Atla's Fall
(aka I have no self control and cannot sit on this any longer)
@thegreatstrongbow
Under read more for length
“Atla!” were the first words Narfi roared as he threw open the Harem doors, eyes darting around the room in a fervent search for the copper haired beauty.
The other concubines, usually rushing to greet their King with adoration and love sensed his mood and stood with their heads bowed and their backs to the wall, not daring to even cough in fear of his stern temper being redirected to them.
A moment later a complacent Atla stepped out of her room, apparently not deterred by her King’s mood. “You called for me, my King?” she responded in a teasing tone, thinking her charm could soothe him as it so often did. But not today it seemed.
“Explain these, now” he demanded, throwing a pile of papers and a purse of foreign coins at her. For the first time that anyone could remember, a brief flash of fear came across her usually flawless face. Staring at them for a moment she looked back up at Narfi and tried to fall back on her cunning skills and the hope his love for her would overcome this minor...indiscretion.
“My King, I don’t know what others have led you to believe but I have never seen these before” she lied, stepping over the papers detailing various political bribes, plots and schemes that one way or another all involved her and her desperate attempt to cling to as much power a concubine could hold. After all, in her eyes she was the closest thing to a Queen Jotunheim had and she felt this level of power and the means she came to wield it were justified.
“I could have looked past the petty bribes to increase your allowance” Narfi began, moving his arm back as she tried to reach out for him, “but these jealous schemes against my crown and Beleg are unforgivable. You openly commit treason and threaten the life of one you know I hold dear. What did you hope to gain from this?”
“I-I” Atla stammered, feeling the eyes of her fellow concubines on her, “everything I have done is out of love, for you” she insisted with a small laugh of disbelief that she had somehow been ratted out, “surely you can see, he’s getting involved in things that don’t concern him. Us, the future. He’s nothing compared to what we have. I was thinking of you and what is best for your Kingdom. I would never let anything happen to you. Please, Narfi” she pleaded, feeling bold enough to call him by his name in the presence of others.
As soon as his name left her lips the back of his hand harshly hit her cheek leaving a dark mark, knocking her to the floor before his feet. Fuelled by rage he grabbed Atla’s hair before she even had a chance to put a hand up to her aching cheek. In one smooth motion he slammed her against one of the ornate walls with such force one of the paintings fell to the ground from the shock. He held her up by the jaw as his eyes scanned hers. Hoping he could still feel something when he looked into them, but all he felt was disdain and disgust where once there had been love.
“Who in Ymir’s name do you think you’re talking to?” he snarled, “you meddle in matters you have no say in. You would do well to remember your place here. You were nothing before I found you and by my word you will go back to nothing.” His threat was colder than all the ice in Jotunheim and Atla tried to splutter out a protest, a final attempt to win his forgiveness but the firm, almost crushing hold of her jaw rendered her silent save a few feeble whines. .
Narfi reached up with his free hand, yanking off her ornate headpiece decorated with amethysts that signalled her rank as the favourite. He snapped it in his hand in front of her tear filled eyes before pulling the golden pendant that hung around her neck clean off with such force it cut her delicate skin. “Get out” he snarled against her ear, words dripping with utter hatred. He then dropped her to the floor with a loud thud, giving her a final look of disgust before turning his back on her, leaving her snapped headpiece and bloodied pendant on a nearby table as a silent threat to the other concubines. Being here was a privilege, a privilege that could easily be revoked.
Once Narfi had left, slamming the door so hard that snow from the roof fell to the ground with a loud thud, Atla let out a pained cry as the realisation that everything she had worked for and earned over the past decade had been taken. The other concubines remained fixed in place, looking at their fallen sister unsure if they should help her lest they risk meeting the same fate. Of course, others had been kicked out of the Harem, but never in such a public or horrifying way.
Eventually, Gryla had the courage that the others did not have and knelt down beside Atla to offer a friendly hand and some comfort, which was promptly slapped away. “He can’t do this to me!” she sobbed, not thinking straight she lunged for the door to try and go after Narfi, thankfully Irpa saw the potential danger of that situation. No matter what Atla may have tried to do or how difficult she could be at times, they were still a family and they would protect one another.
With ease the formidable Jotun blocked the door and grabbed hold of Atla and, with Eistla’s help, managed to hold her back, despite Atla fighting against them with all her might. She continued to plead with them and Narfi in the hopes he could hear her, which he could, to fix this terrible mistake. But he never looked back. “Please, I can fix this. He loves me! I know he does, just let me go! It’s a mistake...Narfi please!” Atla sobbed with a blood curdling scream as her former sisters held her back.
“Control yourself, do you want him to take your head too?” Irpa warned, harshly slapping Atla’s other cheek to try and knock some sense into her, the remaining concubines shuddered, implying that Irpa’s warning was completely justified.
A short time later, not taking any chances, Narfi sent a number of guards to the Harem to remove Atla, ensuring she took nothing, not even the clothes she wore. She came here with nothing, so would leave the same way. In disgrace. She continued to sob and fight them as she was dragged out of the palace grounds and literally thrown into the icy dirt outside the large gates. Her screams and pleas outside the castle lasted for three days before they fell silent, of course rumours spread that she had run away to join a resistance, or Narfi had cut out her tongue to finally silence her. But no one for certain knew what happened, and no one was brave enough to actually ask.
Narfi wasn’t seen for weeks after he had Atla removed, he called for no one and wasn’t even in attendance during feasts. Some even began to whisper that he had died. Maybe he was simply grieving, or perhaps he had decided concubines were too much trouble.
The other concubines began to worry about their future there; no one had been brave enough to touch or remove the remains of Atla’s headpiece or pendant as if they were cursed somehow. What if he threw them all out too? Mjoll seemed most concerned and almost continuously cried. Worried that the love her King showed her had gone, that he was hurting and she was unable to reassure and care for him, along with her concern over her fallen sister. They may have had their differences but Atla was still a friend.
At the end of the following month, Narfi sent out word for Beleg to join him in his rooms that evening. The first indication that he was still alive.
Narfi was pacing in his room that evening, like he had been so often since the incident it was a wonder that the floor hadn’t started to wear down. The room was tidy, but it was clear there had been some kind of altercation in there, whether it had been with another or just Narfi fighting with himself it was unclear. One of the ornate vases, a gift from a foreign dignitary was gone, one could only assume it had been smashed along with other items of furniture, including a side table that had a large crack in it. He himself looked tired, bags under his eyes, his long braid was unkempt and messy, and a look of concern was etched on his face as he continued to wonder if he had made the right choice. What Atla had done was appalling and unforgivable. But he still felt concerned for her and her wellbeing. He had promised to protect her and now he had done this. But at least Beleg was safe.
