This illustration was made as a contest reward for AdiposeAdorer for the story Elves Don't Get Fat.

The author also indulged us with an epilogue to accompany the picture and give us some insight on Llaralynne and Rane after the end of the main story.

Thank you again for your involvement with this project ^^

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Epilogue (by @AdiposeAdorer)
Llaralynne dodged the ogre’s club, and plunged her sword into its chest. A gurgle escaped its throat as it sank to the ground. The beast felled, she wiped her blade clean, and shoved it back in its sheath.

“Well done!” Rane clapped her hands. “That’ll teach them not to mess with us.”

The enormous elf had parked herself on a boulder, a way away from where the fight had played out. The vast expanse of her doughy, dangling belly rested between her pillar-like thighs. Her hefty hips and wobbling buttocks hung over the edge of her seat.

“What do you mean ‘us'?” Llaralynne frowned. “You’ve just been sitting there, stuffing your face.”

“I know.” the elf girl pouted, and popped another couple of cookies past her lips. “But that’s just because you told me not to get involved.”

“Yeah, I guess I did.” Llaralynne sighed and studied her pitiful porker of a partner.

With all those heavy, heaving rolls weighing her down, Rane could hardly walk for more than a few minutes at a time. She was in no state to throw down with anyone, much less an over-muscled monster that could crack her skull with a single blow. Deep down, Llaralynne was sure she knew this all too well. Yet, the girl still insisted on accompanying her on the odd job, all the same, and she just didn’t have the heart to turn her down.

“So, what now?” Rane beamed, and shoved another handful of snacks in her squishy, spherical face.

“That should be all of them,” Llaralynne glanced at the body on the ground behind her. “Now that the road’s safe, I guess we’ll head on to the village to collect our reward.”

“Sounds good to me.” Rane swung forward in an attempt to stand up, but her seat was simply too low to the ground. All she managed was to set her many layers of liquid flesh rippling and swaying.

“Um,” she reached her hands out towards Llaralynne. “I could do with some help here.”

By the time Rane was on her feet, her face was shiny with sweat. She had to lean on Llaralynne a moment to collect herself. Watching her boobs sway, and her belly rise and fall with her every, gasping breath, Llaralynne couldn’t help but gawp at how out of shape the girl had let herself get. Just getting to her feet had her more exhausted than Llaralynne, after slaying a full-grown ogre, all on her own.

Having given the overgorged elf a moment to rest, Llaralynne placed a hand on her shoulder?

“Ready to go?”

“Yeah…” Rane squeezed out between breaths. “I think so.”

The two of them set off, and Llaralynne shook her head as she watched her partner waddle along. With her flab-laden thighs pushing her feet apart, and her pendulous breasts and belly pulling her forward, forcing her to lean back in order to accommodate them, her gait was as un-elvish as any Llaralynne could imagine. To make matters worse, her sheer bulk stopped her seeing the ground beneath her feet, so that she had to move across the rough terrain with the smallest and most careful of steps.

By the time they made their way back to where they’d left their horse and cart, Rane’s gait had degraded further. Rather than walk on her own two legs, with her back straight, she leaned on her staff, letting the heavy slabs of fat hanging from her torso pull her forward as she shuffled along. Llaralynne supposed she was still managing better than most humans might, in her condition. But at her current size, that wasn’t saying much.

Once the two of them reached the side of the road, Llaralynne placed a sturdy crate on the ground, and helped Rane up on it. With her porcine partner in place, she pulled the cart up close behind her. The girl’s hips and buttocks spread around her as she plopped down on its floor, shifting as she sidled into place.

“Sitting comfortably?” Llaralynne gave her plush arm a pat.

“Uh-huh…” Rane breathed, too winded to say much more.

If it’d been up to her, Llaralynne would’ve preferred to travel light. But with Rane along, that wasn’t an option. The girl couldn’t walk far, and she was heavy enough that there weren’t any horses around with the strength to hold her. These days, she couldn’t even climb into the cart by herself. If, by some miracle, she managed to heave one of those legs of hers high enough, there was still no way her overtaxed knee would lift the weight of her entire body.

