He had told Blue Willow to wait for him just at the edge of Ravensblood Forest and had departed from her when she had agreed figuring it would be easy to accompany her back to the Plateau than it was to try to find the pack on his own; besides it would save time and Ragnar did not want to chance the possibility of missing the birth of his and Thistle’s children. He had given her the rough time estimate of meeting her before the sun set and Ragnar intended to keep it, not wanting his brief goodbye to stretch on for longer than it needed too. The Viking understood as he followed the familiarly worn path to the birthing den he shared with Thistle that she would probably - if his suspicion was anything to go off of - come with him and that if she wanted too though she was the only proof he had that the words he would speak to Crete’s family were truth that he would try his damnest to talk her out of it. It would be a couple days journey and he did not want to put her on the line of fire and scrutiny for while she was as just to blame as Crete she did not deserve that. He did not want her to hear it or feel it if they directed their anger at her since Crete had seemed to have fallen off the edge of the earth.

“Thistle?” Ragnar called into the shadows of the den, lowering his head as he peered down into the widened mouth and tunnel of the den wondering if this was going to be easy or hard. It was always difficult to determine how Thistle was going to react Ragnar found because while she was docile, innocent, lovely and beautiful both inside and out she was also a true shield maiden in her heart if her spitfire nature hidden within his tiny Viking was anything to go off of. “We must speak, quickly.” He had a time constraint to keep too and since Pump had basically told him not to go to the Plateau (even though originally his intentions had been different) he was not sure this trip would be approved of by their hybrid leader. Not that, that was going to stop him.

Ragnar watched as Thistle emerged from the shadows, watching the awkward - at least that was how it looked to him - way in which she walked, carrying the weight of their children in her womb. Ragnar wondered, as he had several times already, how many she was carrying, he wanted to guess quite a few given her size but then again he was reminded that his wife was small and that likely even a single pup would probably make her womb appear to be large even so. Ragnar didn’t really care how many babes they had, only that they and Thistle were healthy and strong during the whole process - from their time in the womb to their birthing. He realized when he felt her touch against his shoulder, the brush of her muzzle against the platinum silver fur that grew there that he had probably awoken her. Most of the time he did for she seemed to be napping frequently, which Ragnar felt unsure if was a good thing or a bad thing - Dagmar’s pregnancy had never progressed this far and he had nothing else to go off of.

“I will not keep you long,” The Viking promised her pulling back from her slightly only so he could look her in the eyes. “A female from the Plateau came to our borders looking for Crete, she must have followed your scent mixed with his here,” He spoke in a lowered voice, nearly a whisper as if he were afraid of someone overhearing him. “I told her all that happened. I lied a bit by telling her that you were my mate when he had you,” He admitted to her bluntly, not really feeling remorseful for stretching the truth. It was his story and he had to stick with it now. “I must go with her to the Plateau. To tell his family of what he has done and …that the babes might be his by blood,” He took a deep breath. “But that they will know, even so, no father but me.” In a way, Ragnar was limiting Crete’s family to rights to them (which probably wouldn’t go over well with them but he didn’t care, frankly).

"I expect to be gone only a few days." He told her, expecting her to jump in and tell him that she was going with him.

“They will not take them, Thistle. They have no rights to them,” That wasn’t exactly true but Thistle, as their mother, had more of a right to them than anyone else on the earth did, moreso than Pump who intended to have a claim on the pups, too. “Besides if Pump wouldn’t let the babes go with us if we went elsewhere,” Though Ragnar was not how she intended to keep them chained to the Ridge they would have free wills and minds of their own, eventually. “She wouldn’t let them go with his family.” It was a subtle vow that he wouldn’t let anyone take their children away from her, that he would rather fight to his last breath then allow anyone - even Odinn - to steal them away. “I will tear the lungs from their bodies if they try,” He promised to her in a whisper, muzzle skimming the silk of her ear. “Even Odinn.” His God had already claimed the lives of his children with Dagmar, he would not have the lives of Thistles’ and his. Ragnar knew he never wanted to bury lifeless bodies again and that if he did he would not to consume drugged mushrooms to feel the rage of the Berserkers.

Her look was sharp at his admittance of his lie, listening to her words, his ears laying down to his skull as she lectured him upon it. “I told her that it was your first season, that you didn’t realize and that he took advantage of you …which he did do.” Ragnar did not want to hear it, did not want to hear her paint him as some kind of saint because he had showed her one good night. Ragnar doubted he was as innocent as Thistle had been (Ragnar was right on that suspicion, admittedly). “They might be mine by blood, I don’t think we will ever know, really.” Ragnar attempted to console her next, inhaling deeply and letting it out sharply. “Then she should have answered their diplomats’ call,” Ragnar stated simply, knowing their would be consequences for this, likely. But the situation had changed and needed to be addressed immediately as far as Ragnar was concerned. “I have told their diplomat I would go to the Plateau with her to explain what happened to his family. They know he is missing that is why she was sent - to look for him. The situation has changed and therefore her rejection of my offer no longer matters.” Whether Pump would see it that way or not Ragnar didn’t know.

Just so long as Pump understood that when she no longer had the Beta position to hold over him as leverage - meaning that she chose someone else or took the prospect away from him that Ragnar would be gone and he’d take Thistle with him and without her leash constraining him he would no longer care about her morals. The Viking’s wings were clipped but it was only a matter of time before he broke free and took flight. Whether it was with Pump or against her only the fates would reveal.

