#but it is very annoying to see white scholars position themselves as somehow better at studying chinese art history than chinese scholars

[aahsoka]

kinda tired of reading articles about chinese art history written by white men

[demonsigh]

the vampire hunter

rating: orange/pg pairing: male vampire x male human features: drunken antics, in vino veritas, enemies to lovers warnings: blood, throwing up length: 2434 words

A very hungry vampire takes care of a very drunk vampire hunter. Based on this prompt submitted to @monsterkinkmeme​

There were many undeniable perks that came with being a vampire, and several of them lent themselves well to scholarly pursuits. Ellis had an infallible memory for names, dates, and quotations. He had excellent night vision, which made candles unnecessary for reading in the dark. And whereas the research of mere men spanned decades at most, Ellis had pursued his studies for centuries.

But immortality had not cured him of the bad habits he’d developed as a human academic. Sometimes he became so absorbed in his work that he went for weeks without feeding, without realizing, until he would look up from a book and be suddenly crushed by a hunger so strong that it hurt. As a vampire, this was not only unhealthy, but dangerous. He posed no threat to errant humans if he kept himself well-fed, but when he was starving, sometimes his self-control slipped.

He wouldn’t have called himself “starving” tonight, but he was hungrier than he thought was responsible. He planned out a hunting trip in his head while he packed necessities into a small leather bag. He always travelled far to feed, and never dipped into the surrounding hamlets. He found that the locals tolerated him as long as he kept his distance, even if they found him strange or had their suspicions about his true nature. He was careful not to upset this uneasy peace. A mob of frightened humans could be just as deadly as a vampire.

A loud knock sounded at the front door. Ellis paused in the act of packing, then heaved an enormous sigh. He thought briefly about slipping out the window and avoiding this encounter altogether, but he told himself that it wouldn’t be very sportsmanlike.

The person at the door was almost certainly Nicholas Golding, a vampire hunter of mild renown who’d been pursuing Ellis for months. They’d met abroad, on one of Ellis’s hunting trips, and since then they’d developed something of a rivalry.

“St. Claaaaiiiirrrr!” It was Nicholas, growing impatient at the door. “I have you this time, you devil!”

Ellis rolled his eyes, wondering if he could convince Nicholas to postpone the match until next week. Not likely.

He opened the front door to find a sword pointed in his face, the tip wobbling in clumsy little circles as if trying to find the perfect spot to stab.

“You’re mine now, St. Clair.” Nicholas swayed in place as he spoke, fighting to keep his footing. It was to his credit that his sword arm stayed as steady as it was.

“Golding,” said Ellis, as he pushed the sword aside with his hand, “you’re drunk. Go home.”

Nicholas laughed loudly. “You know even half-dead I’m more than a match for you.”

Ellis privately conceded the point. Nicholas was an arrogant prick, but he fought like a demon. He was incredibly skilled with a sword, resourceful, creative, and insufferable in his tenacity. Even drunk, he was a much more challenging opponent than any of the stooges the Church sent after him.

But Ellis had never seen Nicholas this drunk. The man positively reeked of ale, speech slurred, gaze unfocused, cheeks flushed an appealing shade of red. It was a wonder he’d made it up to the castle without falling off a cliff.

“Anyway,” said Nicholas, lowering his sword. He attempted to sheath it, but couldn’t manage to align the tip with the opening. He let the sword fall to the steps with a clatter instead, then looked back up at Ellis with a dashing, lopsided smile. “The innkeeper kicked me out. Let me stay the night, will you?”

“Are you out of your mind?” asked Ellis, scowling. He was far too hungry for a guest; particularly one who’d just held him at swordpoint. He was sure he had every right to slam the door in this man’s face.

But what would Nicholas do instead? Sleep drunk in a ditch? He’d be robbed blind by bandits if the wolves didn’t get to him first. Something in Ellis recoiled from the thought.

“I’ll sleep on the sofa,” Nicholas slurred. “You won’t even know I’m there.”

