Betrayal. One of the most absolute things he refused to forgive for. It came in all shapes and sizes, in all manners of ways. It always seemed to come when he was least expecting it. In much of a sense it was, in Ragnar’s reality, his fault. His fault because he had let himself get too comfortable in these posh summer lands. He had taken the hybrid’s words upon honor alone though she was no Viking and her honor could not be counted upon in the same way. This, he realized as he stormed to and fro in a manner that could have been considered an aggressive pacing, had been his own stupidity. He had worked tirelessly to prove himself to not only her but to the others as well, a willing participant in the contribution of her pack despite that it had been borne of his selfish desire to gain himself the title as her Second in Command. He had grown to respect Pump and even, in his own way, liked her. At the moment, his grievances didn’t even concern the Beta rank, though he supposed it played a small part, but instead how Pump had done little in his opinion about the way the female at their borders had spoken to him as if her sarcasm and lack of respect was no small matter.
It might not have mattered to Pump but it certainly mattered to him.
It was the source of his rage now, no longer hidden behind mischievous smirks and loaded looks but let out of his body in a rush of heat as if it were a living thing coiling from the silken tendrils of his platinum silver fur. Ragnar didn’t care if the new recruits were frightened of him or not - most of them were intimidated by him of their own accord anyway - but the allowance of that kind of behavior to a superior festered like an open and infected wound beneath Ragnar’s skin. Not to mention the female’s brazen audacity to throw Thistle in his face in an indirect threat, at that. As if she held any sort of power and yet Pump had seemed allow it, made it sound to the Viking like she was even standing up for the female despite that she had told the girl to stop insulting him. It was not enough for him. He was her warden, and he had trusted her, trusted her with the life of his mate and children during the meeting (though at that point no one but Thistle and himself had been aware of their mateship). Ragnar had trusted Pump and she had seemed to have so willingly - for a wolf she did not know, whom Ragnar did not trust (and he swore if she stepped a toe towards his mate he would rip her spine from her back) - stabbed him in the back.
It was a costly mistake, because he was a more dangerous enemy than he was a friend, and her betrayal stung like the deep lash of a whip across his back, never giving him peace from it. She had stuck up for him but she hadn't attempted to stop the female the first couple of times she had talked down to Ragnar and the Viking was having a hard time letting that go.
She approached him and spoke softly, Ragnar what on earth is wrong? She stood near him in his direct line of vision but she did not touch him or try and stand in his way as she knew he may want to be alone. Her blue eyes studied him his raised hackles his angry eyes, there were no petty smirks or angry looks but straight fury.
Ragnar fumed in his contemplative silence, pacing too and fro like a caged animal, beating a path in the dirt and trampling the grasses as each step a stomp within a marching like rhythm like an army about to slaughter and destroy. Maybe he was the savage one of them, the feral one, ruthless, selfish and a heathen to his core but at least he could claim that his respect and trust was genuine, that he did not go back on promises he made, that he swore with the specific purpose of Odinn hearing. So caught up was the Viking that he did not even notice Thistle, Caribbean blue eyes fierce and furious trained upon the scar he was leaving upon the earth with his relentless pacing that was not doing the job it was supposed to be doing. His rage still ravaged through him as if it were created by Thor himself, reminiscent of the drug induced rages he had used to put himself into as a Berserker back in Odinn’s Cove (that he was sure if Thistle knew of would likely give her a heart attack given her vast medical and poison knowledge). As Thistle moved into his direct line of vision, he caught only her sandy toes in his peripheral vision it was then that the Viking ceased his rapid pacing and lifted his head to focus his stormy (and perhaps even hurt) gaze upon his wife, for a moment letting her familiarity wash over him, letting the roundness of her sides caution him that she should not be dealing with this kind of stress, that it wasn’t good for her and the babes she carried.
The bear-like Viking moved in silence with purpose towards her, drawing his tongue across the underside of his wife’s chin in greeting with the intention of ignoring her question for the moment, before he moved brushing his muzzle against her rounding sides, the product of their coupling (not really) having decided that he no longer cared if her one night tryst’s seed was the one that took (it did) because to him they were theirs, they were his children because his wife’s Crete had long ago given up any rights to being their father. “I will make this right,” He whispered to the children within her womb, before he pulled back some putting distance between Thistle and himself. “You should go back to the den and rest, I do not wish to stress you with this.” Because if she became to stressed and lost the children he would never forgive himself.