With the way things were going, it wouldn’t be long before the girl was too big to head out on another adventure, even as a passive observer.

A year or two ago, after their little mishap at Ningálin, Llaralynne had hoped her partner would finally get herself together. But in the end, her humiliation had only made things worse. Rather than face her problems head on, Rane had embraced her nature as a fat failure, and turned to food like never before. When Llaralynne tried to confront her about her eating habits, she’d pout and say that she just couldn’t help herself. And anyway, as big as she was, it wasn’t like another little snack would make much difference. In the end, Llaralynne had no choice but to throw up her hands, and leave the girl to bury herself in food. To let her pork up until she was forced to face what she was doing to herself, or was simply too huge to head out on any more adventures.

Of the two, the latter seemed the most likely. But that might just be for the best. When all was said and done, Rane just wasn’t cut out for this line of work. The sooner she got out of it the better, even if it meant she’d settle into life as a full time lardass.

Once the girl could no longer tag along on these little trips, Llaralynne was sure it wouldn’t be long before she was too huge to get around at all. Perhaps Rane thought so too. That might well be why the girl still pushed herself to head out with her. Because she knew that, when she stopped, she’d be nothing but a useless ball of blubber–a shifting mass of soft flesh, with no life outside of food.

Much as Rane might try to avoid it, they both knew that day wasn’t far off. And they weren’t the only ones. Over the last few years, as the girl had blown up with fat, and it became clear that there was no reigning in that swelling frame of hers, arrangements had been made to assure that she could still live in comfort, even once she was too big to be able to take care of herself. The Master of the adventurer’s guild had prepared some particularly sturdy furniture for her, and lined her up with a cushy archival job, to help her feel useful, when she was too fat to do much of anything else.

Keeping Rane around would be an expense, no doubt, but she was well-liked at the guild hall. She was such a sweet and cheerful girl, after all, and her sheer size drew more than a bit of attention. Few in town had ever seen anyone even half as big as her, much less an actual elf. As her body had kept growing, people began to stop by simply to marvel at the sight of her, until she’d ended up as a sort of unofficial mascot for the organization. At first, this had made the girl more than a little self-conscious. But she’d learned to live with it, since it meant people were only too happy to pay for her meals, to see, and sometimes even bet on how much she could put away.

From time to time, people would snicker and make all sorts of snide remarks behind her back. But few dared do it to her face and risk drawing the ire of a bunch of battle-scarred adventurers.

Llaralynne climbed into the driver’s seat, and spurred their horse on. As they set off, she glanced back at Rane, taking in the way her flesh quivered with the slightest shake.

It was strange, really. She’d spent so many years admiring her kind. Yet now, she found a strange thrill in watching the girl ruin herself. The thought of that pathetic excuse for an elf destroying her perfect physique, until her ears were the only thing left to indicate her true nature, excited her in ways she couldn’t describe. It wasn’t a very elvish way to feel, she knew. But she couldn’t help it. The sight of Rane waddling around with all that flab hanging from her frame was just so deliciously wrong.

-

The village was quiet when they arrived, its streets all but empty. For a moment, Llaralynne thought it might have been deserted. But then, a door creaked open, and a bearded old man emerged. His eyes were keen, and his face carved with deep lines. Llaralynne assumed he must be a village elder of some kind.

“Are you the adventurers we sent for?” He peered up at her.

Llaralynne answered with a nod.

“That’s good to hear.” His face broke into a smile. “I was told someone would be coming. One human and one elf, was it? I guess you must be the latter.”

“Sorry“ Llaralynne shook her head. “I’m as human as they come.”

“You mean to say…?” His face fell as he turned to the mound of blubber filling up the back of her cart.

”Hi there.” Rane slid back her hood, showing off those long, pointy ears of hers. Her ripe cheeks parted, like curtains of flowering flesh, as an awkward smile spread on her face.

“I see…” the elder said, jaw still slack. “My apologies.”

“No worries.” Llaralynne stifled a smirk. “You’re not the first to make that mistake.”

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