“Why not take the bed?” asked Ellis, sarcastic, but somehow he found himself stepping aside to make way. “It’s unoccupied at night, of course.”

A flicker of surprise crossed Nicholas’s face as Ellis invited him in. Then he reassumed his cheerful smirk and staggered over the threshold. “I knew I could count on you, St. Clair, you’re a gentleman and a scholar.”

“Yes, well, your timing has always been terrible,” said Ellis. “No sense turning you away now.”

Nicholas grinned and opened his mouth to fire off a retort, lost his footing, and went crashing down face-first onto the flagstone floor.

“Damn!” he said, snickering to himself. He struggled and failed to push himself up. Ellis sighed.

“Idiot,” he muttered, while he bent down to help. He grabbed an arm and heaved Nicholas to his feet, then gasped as he held him upright, knees buckling. It wasn’t the weight — Ellis had superhuman strength, after all. It was the smell. It was the man’s blood, rushing thick and hot beneath his skin. It was mouthwatering.

Oh I’m in hell, thought Ellis. Nicholas Golding was the last person on earth he wanted to drink from. But now the man’s whole warm weight was pressed against him and Ellis was suddenly ravenous. His mouth was inches from Nicholas’s neck.

He pinched his lips shut and held his breath as he half-carried the drunken fool to the bedroom and dumped him on the bed as gently as he could manage. Then he grabbed his leather bag and slipped away. Now that the hunter was taken care of, he could go about his own hunting in peace.

But he hesitated halfway out the door, plagued by niggling worries. Nicholas had barely been able to stand. How much had he had to drink? Was it safe to leave him like this? He didn’t want to come home to a week-old corpse.

Ellis wasn’t a monster, no matter what the neighbors thought. But he was a vampire. He was strong, and fast, and that was putting it mildly. He almost always emerged the victor from their little duels. And of course it had occurred to him to just kill Nicholas and be done with him once and for all. But that simply wasn’t how Ellis did things. And so, after every defeat, he left Nick Golding alive. That fact alone seemed to gall the man more than anything else; his pride had clearly suffered the worst wounds.

But over time, Ellis had sensed a corresponding reluctance that puzzled him. This came to a head one evening when their skirmish was interrupted by another hunter — one from the Church — inserting himself into the fight. The poor man hadn’t been anywhere near their league, but the distraction had given Nicholas an advantage. He managed to pin Ellis. He had his blade pressed against his throat. Ellis saw the flash of triumph in his eyes, before — nothing. Nicholas withdrew the blade. He let Ellis escape.

That was when Ellis realized that, somehow, their relationship had changed. Nicholas didn’t want Ellis dead. He wanted to defeat him, fair and square. They were fighting for sport.

Did that make them friends? He wasn’t sure. All he knew was that he felt an annoying but undeniable concern for the man passed out drunk in his bed. And so, against his better judgment, he turned around and trudged back to the bedroom.

He stopped dead in the doorway. Nicholas was sitting up on the edge of the bed, gingerly fingering his nose, and blood was streaming from one of his nostrils.

“Think I broke my nose when I fell…” he muttered.

“Clean yourself up, you fool!” Ellis hissed, recoiling from the sight. Nicholas looked up with wide eyes, startled and bewildered.

“Oh— damn,” he said, as realization seemed to strike. He pulled an appallingly dirty handkerchief from his pocket and made a clumsy attempt to mop up the blood. It was hardly effective, but Ellis appreciated the effort.

“Better?” Nicholas asked, having the nerve to look cheerful, but his face fell when he saw the condition that Ellis was in. “Are you alright?” he asked, almost whispering.

Ellis was not alright. He wanted, ferociously, to drink Nicholas’s blood. He gripped the door frame with white-knuckled hands, struggling to compose himself, afraid to imagine what kind of expression was on his face.

Alarmed, Nicholas tried to rise, stumbled, fell to his knees, then picked himself back up unsteadily.

“Don’t come any closer,” Ellis warned.

Nicholas seemed ready to ignore the warning, but then he paused.

“Wait…” he asked, squinting across the room. “Are you drunk too?”

