Legolas found his father in the halls of starlight. A series of circled rooms with walls of curved wood and pillars holding up the ceiling. Small pools of water dotted the floor, reflecting down the night sky that shone between the open patches in the ceiling. Thranduil was standing by one of the largest pools, the stars shining on the deep blue water around his silver robes as the King gazed down into their depth. Legolas hesitated as he approached. He stoped a few feet away and awaited for the king to acknowledge his presence. For a short time the king remained silent and the echoes of the celebration taking place through the city were the only noise. After a while, he spoke up.
"How are our new prisoners?" The king turned and Legolas saw the cold blue eyes he had inherited.
"They are still loud and obnoxious". The dwarves had been shouting insults as he left. The only cell that had been silent had been the one belonging the Skin-changer. He had been curled up like a child. At the memory, the elf opened his mouth to speak then closed it again. Thraundil's eyes caught the action and he waved a hand.
"What do you wish to say Legolas? Speak".
"Their guide", Legolas began slowly. "He is half elf"-
"That does not give him the right to roam through our lands. His punishment is to be the same as his friend's", Thranduil interrupted with a swish of his robes. The starlight glinting off his crown of branches and the blonde of his hair as he turned his gaze back to the water. Legolas wondered sometimes if his father was thinking of his mother when he stared like that into the night. There was something about his gaze that always seemed to be sad.
"He is half elf, and a skin-changer". Legolas clarified. "I believed the skin-changers to be extinct and only belong to the pages of books".
Thranduil looked up again with undisguised curiosity. "They are", he stated. "Only two remain and they live about a day's ride from our forest to the west. He must be the cat beast that likes to explore our lands".
"How come I was never aware of this?" Legolas could feel frustration on his tongue but he bit it back. His father knew of the cat that had roped their lands. He had known that this cat was more than a mere beast. The elf prince could feel anger bubbling but he reined in control of it. Looking back, it was clear that the cat beast had been more than an animal. Too smart and those eyes, far too intelligent. It had been a shock to see those eyes in the face of a man and suddenly, the openness he had allowed himself to show around the cat had begun to feel like a sham. The cat had been a man, a man who knew him but Legolas did not know in return. It felt unbalanced and almost dishonest.
"Why should you need to know of this?" Thranduil replied with slight confusion. "Skin-changers are nothing much more than the beasts they change into. Their kind was wiped out by orcs over three thousand years ago. The continuing existence of the survivors does not concern me". His tone was dismissive.
"He speaks, not our language but he still speaks. He admired the beauty of our halls and fought with more skill with a sword than I have seen before. How can he be a beast when he shows such soul?" The words poured from his mouth before he could stop them. The silence that followed had the king's eyes on him. For a second, Legolas felt like a child again as his father analysed him with a unreadable expression.
"Don't grow fond of the beast, Legolas", Thranduil spoke, tone a warning. "He may pass for a person but there is still an animal under his skin".
For a second Legolas wanted to say that the 'beast' had saved his life. Had never harmed him. But he could from the expression on the king's face that it would only make it worse. Instead he nodded and Thranduil relaxed slightly. "I shall take my leave", he inclined his head and turned on his heel to leave.
"Legolas", his father's voice stopped him. "Be careful. Cats are not creatures that can be tamed or influenced. They are not trustworthy to anyone but themselves. Don't let the human image influence your feeling's on the beast". The prince then left. The words rolling over in his mind.
He let his feet carry him past the celebrations ringing through the city. The feat of starlight in full swing as the witching hour approached. His kin making merry would have usually brought a smile to his face but this time his thoughts were full and not even the party could break his mood. His feet carried him down the spiral stairs to the prison cells below and as he rounded the corner, he stopped. Tauriel was seated on a step next to one of the cells. She was talking to the dwarf she had saved, a young one judging by his beard. She was smiling and so was he. Legolas felt like he was intruding on a private moment, which did not help the emotions in his gut. He had thought that his admiration for Tauriel had been love, but it was clear she did not feel the same.
His gaze flickered down the hall to where he knew the skin-changer was confined. The imprisonment was obviously wearing on him. No wild creature liked to be trapped. He turned back up the stairs and away from the cells. Those stairs would take him too close to Tauriel and her Dwarf and for some reason he did not want them to see him. Instead he took a different route down to the cells, coming round to the skin-changer's cell from the other side where less dwarves were likely to see him. Some of them glared at him as he went passed but none shouted anymore insults. When he got to the cell, he stopped.
