Chapter Text
Thorfinn leaned back on the chair, bouncing his leg. He watched the other kid he just beat the shit out of leave with their parent like five minutes ago, and he had no interest in making conversation with the guidance counselor.
Where the fuck is Askeladd. He’s tired, and at this point he already knew he’s about to get sent home.
The bruise on his lower lip hurt. The more he licked his lip it did little to numb the sting and he tasted blood on it.
“Thorfinn?” Another voice called out from the doorway.
He didn’t say anything, knowing already. “Your dad is here to see you.”
“Your dad is here to see you, my ass.” He mumbled under his breath. Unfortunately the poor guidance counselor heard that.
“Sorry I’m late!” Askeladd rushed in, this man had a latte in his fucking hand. “You know, just… phew, traffic!”
Thorfinn picked up his backpack and turned around, not making eye contact with him. “But you had time to go to Starbucks.” he sneered, brushing past him.
“My apologies.” Askeladd sweetly apologized to the staff that basically held him hostage for the past hour.
“Oh, don’t worry about it. We’ll see him again soon.” The teacher who informed Thorfinn of his dad’s presence saw them off. Yeah, Thorfinn agreed to that too.
Askeladd’s oh so beguiling demeanor faded the second they left the school building. “What’d you do this time, Thorfy?”
“Put a sock in it, dick.” Thorfinn scowled. “Some fuckhead called my hair a mop today.”
“That’s a little less creative than I expected.”
Thorfinn glared at him. “So I hit him with a chair.”
“Hmm.” Askeladd hummed, “how’d he take it?”
“He cried.”
“Ah, thatta boy.” Askeladd laughed, “Surprisingly this is only the what, third fight at your new school?”
“Three and a half.” Thorfinn muttered, “last kid pissed his pants and ran away to the playground.”
“Okay, as much as I don’t mind you play fighting with other kids at school—”
“—it’s not play-fighting.”
“You never liked it when I said bullying.”
“It’s not bullying either.” Thorfinn didn’t bully other kids. If anything, people liked to say shit about him that got him pissed off. He’s aware he’s gotten suspended more than a normal amount (as if suspension was supposed to be common, uncle Thorkell said it was because he also did— Asgeir said it wasn’t common) and was known for transferring schools due to fighting to avoid the risk of expulsion on his record, because Askeladd was such a kind influential businessman the staff wanted to kiss his ass and avoid getting sued in favor of ignoring the complaints from other teachers, parents, and students that their child was throwing hands with a degenerate.
Usually Askeladd’s excuse was that Thorfinn wanted to fight everyone, he’s a teenage kid. (“Is it supposed to be called emo?” “God, if you don’t shut up old man.”) Surely if he kept sweet-talking them (with money, a no-brainer) their eyes would sparkle and they’d agree to not do shit about it. So yeah, Askeladd was pretending Thorfinn was an angel of a son for the sake of keeping him in at least, a single school to avoid homeschooling him. If Askeladd had to homeschool him Thorfinn would end up biting him like he did in grade school.
He didn’t know how to control his emotions and sometimes punching things didn’t solve all your problems. In Thorfinn’s case— it did if it meant people shutting the fuck up.
“Not even two weeks at this school.” Askeladd whistled, “well that’s a world-record. It ain’t the best one on the block either so I don’t blame you.”
Like he ever gave a shit about sending him off to a private school or boarding school when he clearly had the money to pay for it. Thorfinn refused when the suggestion came up the first time, because he’d end up fighting somebody there too. It’s inevitable.
His therapist told him that this was just a thing that’d fade away once he graduated and high school wasn’t a good time for everybody. Thing is, Thorfinn didn’t give a shit about school in general. Why was he obligated to care about the shithole that came after this one? He’s only going here because he’s forced to, not because it’s convenient. Yet his teachers liked to praise him for doing so well when he felt like it and constantly remind him about his hidden potential.