“Of course not,” Ellis snapped. He looked away, and without thinking, he said, “I’m starving.”

Nicholas froze, and a silence hung heavy between them. He sat back down on the bed. Ellis shut his eyes, trying to find some untapped well of resolve before he made a terrible mistake.

“You could drink from me,” Nicholas said.

The vampire’s eyes snapped open. He was sure that Nicholas was making a tasteless joke, but when he looked he saw nothing playful in the man’s face.

“Do you want to drink from me?” he asked again, as if Ellis hadn’t heard.

“You don’t know what you’re asking,” said Ellis hoarsely.

“Course I do. I’ve spoken with some of your victims. They don’t make it sound so bad.” He flashed one of his roguish smiles, and Ellis scowled in response. What was he thinking? Did he see this as another sort of absurd challenge? Let the vampire have his way with you and live to tell the tale?

He would never tell the tale if he knew what was good for him. For a vampire hunter, to be bitten was a terrible disgrace.

Nicholas’s nosebleed had slowed considerably by then, and the smell of fresh blood was replaced by the tang of the dry crust — not nearly as appetizing. Ellis breathed a bit easier.

“Don’t be a fool, Golding,” he said, “I’m not going to drink from you of all—”

He stopped short when he saw that Nicholas was unbuttoning his shirt.

“S’ppose the neck’s alright?” Nicholas asked, reaching for another button.

Ellis raced across the room and grabbed Nicholas by the collar, pulling his shirt shut.

“Would you stop that?” Ellis hissed. “Have you forgotten you’re drunk? You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Nicholas was still for a moment, staring down at the vampire’s hands. Then, gently, he wrapped his calloused fingers around Ellis’s wrists, and looked up into his face. “Ellis,” he said. His gaze was bleary and unfocused, but somehow full of an earnest concern. “I’m worried about you.”

Ellis’s long-dead heart thumped unevenly in his chest. He snatched his hands away. Nicholas took the opportunity to pull his shirt back open, exposing his neck and chest.

“Just do it, St. Clair,” he said. He glanced away, looking unexpectedly self-conscious. “It’s the least I can do. Since you’re letting me stay.”

“That’s not—” Ellis faltered, struggling to formulate another objection. But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the flushed skin of Nicholas’s chest. His fangs ached in anticipation of the bite. His resolve was wavering.

He reached out a trembling hand. Nicholas certainly did owe him this, he reasoned, after all the months of trouble he’d caused. What was one little bite among friends?

No! What was he thinking? The man was drunk; he didn’t know what he was saying. Ellis had a brief vision of Nicholas waking up in the morning, acutely hungover, and horrified by what had occurred the night before. In fact, if Nicholas remembered any of this in the morning, things between them might change forever, and that thought hurt Ellis in a way he did not expect or know how to account for.

“It’s alright,” Nicholas said, voice low. “I don’t mind.” He placed his hands on Ellis’s hips and pulled him slowly closer. Ellis’s breath caught in his throat.

“I can’t let you do this,” he whispered. “You’ll have a scar. I’ll put your entire reputation at stake.”

Nicholas let his head fall forward, shoulders shaking. At first Ellis thought he’d given up, but then he heard the quiet laughter.

“At stake…” said Nicholas, snickering drunkenly.

“Oh you moron…” muttered Ellis. He should have used the distraction to pull away, but he didn’t. He couldn’t make himself.

Nicholas recovered with an effort, then looked back up at Ellis.

“I’m not worried about the scar,” he insisted; and there was something sly in his voice as he said, “Just bite me somewhere no one will see.”

A flash of intuition struck Ellis. He couldn’t quite believe it, but he threw caution to the wind and asked anyway.

“Are you trying to seduce me?”

Nicholas’s mouth slowly spread into a wicked grin. “I’m—” he said, but his expression suddenly soured. He shoved Ellis back, leaned over, and vomited messily onto the rug.

“Oh, perfect timing as usual,” said Ellis drily, raising his voice to be heard above the noise.

