Gold.
Something about the yellow metal was hypnotic, causing both wealth and greed.
Ivar and Arvid had watched her work in tense silence, not being able to take their eyes off the shinning metal in her delicate hands. Her fingers worked tirelessly in the way her father had taught her. It was meticulous and tedious, far from the stylings of deadly weaponry.
Floki was quite pleased.
It looked beautiful on Helga, decorating her pale collarbone like a queen. She should be a queen.
Helga's smile was brighter than the summer sun as she lightly touched the pearls embedded in the gold.
"My husband put you up to this?" She asks her, bending down to the young Moorish girl now in her care.
"Floki insisted." Artemis nods
"Tanaruz, look how pretty the gold shines." The child stares at the necklace uninterested. The poor girl appeared so lifeless and Artemis watches her with sad eyes. She didn't deserve such sadness, no one taken away from their home deserved it.
"And who is this?" Ivar asks, crawling over to the girl. He reaches a hand out towards her as a friendly invitation, but the child let's out a shrill scream in reaction. She was so frightened that her screaming didn't sieze until Ivar pulled away completely.
Helga reacts immediately, pulling the girl to her side and rocking her back and forth in comfort. Floki sighs, rubbing a hand down his face in frustration as Ivar casted him a look of confusion.
Artemis watches the girl cower into Helga's skirts, the tears spilling from her eyes like waterfalls. If she recalled correctly, the girl was from Moorish Spain, which meant she spoke the language of Arabs. Many Moorish merchants often flocked towards the south of the Mediterranean, selling their silks and spices.
The language was difficult, so much more that the northern tongue.
Artemis had grown up hearing it, her father and brother almost fluent from their travels selling their work, and she was able to pick up on it here and there. She wouldn't be the best, but she probably knew enough to speak to the scared girl.
She closes her eyes for a moment, searching her mind for basic words, and when she opens them, Ivar was watching her in confusion.
"What are you doing?" He asks.
"I'm thinking."
"Well do not hurt yourself." He snorts. Artemis let's a smile slip at his teasing, getting down on her knees beside him so that she may attempt to speak with the girl.
"Your name is Tanaruz?" She tries in her broken Arabic, immediately feeling Ivar stiffen beside her. The child's watery brown eyes looked at her in awe, but she remains silent, nodding her head in response
"Artemis." She points to herself, smiling at the girl. Helga watches their exchange with keen eyes, absentmindedly petting the girl's dark sleek hair.
"How do you know my language?" Tanaruz asks her timidly, trying to shrink away from Helga's touch. She reminded Artemis so much of herself, scared and alone.
"Your people trade with mine." Artemis tells her, searching in the folds of her cloak to produce a shiny red apple. She offers it to the girl with a smile, watching in satisfaction as she grabbed hold of it without hesitation.
"Helga is kind. She will treat you well." Artemis speaks as best she could. Helga smiles now that Tanaruz was calmer.
"So, you can speak other languages?" Ivar asks, teasily yanking at one of Artemis's curls to get her attention. She scowls, turning to look at him and his little grin.
YOU ARE READING
Forging A Heart (Ivar the Boneless)
Fanfiction(UNEDITED TRASH) A Grecian girl is taken from her home in the Mediterranean during a raid in a Christian monestary. She is thrown into dangerous waters after she is gifted to Ivar, who believes she is nothing good but a pretty distraction, until he...
