Letter to Kitty

[x-crowdofone.livejournal.com]

Written on several pieces of parchment, much-folded and bent from being carried under his armor, and sent by same-day parcel express.


Day . . . 1? Or 2, I guess. August 4, if they have August here.

Dear Kitty,

I love you so much, and I don't know if you're as scared as I am right now, but if you are, then I'm sorry.

I'm in Asgard.

Writing it down makes it seem more real, somehow. I'm in Asgard, in the kingdom of the dwarves, I'm lying in bed with a hole in my leg that hurts like you wouldn't believe, I'm all alone--I know a bunch of the others got snatched the same time I did, but they must have ended up different places--and I don't know if all of them are alive. Miles is one of them. And Alison, Doug, Angie, 'Yana, Paige, Rahne--seems like half the people I care about at the school are here, and I don't know if I'll ever see all of them again.

The dwarves have been really nice. Gunnar and Disa--that's King Gunnar, really, and his daughter Halldis--both speak English, because I guess the Aesir use it sometimes, and they've been making sure I have everything I need to rest up and put my leg back together. So, hell, I guess it could have been worse, I could've ended up with the frost giants--or Hel, come to think of it. I just want to be back home, though.

And that's exactly what I'm going to do. I'm going to find out what happened to everybody--get them all together, if they're still alive--and I swear, Kitty, I will come back to you. I will always come back to you. I promise.

Which might look a little funny, considering that when you read this, it'll mean that I have come back already . . . but right now, when I'm writing it, I need to see it written down. Kind of a talisman, I guess. I haven't broken a promise to you yet--or I don't think I have, anyway--and I'm not going to break this one. I will see you again.

Love,
Jamie

Day 6 (August 8)

Dear Kitty,

Disa says today she's going to let me try getting up out of bed and hobbling around a little--she brought this crutch for me to use, and it's really amazing-looking, I don't know if it's aluminum, or just really light steel, or what, but it's forged, and it has these nifty sort of snakey stylized animal shapes inlaid all over it, like I've seen in Viking art displays in museums, and they must have made it specifically for me, because I'm pretty much the tallest person here by a good two feet and it's the perfect height.

And it occurs to me I never explained why I need a crutch, or what I'm doing with a big hole in my leg, so it's a good thing you're reading this all at once instead of spread out as I write it, isn't it?

What happened was, I landed on this mountainside in the middle of a battle--the dwarves against what I found out later were mountain trolls, these big ugly kind of greenish critters--and right when I was starting to figure out that it wasn't a movie and maybe I should find someplace to hide, I saw these three trolls ganging up on one dwarf, backing her up into this little crevice--and trolls are a good foot or two taller than I am, so imagine three-on-one when the one is half the size of any of the three--and, well, you know me, more guts than sense sometimes. I tried evening up the odds, and I downed one with a rock, but the second one speared me through the leg as easy as turning around. And then I passed out.

But it's okay. Or, it will be once my leg heals up. The dwarf turned out to be Disa, and she told her dad what I did, and I guess they were impressed (or else they just thought they'd better take me where I wouldn't get killed for being an idiot) so here I am staying with the dwarves. They've got this magic applesauce they've been using on my leg, which I know sounds silly, but it works--I mean, not even a week later and here I am, able to stand up, sort of, if I use the crutch and don't put any weight on my leg and don't bump into anything and take fifteen minutes to put my pants on.

Okay, so I've been better. But by the time you read this, I'll be all fixed up, so you don't need to worry.

Gunnar's throwing a feast tonight, both to introduce me to the rest of the clan and because a trade caravan just got back with, apparently, some serious profits. I'm not really sure about going to a party where I can only maybe talk to two or three people, but they've been really nice and I'm about this far from finding a cow to gnaw a steak off of, after a week of pretty much nothing but applesauce (because it works better if you take it internally while you're using it as a poultice, I guess) so I'm gonna go.

I still miss you.

Love,
Jamie

Day 7 (August 9)

Dear Kitty,

The problem with not speaking the language very well yet is that I can't tell when they're saying "give the Midgarder another ale, let's see how many he can drink before he throws up." I think I ended up at about five, but the rest of the evening is kind of hazy, so I'm not all that sure . . . anyway, hangovers? Not fun. But the water isn't safe to drink either, and Disa left me some peel from the apples that go into the applesauce, which worked better than aspirin, and some tea, which gets boiled so it doesn't make you puke, which did for the dehydration part, and I feel much better now. Once I get back home I am swearing off alcohol until I'm, I dunno, fifty.

