Horizon Ridge On a rush of angel wings

“Floki is a …madman, but very good healer,” Ragnar spoke fondly of the Viking medic, smiling slightly to himself. “Loki is a very greedy God,” And not one that Ragnar ever felt the need to pay any sort of homage too. He was a trickster and the Viking found himself weary of the mischievous God. “He was…is Floki’s favorite for reasons,” Ragnar paused to lick his lips. “We all have our favorite Gods.” He would teach Thistle to be a Viking yet, he was determined. “Yes. It is a very old pack, my great, great, great grandfather was one of it’s founders. The leadership varied, unlike most packs I know it is not automatically granted by having come from the Jarl’s loins. It is a position hard earned and always well fought to the death,” Ragnar spoke having no intention of stopping figuring she deserved to know all the in and outs of his past life to understand how he thought and lived now, as his wife. “My father won it shortly before I was born, my older brother Björn took our father’s life for it out of greed and I took it from him,” It had not been one of Ragnar’s proudest moments for it had been not greed but lust that had bathed him in the warm blood of his brother as he lay dying at Ragnar’s paws, yet he had no choice but to step up regardless. In part, it had also been done in vengeance of their father.

“It is harsh but we are a ruthless people and it has been our way for many years and packs.” The Lothbrok name was not a name that anyone else had given him, it was his and only his to give to her, therefore making it meaningful. “I do. None of my previous wives bore it.” He told her hoping that it made up some for his treatment of them, knowing that she was not fond of how easily he had disregarded them. Yet, if he had not let them go he might not have been here, with her now. “It is quite a mouthful.” He teased her lightly with a soft chuckle and a mischievous grin.