"ATIA, HONEY, WHY-WHY ARE YOU STILL WITH ALASDAIR?"

Atia froze as her name was called, and she immediately dropped back down on the floor, Alasdair staring at her with the kind of bewilderment that could only come from someone who had witnessed the consequences that Grandmaster had placed on others who disobeyed.

Quivering, Atia stared at the sandal-clad feet of the Grandmaster as he came to stand before her, much too afraid to raise her head up to look at him and futilely plead for forgiveness, hoping that her consequence would be swift and painless, though she could only hope.

"Honey, why are you back on the ground, its filthy."

Raising her head, she looked up at the Grandmaster with wide eyes, confused as to why he was so lenient with her, she must have been breaking some rules, though, if she had truly thought about it, the Grandmaster had been nothing but kind to her and the other servants, at least until the others deserved their consequences.

"Up, up," he said, much more displeased, and she rushed to obey, sitting next to Alasdair, pressing up against his side, the Kallrynion freezing up for a moment at her touch before forcing himself to relax.

The Grandmaster sighed airily, sitting on her other side, draping his arm across the back of the couch, turning to the two of them with a smile, laughing slightly. "What-what have you two, uh, been-been up to?"

Alasdair gave her master an easy smile, and Atia blinked at him, confused by how he had shifted so easily into a persona she didn't recognize; it almost scared her, how genuine his disingenuous self was.

"Atia was just telling me how wonderful you are," he drawled, tilting his head, and the Grandmaster giggled at that, blushing and shrugging, mumbling words that Atia let fade into the background.

"A-Atia, dear, why-why don't you go and tend to our champion, he-he seems to have scared off a-a few of your friends," the Grandmaster suggested, placing a hand on her arm, and she nodded, standing and pausing just before she bowed, catching herself and scurrying away, Alasdair calling out a goodbye to her, much to the surprise of everyone in the room.

Sighing to herself, she continued along her way, taking a detour to grab the necessary supplies in order to tend her master's beloved champion. She had never seen him fight, as she and the other servants were either tending to the needs of the Grandmaster's favored company, or in their chambers awaiting to tend to his wounds later on. He was very large, however, and she was one of the more intimidated of souls that went to face him.

"He is like a beast," Hanina had whispered the first time she had been sent to tend to him, "Does he become violent?"

"Not to servants," she said, pausing for a moment before adding, "Not in some time. When he first arrived, yes. Now, he has mellowed. We'll be fine."

That wasn't comforting to anyone except herself, but in the end, she was the one going up to prepare him for his fight that night, not the others. So she steeled her nerves and, with her large bowl in hand, she made her way down the hall, past the guards, and into the room.

She never greeted him. As a servant, she was meant to be neither seen nor heard, only there to tend to whims and disappear from view. Consequences varied, though only true consequences were given to those who truly deserved them, though Atia had never experienced consequences for herself.

She toyed with the notion that, perhaps, the Grandmaster did favor her, but she immediately tamped down the thought with a choked shriek, hysterically reminding herself that the Grandmaster loved all those on Sakaar equally; he simply treated certain people differently, but out of the same love.

"Small girl."

She tried not to jump as the loud rumble caused her skin to prickle, her heart nearly leaping out of her chest as she fumbled with the bowl in her hands, steadying it enough to drop it onto the ground, looking up at the large figure that was rising out of the hot spring in the room, wrapping a towel around his waist.

He was as tall as the room, which was rather large to begin with, his body nearly the size of his hot spring, green from head to toe, save for his eyes and black hair, and Atia never liked to stand next to him, as she instantly felt trapped, despite the rest of the room for space; he was enormous and terrifying, for lack of a better word.

She swallowed thickly and nodded in acknowledgement, making her way to where he was sat on his large bed, climbing up, the large rag in her hands drenched in the water. She didn't know why she tended to him, as nothing seemed to harm him, though it seemed that the act of trying prepared him for the fight of next battle. Whatever the case, he never seemed upset by any actions and never lashed out—anymore—though her hands still trembled when she neared him.

"Hulk fight tonight," he said, and she nodded, giving him a small, silent smile. He didn't seem to like her response, so he added, "Hulk smash tiny people."

