A skeptic snort escaped the dark Viking’s leathery, black nostrils at Ragnar’s arrogance, his own steel eyes rolling. It was not unexpected, Ragnar’s cockiness, but it was still annoying, despite all these years. Physical looks had not been something that Dagrún had ever paid much mind or attention too. What would looks get you in life? What would they say at the funeral pyre “oh he was handsome”. Handsomeness would not get someone into Valhalla. Maybe it was true that all of Eitri’s sons were handsome in their own way, as handsome as any savage could be, anyway, but on the scale of things that mattered, shallow things were the lowest point. “I noticed,” Dagrún retorted on the subject of Thistle being pregnant. Anyone with eyes (and perhaps even those without) could very well see that the girl was pregnant. So pregnant in fact that she looked like she might pop at any given second. “I don’t mean to worry you brother, but you might want to lavish Frigg and Freyja with gifts and sacrifices. Your shield maiden is so tiny,” Dagrún remarked, in a thoughtful tone. As it was both of the Viking men nearly dwarfed her, leaving Dagrún to contemplate how she managed to hold Ragnar’s weight and bulk atop her (not that he really wanted that particular image in his mind). “She is pretty, though,” Dagrún murmured with a smirk, in a congratulating tone, that was a little bit cheeky. “You and your delicate women. I want my wife to be sturdy so I’m not afraid I might crush her.” The dark Viking laughed then, the sound almost booming in the quiet of the steaming springs.
Dagrún almost let it be known that that Ragnar’s family was back in the Cove making a clusterfuck of a mess with it, and Kenna, Kenna went around starry eyed blabbering about how Váli was such a wonderful leader - better than even Eirti himself (whom as far as Dagrún heard had been one of the Cove’s better leaders). It was disgusting how their mother fawned all over her youngest as if the sun set and rose upon him. Even Dagrún's own mother didn't dote that much upon him and he was her only child. Barely, Dagrún resisted. “Well ask me then so you might get back to your wife and me to the Mountain.” Dagrún encouraged his older brother with a slight snap of impatience, irritated, however he tried to hide it, that Ragnar would not return to Odinn’s Cove and because of this, neither would Dagrún who had promised to either come back with the rightful Jarl or not at all.