Chapter one.
A/N: So, if y'all want to know, this is one of the fics where Leggy has siblings, just two, but siblings none the less. One of the main characters of this story, Theoaure, or just Theo, is Legolas's older brother. But, due to Theo's wandering nature, Leggy's still the crown prince. Got it? Good. Let's get started.
:::
Wind howled through the forest, whipping Theo's silver hair around his face as he rode, ears perked to catch any and all sounds. His horse was tired, not so tired that it stopped moving, just a bone weary sort of ache, all the way through it. The bounce in its stride was long gone.
"Come on, Morgan," Said Theo urgently, "We must arrive before dark."
The horse's previously hanging head bobbed upward and it sped up its trot, ignoring the pain in its legs to get its master to safety. It was beautiful horse, dark grey with lighter spots and jet black stockings, its black mane and tail flowing free in the wind. Its mane, about two feet at its longest, seemed impractical, but did not impede the horse's movement in the slightest, simply adding to its beauty.
Theo rode it like a king, albeit a hurried king, sore and tired from to much travel. His perfect posture was only marred by his constantly shifting gaze, always watching, analyzing the forest around him.
There was no sign that they were nearing their destination, they came around a bend in the path and there it was, an archway, gates closed and foreboding looking in the near dark.
Theo didn't need to tell Morgan what to do, the majestic beast stopped on its own, his silver-white eyes cast at the ground.
As soon as the elves on guard saw who it was at their gate, they threw it open as fast as they could, running out to lead Morgan in once it was open.
Theo, knowing the danger was past, relaxed his seat on Morgan's bare back, and before he could even register the darkness at the edge of his vision, he slumped off his horse with a groan, and was caught by the same elves who had opened the gate.
:::
For what seemed like the hundredth time that evening, the healers brushed Thranduil off. Calima, one of them, closed the door to the healing wing with a resounding 'click'. She had told him, as all the others had, that all his son needed was rest, and he'd be fine.
Apparently, Thranduil's constant presence would not be conducive to Theoaure getting rest. The elvenking sighed. Healers were so persnickety.
He was then distracted by his youngest hurtling towards him, a little ball of energy. "Ada! Ada! Where's Theo? Wa's going on?"
Thranduil huffed out a breath. Thwarted for now. Walking to his son, he said, "Theo will be well soon, ion-nin. Soon."