Liesmithofasgard & Thor-Of-Storms || Private Roleplay
“Indeed.” Thor would smile slightly, tilting his head. “You are at least freed from your confinement. Your powers would come back, should you need them.” He nodded as he would turn to leave, murmuring that he would make sure that Loki’s belonging were being treated kingly before making the short trek to his chambers- where several guards would, as Loki had worried, ransack his chambers.Â
Surprising them with his presence as he would deposit his armload of belonging on the crisply made bed, he would give them a severe stare- considering his words. “Be careful with my Brother’s things. You would do best to mind that Loki is indeed still a prince, and these are a prince’s possessions.” Thor would step forwards to pry one of Loki’s precious tomes from the guard’s hands- frozen as they would listen, before he would tenderly dust the surface, frowning as he would set it in one of the many baskets that were scattered around the room, some full with weaponry.
Thor first rubbed at his temples, then massaging the bridge of his nose as one of the guards would give an indignant snort. Thor would glare heavily, biting his tongue as he would remind them again. “Treat Loki’s things as if they were your own. No less will be accepted.”Â
Before he would send each guard a look, turning-tail to leave, where he would begin helping his younger brother. “Your things are in good hands.” Thor would murmur, smiling as he would spot his cloak- pulling it towards himself and holding the thick, warm fabric in his hands. He was half pressed to have Loki use it during his mortality- for he was powerless, and even more susceptible to cold with his cold blood.
Thor chuckled and opted to throw it around the Trickster’s shoulders  in the form of a shawl- the red in striking contrast to his soft, sunless skin- along with his normal green.  ”This color, it compliments you.” He nodded, folding his arms over his broad chest, cerulean eyes flicking to Loki’s too-long hair. “Perhaps, before we go to the stables, you would trim your hair?”
"It makes me look peaky," Loki huffed a small laugh as Thor wrapped the cloak about him again, not even fighting it in the least bit any more. Â It had begun to take on his own scent, almost more than Thor's, he'd had the thing so long. Â And though he'd admit it to no one, he'd taken to using the vast, warm swath of crimson as a blanket in place of what had been furnished for him.
His fingers went to his thick, raven locks when Thor mentioned them though, threading through their length, now even further between his shoulder blades than when he had come to Midgard. Â Several inches of the black was indeed split and dead, left too long unattended while he had focused his attentions on greater ambitions than looking courtly.Â
"Yes, I think I would..." he answered softly. Â It would be another means for Loki to rid himself of an old and damaged part of him. Â Simple, largely mundane to most, the cutting of one's hair, but Loki was anything but simple, or mundane.
