"Do you realize how stupid that sounds? You just asserted that I might have done so to make you feel guilty, what else would you call that?" Athelstan snapped. "I am sorry for what I said because I had no right to say any of it. But your son loves you and you don't know when to bend before you break something even if it is your own child, even if it is yourself. He is too much like you and you do not know how to deal with a mirror. It is frustrating to witness. You're never the one to deal with the wreck you make of the people who love you."
Athelstan's hands clench before he continues. "I had no right to tell you it was Dodger but you are..." he looks lost for the word. "You're my friend, who else do I have to tell what weighs on my heart? It's incredibly selfish of me, though. I regret it but I had no ulterior motive and I do not care that you are not sorry. I learned long ago that even if you are, the person you are sorry toward will never know because you are too prideful to show even the smallest amount of remorse."
"Bend? Bend to what? My own son coming to my home to throw knives at me, furious at me for... for what? For something I was not aware of, some idiotic rivalry?
And you... you're acting as if I did something to him to cause this.
But. Apparently that is exactly what I deserve according to you. According to him. So why should I be surprised?" His eyes were getting red and glassy again, but he refused to let his emotions get the better of him.
"It did not hurt so much coming from him. He is a child. An angry child. My fault as well apparently.
But from you, Athelstan..." He bit his lip, shaking his head free of the train of thoughts that crowded it, "As for you and Dodger, I only wish you had said so sooner."
He turned away, heading into the kitchen. If nothing else, he could just follow Athelstan's example and drink this all away.
Athelstan looks tired when Ragnar doesn't really understand the nuance of what he said. He supposes that he can hardly fault him for that. He's not sure he would be doing much better if he were sober but if he were sober he likely would have said very little about any of this at all. Athelstan wanted to just continue to leave, to go to where his art supplies are and try to pray though, what is heavy on him are not things that his God would give him the answers that he really wishes to have.
He waits until Ragnar is done talking, having watched him throughout it. He's quiet for several long seconds while the other is apparently going for alcohol as well.
"He is a child, Ragnar. He is worried and probably with very good reason. You saw only his anger because that's the only way he knew how to react but he is sad, pained and worried. I think there is something more than a simple idiotic rivalry and he needs you more than either of you are willing to admit. What brought him to this state may not be your fault but if you had or would bend to give him some emapthy and some of that compassion I know you are capable of then you two might be able to understand each other if nothing else. But you had to be stubborn, cocky and right. You made him feel as if you didn't care, Ragnar."
There's a tired sigh before he continues and he knows that he won't leave yet and so he sits on the sofa that had provided partial coverage to Ragnar earlier. His fingers idly toy with the bracelet on his wrist. There's so much of his true feelings that he hides from Ragnar, maybe first and foremost how deeply he loves him and perhaps secondly the deep insecurity that he will disappoint or be inadequate even before things had become intimate.
"What would it have mattered if I had? I feel guilty and ashamed enough without you having a target to attack and more blood on my hands because of words I've said to you. I thought... it would be easy to avoid because when would I have to hear of him again?"
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.
Athelstan sighs because it feels as if Ragnar is still missing the point or perhaps is being deliberately obtuse about what he is trying to say. So he leaves the subject alone, perhaps things will work themselves out but knowing Ragnar it will be in the most painful and inefficient way for everyone but Ragnar.
"You would not have. If you want him, you will have him. Ragnar, I know you too well," he says softly. "I need it to not matter. There is enough to bear without that." He carries it anyway but not admitting it helps, he thinks.
His voice is even quieter, almost a murmur, perhaps more to himself and wishing that Ragnar wouldn't hear the words that wouldn't stay inside, as he says, "I knew there would always be someone else, I just thought it would be a woman."
"Knowing such a thing can change how desirable a person is," It had certainly given him doubts about Dodger. More doubts. Part of him knew he was to blame. He'd known Dodger wasn't a good person and he'd tried to overlook it.
He tore through more of the sticker, gritting his teeth.
He hated himself.
Of course, in the oppressive silence, it's almost impossible not to hear Athelstan's mumbling.
"What difference does that make?" He's genuinely asking. Did Athelstan's permission to love anyone he wanted only apply to women?
Athelstan doesn't comment because he doesn't really see how it makes much of a difference and he's too tired to belabor the point.
