Chapter Text
The reminder that there was a boy with his hair, eyes, and name out there dampened Thorfinn’s mood for a good while afterwards.
He helped unload the knarr, of course, and load up the wagon Leif had rented for the next few day’s market run. He watched as Canute handed off the bolt of patterned cloth to Leif, though being up near the wagon, he couldn’t hear what they were saying beyond vague sounds. Leif put the bolt under his arm and helped Canute onto the dock with his free hand, smiling approvingly all the while. Canute even seemed to smile back, though it was small and fleeting, and he seemed to distract himself from it by swiping off invisible dirt from the long skirt of his green overshirt. Leif must be teaching Canute about merchanting and trading too, and it looked like he’d done something right. Thorfinn couldn’t really find it in him to feel second-hand happiness about it. Why should he, after all? Since he was only here by Loki’s stupid version of luck.
Things looked to be getting worse when Leif announced to him that instead of doing any trade today himself, Thorfinn and Canute should have a wander about the stalls and get to know each other.
“You’ve done enough watching and listening to me talk about what I do. You two are our youngest and newest, so I think it’d be a good idea to build a good relationship. We’re all trading partners, after all!”
And then Leif had given Thorfinn the same smile he did when he first sat himself on the boat, big and bright and nearly downright fatherly, and Thorfinn caved.
“Here-” Leif held up a finger as he patted his side down, finding his purse and shaking out a few coins, “This is for you both. Split it, get a good deal, and then come back to me and tell me how it went. Consider it your first bit of work.”
Leif placed the coins in Thorfinn’s open palms like they were nothing. Like they were nothing when these three coins were the most money Thorfinn had ever seen in his entire life. The weight of them scalded a hole in his palms. Thorfinn’s eyes must be bugging right out of his head, especially so for Leif to be laughing again. He finally peeled his gaze away from the money when he felt Leif pat his shoulder, ending it in an encouraging grip and friendly little jostle.
“Lord, but do you have big eyes, lad. Go on, then,” another pat, “Off you go with Nuta!”
“Y- yes, sir! I mean, yes, I mean- sure! Or- here I go, okay!” Rather stiffly, Thorfinn made sure the coins were as secure and safe as they could be in his own purse, it having already been tied to the belt Leif had given him along with his other new clothes. He suddenly felt a strange, ambient sense of guilt settle across the back of his brain. He needed to do Leif proud.
They parted at the same time, Leif to their stall and Thorfinn shuffling around to amble in the general direction of where Canute was, which turned out to be nearly right behind him. The shock of him being there made Thorfinn jump, which in turn made Canute jump, and for a single moment of startled eye contact, Thorfinn swore he saw some kind of solidarity. Or maybe it was pity.
Might as well get it over with.
“Er-,” Thorfinn straightened up and cleared his throat, “So, since we’re… uh…” he gestured between them with a hand, “Co-workers, I guess, um, Mr Leif said to-”
“I heard.” Canute interrupted, and then seemed to realize that he had, which made his cheeks turn a blotchy pink as he looked away. He sure does do a whole lot of blushing and looking away, thought Thorfinn before he tried again.
“Oh, okay good. So… off we go, I guess..?” he cringed, wishing he’d sounded more confident but thankful that Canute was still looking down towards their boots. His blue eyes darted back and forth a little before he risked a glance back up Thorfinn.
“Let me get my…,” he mumbled, voice trailing off as he skirted around Thorfinn to get at his corner of the wagon. He pulled out that now familiar white kerchief from a satchel and tied his hair up with it. He seemed to fuss with himself for a little longer than what Thorfinn thought was necessary, but he didn’t know what ergi did. Maybe that level of fuss was typical for him.
Regardless, he waited until Canute was done and already walking past him. Canute wasn’t looking at him again, instead focusing on pinning his light blue cloak closed. His long, wheat-yellow hair was now tied up in a tail, the fringe that usually fell into his eyes pushed back in a somewhat hasty way. A few tufts of it curled straight up away from his head and over the kerchief in the seaside breeze and Thorfinn nearly caught himself thinking it was cute before he remembered that Canute was a man. He felt his face get hot about it anyway, which in turn made him frown and remember that he was going to be stuck in this awkward forced bonding exercise with Canute for the next couple of days while Leif and the freemen did their jobs.
