{Author's Note: So I wrote the majority of this right after I watched season 2 of Ragnarok, and I just never finished it for some reason; but Netflix recently notified me that season 3 of Ragnarok is now out—which wasn't on my radar at all—and I was inspired to finish this. The title is from the Imagine Dragons' song Giants. Obviously, this is an AU, so it doesn't follow season 2 let alone season 3, but this is just me keeping up the trend of writing father-son stories for some reason. Ignore any inconsistencies with Laurits having met Vidar before in the actual show, and pretend he hadn't met him yet when you start this story. Enjoy!}
Laurits?
Vidar had questioned Turid, amazed, when that bombshell had been dropped on his desk, even though he was the only child she could have meant. But still, it had seemed impossible the news she gave.
Giants couldn't have children with humans.
That was known.
That was a fact.
Except, apparently it wasn't. Or, perhaps it really was a miracle or fate. Whatever the case may be, ever since Vidar had learned the truth, he had felt as if he were walking on a cloud. Even Ran's obvious and over the top rejection of the very idea and declaration that the boy himself was an abomination hadn't been able to bring him down.
He had son.
A real son.
Vidar couldn't even recall a day before this revelation that he had felt quite this ecstatic. He wanted to drop everything he was doing and go see his son.
But he couldn't—or it wasn't that he couldn't, there was nothing anyone could stop him from doing—but Turid had asked him to wait before officially introducing himself to the boy, just a few days. She had said she needed some time to tell him the truth. Alone. In Vidar's opinion she had had quite enough time. Nearly seventeen years of it to be exact.
But he wasn't entirely heartless, at least not when it came to his son, so he would wait, as long as she did actually tell him within a few days.
His son!
He wanted to yell it from the rooftops, but Vidar was not an impulsive 'man'. This situation required a delicate touch. He would not get a do over. He could only make a first impression on his son once, so it needed to go perfectly, if he wanted the boy to come over to their side and accept him as a father, rather than simply fear him as Fjor and Saxa did.
At least, that had been his plan.
But that plan went out the window when, two days after the great reveal, he walked out of his office and literally ran right into the boy.
Vidar's first thought as he steadied Laurits, keeping him from falling over, was that Turid was right, the boy did have his eyes—well his human-looking ones—and Vidar wasn't sure what to do with that information or how to process it, so he said nothing at first.
Fjor looked like him, yes, but only because they were the same species and chose to present themselves as similar. Fjor and Saxa were his children in this particular lifetime true, but they weren't really his children, not in the human sense . . . not like Laurits was his child.
His son.
Laurits looked up at him expectantly and Vidar realized he had been staring in silence and holding him in place, hands on either side of his shoulders, for far too long.
Vidar blinked and dropped his hands, coughing slightly as he straightened himself up. Laurits seemed well aware of the fact that Vidar had realized he was behaving oddly, but instead of behaving how a normal individual would—or how all humans should react if they knew what he and the rest of his 'family' really were—Laurits merely smirked at him, as if he found it amusing that the older man had made a social faux pas.
"My apologies. I didn't see you there." Said Vidar, so much for a good first impression.
Laurits held up his hand in front of him, turned them over and back again, then patted down the front of his shirt. "S'alright. Still in one piece."
And then, to Vidar's dismay, the boy put his head phones back on and started to move to walk past Vidar, but before he could continue on his way, Vidar stepped back in front of him, blocking his path, recognizing even as he did it that it would at best seem controlling and at worst creepy.
But he couldn't undo the action, so he leaned into it instead.
"What are you listening to?" He asked, trying to casually glance at the boy's phone. Normally, he couldn't care less what music teenagers were into currently, but for some inexplicable reason, Vidar found himself asking the question anyway, wanting to know every one of his son's interests. And music seemed to be an important one to Laurits. Not that he had noticed the younger Seier boy much before Turid's momentous announcement, other than that he was often a small shadow trailing behind Magne, but from what he had noticed, the young man always seemed to have a pair of headphones hanging around his neck.
"You Need to Calm Down." Said Laurits.
What? He thought he was presenting a very non-threatening demeanor. Hadn't he perfected his mask over thousands of years of pretending for the humans?
That was Vidar's first thought before he realized Laurits was in fact answering his question. He hardly concerned himself with trying to stay current with the ever-changing music scene, opting, in more recent years, instead for what the humans would consider classical music. The fact was, all musicians, just like the rest of the humans, eventually perished, so why bother to learn their names? So, it was safe to say that Vidar had absolutely no idea what or who his son was talking about.
But Laurits, ever perceptive, apparently easily picked up on that fact for the boy elaborated, or at least, that's what Vidar thought he tried to do, but his explanation made about as much sense as the first response.
"You know, T-Swift." Said Laurits with a smirk that said he knew that Vidar absolutely did not know. "Taylor Swift."
