Another attempt at Eric/Tris. This is basically Divergent, but with a love triangle involved. I know it's unoriginal, as this has been done a few times. This is one of those stories where Eric finds out from the get-go that Tobias likes Tris, but he won't force himself on Tris this time.

The war is pushed back a year later, and everything is canon up until when they learn how to throw punches.

Edited: 5/2/15

After lunch, Four leads us to a new room. It's huge, with a concrete floor that has rust stains and it has a large platform in the middle. On the left wall is a chalkboard. I wonder when technology would come into place but probably not until the second stage. Seeing that it's the physical stage, it would be pointless.

Our names are written on the board in alphabetical order. Hanging at three-foot intervals along one end of the room are large orange punching bags. Eric is leaning against one of them, looking at us like another group is more superior then us.

"I overlooked the Dauntless-born with Lauren this morning, and as I said yesterday," he begins, straightening his posture until he's not leaning against the punching bag, "they have an better chance of passing initiation then the lot of you. It's best not to get cocky, because that would decrease your chances of making it through initiation."

It's like I see a double-standard in his words; I bet he was cocky during his initiation. The Erudite are arrogant, so it shouldn't come as a surprise since he was once Erudite.

"As I said this morning," says Four, "next you will learn how to fight. The purpose of this is to prepare you to act; to prepare your body to respond to threats and challenges – which you will need, if you intend to survive life as a Dauntless."

I wonder what that will be, but since Eric mentioned cuts at the end of stage one and three, it wouldn't be easy.

"Today, you will first learn about fighting techniques and tomorrow you will start fighting each other," explains Eric. "I highly recommend that you pay attention as Four demonstrates. Those who don't learn fast will find themselves unprepared.

Four names a few different punches, demonstrating each one as he does, first against the air and then against the punching bag.

I catch on as we practice. Like with the gun, I need a few tries to figure out how to hold myself and how to move my body to make it look like his. The kicks are more difficult, though only he teaches us the basics. The punching bag stings my hands and feet, turning my skin red, and barely moves no matter how hard I hit it.

Four wanders through the crowd of initiates, watching as we go through the movements again, while Eric paces behind us, like a lion waiting for his prey. When he stops behind me, my heart begins to race and my palms sweat. I don't want to look at him, as I don't want him to look at me. He most likely wants to see me not do well, since he even doubted that I would even last.

Looking sideways at him, he studies me, but not as if I'm inferior, for some reason. "There is room for improvement. You just need to hold yourself correctly."

He puts his hands on my shoulders and then to my waist to straighten my posture. "Just bend your knees a little, and if it helps, think about something that makes you angry, that way the punching bag will not look as if you weren't hitting it."

He walks away from me, and I slouch. Considering that he expressed doubts about me lasting initiation, I'm wary of what his motives might be. However, I should take his advice, if I want to make it to initiation.

So, I bend my knees and straighten my posture. The challenge is thinking of something that angers me, and somehow it's not that hard. I think of every report that the Erudite released with every punch, how it marred Abnegation's reputation. The bag sways a little more as a result.

Not by much, but it's an improvement. When Four stops in front of me, my anxiety increases. I had Eric analyze me. I don't need Four to do the same. He stares at me, like he's analyzing my movements as I punch the bag with force.

"Don't exert yourself. You don't have much muscle," he says, "which means that you are better off using your knees and elbows. You can put more power behind them."

Suddenly he presses a hand to my stomach. My heart pounds so hard my chest hurts, and I stare at him, wide-eyed.

"Never forget to keep tension there," he says in a quiet voice. Four lifts his hand and keeps walking. I feel the pressure of his palm even after he's gone, though Eric's touch feels even more prominent then that. It's strange, but I have to stop and breath for a few seconds before I can keep practicing again.

When we are dismissed for dinner, Christina nudges me in the elbow.

"I'm surprised Four didn't break you in half," she says. She winkles her nose. "Though I find Eric more scary then Four. I thought he might have killed you."

"Yeah, he's scary alright," I say. I don't know what his motives were, but I guess I don't want to. I wish that the whole thing didn't happen.

Today is the day we start fighting, which is what Four said yesterday. While everyone else is sleeping, I hastily change into the plain black clothes supplied by the Dauntless and leave the dormitory.

I've only been here for two days now, so it takes some time for me to find the second training room. The room is dimly lit, though I can easily see the punching bags as the orange fabric makes them luminous.

