"Why.... would you think I would ever...?" He sunk down a little, easing down onto his knees from the crouch. Why did it feel like he needed a drink in order to understand what Athelstan was trying to tell him... or maybe it was the monk who could use the drink.

"Telling him to get off you is the same as telling him to stop, Athelstan. And he should have listened," He said softly, his tone ripe with disappointment. He knew Ivar hated Dodger, but the reasons he'd given hadn't really mattered much to Ragnar and Dodger had always been decent to him. But this... Was this who he truly was?

"Are you alright?" He asked, squeezing some of the fabric of Athelstan's pants in his hands nervously where his hand rested on his knee. He mostly meant physically because, obviously, he wasn't alright emotionally or mentally at the moment.