Their jobs. Oh, did Thorfinn wish he had a job instead of… whatever this assignment was.
But he couldn’t let Mr Leif down. He just couldn’t, not after he gave him his freedom and new clothes and good food and actual, real life money to be in charge of. Wrong Thorfinn or not, he’ll make Leif happy he bought him. He’ll make himself worth it. His freedom must have cost them a substantial something, after all. He was a tall norse man with a sturdy-looking frame, he’d heard the slavers say time and again that those types of slaves could sell for a lot. Sturdy-looking men and young women, two types of people who at the very least had a base monetary value to set a merchant like Mr Leif back a fair way, and he was definitely one of those types.
And here he was following Canute around intending to spend more of Leif’s money. The arm of guilt that was draped around his shoulder gave him a squeeze to remind him it was there.
“-finn. T- Thorfinn?”
“Huh? Uh, what?” Canute’s voice snapped him out of his dark spiral. The other young man was staring up at him with those big eyes, a little apprehensively.
“I- I asked about how much coin Mr Leif gave us?”
“Oh, three! Three coin. Or, no, I mean-,” he squeezed his eyes shut in a grimace, embarrassed as he untied his coin purse to show Canute. He could count, he absolutely could, just like he could construct proper sentences. He let Canute take the pouch from him to inspect it, presumably counting how much money they actually had before he nodded and passed it back. Thorfinn took it rather dumbly and tied it back onto his belt.
“Okay. We have enough for something I need, which is a new sewing needle. Those don’t cost much. Is there anything you need?”
This was the most Canute had ever spoken to him. This realization took up most of his brain as the rest of it wracked itself trying to think of anything he could possibly need, or even want.
“Err… no, I don’t think so.”
Canute seemed to take this.
“Is there anything you want?” he said, tilting his head to the side along with his question, like he was encouraging a nervous kid even though Thorfinn was nearly a whole head taller than him. He’d put emphasis on ‘want’, but was there anything Thorfinn wanted? He spent a moment to wrack his brain again, though when the pondering silence went on for too long, Canute shuffled his feet and said,
“Okay, that’s fine. We can, um. We can look around.” his previous brief flash of confidence seemed to have passed, and thus he was back to mumbling again. Thorfinn let Canute turn to start down the street proper before nearly bumping into him again as Canute stopped to look at him over his shoulder.
“Uh- while we’re out, call me Nuta.”
Thorfinn tried not to make a foolish, foolish noise at the thought of calling Canute what was obviously his nickname. Instead of debating about it, he swallowed his embarrassment and squeezed out a, “Gotcha, right, okay good.”
And then they meandered as Leif wanted them to. Dully, as a distant afterthought while they walked, Thorfinn realized that that was the first time he’d heard Canute say his name.
----
The first purchase went well and smoothly. Canute picked out exactly one sewing needle, as he’d said he needed. It was incredibly delicate looking and sharp, spindly and made of metal, but the metalworker manning the stall insisted it was of the highest quality and durability. Canute nodded along and paid the merchant with the smallest coin, Thorfinn having handed him the pouch preemptively. No haggling, he evidently was all talked-out.
As this exchange happened, Thorfinn scanned over the rest of the display. The pieces were all beautiful, at least he thought so; more needles and pins, both for sewing and for hair, an assortment of rings, broaches, and Mjolnir pendants. There were even some chains to wear around the neck, the links both strong and delicate looking. Thorfinn hadn’t been able to wear much metal aside from shackles where the slavers had them available. Mostly it was rope, mostly it was slavers wearing crosses and hammers for their gods, iron belt buckles inlaid with another yellow-orange metal Thorfinn didn’t know the name of, rings and arm bands and beads hanging from broaches. Thorfinn wasn’t allowed decorative metal, but… now, he could be.