“Hope I don’t get expelled from this one.” Thorfinn joked.
“You could at least make one friend.”
“No.”
“Find a nerd to bully, or something.”
Every social clique just avoided him or wanted to talk to him as little as possible. It’s not because they were scared of him, most people were just annoying. Most. The only person Thorfinn could tolerate was probably Bjorn and that was because he wasn’t an annoying shithead like everyone else he knew. Which wasn’t much to begin with.
Sometimes he didn’t understand why him and Askeladd were friends, the old man was insufferable.
“Hurry up.” Thorfinn got in the passenger seat, shutting the door behind him. “Being here is suffocating.”
“Not until you buckle your seatbelt first.” Askeladd reminded him.
“Don’t tell me what to do.” Thorfinn buckled his seatbelt anyway.
“...Say, are you sure you don’t wanna make any friends?”
Thorfinn was surprised he even cared. “Put this in the coaster for me.” Askeladd gestured to the coaster next to the stick shift. Thorfinn snatched it from him. “It’s a caramel latte, wanna try it?”
“No.” Thorfinn did, but no way in Hell was he going to drink from Askeladd’s cup. He put it in the coaster.
“Which question are you answering?”
“Does it matter?”
“It’s just strange how all the years you been goin’ to school for you never befriended anybody.”
Thorfinn shrugged. “I don’t like people.”
“You won’t get anyone to like you back that way.” Glaring at people just came easier to avoid interaction.
“How did you make friends?” Thorfinn immediately regretted asking that once Askeladd got into that same fucking spiel about oh back in my day I had to work hard because everyone doubted me, just like they doubt you—
“Nevermind—” Thorfinn gritted out, “forget I asked.”
Askeladd gave him that shit-eating grin and cackled, “anyway, it’s different for me. In case you’re wondering.”
“I’m literally not.”
“You don’t make friends the same way you do now. They’re just colleagues. Co-workers.”
“Bjorn is not a colleague.”
Askeladd cleared his throat, “well he is because we work in the same branch—”
“—you were friends in high school.”
“I can’t use him as an example of both a colleague and a friend?”
Bjorn came over literally every other morning so they could carpool to work together, sometimes he tagged along to drop Thorfinn off at school while he had to listen to him and Askeladd talk and giggle about shit— he came to every family gathering, all of Thorfinn’s school events that of which he participated in against his will. Yet Bjorn was just a colleague, okay then.
This was basically like the bastard’s second house, when he had his own fancy ass flat he lived in— which he ignored completely to come over to their house.
“What is your point anyway?”
“I’m just sayin’!”
“Don’t need you telling me what’s good for me.”
Askeladd sighed, leaning back. Thorfinn frowned. The Hell was up with him today?
“...You think your dad would’ve liked it if this is what you did with your life? I mean, I doubt Ylva or Helga do either. I'm very good friends with them."
"They fucking hate you." He's only just recently gotten in contact with them since the accident and they're still accepting the fact that Askeladd decided he'd take custody to "take the weight" off their shoulders, worst decision Thorfinn couldn't decide for himself. But they're literally across the country right now.
"They love me. I'm the nicest person they've ever met because I'm doing them a favor and taking your crazy ass off their hands." Askeladd argued.
“Don’t.” They were not doing this. Absolutely fucking not.
“Fighting kids at school? Getting suspended?”
“Thorkell says it’s good to get suspended at least once.”
“...I mean, we’ve all been there. But you get what I mean.”
“Living with you is not what I wanted to do with my life.” But he didn’t have a choice after the accident and he was left orphaned up until Askeladd and Bjorn waltzed in— decided maybe they wanted to take a six year old problem child into custody just because they wanted to suffer, who the fuck knew the reason. Not that Thorfinn preferred to stay at the orphanage either— but it wasn’t under Askeladd’s roof.
“Look on the bright side, you get to be around normal kids your age! But then…” Askeladd let out a dramatic sigh and gestured to Thorfinn, “You’re not normal!”