“I’ll clean it up,” Nicholas groaned, head hanging. He sounded miserable, and Ellis felt a twinge of guilt over his sarcasm.

“I’ll clean it up. Get in bed.”

“But—”

“Now, Nicholas,” Ellis barked, and Nicholas hastily obeyed, clumsily tucking himself under the covers.

“Forgot how scary you can be when you want,” he said, chuckling to himself as his eyes fell closed.

Ellis snorted as he left the room to fetch some water. He prayed that he’d kept his expression composed, but if his heart had still worked, it would have been hammering. His mind was reeling, trying to process what had just happened.

At least one thing was certain: There was no way he was going to bite Nicholas now. He was far too dehydrated to lose any blood. It was a relief to finally reach a decision, though his hunger still stung him like the pain of a wound. He would just have to bear it for now.

And what about in the morning? Would Nicholas renew his offer, or would he take back the things he’d said? Would he even remember? Ellis would certainly remember. He felt a hundred years younger, torn between apprehension and a boyish sort of excitement. 

He smiled to himself, shaking his head. All this distress over that fool of a man… And a vampire hunter no less. Yes, things would certainly be changed between them tomorrow, but perhaps that was alright.

[anonymous-odd-thoughts-blog]

The Adventures Of Toby Masonlyn Through All Her Worlds

By Nony Odd

- - -

This is just a series of little fantasy stories. Fantasy is such an attractive genre to me. We are not only allowed to romanticize it, but encouraged to do so. Fantasy worlds and creatures and cultures are so somehow simultaneously majestic and quaint in comparison to the world we live in, as Homo sapiens on the planet Earth. Earth ain’t all bad, of course. But from Ancient Greek myths to the imagination of J.K Rowling and Tolkien, the fantasy worlds we carry within us have always been a second – or first – home to us Homos. This lil fantasy series comes with commentary, of course. I know I’m very new to tumblr but I’ve known about it for a while, so I’m just going to act like I already have thousands of fans. – N. Odd        

- - -

1.

Toby woke up with a start. Or, actually, she didn’t. Even with Aelin banging on her door, she awoke quite slowly. Toby quickly became annoyed but very confused (Noise…annoying…loud noise…wha…) and then finally opened her eyes after about a minute of trying to fall back asleep.

“Ma’am! Are you awake?” Aelin knocked again.

“Why are you banging on my?...Switchsticks. It’s Tuesday.” Toby scampered off the bed, made sure her nightgown was properly tied together, and opened the door.

“Quite right. You’re going to be late for your appointment.”

“That still doesn’t give you an excuse to relentlessly bang on my door! I know I’m late! My brain just didn’t tell me that until I woke up.” Toby shook her finger at Aelin. 

Then she laughed. She thought about what she must look like. She was the child of a female dwarf and a male elf. She had the white, slightly translucent skin of an elf, and the wide girth of a dwarf. Her height and ears were what you might call a direct hybrid between two styles of OffHuman. She was of average stature with broad shoulders and small feet, and her ears were pointy like an elf’s ears and slightly crumpled at the bottom. Her hair was blonde and wavy at the top, and got curlier and darker the lower on her head.

- - -

Has anyone else noticed that OffHumans in other stories are basically just existing variations of humans? Elves are tall and smart and graceful, dwarves are short and fat and angry, mermaids are humans who live in the water…throughout this series I’ll do my best to avoid this, which is why the elves have slightly translucent skin, etc. My way of dealing with similarities like this is to add extras. – N. Odd

- - -

Picture this slightly off-putting, beautiful specimen in a white and yellow nightgown, hair done up, shaking her frankly chubby finger at a constantly exasperated elf that was too old to be shaken at with a finger. You would’ve laughed too.

“Please, ma’am…” Aelin sighed.

“One, you can stop calling me ma’am, we’ve known each other for three years,” Toby put her hand on his shoulder, “two, do I at least have time to change?”

“Yes.” Aelin stood there.

“You don’t get to watch!” Toby laughed.

“Right.” He bowed awkwardly and left the room.