"Right." Said Vidar with a slight narrowing of his eyebrows.
"Uh huh, yea I'm sure you know. Don't worry about it. If you knew who she was that'd be kind of weird. I don't think anyone over the age of thirty pays attention to artists that are younger than they are. But, if I had any, I'd put money on the fact that in a couple of years, even your generation will know who she is." Said Laurits with a huff of laughter and then he made to step around Vidar once more, but once again, Vidar stepped into his path, unwilling to let the boy leave.
Laurits gave Vidar a look that clearly said 'what the fuck, man?' but before he could voice the thought out loud, Vidar cut in.
"Would you like a tour?" Asked Vidar, for it was the only excuse he could think of to keep his son's company any longer.
Laurits looked rightfully taken aback by what probably seemed like a very strange interaction and an unprompted request.
"Do you even know who I am? Why do want to give me a tour?" Laurits understandably questioned.
Yes. You're my son.
"Yes, of course." Said Vidar, straightening his tie before he could stop himself. Vidar did not fidget. What was he doing?!
"You're Turid's son. And I believe you are friends with my children, Fjor and Saxa."
"I wouldn't say we're friends." Said Laurits, as he pulled at the front of his open jacket, much in the same manner that Vidar had just straightened his tie. "They hardly know me, and they've been doing their own thing recently."
"Yes, well, you've only just moved back. I'm sure you'll grow closer over time." If they accepted his presence in Vidar's life and if Fjor decided he wanted to be part of the family again. He was, in a certain way, their half-brother.
"At any rate, the offer of a tour still stands. You're mother has proven to be an excellent employee, I'm sure she'd be happy for you to see where she works and learn more about Jutul Industries."
A company that could be yours one day, if Vidar had anything to say about.
"Uh thanks, but I'll pass." Said Laurits, eyeing the space behind Vidar as if he were looking for an escape route or calculating whether he could dash around him without being stopped. "I'm just here to find my mom. We have literally zero food in the house, and she didn't leave money for dinner, so the only reason I'm here is to make sure she goes straight from work to the grocery store or to Edda Grillen. I'm not picky, just hungry."
Vidar frowned. A feeling of . . . distress coursing through him. His son had to resort to hunting down his mother at work in order to find something to eat? That was unacceptable. And how had he gotten here anyway? He wasn't old enough to drive, so he must have trekked all the way across town on foot, which would surely only have exacerbated his hunger.
Vidar felt a twinge of guilt flare up alongside the equally unfamiliar feeling of distress. His first action tomorrow would be to go to payroll and have them double whatever they were paying Turid, which undoubtedly had to be a dismal amount. Perhaps even triple it, though, maybe that would draw a little too much attention?
He would think on it. Maybe an unexpected bonus would be a better approach?
But did it even matter? Soon, he could tell the world that Laurits was his son.
"If it's food you want, there's a well-stocked café on the premises. We can stop by if you'd like." Vidar offered. He knew it was a shrewd and desperate ploy, tempting his son with a basic need in order to spend some time with him, but Vidar didn't care as long as it worked.
Laurits looked over his shoulder, perhaps searching for his mother, or maybe seeing if there was anything more entertaining to do than hang out with a middle age man—if that term was being applied loosely to someone of Vidar's makeup—who had proven in the last few minutes to be a bit unsettling. But whatever Laurits was looking for, he must not have found it because after a moment he shrugged.
"Alright I guess, but I don't have any money." Said Laurits, finally agreeing to Vidar's request, and making another peculiar and unfamiliar feeling rise in Vidar's chest. He was pleased that he'd finally succeeded in getting Laurits to agree to spend a bit more time with him, but given his own odd behavior in the past few minutes, he also wondered if he should be a bit concerned by Laurits' judgment skills. If he thought it was a good idea to hang around with a man he had just met—even if he knew Vidar's children—who had quite blatantly spent the last few minutes trying to keeping him from leaving his presence, then what other reckless decisions was he making? But no matter, that could be addressed at a later date. Vidar hoped he would have all the time in the world to teach his son things.
"That's not a problem. You're with me. It's on the house." And then Vidar gave Laurits what he hoped was a reassuring smile.
Vidar started the 'tour' by heading directly to the café, correctly assuming that Laurits would be more content to spend time with him if he actually delivered on the promise of food.
The moment they reached the café, one of his many assistants—one that was clearly trying to suck up to the boss due to the fact that he was still there this late in the evening—spotted Vidar and made a beeline toward him and Laurits.
"Good afternoon, sir. You don't usually come down to the café. May I grab something for you?" The young professional asked, completely ignoring Laurits, other than to give him a quick curious glance.
"Actually, yes." Said Vidar placing a hand on Laurits' shoulder. He immediately regretted it by the way Laurits raised his eyebrows, looking from Vidar's hand, up to his face, and back again. "Please help Laurits acquire whatever he would like. Put it on my tab."
