Cut
Summery: Simple traditions such as cutting one another's hair, neither Thor nor Loki thought they would miss as much as they do. One-shot, brotherly love, set pre-Thor through post Avengers.
Authors note: By no means do I consider writing to be my greatest strength, please forgive, but this little idea has been making me feel all the feels and I had to put it to words. Inspired by iwantmyburd over on tumblr, for wondering why Thor and Loki's hair got so long in the avengers. Enjoy! :) -ConsultingHedgehog
Word count: 2,811
After a grand feast of celebration for actions only the stuffy old ones would understand, the two young princes of Asgard retired to a parlor nestled amongst shelf upon shelf of ancient texts. The boys were brothers, but not by blood. They wouldn't know this for years to come and needn't trouble their adolescent fun with the truth.
The pale one, who was on the scrawny side compared to his bulking brother, had his nose buried in a fantasy tale book. Beasts roared, fair maidens were rescued from terrible fates and great warriors conquered worlds far off before Loki's flashing aqua eyes. Thoughts swirled in his young mind. He wondered if he could accomplish such great things one day.
His brother lay a short way off. Restless. Fidgeting. Golden mane splayed out on the hearth rug, light from the gilded fireplace danced on his features and he appeared to glow. This room had to be Thor's least favorite place in the entire kingdom. Filled with books. Where was the excitement and adventure in books? He gave up trying to rub a rock to a sharp point on the floor, sat up on his elbows and gave a breathy sigh.
"Brother?"
Loki payed no attention and turned an ancient, yellowing page.
Thor huffed and got to his feet. He sidled behind the plush divan Loki was seated on and snatched the book away from his brother. His intention was not to bully, or to tease, he was simply board and wanted to play.
"Thor!" Loki cracked a wide smile and twisted around to reach for his book, though it was a lost cause. He jumped up and lunged at Thor and the larger boy fell to the ground deliberately, pretending to have been fazed by his delicate brother.
They wrestled and rolled on the stone floor for a moment before Loki was grasped in a firm headlock by Thor and finally surrendered. They collapsed in a confused heap of limbs, dust and scraped knees.
Upon settling, Loki's long raven tresses had flown into his brothers face.
"Loki get your hair out of my mouth!" Thor could barely manage to speak through his laughter. He spat the strands away and stood, holding out a hand to Loki who brushed the offer away and rose on his own.
"It seems that you require a haircut, brother." Thor grinned as he reached up and tugged playfully on a fistful of his brothers overgrown mane.
They had once kept their hair short, as small children, but now grew it out approaching young adulthood. Their father had said it made the two look fiercer.
"Ow!" Loki squeaked. "All right, fine."
"...Last one upstairs is a sniveling Frost Giant!" Thor added before dashing to the hall.
Thanks to his mighty agility, Thor arrived in the upstairs washroom first.
Loki panted in mere seconds later and plopped down in their mother's vanity seat. He opened the drawer to his right and took out a small ivory handled blade. Frigga did not so much mind the boys using her things and only thought it was sweet of them to have a bond so strong.
The tradition began only a few years ago. Loki showed hesitation when an appointed servant approached him with a blade, ordered by the boy's mother to do something about those unruly tousles. Only wanting to please, Loki squeezed his eyes shut to wait the dreadful experience out.
But the servant was far from gentle, tugging and scraping at the silk like strands atop the young boys head. Small whines escaped Loki's lips from time to time and finally, without realizing it, he had set the woman's own hair alight with a sparkling blue fire from sheer concentration.
She ran out of the room, shrill cries following. Loki giggled to himself.
Not a moment later, his brother's golden figure peered around the doorway. Thor met Loki's gaze and a grin captured his face.
"Did you do that to Meridell?" He asked, skipping into the room.
"Perhaps." Loki replied, still chortling, his small legs swung back and forth on the stool upon witch he sat.
"If mother sees your hair in that state, she'll know that you've been using magic and scaring off the servants again." Thor warned, inspecting the uneven state of his brother's hair.
Loki's glance was focused on the marble floor. Thor didn't want his brother to fall into trouble again, he wasn't any fun in the days fallowing a scolding from the All-Father. He took up the fallen blade and started slicing through the longer clumps of Loki's hair.
"What are you doing?" The seated boy asked.
"Helping you. Now hold still."
Presently, Thor took a jewel incrusted comb from a stand nearby and began to gently smooth out his brothers hair. He wondered how it was that Loki never seemed to get the strands all knotted up, even when they roughhoused. It was like the night sky itself, an ever flowing silky shadow. And so cold, like a chilling wind.
