Chapter Text
University of the Three is big, old and luxurious looking. Vast lawns stretch around the large buildings and along the concrete paths, and the head building has a marble staircase and a majestic entrance that reaches at least ten feet from the ground. Students are out and about like whirlwinds of energy and excitement and, already, a certain detectable stress—making connections, older reuniting with friends and wide-eyed younger creatures running around in an attempt to locate themselves, getting used to the whole thought of going to a human-inspired college. Everything is so much and new and buzzing and unfamiliar, and it’s overwhelming.
And Louis is completely in love.
It still feels unreal for him, if he’s honest—he’s been waiting and longing for what feels like all his life—done a quite lot of bragging, too—for this very moment, right now and right here. On the clean pavement running between the road and the university, wind tugging at his hair and rushing along his skin as if to signalize a new beginning, about to take his first step onto school grounds as a legitimate student.
He’s done waiting now.
So he does it; carefully, he lifts his small, bare foot, takes a deep breath, and brushes his toes against the tickling grass a little before putting it down. He does the same thing with the other, and he giggles a little from the feeling. He’s doing this. He’s attending University of the Three. He’s a UoT student.
Gripping rather convulsively around the strap of the new bag his mother made for him out of linen and lavender, he approaches the space where the crowd is the thickest. He quickly attaches himself to a couple of nymphs that also seem new and starry eyed, speaking to each other in high pitched and smooth voices. Louis knows they’re nymphs, because his mother has told him numerous times about them, the tall, charming and gracious creatures from the Greek who are assigned helping forests and nature, just like himself. Or, well. Just the helping nature part, obviously. Not the other parts. Although Louis does consider himself quite charming, if he’s allowed to say so himself. Cute as hell, to be honest. It's the tall graciousness he's having a tiny bit of a problem with.
He’s getting off topic.
Quietly, he walks behind them along with a growing mass of other creatures as a senior student gathers them and initiates a tour of the place, chattering on about the place’s history and logistics, all its little perks and quirks, and all its different buildings, areas and faculties. Louis is soon in front of a tall nymph and behind a highly intimidating creature he's never heard of with fangs and pale skin, and he, like many times before, wishes he were a little bit taller than his couple of inches over five feet. He’s not the most frightening person, he knows—his tousled, caramel-tinted hair, his bop-able nose and blue eyes combined with a rather delicate frame leaves a lot to be desired in the respect-earning area.
It is what it is, he supposes, treading along and trying his best to concentrate on the lively, a tad over-excited blabbering of their guide as they seem to finally come to an end of their tour—the dorms.
The dorms are something Louis hasn’t really thought about, he realizes, very timely, fifteen minutes or so later, right as he picks up his key.
He suddenly doesn’t know if he should happily skip on to his own room or drag his feet and bite his nails on the way. He’s going to have a roommate. A creature he’s going to share his living space with for a substantial amount of future time. And his roommate could be anyone. They could be a deadly creature from one of the Underworlds. They could be a cunning soul from the Sea or a patronizing spirit from the Above. Louis doesn’t know. He’s not met anyone from those places before—he doesn’t know what to expect.
For the first time since he arrived, Louis feels a little insecure and, frankly, a little bit scared. He takes his time walking up the stairs, even though he knows he’d be up in no time if he just used his wings. He needs the time to collect himself, to prepare. His pointy ears are on guard and his petite hands are rubbing together as he goes through a hundred different scenarios that might meet him behind the door he’s approaching steadily.
When he reaches room number 204, he takes a deep breath. He fumbles with the key a little, fishing it out of the pocket of his rolled up, worn out pants and presses it into the keyhole.
There’s a light clicking sound as he turns the key. When he swings the door open he at first doesn’t see anyone and he thinks maybe he's the first one to arrive—but then a shadow appears from the bed in the left corner, and Louis’ supposed roommate slowly approaches him.