His hand switches to the crucifix but neither symbols really are providing him much comfort. One is attached to the source of his pain and the other a reminder that his pain is caused by broken vows.
He shook his head at the question and it's hard to find an answer that is honest without revealing more than he is willing to.
"It doesn't matter, Ragnar," he finally says. It's close enough to the truth. He thinks, perhaps, he really understands why Lagertha had to leave. It is hard to love Ragnar, to be with him. It would have been easier to have never kissed him to have been repressed and while denied those moments of thrilling true happiness he could have saved himself this particular burden.
"Athelstan..." He sighed, somewhere between desperate and hopeless.
He leaned back in his chair, dragging both hands down his face. Pushing himself to his feet, he made his way into the living room and sat down on the floor in front of the couch so he could finally look Athelstan in the eye.
His lips parted, but he ended up sighing again and rolling his eyes at himself, at all of this. It was all so frustrating.
"How can I know what you want from me, if you will not tell me," He gave him a pleading look, though it was obvious how uncomfortable he felt being this open and vulnerable. He studied his finger for a moment, the blood caked under his fingersnails, and then looked back up at Athelstan, searching his face.
"You said before... that... you did not care," He went to reach for Athelstan's hand, but stopped himself, instead he started toying with the seam of the couch cushion, "Talk to me. I do not want to lose you and my son in one night... Please..."
Athelstan finds it difficult to look at Ragnar directly but it's just as difficult not to. He remembers the surge of joy when they first kiss and it's now colored by a feeling that somehow he's broken and he doesn't know how he got this way. When did he start wanting so much that he could feel like this? His throat feels tight because Ragnar's face does something to him.
"I won't ask things of you that you cannot give. I know how that turns out for people," Athelstan whispers and he's thinking of Lagertha again. He reaches to take his hand. Somehow it aches to do so.
He forces a smile then. "You can never lose me. I'm always by your side, I'll always follow you. I always choose you. And you only lose your son if you're too big a fool to right things no matter who's at fault or who's childish."
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.
Athelstan squeezed Ragnar's hand slightly. The smile becomes more genuine if not more melancholy in a way. Perhaps the worst of this will pass on it's own. After all, Athelstan is used to denial, to holding back and not fully experiencing everything he desires. This is really not much different.
"If I told you, I would either always wonder if you'd come to resent me or I would be... I would know that you couldn't," the correct words are hard to find but he does his best. "My happiness is not your responsibility. Some questions are better left unasked and unanswered. Doesn't the seer always warn about too much knowledge?
He didn't return the squeeze, waiting hopefully for an answer, to be given a task that wasn't impossible. Instead, Athelstan was Athelstan.
With a quiet exhale, he eased backward to lay down, closing his eyes for a beat before opening them to stare up at the dark ceiling.
"The knowledge of what your lover expects in your relationship?" He asked with a sigh, at least his tone was light, almost teasing. At this point, he didn't know what to do, "No, Athelstan, the Seer has never warned me of such things."
His happiness was not Ragnar's responsibility... then why did it feel like his unhappiness was his fault?
The word choices stick to Athelstan and he can't help but think that they do not mean the same things to him as they did to Ragnar. He pulls his hand up, kissing the knuckles softly and pressing his hand to his cheek as he studies him.
"Wouldn't it pain you if I asked more of you than you could give?" Athelstan says softly. "Know that my desire for you is never quenched, my l-... my affection immeasurable and my ability to vex you is unceasing and infinite."
He finishes with a slow smile. In a way, he has honestly told Ragnar what he wants, just not in terms that force a decision or that require the acknowledgment that a question had even been asked.
"... Does that mean you will never happy?" He asked softly, a quiet hesitation between the question, but he has to know, "Will you not resent me? Will it not pain you? Knowing I cannot or..." He takes the longest pause, fighting some kind of inner debate over whether or not to be truthful. In the end, he knows the only person he's lying to is himself though. "... Or will not... give you everything you want?"
He shakes his head, once again finding his own fingers extremely interesting.
"I do not understand why you would... want this. Why you..." He shrugged a little, "...Tolerate me. Especially when you are so... you."
"Don't be ridiculous," Athelstan smiles slightly. "This is the cleverness of not asking the question. I do not know what your answer would be because I do not give you the chance to give it. There is no one to resent but myself if I choose to be resentful, which I won't. You'll remember that I've always wanted for very little so it is not much that I am possibly denied."