Thistle nuzzled his face as he licked her and she smiled as he touched her sides and spoke to the little ones growing there. "Ragnar it will stress me more to know you are upset, I promise that I will take some herbs to settle myself if I get stressed herbs that are perfectly healthy when pregnant. She added the last part so as to not upset him further. She sat down stubbornly and refused to move. "now I can sit here all day Ragnar and watch you pace or you can tell me what's wrong? She tilted her head allowing her blue eyes to roam over the plains of his face.
Thistle, Ragnar had come to learn in the month or so he had come to know her, was nothing if not persistent and, equally stubborn. It was endearing, infuriating and admirable all in one awkward package until Ragnar was left grasping at which one he thought it was the most only to come up with no real answer. She was young - having just reached her sexual maturity something she had told him previously allowing him to conclude that she was only just two years of age at most - younger than him, an in this still in certain ways innocent and perhaps even naïve. She was intelligent of that he wasn’t going to dispute but he felt the urge to shield her and protect her from the world …and himself. It was as he locked gazes with her, icy oceanic meeting the azure blue of her irises that he wondered if he had done the right thing by their coupling, by their mateship, by allowing his affection for her to grow until he had begun to fall in love with her. Love. Something he had thought he was incapable of but the deep rooted knowledge that for whatever it was worth he was falling in love with her contradicted that once belief starkly. Ragnar did not hold a belief that things were about to all magically work out unless Odinn willed it so. Perhaps Ragnar had mistook Pump’s words to the stranger to be betrayal, had too immediately been hurt by the appeared evidence that Pump would overlook an actual, driven and contributing member of her pack in favor of some smart mouthed, disrespectful, stranger of a little girl full of contradictions. Perhaps, he allowed, that was the case - that he had merely misunderstood. Odinn did not will things to be easy for his favorite.
Likely, if Odinn did not take pity upon him, Ragnar would find himself in the midst of a storm of trouble. If this was so, as Ragnar had a horrible suspicion of, Thistle and their unborn babes would be drug into the middle of it, likely by association alone, but of course knowing how Thistle was - it was infuriating he decided in the instance of the scenario in his head - she would not stay if Pump decided to throw him out, even though she had too. Ragnar could not fathom that any other pack would accept a pregnant female, nor her pups. If…it came to that. The Viking did not even crack a smile at her stubbornness as he might have otherwise. He was in no gaming mood. “Things transpired this morning along the borders,” He began to tell her, his voice soft and calm - a sharp contradiction to the fury that pulsed off of him - the lack of fury in his voice working to make his words carry more weight and power. “I was a fool. She is not a Viking, she does not have to live up to her word or honor,” Scarred face twisted into an ugly scowl as if the words left a bad taste in his mouth.
“I accosted a stranger at the borders who offered me nothing but disrespect, arrogance and sarcasm, who threw you in my face saying that if she wasn’t accepted there would be one less wolf between teeth and your throat - of which I took to be an indirect threat to you. Pump witnessed how she spoke to me, disrespectful as if she had any right when I would be superior to her in rank if she was allowed in the pack. Admittedly, I was not very generous in my own respect towards her but she did not and does not deserve it. Pump said nothing to her about how she spoke to me at first, seeming to turn a deaf ear to it, even seeming to encourage her behavior for a moment,” Black, leathery nostrils flared as his chest rose and fell in a rapid breath - the only indication that he was still, very much, livid with rage though his voice gave no indication. “It felt like Pump stabbed me in the back, favoring the disrespectful mær,” He spat the word like it was venom, “over me even though she asked her to stop insulting me.”
“I have done everything she has asked of me. I trusted her. It shouldn't have been let go so long.” But that was a broken thing now, and Ragnar was not sure it could be repaired. "She did call me her friend but...I cannot overlook that and the fact that the girl is probably one of ours now. I do not trust her, neither do I like her. I am her superior and she will do well to remember that." Of course if things went as bad as he feared he might not have to worry about it.
