Stavanger Bay It's the truth of the game
I was a rover, an outrider, a silver tongued devil. I was inflicted and I was broken. I've been many things.
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@Ragnar

Gunnar strode around the pack lands. His eyes half closed with sleep, he shook his head a few times, finally forcing them completely open. He looked around, he didn't really want to go on an adventure today. He would much rather stay at home and work on some of his other trades, gamekeeping for instance could be fun to work on from the confines of home. So with a small look around, he bent his nose awkwardly to the ground and started off on a shuffling gait, to try and find some prey to pounce upon. His ears, paws, and legs were still too large for his body, making him look a bit like a crane with really long legs and slender body.

He was near about the same size as his mother now, and it was odd to look his mother in the eye. She had seemed so big, larger than life as a pup. And now when he looked at her, he saw the delicate woman she was and he wondered sometimes how his father could stand to let her do what she wanted. He'd have to ask, because in his arrogant child like brain, his mother was just so tiny how could she do much damage...because he felt like he couldn't and they were the same size. Nerian too, he'd have to ask how they protected themselves, when they were small. He shrugged and continued on his way.
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Ragnar had ambled around a bit after bidding goodbye to Thistle, making last little preparations for his outrider trip, knowing that in truth there was only one more that he needed to say goodbye too, having already spoke his goodbyes to Ein and Gyda, and Nerian. The left Gunnar, last but never least to the scarred Scandinavian. It seemed sort of silly to Ragnar, to be bidding his family goodbye when he was just going on a little outrider mission but Ragnar wasn't so arrogant as to think that something couldn't happen. Sure, he had the Allfather's favor but he wasn't so blind as to not realize how fickle the Gods could be at times and just because he held it now did not mean that he would hold it forever. Ragnar wasn't sure if Odinn would ever go back on his promise of allowing Ragnar a long and prosperous life or not but he had no intentions of tempting the Norns in case they decided to snip his thread of life earlier than they had first intended too.

Tracking his second son was surprisingly easy, starting from the den and simply following the scent trail that Gunnar left in his wake. It didn't take the Viking long to find his son, and the Jarl let out a soft chuff as he came up behind the boy, who looked like a male copy of his Queen Wife. They were even the same size, now, though Gunnar was much broader than his mother, naturally. “Gunnar, do you have a moment?” Ragnar inquired, not wanting to take too much of his son's day away but not wanting to leave without saying goodbye, either.

I was a rover, an outrider, a silver tongued devil. I was inflicted and I was broken. I've been many things.
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Gunnar was lost in his own world, as he tracked whatever it was he was following. He knew his father was leaving soon, and figured he'd find him to tell him goodbye. Not that Gunnar really grasped the fact that his father may not come back. He was still pretty young, and to him his father was larger than life and not able to be harmed or anything of the like. He heard his father's voice and rather disappointed to have to stop, but also happy to see his father he turned with a wag of his tail and body. "Hey faðir. Ég hef alltaf tíma fyrir þig."

He wagged his tail and then remembering his former thoughts, he spoke again as he strode forward to lick the underside of his chin. "Faðir, meðan ég er að hugsa um það. Hví þú lætur mamma og Nerian fara gera eigin hlutur þeirra? Þeirra svo lítil, eru ekki hræddur þeir fá meiða?" He knew shield maidens were strong, but he just couldn't fathom how his mother and Nerian could defeat any foe, although he didn't think Nerian was really a shield Maiden like his mother.
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A soft smile graced Ragnar's lips when Gunnar confirmed that he always had time for him, which was nice to hear. He had once worried that Gunnar would grow to resent him because Ragnar had been fairly certain that for a while Thistle had resented him for his choices regarding Nerian and Thistle and Gunnar were close. Looking at it now, Ragnar was relieved and glad that Gunnar and Thistle were close because it meant, at least, that if something did happen to him Gunnar would keep her safe. A soft chuckle left the scarred Scandinavian's lips as Gunnar spoke his thoughts aloud. Gunnar didn't yet understand how women worked, but in time, Ragnar was confident, he would learn. He looked down at his second born son, frosted gaze meeting his Queen Wife's mini-me's. “Of course I worry,” He would be a poor(er) husband if he didn't worry about their safety. Nerian wasn't overly confrontational and so it was Thistle that Ragnar worried about the most. As far as anyone was concerned she might as well have considered herself to be the mortal incarnation of Frigg the Queen of the Valkyrja. “You will understand someday when you have a wife of your own son that women will do what they want,” It wasn't Ragnar's right to take their freedom away from them and he could tell Thistle not to do something willing to have bet his life that she would do it anyway.