He sighs, Ragnar makes this difficult but he supposes that he makes it no easier. That is happiness seems so fragile is not a good thing for either of them and yet he doesn't know how to repair it but to do his best to keep on. Time has proven to help many things in his life.
"When I am so me?" he questions.
The questions posed are ones that he can't answer clearly without using a word he carefully avoids using. In the years he lived with lagertha and Ragnar he had never once heard Ragnar say it even though it was clear he loved her deeply and she had tried but a simply yes had never been something offered. There's a rueful smile as he realizes that maybe that sort of admission might be a salve to the wound he has. How many lovers had Ragnar been willing to say that to? He's certain that Aslaug had never had Ragnar's heart.
He doesn't particularly like Athelstan's very delicate plan, but he understood it.
A soft, tired smile tugged at his lips for a moment when Athelstan asked for clarification. He thought that part was fairly clear.
"Yes. You are so you. You are so... -I can't imagine anyone not wanting you," Telling Athelstan he was perfect didn't even start to do him justice. Perfect sounded boring and Athelstan was endlessly fascinating to Ragnar.
"I do not tolerate you, priest," He sighed, again falling into a long stretch of conflicted silence, "I need you. I want you here with me. Always."
"I am not sure what that has to do with...this," Athelstan looked confused. Perhaps, because there is no one he really cares about wanting him other than Ragnar. "And you are quite bias in any case."
Athelstan smiles because it's easy to believe that Ragnar needs him. He's seen Ragnar through a lot of trials, ones that Ragnar has not yet lived. "You will never be denied what you need and want," he promises.
Perhaps, talking of his own want and happiness is difficult but if he strips it down to his needs it is easier. "All I need is you, Ragnar, and a world to explore."
"It means-" And then he stopped himself, shaking his head in disbelief, "It means it would be easy for to find someone... different."
He'd given it some thought and was still perplexed that Athelstan saw anything in him. Unlike Athelstan, these thoughts had never really been about self worth, but about what he was possibly offering to the monk aside from a vaguely safe place amongst the Vikings, and even that was debatable. To learn that Athelstan had returned to England and then still chosen him confused Ragnar. He had always felt a strangely deep connection between them. Some days he might even call if fate bound. But when given the chance to return to England, he wouldn't have guessed the monk would've looked back.
He sat back up, leaning forward to rest his chin on the couch cushion, looking up at Athelstan.
"That, I can give you," Though he still feared it wouldn't be enough.
"I want no one else," Athelstan counters, his voice soft snd gentle. Perhaps, that is part of the problem at the end of the day. It could have been easier if it were both of them wanting more than each other but Athelstan never did particularly make the easy choices, especially when it comes to this Viking. "I've never wanted anyone else the way I want you."
It is certainly true. With Judith the lust had been there but he never desired her to leave her husband. He never wanted more than the one time and that had been a mistake itself. He hadn't wanted dodger, not in any honest or real way.
"That's all I can ask of you."
Then he hesitates, his fingers toying with the bracelet again. "I don't..." He starts and then stops although its only to try and formulate his words carefully. "I don't want to know anymore," he finally says. Perhaps it's a juvenile method to create a bubble, a world that's a half truth thats fully believed. "About anyone. Can you try..." It isnt ragnar s fault or any thing of his doing that had brought the revelation of dodger. In the question are unspoken requests that follow the logical path of if he didnt want to know of Ragnar's lovers.
In truth, given the choice athelstan would take any opportunity to erase the knowledge from his mind but such miracles don't exist.
Ragnar deflated a little at the request. Dodger was... different. There was something raw and primal that he needed from him. It wasn't love, it was... something else. Not that Athelstan would care, or even want to understand. But Sif...
"Even... if it was a woman?" He tried, since that seemed to make some kind of difference to Athelstan, "Would you not prefer to hear it from me than be surprised? Just... a name?"
He wasn't sure what he was hoping for between them. Nothing maybe. Maybe it was ridiculous to hope any of this would work out. But at least knowing who it was had to be better than finding out by accident.
Athelstan's fingers still toyed with the bracelet and he didn't answer right away. He hadn't thought of it, not really. And in truth there were differences to him, especially this young ragnar still so desperate for more sons.
