Chapter 2: Wedded Bliss
Four Months before Tobias's Choosing Ceremony (Early February)
Beatrice POV
"Beatrice." My mother's gentle voice creeps into my consciousness, into the space between dreams and waking. A cool hand gently brushes my hair away from my face. As it skims the blond hair at the top of my head, I almost think it is my father's hand. He often brushed his hand over it in just the same way.
But then as I pull further from dreams into reality, I remember that my father and brother are dead, and we have been without them for two months now. It is not my father lovingly stroking my hair, and it never will be. I keep my eyes closed a few more moments. I'm not ready to come back to reality right now.
"Beatrice," my mother says again. "It's time to wake up, dear child." I cannot avoid the truth any longer. I open my eyes. Mother sits at the edge of my bed, and her hand touches my cheek. She smiles, but her eyes are still sad, grief-stricken. Just as they are every morning. For a moment, I take her in. These past two months, since the accident, have aged her. It feels like yesterday, and at the same time, it feels so long ago, as though it has been years since we were whole, as though it has been decades.
"Good morning, Mother," I murmur, my voice thick with sleep. I sit up slowly, rubbing the sleep from my eyes.
"Beatrice." Mother's voice sounds tight, strained... but firm and resolute. "Today is an important day."
My brow furrows in confusion. What could be important about today? It's just another Saturday. It isn't a holiday, and I don't remember being informed of any events planned for today. I frown. "What do you mean? Important, how?"
Mother sighs, but forces a smile. "You know that we cannot survive on our own, Beatrice. Marcus Eaton has asked for my hand, and I have accepted. We will wed at noon."
I gape at her. "Marriage?! To... today?!" I stutter. My eyes well with tears. It has been only two months since my father died! No one can replace him, and no one should try, so soon. I bite my cheek and will away the tears that threaten to fall. Mother just looks at me, patiently. I look down at my lap and nod. This turn of events only adds more fuel to the fire that is my anger, another downpour into the ocean that is my grief, but there is nothing I can do about it. I know Mother loved them... I know she never wanted this, either. But here we are.
++o++
As I dressed, ate breakfast and did my chores, I was in a daze. I know I did these things, but I hardly remember doing them. It is almost as though I am back in those first days of grief-- I am numb, I am nothing. It is not until my mother and I are walking silently to Abnegation Headquarters, to the meeting room where the ceremony will take place, dressed in our usual gray robes, our hair twisted in the usual knot, that it occurs to me that today not only will my father be replaced, but so will Caleb.
We will be starting a new life with Marcus... and Tobias.
My stomach clenches as I remember our moment on the roof. I have been too wrapped in my grief these past months to even think of our indiscretion, but I think of it now. That boy I kissed, that I was so scandalously close to, today will become my 'brother'. And our one and only previous meeting... was on that rooftop.
When I kissed Tobias, I needed comfort, I was overwhelmed with grief. I never thought I would see him again. And now I have to live with him?! I cringe anticipating what will undoubtedly be an awkward and uncomfortable reunion. I can only hope that Marcus and my mother are too distracted with their nuptials to notice, because I doubt that we will both be able to hide it well.
Before my anxiety can swell any further, we are walking up the steps to the meeting room. I force all evidence of emotion from my face and steel myself for what will come next.
The face of Abnegation headquarters is just a cement rectangle, like all the other buildings in the Abnegation sector. But when we shove the front door open, familiar wood floors and rows of wooden benches arranged in a square greet me. In the center of the room is a skylight that lets in a square of white sunlight. It is the room's only adornment.
Marcus stands at the edge of the square of sunlight, and I see Tobias sitting on a bench behind him. His eyes are wide and his face slack. He looks as shellshocked as I feel. Maybe it is difficult to accept that the parent you lost is being replaced no matter how long it has been since they passed away.
I sit on my family's old bench. I used to sit next to my father, and Caleb, next to my mother. I will keep my name today, but my mother will not. She will take Marcus's name and become Natalie Eaton. Now I feel like the only one left. The last Prior.
When Marcus sees my mother, his whole face lights up. The deep blue of his eyes appears brighter, his skin tone looks warmer, and he smiles with his whole face-- his whole body, almost.
