Monsters & Horror

Which, in hindsight, explained why the poor male had looked increasingly frustrated over the last several months.

The realisation came during a feast.

Ironically, it was not the King who caused it, it was another female.

You were seated among several hunters near one of the lower tables while stories and laughter filled the enormous hall, your attention divided between the meal before you and the conversation happening around you. Eventually, the discussion shifted toward mates.

You immediately lost interest. Until one female began describing how her mate had courted her.

“He brought me trophies,” she explained proudly.

Several others nodded.

“Mine too.”

“My mate dedicated a hunt to me.”

“Mine gifted me a weapon.”

“Mine kept appearing wherever I happened to be.”

The table erupted into amused agreement.

You froze, and looked down at your plate, then back at them.

“Trophies?” you asked.

“Of course.”

“Hunting trophies?”

“Yes.”

You swallowed.

“A dedicated hunt?”

The female nodded.

“A great honour.”

Something began forming in your stomach.

“What kind of weapon?”

“A blade.”

You stared.

The female continued eating. Completely unaware that she had just shattered your understanding of the last year.

A blade.

A dedicated hunt.

Trophies.

Your mind immediately began replaying every interaction you had experienced with the King over the previous months.

The skull from the northern valleys.

The river beast claws.

The dedicated hunt.

The hides.

The horns.

The gifts.

All of them. One after another. A horrible realisation slowly began climbing its way into your consciousness.

“No.”

The female looked up.

“What?”

You shook your head.

“No.”

“Are you unwell?”

“No.”

Your voice sounded slightly strained. The female frowned.

“You look unwell.”

Because suddenly you remembered every single time you had smiled brightly and said:

“Thank you.”

Before walking away.

You spent the rest of the feast staring into the distance. The female beside you eventually became concerned. You barely noticed because your thoughts kept circling the same horrifying possibility.

The King had been courting you.

For months.

And you had not realised.

Not once. Not even slightly.

The next morning, the King found you standing outside the armoury.

The moment he approached, you immediately became aware of every gift he had ever given you. Which made maintaining eye contact surprisingly difficult.

“You are behaving strangely.”

You nearly jumped.

“I am not.”

“You are.”

“I am perfectly normal.”

The King stared. You stared back, then his eyes narrowed slightly.

“You know.”

“What?”

“You know.”

Your heart nearly stopped. The King studied your face. Then, for the first time since you had known him, something suspiciously close to satisfaction appeared in his expression.

“You finally understand.”

Mortification swept through you.

“Oh stars.”

The King’s chest rumbled.

“You understand.”

“I didn’t know.”

“You did not.”

“I genuinely didn’t know.”

“I know.”

“Oh, this is embarrassing.”

The rumble became stronger. The enormous warlord was enjoying this. To your surprise, he did not press further.

Instead, after watching you suffer through several moments of obvious embarrassment, he finally spoke.

“Hunt with me.”

You blinked away the confusion and the embarrassment.

“What?”

“Hunt with me.”

The words were simple, yet somehow they felt different now. Everything felt different now.

“You are asking me on a hunt.”

“Yes.”

“This is a date.”

The King looked genuinely confused.

“It is a hunt.”

“It is also a date.”

“It is a hunt.”

The King’s mandibles shifted slightly, a small victory.

The hunt took place three days later and for perhaps the first time since entering the clan, you felt nervous.

Not because of the prey.

Not because of the danger.

Because you wanted to impress him. Which was ridiculous.

The King already respected you. He had clearly respected you enough to spend months attempting to court you and yet the desire remained. You wanted him to see exactly why you had earned your place within the clan.

The prey was enormous.

Fast.

Aggressive.

Everything a worthy hunt should be. The moment combat began, instinct took over.

The nervousness disappeared. Years of training replaced it.

The creature charged, you moved.

The beast roared. You countered. Steel flashed. Blood followed.

The battle descended into chaos, and within that chaos, you thrived.

By the time the fight ended, you stood atop the creature’s body, breathing heavily while dark blood covered your armour and sword.

The beast lay dead beneath your feet. The King stared.

You looked down, then back up.

“What?”

He didn't answer, but he did look impressed.

The King approached slowly. His gaze never leaving yours.

“You continue to surprise me.”

“I do?”

“Yes. You are brave.”

He stepped closer.

“You are intelligent.”

Closer.

“You are strong.”

Closer.

The other hunters immediately found reasons to look elsewhere.

“You are respected.”

Your pulse thundered The King stopped directly before you, towering over you. Yet somehow making the world feel smaller.

“You are everything I hoped for.”

For once in your life, you had absolutely no response. The King lowered himself slightly.

Not kneeling, but enough. Enough to meet your eyes fully.

“I have attempted courtship.”

You covered your face.

“I know.”

“I was unsuccessful.”

“You were very unsuccessful.”

The King’s mandibles twitched.

You suspected that was the closest he would ever come to rolling his eyes, then his expression softened.

A rare thing.

“Will you be my mate?”

The question hung between you.

Your chest tightened because while the words were simple, their meaning held a great deal. Suddenly all those trophies meant something.

Every hunt.

