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From the moment Octavia wakes up, she feels sick. All the times she’s asked Bellamy about his choosing day, he made it seem like the best day of his life. But right now, it feels like one of the worst. She feels a pit in her stomach as she gets dressed - she thought she knew what she wanted, what she thought she would do best with her life up until now, but she’s not sure anymore.
She heads to the town hall along with the mass of Dauntless, a wave of energy, but she feels like she’s somewhere else. In her head, she knows she’s not like the rest, she knows she feels a pull to something else, that she doesn’t belong, but she doesn’t want to let her brother down. She doesn’t know what she would do without Bellamy by her side.
Bellamy notices that Octavia is keeping up. Barely. But she’s distracted. She hasn't said a word to him or to Lincoln the entire train ride, during breakfast, anything. He knows that when she’s excited she just rambles. It’s when she’s nervous that she clams up. “You know you’ve got nothing to be afraid of, right?” He tries to guess at what she might be worried about. “The knife is nothing to be afraid of. It’s just for a second. Everyone does it. Everybody has a scar.” He raises his hand to show his, and so does Lincoln. He’s grateful for that. For another person on his side.
Lincoln looks over at her. He’d been afraid of the knife when it was his day too. It wasn’t an irrational fear. He remembered telling his dad he didn’t want to. “When it was our turn,” he says of him and Bellamy, "I told my dad I didn’t want to. Have to choose.” He says as a way of avoiding admitting he didn’t want to cut himself. “And he told me that all of our people share a similar scar of bravery to hold us together as one. Unified by the choices that divide us. That it took strength and bravery to stand in front of everyone and make a choice. Even if the choice was simple.” He’s not sure why, but he sort of liked the idea that all of them had a certain amount of bravery to tell people who they were. Selfless, smart, fearless, truthful, friendly.
Octavia looks at her brother and it just tugs on her heartstrings even more. What was she going to do without her brother there to reassure her? To guide her? Let alone Lincoln, who she relied on just as much. Could she really give that up? It would be so easy to choose Dauntless. So easy to happy there, to be successful there. But she wasn’t convinced it’s what she needed to do.
She looks down at her own palm, imagining the blood coursing beneath her palm, the same blood that would decide her fate soon enough. “I’m not worried about the knife,” she says honestly, the knife being the least of her worries today. What she was worried about was the choice. The choice that she was being forced to make in front of not only her people, but in front of almost every single person in society.
“Well then this is easy,” Bellamy said as if it was open and closed. She would go up there and cut her palm and show the world she was fearless, which he knew to be true. It wasn’t a big deal. She would be Dauntless, and he would keep her safe, and he wouldn’t lose his sister. He didn’t even want to entertain the idea that she was thinking of choosing a life that was anything other than that one. That she might leave. That she would disappear from his world, from his realm of influence. That he might not be the one to protect her and that he would have to accept that. That was what he feared the most. Her getting hurt. Especially her getting hurt because he couldn’t do anything about it.
Lincoln wondered for a moment if she was thinking of changing factions today. It seemed unlikely. And it was definitely not something that he wanted to see happen. The girl he’d been silently admiring, quietly loving, until he thought she was ready for something else to leave him behind. But more than anything, he wanted to see her happy. “You can’t make a wrong choice today,” he told her, his voice managing both a firmness in the conviction of his words and a gentleness that he hoped brought her a little comfort. “No matter what you pick, you’re brave for doing it. The only way you could upset us is if you choose nothing today.”
Octavia looks over to Lincoln, seeing his face, his support. Or his support in her choosing to stay in Dauntless at least. Did he know what she was thinking about right now? Not that it really mattered, since he was going to find out soon enough what her choice was. They all were. “Got it,” she says with a firm nod. She was going to have to make a choice today, no matter what happened afterward.
They arrive at the Hub, all of them hopping off the train and Octavia briefly wonders if this will be the last time she jumps off a train. The three of them head in and she sits in between the two boys. The mindless buzz of people talking should be calming, nobody's really paying attention to her, seeing her face as she struggles, but it only sets her nerves on edge even more.
Raven sits between Murphy and Clarke. Today feels easy for her. It’s cut and dry. She knows what she has to do. What the right thing to do is. She’s just a little worried about what her friends will do. And she can feel concern coming off of Murphy in anxious waves. She takes his hand and holds it tightly. He’d been her best friend since she could remember anything of her life. They were always getting into trouble together.
