Ragnar felt Thistle’s body stiffen against his at the dark growl that emitted from low in his throat at his unease, at the mere suspicion that he felt threatened. It was an assurance as much to himself as it was to her that he would not let anyone harm her or his children. Ragnar himself wasn’t exactly sure who it was meant for, simply he knew that it was just what it was. A low warning uttered in the still of the night, whether they heard it or not. There was a small surge of guilt that overcame the Viking when Thistle gasped at his words, at the retelling of the things that haunted his dreams, knowing that it would upset her. That had been his initial reason as to why he had not wanted too. “No one will touch them or you,” He vowed in a low murmur against the velveteen fur of her nearest ear. Of that she could be absolutely sure.
The Viking was silent as his wife tried to soothe him. He shifted against her, gazing out at the moonlit landscape stretching beyond the mouth of their den as he absorbed her words as she spoke them. She was right, in an aspect, it might not have necessarily meant death per say - it was true that he had not seen Odinn, whom he often saw on the battlefield raising those who had fallen to Valhalla; but he had felt a disturbance in the force air - still felt it, even now though he was wide awake and painfully conscious that made him uneasy though he could not place his paw upon it. “It wasn’t the bear,” He told her with a shake of his head knowing that for certain.
“I will never truly stop feeling threatened until I claim Ravensblood Forest for us,” He murmured to her in a low, conspirer’s tone. “I do not want the Ridge, I want the Forest. I cannot keep walking around with this ball and chain on me. Even if Pump gave me Beta we would never see eye to eye.” Ragnar knew this, could see it already, adding that to his mental list of possibilities as to why she kept pushing him back when he tried to rise up, holding things over his head to keep him deterred. Diluculo’s words came back to him then, unwelcome and unbidden but there nevertheless. “Diluculo wonders why you are higher in rank than me given you‘re supposed treason, taunted me with it, actually. I had not thought about it before but it occurred to me that Pump wants you between us in the hierarchy because she knows I will not challenge you for your rank.” It was just a theory, of course, Ragnar couldn’t really ever be sure unless he asked Pump outright.
“We could take the children and go. Sneak out.” Of course there were many preperations to be made, if Thistle agreed to his idea, and though he would have ideally liked to move before she gave birth that did not seem to be an option. Ragnar had little doubt he could gather the needed support in secrecy, rally as his human counterpart had recruited to sail west without his leader’s knowledge. It was a high treason, of course, but Ragnar was tired of waiting. Tired of the ball and chain; tired of his suspicions.