Laurits took a precious second to give Vidar another suspicious look, but other than that, the boy did not hesitate to follow the worker—whose name Vidar had not bothered to learn—over to the various food options.
Although he was not normally in the business of waiting for other people, after visiting the dessert bar, which was tucked out of the way where Vidar wasn't sure his son would notice it, Vidar sat down at one of the low quality café tables and waited for his son to return.
The boy came back several minutes later with a tray piled high with the greasiest food options the Jutul Industries had to offer, and with far more food than a boy of his size should have to eat. The unnamed worker was carrying his tray of food like the boy's own personal servant, which Laurits seemed rather pleased about, and Vidar felt the corners of his mouth turning up involuntarily as a result.
Laurits spotted Vidar at his table, and knowing it would be rude not to—or simply because the chairs at all the other tables were turned over for the evening—he came over and sat across from his father.
"Going straight for dessert?" Laurits nodded, impressed. "Respect."
"It's for you." Said Vidar, pushing the milkshake over to his son. "All of that healthily food you have, might as well top it off with something sweet."
"Ice cream? My mom won't be happy I'm ruining my dinner." Said Laurits, then he paused for a moment, grinned, and took a gigantic sip as if nothing would make him happier in that moment than causing his mother this small annoyance.
"Maybe you should start with something else first." Vidar replied. On second thought, that was an awful lot of sugar. Even if the 'real' food Laurits had picked out left much to be desired, at least it resembled a meal in some way. And Laurits was only half-giant. Perhaps he needed more standard nutrients.
"Nah she'll get over it. And I'm a growing boy." Said Laurits, as he followed up another swig of the shake with an impressive bite from something Vidar thought was probably a cheeseburger.
"Hopefully anyway." He added through a mouthful of food.
Vidar grasped at a follow up question to keep the conversation flowing, but came up with nothing. Laurits, however, seemed content to eat in silence, happily munching on one piece of fast food after the other.
When Laurits had some french fries, a quarter of a cheeseburger, and about half a milkshake left, Vidar thought—perhaps belatedly—that he should tell him to slow down.
"There's no need to rush. Turid had planned to catch up on few things for me this evening, and I have nowhere to be."
"I doubt that's true. I've been to your house, you're never there." Said Laurits as he wrapped up the rest of his second cheeseburger in its foil and stuck it in his jacket pocket. Next, he took the last of his fries and dumped them into the top of his shake.
"Okay, I'm good. Let the tour proceed." Said Laurits, standing and then waving his hand like a young squire.
Vidar rose to his feet as well, but frowned at the boy's stomach churning food combination. "That can't taste good."
In response, Laurits just plucked two fries, now partly covered with ice cream, out of his glass and popped them into his mouth. Then, after a moment he replied, "Don't knock it 'til you try it."
Vidar just raised his own eyebrows at the boy, unable to imagine how one would ever be in the mood for such a thing, though, to be fair, most would find his food of choice—raw deer heart—rather unappetizing.
Nevertheless, Vidar watched with some combination of repulsion and fondness as Laurits ate a few more fries coated in partially melted ice cream.
As he followed the boy's slim fingers from glass to lips, he noticed that his nails were painted black. Vidar wondered if Laurits truly liked the way they looked or if he painted them for attention. Perhaps he merely did it because he was bored.
"So . . . tour?" Laurits questioned then grinned before taking another sip of his shake.
"Yes." Replied Vidar, then, after clearing his throat, "This way."
They traveled through the office building out to the more industrial area of the company in that same manner, with Vidar looking pristine as always and Laurits contently munching on his dinner, if you could call it such a thing.
Some of the workers give Vidar and Laurits, odd looks, the latter who was clearly out of place with his youthfulness, his dark but somehow still loud clothes, and messy hair. And yet, Vidar—though uncomfortable in that he feared embarrassing himself in front of the boy—felt, for some unexplainable reason, more at ease with Laurits by his side than he ever had with Fjor or Saxa.
Laurits, for his part, seemed entirely unbothered by the stares of those they passed by. Either that, or he failed to notice them, but from the little he knew of his son, that seemed doubtful.
Laurits did not appear to be someone who would be oblivious to the happenings around him. He was very perceptive and intelligent—there had to be good reason he skipped a few grades after all—picking up the finer points of production that Vidar explained along the way through the grounds and factory, though to Vidar's disappointment, Laurits didn't actually seem that interested in Jutul Industries itself, rather he seemed to ask questions or point things out more for the sake of knowledge itself than what he could gain from it. But with time, Vidar hoped that his interest in the business would develop too.
"Do you like school?" Vidar asked randomly as he pondered his son's obvious intellect.
"Does anyone?" Replied Laurits kicking a random pebble that had found its way to the middle of the floor.
