What I wrote last night

"You're fired," he said to Sigtrygg after a long moment.

"What's that mean?" Sigtrygg asked as he picked the pot up from the fire.

"Means get lost."

Sigtrygg laughed and took the pot and pliers away.  After a moment, Loki climbed up onto the bench and lay stretched out.  A moment later, Fenrir trotted over and rested his head on Loki's chest.  Loki scratched him behind his ears, digging his fingers into the dense fur.

"Do you want out?" Loki asked him.

He hadn't been allowed to hunt since they arrived in the realm.  He needed to be allowed to run freely and kill his own food.  He could not live on table scraps and off-cuttings forever.

But instead of moving toward the door, Fenrir settled down.  He helpt his head on Loki's chest, a heavy weight that almost made it difficult to breathe.  

As the house settled down, Loki dozed.  The pain subsided to a dull but constant ache that was easily forgotten as long as he didn't do anything to upset the area.  While Loki rested, the children returned to their game, taking turns playing one another into the evening.  He was asleep in front of the fire when the door opened, and Bjalfi and Gudrun returned.

"What the hel has happened here?" Gudrun asked as she surveyed the mild carnage left from earlier in the day.

"He pulled out his tooth and then went to sleep," Vigdís said.

"What have you done with your hair?" Gudrun asked.

Loki opened his eyes to see Bjalfi standing over him, wearing an expression that suggested he was less than amused.

"Let's see what you've done to yourself this time," he said, while behind him Gudrun lamented the board Loki had drawn on the table.

Loki opened his mouth to show him.  Rather than say anything, Bjalfi rolled his eyes and shook his head as he walked away.  Loki nudged Fenrir off him and forced himself to sit up.  For a moment, he watched Bjalfi inspect the coins he had given the children to play with, and pretended he did not see the suspicious glance thrown his way.