Ragnar considered that perhaps by being elusive he was coming off as secretive to her, and maybe because of that causing her to worry over what he was going to say. He could have came right out and said it: announced it big as he pleased, but that was too over the top for Ragnar, and too arrogant even for his standards. “Because you are my wife? I don’t know, I didn’t ask - just accepted his gift.” Ragnar told her honestly with an errant shrug of his broad and scarred shoulders. Did it really matter why Dagrun wanted to be in her good graces? Ragnar didn’t think so, but perhaps his wife shared a different opinion on the matter than he did. “He hasn’t stabbed me in the back yet,” Ragnar spoke bluntly with a wry smile. “If that’s what you mean then yes: he is a good brother.” There was always that suspicion though; because Björn and Váli had both done it, but also because Dagrun was just as ambitious as Ragnar (ok maybe not as ambitious). Ambition was something that made Ragnar weary if only because he understood it very well.
Ragnar had made no secrets of hiding his displeasure, or his plans from his wife. While any other wolf might have turned him in for conspiring (in a sense) they were a team. Equals; and if Ragnar could not even trust his own wife with such delicate matters then there was truly no one in the world he could trust. “She asked me questions, the first being if I had anything to do with the children in your womb,” Her suspicion had been raised with how easily he had accepted them and besides, there was no point in lying to her. “I told her that they may be mine.” Ragnar told Thistle, meeting her eyes. “Some more questions came after,” But they were not of importance to relay back to Thistle. “And offered for me to lead with her.” Ironic if only because he hadn't expected it and because he had remained confident she would never give him the Second in Command position; yet she had and he had accepted.
