Stavanger Bay Sing me a siren song

Thistle woke up and looked around trying to gather her bearings. She had been sleeping deeply and something woke her. Putting it off as just a simple issue of waking, she moved from her spot next to Nerian. Having gravitated towards her sister wife in her sleep, after @Ragnar had left. She walked outside, the early morning light making everything look gray. The amount of fog that touched the ground made her shake her head. Winter was coming fast upon them.

Gentle petite paw steps left small grooves in the grass, as she wiped up the dew with her paw fur. Settling at the edge of the clearing she sat as the suns warm starting rays, hit her face and lit up the amber fur that lied there. She strode further on towards the borders, after warming her back and face. She smelled a few flowers and the leaves that were beginning to litter the ground. There were not many yet, but enough to leave some crinkly sounds ever so often.

Amber ears with black tips swiveled and turned to and fro as she walked. Listening to the trill of the birds and the call of the sea animals that were waking up. Today was going to be a good day, she hoped, thus far it was promising.

Ragnar rose early, as he usually always did, to work on filling the caches, and patrol his borders. It had became so habitual for him that it took nearly no conscious thought anymore. Wake up, stretch between his wives, offer each of them a kiss, leave the den, hunt, bury it, patrol the borders with constant vigilance (that would make Mad Eye Moody proud). The morning was heavy with fog, though, thick and dense and every so often Ragnar had to pause and lower his black, leathery nose to the ground to inhale the scents just to make sure he hadn't gotten off track. The fog was disorienting and in the midst of it Ragnar had stopped relying on his sight and turned, instead to his sense of smell and hearing. The cry of a raven overhead caused the scarred Scandinavian to pause, lifting his head towards the thick fog hidden canopy of the ancient copses above, searching for the black avian to slice through the fog. Odinn, Ragnar murmured skyward with a slight shiver in his spine, reverence for his All-Father felt deep in every beat of his heart within it's prison of his flesh and bone.

Somewhere along the line, the fog had began to thin, likely when the run began to rise a bit more prominently into the sky, making it a little bit easier for him to navigate based on his sight. Not that, mind, Ragnar gave much insight to vision. It could be easily tricked, he knew, and it could fail him where his instincts, hearing and sense of smell wouldn't. He scented Thistle upon the borders before he saw her silhouette cut from the fog. Good morning, Drottning, Ragnar purled at her in a greeting, as he closed the distance between them with just a few strides.

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Thistle did not pay much mind to the surrounding area. Lost in her own thoughts a deep swirling abyss of troubles and emotions and thoughts all mixed up in the chaos of her mind. She walked along the borders and inside the territory her small paws taking up little room and leaving wet footprints in the grass. The fog made it hard to see the surrounding area, but she kept going, occasionally sniffing just to be sure she did not wander away from the borders. She did not feel up for adventure today, she actually felt a little ill. A change of the season cold, perhaps. She would go to the medicinal cache and take some of her own herbs when she was done walking.

Thistle shifted and jumped slightly at her husband's voice, not realizing he was near her, so far lost in her own thoughts. She gave him a small smile, Hello dearheart. She breathed out gently, she nuzzled the fur of his shoulder and licked the side of his muzzle. Keeping us all safe i see. The fog was lifting as was the uncomfortable dampness of her fur. She shook her fur, droplets of dewy crystals falling to the earth in a shower of water glass. The light would occasionally hit them as they fell, making a prism of colors that struck her as awe inspiring as they hit the ground and shattered.

Ragnar watched as the muscles in Thistle's body clenched and released in a small jump that let him know that he had managed to startle her. Lips twitched with the restraint it was taking him not to laugh, though it wasn't that he wanted to laugh at her per say more that he wanted to laugh at the realization that he had startled her. Naturally, wolves were graced with the ability to move with stealth and a suitable amount of quietness in order to effectively hunt without startling their prey but Ragnar was not the stealthiest of creatures if only because of his colossal size. Which also did not make him the fastest though it had it's own share of advantages to offset those obvious disadvantages. He had always been swifter than Dagrun though, who had been bigger than Ragnar yet, though that had came straight from Eitri because Dagrun's slave mother had been, (admittedly pretty) small and lean, nothing like her tall and lumbering bear of a son. Almost like Thistle in her size and build. Another bought of amusement was fought away when Ragnar considered that being attracted to strong but small and dainty women must have ran in the family genetics.

