a gift from the heavens

*Ragnar* · July 05, 2014, 05:32 PM

For Danni and her @Thistle Cloud also no need to match the length. I was five words away from writing 1000. lol. xD

Ragnar had fallen asleep. Except, he hadn’t even realized he had fallen asleep until his body jerked him awake with a violent lurch that left the scarred Northman glimpsing around him in a state that was neither asleep nor awake but in some sort of purgatory between that border lined severe disorientation. The smooth fur between his eyes along the bridge of his muzzle furrowed with his perplexity as his body shifted ungracefully on the bracken that covered the floor of the ancient forest Stavanger Bay wolves called home, blinking furiously as the leaves and grasses rustled beneath him as he shifted, glimpsing over his shoulder, scarred and unscarred ears twitching as he tried to ascertain where in the ancient forest he had chosen to fall asleep without consciously having made the decision to do so. In the far off distance he could hear the gentle lulling roar of the ocean, closer still he could hear the gentle rushing of one of their fresh water sources. Unconsciously he licked his lip, his tongue feeling like sand paper as it slid over his fur. His mind was sluggish though he was able to at least determine that he wasn’t near the den he shared with his wife and their children since said children were not climbing and clambering all over him. The nights he spent playing sentry to the Bay’s captives he did not allow himself to sleep and tried to fit power naps in between patrolling, tending to governing duties expected of him, back to guarding the prisoners making sure they were doing what the Bay members asked of them, and teaching his children — this also happened to include the Loðbrók’s ward Junior who was eager to become a shield maiden much to the Viking’s immense pride; too easily for Ragnar being loped into ‘his children’ as well which he had a feeling would probably serve to bite him in the ass eventually. For now she was orphaned and she was theirs but for how long? He had tried not to feel affection for the girl but it was proving harder and harder by the day.

Slowly, as his bearings leveled out the scarred Northman rose to his paws, stretched and padded towards the fresh water source he was the nearest too, pausing at the bank to lap eagerly and deeply at the cool rushing waters that whispered over the rocks of the stream bottom. Pebbles of multi-colors, others more earthen in their coloration. It was crisp and sweet and refreshing and he lapped at it as fast as he could without making himself sick. The tight, pressed for time schedule Ragnar was running himself on left too little time for Thistle and him though he did make efforts to spend time with her. Not for the first time did he consider asking her to step up so that they might be able to spend more time with one another as husband and wife but as co-leaders but remembered her words that she didn’t want to lead back when they had first became mates, and he feared that it might take her away from the children and between him and them they were definitely the most important. Ragnar made sure to cut time for each of them individually in a day and if he couldn’t manage individually then he made time for them in a group. Speaking of children, Ragnar thought as his head rose from the water, droplets soaking his chin and dripping free to splash upon his paws; Thistle and him really needed to talk privately about what to do with Junior. She had given a name or rather something resembling of a name Ragnar assumed when he had asked her but she had been too excited by his promise to teach her to be a shield maiden to really go into details and though he had the name ‘Hotguy’ to go off of, which he was skeptical of as it was, it really hadn’t helped him any in solving the mystery of who she belonged too.

His selfish and knee-jerk reaction was to keep her because as far as either of them were aware she was an orphan and Thistle and him were more than capable of taking care of her, of giving her what she needed in life and capable of loving her, too, after all Junior wouldn’t be Ragnar’s first trip around the ‘inherently loving adopted children with your entire being block’. He had been there and done that ~~five~~ four times over now. There was no sense in denying the embers of affection that were beginning to burn and take hold in Ragnar for Junior but he kept trying to kill them because in the face of stark reality until proven or decided otherwise: she wasn’t theirs. She probably had a family out their worried sick about her. Never mind that the Norn’s had decided they would find her probably long before Ragnar himself had even been born (since he’s the eldest of their little growing family) and Odinn himself had brought him to the girl (it was believed by him that Frigg had brought Thistle to Junior) and that she was possibly a gift from the connubial Gods but still. She was healing, well enough to train with him and take part in playing with their children, exploring the Bay freely and partaking in lessons and they needed to discuss something, come to some sort of conclusion even if it was only temporary given if Junior wanted to go back …or if she even had a home to go back too.

