Another frustrated sigh. He raises his hands in a brief shrug before going back to tugging at the seam on the cushion. Slowly, he lets Athelstan take his hand, curling his fingers around the monk's.

"Maybe you should let me judge what I can or cannot give up," He pointed out quietly. He wasn't certain, about anything, but he knew he didn't like seeing Athelstan like this, "You are obviously not happy..."

The smile Athelstan attempts is more than enough proof, though he believes every word Athelstan says.