Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Taking a stroll in the early August heat was one thing. Moving furniture in mid-day, when the sun was prone to getting in your eyes and destroying your vision? That was another thing entirely.

Morgan tried not to audibly huff and puff as she helped Devin unload her car. And wasn’t that the kicker—why was she the one “helping” if it was her car and these were her dorm decorations? But she knew she wasn’t capable of lifting all of the boxes entirely alone, especially not if she wanted to avoid death by smackdown with an anxious mother.

So helping move her own possessions it was.

As they took the elevator up to her room—and she tried not to visibly cringe at the ominous creaking sounds it kept making for fear that Devin would try to talk her out of this again—, she crossed her fingers, hoping her roommate would be cool. Honestly, she’d take normal at this point; anything would be a pleasant change from the MBRC’s mayhem.

They found the room. Two sticky notes on the door helpfully marked off the occupants: Morgan L. Fae and Brittanica Arthurs.

Morgan winced. “Looks like we’re going to be getting plenty of comments from anyone who’s opened a book on this campus. Anyone who meets both of us at once, at least.”

“I dunno,” Devin said with his usual carefree grin, which was far less distracting than he seemed to think it was, “maybe you’ll have something to bond over, hm?”

She hummed noncommittally, then set her first stack down on the empty desk to the left. “Looks like she beat me here.”

“And I thought we were going to get to have a fun conversation with the new in-laws,” Devin teased.

“They’re not in-laws. They’re my roommate’s parents. Besides, we don’t even know if they’ll be here.”

“Well… you kind of do.”

“Kind of. I don’t have anyone but you helping me, remember?”

“And whose fault is that?” He made a face. She had fought tooth and nail—well, resorted to bribery was more accurate—to make Madeline and Hunter keep the rest of her MBRC crew from road-tripping their way to her new college campus. The sheer amount of work involved was far more than she wanted to think about; Morgan could practically feel a phantom headache at the thought.

“Most students are normal. If the all-knowing writers of google.com know anything, it’s that parents…” Devin trailed off mid-rant.

New voices echoed down the hall, breaking their conversation. Morgan thought about trying not to eavesdrop, but this could be one of her new neighbors, so she decided nosiness was the wisest choice here. She couldn’t catch much clearly, but it sounded as though there was some sort of debate over rooming and possibly a job? Whoever it was, it didn’t sound like they were having the best day.

Two people appeared in the doorway, still going at it with whatever debate they were having. The woman was a fellow blonde, Morgan noted. But though they looked a bit similar at first glance, she carried herself differently. Morgan couldn’t put a name on what it was, but something about this gal felt like power to her. It was kind of like how Hunter seemed at first, or Devin, though this was a bit milder than the magical influences they used. The man’s posture looked similar, and with his light hair, she supposed they might be siblings if not for his hand on her back.

Morgan hoped they weren’t siblings. That would be awkward all around.

This, everybody, is why you don’t play Siblings or Dating.

Devin apparently had had enough of being ignored, coughing audibly enough that Morgan was sure it had to hurt. “Excuse me, who are you?”

“Oh, yes, right,” the woman said, extending a hand to Devin. “I’m Britt.”

He nodded. Britt turned to her then. “And you must be Morgan, I presume?”

“Yep,” Morgan confirmed. Britt stared at her—a hard stare, the kind that made most people tend to squirm and spill embarrassing childhood stories. Unsure why she was getting a once-over like this, Morgan waited. Do I look like trouble? Great. She looked over at Devin, trying to signal for help. How do you react when a human does this? When imagining her first interaction with her roommate, panicking and trying to recall her own classes on human behavior was nowhere on the list, believe it or not.

Shockingly, Devin was absolutely zero help. He just chuckled quietly, shaking his head at her obviously stupid reaction.

After the whole evaluation thing was over, Britt smiled and nodded. “I think this will do nicely,” she said to her companion.

Well, Morgan officially gave up guessing. Maybe sizing up people was normal in college. “Do you need help bringing another load in?” she asked, glancing at the right side of the room.

Britt may have gotten here earlier, though not by much considering that move-in started twenty minutes prior. It looked like they must have been distracted trying to unpack as they went—rookie mistake, Morgan stopped doing that after helping Lyssa move the first time—but even though the space was almost entirely bare, there was only one more box left near Britt’s desk.