Realizing he’d been staring at his blurry reflection in the water he turned his eyes away from it, breaking his wandering train of thoughts before heading out to seek his wife figuring it was better to talk about something when it was at the forefront of his mind then continue putting it off.

Thistle Cloud · July 05, 2014, 08:30 PM

Thistle cloud paced to and fro near the new den site, her heart deep in her throat. Her husband was late he should have been her by now, and she was worried. She knew he slept sometimes in the forest on patrols, because he was working so hard, but he had never been this late. And with the recent influx of stranger wolves at their borders and across them, she worried as most wives were apt to do. Thistle’s ear twitched as she heard the ocean from her view point and she watched and she waited.

Unlike her husband, Thistle had opened her heart to the girl immediately and without consequence. She knew in the end it would hurt if they had to give the girl back, and she knew her husband would continue to try and find the girl’s parents, simply because that was the right thing to do. They would want someone to search for them if one of their children were to go missing and wash up literally at the paws of another wolf. That thought alone froze her blood in her veins. What those parents must be going through? Thistle herself would have been frantic the first day. Now it was what 2 or 3 days since the girl had washed up on the shores.

As she sat and watched and worried, she mused on whether or not he was spreading himself thin. She had told him once before she did not want to lead, that it was not a passion of hers. And she knew he probably took that to heart, and now she wondered if perhaps she had been relatively selfish to say such a thing. He could not do it all alone, though god’s love the man he would try, just to keep her happy. She wondered at it, thinking she would not make a very good leader. She was far too genteel for leadership. She would never be able to punish someone. She shook her head, no that wasn’t necessarily true, if someone were to hurt their children or her husband or even a pack mate, she could maybe probably dole out punishment, it may plague her after, and she would have to be sure the wolf in question really did what they were accused of, before she acted on it.

Thistle had not asked the newest member of their brood anything about her family, guarding her zealously and watching over her while she healed. She had bounced back fairly quickly and she was curious as to where the girl was from, but perhaps again she was being selfish by not asking. She had not wanted to press, but maybe she should, because the girl was starting to quickly adapt, and she did not want to potentially keep the girl from going back to her family. She was so very young and sometimes memories were not always best, and they may get confused, and she did not want that for the poor girl.

She knew her husband would probably want to find her family, but was it so wrong to want her to stay. To add her to their already tiny family, it was not a hardship to take care of another child, she wanted many and of course Ragnar did too. So what was one more added. She sighed, no that wasn’t very kind, here she was thinking of keeping the girl, when her parents were probably heartbroken and grief stricken somewhere hunting for her. She would want someone to give her; her children back not keep them. Perhaps they could keep her and adopt her as one of their own until and if they ever found her family they would then cross that bridge.

*Ragnar* · July 06, 2014, 07:23 AM

His pace was leisurely and relaxed as his paws carried him through the tangles of over grown brush from the years of the ancient forest of Stavanger being unclaimed. He had to duck and squeeze his way through the lower hanging branches of the ash trees, each reminding the Scandinavian of Yggdrasil despite that he imagined that Yggdrasil was measurably bigger than these miniatures and it had to be in theory because it held all of nine realms together, binding them inexplicably to one another. Still, there was a slight rush of excitement every time he came across one, a pricking sensation at the nape of his neck that wasn’t all together unpleasant. He had not forgotten his most recent talk with his wife, about some day sacrificing his eye as Odinn did to see if the tree would bestow that great knowledge upon him as well. In a manner that was understandable and rational to anyone but Ragnar Thistle hadn’t been overly thrilled about the idea though he suspected it was more because he had told her once that he would give much more than his eye to acquire it and that she knew his ambition well. Even Ragnar, himself, could not say where it would stop…where he would be willing to draw the line in pursuit of knowledge. It was the ultimate power, after all. It could best brawn because out smarting your opponent worked just as well as being able to physically take him down.