It’s a short little creature, with small and slightly asymmetric horns grown out of his head, and when Louis looks further down, he discovers the legs are covered in dark, tousled hair, and they end in hooves rather than feet.
Louis’ roommate is a faun. Louis is almost blacking out with relief.
“Hi,” he offers as he steps into the room, curiously looking around and getting accustomed to his home for the coming time—two beds, two desks, two bureaus for clothes, a window with a view of the school grounds, light blue walls, creaky wooden floors. Simple. Nice enough. He then fully turns to the faun, shooting him a bright smile. “I’m Louis.”
“Stan,” the faun introduces himself, answering Louis' beam with a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth. “You’re a… Fairy? Right?”
Louis nods. “I am. Congrats on getting it right, the lady in the reception called me an elf, which, I don’t know if I should be offended or flattered. If you work at a place like this you’d think you’d know the difference, but then again have you seen an elf? They’re so tall and graceful. If I’m going to get mistaken for anything, that might as well be it.” He stops himself, realizing his speaking picked up pace probably a little too obnoxiously, and his cheeks turn a bashful pink. “Sorry. I ramble when I’m excited. You’re a faun.” It’s not a question. “And may I just say I’m so happy to have a friend my height in this place. I have yet to find someone who’s not like seven feet or incredibly intimidating.”
This earns a little laugh to tumble from Stan’s mouth.
“God, I know, right? I was so scared you’d be a vampire or something. We got to stick together, us little folks.”
Louis decides he likes him. Which is good, because liking your roommate is probably a huge advantage when attending university, he likes to think. He’s at least got one friend in this place.
Louis learns that Stan is from the Romans, and his job is to lead lost humans back on the right path. At first Louis thinks it’s a metaphor for something deep, but he then learns that Stan’s job is quite literally leading humans gone lost in the woods back out. Which is also nice, very pure in a way, if a little anticlimactic. Stan is nice enough, though, alike Louis in many ways except maybe a little bit more cautious and quieter about things. But hey, Louis can work with that.
Everything does, over all, look like it’s going to turn out just fine, and Louis can feel the collected nervosity previously tightening in his ribcage loosen up into a content ascension. He survived his new roommate. Check.
~
The first day of college, Louis is up before dawn, sitting on the window sill and watching the sky turn from the color of overripe blueberries to the color of freshly picked apricots as the rim of the sun grows more glowingly apparent in the horizon by the minute. It’s a habit of his, rising with the sun. It makes him feel like he’s a part of something big, something better and significant. He likes to sit in a treetop or on the rocks by the river and wonder if the sun is rising at this minute somewhere else, too. If someone is sitting in another world right at this moment, unknowingly watching it with him. If someone is currently helping the sun rise and shine, if that is someone’s job.
The rays of light are tinting everything in gold, making the trees and buildings cast dark shadows over the school ground in their slow, steady routine of waking everything up. The wind starts pulling at blooming branches and dewy grass, tugging as if scared to be violent. Louis has great respect for the wind. Out of all the creatures and spirits and natural forces he’s been working with, wind must be working the hardest. Because fairies, pixies and elves are many enough for one to rest now and then, just like the other creatures in the forest, Day rests at night and Night rests during day, and water is actually quite lazy— its god complex has other forces do the moving it around for it because it’s superior and “necessary for the surviving of life” or something. (Louis occasionally forgives water for this as it is very nice to bathe once in a while.)
But see, wind never really stops, does it? It’s always whooshing somewhere. Despite feelings or circumstances, it’s always going.
Louis thinks that’s admirable.
When the sun is halfway up, Stan stirs awake to the sight of Louis appreciating nature by the open window and offers him a low “g’morning” as to which Louis answers;
“There’s nothing more beautiful than nature during sunrise. I’m positive.”
“Nice. Could you get down from there, though? We’re six floors up.”
“I have wings, silly. Nothing will happen.”
Louis does climb down at the request, though, because he’s a good person, and he sits down on his bed.
