Namir's legs kept pace as they flew through the corridors of Theoden's hall. Aragorn in the lead with Legolas and the skin changer on his heels. The narrow corridor making it difficult to move as quickly as they wanted, still when they hit the door to the guest room it was with a crashing bang. The door burst open and the three men stumbled through to see what awaited them. Pippin was on the floor writhing in pain. A round glass ball that Namir recognised from Saruman's tower, in the hobbit's grasp. Pippin was screaming. Merry staring with shocked eyes.

The Skin-changer reared back at the feel dark magic that was emanating from the orb. Claws hands coming up to shield him as a snarl was ripped from his mouth. Dark magic felt foul and slimy, like death and decay. He reared back with a yowl, phantom pain burning around his neck and choking the air of his lungs. As his legs gave way under the sudden panic, Aragorn lunged forwards and snatched the palantir from the hobbit's hands. Legolas caught Namir at the same time the palantir left Pippin's touch. Then Aragorn was collapsing under the onslaught of dark magic.  The man crumbling to the ground.

Namir was gasping, distressed whines leaving his throat as the ball rolled past him over the floorboards. He was scrambling up, hands and feet clawing at the elf's clothes as he climbed up and twisted. Legolas keeping his balance as the cat in human form clambered over him as if he was a tree. Ending up on the blonde's back, legs wrapped around his waist and clawed hands digging into his shoulders as Namir peered through a curtain of hair. Luckily the palantir did not roll too far before Gandalf was on his feet and throwing a sheet over it. Like a candle blown out, the sinister presence of dark magic disappeared. The white wizard wrapping the Palantir in the sheet so that nothing may see through the glass. From his position on Legolas' back, Namir took a shuddering breath. His heartbeat thrumming in his ears.

"Fool of a Took!" Gandalf shouted before seeing Pippin's motionless body. The hobbit breathing shallowly as he stared at nothing. Quickly, the man was crossing the room. One hand shoving Merry out of the way as he knelt at Pippin's side. He took one of the hobbit's hands in his own and pressed the other to his forehead. On the floor where he had fallen, Aragorn was coming too. The man sat up, blinking dazedly.

Pippin gasped eyes growing focused. "Forgive me", he stuttered, voice panicked.

"Look at me", Gandalf commanded. "What did you see?"

Aragorn glanced at where Legolas was standing in the still open doorway. His gaze turning into a frown of surprise when he saw the figure clinging to his back. Legolas had one hand on the man's thigh to keep him supported, the other resting on the head half buried into his neck. Namir's claws having retreated and his hold more steadying than clutching, but his pulse was still sharp and he had not removed his face from where it was buried in the junction of the elf's shoulder. Half hidden by dark hair that spilled across the Blonde's tunic like spilt ink.  Legolas was humming softly, the sound almost silent under Pippin's loud, gasping breaths.

"I saw a tree", the hobbit was saying, voice fragile. "It was a white tree, grown out of stone. It was dead. The city was burning".

"Minas tirith", Gandalf muttered, recognising the place Pippin was describing. "Is that what you saw".

"I saw"- Pippin shuddered, voice rising. "I saw him!"  Namir growled, the sound choking off into a whimper at the pronoun. Legolas responded with a calming noise, sharp eyes not moving from the scene in front of him.

"I could hear his voice in my head".

"And what did he tell you?" Gandalf asked. "Speak!"

"He asked me my name". Pippin's voice had dropped back into a whisper. "I didn't answer. He hurt me". Namir twitched at the memory of burning.

"What did you tell him of Frodo and the ring?" Gandalf pressed.

Pippin started at him with wide eyes. "Nothing".

From the corner of the room came a clatter as Gimli's axe fell off the dwarf's bedroll. The dwarf had been passed out drunk for hours, sleeping through the events entirely. His bedroll on the floor behind the door and out of the way. Now, he jerked awake. Everyone stared as he sat up in a sudden motion, eyes staring at nothing. "Take that you rat tailed bastards", he muttered with a rasp, before falling back onto the mattress with a thump and beginning to snore loudly. Everyone stared at him, Namir even shifting his head out of his hiding place to gaze silently at the snoring dwarf. Then Aragorn chuckled. Pippin let out a weak giggle as Merry snorted. Namir felt the amused noise escape Legolas' chest.

