"You did, I merely... he was very cross about you leaving a slave in charge of him," Athelstan smiles briefly. He misses those earlier days terribly now.

He lets go of his wrist, his hands dropping to his lap as he goes back to fiddling with the bracelet now that he had finished sewing up the wound. He's exhausted and he's never felt more conflicted. He'd been so happy to be with Ragnar and this day feels like a punishment from God for being so sinful.

"Clean up and go to bed, you look terrible."