<div class="floatleft">(http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/3/31/Melarien3.jpg)</div><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><strong>Name: </strong>Lady Melarien va’Taeloris. (http://elliquiy.com/elluiki/images/6/6e/Melarien.jpg)<br/><strong>Shortnames: </strong> <em>Larien, Lari, Tree Dancer.</em><br/><strong>Musical Inspiration:</strong> From Deep in My Heart - Karl Jenkins. (http://grooveshark.com/#!/s/From+Deep+In+My+Heart/4Pinid?src=5)<br/><strong>Race:</strong> Peranos.<br/><strong>Location: </strong> Myeliae - Outside Council Structure.<br/><strong>Tagged:</strong> <em>Observing - open to interaction</em>.</span><br/><hr/><hr/><br/><span class="bbc_font" style="font-family: trebuchet ms;"><em>A stirring among the men, there was.<br/><br/>Without surprise to Melarien - Lady Nilofer seemed to be the source of it.</em><br/><br/>Rosebud lips turned upward into the thinnest of smiles as the middling tall Peranosian elf leaned slowly against her favourite tree - which was convieniently placed at the centre of everything.  She had seen the Enforcers go upward and within Lord Comgal's office - and she could count as well as any.  Two men yet lingered within. <br/><br/>A wooden, beautifully carved tea cup was warm and held to hands that had eased many hurts.  Warm and yet - quite reserved eyes tracked the people moving toward different shops, while so many of her kind, both men and women alike were armed and ready for battle.  A soft sigh left 'Larien at the thought as her eyes closed and she inhaled the bittersweet scent of the tea.  It held just enough herbs to keep it palatable to her tongue - though not most others.  The warm presence of the Peranos - though perhaps at a slight remove with decades of war upon them did not often call for reservation in the pleasures of life.  <br/><br/>Melarien va'Taeloris preferred it so, however.  A sandalled foot dangled from the perch she rested upon, a good distance from the ground, but low enough that she could be seen by anyone that paid attention to their surroundings well enough.  Her attire was more functional while remaining a seemingly delicate work of art: the enchanted fabric of her gown lay in a surround of soft gold, silvers, and greens that complimented her very fair skin that held a subtle touch of gold - as if the sun had shared a passionate embrace with the light of the moon - returning forever changed.<br/><br/>Braided curls fell nearly to the woman's ankles in an intricate design that spoke less of the carefree manner of the Peranos than something ... older, perhaps.  It was not as though the 'Tree Dancer' - as some called her, and those especially looking to get beneath her skirts, forever failing - had no passion.  It simply burned beneath layers of restraint and cordial manner.  High cheekbones and a face touched with an expected hauteur was blended with nothing short of a gentle compassion that spoke more than the few words 'Larien oft chose to grant those that approached her at will.<br/><br/>Swirling the tea in her cup - she dashed back the whole and tucked the cup into her satchel.  In a swift movement the lady stood to stretch, curious when she'd discover what precisely the trouble was.  Lips pursed while her eyes - reflecting both the death of the sweetness of the earth and its birthing - swam so briefly with humour and delight.  A shimmering of silver beneath her layered gown that revealed precious little of her curves was a mark to the armour she wore betwixt the layers of her dress.  <br/><br/>No points of hardened nipples ready for a kiss from this one.  Though that didn't stop plenty from dreaming.<br/><br/>Eyes fell closed briefly as Melarien sighed, and her golden brown lashes brushed her cheeks, and thinly carved wooden bangles were a pretty, feminine sound upon her arms and ankles.  The wind blew in the trees as she skipped down the branches as though indeed caught in the torrent of a dance to court the singing leaves themselves.  Her left eyelid was touched with the terrible, silvery scar that sliced into the left side of her face. Decades old and well healed, the impression that she was lucky not to lose her eye was quite strong.  Briefly in a self-conscious movement, her fingers touched where it trailed from her forehead to her chin. <br/><br/>Sandalled feet touched the earth in silence while curved hips swayed in brief while her fingers stroked the tree in a quiet, tender thanks.  That one received at least a couple of odd looks especially among the very young, causing a gentle chuckle comparable to the waves of upon a lake to spill free.  Upon her back was a deep, perfectly green tattoo of the very vines that had long touched the trees especially the deeper one moved into the forest, while a blessing lay in two elven tongues across her shoulders, occasionally revealed when her heavy braid was not in the way:<br/><br/><em>'Sweet forest - grant us peace among the wilds.<br/>In return the blessed contemplation nor<br/>seeking of knowledge never be forgotten.'</em> <br/><br/>Her back was the only skin Melarien bared save delicate ankles and occasional glimpse of a well muscled calf.  On gentle - quite feet she turned toward the central compound to discover most importantly if she was needed.  To those guarding the outside of the inner most space of the Enforcers - Melarien swept a neat - though not overly flashy curtsey - allowing the edges of her golden skirts to flick against her legs.  It occurred to her that speaking to Nilofer herself was an option - but ... <em>sweet earth take it</em>!<br/><br/>She wanted an uncluttered version of the events her friend had managed to get herself tangled into.  Concern that was perilously close to sisterly - sun forbid that she feel for anyone and allow it seen - flashed over her beautiful and pensive face.  <br/><br/><strong>"If it would be permitted me - I would speak to an Enforcer, presuming I give no interruption of business."</strong>  Melarien's voice was soft, sweet with an edge that could only be described as <em>sensual with dancing steel beneath</em> her every artfully granted syllable in the most elegant of elven speech.<br/><br/>It was rare that she specifically requested a man to speak to.  <br/><br/><em>Perhaps the Lady va'Taeloris was coming around?</em>  <br/><br/>Lips curved faintly upon her face.  <em>Doubtful indeed.</em></span>