She linked their fingers and kissed the back of his hand. “We talked about this. You know what to do. You don’t have to worry.”
Wells overheard and said simply. “You can’t seriously be thinking of leaving. You could go so far here. You could be part of the heads of our faction one day.”
Murphy’s first instinct is to tug his hand away, not because she’s trying to hold it, but because she’s trying to hold it at this moment. They’re sitting next to each other, but he’s not sure he’s ever felt further away from Raven. He lets her hold onto his hand and comfort him, mostly for her sake rather than his.
He shoots a hard look over at Wells, “I don’t need your encouragement today, thanks.”
Clarke shoots a look over at Wells as well, shaking her head, silently telling him to stop. “Wells. You know we’re not supposed to talk about our decision,” she says simply. Those are the rules, the ones she follows...though she knows her friends are a little more lenient with them than she is.
“Yeah. She’s right.” Raven says simply. “We don’t talk about it.” She gives Clarke a small smile. Her straight laced behavior got on her nerves sometimes, but Clarke had saved her from complicated explanations with that one. And she would miss her friend after today. After today who knows if she and Clarke would even remain friendly, or if the adversarial part of their relationship would flower more. She thought for a second that it must be so easy to be Clarke, oblivious to the things around you because you follow all the rules. Easy decisions. Easy choices. Everything planned for you because everyone makes up your mind for you. For her today was easy.
Wells nodded and kissed Clarke lightly. “Sorry. You’re right.” He just felt like it would be such a waste.
Clarke smiles when he kisses her gently. She feels confident, right. She’s waited for this moment since she can remember and, though her stomach is full of butterflies, they are merely from excitement. She knows exactly what she’s going to do.
Everyone in the Hub sits with their faction. Or at least the faction they came in with. Not everyone from each faction is there, but everyone who is going to make their decision today is there along with their family and close friends. The leaders of each faction are also there to support their initiates - those returning as well as those who are new.
The room appears like some distorted version of a rainbow, with five sections, every single person dressed in the exact same color. Clarke comes in and smiles as she sees her mother up front, speaking with someone else who is setting up the bowls. She catches her mother’s eye and gives her a little wave. Abby smiles back at her daughter, waving back to her, giving her a knowing nod. She knows there will be a lot of hard choices made today, a lot of families will be split up and a lot of children will be faced with a tough future. But she feels absolutely confident about the choice Clarke will make today.
Abby calls the attention of everyone in the auditorium before she begins the ceremony. “Welcome,” she says. “Welcome to the Choosing Ceremony. Welcome to the day we honor the democratic philosophy of our ancestors, which tells us that every man and woman has the right to choose his or her own way in this world.” She looks out at each and every faction before her, smiling warmly at all of them, truly happy for each and every one of them today. “Our children are now sixteen and it is now up to them to decide what kind of young men and women they will be in the future.
“Decades ago our ancestors recognized that it is not political belief, religious belief, race, or nationalism that is to blame for a problems in the world. Rather, they decided that it was the fault of human personality—of humankind’s tendency toward evil, in whatever form that is. They divided into factions that sought to end those qualities they believed responsible for the world’s disarray.” She speaks loudly, with conviction, feeling the importance of her words and of the ceremony today.
“Those who blamed aggression formed Amity,” she says with a gently nod to the mass of people wearing red and yellow. “Those who blamed ignorance became the Erudite,” she says, giving a special smile at the young people wearing blue. She looks in the crowd for Clarke and gives her a little wink. “Those who blamed deceitfulness created Candor. Those who blamed selfishness made Abnegation. And those who blamed cowardice were the Dauntless.
“This day marks a happy occasion—the day on which we receive our new initiates, who will work with us toward a better society and a better world.” Abby gives a small nod and the room bursts into applause. She smiles gratefully and nods, taking the list of initiates from the podium before beginning.
“Taylor White,” she begins and a small, Asian girl dressed in grey comes up and takes the knife, staying with her original faction, Abnegation. A few more names are called before Abby gets to a familiar one, “Raven Reyes.”
Raven squeezes Murphy’s hand one more time, patting him on the shoulder as she walks away. She feels certain that in mere moments they will be sitting side by side again, but she thinks that he needs it. He needs support.
When she walks away she doesn’t look back, she walks forward to Abby with her head held high. She accepts the knife from her with a nod and a small smile as she takes it purposefully, cutting into her palm with a simple tightening of her jaw. No wincing, no tears. It wasn’t that she didn’t feel the pain, but it was a necessary pain. One she could live with.