“Fuck off.” Thorfinn jeered. He’s not wrong, and he didn’t have any rebuttal for that.
“Someone called your hair a mop today.”
“I hit that person with a chair.” He didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of his hair. He washed it when convenient. He didn’t see what was wrong with it. “If you trick me into going to a barber shop again I will bite you.”
“You don’t want handsome hair like mine?”
“Your hair is ugly, the same as your face.”
“Oh, Thorfy…”
“Don’t call me that.”
“For once I’m making a pretty tame suggestion in my opinion and yet it never works.” Unfortunately Thorfinn was the type of the person to do things on his own and fuck up miserably instead of asking for help. He’d rather stab himself with his shiv he carried around than ask Askeladd for genuine advice. But the same went for anyone.
It’s not that Askeladd hadn’t tried many times to help Thorfinn get his shit together. Whether it be telling him not to wear the same shirt for three days in a row to school or not to blast his music out loud and slam his door shut when people are over, buy him at least decent clothes that weren’t dirty or tattered (Thorfinn argued he washed them) and he’d just end up hoarding new clothes in his drawer and continue wearing the old ones that he fought Askeladd for to not send to GoodWill as of Bjorn’s request.
“I’m not being homeschooled.”
“We already decided that wasn’t an option.” Askeladd said. “I mean. I get it. You don’t like me. I’m still figurin’ out how to make this work. Can you blame me for being tired we have to run around and do all this nonsense?”
Thorfinn never asked him to pay hundreds of dollars just to keep his ass in a classroom— not even to pay off school lunch debt or other expenses, it’s to make sure that the staff didn’t immediately settle with expulsion because there’s always a complaint one way or the other.
If he just ran away to become a nomad in the fields somewhere far, far away— he wouldn’t have to worry about algebra homework being due the next day. He wished history wasn’t exactly what it was. In the past. Sounded like fighting to the death as vikings would rather be much simpler than the pythagorean theorem. He thought about the homework he had due piling up and wanted to smash his head open with a textbook. None of this was fucking necessary. Was he going to prove a triangle existed anytime in the near future? Absolutely the fuck not. What knowledge would he ever use solving binomials for? Nothing.
It didn’t make any fucking sense and yet Askeladd said if he went to college for business then he could finish high school and figure out what the fuck he wanted to do with his life. It’s normal to have crises in life, just look at Thorkell— he said, he’s a walking existential crisis and yet he managed to become a P.E teacher. Thorfinn just thought he scared somebody shitless into giving him that job because he’s surprised kids want to step a foot near that man and not shit themselves in general. He can’t even walk in a building without hitting his head on the ceiling.
“Can I drop out?” Thorfinn asked nicely.
“Nice try.” Askeladd started up the car. Thorfinn pouted. Well, it was worth a shot.
Something was up with Askeladd.
Normally, Thorfinn just ignored him whenever he’d start acting weird like that. Like when he’d want to take Thorfinn out for some quality father-son bonding time— which Thorfinn despised doing. He’d get all excited and had the audacity to demand that they go out and that he didn’t spend his weekend playing video games all day.
The most fatherly thing he’s done was offer to buy him happy meals when he had a shitty day at school.
He did it again when he was playing video games online when he heard a knock on his door, first, he ignored it because he had headphones on— and then he heard someone shout, “THORFINN KARLSEFNI-CASTUS—” and God fucking damn it—
Thorfinn ripped his headphones off and threw it at the television.
“WHAT?!”
“Get ready.” Askeladd’s standing at the doorway like the motherfucker that he was, “We have a very important dinner with my boss tonight.”
“You’re telling me because?!”
“Get off the video game.”
“Fuck you I’m still playing.”
Askeladd didn’t give a fuck. Most of the time he’d leave Thorfinn be if he didn’t want to do anything asked of him, the exception being chores, but if this was urgent he wasn’t taking no for an answer. Storming over and pulling the plug on the television just as Thorfinn was in the middle of a match.
