Ragnar had been patrolling the perimeter when Nerian's howl had risen into the air, sounding desperate, urgent, long and loud so that it was ensured it would reach him. Something was wrong Ragnar knew and wasting no time he launched himself out of the territory, brow furrowed in concentration of pinpointing his wife's location. Hackles bristled against his spine in anticipation of what he might find. The scenarios that had traveled through the scarred Scandinavian's mind was nothing compared to what he found when he finally reached Nerian. He had not expected to see Thistle's head cradled on Nerian's paws, nor to hear the soft words that escaped his Priestess' lips in between licks. Not knowing that anything was truly wrong with Thistle he was left to jump to conclusions from afar, feeling anger. Anger that Thistle had lied to him all along. She'd made such a big deal out of it to hide the fact that she was really in love with Nerian in the same way that Nerian was in love with her, right? And what of him? Where did he stand in this relationship? He had only proposed the idea of a polygamy relationship because he thought Nerian had been in love with him as she had told him.

It did not make sense to Ragnar, considering they had both strongly disliked one another if not hated each other and what now they were lesbian lovers? Was the marriage to him just some kind of front? A big lie? Ha, the joke's on Ragnar now. A low grow slipped from betwixt his bared teeth, hating the pain from the double betrayal both of his wives had dropped upon him ripped through his heart. Feeling his heart tear only proving that he really did love both women, he half considered spitting at Nerian to take Thistle and never come back to the Bay. They could be happy without him since obviously he wasn't the thing that had bonded them as he had first been misled to believe. Instead he smirked, coy and mischievous though he was feeling far from mischievous. “Is that why you said yes to me? Do you even love me at all? Or was that a lie all along?” He wanted to turn away but the fact that Thistle didn't move or react in any way. “What is wrong with her?” He asked Nerian, still quite hurt by what he thought was a betrayal and confused but worry for his fawn Shield Maiden began to weed it's way into his mind as he realized that something wasn't right. It wasn't like Thistle not to speak.

The scarred Scandinavian stared at his Priestess wife intently when she yelled at him that it was serious, eyebrow rising as if to say indeed it is silently. Black, leathery nostrils flared when she responded how it was so obvious that she all the sudden loved Thistle as a sister wife and family but Nerian hadn't answered his question, not really. If her words were meant to reassure him they were doing a poor job. “That is not what I asked you.” Ragnar told Nerian coolly, expecting an answer. If it wasn't that his worry for Thistle, the pain in his heart that something was wrong with her, he would not have budged until Nerian answered what he had asked. He wanted an answer to what he had asked her, not something that sounded similar but really wasn't an answer to his specific question. He would assist her in healing Thistle, of course, but if they wanted to be lesbian lovers, if he could not get a clear answer out of Nerian he would chase them both out of the Bay and they could go be without him out of his pack. Ragnar Lodbrok was no one's third wheel and they would realize that love would not be enough to stop him.

Letting out a snort he stalked over to the red peppers the Priestess spoke of, slicing into it angrily with his sharp canines, the muscles in his body going taunt as a seed touched his tongue, the burning and stinging painful though he ignored it. Ragnar was no stranger to pain and lifted his head to pluck the pepper from it's tether to the plant, setting it down gently even as his mouth felt like someone had set it on fire before Nerian. He couldn't not help them because he loved them but considering he did not have a straight answer he could not focus on the task at hand which was important ...but so was figuring out if he'd been deceived and if he would have to go home without his wives and tell his children. When Thistle let out a whine her mouth opened just enough for Ragnar to spit two of the seeds in her mouth, figuring he might as well do it since his own mouth had began to go numb from the burning of the pepper's seeds.

Nerian's pointed glare was met with a stoic expression, expectant as he waited for her response. As Nerian answered him, the scarred Scandinavian felt contended with her response. His eyes stayed hard for a moment longer before they gradually softened as he noted the tears staining her fur a darker coloration around her eyes when she admitted that she did love him. It was the first time she had actually spoken it out loud to him and she was right he was selfish to want the hearts of both women, to want them to live together with him. But he did not see himself as a monster if only because it wasn't like he was married to one and sneaking behind her back with the other. They were both married to him now and he wasn't cheating on anyone. “Thistle stop.” The Jarl commanded her as he launched himself after the two women who had each gotten something of a head start on him. “You will stay here and allow Nerian to heal you. You are not well. What would I say to the children if you disobeyed and died, hmm?” Since when did his wife become suicidal? He caught up to them easily and he barred the path with his body intent to mirror each of Thistle's movements until she gave up and finally laid back down. “I get that you would do it to hurt me but you have to think of how the consequences of your actions will hurt our sons, our daughter,” Who was already a bit of a recluse. Ragnar didn't want to imagine what would happen to Gyda if Thistle let herself die.

“Be a good girl for our children.” He encouraged her intending to use force to get her to stay if it came down to it. She wasn't much of a match for him physically on a regular day let alone injured.

“I didn't know there was anything wrong with you,” He growled lowly at Thistle, feeling that he had to jump on the defensive, chest rising with offense at her assumption that he didn't care whether she lived or died. She obviously hadn't listened to a word he had ever said about loving her, in that case. It wasn't as if he ran around throwing the love word out to every wolf he set his eyes on. Hell, he hadn't even told his children he loved them. It was implied in his actions, though, so Ragnar automatically assumed that the children knew that. “Whatever Thistle. Lay down,” He spoke with a slight lift of his lip — his wolfish way of rolling his eyes — not wanting to have this argument with her right at this moment. It seemed like all they did was fight and now she wanted to start a fight when she was potentially on her death bed? Ragnar understood in that moment that he would never understand a woman's mind.

“I will bring the children to you tomorrow. You need rest, not to fuss over them and not to have them being boisterous.” Ragnar wasn't budging on that no matter which wife pleaded with him. Thistle would rest tonight without the children annoying her and possibly ruining her time to heal (besides likely they would give her a headache which Tokio feels would make everything ten times worse). Nerian insisted on letting Thistle go home and he stared at his Priestess Wife with heavy defiance. “And what am I supposed to do if she passes out from walking? She just said her head hurts her.” No one was listening to him, of course, Nerian disappeared and Thistle began murmuring nonsense and he was left with the distinct feeling of wanting to rip his own face off in frustration.

Their trip back was slow and when they reached Nerian Ragnar was frustrated and irritated and ready to tear someone apart. “Next time either of you disobey me like that again there will be consequences. It doesn't matter that you are my wives, do you understand?” He growled lowly at them. After he received his answer he stormed away without so much as a word to them.