The man was no longer by the bars. Instead he was pressed right back into the furtherest corner and was huddled up in the shadow, legs up and arms wrapped around them like a kitten. The light of the torches didn't reach back that far but when he looked up, his eyes reflected back the orange glow. It was this that made the cat obvious. His eyes seemed to glisten brightly in the shadows, alive and sharp. "You came back", the voice was small and rough. He had been crying, Legolas realised. The knowledge clogged up his throat and he swallowed.
"Yes. What is your name?" Legolas kept his voice soft and gentle. The skin-changer was scared, so he spoke with he same tone he used when speaking with children or to calm anxious horses. He slowly crouched down, watching the glowing eyes follow his movements, until he was seated on the floor on the other side of the bars. Body language open.
"Namir". The word was hesitant.
"Namir", Legolas repeated. "It is nice to meet you. I thank you for saving me that time".
Namir's head tilted to the side and he seemed to be thinking over something. Then he unfolded himself and crawled slowly closer. Legolas remained still as the other man's form entered the light. He moved like the cat he was, slinking slowly forwards while keeping low to the ground, ready at any second to dart back. It was a far cry to the angry body language he had displayed a few hours before. The time trapped had obviously dulled the anger into fear. "Legolas", Namir spoke his name softly, eyes big and beseeching. "Can you let me out?"
Legolas shook his head and the expression on Namir's face fell. "I cannot. The king has ordered that you face the same punishment as the dwarves". The man let out a slight growl, a rumble in his throat. "I am sorry", Legolas said and found that he meant it.
"Apologies mean nothing to me", Namir snarled and he was crawling back into his corner. He wrapped his arms around himself and the elf wondered if he was cold. His cloths did not cover much but the action was more to do with comfort than chill.
Legolas sighed, wanting nothing more to offer the man some comfort. He could offer nothing but his presence. "How old are you?" He asked, eager to keep the conversation going.
"Three thousand and forty", The reply came back blunt.
"You are my elder then, for I am only two thousand and twenty".
This had the glowing eyes widen and Namir crept slightly closer again. "I thought you to be my age. You are a mighty warrior for only two thousand", his words were slightly curious and the blonde welcomed the change.
"I thank you for the compliment. I have never met a swordsman who fights like you. How did you learn?"
Namir sat down on the other side of the bars, fingers tapping his leg. "Beorn, my adoptive father, he taught me some but he mostly fights in his bear form. So I learnt from passing travellers and what I picked up myself". His voice was slightly more relaxed now but he still seemed guarded.
"I learnt from tutors hired by my father", Legolas supplied, without needing Namir to ask. The exchange of information kept things equal. "Where did you get your long sword?"
"I stole it from an orc I killed when I was just turned two thousand".
Legolas' eyebrows raised slightly. He had seen the length of the blade, it had obviously been forged for someone of considerable height and stature. Someone much bigger than Namir. It was a wonder the man could wield it as he did. "My weapons were a coming of age gift from my father. I can handle knives well enough but I prefer my bow".
"I know. I have seen you fight enough times", Namir nodded. Legolas wondered how many times the panther had watched him during his patrols, unseen through the trees. Judging from the knowing spark in his eyes, it had been far more times than the elf anticipated.
"Why did you save me back then?"
Namir blinked at the question. Legolas watched him as the man shifted closer to the bars. He was close enough now that the elf could reach through and touch him. "I was curious", the reply was a soft whisper. "You are beautiful and I could not let a dark creature as a spider kill you. It would have been a waste".
"Why did you never tell me who you were?" Blue eyes met brown and held.
"The forest confuses minds. As a cat I could travel freely. As a man I could fall to the illusions. You wouldn't leave the forest and I could not be human there".
"You were human when I captured you".
"I cannot communicate as a cat", Namir pointed out with a frown. Legolas found the expression strangely endearing. "Also I was afraid".
"What were you afraid of?"
"This". The word was hollow and sad. Namir gestured to the cell around him. "I was afraid of this".
"I would not have done that". Legolas stated. If he had met Namir differently, without the dwarves, he would not have taken him prisoner.
Namir's face was sad. "I can't believe you". Legolas stared at the skin-changer and found that he had no argument. He watched as Namir turned and crawled back into his corner. The conversation over and a bad taste left in his mouth.
unedited