Hearing Tveir giggle at his teasing released some of the tension that had been pulling tightly within the contours of the Vikings' chest. It did not completely release the worry that gnawed at Ragnar like a festering and infected wound, but it allowed him, for the moment, to set those aside in favor of enjoying the alone time with his son. He loved his children, he truly did, but he was still learning — just like them. He was learning how to communicate that love, but it was no easy feat for the harbinger of death. He did not know how to display emotions like those, had always been bad at it. Even with Tyrr. Tveir's tail wagged and his whole butt joined in the motion, causing a soft chuckle to rumble from Ragnar's lips.
It's ok, Tveir. Ein and Gyda's ears are too big for them, too, Despite that he had only been teasing Ragnar felt the need to assure the boy that he was not the only one suffering the awkward stages of puberty.
Do not be sorry, Tveir, I was merely asking, Ragnar attempted to reassure his son. They were three months old, going on four except when Ragnar looked at them he still saw the helpless little newborns, fur wet with the secretions from the sacks they'd been born in and with the saliva of Thistle as she had bathed them, cleaning them of blood and willing them to draw their first breath.
Perhaps Ragnar would always see that when he looked at them. They were his babies. Always would be and he did not want to admit that someday they would grow up and would no longer need him to protect them. It was the cycle of life, of course. It had happened to Eitri when Ragnar had grown old enough.
A soft, sorrowful sigh left the Viking's lips as he thought of his father, in Valhalla, and the wish that he had Eitri here, for advice; because Ragnar could have used his father's wisdom on many things.
Focus on one at a time, Tveir, Ragnar advised his second born. Even earning one apprenticeship will help out the pack immensely. We do not have any warriors ...but I was once a great Berserker and if you would let me I will teach you all I know. Ragnar offered to his son, convincing himself that if Tveir did not accept that it probably wasn't a bad thing. The Berserker mushrooms were not something that children should be consuming, and though the Jarl did not realize it truly did not have nasty side effects. He did not understand that his visions of Odinn were only illusions that his mind, messed with the years of consuming the drug that he relied upon in battle, that the deranged fevers, too, were repercussions from the consumption of it.