His pace increased when he caught Thistle’s scent on the wind and was surprised to find her sitting with her back to his approach, and though Ragnar couldn’t be sure what she was doing he assumed that she was waiting for him. It was an unfair judgment to make because there were numerous reasons she could have been staring so intently through the trees and despite his arrogant belief it didn’t always have to do with him. Swiftly the Viking approached his wife, brushing his body along side hers, inclining his muzzle to brush his lips beneath her chin, his tongue smoothing over the velveteen fur he found there before he pulled back slightly. "I was hoping to find you away from the children," The scarred Northman gave her a trademark coy smirk before he fell silent contended to study the lines of her face until the real conversation needed to be made.

Thistle Cloud · July 06, 2014, 07:54 PM

Thistle flicked an ear back when she heard footfalls, but she did not turn, assuming that it was Ragnar coming home. He sidled up next to her and she leaned into his touch, he smelled like himself, but there was an underlying scent of forest wet leaves and open air, she liked that smell. It reminded her of home. She was surprised that he came from behind her rather than from the front of her, she would remember that and sit sideways next time to watch both ways, if she ever found herself waiting on him again, usually it was not so. Today however was a special case she supposed.

She offered him a smile, Yes they are sleeping for now. One thing about them being able to go on ‘ventures as our newest ward puts it they play themselves completely out and sleep usually the whole night through. He hadn’t been staying in the den very much lately, sacrificing more of his time to watch over the captives they had. She did not know how she felt about it yet, she was still going over that thought at the moment. However, like most things she would probably end up accepting it and moving on to more dire things.

Did you need something from me? She asked curious as to what he wanted, not that she minded, she enjoyed the time spent with him. She tilted her head and looked at him, leaning against him slightly, taking the moment to enjoy his presence before he loped off to keep track of the captives Olor and Ollie.

*Ragnar* · July 07, 2014, 07:23 AM

Ragnar felt the moment when Thistle leaned into the touch of his body against hers, felt the subtle shift of weight and the meshing of their starkly colored fur and smirked ever so slightly to himself. There was never a moment when the feral Scandinavian did not desire or revel in the touch of his love. "I think Junior is good for them," She was older than them and Ragnar assumed she could take the stance of someone they could look up to that was relatively close to their own age. It did not fall under his notice that there might be a small struggle for dominance between Junior and Ein given their eldest son’s bossy disposition but Ragnar wasn’t overly worried about it. It was something the two of them would figure out on their own. More so it was something they needed to figure out on their own without the intervention of him or Thistle. It was the foundation blocks of society, dominate and submissive and Ragnar intended to keep out of that if to teach his eldest son that he needed to solve his own problems.

"I believe we need to discuss what to do about Junior," The most obvious choice was return her to her family, of course. It was his knee-jerk reaction beneath the selfish desire of wanting to keep her safe within the Bay. The girl hadn’t been very forthcoming about her parents or where she had came from though in her defense Ragnar realized he probably should not have promised he would give her lessons in being a shield maiden before bringing up that particular subject, and no one had came to their borders looking for a lost puppy yet.

Thistle Cloud · July 07, 2014, 02:34 PM

Thistle chuckled at his comment, she was good for them yes, but she was certain Tveir was going to have a hard attack if the girl continued to try and become the leader. Tveir was a very loyal little boy, it was becoming obvious the older he got. Yes she is, but I believe that there is going to be some struggle at first as they all try and dominate one another. In case you haven’t noticed love our sons are very forthcoming dominate boys. They take after you obviously. She chuckled to herself and gave him a small smile.

Thistle sighed when he said about what they were going to do with Junior. I know this is extremely selfish, but I would love to keep the little girl, at least until we find her family if we do at all. Surely a wolf or two is looking for her right? I mean you and I wouldn’t stop looking for our children for anything. and they wouldn’t Thistle would refuse to stop until she drove herself into the ground if one or more of her children were missing. Has she given any hints as to where she is from at all?

*Ragnar* · July 08, 2014, 07:12 AM

"They are," Ragnar conceded but then a clandestine smirk tugged at the edges of his lips, covert and coy. "But Junior has a couple things going for her. She is older and bigger than them," He started with the most obvious facts first before his voice dropped as if he were about to share a secret with Thistle. "She is a fierce shield maiden in training, though." By skill alone she trumped their younger sons. Ragnar couldn’t help the fierce pride in his voice for a child that was not his (though in his defense none of his children are his by flesh and blood). "Junior has what it takes to be a Viking," Ragnar remarked in a softened voice, unable to deny if asked that he was hoping she did take a semblance of interest in it beyond being a shield maiden. "If her persistence keeps she could become a legendary Shield Maiden someday."