“Their diplomat is waiting for me, Thistle. She does not want to be the messenger of this. I do not know if she does not want to involve herself or if she is simply scared, I am not frightened and I am already involved.” The Viking moved closer to his wife then, desiring to touch. “You should stay here,” He murmured to her in a suggestion, wondering if she would accept it or fight him on it.

It must have been very shocking of her, Ragnar considered as he heard her sharp intake of breath at his conspiring whisper, to hear him speak in such a sinister manner when speaking of his favored God, but Ragnar knew of no other way to say it so she might believe him; that he would kill anyone who tried to take their children from her, including his own God. Odinn and Ragnar had already talked about what the Allfather had done wrong and the Viking was confident that the Allfather would not again take the lives of Ragnar’s children, yet it was good to remind even Gods of their wrongs so they did not forget. “If she inquires about my absence, you do not have to claim knowledge of where I have gone,” Ragnar understood that it probably would have been better if he just left without telling anyone at all and yet, he could not leave Thistle without saying anything, even though he fully intended for their parting to be only temporary. She deserved an explanation not just silence that would have likely looked like he abandoned her. “I had to tell you …I did not want you to think I abandoned you.” Because he wouldn’t. He wasn’t even gone yet and impossibly, he already missed her.

Ragnar made a contented noise - a soft groan that hung in his throat - when he felt her tongue glide across his muzzle and responded with a kiss of his own. There was a part of Ragnar that was surprised she was not fighting to go along with him, and yet another part of him that was intensely relieved that she was not gunning to go. She was too pregnant, and Ragnar only wanted her safe. He did not know the Plateau wolves, did not know if they would insult her, judge her, attack her even. “It is not that I do not want you by my side, Thistle,” He told her softly, just in case she had been considering that. “because it is where you belong. The journey may be too hard on you and I do not want them to hurt you.” He whispered before he peppered small kisses along her jaw, before letting his tongue graze over the velveteen fur of her left ear. Despite that she was his tiny Viking, with the heard and spirit of a Shield Maiden she was still young and in her own way innocent and he wanted to keep her safe. It was his job as her husband, after all to protect and provide.

The sound of Thistle’s chuckle and admittance that she did not see Pump that often allowed the Viking a little relief though not much. “She will notice my absence at the borders,” Ragnar warned Thistle softly, not wanting to bring her into the crossfire of anything. He felt like he was caught in between a rock and a hard place and not for the first time. He did not want Thistle to be guilty by association for anything he did. “Then I will return swiftly,” He murmured into her ear in a breathless whisper after she had spoken that she would miss him. “So you will not miss that much.” He finished reveling in her closeness, in her smell and the warmth and feel of her body so near his.

“Don’t be frightened,” She had not actually stated that she was frightened and really he wasn’t sure if worry and fear were of the same vein but it felt right to assure her anyhow. Just in case, because he knew how women were. They fretted. Needlessly. Granted, the odds were not in Ragnar’s favor but their fates had already been decided and odds weren’t going to make a difference anyway. “Odinn will join Freya and Frigg in their guardianship of you. He will watch over you while I am away.” Odinn had already promised Ragnar a long life and the Viking trusted his Gods’ word, but Thistle needed the Allfather’s protection more than he.

“If you see a raven or two it is a good sign. It means he is watching you through Huginn and Muinnin.”

He could see the worry brewing like a far off storm in the azure pools of her eyes, beautiful and captivating as they held his icy oceanic gaze. Ragnar suspected that nothing but his return would truly erase her worry. He did not understand where her worry stemmed from, unaware that she was in love with him and that it was that love that housed her worry. When it came to the matters of the heart Ragnar was unknowing and inexperienced. He drew in a careful breath and let it out. “Thor will watch over me,” Thor was certainly not Ragnar’s favorite God but he would do in a pinch the Viking supposed; and if it made her feel better for him to commit a God to watch over him while he was away from her then he would do it, if only to ease her worry a fraction. “I must go now, Thistle, I promised her I would meet her before sunset.” Ragnar sighed with reluctance as he detached himself from her after giving her one, last, lingering kiss, rubbing his cheek against her own before he lowered his muzzle to her rounded womb. “Behave for your mother, children.” He spoke to them before he pulled himself away further knowing that if he did not his reluctance would only grow.

There was nothing easy about leaving his family even if it was only for a few days time; and Ragnar reasoned it wasn’t like he was going to be in nearly as much danger as he was every time he had raided. The Berserker and Jarl - one side of the same coin that was Ragnar Loðbrók - neither of them feared death, would even have embraced it if it were with Odinn to come and claim him into the hall of Valhalla. But Ragnar found that he feared for Thistle if the that were to happen. Of course, it probably wouldn’t be that bad realistically since the pack was already charged with ownership of their children - she would have hardly been alone in raising them. A soft shake of his head was given to dispel those dark thoughts. He had no intentions of this turning ugly, though he went to them with little proof and what would sound to be an accusation though he hoped Blue Willow would at least testify on his behalf. If things went south with this Ragnar was sure Pump would keep the Beta position away from his for good or have his head on a silver platter. But things had changed and Ragnar had answered the Plateau’s Beta’s call.

It was only right that he saw it through to the end.

“I expect nothing less of our children,” Ragnar offered Thistle a rare smile - not a smirk, but a genuine and actual smile - even if it was a little forlorn with his reluctance to leave. But he had too and with that he headed towards the place he had instructed Blue Willow to wait for him just at the cusp of Ravensblood Forest.