Somewhere Along the Way...To Asgard

Confessions...

Hey guys it's me! I just want to make a disclaimer, the letter in this chapter is not my own work. It is that of Gerald Durrell, a letter he wrote to his future wife in July 1978. We have all heard Tom reading the beautiful letter on social media by now and I felt it was so appropriate for Loki's character. I couldn't not include it. I have changed a few little things in it to make it more fitting for the story. So I do hope you all enjoy. Confessions...
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If it had been Loki, he wasn't here anymore. I had searched high and low for him the past hour. Checking the gardens, the palace and all the little secret rooms he had shown me within it.

When I stopped to check his room I noticed that the letter was gone from his desk. So at least he had seen it...I hoped.

I was at the last place I could think of possibly finding him. The library.

I took a deep breath as I pushed the decorated door open and stepped inside.

Empty.

I sighed out exasperated. I flopped down onto the floor, leaning my head back against one of the bookcases.

"Son of a bitch...I give up." I groaned out, closing my eyes.

As I sat there for a little while, all of a sudden a book fell out and landed beside me with a gentle thud.

I stared at it for a moment in disbelief before blinking and looking around.

"Loki?" 

Nothing.

I closed my eyes, reaching out.

Loki? Please. We need to talk.

Of course there was no answer.

I shook my head as I reached over and lifted the book up off the floor, running my hands over the weathered leather cover. I flicked it open carefully, looking through the pages of the book when out slipped an envelope.

'My Darling.'

Definitely Loki's handwriting.

I stood up this time and looked around the library. This couldn't be a coincidence, could it?

I took one final look around the library again weaving in and out of the bookshelves. But alas I was indeed the only inhabitant in the sea of beautiful books, so I slipped over to the plush chair by the window, tucking my legs below me to begin to read.

I opened the envelope gently and slipped out the pages within.

'Dear Y/N, my Darling,

You said that things seemed clearer when they were written down. Well, herewith is a very boring letter in which I will try and put everything down so that you may read and re-read it in horror at your folly in getting involved with me.

To begin with I love you with a depth and passion that I have felt for no one else in this life and if it astonishes you it astonishes me as well. Not I hasten to say, because you are not worth loving. Far from it. It's just that, first of all, I swore I would not get involved with another woman. Secondly, I have never had such a feeling before and it is almost frightening. Thirdly, I would never have thought it possible that another human being could occupy my waking (and sleeping) thoughts to the exclusion of almost everything else like you do.

Fourthly, I never thought that, even if one was in love — one could get so completely besotted with another person, so that a minute away from them felt like a thousand years.

Fifthly, I never hoped, aspired, dreamed that one could find everything one wanted in a person. I was not such an idiot as to believe this was possible. Yet in you I have found everything I want: you are beautiful, giving, gentle, idiotically and deliciously feminine, sexy, wonderfully intelligent and wonderfully silly as well. I want nothing else in this life than to be with you, to listen and watch you, to argue with you, to laugh with you, to show you things and share things with you. To explore your magnificent mind, to explore your wonderful body, to help you, protect you, serve you, and bash you on the head when I think you are wrong... which is quite a lot I will have you know! Not to put too fine a point on it I consider that I am the only God to have found the crock of gold at the rainbow's end.