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How I Met Tom Hiddleston and Midgard Was Saved for One More Day

It was a dark morning on the 6th of January when I set out for London.

Under normal circumstances I would have teleported directly to my destination, but an evening out with Thor had led to the consumption vast amounts of mead and I was feeling a little… delicate, shall we say.

I alighted my mechanical carriage in the late Midgard afternoon, and made directly to the place known as Covent Garden where I found my lodgings for the night. The innkeeper was hospitable and my quarters were spartan, almost unbecoming of a prince, but they were warm and dry and I had naught complaints, as it was better than spending an evening in the woods with Thor and his moronic friends.

Once I had refreshed myself I set out into the village of London and quickly found myself in Leicester Square. It had changed somewhat since my last visits; there was neither the red carpet from Not Brother: The Dark World premiere, nor the beautiful fairground from my visit in December.



The grass in the park was gone, churned to a clinging mud that threatened to drag me under and drown me a morass of my own thoughts. Would I ever make it back to Covent Garden? Would I see Coriolanus? Would I be reunited with my wayward clone, Thomas? I am only 2 inches tall, so both time and short stature were against me.

I arrived back at the Donmar at around 6.30pm and noticed a queue of mortals who were inside the shopping arcade. A minion informed me that they were waiting for return tickets, so I pushed my way into the queue to secure myself a ticket and deny one of those waiting the chance to see Thomas. I already had a ticket of my own, but who can resist the chance for mischief?



After being ejected from the queue by the security guard I reluctantly made my way inside and took my seat.

What can I say about the play? I had already seen it once, the second night of previews, and while it was magnificent the first time I saw it, I truly appreciated the subtle changes. The differences may have been small, but the attack on Corioles seemed much more visceral and I am very much looking forward to seeing again, but on a cinema screen as part of NTlive. The Donmar itself is such a wonderful and intimate theatre, where you feel like you are part of the action, so I am curious to see how this will translate onto a big screen.

Sadly, the play eventually ended and it came time for me to make my way outside. I decided that the best way to capture the wayward clone was to infiltrate his fans and lay in wait for him. I stood in the wind and rain like one of the common folk of the village, dressed in rags and a beautiful golden helmet and bided my time in the shadows.



I signed some autographs and posed for some photos with fans during this time, but we waited calmly, without pushing or bad behaviour, for who would dare act badly in front of their future king?

After some time Thomas emerged and the queue moved forward, one by one. I feared I would never meet him; that he would leave before I reached my appointed audience, but the time came and I moved towards him!

As soon as I appeared, and my golden horns glittered under the street lights, Thomas knew who I was and laughed. He said how nice it was to meet me, as he should for I am a god who will soon rule this realm. He signed my theatre programme and when I saw what he had written I controlled myself, because I am a prince and future king, or at least until we said our farewells, and I had moved a respectable distance away.



Later I retired to a local tavern and drank my fill of mead and the next morning I was escorted to the city limits and told not to return.

I have no idea what I did to cause such offence. I only threatened to kill two people.

I shall of course return to London, but perhaps in disguise.

Lego Loki

Lego Loki is an actor, film maker, and the author of Brick High-Rise. Follow him on twitter: @Loki_Lego

This Post Has One Comment

  1. Donna

    I love this. What a great story. I look forward to hearing about some more fears of mischief, Prince Lego Lori. Nobody cares about that big, blond muscle head. You are the true heir to the throne of Asgard. Long live King Lego Loki!

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