Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless)

3- The Sons of Ragnar

The notorious Kattegat that Helga spoke so fondly of was in turmoil. Their queen was over thrown and killed, her murderer proclaiming that she was their rightful queen. These people were so hotheaded, that even their women fought each other for power.

The captives on the commanding ship were rounded up by Hvitserk, locking them in with the other captives in what seemed like a farm house. Some of the other captured women began to cry in fear, dry kohl streaking their faces. Artemis was tired of crying, but her eyes burned with the need to release tears.

Her watery eyes stared defiantly at Hvitserk, who only returned her glare with a smile, baring all teeth like a wolf on the hunt. To him, she appeared as a mouse caught in a trap.

"Oh little fighter," He begins, "We admire such will, but not in a slave," His smile didn't falter. He turned his back on all of them, locking them into their makeshift prison.

...

"It has come to our attention that Helga has taken a liking to you,"

Bjorn had a voice that could only be described as infuriating, the tones sounding almost childlike despite his large outward appearance. He pulled her roughly towards a moderately sized cabin, far better in construction than the others.

She stumbled along with his quick pace, blinking the sleep from her eyes. It was a quiet morning, and it was her first time scanning the town since their arrival. The people stared at her before going about their business. She began to wonder how long they were kept locked away in the farm house.

"If it were up to me you would have been the perfect gift for her. She has been a friend of the family for many years," He continued nonchalantly, as if they were only discussing the weather and not her enslavement, "But there are other plans for you."

Bjorn stops suddenly, turning round to face her. She gulps, watching how his eyes scan over her like a fine mare for sale.

"I wonder if mother is right?" Artemis cocks her head at his words, not fully understanding. Bjorn just shrugs, grabbing her by the cloak and pulling her along again.

"You will be given to my youngest brother as a gift."

Her eyes widened, drowsiness disappearing completely from her body as she fought against Bjorn's grip, tangling herself in the cloak. She screeches, digging her bare feet into the earth to halt the tall man's movements, but it was no use. She tripped over her dirty feet, almost meeting with the muddy ground before Bjorn grabbed her cloak by the neck, steadying her.

"Try not to make a bad impression, Ivar can be quite fickle." Bjorn chuckles, pushing open the wooden door of the cabin and pushing her inside. She stumbled on her weak legs, turning to look back at Bjorn. He was amused.

"Bjorn, for me? You shouldn't have!" Hvitserk cheers, jumping up from a stool beside the door. His long hair was now much neater, braided away from his face and exposing his features clearer then before. He was smiling like a fool, and Artemis didn't like it.

"How's the little fighter doing?" Hvitserk pulls her closer, holding her in place by the shoulders when she threatened to fall over.

"Brothers! Come take a look!"

Looking past him, she noticed how richly lit the area was, with furs covering every inch of the walls. A small fire was blazing in the middle, the sudden heat causing her to shiver. The smell of roasted meat wafted to her nostrils, and she only realized then how starved she was.

Two men appear from a chamber deeper inside the cabin. They were of similar build and height, with the same blonde tresses atop their head.

"This is the Mediterranean girl found in the monestary," Hvitserk pushed her towards them, making her an uncomfortable object of attention. She stood there awkwardly, not wanting to look them in the eyes.