Ragnar held obediently still for his Queen Wife when she nuzzled the fur of his unscarred shoulder, smirking beneath her tongue as it drew against his muzzle. It was no secret that Ragnar enjoyed the attentions of his wives and he gave Thistle a satisfied and contented rumble of a noise. It was a barbaric, neanderthal sort of noise, incoherent and wordless but it's meaning needed no translation. Odinn knows I am trying, The Jarl murmured before he peppered a trail of kisses on her muzzle, down her jaw, to her neck where he slyly nibbled, his tail wagging behind him for a few moments before he drew back. We have something we need to discuss, as Jarl and Earl of this pack, In a split second, the deviance of his playfulness melted away and in it's place he became serious, his focus shifting to his duty as (one of) the leader(s) of Stavanger Bay. It was important and he was determined not to let his Queen Wife's beauty (or body) distract him — though she was temptation incarnate, as she had always been for him.

A few days I was called to Gyrfalcon Keep by a stranger who called himself Adair, he smelled of the same pack as the male that attacked Julooke. It was not him, he did not have white eyes and our meeting did not...go over well. He was an old fool and spat words at me about how I have no honor, and that I do not deserve wolves to follow me all because he was insulted that I refused the gifts of meat that he had apparently prepared for us and that I acted like an infant, and that I should learn humility and courage and maturity. A snort of amusement left the Viking's nostrils. Yes, he had remembered the words the old man had said to him but not for the reasons that Adair had wanted him too, surely. He remembered them to mock, only. If those words were true, then surely his rule would not have been accepted in the wake of Pump's death. If those words were true, Majesty's wolves wouldn't have flocked to him as they had. That wasn't to say that Ragnar thought he was perfect because he wasn't. He was selfish, a Heathen, barbaric, even. Harsh and unforgiving. His ambition was dangerous in that it knew no boundaries. He desired to keep Odinn's favor and to reach Valhalla when Odinn came to claim his life. He put his faith blindly in Odinn and his Pagan religion despite that he accepted that there were other Gods out there for other wolves, and there were no limitations on what he would do to ensure that Valhalla was where he ended up.

But he wasn't as heartless as he came off, not nearly so. He was still canine, he still loved and felt pain, anger, sorrow. He loved his wives, his children and his pack unconditionally, and there wasn't anything he wouldn't do for them — which had been his one redeeming quality his whole life. He wasn't helpful, he is a traitor to the Spine pack but I wish to make a trip there, to speak with their leaders...to see if I can find the male responsible for nearly killing Julooke. Julooke, who was just as much apart of his family (Verrine and their soon to be children as well) as much as his own sister and children and wives were. He had promised Julooke he would kill who was responsible for it and he intended to keep his promise. He would bring her the man's bloody pelt as proof, if she desired.

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By right Thistle should not have been frightened by her husbands voice. Especially as a warden, she should have been paying attention, but she hadn't been. She mentally yelled at herself, but kept her mouth quiet. Her brothers had always told her she was flighty on her best day, and she had just slightly proved it. She shook her small head, it wasn't like she was this way every day, and she had a lot on her mind lately.

Thistle chuckled softly at the incoherent noise he made. Even though her thoughts threatened to overtake her, she looked down for a moment and then back up. She flicked an ear, and a noise of her own was forced up from the depths of her chest and insides at his ministrations. Sometimes she hated that he could turn her into a puddle of goo, but today was not one of those days that she hated it. Thistle perked an ear forward at his words. Okay what do we need to talk about? She settled herself to her haunches and looked up at him.

Thistle's muzzle twitched slightly Well a bit of humility wouldn't exactly go amiss Ragnar. She teased him gently, but she soon became serious herself irritated at the fact that another one these wolves were out and about. Gods above knew her husband wasn't perfect, and there were a lot of things he could work on and some things that would destroy him if he wasn't careful, and would take his family down with him. But that did not give another the right to mock him, or treat him so abhorrently, though knowing her husband she imagined he had perhaps been a bit condescending, he did that sometimes without even thinking. Why was he bringing gifts anyway?