"I’m not going to kick her out of the pack or anything," Thistle hadn’t said it but Ragnar had felt that it had been implied (even if it hadn’t he just assumed). "She will stay here until someone comes to claim her or until she gives me something more to work off of than her mother’s name apparently being ‘Hotguy’." Unless Thistle knew a female wolf by the name of Hotguy because Ragnar certainly didn’t. Ragnar couldn’t help the subtle snicker that left him, "You common tongue speakers give your children strange names." The Nord teased Thistle, despite that she was beginning to better pick up on his native tongue given that their children didn’t seem to be giving her much of a choice. At least as far as Ein was concerned because their eldest boy did not seem to enjoy speaking ‘Common’ unless he had no choice.

"Even if her family does come looking for her, well, she has a choice. She’s old enough to make a decision like that right? Maybe…she’d want to stay with us." He didn’t hold his breath for it though. Why would she choose strangers over her own family if such a choice was ever presented to her? The only way he could figure in that scenario was if she had a bad home life. "I know I should probably send Verrine or go out personally on an Outrider mission to ask the near by packs if they’re missing a child but…—" But I can’t. He couldn’t bring himself to do it even though he knew, more so from his father instincts than his non-existent moral compass, that it was the right thing to do. He didn’t bother finishing it figuring Thistle had caught on.

Thistle Cloud · July 08, 2014, 07:15 PM

Thistle listened and she agreed to an extent, but their boys had more stubborn pride than any pup she had yet to meet, and Tveir was a definite enforcer whereas Ein he was a very good master mind. He puzzled things out and then acted. It was fun to watch their personalities change as time went on. Gyda was still fairly quiet and not much of an attention seeker. that is true, but they are both pride fully stubborn and together I think they could be a very good tag team…Tveir an enforcer and Ein he tends to think first act later…. She was incredibly proud of their sons and they way they were developing, but it also worried her that they would become a bit much to handle as they aged. Thistle chuckled at his next words, You are going to have a pack of shield maidens if you are not careful my love. She chuckled again to herself, wondering how that would go, the men being overrun by strong independent females.

Thistle laid her ears back I didn’t think you would kick her out Ragnar. Frankly when it comes to children you are a softy just admit it. She allowed a small smile to play on her lips, she tilted her head back to look up at his countenance and she gave him a small lick across the muzzle and a gentle nuzzle as well. She enjoying teasing him so. Thistle wrinkled her brow at the name that her husband repeated Hot guy. Who on earth would name their child hot guy? And a female to boot. she snorted softly, wondering what on earth that parent was thinking, she pretended to growl at him we do not. Do not even get me started on Norse pride if you want to go there. she teased him back gently a chuckle working its way up from deep down. She probably vibrated his side with the force of it.

Thistle turned into her husband’s side and spoke softly Maybe you could, but I do not know if you will have the time dear heart, we have our own children and the pack is newly forming still, and besides that Julooke is going to go into heat any day now, I am sure that Verrine will want to stay close to her, so she is not taken advantage of by anyone else. She knew that would probably be a sore subject with her husband, but it was the truth. She could not see Verrine wanting to go far

*Ragnar* · (This post was last modified: July 09, 2014, 06:30 AM by Ragnar.)

"I just hope they do not end up like me and my brothers," Though the best thing the two boys probably had going for them was they were not of his blood. Ambition seemed to run in the Eitrisson genetics but more strongly in the Loðbrók for those genes were directly associated with Ragnar himself since ‘Loðbrók’ was an earned surname (since technically Norse men didn’t have true last names they were just: Ragnarsson, Flokisson, etc). "Björn killed our father for the title of Jarl, and I killed him for —" A woman. A woman that he had lost all interest in once he didn’t have the fun of forbidden fruit and the chase anymore. He had also challenged Björn to single combat as revenge for their father, too, but it had not been his driving force. "— well I killed him. And Váli…he couldn’t kill me even if he tried for a thousand years but he would have tried." Ragnar didn’t want to see his sons — any of them — grow up to be like that. The idea of having a pack of shield maidens made the Jarl smirk as he considered it. "I’m not seeing the down side to that." Women could fight just as fiercely as any man and he knew from fighting along side them in raids.