As she held Abby’s gaze, she didn’t even hesitate for a second as she moved her hand to the one filled with the coals on fire and squeezed her blood onto it. She would not do what everyone wanted of her, expected of her. She would do what she needed to do. She would make the right choice for her. And that choice was a life of bravery, not one of some book learning geek.
She heard the cheers of her new faction to her right and she didn’t bother to look at her old faction. To see the look of unauthentic surprise on either of Clarke and Wells faces...to see the pain that would be on Clarke’s.
She let out her own whoop as she joined in with the Dauntless excitement, joining them, accepting their welcome. It felt warm in a way that only the Amity might rival.
Bellamy arched a brow as he watched her choose. Watched the way everything seemed pointed intentional. The way she looked at Abby. “I wonder what that was about…” he said to Lincoln as he clapped and cheered for her. To which Lincoln just shrugged, ever so helpfully.
Clarke watched as her friend walked over to be with her new faction, not even sparing a glance back at her old one. She can’t say she’s entirely surprised by Raven’s choice, she’s been able to tell that Raven hasn’t been entirely happy. But Raven was so smart, the only one she felt nervous about beating her ever. She couldn’t help the tightening in her chest - maybe things weren’t going to go entirely as planned today.
Abby watched a little sad, though it not showing beyond her eyes as Raven walked away to join the Dauntless in her new seat. She continued to call names until she reached another one that was familiar to her. “John Murphy.”
Murphy had watched Raven with a straight face. This wasn’t new information, this is what he knew was going to happen. It was what the two of them agreed to last night. But as he looked over to the yelling, excited people in Dauntless, he was beginning to wonder about his end of the bargain.
He got up slowly out of his seat, heading up to the front, accepting the knife. But he doesn’t do anything just yet, simply standing there holding it in his hand. The entire auditorium is silent and he can feel them all looking at him, staring, judging. The majority didn’t know who he was and he briefly wondered what the people he knew thought he was going to do. He knew what Raven thought. His eyes glance to the sizzling hot coals that already contain the blood of his best friend. It would be so easy to go through with the plan, to go to Dauntless, to be Dauntless. It would be so easy to be brave, to be reckless, to keep his secrets there.
But he had been wondering, not for the first time, if he wanted to keep those secrets anymore. He wasn’t a stranger to that feeling of a weight in the pit of his stomach. It felt like that’s what he had in his stomach most of the time now. He dealt with it, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to anymore. He just wanted a break...he just wanted to be free. The bowl with the shiny cool glass became more and more intriguing. Glass shows everything, no secrets. Nothing to hide. The more he thinks about it, the more he wonders if that would truly be the bravest thing he could be: honest.
Before he can change his own mind, he cuts his palm, wincing slightly at the pain. It feels less of a shock and more of a relief as he watches his blood drip and run down the clear shards of glass. Behind him, he can hear the thunder of clapping from the Candor, but all he can do is continue to watch the bowl. It feels too right that it is part of him to blur the translucent glass. To blur the truth.
Abby has to touch him gently on the shoulder to pull him out of his trance. She gives him a small nods as she guides him gently to his new faction.
Raven couldn’t help but looking at Murphy’s retreating back with complete and total shock. She didn’t know what he was thinking. Why he would do that. He never once told her he had doubts, or he was thinking of anything else. Never once. It made her feel removed from him somehow, like all this time she was being completely honest with him. She was all in. His best friend. And he’d been hiding things from her. Lying to her. She shared his largest secret with him. She’d shared her largest secret with him. And he didn’t see her worthy of the truth. It stung in a way that she couldn’t define with words.
But when his eyes met hers from across the room. He looked so small. So lost. And more at peace then she’d seen him in a long time, so her gaze could offer him nothing less than understanding as she nodded. Even if the omission still stung.
It also occurs to her then that she was truly alone. Here. In Dauntless. By herself. Not that she regrets her choice. Not that she could even imagine tolerating being Candor. But being strong was definitely easier to do when your friends had your back. When your family had your back. But her family didn’t have her back. It sat on the other side of the room from her, giving her puppy dog eyes that she couldn’t stand to look at because then she couldn’t be properly mad at him.
Mostly he was supposed to stay with her because that’s what families do. That’s what he’d promised her when she was little. When he found her on the street, begging like the factionless, while her mom was passed out upstairs, drunk. He took her to his house and he fed her. And he said that he was her family now. And that families stayed together. She looked across at him, her look harder because maybe he was trying to tell her that they weren’t family anymore. Maybe that’s why he’d been weird all day.
