“He dealt with me by knocking me out with some flowers,” Yes, Ragnar did that on purpose because he liked to tease at her. “That isn’t to say he didn’t try to use feminine wiles on me,” Ragnar let out a barking laugh that shook his shoulders as his laughter wracked him. “Floki does not make a good woman.” Ragnar’s tone was dark, lowered as if he feared Floki might materialize out of the thin air though they were miles and miles away, but his grin was nothing short of nefarious. “Missing all the right parts, and he’s not very pretty, either.” Jabbing fun at Floki, without Floki’s presence was wistful, but made a soft sigh of longing for his friend since childhood. This was how it was. He had been lucky that Nerian and Dagrún had followed him to the Teekon Wilds though both of those had not been by coincidence. Dagrún had left Odinn’s Cove in search of Ragnar because he wanted Ragnar to go back to the Cove, to take back what was rightfully his as Jarl but that wasn’t going to happen. Ragnar had a family here, was going to start a pack here right where Odinn desired him to be. Nerian had tracked him down because she, too, wanted something from the once Jarl. Her freedom. Of which Ragnar had no intentions of giving back to his Priestess until she helped him form his pack.
Perhaps that was inherently cruel of the Viking but he came from a ruthless and cruel people and he did not see it that way. He saw it as a part of life; a part of his Priestess’ life; and he would keep to his word so long as she served him loyally and faithfully.
Ragnar gave Thistle a dubious look, laced with suspicion when she began to explain lilacs in vivid detail to him, hindering on the intuition that she knew he had no semblance of an idea what a lilac was. She did not come right out and ask him, of course, but Ragnar was nothing if not clever and a coy little smirk tugged at the edges of his lips as if he shared the secret with her. She was humoring his ego by playing along like he knew when in reality they both knew otherwise. Impossibly, it made Ragnar love her even more even if he itched to call her out on it. “Then I will pick you some,” He declared and finally allowed himself to reach down to brush his lips at the fur beneath her ear before he pulled back.
“Girls can get them too, yes, especially if they are shield maidens,” It was not unheard of but some of them bore the markings of whatever God or Goddess they chose to associate with. Usually, everyone had a favorite or two. “It can be anywhere they want it. Mine is supposed to be a raven for Odinn, like Huginn and Muinnin,” Ragnar did not bother to explain Thought and Memory to Thistle who no doubt remembered the two ravens. “They are all different and the symbol differs for each God or Goddess. Like Thor’s would be an anvil. Fenrir, who Dagrún follows would be a wolf, like us; Floki has a serpent on his left hip,” He explained to her, willing to sate her curiosity. Curiosity was a good thing (not only because Ragnar was an extremely curious creature himself) because it meant she wanted to learn. It was something Odinn could praise and appreciate.
