Thistle Cloud woke in the mid morning and it was already overly warm. Dragging herself ot her feet and waddling out the den mouth she decided to sit or more so lay in the sun and allow the rays to play hide and seek on her pelt. She was so large as of late that it was almost impossible for her to move and bending well that was completely out of the question.
As she moved at an ungainly rate she lifted blue eyes to the sky to watch the fluffy white clouds play peek a boo with each other. Laying down and flopping over in a not so graceful move all you could see was her large side as it protruded into the air. It would be within the next week or so that these pups would come of that she would stake her life on. Truth be told they could probably come at any moment now, they would be a little bit early but they would not be in jeopardy at this point.
As uncomfortable as it was she hoped they stayed inside as long as they needed too. She wanted them to have the best start they could possible have and for that to happen they would need to be nourished and kept inside for as long as possible.
She closed gentle blue eyes and hummed softly to herself as she thought of her mini vikings that grew in her womb. She briefly wondered where her full man sized viking was in all his sexiness, but she it was briefly before darkness overtook her and she succumbed to a nap right after waking up, oh the joys of motherhood.
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Ragnar had not gotten Thistle her bouquet of lilacs as he had originally set out to do after he had wrapped up his slow patrol before even the sun had risen. He had been on his search for these apparently rare - for surely they were rare that he had yet to stumble upon them (likely not, he just didn’t have his wife’s talent for that kind of stuff) - flowers that his wife liked so much when he had ran into Pump and from that things had changed. A lot of things had changed for definitely what the proud Viking thought was for the better. While he had began setting the ball in motion for his own pack he had also hoped, in a small part of his mind, that Pump would finally clear the matter of the Second In Command so he knew where to more actively pursue those interested in assisting him in raising a Viking pack or to put it on hold for better circumstances. There was reward in patience, and power in wisdom of this he had come to see clearly when Odinn had taken possession of his body (even if no one else believed that it had happened). Odinn had opened Ragnar’s eyes, allowing for a sliver of insight and infinite wisdom that the Allfather held. Ragnar was quietly pacified with the little bit that the Allfather had gifted him with wisdom wise but, as always, as Odinn himself did, he always thirsted for more. He would sacrifice his eye - more, even - if it meant knowing. Curiosity was a good thing in measures but for the silver Viking it was like a parasitic hunger; always wanting more. This, he needed to instill in his sons when they came into the world. To nurture their curiosity always but to never let it control them. He wanted them to learn from his mistakes.
Even as Ragnar limped his way back to the birthing den, unable to help the smile that crept onto his lips as he thought that in a week, or even a few short days he would hear the small sounds of his sons, their cries, or the sound of them suckling even to fill their little bellies. It would be a welcome disruption to what had became settled and quiet. He heard the slow, rhythmic sounds of Thistle’s breathing and limped around the back of the den to pause and shake his head at his fawn colored wife who had seemingly crawled out of the den and was overcome with the need to nap. She slept a lot most days, which made Ragnar want so bad to speak with someone who had experience with pregnancy because he wasn’t sure if it was something he needed to be worried about, or not. Dagmar’s pregnancy had never progressed that far. For a moment, Ragnar deliberated with himself on if he should wake her to share his news with her, or allow her to sleep.
After a few moments of awkwardly standing there he decided that he would let her wake up on her own considering he had rudely woken her up after his nightmare not but a few nights ago. Not to mention he seemed to have gotten into the unnecessary habit of waking her up, period. He moved past her then, giving her a wide arch lest he decide to lose his balance as he limped and inspected the deer pelt that Dagrun had gifted them with so the children would have something soft to lay upon instead of hard earth. It had still been bloody when his half brother had gifted them with it and Ragnar had laid it out in the sunniest spot near their den to dry and tan.
After confirming that it seemed to be drying nicely and should be dry within the next day he shifted his weight, agitated and anxious knowing that he did not harbor the patience to wait.
Thistle had been sleeping albeit lightly though. She twitched an ear when she heard her name coming off of accented words and lifted her head to look around. A smile working it's way across her face towards Ragnar. Hello Ragnar. She shifted slowly and ungainly her sides swollen to 3x their normal size and she maneuvered enough so that she was spinx-like.