“So what time is it?”
Stan throws a quick glance at the clock perched above the door. “It’s 6.30.”
“Perfect.” Louis smiles and entwines his fingers behind his head, lying down. “I just love mornings, don’t you?”
Stan agrees absent-mindedly, pulling out a dark t-shirt from one of the drawers in the corner by the end of the bed over his head. Louis frowns bemusedly when he sees it.
“I didn’t think fauns wore human clothes.”
Stan snorts. “They do now, and so do fairies. We’re in a human developed environment, clothes are required.”
“But I can’t wear shirts.” Louis protests. “My wings will be in the way. That’s ridiculous.”
Stan just shakes his head amusedly and pulls on a pair of jeans.
“Do you honestly think they haven't taken that into consideration?” he questions with a raised eyebrow.
(Louis tries a simple white t-shirt on with a scoff. The t-shirt flows through his wings and fits around his small waist as if they aren’t even there. It almost scares him a little and he has to reach a hand back to pet his left wing to make sure it’s alright. Stan laughs. Louis pouts.)
~
In Greek History class, Louis makes his second friend. Her name is Eleanor, and she’s beautiful like moonlight during December.
It’s kind of funny, actually, because Louis nearly trips them both on her dress. That’s that. That’s how they meet.
It’s not like Louis can help it though, right, because he’s preoccupied with analyzing the majestic paintings on the walls and Eleanor is walking in front of him with her dress genuinely dragging behind her on the marble floor, and Louis is not watching his feet, and so he steps on the silky fabric just as she’s moving, and he lets out a tiny yelp before almost falling on his ass in front of the whole room. Eleanor’s eyes widen and she stumbles a few steps before regaining her balance, looking back to glare at Louis.
Louis’ hand flies up to his mouth immediately.
“Oh, god,” he says. “I’m so terribly distracted today. I didn’t ruin your dress, right? Or did I? Please tell me I didn’t. It’s lovely, the dress. It’s very lovely.”
The elegant girl’s eyes soften a little at the sight of the winged boy’s distress.
“I’m sorry,” Louis tries again when she doesn’t answer.
“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s all good. I don’t even think you got it dirty.”
Louis sighs so deeply he almost runs out of air with relief, and pushes his fringe out of his face. He really wouldn’t like to make someone who looks as important as Eleanor does hold a grudge against him on his first day. That just wouldn’t do.
“Great. I. Yeah. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Hey, should we go get seats?”
Eleanor smiles and introduces herself when Louis looks up in surprise at her. Louis tells her his name as well, and they sit down in the middle of the room.
Louis learns very quickly that Eleanor must indeed be a big deal, because people widen their eyes when they look her way, whispering to their friends and slowing the flow of people down to get a proper look of her.
“So… What, um. What are you?” Louis asks lightly, trying to hide his curiosity behind a puffed chest. He’s slightly intimidated by the looks, even if he knows they aren’t for him. He feels small again.
“Oh. I’m Ourania’s daughter. You know, the muse?”
“The muse of astronomy?” Louis clarifies, jaw going slack.
Eleanor laughs a little. “Yeah, that would be her.”
“Wow. I mean. Wow. That’s big.”
“It does earn you a bit of extra respect,” Eleanor shrugs and grins.
Yes. She gets it. Louis' keeping her.
“I can only imagine,” he sighs wistfully. “You try being a five-foot-tall fairy and see how many people take you seriously.”
Eleanor giggles. “Well, at least you’re likeable. Pity the ones who don’t even have that.”
They banter a little back and forth until the teacher enters the classroom and starts the lesson, to which Louis instantly centers all his attention on the words coming from her. He’s determined to make a good impression on his first day, and he’s not waited for years and years to attend this school to not be a good student.
It helps a lot that Greek history is, in fact, very interesting as well; full of intrigues and drama, and Louis is deeply engrossed in the many tales. The main focus this early on is Zeus and Hera, though, and Louis has to say he does think they seem like a pretty terrible pairing.
