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A King's Bond, A Prince's Heart

Summary:

She had known him since his birth. She had watched over him as he grew, as she did for his father, and his father before him. She was his best friend...
And now his worst enemy.
Believing the words of his grandfather, and witnessing the betrayal of her father, he sealed his heart against the one who had once protected him. But now, with his homeland on the line, is he willing to trust her again? Or will their bond be forever broken?

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Chapter 1: Prologue

Notes:

Somehow this chapter and the following got switched. I fixed it.

Chapter Text

A pained howl bounced off the walls of the expertly hewn cave. The laboring mother lay on a pile of lush furs and pelts, her sisters doing everything they could to make the birth easier.

On the opposite side of the tapestries, which separated them from the remainder of the cave, a white-haired man with piercing blue eyes paced, his pale hands clutched behind his back.

"Please, Dimaethor." A blonde male with pointed ears gently spoke up from his seat next to the wall. "Worrying yourself will do Malrin no good."

Dimaethor sighed, running his clawed fingers through his thick white tresses, displaying his pointed ears. "I realize that, Thranduil. But…" The Elven King tilted his head. "But I cannot fight the urge much longer. She is my mate. I am bound by instinct to protect her."

Thranduil sighed softly. "She is not being attacked, Mellon. She is giving birth to your heir." Dimaethor nodded, knowing he was right. Thranduil motioned for Dimaethor to sit. "Now, please. Sit."

With a heavy sigh, Dimaethor sunk beside his friend. "I am grateful you are here, Thranduil. I do not know if I would be able to handle this alone."

The Elf smirked softly. "That is what I am here for, Mellon."

  ~Ÿ~

"Alpha." Dimaethor looked up when a maid poked her head through the gap in the tapestries. The birth had lasted for more than two hours, and many of Dimaethor's fellows had joined their leader in support of his mate. The females had taken turns relieving each other, giving the laboring mother new support. "You may come in now."

"Good luck."

Dimaethor clasped forearms with Thranduil, nodding. With a deep breath, he stepped through the tapestries. Once his eyes adjusted to the lower light, he felt his heart swell with love and pride.

His mate, Malrin, lay resting on the furs. A blanket made of deerskin rested over her body. Her blonde hair was slicked to her forehead with sweat, and her breathing was still slightly shallow. Nevertheless, her blue eyes cracked open when she felt another presence, smiling at the sight of her mate. "Hello, my love."

Dimaethor quickly crossed the room, kneeling by her side. She smiled at him, leaning her head into his hand when he rested it on her hair. "Hello, my heart."

Malrin's smile grew. With some effort, she sat up on her elbow. In doing so, the blanket fell aside to reveal the wrapped bundle cuddled to her chest. Dimaethor's breath caught in his throat. "Say hello to your daughter."

Carefully, Dimaethor slipped his clawed fingers under the bundle. He lifted the infant into his arms with the touch of a moth, turning her to see her face. His eyes widened at the sight.

The babe had white hair, the same as him.

"Malrin…" he breathed, unable to say anymore.

Malrin smirked at him. "She has eyes of starlight." She whispered. Reaching a hand up, she stroked the cheek of the infant with the back of her claw. "She has your stare, too."

As if the newborn could understand her mother, her eyelids fluttered open, revealing irises of light grey. She stared up at her father, an inquisitive whimper rumbling in her throat. Dimaethor growled back, comforting the infant in his arms. The babe giggled, showing off toothless pink gums.

"Did you think of a name, love?" Dimaethor nodded. Lifting a hand, he waggled his finger at the child. She latched onto his finger, instinctively avoiding his claw. Malrin smiled tiredly. "Well, go tell the others. I'm too tired."

"Of course." Dimaethor kissed her forehead. "I love you, my heart. I'm proud of you."

Malrin hummed contentedly. "Thank you, but she is the only one. Ever."

The white-haired male chuckled. "As you wish." Once Malrin drifted into sleep's sweet embrace, Dimaethor stood. Careful to not jostle his newborn daughter, he walked out from behind the tapestries. The council had gathered while he was inside, and all stood when he emerged.

"Behold, Lothiual Silefphind," Dimaethor turned the babe so all could see her. All gathered gasped at the sight of her snow-white hair and light grey eyes, which swept curiously across the room. "My heir and the next Nimpgorphen of the ForGorphen."