She panted slightly as moving always made her short of breath (should of been danni in her last few weeks). She studied him and spoke quietly Did you have a good morning? Her tail moving slow and lazily across the ground as she gently wagged it.
She studied the deer hide as well, grateful to the large viking brother for such a thing. It was truly a wonderful gift and it would be comfortable though she would probably not give birth on it, but rather move the pups to it after they were born so as to not mar it with blood after it was cleaned of the blood. She shifted yet again and got to her feet and waddled towards her husband and nuzzled him gently nipping at his shoulder as was customary of her, after all it was the closest thing to her height.
Thistle woke quickly, he was a bit surprised to find as she stirred awake and blinked her azure eyes at him, greeting him with a smile. Idly, Ragnar watched her move slowly, awkwardly, out of breath even from those slight movements. His ears laid back to hover at half mast atop his skull for a few seconds as he frowned and internally fretted over what was normal for a pregnancy and what wasn’t; next year would be better he deduced because he would have this year to go off of. Gradually, he chased those worries off, not wanting them to get into a lover’s spat because he was fretting, rather needlessly (payback, maybe?!) and given her mood swings he did not want to start something. Not when he had such good news to share with her. Proud news.
The feel of her nuzzling his fur and nipping at his shoulder was a customary thing for the Viking - though he had yet to grow accustomed to the tingling her touch brought to the scarred tissue from where he had been injured in the landslide. He doubted he would ever get used to it but was grateful because it wasn’t a bad feeling. Ragnar glanced down at the deer pelt once more, following her gaze, a slow smirk tugging at the edges of his lips.
At his next words her brow became more confused. Why would he want my approval? he does not know me? Not that I mind i am merely curious. It is indeed a very good gift and yes he seems like a good brother from what I have seen. She thought back on the day of meeting the other viking warrior and had to admit he was kind to her, when he could have been anything but. She supposed he would not appreciate her saying he was kind, as if he was like his brother he found pride in the fact that he was wild and savage. She would look forward to using that pelt and it was large enough for her and babies.
Thistle froze for a moment at his words he met pump, she was immediately a little nervous. Given the nightmare the other day and his want to leave she wondered if the two had a spat. Was the meeting a good one?
Ragnar considered that perhaps by being elusive he was coming off as secretive to her, and maybe because of that causing her to worry over what he was going to say. He could have came right out and said it: announced it big as he pleased, but that was too over the top for Ragnar, and too arrogant even for his standards.
Ragnar had made no secrets of hiding his displeasure, or his plans from his wife. While any other wolf might have turned him in for conspiring (in a sense) they were a team. Equals; and if Ragnar could not even trust his own wife with such delicate matters then there was truly no one in the world he could trust.
Thistle listened wit hrapt attention and on the words of the children her ears went back and then forwards. To be honest she hadn't thought of them being Crete's in some time. As far as she was concerned regardless of who fathered them biologically, Ragnar was their father, making children did not make you a father raising them did and that was the simple truth of the matter. As far as i am concerned Ragnar you are regardless of anything and truth be told I haven't thought of anyone else being their father in some time. And honesty is always the best policy. Thistle was not a liar ever she always adhered to the truth though sometimes she did delicately so as to not hurt someone.
The next words caused her ears to perk up and her smile to fully brighten her face. WHy thats wonderful Ragnar I am very proud of you! That is what you wanted at least partially and I know you still want the forest and such, but at least this is a step towards you're goals. She wrapped herself around him slightly nuzzling his shoulder and his side then backing up to pepper kisses across his face and jaw.
