside? I can help, Four-"
"I don't want your help," I answer back harshly, "what I need from you is to make sure no one gets into that room until I get back."
My honesty hits as I watch him flinch ever so slightly. But his eyes narrow quickly, "your Dauntless status doesn't make you the boss of me, Tobias; it never has and it never will."
Agitation creeps up my spine, locking it in place. "You've already placed yourself where you're not wanted, Eric. You either stay in this hallway by your own free will or I'll make sure you're unable to leave."
It's a mean warning, but if it pushes him to stay out of greater harm's way, then I'll more than happily fulfil it.
"You're threatening me?" He asks incredulously. "I think you forget the order of things, little brother."
I laugh sharply, "god, Eric, I've never been you 'little' anything. You've been stuck in that 14 year olds mind for the past 6 years whilst the rest of us have outgrown you. Anything you could think to say to me will forever be overshadowed by that." I shift, beginning to walk away from him, towards the ballroom. "Why don't you take this time to reflect on your teenage years."
I keep walking, my back staying solidly to him. "You're a fucking cunt, Tobias."
And I don't stop, don't even hesitate my steps as I push open the doors to the ballroom. He can hate me all he wants, but there's no way I'm letting him dig himself deeper into this mess.
…
The ballroom, on the surface, seems to have gone back to normal. No one takes much notice of me as I walk down the few steps, not even as I push through the crowd. I catch glimpses of conversations, but the remarks of a bejewelled dress is quickly laughed off, talking about impressive fakes.
The comments make me think Arthur has stayed absent since Marcus whisked him away.
When I finally make it to the small lounge area, stuffed comfortably between the side of the stairs and the ornate wall, I find it empty of either men.
Annoyance growing, I turn around, looking in the last place I can think of.
Pushing open the doors to the outside, I take in a breath of salty air. My eyes move to the waves crashing against the white sanded beach, and my body itches to descend the path.
But want is a luxury I don't have, and when I look around the patio, I also find it empty of both Arthur and Marcus.
Instead, I find myself at the attention of Tris's adoptive family.
Queen Melanie catches me first, and she's up in a heartbeat. Xavier is on her heels, and within no time, I've got the two standing before me.
"What the hell just happened?" Xavier pushes, concern and anger battling each other, "why is she wearing sapphires? And where the hell did you take her?"
Already in a fastly growing bad mood, I go to hit back. But then I watch as Tris's mother places a hand on Xavier's back, a gentle gesture for her youngest son. And when I look into her eyes, I see fear for her only daughter.
I take a breath in, knowing Xavier's anger isn't really directed at me, not for this situation at least. "I don't know how much you all know-"
"Hardly anything!" He cuts in, and the restraint I just found is on the brink of exploding on Tris's ex-whatever. "Bea didn't go into much detail at all when we talked, and she sure as hell didn't mention a dress made of out illegal stones!"
"Xav," his mother says quickly, softly, "go sit down, let me talk to Four."
He shakes his head, disbelief racking his body, "no way am I sitting back down. I want to know what's going on."
Xavier's need to be clued in on the situation is the least of my worries at the moment, and knowing that helps me rein in my temper. "We didn't know about the sapphires either-" I backtrack, after the queen's brows raise, "what I mean is we didn't know what Arthur planned to do with the sapphires."
Queen Melanie nods, and I start to wonder how much Tris told her. Whilst we rested Snow at the stream, she had talked about speaking to her mother just hours before, up on her balcony without the boys there. If she did indulge her mother with the details, I question if the queen had the time to inform the rest of her family before the ball.
And I don't know how much I should say. By now, the rest of Athua's royal family have joined us. Caleb comes to stand by his mother's side, clasping her hand. Tris's dad, King Sebastian, shadows the queen as they all await my explanation.
An odd feeling overcomes me as my eyes flicker from one person to the next. It's a feeling I can't name, one that seems as alien to me as Dauntless cake without frosting. My words stick to my tongue, my mouth soundlessly opening.
Realisation that I'm experiencing some sort of stage fright hits me. An unwelcome warmth moves up my neck as my fingers push back the locks of hair covering my view. I almost laugh at the absurdity, but the notion that this is Tris's family keeps the nervous laughter at bay. These are the people whose opinion really matters to her- and I know I've already made a bad impression to one. Who knows what Xavier's said to the others? My eyes land on her Dad. Tall, muscular, brows lowered over stone eyes. My lips part, needing to say something- anything, but my mind blankens.
They all stare at me, and I- I don't know what to do. I've never felt like this, not even as a child.
