Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Keith Lowell didn’t used to believe in love at first sight before, but that was before he transferred to Augeforth Adventuring Academy and set his eyes on her. That was before he saw her, blonde and cute and full of elven grace.

He heard someone call her Adaine.

She was quiet, as far as Keith could tell. She spent her time reading and studying, but Keith liked smart quiet girls who didn’t run their mouths about makeup. She even carried a sword with her.

Keith paid extra attention to his paladin classes whenever the instructors pulled out swords. Maybe he could teach her how to use it. She didn’t look like someone who knew how to swing with her hips.

He was still thinking about hips when he sat down with Greg at lunch and the topic drifted over to girls.

“Hey man,” Greg said, “I know you just transferred, but do you have your eye on anyone yet?”

Keith smiled. “Sure do. Blonde, elf, cute… I think her name is Adaine?”

Greg narrowed his eyes. “Adaine Abernant? The wizard?”

“Yeah. What can I say? I like them quiet.”

Greg scanned the lunch hall, as if he were searching for her, and leaned in.

“You cannot date Adaine Abernant,” he hissed.

“Like hell I can’t, dude.” Keith motioned to himself. “This face don’t lose. The only guy I’ve seen her with is fucking Briefcase Kid, and he hasn’t grown since I knew him in middle school. He doesn’t stand a chance against me.”

“Dude, the last person who tried with her disappeared,” Greg said.

“What?”

“My friend went out with a dude in the AV club, and he told her about this senior, Biz. He tried asking her out, and then no one heard from him again. And she and the rest of her adventuring party went to jail for months.”

Keith scoffed. “What, you think she killed him because he asked her out?”

“Dunno. I heard that Briefcase Kid shot his fingers off, one by one.”

“So Briefcase Kid is the fucking freak.”

“Nah, it’s not just him. On our first day of school, Adaine killed the lunch lady.”

“The lunch lady?” Keith echoed. “That’s bullshit.”

“It’s true,” Greg said. “She didn’t use spells or anything. She brained her with her own fucking ladle.”

“Bullshit!”

“Dude, which of us went here then? We had a schoolwide assembly on the second day of school over it. Ask anyone.”

Keith shrugged.

“So she’s a bad girl. I can dig it. She got a boyfriend?”

“No,” Greg said, “because no one’s asked her out since.”

“So no one’s been man enough to try,” Keith said with a smile. “Bet she’s lonely. None of the guys here have had the balls to show her a good time.”

“If you want to ask her out, it’s your funeral,” Greg sighed. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’m sure we’ll laugh about it together on our first date,” Keith said.

“No.”

Keith licked his lips. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

“You want to ask me out,” Adaine said.

“Well, yeah, but-”

“I’m not interested.”

She turned to walk away, as if that was the end of the conversation. Keith grabbed her arm.

“Hey, you can’t just walk away without hearing me out!”

He expected her to turn, purse her lips, and hear him out. She did turn.

The breath left Keith’s lungs and his ribs caught on fire. His head smacked against the sidewalk. Adaine stood above him with the follow-up form of a punch.

She knew how to move her hips after all.

“Everything okay?” Keith heard Briefcase Kid ask from outside of his haze of pain as Sol’s light flowed from his hands onto his busted rib and throbbing skull. Breathing hurt too much to groan in pain.

“It was nothing,” she said as she readjusted her denim jacket.

“Sure he’s not another Biz?”

Adaine turned. Keith could only see a hint of her slightly feral grin from where he lay prone.

“Save your bullets,” she said in that pretty, posh accent.

Briefcase Kid shrugged. “Basrar’s? I’ll buy you one.”

“Thank you.”

He smiled at her, and they walked away like Keith had never been there.

Keith groaned. Greg was right. Adaine was a bad girl.

Chapter Text

Hunter O’Ryan never thought he would get detention, but it was where he sat. His only companion, other than the teacher, who barely gave him a second glance as he shuffled into his seat, was a loud-colored firbolg with bowling shoes. Hunter did a double-take.

