Stavanger Bay flying to the stars

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Ragnar watched with subdued satisfaction as the captive lowered himself into a submissive pose before him. It was not the most submissive he could have went, not nearly as submissive as Claire had been, exposing her stomach to him but it was good enough. For now. "I am not Sir," Ragnar told the captive stiffly, partially toying with him. Ragnar was clever and sometimes he liked to play with his food before he ate it so to speak. He was curious about how this man worked and what it would take to push him, disliking him still for disrespecting Thistle and not trusting the way in that he suddenly changed his tone when he came face to face with the Viking. That wasn't how this pack worked and Ragnar intended to make Kryillos understand that, no matter the cost. "I am Ragnar," If Ragnar had it his own way he would have taught all of them old Norse, but knew that it would be impossible and so he kept his title as Jarl to make him feel close to his birth home. "But you will address me as Jarl." He finished simply, gaze unwavering from the man. "I have been thinking about your punishment for disrespecting my Queen Wife," Ragnar began, canting his head in a bird-like, curious manner, a mischievous smirk tugging at the edges of his lips as per usual for him. "What do you think your punishment should be?" He had no intentions of letting on what he'd had in mind, desiring to ask Thistle's opinion on it before he went through with it, unless of course Kryillos came up with a better idea. In a way, Ragnar supposed he was making Kryillos tie his own noose.