“Oh no, this should be everything,” Britt said with another smile. Alright, minimalist roomie it was. Fingers crossed that she wouldn’t mind the excessive amount of posters Morgan had packed, she gave a little salute to the room, grabbed Devin’s arm, and whisked him away to fetch another load of boxes.

Hours later and down to her last couple boxes, Morgan flopped on her bed, boneless. Man, she was exhausted.

She couldn’t stop wondering how college would go, either, so she doubted she’d manage sleep any time soon. Luckily, the whole rush situation held no appeal to her. But the clubs and orientation activities… those would soon take up all her time. And who knew what Britt’s plans were?

No, if she wanted to make connections before everything went insane, she would need to start soon. Her new mission to spend at least a year of college as ordinarily as possible started today, but the friend-making step? Morgan would have to start first thing tomorrow.

—————

They stood alone in the hall, studying one another carefully under flickering fluorescent lights. Their minds still lingered behind in the small dorm room where they each left someone they held dear.

A spark of recognition. The dark-haired man grinned, watching for the other’s reaction. The slow but sure nod was all he needed.

A moment passed.

They walked away, but the Trickster and the Wizard knew they would return. And oh, what fun this would be.

Chapter Text

Britt was doomed. Absolutely, positively destined to fail. Why oh why had she taken Lancelot up on his bet?

It was one thing for her to want a college degree. She had been thrust into the role of king with very little warning and no political training to speak of. Of course she wanted a degree before she took over Avalon full-time. That was the sane choice.

Pretending to be a normal college student was the real stupid idea. Britt resolved to avoid drinking with Lancelot for at least a decade. Or maybe a few years. However long it took for her to avoid another mess like the one she was currently sprinting into full-tilt.

Merlin had tried to talk her out of it repeatedly, restarting the debate every trip from car to dorm room. He trotted out the same tired points he and Kay had given over and over and over again since she had been accepted into university. She “already had a job and plenty of experience” and “what about the rest of her men?” She couldn’t leave them to handle themselves wisely on their own, apparently. Doubtful.

It was far more likely that Merlin wanted her close for sentimental reasons. And Kay? He was doubtless trying to protect her, an act she might appreciate if it wasn’t also utterly foolish. She ruled England. She fought wars. College would be fine.

Probably.

Admittedly, it really wasn’t the most thought out—

No. She would be fine. She had to be. She could fool the rest of the students that she was ordinary. No fae influence here at all; the mere suggestion of Britt as abnormal would seem prepostorous.

At least Morgan seemed dependable. She stood strong in the face of scrutiny, looked to her ally, but ultimately bore the study alone. Britt would prefer a bit more trust between her own men, of course, but Morgan could do as she liked.

More importantly, Morgan was about to become Britt’s refresher on typical modern behavior. A roommate was the key, Britt had decided. If she wanted to fool everyone on campus into thinking her utterly ordinary, who better to mimic than her greatest challenge: Morgan?

Oh, Morgan wasn’t suspicious at the moment, but who was more prepared to send a knife into her side than the woman with constant access to her?

But enough strategizing; Britt needed to begin her messages. While some of her knights grasped instant messaging and electronic mail, many of them preferred physical messages, particularly to keep in touch. Knowing her men, Britt had arranged for her desk to function as a clear space for drafting letters. She had even splurged on a new wax melter since candles were banned in the dorms. (Inconvenient, but not impossible to work around.)

After sending off a few quick missives to Bedivere and Lancelot, the latter far more scathing than usual, she decided to take a stroll around campus. While modern luxuries still delighted her, the utter separation between the natural world and daily life was jarring.

As Britt gathered the necessary items for her short trip, her roommate returned to their shared room. The lack of separate quarters would take some getting used to. “Hey, Britt! Where are you headed?” Morgan said, gesturing to the small bag packed with snacks, water, and keys.

“Oh, you know—“ she shouldered the bag— “out and about.”

Morgan nodded. “I get it. I wish I could get out in nature more often, but I’m from Chicago, so… not the best spot for outdoor excursions. Y’know, not unless you feel up for cloudy with a chance of stabbing.”

Okay, then bring a knife. Or better yet, a sword and some sort of armor to protect the essentials, Britt thought. She didn’t know if she was supposed to respond like that, so she stayed quiet.