The only comfort was that she had lived on her own once and she could do it again.
The names go by in a blur. Child after child coming up and declaring their fate. “Harper Lyons.”
Harper smiles as she gets up from her chair, an air of serenity about her. She is not worried about today. She never has been. Today will make her entire future set. Just the way she wants it to be. Her movements to the front are half prance and half skip, more melodic than chaotic. She accepts the knife with a nod of her head to Abby, as she winces at the general unpleasantness of steel to flesh. She spilled her blood, like many before her onto the dirt that belonged to her faction, Amity. She could hear Jasper cheering for her and she smiled, jumping excitedly from the stage, barely able to wait for him to join her. Sitting without him for the next few minutes would be painful almost.
“Jasper Jordan,” Abby says immediately after. Jasper pops up out of his seat excitedly. This day was easy for him as well. They weren’t exactly supposed to talk about their choices today, but Harper and him have been talking about it for months now. They both knew exactly what they were going to do here today, what they were going to do for the rest of their lives. He was also pretty excited about the party tonight.
He accepts the knife and gives Abby a little nod. He cuts his palm, surprising even himself by how little it hurts - he’s cut his hands up in the fields more than once. And just like then, he adds his own blood to the soil and the burst of applause of his friends and family erupt behind him.
He turns and grins, his eyes locking on Harper in her new seat, rushing over to her. He’s not sure what the protocol here is, but he doesn’t exactly care as he gathers her into his arms and kisses her firmly.
Harper can’t help but smile as he approaches, as she stands to meet him, her arms open. They wrap around him tightly as she returns the kiss and has to remind herself not to get carried away. Not until the party later. Not in front of all of these people. There are some catcalls from some of their friends as she slowly pulls away with a smile. “Welcome home,” she says to Jasper as they sit down, her in his lap.
“Alright, alright,” Abby says, trying to get everyone to calm down. It takes a few minutes to get order back. “Wells Jaha,” she calls next, holding the knife for him as he steps down. Wells takes the knife and cuts his skin. He knows that he wants to stay with his parents, with Clarke. He knows even though they never once spoke of it that Clarke would stay. He wishes everything could stay like it was. That he’d still have Raven and Murphy for friends. But he’s smart enough to know that everything can’t always stay the way it was, the way that you would like for it too. Things can and do change. But he doesn’t hesitate for a second letting his blood hit the pool of water.
He hoped that his friends could still be his friends. And he hoped that the future although different, would not be less.
Abby smiles. “Welcome to Erudite.” Even if he is just returning, she’s glad that she doesn’t need to have to comfort his parents like she would if he left.
Wells nods and shakes her hand, heading to his seat as an initiate not having to wait long before Abby calls the name of her own daughter. “Clarke Griffin.”
Clarke gives a warm, proud smile before getting up out of her seat gracefully. The leaders of the factions always rotate the duty of the ceremony and she had always hoped that hers would be preceded by her mother. It wasn’t a necessity - she knows her mother would have been there either way - but it’s nice to see her up there for comfort.
She accepts the knife from her mother, who gives her a special look and a slight nod. Just like Wells, she doesn’t hesitate at all to go over to the water, cutting her palm just enough to have a drop of blood fall into the bowl of water. It was always her opinion that most people cut too much, bleed too much, when just a small amount was necessary.
She turns back to her faction and smiles, her eyes going immediately to Wells. After everything that just happened, she knows that the faction she left is not the same one she is returning to. Wells will be there for her, but Raven and Murphy will not. She had wondered if they were going to switch, but she couldn’t say for sure, let alone that they would go to two different factions.
Abby has to stop herself from giving Clarke a hug - there would be time for that later - but her smile is wider than it has been and she puts a hand on her back to lead her back to their faction. “I’m so proud of you,” she whispers as Clarke goes to take a seat.
“Monty Green,” Abby says next, as she grabs the list off the podium again. Monty gets out of his seat easily, heading up to the front, taking the knife from Abby with a nod. He always knew he’d end up staying in Amity, though he knows he would do just as well in Erudite. He knew he was different once they were in school and he actually enjoyed classes, while all the rest of his friends wanted nothing more than to get home. Sometimes he would steal books to bring home with him, reading at night, stealing old pieces of machinery, trying to invent new machines.
