After grabbing a bottle of whiskey, a drink that had been recommended to him, and a glass, he sat down heavily at the kitchen table and poured himself a little bit, knocking it back with a grimace. While Athelstan spoke, he began to pour himself another helping, but decided just to take a drag straight from the bottle. Fuck it.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose and once again dragged his hand over his face. He would eventually speak to Ivar once both of them had calmed down a little bit, but meeting accusations and knives with empathy and compassion hadn't been an option.

"Well. When he cares to speak to me like an adult, I will treat him as one and listen to what he has to say. And, if he continues to act like he did, then I do not care what he has to say. Mostly, because it is all insults," He paused to take another drink, "Or perhaps you overheard an argument I was not present for."

He made a face, frustration welling up again, but for the moment he was taking it out on the label of the bottle, scratching little pieces of it off with his thumb.

"It matters to me. As you said. I am your friend. You were taken advantage of, whether you believe it or not. Perhaps we both would have avoided him..." He didn't know how true those words were. He had no idea what knowing what Dodger had done would've changed things and it was pointless to try to think about them now.