And just as I think the awkward tension in the air is about to split in half and swallow me whole, a high pitched voice exclaims from behind me.
"Four?"
Still watching the family, I see their expressions change before I even get a look at her. Eagerness turns into reluctance, worry turning into disdain.
I turn slowly, having hoped life would have left us on those parallel lines.
But there she is, dark hair curled, warm brown eyes wide. Her white dress drags across the stone as she begins moving forward, her speed increasing as we make eye contact.
And then she's wrapping herself around my torso, squeezing hard as she presses herself as close as possible.
I stand there, frozen. My arms hang limply at my side as Nita begins mumbling against my shirt. But I can't concentrate. The feel of her, whilst never having felt right, hasn't ever felt this wrong.
Grasping hold of her upper arms, I push her away. She reluctantly moves as I hold her at arm's length. Tears swim in her eyes as she looks up at me, and guilt rears its ugly head.
She lets out a wet laugh, removing her arms from my grip as she wipes her eyes. "I'm sorry, I don't know why I'm crying all of a sudden." She smiles, but it's wobbly, "it's just- I've been looking for you since I came back- and now you're here-"
"Nita," I say, causing her to quiet. Large, hopeful eyes meet mine, eyes waiting for a response- ones that have been waiting for an answer most of her life. "This needs to happen later," I keep my voice down, watching as her expression becomes wounded. "I'll find you when I can, but it's not going to be to-"
And then it seems her wound has quickly festered, turning into an infected mess. "You've been MIA all day, Four! I've wasted my time pathetically searching for you- and now you're in front of me, and you don't want to take 5 minutes out of your importantly busy evening to indulge me?" She scoffs, shaking her dark head, "don't you hear how absolutely self centred you sound?"
My jaw drops, leaving my lips parted. Did she just call me self centred? But I'm able to compose myself quickly, "that's a tad ironic, coming from the one person who embodies the word."
She takes a step back, and I welcome the distance. "There you go again, making me the villain." She wipes the leftover tears off of her face harshly, "all I want is clarity, just some ending! I want to talk, and I want to talk now."
I've always known she's hoped that something was going to happen between the two of us, that the crown dangling above my head may have tipped the scale. But all we do is clash- the way our personalities hit at each other would have never turned into anything softer. We'd always be bitter towards the other, and she has to have known that. It would have never mattered who she dreamed me up to be, or the face I hold- at the end of the day it would have ended in a blood bath.
"If you want to talk properly," I start again, holding my ground, "you'll have to wait. I've got bigger problems to deal with than your hurt feelings."
Narrowing eyes meet mine, but I'm moving past her before she hits back. I push Athua's headstrong family out of my mind, shouldering open the doors back inside, letting them slam behind me.
Trying to get back in the zone of finding Arthur, I scan the room one last time. And when I come back empty handed, once again, I know they've left the premises.
"Arthur's office or Marcus's?" I mutter to myself as I push through the crowd. Out of his pure arrogance, I head towards Arthur's.
With the clock probably hitting 10 o'clock, the live music kicks in. Violinists start the piece to my left, which levels up the mood of the room. By the time I make it to the exit, dancing has picked up, and I'm pretty sure if I was to try and navigate the space now, I would be left with a few bruises.
I take the stairs two at a time, pushing through the heavily guarded doors without thought. But just as I round the frame, my arm is tugged back harshly.
I whip around, coming face to face with no other than Athua's Dauntless prince.
A few inches shorter than me has his head bending back, dark brown eyes grasping onto mine.
My brows raise, "you good?"
He takes one step back, arms crossing his chest. "Thought I'd join you."
I laugh, shaking my head as I turn my back to him. But as I begin to walk down the corridor, I hear the prince's footsteps closing in.
Turning sharply, I stop him in his footsteps. "Look, kid-"
"Don't 'kid', me, Four." He laughs venomously, "I can't see you calling her that as you shove your tongue down her throat."
If I had time, I'd happily show him how I would never call Tris a kid. But with her passed out a hundred or so metres away, and the journal rubbing against the blisters piercing my skin, I just smile.
"Jealousy will do nothing for you, Xavier." Pointing behind him, I say, "you're better off going back to your family, where you won't waste anymore of my time."
His resistance is beyond agitating, and when I don't see his feet move, I swallow the words on my tongue and continue towards Arthur's office.
The sound of only our footsteps lasts longer than I had expected. We round the corner of the hall, travelling up the lamp lit stairs. He follows like Tris's dog Ari, sticking to my heels like I'm grasping onto his favourite treat.
When we come to the upper landing, I pause. He hits into my back, expectantly. I twist around, readjusting the journal under my arm, where Tris's jewelled dress went untouched.
