Ragnar’s brow furrowed when she spoke that she knew he wasn’t a God, eerily mirroring his thoughts, though the Viking let it roll off of his shoulders simply because it was probably nothing more than coincidence. “I know you were,” Ragnar muttered gruffly but she was right. The point of fact had been that he hadn’t liked it. He wasn’t a tyrant and her words that he could have forced everyone into attending and liking it had made him feel like perhaps she suspected he had the potential to be tyrannical; if Thistle, his own wife thought it then there was no doubt that the others did too. That wasn’t to claim he couldn’t be. His culture did not demand such limiting things as ‘morals’ and Ragnar was nothing if not dangerous. “I watched a man stand above my people and demand they obey him without an opinion, took their freedoms away from them and treated them as if they were no better than slaves to him. And I killed him for it.” It was only one part to the many parts of why Ragnar had killed Björn and ironically, none of them had been for the helm of the Cove which came along with his brother’s death. "I am many things, Thistle, but never a tyrant." Of course, that was probably an opinion more than it was a fact.
A short, harsh laugh left the Viking as his tail lashed viciously behind him. “The bear never left,” If she deluded herself into thinking it didn’t lurk in the shadows of the Ridge then she was fooling herself. “It wants us out of this land, Thistle, whether we leave peacefully or he has to sever all of our spines.” His words were harsh, but true. Ragnar had dared to go where he had specifically told his pack to stay away from in their own territory. He kept an eye on it so he knew it’s whereabouts. “I have nightmares too, Thistle and not just of Pump. Of every battle I’ve ever fought, of every life I saw fade out of the eyes of those who were below me, of every creature’s blood I have bathed in. Do you not think that I am not weary? I am. I am weary, wife, and blood sick. I want so bad to go to Stavanger Bay and relish in the peace. To watch our children grow without intruding packs and blood hungry bears.” He hadn’t meant to lose his patience with her, or he realized as he took a step back, get in her face as he had. He was just sick of it all, and tired. She said that she knew but Ragnar couldn’t help but wonder if she truly knew. He was strong because he had to be and hid everything behind a stoical mask he had perfected long ago but he was only a man and the cracks were beginning to vein their way through the mask, dangerously.
He watched wearily as she ghosted towards him, unable to help his wry smirk as it tugged at the edges of his lips when she tucked her head beneath his muzzle and softly asked him to make her forget for a little while. He did not respond for a moment before he growled low in his throat and reached for her scruff as he pulled away and slid against her side, ready to pull her into his lover’s embrace.
