Blackbeak Bluff take the halves and call them brothers

“It isn't your choice to make,” Kjalarr told her, unwilling to allow himself to be called a name that meant nothing to him. Jorunn was the boy before the bear and the sea and both had snuffed out that weak boy's life. She was not in charge of him and did not get to set what name she wanted to call him. She may have been his sister but she was not his superior. “Then you see a dead boy that stopped living a long time ago.” Because Kjalarr wasn't a boy, and she could hold her ground. That was fine, because Kjalarr could be just as stubborn. He could be an unbending, immovable stone too. She spoke that her name was Ragna, named for their father. To the Loðbrók that had endured much trauma in his short life it failed to ring the bells it should have. He could not deny that there was something familiar about her but essentially they were strangers meeting for the first time that may have shared blood. Shared blood did not make them familiar with one another. She was still a stranger to the Jarl.

She was confident that he would remember, except her tone bordered an order. The Jarl's lips twitched in ever so slightly in contempt. Sister or not...she had no right to think that she could order him around. She had not been enough of a presence in his early life for him to remember her and she was only now making an appearance almost two years later. She had no right to boss him around, no ground to stand on, as far as Kjalarr was concerned. “We'll see.” He spoke simply with a lofty rise and fall of his broad shoulders.