Gandalf let Pippin go and sat back with a deep sigh. "Well, I suppose we ought to recover some sleep while the night still lasts", he announced mildly. "We shall need it. Plans are to be made in the morning. Get some rest". The last words were spoken in a much gentler tone as his gaze flickered to the pale Pippin, then over towards Namir.

Legolas nodded at the room in swift parting, not wanting to spend another second around the sinister glass ball. He shifted Namir slightly on his back, not letting him go as he held out his free arm towards Aragorn. The man took it and the blonde pulled him to his feet. Balance perfect despite the full grown man clinging onto his back. When Aragorn was steady, unharmed despite his fainting spell, Legolas clasped Namir's thighs again. The skin-changer in more of a piggyback position than he was before now he was relaxing. The terrified thunder of his heartbeat calming and Namir rested his head gently on Legolas' shoulder, no longer hiding it but exhaustion from the night clinging to him. The elf adjusted his grip into a more gentle hold as he turned and strode from the room. 

"Radag", He muttered softly as they breathed the fresh night air once more. "Do you want to get down?" Namir shook his his head and the Elf smiled. "Then can you let go of my tunic? I fear that it may be unsalvageable soon". Namir glanced at where his clawed hands were gripping. Long jagged tears in the fabric stretched up and around the blonde's chest from where he climbed him like a tree a few minutes before. What made the guilt really hit though, was the red lines across the pale skin underneath. Luckily his claws had not drawn blood but the flesh was red and must sting. Legolas hadn't made any noise, nor had his expression changed. With an embarrassed and apologetic hum, Namir forced his fingers to let their grip slacken and the claws sunk back into his skin until the cat-like talons became human once more. 

"I hurt you". It came out a guilt stricken mumble. "Legolas, I am so sorry". A high pitched noise of distress escaped his throat and he buried his head into the braids of golden hair. 

"Shush". Legolas' legs began to carry them across the sleeping streets towards the guest house where they were staying. He kept his pace steady and his voice ever so gentle. Namir both loved and hated it. The fact that he had hurt his mate was tearing him up inside. To hurt one's mate was to harm yourself. He should put distance between them, but he didn't want to let go. Legolas' grip tightened as he shifted to get down. He could feel the fingers on his thighs, keeping him still and he melted into the warmth of the elf's back. 

The door creaked as Legolas opening it one handed. Neither of them needing light as he kicked it shut behind them and stepped across the floor to the bedroom. Namir let out a chirp of surprise as he was turned and dropped onto the mattress. The blankets under him rumpled from their sleep the with before as he scrambled to sit up. "Legolas", he breathed as the elf swiftly pulled off the ripped and ruined green outer tunic It disappeared across the room followed by the cream inner shirt until the elf was bare chested under the silvery light of the moon streaming through the windows. The red lines from Namir's claws standing out in vivid pinks across his shoulders and up his chest. 

"Radag", Legolas' eyes were startlingly silver blue as he caught a hand in his and raised it to his face. Namir watched, mouth dry as fine archer's hands cupped his palm around the elf's cheek. Legolas smiled at him. "It is alright. Whatever harm you have dealt to me is nothing. It is already healing. You were scared. It is alright. I forgive you. I am not afraid of you Miog". 

Namir sighed at the words, tension and anxiety lifting from his shoulders. "I never want to feel magic so foul again", he breathed, voice verging on a sob. 

"If I had my way, none of it will ever touch you again". Legolas swore. Then he dragged Namir's hand across his face. Their palms of almost equal size if it wasn't for the elf's longer archer fingers. Together, Namir's hand looked rugged and battered, lined with small scars and smudged with dirt. The elf leant into the touch as Namir traced his fingers across the blonde's lips. Namir smiled as purrs began to emanate from his chest. 

"My mate. I will protect you", he swore as he leant forwards to press his forehead to the warm skin of the elf's stomach. The touch warm and reassuring. 

unedited