So this was a request of a Tris-Katniss fic. It might be rubbish! :P Basically I couldn’t split up Fourtris so it’s set before she’s in Dauntless, the Choosing Ceremony is fast approaching and she’s nervous, she’s uncertain…
I perch upon the grassy mound that surveys the city. I watch as my feet dangle in the breeze. Sometimes, you need your own company.
Though everytime I appreciate this, I feel a twinge of guilt as my Abnegation roots flood back to me. It feels selfish wanting to be by myself, it feels selfish wanting to escape things and I shouldn’t be that. But I don’t see what else there is to do.
The choosing ceremony is weeks away and I’m nervous.
I suppose it’s natural to feel nerves. I will decide my future. I will decide whether to leave my parents and all that is familiar. I decide. The word ‘decide’ stings me. It’s my choice but I’ll have to live with it. It’s my life. It’s my future. That’s daunting.
Things should get easier. The aptitude test will come and I will know me. I will know who I am and who I am supposed to be. But as the days pass, the anticipation grows and the waiting has me in a stranglehold.
I hear the crunching of grass, its footsteps behind me.
"Oh…" says a girl’s voice.
I turn, she has dark hair and she wears dark clothes. Is she Dauntless?
"Sorry I was just…" my voice trails off.
"You okay?" she asks.
I turn back and watch the city. Though she doesn’t turn away, at least I don’t think she does. I don’t hear any footsteps.
"Do you want me to go?" I ask.
I hear footsteps but they get closer rather than further away. She sits down beside me. I sigh.
"Who are you?" I ask.
"You ask a lot of questions." She tells me.
My cheeks burn. Maybe I’m Erudite. I like to know things.
"You don’t seem… Good." She says slowly.
"I’m fine." I repeat.
She nods and follows my stare out into the city. We sit there in silence. As if there’s a sudden block between us, leaving us ignorant to one another’s presence.
If I talk to her will she leave? Is that what she wants? Is that what I want? Do I want to confide?
She’s right. I do ask a lot of questions.
"It’s the choosing ceremony…" I begin.
"What? You don’t know?"
She just blinks at me.
"Aren’t you from…?" I signal at the city.
"I’m passing by." She tells me.
"I don’t… You’re…"
"You’re from outside the fence?"
She nods. She seems so casual. She seems so calm. My head is alive with thought, curiosity and fear.
"How is that possible?!"
I get up and back away. She just stares at me.
"You can’t be." I tell her.
She grabs my hand and squeezes it.
"Well I seem pretty real, don’t you think?"
I shake my head. I want to run but I want answers. My head is spinning with a ferocious inner uncertainty.
"What’s the choosing ceremony?" she asks.
In my head I start defining it but I say nothing. I just stare at her in awe.
"Hey…" she says softly.
I shake my head and realise I’ve said nothing.
"It’s where I choose…"
"Well… I gathered choosing was a part of it."
"Well. Yeah. I have to choose, decide, the rest of my life."
She nods again.
"And you’re nervous?" she asks.
"Well, I just have to decide the rest of my life." I tell her.
The silence trickles on once more. I slide back and dangle my feet over the edge of the mound again.
"Do you have anyone? You can talk to?" she asks.
"I have my brother I guess…"
She sits down beside me again.
"Caleb." I tell her, "Where are you from?"
"I have a sister." she tells me.
I smile a little.
"Prim." she lets me know.
"That’s a nice name."
"So is Caleb."
I smile again.
"You know my brother’s name, I know your sister’s name, we don’t know eachother’s names."
She smiles too.
"Katniss." She tells me.
"Beatrice." I tell her.
"Nice to meet you Beatrice."
"You still didn’t say, where you’re from?" I tell her.
"What is the choosing ceremony? You didn’t really explain."
"It’s…" I sigh, "We have factions, they suit different things. Abnegation, where I am now, Dauntless, Erudite, Candor and Amity."
"And you have to choose one?"
"What are they like?"
"You like questions too." I say slyly.