"That's fine," he said after a moment of thought. Really, maybe dodger is the only one that hurts or maybe any man would have. He doesnt know and he doesn't really want to find out. He knows that Ragnar can never be his the way that he is Ragnar's and he could never ask it of him. Itd be like caging a bird.
"I am sorry I'm difficult," he murmurs.
"You should properly clean up and take care of these wounds."
"Yes," He looked reluctantly hopeful, "You may have met her already. She is very beautiful and strong. A force to be reckoned with. I think you will like her."
He paused, shaking his head at Athelstan when he apologized, "You have nothing to apologize for. Not when it comes to," He motioned between them, "This. Us."
At the mention of his injuries, he turned his hand slightly, frowning a little when he saw that his hand still seemed to be bleeding.
"I may need you to sew that. It is deep. The others are nothing and this is just an annoyance... but a bloody one," He pointed out, making a face.
"It sounds like youve met someone who reminds you of Lagertha," Athelstan smiles a little more. "Has she thrown any dishes at you yet?"
Athelstan still feela guilty despite that assurance. There's the desire to be able to mold himself to be just right but then again thats not what Ragnar would want of him and Athelstan has too many principles for it to work anyway. If he could change who he is he would have changed long ago.
"First we need to get all of them clean and clean clothes and then I will tend to it."
"In some ways... And in others they are nothing alike," He said with a shrug, trying not to smirk at the question, "Not dishes... A few apples though. She's also thrown me through a door."
He sighs happily like he couldn't ask for anything more in a woman.
Ragnar reluctantly pushed himself to his feet with a quiet exhale of pain, wishing Athelstan would agree to just let him ignore all of this until the morning. Maybe everything except for his palm. But he knew the monk would insist on trying to clean him up.
"I see," Athelstan smiles slightly and shakes his head. Ragnar is a strange man. "I am sure you did something that called for that."
Ragnar just had a way with women, obviously.
Athelstan stands. "Do you need my help to get cleaned up?" he questions, somewhere along the lines he'd started to sober up. Perhaps it's out of necessity to settle the peace between them or maybe it's just wearing off. There's a twinge of pain starting but he ignores it in favor of making sure Ragnar doesn't just go to bed with dirty and untended wounds.
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Athelstan's hands clench before he continues. "I had no right to tell you it was Dodger but you are..." he looks lost for the word. "You're my friend, who else do I have to tell what weighs on my heart? It's incredibly selfish of me, though. I regret it but I had no ulterior motive and I do not care that you are not sorry. I learned long ago that even if you are, the person you are sorry toward will never know because you are too prideful to show even the smallest amount of remorse."
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And you... you're acting as if I did something to him to cause this.
But. Apparently that is exactly what I deserve according to you. According to him. So why should I be surprised?" His eyes were getting red and glassy again, but he refused to let his emotions get the better of him.
"It did not hurt so much coming from him. He is a child. An angry child. My fault as well apparently.
But from you, Athelstan..." He bit his lip, shaking his head free of the train of thoughts that crowded it, "As for you and Dodger, I only wish you had said so sooner."
He turned away, heading into the kitchen. If nothing else, he could just follow Athelstan's example and drink this all away.
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He waits until Ragnar is done talking, having watched him throughout it. He's quiet for several long seconds while the other is apparently going for alcohol as well.
"He is a child, Ragnar. He is worried and probably with very good reason. You saw only his anger because that's the only way he knew how to react but he is sad, pained and worried. I think there is something more than a simple idiotic rivalry and he needs you more than either of you are willing to admit. What brought him to this state may not be your fault but if you had or would bend to give him some emapthy and some of that compassion I know you are capable of then you two might be able to understand each other if nothing else. But you had to be stubborn, cocky and right. You made him feel as if you didn't care, Ragnar."
There's a tired sigh before he continues and he knows that he won't leave yet and so he sits on the sofa that had provided partial coverage to Ragnar earlier. His fingers idly toy with the bracelet on his wrist. There's so much of his true feelings that he hides from Ragnar, maybe first and foremost how deeply he loves him and perhaps secondly the deep insecurity that he will disappoint or be inadequate even before things had become intimate.