Ragnar snorted softly when Thistle tried to get him to admit that he was ‘soft’ because it wasn’t necessarily true. There wasn’t much of Ragnar that anyone would call soft, least of all in personality. He liked children and happened to be a father which seemed to translate into other children though that was not surprising given that every living child he called ‘his’ was actually adopted by him. He didn’t answer her but made a small noise of pleasure in his throat when she gave him a quick lick to his muzzle and nuzzled against him for a moment before their conversation switched to the enigmatic and potentially made up as far as Ragnar was concerned Hotguy. "That is a weak argument," Ragnar snorted with indignation. "We do not name our children strange things. They only sound strange because you were not raised in our culture with our language." No matter what she followed up with she wasn’t going to get him to budge on that. He was too confident that he was right to be willing to listen to anything else.

"I know," Ragnar sighed, not really having needed the reminder that he had too many things to do and to go out on an Outrider mission to find out if any of the other packs were missing a child was not on the top of his priority list. "They’ll probably think we kidnapped her though if we keep putting it off." It wasn’t so much that he cared what other packs thought of him, and to be frank he had stolen wolves, many times of various ages but never young children like Junior. "Julooke wouldn’t let a man other than Verrine touch her. And if they do I will rip them apart personally." First, because he had only given permission to Verrine and Julooke to breed and secondly because though his ilk was big on the idea of rape (and he had never made moves to ever stop them admittedly) he wasn’t going to tolerate it here considering most of the pack did not belong to his culture and therefore it wasn’t ok.

Thistle Cloud · July 09, 2014, 10:56 AM

Thistle looked at her husband and spoke softly, if they get your good qualities dear heart it will not be so bad if they turn out like you. Thistle believe that even if you were not blood if you were around another for long enough, you gathered some of their qualities. For instance both their boys were highly ambitious, Ein more so, granted yes it was just for dominance at the moment, but it was enough of a tell.

Thistle shot her husband a smile at his snort. She knew he wasn’t soft, but when it came to children, the man gave in more often than not, and he really did. Yes he could be harsh, and he was a little bit stricter than she, but he would never hurt a child, never allow another to hurt a child, and he would accept any and all children into their fold, simply because they were a child. Thistle snorted back at him and his argument; he was not as strong either. She shook her head and laughed.

Thistle felt his frustration and spoke softly Let us not do anything for a little bit, until Julooke’s cycle is up and you are not as busy and then maybe the two of you males can go, and if you cannot, here soon I’ll be able to move about more and I can go, maybe take one of the boys, and I am sure Surra would go with me if I asked, he is nice or even Julook if they are not far along in pregnancy or if they have decided not to this year. Thistle’s ear’s slicked back No she wouldn’t but frankly darling men are stronger than us, no matter how much we do not wish to admit it they are, and Ragnar you may not have the chance to even get a hold of a male if I happen to find out about it, I will quite literally rip them limb from limb. We shouldn't have to worry about that though all of our pack mates are honorable thus far. Her expression was fierce she had no time for such blatant horrible things, and she would probably rip into a male if they even looked at Julooke crooked, simply because she was her friend.

*Ragnar* · (This post was last modified: July 09, 2014, 11:42 AM by Ragnar.)