I go to shoo him away, again, but he beats me to it. "Whatever concerns Tris, concerns me."
I shake my head, "no, that's where you're wrong." I take a step forward and I can visibly see his body tense. "Maybe that's how it used to be, but that isn't how it works anymore." I stare into his eyes, becoming exhausted with the younger prince. "This isn't a competition, one where we fight over who cares for the Princess better. All you're doing is showing her you don't think before you react, that you're a flight risk, someone who doesn't value their life." His eyes widen slightly, so little that if I were maybe a foot or so further away, I wouldn't have noticed. "You of all people should know that there's more to being Dauntless than shoving yourself into dangerous situations unnecessarily."
"But it's fine when you do it?" He wines back. I stare at him in wonder, wondering, myself, if this is how I was acting when I was 16.
"This is my country, Xavier, not yours. This doesn't involve you."
He scoffs, "but you don't mind involving Bea, do you?"
I breathe through, harshly, "if we both had the choice, we'd be down in that ballroom, enjoying her welcoming ball. If the situation was perfect, you wouldn't be here." I mean to say none of the royals would be here, but I don't correct myself. His brows pull in defensively, but I don't let him linger, "if you want to be of some use, go stand guard outside of the meeting room Tris is in. Maybe when she wakes, she can tell you all about our problems."
His eyes flicker, weighing up his choices. For the first time, his gaze lands on the book tucked firmly under my arm.
"Where is she?"
Tris's POV,
A buzzing sensation consumes me as a thousand bees flutter under my skin, whispering to each other as my eyes blink.
Dim light greets me. The early morning fog surrounds the old pine tree trunks, swirling eerily across the floor.
Walking through the fog, I feel the damp air hit the bottom of my bare legs. My dainty blue dress hangs limply off of my body as I move forward, watching the lake come into view.
I'm at the edge of the water, crouching down and dipping my hand in. Warmth welcomes me in as I look out, watching the light blue surface reflect the daylit sky.
Taking in a deep breath of the fresh air, I come to sit down. A lightness fills me as I listen to the birds chirp, watching the trees blow in the soft wind.
"It gets lonely out here." They say.
I turned my head, confusion clouding my mind, "then why do you stay?"
They look at me, a beat of silence overcoming the world. "Your people will not welcome what scares them."
My brows crease, "I am not scared of you."
"You are different." They look out to the lake, "but so is she."
I follow his gaze. Sitting on the east side of the lake is a young girl. Dark curly hair flows past her shoulders as her hand reaches out to touch a small duckling swimming on the surface.
A weary lilt overcases them, "the balance is fading. Our power is no longer safe in the hands we have left it in."
I only look at the girl for a second longer, watching as the duckling turns away, back to its family. My hands tingle, a bee perched on my fingertips. I lift my hand, watching the creature. "If it belongs to you, you should take it back."
I see them nod in my peripheral. "I think she will help with that, without even knowing it."
My shoulders loosen, a smile gracing my lips. "She will need my help, then?"
"Help her as you must, even if it feels wrong." They stand, but I stay seated. "As you speak to me, you speak to us both. Them and I are one of the same, one whole split into two halves."
I nod, watching the bee crawl up my arm. "Will I see you soon?"
Their light begins to fade as I give them my full attention. A being made of the most beautiful sun, a being made of the darkest of nights. "I will see you soon."
They leave, but I stay. My eyes find hers again, and see she is already looking at me. She's still, her innocence keeping her in place.
I open my mouth, about to beckon her forward. But the wave gets to her first, pulling her back into the lake. I see the water rear back, and wait for it to come again.
Watching as the water lifts, pulling itself up and up, until it's towering over me. Then, all at once, it drops.
Tobias's POV
"I always knew you had more aptitude for Erudite than you were letting on, boy."
Arthur clasps me on the shoulder, smiling brightly. I give him a curt nod back, my attention staying back to the girls in the corner.
Marlene bites on her nails anxiously whilst Christina holds her arms definitely over her dress. I know by her stance that she doesn't condone this plan of action.
Removing his hand, Arthur turns his back to me, stepping over my fathers limp body. He sighs, shaking his head, "if only my dear brother could have seen as much sense as you have." He leans against the desk, opening up the journal, "maybe he wouldn't be in such a predicament.
With no guards in the office, the King was at the mercy of only his brother. "He will learn of his mistake when he wakes," I say tightly, trying to keep Marcus's lump of a body out of my sight. I wasn't here when it happened, but by the looks of his moving belly, he's just unconscious.
