The sun will always rise

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Ragnar was not overly concerned about being burned alive from the knowledge that Odinn held. Even if it did prove to be more than he could realistically handle he would be resurrected by the night as if he had died in training with the other warriors and the Valkyries. "Odinn isn’t immortal and he hasn’t burned from it," Ragnar pointed out to her as a soft reminder but then again he was still a God while Ragnar was nothing more than a mortal man. The All-Father might have been capable of dying just as Ragnar was but there were still differences between the two. "I have only skimmed the infinite depths of his knowledge when he possessed me the day you became a Viking," It had burned him in the form of a delusional fever (in reality that whole thing just one hell of a hallucination from the Berserker side effects despite having not consumed the mushrooms in months before hand). It had been real to him and that was enough for Ragnar to believe that it was true and that it had happened. "I could feel the fire of his empty eye socket, felt the heat in my own eye," He spoke with nothing short of wonder and reverence for his supposed kin in his speech. "Perhaps one day I will sacrifice my own eye to him and Yggdrasil," It was not the first time Ragnar had considered it and likely wouldn’t be the last, either. He would have given so much more than his eye when it came down to it but he felt that his eye was probably the best case scenario of what he could give that didn’t involve incapacitating himself entirely. What was left of the striking handsome creature he had been before Floki had marked his face with the scars that held semblance to the All-Father was present in the right half of his face but he had long since stopped caring about his own physical beauty. He was a warrior. He would end up maimed sooner or later, despite that it had been beauty he sought in his women (Thistle included). Like any shallow man he was attracted and drawn in by it, held by ferocity and dominance to rival his own. Of course Thistle was much softer and held compassion when he did not, she could be fierce and dominate because he had seen it. She was younger than him and in some ways still innocent but she was strong, reminiscent of the shield maiden she had became. "Let them watch," Ragnar growled huskily in his throat. "Let them realize that compared to me they would be inferior to pleasing you," The Viking pressed his nose to the soft velveteen fur of her neck in turn, sharp teeth raking against the tendrils of fur eagerly, inhaling her womanly scent, mixed with his, earth, her medicines and the children. It was a scent he had came to adore in a similar manner that he adore his fawn colored shield maiden in general. "Thor could strike me dead if he disagrees." The Viking trained hot kisses down her neck to her throat tracing the elegant curve of his with his lips, stilling so he might feel the beat of her heart there.