I'm not sure what happened here but lol, ok mister grumpy pants. xP

Ragnar didn’t see what particularly good qualities Thistle was referring too. The way his wolves put him up on a pedestal was …troubling to Ragnar. Of course he could not control how they felt about him, and though their respect was appreciated by the Jarl he was left with the uneasy feeling that they were painting him in good lights that he did not deserve to be painted in. It wasn’t that he was trying to be the modest hero, even, he was simply realistic. He was glad that the wolves that followed him liked him but at the same time he didn’t want them to be disappointed when they realized that he hadn’t been trying to be modest all along. He raided. He killed. He took slave and captives. He sacrificed not just prey but also wolves; and he did it all without batting an eye of regret. Of course none of these things were wrong to Ragnar who had grown up knowing no different but to those who did not share in his views he knew it was wrong. He stared stoically away from Thistle, knowing that he did not want his children to be like him at all, not even the adopted ones. Ambition was well and fine in moderation but if left unchecked, if gone to the level of Ragnar’s own …it lost it’s goodness. It became unmoral (if it had ever been that to begin with). It had led him to kill his own brother for a woman, among other things. "‘It means they will be just like you, therefore they will strive to do better than you and you will hate them for it’. Floki told me that once in regards to my sons. Ambition is good in moderation but it is a sickness if left unchecked. It is not good." He knew and he just needed her to see that. It led to jealousy and possessiveness and the will to kill his own blood to get what he wanted. Why should the ambition of his sons be any different? She had said it herself where did he draw the line? His honest answer was: he didn't. His ambition had no end, only the beginning.

He caught her smile out the corner of his eye but was in no mood to return it, not even with a coy smirk; in truth he couldn’t really say he had never killed a child. That he would never. There were exceptions: there were always exceptions. Ragnar had killed an infant cougar as a sacrifice to Odinn and would have done it again without a second thought. He would kill Majesty’s offspring in a heart beat, too, if he ever got the chance. Sins of the father and all that.

His scarred ear twitched back to her but his expression didn’t change and he still was contended to stare coolly at the ash tree, imagining Yggdrasil and Odinn’s eye if only because it distracted those truthful and ugly thoughts. "I will go." He left no room for discussion about it because it wasn’t a negotiation and his mood was that of a gathering tempest. In fact he had an itching to fight something because he needed to let out his pent up frustration and he needed to let his anger out on something. Anger that his sons would be like him. Anger at those who had been stupid enough to trespass. Anger that she thought he was a good man when he had told her, over and over, that he wasn’t. He was a savage. He was a Viking and all the implications that word entailed. He was not some shiny knighted King. "The males would be wise to keep themselves in check. Besides the permission I give to a couple who seek me for it I am the only one allowed to breed freely." And now, the Jarl wondered if Pump didn’t have the right idea of killing bastards. If Odinn’s Cove had done it then Dagrun wouldn’t have taken the beating he took growing up.

He was angry and moody and he knew it. Knew that it was why he was thinking and feeling the way he felt.

Thistle Cloud · July 09, 2014, 12:11 PM

[size=x-small]Hopefully this does not cause a divorce lol....[/size]

Thistle stared at him and then she got angry and she spoke sharper than she meant too. She was tired of him constantly shooting down anytime she had anything nice to say unless it was about his looks; nothing else she could say was good. He got all up in arms about it and started correcting her like a child. Yes she was young, yes she was younger than him, but she was not a child. Ragnar Loðbrók you listen to me and you listen good you stubborn, heathen feral man right now. I can tell you are getting irritated and clearly it bothers you that I say nice things about you as do many others. However, I know very well that you are savage and mean and possessive and jealous and angry and temperamental and that you have killed for nothing more than a small dalliance in a quiet forest. I know this and you know what I accept it, when I say something good about you I would appreciate it if you didn’t shoot it down every time. Because frankly husband whether you want to admit it or not you do have some redeeming qualities that you make up for all those terrible ones you have. I am not a fool, and I am not some star struck lover, I know you are scary and I know I should fear you sometimes. And I know you have no off switch for your ambition, but I would like to hope that perhaps our son’s have just enough of me in them, that they aren’t like that, and you know what Ragnar if they do turn out like you, they could do much worse. They could be mindless killers or rapists or something much worse. They could torture just because they get their rocks off doing so, so I think you need to get your head out of your ass and stop demeaning yourself because you think you are this terrible wolf and you don’t like anyone to think any good thoughts. Ragnar frankly you could be the meanest, nastiest jarl around and your followers would still find something they like about you, it comes with power so get over it.

She had moved while she ranted to stand in front of him, her smaller body tense and her expression fierce. He was fast becoming a ticking time bomb, and she felt like poking the bear. He needed to not bottle stuff up so much, it was not good. Eventually it would spill over and he’d kill someone or hurt someone for something small and silly. And if he went after her, well she’d give it right back. She tilted her head and glared at him, waiting for him to yell or walk away, and if he did it would hurt, but well she was not some shy little girl that just sat around and took her lumps and let him go unchecked. Every once in a while he needed a reality check and she’d be the one to give it to him, after all it was her right as his wife. Though she wondered if maybe this time she had pushed too far.