Arthur chuckles, skimming through the pages, "that he will." His left hand lifts, clicking twice at Mar and Christina. "You two may leave now."
I watch as they both hover for a moment,waiting on me. I knock my head towards the door, wanting them as far away from Arthur as I can possibly get them.
Without another word, they move out. But as Marlene passes me, I say quietly, "third meeting room." Her brows pull together as she watches the floor, trying to figure out what that means. I don't doubt she'll understand, but the door closes behind them before I'm able to see it happen.
"So," Arthur says, holding the book to his chest, "the Princess did not want to witness her downfall?" He grins as the words tumble out of her mouth. "I got a glimpse of her figuring out there was no way around this, that there was no other maniacal plan of hers to get the girls and keep the journal."
I stay silent, not trusting my words. Arthur makes use of the still air, "she, too, is quite bright. I find it hard to imagine she is worthy of any of your brother's affection."
"She is not interested in my brother's affection."
He laughs, pushing off of his dark desk, "I, too, have come to that conclusion." He takes a step closer, his large body blocking out the full moonlight. "But you know she cannot choose you, that I cannot allow that."
I don't allow the increased beat of my heart to show on my face. "And how are you going to enforce that?"
His thin lips pull up, the corners wrinkling with timeless scowls. "You five will no longer be of my concern by the end of tonight." He looks casually at his watch. "Look at that," he says, lifeless eyes boring into mine, "11 o'clock. Perfect timing to get this show on the road."
He moves through the door, and two guards replace him. Big and bulky, two people who were bound for Erudite. The people of Dauntless do not need to flaunt their strength to know they hone it.
I find my feet moving backwards, but I'm stopping as I hit my heels on something warm and soft. The men take my lack of attention in their stride, mirroring each other as they both harshly grab my upper arms. Then, in unison, they use their free palms to wrap them around my lower.
I clench my jaw hard as they pull me out of the room, feeling the welts open back up.
When in the wide hallway, we stop just in front of Arthur. His eyes focus on the blood now dripping down my arms like a shark in water. "The jewels or the Princess?" He mumbles, stepping closer. One finger drags up my arm, catching the blood. The pressure on my already burning skin feels like someone pouring alcohol on a fresh wound. Wonderment fills his body as he looks back up to me, waiting for a response.
"The dress," I force out, breathing in sharply as the right guard adjusts his hold.
"So what of her body?" He muses, his clean pointer finger tapping on his lips. I stay silent.
He shrugs, "no worries, Tobias, I will find out when the night is over. When the crown is mine."
The weight of what he's just implied hits me like a ton of bricks. I pull on the guards hold helplessly, "if you even think you'll be laying one finger on her-"
He chuckles, "oh, it'll be more than one finger, boy."
A fury like no other buzzes through my body, settling just behind my eyes. Red encases my vision, blood red dripping down his fragile head. With the strength of both men combined, I yank myself free. His widening eyes and slippery feet move with my own, but no joy comes from his fear. The only thing I can think about is the way he so effortlessly talks about putting his disgusting, grimy hands on her-
I'm slammed into, hard. Hard enough that when I hit the floor, the air gets knocked out of me.
It takes me a second to realise what's happening, a second to realise who's pinning me to the ground.
"That didn't look like it was going to end well for our dear Uncle."
Peter's cunning eyes smile as he keeps me to the floor.
"You've been let out of the asylum then, have you?" I grit out, my shortened breath slowly evening. But the fury stays, and I'm finding it hard to keep it in check- unsure if I should keep it in check.
"I couldn't miss such an important occasion." He replies, pulling his weight off of me as the Erudite guards retake their hold. I'm up in an instant, now feeling something metal clasping around my wrists. Handcuffs. Peter dusts off his dark jacket, "looks like I was in the right place at the right time, doesn't it, Uncle?"
I don't look at the older Prince, knowing all I'll do is create more damage for myself.
But his voice breaks on the first word, before he grounds himself, "that you were, Peter." My brother places himself in front of me. "You wouldn't mind doing me the favour of holding this old thing, do you?"
I'm unable to look away as he hands over the prized journal to Peter without thought. Are they working together? I stare at my brother in bewilderment, unsure what to even think of the kid I grew up with.
Peter holds onto the book, moving it around in his hands like he's never seen something like it before. "What's it for?"
Arthur shakes his head, pulling down his suit jacket. "Your father just gave it to me, a gift from our mother. It'll be nice to go through it after the party."
Peter nods along, placing the book under his arm. "Cool." He turns his head, looking back at me, "to the ball, then?"
