AN: Hello, again!

It appears that I have developed a serious addiction to this site and posting and updating. So here you'll find a set of one-shots to fill in some gaps my story Family Complications left behind, or just provide some additional scenes that I have in my head, but couldn't fit into the story. (That means that I'll keep on this shameless advertising all along, because I need to define when these scenes take place in the confines of the main story)

Everything is owned by J.R.R. Tolkien.

I hope you'll like this, if you read Family Complications and if you didn't, you can still check it out, if these one-shots hook your attention. No-one is forcing you though, if you don't like it, feel free to stop anytime :) I'd be most happy to receive your comments and reviews and thank you for reading in advance.

Waiting for test results - another oh so perfect time to edit and update and check emails like a maniac. So here the new chapter, I just finished editing. Summer update (it's quite hot outside)... what happened to spring, I could ask? From 5 degrees to 28 in two weeks... Go and have an ice cream, people :D Thanks for reading an advance :)

SCENE No. 10

- set after Prince Imrahil's visit (Family Complications Chapter 8 - Twelve Days Later) -

She left. If there was anything that bothered him in her or in their relationship, it was that she always left. They spent an hour, or two, or three together, today even more, five hours at least, and then she left. She went home to her family, to have bloody dinner with some bloody guest who was licking her parents' backside to get to marry her, or with that stupid bloody son of the Steward who her parents wanted to wed her to. He remembered spotting him talking to her sometimes during Imrahil's visit - and he remembered wanting to gut him every time he saw them talk. She was his. And not the Steward's stupid son's. She was his to talk to, his to walk with, his to eat with, his to take to bed… She preferred eating with him too. And she never cooked for the Steward's son. He had no idea what he so liked about this cooking thing, but how impressive it was? Nobody ever cooked him pudding… But she had left and now she was eating pudding with her family. That was all right, as long as the Steward's son or any other shitty young lord wasn't there too…

Somebody knocked on the door.

"My lord?"

"What?"

"Just wanted to check if you were home, my lord, we weren' sure when we got back" Pilares explained from outside. This woman talked so much… "Is there anything you need, my lord? Do you want dinner? Or shall I—?"

"Just shut up and leave? Be so kind. I'll call you if I need anything" Torundir cut her across. Even despite the three inches thick wooden door, in his mind's eye, he could see Pilares leaving with a sulky face. And thanks heavens that she left. He wanted to be left alone to resume staring at the ceiling and being jealous.

He didn't remember the last time he had been jealous. That was probably because there had never been such time before. But Gilraen was his sweet little kitten and even the thought of anybody else talking to her bothered him. The fact that she had left bothered him too. He would have preferred her to stay. How she could have done that, he had no idea and didn't even care. He just wanted her to stay. He liked having her around. He liked hearing her laugh, smelling her skin, touching her hair, peeling her out of her silks and brocades. He liked telling her about his things and liked listening to her stories. But at some point she always left. He hated that.

She had always been a sweet girl and good company but Torundir had never thought he would grow this fond of her. He had never thought he would spend hours cursing the fate because she had to leave every time they were together. He had thought, and hoped, no matter how much he would have hated to do that to Gilraen, that once he got her to bed, she would get less interesting, less lovely and he would desire her less. On the night after their first time he had thought for hours about what he felt and what he wanted. Already then, the only conclusion he had reached was wanting her again, as soon as possible. He remembered telling himself that things would get better though, that he would lose interest in her and with an ugly and disgusting goodbye he would be able to let go of her and their affair at some point. Two weeks later the only change he had experienced was that he had started hating Elboron along with basically every male who he saw talking to Gilraen. And things never seemed to get any better ever since.

Twelve days ago, when Gilraen told him that he could get any woman while she was busy had been a strange moment. The scum douchebag part of him felt proud that she considered him masculine enough to seduce any woman with no difficulty. But another part of him felt almost hurt to realize that she had thought he was only playing with her. He wasn't. He wasn't playing for a long time. The playing part was before he actually got her to bed, while they just flirted, while he seduced her. Ever since he got her though, it was no playing… not a single day passed without running his mind over what would happen to them, how this situation would resolve, if it ever will.

He still had no idea of that. All he knew was that he missed her all the time when she wasn't with him, that he hated Elboron and everybody else who was a potential suitor to her with passion and that she was the most amazing woman in the world.

Torundir sat up with a sigh. That was enough of foolish thoughts for the night. He stood up to go downstairs and get some supper, see if there was anything to do. On the small table by the door there was a quill and some paper. He didn't have any letters or anything else to write. After eying the sheets for another moment, taking the quill he dipped it into the ink bottle and pulled a sheet in front of himself.