Thistle listened and a terrible frown marred her pretty face Very well Ragnar and when you find him, kill him please. It was not often that Thistle was in favor of death, but in this case she'd kill the bastard herself and dance on his bones.

Thistle listened to his story, and his amusement faded quickly when she teased him that humility would help him, though if she was speaking about his leadership skills or a different aspect of their life he wasn't quite able to tell. A Jarl should be confident, Thistle. If he isn't confident in his abilities to lead a pack then neither will his subordinates be confident in him. Ragnar held the, likely, unpopular opinion on the fact that despite that everyone thought that they were leadership material the fact was: they weren't. Not everyone was cut out to lead and humility, to Ragnar, was doubt. Something that the Scandinavian very rarely felt. He didn't tell me specifics but he said that he'd heard of me and my pack. Apparently, I'm infamous. And Ragnar sincerely hoped he lived up to the words that Adair had heard about him, to prove that he truly was the Heathen he was rumored to be. Perhaps that would get the message across not to cross him.

I was going to ask Verrine if he would be interested in going with me, but he will be a father any day now and I can't risk that, He wasn't going to ask Verrine to abandon his wife and newborns on what might be a march to death when Ragnar...well sure he had plenty to lose but he didn't fear death and if that was what it came too he would accept Odinn and Valhalla with arms wide open. Not that he anticipated dying any time soon. Odinn had a promise to keep for Ragnar was fulfilling his end of their deal. I do not know how long that I will be gone, He drew in a soft breath, considering. but I trust you, Thistle, and I feel confident leaving things in your paws. He wished she wouldn't be quite such a bleeding heart but she wouldn't be Thistle if she was any different and it was that, something that was part of her, that he had fallen in love with.

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Thistle shook her head and play growled at her husband as she stood and slid beside him. Rubbing her face gently across his shoulder you are far too serious dearheart I was merely teasing. she licked the side of his jaw and slid against him again only to pass by him and sit back down looking at him. you are confident Ragnar I do not question that. Thistle chuckled at him and shook her downy head. Well I guess it is true that news travels. Welcome to infamy dearheart.

Thistle frowned I would tell you to take one of the boys, but they are far too young to be going towards what could be a fight. Now if they were 6 months perhaps. she grew quiet in thought. Merely listening and studying her husband. Thistle dipped her muzzle, unsure what to say. He trusted her, and she would do her best. I'll do my best Ragnar. Just...come back to us.

Her growl was playful, and Ragnar answered it with a smirk that merely widened when he felt the continuous brush of her muzzle against his shoulder. I didn't say I wasn't confident, I was saying why humility isn't a very desirable trait in a leader. Of course, that was just Ragnar's opinion which didn't mean it was right. Still, he believed it regardless of what anyone else believed. It's like I never left Odinn's Cove. I'm hardly bothered by it, The Cove and it's wide span of leaders, all calling themselves something different from the last (except Ragnar who snagged the word 'Jarl' from his father, Eitri) had quite the reputation passed along to them when they stepped up to take the helm of the monstrosity that was the Cove and Freyja's Moors. No, I would never endanger the children like that, Ragnar told her firmly. Even if they were old enough to accompany him on such a trip he still would forbid them to come. He was their father and what kind of father allowed his young children to go on a trip that he wasn't sure would go how he had planned it. A very poor one.

This may be a stupid trip, But all he wanted was the white eyed man. He wanted him to pay for harming Julooke, and Ragnar was determined to get to him one way or another. Whether he had to go on a suicide mission or not. Do not worry, my love, Ragnar crooned to Thistle, placing a kiss and nibble on her jaw. Odinn will not let me die any time soon, Ragnar was so confident in that, that nothing could shake that firm belief of his. I will come back. He assured her in a husky murmur against her cheek.

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, .