Ragnar’s scarred ear twitched at Thistle’s words, holding the attempt as it seemed to him, to soothe his suspicions and worries. It was wrong to immediately suspect Dagrún of betrayal when nothing had been done to warrant it. He could not place the blame of his other brothers upon the dark Viking and Ragnar knew it, knew that though he did not hold grudges he did not ever forget. Björn had paid with his life for what he had done to their father (and because Ragnar had fancied Tyra at the time), and Váli…well Váli was paying with the loss of the Cove, and really despite Dagrún’s protesting Ragnar didn’t really hold the elicit affair and now mateship against Sif and Váli. He could have, quite easily if he was the kind of man that held onto those things, but he wasn’t and so, simply, he didn’t. The Gods would punish them for it since Ragnar was not there to do it himself. There was no sense in wasting the energy on it.
The force of Thistle’s smile - bright and beautiful nearly knocked the breath out of Ragnar as she assaulted him with it. So was that what it was like for her when he smiled? He couldn’t help but wonder.
Thistle looked at him and spoke quietly looking down at her paws for a moment Truth be told Ragnar I do not remember much from that meeting. I was far to ill and down in the dumps to really worry about anything at the time. Though it does make sense and it did make sense to not say anything until asked after all truth be told it really isn't anyone's business. that wasn't entirely true and she knew that, but she was feeling finicky about it. She shrugged then and smiled again tucking her muzzle to rub across her side to soothe some of the cramping that had come on suddenly as it always did.
Thistle laughed outright at he mere thought of her husband turning down the position he had been vying for almost since the beginning of his time here in the ridge. I have no doubt that you would accept such a position even if you were so mad you could literally pitch a fit, a rather savage murderous fit, but a fit all the same. in her quiet way she was saying she knew perfectly well that nothing would keep him from taking such a position. Thistle gave him a rather ornery grin and said softly rather defined muscle i might add too Ragnar. she teased him gently.
In a way, she had it right but also, as Ragnar was sure the both of them knew, wrong. It wasn’t any one’s business but it was because they were apart of this pack and a pack needed to work as a cohesive unit or else it would fall to it’s knees bloody and beheaded. They were allowed privacy as individuals but also they weren’t allotted much of it as a family. Secrets were best not kept when they could get around and become some ugly, twisted version of the truth.
He smiled wryly at her words but in truth, though he understood she had not intended them that way, it made his near single minded drive and ambitiousness as greediness. Maybe he was greedy. Maybe his entire culture and kinsmen were greedy; they certainly put it off when they raided and slaughtered innocent packs for the simple sake of self preservation. For food and medicines so they could continue to thrive and survive in a world where only the fittest did actually survive. His eyes were grim as he processed that, wishing for the smallest moment, that Nerian had never told him about her “seven deadly sins”. He still did not entirely understand them - he would never fully understand her or her ways; but he shrugged it off in the next hairsbreadth of a second, offering his wife a lazy, albeit suggestive smirk.
Thistle raised an eyebrow, truth be told she hadn't even thought of the next year. She was in the here and now. Being the way she was she usually did not look to the future to far, preferring rather to look at the here and now. It was both a flaw and a strength she supposed depending on who was looking and analyzing it. It was good to look to the future, but why worry or dwell on what could happen when you had stuff happening right now. Yes we will. she chuckled at the thought as well realizing at that moment that her husband planned her to be pregnant every year she could. It was a good thing she was handling this so well then she supposed. It was hard on her yes, but for the most part it was also easy and she did not mind it. The sickness had driven her mad, but it was but a fleeting memory now as she felt the little ones move around.
If her husband would have asked she would have easily told him she did not see his ways as greedy. It was their ways it was the way of his culture and in the north it was the way to be if you wanted to survive she was certain and that did not make you greedy it made you smart and tactical. It was the truth of the matter when analyzed. Even Gavriil who was from the north spoke of raids and fighting to survive as did many others she had met briefly who came from that area. So now she saw it as a way of life, yes a savage and wild one, but a way none the less.
She chuckled at that and licked his muzzle "yes that Iwould Ragnar that I would. Her blue eyes flashed playfully at him as she was remembering the forest as was he she was sure.
