Glorious Purpose ~ Loki x Reader

Chapter 1 ~ Need to Leave

(Y/n) P.O.V.
I was born in the freezing, barren realm of Jötunheim. The end of the Great War was upon us, and it was apparent that, despite our best efforts, the Frost Giants were destined to lose.

I was abnormally small for a Frost Giant, causing my parents to be greatly disappointed in me simply for being born (relatable🤣). They left me to die in our small village house, that I now know was just next to the temple Loki was in. Perhaps had Odin come to my rescue as well, my life would have been different. I would've been raised as royalty, and maybe not have even found out I was a Frost Giant.

But seeing as Odin left after showing all of his mercy to Loki, I suppose I can safely assume that wasn't what fate had in store for me. Fate wanted me in that little hut for a little while longer. So I sat there. Patiently waiting for my parents to return.

They never did.

For the record, I obviously didn't learn all of this until later. At the time, I was but an infant who had yet to learn of all the wonders the nine realms had to offer. I was utterly helpless.

Then, another came upon my crying form. Surtur. The great Fire Giant who would one day bring about Ragnarök; the doom of the gods. I do not know what he saw in me; to this day I still can't seem to figure it out. I was small and left to die because I was clearly undesirable, but still, he wrapped me in his arms, and slowly turned my blue form to a fiery red.

He took me back to Muspelheim with him, and there, I was raised as a warrior. Surtur forced me to bury all of my emotions and compassion deep within me. He was strict, and would not allow me to express my Frost Giant side in any way. He branded me and whipped me every time I failed or disobeyed him. I was trained to be fearless, emotionless, and indestructible. And his methods were working... or so he thought.

However, every night, at the end of my training, I practiced running on less and less sleep. I forced my body to rely on other ways of replenishing my energy, and soon, I was able to stay up all night, nearly every night, using this time to explore my ice powers.

I always knew I had them; Surtur was the one who told me when I was little. He found no reason to hide it from me as long as I knew "which side I truly fought for," and that I should never use my ice magic, or embrace any part of me that was Frost Giant. He made me feel as though I was not supposed to be born, but that he had graciously given me new purpose; a reason to live.

But I never believed in what he said. So, despite all of his warnings, I took every chance I had to practice freezing rocks, fighting with ice, and more. I soon realized that I had the power to fix any of the burns I sustained from Surtur's beatings, I just had to be careful to only do it to the ones I knew he would not see.

I also found out that by looking into anyone's eyes, I could temporarily turn them to ice. I was not able to practice this one as often as my other abilities for... obvious reasons.

One day, while I was Surtur called me to the royal throne room; a place I had only been privileged enough to see once before. I walked in and bowed.

"You summoned me father?" I questioned.

"I did," Surtur nodded, speaking in a loud, booming voice. "Please, come sit." He gestured to the throne next to him.

I gasped. "B-but sir, that chair is only f-for the the next ruler... wouldn't you rather leave it for one of your sons?" I pondered.

Surtur, for whatever reason, seemed to value the boneheads that always picked on me on the rare occasions they were home far above than me. So I was extremely surprised by this gesture, to say the least.

Surtur sighed. "My oldest, has died."

I gasped once more and hung my head, faking a bit of despair. "I-I'm, very sorry…"

"He was the best at destroying worlds," he continued. “The other two buffoons couldn't get half his planet count if they combined their forces, which they'd never do of course, since they're always bickering back and forth like children.” He spat. Why is he suddenly speaking so poorly of them now? I pondered in amazement.

Surtur turned to me, and placed a finger on my shoulder. Slowly, my skin turned red again and formed patterns on my face. Oftenly, I would use my shapeshifting power to change my appearance to that of a tan Asgardian or Midgardian. Surtur never minded me exercising this ability, surprisingly, but for whatever reason, he wanted me red for what he was about to say. I looked up at him with my now entirely black eyes.

Surtur smiled. "I want you to have the throne, (Y/n)." He said, my heart dropping. "Muspelheim would thrive under your rule, and all of the other worlds would cower in fear as we one day bring about Ragnarök. Under my guidance, you will be a feared and merciless queen whose name will be known throughout the nine realms."

I was rather speechless in the moment; even if I was now his eldest "child," I was still only 740 years old, which was equivalent to but a mere 12 years old in Asgard, Jötunheim, and here. Suppose even he really did want me to rule, was this the path I wanted for my life?

However, I did nothing but nod solemnly, knowing this was no time to protest. "I look forward to watching their last expressions of terror before they are all burned alive." I replied, bowing once more.

Surtur smiled an evil grin. "That is how a true Fire Giant queen acts. Now, to bed. You will be ready to rest in a hour or you will be burned. We must training as early as possible, so go get some sleep while you can."

I simply nodded once more and exited the throne room, conflicted of what I should do. There's no way I can go through with any of this, but do I really have a choice?

I quickly prepared to sleep, but ended up laying in my bed for a long while, staring at the ceiling as I considered my options. I'm to weak to kill him, that's for certain. No one would come to rescue me, so if I want to leave, I must-

"(Y/n)," Surtur suddenly walked in, startling me.

I quickly sat up and faced him. "Yes father?"

"I've decided something for you," He announced. "I no longer want you to shapeshift."

I stared at him, confused. "But, why is it suddenly a problem sir?"

"You should be proud of the form I've given you," He replied, "and the queen of Muspelheim should never be seen looking like one of those pitiful Asgardians, or worse, an inhabitant of midgard." He spat, as if they were some kind of vermin.

And with that, he left, giving me no chance to speak against his command. And as soon as he left, I changed back to my Asgardian form.

I don't want this, I thought. I won't be able to hide what I do anymore; I'll be under constant surveillance. I can't change forms, and I can't use ice... he's making me forget who I am so he can use me as his war machine.

Running out of time and options, I finally made up my mind. I cannot stay here. I cannot become queen... I cannot become like him...

I need to leave, as soon as I can.