"Well, I believe Fjor or Saxa mentioned that you skipped a few grades, so you must have some drive toward schooling, though jumping ahead the way you did must have been difficult too I imagine." Said Vidar, feeling as though he were slowly chipping away at his son's walls with a small and ineffective pickaxe.
"It wasn't my decision, so drive had nothing to do with it." Said Laurits without hesitation as they exited one building. "And 'difficult' is one way to put it I suppose, but the classes are not the difficult part. A monkey could pass Edda's curriculum."
"Really?" Vidar asked, peering down at his son who was not looking at him. A lock of Laurits' artificial blond hair had fallen in front of one of his eyes. Vidar did not like the blond. Though, when Saxa had recounted Laurits' impersonation of Ran at the Constitution Day celebration, he had found the stunt much more amusing than he outwardly admitted, but still, he much preferred the black, which may or may not have had to do with the fact that as Vidar thought back on it, he recognized that it made Laurits look much more like his father.
Laurits shrugged, picking up a stick on the ground and proceeding to run it along the chain-linked they passed as they walked across the grounds. "Really, really. Most of the classes are a joke. I could be teaching half of them given the amount of effort some of the teachers put into the curriculum. Erik's okay I guess, but most of them . . . it's like they want to be there even less than the students."
"So you are not being challenged enough." Concluded Vidar, trying to make sense of Laurits' response. It didn't seem like he was bragging about his intellect, not really, rather his perception of school appeared to be based in what he would consider a fact that he realized long ago.
Laurits scoffed. "Anyone that's challenged by Edda Secondary School has a serious problem."
"Your brother has some . . . difficulties with school, does he not?" Asked Vidar. He didn't want the conversation to turn to Magne. He'd hardly thought about the other boy during Laurits and his short time together, even though he'd already presented this to Ran as the perfect opportunity to get information on Magne. And yet, if Laurits was willing to share . . .
"That's different." Said Laurits rather defensively, cutting off Vidar's line of thought. "He's dyslexic, not stupid. And besides he's good at other things."
Again, Vidar was conflicted, he knew he should keep the conversation on Magne. He should ask Laurits what things was Magne good at, but instead, Vidar found himself asking more about his son.
"Are you taking any university-level courses? Perhaps you could graduate early if secondary school isn't challenging enough for you." Vidar proposed, even though he didn't necessarily want Laurits to finish school early if it meant him leaving Edda for university, not when he just found out about the boy. Instead, Vidar imagined that if Laurits was done with school earlier than expected, then he could have that much more time to spend with him. But of course Vidar could not—or should not—come out and say that at present.
"Yea no." said Laurits, making eye contact for the first time in a while. "I mean, I am taking the like two university-level courses Edda offers, but my mom would never let me skip ahead any more in school."
"Why not?" asked Vidar his lips curling into a frown. That did not seem like Turid; he would expect her to encourage her children to excel in school, not that he really knew her well enough to make that deduction. Other than their drunken escapade years ago, the few words they exchanged now on a daily basis were always strictly professional, with the exception of her revelation in regard to Laurits of course.
Laurits shrugged a little dejectedly, taking another sip of his now near-empty shake. "She doesn't think it would be good for my social de-vel-op-ment." Then Laurits seemed to realize he was letting a little too much of his true feelings show through, so he quickly looked over at Vidar and gave him a shit-eating grin. "You'd think she would realize that by now that that shipped sailed long ago."
After a moment, but before Vidar had a chance to comment, Laurits' grinned dropped from his face once more. "Besides, it just wouldn't be a good idea for me to skip ahead of Magne."
Back to Magne. Vidar supposed it was impossible to avoid him altogether. They were brothers after all. Half-brothers. But all the same, until Vidar could find a way to deal with him, Magne would be an unavoidable part of his connection to Laurits.
"Would it not be a good idea for you, or would it not be a good idea for Magne?" Vidar asked finally.
Laurits shrugged again; Vidar noticed that he seemed to do that quite a lot. "Same difference at this point."
"It seems to me that there should be an important distinction between the two." Vidar said carefully, struggling to hold back what he really wanted to say, which would have involved a long-winded speech about Magne holding back Laurits from his full potential.
"Yea, well, there's not, so . . ." Laurits trailed off and then, clearly in an effort to derail the conversation, tried—unsuccessfully, for nothing could push Vidar away from his son, not even Laurits himself—to insert a poisonous barb into Vidar's side.
"So where do you store the toxic barrels?" asked Laurits with a smirk.
Vidar raised an eyebrow at his son. "Don't tell me you buy into that liberal propaganda. Why on earth would we poison the water that we also drink?"