I make eye contact with Tobias, and we both quickly look away from one another. I focus my attention on the ceremony that is taking place. Jonah, a council member that worked with my father, comes forward from a bench in a corner and smiles sadly at Mother.
The ceremony is short. They exchange the usual vows and after they have each put a ring, just a simple silver band, on the other's fourth finger on their left hand, they hold hands as they are pronounced husband and wife. Throughout the ceremony, it's as though I could feel Marcus's excited energy from across the room, though he was facing away from me. My mother, on the other hand, is somber, and her smile does not reach her eyes. She looks at me as the ceremony concludes and I try my hardest to smile at her. Just like at the funeral, I must be strong for her.
++o++
Tobias POV
"Um..." I clear my throat and rub the back of my neck. "It's this one," I say as I turn up the short concrete walk to the front door of my house, the house I have lived in since I was born, which looks exactly like every other house on my street. Beatrice didn't say a word to me, or even look at me, the entire walk here; she just glared at the sidewalk. Even when we stopped at the supply warehouse-- where the food and other items for the factionless are sorted-- to get boxes, she did not make eye contact with me or speak a single word. I was anxious enough to be seeing her again, especially under these circumstances, but the feeling intensified each time I glanced at her face. She is beautiful, even when she's scowling.
When the wedding ceremony ended, Marcus informed us that he and I will be moving into Natalie and Beatrice's house, as it has three bedrooms and ours has only two. After instructing us to pack all his and my personal belongings tonight, so that we will be ready to move them in the morning, he quickly ushered Beatrice's mother out of the meeting room, making it clear that he expects us to give them privacy tonight. Beatrice and I are to sleep at the house Marcus and I are moving out of.
I let Beatrice step inside first, then I follow her, shutting the door behind me. She looks around the living room for a moment, her hands clenched in fists at her sides, her jaw tense. There's really nothing to see; every Abnegation home looks the same-- the same worn gray furniture, the same floorplan, the same dishes, the same table and chairs, the same bare gray walls.
Beatrice releases a heavy, exaggerated sigh. "Well, let's get this over with," she says. "You take the bedrooms. I'll pack the bathroom, kitchen and living room." She doesn't wait for me respond before she picks up a few boxes from where we dropped them near the fireplace and marches into the kitchen, her eyes cold with anger. "I can't believe I'm stuck doing this," she mutters under her breath, but I'm still close enough to hear it. I sigh and start upstairs with a small stack of boxes.
It's clear that she doesn't want to be here with me, that she never wanted this. I can't blame her-- I'm sure I would feel the same way had Marcus remarried just months after my mother died. As it is now, I'm not sure how to feel yet. I don't think a single day has gone by without me hoping to see her again one day. But I certainly did not want to see her as my sister. And I would never have wished for Beatrice and her mother to end up stuck with Marcus. If Mrs. Prior-- I mean, Mother-- knew what Marcus is really like, I am sure she would not have accepted his marriage proposal, no matter how destitute she and Beatrice were.
It doesn't matter any more. We cannot change the situation we are now in. I just hope things between us do not remain so tense and uncomfortable.
I close the door to my room, making sure I hear it latch, before I begin packing. It isn't that I want to shut Beatrice out... but the first thing I plan to do is unlock and open the trunk my mother once gave me. She told Marcus that it was to store spare blankets. I take a moment to admire the blue glass sculpture, the trunk's only contents at the time my mother placed it in my room. So much is changing in my life, and it's strange, almost overwhelming, to think that I am preparing to move to a home where my mother has never lived. I close my eyes and inhale and exhale in steady, controlled breaths, then open my eyes and continue my work.
I partially unfold one of the few extra blankets I have gathered-- the trunk has never actually held any sort of linens-- and partially unfold one. Emptying the trunk one item at a time, I look for just a moment at each item in my collection as I place it on the blanket, smiling and shaking my head at the irony of the latest addition. Adding the blue sculpture last, I re-fold the blanket so that it conceals and protects the secret collection of odd items, now tucked neatly inside, and place it at the bottom of the trunk, stacking the other two spare blankets on top. As blankets are what Marcus has always been told would be stored in this trunk, I am hoping that my strategy will keep my secret collection from discovery.
I place the trunk at the bottom of the large box, then pack my clothes first, stacks of pants and shirts, and my schoolwork and textbooks on top. One box is all I need to carry every possession I own. I keep my black marker out and label the box with my name; I certainly do not need Marcus opening this box and finding the sculpture or the rest of my collection.