A moment too long, then she asked, “Would you like to join me?”

“On a hike?” Morgan’s eyes widened. “I, um, I actually am really worn out from all that unloading and reloading and unpacking from yesterday, plus I have no idea where my hiking boots are—“

“It’s just a short walk. Y’know—” Britt smiled, trying her best to mimic Morgan’s earlier speech pattern. Normal, Britt, normal. “—just to familiarize ourselves with campus. Stretch our legs.”

Morgan slowly nodded. “Okay. I think I can manage that.”

—————

Britt may have underestimated the frailty of the modern adult body.

They had made it perhaps a mile and a half before the noises Morgan made started to truly alarm Britt. Their conversation had started out fine enough, but trailed off as they began admiring the scenery. By the time they reached the athletic fields, though, the calm of nature gave way to desperate wheezing noises.

“Are you alright?” Britt asked, brow furrowed. She was unfamiliar with asthma, not having seen it herself. Is this an asthma attack? “Where is your medicine?” She demanded.

“My what?” To Britt’s annoyance, Morgan only looked bewildered and more wearied.

“Your medicine. Quickly, where do you keep it?”

“I mean, I have a decongestant in my purse, but what do you mean, medicine? I’m fine.”

Britt spluttered. “You’re near to collapse, so no, you’re not fine. Do you have a lung disorder or something? Asthma or whatever you call it.”

Morgan had the audacity to roll her eyes. “I don’t have asthma,” she said slowly, as though Britt was a child, “I’m just out of shape.”

“Your limbs are all present and you have a fine shape, Morgan.”

“No, no,” Oh dear, I’ve really bungled it now, “I mean I haven’t worked out in the past few months, especially not longer cardio-intensive activities like this.” Britt wanted to ask for a refresher on cardio-intensive but decided this wasn’t the time. Instead, she simply nodded along, choosing not to ask any more questions.

After they made it back to the dorms, taking numerous breaks along the way, Britt determined that her new roommate and (hopefully) friend was in need of thorough protection. After all, she couldn’t fare well in a knife fight and was unable to complete a short walk. What are they teaching people these days?

Chapter Text

Morgan looked over at her alarm. Oh, for the love of— She scrambled out of bed, yanking on clothes even as she knew she was totally late. Again.

The orientation leaders had to be some kind of secret psycho killers plotting their revenge for something she did to them in a past life. Or maybe they were vampires again. Taking a break from the MBRC only to fall into the crazy Florida version? Now that would be the kicker.

They probably have gator people, she thought as she sprinted to "Peer Socialization" (she thought that was what they called it), pausing only to hike her bag further up her shoulder. It was bad enough she had to run with a backpack on; if anyone saw her wearing it properly, she might actually die. Practically, she could recover. Socially? Not worth it.

Morgan skidded into the group standing awkwardly on the campus’s green. They would have been harder to spot if it wasn’t for the orientation team leaders, who were decked out in all neon for some inexplicable reason. Maybe it was trendy, though—she wasn’t the best at keeping tabs on that.

One of them—a girl with impressively well-styled hair and is that war paint? Okay then… clapped. “Alrighty, y’all! Everyone ready for some—drumroll now…”

No one drummed.

“…teambuilding activities!”

We’re not going to be a team, though, are we? She thought, half-crazed. This is just supposed to be How To Make Friends 101. Networking! I should know—I’ve taught the class myself. Morgan had stepped away from the MBRC to get a break from needless group work, not more of the stuff. It was no fun, obviously. What, are we gonna fight the other orientation teams for a trophy? The prize had better be cash—and a lot of it.

Just please not— “We’re starting with a human pyramid!” …that. Of course we start with something physical.

Mentally grumbling about not normally being physically incapable of this kind of thing, Morgan began stretching and half-heartedly tuned into the discussion over how to best build a pyramid formation. Two of the freshmen seemed particularly vocal. There was a girl wearing perhaps the least functional clothes for physical activity imaginable—and Morgan knew enough magical folks to know how far that could go. She spoke with careful enunciation, drawn out with a drawl that somehow made Morgan feel dense.

