𝓛𝓸𝓴𝓲 𝓧 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓮𝓻 𝓞𝓷𝓮𝓼𝓱𝓸𝓽𝓼

Your Highness..

Backstory: In this story, instead of Odin finding Loki and accepting him as his adopted son- He was instead brought back to Asgard with the class of servant- a sad title that barely put him above the class of peasant. Although Frigga disagreed with his choice, she could not push him to do the right thing, but to disobey him; she raised Loki as her own. In secret, she would meet with him, feed him, give him the parental love he lacked, with this she also taught him his abilities that he knows in the canon universe; though he tries not to pull too much mischief because he's too worried he'd get caught. Thor, fortunately, doesn't look down on Loki, more pities him. Treating him more like a close friend. But this is where (Y/N) comes in, she is a princess from a city near to Asgard; The City of Emeralds, rather than gold; Coliath. She is the rightful heir to the throne, but when tragedy strikes and leaves her Kingdom in ruin, her parents and she fled to the neighbouring city undetected; Asgard. At the young age of 12, she has lost nearly everything, but her title and her will, will not be cast in a forgotten shroud...

My hands clutch the bottom of my dress as I sprint across the halls of my home, the booming sounds of battle piercing my ears as I blink away tears. The comforting but frantic hand of my mother's hand on my shoulders ushers me forward, her teeth were gritted as her hair swung behind her, once in such a gorgeous updo now reduced to frayed ends and poking strands, resembling that of a thrashed birds nest. My father's booming voice resonated through my ears as we ran, exclamations of orders to passerby guards were heard but fell meaningless on my over-stimulated ears, the aching feeling of exhaustion seared my lungs and legs as we sprinted and burst through the doors of my homes large doors. I couldn't help but peek back at the building, once beautiful and glowing with its emerald green light- symboling that of fertility as the sun behind it reflected hues of green on the city... was now reduced to a hellscape as flames engulfed the sides as if the sun that once shined from behind it had swallowed it without remorse.

All this time I hadn't let out a single weep until my voice cracked and let out a distressed wail. As I turned back I saw my people scattering like rats, their homes had been reduced to rubble and flaming shacks, bodies scattering the streets, kids I'd once called friends now lying dead in the arms of their screaming mothers. I was helpless, completely and utterly useless in this horrific tragedy that plagued my people. Through the tears, I blinked and saw my father wielding his shining silver broad sword, trying to fight off a knight dressed head to toe in charcoal black armour, it was so dark already that it looked like he was fighting off a black hole.

I heard my mother growl as she wrenched her hand forward and cast a basic spell of 'push' from her palm, the magic glowing a deep blue as it pushed the man away from my father so that he could finally stab the long sword through his chest.

I nearly blacked out from exhaustion before I felt my father pick me up and carry me somewhere, the sounds of screams fading in and out as my mind pushed me in and out of consciousness- I was terrified, angry, and so utterly distraught that it hurt to breathe. The feeling of my father in front of me and my mother behind me was apparent as we sat atop our royal horse, my royal horse. Alastor was his name, a shire horse with a reddish-brown coat and flowing black mane, a birthday present last year... the memories of that day came back to me in waves as I clutched my father's back to my face closely, my crying inaudible against the screams and booms...

I jolted awake with a scream and a wail as I gripped my silken sheets tightly, my chest rising and falling sharply as my exhales were ragged and shaky. I looked around my dark room, it was grand and large... everything a princess should want right? I felt my bottom lip quiver as the corners of my mouth turned down sharply, hiking up my knees I curled up into a ball and cried hysterically, the sound of my parents bursting through the door barely audible from my cries. This was only the third week of us staying here and I'd been having these nonstop night terrors, this one just happened to be one of the worst as my scream was so loud it caused my father to bring his long sword to survey the room in fervour. My mother always knew it was nothing other than trauma though, as she always pet my tangled (h/c) hair and whispered to me quietly. Words of reassurance and kindness filling my ears and always making me calm, I always wondered if it was a spell, she'd been teaching herself spells for a few years and she'd certainly gotten proficient at it, so I wouldn't have been surprised.