“What the fuck?!”
“C’mon, kid. Can’t afford to miss out on this damn meeting because of video games.”
“I was in the middle of—”
“—Shut it.” Askeladd silenced him, “get dressed.”
“I’m not going to your stupid dinner. Go by yourself.”
Askeladd laughed. “Okay. Unless you want me to take away your console—”
“—what—” Thorfinn gawked, “—you weren’t even the one who bought this for me! Thorkell did!”
“It’s still under my roof, so!” Askeladd shrugged with nonchalance, “I can take it away if I wanna.”
“Bullshit.”
“I will and you won’t get it back until Christmas.”
Thorfinn fucking hated this family.
“Be down in fifteen minutes.” Askeladd ordered, “oh, I’d suggest you shower again since you got back from school a couple hours ago.”
“Fuck you old man.” Thorfinn left his bedroom to head toward the bathroom.
“And wear a suit!” Askeladd chimed in. Thorfinn ignored him. He took the quickest shower he could muster since he didn’t have much fucking time on his hands— but he didn’t think this was worth getting ready for. He ignored all the clean suits in his closet and went for a plain shirt and jeans to wear with a leather jacket with the only pair of converses he had worn out at the soles.
He registered this was why Askeladd was dressed up all nice and swank in his blazer and cravat, it was for this dinner shit. Thorfinn descended the staircase and Askeladd was in the middle of a busy phone call, his eyes landed on Thorfinn in immense distraught.
“I’ll see you there, sir, yes we’re on our way.” He hung up, “there’s no way in Hell you’re wearing that.”
“I’m not wearing a suit.” Thorfinn grumbled.
“Thorfinn.” Oh, not Thorfy this time huh.
“You know I hate wearing those.” Thorfinn refused. They’re tight and itchy, plus it was still hot because it was in the middle of September. No way in fucking Hell was he going to wear that shit— he had no idea how Askeladd could wear suits every single day for work without suffocating.
“This is a dinner with my boss.” Askeladd said.
“I’m coming to this stupid shit, aren’t I?” Thorfinn compromised, “unless you want me to plug my shit back in no way I’m wearing a suit.”
Askeladd sighed. “You—” he clicked his tongue, “God damn little brat.”
Thorfinn said what he said.
“Let’s go.” Askeladd said.
“How long is this supposed to take?”
“As long as it needs to be.”
“I should get something out of this, baldy.” Thorfinn insisted. “At least for you ruining my game I was winning.”
Askeladd opened the door, throwing on his coat. Thorfinn walked out the door, Askeladd shutting it behind him.
“I give you everything you want.”
“Bjorn’s the one who gets me stuff because you don’t even know what to get me.” His birthday he received an Olive Garden coupon because he thought that was what’s hip these days. Thorfinn gave it to Thorkell at Christmas and said he could go hog wild with it. He got his favorite t-shirts, video games, and history books because he might’ve told Bjorn he liked them. Only because he asked what was in his collections one day anyways and guessed from there.
Askeladd laughed, “I mean— you could always tell me if you wanted anything! Of course I’d give it to you.”
“Shove it. I want something I want and not a happy meal toy you pulled out your ass last minute.”
“Okay, I’ve got money. You know I landed that big job after I got fired from the last one.” Thorfinn never heard the end of that up until someone fell for his sorry ass’ charms.
“A motorcycle.”
“...You sure you don’t want an action figure?”
“I turn eighteen in a few weeks, dipshit!”
“Hmm.” Askeladd stroked his chin, “well what type?”
“Harley Davidson.”
“Well those certainly don’t come cheap.”
“I’m sure you said that to the people you roped into your pyramid scheme you got busted for.” Thorfinn mumbled. He’s surprised the bastard’s not in jail like some of the people in their family whom he knew related to mafia shit, he’s positive it was.
“If you’re gonna go with me dressed like that, I gotta take what I can get.” Askeladd agreed to it.
