"Brother, hold still." There's a tug on Loki's hair and the sorcerer snarls, hands balling into fists on his knees. He hated holding still, and Thor's muscular hand on the back of his neck wasn't doing any better to alleviate his frustration. He'd been recruited by the thunderer not a half an hour ago, yet rather than set out immediately to . . . well, wherever it was Thor had planned to take them the man had set him down. He was running his fingers through Loki's hair as it was, setting the sorcerer on edge.

"I'd rather you did not do that, Thor," he bites, trying to turn his head to look back at him. Thor pushes his head back to front.

"I said to hold still." Another tug on his hair and Loki grits his teeth to keep himself from shouting insults. There's the sound of shears being sharpened when Thor's hands leave Loki's head but this time the man doesn't move from his spot in the chair. Did the oaf really think to groom him, like he had when they were boys? The last time Thor had taken shears to Loki's hair it had been so short that it had to be magiced back to an appropriate length. He was about to open his mouth to complain when Thor stepped back over, shears in hand.

"I do not want-."

"I care not for what you want. You need this."

There's the hand on the back of his neck again, forcing his face forward as Thor begins to part his hair. Loki might have found it funny if not for the memories that came flying back.

Frigga hadn't been too pleased to find out what her eldest son had done, scolding him for not coming to her the first time around. Loki had had tears in his eyes that he was refusing to let pass his eyes. He would not cry-never cry, even though Thor had blundered. He'd put his trust in his brother and his brother had let him down! It wasn't fair that Loki had to pay the price!

"Do not cry, my love," Frigga had murmured, pulling him close. With familiar, comfortable fingers she ran her hands through his hair. Before her eyes it began to grow back and she hummed an old battle hymn as she worked. Immediately Loki had felt the tears leave his eyes, felt himself growing stronger beneath her song. It was old magic, that of which he didn't know about yet, but he would strive to learn more. His eyes closed as she worked, breathing deeply to calm himself down. His mother would make it all better, she always did.

Loki hardly notices that Thor is humming the same tune until he joins in on the second round, the slow snipping of the shears nearly forgotten in the melody and the familiarity of the song. It feels like home, and if he concentrates hard enough he swears he can feel Frigga's hands, strong and sure, rubbing his scalp, helping groom him. To let Thor close enough with the shears is sacred enough though Loki knows it is expected of him. Who else was he supposed to trust if he could not trust his family? He doesn't focus on that, however, turning back to the song.

Frigga. He misses her dearly, and unbidden he feels the tears well in the corners of his eyes. He pushes them back, breathes deep, listens to the slow snip and the weight that leaves his head. Thor continues to hum, singing when he can remember the words. They speak of courage, of a great battle to come when all must band together. Of brothers who fight and bicker and stand true to one another in the end. Of Ragnarok and a certain end of the world. Of the mead halls of Valhalla.

An apt song though Loki very much doubts Thor knows what he's doing.

It feels like no time when Thor has finished, his fingers running through the now severely shortened black locks. He doesn't mention the grease, or how long it's been since Loki has had a proper shower. He offers him a mirror instead, smiling as he watches Loki for his reaction.

It's shock that stares back at the mirror. His hair . . . he looks just as he did the last time he and Thor were on Asgard together. Before the Bifrost, the Jotuns, the tesseract. Before the madness had eaten away at Loki's mind, though he still is prone to bouts of fantasy. It causes a lump to rise in his throat which he barely is able to dispel with a cough.

"Thank you."

Thor's hand is weighty and familiar as it claps him on his back, nearly sending Loki sprawling in surprise. For one moment, when Loki turns to glance reproachfully back at his brother it feels as if nothing has changed.

"Come, we must go find Jane."

And the moment is gone.

A/N: Needless to say this is inspired by the Loki hair apocalypse . . . thing that just happened on Tumblr. And the idea that grooming is uber important to the Asgardians. Anyway. Hope you enjoyed it! All the characters belong to Marvel, and the title of the fic comes from "Reminder" by Mumford & Sons. Beautiful, heartbreaking song. Enjoy!