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[personal profile] i_am_tl_dr
I wrote D&D fanfiction for the campaign I guest-starred in while I was on vacation. lol. because I'm a fucking nerd, and because my drow looks like a photo-negative Gerard Way and Sadie's halfling looks like a pint-sized Patrick Stump. SO WHY THE FUCK WOULDN'T I.

anyways... purely for mine and Sadie's amusement.


"Thanks for the well-timed rapier," Endymion said, tilting his glass to clink against Patrick's. "I would have been done for if that shadow thing laid another finger on me."

"No problem," Patrick said with a smile. They'd been handed drinks almost as soon as they walked into the Giant Mirror from the shadow realm with enough light spilling through the breach that people thought the musicians were coming back for another song. Endymion was wiped, but Patrick was still buzzing with adrenaline, and neither of them were the type to turn down the stage; they downed their drinks and wielded their instruments for one more song, a boisterous song with alternating verses they traded back and forth until Endymion had to concede that Patrick knew a lot more verses than he did and they left the stage laughing. That had been two drinks ago. The room had slowly cleared out after they finished performing, but the two of them were occupying a table close to the mirrored wall, still talking. Endymion was leaning heavily with his head propped on his hand, clearly tired but not tired enough to stop asking Patrick about what he and his companions were trying to accomplish.

"And for the lock-picking," Endymion added thoughtfully. "And the inspiration. And all the new verses of that song, is that what passes for a party game at the bardic college?"

"I can sing that song all night long," Patrick said. "I came up with two of those verses on the spot. It's absolutely a party game. It's a great way to find your alcoholic inspiration limit. There's always a drink after which you get way worse at it."

"Yeah? What's yours?"

"How much alcohol do you really think I can tolerate?" Patrick asked, amused. Endymion shrugged, grinning.

"If you don't tell me I'll just have to keep handing you drinks until I find out."

"You look like you're about to fall asleep into your half-full glass," Patrick pointed out, and Endymion waved a hand dismissively.

"Drow don't sleep. I'm fine."

"I don't think I want to let you get me drunk, either."

"Please, I'm a perfect gentleman. Nothing but the best intentions."

"That's what they all say." Endymion pressed a hand to his heart, mock-offended.

"Have I done something sketchy?"

"You know a lot of shady elves."

"I am the definition of a shady elf," Endymion said dryly, holding up one obsidian-skinned hand. "But as far as I know, I'm the only drow around here at the moment."

"I meant the other elves," Patrick said.

"You mean the impostor tiefling posing as my friend? Alhavis isn't shady when he's himself."

"Okay, fair..."

"And the other one was scouting you as talent. You should take him up on it. You'll be doing a very good deed and they'll pay you well for doing it."

"If you say it's a good gig, I have no reason to disbelieve you."

"If I had a little more range, I'd have done it myself already, but I can't manage four octaves. You've got quite a voice, though. Very impressive."

"It's in my blood," Patrick said, and Endymion arched his brows.

"Does that mean your scary-looking vampire friend could belt a few verses if he bit you?"

"I don't have enough blood in me to turn him into a competent musician, I don't think."

"Well, the strongest spirits come in the smallest shots. Though I'm used to being the shortest one around when I say that."

"You're not that short."

"I'm tall for a drow, but I'm pretty short compared to other elves. More room to grow aboveground, I guess."

"That's not how it works for halflings," Patrick said with a laugh, and Endymion laced his fingers and rested his head on his hands, head tilted slightly.

"Halflings seem to be pretty decent folks from what I've seen. Sometimes I wonder what it would have been like to grow up around decent people instead of terrifying ones."

"You don't seem terrifying," Patrick offered, and Endymion smiled.

"That's because I am an atrocious representative of my species. Torture is not one of my hobbies. Subtle, yes, I like to be subtle, but not sadistic. And sadistic is kind of a requirement if you want to make anything of yourself in the Underdark."

"How'd you come aboveground?"

"Danced with a pretty girl, thought I was about to get lucky, but she took me up instead of down. Probably a good thing I didn't try to kiss Eilistraee. That would have been super awkward. And now..." He shrugged, not lifting his head, but he looked amused. "Here I am a couple decades later, on her business. I'd tell you the whole story, but I'm afraid I'd have to hold you hostage until you wrote a proper ballad about it. Lacking a bardic college education myself, my aspirations exceed my abilities at balladeering."

"I'm a bit short on time at the moment..." Endymion snorted a laugh, and Patrick rolled his eyes good-naturedly. "But after we save the world, we should keep company for a few more days. I'd like to hear the whole story."

"Not a hardship." Endymion glanced over to where Patrick's dragonborn companion was slumped on a more distant table, surrounded by empty flagons. "I believe she promised me a look at something interesting."

"Bet I could show you something more interesting," Patrick muttered, and Endymion grinned at him.

"There's not a doubt in my mind that you could. But will you?"

"Would it be a fair trade, though?"

"Are you afraid I'm going to take advantage of you?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure if I'm afraid you will or afraid you won't," Patrick said, and Endymion sat up straighter, studying the halfling a little more intently before he tilted his head toward the stairs.

"You could figure out which one you prefer," he suggested. "I should warn you that I'm a cuddler."

"Unusual for a drow," Patrick said, and Endymion shrugged one shoulder.

"I am. And I'm pleased to be. You wouldn't like me much if I were usual for a drow."

"I like you pretty well the way you are."

"I like you pretty well too. Is it racist to tell a halfling that they're cute? Cause you're really cute, but I don't want to offend you."

"I'll let it slide," Patrick said dryly, and he finished his drink off and set the glass down with a clink. "So... how interesting is tonight going to get?"

"That's your call," Endymion said. "For whatever it's worth, I have a room upstairs and I'm feeling the pull to lie down on something soft."

"I thought you said drow don't sleep."

"We don't, but we're still hedonists." He swept his pearly hair back from his face as he stood up. "If you feel like coming with, I'm sure there's room for both of us..."

"You'd be surprised by how much room I can take up when I have a mind to," Patrick said. "Well. I guess you'll find out shortly," he added as he hopped out of his seat. Endymion beamed at him as they headed upstairs, both of them curious to see what the other one had in mind once they got behind a closed door.

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