“I don’t know if I’m allowed to say this, but what kind of love is that?” Louis whispers to Eleanor while reading on in his book afterwards. “They’re supposed to be the ruling power couple, but Zeus is unfaithful numerous times, Hera is incredibly jealous and vengeful, they argue all the time over everything and they’re extremely violent. What’s this supposed to represent?”
“The strength and importance of marriage,” Eleanor answers simply.
Louis frowns. “What kind of strength does marriage have if it’s not a happy one? Doesn’t that just make both counterparts miserable?”
“Honestly? I have no idea. It makes very little sense to me as well, but that’s what they’ve told me since I was a child.” Eleanor shrugs. “Gods are prejudiced creatures. Very dramatic, the lot of them. Controlled by only emotions. Except Eirene and her friends and helpers, maybe. And the muses. They’re nice.”
It’s so weird talking about these things with Eleanor, Louis thinks – he means, sure, his mother knows about the Gods and Goddesses of Olympus, but Eleanor, she–-she knows them. Zeus is her grandfather. That’s practically incomprehensible.
“What about love? Love is sensible, right? Nice and comforting. Isn’t the Goddess of love sensible?” That would make sense to Louis. If there is anything he thinks purer than crystal and summer breezes, it's love.
Eleanor snorts and shakes her head, though, so he might be wrong.
“Aphrodite? Sensible? I wouldn’t think so. She’s terribly self-conceited. Beautiful and mesmerizing, sure, but she’s very vain and not romantically attached to anyone, ironically enough. Zeus, when Aphrodite first came to be, got her married to Hephaestus—the god of blacksmiths and craftsmen. He’s insufferably boring and before all not considered very attractive. Zeus paired them up because he was intimidated by Aphrodite’s beauty and wanted to tie her down. She was so displeased she had affairs with tons of other Gods, and humans for that matter, to get revenge. Which I'm not exactly holding against her because what they did was awful, but you get the picture. She really doesn’t represent the romance, her son Eros does that part. She’s all passion and sex for the most part.”
Louis frowns. “They’re pretty cruel, aren’t they, the gods? And one-dimensional?”
Eleanor smiles and shakes her head. “They are, don’t get me wrong. But they are defined by the things they represent. They don’t have anything else to make them stand out. They become their most prominent trait. It’s not their fault. And besides,” she looks down at her book again. “It’s not like humankind are less cruel or violent.”
“…No?” Louis bites his lip. “I don’t—aren’t they?”
Eleanor looks straight back up again, her eyes both concerned and amused at the same time.
“Oh, love. You haven’t seen anything beyond those forests, have you?”
Louis opens his mouth to answer, preferably something snarky, but then class is dismissed and the muffled sound of closing books and turning pages are mixed with the twittering voices of students. Which is probably good, because Louis isn’t sure what he’d say. Because, he hasn’t, is the thing. He hasn’t seen the humans in any other environment than his own. And as he looks at Eleanor who talks like she’s seen it all, he feels quite embarrassed of the fact.
Eleanor just smiles again as she collects her things and pushes a strand of wavy hair behind her ear.
“You’re alright, Louis. I’ll see you around, right?”
“Yeah, course.” Louis nods. “Who knows, maybe I could use a majestic figure to earn some authority around here.”
The smile of her lips turns into a playful grin. “Maybe I could use someone short and oblivious to underline my already existing authority.”
Louis laughs a little, soft and high pitched like ringing bells. “Sounds like we’re even.”
They part ways when getting out in the hallway, and Louis dives into the masses of people, purposely smashing his wings into the ones refusing to move out of his way. It’s terribly amusing watching them stumble and angrily look around for the cause, faltering when they see Louis’ innocent smile.
No one is willing to hurt a little fairy. You get away with absolutely everything. Louis may not love his lack of intimidating energy, but that’s not to say he hasn’t been able to track down every possible perk it might provide.