Pleased with the result though it hadn't made much of a difference, Thor set the comb back in it's proper place and reached now for the blade Loki had been fiddling with in his lap. His brother held it back over his shoulder and Thor lifted a section of Loki's hair and carefully sliced away at the silken threads.
Despite his ever more vigorous battle training and boisterous ways, Thor he was remarkably gentle when it came to Loki's haircuts. He understood like no other just how sensitive his brother was, and the attention he needed.
Loki stared innocently into Thor's blue eyes through the mirror in front of them, studying every move he made with intent curiosity. Everyone showed such love for Thor, even he himself, and Loki was intent on learning from this talent his brother possessed.
The memories faded.
Thor was shown to his quarters shortly after arriving on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s helicarrier by one Agent Coulson, awkward little fellow- he had practically tripped over himself insisting on showing the god how to use the various mortal fixtures in the room -but he had a big heart.
Shooing the little man off as kindly as was possible, Thor moved to the tiny washroom included with his lodgings, thinking he could splash some water onto his face and clear his thoughts.
He leaned forward to the mirror above the washbasin, planting his hands on the cool, smooth surface. He studied his features in the reflection. The stress and age that had crept upon his face since last he had truly taken the time to look at himself in a mirror shocked him. And his hair, great Odin, his hair! When had it been shortened last?
Surely not since he and-
The god straightened his spine and drew one strong hand up to rake away the long, golden tangle. It flopped back into his eyes. He took a deep breath and exhaled it slowly. Loki. Brother. If only there could be some reconciliation... He cursed the fates. He wished Loki would see some kind of reason, before he was completely destroyed, if not his body than surely his mind.
It was true that Loki had committed a number of the most treacherous crimes in the history of Asgard, and Thor could not forgive him for putting the earth in this kind of danger. Yet Loki was still his brother, and no matter their origins Thor would always have love for him in his heart.
A soft knocking came from the door. Thor would truly be lucky if it wasn't Agent Colson with a pair of scissors, come to trim the god's hair for him.
Loki returned from his meeting with the Other, domineering leader of the Chitauri, green eyes full of fire. He pushed himself off the ground angrily.
An immense wave of fatigue rushed over him very suddenly and he wondered vaguely when the last time was that he slept. Nothing else mattered now that he was so close. So close.
Eventually it became too much and hissing a bit at his own weakness the god turned on his heel, long coat following the movement. Loki strode to the room he had designated to be his and shut the door forcefully, willing everyone in the building to stay away for the next hour.
There was a full length mirror on the opposite wall from the door, little squiggles, unreadable to Loki, carved into the dark mahogany frame. He approached it, watching his reflection fill the rectangular space.
Just inches away now, Loki stared at his image. He could see the power. The gain. The millions, kneeling...
His eyes finished roaming this self predicted future and rested on his face. He looked as tired as he felt, small lines etched across his forehead, the pointed ends of his black-as-midnight hair were falling flat and stuck to the back of his neck, sticky and hot. He would have sheared it all off then and there if he had a sharp enough object at arms length. Just another annoyance.
A memory stirred in the back of Loki's mind. Not so terribly long ago, Thor might have tugged on his overgrown hair, stating jokingly that he would never be wed if he looked akin to a wild beast that had just run out of the forest.
Loki's face darkened. Sentimentality?He cursed himself for being so ignorant. Thor had never truly cared for him. No one had ever truly cared for him. He was as alone now as he ever was. A growl escaped Loki's lips and he jerked away from the mirror. Stretching out now on a very small collapsable bed in the corner, he put his arms behind his head and settled into a dreamless slumber.
The war was won, Loki had been caught.
The Asgardians left Earth and returned to their home via Tessarect cube, skin tingling a bit from it's energy when they landed. Home. Thor filled his lungs with the familiar air.
Odin met with the two, contempt in his eyes. Loki boldly met the all-father's gaze, silver tongue aching to be free of the muzzle device locked to his mouth. The ancient god said nothing to his adoptive son, only retrieving the Tessarect for safe keeping before turning to a party of armored guards standing to attention beside him.
Thor insisted on joining the guards in escorting Loki to the underground place where he was to be imprisoned and Odin nodded approval. He watched them go with his head held high, despite the heaviness felt in his chest.
The route was not long or made public. When the group came to the dungeon, Loki willingly stepped into the windowless box.
As the guards took up their positions, Thor shut the cell door with a simple push and hearing the locks engage he turned to leave without a word. Alone, Loki halfheartedly inspected the stone walls, knowing them to be protected against magic, before he began to walk back and forth across the dusty floor.