She nodded again, giving a small hum, hoping that it was enough to appease him, though it clearly wasn't, as he said, "Small girl speak?"

"Y-yes," she stammered, "I-I speak."

He huffed. "Then why no speak? No small girls talk to Hulk. Hulk nice guy. Why no talk?"

She took steadying breaths, hoping that he wouldn't sense her fear. "We're not supposed to talk. And-and you're very...intimidating." The Grandmaster always emphasized the importance of words, so she searched for the correct one in the hopes of not offending.

"Other little girl like Hulk," he huffed, grumbling to himself, "Other little girl fight with Hulk. Why no you small girls like her?"

Atia wondered who he could possibly be talking about, as none of the servants would go anywhere near him unless asked, but answered nonetheless, genuinely curious as to who this mysterious girl was.

"Not all girls are the same," she said, "Some of us can fight, others can't. We are all still strong."

He scoffed at that, shrugging his shoulders and rolling his eyes, nearly sending her jumping back at the force, frowning and puffing out her cheeks, wanting to shout at him that, yes, she was still strong, her mother always reminded her of it, but it was clear he would rather believe what he wanted than listen.

That was alright, no one listened to her anyways; it didn't make her any less right.

Finishing up her work in silence, she gathered her things and scurried out, forcing her head to stay up, holding the bowl with both arms, glad that he didn't call out after her, or throw any of his large items scattered around the room.

When she finally made it to the chambers where she had retrieved the bowl, the sky was beginning to darken, and the sounds of the citizens making their way to the stadium could be heard from even inside.

"Do you want to watch?" Hanina asked, catching her as the servants puttered about, making the food and drinks for the Grandmaster's Special Persons Area, rebraiding their hair and freely chatting.

"What do they even do?" Atia inquired, and Hanina made a face.

"In all the time you've been here, you've never once seen the fights?" the fairer girl said, a statement in guise of a question, and Atia could only shrug and nod.

Hanina laughed, shaking her head. "Well, you have to watch! Ask the Grandmaster tonight, I'm sure he would let you."

"That is not in my place to ask," Atia hissed, shaking her head vehemently, "I know my position, Hanina. And I don't want to watch the fights."

"Why not?" another servant asked, genuinely puzzled, "They are a celebrated part of Sakaar."

Atia felt a churning in her stomach at the statement, feeling as though she was betraying Sakaar and her master by not seeing them, only to remember that, if he wanted her to see, he would have commanded her to do so, but he never did.

"The Grandmaster has never told me to, so I find no reason to," she sniffed, raising her chin, and the other two shared a sad look.

"There's more to life than being a servant, Atia," Hanina whispered softly, moving on to continue preparations, "Even we know that."

Atia watched her go with a furrowed brow, thinking. All her life she was a servant, there was nothing else she wanted. She was content where she was. No reason to change.

º º º

That night, as the fight continued and Sakaar buzzed with life, Atia laid awake on her bed, staring up at her ceiling, her mind empty as she simply existed, wondering about the number of times she found herself merely existing, finding no reason to join in festivities, happy to just be alone in her dark room.

"Mother?" she whispered into the darkness, "Am I happy?"

She was unsure if it was her mind playing tricks or truly her mother as she heard a voice whisper, "You are serving the Grandmaster, Atia. Why would you not be happy?"

"Is there more to life than just idle servitude?" she asked, only to wince at her words, feeling a pang of guilt; to think, she was ungrateful of the love and kindness the Grandmaster had given her throughout all this time.

Whatever had responded must have figured that she had given herself a response of her own, as she heard nothing from them again. She decided it must have been her mother, as her mother tended to do this in the darkness when she was alone.

As she drifted off to sleep, she couldn't get rid of the nagging question that continued on in her empty dreams, settling deep within her, never relinquishing its hold.

There is more to life.

AUTHOR'S NOTE

( 06.09.18 )

I hope my point is getting across correctly, you can kind of see that Atia's perception of the way the world works is all based around that kind of "the Grandmaster loves you" ideals and his careful word choice and all that? He does care for her, don't misunderstand, their connection is genuine, but he has more of a hold on her than he does on, really, anyone else on that planet, which will be a conflict later on.

Valkyrie will be showing up soon, I promise, it'll be really cute, I promise.

Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed!