Totoka River sacrifice

Ragnar commanded him to rise and Sköll obliged, swallowing thickly against the fear of the Jarl that bubbled within his chest and threatened to lump and stick in his throat. Presently, his ears remained slicked back against his skull, knowing that Ragnar wasn’t a Jarl in these lands but that he was unable to help himself. Fear and admiration may have warred within him when it came to Ragnar Loðbrók but both dictated that he show the platinum silver man the utmost respect, even if Ragnar did not like it. He was going to get it, anyway. Old habits died hard. There was a moment when Sköll’s lips opened and closed as he tried to find the words despite their simplicity: I lost your baby siblings. Easy words that carried heavy and possibly dire consequences. Kenna’s twins might have only been partially Ragnar’s blood but everyone knew that the Jarl was big on family and the twins consisted of his family. However, before Sköll could work up the courage Ragnar took the silence to be an invitation and spoke.

Surprise flitted across Sköll’s face. Surprise and relief; and hesitation. It was great that Ragnar wanted Sköll to be apart of the Ridge. As it was, it would save Sköll a lot of the aggravation he faced on his daily routine on the Isle, and while he would seriously consider it, as long as Ragnar’s offer still stood after; the Tiny Viking blurted: “I have lost your baby siblings, Ragnar.” Knowing that he would never get it out if he stopped himself now. He slunk down, on instinct, awaiting Ragnar’s verdict with baited and fearful breath.