Legolas carried Namir all the way down the mountain. The man limp but breathing in his arms. The elf had been surprised how light the skin-changer had been, expecting him to be heavier. But Namir's human form was skinny and lean and the cat form must have only appeared bigger due to the fur. He wondered distantly as his feet stepped down the steep sloped road that had once led up the to fort, when the skin-changer had last eaten. He was too skinny and his skin too warm. Namir ran hotter than most races but this heat was worrying. The black blood on his skin, which was now also coating Legolas' tunic, stank and the pale skin was blooming with bruises. Namir, despite Thranduil's magic adding a helping hand, was in bad shape and Legolas wanted to get him to a medic as fast as possible. 

Behind him, Thranduil, Tauriel and a group of elf guards followed. Tauriel was just a few steps behind but the other hung back. Thranduil's eyes a piercing gaze on the back of Legolas' neck. Above, the eagles glided. The battlefield and ruins of Dale full of dead orcs. The remains of the armies now searching for their wounded and picking off the surviving orcs. Golden rays of early sunset was just glinting over the horizon and tinging the blood covered grass in orange. Legolas could smell the death as he grew closer. Smoke from Dale, gore and bodily fluids. It was a horrific sight. 

Tauriel gave a short gasp and jogged past Legolas towards the gates of Erebor. He turned and saw a familiar brown haired dwarf near the steps. He was pulling an axe from a orc's skull but looked up as Tauriel drew closer. The axe fell to the ground as he held out his arms, Tauriel folding herself into his embrace. Legolas kept walking as he watched her lean down to pull Kili into a kiss. Both of them were smiling with relief and laughing through their tears. Legolas was glad for her. 

A growl made him turn away from the gates to stare out over the battlefield. Legolas stopped, Namir cradled in his arms as he felt his breath leave him in a gasp. A bear like creature was padding across the field. It looked like a bear but it was huge, the size of both a horse and it's cart. The brown eyes were fixed on the blonde elf as it drew closer. Legolas froze as it drew close enough to sniff at them. The black nose rubbed along Namir's arm as the brown eyes fixed on the sleeping man. Legolas shifted his hold but a low rumbling growl made him pause. "He is alive", he spoke softly. "But he needs a healer". 

The bear let out a huff of air and Namir whimpered in Legolas' arms. The elf hurriedly shifted his hold so that Namir's head was more cushioned against his collarbones. The bear watching him. When Namir had settled again, breath still deep with sleep, Legolas turned his gaze back to the beast. The bear met his gaze and then there was a meaty sound as the form broke and shrunk. Bones reforming and hair receding into the skin. It was a sight not for the faint of heart but the elf didn't move or flinch as the bear reformed into a man. When the skin-changer stood up, he was still huge. Easily the tallest being that Legolas had seen so far. His skin was also covered in orc blood and it dotted his chin and hair. The man wasn't bothered by his nudity, instead he reached out a arm and brushed the hair from Namir's face. "Hush cub". The voice was a rumble, just shy of the bear growl. 

"You must be his father", Legolas greeted. "My name is Legolas". 

"Beorn", the man grunted. He held out his arms wordlessly in an order and Legolas gently transferred Namir over. The younger skin-changer barely stirred at the movement. Eyes closed and limbs limp. Beorn glanced him over then turned his bear eyes, the pupils animal just like Namir's,  on the blonde. "You're Namir's elf. The one he has been meeting in the forest for the past few hundred years". 

Legolas nodded. Beorn sniffed and turned towards Erebor, striding with long steps. The elf walked with him. "I wish to court your son", he spoke up as they walked. Beorn hummed. Legolas couldn't tell what he was thinking. The man was stoic and he dint know enough about skin-changers to be confident about what he was doing. There was so little information on the mostly extinct race. Only Namir and Beorn. 

The bear man glanced over him, taking in his now filthy clothes. They had been clean before he had picked Namir up. Black blood imprinted where the man has lain in his arms and against his chest. "Courting", Beorn muttered. "The elf version of mating. I don't trust elves. You shut yourselves in your cities while the rest of the world struggles. A arrogant and selfish race". 

Legolas couldn't say anything to refute that. Thranduil had often chosen isolation over helping their allies. Those words were true. "That is true", he spoke calmly. "I cannot speak for my people, and I will not. But I can speak for myself and my actions. Your son has saved my life and I have saved his. He gave me back a stolen heirloom of my people and asked permission to court me from my father. I wish to return the gesture". 

Beorn stopped on the steps of Erebor. Kili and Tauriel had disappeared into the crowds of dwarves mingling round the field. The elves having all left for their camp in Dale. Legolas could feel the dwarves staring at him and Beorn curiously. The bear man turned to gaze down at him, the blonde only coming up to his shoulders. "I don't like elves", Beorn rumbled. "I don't like dwarves and nor do I like men. I don't like most races and I hate orcs the most. No one came when my people were dying. It is just my son and me now, yet he is lying in my arms because of a war that should have had nothing to do with us. Tell me, elf prince of Mirkwood, why should I give my son. My only family and the last child of my people, to you?" 

"I have nothing more than any other man to offer", Legolas spoke truthfully. "I intend to renounce my right to the throne and leave my homeland. The last several weeks have opened my eyes and I have realised that I have been sheltered in my forest. There is a whole world to see and more to the races of middle earth than just what I have heard. Namir has shown me that. He has been a dear friend and I hope he can be more. I have nothing to offer him but myself". 

Beorn gazed at him for a long moment and Legolas held his gaze. Then the man grunted and a sight twitch tugged at his lips. He turned back towards the open gates of Erebor where dwarves were coming and going. "Skin-changers", he began. "Mate for life. We hold no love for material things. It is through combat and hunting that we show our prowess as a worthy mate. Namir is a cat. and a fickle one. You will have your work cut out for you". The last words were spoken as they reached the entrance. Legolas smiled. It was permission, bit a reluctant one but permission none the less.

Beorn raised his voice to bellow down into the underground city. "Where is Oakenshield?" Several crowds of dwarves, bloody from battle, jumped. 

"Thorin Oakensheild is dead", Gandalf replied with a sigh. The wizard stepped past them through he gate. "He fell in slaying the white orc". 

Beorn sniffed. "A fine end. Glad the pale bastard is dead. Where is his nephews?" 

"Here!" Kili came running round a corner with Tauriel waiting across the hall. He skidded to an out of breath stop in front of them. "My older brother is injured and currently bed bound. I am in charge in his place". 

"My son is in need of a healer. Since he fought for you, you owe him medical care". 

"Wait! He stole from us and destroyed the Arken Stone, a heirloom of our people!" A cry went up. It was hard to tell which dwarf had spoken but murmurs broke out in the hall.

Kili straightened and shot a glare round the room. "He has also saved the lives of the company on more than one occasion and faced off against Azog to save my brother. He faced off against the dragon with Bard of Laketown and led us through Mirkwood. His destruction of the Arken stone rescued Thorin from the brink of madness. He has done more in defence of our people than any other. Erebor is a friend to the skin-changers. Come, I shall bring you to a healer". The strength in his voice and the challenging glare in his eyes brought silence down on the crowds. 

Kili turned and strode into Erebor, the dwarves all parting like a wave for him. Beorn followed with Gandalf. Legolas hesitated for a second before walking on. His gaze fixed on Namir's head. 

unedited

kili is a bamf prince, you can't tell me otherwise. he and fili take no shit.