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.

So very sorry about the delay in updating. I had so many things to do and even at the weekend my schedule was full. I wanted to post yesterday after shopping but then I ended up going to see a play and got home pretty late, so I'm only updating now. This is very short, but actually it's more like a second part to the previous chapter I posted. This is a different POV though, that's why I wanted to post it separately. Thanks for reading in advance and apologies for not updating for so long :(

SCENE No 7

- set during Sybille's wedding reception (Family Complications - Epilogue) -

His son was included in the act of succession. He did not want his son to be included in the bloody act of bloody succession. He knew well that the chances of his son having to take the throne were more than low, which gave him some comfort, but the idea itself was something he didn't like. His son would not be king, he would be his heir, he would be Lord of Maeregard once and not king. But nevertheless, it was an unbelievably generous gesture from the King; it meant that he recognized Gilraen again and accepted their son. For that, Torundir was more than thankful. And Eldarion was not somebody likely to die without a male heir, fortunately.

Returning to the Great Hall again Torundir looked around for his wife. Not very surprisingly, he found her chatting with Ëlyel by their table. It was quite funny how uncertain and reluctant she had been to meet up with Ëlyel for the first time and now they were as close as sisters. As he walked up to them he caught sight of Barahin talking with Lord Pig. Or so they started calling him between each other after Barahin's birthday celebration. Torundir never even understood why Theoron was invited to that party in the first place. The man was a poor actor and his sudden eagerness to make friends with the heir of Lord Malberen after playing away even that little wealth his father had left him was just too transparent. And that was the least of it… Even standing face to face with Barahin, the fat fucker did not have the grace to restrain from staring at his wife from the corner of his eyes. That was all Theoron did on Barahin's party too, sniffed after other men's women…

Gritting his teeth, Torundir resumed his walk to their table and sat down beside Gilraen, just abandoned by Ëlyel who set off to rescue her husband from Theoron. Gilraen gave a relieved smile as she felt his arm around her and he never failed to catch her eyes as she glanced behind her back to check if that fucker was still gawking at her. His blood boiled. So this was not a fantasy of his uncontrollable jealousy, Gilraen noticed it too, it bothered her too.

"So what did my father want?" she asked him.

"What was that?" Torundir raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm sorry?"

"That side glance. You know he's staring. How long has he been watching you?" he repeated doing his best to control his fury.

Gilraen shifted uncomfortably. "Tonight or in general?"

"The ceremony hall was not the first time?!" Torundir snapped not believing his ears.

"Well… I first noticed him staring at me at Aryana's birthday celebration… and there was another time, when I went buying baby things to the market" Gilraen said reluctantly.

"And why, if I may ask, did you not tell me at once?!" he hissed at her.

"I didn't think it had any meaning. I just thought it was some one-off thing, but it's not… He's staring at me all the time… Like he's going to… It just gives me the creeps the way he stares at me."

Torundir took a deep breath. No, he will not stand up. He will not stand up and not open the fucking pig's fat throat. He will not stand up and rip him into pieces. He will just sit and take another deep breath and let it go. He'll not make a scene in the middle of a royal wedding reception.

"I'm here now" he told Gilraen taking her hand. "But next time anything like this happens, I want to know of it at once. Do you understand?"

Gilraen nodded and relaxed as she leaned against his shoulder.

"So what did my father say?" she asked again, determined to concentrate on something more pleasant than Lord Fucker and his pig eyes following her.

"That he wants to include Turgalon in the act of succession."

"What?" Gilraen's jaw dropped. "Why does he want to do that? He doesn't have to do that. After I… is that really what he said?" she sounded almost touched.

Torundir gave her a fond smile. "He forgave you long ago. He is even starting to forgive me. It's a generous gesture. And I guess we can trust your brother's womanizer self that it'll never be more than a gesture. I would not like to see my son on the throne."

"Oh goodness, me neither. I don't want all that stress and burden for him I watched my father endure for years…"

"Well, being king is possibly that hardest work there is" Torundir nodded. "Given that you want to be a good king, and your father is a great king."

"…I hope he is doing well…" Gilraen mused.

"Your father?" he blinked.

She chuckled. "No, Turgalon."

"Ah. He is doing perfectly well, sweetheart, just don't worry about him."

"I hope so. Anyway about the succession act. That's just… I can't say how very nice that is of my father. I'll go and thank him. Well, when he is alone."

Torundir frowned. "Why only then?"

"It's a long story and includes my mother, I'll tell you at home" Gilraen replied with a tiny sad grimace.

Another story of the queen… And Gilraen's expression didn't promise much good.

The feast resumed in peace for another hour. Torundir finished eating in company of his wife then had a few drinks with the Forlan brothers before he ended up discussing Harad with Beregond over another drink while Gilraen was discussing baby habits and some book they both read with Salarien beside them. It wasn't long before Barahin joined them after he got bored with giving marriage tips to his little brother. Torundir wondered if that was a discussion similar to the one Gilraen had with her sister previously. Well, having spent his youth in the company of Elboron and Prince Eldarion, surely Florian didn't have any questions regarding wedding nights.

"Where's your wife?" Beregond turned to Barahin, after they all got fed up with Harad.

"Somewhere here…" the man shrugged indifferently as he looked around. "Actually, I don't know… Hell, where is she?" he murmured with a frown not finding her.

"Over there" Torundir gestured towards the end of the dais where Ëlyel chatted with Princess Sybille as he browsed the crowd.

"Oh thanks heavens" Barahin sighed. "This last moon is killing, every time I can't find her, I'm starting to think she is lying somewhere in labor already…"

Torundir heard Beregond laughing, but he himself just nodded absently. It was not Ëlyel, his eyes followed. The moment, he had been waiting for all night finally came.