But he never really liked the look of the people in Erudite, who valued knowledge above all else, even being decent human beings. The way they interacted with everyone else made him know he wouldn’t fit in there at all, so he knew he wanted to stay with his friends and family. He cut his palm quickly, holding his hand over to bowl of dirt, his blood mixing in with all of his friends.
The crowd behind him cheers and he turns to grin at them. Jasper claps and yells particularly loud, clapping around Harper who is still on his lap. He goes to sit down next to them and Jasper claps him on the shoulder, “Good choice, buddy.”
“Thanks,” he says, rolling his eyes. But he smiles good naturedly, feeling completely secure in his decision.
Abby is nearing the end of her list of names, as she calls out, “Octavia Blake.” Octavia glances over at her brother and nods firmly, standing up, climbing over Lincoln as she heads to the front. As she goes, she glances back at the both of them. She knows they think think she is brave, but she isn’t. She isn’t fearless. She’s so afraid right now.
She goes up to the stage slowly, trying to keep her face blank, as she scrambles through her mind to come up with her decision. She’s feet from her fate and she still doesn’t know. Abby hands her the knife and she accepts it carefully. Technically, there’s no timeline to how long an initiate has to make their choice, but she knows she doesn’t have forever. She has to try to be brave. She has to make a choice.
Luckily, in her mind, she can rule out Erudite and Candor. She is not smart. She is not honest. She wouldn’t want to be either of those things either. The people she’s met from those factions think they’re better than everyone else. They have the power of the mind, unlike her own faction which values the body. But what does she value?
Octavia has been having these questions for years now. Whenever someone would get picked on, someone would get pushed, hit in the face, she would try to put a stop to it. She would use her own skills, the power of her own body to help others. Bellamy always asked her why she did it, why she would want to help those people who were weak. She knew he would never understand. Just like she doesn’t understand now.
Could she stay in her faction? Having to defend herself, her actions, the very fabric of her being to everyone for the rest of her life? She could, she knows that. But does she want to?
“Octavia,” Abby says gently, touching her shoulder lightly.
Octavia starts out of her thoughts and nods. She looks at the bowls - the bowl filled with stones, the bowl filled with dirt and the bowl filled with sizzling coals. She wonders for a moment not where she would feel most at home, but where she can feel free. She briefly wonders about a life in Abnegation, but she quickly dismisses it. She is kind, but she isn’t exactly sure how selfless she could be.
Which is why she cuts her palm deeply, too deeply, her mind lost in thought, that she feels like she’s not even in her body as she places her hand over the bowl, her blood disappearing in the darkness of the soil of the earth.
Bellamy looks on at his sister in shock. He never thought she would choose differently. He holds his breath for a long moment, waiting, just waiting for her to say she made a mistake, that she was lost in thought and thought her hand was over the coals. He wants her to say that. But as the time passes, seconds feeling like they last days, and she doesn’t, he starts to stand.
Lincoln puts a firm hand on his shoulder and lowers him into his seat. He wants to go and fix it. Go and stop her as she approaches the people dressed in red and yellow. Because he knows she is brave. Braver than he maybe even gave her credit for, for her to actually leave. And she is strong. Of spirit as well as of body. But he feels a loss deeper than any other he feels he’s ever experienced. Because her leaving means he’ll never get to see if she might feel something for him back.
“It has to be a mistake,” Bellamy speaks to him, trying to keep his voice level. It’s his only family he has left. She can’t be leaving. “She can’t...she can’t do this.”
Lincoln knows that Bellamy is hurting, maybe even feeling betrayed, but he can’t let his best friend cause a scene, risk his future, risk becoming factionless, so he holds him down still and nods. “She can. And she has. We don’t get to choose for her. Not this time.”
When she turns to look at them, Lincoln gives her a gentle smile, one that says everything will be okay and he feels bad that she has to see her brother like this, barely meeting her eyes, almost like he’s going to cry.
As she goes to sit, she gets a wave of cheers, of hand shakes and high fives, even a hug. And she can’t help but smile to herself. It feels strange to smile, having abandoned her brother, her family, her friends. She just hopes her new faction can fill the place now.
She looks back to Lincoln and she smiles gently back at him, nodding. He had told her that they would be proud of her no matter what, as long as she’s made a choice. And now she has. She just wishes Bellamy would look at her...she’s not so sure he’s actually proud of her. But it’s too late to take back now. Not that she feels like she would either way. She feels the pressure to be strong, to be brave already leaving her. Now, she can just be.