Night fell eventually and the bustle of the kingdom quieted. Though he wasn't tired, Loki stopped pacing and lay down on the stone shelf provided for prisoners who wished to wake up with severe skeletal issues in the morning, if they fell into dreams at all. Feigning sleep was childish, but might give him some kind of advantage-
Footsteps echoed on the walls, tearing Loki from his thoughts.
The maker of the sound exchanged quiet words with the guards. Nodding respectively the armored brutes exited, newcomer approaching the cell and standing motionless for a moment before drawing out a small detailed key, inserting it into the complicated set of locks.
Clack. The great wooden door swung open.
Thor's silhouette loomed into Loki's peripheral vision, figure blocking out what little light the torches from the hall provided in this dark place of imprisonment. Spider-like legs swung off the uncomfortable bed and Loki sat griping the edge, knuckles white, head down. He smiled into his muzzle of sorts. Earth's mighty avenger, come to take him to his fate?
Without visible hesitation, Thor knelt down so that he was level with the prisoner. Reaching his hands behind Loki's head, he unlocked the muzzle contraption with another key and tossed the device aside, no longer needed. The shackles stayed. Loki raised his eyes to meet his captor's. Blue met green. He rubbed his mouth, sore from the device clasping so tight.
"Come with me." It wasn't spoken with an authoritative tone but Loki silently obeyed, mildly intrigued by Thor's foolishness. He would bide his time until the opportunity presented its self, and then be one his way.
They both stood and Thor, doing little else to ensure Loki did not escape except griping tight to the chain that bound his wrists, led them out of the dark chambers and into the candle lit halls of the place they had lived when they were brothers.
Boyhood memories played out before the two, old and faded.
"Loki c'mon!" Thor shouts as he dashes across the shining floor, steps echoing loudly. "Do you think I could play the king this time Thor?" Loki calls back, footfalls quieter than his brothers as he takes graceful leaps. "Of course not brother, you're so good at being the dragon!"
The light shifted.
On they went, up stairs and through doors. Eventually growing tired Loki decided he would be taking his leave. Thor stopped in his tracks and turned slightly, "Do not." He warned as if reading Loki's thoughts. Facing ahead again Thor pushed the last door open revealing their final destination. Familiar scents washed over both of them, of perfumes and powders and soaps.
Loki made his first sound since the removal of the muzzle- It was a chuckle that rose from the deepest part of his chest. This was the washroom near their old bedroom, the one they had shared when they were boys.
"What do you intend to do, you fool, to bathe me? Or drown me, rather?" Loki smiled patronizingly.
"I would not take such a course of action, Odin must decide your fate." Thor answered. "And lower your voice."
Loki's brow lifted in amusement. "Who does not know that we are up here?" The other looked guilty only for a moment but it didn't go unnoticed. "Ah, not following orders are we?"
Thor ignored him. "Let me ask something of you,"
"Anything at all, I am entirely at your disposal, Odinson." Loki said with a little mock bow, each word individually threaded with the utmost sarcasm.
Paying no attention Thor brought Loki's hands up before him and fumbled with the locked shackles until they finally clicked open.
Freed, Loki stretched his arms a little, a curious expression spreading across his features.
Thor had turned away, settling into the little seat in front of an old, dusty vanity. The wood creaked under his weight. Loki stared, confused. A flash of silver and Thor was holding a blade over his shoulder, as though passing it to someone.
Loki stole a glance at the doorway. With Thor so lost in melancholy, he could easily make his escape. But instead found his feet taking him to stand directly behind where Thor was seated, and his hands taking the old ivory handled knife into their grip.
He ran his thumb across the blades sharp edge, listening to the faint metallic sound. From his position, Loki could easily reach around and draw the blade deeply through the exposed flesh of Thor's neck. Ear to ear. He could hear the sickening sound of skin ripping apart, as gravity pulled the blood downward, staining his silver tunic and enveloping Loki's hand, still clenching the weapon. A gleaming red waterfall.
Wet, gurgling sounds would begin to emit from Thor's lips, also dripping the sticky life. Was he calling out for help? For someone to save him, as he groped at the wound helplessly? What must it be like, to cry out and be completely unheard?
Loki's eyes flicked from daydream to reality, catching Thor's stare in their reflection. Neither held a particular expression. Loki's silver tongue, for once, was dry of words.
He lay a hand on the back of Thor's head, the latter closing his eyes at the gentle touch he hadn't felt in so long. Beginning with his long fingers to gently separate the thick golden tresses, Loki remarked at how warm Thor's hair felt in his hands, like each individual strand was a ray from a burning star. The light from the torches about the room enhanced this effect by pouring down each wave and making the shades of brown dance like fire.
When Loki finally drew back Thor's eyes opened, silently wishing for the affectionate touch to continue.
The blade was raised.
End.