Ooooohohihihehehühühoho! Not your Anon, but inspired by it. What perfumes do the Marvel-Asgardians wear?
What a fantastic question!
Usually, when one pens a couple lines on scent in fanfiction, it’s about Loki and he smells, if memory serves, like leather and pine trees or... was it ozone? I can’t remember, but I do remember one good story in which Asgardian magic produced a smell, of cinnamon, which I found a really interesting idea—films are a visual medium and smell has never been a component, apart from the odd comment on a character smelling foully after an unfortunate encounter with a sewer, say. Good smells? Nobody ever comments on good smells!
Starting with the basics, if I had to devise a scent for Thor or Loki, or in truth the entire Asgardian army, I know I would choose: leather and sweat. What? They’re all covered head to toe with thick layers of what must have been several herds of especially unlucky cattle, and unless Asgardian clothes are designed to annihilate body odour, which I wouldn’t put past them of course, I surmise Thor will smell a bit at the end of the day. They also never change, which poses problems to me, so I really hope they’ve got special anti-funk fabrics.
Note that Asgard has this warrior cult going on, so I wouldn’t be surprised if some measure of male musk were considered as deliciously virile. We were blessed with a wonderfully gratuitous scene in the beginning of The Dark World in which Thor, some time after getting back home in the wake of his last battle to repel invaders from the Nine Realms and securing their peace, washes his torso, the rest of him being clothed, using his bare hands and a stone basin, before drying himself off with a simple cloth: we have no way of knowing whether this is a normal washing habit, something ritual to freshen up before going out, as his friends are celebrating the end of the battle in the city. Interestingly, there was a similar basin in Loki’s cell, and since I hardly believe he was meant to shit in a corner crapper, something tells me the basin isn’t his only way to wash.
The palace seems to feature many reflection pools in the corridors, but I think the pool in Frigga’s chambers is her personal bath, with its steps and cups filled with what I suppose are flower petals, but I could be mistaken. On one corner, there appears to be a basin with a pitcher in it and a cloth, evidently a ewer and a sink. All that hygiene paraphernalia, in passing, is installed right in front of an open window. Of course, the royals chambers must be at the very top of the palace and I doubt anyone would send a drone up there to spy on the Queen when she’s having a soak, but it may be worth noting.
We have a right to presume that all that water may be scented, too. If men don’t do it, I have a strong suspicion that Asgardian women may enjoy natural floral fragrances, maybe herbs, to perfume the body, hair, and the clothes. So many people wear fur and leather, too: it happens to be very easy to perfume both, and as a matter of fact, until the French Revolution it used to be a prestigious job for glove makers. It also bears noting that the Queen’s court is probably a little less warmongering than her husband’s; while he trains with his soldiers, something Frigga suggests is commonplace, she appears to dwell in a more learned area: women’s perfumes may be more soothing than men’s, provided that they do wear different fragrances.
Asgardians love to party, too, to celebrate the return of glorious heroes and their ‘dashing exploits’, as Fandral once put it, so it is entirely possible that they would keep the stronger scents for special events. Either way, I think it safe to assume that on average Asgardians would favour natural smells extracted from flowers and herbs, since the luxury aspects of their lifestyle are contrasting so vividly with their highly-advanced technological prowesses: as director Alain Taylor commented, they go on horseback like we use fountain pens, for the charm of it. Asgardians live so long while things last so little, and evidently they cherish a calm, contemplative way of life filled with simple beauty to balance their warmongering appetites.
Aliens don’t seem to be welcome on Asgard, so I’d wager that exotic goods are rare and expensive: we could also have a few courtesans going around wearing foreign substances. I would find it hilarious if a couple products made in Midgard found their way to the citadel, you know?