“Women do what they think is right even if it is stupid. You tell them and hope that they listen knowing that there's a good chance they won't.” To Ragnar, he had entirely summed up his experiences with the opposite sex.

“Can I ask something of you?” Ragnar asked Gunnar, severity heavy in his soft tone.

I was a rover, an outrider, a silver tongued devil. I was inflicted and I was broken. I've been many things.
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Gunnar returned his father's smile and his father spoke to him in common tongue, so he dropped the Norse off his words. He really didn't understand how women worked, he wasn't sure if he ever would or even if he wanted too. Sometimes they seemed like just a whole lot of trouble if his father and mother's fights were anything to go buy. And two might as well forget it, one was more than enough. Gunnar frowned, but nodded his head. It was probably true, his mother was stubborn enough to do her own thing.

Gunnar was put on guard at the heaviness of his father's words, but he nodded a little wary. yes father. What would you ask of me? Then he looked at his father with steely gray eyes and waited.
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Ragnar figured, someday, when Gunnar was older they could revisit the topic of women and then, perhaps, Gunnar would understand. Or maybe he wouldn't. Perhaps his son would be smarter than him and pick a woman who didn't have quite the fiery spirit of Thistle. Nerian didn't exactly do what she was told, either, but she was more willing to obey him than Thistle was. Whether that was a good thing or not Ragnar had yet to entirely deduce. Gunnar seemed willing to comply to Ragnar's inquiry, and though the scarred Scandinavian truly hated to put so much pressure on the shoulders of his young son he knew that he could trust him. It wasn't something he could ask Verrine since the Ostrega man had his own family to take care of without needing the extra burden of keeping an eye upon the Lodbrok clan as well. Ragnar would have entrusted it to Ein as well but something held him back, perhaps it was Ein's own hermit like behaviors as of late, not unlike the behaviors of Nerian and Gyda. “I know it is a lot to ask,” Ragnar drew in a deep breath, eyes of caribbean ice apologetic. “But I want you to promise me that if something were to happen to me on this trip that you'll take care of your mother. That you'll protect the family.” It was a very heavy burden to place on the shoulders of a child but he had to make sure that someone would look out for them if the worst came to pass. Even if that someone was his second born, still a child himself, son.

I was a rover, an outrider, a silver tongued devil. I was inflicted and I was broken. I've been many things.
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Gunnar fully believed his mother when she said you couldn't help who you fell in love with. So he knew in some way that even if he didn't wnat someone with quite such a fiery spirit as his mother, or a passive nature as Nerian. He probably really wouldn't have a choice in the matter. He was still pretty confused on such details and he could not fathom loving someone anyway, but he supposed somewhere in his mind he knew a little bit about it.

Gunnar frowned at his father's heavy words. He did however hold himself a little higher and stiffer, because he knew it was a big responsibility. He also knew it was one he could not shirk because he would never forgive himself and his father probably wouldn't either. I promise father. I'll take care of them all. But you'll be fine I know you will. You have Odin's favor for now, I know he can take it at anytime. One thing his father had taught them was the truth of the Gods, to be brave, to work hard and to learn all they could.
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I hope you don't mind that I upped this thread to take place after the kids find out about their parentage. It makes more sense to me. :P