Tris's POV
I wake with a gasp, my body jerking upright as I gulp in a breath of air. The whole room seems to move with me, and as my wide eyes begin to focus, I find myself looking at an audience.
"Hey, Bea, take it slow, okay?" Christina crouches in front of me, her warm, but stern eyes burning through mine. Glancing past her, I find Marlene. Then Zeke, Uriah, Eric, and-
"Xav?"
He smiles, but it's tight. "How are you feeling?"
Confusion ripples through me. That odd dissociation feeling after waking up from a vivid dream holds, and it takes a little time to remember what has happened.
"Bea?" Christina asks again.
Turning my head from Xavier, I say, "Arthur let you go?"
Christina glances at Mar. Marlene's fingers stick close to her mouth, biting on her nails. She stands next to Uriah, and I can just about see Uris fingers cresting her shoulder.
"Four's given the book over." Christina finally says, and the moment of silence that follows is heavy enough to slice.
I look at her, realisation slowly dawning on me. That book is supposed to be in Celia's hands, not Arthur's.
I stand abruptly, the blanket falling into a heap on the wooden floor. "Is he still with Arthur? Where are they?"
"Four's just following the plan, Tris," Zeke says, taking a step towards me, "we had no other way to get the girls back, you know that."
Frustration coils inside of me, "it's different now- Arthur can't have the book, Celia-"
I cut myself off. What am I supposed to say to them? Some otherworldly being told me in some fantastical dream that I was to let Celia have the journal? Give her all my information- to do what? Talk to the gods?
They all look at me to continue, but I don't. Instead, I push past them, moving out of the room and through the hall.
My name's shouted behind me, and the first to catch up was Xavier. "What are you doing?"
I push through the double doors, entering back into the ballroom. "I'm going to fix this."
He nods, following me down the steps, "what do you want me to do?"
My heart seems to double in size as I gaze up at him. Such a loyal boy Xavier has always been. He smiles down at me, which solidifies his task.
"I want you to go find Mum, Dad and the boys- and I want you to stay out of this."
He's shaking his head before I even finish. "You know I'm not going to do that."
I huff out a breath, scanning the crowd. Hearing the others catch up to us, I spot him.
The doors slam against the marbled walls at the grand entrance to the ballroom. First steps through Arthur, who gladly eats up the attention of the crowd.
"May I have your attention, ladies and gentlemen!"
The room falls into almost silence as the Prince descends the stairs. But Arthur's request is not the reason.
Behind him walks Peter, and behind them is Tobias, being held by two Erudite guards.
I take in a sharp inhale of breath as I see the blood drip down his mangled arms. My horrified eyes search out his, but he watches the floor as the men holding him pull him down the sleek steps.
"Where's the King?" Someone mumbles behind me. I don't give myself time to think before I'm pushing through the crowd, towards Tobias.
The air seems to change as I move, with each royal family retreating away from me, making a direct hall to the three princes.
And of course, Arthur sees me, first. His smile drops as he looks at my slip.
Heart pounding in my chest, I say, "I'll go put it back on, but only if you release him."
Arthur shakes his head, "you're going to put it back on because I have him, Beatrice." He moves closer to me, and soon he's fiddling with the strap holding up the dress. "This'll need to be taken off before you put my masterpiece back on."
A shiver racks my body as I feel his tough fingers skim my hot skin. His gaze locks onto the white scars, his thumb moving back and forth. "Looks like you are not as easily affected as poor Tobias here."
I look over to Tobias, eyes wide. His gaze momentarily meets mine before he starts pulling against his guards. I know from the never ending flow of blood that this isn't the first time he's fought back.
"No, stop!" I shout, going to move towards him. He looks up at me sharply as Arthur grasps my arms. I'm pulled back against the older man, and I have to clench my teeth so hard together to stop the shivers from moving my body against his.
"The Princess is right, nephew," Arthur tuts, "the more your struggle, the less likely you are to heal those wounds."
Tobias's red hot gaze meets Arthur's, "I'm sorry, am I killing myself a bit too early for you? Is this taking out the fun of wiping out my brother and I in one swoop?"
My blood freezes over as I hear gasps from the audience. My frozen body is held tighter against Arthur's relaxed one, his hand slowly running across my lower stomach.
"I have a plan, and I'd like to stick to it," Arthur replies smoothly, like all the pieces to his puzzle are sliding right into place. "Can someone go retrieve my dress?" Arthur calls out, his arms still keeping mine at my side. I don't dare move, knowing any sort of movement will have my body touching his in ways only nightmares could fuel.
But my stillness doesn't keep his lips from moving to my ear, hot breath against my flushed skin. "I think it's time to show them what you're capable of."