I have humility Ragnar? Do you think I am a good leader for the most part? I know very well you think I am too soft about some things. But overall. She was not fishing for a compliment, she was merely pointing out the obvious.

Thistle listened to him and shook her head, growling again as she nipped playfully at his shoulder and the side of his jaw. Nothing to harm and she didn't even catch his skin, mostly air. However, she was in a playful mood and he may not be, but she was and he could not kill her good mood. She did take pause to have her ears stand up, Odinn's cove had a big reputation then? SHe tilted her head to the side, waiting on an answer to her question. Thistle had never heard of the cove, but she had not known many packs growing up, her parents living on the outskirts of most. Her mother was friendly with them all and she would offer her services to all, but they were not part of one. I had not heard of the cove before i met you. But then again, we were not part of a pack. My mother was a midwife/healer who offered her services to all who requested it in trade of course, and occasionally a voodoo ritual, but not usually. She grew quiet as she contemplated on her mother and what she had done, most likely still did.

Thistle dipped her head I know you won't Ragnar, you have a few faults, but being a bad father is not one of them. She did not say anything else keeping her words to herself, and she meant no offense with those words anyway, rather complimenting him in a way.

Thistle listened It may be, but if you find the white eyes male, even not to see him yet, but know where he is. Then it is not a wasted trip, and we shall be fine here Dearheart. Thistle made a quiet sound at his nibble and as he spoke into her cheek she turned her muzzle and tugged playfully at his neck fur and then slid her muzzle across his throat to rest on his shoulder and she nipped again playfully, standing to brush her own chest against his and craning her neck she nibbled softly at the spot between his shoulder blades, granted she could not do it long having to almost stand on tip toes to do so. She slid her muzzle back down his shoulder and leaned her head into his chest backing up, flicking her tail to and fro.

He enjoys instigating things way too much, lol. xD

Ragnar glimpsed away from Thistle at her question, angered that it sounded like she was basically telling him that the old man had, had a point. That he didn't deserve to lead because his methods weren't “normal”. Because he wasn't friends with everyone, because he did not accept charity, nor did he give it. Because he didn't believe in the ideas of allies because he knew, deep down, that if they were ever called upon they would put their own pack and subordinate's lives before needlessly wasting them. It was what Ragnar would do, but then again he never entered into an engagement that he couldn't nor wouldn't keep; and he wasn't going to tell Thistle that she wasn't a good leader because if he believed that he would have never made her his Queen. Ragnar thought his decisions through, especially when it came to things as important as co-leaders, and Thistle knew that. If you and any of the others think that he was right then usurp me. Kill me. If I do not deserve to lead, if I am not worthy of having wolves follow me, then by all means, take over. He hissed at her. Better yet, I'll drag him back and let him lead since he is apparently, right, and knows so much better than me. We'll see how long Stavanger Bay stays. Ragnar would have liked to thought that his subordinates would not let that happen but he didn't know; what he didn't understand was if he was such a horrible leader, if he was a child, if he inspired by fear why all of the times he'd been a leader no one had stepped up to say anything or challenge him. If someone thought they could do it better, if they had what it took to step into his paw prints then Ragnar would let them and he would watch them fail, buried under the weight and burdens that he bore every day in the name of his pack and his subordinates that he loved.

He was being cruel and he knew it, but he took Thistle's question how he had, even if it had been a massive misinterpretation. Do you honestly think wife that I would have made you a Queen if I thought you would be poor at it? Ragnar inquired drawing a cruel, sharp 'hmm' in his throat.

Up north we did, Ragnar responded simply, still seething a little from what they had previously discussed. He took her nibbles in good face but he was still a little irritated. If it wasn't for him Stavanger Bay wouldn't exist, and Horizon Ridge might have well been dead, with the combination of the bear and Wheeling Gull Isle. Someone probably would have stepped up, no doubt (and it helped having core wolves that he relied upon like Julooke and Verrine) but even so would they have done as well? Maybe. Maybe they would have done better. But Ragnar had stepped up and led them away from the dangers, and while not kind to outsiders was not a tyrant to his faithful subordinates. Or so he thought, anyway, but then again his opinion of himself was bound to be incredibly biased.

