Stavanger Bay things are changing

Ragnar saw the flash in her eyes of skeptism that it wasn't about Nerian and he dared her with a single, dark look to speak up against him, to defy him. He was tired of fighting with her. About them, about Nerian and contrary to what she seemed to believe not everything was about her or Nerian. His life consisted of things other than his wives and with a slight shake of his head he wondered if Odinn was steering him down the wrong path. He did not want to question the All-Father and yet he was. He hoped that by promoting Thistle she put her wild theories to rest but if she couldn't...well he had already stated what he would do if it was the case. He respected her, yes, but he wasn't going to have her going off and ignoring everything he said or fighting him on everything. If she was to be the Earl then she would have to trust him and respect him as he did her. He tried, for a stretch of a silent moment, to make sense of how him promoting Thistle, trying to look through his fawn colored wives' eyes, would possibly have anything to do with Nerian and came up blank. It didn't concern anyone but the two of them and frankly, Ragnar didn't need anyone's permission.

“You need to have no problems with all of them. Not just most,” He corrected her softly. He had never asked approval of his members only that they respect them because they were his and why did he have to change for someone? Ragnar Lodbrok didn't change for anyone. To change would be to stray from what Odinn had brought him here to do in the first place and disobeying Odinn wasn't an option. Especially considering Ragnar very much wanted to go to Valhalla when he died. He wanted to be worthy of the All-Father and liked being in the God's favor. A favor that he knew was a fickle thing even without the Seer's cryptic words. “I grow tired of taking captives to be honest, I would sooner kill them.” As he had nearly done to their youngest male captive. “The amount of trespassers is becoming ridiculous and I have had enough.” Ragnar spoke simply, without infliction. Their lives meant nothing to him, why did he care if he drained a couple bodies of their life blood? It was of no consequence to him. It was nothing but justice.