*Ragnar* · (This post was last modified: July 09, 2014, 01:08 PM by Ragnar.)

I was reminded of that video I showed you before of Ragnar and Lagertha fighting with one another where he pins her down and thinks he's won and then she pulls his hair and kicks him and grabs an axe and goes after him with it (I think Katheryn accidentally got Travis in the finger with it though because he pulls his hand back quick and shakes it like he got cut by it, ahah. It looked too real to be acting. :P)

Teeth bared as his head whipped towards her when she laid into him; it was not in the literal sense but it still infuriated him, nevertheless. Hackles bristled like spines along the curve of his neck, as she spouted off about his redeeming qualities and how he should accept them. She wasn’t getting it and she seemed to be contradicting herself, as far as he was able to see, when she spoke of what their sons could become while basically naming off what he and his ilk, essentially, were. Killing his own brother in cold blood because he wanted his wife was mindless killing and though Ragnar himself had never partaken in raping the other Berserkers had. Just because he had his own opinions and his own mind didn’t make him better than them. It just made him insignificantly different. "I killed my brother for a woman who I lost interest in the second she became mine and you do not see that as mindless killing?" He laughed harshly the gesture devoid of mirth. He was angry and Thistle was only provoking the tempest, pulling it closer to shore. Later, when he had exerted all the pent up irritation and frustration and horror that his sons would be just like him he would feel bad about this and make it up to her in the only way he knew how …if she let him.

If he didn’t love her and didn’t care he wouldn’t be arguing with her about it. He would have let it go. And maybe he was just looking to pick a fight because dammit he needed this. The last time he had fought anything had been the bear and that had been a long time ago. He was a Berserker and having him go so long without fighting was bad for him.

"You’re not understanding. Everything you just said they could become they will. Eventually. My brethren kill and rape and torture. I have tortured," The Blood Eagle ritual, specifically, came to his mind. "I have stood before a man and tore apart the skin at his back and I broke his ribs off with my teeth and then pulled his lungs out and laid them upon him to resemble the folded wings of a great eagle." Execution in the form of torture. In a way his body had looked reminiscent of Pump’s except Ragnar had not severed the spine. He realized he had wanted their sons to become Vikings and he didn’t regret it but he did not want his sons to harbor his ambition and saying they would, like it was something to be encouraged, only served to irritate him. Their ambition could lead them to kill him someday, or her. Or each other. It wasn’t cute. It was dangerous and if he instilled nothing else in them he would make them realize the price of ambition. "It is the truth!" Demeaning himself would mean that he was something more than he was, something he wasn’t. It couldn’t be demeaning if it was only the cold, harsh and unforgiving truth.

He wasn’t in the mood to be flattered with compliments, not with Floki’s words haunting him and not on his lack of sleep. "Do you even understand how I worry everyday that they are making me into something I am not? That they think I have changed? I haven’t. I won’t. I will raid again. I will torture. I will kill." He did not want them to lose their respect for him because they had misgivings though Ragnar was careful to always be honest about himself and his past, of where he came from with them. "It is all I know." It wasn’t that Ragnar wasn’t good with power, nor that he couldn’t handle the ramifications that came along with it. It was that he couldn’t handle barely any sleep and the lengthy time between battles. Even as the Jarl of the Cove he had fought and raided on a consistent basis. Unable to do either he felt like a caged animal and unfortunately, Thistle was in the cross hairs of his disposition because she had spoken of their sons being like him.

Because they would be better than him. They would do better than him. And he would hate them for it, just as Floki had said.

Thistle Cloud · July 09, 2014, 02:23 PM

He turned towards her like a snake to strike his hackles raised and a ferocious growl, but she didn’t even blink. Not right now and not ever, she was far used to his temper at this point, and she had one to rival his own and he knew it too. She returned the growl and her own hackles rose. Don’t you growl at me you behemoth of a Viking! You stubborn infuriating man She snarled and her tail whipped from side to side, she was furious and his own fury egged her on.