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Thistle backed up from her position against his chest and stared at him as he threw a fit like a child. Good gods she had married a child, she shook her head. He was not a child, but at the moment he was sure acting like a spoiled, coddled one. She supposed it was partially her fault for always giving in to him, but that ended now. He was being ridiculous. Blue eyes flashed and she growled not happily this time, but in irritation. Ragnar Loðbrók stop being insufferable right this instant. I did not say you were not a good leader, I did not say you deserved to be unsurped and I surely to the gods do not think this other male should lead us. You husband are being snide, and snarky and it is not deserved. I was merely pointing out that I am humble and hold humility yet I lead. I was not stating that because you are not humble that you deserve nothing less than death. What has gotten into you! Sometimes I swear my husband that you pick fights with me just for the grand hell of it. I was in a good mood for once in a long while and you have ruined it congratulations Ragnar, you've managed to upset me yet again, by taking something that i said completely out of context. No one knows how to lead Stavanger Bay better than you and no one deserves to lead it more than you and I cannot believe that you of all wolves would think that i would feel this way. Your subordinates worship the goddamned ground that you walk on yet you disrespect them like this by saying they want you out of your position. It is foolish and you are acting sulky.

She shook her head and continued backing up, she hung her head and looked down at the ground, fighting the rush of emotions he had managed to uncover yet again. She wanted to scream and cry, but she just bit her lip and stared at the ground. Tired of constantly being on the receiving end of his anger when it wasn't even her fault. He seemed to take his issues out on her all the time, never once had she heard him take any of his irritation out on anyone but herself. She took a deep breath and lifted blue eyes flashing fire at him and she turned and simply began to walk away. If he wanted her he could chase her she was done. No Ragnar you would not have made me queen if you thought I couldn't lead, or perhaps you made me queen so you could take your frustration out on me as you so often do. I am done being berated for something you misinterpretated Ragnar Loðbrók. If you want me you know where to find me husband. And just like that she continued on hoping that he would come after her and apologize while at the same time seething in abject anger and frustration at her husband. Gods why did she have to love such a stubborn and insufferable man!

If she had told him that she thought he was being a child, just as Adair apparently thought that he was, Ragnar might have at least attempted to defend himself. He was allowed to get upset about misunderstood words, he was allowed to be angry (after all the common tongue wasn't his first language and sometimes it was easy for him to misinterpret her meanings). Ragnar smirked at her in his irritation when she growled at him, getting mad at him for being mad at her because she had made him feel, by questioning herself as a leader, that she was agreeing with the old fool who had attempted to tear Ragnar down with words. As far as Ragnar was concerned he felt that Thistle had confirmed it and so it was a natural defense of his to prod, to instigate because he felt he had too to get to her true feelings. Ragnar was many things but ignorant was not one of them and he knew she was hiding things from him. It sounded to me like you were agreeing with him, Ragnar told her simply and if it was true well then someone could step up to him and they would fight to the death for the helm. Just like real Vikings did, just as Ragnar had done to Bjorn. Perhaps you should have made it clearer. You forget that the common tongue isn't my native and I do misunderstand, But likely she would probably shoot that he was just using it as an excuse and his attempts at defense would be shot down. It was probably useless but he was going to do it anyway.

I am not disrespecting them, He countered her quickly. I never said I didn't want to lead. Do you really think I am so selfless as to give up what I worked so hard for? I was bringing that up to make a point wife. I'm aware that someone would have said something long ago if I wasn't fit to lead. Do you really think my ilk would have let an incapable leader lead them? If Ragnar hadn't stepped up to Bjorn someone else would have. The Northmen looked for specific qualities in their leaders and they would rise up against them without so much as a second thought if it was what needed to be done. If someone wants to take this pack...my family from me, they will have to kill me. But she knew that.