If it had never been for his Priestess and her near constant talk of sins he might have never understood avarice and might not have found himself wondering if they were a culture plagued with it. Was it something that could be inherited through the years from father to son? The thought of avarice, the mere consideration of it made Ragnar wonder for a moment if something wasn’t happening to him. Why was he so suddenly concerned with if he sounded greedy or not? Ambition was a ravenous thing, he knew it, he accepted it and attributed to his previous thought he would teach their sons that while it was a good thing, it was also a blinding thing, hungry like a monster that became stronger the more it was fed. It was, like most aspects of Ragnar, a dangerous thing. Giving his head a firm shake he attempted to dispel it and yet, it did not fully work and his mind only wondered more, spurred, as he always was, by his curiosity. How was he greedy? Sure, Loki was a greedy God but Ragnar did not worship Loki he worshiped Odinn and the Allfather had yet to reprimand Ragnar for anything of the sort. When they didn’t punish for it as Nerian’s God did. It was her nameless, faceless deity that was greedy; like Loki. Greedy, selfish, and horrible to his many wives (going with Ragnar’s conviction of that because this deity never loved them, never gave them the pleasure that a man could and would).
Do you think I am greedy?
Thistle was curious as to what had even brought this on, but soon enough the priestesses name came into it. Truth be told Thistle knew next to nothing about Nerian or her god or gods other than the fact that she was her husbands slave. They had an interesting relationship of slave and master, most slaves would not deign to speak to their master about sins or their gods or anything of the like at least she didn't think so in her mind a slave just did what they were told and didn't argue, which is probably truthfully why she wasn't fond of the ldea. She would think more on their relationship later for now she was trying to focus on the question at hand.
Did she think he was greedy truthfully no she did not he seemed ambitious yes, but so far he had not wanted things and then once he got them wanted more. However ,she had never seen him in a raid either, he very well may have been greedy during them. She looked at him and frowned as she contemplated what and how to answer. No RAgnar I do not think you are Greedy I think you are ambitious which is a totally different thing. Usually when you think of greed you think that someone has a lot of something and they just want more more more and you are not like that at least thus far. Now I can't say for sure as I have never seen you in a raid. Once you get the items you want and need do you keep going back for more even though you do not need it and you have enough. If the answer is yes to that then yes you are greedy, but I have not seen a greedy side to you only an ambitious one.
Thistle listened as he spoke of Nerian's god, I am afraid I have not spoken to Nerian about her god, her sins though yes. Perhaps he is loki in disguise. the way with Gods though is one will never really know they are paramount and awe inspiring and we cannot even fathom them truthfully.
The relationship Ragnar had with Nerian was not, truly, despite what both of them claimed was not a master and slave relationship. He did not make her do his work for him. He did not treat her like she was dirt beneath his toes. He might not have viewed her as an equal, and they might have disagreed on many, many things only proving to frustrate and irritate each other profusely but he wasn’t sure that he viewed her as a slave either. He did not rape her, as his kinsmen did to their slaves, and though her stories of her Gods and temples proved to confuse him at times he was fascinated by her way of life, regardless -- even if he did not agree with it. He treated her quite well, took care of her, protected her and though he had yet to tell her, even respected her. For her resilience. Perhaps that was why he had always called her Priestess instead of ‘slave’. He had stolen her from her home on a raid, yes, he had killed and slaughtered just as his kinsmen had, yes, but they had a strange sort of …tentative friendship.
Thistle thought about that and she supposed they could be considered the same in retrospect, but normally ambition was also hand and hand with hard work and determination where greed was just the want of things the easy way. One could argue that yes Ragnar, but ambition walks paw in paw with hard work and determination both of which you do and have. Whereas greed is just the want of something and usually you want it the easiest way. You my love are willing to work for what you want and that is what makes your's ambition and not greed. She tilted her head as he spoke of raids, they were in truth not that bad and she was certain that the same packs that he would raid would raid him as well, it was the way of life in the North. Yes see if you had been greedy you would have taken it all and killed them all. You just took what you needed to survive.
Thistle chuckled a bit at him as he justified how the God was Loki. She believed him, but she did have to point out that Nerian did not. Nerian has faith in her god, she does not need to see him or know what he looks like or anything to know he exists. It's like the flowers we know the exist even if we don't see them yes? Because they have always been there. Perhaps it is Loki, it probably is as he is cloaked invisible, but it is still her god and her faith and what she believes in. I have found that no matte rhow much you disagree or don't believe in someone else's gods if they truly do there is nothing yo ucan do or say to change that.
