It was night and the air was cold. Namir had wrapped a blanket round his shoulders to starve off the cold as he crept soundlessly up the stairs. He was not allowed to be out of his cell in human form but he was willing the brave the punishment if he was caught. At the top of the stairs was a trapdoor made of stone. It was heavy and he had to force his whole weight against it to get it to move. Twenty years ago he would have been able to move it with little effort but captivity had weakened him. After a few pants and resting his shoulders against the stone it shifted and pushed open. Namir half stumbled up the last few steps with his haste.

"Namir?" Gandalf's voice was weaker but surprised. The moon bathed the old man in silver light and the air up on the roof of the tower was bitterly cold. His hair was in disarray and bruises were blooming on his skin. He looked battered and frail. Namir almost slipped on the smooth stone as he threw himself towards the wizard with a whining keen. Gandalf reached out his hands and half caught him with a gasp. The skin-changer burrowing his head into the man's shoulder, arms clutching with a fearful desperation that broke the old man's heart. "Namir, we thought you lost. What happened?" Namir let out a choked sob as he inhaled the familiar scent. Gandalf had been around all his life, it was like hope had reignited in his soul upon seeing him. He had ben trapped for so long that a part of his mind had given up at ever seeing his family again. 

He pulled back, tears dripping down his face. Gandalf's gaze was slightly wet too as the wizard took him in. The collar on his neck and the scar covered skin. The black damage done by the dark magic that radiated off the metal. "What have they done to you", he sighed as soothed and hand over Namir's head. The skin-changer shook his head and made another soft sad noise. When he opened his mouth, it was to cough. His voice was horse with disuse but still clear enough. 

"Gandalf. What is happening? Why are you here?" 

The wizard sighed and began explaining about the ring and Frodo. Namir listening with wide eyed attention. His brown eyes flickering with yellow under the light of the moon, slitted and unblinking.  He didn't interrupt once, just listened with a silence that was usual. Normally the cat was only this still when asleep or hunting prey. His eyes were different from the last time Gandalf had seen them. They held a desolate sadness that matched the skinny frame and sun deprived skin. The man looked like hell. When Gandalf finished, Namir tugged the blanket round his shoulders closer. 

"How is my father? How is Legolas?" The questions were soft and pleading. Gandalf sighed. 

"Your father is alright. He still protects your land and your home and Legolas is fine. He has been looking for you". 

Namir let out a weak sob and more tears fell down his cheeks at the news. "I was afraid that the orcs went back for them. They are safe". His shoulders shuddered as a weight born from worry and fear lifted. After a minute of deep breathing, his face rose and he took a breath. "You need to escape from here". 

"I have called for rescue", Gandalf reassured. "Let me have a look at your collar". His fingers stroked along the metal then drew back with an accompanying hiss of pain. The metal had burned. Namir wasn't surprised by the sudden burning. Gandalf frowned at his fingers and the black stains on Namir's skin. "This is foul magic", he muttered. 

"You won't be able to get if off", Namir stated with resignation. "I have tried. Each time I try the blackness grows". He held up his hands in example. Gandalf took in the sharp claws and the blue black stains that coated the skin all the way up to his forearms where it faded. It looked like he had dipped his hands into bowls of paint. Gandalf didn't touch the collar again but examined it with a critical eye as the wind around them howled. 

"This is a dark and loathsome spell", he muttered in furious horror. "Only the death of the caster can free you I'm afraid". 

Namir sighed. "I was afraid of that". He looked around over the stormy night and the dark shadow of the clouds above. "You need to get out of here. Saruman is working with Sauron to build an army".  He glanced around again then stood up, one hand clutching at his blanket. "I need to go before they notice I'm not in my cell. Tell Legolas and my father that I'm alive, please". Gandalf didn't get a chance to reply before the skin-changer was darting back to the ope trap door and dropping down it. The stone fell shut with a quiet sound and the wizard was left up on the roof of the tower alone. 

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Hours later, Namir was awoken by the door to his cell bursting open. He jerked upright as Saruman strode in with a flurry of white robes. He had this look on his face that instantly had Namir tumbling out of bed and onto his feet. A second lost to a slight stumble as he rose but Saruman's hand was rising with his staff. The metal cracked harshly across Namir's ribs and he fell back with a cry into the stone wall. "What did I tell you about leaving your cell at night?" He hissed. Namir crumpled to the floor as a second blow struck his spine. It knocked the air from his lungs and he gasped for breath. Saruman gazed down at him with no empathy. "He escaped. Now what did you tell him?" 

Namir coughed. His ribs and back burned and throbbed as he shifted enough to raise his head. "Just kill me already" he snarled. 

Saruman's gaze was cold as ice. "Patience. You'll bend to my will soon enough". 

Namir pushed himself up onto his elbows to bare his teeth at the man. "I am never going to be your soldier". 

Saruman didn't bother answering him. Instead he just raised a hand and the metal round Namir's neck began to burn. The skin-changer collapsed, clawing at his neck as the magic blistered his skin and stuffed his throat. His screams echoing off the stone. 

unedited