It was a solid argument, Vidar thought, if something like a little contaminated water mattered to a Jötunn. A few toxic chemicals in the drinking supply weren't going to give a giant so much as a sneeze. However, with a start, it occurred to Vidar that Laurits might not have the same resistance being that he was half-human. No, Vidar mentally shook his head. Half-human or not, Laurits was still half-Jötunn, and those genes were strong; that was evident by the fact that Laurits should not exist in the first place. Even before Laurits undergoes the ritual—which Vidar would make sure took place—he would still be protected from something as insignificant as pollution.
It was funny how Vidar thought about the ritual like it was an absolute, because in Vidar's mind, it was. Even though Ran—and likely Saxa and Fjor too—would never approve, that made no difference to Vidar. Laurits was going to come into his full potential. Vidar would make sure of that. Vidar did not know what Laurits' life would be if he didn't undergo the ritual, but Vidar wasn't going to wait to find out. He would not leave any trace of a chance that the boy would wither away like the humans.
Laurits gave him an exaggerated frown, "I don't know man, maybe you just like the taste."
Vidar gave a small chuckle, because honestly, the pollution did add a bit of a difference in flavor to the Jötunn, though Vidar couldn't say that it tasted any better or worse than the unpolluted variety.
"What do you like to do? Do you play any sports?" Vidar asked, changing the subject, but based on Laurits' immediate reaction, Vidar knew he was way off base with the latter question.
Laurits laughed, and Vidar was pleased to hear that it sounded genuine. "Kinda hard to play sports when everyone else is a foot taller than you."
"I suppose. . . . but you could join some activity where that might not matter as much. Perhaps track or . . . " Vidar paused trying to think of another activity where his son would not be in direct opposition to his 'peers' that were a foot taller and probably twice his weight. Although many human ventures were trivial, Vidar couldn't help but feel disappointed that his son was missing out on something. "Or maybe they would let you join a team with kids more your age, rather than in your grade."
Laurits rolled his eyes, but there didn't seem to be any real malice in the act. "Pretty sure being vertically challenged makes a difference in track too, longer legs and all that, or maybe that's been disproven. I'm not really up on my athletic knowledge. And I don't think you can just join a sports team at a lower grade level than your own, and even if it was allowed, I'll pass on that embarrassment, thanks. And even if I wanted to join a sports team, track would not be the first one on my list. It would not even be on my list. Trust me, if you ever see me running, it's because someone is chasing me."
This time it was Vidar's turn to laugh.
Laurits responded with a small smile, one Vidar might have even called shy, which made Vidar wonder if he was finally getting a glimpse of his son's true personality. Vidar had a feeling that as much as the boy tried to stand out, Laurits didn't get that much attention, or at least not the attention he wanted, rather than the attention that came with skipping grades and dressing a little gender-non-conforming. If Vidar had to guess, he would say that Laurits enjoyed having someone give him the courteous of attentiveness, even if it was from someone he barely knew.
"In fact," said Laurits continuing, "if you ever see me running or walking more than a block, please offer me a ride because I am not exercising my legs by choice. More likely than not, someone's chasing me."
"Noted." Said Vidar with a nod.
They fell back into a silence, which Vidar would almost describe as companionable, where not more than an hour ago it would have been awkward. Already he was feeling that he and his son were connecting much more than he ever had with any of his other 'children'.
After a moment, Laurits broke the silence with a blunt statement.
"My brother really doesn't like you."
The feeling is mutual. Vidar thought to himself, but instead, all he replied was "Oh? Why's that?" As if Laurits statement was indeed a surprise.
"You mean, besides the water pollution." Laurits replied with an eyebrow lift.
"Alleged water pollution." Vidar answered with a slightly conniving smile. "I assure you Jutul Industries is just as concerned about the matter as anyone."
"Right. " said Laurits, with a single skeptical chuckle. "But anyway, I'm pretty he thinks you murdered Isolde."
Vidar raised his eyebrows, not surprised by Magne's accusation, which happened to be correct, but more that his son had dined to state the theory out loud. But clearly Laurits did not believe it to be true, for if he did, he wouldn't have shared his brother's conclusion with Vidar.
"Isolde was killed in the storm." Said Vidar matter-of-factly.
"Yea, I know that. Magne's just . . . it's been a while since he's had a good friend. I think it's easier for him to blame someone than to blame the weather, you know? You can't really punch a storm in the face." Said Laurits, abandoning the stick he had been carrying as the chain linked fence came to an end.
"Indeed." Replied Vidar, and he was just about to circle back to Laurits' interests when a shout interrupted him.
"Laurits!" Turid yelled across the lot, hustling around a corner and making a beeline for her youngest son. "What—uh—what are you doing here? With—with Vidar?"
"He was originally looking for you, but since he found me instead, I offered to give him a tour, and he was kind enough to entertain me." Said Vidar calmly, clearly trying to indicate that he had not disregarded her wishes to make their relationship known before she had a chance to approach Laurits on her own.