"What would it have mattered if I had? I feel guilty and ashamed enough without you having a target to attack and more blood on my hands because of words I've said to you. I thought... it would be easy to avoid because when would I have to hear of him again?"
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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.
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"You would not have. If you want him, you will have him. Ragnar, I know you too well," he says softly. "I need it to not matter. There is enough to bear without that." He carries it anyway but not admitting it helps, he thinks.
His voice is even quieter, almost a murmur, perhaps more to himself and wishing that Ragnar wouldn't hear the words that wouldn't stay inside, as he says, "I knew there would always be someone else, I just thought it would be a woman."
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He tore through more of the sticker, gritting his teeth.
He hated himself.
Of course, in the oppressive silence, it's almost impossible not to hear Athelstan's mumbling.
"What difference does that make?" He's genuinely asking. Did Athelstan's permission to love anyone he wanted only apply to women?
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His hand switches to the crucifix but neither symbols really are providing him much comfort. One is attached to the source of his pain and the other a reminder that his pain is caused by broken vows.
He shook his head at the question and it's hard to find an answer that is honest without revealing more than he is willing to.
"It doesn't matter, Ragnar," he finally says. It's close enough to the truth. He thinks, perhaps, he really understands why Lagertha had to leave. It is hard to love Ragnar, to be with him. It would have been easier to have never kissed him to have been repressed and while denied those moments of thrilling true happiness he could have saved himself this particular burden.
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He leaned back in his chair, dragging both hands down his face. Pushing himself to his feet, he made his way into the living room and sat down on the floor in front of the couch so he could finally look Athelstan in the eye.
His lips parted, but he ended up sighing again and rolling his eyes at himself, at all of this. It was all so frustrating.
"How can I know what you want from me, if you will not tell me," He gave him a pleading look, though it was obvious how uncomfortable he felt being this open and vulnerable. He studied his finger for a moment, the blood caked under his fingersnails, and then looked back up at Athelstan, searching his face.
"You said before... that... you did not care," He went to reach for Athelstan's hand, but stopped himself, instead he started toying with the seam of the couch cushion, "Talk to me. I do not want to lose you and my son in one night... Please..."
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"I won't ask things of you that you cannot give. I know how that turns out for people," Athelstan whispers and he's thinking of Lagertha again. He reaches to take his hand. Somehow it aches to do so.
He forces a smile then. "You can never lose me. I'm always by your side, I'll always follow you. I always choose you. And you only lose your son if you're too big a fool to right things no matter who's at fault or who's childish."
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"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.
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"If I told you, I would either always wonder if you'd come to resent me or I would be... I would know that you couldn't," the correct words are hard to find but he does his best. "My happiness is not your responsibility. Some questions are better left unasked and unanswered. Doesn't the seer always warn about too much knowledge?
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With a quiet exhale, he eased backward to lay down, closing his eyes for a beat before opening them to stare up at the dark ceiling.
"The knowledge of what your lover expects in your relationship?" He asked with a sigh, at least his tone was light, almost teasing. At this point, he didn't know what to do, "No, Athelstan, the Seer has never warned me of such things."
His happiness was not Ragnar's responsibility... then why did it feel like his unhappiness was his fault?
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"Wouldn't it pain you if I asked more of you than you could give?" Athelstan says softly. "Know that my desire for you is never quenched, my l-... my affection immeasurable and my ability to vex you is unceasing and infinite."
He finishes with a slow smile. In a way, he has honestly told Ragnar what he wants, just not in terms that force a decision or that require the acknowledgment that a question had even been asked.
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He shakes his head, once again finding his own fingers extremely interesting.
"I do not understand why you would... want this. Why you..." He shrugged a little, "...Tolerate me. Especially when you are so... you."
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He sighs, Ragnar makes this difficult but he supposes that he makes it no easier. That is happiness seems so fragile is not a good thing for either of them and yet he doesn't know how to repair it but to do his best to keep on. Time has proven to help many things in his life.
"When I am so me?" he questions.
The questions posed are ones that he can't answer clearly without using a word he carefully avoids using. In the years he lived with lagertha and Ragnar he had never once heard Ragnar say it even though it was clear he loved her deeply and she had tried but a simply yes had never been something offered. There's a rueful smile as he realizes that maybe that sort of admission might be a salve to the wound he has. How many lovers had Ragnar been willing to say that to? He's certain that Aslaug had never had Ragnar's heart.