“That better be a promise.” Thorfinn said.
“Can’t guarantee anything ‘till you make a good impression. These are really important people. Rich family. Make the boss like me and gimme that promotion? Good money for me!”
Thorfinn’s pretty sure Askeladd worked his way up the ranks already given the money he’s making. Guess he wanted to go bigger since he had to start over again.
“Why the fuck am I tagging along then?” He asked heatedly.
“You’ll see.” Askeladd grinned sinisterly.
Thorfinn wanted to spend a shitty day being sent home from school shouting at noobs through a headset— now he’s spending it sitting at a dinner table with a guy Thorfinn’s never seen have so many fucking pimples on his face.
He might’ve mistaken him for a homeless man if it weren’t for him being well-dressed and the way Askeladd shook hands with him when they entered the building. It’s a posh restaurant, and everyone here dressed formally. Thorfinn knew people were eyeing them down, him in particular— once again, he’d just glare right back at them. Like he wanted to fucking be here.
There’s another person with them, though. Someone standing beside the pimple-faced old dude.
His hair a resplendent shade of golden it even shimmered under the bright chandeliers. He was almost standing behind the man, who Thorfinn would presume was Askeladd’s boss. Hiding, that is.
Bright blue eyes made eye contact with Thorfinn, hands shoved in the pockets of his jacket. Jeez, he understood he was underdressed severely. He’s wearing a red blouse, a beige coat, dark pants, and black shoes. He noticed that they had heels on them because he stepped away from the boss when he coaxed him to introduce himself.
“This is Mr. Sweynson my boss. Mr. Sweynson, this is my son Thorfinn I was telling you about!” God, Thorfinn cleared his throat. The biggest attempt he’s ever done was greeting someone professionally. Askeladd gestured over to him.
“Hey.” Askeladd nudged his arm. “H-Hello, Mr. Sweynson…” Thorfinn nodded, hiding his annoyance by ducking his head.
“Hello Thorfinn. You could call me Sweyn if you like.” Thorfinn was sure he wouldn’t be able to last addressing him by that with a straight face. “I’m sure you’ve probably met my son Canute! He goes to Vinland!”
Wait.
“Um,” Canute stretched a hand, his voice gentle, bashful— still holding a little firmness, “Nice to meet you Thorfinn.”
“You go to Vinland?” Thorfinn asked, and his genuine confusion and outburst startled Canute. Askeladd smacked him on the back of his head.
“Where the Hell is your damn manners, kid? This is my boss we’re speakin’ to.” He gritted out threateningly.
“It was just a question!” Thorfinn hissed, and he looked at Canute again— backing away just a step out of caution. He didn’t realize he was glaring because that was his face by default. “I just. Didn’t, know. I guess.” he was too stunned to accept his handshake.
“Well then!” Askeladd motioned them toward the dinner table, “well shall we? Come now.”
Askeladd and Sweyn were the first to take their seats— and Askeladd motioned Canute’s way for Thorfinn. But Thorfinn wasn’t understanding his signal here.
“Be a gentleman, would you? Make a damn good impression.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to—”
“Take his coat for him or push his chair back.”
Thorfinn was about to ask why but he just sat down and ignored his confused look. Thorfinn stared at Canute, who stared back at him, blinking.
“Take off your jacket.”
“O-Okay.”
Thorfinn yanked his chair back as well, hard enough a short screech stretched across the room and broke the pleasant silence of everyone else who came here to dine. Askeladd looked like he was about to murder him, and Sweyn’s just staring, puzzled. But he didn’t seem to mind much, nothing more than a concerned glance.
Canute handed his coat to Thorfinn. “Thank you.” he smiled. The gloss on his lips. Thorfinn quickly snatched the jacket away, feeling his cheeks heat up for some odd reason. Canute took his seat, and Thorfinn put the coat on the chair— remembering to go to his seat next to Askeladd.