I wish you were here. Which is pretty futile, because you're not, and even if you were here-in-Asgard you wouldn't be here-with-me, and I sleep a lot better knowing you're safe back on Earth . . . but there's so much I want to show you here. This has been Gunnar's clan's ancestral home since back when people actually worshipped the Aesir, and they've been improving it and decorating it and . . . you remember, in "Fellowship of the Ring," when they were going through Moria, and there's that one shot right before the orcs attack where they go out into that big pillared hall? There's a hall like that here, but it isn't dark, there's fireplaces and magic lights, and rugs on the floor, and tapestries, and carvings, and kids running around laughing, and . . . they live in a work of art. It's a museum the size of a mountain--only, better than a museum, because the artists are still here, still working on it, and I can't even describe it well enough. I wish I could show it to you.

And I wish you were here because I need to talk to you. Just in general, because you keep me sane, and because . . . I was down in the forge today, because it's one of the only places I know how to get to by myself and I need to exercise my leg, and I was talking to Gunnar about why his people fight. I'm starting to think . . . maybe I was wrong when I said I wouldn't ever join the X-Men. Gunnar says, only thinking long-term is just as bad as only thinking short-term--you have to do both, otherwise there might not be a long term, and I guess he knows, because he has to make sure there's a long term for his whole clan, and he's been doing it for a long, long time. He says there are people you have to fight, who won't listen when you try to find the peaceful solution, and we both know that's true. And I don't know. I'm starting to wonder how much of not wanting to be an X-Man was . . . not wanting to risk dying again. Because I could do both, be an X-Man and work with HeliX--with my powers, my whole deal is "doing both."

I don't know. I haven't made any decisions about it yet, because this is a big one to make, and I do need to talk to you about it for real, not just in my head and in this letter. You're so much a part of my life, everything I do and think and feel, I don't think I can make this kind of decision without you.

One more reason to come home soon.

Love,
Jamie

Day 25 (August 27)

Dear Kitty,

I'm off the crutch! Three cheers for me! Little bit of a limp still, and the leg aches a lot when I walk around on it, but I'm pretty much bipedal again. No more sore armpit.

Just sore shoulders. Gunnar's started showing me a few things about metalworking. I can bend iron, and fold it, and cut it, and eventually he's going to let me actually make useful things, but right now? Ow. If I make anything cool I'll bring it back with me, but right now Disa keeps coming down to the forge while I'm working so she can laugh at all the weird little twisty debris I always end up with. You'd laugh too, some of it is really funny-looking.

Love,
Jamie

Day 39 (September 10)

Dear Kitty,

I met a dragon today. Am still sort of blown away.

Not a dangerous dragon. Sort of a relative of Gunnar's, if you go back a couple hundred generations or something.

And this is a story I really need to tell you in person. You'll like it.

Love,
Jamie


Day 47 (September 18)

Dear Kitty,

I'm starting to get really, really antsy. I mean, here I am, my leg's all fixed, and I'm doing okay here, but . . . Gunnar's had people looking for everybody else since day one, and he hasn't found anybody--rumors, sure, but never anything definite. What if I'm the only one left? I mean, Asgard's dangerous, and I got lucky but that's no guarantee anybody else did.

God, I miss you. I hope you're there when I get back, I'm only sorry I wasn't there to meet you when your plane landed.

I'm going to find out what happened to everybody before I come home, though. I'm really sorry, if that ended up being a long time . . . but it's something I have to do. I can't just leave them.

I will love you to the end of the world and beyond.

Jamie

Day 58 (September 29)

Dear Kitty,

Forget everything I said last time except the part about "to the end of the world and beyond." Because that's still true, but . . . they found Miles. He's in the clan-holding of Dvalin, which isn't even that far away!

The problem is, they thought he was a goblin, so they chased him into the tunnels. God, he must be terrified. I'm leaving in about ten minutes--Gunnar insisted on giving me a full kit of supplies, I can't believe how great friends these guys are. I'm going to miss them.

This is gonna be the end of this letter, too--I'm going to be traveling, and I filled up this whole parchment, and I dunno if I'll be able to get more, or ink, or anything. I'll tell you the rest of what happens when I see you again, and I'll send this as soon as I get back to Earth.

And I will see you again. I don't care if I have to walk home from here, carrying everybody else on my shoulders.

Well, I sort of do, because there should be a faster way to get back than that.

. . . Oop, that's Disa, probably coming to get me for the sendoff. I'll put this away now.

I love you.

Jamie