Master and Mage

By Sam Davidson

Disclaimer: Susan Cooper graced the world with these characters, and we mortals may only pick them up and play with them, putting them back gratefully when we are done.

A/N: I apologize sincerely for the horrendously long delay in updating. It seems what inspiration I have tends to come in fits and starts (not to mention classwork and other little, unimportant things like that). Hopefully the next update will not take nearly as long, though I admit I can't make promises. Thanks for your patience.

This story is slash. If you have a problem with that, then do not read it. Or do, but don't get mad at me if it offends your homophobic sensibilities. For the rest of you: enjoy!

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Chapter Five: Moving-in day

According to the sociologist Erving Goffman, when your working definition of a social interaction gets thrown out the window, you tend to freeze. You no longer have a script to follow, nothing to tell you what to do. Having read a bit of Goffman, it occurred to Will that this was one of these moments.

"Yes, that's my name," Bran responded. "How do you—"

But then Will put down the box. A slow look of recognition crept over the Welsh boy's face. "Will. Duw. I… Are you…?

"Well, fancy meeting you here," Will said, a little too brightly. He forced a smile. What have I gotten myself into? "It's sure been a while."

"Yeah, it has. I had no idea you were coming here, I… Well, I suppose I didn't really have any way of knowing, did I?"

Bloody hell, thought Will. Of all the places I could have ended up going to school… Out of all the places he could have ended up going to school. Why? What's he even studying here? Then he remembered, from the interview of the previous year: the harp. "Have you got your harp in your room, then?" he asked.

"Yes, it's—wait, how did you know I was studying music?"

Watch it, Will! Don't let down your guard. "Oh, I, umm, I just meant that maybe you'd brought it along. I didn't know that you were actually studying music officially. I mean, how could I?"

Bran gave him a piercing look, and was about to say something else when a voice from behind Will interrupted him. "Excuse me, do you think you could move your box out of the way so I can get through?"

"Oh, sorry. Didn't see you there," Will replied. "Umm, Bran, do you think I could just shove this in your room for a second so that, uh…"

"Robbie?" the boy offered.

"Right, so that Robbie can get by?"

"Sure," said Bran, holding the door open with one hand as he extended the other toward the boy named Robbie, reaching over Will, who was bent over his box. "I'm Bran, by the way." Robbie took his hand and shook it. "Oh, and that one there," he gestured with his chin, "is Will."

"You know each other? I mean, from before…"

Will looked up just in time to see Bran glance quickly down at him. He gave the box one more shove into the room and stood up, brushing his hands off on his trousers. "Yeah, we were, umm, friends when we were kids." Bran nodded in agreement. "Just met each other here, though—I had no that Bran was coming." He forced a smile, as if to say, What a coincidence! There was a pause, as each of them realised they really didn't have anything else to say.

"Well," Robbie broke the silence, "I should go bring the rest of my stuff up to my room. I'll see you around!" He set off down the hall, and Will turned to go back into Bran's room. It was sparse, he saw, even more so than he remembered Bran's room in his house to be. There were none of the posters of favourite football teams or bands, none of the cluttered knick-knacks and school supplies that seemed ubiquitous in all the other dormitory rooms he had peered into. Only the harp, standing alone in the corner and seeming oddly out of place, and what looked like a second hand electric typewriter on the desk. What did Bran care about? What went on in his head? Will found himself desperately wanting to know, but he knew instinctively that none of his powers as an old one would be able to tell him. If he wanted to discover who Bran Davies really was, he would have to reach out to him on a human level, a skill that didn't come as easily to Will as it had in the first eleven years of his life.

"You all right, Will?" Bran's voice coming from behind startled him, and he wondered how long he had been standing in the doorway looking in.

"Yeah, I was just… Here, let me get this out of your way." He reached down, hefted the box up, and stepped with it back out into the hallway. "I've got to get this to my room. I'll see you later."

"See you," replied Bran. Will set off down the hallway, looking back just in time to see Bran's door swing shut.