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Old 08-13-2007, 07:05 PM   #176
Folwren
Messenger of Hope
 
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Join Date: Jun 2005
Location: In a tiny, insignificant little town in one of the many States.
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Folwren is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.Folwren is battling Black Riders on Weathertop.
Uldor sneered at Ulfast’s words, but he didn’t look up from the letter until he had completed it. He wanted to crumple it up in his hand when he had finished, but he knew how that might appear to anyone who might happen to be watching him. Besides, it wasn’t so much the epistle he was angry with. It was his annoying, troublesome brother.

He shoved the letter back into Ulfast’s hand. “Next time, make sure I know before saying anything to anybody.” He placed his fisted hand on the table, and his other hand on the back of Ulfast’s chair, and he leant over him. “Do you understand?”

“Take care, brother,” Ulfast said in a hissing whisper. “There are people watching you.”

“Oh, right,” Uldor said withdrawing. He looked down at Ulfast. “As though you cared about what they thought of me. We all know what they think of me. They fear me. As you should, too.”

He turned sharply on his heel and walked away. Angry thoughts ricocheted about in his head, like a wasp caught in a jar, unable to find a way out. But his thoughts were able to escape. . .there was an outlet. Always. One of plotting and revenge - Uldor would call it punishment. He wouldn’t be mocked in his own hall. Not by anyone.

Uldor took his seat beside Lachrandir.

Not by anyone, he told himself, not even by this elf ambassador.

Last edited by Folwren; 08-15-2007 at 08:18 AM.
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