Thistle could tell that he was angry when he didn't even allow a smirk to grace his mouth at her stubborness, something that usually made him laugh. Though she did not need his smirk, it did however allow her to realize that he was much more furious and hurt than she had originally thought and it made her wary. She loved her husband she did and she trusted him with her life, but she did not adhere to him lightly. She was very aware of his wrathful angry nature at times and she knew that if he were to really become angry she could do nothing to stop him. However, just as she knew this she also knew that she complemented his rough edges and made him a little more softer so to speak. Who does not have to live up to their word dear heart? She was hoping to alleviate at least a little of his anger.
Thistle cloud listened and though she was only hearing one part of the story she felt she had to agree. When coming to borders it was commonplace to show submission and respect to those at the borders, it was only the way of things. She would have herself expected to have respect shown her if she had been the one to meet the girl to border. Though in the girls defense her husband could be very abrasive at times, though usually he tried to be fair at the borders that much she knew. She frowned as she contemplated what to say to that, "Well Ragnar that was not right surely. Did the girl at least show the proper respect to Pump? Isn't it commonplace to submit at the borders? She had only been a pack wolf for a month or so, therefore she wanted to check before she said anything else.
She knew the last part he had said was wherein lied the rub. Her husband did not trust easily and for him to have trust and then someone to break it, well it was a direct hit to him and she could not really blame him for being angry, but most did not know him as she did, they would not understand how deeply his beliefs affected everything including his trust and for him to give it to you well it was a grand thing. Therein, pump was in the way in the wrong, but she may very well not even know that she had offended him not knowing his belief system. Ragnar she may not even realize she broke your trust, not many know your belief system or your trust has to be earned and is hardly given. Perhaps we should hear why Pump did what she did? Not that I agree with her, I think the girl should have shown submission as well as that is what i was taught and you are higher ranking than she would be. She nuzzled him gently in the shoulder
From her point of view - she had done nothing wrong. Now with Thistle on maternity leave, Kennedy weak and unwilling to co-operate, they needed strong wolves to deal with their bear problem. The young grizzli, who inhabited the Ravensblood forest and who had been the sole reason, why they had decided not to stay there and rather claim territories to the North of the ridge, was wandering dangerously close to their borders. Accepting an able-bodied and experienced wolf in the pack was the wise thing to do.
But not all agreed with that and it was made clear, when she neared the place, where Thistle and Ragnar shared a den. She could hear angry and agitated voices from afar and to her surprise found out that they were talking about her. The white beast seemed to be very furious and spat out words she didn't think she deserved. Pump did not let this affect her calm demeanor though. She entered the scene saying: "I guess that the back-stabbing evil bitch you are talking about is me?" The alpha looked from Thistle to Ragnar and then back to the girl. "It's nice to see you Thistle!" she greeted her in a kind manner. "And you too Ragnar - I believe, we have an unsettled business... I am here to hear you out and deal with it," she sat down.
Thistle’s words mirrored Ragnar’s own alternate thoughts: that maybe he had misunderstood in his irritation and the new girl’s lack of respect towards him despite that he was the superior in that situation. He had already had a place within the pack, and she was the one who was there looking for a home. Ragnar’s point was that she was asking a favor of him, indirect as it was, and sarcasm and disrespect would gain her no friends with the Viking. Ragnar would undoubtly make the girl’s life a living hell until she realized that he was her superior and he should be treated like such. He would push her to her boundries and then past it until he broke her. It was a cruel way of settling his problems and while Ragnar could be a diplomat he was also ruthless. Clever enough to be both without letting on that he was about to pull the rug out from under another.
Pump appeared, a black smudge approaching the couple, calling herself a ‘backstabbing evil bitch’, and for a moment Ragnar merely stared at her. Seeing her, and watching the way she handled walking into their conversation made him realize that he still respected her even if his trust was a shattered thing that wanted to mend but could not by his own deigns. “I did not call you evil or a bitch,” He told her after his moments pause, because even though he felt like she had in a sense backstabbed him (not to mention his discontent upon her decisions regarding his and Thistle’s pups) he did not hate her. Did not even, dislike her, neither did he think she was evil. In a way, he understood her harsh views on things because they reminded him of his own, ruthless ways.
