Temper
Now that my blood is no longer trying to all fit into my skull, I am angry. No, I am furious. Do the foolish elflings not realize that my head could have been split open on the floor, had I not grabbed the rope with one hand as my feet were pulled out from underneath me? A spark of amusement rises up in me as I see how clearly terrified Elladan is. It dawns on me that this may be a better punishment than I could come up with if I thought for a fortnight. I ignore his frantic gibbering, and jab my finger into his chest.
'There are but four living creatures in this world who have seen my temper wholly unleashed, and count yourself lucky that you are not the fifth, Peredhel. However, should such an incident as this happen a second time, you will not be so fortunate. Believe me when I tell you that if I find myself hanging from another ceiling, or dripping in honey and ashes from a fireplace, I will take my staff to both you and your deserving brother. Whether I use it to beat the idiocy out of you or to turn you two into fluffy little rabbits yet remains to be seen.'
Satisfied with my mostly-empty threat, I turn on my heel and leave the room, intending to douse the rest of my anger with a glass of Elrond's best dorwinion.
TBC...