At Vidar's reply, Turid's expression calmed a bit as she looked between the two. "Oh! Well that's—that's nice?" Vidar gave her a small smile to confirm as much and with his encouragement, she continued. "That's very good. Did you enjoy yourself, Laurits?"
And, much to Laurits' dismay Turid ran her hand down the back of Laurits' head smoothing his hair some. Laurits made an annoyed face and dodged back to avoid any further contact.
"It was fine." He said, and then he took another deliberate sip of his shake, drawing Turid's attention to it for the first time.
"You ate?" Turid questioned; then, taking a closer look, she added. "A milkshake?"
"Don't worry, I can eat more." Said Laurits with sly grin.
Turid sighed and gave him a pointed look before responding, "I'm sure you can. Your metabolism has been crazy lately. We really need to get that checked out."
"Mom." Said Laurits in embarrassment and annoyance. "I'm clearly about to have a growth spurt. I don't need to go to the doctor because I have healthy appetite."
Turid made tsking noise. "We'll see." Then she turned attention back to Vidar. "So uh, what did you two talk about?"
Vidar was sure by now she knew he hadn't revealed their relation. Undoubtedly if he had, Laurits would not have continued to casually sip his dessert and have what he deemed a pointless conversation. Rather, Vidar suspected, she was genuinely curious and worried about how it might have gone.
"This and that." Said Vidar vaguely. "Laurits is a very intelligent young man, and he mentioned that school isn't very challenging for him. I know Edda doesn't have much to offer in the way of AP and university courses, but I know some reputable universities that offer online courses. I'm sure we—hecould find some acceptable courses that interest him. I'd be happy to send you a few options."
"Oh I don't know." Said Turid with a small laugh "Summer is supposed to be a chance for the boys to relax, and Laurits reads so much already. Granted, it's usually not what he's been assigned for school, but all the same, I don't know that it's healthy for him to be inside all day. . . . Magne seems to have taken an interest in hiking lately, I was hoping he might have Laurits join him every so often now that school is out."
"Pass." said Laurits, butting in before Vidar had a chance to respond. "Hard pass to both of those proposals. Besides, I'm pretty sure I'm not going to go to university, so I don't really see the point of spending money on extra classes."
"What?!" said Turid shocked.
Vidar too was surprised, but unlike Turid, this news didn't cause him the distress that it did her, quite the opposite actually. If Laurits didn't go to university, it meant he could stay around Edda, and Vidar could teach him everything he needed to know about Jutul Industries. University couldn't teach him anything more valuable than the knowledge that Vidar would impart upon him.
"What do you mean you're not going to university!" Turid continued appalled. "Of course you're going to university! You've skipped grades! Your marks are excellent! If you apply yourself, you can get into any university you want. Magne is the one who needs to worry about getting in."
"I'm not worried about getting in. I just don't think it's for me." Said Laurits with a disinterested shrug.
"Now wait a minute mister, you are going to university! I'm not letting you waste your life." Turid scolded, putting her hands on her hips.
"Just because I don't go to university doesn't mean I'd be wasting my life!" Laurits shot back. "Just because someone gets a bachelor's degree doesn't automatically make them intelligent. Half of my current teachers are proof of that."
"I didn't say that it did, but you are intelligent, and higher education would open so many doors for you. I can't believe we are even having this conversation." Said Turid, putting a hand on her forehead in exasperation.
"Look, maybe 10% of the population learns something from attending university and that's great for that 10%, but I don't see myself in that group, so it just seems a little useless. Chances are, it's just going to be more adults talking out of their asses with their go to teaching method being instructing everyone to read the textbook, and then giving a multiple choice test that I could've passed when I was five. And, you know what? I can read a book on my own time without incurring thousands of dollars of debt, so . . . I think there's a clear answer here." Laurits countered with what Vidar thought was a pretty decent argument.
"Perhaps we should continue this conversation later." Said Vidar, jumping in before Turid—who looked like she was about to have an aneurism—could retort. It was only after he had spoken that he realized he had said 'we,' implying he would be part of the continued discussion, that he would have a say in Laurits' future.
But Laurits and Turid must not have caught that slip of the tongue, or maybe Laurits had—it seemed that not much went over his head—but he was simply grateful for the change of subject because he quickly agreed with his father. "Yea, I'm not even graduating this year, mom. Let's reserve the flip out for next year please. Besides, I don't remember you having gone to university."
"That's beside the point." Turid replied, waving her hand as if to physically brush that fact away. "And this conversation isn't over young man. We are going to have a long chat about this later, and it will be this year. And next year. And as long as needed."
"Greaaaat." Said Laurits sarcastically. "Can we go now? I'm hungry."
"You just ate." Said Turid appalled. "I'm calling the doctor tomorrow. Your appetite cannot be normal."
"Whatever." Said Laurits seemingly unconcerned, but he'd paled slightly at the statement.