“I don’t hate you Pump,” He started with slowly as he gathered his thoughts and attempted to shoo his anger at her, and frankly at the entire trangression away. “I still respect you but I don’t agree with the ease in which you left Diluculo join the ranks, especially after she disrespected me from the get-go,” He was frustrated and even so still hurt. “I feel that it should not have gotten as far as it did before you reprimanded her for it. I am your Warden and until you arrive I am the superior when greeting wolves at the borders. I do not know where she comes from but to disrespect a Warden isn’t accepted where I come from. In fact she would have likely been killed, but it doesn’t matter because this isn’t Odinn’s Cove, I know that.” He took a deep breath then. “I feel like in a way you betrayed me, that you didn’t have my back until it got too ridiculous,” Ragnar told her calmly before adding with a leveled look. “For as long as my rank is above hers I will not accept her talking down to me as if she has any right. The domiance of our hierarchy is clear. Even Thistle and I are not true equals.” He warned Pump because he took the hierarchy seriously.
And if they were going to play fast and loose with it he would leave and start his own pack.
“I know you did speak up for me and I appriciate that but it should not have gotten that far.” And with that the Viking fell silent, waiting for Thistle, or Pump - or whomever intended to speak at that point - to speak up.
She tilted her head nad offered the alpha a smile, Hello Pump. How are you today? She dipped her head and she moved closer to Ragnar to offer silent report though he didn't need it he was a strong individual. She chose to not say anything more after that, but to simply sit and wait to see how the conversation would go.
Oh, but you thought about it... Pump commented Ragnar's words in her mind and in the meantime accepted Thistle's greeting with a silent nod. She didn't care if someone insulted her behind her back or spat nasty words in her face. The wolf-dog had enough self-confidence to know her worth and nothing could make her doubt it. A person couldn't be defined by anyone but him-/herself after all. It was nice to know that after whatever had transpired earlier Ragnar didn't hate her, even though she wouldn't mind that either as long as he would keep doing the good job and remain loyal to the rest of the folk here.
"You have got a valid point, Ragnar," she said, "and I will keep that in mind next time." She didn't say she was sorry, because according to her own views she had still done things the right way, even if she had hurt somebody's feelings in the process. However, she understood, how all of this had looked from his point of view and why he was angry with her. "I had to keep the bigger picture in mind, though," she went on. "We have got a bear problem - Thistle knows our dear friend in the neighboring lands and in order to deal with it we need the most strongest and toughest of our kind." Thistle due to her state was out of question, as well as Kennedy. That left them with three wolves and one more couldn't hurt.
"Besides we will soon need a bigger game than rodents, hares and whatever scraps of food are scattered in the forest," she reminded. Three wolves were not enough to bring down a moose or a sturdy sea lion. "I understand that she wounded your pride and stepped out of boundaries yet we were in need of another. I might sound unfair now to you, but this is for the greater good of us all," she tried to reason her actions. "The start might be rocky - but who says she won't turn out useful in the end? Few months ago I didn't care for a single living being here and look, where I am now," if Pump could change, why wouldn't she trust in Diluculo?
The bigger picture. Of course there was a bigger picture. In truth, Ragnar had not given much thought to the grizzly bear since the day of his sacrifice to Odinn when he had heard it tear apart a mother cougar whose cub had hid behind his legs. Ragnar could not justify how a grizzly bear that to his general knowledge had stayed away from their lands, was more important than respect of the hierarchy. The bear would die or move on of it’s own accord while the hierarchy would always stay, always be vital to how a wolf pack interacted and worked as a cohesive unit. “If it has not bothered us why anger it by attacking it?” Frankly, Ragnar did not want to be torn apart by the bear as the cougar had been, neither did he really want to see anyone else be torn apart by it. It was a strange thing to consider but he had come to view the wolves within the pack as friends and since he would be a father soon he did not want to leave Thistle alone with them even though technically the pups did not belong to them, anyway.
“I understand the necessity of her joining our ranks, I don’t like it, but I do understand,” Reluctantly, begrudgingly but it was there nevertheless. “That being said I will push her until she breaks, she needs to learn a lesson. She should be punished for it. Perhaps that will teach her to pay more heed to the hierarchy.” Ragnar, in a way, was asking for Pump’s permission to do so, because in the end he was only just a subordinate. “I do have a question, however, though the timing is inappropriate but I do not know when I will get the chance to ask you again with the border patrols and hunting for Thistle and accompanying her to look for her flowers,” herbs whatever it was she used to heal them. “have you given any reconsideration to my offer?” Of course it would have been fair if she told him that she entirely changed her mind given what had just transpired between them. He did not expect the answer to be in his favor given his behavior and likewise would begin to put his alternative plans into action though he was not sure if she would allow Thistle to leave with him. Her words at the meeting had sounded rather resolute to him.