"Excuse me" he said to his friends and standing up, made his way for the left door of the Great Hall.

A cool breeze touched his face as he turned out onto the hallway and walked down to the very end of it, enjoying the fresh air, the lack of crowd. There was only one person apart from him on the next corridor. The situation could not have been more perfect.

"A gulp of fresh air?" he asked with a casual smile as he caught up with the man. He himself was a bad actor too, but this one was so stupid he would never see through him.

"Oh…" the man muttered in sudden discomfort once spoken to. "Yes, all the crowd inside there… Someone even spilled wine all over me" he gave a chuckle as he gestured at the doublet tightening on his enormous torso.

Someone… It was you who spilled it, fucking pig, in your disgusting urgency to stuff yourself, Torundir thought and gave him another smile.

"Shame, it is. That's such a fine doublet and jerkin."

"Thread with southern silk" that bloody idiot replied almost proud.

"Ah. That's why the rich colors" Torundir nodded. "Match your eyes. You should be careful not to lose them."

"My clothes?" he chuckled with an amused grin.

"Your eyes" Torundir returned his smile. "Because next time I catch them staring after my wife like that, I will carve them out myself" he went on, his voice ice cold.

Theoron paled and failed to hide it. "Like what? I don't know what you are talking about…"

"Don't you now?" he sneered at the man. "Like she doesn't know if you'll rip off her clothes the next moment or not."

"That…" Theoron took a nervous breath. "…is a ridiculous accusation, my lord."

"Do you find me ridiculous?" Torundir hissed in a dangerously low voice. "I hope you'll find this ridiculous too" he growled at the man drawing his hunter knife from his boots, making the fat fucking bastard back up to the wall, trembling like a greasy pig he was. "I hope you'll find it ridiculous when I run this blade through your gut."

"Please… I didn't—"

"If I catch you sniffing after my wife again" Torundir cut him across pushing his dagger to the man's throat as he held him with one hand by the neck of his silk fucking thread doublet so he wouldn't squirm away. "If I see you going near her, or heavens forbid, put your greasy hand on her, I swear I'll open your fucking guts, hang you by your own entrails and leave you there for my dogs to feed on your fat fucking arse. Did I make myself clear, or do I still sound ridiculous to you?"

"N-no…" he pressed out in a squeaky voice. "You d-did. You did. I'll n-never… never ever…"

"Get the fuck out of my sight and never look at my wife again" Torundir released him withdrawing his knife.

The coward piece of shit scurried off like a mouse. A fat, pervert, craven mouse. Torundir sheathed his dagger and turned to return to the Great Hall.

He never made more than five steps before a familiar voice spoke up behind him.

"Handling issues with your usual sense of honor and respect for other people?"

Torundir halted and took a deep breath. Understanding issues with your usual sense of fullness and respect for things you have no idea about?

"As always" he turned around inclining his head.

"Of course now with your son in the act of succession, you feel entitled to do anything…"

He could only reply either something very rude to that or nothing at all. And it was best to remain silent. Not like his response was required to roll on this conversation or whatever it was.

"You must be happy, your work is half done."

Torundir had no idea how he managed to refrain from rolling his eyes at this level of pathetic paranoia. Like he didn't have better things to do than plot to take over the throne…

"Your offspring doesn't belong there. He should never be included…"

Why didn't he just walk away actually, instead of listening to all this crap?!

"That should be the first thing in life we agree on, my queen" he said bluntly.

"And it will be the last, if the Valar are gracious" she replied coolly.

That should serve as cue. Torundir bowed his head in agreement and turned to leave.

"Do not. Turn your back. On me" she uttered, voice trembling with tension. "Do not dare turn your back to me after what you have done to my daughter, to my family! She would still be sitting with us, she would still be happy if it wasn't for you!"

Torundir halted and turned around. "She is happy" he said concentrating hard not to raise his voice. "And Your Majesty must not forget that she ran to me from you and never the other way around."

The queen paled in fury. "Because you infected her mind! You turned her against us! She was just an innocent little girl! An innocent child until you put your filthy hands on her!"

"She was a grown woman and it was her choice to turn to me because she felt alone, because all you did was trying to turn her into her sister! She was no child or little girl to get so easily manipulated by bad men. She chose me!" he retorted.

"She was sixteen! She was still a seventeen year old child when she had to bear your whelp!" she cried out in outrage.

"She is not an elf!" Torundir snapped at her losing his patience. "She was not a child at sixteen or seventeen. She is not an elf, and nor am I, Your Majesty. We didn't have decades to play around and wait for each other."

The queen looked as though she was going to hit him. She took a deep breath before she spoke again. "Do not dare speak to me like that again" she hissed.

Torundir inclined his head in apologies. Maybe he did go a little too far. But she did so. "And Your Majesty should not dare speak of my son like that again" he said.

Arwen's face was livid.

"My queen" he bowed his head and left her. It was for the best to finish this conversation as fast as possible.

This woman got on his nerves. He understood the pain of the mother losing her daughter, but for the sake of seven bleeding hells, he did not rape Gilraen and hold her a hostage. She was happy with him... He just wanted to finally get back to the Great Hall and resume talking and drinking. No, in fact, he wanted to go home. He wanted to go home with Gilraen to their son and go to sleep with his wife in his arms.

Hmm... so does this make you like him less or more?

I don't think I abused Arwen at all, she is kind of right here. But if anybody feels offended... well, I'm sorry.

I'm planning on three more chapters. And I sincerely hope I'll be able to update next weekend without any problem. And... no, I think that was all, so I'll just stop talking and get some dinner. Enjoy spring and go to the theater! :))