Like Laurits, Vidar wasn't too worried about the boy's increased metabolism, figuring that it could very well be somehow related to his half-giant heritage and his coming of age. Vidar did however feel a little stab of something that he was afraid to label as regret at the thought of Laurits wanting to leave. He knew he shouldn't be surprised that his son was ready to take off, given the turn the conversation had taken; or at least, Vidar much preferred to blame his eagerness to depart on that, rather than as a reflection of their time spent together.
"So can we go?" Laurits asked again, and then realizing manners might help speed things along, he added as an afterthought, "Please."
"In a moment. Why don't you head out to the car? Here, give me that." Said Turid, steering him in the direction of the parking lot and taking the empty shake container from him. "I need to talk to Vidar for a bit. Just about some work things. I'll meet you at the car in a minute."
"Sure." Said Laurits as he rolled his eyes, no doubt having learned that a 'minute' was never really a minute.
Reluctant to let his son slip away without so much as a goodbye, Vidar stepped forward quickly and held his hand out to the boy. "It was good to formally meet you, Laurits. I enjoyed speaking with you."
Laurits looked at Vidar's outstretched hand, and for a moment, Vidar was afraid that he wouldn't take it but after too long of a pause, Laurits did reach out and shake his hand.
"Ditto." Said Laurits, though Vidar couldn't tell if he was being sincere or simply polite, but Vidar was coming to suspect that his son's main defense mechanism was sarcasm and feigned nonchalance, so he hoped the former. He was pleased, however, to note that his son had a very strong grip, no doubt having got such strength from his father and giant heritage.
Vidar and Turid watched Laurits stroll away. He had put his headphones back on as he departed, and, though no more than two steps from his parents, he already seemed lost in his own world.
Vidar turned to Turid as soon as it was clear that Laurits wouldn't hear them. "When will you tell him?"
Vidar wondered how obvious it was that he was eager to spend more time with the boy.
"Soon I think." Said Turid running a nervous hand through her hair. "I just . . . I've been thinking. There are some things we haven't discussed. I was so nervous about telling you about Laurits that they didn't even cross my mind but we really need to figure some things out."
"Such as?" asked Vidar, raising an eyebrow expectantly.
"Well . . ." said Turid taking a deep breath. "Are you going to claim him as your own? Or is he going to have to sneak around if he wants to see you because it would be this big scandal with Jutul Industries and your family if the press knew about him? And if you are going to publicly claim him, what will that mean for us? Are you going to try to get shared custody of him too? I already said I expect nothing from you, but he is going to expect things from you. And, I can't have you hurting him."
In all honest, Vidar hadn't considered the actual logistics of what it would mean for him—a high profile public figure—to spend time with a son who was born out of wedlock. Sure he had imagined a future that included Laurits, but that utopic dream hadn't included vexing real-world problems like the media's perception. Likewise, the question of custody had not even crossed his mind as something he could fight for. He would have reached that realization eventually when he wasn't so high on the news that he had a child, but now that Turid had brought it to his attention, his gut instinct was to lawyer up as quickly as possible and petition for complete control over Laurits.
But he had to think rationally about the situation. As pleased as he was to find out that he had a son, Vidar had to remember that it was an added bonus that said son currently resided in the enemy camp, and taking full custody of Laurits would effectively sever that advantage.
In what was an uncharacteristic approach for him, Vidar decided to tell Turid more or less the truth.
"I honestly hadn't thought that far ahead." Said Vidar, putting his hands in his pants pockets. "But I want to be in his life. There's nothing more that I want than that, and I'd rather not have to get legal counsel involved; . . . however, I also want things to be official. I won't try to take him from you, but I think shared custody is a reasonable ask given you've kept him out of my life for almost seventeen years."
"What . . . what would that look like?" Turid asked cautiously. "Shared custody, I mean? I don't want to uproot his life."
"I'm not sure, but I would expect it to mean that he spends half his time with me. The how of that we can figure out later. But it also means I will be involved in the important decisions of his life; for example, the question of attending university." Said Vidar, adding a touch of authority to his voice that he had purposefully toned down for most of their conversation.
"He's going to university." Said Turid firmly as if the previous discussion on the topic had not happened at all.
Vidar nodded, deciding it as better to stay on the woman's good side for the time being, and handle this the human way for as long as it seemed fruitful to do so. "Yes, well, let's not worry about that at this exact moment, but regardless, I will of course begin paying for his schooling, clothes, food, anything he needs."
And anything he wants . . . within reason. Vidar added silently.
"You don't have to do that." Turid said, shaking her head, as if she couldn't quite believe how willing he was to be part of his son's life. "You already pay me well. He's taken care of."
"Of course, but he's my son too." Said Vidar simply, as if that explained everything, and for him, it really did; but for Turid's benefit, he added, "I want to provide for him. Ihavemissed out on doing so for most of his life after all. Let me help him. . . . Let me help you."