As he was eyeing a penannular brooch, plainer than the others but still attractive in a way that made his brain fuzzy at the edges with timid want, he heard the merchant make a noise of complaint before addressing Canute again, “Young lady, if you could keep your slave from staring I’d thank you very much”
The lovely fuzzy feeling that’d been gently unpicking his brain went still. Everything went still. He was all of a sudden a deer staring down an arrow. He was a kid again. He was a slave. Yeah, that's right, he was a slave- how he forgot he had no idea. He was about to step back to a safe and appropriate distance when Canute spoke, jolting him for a second time.
“And I’d thank you if you’d refrain from calling my partner a slave.”
Thorfinn couldn’t help himself -- he shrank away from both Canute and the merchant, trying hard not to full on flinch and screw up his face. He’d never heard Canute speak that firmly before, nor that clear and confidently. He almost sounded like a nobleman, and the merchant must have thought the same thing for he immediately folded, wringing his hands and smiling beseechingly at- oh hell, at both Canute and Thorfinn. Quickly, he started running through all the pros and cons of just bolting out of the market and into the sea.
“Err, o’ Lord,” The merchant looked at Thorfinn again, his weathered face a bit greyish now, “Forgive me, sir, it was an honest mistake. Shan't happen again, swear on the gods.” The man made a quick 4-way cross sign with his hand, though Thorfinn noted that it was with the wrong one. He decided not to point out the merchant’s deity confusion for ease of getting through this. The merchant gave Thorfinn a teeth-achingly hopeful grin, glancing back at Canute every so often. Canute held his chin up high, looking down his nose at the poor fool.
“Good enough. Thorfinn,” now Canute was looking at him. His pale brows were frowning, stern with a purpose, as he passed the coin purse back, “This is your money. Use it as you see fit.”
As he gingerly took the purse back, the merchant seemed to latch on harder to Thorfinn as another customer. It seemed to work in distracting the merchant from the misunderstanding, but it just made Thorfinn want to grind his teeth into stubbs. It was only then that they both seemed to realise the double-meaning of Canute’s word choice.
“Yes, please! Please take a look-- how about a ring for your beautiful wife? I’ve got one that’ll compliment her wonderfully!”
If he noticed Canute’s eyes get almost imperceptibly bigger, he’d never tell. He hoped Canute would never mention the air-escaping-through-a-small-hole noise Thorfinn made at the word ‘wife’, too. He swallowed hard and chanced talking.
“Uhh”, he said, dumbly. Real smart, like a real free man. Somehow, Canute stepped in with another save. Thorfinn was racking up debt faster than he could blink.
“You were eyeing that brooch,” he said, voice coming back down to what Thorfinn thought was his normal, gentle range, “you should get it. You’ll need one with a good pin for when we go back to Iceland, and Mr Leif said his home is even colder. You won’t want your cloak falling off.”
Thorfinn just stared at him, nodding along silently for a moment. “...Right, yeah. Yeah, good idea.”
He approached the stall properly, pointing out the plain-but-wonderful penannular brooch. “I’ll take this one.”
The merchant was all too happy for the transaction, all but shoving the brooch into the nearest pocket he could reach on Thorfinn, accepting the final two coins almost as an afterthought. He then pretended to busy himself with polishing an already polished wrist torc. Canute stepped away and started back down the street to the docks before Thorfinn could even put his shiny new brooch in a safe place. He had to run after him, brooch in hand.
“Hey, you, uh-” Thorfinn’s words died on his tongue. What could he even say? ‘Thank you for defending what scraps of honor I have? Not that I had much in the first place, being a thrall for most of my life n’ all. How can I repay you, person whom I barely know?’
That might’ve been a start. However, what came out was,
“Y- you didn’t correct him.” He did cringe this time, as he watched Canute’s shoulders start hiking up around his ears. Canute didn’t stop walking, but he did glance up at Thorfinn from over his shoulder. He was red up to his ears.
“Well, I mean, it’s a good cover.”
Before he could ask why they’d need cover for anything, and before they made it past their own stall, Leif had caught sight of them and was calling them back over. Thorfinn knew that at least one of them had to report back, he just hoped Canute would be merciful and not question why Thorfinn was going to choose to leave out the entire incident.