Ragnar understood his wife was teasing but the threat beneath her tongue-in-cheek words was, however, a true one. They had been over it many times when in truth she had only needed to make her threat to him once …not that if things had gone differently than they had (I.E. he wouldn’t have fell in love with her) that it would have truly deterred him. Ragnar did not fear death. It was embraced welcomingly in his culture though a warrior typically wished to die on the battlefield and not at the hands of a woman left scorned.
It became apparent to the Viking that his wife did not approve of his need to take it into his own hands and handle it and made it clear when she told him, flat out, ‘no’. “Do not let her know I told you she is in love with me,” It was his turn to interject something. He would do as she wished because she promised she could handle it maturely and Ragnar, in that way, was showing that he trusted her to do so; that didn’t mean he couldn’t set some ground rules for it, as well. The fact that Thistle was so willing to harm Nerian for something she couldn’t help — in a hilariously ironic turn of events — bothered Ragnar. “She is my slave,” Ragnar reminded his wife stoically. “If you do not want me to interfere in your fight with her over me,” Or whatever it was, his annoyance was pronounced by the lash of his tail. “Then you will not interfere on how I handle it if she tries again.”
He inhaled deeply when she buried her face into his shoulder after nipping at it, and buried his muzzled into the fur of her neck. “I will not fight with you over property, wife. When she helps me get what I want I will give her the freedom she desires and she will go back to the home I stole her from. Back to her Priestesses like she wants too.” And as far as Ragnar was concerned that was the end of it.
