The Golem King

Female Reader x Male Monster

Originally Posted: October 28th, 2017

For years your kingdom has been at war with the Golem. For as long as you’ve been alive and even before then, it’s always been war. Not that your father is gone you’ve taken the crown. You’ve also decided that enough is enough. You’re tired of war. You’re tired of all your kingdom’s funds going to something you find repugnant. You’ve begun the process of peace talks with the Golem king. You’ve corresponded through letters and dignitaries from both sides for a little over a month now. Now, you’re going to his kingdom in a show of your trust. You’ve agreed to stay with him in his palace for a month. Until then there will be no fighting, no war. If your kingdom attacks in anyway you’ve agreed to his conditions. Same for him.

You arrived at his palace last night. You refused wine and food and went immediately to bed. In the morning though you agree to a private breakfast with him. He comes to your room and you glare at him.

“Why are you here?” You snap.

“Private breakfast,” his voice is low and dark. He towers above you and one hand could do the damage of fifty mortal hands. You’ve only seen pictures of Golems and even then they were offensive representations commissioned by your father. All your life you were never permitted to see the war or read about the Golem kingdom unless your father approved. Of course, you ignored him and thank god you did. Even still you were not prepared for standing in the Golem King’s presence.

He looks like a living volcano. His body made of dark, rough rock like chiseled armor. Between the joints and plates underneath his hot molten lava. It moves and churns, glowing bright. In a way, he’s beautiful. But like a volcano, you know a threat when you see one.

You motion to your table. “Then please sit, your majesty.” You take your seat and tighten your robe around yourself.

He remains standing and you cut your eyes up to him. “Why aren’t you sitting?”

“The chairs won’t hold me,” he answers. He tilts his head. “Notice I’ve provided furniture to suit you.”

You glance down at the wooden chair, polished and smooth. The seat extra soft. You hadn’t quite put two and two together yet. “Oh,” you gasp.

“You’ll be here for a very long time. I wanted you to feel at home.”

You’re quiet as his staff delivers breakfast. They bring mounds of food and you’re almost certain you see the table sag. The pour him a mug of coffee that’s twice your size. You watch as he downs it, his lava burning a little warmer.

“I appreciate your sympathy,” you start as you unfold your utensils. “From the way my father spoke of you-”

“No offense, my queen, but your father was a vainglorious ass.”

You bite back your smile and laugh. Of course, you loved your father, but you didn’t like him. You had to agree with the King’s apt appraisal of him.

“He would rather see me drowned than speak to me. I’m afraid I gave into petty behavior and followed his lead.”

You notice he has been watching you rather than enjoy his meal. He seems to be studying you or perhaps just lurking. “I’m sure he’s rolling over in his grave as we speak. Not just because I’m here but because I wear the crown alone. He so tried to see me married. I think me telling him I’d rather let his prized stallion mount me than marry one of his inbred suitors is what did him in.”

He was quiet for a moment and as you begin to feel embarrassed he lets out a gut-busting laugh. The walls rattle and a painting crashes from the wall. “I would give everything I had to have seen the look on his face alone.”

You lick your lips and smile. “He threw up, actually.”

He lifts his mug to you. “Then you’re my hero.”

You chuckle then look away. “This is all so strange,” you murmur. “You’re nothing like I expected.”

“You’re everything I expected.”

You feel your whole body burn and you look back at him. “I am?”

“Your letters were a highlight in my life,” he replies. “You’re much more intelligent than your father ever was. Even though everything was politics and business, I felt like I was talking to an equal.”

You swallow the lump in your throat down. “Equal you say?” Even back at home, it felt like the elders and dignitaries always talked over you. They still saw you as the princess in the corner.

“You’re a proper leader,” he growls. “That’s why I proposed this venture of you staying with me. I don’t plan on letting you leave.

Your stomach drops and your heart turns cold. Your whole body screams for you to move, to run, but you’re firmly rooted in place.

“I intend to make you love me as I love you.”

You can’t breathe now.

He kneels down before you and takes your hand. His touch is delicate and gentle. “I want to marry you,” his voice is even sweet. “I want us to rule side by side and bring true peace to our kingdoms. I would fall at your feet to see you smile. I would fight the winds that chap your face. I just ask for a month to let you feel the same for me.”

Your eyes are wide and you can barely get a breath. Your jaw drops open and the only word you can get out is a low and whispered, “fuck.”

He laughs. “I know this is a shock.” He stands back up. “But I believe you will fall for me as I did you. It’s fate. We are tied together.”

“I’m sorry I’m afraid I blacked out for a moment.” You run your hand through your hair as you try to process his words.

He leans down and kisses the top of your head. “I do not mean to brag, but I have better ways of doing that.”

“Whoa!” You shove him back and he takes a step aside. “I thought this was breakfast! Not a proposal of marriage!”

“It’s not that, yet.” He shrugs. “Certainly if you would want to I would agree. But this is a proposal of love.”

You screw your mouth into a tight line then throw your hands up into the air. “I have no choice. I have to stay here.” You let your mind settle for a moment. You want to laugh out loud at the irony of it. The Golem King loves you. And certainly, if you did decide to marry him your union would create the most powerful empire in the entire world. You would be an unstoppable force.

You look up at him. “I am no virgin.” You glared up at him. “Do not expect me to be so pure and chaste. I am no flower. I am not delicate. I am not some precious object. I’m a soul like you are. Not a prize going to the deserving.”

“I do not expect anything of you.” He kneels down again so you come eye to eye. “I do not want a flower. I do not want precious and delicate. I want a sword that could kill me or protect me. And I am certain, virgin or not, I will make you feel new.”

Your eyes widen and you smile. “Fine.” You stand before him. “Then try your best. I wish you all the luck in the world.” You touch his cheek and kiss him. For a moment, as he kisses back, you lose your breath. A shock runs through your body and when you pull away you feel the pull. You feel the rope that ties you to him.