She looked him dead in the eye and spoke with ice and fire whirling about her words No Ragnar I don’t see it as a mindless killing because it was for lust, that isn’t mindless. Mindless is someone who just kills to kill just because they can not because they want some fresh piece of tail, or because a king killed his own father or what have you. Those are all not mindless, those all have a reason to them, given they are terrible horrible reasons, but reasons just the same.

UGH! Thistle thumped her front feet to the ground, wanting to just attack him with all she had, but knowing it would not end well for her with the mood he was in, he was much to large for her to take down herself, when his irritation was also fury filled. She stared at him Why did you do it hmm just because you could? Then that is terrible, but you probably had a reason. Perhaps he betrayed you and your brethren? Or maybe he killed a king, who really gives a care, you had a reason. And what makes you think our children will do that if you don’t rape? Or kill without a reason, even misguided ones, reason for your own pack to survive by either running out the others or by taking their food and their mates and their families! Fine Ragnar it’s the truth. I’m done with this whole argument I’ve had enough. Go cool off. Get some damn sleep.She gave him another snarl, baring her pearly whites and her blue eyes snapping with an internal fire daring him to even step a foot closer she’d bite the closest thing to her.

She turned on heel and began to walk away, far to infuriated to be able to even speak coherently let alone speak about something they clearly had differing opinions about.

*Ragnar* · July 10, 2014, 06:26 AM

I'll have this archived. :-)

She growled at him and there was a frightening moment as his muscles tightened that Ragnar was fairly sure he was going to attack her. Made even more real by the zeroing on a specific location of her body that was optimal for sinking his teeth into. Thistle might have been fierce but Ragnar was confident he could do more than his fair share of damage to her. He was realistically larger than her, stronger and he had been raised to fight and kill. While he realized that often times the lines were blurred in their private presence of one another he was her alpha and his ears stood erect as his tail rose over his back bearing down at her desiring her submission. "I did not growl at you," Ragnar had bared his teeth in warning but he had not made any noise. It had been her to initiate the first growl. "but I can if you’d like." Because growling at her was the least harmful he wanted to do at that moment. Ragnar bristled when she looked him dead in the eye because right now he wasn’t feeling very husband-y. He was feeling like he was the Jarl and she was his subordinate treating him like a child. "Don’t look me in the eye unless you plan on fighting me to the death," He warned her lowly, "or did you forget dear wife that I am your Jarl too?" He asked her coyly though it was hardly the playful and teasing manner she was used to him taking with her.

He even, in the next moment, considered demoting her for her blatant insubordination towards him. She was his wife but she was not yet his equal in title and it bothered him that she talked to him so brazenly when he was not in any sort of mood to find the humor in it. Today, it did not turn him on. Today, it only made his stormy disposition measurably worse. He restrained himself from forcing her into submission, restrained himself from attacking her because even in the pinnacle of his dark, treacherous mood he knew he would regret it and that if he did she would never let him forget it, either; she was pushing all of his buttons with a vigor that border lined unhealthy and he felt like whatever strand of sanity he was holding onto was about to snap completely. He took a shuddering breath, feeling the familiar wave of adrenaline surge through his veins cooling the heated fire of his ire in his veins and feared that he had finally made it to the point where he didn’t need the mushrooms to go into a Berserker rage. If he allowed it to happen, here and now, the ramifications would be monstrous — not to mention he was unsure if it would fade off. What if it didn’t?

He turned from her viciously, his movements sharp because he couldn’t look at her, not on the verge of the Berserker rage building up like some horrifying crescendo within him. Ragnar had heard stories of great warriors being able to call the bloodlust to them whenever they wanted but he wasn’t ready for that kind of ability and didn’t want to deal with the ramifications that would surely come with it, uncontrolled as it would be at first. Her words were lost on him as he stood blocking her out, his sides heaving with each pant as he tried to keep everything at bay. He did not want to hurt her, he did not want to hurt her. Because she was the mother of his children, the mother of his future children. Because he loved her. When Ragnar heard her stomp away he wasted no time launching himself out of that clearing, away from the den and away from her, scrambling for Sköll knowing the boy was familiar with things like this and would be able to give him something to calm him down and if Ragnar was lucky: to sleep.