To Vidar's surprise, Turid's eyes started to water, but she managed to keep her tears at bay. "Al—alright. Thank you. Thank you, Vidar."
"You don't have to thank me. You've given me a great gift, Turid. Truly." Said Vidar, taking one of her hands in his and clasping it between both of his own, knowing full well the effect it would have on her, and indeed barely a moment after their hands connected, a blush rose on her cheeks. "If I were to react any other way, I would be a fool. . . . And I am not a fool."
"No, of course you're not." Said Turid, and she laughed as she wiped at her eyes with her free hand, nearly dropping the empty shake glass in the process, "But you might not feel this way had you been around for potty training . . . or once you have a hormonal teenage boy living with you part time. . . . or—oh—another one. Of course you already have Fjor, and Saxa too. Oh gosh. I didn't even think—are you going to tell them right away? About Laurits? What about Ran?!" Turid exclaimed as she took her other hand back.
"Let me worry about all that. I'll talk to them. It will all work out. Fjor and Saxa always wanted a younger sibling." Vidar lied.
"And Ran?" Turid asked.
"Ran won't keep me from Laurits." Vidar said more sternly than was probably wise. I won't let her. "Don't worry about Ran."
Turid eyed him thoughtfully at his response. "I have to say, you're taking this much better than I could have imagined."
Vidar gave Turid his trademark charming smile. "Glad I can surprise you. It's not often someone underestimates me."
"No I suppose not." Said Turid.
"Perhaps you both could come to dinner sometime once the news is out. Or I could come to your place." Vidar added thinking that Ran would have a field day if he invited his son—bastard—and ex-lover to Jutulheim.
"I—I would like that." Said Turid with a smile. "I think Laurits would too, once he knows of course."
"Of course." Said Vidar with another nod.
"Though, I'm not sure Magne will handle the news quite so well."
"Good thing that Magne isn't Laurits' guardian then. I understand Magne is not my biggest fan, but I will not let a little childish dislike keep me from my son."
There was an awkward pause, neither quite sure how to follow that statement.
However, despite the awkwardness, Vidar was not quite ready to walk away, even if Laurits had already disappeared for the time being.
"Do you really think he looks like me?" Vidar asked, and he could hear the hint of hope in his voice even as he tried to keep the question as casual as possible given the circumstance.
Turid gave him that small sympathetic smile of hers before responding. "Yes, and it's become more obvious as he grows into a young man, but I've always been able to see you in him. I mean, right now the blond makes it a little less striking, but he'll grow bored of that color after a bit I'm sure. But even with him having a different hair color at the moment, like I said, his eyes are yours and his cheekbones too." She said gesturing to Vidar's face, and then blushing a bit as she quickly lowered her hand. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure he inherited your height though. That's probably my fault."
At that, Vidar chuckled. Yes the about half a foot or more height difference between them made that obvious, but Laurits was young yet, especially for a giant. He might surprise them all and have a growth spurt still. He was half-giant. "Maybe not. But I suspect he might have some growing left to do yet."
"He'd be happy if that's true, I'm sure. It's not been easy on him with Magne being so much bigger." Said Turid with another smile, and then from the parking lot came a yell.
"Mother!" Laurits shouted as he popped his head out of their beat-up car window. Vidar would need to do something about that vehicle. "I'm going to waste away if you take any longer!"
"One minute!" Turid called to the boy over her shoulder, raising one finger in the universal symbol to give her a moment.
"Sorry about that." She said, turning back to Vidar and speaking more quietly. "Whether or not he's still growing, he certainly eats like he is. I honestly have no idea where he puts it all. I would kill for his metabolism. He must've gotten that from you."
"Perhaps. And it's quite alright. You best not keep him waiting anymore. We'll have plenty of time to talk more. I'll call you tomorrow." Then as an afterthought. "If that's alright."
Turid smiled. "That would be wonderful. Thank you again, Vidar. Talk soon."
"Yes. Goodbye, Turid." Vidar said with a nod.
"Mom!" Laurits shouted, hanging dramatically out of the window again.
"I'm coming!" said Turid, turning away from Vidar to head toward her son—their son—his son.
Vidar raised a hand toward his son in farewell. The boy didn't notice, but that was fine.
Vidar would see him again soon.
Vidar smiled to himself as he watched their car pull away, putting his hands in his pockets, he started heading back toward the main building. As he did, he hummed a song—one of the few this century that had stuck in his head—he had heard on the radio not so long ago, his mind stuck on one particular stanza.
There are giants across the water
There are giants heading home
In the middle of the madness . . . .
There are giants being born.
{Author's Note: The end song is from Take That's song Giants. There are a lot of songs called Giants I guess. Ragnarok is so silly and overdramatic, but for some reason I remain invested in it. Off to finish season 3!}