~
Stan is starstruck by Eleanor’s presence from the moment they meet, and Louis finds it hilarious.
(The two of them would make quite the interesting love story, to think of it. Judging by the way Stan is looking at their new friend, he’s already making a rough draft in his head.)
The three of them quickly become friends, though, and it’s great because they’re all from different worlds and know different things and have different ways to view situations and circumstances, so discussions are never boring. They make a good team.
Eleanor knows a lot more than both Louis and Stan, though, having been around the most important Olympic Gods and all that fancy people, and she’s eager to tell them all about the escapades of Olympus. She tells them about working with her mother, mapping out stars and helping astronomers with their work. She tells them all about the different Gods and Goddesses, about the muses and growing up around that kind of creative outburst. She’s noticeably more interested in and familiar with the female creatures, which Louis thinks is fine because they overall sound like the wiser ones, anyway.
“Then we have Eris,” Eleanor continues. “And she’s Harmonia’s opposite. While Harmonia is the goddess of, you know, harmony and concord, Eris is the goddess of chaos. There’s nothing she enjoys more than creating disputes between both Gods and humans—but as long as you’re not rude or really rile her up, she probably won’t cause you any harm because she'll most likely just consider it a waste of her time. Unless she’s in a mood or something, of course. But it’s really her children you should watch out for.”
“Children?” Louis asks. Stan just nods, expression dreamy and Louis suspects he’s barely properly listening. Probably busy counting Eleanor’s eyelashes.
“Yeah. They’re many, but very… Secluded, I guess. All are spirits representing grief, oblivion, starvation, lies, that kind of stuff. Basically every negative feeling ever felt. They all live with her in Tartaros, and no sane person ever goes there except the unlucky souls who have no choice. I’ve only met two of them, I’ve met Ponos, who personifies extreme labour, and then I also met—” she suddenly purses her lips and she looks almost hostile. It’s an emotion that doesn’t suit her pure features, and Louis is immediately more interested than he’s been the entire time. “Well.”
“What?” he pushes, trying to hold back a bit of his eagerness.
“I met Harry once. Harry Styles, he wants to be called. He’s this one spirit, the only male spirit of Algos, and he’s Eris’ favorite offspring. Probably because his job, and main pleasure, in life is to cause people pain.”
“Doesn’t sound like the kind of person you’d hang out with?” Louis breathes.
“He’s not,” Eleanor wrinkles her nose in disgust. “He just goes to this school, and with both of us being from the Greek, he’s in a few of my classes. He’s getting such a special treatment it’s insane. I mean, his sisters barely even have names, but he just decided he wanted one and Eris established one for him. Just like he told her he wanted to go here. She let him without a doubt, and no one can tell him no because this place is supposed to be open to anyone that wants to come and learn. Only he doesn’t want to learn. You notice it in class so clearly—even the teachers are scared of him. He’s only here because he wants to rub the balance and cause everyone general distress.”
“Wow.” Louis rubs his right eye and raises both eyebrows. “Is he really that bad?”
“Oh yeah, Harry’s scary.” Stan opens his mouth for the first time since Eleanor started talking. “I have Human Anatomy with him. Our teacher almost cried at the end of the last class.”
Eleanor looks pointedly at Louis and nods in Stan’s direction as if to say “see?”
He’s slightly ashamed to admit it, but her hostile reaction by the mere mention of this spirit kind of just adds to Louis’ curiosity. It’s a thing with Louis; he just needs to know everything. He sucks up knowledge and experience like a sponge. And he’s never met a creature who’s even remotely this bad before, who’s so much unlike himself or anyone he knows. The closest he’s gotten to a wicked creature is Nøkken, and he’s only lethally dangerous to humans. He’s just kind of quiet and unhappy when he’s around his sort. Louis and the other fairies like to try and cheer him up with dances and music and by keeping his stream clean. It works sometimes.