Every gift.

Every effort.

Every attempt.

Months of devotion hidden behind the customs of a species different from your own.

You smiled, then reached for his hand.

“Yes.”

Happiness immediately swept through his entire posture.

Adorable.

And before you could stop yourself, you laughed.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to realise.”

The King pulled you closer.

“You are worth the wait.”

And judging by the way his chest continued rumbling long after that, he meant every word.

Part I

~Masterlist~

You had been there long enough to build a reputation for yourself as a capable hunter whose skill had been earned through skill rather than privilege.

The clan accepted you.

It wasn't easy, even with your earned respect, but eventually, they all accepted you.

You had fought beside them, trained beside them, bled beside them, even if your blood is a different colour.

Over time, their respect had become something genuine rather than merely tolerated.

Some still viewed you as unusual, a human occupying a place no human was ever meant to stand, yet none questioned your right to remain among them.

Least of all the King.

In hindsight, perhaps that should have been your first clue.

The trophy itself had been magnificent.

You still remembered the day he presented it to you.

The hunters had only recently returned from a difficult journey beyond the northern territories, a journey that had apparently ended with the death of a creature so dangerous that even veteran warriors spoke of it with admiration. When the King entered the gathering hall carrying the enormous skull in one hand, every eye followed his movements as he crossed the room with the confidence only he possessed.

Then, to your complete surprise, he stopped directly in front of you.

Without a word, he lowered the skull onto the table.

You stared.

The entire hall stared.

The King stared.

There was a moment of silence before you finally leaned forward to examine the trophy more closely.

“By all the stars. This thing is incredible.”

The creature’s teeth alone were nearly the length of your forearm, while deep scars carved across the bone hinted at the ferocity of the battle that had claimed its life.

Your excitement grew with every second.

“How large was it?”

The King straightened slightly.

“Large.”

“Obviously.”

You reached out carefully, tracing one of the massive fangs.

“Where did you find it?”

“The northern ice valleys.”

“How many hunters went after it?”

“Twenty.”

Your eyes widened further.

“And only one skull came back?”

A low rumble sounded from his chest. You would later learn that it was meant to be a pleased sound.

At the time, you assumed he was simply proud of the hunt itself.

“Thank you. This is one of the finest trophies I’ve ever seen.”

The King remained perfectly still.

You smiled.

Then, entirely unaware that you had just destroyed months of preparation, you gathered the skull and carried it back to your quarters.

The King watched you leave.

Across the hall, several older hunters exchanged knowing looks.

One of them quietly left before the King could decide to take his frustration out on somebody unfortunate enough to be standing nearby.

Unfortunately for the King, things only became worse from there.

Several weeks later, another gift was presented.

This time, it was a collection of claws taken from a vulture capable of tearing apart heavily armoured prey.

You loved them.

You mounted them on the wall.

You thanked him enthusiastically.

Nothing changed.

Months passed.

The gifts kept on coming.

A polished spine from a desert beast.

Rare hides from distant worlds.

An enormous set of horns that barely fit through your doorway.

Every single time, your reaction remained exactly the same.

You were delighted.

You were grateful.

You were completely oblivious.

Meanwhile, the King’s confusion grew into genuine frustration.

By Yautja standards, his intentions could not have been more obvious.

He was presenting trophies.

Valuable trophies.

Personal trophies.

Trophies acquired during hunts which were important enough to become part of clan history.

The message should have been unmistakable.

Instead, his chosen human only kept thanking him.

At one point, he personally dedicated a successful hunt in your honour.

You thanked him for that as well. By the end of the year, nearly the entire clan knew what was happening.

More importantly, nearly the entire clan found it hilarious.

The King did not.

Eventually, after presenting what should have been an absolutely undeniable display of courtship and receiving yet another cheerful expression of gratitude in return, he reached a decision that wounded his pride more deeply than any weapon ever had.

The problem was not him.

The problem was humans.

Human courtship made no sense.

Determined to solve the mystery, he began gathering information from every source available to him, questioning traders, translators, scholars, and elderly humans who had spent decades living among Yautja clans.

The answers only made things worse.

Some claimed humans preferred flowers.

Others insisted on jewellery.

One particularly confusing individual spent nearly an hour explaining poetry.

Poetry.

The King genuinely considered throwing him out of an airlock.

Then, finally, one elderly woman offered information that actually seemed useful.

“Historically?” she said thoughtfully. “Warriors sometimes exchanged weapons. A fine sword was a very meaningful gift.”

A weapon.

Something practical.

Something valuable.

Something worthy.

For the first time in months, he finally felt hopeful.

And thus began the creation of the sword.

Not just any sword.

Your sword.

The finest weapon he had ever commissioned.

Every detail was chosen specifically for you, from the balance of the blade to the shape of the grip, while master craftsmen spent months refining the design until it matched your fighting style perfectly. Alongside the weapon came armour crafted with equal care, a set designed not merely for battle but for status, its markings and decorations making one fact abundantly clear.

Whoever wore it stood beside the King himself.

By the time the presentation day arrived, the entire clan already knew what was happening.

The only person who remained unaware was you.

Part II

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