I approach the nearest punching bag and bend my knees slightly, just as Eric taught me. I don't even know why I should even take his advice, concerning the negative impression that he gave me the first night. It could be because I want to pass initiation.

Since I never like to think about Erudite, I focus my anger on the antagonistic reports as I practice. The bag sways slightly. I press my palm against the surface until it stops swaying before I punch it again, this time, using my elbows.

"Whoa, Stiff, it's not such a good idea to waste your energy on the first day of fighting," I hear a rough voice say. Eric. I abruptly turn and face him. He stands a few feet away from me. I expect him to yell at me for entering the training room without authorization. Instead, he wears an amused smirk on his face.

"What?" I demand before I could think. I cringe, knowing that I shouldn't have snapped at an Dauntless leader. Especially a potentially volatile one like Eric. He shows no reaction to me snapping at him.

"I find it rather surprising that an initiate originating from a faction such as Abnegation would be this determined to go through stage one," he says, advancing towards me.

"I have no intention of becoming factionless," I tell him. I try to find an excuse just so I could get away from him, but I don't.

"No one wants to go to the factionless slums, trust me," he says. "Besides, as I said last night, there is room for improvement for you, and all someone has to do is make you better."

Due to the way he says it, it sends a shiver down my spine.

"No, learning under you is cheating my way up the ranks," I point out. I want to learn for myself how to defend myself, not have someone like Eric teach me.

"It's not cheating if you learn from me," says Eric. "Unlike Four, I'm authorized to take an initiate under my wing if I believe that they'll show improvement."

A few warning bells go off in my head, but not strong enough to signify that he's dangerous. "I can manage on my own, thanks," I tell him.

"Well, I would hate to see you cut from initiation, especially after you decided to have an tattoo." He touches the three ravens that are on the side of my collarbone with his index finger. My heart races at his touch, though I recoil slightly.

I slap his hand away and I expect him to grab me by the shoulders and slam me into the nearest wall for my act of rash stupidity, but his smirk widens.

"Yeah, there is no disappointment with you," he says. "The feisty female initiates tend to last long, and all you would need is to have someone train you to be better."

The door opens and I look over Eric's shoulder to see Four enter the training room, an black jacket slung over his shoulder. He looks at us quizzically before he hardens his gaze, turning it to Eric.

"What she do that would require you to intimidate her at this time of morning?" asks Four.

"Nothing," says Eric. "The best protégés require some intimidation to mold their abilities."

I stumble and my back hits the punching bag. What did Eric just call me?

Four obviously is not going to sweep that under the rug. "You are going to make the Stiff your protégé? I thought that you enjoyed seeing the weak initiates suffer through initiation. You always root for the strong ones"

Blood rushes to my face as I glare at Four. I'm not weak and I'll prove that I'm not weak.

"I acknowledge good potential when I see it," says Eric, smirking. "And she'll only have improvement from the best."

"And that person is you?" asks Four through gritted teeth. "We are not supposed to personally train the initiates. It's considered unfair."

"You forget that I'm authorized to take an initiate under my wing," Eric replies. "If you do so, it's considered favoritism."

"Yeah, I forgot that hypocrisy," Four spits out, with evident sarcasm.

Seeing this as an escape, I quietly leave the room just as their argument starts. I look for the dormitory to find peace, so I can mull over what happened at the training room in silence.

I thought this initiation would be difficult at best, but it has become even worse considering that Eric has made me his protégé. I'll never last stage one of initiation if he's going to examine me like he's holding a microscope.

All he wants to do is to see me fail initiation.

"What were you doing this morning?" asks Christina during breakfast. "I thought I saw you leave your bed."

I pick my muffin, and look at her. "Just practicing some punches. That's all."

I don't want to tell that Eric has made me into his protégé against my will. I can't afford jealousy, especially if it's over something I never even wanted in the first place.

"Hopefully you didn't spend too much of your energy, because we are expected to fight this morning," says Christina.

"Trust me, I recovered some of it by resting," I reply, before finally taking a bite out of my muffin.

"You weren't in the training room the same time as Eric and Four, were you?" asks Will, as he sits down next to Christina.

"Why?" I ask.

"I overheard some members of Dauntless talking at the breakfast line," Will replies. "Something about Eric and Four getting into some sort of brawl."

"Over what exactly?" asks Christina.

"I couldn't get what it was exactly," says Will.

I'm relieved that he didn't hear the real reason why those two engaged in an brawl, because it's unfair for one of the initiates to get personal help. I don't want to cheat my way up, and that's what it is.

