Beastly || Legolas

twenty four

"Rest up tonight", Gandalf stated as the three of them walked through the ruins of dale. Blazing torches had been set up along the remains of the walls and they illuminated the stone and sparkles on the light layer of snow. The clatter of armour echoed and distantly infants were crying as the survivors huddled down against the cold. Namir walked on Bilbo's other side, his gift for Legolas still slung over his shoulder and the Arken stone in his hand. His eyes were watching the sparkling colours of the jewel with the same still sharpens they had when he was watching prey. 

"You must leave on the morrow. Get as far away from here as possible". 

"What?" Bilbo looked up at the wizard in alarm. Namir also cocked his head so that his cat eyes were on the man. The Arken stone disappearing into the bag. "I'm not leaving", The hobbit protested. "You picked me as the fourteenth man. I'm not about to leave the company now". 

"There is no company. Not anymore", Gandalf snapped. "I don't like what Thorin will do when he finds out what Namir has done. He may take his rage out on you if he finds out you came here with him". 

"I'm not afraid of Thorin". Bilbo stopped to look up at them.

"Well, you should be", Gandalf scowled. "Don't underestimate the evil of gold. Gold over which a serpent has long brooded. Dragon sickness seeps into the heart of all those who comes near this mountain". 

"Shiny stuff", Namir hummed. "But I still do not understand why wars are fought over them. It is pretty but nothing more. Maybe I should destroy this Stone and rid the world of this treasure". 

Gandalf sighed at him. "The Skin-changers were always a simpler race less prone to greed than others. I fear that destroying it now will not help. Thorin would never believe it". 

"Then I will destroy it with them watching", Namir shrugged. Sure, the dwarves he knew would hate him for it. Any friendship he had earned within the company would turn into bitter hate. Their anger may even put him in danger, but the world would be rid of the stone which sent others mad. He flicked his hair out of his face and looked around at the camp. Eyes fixing on the night sky above, clouds blocking the stars, and wondered where Legolas was. He didn't not want to carry this gift around forever and he definitely was not going to leave it for Thranduil. 

"That may bring their wrath down on you and your father", Gandalf cautioned. 

"If a stone is worth more to them than friendship and the lives I have saved then it should not exist", Namir stated. He yawned, sharp canines glinting. "I am going to bed", He announced as he turned and began walking back towards the golden tents. "Night Bilbo. Let Thorin place all his wrath on me. It will not be good for you to get caught in the cross fire". He waved as he disappeared round the corner. There was no reply as the golden tent came into view. 

When he pushed the flap back open, Thranduil was waiting. Bard now missing. Namir spared the elven king a glance before padding over to where a fire pit was stood and sitting down near the flames. He ran hotter than most, but he still enjoyed warmth. The golden king was still in his seat reading from a green leather bound book and had barely give Namir a glance. It took enough time for the fire to warm Namir up to the point where he was almost uncomfortable before the king closed his book and lifted his gaze. "So, how long have you been meeting with my son?" 

Namir rolled his head round to blink at him in the light of the flames. He was leaning back on his arms, face resting on one shoulder and eyes glowing reflectively. "Depends on if you ask him. I met him almost three hundred years ago or so. But he did not meet me until he took us prisoner in your woods last week". 

Thranduil's eyes were cold and curious, assessing him in a way that would have sent a chill through a lesser man's spine. Namir was both a man and a cat and he didn't care. "It seems you left my son at a disadvantage. Why should you be worthy of him? All I see is a feral Radag".  

Namir bared his teeth in a grin. "And all I see is a statue of unfeeling marble, as cold as death and as frozen as ice. I saved your son when he first fought spiders. I have seen him laugh, I have seen him smile. I listened to him when the weight was too much. Your forest is too murky and full of dark magic for me to have taken human form but I was there. I have known him for about three hundred years. Do you know what I know? Do you know your son?" Namir's gaze did not change, it was piercing and glowing in the light. His expression was calm and almost too knowing. 

Thranduil shifted slightly forwards in his chair, leaning on the arm rest as he gazed at Namir. "What has my son told you? And why, of all the lesser people in this world, do you think you are worthy of him? He is the prince of the Greenwood. You are nothing but a orphan from a extinct race". 

"I am not an orphan", Namir snarled lightly. "I have a father".

Thranduil's lips twitched in slight smugness at the reaction. "Ah the bear beast that roams the grassland to the west of our borders. He is said to be nothing more than a savage beast. Can bears and cats be the same blood? There is little left about your people". 

"He is my father in everything that matters. Blood is lesser compared to those matters". 

"Blood is everything!" Thranduil snapped. He stood up in a flick of golden hair. 

Namir sighed and gave him a look of pity. "That is where you are wrong. I may nor be worthy of your son but at least I listen to him. This gift is for him and only he can accept or decline the gift and my courtship. Your interrogation will not change that". 

Thranduil glared down at him but he did not move. After a few seconds, the elf spat a long slew of elvish and strode out of the room in a whirl of robes. The tent flap sliding into place behind him. Namir let out a yawn and rolled his neck until it clicked. Then he stretched lazily. The tent floor was made soft with rugs and he bundled up his bag of clothes to act as a makeshift pillow as he curled his body around the bag of white jewels. He fell asleep there, in warmth and comfort, mind replaying those nights under the moon where Legolas would greet him with a smile. 

unedited