Thistle kept back away from him and he just stared at her with stoic eyes, watching as she turned and began to walk away, his body ghosting forward as if she had a rope around his neck, tugging him after her. Why is it that you are allowed to be mad at me, that you are allowed to lie and hide things from me but the first time that I get angry at you I'm the bad guy, hmm? He asked her, with every intention to follow her and work this out with her. She should have known him better than that. Like he was just going to let her walk off. They were having a lover's spat (which they had a lot, frankly) but he loved her far too much to just let it go. Letting it go wouldn't fix the problem and he didn't want to part ways with her on these terms. Not when neither of them had any idea what would happen on his trip, or if he would come back at all. It was a horrible thing to be on bad terms with someone only to come to find out that they had died, knowing the last thing that had been said between you was said out of anger and not really meant.

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*pushes Ragnar and Thistle together* Now kiss and make up dammit, lol!

She shook her head at his smirk, gods sometimes she hated those things. She just wanted to rip his face off at times. She had a ready retort, when he caused her pause. She had not forgotten this wasn't his first language, but she had forgotten how things could be misinterpreted. I was not agreeing with him Ragnar I am not cruel, or heartless or mean I would not hurt you so with words like that. It was a rhetorical question, just to prove a point. She shook her head again and continued turning away.

Thistle listened to him, all the while seething with anger and hurt and every dratted emotion the man made her feel. How could one man incite such things in her it was unreal really. I already know that. was her scathing reply and it was all she felt was needed at the moment. He was the one that had said if she and his subordinates wanted rid of him to step up, as if they thought cruel things about him behind his back.

Thistle swung around so quickly she stumbled. Narrowed blue eyes with a snarl on her maw. Lied? Hidden things? You are paranoid Ragnar Paranoid. When have I ever lied to you? I have never been anything, but honest with you. And what do I hide from you? My own feelings? They are my own Ragnar they belong to no one I do not have to share them if I do not wish too. And this is not the first time you have gotten angry with me, because you were originally angry at someone else!" Thistle didn't really want to part with him on such terms either, but he had opened the door to the flood gates and he felt her hellish wrath. There was more she could have said, she supposed, but instead she just choked back her words, and turned around again to hide the anger and the hurt, that lit up her blue eyes and threatened to spill over in the form of her own salty water. She was tired of always fighting with him, for a brief moment she wished she was more like Nerian and kept her mouth shut and her head down. She quickly dispelled that thought, but it was there. Maybe if she was he'd like her more and wouldn't pick a fight all the time. Granted she picked her own fair few.


Thistle be like why we always fight!

Because they love each other. :P

If she'd have told him her desire to rip his face off at times the Scandinavian would have came back with the fact that someone had already tried it. Why did you need to ask it, hmm? The Viking responded to her, taking a small pause before he continued with, I would not have made you my Queen if I did not think that you couldn't handle it. If you wouldn't be good at it. The wolves of this bay love you, too. They'd made each other mad by trying to prove points and Ragnar wondered if perhaps they both should have just kept their mouths shut. Then don't put words in my mouth, He retorted back to her scathing reply, black, leathery nostrils flaring as he met her gaze, tail lashing against his haunches as if he were trying to expel his pent up anger and energy out with each jerking movement of it (his tail).

You tell me that you are ok with Nerian but you are not. You think I can't see it? You think Gunnar keeps things from me? He is upset because you are upset and I don't want him to hate me for it Thistle. I don't want you to hate me either, It was hard for Ragnar to admit these types of things. It had always been said that a warrior never reveals his heart until the axe does but he was trying to be open with her. It scared the Viking — exposing his feelings, his fears to Thistle but it also proved that he trusted her. Why can't you share your feelings with me? I have always shared mine with you. We are together, Thistle. We are husband and wife, we are an Alpha pair. We are like Odinn and Freyja. Granted, Ragnar wasn't exactly sure if they shared their feelings or not but he didn't know why not. It seemed like a logical thing to him because Eitri and Kenna had often shared theirs and often had fights but at the end of the day they had loved each other. Kenna had loved his father even after he had an affair with a slave woman and produced Dagrun.

Ragnar watched Thistle turn away from him and for a moment the Berserker just stood there, staring at her back for a few, still and breathless seconds. When he finally did take a breath it was deep and expelled hard from his flared, black, leathery nostrils. He moved against her side as long as she didn't pull away, and murmured I am sorry my love, Whether she chose to accept it or not was up to her. This is not how I want to part ways with you, He admitted. He was fairly confident he wasn't going to die any time soon but he truly didn't know. He was no Seer, after all.