So it’s not that weird, his attraction to the subject. Louis wants to meet this boy. Louis wants to know who he is and what his motives are. Louis wants to know what drives a bad spirit to be bad.
He figures Eleanor may know a few of these things and may be able to give him a bit more, if slightly biased but still, information.
“Why is he bad, though?” Louis asks.
Eleanor blinks. “Louis. Algo means pain in Greek. He’s literally created just to cause pain. He doesn’t have a reason for being malicious; it’s his nature.”
“But he must have,” Louis pushes. “Bad souls always have an experience or motive that makes them bad, right? You’re not born bad.”
“You’re adorable, Louis, really. You’re so pure.” Eleanor's tone could be taken as mocking, but she looks serious. “But I know this guy. He’d make your life a joyless abyss, just because he’d find it amusing to.”
“I don’t believe that.” Louis frowns stubbornly. “Look, you’re not born an evil soul. You wouldn’t choose to cause people pain, would you?”
Eleanor groans. “I don’t know how to put this to make it clearer. Harry was birthed by Eris. Eris is the Goddess of chaos. Eris’ children exist solely to help Eris in her assigned mission to create arguments, misfortune and pain to her surroundings. Harry is a spirit of pain. He was born to cause pain, he was born to enjoy causing pain, he was born to enjoy something that makes him a wicked soul, and he does enjoy it.” She has Louis practically nailed to the wall at this point, and something's itching just barely under Louis’ skin from the lecture. “He’s a devious creature!”
“God, fine! I get it.” Louis looks down on his hands, playing a little with his small fingers. “I just think that’s a very unfair way to think, don’t you? What if he’s actually decent, you know?”
Eleanor sighs resignedly and runs a delicate hand through her hair, and Stan answers in her place.
“Honestly, Louis, he calls himself Harry Styles. I’d assume he was a prick no matter what creature he was. Besides, you haven’t even met him,” he says. “It’s a nice thought but it doesn’t apply to him. Sorry.”
Louis snaps his head up and narrows his eyes at the tone of his friend’s voice. Stan doesn’t sound tired or defensive—he sounds condescending. He sounds like he thinks Louis is childish, and when Louis moves his eyes over to Eleanor, he can see in her eyes and purse of her mouth and her whole body language that she agrees with the faun.
And suddenly, Louis is angry. It just bubbles up, sudden and hot and unexpected, and he doesn’t even bother holding it back—he doesn’t think he has a reason to hold it back.
He might be small and kind, but he’s not a child. He’s not doing anything wrong by believing the best about people, and he doesn’t deserve to me ridiculed for being a good person. Especially not by his own friends.
“Actually,” he says icily. He can feel his wings’ fluttering pick up speed. “You’re just making me more and more curious.”
Stan looks at him alarmingly, obviously now very aware he’s set something off. “Louis—”
“I should find out more about him. I should go look after him.”
“Louis.”
“I should ask him myself.”
“I swear to—”
“I am. I’m going to look for him right now. This instant. I’m doing this.”
Eleanor and Stan exchange animated looks. Louis knows what they must think, silly baby throwing a temper tantrum, and he puffs his chest out to demonstrate his superiority. He’s so above them. He’s so above their condescension. They’re not even that important, and here they are thinking they can act all high and mighty with him.
He raises from where he was previously sitting on Eleanor’s bed, giving both of his friends a pointed look each.
“I’m leaving now.”
Eleanor’s almost… She may have been too serious to be mocking before, but she's almost looking amused at this point, which makes Louis clench his fists so hard his knuckles turn white.
“Okay,” she nods. “You do that.”
“I will.”
“Fine.”
“Great. I’ll say hi from you.”
“Please do.”
Louis just huffs before strutting out the door, coldly leaving his two alleged friends behind to consider their wrongful actions.
This is a good idea. This is him making a statement. This is Louis standing up for himself.
This is a good idea. It absolutely is.