Ragnar had led alone during the first few, and admittedly chaotic months of his leadership in Odinn’s Cove, and even when he had decided to promote someone to be his left hand man it had not been any of his wives. At first he had approached Floki, the most natural choice despite that Floki was considered the “madman healer” (with the utmost affection, of course) because Floki had been one of Ragnar’s closest and most trusted friends. His best friend, even. Floki had declined, and more than once at that. His second choice, had been his youngest brother after he had deduced that Floki would never accept the leadership position no matter how many times Ragnar asked. “You know I will always tell you what I think,” Ragnar told her softly in accordance to her terms. He had told her what he had thought of Diluculo, hadn’t he? That he didn’t trust her, and still to the very day, didn’t like her. Not that he would let his personal feelings meddle in his role as her co-leader. Personal feelings had no place in ruling and were easily separated to make the best choice for the pack. They might not always see eye to eye but they were two different wolves, with two different opinions. It was a matter of balancing them.
In a way, Ragnar saw this as a challenge - one that he was eager to accept and attempt to work with her on because he did like Pump as well as the deep rooted respect he held for her.
“I do not like to lie. In my experience it is better to be upfront about yourself and even about others than it is to hide behind spun stories.” On that particular topic, she didn’t need to worry. Admittedly, he was guilty of stretching the truth, but the only occasion that he had done that had been in regards to Crete because he wanted to ensure that should the DiSarinno male ever go graveling back to the Plateau that he would be justly punished for his crime.