Christina, Will, and I are the first initiates to enter the training room. I see that Eric is standing in the corner smirking while Four's back is turned, as he writes on the chalkboard.

I feel my stomach twist into a knot, fearing the worst. There are nine of us, so there is a chance that I might not fight, but I don't want to be put with anyone physically imposing. I don't want easy; I just don't want something too difficult.

Four is finished writing on the board once all the transfers are here, and he turns to face us. "Since there are an odd number of you, one of you won't be fighting today." He steps away from the board, and I see that my name is next to Edward's, one of the Erudite initiates. We come second after Will and Al.

I've seen him with the punching bags yesterday. He's quite good.

"Good luck," says Will. "He read self-defense books when he was ten for fun."

"That's encouraging," I say with sarcasm.

"This isn't good," says Christina. "I'm up against the Tank."

"The Tank?" I find Christina's name on the board. Written next to it is "Molly."

"Yeah, Peter's slightly more feminine-looking minion," she says, nodding toward the cluster of people on the other side of the room. Molly is a tall like Christina, but that's where the similarities end. Her skin is lighter and she has shoulder length brown hair with bangs that nearly cover her eyebrows.

"Those three" – Christina points at Peter, Drew, and Molly in turn – "have been inseparable since they crawled out of the womb, practically. I hate them."

Will and Al stand across from each other on the platform. They put their hands up by their faces to protect themselves, as Four taught us, and shuffle in a circle around each other. Maybe watching them could give me tips on how to fight.

Christina goes on about how Peter is "pure evil" and his tendency to lie about brawls as I watch the fight between Will and Al. Al punches Will hard in the jaw. I wince.

I pay attention to the way they hold their bodies; anything that I could use during my fight. Will is guarding his abdomen every time Al tries to land a punch to his abdomen. I could use that

"Tris, are you listening to me?" asks Christina.

I look at her. "I'm just trying to see what I could use during my fight."

"I don't blame you, since no one wants to be unprepared," says Christina. "At least you don't have Molly or Peter."

Will hooks a foot around one of Al's legs and yanks back, knocking Al to the ground. Al scrambles to his feet.

"I'll have to see it first," I say.

"Trust me, it wouldn't be pretty," she replies. "It would be no fun being beaten into a bloody pulp.

I nod as I look at the platform. Will and Al face each other for a few more seconds, more hesitant and wary than ever. Will flicks his brown hair from his eyes. They glance at Four like they're waiting for him to end the match, but he stands with his arms folded.

After a few seconds of circling, Eric rages, "Do you think this is a leisure activity? Should we break for naptime? Fight each other!"

"But…" Al straightens, lowering his guard down, and says, "Is it scored or something? When does the fight end?"

"It ends when one of you is unable to continue," says Eric. For a moment, I want to speak out: that's sadism. However, I decide to keep my mouth shut.

"According to Dauntless rules," Four says, "one of you could also concede."

Eric narrows his eyes at Four. "According to the old rules," he says. "In the new rules, no one concedes."

"A brave man acknowledges the strength of others," Four replies.

"A brave man never surrenders."

"Well, if those were the rules when we fought, you wouldn't be standing here," Four retorts.

Eric glares at Four for a few seconds. I feel like the air pressure in the room has decreased, and these two were going to fight. Fortunately, Eric turns away from Four.

Al wipes his sweaty forehead with the back of his hand.

"This is ridiculous," Al says, shaking his head in disbelief. "What's the point of beating him up? We're in the same faction!"

"Oh, you think it's going to be that easy?" Will asks, grinning. "Go on. Try to hit me slowpoke."

Will puts his hands up again. Al tries a punch and Will ducks. After a failed punch and a few kicks, Al charges at Will, grabs his arm before punching him in the jaw.

I watch the light leave Will's eyes. They roll back into his head, and all the tension leaves his body. He slips from Al's hands, dead weight, and crumples to the platform.

Please be alive. Please be alive.

Al's eyes widen, and he crouches next to Will, tapping his cheek with one hand. The room falls silent until there is a pin drop as we wait for Will to respond. For a few seconds, he doesn't, just lies on the platform. Then he blinks, clearly dazed.

Get him up," Eric says. He stares with greedy eyes at Will's fallen body, like the sight is a meal and he hasn't eaten in weeks. The curl of his lip is cruel.

Four turns to the chalkboard and circles Al's name, declaring him the winner.

"Next up – Edward and Tris!" shouts Eric.