The kid gave him a friendly wave.

“First time in detention?”

Hunter nodded.

“Take a seat,” the head of the detention called. She didn’t look up from the book in her hand. Hunter didn’t recognize her, but he was still just a freshman.

The empty classroom where the detention was held offered a wide arrangement of seats. The firbolg sat front and center, but every other seat was wide and open.

Choosing the far back corner was too far. The teacher might consider it too far from her supervising gaze and thus suspicious. However, choosing one off from the back corner was far away enough that Hunter wouldn’t have to talk with the firbolg or any other students who might have gotten detention, but close enough that it didn’t look like he was trying to do something nefarious.

Hunter slunk into his chosen seat and put his backpack under his chair. He glanced up at the teacher. Would she disapprove?

Before she could comment, the classroom door swung open.

“Hey, Jawbone!” a voice shouted. “Wait- Jawbone’s sick. Duh. Who are you?”

Hunter looked up. He knew who that voice belonged to. Everyone in the school did.

Figueroth Faeth strode into the classroom like it was a party that she wasn’t invited to. He snuck a glance at her legs. There- just like the rumors- a single half-fishnet stocking. Did she really take it from the body of her first kill?

Hunter looked away before she could catch him staring.

“Take a seat, Figueroth.”

Even the substitute knew her. She didn’t even ask for her detention slip.

Hunter gathered his courage to sneak another peak. Figueoth plopped down two seats from him, put her feet up on the desk, and began shooting texts from her crystal.

He spent the next two minutes desperately trying not to stare and failing miserably. When she slipped her crystal back into her pocket, Hunter made up his mind. He would just ask her what she did to get detention. It was a perfectly innocuous question.

“Is it true you went to jail?” he asked instead.

Three pairs of eyes snapped onto Hunter. Hunter looked down and desperately wished for his patron to swallow him whole.

Then he realized four pairs of eyes had snapped onto him.

The fourth pair was a fiery inferno under a flaming mohawk. He forced himself to calm down and realize that she wasn’t angry, she was just covered in fire. She was also the most beautiful woman Hunter had ever seen: tall and muscular, with a sharp nose and even sharper movements.

“You’ve been to jail, Figueroth?”

The woman walked right past the substitute teacher and leaned over Figueroth, who greeted her with a peck on the lips.

Because of course Figueroth would have a girlfriend who objectively embodied the word ‘hot.’

“Hi, Ayda. And yeah, in freshman year, back when your dad was dead, we got arrested for stealing a car and killing some people… oh, remember the people we fought in hell? On the Goldenrod?”

Even the substitute had put down her book to listen to her story.

“Yes, I remember,” Ayda said. “There was the homophobic coach and the prom queen,” Ayda said.

“Yeah! Well, we hadn’t killed Penelope yet. Anyway, since your dad wasn’t around to hypnotize people, we were in jail for a few months for doing adventuring stuff.”

“Wait,” the firbolg said. He looked at Ayda. “Principal Augefort is your dad? He has a daughter?”

“Yes,” Ayda said in a very manner-of-fact manner. “According to Fig, our blood relation grants me the right to access any room in the school at all times.”

Fig preened.

“That being said, this is detention,” the teacher said. “I need your detention slips.”

Ayda looked at Fig again.

“Detention is a punishment, correct? Did you do something that warrants punishment? Will this mean we cannot spend time together like you planned?”

“Oh, that’s right! I didn’t ditch bard class today, and Jawbone’s not here, so I don’t even need to be in detention today.” Fig rose to her feet, grabbed her bag, and slipped her arm around Ayda in one fluid motion. “Let’s go, my incubus.”

Not a single person blinked as Figeroth Faeth strode out of the room with the principal’s daughter on her arm.

The door closed behind them. All was silent for a solid minute.

“Did she say they’ve been to hell?” the substitute finally asked.