I can hear Beatrice moving things around downstairs as I cross the hall to Marcus's room, shuddering as I pass the small hall closet. Marcus's room is much the same as my own. I pause and swallow the lump in my throat as I carefully place his spare belt in the box on top of his clothes. Most Abnegation men have only one belt, but Marcus has his own reasons for needing a spare. My palms sweat and my hands shake, and I flinch when I notice a small spot of blood on the back of the belt. My blood.
I label the box with Marcus's name and carry it into the hall. Beatrice is in the bathroom emptying the drawers into another box; she must be done with the downstairs rooms. "I can finish this if you want. Or help you," I offer. For the first time today, she looks at me. I bite my lip and my stomach churns with anxiety. She still looks angry, but her gaze softens as she takes me in. I don't think it's me she is upset with, just the situation.
She just looks at me and doesn't say anything, so I wordlessly open the medicine cabinet and begin to carefully place its contents in the box, and she resumes cleaning out the drawers. As I move onto the cabinet, I finally can't take this awkward tension any longer.
"Look... Beatrice..." I sigh. "I know this isn't... ideal." She snorts at what probably sounds like the understatement of the year to her. "And I know that our... previous meeting... makes things even more awkward. I'm upset about all this, too. Can we just try to get along with each other? Be, you know, on friendly terms, maybe?" I watch her face hopefully.
Beatrice sighs and her jaw relaxes. She nods, and finally looks me in the eye. "Yes. I'm sorry. I know this isn't your fault." She looks away from me again as she packs the last cabinet. "Let's just be civil to one another and try not to have any issues." She closes the box and stands as I label it with the marker. "I'll go make dinner," she says, and I watch her hurry out of the room.
++o++
A scream rips me abruptly from my slumber. The room is pitch black except for a sliver of pale moonlight shining through barely parted curtains; it is the middle of the night. The screams continue, screams of terror, a girl's voice. It takes me a moment, but then it all comes back to me. The wedding... my new 'mother', my new 'sister'. Beatrice.
The moment I think her name my feet are on the floor, carrying me to Marcus's room, where Beatrice is sleeping tonight, where the screams are coming from.
I turn on the bedside lamp. Beatrice is curled up with her knees against her chest, her eyes are shut tight, her face twisted in pain, her hands balled in fists. I grip her shoulder and gently shake her. "Beatrice!" I call out, not too soft and not too loud, my other hand brushing her hair from her face. "Beatrice, wake up! Wake up, Beatrice, it's just a nightmare."
Beatrice finally awakens with a gasp. She frantically rolls so she is upright, though still curled up, her hands gripping the sheet beneath her. She looks at my face for only a second before throwing her arms around me, burying her face in my chest.
Usually I'm simply very uncomfortable if someone cries in my presence, but in this moment, the sound of Beatrice sobbing into my chest is agonizing. I am desperate to comfort her, to make everything better, even though I know that's impossible-- I have lost a parent before, too. So I sit down on the bed and pull Beatrice kind of into my lap; she is seated on my right leg with both legs hanging off to my right side. This is definitely more contact than we should be having, given our faction's customs and expectations, but I make no effort to change our position, and neither does Beatrice. Her hold on me stays tight and she rests her head on my shoulder. She sobs uncontrollably into my neck, much like she did on the roof of the funeral home two months ago. I wrap my arms tightly around her back. Her pain and grief rip through me, and it reminds me of how I felt during the months after my mother died.
We stay like that for a long time, wrapped around one another, and I rock her gently back and forth, whispering to her in her ear, just letting her know that I'm there and she can cry as long as she needs to. I don't know how much time has passed-- it could be twenty minutes or it could be an hour-- when her sobs quiet to sniffles and sporadic hiccups. She had let her golden hair down from its knot before bed. It falls around her shoulders like curtains of satin, and it is soft under my fingers as I stroke it idly.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't-- we shouldn't..." Beatrice mumbles, trailing off, though she makes no effort to move, nor does she loosen her grip on me. She takes a deep breath before she speaks again. "I don't mean to be such a mess," she says. "I just feel so..." She shakes her head.