Toby flung off her nightgown and took her hair out of the string it was kept up in. She opened up her wardrobe like it was a treasure chest, and tossed the stuff she wanted to wear over her shoulder.

“Socks – boots – shirt – can’t forget pants – belt – jacket – oh wait bra – okay yep that’s good. Sword? Nah. Dagger.”

Her socks were peach colored, thin but fluffy. She pulled them up to her knees as she put her brown, strapped boots on.

She had to take it all off after realizing putting pants on after shoes was impossible. 

Her shirt was simple. Large and white. Felt like a mix of cotton and leather. Durable and soft. Her jacket had three layers. When she first got it, Toby painted Awesome Jacket on the tag in thick red paint. The outermost layer protected her against both cold and hot extremes, the innermost layer held weapons and snacks, and the one in between was plaid. It was meant to be a jacket left open, she couldn’t have closed it anyways – her chest and belly were simply too big. Toby loved this jacket.

As she walked towards the door, her stomach actually growled. She looked down at it.

“Appointment before food.” She grimaced slightly, walked out the door, and followed Aelin to the library’s main office. Oh yes. She lived in a library. 

And appointment before food would not have been her arrangement of priorities yesterday. But this was a special appointment. With luck, this time tomorrow, she would be an Adventurer. The Adventurers made it their business to have fun and travel. This was her dream job. The elves at the library were scholars who didn’t take part in fun or traveling themselves, but she understood. They just enjoyed different things. The elf part of her did want to stay in the miles-wide library and read for hours a day and give garden tours, the dwarf part of her wanted to leave as soon as possible after three years here, and the whole of her wanted to leave with no malice and have this place be the home she came back to. The Adventurers had no purpose except the advancement of civilization through hands-on learning and increased intercultural relationships.

Toby never described the library in her diary. It was simply…where she lived. She only talked about the books she read, like that one about the fascinating nomadic tribes who made a yearly migration along a line of volcanoes, simply to stay nearest to the escaping heat, or the series about older elven languages that died out due one massive potato blight.  

It was a long walk to the main office. She actually passed the gardens with Aelin on her way there, and wanted to dive in the deep, bright blue pond. She didn’t though. Aelin had her by her arm and didn’t let go until they reached the pale golden doors.

“Father,” Aelin shoved Toby into the room, “I have the last one.”

Toby bowed, grinning.

“Sit down next to Madisol!” Aelin’s father Kudayki cheered, and gestured to a young girl with light brown skin and purple eyes.

Toby walked over and did so.

“Hey.” Toby remembered she had some chocolate in one of her many jacket pockets, pulled a chunk out, and stuffed it in her mouth quickly before Kudayki saw. Madisol did, though, and scooted away towards the far end of the small bench.

“Dwarf.” She muttered.

“And half elf!” Toby poked Madisol in the shoulder, forcing her to look into Toby’s grey eyes.  

“Sorry, half-elf dwarf.” Madisol sneered.

“How did you know I was a dwarf?” Toby was amused.

“I didn’t care about looking at you until I heard you stuff that chocolate into your mouth, and then right away I noticed your size.”

“Good. I’m glad you noticed.” Toby patted her belly casually while smiling obviously, then smoothly and quietly grabbed Madisol by the lower nape and tugged her closer so she could whisper in her ear.                            

“What was that for?” Madisol tried to break free of Toby’s grasp but failed.

“I want you to know something about me…I am very comfortable in my own skin, Madi. So damn comfy. I’m actually hungry right now, I woke up too late to eat breakfast. But you’d be right in saying that most often, when I eat, I’m not hungry. Food satisfies me. A lot. It’s not hunger, it’s a very strong desire. Hence. I am very big, even for a dwarf. I am a glutton and proud of it, and genetically, my scandalous dwarfiness allows me to find no problems with it health-wise. So I’m happy, and fine, and there goes the two most popular reasons to fat-shame and/or dwarf-shame, down the drain, just like that, you see that? Whoop-de-doo. There we go.”