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[size=x-small]That they do crazy kids lol[/size],

Thistle chocked on a hysterical laugh. It was a rhetorical question Ragnar. It was not meant to be answered. I already knew the answer i was proving a point, by asking a question, with a straightforward answer. She shook her head, she just didn't know. She needed to remember her husband did not always understand such nuances. She had not meant to incur his wrath, or incite his anger. She had been merely trying to point out, counteract his words about having humility and not being a good leader. That was all, and then one thing got misconstrued and the whole thing was just a shit show. She sighed softly, they were both so stubborn not wanting to give an inch. But one of them would, they always ended up giving in, and usually it was her.

Thistle froze at his words about Nerian and Gunnar and she turned to stare at him.I already took care of Gunnar Ragnar, he is fine. He will not hate you, and I could not hate you, no matter what. And what would you have me say Ragnar? Because everytime I bring up your priestess and how i feel about it you are quick to defend and you don't listen anyway, so I do not see a point in telling you the same thing that I had already told you over again. So Yes Ragnar I was not okay, I am still not okay. I do not know if I will ever be okay, but it does not matter, because I said yes. I told you it was okay and I will continue on with the way I am. And as far as Nerian is concerned, I am used to the idea of her, and for the most part I care about her in my own way. I told you i just needed some time and I was right. So you can let that matter rest. She grew quiet and stared at him, she didn't know what he wanted her to tell him. She shared her feelings with him on everything else, except Nerian and that was because he always shut her down. He always protected his precious priestess, so yes she didn't speak to him about her feelings where she was concerned and she wouldn't. She would keep them to herself, because he didn't understand. Perhaps if someone approached him about sharing Thistle he would understand, but she did not see that happening, did not want to be shared anyway. I tell you my feelings Ragnar about Everything except Nerian and that is the way it will stay.

A soft quick shuddered worked it's way down from the tip of Thistle's nose to her tail tip when he ghosted up besides her. Because she could not deny him anything he wanted at anytime and his touch was like fire to her ice. So she let him there, she did not move, did not say anything. Though she did swing blue eyes to look at him with surprise written on her face. Ragnar Loðbrók did you just apologize with actual words instead of flowers? She stared at him a moment longer and took a deep breath and dipped her muzzle, You are forgiven and I am sorry too, but you know better than to push at me I push back. You would think you would learn. The last part was made in an attempt at jest, to try and lighten the sour mood that had permeated the air around them. She did not want him to leave like this either. I do not want you to leave like this either. She did not say anything else, but she turned to gaze out over the bay, still a little hurt and unsure how to precede.

It was something of a relief to the scarred Scandinavian to hear that Gunnar would not hate him, but more importantly that she didn't hate him. Perhaps he was a bit paranoid on that matter, but then again he'd done nothing to exactly help his situation. Dutifully, the Jarl remained silent through his Queen Wife's rant, knowing that he had no real room to interject and because, frankly, he was tired of fighting with her. It seemed like it was all they did most days. Eitri had once told him that if he didn't get angry at his wife sometimes, then it meant that the marriage was falling apart — that he wouldn't get angry if he didn't care. Ragnar saw the truth in those words, but desired to ask his father, here in now, if there came a point when anger was all there was even if turned into heated passion, borne of the love that could build an empire or demolish it into nothing but dust and ashes. If it meant something was wrong, in and of itself. But if he examined the problem all he could find was himself. He brought Thistle's unhappiness but the heathen was too selfish to let her go. She was not his possession, but he couldn't help but feel possessive of her, nevertheless. He loved her, adored her even when she was (rightfully) angry with her. It wasn't like Ragnar could ever let Thistle leave him. They might not have been the perfect match, but then again, neither exactly was Odin and Frigga and yet they made it work. For an infinite amount of time that Ragnar, realistically, probably couldn't even comprehend.

