#lokisona

Loki (any pronouns but prefers she/they) hails from a timeline where Asgard’s warrior pride is multiplied times ten. Despite being Odin’s child, she grew up shy and self-conscious, often overshadowed by her older brother, Thor, and relentlessly teased by his friends under the guise of “toughening her up.” She was often tasked to cleaning up the training grounds after brutal sparring sessions and being pretty much beat up to the ground and left her with a complicated love/hate dynamic toward Asgard’s golden warriors. She’d watch them with a bitter sort of awe, both longing to be part of their world and despising how they made her feel so small.

Her refuge was in stories where relentless heroes carved their destinies with grit and defiance. Chess and board games like Dungeons & Dragons became her escape, offering worlds where she was both the mastermind and the hero. She rooted for the underdogs, the misfits who defied expectations because deep down, that’s who she wanted to be.

Thor, over a century her senior, got earlier access into Asgard's military program and often travelled to make expeditions, from which he once brought her horns from a beast he’d slain (there was a tradition where warriors would come back with a gift for their lady, and since he was single, it was given to her). Since then, Loki vowed to make them her mark, and eventually did. But while Thor thrived in battle, Loki was at some point steered toward courtly duties, expected to be a proper princess. Her close bond with her mother Frigga was her saving grace as she convinced Odin to let her study magic, under the pretense it would help her defend herself if ever attacked.

Before discovering her magic, Loki’s identity felt kind of undefined and she envied Thor’s assigned red representing blood, a sign of being Asgard’s fiercest warrior. But when her own magic first flared emerald green, it felt like the universe finally handed her a name. They clutched it tightly, weaving it into their fashion and their very sense of self. They also liked the subtle danger signal the green brought, often associated to snakes and poison.

Then came adolescence and with it, rebellion. Gone was the timid girl—in her place stood a hurricane. Loki started to ditch the etiquette lessons, preferring to sneak out to party, get herself tangled with lovers (especially Thor’s romantic interests just to spite him) and orchestrated elaborate pranks to humiliate the ladies of the court who often shunned her. Whispers followed her wherever she went, but as Asgard’s princess, no one could do more than complain. Her dramatics bled into her wardrobe, especially with her coat often seen hanging over her shoulders and on which she proudly harboured her realm's symbol.

Being grounded more often than not, Loki ended up turning to the palace library. There, hidden in shadowed corners, she spied and learned lessons meant for Thor: geopolitics, military strategy, economics... She’d sneak into his room to steal notes—not that he wrote much on them anyway, forcing her to do most of the research herself. Knowledge became her secret weapon, the thing no one could take from her.

One night, she caught Mimir, Odin’s advisor, sneaking through the palace. She curiously followed him into a secret study that contained a powerful book of dark magic. She stole it, naturally, but Heimdall eventually caught her. Punishment followed but she managed to keep the book hidden, studying its forbidden pages under her mattress and scribbling snarky notes and doodles in the margins.

Her true rise came during a surprise attack, courtesy of the Dark Elves. Asgard’s forces were unprepared and Thor got injured in the assault. Loki managed to miraculously step in, leveraging her knowledge of Asgard’s layout and strategic brilliance to turn the tide. Victory was hers, and it earned her a seat at the war council where she thrived as a strategist, winning battles and collecting accolades. Each triumph was marked with a star pinned beside her beloved horns.

But these horns on her head weren’t simply a symbol of pride anymore, they also were a tether of her complicated emotions regarding her brother. With power came disillusionment, and she realized that Thor, the golden child, wasn’t the flawless warrior she’d once idolized. He was reckless, all brawn and little strategy. She saw it clearly now: she was the better leader. The better general. The better heir.

Her nexus event came when she learned the truth about her origins and Odin’s plans to marry her off like a pawn in his endless political games. The rage was volcanic, years of bitterness and betrayal spilling over, which led her to regrettably kill him. And with that, her timeline shattered.

Side note, her weapon of predilection is a sword cane because I thought that as much as it would bring a kind of dramatic flair to her, I could play into it and say that she messed one of her ankles or something during the battle.