Her opponent was equally relentless. The guy looked like he believed in the power of gyms to fix his problems, but he definitely wasn’t a student athlete if he was in their group of undeclared majors and humanities folks. Morgan had to give it to him; the guy was putting up a good fight against Ms. Fashionably Questionable, but she was clearly stumping him like the rest of the group. It was just taking a little longer, but she seemed patient.

Honestly, it was a bit like watching a python work. She had seen the videos back in high school.

Actually, this might be worse.

Luckily, Morgan didn’t have to pay attention anyway, because she spotted someone much more interesting. Britt was walking by, looking like she was on a mission. Hopefully nothing was going too terribly wrong.

“Britt,” Morgan called. She waved aggressively, motioning for her to join. Britt shook her head slowly, but Morgan wasn’t giving up that easily. She’s cool and I need more connections anyway, she reasoned, and this isn’t exactly fun… or graded. So who cares if it’s disorganized? She ignored the little teacher-voice in the back of her head that complained about the added chaos and that it would be a nightmare to rein back in now. It was fine.

Rolling her eyes, Morgan went and physically dragged Britt over to meet the group. “Come on, you know you want to make friends, right? And these guys don’t bite.” And I need backup. You’re saner than the team leaders, probably, so you’re stuck with me now, buddy. Britt looked like she wanted to grab something—pepper spray, maybe? But who knew, honestly—but stood rigidly anyway.

Ms. Fashion walked over, giving Britt a once over so scathing that Morgan cringed sympathetically. She stuck out a hand. “Welcome, I’m so glad you’re here!”

Morgan made a mental note that normal humans could smile menacingly after all. Madeline would be so pleased to learn she was right. Yeesh, that’s creepy in person. Maybe Morgan would wait to let her know. Society could use less of whatever energy this chick had going on.

Britt took her hand, shaking it without breaking eye contact, which was possibly the only thing that was even more intimidating than the oddly toothy grin from before.

Nope, not letting that escalate. Morgan grabbed Britt by the shoulders, yanked sharply to the side, and began to push her away from Ms. Fashion before things got weirder.

“Alrighty, so—“ Britt’s heels were putting up more resistance than anticipated, so Morgan put more force into rerouting her roommate— “the challenge is simple. We just need your help building a human pyramid.”

Britt raised an eyebrow. “Dead or alive?”

“Ha, ha, very funny,” Morgan scoffed, “but you know what I mean.”

“…Okay.”

“As you can see, we currently have about half of the pyramid built—although this is admittedly way closer to a triangle, but it’s the spirit of the thing, right?—and we just need to decide how best to put the rest of the people onto the pyramid without any permanent injuries,” Morgan explained, gesturing loosely at the assorted freshmen huddled together. Currently, the dedicated “base” people were in position, with one pipsqueak of a girl ready on the second row.

“So I’m thinking we can group by weight class and general fitness to decide who can support more or less. Luckily we have exactly the ri—“

Morgan was airborne.

That was new.

“—ghugh.”

She was also speechless, which was even newer.

More people landed on top, each tossed up by a seemingly peaceful Britt. Okay, the gym is becoming more important than anything. It’s one thing to be out of shape; worse, I didn’t know that this was normal! She would need to ask Britt’s workout routine when her lungs weren’t halfway crushed by a stranger’s elbow.

The last person piled on top, Britt stepped back, looking as cool as ever. It was infuriating, honestly. Ms. Fashion called out, “Well, it looks like we have a pyramid.”

A chorus of groans and grumbles filled the air.

Everyone rolled and crawled their way out of the heap. Once Morgan escaped, she walked over to Britt and attempted a high-five. It didn’t land.

Morgan shrugged. Eh, she would earn her cool points eventually.

The girls started walking away from the orientation event. Well, Morgan was trying to make her escape, but same difference, right? “So that was way weirder than I thought it would be. Don’t you agree? That was lame, right?”

“It’s college orientation.”

“I don’t have a flying clue what that’s supposed to mean.”

“It’s for kids.”

Morgan considered it for a moment, then shrugged. “Maybe. It depends on what you think of eighteen-year-olds. But yeah, it’s a little childish, I guess.” Wait. She bounced on the balls of her feet. “Change of plans: let’s go get ice cream.”

“Hypocrite.”

“Buzzkill.”

Operation Make New Friends and Be Social could wait. After all, there was ice cream to be had and a new roommate to annoy.