Ragnar watched as his second born frowned at the words and heavy burden that he was placing upon the young child's shoulders — because that was what Gunnar and Mercury were. Children. Even if they held the bodies of young adults they were still children and this kind of responsibility was a heavy one for those so young. “This isn't a decision that I make lightly, Gunnar, and I am sorry that I have to force you to recognize that this might be something you have to do, that I may not come back from this. “If you can get Mercury to come around then I am sure he will gladly step up too.” Mercury might not have wanted to be a Viking, and the two of them might not have been on good footing these days with the truth having came about regarding their parentage but there wasn't anyone that Ragnar trusted more than his sons with it, even if at the end of the day they wished to shed the Lodbrok name in favor of DiSarinno. In Ragnar's mind they would never truly be Crete's sons. He had no right to call himself their father when he'd never been there to begin with. “This is a delicate mission, not something I am very good at it. I hold no presumptions about how it may or may not go.” Ragnar was confident but he wasn't stupid — far from it, despite what his quietness might initially let on to those who did not know him.

I was a rover, an outrider, a silver tongued devil. I was inflicted and I was broken. I've been many things.
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[size=x-small]No problem for me :)[/size]

Gunnar shook his head It's okay father I don't mind. I know it's my responsibility to help when you aren't here and I'll take care of them the best I can. it was a heavy burden to lay on the youths shoulders. And in away it would probably make him grow up quicker. It would however also give him something to strive for, he could learn to be warrior and such as he wanted to do.

Gunnar could care less who his biological father was. It didn't really bother him, sure he had questions that he wanted answers to like why he left? Or what he had been thinking to use his mother so? But at the same time, he was proud to call Ragnar father even if he wasn't his biological father.

Gunnar smiled Delicate situations are hard for all us men dad.
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While Gunnar himself did not mind, that did not mean that that Ragnar didn't mind. It wasn't right to place such heavy burdens at the feet of his young children, but Ragnar didn't have a choice. There wasn't really anyone else that he could say that he trusted like that, except for perhaps Verrine and Julooke but both of them were busy with their own brood and he could not ask such things of two new parents. “I shouldn't have to ask these things of you, you are still just a boy,” And it bothered Ragnar but he was fresh out of options. It wasn't like Thistle or Nerian were trained how to fight or anything, and he wasn't so sure that either of his wives had what it took to kill. Not that he wished to place the heavy burden of that upon his young son as well but they would take it one step at a time, Ragnar supposed; and if anything did happen to him he wanted his sons to have his legacy. It was theirs just as much as it was his own. “Indeed they are,” Ragnar laughed and nudged his young son roughly. “When did you become so wise?” The scarred Scandinavian sighed, wondering if he'd missed more of their lives than he had originally thought he had.

I was a rover, an outrider, a silver tongued devil. I was inflicted and I was broken. I've been many things.
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Gunnar supposed his dad was right, he was still just a child. However, he was also a viking child and he knew that as part of his legacy he would be expected to fight and die if needed. So, it was with this attitude he went into life. He lived up the moment as best he could. He was turning into an introspective child, but as he grew he imagined he'd grow into a strong warrior or he hoped anyway and this was the best way to learn.

Gunnar knew his mother was mostly delicate, Nerian too. However, he also knew and had seen his mother when she was protecting her own brood. And he was fairly certain that if it came to his life or his brothers or his sisters, his mother would rip out the heart of whomever threatened them and force feed it to them.

Gunnar grinned up at his dad I guess you just raised me right huh dad.
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#12
Last post for me. :-)

Ragnar offered his son a soft smile, when the boy grinned up at him and spoke aloud that he supposed his wise-ness had everything to do with Ragnar's rearing of them. Though it would have been simple to let such a compliment go straight to his head, Ragnar practiced a good measure of modesty in that moment. “You are wise on your own, son. It has nothing to do with me.” Morals and values, perhaps, but intelligence couldn't be taught. It was a trait that Gunnar had developed on his own, and in this, Ragnar felt that the credit belonged upon Gunnar's own shoulders. “You may follow me to the borders if you wish,” Ragnar invited, pausing to stretch. Already he had wasted enough time. He needed to get on the mission or he wouldn't do it. Already, he had let the trail get too cold but not charging out the Bay the second Julooke had stumbled back to them, half alive. getur Óðinn vaka yfir þér á meðan ég er farinn Ragnar murmured in his native tongue before he turned and left, figuring that if Gunnar wanted to accompany him to the borders the boy would lope after him without further encouragement.