A soft chuckle left the Viking's lips when his Queen Wife's head turned so that she could look at him, her surprise at the words that he had allowed to leave his lips dominant. You deserve much more than flowers, Though, he half considered trying to find her some on his trip back. He wasn't so sure he would be able to find lilacs at this time of the year (but in reality he didn't know and Tokio doesn't know because she's allergic to them and stays as far away as she can). It wasn't often that Ragnar apologized for ...anything, at least in the verbal, crystal clear and concise manner. The most important thing I want you to know is that I love you, even if it doesn't always seem like I do. If he said nothing else to her before he died then he would die a happy man knowing that she knew that he did love her.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN

Thistle could never hate Ragnar, no matter what he did to her. It was in a way very sad, for he could do anything to her, and though it maybe bad enough for her to leave, she would not hate him. Always she would love him. She supposed she shouldn't despair, that was a good type of love, as long as he didn't take advantage of it.

Thistle did not like to fight, as a matter of fact she hated it. However, she was far too stubborn to not stand her ground when someone pushed at her. It was self preservation she supposed to push back. Thistle honestly didn't know if she could ever leave the scarred man that was hers, but not only hers.

Thistle mumbled softly at him about yea she did. But she did smile then a small smile, a soft one. She was still hurt and a little upset, but she was slowly calming down and she was determined to salvage her day. Thistle looked at him and then nodded I love you too Ragnar. She slid her head against his shoulder, she would tuck herself under his chin, but decided against it, preferring his shoulder anyway. She nipped gently enough and then licked the side of his face.

Feel free to archive it as is or tack a conclusion post on for Thistle. ^-^

Thistle's mumbled concur that she deserved much more than flowers made a small smile break the Viking's stoic facade, genuine and soft as it teased the edges of his lips. A soft chuckle rose up the strong column of the scarred man's throat, pushing effortlessly betwixt his lips as he glimpsed at her from the corner of his eye, rolling it with affection at her. Only Thistle could honestly get away with talking back to him as she did. Under more than most circumstances Ragnar hated to be talked back too, and coming from anyone else it felt like a direct challenge to his authority; but it was Thistle and it wasn't like her spitfire attitude was anything new to him. Thistle had been that way with him from the start, and it was the chase that she gave him that had intrigued him the most, initially; and even then being (one of) his wife(wives?) did have it's perks. Ragnar knew that Thistle would tell him what he needed to hear, whether he liked what she had to say or he didn't. Her ministrations on his shoulder, and the feel of her tongue against the scarred side of his face had the Scandinavian humming softly in his throat.

Keep the bed warm for me while I'm gone, He murmured huskily, moving so that he could run his tongue over the velveteen fur of her ear. Goodbye my Shieldmaiden. He offered her one last kiss before he detached himself from her side with a great reluctance and turned, his gaze fixated upon the free territories beyond the safety of their Bay. He had made a promise when he had first stepped up to leadership, even before he claimed the title of Jarl of Odinn's Cove that he would always protect those within his borders. Their lives were his responsibility, and he knew that this was something he had to do for Julooke — no matter the cost.

With a last glance back at her he offered her a wolfish grin before he crossed over the threshold of their borders, his direction North, knowing that he wouldn't stop hunting until he'd found the man responsible.

TABLE CODE BY JOHN

A smile tugged at her maw at his chuckle. It made her giggle in return. She knew that she got away with much more than most where her husband was concerned. She wasn't even sure if Nerian could back talk him so and not feel his wrath. She had remembered the day that she had been hurt and Nerian had stood up for her. Ragnar had been displeased and told them both there would be consequences. However, for her they never came. She smiled in a purely feminine way when he hummed in his throat, pleased as punch that she could always make him take pause.

Thistle chuckled Okay I will She leaned into his lick and then snorted softly as it tickled slightly. She watched him leave with a grin for her and her heart fell deep down to her toes. She feared for him, if an entire pack felt he wronged their member would he be any match against them? Any at all? She blinked fast and furiously and then dipping her muzzle to the ground. She took over where he left off patrolling the borders and she would do some hunting later. She would not be able to get as much game as him, but she would just have to be more determined to get something everyday.