If he’s being honest— he couldn’t give a damn about what the two men were talking about at the table. It’s definitely related to work, that was, but he realized he hadn’t eaten anything since lunch and it didn’t help that the waiter offered menus and he didn’t know a damn thing on here.
Askeladd seemed to read his mind, knowing he was hopeless. He said they’d just get the same thing, as long as it was good, Thorfinn just shrugged.
“Good choice.” Sweyn laughed, “I have been here a few times, sometimes I like to switch things up.”
“Good to know we fancy similar tastes.” Askeladd marveled. He nudged Thorfinn whenever he tried to look at his phone to pass the time. He didn’t know where else to look, given Canute’s just looking elsewhere and whenever they’d make eye contact he’d look away because Thorfinn glared into his soul.
Apparently he had to eat properly if he made a good impression as well. He might’ve heard a quiet snort coming from Canute’s direction when he looked up, aggravated, but he’s scolded quietly by Askeladd before he’s able to say anything.
“What’s next, if I go to the bathroom I have to wipe my God damn ass with a handkerchief?” Thorfinn jeered at Askeladd, hushed. Askeladd was eating in a way Thorfinn never saw him eat at home in his damn life. He’s not as much as a messy eater as Thorkell, that man had no mercy at the dinner table it was disgusting how nonexistent his manners were (not that Thorfinn had any either) but there’s no way he learned up proper dining etiquette in one night and mastered that skill so easily.
He’s really trying to please this old fart.
Askeladd took Thorfinn’s handkerchief and tossed it in his lap, “you used that to wipe your hands.” he said, irked. “Might not be how we do it at home but get used to it, and smile a little, would you? Sweyn doesn’t need to know you got a stick shoved up your ass.”
“Choke.” Thorfinn glowered, taking a sip out of his water. Askeladd chuckled, easily answering to something Sweyn was talking about, “yes, yes of course!”
Canute was a slow-eater, and reminded Thorfinn of a snail the way he sliced through his duck breast. Thorfinn wasn’t supposed to finish his entire plate, because Askeladd warned him to slow the Hell down.
The dinner dragged on for way longer than it needed to be.
Askeladd and Sweyn just keep fucking talking about bullshit. Thorfinn fidgeted, relieved when they handled the bill and rounded up to leave the place. They’re still talking, though. He noticed Canute looking at him.
“What?” he glared.
“N-Nothing. Just. Why are you not…?”
“I said I’m not wearing a suit.”
“That’s against the dress code here.”
“You got a problem with that?”
“Thorfinn!” Askeladd placed a hand on Thorfinn’s back, and he clapped it hard. “Bonding already, I see!”
“We’re not.” Thorfinn scowled, shoving his hands in his pockets. He pretty much just insulted his greaser get-up. They probably still allowed him in because of Sweyn, but at least he managed to slip past dress code formalities. He didn’t do fancy dinners. Thorkell preferred to go to Red Lobster.
“I thank you for attending this dinner with us. Canute and I are extremely pleased.” Sweyn told them both. “And Thorfinn, you and Canute should get acquainted with each other. I’m sure he’d be happy to make new friends. He’s quite popular.”
Thorfinn barely paid attention to anyone to pick up on that fact— let alone the fact that Canute went to his school. He looked like he went to a catholic school, or a private, at least. What the Hell’s he doing at Vinland? It didn’t add up. Not with his clean image and record.
Canute cleared his throat, eyeing Thorfinn. “Thorfinn.” he said, curt. “I’ll… I’ll be seeing you.”
“I won’t.” Thorfinn replied with a scoff, then he walked away. Askeladd’s apologizing to Sweyn with a laugh, saying he’s also shy and didn’t know how to communicate with peers his age because he didn’t get along with them too much.
For some reason, Thorfinn could still smell the jasmine from when he took Canute’s coat from him earlier.
It smelt nice.
He was absolutely disgusted, admitting that at all.
This dinner was a waste of time alright.