Toby let Madisol go. Madisol rubbed the back of her neck, and Toby smiled. She’d spoken quickly enough that they were thankfully not still engaged in mini-combat when the multi-hearing started. There were hearings to decide the next round of Adventurers every year, and this year, the hearings all happened at once to make time for later meetings the Elven Scholar’s Council had.

- - -

This is getting long whoops lol – N. Odd

- - -

The room quieted down as Kudayki stood.

“One of the most important times of the year for us here at the library has come.”

The room erupted into loud cheering. Toby was one of the loudest.

“Calm down, calm down everyone.” Kudyaki waved the cheers down in volume. But he was smiling.

“Please welcome the potential Adventurers to the stage!” He shouted, and didn’t try to quiet anybody down this time. He ran up to the stage and gestured for all the young people who had volunteered to do the same.

Toby, for better or for worse, ended up standing next to Madisol as the crowd calmed down.  

Kudyaki immediately began calling out names. “Kingsley Lykos! Ravol Biki! Come up together!”

Toby counted through the line of people, and realized that her and Madisol would have to present their arguments together, simultaneously discouraging the other’s campaign. She sighed.

Kingsley and Ravol looked appropriately badass and wordly. Kingsley had natural blue hair and black eyes. Ravol was holding a large encyclopedia and reciting different words as some strange evidence that he should go. Kingsley flattened Ravol, and his position validated, he sat back down in the audience. His family and friends cheered for him. 

Toby suddenly got very nervous. Each year, only five new Adventurers joined the massive global team. One down, four to go. It was rare that both people who presented together both became Adventurers. Madisol shivered next to Toby, and accidentally reached to hold Toby’s hand. Toby put it back down.

The two people who went next both sucked in Toby’s opinion. One had an adorable lisp but knew nothing about anything. One tossed around insults at anybody who looked at her, including the Council.

However, the two people after that both looked as though they had very good chances. One had already done some traveling. It’s not as though you couldn’t travel without being an Adventurer, but you generally were considered too young. The other had somehow read more books than Toby, but still spoke like a person. 

The traveler, Minki, made it on. She sat down next to Kingsley, and they shook hands.

It was Madisol and Toby’s turn. They walked up to the two podiums nearly synchronized.

Madisol was up to present first. Uh oh, Toby thought, What is she gonna say about me? She glanced over, then faced the Council with a set jaw. 

Madisol began. “My story begins 100 years ago. My late great grandmother was ten years old.”

It was suddenly like a cloud of frowns came over the room. Did everyone but Toby know about…something?

“My people were nearly all killed in one night. Hacked to death with daggers.”

Toby felt the dagger get heavier inside her jacket.      

“The Elves have done an amazing job with trying to restore my culture, but there are still descendant tribes there, left behind by the modern world. My younger brother still lives with them. I begged with my father to accompany me and journeyed here with a donation. I have no mother. I had to leave my brother without a family. No one there has access to proper education, food and water are hard to come by without angering the spirits and animals…intercultural relationships are what you want. I want to save my people. I can use this opportunity to do so.” 

Toby blanched, which she didn’t think was possible, with her already white skin. She couldn’t compete with that; moreover, she didn’t really want to. Madisol’s people had experienced genocide. Toby noticed that Madisol’s hand was still rubbing her neck, and her hands shook whenever she looked at Toby. 

“Your presentation?” Kudyaki looked into Toby’s eyes, expecting her to counter. 

Instead, she looked at Madisol. “Who killed your people…?”

Madisol glared back, but Toby could tell she was nervous. “Your people.”

Kudyaki frowned. “Do not turn this into a deeper discussion, ladies. Simply present your cases.”

Toby stood there, looking at Madisol. She remembered a story her mother used to tell her, about how all the brave women and men in her congregation went off to rid the world of evil dragons, with purple eyes and the ability to turn into humans. Her mother told it with such a sensationalist attitude that she often asked her mother if it really happened the way all the elders told it.  

Madisol shrunk as Toby walked towards her. “Please don’t hurt me again!”

She gave away her fear in one small shriek.