She smiles a little this time.
"Abnegation, the selfless. Dauntess, the brave. Erudite, the intelligent. Candor, the honest, Amity, the peaceful." I recite.
"Good luck Beatrice."
"I should go. I need to go…" she says.
"It was nice to meet you." I tell her.
She smiles and gets up. I keep staring out at the city.
"Be brave." Is the last thing I hear her say.
I walk up to the mound the next day. Down there, things feel absorbing and suffocating.
Up here, up here feels free. I like free.
I feel a familiar warmth. For a moment it confuses me.
She sits down, smiles at me and we start to talk.
She tells me about Panem, she tells me about Districts, she tells me about the Hunger Games. I find myself almost in awe of her, in awe of her bravery, in awe of what she’s overcome. I tell her what I think of the other factions, I tell her about my fears, I tell her I want to overcome them.
The next time I see her, the Choosing Ceremony is tomorrow. I feel my stomach bubbling with uncertainty. She looks tired, she looks pale, she looks stressed. I don’t ask her why.
"I’ve missed seeing you…" I say awkwardly.
"I’ve missed you too Tris."
"Nice ring to it, I think…" she smiles.
I smile too.
"Tris…" I say, "Are you okay?" I ask her.
"How are you feeling? About tomorrow?"
"Did you have your aptitude test? You told me about that."
Divergent bounces in my brain. It crumples me with fear and curiosity.
"How was it?"
"It was interesting." I tell her.
"I don’t have long." she says.
I nod. I feel a ripple of disappointment.
"I wanted to give you something."
I raise an eyebrow. I’m not used to being given things. She hands me a pin.
“It’s a mockingjay pin. As long as you have it, nothing bad will happen to you. I promise.”
I look at the pin in the palm of my hand. It’s pretty. It’s elegant.
My eyes meet hers.
"Why, why did you want to give me it?"
"You’re my friend." she smiles.
I smile back at her. I shuffle a little closer to her.
"I’m Divergent." I say.
"I can’t be categorised."
"Isn’t that a good thing?"
"No." I reply instantly.
"Doesn’t it make you different? You categorise people on one trait. You break them down to make them simple. You’re not simple."
She points at the pin in my hand and laughs a little.
"What did I say?" she whispers.
I smile too. I feel better with her around. There’s something about her I can fall into, like up here where it’s free, with her, I feel important. With her, I feel like I’m okay.
"You’re special. I’ve noticed that." she tells me.
"Yes. I have."
Our eyes meet and I feel as if the world slows down. I try to speak but I feel nothing come out.
"What is it?" she asks softly.
"I don’t, I don’t want you to go." I feel shy suddenly.
Gently she presses her palm against my cheek. The warmth makes me feel a little unsteady. I’m not used to being touched.
"I’ve got to."
"It’s funny, how familiar you feel." I tell her.
"I think we’re alike. I think, with all we’ve had, here, we’re free."
She drops her hand and the warmth is replaced by the sting of wind.
"How long have you got?" I ask.
"Not long. There’s things I have to do."
A sting of impulse leads me to press my lips to hers. It suddenly dawns on me what I’ve just done, I back away and almost fall over the edge. I feel flustered. What did I just do?
"I’m sorry." I mumble.
"You should be." she tells me.
She grabs my collar and pulls her back towards me. Our lips meet again. Her lips are soft. Her lips make me strong.
Our kiss is longer than before. Her fingers brush my cheek.
"Be brave Beatrice." she whispers, pressing her forehead to mine.
Instead of replying, I kiss her again. I’m overpowered by something inside me. It’s something satisfying, it’s something comfortable and knowing I don’t have long, I’m determined to revel in it.
She falls backwards and we continue to kiss.
She takes the pin from my hand and looks up at me, brushing my hair around my ears.
"You’ll be okay."
She pins it against my shirt.
"You will too."
We kiss again.
A stolen moment, one that makes no sense, one that I don’t want to end.
I will be brave. I will do so for her.