"Why do you tolerate me?"
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A soft, tired smile tugged at his lips for a moment when Athelstan asked for clarification. He thought that part was fairly clear.
"Yes. You are so you. You are so... -I can't imagine anyone not wanting you," Telling Athelstan he was perfect didn't even start to do him justice. Perfect sounded boring and Athelstan was endlessly fascinating to Ragnar.
"I do not tolerate you, priest," He sighed, again falling into a long stretch of conflicted silence, "I need you. I want you here with me. Always."
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Athelstan smiles because it's easy to believe that Ragnar needs him. He's seen Ragnar through a lot of trials, ones that Ragnar has not yet lived. "You will never be denied what you need and want," he promises.
Perhaps, talking of his own want and happiness is difficult but if he strips it down to his needs it is easier. "All I need is you, Ragnar, and a world to explore."
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He'd given it some thought and was still perplexed that Athelstan saw anything in him. Unlike Athelstan, these thoughts had never really been about self worth, but about what he was possibly offering to the monk aside from a vaguely safe place amongst the Vikings, and even that was debatable. To learn that Athelstan had returned to England and then still chosen him confused Ragnar. He had always felt a strangely deep connection between them. Some days he might even call if fate bound. But when given the chance to return to England, he wouldn't have guessed the monk would've looked back.
He sat back up, leaning forward to rest his chin on the couch cushion, looking up at Athelstan.
"That, I can give you," Though he still feared it wouldn't be enough.
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It is certainly true. With Judith the lust had been there but he never desired her to leave her husband. He never wanted more than the one time and that had been a mistake itself. He hadn't wanted dodger, not in any honest or real way.
"That's all I can ask of you."
Then he hesitates, his fingers toying with the bracelet again. "I don't..." He starts and then stops although its only to try and formulate his words carefully. "I don't want to know anymore," he finally says. Perhaps it's a juvenile method to create a bubble, a world that's a half truth thats fully believed. "About anyone. Can you try..." It isnt ragnar s fault or any thing of his doing that had brought the revelation of dodger. In the question are unspoken requests that follow the logical path of if he didnt want to know of Ragnar's lovers.
In truth, given the choice athelstan would take any opportunity to erase the knowledge from his mind but such miracles don't exist.
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"Even... if it was a woman?" He tried, since that seemed to make some kind of difference to Athelstan, "Would you not prefer to hear it from me than be surprised? Just... a name?"
He wasn't sure what he was hoping for between them. Nothing maybe. Maybe it was ridiculous to hope any of this would work out. But at least knowing who it was had to be better than finding out by accident.
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"That's fine," he said after a moment of thought. Really, maybe dodger is the only one that hurts or maybe any man would have. He doesnt know and he doesn't really want to find out. He knows that Ragnar can never be his the way that he is Ragnar's and he could never ask it of him. Itd be like caging a bird.
"I am sorry I'm difficult," he murmurs.
"You should properly clean up and take care of these wounds."
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He paused, shaking his head at Athelstan when he apologized, "You have nothing to apologize for. Not when it comes to," He motioned between them, "This. Us."
At the mention of his injuries, he turned his hand slightly, frowning a little when he saw that his hand still seemed to be bleeding.
"I may need you to sew that. It is deep. The others are nothing and this is just an annoyance... but a bloody one," He pointed out, making a face.
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Athelstan still feela guilty despite that assurance. There's the desire to be able to mold himself to be just right but then again thats not what Ragnar would want of him and Athelstan has too many principles for it to work anyway. If he could change who he is he would have changed long ago.
"First we need to get all of them clean and clean clothes and then I will tend to it."
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He sighs happily like he couldn't ask for anything more in a woman.
Ragnar reluctantly pushed himself to his feet with a quiet exhale of pain, wishing Athelstan would agree to just let him ignore all of this until the morning. Maybe everything except for his palm. But he knew the monk would insist on trying to clean him up.
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Ragnar just had a way with women, obviously.
Athelstan stands. "Do you need my help to get cleaned up?" he questions, somewhere along the lines he'd started to sober up. Perhaps it's out of necessity to settle the peace between them or maybe it's just wearing off. There's a twinge of pain starting but he ignores it in favor of making sure Ragnar doesn't just go to bed with dirty and untended wounds.
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