Kudyaki looked at Toby curiously.

“When I sat next to her,” Toby sighed, resignedly, “She muttered ‘dwarf’ right after I had eaten something from inside one of my jacket pockets. I thought she was fat-shaming me. I thought she had recognized that I was a dwarf just from me having snacks on me, and she was being negative about it. So I…aggressively corrected her when none of you were looking. Now I realize she feels negatively about dwarves because of something they did that most of them are still proud of. I simply kept the impression she had gathered going by being violent.”

Kudyaki looked thoughtful. “Well obviously that does sound mean, but given that you were provoked, however wrong the provoking information was, you don’t need to experience any sort of extensive punishment. Was that your presentation? You didn’t talk about your attitude or abilities…” 

Toby ignored him and put her arm on Madisol’s shoulder. She tried to shrink a bit as to not look imposing with a potentially intimidating pose.  

“I’m so sorry about what happened. If there’s anything I can do…I’m sorry. I didn’t know. But ignorance is no excuse.”

Toby stepped back and stayed silent while the others presented their cases. For some reason, the Council said they would give everyone else their position-related answers after the event ended. Was it because Toby hadn’t presented a case good enough for even a yes or no decision, and they wanted to give her a second chance before letting the others receive an answer, just in case she got in later?

Madisol and Toby were waiting in the hallway when another boy joined them. He shook both their hands.

“Crissti.” 

“Madi.”

“Toby.”

“Nice to meet you, Madi, Toby.” Crissti ruffled his own hair, possibly styling it for their private time in the office.

“It’s time to come back in.” A man Toby had seen a few times before poked his head out. He had purple eyes.

“Okay, Father.” Madisol entered the room first, with Toby and Criss right behind her.

They sat down at a three-seat table across from the Council’s table.

“Did you have us come in here that way I could…present a better case?” Toby asked. 

“At first,” Madisol’s father said, “That was indeed the plan. Kudyaki seemed to think the words you spoke during the main meeting didn’t suffice as a showcase of your personality.” 

Kudyaki was very smart, and very cheerful, but a rule follower.

“The rest of us thought it did suffice, very much so.”

“Good…?” Toby smiled, not knowing what to expect. 

“Very good, for all three of you.” Aelin, sitting at a chair behind the Council, commented. He smiled as though doing so for the first time in the three years that Toby had known him.

“What does he mean, all three of us?” Criss asked.

Kudyaki smiled broadly. “Crissti was the fifth Adventurer admitted to the team. His case wasn’t nearly as complicated a process to look over, but we wanted to tell you all at the same time – you two were the third and fourth.”

Madisol nearly started to cry.

Toby laughed. “How?”

“Madisol’s case was an interesting, sympathetic one. We all thought, at first, that she would make it in no question. The nature of her case made it inevitable. But as you made your statements, we realized you were aware of this as well. You were humble and implied that you wished to forfeit so Madisol could take the position. You are no ordinary dwarf. No dwarf would have apologized so quickly for something they’d only just heard about, not even genocide. They are a stubborn, proud type. We are aware that you are a hybrid, of course, but it remains a fact that even hybrids take the political sides of their proudest parent.”

“So basically,” Toby smiled, “You’re letting me be an Adventurer because I’m ‘selfless’ and ‘humble’? You haven’t heard about me, you don’t know why I’d be good other than! –”

“We haven’t heard about you in the traditional way as a group,” Kudyaki continued, “but I know some things about you after three years. You are bright. You enjoy life itself. You enjoy traveling. You are kind. You love to read, and you are down to earth.”

Toby smiled, slowly.

“…Cool!”

Madisol muttered something. 

“What?” Toby asked.

She muttered under her breath again.

“I couldn’t hear you…”

“Sorry…bout…”

Toby hugged Madisol. She pulled Criss into the hug too. “It’s fine. We’re all here. We’re all okay.”

“And we all made it!” Crissti cheered.

- - -

It’ll get really fun next chapter guys, promise! – N. Odd...hey P.S Toby has glasses I completely forgot to mention that lmao