ELWEN LUNA
elven warrior - 50+ - Nature magic
Palace - with King Levos
The she - elf approached the kingdom with pride. Inside, Elwen had nothing left, sadness and anger boiled in her heart, and she tightened her jaw. Walking through the main area, all looked at her, disgust on their faces, and some showed awe. Blood stained her hands, and she raised her chin in the air, no expression, as she went towards the stables. Putting her hood over her head, the smaller elf showed Rowan to his stall "You be good now... Ballad..." Her voice was gentle elfish, and she mumbled a few words under her breath to the horses. Her strong connection with her horse showed, and she placed her forehead to his, her eyes closed, a bright and saddened smile on her face. The horse sighed gently, as if to comfort her, and trotted into the stall. The stables were a gentle place of old, and she could hear Ballad and Rowan's conversation about Faelyn and the battle. With one last glance from the door, Elwen shut it, without one sound. Sighing deeply, she went back to the entrance of the palace.
Walking through the palace, she unsheathed her blades, and cleaned them with a guard's towel that was presented to her. No blood remained on any of her weapons, and she sheathed them, making her look better organized in the king's presence. Swiftly, she was told of her expected presence, "You've been expected, Elwen Luna." Said many guards, very blandly. Showing a nod of elegance, she made herself look presentable, a strict and emotionless look on her face. Her hair was perfect, as usual, and had tints of red blood and dirt. Nothing looked out of order on the elven warrior, and she patted herself off, no dirt remaining. She was much like a ranger, and everyone knew this. No emotion hung in her eyes, but pride swelled in her body. Her hips swayed at every step, one foot went gracefully in front of the other, and she kept her hands by her side, loosely, and held her glare at the door to the throne room. She didn't await for the doors to be pushed open for her, instead, she pushed them open herself, the large doors making a loud sound as she did so. Walking down the middle, she lowered her chin, and her hips still swayed in a walk.
Her large strides were noticeable, and her boots make a clacking noise on the floor bellow her, as she followed the center of the grand room. As she approached the king, her right arm went to waist level, and the left went on her back, parallel from her right. She bowed, gently, and her curly hair dangled from her shoulders. "Your Majesty." Her voice was a gentle melodic tone, yet it was mocking and sarcastic. Rising, she stayed at her spot, about twenty paces from the throne. No expression was shown in her face, and her face was straight, but still beautiful. Standing tall, her legs spread to her shoulder width apart. Her hands resorted to cupping inside each other, in front of her.