Got home all right, my sweet? We never agreed when you'd have your next lesson. I'm not planning to wait another 12 days before I see you again.

He tore off the top of the sheet and rolled up the message. Maybe she'd reply tonight and let him know when she had time. He descended to fetch a bird to send the message to Gilraen.

"My lord?"

Torundir rolled his eyes and turned to face Pilares hurrying after him from the kitchens.

"I don't remember saying I needed anything…"

Pilares held up two bowls between her fat, callused fingers. The ones Gilraen made the pudding into. "If I may ask, my lord, do you have any idea of the contents of them dishes 'cause it's nothing I've cooked." For the first time in her life, Pilares had a confused expression on her face, instead of a smug knowing one.

"It's you who is in charge of the kitchens, how would I know?" Torundir shrugged and left for the back yard.

He didn't want to send a message bearer, it was a little late for official corresponding with the Princess of Gondor and a bird was quicker too. He attached the small scroll to the leg of his most trusted hawk and let it fly off. He hoped she would reply… she should, in case she is not having supper with some shitty little lord… He wished she were only his. Her sweet face, her lovely laugh and beautiful body… What he wouldn't give to have her stay with him all the time…

Gilraen was still in his thoughts as he went back to the house and ascended back to his bedchamber without having any dinner. He wasn't hungry at all. But his bed still smelled of Gilraen. That only made him miss her in fact, however he still loved her smell lingering among the pillows where they lay in each other's arms. To stop himself from thinking about her, Torundir just got a book and, pouring himself a cup of wine, sat down to read for a while.

It wasn't long before his hawk landed on the windowsill with Gilraen's reply though.

I got home just fine, my lord. The next lesson we can have whenever you wish, I am free every day after one o'clock in the afternoon. The decision is up to you, although the sooner the better. Good night and sweet dreams, my lord.

P.S. This bird scared the 'bloody hell' out of me.

Torundir couldn't help a small chuckle escape his lips. He loved her replies, they always made him smile. There was only one way they could have been sweeter: if she had been there in person, so he could hear those words right from her mouth.

Let's make it Monday two o'clock then. Would prefer tomorrow, alas we don't teach on Sundays. Sweet dreams, I shall have, of you. Good night, angel.

P.S. Birds don't bite, my sweet. But next time I'll send a kitten. Or a black bunny.

He attached the new message to the hawk's leg and let it fly off again.

While he waited for the bird's return, he went back downstairs to order a bath to be prepared and find some work to do.

"My lord?"

"What?" Torundir murmured absently as he went through a pile of scrolls looking for Erandur's writing on what sort of exam he would have to come up with for the Academy.

"There was a messenger, my lord. A letter from your sister" Donland stepped in and held out a neatly folded paper.

"Just put it down, I'll read it tomorrow. Give food and some place to sleep to the messenger" Torundir replied. He knew full well what his sister wanted. But right now he didn't feel like thinking about whether he wanted to train his fifteen-year-old nephew or not, since it would also mean the lad moving in with him. And that was just uncomfortable now. He would have to find an excuse to put him out every time he wanted to have Gilraen over. It would be an additional bother that he didn't need.

Heading back upstairs after he found Erandur's scroll, Torundir wondered when Gilraen had become the center of his life that he started organizing everything around seeing her, meeting her and holding lessons for her. It was not a good thing if a woman was the center of somebody's life, the example of his father had proved that. Also, to have Gilraen, the King's daughter as the center of his life was even more foolish. She was a forbidden fruit. A forbidden fruit he had already plucked off and tasted, to be perfectly honest, which actually made the question somewhat out of date.

On the windowsill, his hawk was already waiting to be admitted with Gilraen's letter.

Monday two o'clock, it shall be then. Good night to you, my lord, and see you in your dreams, or in mine, if I fall asleep sooner.

P.S. Alas, here is no safe place for black bunnies, as I have told you, my lord. Also, bunnies don't carry messages and thus, in exchange for a letter from you, I'm willing to prefer hawks anytime.

Torundir put away the letter with a fond smile, deciding that he would refrain from responding and let her sleep. Aw, she was so in love with him… And he was starting to have the impression that this feeling was not one sided.

Selfish scumbag, right? :D So, please tell me what you think, how you liked the chapter :)

There'll be one last one-shot, an additional one. The flashback of Aragorn and Arwen's wedding. And that'll be all of me for a good while, haha :)

What else is there... Oh yeah, update... I'm having a test this week, we are so close to the end of school. So that means I'll probably not have time to finish it by next weekend, but I'm doing my best as always and hope the get it done as soon as possible.