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Ragnar's lip lifted in distaste when the boy called him 'lord'. He wasn't lord. He wasn't anyone's lord and to call him such was an insult to his Priestess Wife. It made Ragnar think of her Lord, the one whose name he could not remember but knew that her and her Christian sisters worshiped. "I am not your lord," Ragnar told the boy before him coolly, out of respect for his Priestess Wife. Ragnar had long since accepted that he would have to share Nerian's heart with her God, much in the way his wives had to share him and his heart with Odinn and his Gods. Ragnar would never, he knew, be so pretentious as to accept the title of 'lord' knowing what he did of Nerian's religion. He didn't believe in her God but even so he tried to respect it despite how strange it was to him. "I am no one's lord. I am Jarl," Ragnar didn't mind if they called him 'Jarl' though he only really required it out of the captives.
Ragnar hadn't asked the reason behind the boy's name that was the same as his own son's, and didn't care having already decided that he would not, out of respect for Tyr, pay any mind to what this boy called himself aside from his name. As far as Ragnar was aware or even cared, Tyr had been Ironside first, even Eirikr had taken to calling himself Ironside likely a product from Ragnar's stories about their older brother Tyr, often referring to their eldest brother as Ironside when he would tell the Saga's in Tyr's honor. He missed his stolen son despite that, much like Eirikr's litter they were only children by adoption. Still, Ragnar loved them and respected them. Depsite his beliefs that were likely wrong and born of nothing but favoritism towards his own children, he kept silent on the matter having no intention of getting into a war with this child over a name even if he felt the name belonged to Tyr and not this seemingly pompous stranger.
The boy offered him a pledge of sorts, nothing that all the others hadn't already promised him and felt a slight pang of disappointment. Perhaps he had been hoping that a fellow Northman would be able to think outside of the box. As much as Ragnar considered asking him why he wanted to join this pack when he knew nothing of them, nothing about them or how they operated, considering it was a third sister pack to Odinn's Cove and the Cove ran differently, Ragnar assumed, than other Viking packs, but didn't. He was still weary of the boy, having every intention of putting those boasted of skills to the test as soon as possible, after he returned from seeing his oldest son. Ragnar gave his per usual coy smirk at the boy, not exactly the most friendly expression he was able to give but not his most dangerous, either. "With those skills you boasted of I expect a lot from you and if you fail to live up to your boasts you will be searching for a new home. We all do our parts here even the youngest of us. I have no patience or mercy for those who cannot keep to their word." Of course to Thistle that probably made him see like the biggest hypocrite in the world but he had kept his word: he still loved her, he still wanted her and wanted children by her. Only, she had made a un-tamable man tame for a bit and he had realized that he was not meant to be such. Taming Ragnar was like tearing out everything that made him Ragnar and expecting him to be the same wolf. "I have matters to attend to outside the borders but I am sure Beric and my wife and Queen Thistle will be more than willing to give you a tour." With that Ragnar took his leave. |