Thistle quirked an eyebrow that is not what I said Ragnar I said that you were not greedy because you didn't take more than you needed. It is neither selfish or greedy Ragnar it is your way of life to do those things. She shook her head at him a small smile ghosting her lips. Ragnar you are not a heathen to me at least, but I understand your culture a little better now. if others knew that it was a way of life for you then they would accept it too and you would be not considered heathens.
Thistle laughed at his obvious change of subject. No I am not hungry for anything really ragnar. She did not say anything about the faith or Nerian choosing to let that matter rest. She was thinking hard about what she could give him for what she was hungry for then she smiled Maybe a squirrel or two. Squirrel would be fine for her.
Thistle shook her head No just squirrel, I find the closer i get to having these pups the less of an appetite I have. She did not know this was normal, she just knew that she was not hungry. She assumed it had something to do with her body getting ready to go into labor, as her cramps became more frequent but not quite where they needed to be yet.
It was kind of an ironic thing, having his wife, an newcomer to the Viking culture defend his home to him, a generation born Viking through and through. It was only because of Nerian’s influence and her endless questions that picked apart the very bones of his culture that Ragnar was left wondering, or maybe it was bound to happen anyway - these questions. He sought knowledge like it was life. Understanding (or trying to at least) a culture different than his was another form of acquiring knowledge.
It wasn’t like the pack had any friendships they had to worry about breaking.
His attention focused back on Thistle then, trying to erase the frown that had seized his lips when she confirmed that she just wanted squirrel and that she wasn’t very hungry. Eyes narrowed slightly as he studied her again, having no idea if it was something to worry about or not. The silver Viking hesitated then, detaching himself from her side.
She smiled at him as she licked his face and gently nuzzled his shoulder. yes Ragnar I promise will tell you if something is wrong or if I feel odd. I do not feel any different just less hungry, but do not worry I am eating just not as much as I was a few days ago.
There had been only two times now that Ragnar had came face to face with Odinn on the cusp of his death, the singing of metal striking metal (because for some reason I keep picturing them becoming human when they go to Valhalla, lol) of Valhalla, the seductive laughter of the Valkryies as they cheered and cajoled and encouraged the warriors to fight each other to the death only for each one that died to be resurrected so they could feast and drink the night away. Only one of those times was Ragnar aware of it. The second time had been when he had had his first fever, the wound from the landslide having festered with deep infection. He had been lucky. Lucky that Odinn had stuck to his promise of giving Ragnar a long and fulfilling life before he was claimed for the ranks of Valhalla, and lucky that he had Thistle. The first time had been on a raid of the Crimson Cliff pack, he had fought and took deep injuries and had began to run to where he had known Floki and Dagrun had been waiting only to back himself up to the edge of the cliff the pack had been named for. He had stood peering down at the depths of the water, though Floki and Dagrun stood a few feet away in the shallows watching him with trepidation. Ragnar had fallen unconscious, the sway of his body plummeting him down into the water where presumably Dagrun had pulled him from.
He had figured that he would see Valhalla at that point but somehow the Gods willed him not to die, and Floki had managed to heal the flesh wounds.
Thistle was no fool, she had felt the scars that littered her mates pelt, she had seen some and felt others, so she knew they were there. She also knew he most likely got them from raids. After all what wolf is not going to protect their homeland and their daughters and their wives. She knew for a fact that if they were to have a daughter she would be the apple of Ragnar's eye and if anyone tried to take her from them, she was certain that he would rip out their lungs and their hearts and feed it too them. So it was only natural that others were the same way and he bore the scars as testament to that.
Thistle smiled and licked his face and nodded I will call you if these babies decide to come Ragnar though I am pretty sure I have a few days, but not many left. She wanted him to understand that it was almost inevitable that she have babies soon. Withing the next few days. Her small way of telling him to not travel far.