"It's wrong," I say. "It doesn't matter if your father and brother are in a better place-- they aren't here with you, and that's wrong, Beatrice. It shouldn't have happened. It shouldn't have happened to you. And anyone who tells you it's okay is a liar." For a minute, the only sound is her quiet sniffling as I continue running my fingers along her hair.
Then her sniffling dies out, and Beatrice pulls away and moves to sit next to me. "What is it about you?" Beatrice says. "I always end up...letting go with you. All of this time, I have had to be strong for my mother, and I have succeeded. But when I am with you, I can't explain it...it is like I can finally let go and really feel it. Feel all of the pain. This is the second time I have cried at all-- the first time was on the roof. It must be something about you."
There's something about her, too-- instead of getting as far away from her displays of emotion, like I would were it anyone else, she draws me nearer. But if there is anything to that, it can't be, now that we're 'siblings', so I try to diffuse my tension with a joke. "Well, the last time we ended up kissing..."
We both just smile-- I'm relieved that one of us has finally acknowledged exactly what has made us so nervous around one another, and I am guessing she feels the same.
"Well," Tris says, "now that we are siblings, that is off the table." I just laugh and nod in agreement.
"Right. We'll just have to... forget that happened, and be brother and sister from now on."
Tris flinches. Did I say something wrong? I frown.
"I'm sorry," Tris murmurs, looking down. "It's just... I had a real brother. I miss him. We were twins... we have always been together... and now..." She swallows hard and bites her lip. When she does that, I just want to run my thumb along it and pull it from between her teeth. "I don't want to replace Caleb. No one could ever replace my twin brother." My heart sinks. Of course she doesn't want to replace her brother, or her father-- that is why today was so hard for her.
"Beatrice," I say, "of course no one can replace Caleb, and I would never want to. Let's just-- let's just be friends, okay? Publicly, and to our parents, of course, we are siblings. But you don't have to pretend that with me."
Beatrice smiles weakly, and nods. "Friends," she agrees. I smile back at her.
"Are you alright now?" I question her. She nods. I start to get up, but she quickly grips my arm, keeping me from leaving.
She bites her lip again and avoids making eye contact. "Can you-- can you stay with me? Just... till I fall asleep again, anyway? I just... I'm afraid I'll have another nightmare, and I'm not used to this house and..."
"Of course, I'll stay," I assure her. She moves to get comfortable in the bed, and I lay next to her. I am not sure what I'm thinking, or whether I am thinking at all, when I wrap an arm around her shoulders. My eyes widen when I realize what I did, that I might be making her uncomfortable, but she cuddles into my side, one arm bent on top of my chest and her head resting on my shoulder. I reach over to turn off the light. Beatrice doesn't say another word, and I just listen to her breathing.
While she is sleeping soundly, now without a care in the world...I'm beginning to panic. I really did not think this through. When she asked me to stay, my answer was automatic-- anything she wanted, to make her feel safe, to keep me from having my heart wrenched with those screams again... and I don't want to admit it, but deep down, I know I was jumping at the chance to stay close to her. I don't understand it. I have never wanted to be close to someone like this before-- I don't usually like anyone to touch me at all, which is rarely an issue, as we are taught here in Abnegation that touch is powerful, so it is not something we take lightly-- thoughtless touch is something that just does not happen here. More importantly it is taught that we must respect our bodies, we must be honorable and chaste. We are not even allowed to hold hands until marriage... and even then, it should only be in private, never in public.
Yet, here I am... in bed... with a girl... an absolutely beautiful girl. Since when do I notice a girl's beauty, anyway? Oh yeah-- since Beatrice. We just talked about what we are to each other-- only friends in private, and in public, we're siblings for God's sake! But clearly my lower anatomy did not get the memo. Thank goodness she only draped herself over my chest, and didn't put her leg over me, because if she felt what was going on down there... I don't think I could ever look her in the eyes again.
Calm down, Tobias. Breathe. Think of... killing puppies... or something. I listen to her breaths slow to a steady, even rhythm as she drifts off to a deep sleep as I try to remind myself that she is now my sister. But when I am sure she is asleep, I don't see any way to get out of this bed without waking her, and it has been so long since someone touched me in a kind way. So I give in to my wish to stay right where I am, and with Beatrice still draped over my chest, I allow myself to drift off to sleep.
++o++ Chapter End ++o++