Thistle chuckled softly and said quietly Herbs not flowers herbs. but she shook her head in mirth. Her husband did not change, he still did not see the art in her healing, though and she was sure he was loathe to admit it it was an art that was needed.
Pump listened to Ragnar's decision to make Diluculo pay for making a fool out of him. A small voice in her head said, however, that this wouldn't be an easy task to do. Diluculo and Ragnar had some common traits and giving up without a fight wasn't one of them. "Deal with the situation the way you think it is appropriate," in other words - you two are grown up people and I am not your mom to tell you, what to do. "As long as you keep it between yourselves - if the conflict begins to affect all of us - I will intervene and I won't care, who said what to whom first," she regarded him with a calm look and with this she had finished talking about this matter.
"I haven't forgotten it, Ragnar," Pump replied. To be true - she had been thinking about it time from time and hadn't made any decision. He had proven himself to be loyal and dedicated, she trusted him on a certain level and he had climbed the ranks quickly. And yet she didn't want to grant his wish, because he wasn't the only aspiring beta here. Thistle and Gavriil were doing a great job too, she hadn't lost her hope in Kennedy too and so far she had dealt with the leader business on her own and wasn't too overwhelmed. "But I would like Thistle to be your top priority now. Keep her safe and well taken care of, do the same for the cubs, once they are born," even though she had promissed to help too, she wasn't going to babysit all the time.
"I am in no haste to fill the beta position," she explained, in case he misunderstood and thought that she would add someone else in the meantime. "I value your job highly, therefore think about this current task as another step to make towards being the second in command," he liked to test people and this was a bit like a test for him too, because once he stepped up, her demands for him would be very high. It was better to cherish the time he had with the little family he had built.
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At Thistle’s correction regarding the bear Ragnar’s eyes snapped to her sharply looking for any signs of injuries - even though he knew she had not been attacked by it -
Ragnar stoically, regarded Pump’s words with careful consideration, dissecting them to see if there was any sort of hidden meaning that would catch him off guard in the future. They were not the words he had been wanting. Still, she denied him. For a wild second he contemplated who he would have to kill for the position because he was not beyond that - if ending his brother, Björn’s life was any indication (it was), and if she was underestimating his ambition she would be in for the shock of her life. Killing was in his blood, it was apart of his genetics. It was understandable that Pump wanted him to focus on his wife and babes, it made sense but he was made to lead. Eyes narrowed into slits in their pools of Caribbean blue as he looked at neither Thistle or Pump. For a second he stared at nothing as he realized he was failing Odinn and knowing that made his heart feel heavy. How many times would Odinn accept his failures before he was barred from Valhalla? Odinn had selected him, had favored him and yet Ragnar saw only how he was failing his God - his descendent.
Ragnar only knew if Pump chose someone else over him that he would leave. It was ultimately her choice but Ragnar would no longer continue to be her lap dog. He could be a leader and a father. Ragnar’s own father had done it but there was no sense in arguing with her over it - her decision had been made. He looked at Thistle then, feeling Odinn’s disappointment in him like a crushing weight.
She saw his eyes narrow and felt him retreat inward and she for a flailing moment wanted to console, but decided against it. She knew this was something he would have to work on his own. Her husband felt that he was meant to leave and every time he was denied what he wanted he got more volatile. It was worrying while at the same time strange territory for her.
Thistle licked his ear as he nuzzled her and then watched him walk away. She knew he would not be back tonight, he had some things to sort through. So she turned her eyes towards Pump and offered her a smile. "I am sorry for you getting undue stress thrust upon your shoulders of late Pump.
Before leaving, she gave one last long look at Thistle, feeling a little disappointed that by becoming Ragnar's mate she had let him come between them. She was loyal to him first and then only came Pump and the rest of the pack. "Goodnight, Thistle," she said and walked off, having a lot on her mind and for the first time in a long time wishing that she was somewhere else and didn't have to deal with all of the difficulties that came with being a leader.